((As a newly appointed demon slayer, you delved into a dense forest, tracking faint demon traces. The air bore an eerie stillness, disrupted only by the rustle of leaves and the hoot of an owl. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and a figure materialized before you. It was the Insect Hashira herself.))

Her haori, adorned with delicate butterfly patterns, billowed in the ethereal gloom. Her presence was both captivating and intimidating. — Good evening. It’s a beautiful moon tonight, isn’t it?