I walk in silence down the street at midnight… At least, that's what I wanted to do.
["Are we going to be okay?"]
["Where are we going?"]
["Is it much further?"]
Behind me, there's a ruckus, and I've already given up: I just keep walking.
[…]
I stop and look at the five girls who are a little behind me.
[[[[—We're sorry…]]]]
They apologize obediently. They're not the ones making noise: the problem is the group of students following a few meters behind us, like a stampede with backpacks.
[…]
I raise a finger to complain… and in the end, I just keep walking.
["This happened because you all wanted to show off."]
[[[[—Sorry…]]]]
Since they warned the group about the problem with their stupid plan, they somehow ended up following us the whole damn way.
I didn't bring any salt to throw at them. Telling them "shoo" doesn't work either.
Do these sons of bitches really think we're alone in the city?
This is why I hate normies.
There are still people hidden in their houses, and they aren't necessarily friendly, damn it.
In an apocalypse, everything that breathes is an enemy until proven otherwise.
In a situation like this, the best skill you can acquire is "invisibility."
Is that really so hard to understand?
["Grii… rii…"]
As I was cursing my damn bad luck, three giant rats turn the corner.
Greasy fur, gray eyes like wet marbles, a smell of ammonia.
["Hii!"]
["Kyaa!"]
["What is that?"]
The annoying group makes another commotion.
["It seems they came straight for us…"] —Louise murmurs, hiding behind me. The others imitate her.
["If you make so much noise, anyone would come for the easy buffet."]
[[[[Sorry…]]]]
I ignore the girls and watch the rats, motionless, measuring the distance.
The three of them weren't looking at all of us. They were looking at me. Not with hunger, but with a kind of evaluating caution. The one in the center lifted its snout slightly. It wasn't a threat. It was a question.
I nod.
They nod back, and an instant later, I keep walking.
It's not my territory. I'm leaving.
["S-sss… can you communicate with those things?"] —the delinquent girl asks, uneasy. The rest look at us as if they've just seen a cheap magic trick.
["We rat kids don't interfere with each other. Unless you want to be hostile in someone else's territory."]
["Rat kid? What?"] —Kiti—
["You really see them as equals, don't you?"] —Louise—
["They're not my equals. They're rat kids who have nothing to do with me."]
["Ahhh, that's so you…"] —Louise—
["Wait! What are you two talking about?"]
The genius girl grumbles, but I ignore her and move on.
The five of them stick close to me and walk carefully, casting glances at the rats.
["Kyaa!"]
["Wait, don't leave us here!"]
["Nooo, help!"]
The students behind them shriek as the three rats surround them, testing for an attack.
["Aren't you going to help them?"]
["And how does that benefit the rat kid?"]
["Cruel."]
In fact, the further they get from me, the safer I'll be.
["GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"]
A sudden roar cuts through the air from behind. So loud it makes the windows vibrate, as if the air itself were shattering.
From the top of a lamppost, a huge shadow falls. A colossal feline, dark as crude oil, lands on the asphalt with claws that leave marks in the concrete. Yellow eyes, too large, pupils like blades.
The rats shriek, backing away. The students scream, tripping over each other.
The Fera Feline surpasses them in size, in presence, in everything. Its body seems to float, even though it must weigh tons, every muscle a loaded spring. And when it roars again, even my stomach clenches.
["Fera Feline…"] —Louise whispers. Yep, she read the Journal.
Plack.
["GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"]
I ignore the commotion and put a hole in one of its eyes with my air rifle. The cat writhes in pain, half-blind, striking the walls with its claws and body.
Everyone alternates their gazes between the cat and me.
The scene lasted several seconds, but the cat soon calmed down.
No, it's not that it calmed down: now it's simply focusing all its pain and hatred on one target: wrecking me.
["GRAAAAAAAAAAA"]
It growls again.
["Don't you give me that ugly growl!"]
Plack.
["GRAAAAAAAAAA—"]
I burst its other eye.
Honestly, I didn't think it would work the second time.
Some nerds might give a convoluted explanation for this situation, something like how predators at the top of the food chain don't expect their prey to fight back, making them arrogant and slow to react.
But the rat kid knows the truth.
These stupid apocalyptic animals definitely don't know how a modern weapon works.
It's either that, or this guy is just dumb.
With the chicken, I get it: I don't expect intelligence from a chicken. But I expected more from a cat.
Does size equal stupid?
Anyway, now it's really pissed off, slamming its huge body against walls and thrashing in the street.
The students, pale, don't know whether to run or pray.
But it's not my problem.
I look back at the rats. They return an uneasy gaze, and I nod.
["Did you… did you just sell a favor to a bunch of giant rats?"] —the delinquent asks.
["You never know when it might come in handy."]
["If you're going to sell favors, at least sell them to humans…"]
["And how did that work out for you?"]
["…I'm tired of this conversation."]
["Kekeke, I'm starting to like you."]
I continue on my way.
I left behind the Fera Feline, pawing at the empty air, furious.
The rats surround it, their whiskers trembling with anticipation.
The street smells of iron, urine, and fear.
The urine part might be my underwear, but nobody has to know that.
.....................…..
(Note: The following monster profile is a version from this chapter and may differ from updated entries.)
JOURNAL ENTRY NO: 249
SCIENTIFIC NAME: Fera Feline
REGIONAL ALIASES:
Latin America: El Rey de las Azoteas (The King of the Rooftops)
Industrial Zones (Anglo): The Concrete Lynx
Scavenger Nickname: The Shadow-Cutter
NICKNAME (ASTRAD): Satan's Kitty
📊 THREAT ASSESSMENT
CLASSIFICATION: VENATOR / TERRITORIALIS
The profile of the urban apex predator. Its nature is that of a hunter, but its conduct is that of a king. The rooftops, beams, and cables of the city are its kingdom, and everything that moves within it—rats, survivors, drones—is either a vassal or an appetizer. It doesn't invade your territory; you're the one invading its.
DANGER LEVEL: ORANGE (1 star)
A 1-star Orange that redefines the rules of stealth. You don't die in a fight; you die in an ambush you had no idea was coming. Your weapons only matter if you know where to aim, and against this thing, by the time you know, it's already too late. It's the 'Game Over' you never saw coming.
AGGRESSIVENESS LEVEL: OPPORTUNISTIC
Its aggressiveness is that of a professional, not a thug. It hunts with surgical efficiency to feed or eliminate competition in its vast aerial territory. It doesn't waste energy. If it's pursuing you insistently, it's not out of hunger; it's because you've done something to personally offend it, and it has decided you're a bad tenant.
🧬 COMBAT FILE (TL;DR)
TYPE: Beast
AFFINITY: Shadow / Wind / Earth
🎯 PRIMARY WEAKNESSES:
Intense and sudden light (flashbangs), Sustained high-frequency sound, Open, flat terrain (loses tactical advantage).
📌 KEY STRENGTHS:
Absolute stealth, Extreme vertical mobility, Lethal ambush from blind spots, Hypersensory senses (vision, hearing, vibration).
📚 ORIGINS AND COMPARATIVE MYTHOLOGY
Egyptian Mythology: It's a post-apocalyptic and brutalist version of Bastet, the cat goddess. A guardian of the night and the city, but stripped of all benevolence.
Japanese Folklore: It shares traits with the Bakeneko, supernatural cats that grow in size and power. This one seems to have skipped the folklore part and gone straight to the horror documentary.
Cryptozoology: It's linked to pre-apocalyptic reports of "Alien Big Cats" or "Phantom Cats" sighted in urban areas, which were dismissed as hysteria at the time. Turns out the hysteria had claws the size of knives.
Astrad's Analysis: It's the logical evolution. Cats dominated the internet. It was only a matter of time before they decided to dominate the real-world food chain too.
📝 DETAILED ANALYSIS
PHYSICAL AND SENSORY DESCRIPTION:
A colossal feline, comparable in size to a compact car, but with the slender and muscular silhouette of a panther. Its coat is a deep black that seems to absorb light, with an oily sheen that camouflages it perfectly in the urban night. Its eyes are disproportionately large, a brilliant yellow, with vertical pupils that contract like blades. Despite its enormous mass, it moves with an unnatural lightness, as if gravity were a suggestion it chooses to ignore. Its retractable claws are capable of leaving deep grooves in concrete and steel beams. Its presence is preceded by an unnatural silence—the urban fauna goes quiet—and a subtle metallic smell of dried blood.
BEHAVIOR AND ECOLOGY:
The Fera Feline is the superpredator of the vertical ecosystems of ruined cities. It patrols a vast territory of several city blocks from above, using rooftops, bridges, and industrial structures as its personal highways. It's an ambush hunter; it stalks its prey from above, waiting motionless for hours until finding the perfect moment for a single, lethal leap.
Ecological Relationships: Its primary prey is the Rattus Maximus Urbanus, which it hunts with brutal efficiency. However, this relationship is not one-sided; an injured or old Fera Feline that descends to ground level is vulnerable to a coordinated and vengeful attack by a rat clan, who will not hesitate to claim their pound of flesh. It avoids canid packs and competes directly with other flying creatures for dominance of the airspace.
☣️ PROTOCOLS
RECOMMENDED ENCOUNTER PROTOCOL:
DO:
Stay in well-lit, ground-level areas.
Pay attention to sudden silences.
Carry strobe lights or stun grenades as a deterrent.
LOOK UP.
DON'T:
Travel across rooftops at night.
Assume you're safe because you don't hear anything.
Approach suspicious claw marks. Underestimate it because "it's just a cat."
FIELD REPORT (Recovered from a security camera in a shelter in Chacao):
"The footage shows a survivor crossing an inner courtyard at night. Suddenly, a shadow on the roof of the fifth floor 'flattens' and disappears. A second later, a dull thud is heard, like a car crashing at low speed. The survivor vanishes from the frame. The camera only records silence for the next 30 minutes, until the creature is seen leaping back onto the roof with something large and dark in its jaws."
🎤 ASTRAD'S NOTES (THE ONLY SHIT THAT MATTERS):
The Fera Feline is basically the ultimate skin for a stray cat that you unlock after selling your soul to the devil: car-sized, stealth DLC enabled by default, and a roar that bugs out the air. It's the undisputed king of hardcore 'tag.'
And its relationship with the rats is the best soap opera of the apocalypse. The cat is the neighborhood bully that hunts them like they're sushi with legs. But if they see it limping, the sewer syndicate teams up and collects all its debts with interest. It's a beautiful and fucking violent ecological balance.
So, if you're thinking 'oh, what a cute little kitty' while looking at a rooftop, you better change the channel. This isn't the kind of cat that brings you a dead mouse as a gift. You're the one who just got added to the menu as the special of the day.
-----------------------
💬 Chat - Rat Kid Network
(post-files)
NR4: LOL, did you guys see the clip of the rats vs. the giant cat?
NR7: Yeah, it looked like a poorly optimized Smash Bros. match: three level-10 rats against a DLC cat boss.
NR2: That Fera Feline roared and the phone's camera lagged. The audio literally cut out.
NR8: The best part is the end: the blind cat and the rats waiting their turn like it's a UFC fight. All to end in a draw and have them walk away.
NR7: Bro, if the rats had a Twitch channel, that would be their highlight of the month.
NR3: Confirmed. The cats thought they ruled the rooftops, but now it's a shared neighborhood.
NR7: Nah, conclusion: if you see rats and a giant cat fighting, don't record, don't run, don't watch. Just switch servers.