Irena Kirk stared at the pulsing glow within the fractured shell. It wasn't warmth she felt radiating from it, but a chilling resonance. The forest pressed in around her, the carved faces of the pumpkins leering as if privy to some dark secret. She’d been drawn here by the river’s unnatural stillness, its surface reflecting not the sky above, but an endless expanse of shadowed trees. A single drop of crimson stained her dress, a mark from where she'd collected this strange egg from beneath a gnarled root. The green light intensified, and Irena felt a pull, a silent invitation to release whatever lay dormant within. But what would emerge? And at what cost?