Just when I thought we were done for, the scale that Sweet Tooth's mother gave me suddenly flew from my backpack. It glowed brightly, floating in the air like it had just remembered it was magical.
Before any of us could react, it darted toward the safe. In a matter of seconds, it absorbed the magic emanating from the metal contraption.
We stood there, dumbfounded.
"What… was that?" Fiona asked, her voice a mixture of awe and suspicion.
I blinked at her, still processing. "Err… that's the dragon scale Sweet Tooth's mother gave me. Supposedly a communicator to report Sweet Tooth's well-being. Or at least, I think it's a communicator? I totally forgot I even had it," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.
"Queen Isadora's scale?" Dr. Philippe sounded surprised, his usual cool demeanor slipping.
I tilted my head. "Queen who now?"
"Sweet Tooth's mother," Philippe clarified, giving me a pointed look. "She's Queen Isadora, the matriarch of the royal dragon clan."
"Oh." My voice went an octave higher. "Nobody told me that! I just thought she was a regular dragon."
Philippe snorted. "And yet she trusted you with her scale? Fascinating. She doesn't trust anyone. Especially someone with your face."
I frowned. "What's wrong with my face?"
Fiona muffled a laugh. "It's just… expressive."
Philippe ignored me, gesturing toward the safe. "Anyway, it looks like the scale absorbed the magic."
We all inched closer, cautious yet curious. I carefully grabbed the scale, which had dimmed back to its normal state, and tucked it back into my backpack. That's when we heard it—a soft crack.
The safe trembled.
"What's happening?" Fiona whispered, clutching Philippe's arm.
Before anyone could answer, the safe burst open with an ear-splitting clang. We scrambled backward, bracing ourselves for some horrific magical beast.
Instead, a purple blur shot out of the broken safe and launched itself onto my face.
I yelped, flailing wildly. "Get it off! Get it off!"
"Carl, stop moving!" Fiona shouted.
But I was too busy panicking, convinced that another creature was trying to eat me—again. Then it meowed.
I froze. Slowly, I reached up and felt… fur?
I carefully peeled the creature off my face and held it in front of me. It was a cat. A purple one.
"Oh, it's a cute cat!" I cooed, stroking its incredibly soft fur. "Why are you purple, though? You're like a magical grape."
The cat purred, nuzzling into my hand like we'd been best friends for years.
Dr. Philippe and Fiona, however, looked like they'd seen a ghost.
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.
"Carl…" Fiona's voice trembled. "Put that creature down. Slowly."
"Why?" I asked, still petting the cat. "It's just a cat. I mean, yeah, the color's weird, but this is Mythica. Weird is kind of the baseline here."
"No, Carl." Philippe's voice was sharp. "That's not a cat. That's… the Unknown God."
Let me preface this by saying I've faced a lot of weird stuff in Mythica— singing mermaids, a Kraken with a dance routine, Coralites that waged symphony wars.
But cradling what was apparently the Unknown God—currently in cat form—might just take the mythical cake.
"It's just a cat," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I looked down at the purple ball of fluff snoozing in my arms. Its tiny chest rose and fell in a rhythmic purr, and for a moment, I almost forgot the bombshell Fiona and Dr. Philippe had just dropped on me.
"That's not a cat," Philippe hissed, his voice trembling. "That's an entity of unimaginable power. Put it down. Carefully."
I tightened my hold, clutching the sleepy feline like a lifeline. "You're saying this—this adorable purple furball—is the Unknown God?"
"Yes," Fiona whispered, her eyes darting between me and the creature like she expected it to explode any second. "And if the legends are true, it could destroy us all."
The cat yawned lazily, flashing a set of sharp, glinting teeth, and I felt my blood run cold. Its golden eyes flickered open just long enough to glance at me before closing again, completely unbothered by the growing panic in the room.
"Right," I said, swallowing hard. "So, hypothetically, if I've been petting a god for the past minute… what's the worst that could happen?"
Fiona paled even further. "Unmaking of reality?"
"Immediate smiting?" Philippe offered.
The cat stretched, its claws gently kneading the fabric of my jacket, and let out a contented little chirp. Not exactly godlike behavior. More like something my old tabby, Socks, used to do.
I blinked at them. "You're serious?"
"Yes!" they said in unison.
*****
We all stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the air thick with tension. The only sound was the gentle hum of the broken safe and the occasional purr from the cat/god/harbinger of doom in my arms. Finally, I broke the silence.
"So… what's the plan here? Because I'm not just going to toss it on the ground like an old shoe."
Philippe rubbed his temples. "We need to contain it. Safely. Without triggering its powers."
"Great idea," I said brightly. "How do you contain a god?"
Fiona shot me a withering look. "We could try using Queen Isadora's scale again. It absorbed the magic from the safe— maybe it can keep the Unknown God's essence suppressed."
"Suppressed?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's purring, Fiona. Not summoning apocalyptic storms."
"Yet," she muttered darkly.
I reluctantly dug the shimmering dragon scale out of my backpack. The cat stirred as the scale caught the light, its golden eyes snapping open and fixing on the object.
For a moment, I felt a pulse of energy, like a ripple passing through the air. The cat—or rather, the Unknown God—tilted its head curiously before reaching out a paw to bat at the scale.
"It's playing with it," I said, my voice flat. "The almighty Unknown God is playing with a dragon scale like a yarn ball."
Philippe's voice was sharp. "Don't let it take the scale! If it absorbs that power—"
Too late.
The cat swiped the scale from my hand, clutching it like a prized treasure. I braced myself for an explosion, a burst of magic, or at least some ominous chanting.
Instead, the cat curled up around the scale and went right back to sleep.
*****
We stared at the cat for a full minute.
"So…" I began, breaking the silence. "If it's asleep, does that mean we're safe?"
Philippe shook his head. "We can't be sure. Gods don't adhere to mortal logic. Its current form might be benign, but its powers are still intact."
"Right," I said, nodding slowly. "So basically, it's like holding a grenade that could go off at any second."
"Exactly," Fiona said, her voice grim. "And we can't leave it here. If anyone else finds out about this—"
"Got it," I said quickly. "Top-secret cat god. No problem. I'll just—uh—what? Take it home?"
Philippe stared at me like I'd just suggested juggling live dynamite. "You can't possibly be serious."
"What else am I supposed to do?" I shot back. "Leave it in the lab? What if it wakes up hungry? Are we going to feed it tuna and hope it doesn't obliterate the building?"
"Carl, this is not your responsibility," Fiona said, her tone gentler now. "We should contact the Council. They'll know how to handle this."
I snorted. "Oh, sure. The same Council that wanted to exile a Kraken for dancing too enthusiastically? I'm not exactly brimming with confidence in their god-containment strategies."
As we argued, the cat stirred again, lifting its head to blink lazily at us. It stretched, yawning wide enough to show off those unnervingly sharp teeth, then looked directly at me.
There was something unsettlingly intelligent in its gaze, like it understood every word we were saying.
"Uh, hey there, buddy," I said nervously. "You're not planning to smite us or anything, right?"
The cat tilted its head, then did something I absolutely did not expect— it spoke.
"Smite you? Why would I smite the one who freed me?"
Its voice was soft, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The room fell deathly silent as the words sank in.
"You can talk," I said dumbly.
It gave me a look that could only be described as patronizing. "Of course I can talk. I am not merely a 'cat,' as you so quaintly put it."
"Then what are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The cat sat up, its golden eyes gleaming with a light that seemed to pierce right through me. "I am Agnos, the one you mortals call the Unknown God."
Philippe and Fiona stood frozen, their faces pale. I, on the other hand, was too stunned to do anything but stare. Agnos—because apparently, we were on a first-name basis now—regarded me with an almost amused expression.
"You have my gratitude," it said. "I have been imprisoned for centuries, my essence bound to that wretched safe. It is because of you that I am free."
"Oh, uh, no problem," I said weakly. "Happy to help?"
"Indeed," Agnos purred, curling its tail around its paws. "As a token of my appreciation, I shall grant you my favor."
Fiona gasped. "Carl, no! You can't—"
But before she could finish, Agnos leapt from my arms, landing gracefully on the floor. It padded over to me, its golden eyes glowing faintly.
"I sense great potential in you," it said. "But also great uncertainty. Your journey is far from over, Carl Suis. I will give you quests that will test not only your strength, but your resolve."
"Quests?" I repeated, my mouth dry. "What kind of quests? Wait how do you know my name?"
Agnos didn't answer. Instead, it brushed against my leg like a regular cat, then began to fade, its form dissolving into wisps of golden light. Within seconds, it was gone, leaving nothing behind but the faint hum of lingering magic.
"What just happened?" I asked, my voice shaking.
Philippe stepped forward, his expression grim. "It's gone—for now. But make no mistake, Carl. The Unknown God has taken an interest in you. That is not a blessing. It's a burden."
"Great," I muttered, sinking into a chair. "So now I've got a god's 'favor' hanging over my head. What else could possibly go wrong?"
As if on cue, the lights flickered, and a low rumble echoed through the lab. Fiona's eyes widened in alarm.
"Uh, Carl?" she said, her voice trembling. "I think we just found out."
And then the ground shook.