The air grew colder as they ventured further into the depths of the metro network, a biting chill that clung to their skin and prickled at their throats. The tunnel ahead stretched endlessly, its walls streaked with damp stains and the faint glint of ancient rust. Unlike the earlier stretches, where the remnants of the Old Ones lingered in the form of faded posters and scattered trinkets, this part of the metro felt stripped of all humanity, a hollow graveyard where even memory dared not linger.
The floor beneath their boots was uneven now, fractured by time and neglect, and strewn with rubble and jagged chunks of concrete. Snow led the way, her hand firmly gripping the battery lamp, its weak glow illuminating just enough to keep them moving forward. She held Rain's hand with her free one, guiding her carefully around precarious edges and loose debris.
Rain's voice, though still soft, broke the oppressive silence. "You know, Snow… there's something I've been thinking about."
Snow glanced over her shoulder, relieved to hear her speaking again, even if her voice still carried the weight of weariness. "What's that?"
Rain hesitated, as if weighing whether her thoughts were worth sharing. "The Collapse," she began slowly, "what if it wasn't the end for everyone?"
Snow raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? It's been nearly a hundred years, Rain. Everyone from back then is long gone."
"Not necessarily," Rain replied, a faint spark of excitement creeping into her tone. "What if some of the Old Ones survived? I mean, really survived. Maybe they found ways to outlast the Collapse. Think about it—artificial organs, regeneration serums, stasis chambers… It's not impossible, is it?"
Snow let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "You've been reading too many Knower scrolls."
Rain gave a small laugh, the sound faint but genuine. "Maybe. But think about it. The Old Ones were advanced, weren't they? They built machines we can barely comprehend. They terraformed entire regions. What if Paradise—what if the whole purpose of it—was to fix the world after the Collapse so they could come back? A second chance for them, at the expense of everyone else."
Snow couldn't help but snort at that. "Sounds like something they'd do," she muttered. "Self-serving bastards, the lot of them. Blow up the world in their greed and then sit back while everyone else scrambles to clean up the mess."
Rain's eyes brightened slightly at Snow's response, as if the agreement, even laced with sarcasm, validated her thoughts. "Exactly! It makes sense, doesn't it? What if they're still out there, hiding in the shadows, waiting for us to do all the hard work? Waiting to reclaim what's theirs."
Snow glanced back at her, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "And what? They're just watching us from the shadows, keeping tabs on their little pet project?"
Rain shrugged, her expression both serious and wistful. "Why not? Maybe they're waiting for the right moment. Or maybe they're already here, walking among us, pretending to be one of us."
Snow chuckled dryly. "Well, if that's true, then they'd better keep pretending. Otherwise, I've got a longshooter and a bad attitude waiting for them."
Rain smiled faintly at that, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She fell silent again, her gaze drifting to the map she clutched in her hands.
As they pressed on, the tunnel became more treacherous. The skeletal remains of metro cars jutted out at odd angles, their frames twisted and broken, as if they'd been hurled aside by some massive force. Snow had to pick their path carefully, testing the ground with each step before motioning Rain to follow.
They passed what looked like a waiting platform, though it was barely recognizable beneath the piles of debris and the eerie scattering of bones. Human bones, picked clean by time—or something else.
Rain's grip on Snow's hand tightened, and Snow glanced back at her, catching the flicker of fear in her eyes. "Don't look too hard," Snow said quietly. "We'll be out of here soon enough."
But the words felt hollow even to her. The deeper they went, the more the tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them, a yawning maw that promised no escape.
The silence grew heavier, pressing down on them like a physical weight. Even the sound of dripping water seemed to fade, leaving nothing but the crunch of their boots and the faint hum of the battery lamp.
And then, a noise.
It was faint at first, barely more than a whisper of movement. A faint creaking, like rusted metal bending under pressure.
Rain froze, her breath hitching. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.
Snow nodded slowly, her grip tightening on the lamp. Her other hand drifted to the longshooter slung across her back, her fingers brushing the stock. "Stay close," she murmured.
The sound grew louder, a skittering, clicking noise that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Snow turned in a slow circle, the lamp's beam sweeping across the tunnel walls.
And then she saw them.
Red eyes. Dozens of them, glowing faintly in the darkness like embers in a dying fire. They blinked in and out, moving with unnatural speed, multiplying with each passing second.
"Run," Snow said, her voice low and urgent.
Rain hesitated, her gaze locked on the glowing eyes.
"Rain!" Snow shouted, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. "Run!"
They sprinted down the tunnel, their boots pounding against the uneven ground. The glow of the lamp swung wildly in Snow's grip, casting frantic shadows that danced across the walls.
Behind them, the skittering grew louder, the sound of countless legs scraping against the concrete. The red eyes moved closer, faster than should have been possible, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
"What are they?!" Rain shouted, her voice rising in panic.
"I don't know!" Snow yelled back. "And I don't want to find out!"
The tunnel twisted sharply, and Snow yanked Rain to the side, nearly dragging her off her feet as they rounded the corner. The sound of the creatures' pursuit filled the air, a cacophony of clicks and creaks and guttural hisses.
Rain stumbled, nearly falling, but Snow caught her, pulling her upright. "Keep going!" Snow urged. "Don't stop!"
Rain nodded, her face pale but determined, and together they ran, the creatures closing in behind them, the tunnel ahead offering no promise of safety.
————————————————————————————————————————————
The glow of the red eyes grew brighter, their numbers swelling as the creatures poured into the tunnel behind them. Snow risked a glance over her shoulder, and what she saw made her blood run cold.
The first of the creatures scurried into the light of Snow's flickering lamp, and she nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. Rats. Just rats. They weren't monstrous mutants or ancient machines as her mind had conjured in the panic of flight. But as more of them poured into view, her amusement evaporated like morning dew.
These weren't normal rats. They were larger, nearly the size of cats, their fur bristling in matted tufts of brown and black. Their eyes glowed an unnatural red in the dim light, and their fangs jutted slightly longer than their ancient ancestors', gleaming wet and sharp as they chittered hungrily.
"Ratlings," Snow muttered under her breath. She'd heard of them—scavenger predators that infested forgotten places like this, feeding on carrion, bones, or anything unfortunate enough to cross their paths. The stories hadn't done them justice.
"Snow, what—what are they?" Rain's voice came from somewhere ahead, trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief.
"Nothing good!" Snow barked, pushing Rain forward. "Run! Keep going!"
Rain hesitated for a heartbeat too long, her wide eyes locked on the writhing, chittering mass of Ratlings swarming into the tunnel behind them. Snow shoved her gently but firmly. "I said run!"
Rain stumbled forward, gripping the strap of her pack tightly as she obeyed, her boots slapping against the cracked concrete. Snow slowed her pace, spinning around to face the oncoming swarm.
The Ratlings surged forward, their tiny claws scraping against the floor, their teeth snapping with feral hunger. Snow dropped the battery lamp at her feet, the faint light casting flickering shadows on the tunnel walls. She unslung her latest purchase from Greybranch: a sprayer filled with fuel gas, its nozzle rigged to spray a fine mist, and a small, well-used lighter in her other hand.
The merchant's words echoed in her mind: "If you're heading into the metro, you'll want one of these. Nasty things down there, things that don't die easy. Fire's the best way to deal with them."
Snow thumbed the lighter, its tiny flame springing to life. She held it close to the sprayer's nozzle, aiming at the advancing swarm. The lead Ratlings were only a few paces away, their red eyes gleaming with malicious intent.
"Alright, you little bastards," she growled through gritted teeth. "Let's see how you like this."
She squeezed the trigger on the sprayer.
The fuel gas ignited instantly as it passed through the lighter's flame, erupting into a roaring jet of fire that lit up the tunnel in a searing blaze. The lead Ratlings screamed—high-pitched, chittering shrieks of agony—as the fire engulfed them, their bodies curling and blackening in the intense heat. The flames swept outward in a cone, creating a temporary wall of fire that held back the rest of the swarm.
Rain froze mid-step, turning back to stare at the inferno in wide-eyed horror. The tunnel was alive with light and sound: the roar of the flames, the screeching of burning Ratlings, and the acrid stench of charred fur and flesh.
"Rain!" Snow shouted over her shoulder, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Keep moving! Don't just stand there!"
Rain flinched, her gaze snapping to Snow's face. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue, but the determination in Snow's eyes left no room for debate. She turned and ran, her steps quicker and more focused now, disappearing into the dim light ahead.
Snow gritted her teeth, sweeping the Fire Tin in a wide arc to catch more of the advancing Ratlings. The creatures hesitated at the edge of the flames, their glowing eyes darting back and forth as they tried to find a way around the fire.
The Fire Tin's fuel gas was running low; she could feel it in the diminishing weight of the sprayer. Snow cursed under her breath, squeezing the trigger in short bursts to conserve what little was left. The flames sputtered slightly but still held the swarm at bay.
When the sprayer finally sputtered dry, Snow didn't hesitate. She unscrewed the cap, lit the nozzle with her lighter, and hurled the canister into the wall of flames.
The explosion was small but effective. The contents ignited all at once, creating a burst of fire that sent several Ratlings shrieking and scurrying back into the darkness. For a brief moment, Snow allowed herself a grim smile of satisfaction.
But the victory was short-lived.
From the cracks and crevices along the walls and ceiling, more Ratlings began to emerge, their red eyes glowing like tiny lanterns in the darkness. They didn't charge immediately, as if they were learning from their burned brethren, but their presence was enough to set Snow's nerves alight.
"Rain!" Snow shouted, her voice echoing down the tunnel. "Tell me you've found something!"
"I'm trying!" Rain's voice came from up ahead, shaky but determined. Snow squinted and saw her struggling with the doors of an ancient metro train, its once-shiny surface now rusted and pockmarked with time. The door mechanism was jammed, and Rain was pulling at it with all her strength.
Snow sprinted toward her, her heart pounding. The Ratlings behind her began to advance again, their numbers swelling as more of them poured in from hidden nests. Their chittering grew louder, more frenzied, as if they could sense the prey slipping out of reach.
"Snow!" Rain shouted, glancing back with wide, frightened eyes.
"Keep pulling!" Snow barked, skidding to a halt beside her. She slammed her shoulder into the doors, adding her weight to Rain's efforts. The metal groaned but didn't budge.
The Ratlings were closing in now, their glowing eyes forming a sea of red in the darkness. Snow could feel the heat of their breath, hear the scrape of their claws against the concrete.
"Come on, you rusted piece of junk!" Snow growled, bracing herself and pulling with all her might.
With a final, ear-splitting screech, the doors gave way, sliding open just wide enough for them to squeeze through.
"Go!" Snow shouted, shoving Rain inside.
Rain stumbled into the train car, turning back to reach for Snow. Snow dove through the gap just as the first Ratlings lunged, their snapping jaws missing her heels by inches.
Snow kicked the doors shut, slamming them against the advancing swarm. The Ratlings scratched and clawed at the metal, their chittering growing more frantic as they tried to force their way inside.
Snow and Rain scrambled back, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they watched the swarm through the grime-covered windows. The Ratlings didn't retreat, their glowing eyes staring hungrily at the two girls, but for now, the metal walls of the train car held firm.
Snow collapsed against the wall, clutching her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Rain sat beside her, trembling but alive.
"That," Snow panted, "was way too close."
Rain nodded silently, her wide eyes still fixed on the swarm outside.
Snow glanced at her, her expression softening. "You okay?"
Rain hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I… I think so."
Snow reached over, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure this train isn't going to drive us to Paradise, and those little bastards aren't going anywhere."
Rain managed a weak smile, her fear giving way to a flicker of determination. "Then we'll figure something out. Together."
Snow gave her a wry grin. "Together."