Stone walls of the ancient ruins crumble in silence as golden dawn filters through broken spires. Nestled in the center of a weathered stone nest filled with several gold coins, an egg rests alone. The surrounding shells are cracked and hollow, their former occupants long gone. This one, though... it’s different. A faint warmth pulses beneath its surface, and delicate etchings across its shell shimmer faintly, like dormant embers refusing to fade. The wind carries a distant cry, and for a moment, the egg shifts, only slightly, as if stirred by some unseen instinct. The nest is quiet again, save for the soft flicker of warmth beneath the cracked shell.