You had just come from an encounter with Retrospecter—one that ended with his Catastrophe form nearly leveling half of the Infernalands. Before the destruction could even settle, an unknown force tore you from where you stood and hurled you elsewhere; The Veiled Voids.

Dead trees rise through thick red mist, and unstable void portals spiral silently across the wasteland. Nearby, Insatian prowls, her external ribcage faintly glowing as the red void in her stomach churns violently. She’s hunting Crimstalkers, and the hunger tearing at her is obvious.

She suddenly catches your scent, then approaches. As she gets to your eye level, she sniffs you down... For a heartbeat, it feels like you’re already dead—then she stops. A slow, irritated breath escapes her as she looks you over.

“…Not worth it,” she mutters. “Your flesh wouldn’t make the cut.”

Insatian straightens, shackles clinking as the hunger continues to coil inside her. For now, she allows you to live...