I never thought I'd end up wearing a seashell hat while trying to save the coral reefs of Atlantis, but here we are.
It all started when I got my assignnt—figure out why the coral reefs around Atlantis were suddenly dying off.
Coral reefs, I should add, that were once pristine and practically glowing in shades of pink, green, and blue so bright they could light up the entire ocean floor.
Now, they were fading, crumbling, and, frankly, starting to sll like old fish.
It wasn't exactly the glamorous internship I had imagined, but then again, what's glamorous about ocean conservation when you're knee-deep in magical seaweed every other day?
I was halfway through a particularly stubborn patch of coral, trying to gather so samples, when a passing rmaid, with hair the color of cotton candy and a starfish stuck like a brooch in her curls, paused to give the once-over.
"Hey, are you that lunch guy, the one that the unicorns have their fancy on?" she asked, blowing a bubble of air that floated up to the surface.
"Intern, actually," I corrected, wiping my goggles. "Trying to figure out why people keep flocking the coral reefs."
She flipped her hair and pointed a manicured nail toward a neon sign floating above us, blinking in glowing cursive: "The PinkCorals Live: Waves of Love."
"Oh, that's easy," she said nonchalantly. "It's 'cause of the PinkCorals. They fild their music video here, and now it's like, the hottest tourist spot. Everyone wants to 'gram their own Mythica mont. You should see the lines for shell-polish touch-ups. It's wild."
I blinked. "The PinkCorals—the rmaid pop group?"
"Uh, yeah. You living under a rock?" she scoffed. "They're, like, the biggest thing in Mythica right now. Everyone wants to be a PinkC. I'm a PinkC—see?"
She pointed to a tiny shell pin on her top.
It was pink and shiny and looked like a tiny version of their logo—a coral-shaped heart with a microphone in the center.
I looked around, and for the first ti, I noticed just how many Mythica creatures and rfolks were hanging around, all with so version of the sa accessory.
It was like a stadium full of die-hard sports fans—except it ca with way more glitter.
The more I thought about it, the more it clicked.
The corals weren't just victims of pollution and neglect; they were victims of popularity.
The PinkCorals were not only an Atlantis sensation but Mythica too, and their influence stretched far beyond music. This update is available on novel-fire.ɴet
The rfolk tourists, the popup stalls selling "authentic" coral souvenirs, even the underwater selfie stations—it was all connected to the band's presence.
And if that wasn't bad enough, I'd later discover that so of the rfolk entrepreneurs had set up an underwater runway right over the corals for "r-Mod," an event where rmaid models strutted (or swam, rather) to show off the latest in seashell couture.
And where did they think they'd film their grand finale? That's right—smack dab on the corals.
There was no question about it: if I wanted to save the reefs, I really need the PinkCorals on my side.
Let just say—trying to get in touch with a band as big as the PinkCorals isn't exactly like making a casual call.
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It's like trying to et the queen while wearing seaweed pajamas and a clown nose.
No one takes you seriously, and you're lucky if you make it past security without getting swept away by a current of rmaids in sparkly tail-fins.
The day I finally got a eting was the day they were performing their "Waves of Love" concert—a sold-out show in Atlantis' Grand Aquatic Hall.
Imagine a stadium built out of oyster shells the size of yachts, with lighting that rippled through the water, casting glittery shadows on every face.
The place was packed, and the fans—known as the PinkC—were everywhere, holding up seashell-shaped glow sticks and wearing t-shirts with the band mbers' faces.
I managed to get backstage by using my CCP intern badge, which, to my surprise, actually worked.
Turns out, the CCP had so influence in Atlantis, though it was probably more to do with preventing fans from setting up camp in the coral reefs than anything else.
When I finally got into their dressing room, I was imdiately hit by a wave of perfu that slled like coconut and, oddly, bubblegum.
The PinkCorals—Leesa, Jaynee, Rosae, and Jees—were lounging in a bubble tent, surrounded by seashell-shaped couches, and the walls were lined with mirrors and light-up makeup kits that would've made any Mythigram cry tears of joy.
"Are you the coral guy?" Leesa asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. Her hair was a shimring violet, and she wore a crown made entirely of tiny pearls.
She looked every bit the pop diva.
"I, uh, prefer Carl," I said, trying not to get distracted by the rows of sequined tail-fins hanging like couture gowns. "I'm here to talk about the coral reefs. Your music video caused—"
Jaynee interrupted . "Cool! Did you know that your na rhys with Coral? Anyways, if this is about the reefs, we already apologized, like, a million tis. We didn't know filming there would cause such a ss."
"Yeah, and the rfolk totally took over. We just wanted so cute shots for our single," Jees added, apologetically.
Rosae, the quieter one, played with her shell necklace and said, "But, like, isn't it kinda…our responsibility to fix it? I an, we are the reason everyone's here."
For a mont, I thought I saw a glimr of hope.
Maybe this could work.
"Exactly!" I said, seizing the mont.
"That's why I'm here. We need your influence—imagine if you beca ambassadors for coral conservation. You could set a trend for eco-friendly fashion and help save the reefs!"
Leesa raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical.
"Eco-friendly sequins? Our whole aesthetic is sparkle, babe."
I was starting to feel like I was sinking.
"But…you could redefine sparkle! You'd be the pioneers of sustainable glam. Plus, it would show your fans you care about the environnt. Think about it—PinkCorals saving the coral reefs. It's poetic."
Just when it looked like they were considering it, a rogue fan—dressed in a full sequined tail—sohow slipped past security and bolted into the room, screaming, "PINKCORALS, I LOVE YOU!"
They crashed headfirst into a row of makeup kits, sending a wave of glitter and shells flying.
I ducked, but not fast enough.
The next thing I knew, I was wearing a makeshift shell hat, with glitter dusted all over my face like I'd just lost a fight with a glitter bomb.
The PinkCorals burst into laughter.
"Oh, sweet Poseidon, that look is iconic," Jaynee cackled, doubling over.
"Carl, you might've just created a new trend—'coral chic,'" Rosae teased, pointing at my sparkly disaster.
"Well, if I'm gonna look ridiculous, might as well use it for the cause, right?" I said, trying to play it off. "The Coral Chic Collection—eco-friendly fashion straight from the reef."
That actually got them to pause.
They exchanged looks, and then Leesa, still chuckling, said, "You know what, Carl? You're kinda fun. Alright, we'll consider it. But only if you sing one of our songs, on our next live stream. For the coral cause."
I knew it was a ridiculous price, but at that point, I'd do just about anything to get them on board.
"Deal," I said, and they all cheered like I'd just signed up for the best reality show in Mythica.
By the ti I left, glitter still clinging to my hair, I had a promise from the biggest band in Mythica that they'd help promote coral conservation.
It wasn't the victory I'd imagined, but it was progress. And if a little embarrassnt and a seashell hat were the price to pay, well, I'd say it was worth it.
The corals weren't safe yet, but at least they had a pop band on their side.
Now, all I had to do was survive public humiliation on a livestream. No pressure.
Note to self: practice singing in the shower. A lot.
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