Judy Hopps awoke from her bed with a start.

Something was wrong, she just knew it.

She checked her clock. Oh sweet cheese and crackers, it's 7:30! What happened to my alarm?! Why didn't anyone wake me?! She panicked. She had never been late, not for anything, and especially not for the season opening of the Hopps family roadside farm stand. Not longer just a dinky stand, it had grown so popular over the previous years that it was all hands on deck for the first month or so after opening. Judy flew from her bed, flipped on the lights, and frantically got herself ready for the day, tearing clothes from her closet, trying in vain to pick something appropriate for the day ahead.

Wait! She had laid out her outfit for the day the night before! She kicked herself for losing her head. This was not a good way to start out the day, she just needed to calm down. She was already late, there was no reason to make matters worse by ruining her room in her haste. Taking a moment to collect herself she went through her morning mental checklist:

Get up and stretch: partially completed, not stretching this morning.

2. Shower…

She contemplated her door. By this time of the day the bathroom closest to her room, and the one after that, would be totally packed with her siblings. She would have to wait ages to shower, and good luck with the hot water. She was normally up no later than 5am, so she never had to worry about it. But now? No, that won't work. She shook her head. Showering in the morning was one of her favorite parts of the day. It was just about the only 10 minutes during her day when she could just stop and not have to worry about her family, the farm, or anything. Those 10 blissful minutes under a stream of hot water helped her get through each busy day on the Hopps family farm. To miss it would be… problematic. But there was no choice, she had to get going.

She grabbed the outfit she had laid out and began to get dressed while continuing to go through her morning list.

3. Wake up the rest of the wing?

Too late for that.

4. Help mother with breakfast?

Ditto

5. Be at the stand by 7?

Hah!

She sighed, there was nothing that could be done, spilt carrot juice and all that. The only course at this point was to move forward with the rest of her day. Hopefully, if she worked extra hard, which of course she would because she had to make up for this initial transgression, the day would end better than it began, and certainly better than the previous day.

With that thought in mind she marched towards her door mentally steeling herself against the chaos beyond. Pausing once more before it, she checked her morning list one more time and finding it as complete as it would ever be. She opened the door, ready for anything.

Ready for everything, except what she found.

The hallway was dark, the burrow silent. There was no activity outside her room at all, it was like everyone was still asleep. Judy stood there in shock, ears flicking back and forth, trying in vain to detect some activity. There must have been some mistake. It was 7:30 in the morning! There was no way she was the only one up, and there was no way everyone had left the house, certainly not without her, at least. What was going on?

She looked back over her shoulder at the window above her bed, it was dark out. The moon casting a weak light across the landscape. That it was dark out was not unusual. Waking up before 5 meant that she was usually getting up while it was dark, but it just seemed as if it was too dark. Even at the beginning of April the sun would certainly be out by 7:30am. She turned back into her room and slowly approached her window, climbing back on her bed so she could press her face right up against the round glass. Dark. Too dark. Way too dark. She sat back on her haunches confused and asked herself the same question she had asked herself probably a dozen times in the last minute. What is going on here? She glanced at her clock and then back out the window, still confused. Suddenly she snapped back to the clock, eyes wide in confusion. It read 2:41am.

Judy was dumbfounded. She had checked the clock twice, no three times when she had awoken! How had she read 7:30 on the display? How?! She let out a groan.

Great way to start your day Judy. Just great.

It was overwhelming. She had already been sleeping poorly that night, going to bed in her state had not been good for her rest, and now she had worked herself into a frenzy thinking she had been late. It was all just too much, and she felt the tears begin to build in her eyes. No, I won't cry, not today, I did enough of that yesterday. She had gone to bed angry and emotionally drained, something she noted to herself, she would never do again if she could help it. She had slept fitfully as a result and her restless night had culminated in this little scene. And now on top of being exhausted her nerves were totally frayed. And she still had the rest of the day to look forward to.

With a sigh of frustration she cradled her head in her paws, pressing them against her eyes in an attempt to stop the trickle of tears that were coming in spite of everything she could do. This wasn't like her. She had always been so composed. Sure of herself, and sure of what she wanted. She was never the one to be so emotional, so quick to fly off the handle. But ever since returning from school, she was becoming just that. Her confidence in herself and her drive for more was slowly being sapped by this place, by this life. She was becoming complacent. She was "settling", as her parents had put it so many years ago. She was settling, and she hated herself for it. That was why she couldn't sleep, and that was why she had gotten into a shouting match with her parents the previous night. They wanted what was best for her of course, but what they thought was best for her was not what she thought it was. And ever since she had returned from school the resentment had built. Her dream since she had been little was to live in Zootopia and become a police bunny. The first one too. She was well aware of the challenge that would be. Bunnies simply weren't an imposing presence to anyone but rodents, and only then because the rodents might find themselves crushed if they weren't careful. She understood she would never be as strong as other animals on the force, probably not as fast either, but she knew that she was just as smart as any animal in the ZPD. Her scores on the practice aptitude exams she had taken were a testament to that. And she figured that on the police force brains were at least as important as brawn.

But her parents didn't see it that way, her father especially. He was dead set against her joining the police force. He had plenty of reasons:

"Oh, we need you here on the farm. Who would run the stand without you? Zootopia is a dangerous place for little bunnies like us.

No one would take a bunny cop seriously."

She winced upon coming to the last one. In the past, when she had brought up signing on to the force it had usually turned into an argument. Not a stand up knock down fight like last night's argument had been, but an argument nonetheless. Her father would bring up the farm, her family, her friends, etc. And her mother would talk about how dangerous it was to be a cop, and how much they would worry. Those conversations had always been frustrating, but at least her parents had never tried to dissuade her of the notion entirely. Last night though had been different. Last night, and she suspected it was for the first time, her father had been honest about just what he thought of her dream. He told her she would be a laughing stock, that no one would take her seriously, that she would never be a good officer. Tempers had been flaring already, Judy was chafing in this lifestyle, but that comment had sent things tumbling over the edge. Half the burrow could hear the shouting, though no one dared intervene.

Those sorts of comments were not new to her. She had heard their like from many mammals. Many of her friends from college had voiced similar opinions at one point or another. Those comments had hurt of course, how could they not? But at the same time it was those sorts of prejudices that had fueled her. She wanted to show the world, and herself, that she could be anything she wanted, regardless of her species. To hear those same things from her father though, was a different thing entirely. Her relationship with her father had always been very good. He had always been supportive of her interests in the past, and she had grown up somewhat of a daddy's girl. He was even the one that had talked Judy's mother into allowing her to go away to college. So for him to have so little faith in her abilities was something she wasn't prepared for. It had sent her reeling. It was as if her very foundation had been torn out from beneath her. The one thing that had kept her going even in the worst of times, the love and support of her parents, suddenly ripped away without warning. She felt they had betrayed her in a way that no one else could have. Who was left to believe in her if her parents didn't?

Maybe she should have just gone and signed up regardless of what her parents thought. No, despite the fight the previous night, Judy's one pillar of support in the whole world remained her family, and she didn't want to damage it any further by going against their express wishes.

The tears were coming, in spite of her efforts, and she grit her teeth in defiance. But the effort became too great. She sat and sobbed, finally allowing the roaring torrent of emotions welling up inside her take over once again. It just wasn't how things were supposed to turn out for her, but she was slowly coming to accept the reality of it. This was her life now. She was trapped. She would get up in a few hours and begin the rest of her life, as a farmer. And she would be nothing more than a bunny, just like so many before her. The thought made her sick, but she was at a loss as to how to change anything.

In between her sobs, she glanced at the clock, 3:11. She needed to get some rest. The worst thing she could do was go on for the rest of the day both physically and emotionally exhausted. She hadn't slept well, but perhaps the following 2 hours would better. She certainly hoped so. The day would be hell enough without her only getting a couple of hours of sleep.

She got off her bed and walked over to the light switch. Before turning out the lights she swept her gaze around her room, and took in all the history it contained. Everything about the room said one thing: you are destined for something bigger than this. The thought was a comforting one, and her spirits lifted ever so slightly. The tears slowed and then stopped. This wasn't like her. It never had been. She was stronger than this, better than this. She had overcome so much adversity in her life already. Fought so hard to prove to the world that she was capable. That she shouldn't be overlooked. She had graduated amongst the top of her class in college, participated in student government, had been a Resident Assistant. She had done everything right. If she was just going to give up now why had she bothered to expend so much effort in the first place? Because she was goddamned Judy Hopps, that's why! She was angry now, almost shaking, and she raged against the injustice of it all. She was not just some dumb, flighty bunny. She was going to take this new challenge head on. She was sick and tired of waiting around for her parents to change their minds, she was going to make them change. That was undoubtedly the tallest and most daunting obstacle she had ever set herself against. But she owed it to herself and everyone who had helped her get to this point, even her parents, to keep on fighting.

She walked over to her desk and grabbed pen and paper. She had always been one to create lists, goals, checklists, to-do lists, etc. They helped her get to keep track of her life and plan for the future. It was now time to create a new list she decided, and she took to the task with an intensity that she would have been totally incapable of just moments ago. First thing was to convince her parents of course. No easy task but after last night she wasn't going to let this go. She was going to make it happen. Next was to join the ZPD. And then…? She wasn't sure but what she had seemed like a good start. She finished writing and took a step back. The list only contained two vague items and she felt a little silly that that is all she had been able to produce. Especially after charging into her list making with such vigor. She glanced at the clock, it was 3:17. She let out a chagrined sigh. Well Judy I suppose I can forgive you for your poor showing on account of it being way too early in the morning. Nevertheless she was proud of herself. This was who she was, not the sobbing wreck that had just been sitting on the bed. She smiled as she turned off the light and crawled back into bed.

Things were going to get better, she just knew it.

This was going to end badly, he just knew it.

This part of the job was the culmination of months of effort. Tracking, bribing, convincing… this job had dragged him around the world and everything had gone so smoothly. He had covered his tracks, eliminated those with less than impeccable discretion, crossed his T's and dotted his I's. There should be nothing to worry about, and yet, as Nick Wilde approached the arranged meeting place on a dark and overcast night, he couldn't help but feel as if he had missed something, something obvious. And that feeling filled him with dread.

He was doomed, he just knew it.

God, when did I become so cynical? He thought to himself as he pulled into the empty lot beside the location given to him by his informant. A large and apparently abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the Zootopia docks, right on the water; a perfect location for him to disappear and never been seen again...

Stop it, this will go fine. These mammals haven't demonstrated even a modicum of competence thus far, and I doubt they will have figured me out now.

Still he had always been a careful one, and he had come prepared in case things didn't go as planned. He had spent much of this job unarmed. When infiltrating a hostile organization it was best to be as unthreatening as possible, but this time he had concealed his service pistol in a special waistband holster at his back. As he climbed from his car he unconsciously fingered the weapon, and its continued presence was at least somewhat reassuring. His little pistol wouldn't save him if Koslov's goons were even moderately well armed… but then there wasn't much he could do about that, was there? No, he decided, there wasn't, and now his reluctance to get on with it was wasting time.

He collected himself and stepped from his car, attempting to look as casual as possible. His innate confidence had borne him through situations far more dangerous than this and he would be a fool to allow his fears to dampen it. With that in mind he strolled deliberately to the entrance prescribed in the note he received, a small service door on the north side if the building. When he reached the door he paused momentarily before grasping the handle. What the hell am I doing here? Waltzing into this damn place with nothing but a tip from an informant I hardly know. This is how mammals die. No, there was no choice, he was there, and the thing he needed to put this job behind him should be there as well. He just needed a bit of luck, and Koslov would be none the wiser. Steeling himself for what might come he reached out to grasp the door handle, half expecting it to explode the moment he touched it, and tried the door. Locked, of course. With a sigh Nick crouched down and began picking the lock, listening intently for the click of each tumbler. With a distinct *click* the lock finally gave way and Nick turned the handle and opened the door, slipping quietly into the darkness beyond.

The inside of the warehouse was blessedly quiet, without power there would be no alarms, and the Zootopia Power Authority hadn't supplied this block, or any of the blocks surrounding it, with power in more than 3 years. Nick gave himself a moment for his vision to adjust to the darkness, his natural night vision easily compensating for the lack of light, before carefully proceeding down the hallway he had just entered. The area looked as though it had once been the office. The previous occupants had done a poor job of the cleaning the place out, and as he passed each door on either side of the hallway he noticed old office equipment collecting dust. Paper was everywhere, as if the place had been ransacked, and he found himself stepping over computer monitors, three ring binders and file cabinet drawers , before finally reaching the end of the hallway. Upon the door was a message in spray paint probably applied by whichever kids had torn the office space apart. It read simply: "wild times ahead". Nick couldn't help but chuckle, they didn't know the half of it.

Leaving the office space Nick found himself in the massive open floor of the warehouse. It wasn't nearly as dark as it was before, broken skylights in roof allowed what little moonlight that made it through the clouds to filter into the large open space, and from where he stood Nick could see what he was looking for. In the center of the floor, perhaps 300 meters away, was a semi truck and trailer without any markings. A well maintained truck, in distinct contrast with its surroundings.

Perhaps this won't be so bad after all, Nick thought, of course I say that now… It's no good to count your geese before they lay their eggs Nick. He realized that that wasn't quite the epigram he he had wished, but he didn't dwell on it, it was time to get this over with. And with that Nick picked his way cautiously to the center of the warehouse.

The truck was like any other, no defining characteristics to set it apart. No personal flairs added by the driver, no writing on the sides except those required by the Department of Motor Vehicles, nothing to make it stand out, perfect for Koslov's purposes. And what were those purposes exactly? Koslov was the head of what was by a wide margin the largest organized crime syndicate in all of Zootopia, he had his paws in everything and there were even rumors that he had the ear of the mayor, and perhaps even members of parliament. Normally someone like Koslov would have been well below Nick's radar, local mob bosses were rarely players in international espionage, but 3 years ago Nick's agency had noticed some unusual communications emanating from the Arctica's MSS, or Ministry of State Security, and upon decryption it was discovered they were a series of messages back and forth between Koslov and someone in the employ of Sergey Bearyov, the head of the MSS. That revelation had sent shockwaves throughout the Zootopian intelligence community. It was clear that these messages had been going back and forth for quite some time and yet they had only been able to crack some of the oldest. In response Nick's department head had sent him to Arctica to revitalize operations there and infiltrate the MSS. In his two years as the section chief in Artica he had been very successful. There was still much work to be done of course, there always was, but his time in Arctica had been extremely productive. He had a knack for managing those sorts of things, but what he had learned in his time overseas had been even more troubling than the discovery of the messages to Koslov. The ZIA, and indeed the Zootopian government, had been thoroughly infiltrated by the MSS and had been for some time. He was able to identify a few of the "moles" from his position in Arctica, but he was forced to watch from afar as the once seemingly tight knit intelligence community of the ZIA tore itself apart with suspicion and distrust.

As things started to deteriorate he had been recalled. His department head feeling he was more useful at home than thousands of kilometers away. But he found that even he had been affected by the pervading atmosphere. Finding himself less and less willing to delegate to his subordinates lest they compromise the last three years of his work. And that is how he found himself here in this death trap standing in front of the doors of a semi trailer, risking his life over one of the small players in this grand game.

As Nick stood there the general feeling that he had missed something finally began to take definite shape in his mind. It was something about the message he had received from his eager little helper. It had been handwritten, not unusual, this particular informant, Nick was still struggling to remember his name, had often sent his reports that way. No that wasn't it. It was something about the writing itself. Wait... Damn he should have realized it sooner, the note had looked rushed, or perhaps forced? As if the writer had been pressing the pencil too hard into the paper, and it had left the note smudged and difficult to read. Not at all like the mammal's usually delicate paw-writing. How had he missed that? True, he had been extremely busy since he had returned to Zootopia, overworked even, but to miss something so obvious? Perhaps he was allowing his contempt for Koslov's organization get the better of him. Koslov was a mere amateur playing a dangerous game with giants, and the way Nick had been able to so easily sink his claws into the boss's business had been indicative of that. But even amateurs have their moments and Nick realized that his disregard for Koslov's abilities had caused him to make the sort of mistake he would have expected from an agent out on his first job. His informant had been compromised. The dumb bastard had let himself get caught and he was now dragging Nick down with him.

Oh thats right, his code name was Christmas. Well merry christmas to you too you fucking hamster. If I get out of this I'll remember to send you a card.

Nick knew right then that the best course of action was to simply turn around and walk away. There would be other times in which he could pin Koslov, though given who Koslov was he wasn't sure he cared. Yes, the best thing to do now was to leave, reassess and come at it again from another angle. Draw his hand out from the trap before it got bitten off. But… wait… what is that? The fur on the back of his neck bristled as he sniffed the air. Is that… blood? Now all his senses were going on overdrive. Ears flicking back and forth trying to detect the slightest disturbance, nose still testing the air. He slowly withdrew his pistol if only because the weight in his hand was comforting. The smell, and blood was certainly what he was smelling he decided, was emanating from the trailer. It was bad. All his professional instincts told him one thing: run. Nothing good would come of him opening that trailer. But his natural instincts, intense curiosity being a trait all foxes shared, were screaming at him to open it, and they were winning. If he just took a peek inside and then skedaddled he would be fine, right? Yeah, right. And so it was for the second time that night that Nick reached out to open a door he fully expected to explode the moment he touched it.

But it didn't explode. It did nothing. As Nick stood there expectantly with his paw on the cool handle he began to feel silly. Just open the door, and you can be on your way. That's all you gotta do. Finally, he raised the handle as slowly as he could. It didn't help though, the metallic clanking of the latch still seemed to reverberate throughout the open warehouse. With the latch released he twisted the handle and the door popped open and stood just slightly ajar. Even with the door just barely open, the smell of blood was overwhelming, the air thick with the stench, and Nick half expected to find himself staring into a charnel house once he had the thing open. What was that saying? He thought. Ah yes "curiosity killed the cat." Well I am not a cat, and Koslov won't be killing me. For what it was worth, the thought gave him the courage he needed to soldier onwards. He slowly swung open the door. What he saw inside made his breath catch in his throat.

The opening door had triggered some switch and as it swung open Nick heard an electric crack, followed by the inside of the trailer lighting up in a red and green glow. The inside of the trailer had been strung end to end in christmas lights, and from the ceiling were hung ornaments of all sorts. And the smell, oh god the smell, the whole thing reeked of blood. Nick realized there was blood everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, the ceiling, everywhere. It took Nick only a moment to notice the centerpiece of this gruesome display. At the very center of the trailer hung Christmas the hamster, a noose around his neck, wrapped in christmas lights. His body was mutilated almost beyond recognition. Only his face was left untouched, his eyes staring out into oblivion.

How the hell had that little guy held so much blood? He checked the thought. The hamster had died horribly because of Nick, the least he could do was not make light of his untimely end. And that is when he noticed the message painted at the very back of the trailer:

Wild Times Are At An End

And THAT is my cue to leave!

His better judgement finally getting the best of him, Nick quickly turned around and began to hurry back the way he came. He had taken but a few steps when he heard the crackling of a loudspeaker.

"Rickyyy!"

Oh, fuck.

"It's such a pleasure to find you here Ricky, I was worried you would not come. Did you like my little display?"

No, not at all.

"It was a such a shame that Mr. Hamtaro had to die. He was quite useful in his own way, but that is what happens when someone crosses me Ricky. Necessary wouldn't you agree?"

Again, no.

"Come Ricky, there is no reason to be alarmed, your death won't be so bad. You were one of the most effective employees I had had in years. Business just won't be the same without you, and I thought that in light of that I should give you a spectacular send off!"

"Oh, and what's that Koslov?" asked Nick, somehow managing to sound collected, almost bored.

"Ah, he speaks! It is good to hear your voice Ricky. Now I know it is you and not some other poor fool caught in my trap."

What? He wasn't sure it was me? He glanced around, he didn't see any cameras, not that that meant they weren't there. But for some reason he just knew they weren't, this was Koslov after all. You fucking amateur. A grin spread across his face, there was a way out of this, even now.

"Look around you Ricky, notice all the crates? 4500 kilograms of explosives, all throughout the warehouse. All I must do is press my little button and I will start the greatest firework show Zootopia has ever seen!"

How on earth did he get that much? He looked around in bewilderment. The crates were everywhere, stacked in piles three or four high. He momentarily wondered how he had missed that too, but realized that it was unlikely he would have found what he wasn't looking for. Let's stop looking for more things to beat yourself up over, eh Nick? Still, why was Koslov waiting? It's like he was begging Nick to make his escape. Seizing the moment, Nick frantically wracked his brain for a way out of this mess. If he wanted to survive he'd need to take action now. The water… He suddenly realized had to get to the water, the force from an explosion doesn't travel well in water. He seemed to remember that a 115 kilogram depth charge, like the kind used during the wars all those years ago, had only a 15 meter effective range. The water was his only salvation, and he began to run towards the southern end of the building.

"I could just press this button now Ricky, but I won't, not yet. I still need something from you

Ricky: Ricky, I wish for you to tell me who you are working for."

A wave of confusion followed by relief rolled over Nick. What? He has no leverage. How the hell did this polar bear become the biggest mob boss in Zootopia? And how the hell did I get caught in his trap? He took comfort at the fact that Koslov still had no idea who he was – he continued to use Nick's alias even now, but he still needed to buy time. The door out the south side of the building was still 150 meters away.

He stopped running just long enough to shout,

"Koslov? Why would I do that? It doesn't sound like I get much out of telling you anything. You gotta sweet'n the deal buddy!"

He didn't wait for a response, he kept running.

Nick decided that Koslov really liked to hear himself talk. In the last 150 meter sprint to the exit Koslov hadn't stopped talking, though he was certainly getting harder to hear. And Nick suspected that if Koslov realized that he was no longer in earshot he would simply hit the button and that would be the end of it.

Keep going big guy, this is your moment. Savor it.

Nick finally reached the door and slammed into it only to bounce off and fall back onto the floor. His shoulder screamed at him, probably broken, certainly dislocated, but by far the worse injury was his pride. A little placard right above the handle said "pull", and in his haste Nick had missed it and hurt himself. Way to go buddy. Frantically getting up he yanked the door open, any semblance of caution long gone, and sprinted the last 100 meters to the edge of the wharf. As he left the building he heard a roar on the speakers.

Uh oh, Koslov just woke up and he doesn't sound happy.

It didn't matter, he was so close. All he had to do was dive off the end of the pier into safety and he could put all this behind him.

Hah! Get fucked Kosl-

Nick didn't get the chance to finish the thought. There was a bright flash that seemed to light up the whole world and Nick, just meters from the relative safety of the water, was tossed into the air like a rag doll.

He was too late, Koslov had pressed his little button.

Oh, God, the pain. He was close to losing himself in it. Never in his life had he experienced anything like it. The shock wave had pulverized him, knocked him nearly senseless. The heat had seared his fur and blistered his skin. His life flashed before his eyes as he tumbled helplessly, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind. There was nothing there he wanted to see, and besides, he was going to make it. Right? He suddenly realized that he was angry at himself; angry for being so weak, so apathetic, so pathetic, angry that he had made so many mistakes, and angry he had let an idiot like Koslov get the best of him; angry that he had walked knowingly into this trap and couldn't be bothered to save himself. When had he become this way? He couldn't quite put his finger on it. A wry sense of amusement momentarily swept over him. He realized he couldn't put his finger on anything at the moment. He wasn't sure if he even had fingers anymore. Still, the thought was a troubling one. He had let this happen, he had practically dared Koslov to kill him and Koslov had obliged. Never again. If he made it, no, when he made it, he was going to fix this, he was going to fix the ZIA, and most importantly, he was going to fix himself.

Yes, he decided, things will get better from now on.

As the dark water rose up to meet him, he couldn't help but smile.