So as the story did not take off and more negative reviews came in, I looked back and realized that things needed to be changed, certain things were just to outlandish, and the pacing was off. As it would have taken 10x longer to go in and manually change and re-arrange things I decided to clean slate the story. There are MASSIVE changes occurring but the original base plot will remain.

One of these changes is the story will now have a prologue, split into two parts. Jameson will dream of his past. His past attire is a classier country style, Vest, nice under shirt, black pants, he also wears a cowboy hat as he is in the country and working a farm, Arthur Morgan's hat from Red Dead Redemption Two is his hat. He also has a black bandolier gun belt and a Schofield Revolver. The Revolver is blackened steel with intricate silver engravings, silver sights, hammer and trigger, and the handle is dark walnut.

The hat and gun (and the guns mathcing pair), as well as the pocket watch were gifts from his wife. This was/is his preferred attire whenever in the country as he likes looking good and wearing classier clothes. In the country cowboy hats are common place and he always wore his because his wife bought it for him. He wears the gun and gunbelt because he is always armed and always had a fascination and like of single action revolvers.

This is only his COUNTRY attire. In the city he wears Vest, slacks, tie, undershirt, sometimes suit jacket if working or if he feels like it.

So read and review, follow or fav if you like it. I apologize to those who faved and followed the original ATB, but hopefully you'll like this remastered version just as much or even more. But if you don't I am sorry, but in the end even I did not like certain things.

The hope with this is I fix and change what needs to be so the readers enjoyment increases and does better than it originally did. Maybe even snag a big fish like Cimar or Fox in the Hen House as a follower or reviewer, but I probably have a better chance winning the lotto.

Oh and I hope you got your feels permission slips signed! Because this is going to be a very very sad prologue...Also very violent and dark in the first quarter.

Jameson Wilde is voiced by Chris Pine.

Alright enough of my yapping and sulking ATB Remastered starts now!

Prologue Part One: Fire and Blood

(Present day, Zootopia)

Jameson Wilde pulled his 2016 Dodge Challenger into his parking space across the street from his apartment building. This was his first of two apartments in the city, his second one was a luxury apartment in Sahara Square, this one...definitely wasn't a luxury apartment complex. But, it was his first ever apartment and much better located for traveling to work being located on the edge of Downtown, it was also much closer to where his mother lived, and for sentimentality purposes.

He hadn't been to this apartment in about a year, not since he first came back to the city. He had been living in the lux apartment gathering his courage up and trying to keep a promise he made. But it was high past time he did in his mind, his conscience was constantly reminding him how many days were passing with him doing nothing.

He looked up at the Grand Pangolin Arms before leaning back into his seat and letting out a sigh. It had been a long day, work was busy, he had to pack his things back at the lux apartment, and then he had to go shopping. What made the day worse for him was he hadn't had a single cup of coffee all damn day, and he was definitely feeling it. Sighing he rubbed and ran his fingers through the top of his head with his left paw ruffling the longer fur there and then dropped his paw to his lap. Leaning his head back onto the headrest he let his eyes slip shut for just a moment...a moment was enough.

A raging inferno flew across Jameson's subconscious leaving ash and smoke suspended in black before him. Flames roared and raged out of view before his vision cleared.

(Three years ago, Edge of Bunnyburrow by border to Cadbury)

Jameson was about a mile away from his farm traveling through the grove of trees that hid his farm from the main road and doing his best to avoid the many divots and potholes on the dirt and gravel road, the suspension on his old F100 couldn't take it. He missed his last truck, he had put 30,000 in it to personalize it and make it better, including the suspension. But he lost that truck to a terrible car accident two years ago, the same accident that crippled his left leg. He would need to walk with a cane but an advanced prosthetic designing company came up with a thin mechanical brace for him allowing to put use his left leg fully and walk with only a slight limp.

He originally wasn't even been supposed to be gone today, it was a Saturday, and Saturday's were a family day. But he had been called into work, as a CIA analyst and strategist he was on call whenever a team or agent needed his skills. It had been this way for the past eight years. Although, they knew that Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays were his family days and everyone in the CIA that would need him tried not to call him in on those days. They knew those days were incredibly important to him, and as a result only very rarely called him in on those days. But a team's time table had moved up way quicker than anticipated and they were relying heavily on Jameson's abilities to decipher patterns and strategize very quickly and efficiently. So they had no choice but to call him in, and while Jameson knew there was no helping the matter he still was heavily irritated by it, so he climbed in his truck and drove the half hour to the small CIA installation in Cadbury.

The leader had even apologized personally over the com connection when Jameson had connected in. He had told her it was fine and set to work, getting the plan together very quickly as he was eager to get back home. Then he set to deciphering the targets patterns to map proper movements and stayed on advising the team as necessary. The mission with his expertise ended up taking two hours, he signed off quickly and jogged to his truck eager to get back home.

25 minutes later he was keeping his eyes on the dirt road home and he did not bother to focus on anything because one bad hit and an axel or spring could snap. He really needed to pay to have this road paved and restore the truck. He only let his focus expand when he was a half mile from home and broke through the grove of trees. His heart quickly became filled with horror and dread when he caught sight of the huge plume of smoke rising from where his home was located behind a hill with a massive oak sitting on top.

"No...Sarah! Rachel!"

Slamming his foot on the gas he floored the truck, gunning it towards his home; and more importantly, his wife and daughter. The frame of the truck rocked and bucked as he slammed into potholes but luckily the suspension held. He peeled around the bend kicking out large amounts of gravel and dust behind him bringing into view his modest farm house...and the raging inferno that was consuming it.

Dread and horror consumed him. "noo."

He still had a quarter mile until he reached the house. As he roared towards it he frantically looked towards the front hoping to see his two brown does comforting each other while surrounded by the three mammal protection detail that was present whenever he was not home...He saw neither.

"Maybe they're in the back, yeah, that has to be it. Please let it be it."

Slamming on the breaks he brought the truck to a screeching halt just a few meters shy of the low stone wall that surrounded the home. Taking off his hat he threw it in the passenger seat before un-holstering his revolver and quickly clambering out of the truck. The second his feet with heels arched always touched the ground he shot off towards his home.

"SARAH! RACHEL!"

He covered ground quickly but he had no idea what was coming. As he went past the low stone wall he felt a searing pain in his right shoulder blade rising to his shoulder as a blade cut across it. yelling out in surprise and pain the hit caused him to stumble and trip, his revolver flying from his grip in the process. Hitting the ground and sliding he used the momentum to roll and turn around to face his attacker. He tried not to think about the fact that if he was being attacked now then the fire wasn't an accident, he tried to shove down the dread.

Once he was facing the attacker he quickly noticed three things. One, it was attackers plural, there were five of them advancing towards him, two rams and three bunnies, all male and wielding machetes except for one who was also wielding a blood covered hatchet, obviously the weapon that cut across his shoulder blade. The second was he knew exactly who the five were. The third is he saw two of the three mammal protection detail set against the wall dead with multiple hacks and slashes to their bodies, the third member which also happened to be the leader of the detail was nowhere in sight.

The dread that was consuming him got put on the back-burner as rage consumed him. He ripped an audible snarl from his muzzle as he stood, blood flowing down his back freely and dripping down his legs. He opened and closed his fists in anger and anticipation, rolling his shoulders to loosen them and grunting as it irritated the fresh wound. Fury in his eyes and dread in his heart he growled out "I should have killed you all when I had the chance all those years ago."

The bunny wielding the machete and hatchet stepped forward from the group of five and gave him a sinister smile. his voice was deep and raspy when he spoke, "Yes you should have you filthy pelt, you should have...Look at you haha, Domesticated. A bunny girls little pet heheheha. (Jameson snarls deeper.) I had hoped you would come home in time to see this, we made sure they couldn't call you or anyone, and when we arrived they fled into the home and locked it. We wanted to leave you a spectacle like those two (He points his machete at the two dead wolf guards), but alas they never came outside."

Horror griped Jameson's heart fully "nononono NO!"

"A shame really. They've been in there awhile and we haven't heard a single scream. We saw them in a top window looking out about ten minutes ago too but still no screams. Her and that little bitch of a daughter that my brother should have ripped from her stomach when he had the chance. (The snarl tripled in fury and intensity causing a ram and a bunny to take a few steps back). Oh that's right you adopted the little bitch as your own didn't you?"

"heheha such a shame they did not come out or burn to death, I would have enjoyed hearing their screams. They should be long dead by now, and I suppose you should take comfort in the fact that we couldn't touch them. We would have ravaged them both throughly before hacking them to little tiny pieces for you to pick up. Do you think the smoke got them first? Or the lack of oxygen? Either way you take comfort in the fact that whichever killed them first did and not the inferno thats burning away everything you built. And you should take comfort that you'll be joining them in death soon."

Jameson's rage and fury was at its peak, and so was his despair. He had tried his hardest to hold them in but the tears fell.

"ooooohhhhh there they are. The tears! Thats what I wanted to see! The mighty Scythe bursting into tears at the realization that his two little bunnies are gone, bodies by now well burned to a crisp! Haha thats what I got up this morning for! To see the worthless pelt once feared by so many criminals reduced to tears because he will never get to see his wife and daughter again!"

At that the bunny started laughing manically and the rest joined in. They didn't take him as a threat in his state both at being 'domesticated' and being distraught, not to mention without a weapon... But he was just as dangerous. Jameson's pained and angered snarl reached its crescendo and he shook his head violently to dispel the tears and clear his vision. His fists closed and tightened, his shoulders squared, he didn't even feel the wound on his back anymore. The group of five were laughing like he wasn't even there, like they hadn't just committed atrocities.

When he spoke next it was gravelly and dark. "no."

The two that had stepped back stopped laughing.

"No."

The other ram and another bunny shut their jaws.

He sounded like a demon when he roared for the last time "NOOO!"

The rest shut their mouths and all but the leader took a step back.

Jameson rolled backwards, half turned, and pulled a farmer's scythe from an old stump that sat in the front of the property just to the left of the dirt road. It was a decoration piece that was always there as a nod to his past, but it was razor sharp.

The five readied their weapons and started to circle around him. Jameson let out a yell and rushed forward scythe ready. In front of him was the leader flanked by bunnies two and three on the left and ram one on his right. As he rushed forward bunnies two and three stepped in front of the leader and bunny three swung first. Jameson blocked and deflected the blow with the shaft of the scythe and shoved him back with it. Before bunny two could do anything Jameson cleaved him vertically in half with an underpawed slice.

The leader of the group advanced towards him next and Jameson built on the momentum of the swing that cut bunny two in half to switch his grip and bring the scythe in an arc back around and swung an overpawed slice. Bunny one just barely dodged backwards in time causing the scythe blade to slam into the earth, rather than wasting time knowing bunnies one and three were still coming at him he abandoned the scythe and dashed forward to meet bunny one. Bunny one swung both weapons at him in vertical slices but Jameson pushed into the space limiting the force of the swing.

Jameson then caught both wrists in his hands and rammed his shoulder into the leader knocking him back while simultaneously using the momentum to disarm him of the hatchet in his right paw. As the hatchet was wrenched from his grip Jameson caught it in mid air, twirled it, twisted it, and hurled it towards ram one.

Ram one had been hesitant to rush in, waiting for a moment to rush forward and strike. He thought he had found it when Jameson was grappling with his leader. Rushing forward his momentum was stopped by the thrown hatchet burying itself in his throat literally stopping him dead in his tracks. The hit froze the ram's momentum and he tripped forward, driving the hatchet deeper and shooting out a gush of blood.

Jameson paid no mind after he threw because he knew it was a kill shot so he kept his focus on the leader. With his free right paw he slammed his fist into bunny one's face before shifting his position by turning outwards. Back now to the leader he slammed his elbow into bunny one's gut and again used the momentum to disarm him, this time of his machete. While he was doing this he saw bunny three rushing towards him close and ready to strike. Bunny one's machete now in paw he ducked under the blow from bunny three and twirled around counter-clockwise, switching his grip mid twirl to underpawed and severed bunny one's left leg from body with such force bunny one flew into the ground with a blood curdling scream.

As he came back up though, he realized he made a mistake. Bunny three had recovered from their over swing faster than he anticipated. Normally he would have already predicted how this entire battle was going to pan out, seen all the possible moves that were going to be made. He was sort of a much lesser version of Sherlock Holmes in his talent of deciphering mammals patterns and skills of deduction. They were gifts that had shown up when he was four and had been there ever since, until today. His mind was muddled with immense grief, sadness, rage, and despair. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't see the moves planned out in his mind, and he was about to pay for it.

Bunny three was swinging their machete towards him, and there was no way he could block the blow or deflect it away from his body. It was either deflect the hit to a lesser area like his hip, or die. Raising his commandeered machete he deflected the bunnies' blade down and to the left...and right into his left hip. The blade dug into the bone and Jameson let out a yell of agony, the bunny sneered at him in triumph, but it was short lived.

Before the bunny could withdraw its blade from his hip Jameson grabbed the wrist holding it firmly and before the bunny could react he took his own machete and with a brutal chop severed head from body. The bunny's body immediately crashed to the ground and Jameson released the bunny's wrist, letting fall to the ground as well. He left the machete in his hip as he had no time to remove it. He had figured there was a mammal in the back to make sure his wife and daughter didn't try and escape that way and he was right. A third ram was coming right at him appearing out of the smoke wielding an axe.

With no time to do anything else he threw his machete still in paw like a spear at the ram. The ram was so close and the machete coming at it so fast there was nothing the ram could do and the machete buried itself in the rams chest, the blade exploding out of its back. It killed the ram instantly and the body tripped and rolled a few feet before stilling.

Jameson did not have a moment to spare because the last mammal standing, ram two, was coming right at him from behind. Now weaponless Jameson had no choice but to yank the machete embedded in his hip out and turn to face the last threat. Sadly for him he had mistimed again and the rams machete was coming in a downwards stroke at his head. Making a split second decision to save his life he deflected the blade to the left causing it to get embedded in the middle of his left shoulder and shattering the collar bone.

Jameson screamed out in pure agony and the force of the blow sent him to one knee. Fighting through the agonizing pain and his swimming vision Jameson shoved the machete he still had in paw through the rams gut causing it to grunt out in surprise and stumble back. Jameson then stood and pulled the rams machete out of his shoulder and then swung it in an arc taking the rams head, a surprised and terrified look frozen on it's face as it fell.

Blood was pouring from his wounds and his shirt was ruined and weighed down from the blood. Jameson fell to his knees deeply heaving in oxygen and panting heavily, his whole body shaking from the pain. Tears were falling down his muzzle and onto the dirt road, mostly from grief than pain. The entire time he was fighting those who remained their leader now missing his left leg had been crawling away from the fight and toward Jameson's truck leaving a trail of blood in his wake. But he wasn't going anywhere, not on Jameson's watch, and he had stopped when he saw his last lackey fall. He mustered all the rage he had left for what was going to happen next.

Dropping the machete for a moment Jameson gripped the front of what was left of his shirt and ripped it off, exposing his back to the leader. The leader's horror grew tenfold when he saw the sinister black fur dyed tattoo of a scythe on Jameson's back with black tendrils sprouting from the sides of his back expanding and thinning until they touch the scythe's shaft, three on each side. The way the blood was pouring from the wound in his shoulder made the scythe blade look like it was coated with and dripping blood.

Jameson without looking took the machete back in paw and slowly stood, the blade grinding against the dirt as he did. He looked over his right shoulder at the leader and said in a cold voice "you said you wanted a spectacle right? I'll give you one."

At that he turned and hobbled over to the leader, the leader opened his mouth to say something but it was cut off by a machete chop to the mouth. Jameson poured all of his rage out then and spent the next minute rapidly hacking at the leader every which way. 30 hacks later Jameson's rage was gone and his energy spent. He let go of the machete and left it in what was left of the leaders head and turned, and then began stumbling towards his home.

Jameson's vision was blurred and swimming but he still pressed on. As he got closer to the house Jameson tripped in front of a pile of burning debris that fell from it. Even though he was only in that spot for a few moments on his paws and knees a decent pool of blood had formed. Jameson knew that if he didn't do something to staunch the bleeding coming from his shoulder he would bleed out soon. Looking at the pile of flaming debris Jameson reached in and pulled out a piece of heated metal. Taking several deep breathes he then shoved it into the wound cauterizing it and letting out a long scream of agony.

Once the wound was done being cauterized he tossed the piece of metal away and groaned in agony. His vision was now swimming worse than before and lined with deep red. Standing as best he could he began stumbling towards him home again screaming out, "SAAAARRRAAAHH! RRRRAAACCCHEEL!"

Once Jameson was just a few meters from the home his body couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed forward and fell onto the ground with a thud kicking up dust. He tried to crawl forward weakly calling out his famille's names again. "Sarah! Rachel!"

He managed to crawl maybe another half meter before his body fully gave out and he crumpled to the ground, his vision almost fully rimmed red. He reached his right paw out towards the home and with his last bit of effort croaked out "Saraaah..Racheell."

His paw then fell to the dirt, his vision fully became red, and he fell unconscious.

Done. Honestly this was the saddest thing I have ever written, and it gets sadder in part two.

This is for all old readers: This prologue should address one of the major issues within my first draft of this story, I hope it has.

These prologue's and the first five chapters will be focusing mainly on Jameson before he jumps in the passenger seat and WildeHopps take the wheel.

Now some of you may be thinking I am diminishing, or going to be diminishing Nick through Jameson, that was one of the issues readers were afraid of the first go around. I assure you now that will not be happening. This is an AU, Nick will not be stock, things will be different. Things will balanced accordingly. One of Jameson's main roles is to build Nick up, not tear him down.

I know this story hinges on execution being an AU set within the base plot of the movie, I know I misfired the first time, but I took notes and hit the reset button. This time I hope it will go to the standards you all hold. If anyone has any concerns as this story goes on, DO NOT HESITATE to PM me.

Though I must say I am happier with it this go around myself.

Other than that, do fav or follow, or both if you like it. Make sure to review as well.

That's it for now! This is TheConcernedF0X signing off! See you next time.