A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

Silence fell like a dropped sword.

Agnos was the first to break it. He set down his tea with the kind of grace that usually preceded very bad news. "I see…" he murmured, then leaned back, eyes half-lidded. After a slow, deliberate sip, he added, "I'll pass. Best of luck with the breaking-in part."

What.

"I just remembered," Jiuge chimed in, her tone suddenly a few shades too bright, "I haven't checked on my realm in... oh, a few centuries? Terribly irresponsible of me, really."

She started pretending to pack things on her desk that didn't exist, tails flicking so anxiously that one nearly toppled her chair.

My head swiveled to Heim, who met my gaze with all the expression of someone watching a doomed ship drift into a storm. Without a word, he swung his warhammer into the dummy—still adorned with my face—and sent it crashing across the room.

"I'm with Agnos," he said simply.

I blinked at the three of them. "Seriously?"

A chorus of unimpressed expressions met me. Gods—literal gods—looking at me like I'd just asked them to jump into a volcano for fun.

"This is not the reaction I was expecting," I said, genuinely baffled. "Don't you want to help get Vorta out?"

Agnos raised a brow. "It would be nice. Sure. But storming the Eternal Prison isn't going to get him out. That's not how it works. And I prefer to be alive, regardless."

Jiuge nodded, her usual brightness dimmed with something close to real concern. "We'd be lucky to make it past the first threshold. The Oath still binds us, Carl. That place doesn't just keep prisoners in—it keeps divine meddling out. Violently."

I turned to Heim for a last shred of hope.

He just shrugged. "They're not wrong."

Spineless, warhammer-happy, brother-worshipping wolf god. What was even the point of him sticking around if he wasn't going to back me up on this?

I squared my shoulders. My voice dropped lower, more certain.

"What if I told you… there's a way we could survive it?"

Agnos gave me a long, flat look. The kind reserved for mortals who made statements like "I can survive the Eternal Prison" before immediately becoming legends for the worst reasons.

He set down his tea. "Carl. That place is called eternal for a reason."

"And prison," Heim added helpfully, swinging his warhammer over one shoulder like he was prepping to crush more of my dignity.

I ignored him and turned to Jiuge. "You've broken into worse places. Besides, Eternal Prison was not a prison in the first place!"

"That's not the point." She pouted, fox ears drooping slightly as one of her nine tails coiled around her waist like a nervous scarf. "Breaking in is easy. Surviving the inside is where things get messy. You're not dealing with guard dogs and alarms in there. You're dealing with sentient walls that consume thoughts. Rooms that shift timelines. One wrong thought and poof—your soul turns into abstract poetry."

"I like poetry," I muttered weakly.

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Then you'll love being rewritten as a tragic metaphor."

Agnos crossed one leg over the other, steepling his fingers. "Assuming you're not speaking from desperation—which, by the way, you absolutely are—how exactly do you plan to 'survive' this?"

Heim deadpanned, "Right. And let's not forget the part where the Emperor War Beasts will go berserk and vaporize us all the moment they whiff your scent. Sounds fun."

I leaned forward, resting both hands on the table, channeling every ounce of conviction I didn't feel. "I've been doing research. Studying Emperor War Beasts. Understanding their origins, the way theythink, and, the way they feel. I've connected with one."

Heim snorted. "You connected with a creature that's survived multiple apocalypses by eating celestial rot for breakfast?"

"I'm serious." I pointed at my chest. "I was in Nian. One of the Emperor War Beast. Not metaphorically. Not in a dream. I relived its memory. I felt everything it felt. Its sorrow. Its love for humanity. Its urge to protect even when everyone feared it."

For a moment, the room went still.

Agnos stared at me like he was seeing something he didn't expect. "You... touched the memory of a Divine Emperor War Beast?"

"It touched me first," I said. "And it didn't kill me."

"That's worse," Heim muttered. "That means it likes you."

Jiuge tilted her head, thoughtful now. "If that's true… then you've bonded with an entity outside the usual channels of mortal-divine interaction. That's rare. Dangerous. And deeply weird."

"Welcome to my life," I deadpanned.

Agnos exhaled. "Still. Even if one of them didn't kill you, that doesn't mean you can stroll into the Eternal Prison and charm your way through it like some divine caretaker with a clipboard and good intentions."

"I'm not planning to charm my way through," I said. "I'm planning to understand what's waiting inside. To speak to the ones who still have a conscience. The ones like Nian, who aren't just weapons—they're survivors. Beings shaped by grief and purpose. I've seen it. I felt it. If we go in with force, we die. But if I go in with empathy…"

"You still probably die," Heim offered.

"…but maybe not immediately," I finished, ignoring him.

Jiuge tapped her finger on the edge of the desk, thoughtful. "You're saying their weakness isn't physical."

"It's emotional. Cognitive. Existential," I said. "They're not mindless beasts. They're what's left of ruined worlds trying not to let it happen again. If we can connect with that…"

Agnos let out a long sigh, brushing a strand of purple hair behind one ear. "You're staking a lot on a theory built out of emotional trauma and unfounded sentimentality."

"Welcome to literally every major divine war ever," Jiuge said brightly.

Heim groaned. "Okay. Fine. Say we buy into this lunatic mission. You think you can talk your way past ancient prison defenses, reality-warping seals, and four Emperor War Beasts that make even us gods look like teacup pets?"

I smiled.

"Oh, absolutely not. That's why I'm taking you three with me."

A unified groan erupted from across the room.

Agnos pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realize that if this fails, you won't just die. You'll be erased. All of us. Wiped from time. Like an ink blot on a divine manuscript."

"Then I guess I better make it worth the risk," I said, grabbing my notes and tapping them on the desk. "Because if there's even the slightest chance we can reach them—if Vorta's really struggling in there—then I'm not just sitting around waiting for Mythica to fall like the others."

Another long pause.

Then—Jiuge sighed.

"…I'll prep a shadow cloak and anti-time distortion incense. But if my tails burn off in the process, I'm haunting you."

Agnos stood slowly, adjusting his robes with the air of a man headed to his own trial. "I'll go. But only to observe. If this turns into divine suicide, I'm not writing your eulogy."

Heim lifted his warhammer again with a heavy grunt. "Let's just get this over with before I change my mind. Again."

I grinned, victorious—exhausted, but fired up.

"Alright. Team Eternally Screwed," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Let's plan a prison break."

"Well, hearing you say that just confirms it—we're eternally screwed," Jiuge sighed, dramatically flicking one of her tails like she was signing off her own obituary.