For a while, the world forgot about the Crimson Rats again.Their stall rotted in a forgotten alley, and the only ones who remembered their names were beggars who owed them debts.Even the city's shadows seemed to mock them.
But failure—like hunger—never truly died.It fermented.
Another Bad Batch
Luminous stirred the cauldron with her hair tied back, eyes half-closed from exhaustion.The room reeked of scorched herbs and iron.
Daniel leaned against a crate, flipping coins that didn't exist. "You know, we could just sell the smell. Call it 'Eau de Regret.'"
"If sarcasm could pay rent," Lumiel muttered, "we'd be nobles by now."
Cartethyia's voice hummed through the air like static through silk.
[Reaction incomplete. Mixing ratios inconsistent. Suggest recalibration.]"Suggest we had money for calibration."[Suggest you stop talking and stir clockwise.]
He obeyed—mostly to annoy her less.
Something shifted in the cauldron. The surface rippled, then dimmed to black.
"That's new," Luminous said cautiously."Or bad," Daniel added."Everything starts bad," Lumiel replied. "Then it gets worse. Then it sells."
He poured the liquid into a bottle. It hissed faintly, glowing from within like a dying ember.
They called it Red Vein No. 9.And promptly forgot about it.
The Man Who Couldn't Feel
Three nights later, a limping vampire found their stall again — one of the few customers who'd ever come back.He looked worse than before: pale, trembling, eyes empty.
"I can't feel anything," he rasped. "Not hunger, not hate. Just cold.""Then you'll love this," Lumiel said, handing him the last bottle of No. 9."Free sample?""Desperation discount."
The man drank it and froze.Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Warm… it's warm."
He laughed—actually laughed—like a man who'd forgotten what joy was.He dropped a handful of blood coins on the table and stumbled away, shouting into the night,
"The Rats sell warmth!"
The Market Turns
By dawn, the alley was crowded.Lowbloods. Street-wives. Feral vampires with tattered cloaks.They lined up with shaking hands and dead eyes, begging for a sip of that warmth.
Daniel looked panicked. "We don't have enough!"
"Then we make more," Lumiel said, already uncorking bottles."We don't even know what it is!""Exactly. That's why it works."
Luminous mixed feverishly while Lumiel rewrote the runes midair, sparks of Red Code glowing above the pot.Cartethyia's voice wavered between admiration and alarm.
[Warning: spontaneous reaction forming new compounds. Unknown side effects.]"What kind?"[Possibly joy. Possibly death. Hard to tell.]"We'll risk joy."
They brewed through the night.
The Red Vein
By the next evening, the alley had changed.Laughter—real laughter—echoed between the walls.The outcasts called the potion "The Red Vein."
It didn't heal.It didn't grant power.It just made them feel alive again.
That was enough.
They earned more blood coins in one night than in the past three months.
Luminous smiled weakly. "We're… helping people."Lumiel didn't answer. He just stared at his hands, the faint pulse of Red Code under his skin.
[Observation: You created an emotional stimulant. You've given the undead the illusion of life.]"Illusion's a good start," he murmured.[It's dangerous.]"Everything that matters is."
The Uninvited Guests
At midnight, the nobles came.Four of them, cloaked in black and silver.They didn't buy. They watched.
One leaned close to Lumiel's stall, smiling without warmth.
"Selling feelings now, Rat?""You should try one sometime," Lumiel replied."Careful. You're feeding the city what we worked centuries to starve out."
The noble turned away, but his eyes lingered—curious, calculating.
Cartethyia whispered softly:
[They will not ignore you again.]"Good," Lumiel said. "I'm done being invisible."
Closing Scene
Later, after the crowd dispersed and the coins were counted, Lumiel sat alone on the cobblestones.The laughter had faded, but the warmth remained — faint, stubborn, real.
He stared at the potion's red glow, thinking about what it meant.
"We made something no one else could," he whispered.[Yes.]"We gave life to the dead."[No. You reminded them they once had it.]
Lumiel smiled faintly. "Same difference."
Above, the city's blood rivers pulsed brighter, as if in answer.And in the reflection of the nearest puddle, Cartethyia's eyes flickered softly —half code, half compassion.