It's official, I've made it past probation.
Eldrin sent me a congratulatory message this morning, and I'm not going to lie. I did a little fist pump when no one was looking.
I've survived dragon mischief, unicorn lunch thieves, and all the daily chaos that comes with working at MECCP. Finally, it's time for the real work. The kind I'd been dreaming of when I first applied here—research. Habitat studies. Conservation projects. The stuff that makes my zoologist heart flutter.
Eldrin's message detailed that I'd be reassigned to the Habitat Research Program under the mentorship of Dr. Philippe, a senior researcher with a reputation for no-nonsense efficiency. I was thrilled. Dr. Philippe's name was practically legendary among the MECCP—a brilliant, if slightly eccentric, researcher with a knack for groundbreaking studies.
Today felt like my big break.
When I arrived at the MECCP Center for Research and Monitoring Programs, I could barely contain my excitement. It was all shiny glass doors and pristine labs. I'd always imagined myself working in a place like this, surrounded by cutting-edge tech and fellow conservationists.
I was promptly directed to Dr. Philippe's office, which was… well, less of an office and more of a disaster zone. Papers were scattered everywhere, covering the floor, sofa, and desk. There was barely room to stand, let alone sit. As I hesitated at the door, I wondered if I'd accidentally walked into the wrong place.
"Erm, excuse me? Dr. Philippe?" I asked, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
A head popped up from behind a stack of research papers. Dr. Philippe, a middle-aged man with glasses perched precariously on his nose, squinted at me. "You must be the intern. My new research assistant."
"Uh, yes. Carl Suis." I gave a little nod, hoping to sound professional.
"Great!" he exclaimed, waving a hand dismissively as he rifled through more papers. "Pack your bags, we're heading straight to Atlantis today."
I blinked. Atlantis? As in, the Atlantis? The underwater city of legend? I had to bite back a grin. This was beyond anything I'd expected. I mean, I knew MECCP had operations all over Mythica, but Atlantis?
"Yes, sir!" I said, trying to hide my excitement as I mentally prepared myself for the adventure of a lifetime.
Dr. Philippe barely glanced up. "Good. We're leaving in ten."
Our journey started in a buggy—one that, to my disappointment and surprised, didn't fly. It rolled along the road like any ordinary vehicle. As I tried to process my excitement and confusion, I glanced over at Dr. Philippe. "Um, sir, why isn't this buggy flying?"
He gave me a look like I'd just asked the world's stupidest question. "Didn't you read the manual? The buggy can switch between Fly mode and Land mode. I hope you're not like that noob staffer who went viral for using a flying buggy on an dragon infested air."
I forced a laugh. "Ha-ha, no, just curious. Some people might prefer to fly for the view."
"That would be stupid," Dr. Philippe said bluntly. "Plenty of carnivorous creatures flying around Mythica. You don't want to end up as their meal, do you?"
I decided to keep my questions to myself after that.
When we finally arrived, I nearly tripped over my own feet. Atlantis stood before us, but… it wasn't what I expected. There were no waves, no aquatic magic sweeping through the air. It was a massive, sprawling city—on land.
There, stretching before me, was a vast expanse of land that looked like something torn out of a nightmare.
A massive crater sprawled out, its edges ragged and uneven. The ground was a patchwork of thick mud and scattered puddles, each one glistening in the faint light like a dark mirror. The whole scene felt like something out of a dream—or maybe a nightmare.
In the distance—Atlantis. The city rose from the crater like a glittering jewel, its towering spires cutting into the sky.
What really made my breath catch, though, was the shimmering shield surrounding the city. It wasn't just a barrier; it was alive, pulsing with energy, casting a soft light that seemed to ripple through the air. It was as if Atlantis was breathing, protected by this magical force, untouched by the world outside.
I couldn't help but stand there for a moment, stunned by the sight, feeling both awestruck, confused, and a little small in comparison. But mostly, I felt a little disappointed.
"Uh, Dr. Philippe? Isn't Atlantis supposed to be, you know, underwater?"
He sighed like I was testing his patience. "It usually is, but this season is not high tide. The water recedes, and it allows MECCP to access the city for research purposes."
I stared at the city, feeling my dreams of an underwater adventure crumble. Sure, Atlantis was still huge, and the architecture was stunning, but… it was landlocked. Reality, once again, had taken a swing at my expectations.
"So much for swimming with mermaids," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?" Dr. Philippe asked, though he sounded too disinterested to care.
"Nothing," I said quickly.
The city itself was overwhelming. Bright lights, towering buildings, and an odd mix of ancient columns and modern tech.
But what caught my attention the most were the billboard signs plastered everywhere. "Coral Reefs Theme Park" read one, with a flashy picture of Mermaid tourists posing with glowing corals.
Another promoted "Mythigram-Worthy Coral Reefs," urging visitors to get their perfect shot for the popular social media platform.
Dr. Philippe scowled at the signs as we made our way through the streets. "This is what we're here to address. The coral reefs around Atlantis are on the brink of extinction, and these so-called 'attractions' are responsible."
We made our way to the Atlantis City Council building—a towering structure adorned with golden statues and coral motifs. Inside, we were led into a grand chamber filled with council members, most of whom looked more like business tycoons than politicians. Their suits were tailored, their hair perfect, and their smiles—fake.
Dr. Philippe didn't waste time. He launched into a presentation about the damage being done to the coral reefs and how it threatened the entire aquatic ecosystem.
He explained that without the reefs, many species could go extinct, and even Atlantis itself could face dire consequences.
But the council members didn't look impressed. One of them, a slick-looking merfolk with a silver watch, leaned back in his chair. "We understand the concern, Dr. Philippe, but the people love the coral reef attractions. They're our biggest draw. It's good business."
"Good business?" Dr. Philippe's voice rose. "Without the reefs, your entire ecosystem collapses! You'll have no business to protect."
The council members exchanged glances. "We'll consider your proposal," said the merfolk, his smile thin. "If you can provide an alternative that matches the popularity and profit of the current attractions, we might be willing to negotiate."
With that, we were dismissed.
Outside the chamber, Dr. Philippe looked ready to explode. "Fools! All they care about is profit, not the environment!"
I was still trying to process everything. "So… they won't listen unless we give them a better idea?"
"Exactly." Dr. Philippe sighed, rubbing his temples. "And until then, they'll keep letting tourists trample over the coral reefs for their 'perfect photos.'"
I felt a knot form in my stomach. I had been excited about coming to Atlantis, thinking it was some mythical paradise, but now… it felt like a corrupted tourist trap. "We need to figure this out, right? We can't just let the coral reefs die."
Dr. Philippe's eyes softened, and for the first time, he didn't look like the grumpy professor I'd pegged him as. "That's why you're here, Carl. We need fresh ideas. If we can find a solution, we might have a chance to save this place."
As we walked back through the bustling streets of Atlantis, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be harder than I imagined. Every street corner had another ad for coral tours or selfie stations. People were posing, oblivious to the damage they were causing.
I pulled out my mythical phone and opened Mythigram, scrolling through post after post of tourists posing with the reefs.
One video, in particular, caught my eye—a music video from the PinkCorals, the mermaid pop band that practically everyone in Mythica idolized.
In it, they danced through the coral reefs, the lighting and special effects making the corals shimmer in neon colors. It had millions of views.
"Looks like we found our culprit," I muttered, showing the video to Dr. Philippe.
His eyes narrowed. "The PinkCorals… of course. Their influence is everywhere."
I nodded, determination setting in. "If they're the ones hyping up the coral reefs, maybe they're also the key to saving them."
The question was—how could I, a lowly intern, convince the most popular band in Mythica to help?
I guess that's my next task.