Smoke and ash, everywhere. Here rest the smoldering heaps of what was once a thriving town. I could feel my heart pounding. My muscles were trembling, wanting to trash out in anger, while my brain was telling me to panic, to run away from this. I could feel my anxiety build as I got closer and closer to what remained of the town's entrance. Great walls were once erected around this town, but they lay, reduced to charred wood and warped, melting metal. What, who could have done this?

I think Onion was trying to tell me something, but my focus was singular, with one goal in mind: find any survivors. As I moved into the town, a strong wind started to blow smoke and ash into my face. I started to cough, the combination of loose slag being tossed into the air, and the increasing putridness of burning flesh writhed into my lungs and eyes. Itwas making it hard to concentrate on the task before me. I stopped, pulled out some safety goggles and a bandanna that I wrapped around my mouth and nose. It wasn't perfect, but it helped immensely. I buttoned up my trench coat and continued on.

Whatever did this was merciless. Not a single building was left standing, even what I assumed were the holding tanks for water had ruptured. If it held water once, it was dry, the heat of the flames must have evaporated it. The first thing I noticed was a giant charred sign lying on the ground before me. It was split in half, but I recognized the word Beaverton on it. The charring looked fairly recent. This attack must have happened earlier in the day, if I had to guess, I'd say three to four hours earlier. I could still feel the heat from some of the wood scattered around me, and saw the occasional flickering of flame.

While there were no buildings left standing, I did what I could to dig through the rubble. I told Onion to keep his sensors open, monitoring for sounds, movement, or any signs of life. So far all I found were bodies. Even through the fabric on my face, I could smell dead. I did all I could to hold back my nausea. I found the remains of a table, with what once looked like food scattered around, with four bodies surrounding it. They had been enjoying a meal when they died. There were no signs of struggle. At one moment they were alive, happy, and the next they were dead, burned alive in their own home.

I moved onto the remnants of other buildings and it was all the same. Many died in their own homes, doing whatever it was they typically did. It was even worse once I got to the center of town. The attack must have happened during the peak of trading hours. I saw what looked like booths and burnt tents scattered. It must have looked like one of those old fashion outdoor markets I read about in the history books. Vendors selling their wares, while troves of people made their way though, trying to get what they needed. There, in the dead center of it all was a crater, lined with ash. That must have been ground zero for an attack. Was it a bomb? I looked closer. There were no bodies here, the explosion must have been so strong that it vaporized anything within a few feet of it. It was still hot.

The fallen ash had covered any signs of who was responsible. Paw-prints, hoof marks, nothing was identifiable, and even if they were, it would be hard pressed to tell whose was who. This placed looked like it saw hundreds of animals a day. I wanted to try to figure this out, but my head was not having it. Between the smoke, smell, and the anxiety, I could not think straight. I got up and continued to look. There had to be someone alive, or at least something to tell me who the fuck could have done this.

"Miss? You should come over here."

Did he find a survivor? I turned and headed in his direction. Once I got past the initial blast radius, the bodies and debris appeared again. I moved carefully, not wanting to step on anyth …, anyone. I couldn't help them, there were too many to even give a good burial, but I can at least make sure I treated their bodies with respect, and once I find out who did this, I will give them these poor souls the retribution they deserve.

When I got to where Onion was, the first thing I noticed was that it had been a much larger building than the rest. The foundation was at least three times the size. It must have held a great deal of animals in it. Was it a place for travelers to rest? The one thing I did notice, however, was the lack of bodies. Thankfully this place must have been vacant. I saw Onion over to one corner where part of the walls and roof were still intact.

"What did you find Onion?"

He did not have to respond. I took my goggles off so that I could see better. Crouched in a corner was a pig. I could not make out the gender. Its skin was blackened. Most of theclothing was burned, but I could tell that some of it had gotten ripped as well. I walked over, taking it very slow so that the pig did not see me as a threat. It did not say anything, but suddenly collapsed on the ground. I rushed over.

"Onion, vitals!"

"He's alive Miss, but just barely."

I went over and tried to help him up. I grabbed his burned arm but suddenly recoiled as he spoke.

"I … can't feel …"

"Sir, I am here to help. Please, what can I do?"

"How …"

"Easy there, you are badly burned. Onion! Do we have anything that could help?"

"I am sorry Miss, even with the supplies that Mr. Bo gave us, we have nothing that can help with such bad burns."

"No, there has to be something we can do!" I couldn't take no for an answer. I had to help him, but how?

He tried to get up but then fell down again. "Please … are they? I tried … I tried …"

"Who? Are there other survivors?" If I could save even a few.

Onion drifted towards me and spoke with a low tone, "There do not appear to be any other life signs on my readings."

"Who did this to you?"

"Red … Necks."

Red-Necks? That name sounded familiar. Didn't I hear those two outside the stadium mention them? The wolf seemed rather nervous when he mentioned their name.

"The … children … are … they …"

Children? Oh no. Please, no. I got up and looked around. I saw no bodies. Then, I noticed a large piece of metal that was very out of place on the floor. I went over to it and grabbed one end. It was very heavy but I managed to move it enough to see that it covered an opening. Then it hit me. The smell was worse than anything here. I think part of me knew what to expect, but I had to make sure. I went around to the opening and glanced down. Heat billowed up and distorted the air around it. I covered my mouth and nose with my paw, the bandanna being useless. I turned on my Pip-Boar's light and shone it down into the hole. I couldn't hold it anymore, I vomited.

Inside were at least a dozen bodies. Their fur falling off, the skin bubbling. I knew who they were. It was the children. This was a school. This was a fucking school! When the attacks happened, he must have lead them down there thinking they would be safe, not knowing that he just put them into a giant oven. To mindlessly kill adults, that was one thing, but these were children. These were fucking innocent children! These Red-Necks, whoever they are, they will pay.

When my nausea calmed down enough to collect myself, I dragged the metal back over it. There was nothing I could do. This would be their tomb. I walked over to the pig, my thoughts swimming with what I would do to those responsible if, no when I found them. I knelt beside the pig and placed my paw on his back. His nerves must have been deadened from the burn because he did not react.

"The children? Are … are they ok?"

"They … they're …" I just could not get myself to tell them that they were all dead, that his helping only caused them to suffer greater. The tears were starting to fall.

"Miss?" Onion started, his voice low again, "I ran a complete analysis of his condition. It's not good. Even if he somehow managed to live, his skin is so badly burned that there is no chance of full epidermal recovery. He is blind in one eye, his lungs are severely damaged due to the smoke inhalation, and at least one leg has suffered enough trauma that he will probably not be able to walk again without proper medical treatment – treatment, that I am sorry to say, is probably not within reach."

He wasn't going to make it.

He struggled to look up at me, one eye a clouded globe, the other looking as if he wanted to cry, but the tears were not coming. "Miss … please. I know that … my time is … done. I cannot … feel … anything. Please … end my … suffering. Protect the … children."

"No, you can make it, you have to. The children are … " Dead? Cooked to death from your mistake? No. One one deserves to know that. "The children are safe. But you …"

"I'm already … dead. Please …"

I don't know how, but I knew what I had to do. No one should be able to live with this pain. Even if he did manage to make it through, he would eventually learn of his mistake, and have to live with the pain of both their loss and his disability. I started feel tears fall down my face as I pulled out my gun. Part of me did not want him to see me like this, but the other part, I know that in his position, I would want to see that they cared when they ended my pain. I put the gun to his head as he closed his eyes.

"Thank … you."

I pulled the trigger. It was clean and quick. He fell to the ground, a smile on his face. I didn't even know his name. He could have been a teacher, a parent, maybe he was the mayor. I will never know, just as he will never have to know that he was protecting those that were already dead. They say ignorance is bliss, and at times like this I couldn't agree more.

"Miss?"

"Not now Onion. Not. Now."

I collapsed to the ground as I let it all out. This world was cruel. This world was horrible. Why the hell did I even being to think that I could find a better life out here? Everything that I have seen of this world makes me wish I was still back in Burrow Seventy-Six cleaning out toilets. At least then I would still be ignorant of the cruelty that exists.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, my tears still flowing as if they came from some never ending river. Every time I thought this world had flung its worst at me, it comes up with something even more horrible. I have only been on the surface for a few days, and I already could feel my life being drained by some unseen lich, draining the life-force of everyone who comes here to extend its own horrible existence. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see the faces of those taken by cruelty. The cheetah who simply wanted to help her husband, Bo's wife and child, fearful of their lives as they were sold to someone who would do who knows what to them. I saw the faces of children, screaming as their flesh melted from their bones, the surrounding smells emphasizing the vivid image. I tried to vomit again but I had nothing in me. I was feeling as empty as those around me.

I felt a small poke in my backside. I turned towards the source, my eyes feeling sore from all the tears I have shed. It was Onion. He was floating beside me, not saying a word, but I could tell that he was doing his best to comfort me, like an arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry Onion."

"It's ok Miss, this is a lot for anyone to handle."

"No, I am sorry, for everything. You were right. I was being selfish, to me and to you. I dragged you out here when you advised against it, because of what? Not getting my 'perfect' job? Not having friends or family to lean on? I am a stupid selfish rabbit who doesn't even deserve to be by your side."

"Miss Springs. Olivia. You are not stupid. Misinformed, brash, stubborn, and at times a bit scatterbrained, but you are not stupid."

I wiped my eyes and actually felt a smile run across my face, "gee, thanks for the compliments."

"In the time we have been out here, I have seen you find a way to save us from ghouls, rescue animals in distress, and even disarm explosive collars with relative ease. On top of that, if those slavers had made it here, they would have all befallen the same fate as this town. You have contributed more out here for your fellow mammals than you would ever have in the Burrow. Yes, I thought it was a mistake to leave, but as you have said, something has chosen you. Be it fate, destiny, or simply luck, I believe that if anyone can help, it is you, but not if you keep sitting here wallowing in self-pity."

Onion was right. I am here and there's no turning back. If I can do anything to help a fellow mammal, I will do it, even if that means making sacrifices of my own. This world may be broken, but I have a knack for fixing things, and I will die trying to. I slowly got up, trying not to look at the pig or to that metal plate. I had to keep focused, I can't do anything to help them now, but I can at least try to get some retribution.

"We need to see if anyone else is alive, we need to help anyone we can."

"I am afraid it's too late Miss. I decided that you needed some time alone, so I went searching for any survivors. I am sad to say I was unsuccessful. It looks like the Mayor will not be receiving his letter."

The letter! I almost forgot about the letter Onion found on the cheetah's wagon. I tore open the side of the envelope and pulled out the folded letter inside.

'Mayor Augustus Brown,

I hope that this letter reaches you in time. I have reports of a group of Red-Necks heading towards your town, and I do not believe that they come to trade. Rumors have been spreading that you are trying to cut into the Slave Prince's operation. My people have assured him that it is not the case, but it seems that he has hired the Red-Necks to pay you a visit, and I do not think it will end well. I have dispatched this letter with some trustworthy traders who just so happened to be en-route to Beaverton, to deliver this warning. Do not try to combat them, I suggest complete evacuation. I will try to fix things on my end, but until this blows over, Beaverton will be a target.

Sincerely, your friend, Matt.'

It was a warning. They were trying to warn Beaverton. If those damn ghouls had not attacked the wagon, if those fuckers did not kill that cheetah in cold blood, then this town, these children may have been spared. Even if the town was burned to the ground, as long as they lived, it could be rebuilt. But no. The message did not make it, and these people, innocent or not, these people suffered, and all because some fucker thought these people were cutting into their business. A paw-full of caps is not grounds for a mass murder!

I needed to pay this Slave Prince a visit. Unfortunately, I am lacking the knowledge to his whereabouts, and despite what I have been through, I have only survived through pure luck, and if he can afford someone to destroy an entire town, I doubt I could do anything. I needed help, and I had an idea on where to start.

"Onion, we are leaving. There's nothing left here and we need to get moving."

"I agree Miss, but where too?"

"Hope. We are going to pay our friend Bo a visit."

"It's getting dark Miss, maybe we should find a place to rest?"

I lost track of how long it's been since we left Beaverton. I didn't really remember what time it was when we arrived there. The only thing I could think about was tracking down the monster that did this and making him suffer. The burned corpses, the faces of the children, it was all I could think of. Every time I closed my eyes I saw them. My tears dried up a while back, I wanted to be sad, but I couldn't anymore. Anger and hate was slowly consuming me. If fate had chosen me to be a hero, it could have at least told me what I was getting into. To be honest, if I knew about any of this, I would have probably just laughed in fate's face and said no, nothing could be that bad. I couldn't have been farther from the truth.

I did not even know where we were going. I blindly followed a blip on my Pip-Boar. Onion had programmed our destination based upon what maps he found of the area. I didn't care where I went, or what I encountered along the way, I had to get to Hope and ask Bo for help. I needed a strong set of arms to help me. I just hoped that he would agree to help, he did not talk too kindly of Beaverton, but what if his slaver's had been there when it was attacked? If they did not meet me, Bo, his wife, and his daughter might have been among the corpses. The thought was so deep in my thought that I did not notice the obstacle below me until I tripped and planted my face on the ground.

"Miss are you alright?"

"Do I looked alright!?"

"Miss, I was only …"

"I … I'm sorry Onion. I shouldn't have snapped at you, it's just, I have a lot on my mind right now. I am having so many emotions pour through me that I don't think my brain has the capability to process everything."

"It has been an exhausting day for you Miss, both mentally and physically. That is why I believe you need to rest. You already know what dangers are out here, and adding exhaustion to the mix is not healthy."

Once again he was right. Onion might annoy me at times, but he does care. Having a mind comprised of logic can be helpful at time, especially when I am feeling so very lost.

"Alright Onion, let's find a good place to set up camp. How about over there?"

Despite the encroaching darkness, I was able to make out a few buildings that looked mostly intact. One of them was boarded up really well, but another one had a small opening that Onion and I could barely fit through. Onion asked to go in first, to make sure it was safe. I agreed, knowing that if there was something inside, I was not sure if I would be able to think myself out of it in my condition. My head was starting to clear a bit, and hopefully after a good night's sleep, I would be able to think straight again.

It was a two story building, and while it seemed fairly intact from the outside, Onion was in there for while without informing me of anything. After about fifteen minutes I was starting to get worried. I did not hear anything, but from what I have seen out here, I should expect anything. For all I know, something could have developed the ability to eat robots. That be just my luck too.

After another five minutes I was getting antsy, and decided that I would go in after him. I turned on my Pip-Boar's light and shone it through the hole. I did not see anything out of place, so I risked entering. I was very careful about going through the shattered doorway, trying not to impale myself with a shard of wood. Last thing I needed was a splinter getting infected. Death by splinter, wouldn't that make for a lackluster demise after what I have been through.

When I got inside I turned to take a look around and my face was placed inches from something. In panic I threw my paw forward and hit whatever it was. Fuck! That hurt!

"Miss, why did you just punch me?"

It was Onion. Great Olivia, you just punched your only friend. That would explain why it felt like I just punched a brick.

"Sorry Onion, you startled me is all. I was getting worried, is everything ok?"

"Apart from some structural damage that would not pass the most lenient inspection, it appears to be safe. I, however, now have an extra dent to deal with."

"I said I was sorry."

I looked around the room I was in. Just like everything else, there was a good amount of dust over it. Nothing looks like it had been touched for a very long time, so hopefully there were no surprises … I was starting to hate surprises. I saw an almost intact bookcase standing against a wall. Most of the books were tattered, age having destroyed them. The bookcase itself was only missing a few shelves. I walked up to it and put my shoulder against it. With what little energy I had left, I managed to push it against the hole we came in. I did not want any unexpected visitors tonight.

"There are beds upstairs, but the floor is looking rather degraded, perhaps we should just stay on this floor?"

"Would it support me, just for a moment? I wanna look around to make sure everything is good. Not that I do not trust your sensors, but I think I need to give myself a little piece of mind."

"As long as you do not do anything like play hopscotch up there, it should be fine. Just be careful Miss."

I smiled at Onion, I think the first time I smiled since I arrived at Beaverton. I was feeling better already. Sure I still wanted to take vengeance against whomever destroyed Beaverton, but I did not feel Hate's claws guiding me anymore. Once I get some sleep, I think will be a lot better.

I slowly climbed the stairs, every step creaking louder than the last. I think if anything was here, they would have heard me by now. Once I got to the top of the stairs I noticed three rooms. One on either side of me with their doors closed, and one directly ahead, it's door slightly ajar. I slowly crept past the two closed doors and reached the ajar one. Placing my paw on it I slowly opened it as it squeaked. Inside was a baby crib, with a small bed next to it. Some kind of mobile hung above it, featuring tiny stuffed dolls on it. One looked like the gazelle from the poster in the stadium, while the others were tigers. I reached out and spun it.

I searched the room but did not find anything useful. On one of the dressers was were some framed pictures. I picked one up and dusted it off. In the picture were three sheep. The ewe on the right was dressed in a cute little sun-dress, while the ram on the right was dressed in some kind of uniform. I think it was a police uniform. They were holding what looked like a baby. While the parents had large fluffy wool, the baby was barely covered in a white fuzz. It had to be only a few months old. I put the picture down and dusted off another. This one had a picture of the father, dressed in the same uniform, outside this same house and standing in front of a large police car. That thing looked more like a tank, with its hard edges. The last frame's glass was shattered, and its contents missing. I wonder what happened to them?

I left that room and closed the door behind me. I know that the residents would never come back, but it felt like the proper thing to do. I went to the left side room and slowly opened the door. Minus the same layer of dust and a broken window, the room looked spotless. The bed was neatly made, there was nothing scattered on the floor, save for the window glass. The only thing out of place was on the dresser. There were frames like the ones in the baby's room, but this time, all four of them had their pictures removed.

I searched the room, but once again did not find much. All the clothing was too large for me, and there were no supplies or other helpful items. I did, however, find a locked drawer on a desk over in the corner. I knew I should be respectful, but for some reason, every time I see something locked, curiosity overwhelms me. I pulled out two of the antennas that were left over from my previous lock picking and went to work. I almost snapped this one, but after a minute the lock popped. I was getting better at this, although I may have to find a replacement soon, I doubt I would get lucky again.

There were only four things inside. A small gun, a box of ammo, a small box, and an unmarked envelope. The ammo was luckily the same that my gun used, so I pocketed it, and I also took the gun, if anything it might be worth trading. That left the box and the envelope. The envelope was not sealed, rather it was tucked in itself. I opened it carefully and read its contents.

'Dear Mrs. Stocktram,

It is my solemn duty as Chief of the Zootopia Police Department to inform you that your husband, Officer Marty Stocktram, was killed in the line of duty. He served both his department and his community with utmost regard. In his twelve years in the ZPD, he has upheld the law with compassion for both his fellow officers, and his fellow animals. As with standard procedures, we have delivered all of your husband's belongings to you, along with a gift that was to be given to him upon retirement. We know that this will not help to ease your loss, nor is it meant to, but rather to show that he was both an upstanding officer and citizen of the city of Zootopia. His funeral expenses will be paid for by the ZPD, and you will be contacted within twenty-four hours to make arrangements for the funeral. You have the deepest regards from myself along with the entire precinct. If you need anything, feel free to contact me directly.

Chief Bogo, ZPD Precinct One'

With that, my emotions started to flood back. I did not know them, but I knew what it would be like to grow up not knowing your father. That letter must have been devastating, and to happen after starting a family? I pulled myself together and picked up the box. This must have been the retirement gift. I opened it slowly. Inside was one of the Treasures of Zootopia coins. The side that was facing me was the head of a ram, not too dissimilar to the one I saw in the picture. I carefully took it out and flipped it over. On the other side was printed the word Kindness. I wanted to put it back, I should have put it back, but just like the other two, they seemed to be calling to me. I placed the box back into the drawer with the letter, and put the coin into the bag with the other two. It did not have a family to call home anymore, so what better than to unite it with itsother family?

I left the room and closed the door behind me. One more door left. After what I saw, I really hope I did not find their bodies behind the door. This place looked way too orderly for them to have just vacated it. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and opened it. I opened one eye and then breathed in relief. It was empty just like the other ones. While the other two were bedrooms, this one was more like an office. Handing on the wall was a map of the City of Zootopia. There were posters of the gazelle, each of them having some kind of motivational message. Try everything, Harmony Between Predator and Prey, and Zootopia, Where Anyone Can Be Anything! Sitting on the desk was a picture of the gazelle signed, Gazelle. So the gazelle's name was Gazelle. Kinda odd being named after your own species, but at least it's not hard to forget. He must have been a fan. Next to it was a picture of him standing next to a rather rotund cheetah. Both of them were wearing the same white shirt that featured a large red heart above the word Gazelle. Guess they were both fans.

Next to the desk the ram's police uniform was hanging neatly, like a museum piece. On the wall were plaques commemorating Officer Stocktram. He must have been a really good officer. This world needs animals like him. There was nothing else that stuck out up here, except for something sticking out from under the bed. I bent down and saw that there was a very large black case. I slowly pulled it out and wiped off the dust. Inside was some more ammo that I did not recognize and the disassembled parts of what looked like a very large gun. I pulled up some files on my Pip-Boar and was able to identify it. It was a Ramington M-24 police issued sniper rifle. Thankfully the file also told me how to assemble it. I was very curious as to what it looked like put together. Thankfully it was easy enough, like re-building a stripped down micro-pump, only without the excessive rust. Once it was assembled I could tell it was not meant for someone as small as me. From the barrel to the stock, it was almost twice my height. There was no way that I could use this, let alone carry it. Even disassembled the case for it was huge. I decided to strip it down again, saving any parts that could be potentially useful.

"Hey Onion!"

I think I was starting to worry him again, because at the sound of his name he came rushing upstairs. "Is everything ok Miss?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. This place doesn't look as bad as you made it sound to be. I think I am going to try to rest here. Do me a favor and keep an eye out on this place. If you detect anything inside or outside, you are to come and wake me instantly. Do not call out or use a communication channel, come and get me personally, just in case."

"Yes Miss. What do you have there?"

"It's some kind of rifle, it's way too heavy for me to use, but I may find use for some of the parts. After I tinker around with this I am going to try to get some sleep. It has been a very long day, so I doubt I will have any trouble falling asleep. First thing in the morning we set out towards Hope."

"Yes Miss. Sleep well."