The shaft opened up into a large junction chamber. This was the heart of the ventilation system.
Blocking the exit—the only way up to the Penthouse level—was a monstrosity.
It looked like a rat, but only in shape. It was a chaotic, writhing mass of black cables, broken computer monitors, tangled Christmas lights, and rusted speaker parts. It was the size of a bear.
Two red lights on a broken circuit board served as its eyes.
"NOAH," the thing spoke. Its voice was a chorus of radio static, changing frequencies with every word. "RETURN TO YOUR CUSHION. THE SHOW IS NOT OVER."
"What is that?" Noah gasped, backing up against the wall.
"The Rat King," Mittens hissed. "It's a clog. A clog of bad data. It eats rejected thoughts."
The Rat King lunged. A tentacle made of extension cords whipped out, cracking like a whip. Noah dove to the side, the cords smashing into the metal wall where his head had been a second ago.
"YOU PROMISED TO SAVE HER," the Rat King shrieked, the voice shifting to sound like a weeping woman—Noah's wife. "YOU PROMISED. YOU FAILED. SHE IS COLD, NOAH. SHE IS SO COLD."
"Shut up!" Noah yelled. He reached for a loose pipe on the floor, wielding it like a club.
"GO BACK TO SLEEP," the monster roared. "THE CANDY TASTES GOOD. THE DREAM IS SAFE."
It lunged again. This time, Noah didn't dodge. He swung the pipe.
CLANG.
He hit the mass of wires. Sparks showered down. The Rat King recoiled, screeching in the sound of dial-up internet connection.
"It's made of junk!" Noah realized. "It's just noise! It's just the things I'm afraid to say!"
"Unplug it!" Mittens shouted, leaping onto the monster's back and clawing at the insulation.
Noah saw it—a thick, pulsing power cable running from the Rat King's "spine" into the wall.
He dropped the pipe and ran forward. The monster whipped its cables at him, lashing his arms and face, drawing blood. Noah didn't stop. He grabbed the thick power cable with both hands.
"NO! DON'T! THE SILENCE WILL KILL YOU!" the Rat King pleaded, its voice turning into a child's whimper. "If you unplug me, you'll be alone!"
"I'm already alone," Noah grunted.
He planted his feet and pulled. He screamed with the effort, channeling every ounce of his grief, his rage, and his love into the motion.
SNAP.
The cable tore free from the wall.
The red eyes flickered. The chorus of voices slowed down, dropping in pitch until they were a low, demonic groan.
"Daaaddddyyyy...."
The lights went out. The Rat King collapsed, instantly turning into nothing more than a pile of garbage. Just wires. Just trash.
Noah fell to his knees, panting. The silence that followed was heavy, but it was clean.
"You okay?" Mittens asked, hopping down from the pile.
"Yeah," Noah whispered, wiping blood from his cheek. "I'm okay. It was just a machine."
"Let's go," Mittens said quietly. "The door is just up ahead."