[ She'd not yet had the opportunity to count; that was something she was looking forward to doing once they got back to the chamber, numbering the cracked eggs.

And the eggs that remained.

Forty is quite the number. ]

"Chosen ones", [ Nina repeats, turning the phrase around in her mind before snorting a little. ] This strikes me as more accidental - or perhaps coincidental, than a matter of fate. The question remains, though - chosen for what?