The alert came from the Satan system to Enel.
Perseus led the group through the treacherous wilds of Imperilment, his werewolves flanking the party in disciplined formation. The land was just as Enel remembered—raw, brutal, and alive with unrelenting danger. Gigantic, mutated beasts prowled the rugged terrain, their forms twisted by the land's dark energies. Some flew, with razor-sharp wings slicing the air, while others slithered or crawled, their glowing eyes locked onto any potential prey. Predators constantly attempted to devour one another, a relentless cycle of survival. Even the trees seemed hostile, their gnarled roots reaching out like claws, and their leaves whispering eerie warnings in the wind.
Enel glanced around, his black eyes calm yet observant. "Same old Imperilment," he muttered. "Nothing here changes."
