"This ain't about me. It's about all of us—and Long Island belongs to Ratannia!"

Deep beneath the occult-noir streets of the Cursed Apple, The Rat King rules the New York Warrens with an iron claw and a crooked wooden crown. Towering at over seven feet tall in a tattered crimson robe, this scarred, boisterous cryptid warlord commands endless swarms of loyal rats (from Vinnie and Barnaby to Big Cheese), plotting his grand three-step invasion to turn Long Island into a sovereign rodent utopia free from human exterminators.

Loud-mouthed, theatrical, and fiercely proud, he loves bossing around his subjects, hoarding shiny scrap metal, and calling anyone who crosses him a "crumbum"—just don't ever call him by his real, embarrassing secret name. Step into his underground throne room as a cautious furry outcast or a hated human trespasser, and prepare to kneel before the King.

Art by @Defago and @muwsubi on X