I have a confession to make. I... am a criminal. Throughout my entire life, I have committed my fair share of illegal acts, offences, riots, rebellions, protests, the list goes on, but let's just talk about this first one.

As a Rat, the lowest of lows, I'm meant to stay with other Rats. Jobs include working in factories, doing labor, selling myself, etcetera. We live on the streets or in shacks, eating whatever we can get.

Yet, here I am. In a house. Granted, it's not amazing, but between the orange-brown wood, house planets decorating the corners, digital additions, laboratory, rugs, magazines sprawled out on the various tables, and homey smell, it's better than nothing. I'd say it's surprisingly impressive as a matter of fact, having not one but two stories, two bedrooms, two and a half baths, a star-room, lab, living room, and fully functional kitchen.

And, yep, there it is. On time as usual. I can smell breakfast downstairs. This place may be small, but from the coziness and fragrances, it's clear that's part of its charm.

That lab wasn't even supposed to be there. It was added for me. I am a mechanic after all. ...Of all things.

But that also means that this. All of this? It isn't normal.

Now that brings us to how, one may ask, is this even possible? I'm a Rat. I'm not supposed to have these types of luxuries. But it is because I, Ziia'Erka Vloknersch—Zii for short, am a criminal.

Truth is, this isn't my house. And that's not my food. It's actually my close friend and brother figure, Tatsy's house. While this may seem perfectly innocent, he is a Bird. And it is strictly forbidden for us to interact in any way outside of an approved business contract.

Next, one may ask why? And do I care? The answer is no. I don't care. Because that rule is a completely and utterly ridiculous notion. As for why, it's because this is the man who took me in when my mother died. Me. A street rat. And for that, I thank him and repay him every day.

So as I make my way downstairs to eat breakfast, making sure to stay hidden from watchful government eyes, I ponder.

I always contemplate this—always have. Why is it illegal? Why do they care what we do? They've never shown any interest before. But the moment classes are involved, everyone's suspicious, and everyone cares.

I say it's because they're hiding something. Tatsy thinks that's a stupid idea, and that I should give up on conspiracies. But I don't know. Something feels... off.

Then again, on this planet something always feels off.

I mean, think about it. Bright star, birds chirping, the giant purple planet in the red horizon. Ah yes. How perfectly normal.

All sarcasm aside, though, it's getting increasingly more concerning. The last time we talked to someone from Rusa'Kar was decades ago, and I can't help but feel we're avoiding the problem.

...And that's sigh one out of a lot for the day. Huzzah.

Well, at least this place isn't too bad.

"Morn, Tatsy."

"Oh, Zii. You're on time for once. I hope you didn't stay up too late last night."

"Nah. Invention was giving me a hard time so I retired early."

"That's good to hear. You really need to rest more."

"Yeah, yeah. What's for breakfast today? Smells good."

"Oh, this? It's just the usual. Nothing fancy," he replies, chuckling softly.

There we are. I don't know how he does it, but he's always so kind and positive. Well, I guess I'm glad he's still able smile through everything. Nice to have some optimism in this place.

"Oh, did you hear?" he starts again.

"What?"

"That popular Ovalean blogger's visiting the Royal Plaza today."

The Royal Plaza. By far the largest city on the planet. While it's technically open to the public, it's also one of the most law-heavy, conservative, classist places ever. It surrounds the monarch's palace and thus has an extremely watchful eye. Most of the Royal Guards live around there too, so it's not a great place for lower classes.

Unfortunately, most of the really high-tech is also there, so I have to drive in once a month to get materials. It's not too hard to stay out of trouble. Follow the Eight Rules, be respectful, typical stuff. But of course, me and my big mouth always has to ruin everything. I've gotten thrown into jail who knows how many times just cause of that.

"Oh, her! Uh, what's her face. On the interweb. Um, c'mon... Ah! Elbony Rakshire, right?"

"That's her. Something about 'discovering the secrets of Thei'Kar.'"

"Ha! She's gonna find a lot of them then. Considering our government's sh–"

"Hold that thought. Did the bell just ring?"

"Inspectors? What day is it? I thought inspection's later in the week."

"It is... Why don't you take the food upstairs and lay low? I'll take care of this."

"I'll be in the lab instead. Don't get into too much trouble."

"I should be the one saying that to you."

"Fair enough," I sigh, leaving the table and entering the lab in the back.

Flicking on the lights, I’m met with the mess from the previous night. The soft buzzing in the background urges me to look over to a small, restless cube. As it shakes and jumps, eager for some sort of job, a small smirk finds its way onto my face.

Reaching out to open the clump of metal, a quarter-sized eight-legged creature crawls onto my hand. Etched into its back is a logo reading “Esinyo Enterprises.”

Spider-Spies. The little bots were made ages ago by brilliant engineer, Dr. Esinyo Matorium. Multiple of his franchises are around, but Esinyo Enterprises was his baby. These are the people who ventured the vast frontier and pioneered their way into some of the most popular and well-known spy-bots and nanotech today.

As I let the bot fall to the floor, it scrambles back into the living room, the following scene popping up on the monitor.

Tatsy's standing there with two—no, three—officers outside. Each of them is wearing a black and red uniform that covers almost everything. If they have some sort of mutational marking on their arms or face, it’s hidden from sight. And then there's that symbol. A little patch over their hearts with the Royal's crest embroidered in glimmering lace to symbolize their loyalty to the crown.

A gentle voice breaks the silence first. "Oh, hello, officers. How can I help you today?" While firm in his question, there was no denying the quiet stutter that made its way into Tatsy’s tone. Ever so subtle that it could fly over the Royal Guards’ heads without them ever noticing, but clear enough for me to know that he’s thinking twice about the words he says.

"We received word that you're hiding a Rat in here."

"M-me? Hide a Rat? With all due respect, sir, you must be mistaken. I live a stable Bird life as a small-time scientist. I wouldn't dream of risking that for a pesky, dirty, little, useless Karier."

Ouch. That stings. I know he doesn't mean it and is just playing along, but it still hurts. What is up with that? Why do we have to be useless just cause we don't have fancy mutations? We're still equally capable of success. Ugh, and that's sigh three. This is gonna be a looooong day.

"Yes. Quite. Then I assume you wouldn't mind us looking around?"

A moment of silence, brief but impactful.

I could feel myself tense ever so slightly as one of the officers’ eyebrows shot up.

"…Of course not. M-make yourself at home. Would you like some tea, officers? I'm brewing a pot currently."

"…Yes, that would be wonderful."

Aaand that's my cue to bolt. If they're looking around, it'd be best if I'm not here. I scramble to call back the Spider-Spy, tossing it back into the box and hastily turning the computer off. I need to trust that Tatsy can handle this himself. I’d just cause more trouble if I’m here.

Sending out a mental plea that the window won’t be too loud, I slip out, quietly closing it behind me. Up ahead is a dazzling vehicle with a rolled-down window. It’s just begging to be stolen.

They should be stuck exploring for some time, right? …What’s the harm?

On a more serious note, though, I need to make sure not to get caught, otherwise this is gonna go on my record. Stealing and avoiding an inspection. And not to forget that'd it'd basically be my fault Tatsy gets charged for commiserating with and hiding a Rat in his place.

Maybe I can head to the mountains... Nobody really lives the– I give a sudden yelp, slamming my hand against my mouth and glancing over to the house to see if anyone heard.

One second passes.

Then another.

Then another, and I can feel my heart rate slow back down a bit. “Screw hotwiring…” I mutter, sighing yet again. Dammit, that’s another one, isn’t it?

At least this darling’s running now. Ironic how things work out sometimes. I’m using their vehicle to get far, far away from those guys. No matter, I think I’m in the clear. …We’ll see how long that lasts.