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That strange yet familiar tugging sensation was back. Marinette didn’t quite understand what it was, but she could tell it was stronger now more than ever as one of the last two eggs started to rock back and forth, cracks starting to splinter its formerly pristine shell. She didn’t register her feet carrying her forward, anymore than she registered Alya’s confused voice calling her name over and over again. In fact, the whole cavernous room seemed to fall away, the excitement of the crowd around her fading to a dull roar, until all she could see, all she could focus on, was the two eggs now rocking and cracking among the burning embers of their mother’s dragonfire. Her hand lifted of its own accord, reaching out to brush the surface of the egg almost reverently. Distantly she was aware of shouts of alarm and anger, of rough hands grasping at her arms and trying to haul her away but Marinette fought against them. Fought to stay with the egg. It needed her. Why couldn’t they see that it needed her!?
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