You could ask any rat in Rattropolis where they were when the untwist happened, and they would remember.

Mattus was on his way to work that day, walking the same street he followed every day to the Benson bakery. It was an ordinary day, in a nice safe neighbourhood, and he had to admit he took that for granted until that day. He had a snack in his paw as he ran along the main street, nobody wants to be late for work (or more accurately nobody wants to get caught being late for work.

He gave a friendly wave to Clarice, and she waved back. He thought he really had a chance there. Then it happened. The street twisted on him, and he fell over right in front of her. He picked himself up and dusted off, that was going to leave a bruise, and then looked up.

What he saw turned his entire world upside down. Right in the middle of the city was what could only be described as a slum. Was that the twist? He couldn’t be sure, because he had always been told to stay away from that place. Now he finally saw why.

A pawful of steely looking pensioners were standing up against a veritable army of mutated rats. Some were standing with the old rats, doing their best to shield them, but they were clearly flagging, they couldn’t keep this up forever.

Then his brain processed the rest, was that TENTACLES poking from the tower in the middle? Tentacles? This was his city. His home. It was supposed to be safe. One of the mutated rats lunged at Clarice, and it was like he didn’t even think. He stood in the way, and swung his tail. Blade and all. They would not hurt her, they would NOT attack his home. Somebody had hidden all this from him, all that danger, all that suffering, all to keep him safe and ignorant.

He grabbed Clarice and dragged her into the house. “Stay here, don’t let anybody in” he growled, as one thing all rats have bubbled to the surface. Rats were survivors, and they would survive this. But for now his home was full of monsters, there would be time to freak out later. Once they were safe, for now those old rats needed a paw. How long they’d been fighting to keep the swarm safe he didn’t know. But every rat knows you don’t leave a predator alone without a damned good reason.

************************************************************************

Buttons and Veggie were at the end of their rope, yet it was a familiar feeling. Buttons staggered to his paws once again, the old brawler lunging at Pintsize once more, if he was going out he was taking that little rat with him. Or at the very least a bite of him.

Pintsize was clearly suffering an adverse reaction to the dip, he just kept growing, and he was twisting and healing as his wounds surfaced. This was bad, how did you fight something like that?

Veggie threw his brother the trusty hammer, and pulled a length of chain from his bag. Twirling and spinning he aimed for the legs. “Big just means a long way to drop, and from that height you oversized git it’ll ‘urt a ‘ell of a lot more than your bloody ego.

The city was stirring, as they noticed them, they knew of The Greys, but they were only a myth right? Yet here they were, the two biggest monsters in the city working together to fight an even bigger one. Wait, something that made The Greys fight for the city? What if it won? It was really hard to ignore all that had been hidden away once it is in front of your eyes, and between the monster you know and the monster you don’t? The conclusion was obvious. The Greys were monsters, but they were THEIR monsters.

Veggie wrapped a chain around Pintize’s legs, and the pair pulled, and he came crashing down. Buttons was hit, and hard, slamming into a wall, with a sickening crunch, and Veggie went berserk. He pounced on Pintsize, snapping and snarling, biting everything he could reach, (and unsurprisingly The Greys knew a few things about dirty fighting,) as around them the city stirred.

There was a collective chittering noise, as the Rats, Dook, and Caneiree of the city realised just how vulnerable they truly were.

The birds did what they could, flitting from place to place carrying messages, first aid supplies, and news. The Dook while far fewer than the rats were stronger, and bulkier, and could get in anywhere. This made them great at flitting through the crowd, and when they hit they hit hard. But for now they had a more important duty, the ones who couldn’t fight? They had to get to safety. Schools, big offices, buildings like that were perfect. The Dook were natural defenders, and they looked out for their friends and neighbours.

As the fighting intensified the city finally started remembering to work together. Old Rats with years of experience cooking for large families turned their expertise to making sure nobody went hungry.

The teachers started to do what they did best, they ran little games, keeping the young ones occupied, they were a city but they would stand together.

*************************************************************************

Mattus was back on the streets, and dashing towards where those old rats were fighting. He’d always liked a good scrap, but this was new to him. As an old lady clutching a frying pan faltered he dove in. Swishing his tail rapier to slash the creature towering over her as hard as he could.

“You OK Miss?” He asked, as he offered her a paw.

“Nice timing young-blood, aint seen that for a while, say aren’t you one of Sylvia’s?”

“Yups” he replied, eeping and diving clear of a swipe from one of the assailants, who probably did not expect a response in the form of a toolbox to the face.

“You sure you want to be here kid?” She asked.

“MY DEN, defend.” He snarled back, he wasn’t exactly at his most rational. (Being nearly disemboweled tends to do that for you.) But by the sounds of things he wasn’t the only one, all across the city Rats who had been neighbours for years started to show these abominable predators what a REAL swarm can do.