All around him was darkness, but the smells and sounds of the world painted a vivid picture, a tapestry woven since his first squeaks and chirps. This was the world he had always known.

A sharp bite pierced his thick, matted fur. It was a new parasite, one of many that plagued him. Instinctively, he twisted to investigate with his nose, but the nuisance was just out of reach, nestled behind his neck. Chittering angrily, he rubbed himself against a rough stone wall, seeking relief.

Suddenly, his keen ears caught a sound distinct from the myriad background noises. An alien noise, the steps of something foreign to this place. It was the gait of a creature either extremely foolish or so powerful it knew no fear.

A call sounded, a chorus of chitterings and released musk summoning his brothers and sisters to converge upon the invaders. Excitement surged through him, his verminous heart beating fast as he began to salivate. His front incisors clicked to the rhythm of the hunt.

First, a trickle of rodent flesh joined him, and together they scampered across the stone floor or swam through the filthy waters of their home. He had grown a powerful new tail, asserting his dominance over those less advanced in the blessed Change, helping him swim. Long and muscular, it was no longer than a rat’s tail, but had mutated, ending in a serpent’s head that rattled and hissed.

Those blessed with a mutated tail were held in higher regard, perceived to be closer to the Father for reasons unknown to even the oldest of the brood. He noted others showing deeper signs of the Change. One rat glowed with a sickly green bioluminescence, bright enough for him to observe the myriad of compound eyes along its flanks and hindquarters, despite his poor eyesight.

His musk glands released the scent of frenzy, urging the lesser rats around him to greater speed. The trickle grew to a stream as more rats joined, galvanized by their leader's scent. He felt a stirring akin to when he first joined with a fat, healthy female, the fever-lust threatening to overtake his reason.

He focused, letting it drive but not control him.

The stream grew into a river, then a flood, as he and his brethren rushed towards their prey. The hunger, the great gift of the Father, demanded to be sated.

It demanded an end.

Standing on two legs, the intruders were tall like the vermin’s creator. They had false skin and fur, a parody of the Father’s perfection. All the intruders wielded flames, holding them up as a challenge against the darkness. The rats, a multitude, took up the challenge, bearing down upon them. The vile creatures, an angry, chittering wave of voracious rodents, crashed upon their prey.

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Despite their ravenous assault, they broke upon one of the tall ones, a giant of hard skin that gleamed and bore a long, sharp claw. It swept with blows that sundered rats as if they were paper, cleaving through their ranks like a maddened bull. Another tall one, willowy, summoned a ball of vine light that coursed through the dirty water, scalding flesh and killing the giant mutated rats by the dozen.

Lesser animals would have broken, unwilling to risk their survival against such hard targets. But these rats were of a different breed. They had a single driving force instilled in them since the first Change: a need to kill, to sacrifice others and feast upon their remains. To bring low all that was before them as offerings for the Grand Purpose.

The plague of vermin poured unceasingly over the tall ones, surrounding and enveloping them from all angles. One of the tall ones cried out, knelt, and began to mutter as its packmates protected it.

They smashed and bludgeoned the rats within their weapon's reach, clearing a space. Moments later, a semitranslucent shell formed over them, shielding them from the vermin that bit and clawed at the barrier.

The tall ones grew in confidence, the barrier a visible sign of their superiority. Their scent was steady and sure, like an alpha or first broodmother. Until the first spidery cracks appeared, spreading like the first flaws of lake ice in spring. The rats were tenacious. It was in their nature.

The tall ones’ scent changed to a heady musk of desperation and panic, throwing the rats into a redoubled frenzy. Tooth and claw continued to attack the barrier, the hunger driving them to seek the sweet flesh within. The barrier shattered in a tinkling of expended energy.

This time, the rats buried the tall ones in a flood of furred bodies. The one with the long claw fell, bowled over by the storm. Sharp incisors tore at leather straps before ripping off the hard, shiny scales. Finally, they bit into the yielding flesh.

The screams of the tall ones were barely heard over the excited frenzy of the plague. It was a banquet, a festival of iron blood and exquisite flesh.

The serpent-tailed rat fed with his brethren, gulping down the soft bits first, as was his right. His serpent hissed a warning against others who sought to challenge him.

Finally sated, he felt it: an electric thrill ran through him, a sign he was becoming closer to the Father’s image. His limbs grew longer, straighter. His muscles bulked up, and the bones of his spine began to Change. His mind grew in clarity, with new thoughts that both excited and troubled him.

For half a breath, he felt he could understand the universe and his place in it. All things must end. Another great Change was spurred by this thought. His throat began to warp and mutate. A strange desire to give voice to his purpose.

Like the first blessed twenty, the mantle of destiny had fallen upon him.

He rasped, a raw, unfamiliar sound, forced from his throat. It was barely a word, more simply a guttural cry. But, it was potent in meaning, giving glory to their creator.

It was the first word of his new kind.