𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧

Chapter fourteen: The rat king's bane

Mikey tapped her foot against the ground, the signal for Skriv to meet her. She crossed her arms and waited, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. She was leaving the sewer behind, and nothing was going to stop her now. A few moments later, the familiar sound of scuttling echoed through the tunnels, and the cockroach trader appeared, his antennae twitching with curiosity.

"So, how'd it go, runt?" Skriv's voice rang out with his usual taunting tone, his eyes scanning her figure, clearly expecting the usual rough-and-tumble aftermath of a battle. "King's dead, or you just have a new collar around your neck?"

Mikey smirked, striking a pose with confidence, her tail swishing behind her. "Not dead," she said coolly. "But I gave him a reason to remember who he's messing with."

Skriv tilted his head, clearly intrigued, but he couldn't help but snicker at her defiant posture. "He didn't see it coming, huh? Typical, you always like making an entrance."

Mikey didn't break her stance, her eyes narrowing slightly as she added, "I didn't need to kill him. He's alive, but he knows I'm not his puppet. If he even tries to play king again... I'll finish the job. But for now, he gets to stew in his defeat. No more ratty tyranny. It's time for them to think for themselves."

Skriv let out a sharp laugh, one that bounced off the sewer walls. "Damn, you've got guts, I'll give you that. So, what's next for you, huh? You actually gonna stick around in the sewers, or is the surface calling your name?"

Mikey gave a little shrug, her gaze shifting towards the dim light filtering through the entrance of the sewer. "The surface sounds nice. Not sure what's out there yet, but I'll figure it out." Her smirk grew wider. "And you? Got any deals to make while I'm gone, or is this the part where you beg me to stay?"

Skriv snorted, crossing his arms. "You know I don't beg. But if you're serious about leaving, then let's just say I might have a few more tricks up my sleeve for you, runt." His cockroach legs twitched in a way that suggested he was already calculating something in his mind.

Mikey chuckled, tapping her fingers against her daggers. "Alright, Skriv. I'll take you up on whatever you're offering, but I'm not sticking around for long. Got bigger things to do. You'll know where to find me."

With that, she turned and started walking toward the exit, her mind already set on what was next. The world above awaited her, and she was ready for whatever came. The sewers were in the past-now, it was time to see what the surface held.

Skriv followed her, calling out with a grin, "Don't forget me, runt. I'm sure we'll be doing business again soon."

Mikey glanced back one last time. "I won't," she said with a smirk, disappearing into the light beyond the sewer entrance.

As Mikey made her way through the darkened tunnels of the sewer, the walls seemed to close in around her, but there, amid the grime and decay, something caught her eye. At the far end of the passage, carved into the stone wall, was a message.

It was rough, etched deeply into the wall, as if someone had taken great care to leave it behind. The words were unmistakable, bold, and reverent in a way that only the forgotten could understand.

"The Broken Chain"

The name struck her immediately, a title she hadn't claimed, but now it was hers, immortalized in the very walls of this forsaken place. Beneath the name, a story was written, chipped into the stone with the same intensity.

"She came from the darkness, a runt among rats. With claws bared and bloodied fists, she shattered the chains of tyranny, breaking the will of the Rat King. Not by his decree, nor by the weapons she wielded, but by the strength in her soul. The Broken Chain-freedom is her birthright. And none shall shackle her again."