Chapter Text
The world is much different now. Before there were forests that stretched on for miles, countless shades of green in the world. Trees, grasses, ferns, flowers. When it rained there was always the smell of petrichor. The sight of dew on leaves, snails crawling up walls and traversing through gardens. Grand cities bustling with activity, predators and prey living under the same roof, going to the same workspaces together. Shops full of food and trinkets, free for anyone to buy. Mammals lived worrying about what next to eat, what next to wear, what film to see with their friends next.
The world is much different now. Now there are only dead trees. Stalks of dead wood, like the bones of the world reaching up to the bleak, grey sky. The dirt, once full of nutrient and richness dried up. Few patches of ground now farmable. The once grand cities were now abandoned, the only activity coming from the dangerous wildlife and the brave scavengers that dare to travel into the ruins. Now mammals lived in small walled off towns, worrying about how many bullets they had left, where their next meal would come from, and if their friends really were friends. The green had gone away, and most of civilization with it. What remained was as bleak as the sky, a hopeless shade of grey.
Finally free. The last debt paid. A small smile crept up on Nick, it was a strange feeling. Strangely liberating, knowing that there wasn’t anyone coming after him for reasons of money. His coin pouch felt much lighter, but he knew that it was for a good reason. He walked through the crowded station turned into a town. This region, the Metro, was a popular place for settlements. The tunnel stations often became small encampments, with the tunnels in between populated by even smaller trading posts, armed outposts, or bandit camps. The tunnels and stations were easily defendable, there were only a few avenues of attack, usually with little cover. The region was also vast, spanning a huge amount of ground. One tunnel even went to the railroad that leads to the Zootopian Zone, the remains of the grand city of Zootopia. But very rarely did people ever go through that tunnel, the Bunny Burrow Rail. Nick heard stories, about how the land above the tunnel was a wasteland that nobody could pass, and that the path underground was less of a tunnel and more of a series of deadly tests that only the best could pass. Only stories though, Nick had no interest in going anywhere near that place.
There was a greater amount of prey in the Metro, the few routes of attack made it easier for them to fend off attackers. The confined spaces of the air ducts, small maintenance tunnels, and unmapped secret passages made it no challenge for them to evade when they needed to evade, and strike when they needed to strike. Nick turned a corner and gazed upon where he would sleep next. The Grand Pangolin Arms, a bar and inn made of wood and cheap metal. It was sort of… right, Nick always thought to himself. Before The Fall, predators and prey lived in relative harmony- is what he heard. Here in the Metro towns, the centers of trade, where progress towards a better future was very slowly made, where the last remnants of culture before the fall remained, predators and prey lived in relative harmony. This place, and a few of the surrounding surface settlements were the shining beacons of civilization in this broken world.
Lost in thought, he bumped into someone while walking towards the inn. He heard a thud and glanced down seeing a smaller rabbit, and a few fallen books.
“Sorry, sorry.” Nick apologized. He crouched down and gathered the various small books and journals, “I should have been paying attention,” he admitted, glancing around. At least five other rabbits, sitting at the bar were looking at them. He saw rifles on their backs, and one glance to the others. Nick noted a paw slowly creeping up on a knife that was resting on the table. He knew not to bully one rabbit, because ten more would jump out of the woodworks to defend their own. The fallen rabbit picked herself back up, “No, I should have,” she spoke, taking the stack of books from Nick’s hands, “Thanks.” she smiled at him.
Nick gave a small smile back, careful not to show any teeth. As she walked off, Nick glanced back at the rabbits at the bar. They went back to their conversations and drinks. That was good, that meant he wasn’t going to be jumped later. He moved to the bartender. “One room, one night please.” He placed the pay on the bar. The elderly Armadillo counted the coin.
“Room 4. Don’t lose the key,” she warned, holding out the brass key.
Nick nodded and took it.
Inside the room, Nick closed his eyes. The sound of clattering plates, chatter, laughter and footsteps became distant. For the first time in what felt like years, he could relax. He shifted his body to get as comfortable as he could, the springs on the bed were infinitely better than the floor, or wood; even concrete. He felt a modicum of safety for a moment. He opened his eyes, only to see the dirty ceiling above, for some reason he hoped that he would see the blue sky. Dotted with white clouds, feeling the warmth of the yellow sun. The tired fox let his heavy eyes close with a sigh, sleep taking him.
He was awakened by the sound of someone small pounding on his door.
“Nick!” A familiar voice came from the other side. The fox groaned and rubbed his eyes, taking his time getting out of the bed. The loud knocking continued. Nick opened the door and looked down, seeing a fennec fox.
“Finnick, did you get your old pal some breakfast? Room service here is terrible.”
“No.” The fennec stated plainly, he walked in and closed the door behind him, jumping up onto the chair, “Look at this,” he took off his rucksack and pulled out a folder.
Nick rose an eyebrow at it, taking off his thick brown coat, revealing his shoulder holster and a dress shirt underneath. He took it. “This is an awfully well made folder…” He thought out loud, opening it. His eyes widened, this was no document made anytime recently. This was a document from before The Fall. About some sort of device, much of the text was blacked out. This was a classified folder. He had no idea what he was looking at. “How-”
“Can’t tell you.” Finnick interrupted. This was serious.
“Any leads at least?”
“Hidden Burrows.”
Nick closed the folder. Hidden Burrows was a surface settlement to the south, focused on farming. Farming what, the fox didn’t know. “I’ll take it.”
“Good. You’re the only person for it.” Finnick replied, “The rest are spineless cowards.”
Nick chuckled a little. “Thanks, I guess.”
Finnick leapt off the chair, “Come back alive, I want to know where that leads.”
Nick opened the door for him, and closed it after he left.
The fox grabbed his rucksack and put it on the bed, carefully placing the documents into it. He took out a box of ammo and placed it on the desk of the room. He also unholstered his trusty revolver, placing it next to his box of ammo. He began to fill his bandolier with bullets, and the various pouches on his belt. There were a couple of ways to get to Hidden Burrows.
The first involved money, something Nick was in short supply of. Taking a handcar to the station closest to Hidden Burrows, then walking the rest of the way, which wasn’t a long distance at all. Likely the safer path.
Next involved travelling through the tunnels on foot, taking the same route. It would take much longer, and likely be more dangerous, but would have little to no cost in terms of money.
The last was travelling on foot straight to Hidden Burrows on the surface. The most dangerous, most direct route. It would be faster than walking through the tunnels, and Nick wouldn’t have to pay anyone.