to ruminate because the scratching in your walls has turned to rumbling. The tide of the rats turns. Something big is coming, and it’s almost here. It has trouble squeezing out of the shadows, and other rats help it slough up the bed frame. It slithers onto your
mattress, and you recoil in fear. The rats are back, and something is here. But I’ll tell you now, there is no need to be afraid. If you look closely, you’ll see a crown just barely glinting in the dark. It is the rat king, a tangle of tails, more of a seething Aliya Feggins, digital
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