Chapter One: Arrival
The dark, angry clouds filling the sky, a faint note of misery for most of Zootopia's inhabitants, were a rare stroke of good luck for the Incubators on the day they arrived. With plenty of natural cover, the cloaking technology they'd brought with them needed minimal use to keep their spaceship hidden from prying eyes. Considering that in all likelihood no one here had ever heard about, let alone seen, one of their kind, a subtle approach remained their best option. Thus, while the several hundred of them manning the ship or running the machinery keeping it aloft did nothing more than listen in on the conversation, the job of who'd inform the beings of this world of their presence remained an open topic for discussion.
The supply of cloaking technology sophisticated enough to hide the Incubators themselves from unwelcome gazes was far lower, for both the cost and difficulty of making a device for such a small, irregular shape, far outpaced that of their ship, which had the sleek, smooth shape of an ellipse whenever the landing gear wasn't deployed. The Incubators knew how vital this technology was for the success of their plan, for the odds of them resembling something that belonged in the world they'd chosen to make contact with hovered just a hair above zero.
Maybe the small stature and mostly-white fur would help them blend in somewhat if another being saw them, but any pretense of normalcy ended there. Each one had four ears; two short and pointy ones near the top of their head, and two long, droopy ones that were about two inches away from brushing against the floor, their ends flamingo-pink with blood-red dots, split into three parts like boneless fingers and surrounded by inexplicable gold rings that appeared to be hovering in thin air. Their thick, bushy tails made their bodies look downright puny by comparison. Each Incubator sported a large oval of fur the color of a burn wound on their backs, a memoir of a time long past. Their mouths appeared far too small for their faces, a small, curvy black line on a vast plane of white, while their eyes faced the opposite problem: they swallowed so much space that even with their rather small size in the grand scheme of things, looking right at them often caused the same transfixion as the headlights of an approaching car.
With all factors considered, the decision had been made before they even left their homeworld that a maximum of ten Incubators would leave the ship as scouts, remaining in constant contact with both the other scouts and the ship if anything they deemed important happened. However, that left an obvious question: which ten would they be?
That topic remained relevant even now, as they'd failed to decide which ones even as their destination loomed large. Considering about eight hundred of them remained viable options and at least five hundred of those had a clear desire to fill those roles, what had once been a civil debate had descended into a well of incoherent noise.
This state didn't last long, though, as one of the Incubators involved in the mess managed to silence every last one of them using a foolproof technique he had developed just weeks after his conception: a shrill, high-pitched shriek that reverberated through the ship like the sound of a gunshot. The noise caused all the other Incubators to tremble for several seconds before absolute silence took hold, allowing a single Incubator to inject his two cents into the conversation. Or at least, what they could call a conversation, since utilizing telepathy as opposed to speaking aloud had been the norm for Incubators for at least the past eight hundred years.
"Look," the mystery interrupting Incubator said. "We need to start now. Efficiency is our top priority here. Nothing else matters, so why are we wasting time on such pointless trivialities as who will be our messengers?"
"He has a point," another Incubator said. "The purpose of our race is for each member of it to be interchangeable with the rest. What difference does it make as to who gets seen first?"
"None," the interrupting Incubator replied. "Now, can one of you select ten at random so our plan can be put into motion?"
"It will be done," a different Incubator from before said. "Why don't just send the first ten Incubators whose numbers end with a zero?"
The Incubator was referring to how their kind identified themselves on the rare occasions that required standing out in some manner. There, Incubators referred to themselves as a color and a number, separated by a hyphen if needed. The color represented their eye color, the lone distinguishing feature most Incubators had to their name, while the number represented which Incubator they had replaced, or, if no replacement had been made, the new arrival got assigned the lowest positive number not assigned to a living Incubator.
Ten Incubators raised their heads a little higher, addressing the rest of the crowd as they did, their attempts to be heard overlapping with each other and in general just creating another bout of incomprehensible gibberish. However, those who weren't chosen took note of their eye colors: four reds, two greens, two blues, one purple, and the last pitch-black.
"The cloaking technology we need is with the rest of the supplies," the purple-eyed Incubator said. "Our departure is nigh, so do not waste any more time than necessary."
With a chorus of "Aye," the ten of them slipped into the supply area of the ship, by far the largest of the four areas, the other three designated for the cockpit, the maintenance crew, and connecting everything else together, respectively. While its design displayed nothing but simplicity, showing a slate-gray floor with matching walls, a soft glow from two overhead lights bathing anything inside, the devices inside were anything but simple.
Every piece of relevant Incubator technology resided here, each one something that boggled the mind and perplexed the soul. The storage room was filled with a million pieces of sleek, shiny metal interspersed with odd chunks of flexible, grayish-blue material, the result of mixing a powder native to their homeworld with water (which existed, although not in nearly as much abundance as their current location). Tangled messes of wire matching every color of the rainbow and then some snaked between them, stretched to their breaking point to keep everything powered up. And, in the center of it all, the fabled Daedalus Device, a juggernaut of metal, electronics, and wire that took sole responsibility for generating the power that kept the ship and everything on it running. Now, it creaked and groaned as it released another burst of energy, enough to cause a brief surge in the lights overhead and a loud backfiring noise from the engine.
The cloaking devices lay behind everything else, a small pile in the far corner that required some careful navigation to reach. The ten chosen Incubators slipped through the tangled maze with minimal difficulty, fit the devices snugly against their small frames, and within a few seconds, nothing but empty space appeared to occupy the area they once had.
"We should return soon," one of the invisible Incubators said, although which one was anyone's guess. "Nevertheless, we will stay in contact with everyone here until we enter the ship once more."
The room filled with calls wishing the ten of them good luck, mixed with a few choice words from those who had been overlooked for this important task. However, the scouts paid no heed to them, instead waiting for the door to the outside world to open. And once it did, they exited one after the other, plummeting headlong toward this strange new world.
After what felt like hours of perilous free-falling, Red-160 hit the ground with a thud.
Despite the clean landing, he had to wonder if they'd chosen a tactful place to land. The light had gone from dim to nonexistent, leaving him just south of blind. While the area they'd dropped into had plenty of flora, with towering trees and flowers in every color of the rainbow, it appeared devoid of anything moving, besides them and the plants waving in the unsteady breeze. The air felt hot and sticky, and little dribbles of water kept falling from above, either plopping into nearby puddles or splashing the Incubators with unwanted moisture.
"Be careful," one of the other Incubators said. "The cloaking devices might not be resistant to liquid, and I know none of us want to take chances here."
"Well, then let's pick a direction and spread out evenly," Red-160 told the others. "If you see anything interesting, tell the others about it. The quicker we accomplish our goals, the better."
No response was necessary for that, with everyone, including Red-160, scurrying off in an arbitrary direction. Before long, he'd lost sight of the others. Unfortunately, this came with the caveat that he'd also lost sight of anything else. No other sentient beings nearby, let alone fellow Incubators.
A flash suddenly lit up the world, and right afterward, a loud, vicious rumble echoed through the area, causing him to flinch on sheer reflex. Although this phenomenon did not occur back home, he knew what it stood for: time to get to cover, and fast. However, as the first few droplets of water slammed into him, beginning to soak him to his core, it became clear he hadn't been fast enough.
To his dismay, he saw one of his front paws flicker into existence for a split second before vanishing. Maybe this defection spread to only his device and the others were safe, but he had to warn them nevertheless. "My device is sensitive to water, cloaking's starting to fail. Be careful out there!"
"Get to somewhere dry," one of the others replied. "Stay there until it stops raining, and then the device should start working again. I address this to everyone, by the way, not just Red-160. Don't compromise the objective."
An echo chamber of replies, each of them something along the lines of, "We won't," followed that. Meanwhile, Red-160 dashed between the trees and foliage, dodging puddles and trickles from above at every turn, the cloaking growing more and more sporadic the longer he failed to find anywhere to wait. At the very least, this area appeared free of prying eyes, so he didn't have to worry about being seen too early.
Then, with a flash of lightning, his temporary destination had revealed itself. Set in a small clearing, it appeared to be nothing more than a simple dwelling, although its size dwarfed what Incubators were used to. The two windows on the side Red-160 could see betrayed no light, the chimney spewed no smoke, and as he approached the place, taking care to stay out of what he believed were the sight lines of anyone looking out the window, no noise made its way outside either.
His first plan was to merely huddle under the roof that extended beyond the walls of the house, but the driving wind blowing rain at him no matter which side he picked made that infeasible. Thus, only one other option was left, and chances were, it was not going to end well.
"My cloaking's gone," he said. "I found somewhere dry to stay until it starts working again, so I'll be waiting."
"That's fine," was the response. "Just be careful. Stay out of sight if possible, and if not, figure something out."
One of the windows had been left open a crack, probably to ward off the brutal heat. Now, it served as an entry point for Red-160. He scrambled up to the windowsill as best as he was able, checked once, twice, three times for any movement or sign of occupation the house had, then squeezed inside, malfunctioning cloaking device and all.
Meanwhile, in another part of the Rainforest District, the sudden storm wasn't doing Judy and Nick any favors. Even with their windshield wipers working overtime, they could see maybe fifty feet ahead of them, and after their car almost skidded off the road on a hairpin curve, Judy threw an elbow at Nick and made him drop their speed by at least fifteen miles an hour. Now, they crept along the rainswept roads, Nick driving and Judy watching him drive, both of them sporadically glancing out the windows to make sure nothing suspicious happened under their noses.
"Of course we get assigned here during a thunderstorm," Nick said. "I guess the weather just hates me that much today."
"Oh, nonsense," Judy replied, suppressing a playful smirk at Nick's antics. "It's the Rainforest District, this is normal. Heck, this is better than it was here yesterday, so I don't know what you're complaining about."
The radio buzzed, a sign that a dispatch was about to come through. And sure enough, one did mere seconds later, Judy listening intently. "All patrolling units in the Rainforest District, a car accident just occurred at the corner of Canopy and Camellia," Chief Bogo said. "Looks like a hit-and-run based on the state of the car. Officers requested at the scene."
Before Judy could reach for her walkie-talkie and take it on, for they couldn't be more than a few minutes away based on their GPS system, another voice chimed in to beat them to it. "We got this one, we're only a block away," Wolford said. "Officer Fangmeyer and I responding as we speak."
"Good," Chief Bogo said. "Any backup requested?"
"We think we'll be fine, it's just one car," Fangmeyer replied.
Judy shook her head, emitting a tiny groan. "Well, looks like we missed that one."
"Don't worry about it, it's being handled," Nick said. "You don't have to worry about everything; there's more officers than just the two of us, you know."
"I know," Judy said, "but after our first case, I always feel like even the tiniest little problem could always unravel something much bigger. I know it's selfish of me, but, but-"
"You want another big case," Nick said. "So do the rest of us. Slow your roll, Carrots. You got set up with the Night Howler case because Bogo wanted to see you fail. Big cases aren't always a good thing for the mammals investigating them, and I think you're forgetting something about all those cases."
"I'd never wish something like the Night Howler case to happen to anyone," Judy said, putting together the pieces on her own. "I'm really sorry, I don't know how to articulate this without sounding like a terrible mammal and a worse officer."
"You're neither, so don't worry about that," Nick said. "Besides, only getting the big cases for a while would be exhausting. It's nice to have smaller ones every now and again, it makes the bigger ones seem even more exciting by comparison. And besides, there's a reason the news branded the Night Howler case as a once-in-a-century ordeal. Cases like that aren't just going to fall into your lap."
As if that had been the incantation for a spell, the radio flared to life again, with Bogo sending a transmission once more. "All patrolling units in the Rainforest District, there appears to have been a break-in at 144 Rafflesia Lane. No clue as to the identity of the suspect yet, but we need to respond to this, and promptly."
Judy took a glance at the GPS, noting that they were five minutes away at absolute most, then reached for the walkie-talkie. "Officer Hopps, here with Officer Wilde. We're in the area, we'll take care of this one. Description of the address in question?"
"Single story house, wood exterior, should have a green front door. Last house on the street, impossible to miss. Be careful with this one, Hopps," Bogo said.
Nick couldn't resist the opportunity, so he took the other walkie-talkie, saying, "Hey, what about me?"
"You too, Wilde," Bogo replied, a note of sarcasm evident, and then the transmission ended.
"Okay, let's get this under control," Judy said. "Rafflesia's the next right, we'll be there any minute. Once we get there, be prepared."
"Don't worry," Nick said, "I'm always prepared."
Judy released a bit of a laugh at that, although it didn't stop her from steeling her nerves as Nick made the turn onto Rafflesia Lane, beginning their journey down this narrow, lonely road.
Author's Notes:
Hello there, and thanks for giving this weird little crossover of mine a fair shake. Now, before we get any further, I'm just going to go over a few things that I feel are story-relevant. (Don't worry, there'll never be an author's note of this length for the rest of the story.)
-1: This will spoil the entire plot of both Zootopia and Puella Magi Madoka Magica (although, in the latter case, the sequel movie and any spinoffs will be ignored [with the exception of one detail from Magia Record] for both personal and plot-relevant reasons). For those of you on the Zootopia side of this crossover, any PMMM elements put into play will be explained as they appear. Meanwhile, for those on the PMMM side, as long as you know the basic premise and/or plot of Zootopia, you should be fine (although some references might go over your head). Nevertheless, to fans of either, I'd recommend you watch the other if you haven't already, for Zootopia is an excellent movie and PMMM is an excellent series.
-2: To add to that, while I did some research to make the Incubators as faithful to the source material as possible (heck, before my research, I thought they had blue fur, not white fur), a few changes will be made and creative liberties will be taken for the sake of the story. (For instance, in the source material, all Incubators have red eyes.)
-3: Furthermore, anything italicized and in double quotes is either a radio transmission or speech through telepathy, while anything italicized and in single quotes are the thoughts of the POV character.
-4: Lastly, I own neither Zootopia nor Puella Magi Madoka Magica, in case you couldn't tell.
-EDIT: Edited the character relationships. I'd prefer not to mislead people with what kind of story this is: this is not a shipfic, nor is romance a key element of it, even if the relationship between Judy and Nick will be explored.
That's all I've got. Thanks for your time, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you back for Chapter Two!