I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Tilbo had never shown any aggression. On the contrary, she remained on his shoulder or in his pocket almost all the time, like a loyal guard. When Clavor approached, Tilbo would move her antennae toward him, but she would not run away. When Judite shouted, Tilbo did not get startled.

’She trusts me.’ Lukas thought.

’Just as I trust her.’

Prata, the Silver Thread Venom Spider, had also grown a little.

Its body was more rounded, its abdomen thicker, and its legs slightly longer. The silver hairs on its legs had become denser and now gleamed even in dim light.

Lukas had witnessed its first molting, a fascinating process.

It had remained motionless for hours in the improvised terrarium Lukas had set up in his room, a glass box filled with soil, leaves, and small branches. Its body gradually darkened, the old carapace cracking like a dry shell and revealing a new, shining layer beneath.

Lukas sat in front of the terrarium and watched everything.

The old carapace cracked first along the abdomen, then the legs, then the head. Prata slowly twisted and pushed its body out of the old shell as though removing a tight coat. The entire process took almost two hours.

When it was over, Prata was larger, perhaps ten percent larger, and its new exoskeleton was darker, and shinier, with more visible silver veins.

He wrote it down in his notebook.

”Incredible.” He murmured as Prata climbed onto his hand, still weak from the effort.

...

During those two months, the two creatures had become a constant part of his life.

Tilbo and Prata spent most of their time on his shoulders, one on each side, like silent sentinels. Tilbo preferred the left shoulder, and Prata the right. They had never negotiated it, but that was simply how things worked.

The family had grown used to it, oddly enough.

Aurora sighed every time she saw the two of them, but she no longer complained. She had even started leaving small pieces of fruit in Lukas’s room for Tilbo because, ”ants like sweets, don’t they?”

Clavor simply shook his head, muttering that ”Lukas has a special way with animals.” He no longer questioned it. He saw no immediate danger. Tilbo had never attacked anyone. Prata, despite its venom, had not either.

Judite, after her initial fright with Prata, now even tried touching the spider very carefully.

”She’s... soft.” Judite said one afternoon after Lukas placed Prata on her hand.

”The little hairs... they’re soft.”

”They are.” Lukas replied with a smile.

”So you’re not scared anymore?”

”I am. Just a little.”

”A little is fine.”

Lukas also used those two months to capture and study small insects from the inner garden.

Beetles with bright green shells that reflected light like tiny jewels. Long-legged grasshoppers that leaped astonishing distances. Red centipedes that hid beneath stones. Tiny aphids that sucked sap from plants.

He observed them with a magnifying lens he found in one of Clavor’s drawers, an old crystal lens, cloudy in some areas but still useful.

He recorded behaviors. Feeding habits. Movement patterns.

”You spend more time looking at insects than playing.” Judite commented one afternoon as she saw Lukas sitting motionless before a beetle.

”This is playing for me.” Lukas replied.

”Playing is running. Jumping. Shouting.”

”That’s playing too. Just quieter.”

Judite did not understand, but she did not insist.

...

Today was the eve of Lukas’s birthday, the day he would complete one year of life in this world.

He was sitting on the floor of his room, legs crossed, watching Prata devour a small beetle he had captured in the inner garden. The spider attacked with surgical precision. Its front legs immobilized the prey, its mandibles pierced the exoskeleton, and it injected venom.

Within seconds, the beetle became paralyzed. Prata then began crushing it, greedily sucking out the internal fluids in silence.

Tilbo was on his left shoulder, her antennae pointed toward the spider. She showed no hostility, only curiosity.

Lukas sighed.

”There still hasn’t been any change...” he murmured, quietly enough that only he could hear.

He had been thinking about it frequently over the past few days.

After giving the name ”Tilbo” to the ant, he had felt that profound mystical connection, an energy that had flooded his body and granted him his absurd Innate Strength.

It had been as though an invisible silver thread of light had stretched from his chest to the ant, and everything had changed.

He had expected something similar to happen with Prata.

Perhaps a new power. Perhaps another ability. Perhaps... he did not know.

But nothing.

The spider was extremely tame and close to him, more than any ordinary pet. But there had been no explosion of energy, no invisible thread connecting their consciousnesses.

”Maybe it’s more complicated than simply giving a name.”

”Maybe it requires more time. Or a deeper bond.”

”Or maybe that will never happen again.”

”And that’s okay.”

Lukas sighed, accepting the fact with a maturity beyond his apparent age.

He extended his hand. Prata climbed onto it without hesitation, its delicate legs touching his skin lightly. Tilbo, on the other shoulder, moved her antennae as though observing the scene with curiosity.

”You two are my first friends here.” Lukas said with a smile.

”One day, I’ll have a huge place for you. An entire zoo. With perfect habitats, unlimited food, and safety. You’ll be able to live without fear.”

Prata remained still in his palm, as if she understood.

Tilbo lightly tapped her antennae against his neck.

Lukas lay down on the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling.

The room was quiet, filled only with the distant sounds of servants working in the corridors, muffled voices, light footsteps, and the clinking of buckets and pots. The sun had already set outside, and the light from the oil lamp on the bedside table cast dancing shadows across the walls.

He thought about the last few months.

The growth. The discoveries. The journey to the city. Judite’s Awakening. Prata’s arrival.

Learning to walk. Learning to speak. Learning to control his strength.

Tilbo appearing in his cradle. The connection. The energy.

The first time he saw the ”inner light” within Clavor. The One-Horned Tiger on the road. The roar. The smell of blood.

”Tomorrow I’ll be one year old.” He whispered, closing his eyes.

”One year in this world.”

He opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling.

”There’s still a long way to go... but I’m on the right path.”

Tilbo and Prata remained close to him, one on the pillow, the other on the small table beside it.

The ant nestled among the wool threads, her metallic body glowing faintly.

The spider remained motionless, its multiple eyes reflecting the light of the oil lamp.

Lukas fell asleep with a peaceful smile, eager for the next day.

The one-year birthday celebration would be simple. Aurora had already said it would be just the family, a small cake, and a few gifts. No grand celebrations.

But for Lukas, that day marked the true beginning of his journey.

One year of life in this world. One year of discoveries.

’There is still so much to do.’ He thought as sleep came.

’So many animals to meet. So many people to meet. So many places to explore.’

’But I’m on the right path.’

’I am.’

The wind blew outside, swaying the curtains.

The oil lamp crackled softly.

And the room sank into silence.