The egg pulsed again, gold veins flaring slightly brighter across its jet-black shell.
Lucian watched without blinking.
Mana flowed softly from his palm—not forceful, just steady. A gentle feed of essence shaped by his will. His energy sank into the egg like ink dropped in water, spreading slowly, vanishing into the cracks.
The shell twitched.
Then again.
Lucian stood slowly, hands lowering, watching the change.
The golden lines burned brighter, curling across the egg like living veins. The floating pedestal trembled, vibrating with a low hum that echoed across the space. A gust of wind stirred—where there shouldn't have been any.
Then came the first sound.
A muffled thump.
A second thump.
A low, guttural growl—like the sky itself was waking up.
The egg cracked.
Hairline fractures spread out with a faint hiss. Golden light leaked through every crack, lighting up the dark chamber like a miniature sun was being born. Lucian didn't step back. He didn't flinch.
