08

The apartment itself, as I mentioned, was a penthouse and was located on the top floor of the building, I don't know its exact height, but it would be thirty or forty floors high. The apartment was vast, with four bedrooms, three toilet and bathrooms, two spacious halls, a comfortable kitchen and an open terrace.

The entire penthouse space was furnished in an intermediate style between Scandinavian minimalism and hi-tech. It was obvious that everything around was made to the highest standards and technologically advanced enough to bring the owner maximum comfort, but at the same time the interior of the apartment was characterized by maximum simplicity, combining an intuitive understanding of every detail. Unfortunately, I could not find out more. Having searched all around, I couldn't find any documents, photos or something similar. None of these things were present, which made it feel like this dwelling was only a temporary shelter.

Still, that in itself is amazing when not a single photo or mention of the owner was lying around. Unfortunately, no further conclusions are possible due to lack of data.

The only unexplored source of information was a television set, the remote control to which was unknown. There was still a world outside the apartment door, clarification behind the armored door and no less armored glass, but I was not going to get out of the safe zone. I couldn't get into that safe-bunker room, either, but that wasn't critical at the moment. I just remembered that it was behind a bookshelf in the spacious hall, and that would do for now.

Taking a sniff, I fiddled. Mama cat said we could find her by smell. Yeah, scatter, the whole place reeked of her so bad you couldn't tell where she'd been an hour ago or a day. I've honestly tried.

I also have a suspicion that the safe-bunker room and the missing cat might be connected somehow. That's another reason why I'm not working hard to get in there. I don't want to get another one from the cat.

Bang. Bang.

"Shit," my ear twitched irritably, and I glanced toward the kitchen, from which loud noises were coming more and more frequently, and they were getting louder and louder each time, and the interval between them was only getting shorter. I ignored it for the time being, but apparently it was time to intervene.

"Looks like big brother needs to clean up the mess again!"

Making a menacing face, I moved towards the noise with an equally menacing stride. But as soon as I turned the corner, a real house war broke out in front of me! However, as soon as I appeared, the confrontation in the kitchen stopped abruptly.

As soon as I appeared in the field of vision of kittens, each of my brothers and sisters froze in place and warily began to look in my direction. What's the matter, but we all seem to have a keen sense of smell.

Regarding what I saw. What I saw was a real battlefield. The kitchen was completely trashed, the walls where appliances had once been plugged in were now filled with scraps of wires, and the furniture that had been installed in the kitchen had been turned into junk. Apocalypse in miniature.

There was no doubt that the kittens had done it. Brown froze with the refrigerator draped over him. His tentacles helped him perfectly. The white kitten had a pot on his head and, hiding behind the microwave, was holding a knife not completely spit out in his mouth. Judging by the footprints across the room and a couple of handles sticking out of the wall, he was spitting cutlery like a machine gun toward the relative holding the refrigerator. Everything flew: knives, forks, spoons, with such force that many of them easily stuck into the wood of the cabinets. And who cared that their shape wasn't even meant for that.

The redhead was sitting on the highest shelf of the remaining ones, holding plates in her tentacles, which she apparently used as throwing disks.

Sandy, with her usual pouty face, was sitting on the oven, adjusting something, while Gray was sitting inside the oven herself, clawing at the glass with a pleading look in her eyes, not wanting to become a cat in a pickle.

A deafening silence.

As I was digesting what I had seen, I began to feel my left eyelid twitch. I don't even know how it got to this point.

The exuberant members of the feline family looked at each other suspiciously and even nodded conspiratorially!

They all understood that big brother was evil, which meant that someone would get his tail ass kicked. Thankfully, there was already a precedent. But instead of retreating, they turned sharply in my direction, deciding to attack all together - a united front.

"You flea-bitten assholes, I'll get you!" - I growled mentally, watching the cutlery, plates, refrigerator and the oven with the "undercooked kitty" flying at me.

I jerked to the side and the plates and cutlery flew past me, smashing into the wall or shattering into hundreds of pieces.

I couldn't dodge the refrigerator so easily, so I pressed myself close to the ground and slid forward on the smooth kitchen tiles, right under the huge projectile, into the middle of the kitchen.

Bang.

I hear the loud sound of the refrigerator bang behind me, but I don't care about that, because I have to save Gray. Without dodging the microwave, I let my tentacles outward and catch her gently. A squeak is heard from inside. I can't tell if it's scared or happy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice four shadows sneaking around me and rushing out of the kitchen.

I put the oven down carefully, and without looking back at the still-locked Gray, I set off in pursuit of the tailed bandits, only to find myself back on the floor in the hallway, avoiding the couch that was flying at me.

- R-rar. - I was already naturally angry, realizing that the usual slaps wouldn't be enough this time.

***

Our battle was colorful and epic. Everything was flying all over the penthouse, everywhere and at everyone.

The intrigue was as intense as the court of Madrid. The tactics and tricks used and the countermeasures devised were worthy of military textbooks.

The chaos had gained so much momentum that I had forgotten what had started it all. After the Tailed Four's alliance broke up, then the good old battle royal began.

"Huh, who knew we were such a warlike race," I sighed, lying on a mountain of 'skulls' covered in battle wounds and the blood of my fellow humans.

What can you do, civil war is bloody and merciless.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. And I lie on a mountain of pillows and look at my beaten brothers and sisters with superiority, who look down at me tiredly but cautiously. Gray was among them, too, but to her credit, she didn't attack me when she got out of the microwave, but was trying to take revenge on her sand-colored sister.

"Or maybe we just can't get along?" - And really, because in the comics, fleurkens were loner cats.

However, comic books are one thing, but life could be another.

After looking around and realizing the extent of the mess we'd made, I tsked in amazement:

"Yeah, we're the ones who really messed up."

It's safe to say that there was nothing whole left in the apartment that we couldn't tear off during our battles.

Psst...

Hearing a quiet sniffle, I looked down and noticed five curled up ball of cuteness. Badly tired, they had finally decided to take a nap. Yay! Tired the obnoxious babies out!

"It's about time!" - I thought to myself, and I felt my own eyes begin to close.