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meerno · The Monster Catcher's Journal

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  The adventure, mystery, and magical creatures
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  collide. Grab your compasses, ready your traps,
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  and get comfortable. Because today's journey
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  takes us into one of the most unpredictable biomes
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  in Nibiru, the Dustfall Steeps. In our quarry,
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  a creature that many consider to be a myth, a
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  phantom of the underground, a shadow of it in
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  the dust. Today, we hunt the ever elusive meerno
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  The Dustfall Steeps are not your average biome.
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  There's something here, ancient. Something untouched.
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  A haunting beauty. Folding grass as far as the
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  eye can see. Always rustling, even when there's
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  no wind. The light never fades. Never brightens,
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  just dusk. Forever the air hangs heavy with rain,
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  scent, and the ground sinks just a little when
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  you walk. Like it remembers every step. I've
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  traveled across Nibiru from the crystal glaciers
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  of Alsayon, ridged to the dense glow jungles
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  of Tal 'Vara, but the steeps. They test your
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  patience. They test your instincts. They test
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  your will. This is Meerno's home, and Meerno is
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  the master of it. So let's get into meerno. Meerno
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  is a fascinating hybrid, equal parts, meercat
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  and rhino, small, sleek, and low to the ground,
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  but muscular, tank -like with a blunt, plate
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  -at -horn designed for charging. Its skin is
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  a dull, mineral, silver, helping it blend with
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  dusty soil and glinting like metal in the moonlight.
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  but that's not even the interesting part. Vano
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  can vanish underground with no trace. Its sand
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  -vail cloak ability allows it to tunnel just
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  below the surface without disturbing a single
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  blade of grass. You could be standing right above
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  it and never know it. It watches, it calculates,
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  it waits for the perfect moment. Some say Merno
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  is more than a monster. They say it's a guardian
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  of the steeps, a living spirit of survival, built
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  not just to endure, but to outsmart. I didn't
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  come here to trap it. I came here to earn it.
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  Before I even set foot in the steeps, I spent
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  three weeks preparing. I mapped tunnel systems
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  based on soil density and rainfall. I marked
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  out natural choke points, narrow valleys, steep
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  hills, rocky clusters, where Mirno might surface
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  on retreat. But I knew one thing. Speed wouldn't
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  win, force wouldn't win, only patience would
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  win. I packed three tolls for this hunt, the
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  Echo Dust. which is a fine powder that reacts
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  to vibration, the phase snare, a passive trap
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  that catches energy fluctuations, and then my
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  seismic tracer, my secret weapon mapping underground
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  paths in real time. New Mirno would be watching,
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  it always was, so I gave it a show. I wandered
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  with deliberate clumsiness, set false traps,
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  scanned the wrong burrows, I became the full
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  Mirno wanted me to be, until I was exactly where
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  I needed to be. I was kneeling beside a fresh
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  burrow. One just warm enough to signal recent
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  use. I scattered echo dust in a wild arc. Careful
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  not to make a sound. At first nothing. Then,
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  tiny tremors, faint, rhythmic. It was circling
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  me. It was toying with me. I placed the face
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  near near a burrow and pretended not to notice
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  the reading on my compass. I whistled, faked
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  a journal entry. Anything to keep my body language
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  calm. Then, The earth buckled behind me. Mirno
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  burst out like a missile. Its horns caught the
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  moonlight, eyes locked onto mine. No roar, no
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  snarl, just awareness. And it silently, Paul's
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  digging into soft soil and in a flash it vanished
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  again. But not before I marked its angle and
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  speed. The seismic tracer lit up. I watched its
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  tunnel curve and ambush route. It was coming
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  back for round two. I placed my shock trap in
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  its tunnel path precisely calibrating to Mirono's
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  velocity seconds past then crack a jolt in the
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  earth Mirono shot out of the ground again startled
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  flickering between solid form and sand bell cloak
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  I didn't wait I slammed my glyph it down onto
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  the ground a relic etched with energy binding
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  runes The device struck ground in open midair,
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  unleashing a net of glowing symbols that wrapped
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  around Mirno like a slow storm. It fought, twisted,
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  charging, pawing the ground, but this time it
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  was contained. I walked forward slowly crouched
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  and whispered, thank you. Mirno didn't go down
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  from brute strength. It went down because I listened,
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  I watched, I waited, and I respected. The dust
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  fall Steeps aren't kind to fools and Mirno doesn't
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  suffer hunters who don't deserve it as I pocketed
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  the warm warm Pyramid I felt a deep heavy stillness
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  in the air. It wasn't fear. It wasn't triumph.
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  It was balance I had earned Mirno's respect and
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  maybe its partnership was never about capturing
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  a creature. It was about understanding one The
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  wind of the steeps died down as I walked back
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  to my rover. Mirror nose sealed safely inside
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  the pyramid on my side. My boots were heavy with
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  mud, my hands trembled, not from fear or exhaustion,
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  but something harder to describe. A kind of reverence.
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  That hunt had changed me, so I did what I always
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  do after a difficult catch. I went to the golden
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  horn pub. This nestled just outside the steep
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  western edge, but built into a cliff that overlooks
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  the ocean of grass. Weathered stone walls flickering
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  lanterns a roof patch together with scrap metal
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  and beast hide to the average traveler and might
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  look like a broken shed. To us catchers it's
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  a second home. The bell above the door jingled
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  as I stepped inside the warmth hitting me like
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  a pulse. Smell a fried root vegetables and drift
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  smoked meat filled the air. A three headed f
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  - folk singer strummed a lute in the corner singing
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  about losing a bet to a banshee in sector nine
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  behind the bar stagola the owner bawled broadshouldered
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  always polishing something that didn't need polishing
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  she raised an eyebrow when she saw the pyramid
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  at my side well well someone's had a good night
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  i slid onto my usual stool let's just say mirno
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  gave me a run for my credits She whistled low.
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  You're not the first to chase that ghost. You
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  might be the first to come back with it. She
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  poured me a glass of blueberry -brute whiskey.
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  Strong, earthy, a little bitter. Legal drinking
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  age on Nibiru is ten for a reason. By fourteen,
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  most of us have seen things that make adulthood
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  look like a nap. I took a sip and let the burn
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  ground me. All around me... the pub buzzed with
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  stories. One young catcher bragged about outsmarting
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  a swarm of ember ticks in the volcanic rift.
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  Another passed around a sketch of a new glyph
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  he'd glimpsed in the fog dunes. Someone was even
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  carving a wooden figure of a sandworm, muttering
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  to themselves like it was a prayer. And I just
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  sat there, pyramid in my lap, the hum of Myrno's
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  energy pulsing against my palm. It was quiet
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  now, almost meditative. Like it knew the hunt
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  was over, but our journey was just beginning.
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  That's the thing about catching a glyph like
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  Mirno. Not about power, it's about respect. About
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  proving you're not the, just another name on
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  a list. You have to walk like the wind, think
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  like the earth, and strike only when the moment
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  sings. Some glyphs demand strength, others demand
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  empathy. Mirno, he demands both. And I'll tell
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  you this, it wasn't just caught, it was earned.
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  So if you ever find yourself wandering the Duskfall
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  Steeps, tread lightly, watch the ground, and
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  if you feel the earth shift beneath your feet,
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  don't run, listen, because Mayor Noh might be
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  watching and waiting to see if you're worth the
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  dance. The golden horn buzzed with chatter, stories,
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  and the occasional flare of magic as the catchers
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  showed off their latest finds. But in one quiet
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  corner near the fireplace a voice had alone,
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  maybe ten years old, eyes wide with awe, gripping
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  a notebook so tight the papers curled. He must
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  have been watching me from across the room because
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  as I stood to leave he jumped to his feet and
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  rushed over, boots too big, jacket too long.
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  His voice cracked half through, caught between
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  excitement and something more fragile, hope.
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  Maybe. Desperation. A dream, trying not to shatter
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  too soon. I looked down at him. Tired eyes. Dirt
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  on my cheeks. A bandage on one knee that was
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  me once. I knelt, resting the warm pyramid Marino's
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  prison in promise against my thigh. Well, it
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  might take you a while to get where I am. His
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  shoulders sink just a little, but I wasn't done.
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  But that's not a bad thing. I reached into my
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  satchel and pulled out my cracked cliff stone,
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  useless in battle but still humming with faint
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  energy. This was my first. I couldn't catch anything
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  with it. Could barely change it, charge it. But
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  I kept it anyway to remind me that even the strongest
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  catchers start small. I handed it to him. His
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  fingers wrapped around it like it was treasure.
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  Don't rush the journey. Don't skip the hard parts.
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  Every scratch and misstep and lesson will shape
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  you. The glyphs don't just test your skill, they
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  test your soul. He nodded slowly, eyes glistening.
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  Then Wilmerno... er, no. Then Wilmerno, wake
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  me someday! I chuckled. She listened to the wind,
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  learned the ground beneath her feet, and never
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  stopped being curious. Maybe someday, but you've
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  got your own path, your own glyphs to meet. He
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  smiled, a real one this time. As I stepped out
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  into the dust, and the grass rustled underfoot,
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  I realized something. We don't just catch monsters.
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  We inspire the next ones to try. And maybe that's
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  the most powerful glyph of all. I could have
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  left the pub right then, ride off into the dusk
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  with another glyph under my belt. Another entry
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  in my journal checked off. But I didn't catch
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  this glyph for me. I caught it for Luna, my best
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  friend. My partner in crime. The reason I ever
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  became a glyph catcher at all. Back when we were
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  kids running through the neon filled up outpost
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  12 chasing shadows with sticks and broken compasses
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  She used to tell me one day. I'm gonna have a
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  glyph that moves like the wind but hits like
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  a comet Me know is exactly that and now it was
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  time to give her hers I met her in the back room
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  away from the noise. She was waiting sitting
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  on a creaky bench kicking her boots against the
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  stone floor When she saw the pyramid in my hand,
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  she stood up so fast she nearly tripped. You
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  didn't. I did. She reached out slowly, reverently,
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  and placed her hands around the pyramid at post
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  and response, warm and alive, as if Mirno already
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  knew. You really caught it for me? I couldn't
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  have done it without everything you taught me.
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  The way you see the world, the way you read terrain
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  like it's poem. I brought the trap. But you gave
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  me the eyes. She laughed her tears hugging the
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  pyramid to her chest and that moment I wasn't
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  just a catcher. I was a friend of filling a promise.
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  We talk a lot about the hunt, about strategy
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  terrain tools, but sometimes the real story isn't
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  about the creature. It's about who we catch it
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  for. Merida wasn't my story to tell. It was hers.
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  And from this day forward Luna's journey would
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  never be the same. because that day is the day
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  that she got her first glyph. Luna wiped her
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  eyes and held the pyramid close still in disbelief.
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  I gave her a nudge with my elbow and grand. Hey
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  Luna, let's get Xena and celebrate at the Broken
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  Dipper Bakery. She laughed one of those loud
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  goofy laughs that made the wall shake a little.
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  You're buying. I just caught a mythical glyph.
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  I think I've earned at least one pink glazed
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  thunder tart. We stepped out of the pub into
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  the twilight, three moons glowing above and the
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  seats behind us, but ahead, laughter, friendship,
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  fresh pastries, and the kind of joy that only
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  comes after surviving something wild together.
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  The three of us, Luna, Zena, and I, strolled
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  down the lantern -lit streets of Cliffside Market.
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  The scene of sugar, spice, and something vaguely
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  magical curling around earth through the air.
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  Luna clutched the pyramid containing Mirno like
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  it might float away if she let go. She looked
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  like a kid with a birthday cake and a secret.
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  Xena walked beside me, her hands stuffed in her
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  jacket pockets, smirking like she already knew
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  how this is going to end. You two really hunted
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  a sand rhino meerkat. Hybrid across the steep
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  since sighted the next logical move was cupcakes,
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  she said, raising an eyebrow. Luna and I said
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  in perfect unison, Thunder Tarts. Broken Dipper
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  Bakery was just as chaotic and charming as ever.
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  It's gross slanted like it had been dropped mid
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  spell and the neon sign still flickered between
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  broken dipper and broken depending on how much
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  sugar was in the air. We pushed through the door
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  and were met with warm cinnamon laced air in
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  the sound of enchanted mixers humming like bees
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  behind the counter. A short round baker with
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  flour in his beard shouted across the room, Stella
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  Ferris, Luna, Xena, you three here to break your
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  teeth on a shock muffin again. I want the blueberry
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  boom tart, Xena said, without hesitation. No
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  frosting, just the explosives. We slid into a
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  booth shaped like a cracked muffin tin. Luna
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  set the glowing pyramid on the table and stared
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  at it like it might start talking. I still can't
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  believe he's mine, she whispered. I can. I said
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  nudging her arm. You've earned this. Zinniceptor
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  sparkling tea and grinned. Alright, I'll admit
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  it. This is cooler than I thought. Creepy glowing
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  sand monsters in the Crystal Prison? Yeah, pretty
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  rad. We've arrived. One Thunder Tart, one Shock
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  Muffin, and one Blueberry Boom for Zinna. We
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  dug in like we hadn't eaten in a week. Luna moaned
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  with joy. This tastes like getting everything
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  you want at her winter tide. Santa's muffin made
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  a tiny pop as it fizzled with spell sugar. She
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  didn't even flinch. I leaned back in my seat
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  watching them both, my pest friend and my roommate,
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  laughing, eating and being very much alive in
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  the strange, wonderful world we shared. Not every
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  day ends with a hunt. Not every entry in the
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  dream was about a creature. Some days are about
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  celebration. about passing something precious
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  on. About pink frosting and the people who aren't
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  worth it. And tonight, this entry is for Luna,
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  for Xenna, and for Thunder Tarts with extra glitter.
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  As we sat there filling our bellies and soaking
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  in the post -hunt glow, I leaned back in the
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  muffin tin booth and let out a deep, satisfied
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  sigh. Thunder Tarts, perfect. Xenna smug grin
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  as her boomtart exploded. Blue glitter across
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  the table worth it. Luna's quiet smile as she
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  held the pyramid close to her chest. Unbeatable.
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  And then it hit me like a psychic crunch to the
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  brain. My eyes snapped open. Oh, I shout it.
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  Zina looked up mid -zip. Uh -oh. I missed my
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  assignment for Professor Orian's class. Luna
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  choked on a sprinkle. Zina blinked at the professor.
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  Orian? The one with the space tattoos and eyes
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  that glow with when he's mad? I groaned rubbing
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  my temples the very same. It was due tonight.
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  We're in celestial biology. Ten pages on multi
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  -planar creatures. And the ethics of finding
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  magic. Luna - Luna winced? Ugh. Your toast. An
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  audit? Toast it like that marshmallow tart you
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  lit on fire last semester. I slapped my head
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  against the table. He's going to make me recite
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  ancient hymns of repentance while balancing a
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  nebula plant on my head again, isn't he? Xenna
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  and Luna didn't answer. They just nodded in sync
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  and stole the last bite of my muffin while I
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  mourned my academic dignity. Yeah. Caught a legendary
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  glyph. Made my best friend cry happy tears. Ate
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  a magical tart. But I also missed my assignment
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  and now Professor Oran's probably sharpening
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  his lecture wand. Typical day in Nibiru. That
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  night I didn't sleep. Not because I wasn't tired.
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  I was. But because dread is like gravity on Nibiru.
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  Heavier under guilt. The hallways of Luan Academy
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  glowed with soft white blue light as I made my
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  way toward the Hall of Starborn Study. The place
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  where celestial theory, multi -planar ethics,
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  and humiliation collided. That night, I didn't
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  sleep. Not because I wasn't tired, I was. But
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  because dread is like gravity on Nibiru, heavier
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  under guilt. The morning after the bakery celebration
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  hit me like a comet to the brain. No sleep, no
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  escape, no way out of it. I walked through the
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  quiet corridors of Luan Academy. I stepped echoing
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  like a countdown to judgment. The closer I got
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  to Professor Orian's class, the more my stomach
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  twisted. I opened the carves starwood doors to
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  the hall of starborn study and stepped inside.
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  There he was. Professor Orion tall sharp jaw
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  and somehow always wearing that same midnight
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  blue robe that shimmered faintly under the skylights.
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  His two eyes met mine the moment I walked in.
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  No anger. Just that look. Disappointed look.
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  Stella Ferris, you're late. In the assignment.
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  I stood at attention, hands behind my back. I
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  missed it, sir. I was in the dust across steeps.
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  I... I hesitated. I caught me or no, but I know
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  that doesn't excuse it. For a long pause, the
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  kind that makes your brain try to fold itself
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  inside out. This is your only... only your second
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  missed assignment. And all your time at Luan
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  Academy, I expect it better. That stung more
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  than yelling would've. He walked over with his...
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  ceremonial platform where an angry -looking nebula
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  plant sat in the crystal bowl. Its leaves twitching
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  in what I can only describe as judgmental disapproval.
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  You know the tradition. Recite the ancient hymns
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  of repentance and balance the plant without magic.
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  I sighed out loud. He raised an eyebrow. Would
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  you prefer the second plant? No, sir. I stepped
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  up, placed the nebula plant gently on my head.
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  It hissed at me. and began the ritual. A light
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  that birthed the stars, a voice that carved the
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  void, forgave thy stubborn child, who forgot
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  the sacred joy. By verse 20 I regret it every
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  second of my bakery detour. By verse 40 I was
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  sweating. By the final line the plant was humming
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  and I was ready to collapse. Professor Orion
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  nodded. You'll submit the assignment late, but,
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  but thorough. In next time, he fixed his ocean
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  blue eyes on me. Don't let the glittery deserts
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  win. I bowed slightly, still balancing the smug
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  little plant. Understood, Professor. So, to recap,
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  I tracked one of the most elusive glyphs ever.
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  Across the Duskfall steeps, faced a creature
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  of shadow and stone, caught it, gave it away,
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  celebrated with pastries that glittered, missed
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  an assignment, balanced a plant on my head while
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  reciting space hymns. All in all, just another
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  day in Nibiru. But the truth is this one meant
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  something extra because this hunt wasn't about
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  the thrill or the glory, it was about friendship.
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  About the people who shape us, challenge us and
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  remind us why we do what we do. Myrna was never
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  mine to keep. It belonged with Luna. And seeing
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  her light up when I handed over that glyphid,
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  that was better than any badge, any rank, any
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  title. was a reminder that the real magic isn't
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  just in catching monsters it's in the stories
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  we share after over tarts with friends in the
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  heart of dusk this has been the monster catchers
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  journal i'm stela ferris until next time keep
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  your pyramids or as we call them glyphids charged
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  your boots muddy and your heart wide open because
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  out here the hunt never really ends