THE STORY
Every cat has a room. Every room has a story.
Mew House was never built — it was found, already standing, already full. Nobody agreed to live there together; they just arrived, one pixel at a time, and claimed a room nobody else wanted. A thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight of them now, from the attic to the basement wiring, and the house hasn't run out of space yet. It probably never will. Some residents run the place. Some barely leave their floor. All of them are watching the front door, waiting to see who walks in next.