The cry stopped.
The blue glow dimmed.
The cave seemed to sigh.
The book in my ring went silent.
But the weight in my hand felt heavier than it should have.
Something in the depths had found us.
I stood there, frozen, the egg in my palm—small, warm, alive. The obsidian-black surface pulsed once under my touch, the violet and blue veins flickering faintly, like lightning trapped in glass. The grotto felt quieter now, the bioluminescent moss on the walls fading to a soft, steady glow. The water in the pool below rippled slightly, as if exhaling.
Lyra leaned closer, her green light casting shadows across the nest. "You okay, Eryndor? You look like you just picked up a live bomb."
I swallowed, the egg's warmth spreading up my arm, like it was syncing with my heartbeat. "I… think so. It feels… right. But heavy. Like it's part of me now."
Lyra leaned closer, her green amulet casting a soft light over the nest. "The crying stopped the moment you embraced it. Like it was waiting for you."
Elara's eyes narrowed, but not with fear—with caution. "The book said 'claim it or let it claim you.' You claimed it. Now we see what happens next." Elara's hand was back on my shoulder—steady, grounding. Her silver wards hummed faintly around us, but the tension in her voice hadn't eased. "It's bonded. To you. I can feel it. Like it chose you the moment you touched it."
I stared at the egg—obsidian-black, veined with violet and blue like lightning trapped in glass. It pulsed once in my hand—gentle, almost curious. "What is it? From the Abyss? Or… somewhere else?"
Elara knelt beside me, her fingers hovering near the shell but not touching. "Not from Elyndria—it seems. It's… old. Like the forest itself birthed it. Or it came from the abyss and it somehow slipped through the rifts."
Lyra crossed her arms, her usual grin returning but edged with unease. "Great. Our glitch found a glitch-egg. Now we're parents?"
I gave a small, shaky laugh. "Parents? I don't even know how to care for it."
We didn't move for a few moments—just staring at the egg, the grotto sighing around us. The vines on the nest seemed to loosen slightly, as if releasing their hold. The path behind us—the sealed vines and mist—shifted with a soft rustle, parting just enough to let light through. The grotto was letting us go.
Elara exhaled. "The entrance… it's opening. We need to move. Now."
Lyra nodded, her amulet dimming slightly. "Yeah. Before the cave changes its mind."
We climbed down the ledge carefully—Elara first, her silver threads forming a safety net, me second with the egg clutched close to my chest, Lyra last, covering our retreat with green light. The moss was slicker on the way down, the stone colder, but we made it without slipping.
The waterfall curtain parted as we approached—almost welcoming. We stepped through, the ice-cold water shocking us again, but less so this time. We emerged into the outer chamber, dripping, the cave mouth now fully open behind us.
The forest outside was brighter—dawn light filtering through the canopy, the mist thinner, the trees less oppressive. The path that had sealed us in was clear again, as if it had never been blocked.
Lyra wiped her face. "That was… weird. The cave just… let us go."
Elara's wards faded, her expression thoughtful. "It wasn't holding us. It was waiting for us to find the egg."
I looked down at the egg in my hands—still warm, still pulsing faintly. The violet and blue veins shimmered softly, like breathing. "What now? How do we even carry it? It's… alive."
Lyra grinned, though her eyes were wide. "Wrap it in your cloak? Or… Eryndor, your ring. The storage ring. It holds the book. It should hold this too."
Elara nodded slowly. "But be careful. If it's mana-based, storing it might… react with your core."
I hesitated. The egg's weight felt comforting in my hands—like it belonged there. But carrying it openly through the forest? Too risky.
I summoned the ring's space. The egg slipped in—seamless, silent.
Then I felt it.
A pulse—faint, warm, like the book's whispers, but softer. Gentler. And a cry—muffled, distant, like an echo in my mind. Not painful. Not scary. Just… there. Constant.
I froze.
Elara noticed. "What?"
"The egg… I can feel it. In the ring. Pulses. Crying. Like the book, but… different."
Lyra whistled low. "That's… creepy. Or romantic. I'm torn."
Elara's voice was calm but edged with concern. "It's bonded. To you. The book knew. 'Claim it or let it claim you.'"
I looked at my hand—the ring still there, still silent. But the egg's presence lingered, like a heartbeat in my chest.
Lyra grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "So… what do we call it? 'Glowy'? 'Crybaby'? 'Little Abyss Jr.'?"
Elara rolled her eyes. "It's not a pet. It's… something else."
I smiled faintly. "It needs a name. Something… dark. Like the night it came from."
Lyra snapped her fingers. "Shadow? Abyss? Or 'Glitch Junior'?"
Elara: "No. Something mythic. Nyx—goddess of night. Shadows. Secrets."
I nodded slowly. "Nyx. It fits."
Lyra clapped once. "Nyx it is. Welcome to the family, little one. Don't eat us in our sleep, okay?" tapping the storage ring on my finger
Elara's lips twitched — almost a smile. "If it does, we'll deal with it. Together."
We moved out of the grotto—the waterfall closing behind us with a soft rush, as if sealing a secret. The forest path was open now, the mist retreating, the trees less oppressive. We walked in silence at first, the bag of moonbloom herbs slung over Lyra's shoulder.
Then Lyra bumped my shoulder. "So… dad. How's it feel? Got a kid now?"
I laughed—a real one this time. "Terrifying. But… good. Like it's supposed to be here."
Elara glanced sideways. "It chose you. That's rare. Mana eggs are picky. This one… it wanted you."
Lyra: "Yeah, well, it's got taste. Our glitch is the best glitch."
I looked at them—Elara's steady gaze, Lyra's crooked grin. For a moment, the weight felt lighter.
We walked on, the forest thinning, the light brighter. The egg's pulses were constant now—soft, rhythmic, like a heartbeat syncing with mine. The crying was there too—faint, but not sad. Almost… content.
Elara glanced at me. "You feel it?"
I nodded. "All the time. Like it's… talking to me."
Lyra: "Creepy. But cool. As long as it doesn't hatch into something that eats us."
Elara: "If it does, we'll deal with it. Together."
I looked at them—Elara's steady gaze, Lyra's crooked grin. For a moment, the weight felt lighter.
We emerged from the forest edge, the sun high, the world normal again.
But the egg in my ring pulsed—warm, alive.
The rift was growing.
And the book's silence felt louder than ever.