A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

I mounted Plushie, the Cerberus, who was now my unexpected guide, his massive paws thudding softly against the obsidian floor.

His fur was strangely soft beneath my fingers, but the weight of the moment hung over me, sharpening every sound, every shift of the atmosphere.

The hallway before me stretched long and winding, the obsidian walls reflecting dim, flickering light, casting eerie shadows that seemed to reach for me.

It was like walking through a dream—one where I was never sure whether I was moving forward or falling deeper into some endless abyss.

My grip tightened on the Invitational Key, its cold surface sending a shiver down my spine. The key felt like a weight of destiny in my hand, its intricate patterns glowing faintly in the dim light, pulsing like a heart of its own.

I'd earned this key, but not without cost. It had drained me, in ways that weren't just physical.

The trials had been brutal, each one taking a piece of me that I wasn't sure I'd get back. But I wasn't here for me.

Mythica's balance teetered on the edge of destruction, and I knew the answers I needed were somewhere in the depths of Domos Haidou.

Somewhere with Hades.

If I could get to him.

We turned a corner, and at the end of the passage, a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall, cloaked in darkness, with eyes that seemed to pierce through the very air between us.

The Gatekeeper.

I dismounted from Plushie, who obediently sat down. Its tongue hung out, as if in a very good mood.

"Who dares approach the gates of the Sovereign of the Dead?"

The voice struck me like a whip—low, deep, and resonant, vibrating through the air and into my chest. It threaded through my mind, a whisper that grew louder with each heartbeat.

The Gatekeeper was not a being in the traditional sense. It was more a presence—fluid, ever-changing, like the very embodiment of twilight.

The shape before me flickered between light and shadow, a cloak that rippled and bled into the air around it. Its face was a formless void, save for two blinding pinpricks of light that pierced through the darkness, locking onto me.

I straightened my back, trying to steady my breath.

This wasn't how I imagined meeting Hades—or anyone in his court for that matter. Still, I knew I had to keep my cool.

"Carl Suis. I'm from the MECCP," I said, my voice firm but carrying an undercurrent of uncertainty. "I've come to accept an audience with Hades."

The Gatekeeper's head tilted slightly, an unnatural motion that made my skin crawl. It savored the silence before it spoke, its voice twisting in the air like smoke.

"An audience with the Lord of the Dead is not granted lightly, mortal. You hold the key, but that is not enough. It is customary to wager something of immense value. What will you offer?"

I blinked, the weight of its words sinking in.

I was invited, right? I'd earned the right to pass through the trials and finally stand before Hades. But here, in this strange realm, nothing was as simple as it seemed.

The invitation meant little when it came to the Gatekeeper. Wagers were part of the deal, whether you were invited or not.

I stepped forward, my thoughts racing.

What could I offer?

My possessions, my skills, my knowledge—none of it felt like it held true value here.

The pressure of the moment began to cloud my mind.

The Gatekeeper's hollow gaze never wavered, its voice hissing with an edge of impatience. "You hesitate. Your doubt is as loud as your words."

I gritted my teeth, trying to focus.

And then it hit me.

This wasn't about material things or status.

It was about why I was here. What drove me to stand in this shadowy, cursed place.

I squared my shoulders and took a breath.

"I offer my purpose."

The air around us seemed to freeze, the shadows flickering as though they'd come alive. The Gatekeeper's gaze narrowed, the pinpricks of light within its face flickering like distant stars. "Your purpose?"

"Yes," I replied steadily, the words feeling right. "I'm not here for fame, or glory, or reward. I've seen what's happening to Mythica—the corruption, the imbalance. The creatures I've spent my life protecting are in danger, and someone has to stand up for them. Even if it costs everything."

The Gatekeeper was still, so still that I began to wonder if it had heard me at all. The silence stretched long, an uncomfortable weight pressing down on my chest. I forced myself to breathe, holding my ground.

Then, slowly, the darkness seemed to shift, the pinpricks of light softening, widening—almost as if... approval?

"Your purpose is... pure," the Gatekeeper intoned. "A rarity in this world of greed."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. The Gatekeeper's shadowy form flickered again before dissolving into mist, the ethereal presence vanishing as if it had never been there.

With a final, deafening groan, the massive obsidian doors behind it creaked open. The sound echoed through the silence like the splitting of the earth itself.

I stepped forward, my heart hammering, the key still tight in my grip. One hurdle down. But I knew this was just the beginning.

The throne room of Hades was unlike anything I'd imagined.

The space seemed suspended in nothingness, with the three regions of the underworld—Elysium, Tartarus, and the Asphodel Meadows—visible in the distance, like fractured mirrors reflecting three distinct realities. The floor beneath me was smooth obsidian, its surface glowing faintly with veins of molten gold.

At the far end of the room, atop a towering dais, sat Hades.

He was every bit as imposing as the myths described.

Draped in a robe of shadow and flame, his form was both regal and otherworldly. His eyes burned like twin suns, and his presence was suffocating, as though the weight of eternity pressed down on you just by being in his presence.

The throne he occupied was carved from black stone, jagged and alive with flickering embers.

As I approached, I felt the weight of his gaze settle on me, cold and calculating.