"Order! Order!" shouted Lord Chancellor as he struck his gavel on the desk. Sitting of the House of Lords - the ruling council of Grobodia - was pretty chaotic today, as was expected: the three main factions of the house each proposed controversial legislation. After an hour of heated discussion, the first legislation was still being debated.

  This proposition was about establishing a new religion - The Church of Infertility - to combat rapid population growth in the kingdom and possible food shortages caused by it. While it was a solution to the problem, it obviously wasn't the solution that many were looking for. Followers and sympathizers of Fertility argued that it might reduce the crop yield and make their situation even more dire. Instead, they offered to support Fertility, which might benefit the farmers and increase fields' production.

  Another possible fix was brought up, which consisted of waging a small war with a neighboring country of Dzelk, which was facing the same problem and was pretty much on board with this, albeit neither country trusted the other to fall back to their original borders in case it won and seized some of the regions of their adversary. While the solution was almost perfect in every sense, neither of the countries' ruling bodies wanted to start a war they might end up losing: it was considered a bad move by the citizens and could lead to an uprising or a revolution, which were not as controlled as a small friendly war between two nations.

  Anyhow, everyone was getting tired of this discussion, and most were just waiting for fifteen extra minutes until the break would be announced so that they could leave this dimly lit chamber (to bring out feelings of importance and mysticism, as well as to allow any member too tired of making important political decisions to take a quick nap without being disturbed) to get their first meal of the day which consisted of lobster soup and pancakes with elderberry jam and whipped cream - everyone's favourite.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, I call for order! Let's keep the discussion civil and try reaching a preliminary consensus before the break," the Lord Chancellor shouted over the cacophony of voices that filled the room.

  "Lord Chancellor, we've talked about it many times: could you restrain yourself from using gendered language and use a neutral form of "ratfolk" for Gods' sake?" shrieked a small grey rat in a purple gown - Alice - who represented a faction supported mainly by the younger generation. That interruption quickly killed all semblance of productive discussion and again turned the chamber into pandemonium.

  "Order! ORDER!" shouted Lord Chancellor with dissatisfaction written all over his face, but inside... oh, on the inside, he felt so happy and anxious like a young ratling going on his first date.

  You see, about four months ago, he learned that his primary opponent's son, next in line in the house Veluzi, had quite a peculiar and pretty much illegal little hobby. Young Sozos was sixteen and going through the phase many young aristocrats go through: doing something stupid that puts their whole family at risk. Once he discovered that hobby of Sozos Veluzi, he instantly got to planning. It took him three whole months to conceive a solid plan, and then another month went into gently pulling strings through his agents, agents of his agents, and homeless vagabond rats hired by the agents of his agents' agents so that nothing could point back at him.

  Today, he needed this sitting to take as long as possible so that he would be nowhere near the office for the next several hours. One of the most complex parts was getting all three factions to move forward with legislation that could take at least several days to discuss and agree on so that even if some miracle happened and consensus had been reached in a reasonable time, he'd still be within his timeline. He was a shrewd old rat, and his age showed everyone that his modus operandi, not taking any risk when you have the luxury of time to overprepare, was a good fit for him.

  The office in question was in the southern wing of the same building, which used to be a royal palace back in the days of the monarchy. After the last monarch abdicated (which was a wise choice that allowed him to keep his head and some of his family's earthly possessions, much to the disappointment of a rather angry crowd consisting of peasants with torches and pitchforks - it was during daytime, so torch's were more or less for the dramatic effect - and somewhat decently armed militia, which gathered outside of the palace demanding royal blood to be spilled in an entertaining fashion), the palace's southern wing became mostly offices for various lords, clerks and servers.

  It also hosted several cafeterias (some of them could even rival the city's best restaurants), a large gym, which doubled down as a rat playground, and even a kindergarten, a fencing school, a regular school, and a college - all of them for lords' kids (sometimes staff members offspring could get there but it mainly depended on whether or not there were enough royal students in the first place), not to mention a modest dormitory for the staff.

  The northern wing was dedicated to the living quarters for the lords and their closest families, which currently housed five different noble families, with three having their own floor and the last two small families having the floor divided between them. That place was packed to the brim, with each family member only having about 70 square yards of space on average, the most popular small talk around being "How are we supposed to live in such conditions?" instead of the weather. The central part housed the chamber of lords, where this session was taking place, as well as a small museum, temple of all gods (dedicated to no particular deity, so that anyone could satisfy their religious needs there), and some other smaller rooms like storage spaces, armoury and so on.

  Marble-finished halls of the southern wing were primarily quiet this evening, save for the clutter of kitchenware and shouting of chefs coming out of the cafeteria tasked with meal preparation.

  Guards on duty usually kept silent: as a rule, they got paired with the same people, and by the end of their hundredth shift together, there was little to discuss. They couldn't do anything interesting on the job (and were eager to get as far away from each other as after the shift was over), nothing new to speak of (unless there was a rotation of hookers at the local whorehouse, which was always a big deal, celebrated as the most significant holidays, if not more) and couldn't get a rest from each other for a period of time, longer than a bathroom break, so, all in all, it felt like a dull marriage minus the sex, or just like a regular marriage if you're really unlucky.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  However, if one were to fly a tad above and peek into a ventilation shaft, they'd be surprised with a completely different picture. The shafts were the liveliest they've ever been since the day they were built (except for seasonal cleaning, but the cleaners usually went alone and scrubbed their sections of the airways), with four ratkins slowly making their progress in the direction of the Lord Chancellor's office.

  "Soz, you fucking twat, how did you manage to drag me into this? You're gonna get us all killed!" whispered ratkin, with so many colours in his fur that he resembled a blanket sewn from the remainders of worn-out clothes, which was usually their final decent role, before becoming patches and rags for mopping the floor.

  "Sv?rd, I promise you: once we pull this off, we'll be settled for life," whispered back the ratkin in the front.

  "You're already settled for life, you cunt! Did you forget that you're the son of one of the most influential people in the country? If, or rather, when we get caught - all you'd get is a slap on the wrist. We'll probably get executed without as much as a trial!" Sv?rd snapped back.

  "Look, Sv?rd, so far, my information has been on point: we found the secret entrance, avoided attracting any attention, and as far as I can tell, my map is leading us directly to our destination. Have I ever let you guys down?"

  "Shut up, you dimwits, or by Xephos, I'll strangle you with my tail," said a young rat girl who was crawling in the second place of their little ventilation expedition.

  "Hgh," giggled the rat crawling in third place, who had clean white fur, at least under all the dust that stuck on him during this venture.

  "You can't reach me, Jose, and Soz is in front of you, so I call that a fucking bluff," Sv?rd replied, proud of finally coming up with a witty answer the moment the situation took place rather than later in the shower, replaying the dialogue over and over in his head.

  "One more word that's not related to our mission here, and I'm poking your eyes out. I'm dead serious now," replied Josephine, looking back down the shaft.

  Those four had been friends for ages now despite having different upbringings and social statuses: Josephine, the daughter of a seamstress whose dad died in a war before she was even born; Marik, the 4th son of a farmer; Sv?rd, the orphan (which pretty much showed in his vocabulary) and Sozos, son of a lord, who was eager to make his father view him as equal. Growing up in a noble house sure has its benefits, like never knowing the need for anything but your father's attention. You never go to bed hungry; you never have to wear old and poorly fitted clothes, and you never hear your papa say "I love you, rattskling" after you've fallen asleep while he is reading you a bedtime story. In that regard, he was really jealous of Marik: he never learned about their family's struggles, but Sozos saw the unconditional love and support for each other, the things he yearned for most.

  The group's banter was just a way to compose themselves: it was the biggest heist not only of their lives but probably the biggest one ever attempted in the whole kingdom. The group's, or rather Sozos' informant, Jared, recently came up with something big. What started with him overhearing a conversation of two of the Lord Chancellors agents at their meeting place under a bridge, where he coincidentally was sleeping in a garbage pile after a night of heavy drinking, which followed by him conducting a lengthy investigation and ended with the discovery of a dark secret that he couldn't keep for himself, so after contemplating for a while, he sent a message to his old accomplice Sozos and started looking for the royal palace's plans.

  The group in the shaft was after the documents in the Lord Chancellor's safe, the documents that would reveal him as a traitor working for another nation. These documents would finally oust him so Sozos' father could replace him as the Lord Chancellor and make positive changes in the world. It was a dangerous game with high stakes, but they'd change the world for generations to come when they'd succeed. So far, everything was going according to plan and even better than in simulations they did using Ratkins and Dragons ruleset (they still played the 2nd edition despite the game receiving several new ones - it was far more deadly and way more fun).

  "Get ready; we're almost there," said Sozos before turning the corner and hitting what seemed like a dead end a couple of yards ahead. "Marik, pass me the magical torch now."

  "Guys, I've got a bad feeling about this one; we can still turn back," said Marik, still passing the torch forward.

  "Yeah, let's fucking turn back and call that a good evening's promenade. We've been crawling through those god-forsaken tunnels at least for an hour now. And while you're contemplating this, go ahead and name me a single time you felt good about anything, you dastardly asshole."

  "Shhh, I need to focus," whispered Sozos as he grabbed the torch from Jose. He bent it almost ninety degrees, at which point the torch started irradiating a weird light, painting everything around it in a sickly light-blue hue. Seconds passed in an absolute silence before... "I see the runes!" almost shouted Sozos in his excitement as some symbols started glowing on the wall right in front of him, reacting to the torch's light.

  He took out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket, unfolded it, and started whispering something to himself, moving his hands over the symbols, preparing to enter some sort of a code. For several minutes straight, he was practicing, muttering something under his breath and placing his hand in different positions over the glowing runes, which looked like a mage casting a complex spell that could either make you an invincible giant or put a terrible curse over you for a lifetime or just simply make your buttox itchy for an hour - it shows how complex the magic was and even the most useless spells like producing a single drop of water out of thin air required lots and lots of knowledge, preparation and effort on mage's behalf.

  "Okay, think I've got it," he said as he pressed three of the glowing runes at once, producing an audible click from somewhere in the walls. He paused for a few seconds before pressing at two others simultaneously, which was followed by another clicking sound. Lastly, he pressed 5 of the symbols together, which required well-timed use of his tail. This time, there was no click rather then suddenly, a latch leading downwards opened right underneath him as he was almost sent flying down, only managing to grab the latch cover, preventing it from hitting the wall and causing a loud noise, with his left arm, while grabbing onto a bar with his right one, with the rest of the group catching him by the legs from behind.

  After pulling their leader back to the shaft, they sat in silence for a moment, breathing heavily, waiting for their pulse to drop back to normal.

  It was the moment they finally realized that everything was for real and a point of no return had been passed.

  "I can't believe it actually worked," Marik broke the silence, a little sad that this adventure didn't turn into a fun night.

  After regaining their composure, the rats went down using the bars that previously saved Sozos from falling, only to find themselves in a small dusty room, with the only piece of furniture being a lonely lever in the corner. Sozos put his hand on it and looked at his comrades, each giving him an affirming nod.

  "Here goes nothing," he said as he pulled it down.