The construction of everything felt like it was moving at a pace that honestly caught me off guard. It wasn't just fast—it was too fast, like the world itself had decided to stop dragging its feet for once and actually cooperate. Structures were already taking shape, foundations being laid, paths being cleared. What should have taken weeks was somehow unfolding right in front of my eyes in what felt like mere moments.
Still, not everything could be fixed.
We were too late to save the current generation of eggs. That fact sat heavy in my chest no matter how I tried to rationalize it. Knowing that those lives were already lost—potential lamias that would never slither, never speak, never even open their eyes—hurt more than I expected. There could have been so many more of them. A whole generation that never got the chance to exist.
But even so, this wasn't meaningless.
