In a remote desert stretching as far as the eye could see, scorching winds eroded the sand into swirling mini-vortices. The sky above was a pale orange, empty and silent, until something unnatural occurred.
The air suddenly cracked.
As if an invisible fabric cloaking the world was torn from within, a black fissure stretched open, and two figures were flung out of the void. They were insectoid humanoids: one resembled a forest beetle, its robust body covered in wounds reflecting the harsh sunlight; the other was a dusty-winged moth-like creature, its long antennae twitching restlessly.
The Moth seized the battered Axis and tossed him carelessly onto the sand.
A low hum emanated from its chitinous mandibles—a foreign, grating language. Yet, translated into human speech, it meant:
"You fool. I told you to be careful! We are at our weakest point now. One of us is already dead. If we are reckless, our entire effort to breach this world will be for nothing."
