Bless My Homeland

**"Bless My Homeland"** is the twenty-third episode of *War* and the 72nd episode overall. It is the first in the two-part season finale, followed by "Until I Die."

The episode was published in two installments on May 30 and June 6, 2021. It is the only episode released on separate dates.

In the episode, over a thousand people from the Granite Bloc traverse through enemy territory toward the Vulpus Dam, where they mount a daring escape.

## Appendix

Episode Title Card**A:** Map of the War, 725**B:** Timeline of the War, 722-725**C:** Vulpus Dam - Aerial**D:** Vulpus Dam - Profile**E:** Bell-Mouth Spillway, Vulpus Dam
## Promotion

On May 23, 2021, after the publication of "The Good Must Associate," a finale trailer was released. The video is to the right. Similar to the season's trailer, images of Cartonia are shown, including the Vulpus Dam and Highland Castle. Several of the featured videos are recycled from the first trailer. Very few title cards are utilized. The music is "Stay, I Pray You" from the musical *Anastasia.* Its lyrics inspired the episode titles.

## The Episode

### Part One

*—Diary of Lana Loudoun—*

*-November 3, 725-*

*At dawn, we were awoken by a knock at the door. A Highland Castle servant said “Good morning, grab your suitcases, enjoy breakfast in the main hall, and check in at the courtyard by eight.” Then, he moved on to the next room and repeated his wake-up rounds. Mom, Nicholas, and I brought our cases to the main hall of this gorgeous castle, and helped ourselves to the hot breakfast prepared by palace staff. It might be the last good meal we have in a while.*

*Highland Castle’s beauty does not cease to astound me. The architecture automatically provides an unescapable awe. And the scenery…waking up to the sunrise over West Terrier is incredibly inspiring. Despite everything, the sun still rises. Day still follows night, and wherever I may be—Porcinia, Canis, or someplace else—I’m still here. I am alive.*

*All the passengers ate with their families, and in silence. No one was mingling this morning, as we’ve been doing over the past week. Mom doesn’t talk to anybody, and she won’t let me read the newspapers anymore, though I don’t know why. I think she’s just trying to shield me from the horrors in Porcinia, and the imminent collapse of Canis itself. The war might be over this month, and with any luck we won’t be here to see it.*

*After we finished our breakfast, Mom led us to the courtyard. There, palace staff were holding rosters of the passengers and we had to check in with them. We were all listed together on the Porcinian page. The kind dog helping us checked off our names and told us to board one of the carriages waiting by the gate of the courtyard. It was made of silver, one of the royal coaches. A footman loaded our bags into the back and helped each of us inside. There were nine others in there, pensively staring out the windows. Once inside and seated on the velvet interiors, the footman shut the door and gave the go-ahead.*

*The carriage clattered across the cobblestone courtyard of historic Highland Castle, and then passed through the gate. I turned around to watch the castle slip away behind us. The carriage rattled down the mountainside, and I kept twisting my head to see the spiraling towers of Highland Castle sink from my vision. I wish I could have spent more time here. I wish I was here under other circumstances. Nicholas squeezed my trotter when I inadvertently sighed, and I felt comforted. Mom is still really quiet, ever since we left O Camp.*

*It took less than a half hour to reach the train station in West Terrier. When we left Porcinia, we arrived to the Castle at night and I wasn’t able to see the capital properly. It’s beautiful! The snow makes it feel like Christmas all the time. There were evergreen trees sprouting off every street corner, and garlands draped around shop doors. Are we really leaving all of this behind?*

*We are taking one very long train out of Canis. It was idle on the tracks at the station. Armies surrounded the place, presumably to ensure only registered passengers got aboard. We’ve been told this is a secret so that no one rushes the expedition and blows our cover. I cannot fathom why we’ve been chosen to go. How are we special? The only other person from O Camp going south is Sergeant O. Maybe she was selected for high merit and put in a good word for us?*

*I’m writing this from the train. Our luggage was put in the front car, and we’re seated with all the other pigs. Sergeant O hasn’t boarded yet. We still have an hour before departure. All the windows are painted black, so we cannot see out. There is a water station in the back of the car, and a tray of snacks. Each of us were given a pamphlet by the conductor with more information about our route. It doesn’t tell us where we’re going specifically, but there’s a timetable for expected stops and the final destination. We must keep our pamphlet close so they can all be burned when we reach the end of the train ride. There are also crosswords, games, puzzles, and riddles to keep us occupied. I’m glad I got my diary out of my bag before we dropped them in the cargo car.*

*Here’s Sergeant O. I’ll write later.*

*—*West Terrier Train Station, Canis—

Thumper Connelly joined Bentley and Evangelina to see the party off. They waited in the main hall of Highland Castle until after all the passengers were accounted for and safely in their carriages into the city. Bentley summoned the royal coach, and the three Connellys boarded. They were also joined by Bentley’s valet, Hamish McRory. The journey down the mountain was quiet. Each of them was engrossed in his or her thoughts.

Today was the day. It had come at last. The passengers would be heading south to a new life. Bentley and Thumper would not know the outcome for at least a week, unless the expedition was completed quicker than expected.

The night before, Thumper said all of his goodbyes to his friends. The farewell to Jacquetta Lazoy was the hardest. She had become one of his closest confidantes after he came out as gay to her. The two had forged a deep friendship in that moment. It would be so strange to continue on in Highland Castle without her presence. It was going to be bizarre in any regard, since so many royals-in-exile and other refugees of war had taken residence in the Castle since the war began. How quiet it would be now…

The war advisors told Bentley last night that Canis did not have much longer. The foxes had launched a terrible and destructive invasion that overwhelmed the beleaguered dogs at the defenses. Porcinia and Canis both had days left. The fall of Canis was occurring much quicker than anyone anticipated. The Vixen Queen was making this battle personal. She and Bentley were always the two major heads of the war.

When they reached the train station, all the passengers had arrived, checked in, and were in the process of boarding. Bentley exited the coach first, and reached out to Evangelina to hand him his crown. Once it was snugly on his head, he walked toward the train to say a final goodbye to the passengers. Thumper, Evangelina, and Hamish followed.

The conductors informed them that all passengers had boarded, and they were ready for departure. Bentley thanked them for keeping the mission secret. After instructing Hamish to wait for them on the platform, Bentley entered the first car. This was the Bovish car. Bentley and Thumper shook hands with many of the passengers and wished them luck. Evangelina did the same behind them.

Through each car they went, bidding goodbye to the brave individuals embarking on this continental journey. They spent the longest time in the Canisian car, as they knew almost everybody within.

“Please come with us,” a woman said to Bentley, gripping his paw.

“I’ll be with you in spirit,” Bentley responded diplomatically.

“We’ll send you every positive thought we have,” Thumper assured.

In the Felexan car, Thumper gave Jacquetta one final hug. Then, they passed into the locomotive at the head of the train. The conductor was one of the most senior of the railway, and therefore selected as a passenger to help ferry the group out of Canis. His family was back in the Canisian car.

“Well, Percy,” Bentley said to the conductor, “I’m afraid I don’t know what to say.”

“Goodbye will suffice,” Percy replied with a smile. “You need not expend energy on me. This day is hard enough for you.”

“It is,” Bentley agreed. Evangelina looked up suddenly.

“Uncle, your crown is gone!”

Bentley’s paw flew to his head. Indeed, the royal crown was no longer there. Thumper looked around the locomotive, but it wasn’t to be seen. Bentley hung his head.

“Oh my…I let one of the Simenese children wear it for a second. I need to stop doing that. I’ll be right back.”

Thumper laughed and rolled his eyes.

“He does do that.”

Bentley exited the locomotive back into the Felexan car, and Percy engaged the prince in conversation about the war. Thumper grimly agreed to the deteriorating state of the Granite Bloc.

“It’s almost time to go,” Percy stated as he checked his watch. “I’ll go start the engine.”

The locomotive was two-stories high. There was a spiral staircase in the corner that the conductor climbed. He had to open a trapdoor to get up there, and it slapped shut behind him. Evangelina leaned against the control panel and stared out the window. The tracks ahead of them would lead the train southwest toward Capricon.

“Percy!” Thumper called up the staircase. “Evangie and I have to disembark. We’ll meet Bentley on the platform and see you off!”

The conductor did not reply, but he probably couldn’t hear through the trapdoor. The train engine started up, a soft rumble. Thumper went to the locomotive door and pulled on the handle, but it was locked.

“I can’t open it,” Thumper commented to his daughter, who did not reply.

“Percy!” Thumper called. “The door won’t open! Do I need a key?”

No response. Thumper tried to climb the stairs, but the trapdoor wouldn’t budge either. Next he went to the window and leaned out to ask one of the platform attendants for help.

Bentley was standing beneath the window, the crown on his head.

“Benny,” Thumper sighed with relief, “we can’t get out of the locomotive. Can you ask one of the conductors for assistance?”

Bentley silently shook his head. His jaw was trembling. Thumper stared at him. What was going on?

“I’m sorry, Thumper,” Bentley muttered. “I knew you’d protest. You’re going. You’re joining them on the expedition south.”

Thumper’s eyes narrowed.

“What? No I’m not. I told you, I’m staying with you. Live or die, we’re in this together. Evangelina is in here too. Can you—?”

“I asked Evangelina to help me,” Bentley stated, swallowing hard. “I didn’t lose my crown. Percy locked the door. Everyone has their orders. Your luggage is in the cargo car. You’re going with them. You’re one of the passengers.”

Thumper’s jaw dropped. He whirled around to look at Evangelina. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she averted her gaze.

“Benny!” Thumper shouted. “Please! I don’t want to go! I want to be here with you! This—“

“This is your only hope of survival,” Bentley finished. “If you stay here, you will die. There’s no hope for the Granite Bloc anymore. We will lose this war, and I cannot watch you and Evangelina die at the Vixen Queen’s hands.”

Thumper shook his head in protest.

“Benny…this mission is not likely to succeed. You’ve said so yourself!”

“I know,” Bentley murmured. “I know, but I have no choice. We must preserve the Connelly dynasty, and you’re all we have left.”

“Bullshit!” Thumper yelled. “You’ve never cared about that! You even—“

“Please,” Bentley begged, “don’t let our last encounter be an argument.”

Thumper’s mouth clapped shut. The realization hit him like a bullet. This was it. This was the last time he would see his brother. Involuntary tears rushed to his eyes.

“Benny…”

The engine roared to life, shaking the locomotive. Steam burst from the smokestack. Thumper yelped, the reality becoming more potent.

“Benny! Please! I will *never* see you again!”

“I know,” Bentley gasped.

The train jolted, and began to move forward. Thumper seized the windowsill and cried out. Evangelina ran up behind him and supported his body before his knees buckled.

“Bentley!”

“Thumper, I’m sorry! I promised I would never let you go, but I must now break that vow and live with the consequences so that you may survive.”

“Benny, I don’t want to leave you!”

“Thumper,” Bentley panted, hurrying alongside the train as it picked up speed, “this is what’s best for you and Evangelina. You may find freedom, and liberation. Go south, go with them, and *be yourself* in this new world. Find love. Live the life you want to live, and love the person you want to love.”

Thumper outstretched his paw, fighting through his sobs.

“Benny!”

“Please, Thumper! Go!”

Thumper wiped his nose.

“What do you want me to say?”

Benny tossed the crown from his head. It rolled behind him. They were almost at the end of the platform.

“What else is there? I love you, Thumper.”

“Benny, why—“

“Thumper! Please say it! For me.”

Seconds left. Thumper reached down, out of the window, so Bentley could grab his paw one last time.

“I love you, Benny,” Thumper managed.

Bentley let go, and stopped at the very edge of the train station platform. The train shot out of West Terrier. The locomotive rounded the corner, and Bentley faded from view. Thumper cried out in anguish, and sunk to the floor. Evangelina buried her face in his neck and wept with him.

They remained in this position of sorrow until they were miles away from the capital, and Percy came down from the upstairs control deck and wordlessly unlocked the locomotive door.

—The Canisian Border—

In the afternoon, the train reached the southwest Capricanis station, so-named for its close proximity to Capricon. It was the last stop before crossing the border. Nowadays, the border was patrolled by Granite Bloc enemies. Stealth would have to begin.

Minerva Taylor coordinated the transition from train to truck, their next mode of transport. The train was only meant to take them out of West Terrier. Dozens of armored military trucks would carry them from here to Vulpus. Tonight at nightfall, with their cats disguised as foxes, they would cross into enemy territory.

The passengers were quiet during the disembarking of the train. They filed out of the train station and into an open valley, where all the trucks were parked. The journey on the train was easy, without issue, as expected. This was by far the simplest stage of their expedition south. Everything from here on out would be an uphill battle. Minerva clung to the hope that everything would go as smoothly as things had so far. Whenever doubts crossed her mind about the plausibility of them making it to the Dam undetected, she reminded herself that Trent Mallon and his team managed to cross Phantine twice with royals in their charge.

The trucks were ready to depart by the evening, but the plan held to wait until nightfall. Dinner was rationed prepackaged meals, one per person. Children under 10 got a smaller portion. There were six passengers that were under five, and only one infant. Minerva picked up her meal from her designated truck, and found Max eating alone on a boulder in the middle of the vast green field. Lionel was with his family.

“Mind if I join you?” Minerva asked, sitting without hearing his answer. She noticed he hadn’t actually eaten anything. His meal was still in the plastic. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Max muttered. His eyes were gazing at the glens, and she could sense he was sad.

“Do you want to be left alone?”

Max shook his head. He pulled his knees to his chest and sighed.

“I’m just saying one last farewell. To Canis.”

Minerva followed his stare to the rolling hills of his birthplace. The Kingdom of Canis, one of the mightiest Kingdoms of Cartonia. The last peaceful nation to wear the Harmony Crown, and the vanguard of the Granite Bloc. Max had served as Royal Historian for the Connelly family for nearly three decades, since he was a young undersecretary to the last Royal Historian. Max’s tenure had seen a Harmonious Reign, two Kings, a succession crisis, the outbreak of war, a plague, the invasion of his country, and now its downfall. Max was a patriot and fervently loved his nation. To see it slip away must be heartbreaking.

Of course, Minerva understood this. She herself had fled Willie in 712 when the tide of war turned against the Granite Bloc. The only difference was that Minerva had always expected to return. She thought Willie’s collapse was temporary, and soon she’d find herself back in Musenzollern Castle. That notion eroded over the years, and now she was unlikely to see Cartonia again, much less Willie.

“Canis and Willie will live on within us,” Minerva said. “They can conquer us, destroy us, divide us, kill us, but they cannot wholly erase us.”

Max nodded. She swore she saw him wipe away a tear. Stoic Max, finally moved.

“I’ll never stop being a Canisian,” he stated with pride. “I will never stop thinking about Canis. I’ll keep her flame alive. I will bless my homeland forever.”

Minerva smiled, and put her arm around her friend.

“Lest we forget.”

—Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis—

Bentley wandered from room to room of his home, progressively becoming more depressed with each step. Every space in this castle had a memory attached to it. Almost all those memories involved Thumper and Evangelina.

They were raised here together, the two Connelly princes. Beloved, young, vivacious Canis boys. He had always thought his life was intertwined with Thumper’s. They would never be far from each other, they would support each other. Bentley was destined to take the throne, and Thumper resolved to stand by his side through it all.

Now, Thumper was gone. Bentley would never see him again. His own life’s expiration date was fast-approaching. West Terrier was going to succumb to the foxes within the next few weeks. Bentley’s head had the highest price of all the Granite Bloc leaders. The Vixen Queen, however, would be shocked to find Highland Castle empty. Where had the other monarchs gone? All those that had fled into exile?

Bentley would never tell. He hoped beyond hope that his expedition would succeed. If Thumper got out of Cartonia with Evangelina, then the suffering of this war and the anguish of this afternoon would be worth it.

The King of Canis found himself on the stairs to Thumper’s bedroom, as if an involuntary force was leading him there. The door was ajar, all of his favorite belongings deftly packed by Evangelina and stowed on the train early this morning. But when Bentley walked inside, expecting it to be empty, he found it was not.

“Hey,” Victoria greeted, floating above the mattress. “I’ve never been in here before.”

Bentley gestured around.

“Well?”

“I like your chambers better.”

“How kind,” Bentley chided. He lowered himself into one of the armchairs by the window. Victoria glided over and occupied the other.

“Where is everybody?” Victoria asked. “The palace is so quiet.”

“The expedition…”

“No, I know,” Victoria interrupted. “But the staff is gone too. The whole city has gone silent.”

“Oh,” Bentley muttered, “I’ve issued an evacuation order of the city. The foxes will want the entirety of West Terrier razed. The people have a better chance of survival if they’re not in the city when that happens.”

“I see,” Victoria replied. “There’ll be no last stand then?”

“No,” Bentley deadpanned. “I have no last stand to make. Highland Castle is a symbol of the Granite Bloc, and therefore a beacon of goodness. If I let it fall siege, that symbol will be destroyed. I’ve told palace guards to open the gates if the foxes approach. I will face them head-on.”

Victoria inclined her head.

“Then you’ll surrender?”

Bentley smirked.

“I never said that.”

“Ah,” Victoria mused, “that’s my Benny. Unbreakable.”

Bentley took a moment to admire her beauty, frozen in time. She was still twenty-years-old, the age of her death. Meanwhile, he continued to advance in years and was now 42. While his fur blanched and fell out due to stress, Victoria’s remained brown and youthful. Her destiny was to avoid this war, and yet spark it with her death.

*The martyr who dug a thousand trenches*.

“Thank you,” Bentley expressed, “for standing by me through this strife.”

Victoria reached out, her transparent paw caressing his face. Bentley knew it wasn’t really there, but he felt it all the same. Her fur bristled against his.

“Of course, my love. There will never be a time I won’t be with you.”

Bentley closed his eyes.

“I know my death is coming for me. I’ll see you soon.”

Victoria pulled her paw back and drifted away.

“I’ll be waiting, arms wide.”

—Former Capricon, Kingdom of Vulpus—

—November 4, 725—

-1 Day Later-

The trucks traveled in a straight line through the countryside of western Capricon. The former homeland of the goats was now occupied by the foxes, but development appeared slow. Capricon, already the least densely populated nation, was known for its uniquely uninhabitable terrain. A string of negligible Capricovian Kings enacted harsh deforestation programs to build up the existing cities, at great cost. Not even the Vixen Queen could transform the badlands of Capricon. Or at least, not yet.

This worked to the passengers’ favor, as the roads were not patrolled. The first day of the journey beyond Canis was quiet. Lana Loudoun spent the entire day playing verbal games with Nicholas and Mom, and trying not to think about what would happen if they were caught.

Each truck was driven by a team of three cats in fox disguises. There were between forty and fifty passengers in the bed of the truck, which was covered on the side and tops in military camouflage common among all nations. The vehicles were nondescript, and hopefully enough to fool the foxes. A trunk of food and water was in the carriage between the front and back of the truck, so that anyone could access it. A dozen trucks at the rear of the convoy were specifically designated to cargo and supplies. The trucks only stopped a few times to allow passengers to relieve themselves outdoors.

For some, this was a particularly degrading task. Some passengers ran in royal circles and had never been forced to urinate in the grass. Lana just turned away and did what she had to.

After dinner, the trucks continued through Capricon. They would park at the next suitable place, as war vehicles rarely traveled overnight. They must not draw attention to themselves.

“I wonder why we were chosen for this,” Lana muttered, mostly to herself, as she peered through a flap over the window. She couldn’t see anything except the side of the road and the sandy spires jutting up from the grasslands.

“What was that?” Nicholas asked, petting her trotter gently.

“Nothing,” Lana returned. She told herself to stop questioning her blessings, and instead be grateful for them. If not for this mission, she would be dead in O Camp.

A whistle blew from the front of the convoy, ever so quiet, and the truck slowed down. The cats opened the hatch separating the front of the truck from the back and shouted,

“Foxes! Stay still, stay down.”

Lana, Nicholas, and Mom got off the bench and huddled on the floor of the truck. One of the others checked the latch to make sure it was locked.

The truck did not stop moving, and after about fifteen minutes, they were resuming their usual speed. One of the cats stuck her head in the back.

“Just teenaged foxes having a night out. No threat. We should be stopping soon.”

Lana relaxed, thankful there was no issue. “Soon” ended up meaning an hour. When Lana got out of the truck, she was relieved to stretch her legs. The passengers were given a half hour to walk around and converse before being confined to the trucks to sleep for the night. Sleeping was the worst part of this arrangement, as it had to be conducted in the seated position. There was not enough space for everyone to lie down, and they couldn’t risk over 1,200 people lying out in the open.

As Lana paced around the truck to get her blood flowing, she noticed Maximilian Walters approaching them. He looked grave, and was carrying a sheet of paper.

“Where’s your mother?” he asked, walking directly toward her.

“Over there,” Lana replied, pointing. Max took a step in that direction, but paused.

“Come with me.”

Max was already heading toward Mom, and Lana hurried to keep up with him. His grip on that paper was alarming; it was basically fully crumpled. When they reached Mom, she greeted Max with a casual hello. With the same serious disposition, Max asked the Loudouns to move away from the trucks and all the people. Mom and Lana glanced at each other, shrugged, and agreed. They waded through the tall dead grass of the Capricovian badlands until they were a decent distance away. They would certainly not be overheard.

“Porcinia has surrendered,” Max lamented with a sad sigh. “King Bacon and his family have been executed. I’m sorry.”

Lana felt as if she had been sucker-punched. Yes, the fall of Porcinia was unavoidable, but to hear it said aloud, and to know her home was under total enemy occupation…

And the poor King! Regicide was as common as the breeze now. The Summer Sun was hell bent on destroying any threat to their power, and all royals must go. Hence the expedition and the many royals fleeing persecution.

“Max…” Mom muttered, shaking her head at him in…disappointment? Reprimand? What was that face for? It was the one Lana always got when she messed up as a child.

“Diana,” Max deadpanned in reply, “I can no longer keep your secret. This entire expedition will soon know.”

Lana was unsure what he was referring to, but she would. Max passed the Loudouns the paper he was carrying.

*Summer Sun Edict #89*

*November 4, 725*

*The Document of Unconditional Surrender has been signed by King Bacon IV, thus ending the war in Porcinia. Macaw Lucia of Psittancyna and Queen Vixen VII were present to administer the instrument of Porcinian surrender. The ceasefire takes place immediately. The territory formerly known as Porcinia will be divided between the Kingdom of Vulpus and the Macawdom of Psittancyna, and all citizens of Porcinia will become citizens of Psittancyna and Vulpus. The monarchy of Porcinia has been terminated. For the crime of war against the Summer Sun, King Bacon IV has faced justified execution. Queen Roseanna and Boar Bacon “Bake” Hamleigh were tried and found guilty of war crimes, and were similarly executed. The rest of the royal family is guilty by association, and all Hamleighs will face trial.*

*In a last-ditch effort to prevent the downfall of his dynasty, Bacon Hamleigh changed the line of succession to remove his direct heirs and siblings from the throne. The crown is now to pass to the daughter of the late Prince Hammer Hamleigh, son of King Bacon II. Her name is Diana Loudoun, a distant relative of the King. Diana Loudoun, last known to be an occupant of the temporary resettlement facility known as O Camp, will be tracked down, and she and her daughter will be analyzed for their role in the war. If necessary, these two will also be executed.*

*Should anyone in Porcinia or elsewhere have any information pertaining to the whereabouts of Diana Loudoun or Lana Loudoun, please contact the Vulpus War Crimes Office (information below).*

*Signed,*

*Queen Vixen VII*

*Macaw Lucia*

*Stag Barrow*

*Chequer Vincent*

Finished, Lana just looked up.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled. “Mom isn’t a Hamleigh.”

Max raised an eyebrow. Mom was silent, and so Max spoke for her.

“She is. As are you. Your mother was bumped to the top of the succession in an effort to save both her and the monarchy of Porcinia. That is why we were asked to rescue you from O Camp and take you south. It was King Bacon’s final wish. With the King’s death, with or without an investiture, Diana is now heir to the defunct throne of Porcinia.”

Lana’s mouth was agape. This couldn’t be true. Why would Mom keep something like this from her? It wasn’t like her to hide anything from Lana, and certainly not groundbreaking, life-changing information. Her family history was supposedly straightforward in that there were hardly any other family members. Both of Mom’s parents were dead, and she was an only child. Or at least, that’s what Mom told her.

“Where did this come from?” Lana asked Max instead, denying the document’s veracity. Mom was still quiet.

“The foxes we encountered on the road,” Max explained. “They were passing out the edicts to passersby. The fall of Porcinia leaves only three other Granite Bloc countries on the map: Canis, Simeone, and Ursus. The war is nearly won.”

Lana twisted toward Mom, who was staring blankly at the grass.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mom shuffled her feet and heaved a sigh. With that exhale seemed to go the burden of having hidden something like this for so long. At last, she looked her daughter straight in the eye.

“My family caused me a great deal of heartbreak. I did not want to subject you to any of that. Snakes, all of them. They were vicious, and they were cruel. They cast me out, and the former King—my uncle—banished me from Sowtown. I was ashamed, and I was angry. I raised you without a family, and found you were better off. It wasn’t until I began regularly communicating with King Bacon IV, my cousin, that I began to regain trust in the royal family. When they liberated us from O Camp, Max and his compatriots told me about the succession change, but I still chose to seclude you from this knowledge. I’m sorry for all the deception. Max, would you excuse us?”

Max obliged, leaving them with the edict alone in the tall grass. Lana examined her mother’s eyes, the same gaze as always, yet different. Suddenly, she was viewing her mother through a royal lens. The royals of Porcinia were distant, remote figures in Lana’s mind. They lived in palaces, untouchable and unattainable, high and mighty, teeming with power and devout with duty. King Bacon IV had restored a sense of stability to the monarchy, after the first Hamleigh king usurped control of the country from the former dynasty. Bacon had led Porcinia through the war, and Lana had the utmost respect for him. Could it really be true that she and him were related?

“Tell me everything,” Lana demanded of her mother. Mom nodded, and began her tale.

Diana Loudoun was the daughter of Hammer Hamleigh, who himself was the youngest son of King Bacon II. The second Hamleigh king was greatly concerned of a coup against his rule, as many still loyal to the last Porcinian dynasty still desired a return to that family’s rule. Bacon II established a strict code of ethics, morals, and policies for the royal family to follow and uphold to build a rigidly admired image for the royal family.

As it happened, there was no veritable threat to Hamleigh rule, and when Bacon II died in 666, the crown peacefully transferred to his eldest son, who became Bacon III. Nonetheless, the new king instilled the same expectation in his family. Marriages must be matched by the monarch, and all affairs of the royal family were to be approved or sanctioned by the monarch, who was head of the family. Diana was born in 669, and lived in Sowtown with her parents and her family. She grew up close with her cousins, among them the future Bacon IV. As the child of the youngest scion of Bacon II, there was zero chance that Diana would ever ascend to the throne, allowing her a greater deal of freedom in the capital. The only times she would have to seek the King’s approval for anything in her life would be the choice of university, choice of spouse, and names of royal children.

Then, in the fall of 685, when she was only sixteen, Diana became pregnant.

“By whom?” Lana interrupted. It was a question she had asked her mother many times before, especially when she was younger. Lana’s father was a question mark, and always had been. Mom would tell her he was a mistake, a one-time thing, someone from the capital who she now knew to be dead. His name was not Loudoun, that much Lana knew. Could there be something more to the story?

“Lana…”

“Mom!” Lana threw back at her. “Who was it? Why can’t you tell me? It’s been forty years!”

“Because,” Mom whimpered, “it’s painful.”

Lana shivered on impulse. She had always held inclinations that something bad had happened to her mother all those years ago, and it wasn’t the simple fling she made it out to be. Lana did not move, but maintained her sharp gaze on Mom.

“Tell me, please.”

Diana dropped her head, and continued.

In early 685, when she was only fifteen, Diana Loudoun began a relationship with one of the palace guards. The relationship ended in the summertime, though in the autumn Diana and the guard—who she refused to name—met up for one last time. She found out months later that she was sixteen years old and pregnant. The palace guard quickly resigned his post and faded away, never to be heard from again. Without the guard’s support, Diana told her father, Prince Hammer Hamleigh, of the pregnancy, and together they went to see a doctor about the option of a termination of the pregnancy. However, the doctor determined that Diana would put herself at a great health risk to go through with an abortion. Thus, Diana and her parents sought help from King Bacon III.

Unfortunately, Bacon decried Diana Hamleigh a whore, a degenerate, a foul waif and ill-fitting member of the royal family. He touted her as someone who did not align with the family’s strict code of ethics, and banished her from Sowtown. Her name was stricken from family records, and she was disowned, despite the protestations of her parents. Moreover, the family kept the entire matter quiet. Everyone was encouraged to turn their backs on her, and consider anything she spouted as lies. Diana was already an obscure, barely recognized face in the Hamleigh dynasty, and her absence raised no questions. Hammer organized her exile from the capital, and purchased a small home in Ripper, Porcinia. He always supported her and never forgave his brother for casting her out.

Lana was born in June of 686 in Ripper. Diana made the choice to adopt the surname Loudoun, after the very county in which they resided, for her newborn daughter. Diana’s name was shortly thereafter changed. Hammer made frequent visits to Ripper, and when Diana turned 18 he transferred the house to her name.

Despite Hammer’s agreement to stand by Diana in all matters regarding Lana’s birth, he never forgave his brother for turning his back on family. Hammer constantly barraged Bacon III and was himself frequently asked to leave court. In the late 680s, the King developed health issues and Bacon III died in 690, four years after Lana’s birth.

Hammer was heavyset and diabetic, and the stress of Diana’s exile debilitated his own health; he died in 692, the day before Lana’s sixth birthday. Hearing this story, and thinking back on her childhood, Lana could not remember Hammer. Hardly anyone visited their home in Ripper, even neighbors, and certainly not a member of the royal family. Mom insisted that Lana should remember, as Diana cried incessantly at Lana’s birthday dinner that year.

Immediately upon Bacon III’s death, and the ascension of Bacon IV to the throne, Diana received a telegram from Bacon IV, inviting her back to court, promising to undo the banishment order and allowing her to reunite with her estranged family. Diana categorically refused that offer, and all since. She had salvaged her life in Ripper, bolstered by the daughter she had.

By the conclusion of her story, Lana was mostly relieved. She had feared that her mother was hiding a tragic tale of rape, perhaps wrought with scandal. Though she would never learn her father’s name, she at least knew he was a palace guard. That was new information.

“Do I look like him at all?” Lana asked quietly. Diana smiled.

“I see me in you. People have always said we look similar. You are not his daughter. You are mine. And you always will be. I chose not to tell you because I didn’t want *you* to bear my pain, not the other way around. I have chosen to rise above it.”

“Thank you for telling me…your Highness.”

Mom cringed.

“Poor Bacon…he was such a good king. He was so good to me. He cared very much about the two of us. Obviously, since he rescued us from O Camp.”

She turned to look at the trucks resting in the field. “We’re here because of him. If we escape Cartonia, it is because of him. I will make sure his memory is preserved.”

They went back to the trucks together, mostly in silence. Lana was still digesting. By the light of a lantern, Lana wrote a diary entry of Porcinia’s surrender and the death of the King. She omitted everything else, including her royal heritage. She wasn’t going to put any weight in it. Mom may be heir (or Queen?) in name, but she would never see Porcinia again. Neither would Lana. They were never royals in any other regard except blood. That wasn’t going to change after Cartonia.

Lana would honor her mother’s desire to be ordinary, and allow that sentiment to carry her out of this war-torn country.

—

Evangelina Connelly approached her father, who ever since leaving Canis had been silent and heartbroken over his emotional farewell with King Bentley. He sobbed the entire journey on the train, and did not speak to her as they transferred into the truck.

When Bentley approached Evangelina the night before the passengers were due to depart, and asked her to help him get Thumper out, she was reluctant. Like Thumper, she had resigned herself to meeting her fate in West Terrier with her family. Bentley was insistent that his mind was made up, and that whether she helped or not, they would both be going south. Evangelina agreed to the deception, and secretly packed both of their suitcases that night as Thumper slept. She said her goodbyes quietly to the few friends she had left in the capital, and watched as Thumper realized what was going on as it was too late.

“Dad,” she said gently to Thumper, who was sitting on the edge of the truck bed, his head in his paws. “Dad, I was wondering if you can forgive me for deceiving you.”

He raised his head and wiped away the tears caked to this cheeks.

“Of course,” he mumbled. “It’s just very hard for me right now to imagine my life without my brother.”

Evangelina nodded.

“You’ll be alive, which is what he wanted.”

Dad scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“We won’t escape this. We’re doomed no matter what. What kind of life would I even find over the Dam? Without Bentley?”

Evangelina shrugged reassuringly.

“I think if we do manage to escape, it’ll be more freeing than you think.”

Thumper was unconvinced.

“If only.”

—The Capricon/Cervidium Border—

—November 6, 725—

-2 Days Later-

“It’s okay,” Trent Mallon said out of the side of his mouth to the two cats sitting with him at the front of the truck. “Relax.”

The two cats took a unified deep breath as the truck reached a halt at the checkpoint. This was the first major obstacle in four days. They had traversed the most remote roads of Capricon and had come now to the border of Cervidium, or what was formerly known as Felexa. It was a difficult moment for the cats in their fox costumes. For all of them, this was their first time back inside Felexa since fleeing. Trent could only imagine how difficult it was for the Lazoy royal family. Queen Roxanne, her mother Jacquetta, and her siblings must be terrified of what they’ll encounter in their old home.

“They’re deer,” one of the cats whispered harshly to Trent as Cervidian soldiers stepped out of their checkpoint hut, guns slung over their backs, and approached the first truck at the head of the convoy. In the side mirror, Trent saw all the other trucks stopping. Ahead of them, a simple wooden gate was lowered over the road. CERVIDIUM was painted on it in green letters.

“Good morning,” Trent said out the window to the two Cervidian soldiers. Before the expedition departed Canis, Trent and the organizers had run through a litany of scenarios that may involve speaking to foxes and deer. The agreed-upon strategy was not to let the other party dictate the conversation, and adapt accordingly.

“Papers,” the Cervidian soldier demanded. Trent reached over to the dashboard and grabbed the fabricated documents denoting them as supply chain vehicles. He passed them to the soldiers, who scanned them.

“How many trucks do you have total?”

“Fifty-two.”

“Cargo?”

“Yes.”

The two cats beside Trent were still silent, hoping their fox disguises were convincing. Trent needed not worry, as he could easily change his appearance using his affliction.

“Vulpus supply chain vehicles?” the larger of the two soldiers grumbled down at the paperwork. “You can’t pass through Cervidium to get to Vulpus anymore. The Summer Sun decree passed on November 1 prohibits it. Are you stupid? You’ll have to keep going west and hook around Cervidium, staying only in Vulpus territory.”

The deer threw the papers back into the window, and Trent jumped as they splattered over his face and fluttered around the cabin.

“Oh,” he tried to say innocently, wondering how the hell he was going to get all the trucks to turn around and try a new route without drawing more suspicion. At this point, they’d been seen by officials from both Vulpus and Cervidium. If too much chatter circulated about their long and unwieldy convoy, their cover may be blown. “We can’t pass through because we’re supply chain vehicles?”

“Because you’re *Vulpus* supply chain vehicles,” the larger soldier answered, readjusting the strap holding the gun over his shoulder. “Go west.”

Trent knew time was of the essence. They’d lose days going around Cervidium. He needed to give them a reason to let him through. Something that benefited Cervidium.

“But we’ve come from the front,” he moaned, “we have injured deer and foxes in these trucks that desperately need medical attention from accredited hospitals!”

The soldiers glanced at each other, then back at Trent.

“You do? There aren’t any medical emblems on your vehicles.”

“Yes, we have injured soldiers!” Trent repeated emphatically. “The battles up there…in Canis, I mean…they’re horrible. So…”

He feigned a demonstrative swallow of choked up nerves. “So bloody and terrible. I’ve never seen such carnage. The dogs are monsters. The medical ambulances have been completely overrun. That’s why they commissioned our supply chain vehicles. They’re clearing hospital space in Gorod for all these people.”

The deer glanced nervously at all the trucks.

“How many injured?”

Trent whistled, pretending to think.

“Couple hundred. Must be more. Please, I know the decree has been passed but we didn’t know! We were at the front!”

He held out his paw in the direction of the gate, face-up. The smaller soldier clucked his tongue.

“Fine. This once. Get our wounded the help they need.”

Trent and the other two cats passionately thanked the soldiers as they lifted the gate, though Trent did not fully exhale until the fifty-second truck passed through the checkpoint. They were in old Felexa, of the greater Cervidian kingdom. Heading south for Vulpus.

When they stopped the convoy for the night, Trent sought out Max, Minerva, and Lionel to tell them about the new decree, which would likely preclude them from entering Vulpus from Cervidium in a few days. Trent proposed an idea to circumvent this, and they approved his plan.

That night, as the deer of Cervidium slept, Trent and his crew snuck into nearby villages and broke into local hardware stores. They stole white and red paint, and drew medical emblems on their trucks.

From now on, they were a medical convoy.

—Kingdom of Cervidium—

—November 8, 725—

-2 Days Later-

Azure Oldman and his family occupied almost the entirety of one of the trucks. It made for a more comfortable journey than some of the others crowded among strangers, but Azure was finding it very hard to remain calm. They were miles inside enemy territory, deep within the belly of the beast, and only going deeper and further. It made him anxious, exacerbating his ability to control his snow.

They were in proper Cervidium now, having passed through old Felexa two days ago. Only deer lived in this area, though it appeared that the convoy was not threatened by anyone they passed. Either people didn’t know who they were, or noticed the newly-painted medical crosses and allowed them free passage. Azure was unsure how long they had until they reached the Dam, but he was not confident they would ever get there. He instead tried to tell himself that they would be caught and expect the worst, whilst hoping for the best.

“Oh!” Azure’s wife, Celeste, suddenly shouted, her eye pressed against the small slit in the metal surrounding the truck bed. “Oh no…”

Azure turned to look, but she grabbed his paw. “Don’t!” He ignored her plea and stole a glance anyway. Instantly, he understood why she had tried to protect him.

They were on a gravel country road, with no buildings or civilizations in sight. The road itself was lined with poles staked into the ground. The tops of the poles were straddled by a horizontal bar, essentially large capital Ts hammered into the dirt.

Hanging from either side of the T-shaped poles were people. Rabbits, cats, and chickens mostly. They were dead, of course, dangling from rope around their necks. Azure did not know how long they were dead, but it was long enough to distort their faces and cause insects to gnaw at the decaying corpses. Each body had a board hung around their neck, with ugly red writing scrawled on the front: BIOFREAK.

Azure was transfixed to this macabre scene, his horror and sadness preventing him from turning away from this sorry sight. Glancing up and down the road, and with confirmation from his mother that they were on the other side as well, Azure could not tell how many there were.

BioFreaks, hung on display for any passersby.

Feeling sick, Azure finally looked away, and felt Celeste gripping his arm in comfort and support.

“They’re monsters,” she whispered, referring to the deer. “They did this. They’re the monsters, not you.”

Azure nodded. His family members were watching him wearily. In the front cabin, the Felexan driver picked up the ringing carphone. After a few seconds, one of the other cats stuck their head in the back.

“Uh, sorry…the truck in front of us said there’s something that looks like snow above our truck? Are any of you throwing something out of the truck? Do we need to stop?”

Azure closed his eyes and reeled in the flurry he must have been creating.

“Sorry, lad,” Glaucous, Azure’s father, stated. “It’s under control. No need to stop the truck.”

“Thank you,” Azure muttered in his direction after the cats returned to the front. “Sorry.”

Glaucous waved a paw dismissively. Azure’s disgust turned to anger as he re-pictured the roadside killings. The deer had manufactured these individuals, Azure included, and then papered over their crimes by antagonizing their creatures. The public was terrified of BioFreaks, even though they were the same people as before, just with some supernatural power. Stag Barrow further demonized BioFreaks after Doe Deirdre immolated her husband, the late Stag Ellis.

There were a handful of BioFreaks on this expedition, including Trent Mallon and Sophie Riffick. While on the train, they had expressed their mutual shame at being converted into such creatures. It was a sad thing, that none of them could truly be happy with themselves after the conversion. Trent was easily the most proud, having found great use in his ability. Nonetheless, they didn’t want everyone on the trip to know about them, especially Azure and Sophie.

And if Azure could have his way, if they did escape Cartonia and live beyond the Dam, he would never tell anyone of his affliction, and never use his ability again.

—That Night—

After asking around, Diana Loudoun found Maximilian Walters by a small pond. He was filling up a pot to be boiled for drinking water. He was taking a while though, staring mostly at his reflection.

“Max?” she called, so as not to startle him. “I have a question for you.”

He rose and faced her, tucking the pot under his arm.

“Shoot.”

“I’ve been thinking, about how technically I am the Queen of Porcinia. *Technically*. I’ve noticed that the other royals on this trip have taken upon themselves roles to aid the expedition. I know that in order for this mission to be successful that some of us will need to take on additional responsibilities. I won’t ever use my status or title to aid me in our new lives beyond the Dam, but I would like to help now, if I can.”

Max raised his eyebrows.

“I didn’t hear a question…”

“Is there anything I can do to help? At the Dam, maybe? I can’t be a part of the storming party, as I’ll only slow them down. Maybe—“

“The control room team,” Max said suddenly, grinning at her. “They asked me this afternoon if there could be a fifth person to run messages down to the docking slip if the phones are either not there or malfunctioning. Can I entrust you with that?”

Diana returned the smile.

“Yes, I think you can.”

—Kingdom of Vulpus—

—November 9, 725—

-1 Day Later-

There was a shorter delay at the southern Cervidium/Vulpus border because of the medical emblems painted on the sides of the vehicles. For the first time in many decades, Amin Hotep found himself in Vulpus.

Travel here was unrestricted, as the fronts of the war were so far north. No battle had ever been fought on Vulpus soil. That was an advantage the foxes had maintained for the duration of the war.

It was almost a week since the party departed Canis, and Amin was stunned at how easily they had managed to reach Vulpus. Their deception was working, and predictions were that they would be at the Dam in two days. They were taking a direct highway route south, making sure to keep far from the capital. Even though the 52 trucks thundered down the highways, there were few cars and other vehicles, as the road was unused. According to several transportation experts who were passengers on this quest, this was one of the least-traveled roads in Vulpus owing to the fact that it went through no major civilizations and had few exits. Some called it the Quiet Road.

“This is infuriating,” Farress Nilia, Amin’s mother, scowled. She was looking out the window. Her scaly claws gripped her water bottle. “There’re no battles. No camps. No trenches…this place is completely untouched by war.”

She withdrew her head and shook it in Amin’s direction. “I saw a roadsign for Vista. I desire so much to jump out now and race for the capital. I’ll slit the Vixen Queen’s throat myself.”

She slashed at the air dramatically. Amin searched her face behind her lace veil.

“Relax,” he assuaged. “She’ll get hers in the end.”

Nilia crossed her arms and growled.

“I’d love to see that.”

—*Diary of Lana Loudoun—*

*—November 10, 725—*

*We crossed the First Vista River this afternoon and spent the remainder of our day traveling along backroads toward the Vulpus Dam. We twice passed under a series of electronic checkpoints, and our drivers cautioned that we have no electronic passes. Therefore, we are on a time crunch to reach the Dam as quickly as possible so that we do not face the consequences of not having registration. Minerva spread a message as we camped tonight that the Vulpus Transportation Administration Board is notorious for being slow to fine its citizens on traffic violations. With luck, we won’t be discovered until we are long gone.*

*Tomorrow morning, we will arrive at the Vulpus Dam, thus concluding the second phase of our mission. I am amazed we have made it this far. The deeper we go into Vulpus, the more violent a death I predict for myself if we are caught. Nicholas, Mom, and I are mentally preparing for what lies in store for us tomorrow at the Dam. She is part of the control room team, which will regulate the water levels inside the dam basin to facilitate our escape.*

*I am not as worried as I thought I would be. On the contrary, I think I am excited!*

—Rook of Vulpus, Vista, Vulpus—

West Terrier was surrounded, and would soon have no choice but to surrender. King Bentley II was still hidden away in Highland Castle, but had days earlier ordered an evacuation of the capital. It was a smart move, Matthew Palmer thought, as it may have saved many lives.

Upon his return to Vista, Matthew had been placed in charge of strategy and the coordination of maximizing the supply chains on the final push into Canis. Over the last few months, Matthew had kept his ear to the ground, per his mother’s request, for anything about an escape through Vulpus. Mom said she had not heard again from Jacquetta Lazoy, who was also known to be in West Terrier. The Vixen Queen had it on good intelligence that a cache of royals were all cowering in Highland Castle, but Matthew was wondering if they had managed to get out. He hadn’t heard anything, but maybe they already had escaped. There was a chance that no one was residing in West Terrier. Bentley might have shepherded everyone out.

Matthew chuckled at the thought of the Vixen Queen leading her army into the headquarters of the Granite Bloc, only to find that King Bentley, Queen Roxanne, Acting Babar Jasiri, Farress Nilia, Queen Navarra, King Cottontail, and others were missing. What would she do?

Matthew ignored his fantasy to address his team about to head home. Tomorrow, they had a tedious day of auditing supply reports.

“Make sure everyone leaves your computers on overnight!” he called to the room. “I.T. has to update everything so the software will run smoothly tomorrow. Thanks, everyone. Great work today.”

A few raised their arms to wave goodnight, though most slunk out, exhausted from the day’s work. As Matthew’s lieutenant exited, a messenger slid past her.

“General Palmer,” she saluted. “The Vulpus Transportation Administration Board asked me to deliver this to you.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and took the telegram. What the hell did they want now? Another parking infraction?

He narrowed his gaze as he read the short message of more than fifty unlicensed vehicles heading east along a shunpike about ten miles north of the Vixen Cliffs. The message was a castigation of Matthew for not registering such a large number of what appeared to be medical vehicles. A grainy image of one of the trucks was included, though Matthew could hardly make out any details.

Matthew deduced that this massive convoy of unlicensed vehicles could be the escape that his mother had warned him of. Fifty trucks could hold well over 2,000 people. And they were on a direct route for the Vulpus Dam.

Why?

Matthew tore up the telegram and deposited the remains in his trashcan. No one could know of this, but he had to do something. If this was what he thought it was…

The *Dam*? What was there that could aid in an escape? If they were planning to rappel down the Cliffs, they were as good as dead. No, they wouldn’t do something so blatantly careless.

It was two hours until midnight. The military library was due to close in an hour. He would have to hurry to find the schematics of the Dam, and attempt to discern their plan before it was too late to help. Or worse, before they were found out.

—The Vulpus Dam Administration Center—

—November 11, 725—

-The Next Morning-

Jacquetta Lazoy watched out the truck window as it entered the open gate of the Dam complex. It was shortly after 9:30am. The facility was far from any major city and set a while off the main road. This would be to their advantage. Fifty of the trucks parked on the long driveway while two in front drove up to the main building. It was packed with 100 Cartonians, some of them soldiers, all of them fighters. This was the storming party, the group whose purpose was to enter the Dam Administration Center, incapacitate the staff, and hijack control of the Dam complex.

From Jacquetta’s truck, she could see the two storming vehicles park directly in front of the main entrance. There was a second auxiliary entrance on the opposite side of the Dam, but there wasn’t any control facilities over there and few employees should be on that side.

Behind them, someone got out of the last truck and shut the gates. It was padlocked with chains.

Jacquetta’s heart began to race. At the entrance to the Dam building, the soldiers were disembarking. They all had guns.

Eight days of travel led them here, to the place that no one thought they’d actually reach. Jacquetta had experienced true pain of passing through Felexa, long since converted into a domicile of the deer. She had been bewildered by their luck and circumstance, but could now taste the prospect of freedom.

A small cry escaped her lips as the soldiers rushed the building. A single gunshot indicated the death of whoever was standing closest to the door, probably a receptionist. Jacquetta turned to her three children.

“This is it.”

### Part Two

—The Vulpus Dam Administration Center—

—November 11, 725—

Sergeant Monica Oll kicked down her seventh door, and found it empty. Another storage closet. She followed the leader of the storming—Sentinel Dane Mastiff of Canis—down the halls of the massive Dam Administration Center, searching for all its occupants. They were going off memorized diagrams of the facility, made public to the Grand Library of Phantine years ago during the last known remodel.

The main goal was to incapacitate the facility and its employees without raising any alarm. No one in the capital could know they were here, or the Vixen Queen would deploy reinforcements. A team of ten soldiers followed behind the stormers, shooting the cameras.

One of the first stops was the personnel office, located at the surface level. There, a simple bit of force on the part of massive Dane Mastiff caused the on-site personnel manager to give the total amount of people present: thirty-seven. Dane tied duct tape around her mouth, shackled her to a column in the middle of the office, and moved on.

Monica’s gun was raised the entire time. Dane wanted the foxes taken hostage, and kept together. The receptionist at the door had tried to press an emergency button, and was the first to die. Three more engineers ran for fire alarms, and similarly met their demise.

After the first hour of searching, 29 of 37 foxes had been found. 24 were placed in the personnel office, and the other five were killed for trying to thwart the attack. But eight people still had to be found, including those in the control room.

The complex was equivalent to the height of seventeen stories, but only six were enumerated; each level was extremely tall and often completely unoccupied. The control room was one level below the surface, though that equated to about eight stories. From Monica’s estimation, the control room was located in the upper third of the Dam’s western cliff face. Dane, Monica, and a team of others headed there, ready to being the second assault.

“Sergeant O, let’s go!” Dane whispered to her, jerking his head toward the just-discovered control room door. She nodded, and they entered together. Eight foxes leapt back in surprise. They were wearing light blue lab coats.

“OUT!” Dane shouted.

“ARMS UP!” Monica yelled.

The last eight foxes obeyed, and followed Dane into the hallway. Waiting crocodiles and horses handcuffed them.

“What is this?” one of them cried.

“It’s a coup, Stu!”

“Granite Bloc *scum*!”

“Quiet,” Dane growled. He was an imposing dog, twice the height of Monica. The eight foxes gazed up at him in fear. They were taken to the personnel office. Monica went into the control room, which had a large window overlooking the dam basin. The size of it startled her. She did a quick sweep of the control room controls, to make sure nothing was blinking, flashing, or triggering an alarm.

They took the rest of the second hour to completely search the facility until they were absolutely confident that no one else was here. In the personnel office, the team destroyed all the computers, phones, electronic equipment, and even cut the power. The 32 detained foxes were sprayed with a mild gas that rendered them unconscious. Then they were left alone, whether to live or die later, and locked inside the office. Dane lifted a vending machine by himself and slammed it in front of the office door. Monica pushed a desk in front of it as well.

“The Dam is ours!” Dane announced triumphantly to the stormers. “Raise the flag.”

One of the soldiers opened her backpack and removed a yellow banner. She ran outside and waved it to the trucks. Monica watched from the lobby as the other fifty trucks of their convoy drove up the driveway and parked in front of the building.

They were ready to escape.

—

The control room team was the first to be brought inside the Dam complex. Diana Loudoun followed the other four members of the team to the control room. She told Lana and Nicholas she’d meet them on the waste receptacle, or trash ship as everyone called them.

The control room team was led by Dr. Helen Hoover, a horse. She was a hydrological engineer and had been the chief operating officer of the largest dam in Equine Isle before fleeing the island. Two of the others were crocodiles, also hydrologists familiar with the many waterways of Eusuchia. The last was Gloria Berryessa, a duck with knowledge of bell-mouth spillways. Diana had met each of them yesterday to speak in detail of how she could help them control the Dam. They said it would involve a lot of trial-and-error and improvisation. Diana was glad she volunteered, to feel useful.

In fact, she felt *royal* again. It had been so long since she had carried out a public duty.

The team was shown to the control room, accessed by a long elevator ride. The room was rectangular and filled with slanted wall-mounted panels spangled with the controls that regulated the Dam. The majority of the panels were up against a long sheet of glass that overlooked the three Dams. Diana was drawn to the window immediately, eager for her first proper look at the Vulpus Dam.

It was titanic. Below her to the right was the gargantuan Lower Dam, and beyond that was the Expanse. The wastelands that lay south of Cartonia, the uncharted territory on the map, and the place to which the Cartonians hoped to escape. The Lower Dam was connected on either side to the Vixen Cliffs, and was like the last step in a staircase into the Expanse. Water rolled gently in the Lower Basin like a great ocean.

As the four hydrologists set to familiarizing themselves with the control panels, taking notes on what was where, Diana continued to gaze at the Vulpus Dam.

To her left, at eye level, was the apex of the Middle Dam. It was the shortest of all three, but just as colossally wide. In the middle were two gaping circles facing front like hollow black eyes. From her orientation in Canis and conversations with the control room team, Diana knew these holes were the jet-flow gates which pumped water from the Middle Basin into the Lower. It sounded like the only time it was necessary to move the water around was when there was a threat of overtopping. If a Dam was overwhelmed, it could face structural collapse. That was imperative to avoid.

Beyond the Middle Dam and the Middle Basin was the Upper Dam. It was the most well-known because it was slightly bent like a U and the only dam at surface-level. Diana had seen many pictures of the structure over the years. On a good, clear day, and when it’s own jet-flow gates were open—the Upper Dam was a remarkably photogenic site.

The Upper Dam held the water of the Vulpus Reservoir, and was for the longest time the site’s *only* Dam until the Reservoir expanded and put more pressure on the Dam itself. Vulpus, with funding from the Harmony Crown, built the Middle and Lower Dams. The Cartonian River, which began at the Macaw Delta in Psittancyna, traveled all throughout the continent and pooled in the Vulpus Reservoir.

And so the Vulpus Dam was actually three, but the Lower Dam was the only one the team would have to overcome to get out of Cartonia, and they would only be touching the Lower Basin.

“Impressive, hm?” Dr. Hoover asked from behind her, startling Diana. She realized she had nearly climbed on top of the control panel to get a good view.

“It’s just…so large,” Diana replied. “I didn’t expect to feel so small.”

Dr. Hoover sighed with a smile.

“It would have been such an honor to work here. Before the war, people from all nations could apply for a position here, even if you weren’t a fox. I was still too inexperienced to have the chance, and of course now…”

She trailed off, and glanced at the controls. “This is going to be a challenge. I’ve never operated on anything as complicated as this.”

“But you will be able to figure it out, right?” Diana asked, her stomach tightening.

“Of course,” Dr. Hoover said with a grin. “I love a challenge.”

Diana stared out the window, trying to remember everything that Max had said in his orientation in Canis.

“Trying to figure out how it all works?” Dr. Khnum, one of the crocodiles, called from across the room, seemingly interested in Diana’s curious face. “It’s all quite easy, really.”

She pointed at the Upper Dam.

“The Upper Dam is the first line of defense to retain the water of the Vulpus Reservoir. The Cartonian River is the primary supplier of the Reservoir, but even after we cut them off in Phantine with a Dam of our own, the foxes managed to fill the Reservoir with water from the First Vista River. Sometimes the rivers flood, sometimes it rains a lot, and so the Reservoir may flood. Then what?”

“It overtops,” Diana said confidently.

“Only if left unregulated,” Dr. Khnum added, holding up a scaly finger. “A Dam must *never* overtop. The Upper Dam has eight jet-flow gates. You can see them embedded in the dam. See them?”

“I do,” Diana muttered, squinting across the great distance.

“They’re closed now, and are controlled from here. When the on-site engineers notice the Upper Dam is close to overtopping, they jettison water into the Middle Basin through the jet-flow gates. They’re like jacuzzi jets. Now, the Reservoir is safely level, and the Middle Basin holds a backup supply of water. But what if the Middle Basin overtops?”

Diana was ready.

“The jet-flow gates on the Middle Dam are opened.”

“I love her,” Dr. Khnum remarked to her colleagues. “A natural hydrologist.”

Diana blushed.

“You make it easy to understand.”

“Indeed,” Dr. Khnum agreed. “The Middle Dam has two jet-flow gates, both in the center.”

Diana glanced back at the two large eye-like holes in the center of the Middle Dam.

“Now you know how water gets from the Reservoir into the Lower Basin, the final line of defense to keeping the water in. If water overtops the Lower Dam, it falls into the Expanse, but the structural integrity of the Dam could still be threatened. It is the largest Dam and therefore the one at greatest risk of destruction. Jet-flow gates aren’t enough. You need something that will *ensure* excess water will flow out. The bell-mouth spillway.”

Diana remembered Max’s explanation, how the bell-mouth could never close and was like an open drain pipe. The images shown resembled a whirlpool. However, looking into the Lower Basin, Diana was unable to find anything that looked like a maelstrom.

“It’s over there,” Gloria Berryessa said. “It looks like an upside-down bell.”

Sure enough, on the far side of the Lower Basin, sticking out of the water, was a tan circle with a fat rim and a thinner base. The water level was significantly below it, which didn’t seem good.

“We’ll need to raise the water level,” Dr. Hoover remarked, analyzing the controls, “using the jet-flow gates of the Middle Dam. But not yet. We have to get the trash ships down there first.”

The waste receptacles, of which there only two, were perched at the surface, where trucks could transport waste from the nearby mines to the Dam. Max, Minerva, and Lionel decided that loading the expedition’s supplies and then dropping them down the chute into the Lower Basin was dangerous, as the heavy gravitational drop might break or damage the crates that held the non-perishable supplies. There was no guarantee of food out in the Expanse, and the expedition needed everything they could carry.

Diana went up to the surface on Dr. Hoover’s orders, and coordinated a team to receive the trash ships when they were lowered down into the Basin.

Back in the control room, Dr. Hoover released the trash ships from the surface down a large metal funnel, rocketing them out into the Lower Basin. Diana leaned against the window to look directly below her.

Against the cliff’s edge was what resembled a dock, or a platform. Workers of the Dam could walk right down to the Lower Basin. According to Dr. Hoover, the platform floated, and automatically raised or lowered to the current water-level. The team down on the dock were reigning in the trash ships and opening the doors. A freight elevator in the Dam complex would bring the rest of the passengers down there, and the supplies would be manually loaded into the trash ships pinned against the dock. Once the ships were filled with supplies, the control room team would open the jet-flow gates and fill the Lower Basin to overtop the bell-mouth spillway. The control room team would then quickly head down and board the ships, seal the doors, and let the ships move naturally toward the bell-mouth.

Then, they’d brace for the drop.

—

Both the spherical waste receptacles were tethered to the dock. Lionel Lazoy figured out how to open the enormous doors. Though the ships bobbed up and down in the water, it was relatively easy to gain access to the interiors using built-in ramps.

Dane Mastiff coordinated the transfer of the hundreds of crates, luggage, and supplies from the trucks at the surface down the freight elevator to the Lower Basin.

Lionel saw the diagrams, and the photographs, but the size of the trash ships was still alarming. A perfect sphere, made of metal, and completely hollow on the inside. Well, there were *two* levels to the ship, to maximize the amount of waste that could be packed within. A ramp led from the bottom to the top. They decided to put the supplies on the lower level to avoid having anything fall on them during the trip through the spillway.

Every passenger, except the elderly and very young and those in the control room, aided in the movement of the supplies. The stores were evenly distributed between the two ships in case one did not survive the fall through the bell-mouth spillway.

Once the ships emerged from the Lower Dam, the passengers intended to begin the long trek across the Expanse. Vulpus was going to realize before this day was out that something had occurred at the Dam, especially when the Dam workers never returned home. The further away they were, the better.

“Alright,” Max said to Lionel and Minerva as Dane placed the last crate in the receptacles. “Let’s get everyone on board.”

—

“How many of us can fit?” someone near the front of the crowd asked. The platform of the Lower Basin was large enough to accommodate all 1,220 passengers, minus the five in the control room. Max glanced behind him into the open waste receptacles.

“610 in each. Minerva, will you help me count?”

“Sure.”

But no one on the platform moved. Everyone was quietly staring at Max, Minerva, and Lionel, and the waste receptacles, as if they were lunatics preaching on the side of the street. Max caught the stare of Queen Bella Mallard, looking frightened. She was gripping her husband’s hand, who cradled their daughter in the other flipper. Max understood their trepidation. They had made it this far—something few thought possible—and were now expected to board a ship not meant for living occupants and blast out of Cartonia. Yes, there were plenty of helmets and paddings for everybody but that might not even be enough to cushion their fall.

“Maybe we should go first,” Minerva whispered. “Show them it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Max agreed, and together he and Minerva stepped off the dock and into the waste receptacle. He beckoned to those near the front, and finally Farress Nilia made her way through the crowd. Amin Hotep was following her.

“Thank you,” Nilia muttered as she and Amin clambered inside. Then, others summoned their own courage and said their silent farewells to Cartonian soil. Max tried not to think of the harsh and bitter decision all of them were making to leave their homeland. He tried to ignore the storm of emotions within his own heart, and the fear of what would come next when they went beyond the Dam.

Sterling and Grayson Oldman led the boarding for the other waste receptacle. Max and Minerva in the entrance to one, while Lionel held the other.

“See you in the Expanse,” Grayson Oldman remarked, waving from within the ship. Max saw Lionel shake his paw.

“Thank you,” Navarra Caligari said to Max as she carried a young horse onto the receptacle. “I am ready to leave this place behind.”

She paused at the doors, resting her hoof on the cool metal.

This was really it, Max thought. Once these doors were sealed, there was no going back.

—

Dr. Helen Hoover made a comment about the low water level, and conversed with her team about how to raise the tides. Of the five of them, only Diana lacked training in dam operations. Diana kept her distance from all the panels, not wanting to be obtrusive.

“I can’t believe there’s no phone down to the platform,” Dr. Hoover groaned. “That makes communication very difficult. Diana, would you mind taking the elevator down there and see what’s going on? I want to make sure we can raise the water level.”

This was the reason why Diana was assigned to the team—to ferry messages or do an odd task for the team in case they required extra hands. She raced for the elevator. When she emerged on the platform, it seemed about a quarter of the passengers had boarded.

Diana scanned for Lana and Nicholas, and found them near the ship on the right.

“How’s it going?” Lana asked. She had her diary hooked under her arm.

“Good!” Diana said, loud enough for Max and Minerva to hear in the threshold of the trash ship. “Can we raise the water?”

“Yes,” Max said, “the bell-mouth should start filling.”

“Got it,” Diana said with a smile. She turned to her daughter. “Which ship are you getting on?”

“This one,” Lana thumbed at the right ship. “Don’t get on the wrong one, now.”

“I won’t! See you soon!”

Diana headed back upstairs. She relayed the message to her compatriots.

“Let’s start filling the Lower Basin,” Dr. Hoover said to her team. They opened the Middle Dam’s jet-flow gates, and Diana watched as an enormous torrent of water gushed out of the large black holes, all from the Middle Basin. Dr. Hoover opened the Upper Dam’s jet-flows as well so that water could drain continuously from the Reservoir into the Lower Basin and overtop the bell-mouth spillway.

Diana would have thought filling the Basin would take a long time, but on the contrary it didn’t take that long at all. The jet-flow gates were violent, and Dr. Khnum said they were some of the largest spillways in Cartonia. The fourth hydrologist, Dr. Andrea Lockington, soon pointed out that the water had reached the lip of the bell-mouth. On the platform below, boarding was about halfway done.

“We’re almost ready,” Dr. Hoover said, which sent a surge of excitement through Diana’s body. “The only thing left to do is lock the settings so we can get down there and get on board.”

After several more minutes, Dr. Khnum checked her watch.

“I think we can head down. I’m ready to go.”

Dr. Hoover took a few moments to check all the dials, switches, and panels before agreeing. She headed over to the far left side of the room, and hit a few switches.

And then the control room door burst open with sudden ferocity. Diana whirled around and her blood turned to ice. She caught sight of three foxes in uniform before they began shooting. She dropped to the floor and felt something graze her side. The other four screamed. Diana crawled behind one of the panels and tried to catch her breath, though she was hyperventilating in fear. One thought passed through her head on a never-ending loop: *they know we’re here*.

A fox came around the panel and aimed his gun at her. Diana screamed, putting her trotters over her head. When the gunshot rang out, she was surprised she felt no pain.

Because she hadn’t been shot. The fox fell dead beside her. She raised her head. Two more gunshots sounded. Dr. Hoover was crying out in agony. Dr. Khnum was against the other wall, twitching lifelessly.

Another fox emerged in Diana’s view, dressed in the dark green of an army general. He gazed at her with large brown searching eyes, and then holstered his gun. He glanced at the others, and *tsked* at Gloria Berryessa, who was bleeding from her head all over the floor. The fox, who for some reason had killed his own counterparts, removed his hat and walked to the door. Diana shakily stood and watched him bolt and lock it.

—

Pandemonium erupted on the platform as foxes descended into the Dam Basin, pouring out of the freight elevator and service stairwells. Roxanne Lazoy and her family had not yet entered a trash ship, and were caught on the docks. The foxes’ arrival was nothing short of a jolting shock; Roxanne had not seen any foxes following them. And yet here they were.

Many passengers had carried knives or even guns with them for personal defense and were deploying them now against the foxes. But the foxes were military and heavily armed. They were too plentiful and far superior in their weaponry.

Someone grabbed Roxanne’s shoulder—a cat.

“Your Majesty!” she screamed. “Get on the ship!”

A path was cleared for the Lazoys and they ran for the open door of the waste receptacle. Before they could reach it, Roxanne felt searing pain as something tore through her shoulder. The force of what was undoubtedly a bullet caused Roxanne to collapse onto the platform. Mom and Zamora stopped running and hurried to help her. When Zamora saw blood, she went ballistic. She started violently clawing at her face. Lionel saw his family in pain and started away from the door of the trash ship to help.

“RUN!” someone shouted, pointing to the surface of the cliffs. Roxanne soon learned why. A bazooka rocket flashed across her vision and connected with Lionel’s trash ship, obliterating it. Mom threw her body over Roxanne as shrapnel rained down on them. Roxanne saw through a gap in Mom’s cover that Lionel had been hit hard by the blast, and was lying lifelessly at the edge of the platform. The doors of the trash ships were made of translucent metal and she could see in the bombed ship its trapped inhabitants, scrambling to escape before the ship went under. She saw Sterling and Grayson Oldman, drowning. On the intact ship, its passengers were forced to watch as their friends and family were killed.

“Lionel…” Roxanne mumbled, her voice hoarse, trying to call out for her motionless brother on the dock.

She was still lying on her back, pressing her paw to her wounded shoulder. Mom straightened, tears rolling down her face as both of them came to the same conclusion that they would not be leaving Cartonia. None of them would. They hadn’t been quick enough.

Nothing made this more apparent than the sight of an unmistakable silhouette standing at the apex of the cliffs near the Dam complex’s entrance, the spiky crown a giveaway to the presence of the Vixen Queen.

—

It was a slaughter. Lana Loudoun struggled amid the roiling crowd to keep close to Nicholas, to get onto the trash ship. One of them had been bombed and sunk, taking hundreds of people with it. The foxes were ruthlessly murdering everyone in their way. If Lana wanted to survive, she had to board the other ship, which Max and Minerva were trying to unshackle from the dock.

But Mom was upstairs in the control room. They were apart. Lana wanted her here, but they were separated. If she were to escape, she would never see her mother again…

They were all going to die. The foxes were not going to let anyone escape.

“It’s the Vixen Queen!” someone shouted. Terror flooded Lana’s body just as Nicholas grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her close. Lana twisted her body to gaze upward at the cliffs far above them, where dozens of foxes were standing. One of them was crowned. The soldiers up above were reloading the bazooka cannon.

Nicholas was pulling her. Her feet were moving as if automated. She was screaming too, crying out for her mother. But then Nicholas turned her head, and she realized she was on the trash ship. The diary fell from her trotters.

She pulled herself together and wriggled out of Nicholas’s grasp. She had to go back for her mother.

—

At the surface, sneering down into the Lower Basin, was the Vixen Queen. She angrily adjusted her crown and scowled.

An *escape attempt*? How did a ragtag band of refugees manage to pull this off?

Earlier this morning, a disturbance at the Dam was reported. It took a while for anyone to figure out what might actually be occurring—the original assumption was sabotage by a disgruntled fox. Then someone at the Vulpus Transportation Administration Board mentioned a convoy of unlicensed medical vehicles traveling through Vulpus. The dots were connected, and the Vixen Queen sent a battalion to stop what she assumed was a Granite Bloc-led assault on their water supply. She feared that this might have been a diversion to steal gems from the Cliffs, and she decided to go herself to the Dam.

But no. This was not an act of sabotage. No one was trying to break her Dam, or steal her gems. These people were trying to use the Dam’s waste receptacles to *flee*.

“Majesty!” one of her Generals saluted. “Soldiers in the Basin are reporting the presence of Queen Roxanne II, Jacquetta Lazoy, Sterling Oldman, Thumper Connelly…”

“*Royals?!*” the Vixen Queen sneered in shock. “No…”

Images of the ongoing invasion of West Terrier came to mind. She had wanted to be there when Highland Castle fell, and would have headed north today had this not taken her immediate attention. Why had West Terrier been evacuated? Why was Highland Castle reportedly so quiet atop its hill? Suddenly it made sense…because there were no royals in Highland Castle. They were all here! This was a grand plot by the Granite Bloc.

Bentley Connelly must be here too. Of course! He would be the one to organize something as monstrous as this. He welcomed the invasion of Canis because it provided the perfect distraction to slip through enemy territory. The coward! Running now when the war was lost. The Vixen Queen hungered for his demise. If he was here, she’d kill him herself.

“Slaughter them all, except the King of Canis. Lieutenant, bring me down to the basin. I must find Bentley Connelly.”

The Lieutenant relayed the message to his troops as the Vixen Queen entered the Dam Administration Center.

—

Thumper fired his gun into the face of a fox, who crumpled on the spot. He shoved Evangelina toward the open door of the remaining trash ship.

“GO!” he shouted at her. She did not move. She was crying. Around them, carnage. There were so many dead.

He saw Zamora Lazoy, shrieking over the body of her sister, Queen Roxanne. She was bleeding profusely. Jacquetta Lazoy was cradling her son, Lionel Lazoy. He was not moving.

A rocket soared overhead, but narrowly missed the second trash ship. It crashed into the water, sending a tidal wave flooding over the dock. Thumper was knocked over, and slid through water and blood away from the trash ship. Sentinel Dane Mastiff was wielding an axe and hacking at the ropes holding the surviving trash ship in place. The water level of the Dam was now high enough to fill the bell-mouth spillway. This was their only chance.

Thumper struggled to his feet, brandishing his gun, and found Evangelina. He yanked her in the direction of the trash ship, where dozens were hastily boarding. A female pig was trying to get out, but another pig held her in place.

“MOM!” the pig was screaming. Thumper found Max, standing at the ship’s door. He was unarmed, and yet he was selflessly shepherding people inside. Thumper stood by his side, prepared to shield others as they boarded.

Dane Mastiff swung his axe one final time, and the ship became untethered. He swung himself through the ship’s opening as it began to glide away from the dock. Altruism bled away. This was the time to sink or swim. Jump or stay. Live or die. Evangelina made her choice and leapt into the ship’s opening. Thumper hesitated. Evangelina turned around for Thumper’s paw, but he couldn’t reach. Max got a running start and jumped, landing in the opening. There were still hundreds on the dock, too many to count. Thumper felt his arms go loose. Evangelina was slipping away. He’d die here after all. Benny’s sacrifice had been for nothing.

“Come back!” someone shouted behind him.

“Please!”

“Don’t leave us!”

Evangelina was screaming, reaching out for Thumper across the widening gap. People were still leaping for the ship. Some made it. Some did not. But he had to try.

And then Jacquetta Lazoy was upon him. She was caked in blood. She seized his shoulders, hysterics afire in her face.

“Not you too!” she wailed, and she shoved him. He flew backward with alarming force, and as he fell toward the water he raised his arms over his head. A strong paw closed down around his own, and Dane Mastiff lifted Thumper into the trash ship.

A third bazooka rocket landed between the trash ship and the dock, blowing Jacquetta backward into the slaughter. The ship spun, and the velocity of the jolt caused the doors to seal. Then, the vessel began to drift away from the dock.

Toward the bell-mouth spillway.

—

One of the foxes in the control room stirred, and the General shot him in the head again. The Vulpine General knelt beside Gloria Berryessa and closed her eyes with his fingers. Dr. Lockington was dead too. Dr. Hoover shrunk away from him as he approached.

“Here,” the fox said, tearing a piece of fabric from his pants and wrapping it around Dr. Hoover’s injured leg. “Use this as a tourniquet. Do you know how to tie one?”

Dr. Hoover nodded once, gazing at him with abject fear. The fox moved on to Dr. Khnum, who was still breathing but only just. He shook his head.

“She won’t make it.”

While the fox made his rounds, Diana inched around him to the panel. Signaling at Dr. Hoover, she tried to figure out if something could be done to stop the foxes.

The fox realized she was doing something and he turned to her.

“Stay still.”

“Who are you?” Diana demanded. “What are you doing here?”

The fox tapped his nameplate casually as he returned to Dr. Hoover’s side and inspected her tourniquet.

“Palmer. General Matthew Palmer.”

Dr. Hoover yelped as General Palmer moved her paw away from her stomach, where she had been shot. He winced. “Put pressure on that.”

But when he stood, his face was pained and his head shook a few inches. Dr. Hoover was losing a lot of blood.

“What are you going to do with us?” Diana asked, fearing the answer. “Why did you kill the others?”

General Palmer gestured blankly at the dead foxes.

“They were going to kill you. All of you, I mean. Sorry I didn’t get here fast enough.”

Diana gaped at him. He was inspecting the control panels, his mouth silently reading the labels on the dials. Then he peered out the window and cringed at the massacre on the dock.

“Do you have family down there?”

Diana was silent. “They won’t make it to the bell-mouth in time, assuming that’s your plan. The Queen has bazookas too.”

Diana gasped, horrified.

“The *Vixen Queen*?”

General Palmer nodded, jerking his thumb upward. Only then he paused, still looking out the window.

“There she is.”

Diana edged toward the window, keeping her distance from General Palmer, and saw the Vixen Queen in the flesh for the first time. She was emerging from the elevator, surrounded by soldiers. There were probably less than 100 people alive on the platform now. Anyone that had been on the trash ship when it was impacted by the missile would have either burned or drowned. But it was the left one that blew up. Not the right, the one that Lana said she was going to board. She might be alive!

Diana could see that first ship, the one that Lana was planning to board, drifting away from the dock. The ship was translucent. She could see the people gathered inside.

General Palmer tapped the glass, startling Diana, and then he turned his head toward the Middle Dam.

He didn’t kill them. He tried to save them. He actually *did* save Diana. He was calm, and he apologized for not saving them quicker. Was he…on their side?

No, of course not. Never trust a fox. All foxes were evil. Every single one of them. She didn’t trust him, and she must do something if she wanted to save Lana.

General Palmer kept looking at the Middle Dam, and then back to the controls. Diana continued to search the trash ship’s distant passengers for her daughter. She remembered a set of binoculars in Gloria Berryessa’s bag.

Diana wished Dr. Hoover, or any of the others, were able to help her. But three were dead and Dr. Hoover was fading. The blood from her stomach continued to pour out.

“We have to open the Upper Dam,” General Palmer said suddenly, his voice level. “It’ll flood the platform. It’ll kill the Vixen Queen.”

Diana was snapped to attention. She gaped.

“Open…the Dam? That’s not how it works! It’ll kill everyone down there! I won’t let you do that.”

Why did he want to kill his queen? Who *was* this man?

“Everyone is going to die anyway, whether here or in a prison or on national television. This is our one chance to take a shot at the Vixen Queen.”

Diana realized as soon as the foxes barged into the control room that she would not be leaving Cartonia, but if Lana was on that ship, the one drifting toward the bell-mouth spillway, Lana could be free. It was up to her to save her, and all the others on board. She did not need General Matthew Palmer to accomplish that. Regardless of what his own intentions might be, he was untrustworthy. No one with a vendetta for the Vixen Queen would willingly climb to the highest echelon of the Vulpine military command.

Diana raced for the door.

“Stop!” General Palmer called. “You’re safest in here.”

Diana halted near the door, but not because General Palmer told her. She stooped and picked up one of the guns of the fallen foxes. She aimed the weapon at General Palmer. He raised his arms defensively.

“I am not safe here,” she insisted. “I am never safe when a fox is near. Get away from the panels.”

General Palmer slowly stepped away, and she moved toward Gloria Berryessa’s bag. Gun aimed at his chest, gaze unbroken, Diana rooted around in the backpack until she found the binoculars.

“I’m not like the others,” General Palmer pleaded. “I promise you. I’m…”

“Quiet. Don’t move.”

Diana weighed how she could peer through the binoculars and keep her eyes on Palmer. It wasn’t possible.

“I promise I’m good,” General Palmer repeated. He sighed. “I’m the brother of Victoria Vixen.”

Diana couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was a ludicrous statement.

“Victoria Vixen didn’t have any siblings. I may not be from Vulpus, but I’m not that dumb.”

“It’s the truth,” General Palmer said quickly. “Please, we don’t have much time. I’m trying to help you. We have to…”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Diana sneered. “If you wanted to help us, you should have kept the Vixen Queen the *fuck* away from us!”

“I tried! I promise you, I tried. This went out of my hands. Please, trust me.”

Diana guffawed.

“Never trust a fox.”

“You’re going to have to trust this one if you want that waste receptacle to reach the bell-mouth spillway. They’re going to fire that bazooka again any minute.”

“Never trust a fox,” Diana repeated, her gun still aimed at the General’s head. His arms lowered slightly.

“I’m not a fox,” he stated. “I am a Cartonian. I am a patriot of the Harmony Crown. And I *am* Victoria’s brother. My mother, Vora Vixen, received a message from Jacquetta Lazoy, asking for my help. I am here to help. You don’t want to open the Dam and kill the Vixen Queen? Fine. Tell me what you want to do. But know that we are the only ones that control the Dam right now. We have a perfect opportunity to kill the Vixen Queen, whatever the cost.”

Diana kept one eye on him as she peeked out the window. The first ship was maybe a quarter of the way to the bell-mouth spillway. On the dock, the Vixen Queen was still surrounded by her cronies as more and more passengers were slaughtered. She appeared to be looking for somebody. Diana could not tell how many down there were alive or dead. She had to know if Lana was among them. She risked it and pulled the binoculars to her face. Adjusting the lenses, she focused on the ship.

Her heart skipped a beat. She saw her. Lana! Clear as day, on the ship with Nicholas at her side. She made it.

“What’s your name?” General Palmer asked. Diana did not answer, and did not realize her arm holding the gun had lowered. “Please…I am beseeching you. This is your one chance. If you open that Dam, the Vixen Queen will drown. Her army will drown.”

“Everyone else will too. The ones on the dock. The ones in the water.”

General Palmer was still.

“The waste receptacle might survive. The ones on the dock will not, but the Vixen Queen *will* die. What other choice do we have?”

Diana set the gun on the panels and squeezed her eyes shut, inwardly adjuring that all those on the platform would forgive her. She would condemn them all to save Lana. She would kill the Vixen Queen herself for Lana. There was no sacrifice she was not willing to make to ensure Lana made it out of Cartonia.

“How do we open the Dam?”

General Palmer hurried over to the far panels, and stopped over one protected by a sheet of glass.

“The Upper Dam can be opened, literally split apart, in an emergency. It’s made of staggered pieces that can separate into an opening. It’s been done a few times when the Dam was at an extremely low capacity and the jet-flow gates became clogged. We can operate that from here.”

Diana was skeptical. Maybe he really did want to kill the Vixen Queen.

“Is the Reservoir at an extremely low capacity?”

“No, it’s totally full.”

“Great.”

General Palmer hit the panel with his elbow and shattered the glass. He winced and rubbed his limb. She watched him wearily. Was he really the brother of Victoria Vixen? If so, why had he been hiding all these years? If he really wanted to help the Granite Bloc, he could have defected. Maybe Bentley Connelly knew about him.

The General was rubbing his chin, gazing at the panel now that he cleared away the broken glass. Diana approached and groaned.

“It requires a passcode! We don’t know it!”

Palmer threw a grin her way. He removed a notecard from his breast pocket and typed in the code. The key was accepted.

“What do we do?”

“We just press these buttons here…I think.”

“You can’t,” came the raspy whisper of Dr. Helen Hoover. She was still alive, only just, watching them with beleaguered eyes. “Don’t.”

“Dr. Hoover!” Diana gasped. “Tell us what to do.”

A bazooka flared past the window, and Diana ran back in time to see the missile splash only meters away from the trash ship. The noise of gunfire and the slosh of waves was deafening, but Diana could only hear her daughter screaming. Crying out for someone to help her.

Damn the Dam.

“What do I press?”

General Palmer took two fingers and pressed buttons on the panel. He indicated with his other hand to ones out of his reach.

“You have to press those. We have to do it together.”

Diana eyed her unlikely ally, but did as he asked. As all four buttons were held in unison, a siren blared.

“ALERT!” an automated voice warned. “RESERVOIR AT FULL CAPACITY!”

“No!” Dr. Hoover whimpered. “Please!”

“STOP! STOP! STOP!” the automated voice continued.

Neither General Palmer nor Diana relented, and held their pressure. Above the Middle Basin, the bended Upper Dam began to split apart at the top, like two rectangular blocks sliding into the cliffs. Water from the Reservoir poured through the opening and into the Middle Basin. A colossal waterfall drowned out the Upper Dam, and Diana gasped at the sight. The tidal wave traveled across the Middle Basin and slammed into the Middle Dam, overtopping it. Water poured into the Lower Basin in a monstrous torrent. A deluge.

Thousands of gallons of water crashed onto the platform below. The foxes and all the remaining passengers—dead and alive—flooded into the Basin. The violent stream did not stop as a cry escaped Diana’s lips.

Diana’s gaze had been locked on one individual. The Vixen Queen, with her jagged crown perched on her nefarious head. The most wickedly evil, cunningly vile person in all of Cartonia was carried away into the sea, and disappeared beneath the roiling waves. Diana waited and watched, but the fox’s head did not resurface. All of her scheming, all of her plotting, all of her horrific deeds and diabolical plots. This is where it all culminated, and this is where it ended. She wanted the foxes to be immortal in legacy, but she could not immortalize her own self. She was nothing more than another body, and here she drowned.

*The Vixen Queen was dead*.

Diana’s eyes snapped upward. The trash ship was swept up in the current, sending it spiraling toward the bell-mouth with rapid speed. Diana felt a surge of hope.

But then the Lower Dam overtopped. The whirlpool of the bell-mouth spillway was no longer visible, as there was too much water pouring into the Lower Basin for it to be seen.

The Upper Dam continued to open, and the amount of water gushing against the lower supports caused large cracks to form in the Middle Dam. They were visible at the edges.

“Matthew?” Diana muttered nervously. She let go of the buttons, and together they backed away from the window. The system began to go haywire, and alarm bells sounded from every panel. The Middle Dam splintered, then suddenly broke open. A huge chunk of it fell into the Lower Basin, nearly missing the trash ship. The Lower Dam was overwhelmed, and that too fractured. The pressure of surging water from the Vulpus Reservoir soon annihilated the last-remaining pieces of support holding the complex together, and all three Dams failed.

The Lower Dam collapsed first, the mammoth structure toppling into the Expanse. In doing so, it severed the channel of the bell-mouth spillway through which the passengers had hoped to make their escape. It didn’t matter, because as the Dam collapsed, the Lower Basin drained. The trash ship, still intact, was swept up in the ensuing flood. Behind it, the Middle Dam was disintegrating as if made of paper. Water from both the Middle Basin and the Reservoir added to the flood. The entire Dam complex shook, and the windows before them shattered.

Diana watched in shock and awe as the waste receptacle carrying Lana and hundreds of others disappeared over the Vixen Cliffs and into the Expanse, where a newly-formed river was pushing them south. She was frozen in place, her mouth agape. She hadn’t made a sound as the scene unfolded. Matthew Palmer was breathing heavily, to the point where it sounded like he was almost laughing.

Diana was breathless, speechless. The reservoir continued to drain in a relentless torrent, cascading over the demolished Vulpus Dam. With the flood went the bodies.

*The Vixen Queen was dead.*

Fate would dictate that Diana was not to leave Cartonia, nor the War. But Lana was. Her beautiful daughter had escaped, with her Diary. She carried with her a written history of her home, and what had become of it. When she began her chronicle, she was just a young woman on the precipice of adulthood. Now she was a hardened veteran of war.

Diana pressed her shaking trotters to her forehead and prayed that the escapees were safe. That they would live in peace and happiness, bereft of Cartonian misery. That their children would grow up in a world free from evil.

And that their lives would never again be threatened by a Vixen Queen.

General Palmer surged forward and grabbed her around the shoulders. Pieces of broken glass tumbled from the panels onto the floor.

“Come on! We have to go! This whole place is unstable.”

“Go where?” Diana asked dumbly, remaining where she stood as Palmer headed for the exit. “There’s no place for me anymore.”

Palmer rounded on her.

“We just killed the Vixen Queen. There are still foxes on the surface, and they’ll soon call for reinforcements. We have to take care of them and get you someplace safe.”

Diana stared.

“Take care of them?”

“Kill them.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes landed on Dr. Hoover, who had gone completely still. She had used her last breaths to warn them against destroying the Dam, but it was too late.

“Come on,” Matthew urged, “we have to go. Once we’re done here, we begin the revolution.”

Diana blinked.

“The what?”

“The revolution. We must take back Cartonia. Vulpus cannot rule it. The Vixen Queens are evil.”

Diana pointed out the window.

“You just said we killed the Vixen Queen. Surely…”

“There will *always* be a Vixen Queen,” Palmer muttered. “Now, I can get you out of here. Do you trust me?”

Diana surprised herself when she said, “Yes.”

“Good,” Palmer said. “Let’s go.”

But Diana lingered. Was there not even a moment to mourn her daughter? She’d never know her fate, nor would she ever see her again. What were the last words spoken to her?

*“See you later.”* Not even *“I love you.”*

Diana did not escape, like the others. She did not die here, like the others. She was the only survivor. What life would wait for her now? She was no longer a Hamleigh at the Porcinian Court. She was no longer the village seamstress in Ripper. She was no longer the mother to her daughter. She was alone. Perhaps her final chapter was indeed as a revolutionary. She had been passive through the war, avoiding the throes of conflict and hiding from the royal family.

But now, she was the woman who destroyed the Vulpus Dam. She had acquired a power with her actions today, and she had an ally in General Matthew Palmer.

“Come on,” Matthew called from the door.

“Wait,” Diana hesitated. She thought of King Bentley and those waiting anxiously for news back north. “I need to send a telegram.”

—Rook of Vulpus, Vista, Vulpus—

Princess Valencia Vixen swirled her drink as the royal family waited for updates on the siege of West Terrier. Her daughter, Vanna Vixen, was equally anxious. The fall of Canis had been planned and highly anticipated since the war’s beginning seventeen years ago. It seemed today was finally *the* day!

Valda rushed out of the castle several hours ago, and Valencia’s sources told her there was something odd going on at the Vulpus Dam.  The Vulpus Dam regulated the drinking supply for the Kingdom of Vulpus and all its territories. It was imperative to keep that place up and running. Once Valda was done there, she’d assuredly head north to West Terrier on the bullet train to deal with Bentley Connelly.

“She doesn’t drink,” Vanna Vixen remarked to her mother, indicating Crown Princess Violetta Vixen, the Vixen Queen’s only living daughter. “Do you ever notice that?”

“Well, she’s not pregnant, if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Valencia scoffed. Vanna shook her head.

“No, I think she does it to seem superior. Some trick of perception.”

Valencia disagreed that the Crown Princess’s dryness at age seventeen was anything other than reluctance or disinterest. Nonetheless, it was good for Vanna to keep her mind sharp and her wits about her for when Vanna inevitably made a rush for the throne.

A messenger calmly entered the room and bowed before the princesses.

“Hello. I bring news from—“

“Is Bentley Connelly dead?” Violetta Vixen interrupted, jumping with excitement. The messenger solemnly bowed his head.

“No…ma’am. West Terrier is still under attack, but I am returning from the Vulpus Dam. Highnesses, the Dam has been destroyed. We are unsure exactly how, but it…has completely fallen apart. All three of them. Queen Vixen had gone there to thwart what we believe to be an act of terrorism but…the Vixen Queen has perished.”

Violetta’s mouth was agape. All three of them were stunned. The messenger gave a hard look to Violetta as Valencia’s heart rate increased.

“Your Highness is now Queen of Vulpus.”

—Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis—

The foxes were within the city, and were moments away from breaching Highland Castle. King Bentley II had asked to be left alone, and Hamish McRory was intent on honoring that wish. He instead was sharing a drink with his boss, Callum Clackmannan, the Royal Head of Household. Both had chosen to remain in the capital despite the evacuation warning.

“The world is fucked,” the old dog bluntly mumbled into his glass. Hamish nodded in agreement. He poured two refills. As they sat in silence, awaiting their fate and the demise of Canis, Hamish could hear the telegram machine beeping from Callum’s desk. His boss glowered in its direction.

“Care to check that? Not that it matters…”

Hamish pushed out of his chair and slunk over to the desk. An encrypted telegram was being decrypted by the decoder, and a translated version was being typed onto a telegram card. Hamish guessed it was from either Ham Mercury in Simeone or King Archibald in Ursus. Once the machine was finished, Hamish took the card and read it over. It was for Bentley from…Diana Loudoun?

Hamish’s eyes went wide as he registered the impact of her message.

*The Vixen Queen is dead. The Dam is broken. They have escaped*.

Hamish dropped his drink.

“Where is the King?” he shouted at Callum. The old dog rubbed his forehead.

“Don’t shout, lad. He’s in his chambers.”

Hamish broke into a sprint. He took the stairs two at a time, his legs churning with ferocity. The empty corridors and hollow rooms flew past him in a blur. One final run through the place that had been home to him for the past six years.

King Bentley II was standing before a tall window in the uppermost tower of Highland Castle. He was watching, sadly, as the Vulpine troops breached the West Terrier city gates. The capital had long been evacuated, but Bentley had remained. As King of Canis, he believed his place was with the seat of government. He refused to run, not when he was seen as the vanguard of the quickly-collapsing Granite Bloc alliance.

Hamish stopped in the doorway upon entering. The King looked so calm, so regal, despite the forces of the Summer Sun being moments away. Bentley had even ordered the guards of the castle to stand by and let the invading troops inside. It was unknown what the Vixen Queen would do to him once Canis fell. Some monarchs had been forced to abdicate. Others had been murdered.

The way that Bentley stood at the window, his hands clasped at the small of his back, dressed in full royal regalia, Hamish thought he looked as if he was prepared to die. Indeed, the King had done everything in his power to halt the unstoppable Summer Sun alliance and its nefarious leader, the Vixen Queen. There was nothing more that could be done. Most of the Kingdoms in the Granite Bloc had fallen. Canis was one of the few left standing. Victoria Vixen, the love of Bentley’s life, was years dead. His parents were gone too. And now Thumper, his only sibling, was heading south. It had been days since their emotional parting, and the King was anxious for news.

“Your Majesty?”

Bentley turned. His face was wrought with sorrow. When he saw Hamish, he flinched the edges of his cheeks in what could have been a smile. When the evacuation order was given for the citizens of West Terrier, Bentley had begged Hamish to flee, but the valet had refused. He was one of the few members of the staff that had insisted on staying to support his King.

“Yes, Hamish?”

Hamish lifted his paw.

“A wireless telegram was just sent to the palace. Encrypted news from the Vixen Cliffs.”

Bentley swallowed. Hamish did not wait another second.

“The Vixen Queen is dead.”

The King’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“They escaped,” Hamish gasped. “They destroyed the Dam, and they escaped. Not all of them, apparently. But half. Or most. The Queen went to stop them, and she died in the flood.”

Bentley lowered himself into a chair. Outside, the soldiers reached the palace gates. As per his orders, the guards opened them.

“Half…? How do you know?”

“This telegram came from Diana Loudoun. She survived, but did not escape. She’s on the run. Your Majesty, *they escaped*!”

Bentley took the telegram and read it over. Now, he smiled properly.

“Thank you,” Bentley muttered, “for telling me. What about the reservoir?”

“Emptied. The foxes have no drinking water.”

The Vulpine troops were inside the palace. Hamish could hear them downstairs. He quickly shut the door.

“If they cleared the Cliffs,” Hamish said to the King, “are they free?”

Bentley gazed longingly out the window.

“Yes,” he mused. “They are free.”

Hamish frowned.

“Sir…do you think you’ll ever see your brother again?”

Under some crowns, the question would be impertinent. But as the Granite Bloc crumbled around them, Hamish and the King had grown close. Hamish imagined he might be the closest the King had to a friend nowadays.

“I don’t think so,” Bentley said solemnly, aware that the foxes were on the stairs up to the tower. “I doubt any of them would ever return here.”

“There’s no more Vixen Queen,” Hamish said quickly. “They might never be found.”

Bentley smirked.

“There will always be a Vixen Queen, and she won’t allow her mother to die without being avenged. She will try to hunt them down. For now, I think they’re safe.”

Voices of the foxes began to echo in the stairwell. Hamish turned around nervously.

“Your Majesty…”

“Quickly,” Bentley said, standing at once and yanking Hamish on his arm to a fireplace beneath a mirror. He pressed several ridges on the mantle, and the mirror popped open. Bentley cleared several gimcracks from the mantle and used his paws as a step stool for Hamish to climb into the passage behind the mirror.

“Sir,” Hamish pled, “come with me. There’s hope now.”

“No, Hamish,” Bentley sighed. “I must face Vulpus. The war is lost. Resistance will only lead to more ruin. You need to leave. If Diana Loudoun survived, then you must go to her. Together the two of you can kindle the flame of the resistance. Dark days are ahead.”

Hamish felt a tear rolling down his cheek and pushed it away with his thumb. Bentley looked absolutely crestfallen.

“Sir,” Hamish said earnestly. “They escaped. You have to remember that. Your expedition worked. The heirs have escaped Cartonia.”

Bentley nodded.

“Thank you, Hamish. You have been so good to me. And you’re right. They have escaped. There is hope. They won’t ever return here, but maybe one day, when all the lamps are black and the land is barren of happiness, their heirs will return. If Cartonia is fortunate, and the universe is righteous, then the descendants of our expedition—the children of the free—will voyage home to Cartonia and be our deliverance.”

Hamish gripped the King’s paw.

“Your Majesty…”

“Goodbye, Hamish.”

The mirror closed and locked into place, leaving Hamish in utter darkness. On the other side, Bentley replaced the tchotchkes on the mantle. A minute later, the door burst open.

“King Bentley II,” the vile voice of a fox crowed, “surrender to the Empire of Vulpus.”

Bentley Connelly calmly replied,

“I will not.”

“King Bentley II,” the voice said again, “you are thereby sentenced to death for the premeditated murder of Queen Vixen VII and for the destruction of the Vulpus Dam.”

Hamish pressed his paw into his mouth as he heard the struggle between King and captors as the foxes attempted to arrest the leader of the Granite Bloc. He remained curled in the passageway until after the foxes left with Bentley, until after the sun set, until the King was publicly executed in the courtyard of Highland Castle, until Hamish could hardly breathe anymore.

He followed the passage out of Highland Castle, and out of West Terrier as it fell to Vulpus. He never forgot the final words of the King and his refusal to surrender to evil even when victory was impossible. Hamish told anyone who would listen, long after the War ended.

Centuries later, Hamish’s story provided a foundation of hope to a growing rebellion, and they turned their eyes south, dreaming of a group of royal heirs to venture home to Cartonia and deliver them out of suffering.

## Production

### Continuity and Story Arcs

#### Part One

At the end of “The Good Must Associate,” Bentley Connelly approached Evangelina Connelly for a favor, revealed in this episode to be the surreptitious inclusion of Thumper Connelly on the list of passengers.

In the emotional farewell between Bentley and Thumper Connelly, Bentley mentions the vow he made to Thumper in “No Matter What” to never leave him. He ultimately broke that vow in order to give Thumper a chance of survival.

Porcinia surrendered, and King Bacon IV was executed, along with the rest of the royal family.

Lana Loudoun finally learned of her royal heritage from Maximilian Walters, as foretold in a Diary excerpt from the season 3 episode “Out of the Frying Pan.”

#### Part Two

The destruction of the Vulpus Dam and the escape of the first settlers of Toontown was foreshadowed across the third season. The first mention was in “They Came From the North,” in which it was mentioned the Vixen Queen was killed in the Dam’s destruction. The Dam’s collapse was brought up again in “Countdown,” “Out of the Frying Pan,” and “Into the Fire.”

The scene with Diana watching the remnants of the Dam flood out into the Expanse, ending with her praying that the refugees would survive and never again be touched by a Vixen Queen, is repeated verbatim from “Into the Fire.” This scene opened the third season finale’s episode.

The ending scene with Bentley Connelly and Hamish McRory is repeated verbatim from the end of “Into the Fire.”

The death of the Vixen Queen led to the immediate ascension of her daughter, Violetta Vixen, as Queen Vixen VIII. This event was also foreshadowed in “They Came From the North.”

The assassination of King Bentley II signaled the end of the monarchy in Canis. His death and the fall of Canis left Simeone and Ursus as the only two Granite Bloc countries left in Cartonia.

The final sentence of the episode foreshadows the third and fifth seasons, which sees the reestablishment of contact between Toontown and Cartonia.

### References

Max refers to the "harsh and bitter" decision to leave Cartonia, which are lyrics from "Stay, I Pray You," the song whose lyrics inspired the episode title.

## Trivia

* The title of this episode and its successor "Until I Die" comes from the song "Stay, I Pray You" from the Broadway musical *Anastasia*. The song in the musical is sung by Russians fleeing the new Soviet Union and bidding their homeland farewell: "Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all / I'll **bless my homeland** / till I die."
	+ The line was quoted by Maximilian Walters as the fleeing party passed from Canis into enemy territory: "I will **bless my homeland** forever."
	+ The episodes of the finale were originally going to be titled "Coachmen Hold the Carriage" and "Stay, I Pray You," using lyrics from the same song. It was ultimately changed toward the end of the writing process.
	+ The song "Stay, I Pray You" was used in the finale trailer.
* At 19,508 words, this is the longest episode of Storytime. It surpasses "The Good Must Associate" by 3,922 words.

### Part One

* The farewell scene between Bentley and Thumper Connelly was one of the first scenes of *War* conceived.
* The name of the town of Capricanis is based on Texarkana, Texas, for its close proximity to **Tex**as, **Ark**ansas, and Louisi**ana**.
* The wilderness of Capricon is based on the Badlands of South Dakota.
* Diana’s tale of her pregnancy with Lana was originally much darker, but the author did not like the backstory and changed it.
* The Quiet Road in Vulpus is based on the Loneliest Road in America, located in Nevada.

### Part Two

* The day of the escape is November 11, the same day as Armistice Day, the day World War I ended in 1918.
* Dr. Helen Hoover is named after the Hoover Dam in Nevada.
* Dr. Khnum is a crocodile named after the water god of ancient Egypt: Khnum, which has the head of a crocodile.
* Gloria Berryessa is named after Lake Berryessa in Napa, California, notable for its bell-mouth spillway. Bell-mouths are also called glory holes; hence, Gloria.
* Dr. Andrea Lockington is named after composer Andrew Lockington, whose music inspired the scenes at the Dam.
* The collapse of the Dam as the means by which the first settlers of Toontown escaped Cartonia was a concept devised during the planning of the second season.
* The Dam’s collapse was originally more complex but was rewritten before publication. Several scenes were added as well.
* Matthew Palmer and Diana Loudoun were always intended to be the two figures in the control room when the Dam collapsed, but the four hydrologists were added last-minute to add credibility to why Diana would be present in the control room.
* The repeat of the Bentley/Hamish scene from “Into the Fire” was not in the original first draft of the episode. It was added later to tie the two seasons together.