Summary:

Agent Deman takes a moment to get in some katas before meeting with the Mayor. Judy makes a desperate plea for help. Nick tries to figure out what's going on at the hospital. And Hugo bears witness to something strange.

Notes:

It's been three months since I last posted, and I know most of my fans have given up all hope (looking at Dakzoo) and all I can say is to that is that I am truly sorry. I have not abandoned this story, I promise you. I enjoy writing it far too much. My life has simply gotten more complicated and busy, and the hours I need to sit down and write this epic have become elusive.

The true origins of the grand city of Zootopia is a story lost to the mists of time and faded memories. Buried in a muddle of confusion, a mix of oral legends and poorly documented histories, written in over a thousand different mammal languages, each telling skewed even further toward the racial bias of the species that held on to their particular version of the truth. But shared in all those tales and myths was a singular theme, found hiding in plain sight in among all those varied truths common to prey and predator.

The water hole.

A place where predators and prey would gather, seeking to s lake their thirst , for water, for territory, for control, for war, and eventually, finally, for peace.

Zootopia Central Park

Special Agent-In-Charge Chi Daman gazed out over concrete railing that ran along the city hall's second floor balcony at the park that defined the cultural center of Zootopia. Here it was, local legend had it, that mammalian predator and prey had met to settle their ancient differences around a muddy watering hole, and in doing so sowing the seeds of peace and coexistence that would come to define the city that sprang up as a result of that agreement.

He had been so stressed by the event of the previous day that he had sought refugee among the green growing things, but even this early in the morning the central park teamed with busy mammals intent upon their day and too distracted to notice a small stripped rabbit trying to find a moment of peace. He had thought to perhaps explore the Rain Forest district some more, so achingly familiar to a rain forest rabbit like himself, but he simple didn't have the time. He had a meeting to attend with Bogo at Mayor Swinton's office in an hour, so he had to console himself with just a small patch of grass in the far corner of the city hall's balcony.

He stood quietly under the shade of a large maple towering over him, it's broad leaves breaking up the morning light into small rays of flickering light playing over his dappled fur. He had stripped to his waist, leaving his professional vestments folded carefully and placed on a bench. Standing in the grass, he breathed in deep the scent of moist loam and falling water, it's rhythmic cascade lulling him into a deeper state of consciousness. He drew his paws together, crossing them in front of his chest, his eyes lidding closed as his head and ears slipped back. He slid gracefully from that start into his first kata, his paw sliding forward to form a fist as his other slide down to the ready at his side, his feet readily finding their place beneath his hips as years of practice eased his transition from busy investigator to Que Kun artist.

As he progressed further into his katas, he also dived deeper into his tam or center, his spirit growing further attuned to the rhythms of his body, his senses sharpening as he drank in the peace of the moment. He slide into the 10th form, the dancing crane, his arms flowing fluidly through the air as if they were wings soar upon great updrafts, but his ears missed the beat. They didn't flow with the rest of him, but instead strained crosswise against his motion, jerking his head around.

His rabbit ears had picked up something faint, just at the edge of his consciousness, something that even they strained to perceived. He bent his head for moment as he concentrated on the sound, seeking to give it form and clarity. It sounded like a scream in the dark night, a cry for help against the poverty of hope. It was an animalistic shriek, as powerful as it was incoherent.

His eyes snapped open.

He turned his head to look at the other mammals who walked and lounged upon the broad balcony with him, to see if they too had heard the cry and were seeking it's source. But they seemed not to notice, absorbed as they were in their discussions and devotions. He quickly moved to the railing and stared out across the broad plaza, but all seemed calm, just mammals moving about their business in the manner that they were most accustomed to.

He frowned, as he was certain that he had heard something. He stood, grasping the rail with both paws and closed his eyes again. Faint, fading, the scream died in whispering echos. He struggled to hold onto the call, concentrating on the voice of the mammal in need, reaching out to them with all the strength of his trained mind.

BRRRRIIIIINNNGGGGG!

Jolted off balance by the unwelcome change in his tam by the ringing of his cell phone, left on the pile of his clothes under the old tree. His irritation at the interruption quickly grew into an irrational anger that itched just behind his brow. He struggled to control the mounting rage over the disruption to his concentration, burning up from his gut, just as his grandfather had taught him so many years ago. He was a rabbit used to the complete control of his body and mind, long past the struggles of his youth and the horrible family legacy of violence and rage.

Pirates and warlords, assassins and smugglers. Criminals, the lot of them. Every one, except him. And yet, he could not escape his name, a name he promised his grandfather that he would carry always, even as the old buck lay dying in his arms, his lost wisdom bleeding from cruel wounds to stain Daman's fur and soul.

Daman.

D ã Man.

SAVAGE…

Hugo's Home in the Snowy Hills

Judy felt a whisper of claws upon her fur for just a moment, like the fluttering of a butterfly's wing alighting on a flower, and then the sensation was gone. She breathed a tiny sigh of relief, for while she had accepted her fate at his paws, even if that fate was a swift death, she still preferred life. She wanted to stay, here and now, with him. But before she could gather her scattered thoughts, before she could utter any form of thanks or repentance for past sins, before she could even open her eyes, she was jolted out of her fur by a undulating screech, compounded by the sensation of hot fragrant liquid splashing across her face.

Shocked, she rocked back onto her haunches, her ears come up to full extension, her paws flying to her face as her eyes snapped open, her gaze quickly drawn to the writhing form of a cat in agony. Risking a quick glance down at the teapot, she saw that it had been kicked over, the tea inside dousing the flame of the lamp underneath it. She sniffed for a quick moment, realizing that the liquid upon her fur was the tea that he had prepared for her. She quickly returned her eyes to Hugo just in time to watch his eyes roll into the back of his skull and he fell backwards, collapsing on his mat. She jumped to her toes and scampered over to him, making sure that he hadn't knocked over any of the candles with his jerking limbs.

Nope, they're still lit, she realized with relief. At least she didn't have to worry about the house burning down around her ears while he convulsed in front of her. Avoiding the twitching of his limbs, the clutching and grasping of his paws in the air, claws extending and retracting in time to some god-awful beat that only he could hear. She looked down at his face, thinking that maybe she should try to put something in his mouth, to keep him from swallowing his tongue, but his jaws, filled with his sharp feline teeth, was clenched shut. Forget it, Judy, she advised herself. You reach in there, and you're liable to loose your paw.

She slid back to her knees, just behind his head, her back to fireplace. She laid a paw upon his forehead and gently called his name, "Hugo…" The moment she touched him, his twitching ceased and his eyes closed, but he still didn't respond to her. Concerned at the lack of response, and struggling to remember what to do when a mammal has a seizure, she slide her paw to the side of his neck, digging into his thick furn as she felt around for his carotid artery. Fast and uneven… That's not good! Um… Maybe I should call for some help or something, except that I don't want to leave him here like this… Wait a minute, he brought down his phone with his laptop, didn't he? Where is it?

She hurriedly glanced around at the floor, and saw that he was laying on his open laptop. She skittered around to that side, and pushed on his sidewith all the might her weakened body could muster, as slight as that was, but it was just enough to roll him over. She grabbed his phone and flipped it over, frowning as she realized that it was locked. I can call 911 with it, right? It's supposed to allow emergency calls. She lifted her paw and with a claw she reached down to the screen.

And froze.

Shit, shit, shit… She realized. I can't call for the paramedics. This is gonna look really weird to them . The candles, the ritual markings , him being this respected Zootopia physician and me being a convicted loony with a history of violence and the habit of killing predators she doesn't like. It would look really bad… She struggled to figure out how to explain it, and ran into a wall . I can't explain it. I can't possibly explain this, especially since I don't even know what the ritual is supposed to look like, exactly . Hell, I need somebody who knows him who can explain this all to me so that I can explain it to the dispatcher. Except that I don't know anybody here like that… Just Meredith, Dale, Fennick….

She bolted upright as she realized, FENNICK! He's known the cat for years! I bet he knows all his history, even his medical history! Plus, he's a street counselor – he's gotta know what do in this situation. I'll call him!

Reaching across his now still form, she slide the phone under his finger pad. Left or right? Which one is it? The phone dinged and the screen lit up. Hey, hey, hey, Jude the Dude! What do you know, you got it right on the first try!

She tapped on the contacts icon, and quickly scrolled down to Fennick's listing. Stabbing at the connect button, she waited impatiently for the call to connect.

Brinng... Brinng… Brinng… Click.

"Yo! My Cat! What's up?" A gravely voice called out of the speaker.

Judy's breath exploded out of her chest in a rush. She hadn't realized she had been holding it. She nearly screamed back at him.

"FENNICK, IT'S JUDY! PLEASE! I NEED YOUR HELP!"

Clawhauser's Room at Tundra Town Central Hospital

His nibbled doughnut momentarily forgotten and his voice gone quiet with worry, Clawhauser breathed, "Nick… What's going on?"

Nick's ears perked up as he listed to the sound of rushing feet patter down the hallway, "I don't know..."

"Drill?" Wolfard ventured.

"After yesterday?" Clawhauser objected.

Nick offered an option, "Maybe your goat friend got out again?"

"No way!" Clawhauser shook his head. "Doctor Muskat said they had him in a medically induced coma after they took out half his skull."

Nick and Wolfard traded a look. Nick tilted his head at his partner and quietly barked, "Call it in." Wolfard leaned his head over as he grabbed his shoulder mike and quickly called ZPD dispatch for more information. Nick jumped to his feet on Clawhauser's bed and briskly walked to the wall at the cheetah's head. Picking up the phone headset, he leaned on the call button until he got an answer.

"Yes, Sargent Clawhauser?" A breathless nurse responded.

"Sargent Wilde, actually. ZPD. What's going on?" He asked in a no-nonsense authoritative tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sargent Wilde. We just got a call that the ZPD is bringing in another one for isolation, and the Hospital's security director ordered the lockdown."

"Another one? Another what?" He asked.

"Another Savage victim." She told him.

Nick reeled slightly, reaching out to the wall to steady himself. His mind raced as he grasped the implication, One victim is an anomaly, two victims is a pattern. Shit! It's happening again.

Wolfard came up to the bedside to fill the fox in what he learned, "The vic, or perp, is some sheep ram was being held on grand theft auto charges down in central holding. Apparently he went berserk and tried to kill his cellmate."

"Who was that?" Nick asked him.

"Just your friendly neighborhood two-bit con-artist, Weaselton."

Nick put the receiver to his shoulder as he snorted in amusement, "Well, if I was locked in a cell with Duke for longer than five minutes, I might considered murdering the little rat too."

Wolfard shook his head, "Not murder. He tried to eat Weaselton."

Nick's jaw dropped open as he stared back at the wolf. Flabergasted, he retorted, "Sheep are strict herbivores! They don't eat any meat at all. They might trample you, but eat you?" He shook his head.

Wolfard shrugged, "That's what the SWAT team said they saw just before they busted into the cell to take him down. They pumped him full of happy juice and stuffed him in the closest available prisoner transport." He waved at the walls, "They should be here any moment now."

Nick turned back to the phone and barked out, "Open the door!"

"Yes, sir!" The nurse on the other end obeyed. The door to the room buzzed and popped open. Wolfard immediately started for it as Nick hung up the phone. Turning around and leaning over a bit, he patted Clawhauser's shoulder. "We'll be be back, buddy." He turned and jumped down off the bed.

"Okay..." Clawhauser mumbled, but he spoke up before Nick reached the door held open by Wolfard, "Nick?"

Nick turned back to look back at him, "Yeah?"

"Be careful." Clawhauser jerked his head at the hallway.

Nick shrugged, "Hey, it's just some ram off the streets they snagged off the street. How dangerous can they be?"

Clawhauser looked down at the smaller vulpine and he quietly pointed out, "That's what I thought too..."

Wolf grinned as he assured the cat, "It's okay, Benjamin. I'll make sure he doesn't get stepped on."

Nick turned to look up at the taller wolf, and with a mock snarl he growled out, "That's it… I'm gonna bite you..."

"BBBBBBLLLLLEEEEEEEAAAAA!"

A haunting scream echoed down the sterile hallways.

Somewhere… Else...

Hugo blinked. He didn't quite believe what he saw. He blinked again, and scowled. That wasn't the ceiling of his meditation den above his head. No, it was most certainly a dark night's sky, awash with twinkling pin pricks of colors and a broad band of milky white stretching from horizon to horizon. The Milky Way, he thought, but I've never seen it so clear before, not even back in my kitten hood in the depths of the Amazonia jungle.

He turned his head to drink in the expanse of pure naked sky above him, the motion releasing esters from the rich loam that he lay upon, carpeted with mosses and lichens. His nose twitched as it sampled the scents in the cold night air, a hint of snow on the breeze. With the breeze came other scents he certainly recognized, and scents he truly did not.

Fox and hare, wolf and deer, cat and elephant. All familiar but strange, off somehow. And a nagging scent he did not recognize, buried in the scents of rendered tallow and wood smoke, a scent of stinging sweat and acrid urine.

He sat up and as he did so he glanced around himself, trying to get his bearings, the iris of his feline eyes expanding to drink in all the available light. He could see that he lay upon a short hillock that stood proud over an undulating valley, part of a much larger plain dotted with hills and ponds. Looking down he realized with a sudden start that he was nude. Where are my pants? I'm completely naked! And I'm certainly not in my home anymore. Like the cat he was born to be, he quickly gathered his broad paws beneath himself and stood. He stared over the hilly plains toward the horizon which ended too soon, capped as it was by a enormous wall of gray and white. Glacier, he though, and it's a big one. It takes up half the horizon.

A flicker of warm yellow light caught the corner of his eye and he turned to witness a strange sight, down the hill below his vantage point. At the base of his hill lay a small muddy pond, and on the banks of that pond a gaggle of small strange huts. They were strange affairs, round and dome like, made from looked like sticks and bone covered in reeds and hide. From them, drawn up by the night's breeze, drifted the sick and oily smell of cured mammal hide. Bear, caribou, rhino… His nose quickly told him.

Guttural muttering and barking laughter came from the center of the ring of huts where a stubborn fire burned in the dark, and around that fire sat strange creatures, tall and long limbed, but robed in a strange patch work of furry hides and reeds. Their faces were flat and long, furless and encrusted with dirt and ash. They only seemed to have long spiky fur upon the top of their heads.

"What are they?" He asked the night, quietly, almost to himself.

Those that came before… The night responded to his query.

Hugo looked up to his left to watch the stars move to stand next to him. The suggestion of a great and powerful body formed as space time itself warped and wrapped into a being that Hugo knew, deep in his bones, to be none other than…

Lord Jaguar…

"Before what?" Hugo asked the towering presence.

The head bent towards him and two great yellow eyes, ancient and kind, beheld him.

Before all you know… Lord Jaguar rumbled

"Where are we?"

The beginning... Lord Jaguar breathed once more.

A pale flicker of white danced across the far ice wall. Hugo looked up at the crack and crenelated surface rising above the hilly tundra. More ghosts appeared to dance in the ice, jerking and weaving across the face. Is it getting lighter out? He wondered. He looked down at his feet and watched a shadow grow from his feet in stark relief to the brilliant green carpet that he stood on. Que pasa?

He turned around, looking for the source of brilliant light that was turning the deep night to daylight. There, far above him, in the night's sky a pinprick burned. With each passing moment, it grew every larger, ever brighter, ever closer. As he stared up at the brilliant light bring tears to his sensitive eyes, moving swiftly across the night sky towards him, he could feel a growing heat upon his whiskers and a silence in his ears.

There was a pause, a blink really, when every living thing on that green plain seems to hold it's breath as it watched with him as a second sun bloomed in the night sky.

The sky went white as the world screamed in agony.