A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

Well, a version of me. Younger, cockier, and oozing disdain.

"You thought you could make a difference?" he spat. "You're just a guy with a useless degree and no clue what he's doing."

"Hey, that's not—" I paused. "Okay, that's kind of true, but still!"

Another specter took shape, this one resembling my old boss. "You were never cut out for this, Carl. You don't belong here. You'll never succeed."

The voices piled on, each one dredging up insecurities I'd buried deep.

For a moment, I wanted to believe them. But then I remembered the journey that had brought me here—the trials, the creatures, the moments of triumph against all odds.

"You call this surviving?" Younger Me sneered. "Tripping over your own feet and relying on a cat for guidance? Pathetic."

More shadows emerged. My old boss materialized, arms crossed and radiating disappointment. "I told you this dream of yours was ridiculous. Look where it got you—lost in the underworld, barely scraping by."

Each figure threw my insecurities at me like daggers. Failures. Regrets. The fear that I was just...insignificant.

The final shadow towered over the others: a monstrous, twisted version of me, its hollow eyes boring into my soul.

"You can't win," it growled. "You're nothing."

I clenched my fists, heart pounding. The doubts were suffocating, but I couldn't let them win.

"Maybe I'm not perfect," I said, my voice trembling but firm. "Maybe I've screwed up more times than I can count. But I've made it this far, and I'm not giving up now."

The shadows wavered, then shattered like glass. The final fragment appeared in my hand, warm and solid.

A jolt shot through my hand like a static shock, but ten times more intense. My fingers tingled as I grasped the shimmering object, and suddenly, the world around me blurred.

The banquet hall, the glowing lights, even Lord Mictlan's ominous presence—all of it dissolved into darkness. For a moment, I was weightless, adrift in a void of swirling shadows and faint whispers.

And then, with a flash of light, a scene unfolded before me.

I was back in a cramped lecture hall at Mythica University—one I'd never seen before, yet felt strangely familiar.

The seats were filled with a mix of students: some humanoid, others distinctly not.

A manticore in a preppy sweater lounged in the front row, while a siren with shimmering scales argued with a towering yeti over the best way to present a group project.

At the center of it all stood a figure—me. But this wasn't the Carl Suis of now, fumbling through magical messes and barely surviving creature-related disasters.

This version of me was confident, commanding. I wore a green and brown uniform, polished and pristine, with an air of authority that seemed impossible to fake.

Future me gestured to a massive projection of a phoenix, its fiery wings frozen mid-flight.

"The key to maintaining a phoenix's habitat," he said, voice steady, "is understanding the balance between its regenerative flames and the surrounding ecosystem. Too much fire, and you've got a scorched wasteland. Too little, and the phoenix risks extinction."

The class hung on every word, scribbling notes furiously. Even the manticore looked impressed.

"What…?" I muttered, watching in awe.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" a familiar voice purred beside me.

I turned to find Agnos floating casually in the void, looking utterly unbothered by the fact that we were apparently witnessing some bizarre memory—or vision?

"This is your potential," Agnos said, his golden eyes gleaming. "The Carl Suis who finally gets his act together. Impressive, isn't he?"

"I—wait, this is real? That's me?" I pointed at the projection of my confident doppelgänger, who had now moved on to explaining the proper care techniques for baby dragons.

"Or it could be you," Agnos clarified with a smirk. "Depends on whether you survive your next few blunders. But hey, no pressure."

The scene shimmered, flickering like a dying lightbulb. My future self turned, just for a moment, and looked directly at me. There was a glint of recognition in his eyes, as if he knew I was watching.

And then, just like that, the vision shattered.

The room returned to normal, and Mictlan clapped slowly, the sound echoing like thunder.

"Few mortals could endure such trials," he said. "You are stronger than you realize, Carl Suis."

I collapsed into a chair, exhausted. "Thanks. Do I get a certificate or something?"

Agnos snickered. "You get to live. For now. Isn't that enough?"

"Barely."

The fragment glowed faintly in my hand, the strange marking on its surface pulsing like a heartbeat.

"What just happened?" I whispered, looking at Agnos.

The smug cat appeared on the table beside me, tail flicking lazily. "You unlocked another memory fragment," he said, his tone annoyingly casual. "Congratulations. You're one step closer to figuring out why you're here. Maybe."

"Wait, that's what these fragments are for?" I stared at the object in my hand, my mind racing.

Agnos yawned, stretching languidly. "Oh, don't act so surprised. Did you really think these quests were just to retrieve my powers?"

"Honestly, yes!" I shot back.

Lord Mictlan, who had been observing quietly, chuckled. "The fragments hold pieces of your destiny, Carl Suis. Each one reveals truths you have long forgotten… or perhaps, truths you've yet to realize."

I frowned, turning the fragment over in my hands. "So, what happens when I collect all of them?"

Mictlan's skeletal grin widened. "That," he said ominously, "is a question only you can answer."

As I caught my breath, I noticed something strange on the fragment—a marking that hadn't been there before.

"What's this?" I asked, holding it up.

Agnos's eyes gleamed. "All in due time, Carl. Enjoy the calm while it lasts."

Agnos hopped off the table and started sauntering toward the door. "Come along, Carl. We've had enough existential revelations for one evening. Besides, you'll need your strength for whatever chaos awaits us next."

I followed reluctantly, the fragment still pulsing faintly in my grip.

Whatever the future held, I knew one thing for sure—I was far from done unraveling the mysteries of Mythica—and myself.