Rats squeak and scrounge around on the damp stone floor. There’s a leak in the ceiling, and their wet fur does little to help with the dank, musky smell that permeates the air.

A delicate ear twitches, and the rats scatter—disappearing who knows where.

A door swings open and dim lantern light flickers in casting a warm glow on the cold hard floor, “Don’t try any funny business, demon,” a voice spits, accompanied by heavy footfalls that echo through the dank corridor.

“Why,” another voice responds, “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” A playful lilt dances its way through the words.

Panel 1: A drop of water splashes into a puddle at the feet of a rat. The scene is cast in a cold blue hue.

Panel 2: The camera pulls out and reveals another rat, the pair of them squeaking and sniffing at the ground.

Panel 3: A closeup of one of the rats, cutting itself off mid squeak, ear twitching.

Panel 4: The rat scampers away.

Panel 5: A loud creaking noise echoes out and the camera pulls back to reveal a staircase and corridor awash with warm light coming from the opening doorway, and the rats scurrying away back into the blue shadows. “Don’t try any funny business, demon,” a voice says from the doorway.

Panel 6: A closeup of two figures’ feet as they descend the stairs. One of them is armoured, the other is not, and has a long blue tail trailing behind her.

Panel 7: The camera lifts a little, cutting off just beneath the blue figure’s chin. “Why,” the blue figure responds,

Panel 8: “I wouldn’t dream of it darling,” the camera lifts ever so slightly, and we can see her grin, but the faces of the figures remains obscured. The blue figure is dressed in a tan poet shirt with her arms bound behind her back, the hint of some kind of floral tattoo poking out on her chest. Some of her hair is visible, and is white. The armoured figure is wearing a red tabard with the emblem of a rooster on it.