The swarm was awake, and they were angry. They swept through the streets, tearing into the horde of rats who had dared attack their den. How dare they, alone they would stand no chance against these creatures, but they weren’t alone, and they were taking back their home no matter what. For every rat who stumbled there was one to drag them clear, one to patch them up, and one to take their place until they were ready to return.

They tasted blood and they didn’t care, they had had enough of this. They knew these streets, and even with the new ones appearing at least a few who had snuck in there back in their rebellious phase. Their home, THEIRS.

The monsters who had turned their back on others in their greed would pay today. Mutations or not, even if they had bloody swam in the sludge they would learn it wasn’t enough as a chaos of fangs, claws, and rage descended. The ones who defended the elders? They were spared, but today this mess was going to get cleaned up.

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Mibbet and the others stepped out of the tower once more, To find the world outside was changing. They saw rats pulling each other from the rubble, while others held back the enemy. Dook stood firm holding improvised shields, Caneiree flitted back and forth helping with damage reports, calling for aid while needed, while Rats ripped and tore at the beleaguered invaders. The politeness and presentability of the city stripped away for a moment as they dealt with the festering wound they had been ignorant of for so long.

Little old ladies teamed together to step into what had once been the twist, aided by tattooed grandsons, who would once have clearly been in one mob or another. But now? They had been forced to choose, and most had chosen family. Together they raked together what food they could for the neglected children who grew up there. Tables were set up, and soup was on. The little ones were of course practically feral, some were even clearly on mutie, but they were fed without judgement, and they were hungry. FOOD was first and foremost in their mind, and these little old people were feeding them.

It wasn’t just food either, clothing, even toys were being given. They weren’t sure what to make of that, looking a little shellshocked as they were ushered to safety.

Mibbet searched the city as quickly as she could fighting where she needed to, and lending support where she didn’t. But there was only so much she could do. That and she still had another mission first, she had to track them down, everywhere she saw signs of their presence. Or heard their name whispered, but so far there was no sign of them.

Eventually though she came across an area that was suspiciously quiet despite massive damage. There she found it, what was left of Pintsize. That name definitely didn’t suit him anymore, what had he done with all that sludge? Swam in it? Drunk it? He was practically the size of a building, There could only be two rats responsible for that, she was getting close. Eventually she found them, in the centre of a hushed circle of bystanders, who were watching with a mix of Reverence and fear.

“Should have retired years ago,” Veggie Grey muttered as she approached, in his arms he held the fallen Buttons. Veggie started to walk.

“Where are you going?” Mibbet asked, but there was no answer.

The crowd parted to make room as Veggie passed, nobody tried to stop him. Nobody even wanted to. The Grey Twins had fought, and now they were done. On the last day of their careers they finally got the one thing they had always preached RESPECT.

“Oh one more thing Princess, you may want ter look into revulsion spells, that aint enough to repay what you did, but trust me.” Veggie said, throwing down a smoke bomb, and moving before the smoke cleared.

Mibbet went to follow, but in the blink of an eye they were gone. She didn’t need to worry about them now, she knew they wouldn’t be back.

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The next few days were something of a blur, as Mibbet and the others worked together to help with the repairs. (Rascal and Alba were too busy having fun tracking down the remainder of Pintsizes little mob of course, more than one mob rat was carried back to face what they had done, and if they misbehaved? Well a good shake soon took the resistance out of them.)

The horses had of course held their own, a few opportunistic looters had come their way, but a metal shoe to the forehead was usually a great deterrent, and they had the advantage of wings. (More than one Caneiree messenger had gotten the shock of their lives as they were overtaken by airborne equines who settled on high roosts to graze. One had even gone over to check on them, but the looks they had given, those veteran stares would haunt him forever.)

Now they were back doing what they did best, pulling heavy stuff. They were hauling rubble and logs under Errol’s supervision. (They liked Errol, he was a good kid, even if he did occasionally make things go boom.) Addy was using her excavation skills to the best of her ability to clear the rubble. While Elvira to everybodies surprise (including her own.) Had taken to the kitchen and was happily serving food.

The tower was being carefully monitored now, and after a tentacle as thick as a rats waist had emerged from the hole it was agreed it was best to occasionally feed whatever the hell that was and other than that leave it alone. Though it seemed to have become rather protective of the little rats, and so an orphanage, and some schools were set up there. (Unsurprisingly nobody was going to mess with that, at least not twice.) It even seemed to be happy to let the little ones study what was written in the tower. Or at least most of it. Though it kept them away from the pool deep down, and any sludge. Eventually teachers were hired to help. Thus it was that normality (well of a sort) was restored to the great city of Rattropolis, as the age of The Greys came to an end.