Cyrus walked for several miles through the sewer channel. The barrage of translucent souls continued the same pattern—crying and flying. Cyrus could even time it. Were these what human souls looked like? Would his soul look like that one day?
The living rats remained behind him, steadfast followers. He couldn’t tell how many were with him, but it had to be thousands. Maybe more.
Suddenly, the souls flowed upward until they were gone.
Cyrus stopped. True, comforting silence spread across the sewers again. He had grown so used to the souls’ constant moaning that he didn’t know how to handle the quiet.
A duo of light rays shone on his back, warming him up. He hadn’t realized how cold it was down here.
He stood on his hind legs and looked up into a slanted well that led up to another cat
