A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

It was a celestial map, but the usual harmony of stars and lunar phases was disrupted. Lines crisscrossed chaotically, forming jagged patterns that looked more like fractures than constellations.

Tsukuyomi's expression darkened. "That is not how our Celestial heavens chart should look like. Something—or someone—has disrupted the balance."

Agnos frowned. "So, this isn't just about Amaterasu going missing. This could affect the entire celestial order."

"And the mortal realm," Tsukuyomi added grimly. "Without Amaterasu, the sun cannot rise. The world will fall into darkness and chaos."

"Well," I said, trying to sound optimistic despite the sudden lump in my throat, "aren't there a few Sun deities in charge too? Why a missing one would cause chaos?"

"There are countless worlds in this multiverse," Tsukuyomi began, his voice resonating like the soft chime of a distant bell.

"Each deity is responsible for their own domain and realms, working tirelessly to maintain balance. For eons, it was chaos—deities stretched thin, overworked, and teetering on the brink of collapse."

He gestured toward the glowing lunar orbs lining the walls, their light dimming and brightening in a rhythmic pulse.

"But the Creator, in their wisdom, found a solution. To prevent our exhaustion and preserve harmony, Mythica was forged—a realm where all mythological domains could converge, collaborate, and share responsibilities.

Here, the cycles of day and night, the seasons, and even the winds of fortune are maintained through shifts.

Deities now have a balance—a chance to rest and recharge without jeopardizing their domains."

I nodded, absorbing the weight of his words. "Makes sense. Even gods need downtime," I said, leaning back slightly. "But if Amaterasu's missing, that's a major shift gone completely dark. And if the system's this interconnected, it's like a domino effect. One realm falters, and the rest follow."

Tsukuyomi's silver eyes darkened, his tone grave.

"Exactly. A disruption in the shifts causes imbalance. Realms falter, domains weaken, and the threads that bind us begin to unravel.

Should the harmony shatter, the deities will grow discontent. Riots could erupt, realms could fragment, and the multiverse itself would spiral into chaos."

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "A missing deity is no small inconvenience. It is a threat. Amaterasu's absence places not just the sun's cycle in peril but the very structure of Mythica. We cannot afford such a fracture. That is why her disappearance must be resolved swiftly."

I exchanged a glance with Agnos and Jiuge before responding. "We'll do everything we can to help," I said, keeping my tone steady.

"But we'll need full access to any information you have. If there's even the smallest clue, we'll find it."

Agnos nodded in agreement. "And a case like this… it's not just about restoring balance. It's about showing that this system, this unity between realms, works."

"Then, will you grant us permission to visit the Sun Wing?" I asked. "If we're going to find Anaterasu, her palace should be our first stop."

Tsukuyomi's expression softened slightly, though the tension in his posture remained. "You have my full cooperation. Find her, and you may very well save more than just Mythica."

As we prepared to leave, Tsukuyomi handed me a small, crescent-shaped amulet. "This may aid your search," he said. "It is linked to my essence. If you find anything connected to Amaterasu's presence, this will react."

"React how?" I asked, turning it over in my hand.

"You'll know," he said cryptically.

"That's not ominous at all," I muttered under my breath, earning a smirk from Agnos.

As we stepped out of the palace, the weight of the task ahead settled over us.

Amaterasu's disappearance was no simple missing goddess case—it was the tip of an iceberg that could upend the balance of Mythica and beyond.

********

We walked through the Path of Balance, a garden hallway that stretched between the two wings of the palace.

Honestly, "garden" didn't do it justice—it was as though nature had been carefully curated by the gods themselves. Sunflowers taller than me swayed lazily beside delicate white jasmine that seemed to glow faintly, like it had been kissed by moonlight. The air smelled like a dream—floral and fresh with a hint of citrus warmth.

Magical orbs floated between the flowers, their light shifting from gold to blue in a steady rhythm. It was beautiful, but there was an odd weight in the air, as if the garden itself were holding its breath.

At the far end, Amaterasu's Sun Wing loomed, a shining monument to daylight. The roof, made of pure gold, gleamed even in the dim light. The walls fractured the sunlight into a million rainbow pieces, as if the sun had exploded in a burst of light and was frozen in place.

"Amaterasu's palace," Agnos said, pausing to take it all in. "Hikari no Kessho. The Crystal of Light."

"Yeah, it's... a lot of light," I said, squinting. "No wonder they call it that."

I wasn't trying to be snarky—okay, maybe just a little. But honestly, it felt like someone had bottled sunlight and turned it into architecture.

Inside, the Sun Wing was as stunning as the outside, but something was off.

The golden silk tapestries on the walls looked dull, their celestial patterns barely catching the light. The air, warm and fragrant, lacked the usual vibrancy you'd expect from a sun goddess's domain. It was as though the room itself was waiting for someone to return.

At the center was the Solar Sanctum, her personal chamber. The ceiling was an enchanted masterpiece, shifting from soft dawn pastels to fiery sunset reds. A throne, made entirely of sunlight, sat in the middle, encircled by glowing sunflowers.

"It's... empty," I said, my voice a low whisper, as though saying it louder would shatter the stillness.

"It shouldn't be," Jiuge murmured, running his hand along one of the sunflowers. "These should be thriving. They reflect her magic, her vitality."

"Not just hers," Agnos added, his eyes turning toward the windows. "The Sun Wing's energy is linked to her. It's... hollow without her."

Through the windows, the soft, cool light of the Moon Wing—a distant glow from Tsukuyomi's domain—cut through the golden warmth, casting a pale light over the empty palace.