Quackyprep ~upd~ -

It wasn't a normal egg. It was the size of a small melon, with a shell that shimmered like oil on water. And when it cracked, it didn’t just crack—it detonated with a soft FOOM , sending shockwaves across the lily pads. From the golden goo inside rose a duckling. But this was no ordinary duckling.

“What can you possibly teach me, puffball?” Gerald croaked. quackyprep

But the duckling, who named himself Beaker , had a plan. It wasn't a normal egg

Beaker watched a late student—a young, eager dragonfly—racing across the water to make it to night school. He watched a turtle argumentatively practicing a debate stance alone. He watched Glimmer, now Head of Luminescent Arts, painting the dusk with a slow, syncopated waltz of light. From the golden goo inside rose a duckling