You wake with a soft thump — something light, yet foreign. The morning sunlight filters through your blinds, just like always. Your room is familiar — posters on the wall, books scattered on the floor, a half-open laptop. Nothing seems out of place… until you push yourself up, and your limbs feel different.

You swing your legs off the bed and catch a glimpse of fur instead of skin. Grey fur. Slim but strong. Your heart flutters as you bolt upright, and instinctively sprint to the full-length mirror by the door — because, somehow, you can.

There she is: a rabbit. An anthropomorphic rabbit.

Large purple eyes stare back at you, long ears twitching, a pink nose, light-grey underbelly fur under darker grey, and a sleek, athletic build. Your ears swivel; your tail twitches — tiny, soft.

You don’t just look like someone else. You feel different: senses sharper, reflexes faster. The soft tap of your paw-pads on the wood floor echoes. You breathe in — as though the world’s sounds sharpen.

You remember: Judy Hopps. The rabbit who refused to let stereotypes hold her back. The first bunny to graduate from the Zootopia Police Academy. A citizen from rural Bunnyburrow who dared to become a cop.

This world looks like your old room, but you are Judy — not you.

You take a slow breath. Somewhere inside, your sense of self — your thoughts, memories, fears — remain. But now they inhabit a new body, under new expectations.

You panic. ears flop, hair gripped. You feel light, nimble, capable. Maybe fast enough to outrun a speeding car. Maybe strong enough to scale a fence. Maybe smart enough to puzzle out a crime. You test jumping — you land clean, balanced.

Realisation settles in.

“Okay,” you murmur, voice soft but firm. “this can't get worse...”

You step out of your bed. The worrying day awaits.

Because you’re not just you anymore. You’re Judy Hopps.