A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

I woke with a sharp gasp, my body jerking upright.

My head throbbed like I'd been hit with a brick.

My vision blurred for a moment before steadying, and I realized I was lying on the stone floor of the Diyu court.

I groaned, the throb in my skull flaring.

My limbs felt like lead, and the lingering haze from the vision clung to my mind like cobwebs.

My heart was hammering so hard it hurt, and sweat slicked my skin despite the cool air around me.

I turned my head to see the smug purple-furred creature lounging lazily nearby.

Agnos was sitting nearby, grooming his fur. He licked his paw with an air of indifference that felt like a personal insult.

When he saw me awake, he yawned, flashing sharp little teeth before flicking his tail lazily.

"Finally," Agnos muttered, his voice like sandpaper scraping my nerves. "You're up," he said, his tone utterly uninterested.

I groaned, rubbing my temples as I tried to shake off the lingering ache. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," he replied. "Though long enough for you to make a spectacle of yourself. The court spectators found it entertaining."

I glanced around, and sure enough, a few passersby were giving me puzzled looks. However, the moment their eyes landed on Agnos, they hurried away without a word.

I pushed myself to my feet, brushing off my clothes. "What... just happened?" I asked hoarsely.

Agnos didn't bother looking at me as he replied. "You absorbed another fragment. Welcome back, by the way. You've been lying there like a collapsed scarecrow for a while now. It was embarrassing to watch."

I ignored the jab, my mind racing back to the vision. The figure by the lake—me but not me. His cryptic words echoed in my head: "I had to do what I had to do."

Shaking off the thought, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Sixth fragment. It pulsed faintly, almost like it was alive. Reluctantly, I handed it to Agnos.

"Here," I said.

As usual, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed without ceremony. By now, I was used to the bizarre sight of a magical cat consuming ancient fragments of power.

But this time, something was different.

Agnos's fur began to glow, a soft purple light radiating from his sleek coat. His golden eyes shone brighter, the intensity almost blinding. The glow didn't fade immediately like before—it lingered, building, until his entire form seemed to vibrate with energy.

"Agnos?" I took a cautious step back. "You good?"

He didn't answer right away. His body tensed, his tail swishing rapidly as if he were trying to shake off whatever was happening.

Then, with a sharp exhale, the glow dimmed, and his eyes returned to their usual piercing gold.

"Well," he said, his voice slightly strained. "That was... unexpected."

"What just happened?" I asked, my heart still pounding.

Agnos tilted his head, his gaze distant as if he were processing something.

"The fragments are growing stronger. Each one I absorb brings me closer to being whole. But this one... this one carried something extra."

"Extra?" I pressed.

"Agnos," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "What are these fragments really showing me?"

"Memories," he said, finally glancing up from his grooming. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light, unreadable as always. "But whose? Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

"I saw myself," I blurted out, unable to contain it. "Or someone who looked like me. But he wasn't... me. He said something—something that didn't make any sense."

Agnos tilted his head, his ears twitching as though he were contemplating whether to humor me. "Care to elaborate, or are you just going to flail in existential confusion?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to organize my thoughts. "He said he had to do something. That he was sorry. And then everything just—" I made a vague gesture, "—disappeared."

For once, Agnos didn't respond with a snarky remark. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing slightly, as though weighing his next words.

"Fragments aren't just pieces of my power," Agnos said, his voice casual. "They're pieces of history. Maybe it could also be yours, who knows."

I froze, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut. "Mine? What do you mean mine?"

"You're the one seeing these visions, not me," he said, flicking his tail dismissively. "Maybe the fragments are trying to tell you something."

I stared at him, my mind racing. The figure by the lake—me, but not me. His words echoed in my head again. "I had to do what I had to do."

"I suppose what you're experiencing is not surprising," Agnos said, breaking my thoughts, his tone uncharacteristically subdued. "The fragments aren't just pieces of power—they're pieces of time, memory, and will. Yours, mine, and perhaps... something greater."

I frowned, my frustration mounting. "Can you please stop speaking in riddles for once? I'm tired of being left in the dark."

Agnos sighed, rising to his feet and stretching lazily. "The answers you want are buried in the fragments, Carl. All of them. You've only scratched the surface. But the more you uncover, the closer you'll come to understanding who—or what—those memories are."

"What do you mean who?" I echoed, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

I couldn't stop myself. My mind buzzed with a thousand questions, but the one that kept pushing to the front, that gnawed at me like an itch I couldn't scratch, was the one I had to ask.

"Agnos," I began, trying to keep my voice steady despite the weight of everything that had happened in the last few minutes, "where do your powers come from?"

He looked at me for a moment, his golden eyes almost too calm, too guarded for my liking. For a moment, I thought he might just shrug it off and toss me a cryptic response like he always did.

But instead, his ears twitched slightly, and I could sense something change in the air.

"It's simple," he said with a nonchalant shrug, his tail flicking behind him. "From our creator, of course. The one who made Mythica, the world, and... well, everything else."

The words hung in the air, but there was something about the way he said it, something in his tone that felt off. His usual bravado, the easy arrogance that always seemed to make everything sound like a joke, wasn't there.

I took a step forward, narrowing my eyes. "What do you mean, our creator? And why does it sound like you're holding something back?"

He stiffened, just for a fraction of a second—so quick that, if I wasn't paying attention, I would've missed it.

But I was paying attention, and I saw it.

Something in him shifted, like a door opening just a crack, revealing a dark hallway I wasn't sure I wanted to walk down.

"Let it go, Carl," Agnos muttered, but his voice lacked its usual edge. It was almost... tired? "It's not important."

I wasn't going to let him off that easy.

The whole point of this journey—hell, my reason for being here—was to understand what was really going on. To uncover the truth.

And if Agnos knew something, if he held answers that could explain all of this, then I was going to get them out of him.

I took another step closer, watching him closely. "Agnos, I know when you're holding back. You wouldn't be acting like this if you didn't have something to say. So, what is it? Who is the creator? Why do you keep acting like you're... scared of something?"

Agnos let out a slow breath, like the air was thick with something he didn't want to breathe. His golden eyes flickered briefly toward the sky, then back down at me.

The usual teasing glint was gone, replaced by something far more complex—something almost... sad.

"We don't talk about him," Agnos finally said, his voice quieter now, almost distant. "We're not supposed to. It's... a rule."

"Who's 'we'?" I pressed, my frustration mounting. "Who made these rules? Why does it feel like you're all just following something you don't understand?"

"You want answers, Carl?" he said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. "I can give you all the answers you want. But that doesn't mean you'll understand them when you get them."

I stared at him, fighting the urge to explode. I wanted to shout, to demand that he tell me everything, but something held me back.

Maybe it was the sadness in his voice, or the faint shadow in his eyes that suggested he had no more answers than I did.

Maybe, just maybe, Agnos himself was as much in the dark as I was.

For a long moment, neither of us said anything. The world around us was strangely silent, as if it, too, were waiting for something to break.

Finally, I let out a breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. I was starting to realize something—something that made my gut twist.

There were no easy answers.

There was no one handing me the truth on a silver platter. This world, Mythica, the fragments, everything—it was all connected in ways I couldn't even begin to understand.

And maybe the answers weren't something I could just grab by shaking the right person.

"I won't get the answers now, will I? Maybe I never will..." I trailed off slowly.