The Dimensional Menagerie
Yomi Yuki had three goals for the day:
Don't almost die.
Don't let Astri eat another customer.
Convince the Shopkeeper to give her hazard pay.
By mid-morning, she had already failed all three.
The first portal of the day cracked open like ice breaking, spilling cold mist across the floor. A woman in glimmering armor stepped through, helm under one arm, eyes sharp enough to cut steel.
"I need a battle companion," she said, scanning the cages. "Something loyal. Obedient."
Yomi sighed. "Yeah, about that—loyal and obedient aren't exactly on the menu here. More like… stubborn and explosive."
Astri flicked her tail from Yomi's shoulder, purring smugly as if to agree.
The armored woman frowned. "I'll take that one." She pointed straight at Astri.
Yomi clutched the kitten tight. "Nope. Off-limits. She's not even for sale."
The woman's frown deepened. "Everything has a price."
Before the tension could snap, the Shopkeeper's voice drifted from the shadows: "Rule Four. Do not covet what has chosen another."
The armored woman stiffened, muttered something under her breath, and stormed back into her portal. The cold mist dissolved behind her.
Yomi exhaled shakily. "Great. That's two customers Astri's scared off, and zero hazard pay for me."
The second customer was worse.
A cloaked man with skin like cracked stone entered silently. He moved stiffly, each step echoing with hollow weight. When Yomi asked his name, he only rasped: "Payment first."
He pressed a coin to the counter—except it wasn't metal. It pulsed like a living heart, beating against the wood.
Yomi recoiled. "Yeah, no thanks, I don't do cursed cardio."
The Shopkeeper inspected it once, then nodded. "Accepted."
The cages stirred. Glass shimmered. From the shadows slithered a creature with too many wings and eyes that blinked in patterns Yomi couldn't follow. It landed on the counter before the stone man, who reached for it—
And every light in the store went out.
Yomi froze. "Uh… Shopkeeper? This supposed to happen?"
The Shopkeeper's voice was calm but sharp: "Stay still."
Shapes moved in the dark. Whispers coiled through the aisles. Astri hissed, fur blazing faint starlight that carved out a small circle of safety around Yomi.
Then—just as suddenly—the lights returned.
The cloaked man and his winged creature were gone. The coin-heart had vanished. The Shopkeeper was already sipping fresh tea.
Yomi rubbed her face. "No one even pretends this is normal anymore, huh?"
She slumped behind the counter, Astri curling in her lap. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Why are you really sticking with me, huh? You could've picked anyone. Some shiny goddess or edgy warlord. Why me?"
Astri just purred, galaxies spinning.
The Shopkeeper glanced her way, unreadable as always. "Because the Menagerie never makes mistakes."
Yomi groaned. "Yeah, well, it sure knows how to ruin a workday."