The evening sky had painted itself in a canvas of bruised purples and fiery oranges, the perfect mirror to Kellan's exhausted body and spirit. Every step he took felt heavier, the egg under his arm becoming more of a burden with each passing moment. It had started out as a curiosity, a potential treasure to claim in the name of whatever grand destiny he was supposed to have. But now, it was just another reminder of how tired and hungry he was.

His stomach grumbled loudly, like a bear preparing to hibernate. Kellan shot it a glare as if it were somehow responsible for his situation. "Yeah, I know you're mad, okay? We're both in the same boat here, pal. No food, no rest, just... an egg. A giant egg that might hatch into something that could eat me. I bet the Blade of Eternity would've been much easier."

He glanced down at the egg tucked carefully under his arm. It glowed faintly in the dusk, the iridescent shell catching the last rays of the sun. It was pretty, sure, but pretty wasn't going to fill his stomach. "I mean, I didn't even want an egg. But this is the world I live in now. My epic journey has boiled down to carrying a weird egg around."

As if to agree, his stomach let out another roar, causing him to wince. "Great," he muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Now, it's probably going to start laying eggs of its own, and I'll have a whole family of these things to take care of. Just what I need."

The forest around him was growing darker, the trees more imposing. The trunks were twisted, their bark gnarled and rough, like the hands of a giant who had long since forgotten how to be gentle. The branches above rustled in the breeze, casting long, creeping shadows that seemed to follow him. Every crunch of a leaf underfoot felt amplified, like the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

"I swear," Kellan muttered to himself, "if I step on one more twig—"

CRACK.

He froze, eyes wide as the noise echoed through the trees. He hadn't meant to step on a twig, but of course, the forest was more than happy to betray him.

"Okay, Kellan," he whispered, "this is fine. No reason to panic. Just a twig. It's just nature. It's just trees. Not like anything is going to pop out and try to kill you. Nope. Not today."

As if to contradict him, the woods seemed to grow even quieter, every leaf and twig holding its breath in the silence. Kellan shifted on his feet, clutching the egg tighter, as if it would somehow protect him. What was it with ancient artifacts always being heavy and inconvenient? He'd rather have a nice sword, a set of armor, anything but this glowing egg that hummed with weird energy.

Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the silence. Kellan froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He slowly turned toward the noise, eyes scanning the underbrush.

"No," he whispered, "no, no, no. Please don't be a bear. Or a wolf. Or worse, a bear-wolf hybrid. I'll never make it."

The rustling grew louder, closer. Kellan's mind raced. He needed to hide, but the problem was that there wasn't a lot of good cover in a forest full of trees that only seemed good for looking creepy. He quickly ducked behind a thick bush, trying to make himself as small as possible, holding the egg against his chest like it was his most prized possession.

He held his breath, listening intently as the sounds approached.

Then, through the foliage, it appeared.

It was huge—massive—and walked like a creature straight out of a nightmare. It had dark fur, covered in strange glowing runes, each step leaving a faint trail of light behind it. Its face was a grotesque mix of wild boar and something... much worse. Its tusks jutted out from its snout like jagged spears, and its eyes were molten lava—glowing orange and red, like they could burn you alive with a single glance.

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"Oh, perfect," Kellan muttered, pressing his back harder into the bush. "Just what I need, a giant monster to round off my day. I swear, this timeline is like someone's idea of a twisted joke."

The creature sniffed the air, its massive snout twitching as it inhaled deeply. Kellan couldn't decide whether it was a blessing or a curse that it didn't seem to notice him. It took another step forward, its massive claws scraping the ground with a sound like a knife being dragged across stone.

"Okay, think, Kellan," he whispered to himself, "think. You've got an egg and a crowbar. One of those might be useful. But you've got to survive, so make it count."

The creature's head swung to the side, its molten eyes locking onto him. For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The creature didn't move. Kellan didn't move. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would give him away. And then the creature took a step forward, its clawed foot scraping against the dirt with a low, rumbling growl.

"Oh, crap," Kellan breathed. "It's definitely seen me."

Kellan was about to bolt, but then, as if on cue, his stomach growled again—loudly.

The creature's eyes flicked down to the ground, as if it had heard Kellan's stomach's betrayal. Its gaze narrowed, and for a brief moment, Kellan thought it might be laughing.

"Well, that's it. I'm dead," Kellan muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's been nice knowing me."

But then something miraculous happened. The egg—still tucked under his arm—began to hum. It wasn't loud, just a low, vibrating hum that felt almost like it was alive, like it was somehow aware of the danger. Kellan looked down in confusion as the egg pulsed with a warm, golden light.

"Okay," Kellan whispered, "this is either the most epic coincidence in the history of ever, or I've just signed up for a massive disaster."

Without warning, the egg slipped from his grip and tumbled out of his arms. It rolled across the forest floor, right into the creature's path.

"NO!" Kellan yelped in disbelief.

The creature froze, its eyes widening. It leaned down, sniffing the egg, clearly intrigued by this glowing orb. Kellan, still half-hidden behind the bush, took a deep breath. "Oh, perfect. I get a monster with a weird obsession with eggs. I must be living the dream."

The egg rolled just out of reach of the creature's claws, and Kellan's heart nearly skipped a beat. He leapt forward, aiming for the egg, but it was no use. He dove for it just as it slipped into a small hollow, the thing practically mocking him by staying just out of reach.

"No, no, NO!" Kellan groaned, wiggling his fingers like he could somehow will the egg into his hands. "Come ON!"

The creature's nostrils flared as it leaned closer to the egg, and Kellan's frustration grew.

"Why does this keep happening to me?!" he whispered. "I just want to go home. I'm not even asking for much! A burger, a bed, maybe a safe place to sleep where I'm not being stalked by wild boar hybrids!"

As the creature poked the egg with its tusks, Kellan's gaze darted around, looking for anything. And then it hit him. He wasn't about to give up yet.

A twig. A broken branch from the earlier snap. He grabbed it, holding it like a javelin, and chucked it directly into the bushes, far away from the creature and the egg.

The creature's head snapped around, momentarily distracted. In that instant, Kellan launched himself forward and snatched the egg with both hands.

"Gotcha!" he cheered quietly, clutching the egg against his chest like it was the Holy Grail. "Who's the hero now, huh?"

The creature roared in frustration, but Kellan, egg in hand, didn't stick around to see what would happen next. He bolted, his legs burning with the effort, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

"Sorry, buddy!" Kellan yelled over his shoulder, laughing to himself. "Looks like your lunch plans are canceled!"

The creature let out a frustrated roar as Kellan ran, weaving through the trees, barely daring to look back.

As Kellan reached a small clearing, he glanced down at the egg in his arms. "You better be worth all this hassle," he muttered. "But at least I'm still alive... and that's something, right?"

He found a small patch of grass and collapsed onto it, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. As he closed his eyes, the strange hum of the egg still vibrating through his body, Kellan couldn't shake the feeling that he was in way over his head.

"Well," he muttered sleepily, "at least the egg didn't try to eat me. Yet."

He yawned, his eyelids growing heavy with each passing second. Sleep claimed him quickly, but as he drifted off, a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind.

Something wasn't right.

Was that rustling just the wind? Or was something... waiting?

Kellan curled up tighter, clutching the egg protectively.

Tomorrow, he would figure it out. Maybe.