"Excuse me, but Dr. Narud is one of my most trusted advisors." Valerian's voice cut through the tension, polite but confused. "Why exactly do you think he's a Xel'Naga?"
The young Mengsk looked genuinely baffled by Marcus's accusation. Dr. Narud had been mysterious, certainly—the man kept his secrets close and spoke in riddles sometimes—but he was undeniably human. Valerian had worked with him for years, seen him eat and sleep and perform all the mundane functions of humanity.
The Xel'Naga, on the other hand, were legendary beings. Ancient cosmic entities who'd shaped entire species, guided civilizations across the stars, served as creators and shepherds to lesser races. They existed in myth and archaeological records, not in research laboratories wearing lab coats.
Dr. Narud was just a man. An exceptionally brilliant man, but still just a man. How could he possibly be a Xel'Naga?
Marcus glanced up at the earnest young heir, his expression almost pitying, and shook his head slowly. "There's an old saying: 'Seeing is believing, hearing is deceiving.' But you know what? In certain situations, that saying is completely wrong. Sometimes your eyes lie better than any words ever could."
As he spoke, Marcus raised his hand casually. Void energy coalesced in his palm, forming a concentrated beam of pure darkness that lanced out and struck Narud directly in the chest.
The effect was immediate. Narud gasped, stumbling backward as the void energy wrapped around him like chains. His carefully maintained composure cracked further, fear bleeding through his expression.
"As a Xel'Naga," Marcus continued conversationally, "you know exactly what this power represents, don't you? The Void isn't just another energy source to your kind—it's something far more significant."
The words hit Narud like physical blows. His pupils contracted to pinpoints, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Because Marcus was absolutely right, and there was no way a normal human should know these things.
The Void represented death and dissolution to the Xel'Naga. When their physical incarnations died, their consciousness returned to the Void—a realm of chaotic energy existing outside normal space-time. There, they would drift in that endless darkness, waiting for the chance to reincarnate, constantly fighting against the Void's erosive nature trying to dissolve their very essence.
It was the closest thing to hell that the Xel'Naga had. A necessary part of their life cycle, yes, but one they approached with existential dread.
Narud's master, Amon, had grand plans involving the Void. The fallen Xel'Naga intended to shatter the cycle of reincarnation entirely, to guide the Void's destructive power into the material universe and let both realms perish together. Ultimate extinction as revenge against existence itself.
But Amon's plan relied on carefully manipulating void energies through proxies and preparations. He didn't control the Void—he merely tried to channel and redirect it.
This human before him? Marcus wielded void power like it was an extension of his own body. Like it answered to his will without question or resistance. That kind of mastery was supposed to be impossible, even for the Xel'Naga themselves.
"You've... you've made a mistake..." Narud managed to force out through gritted teeth, still desperately clinging to his cover identity. His voice wavered despite his best efforts. "I'm not what you think I am..."
He needed more time. His hybrid experiments weren't complete yet, the preparations for Amon's return still required work. Exposure now, before everything was ready, would ruin millennia of careful planning.
"Ha! Made a mistake?" Marcus looked genuinely amused by the continued denial. "Sure. Maybe I have."
He smiled and shook his head, but his expression suggested he didn't believe his own words. Then, surprisingly, the void energy surrounding Narud dissipated. The oppressive pressure lifted.
Since Narud refused to admit the truth, Marcus saw no point in forcing the issue right now. The Xel'Naga would reveal himself eventually—circumstances would demand it.
Besides, Marcus had a strong suspicion that external forces were about to make this whole situation more interesting. The momentum from overthrowing Mengsk had been broadcast across the sector. The news had spread far and wide through countless channels, reaching even the most remote corners of space.
And Kerrigan, who commanded vast Zerg swarms and had every reason to care about Mengsk's fate, would have definitely received that news by now. In fact, she was probably already on her way.
Marcus was quite curious to witness Kerrigan's transformation firsthand. She was destined to become the next Xel'Naga, after all—a being who perfectly combined purity of essence and purity of form. The union of Zerg adaptability and Protoss psionic power, wrapped in a human consciousness.
Right now, she was still the Queen of Blades, still aligned with the Zerg Swarm, still consumed by rage and the desire for revenge. But Marcus was certain she was the Chosen One that prophecy spoke of.
And he was very interested in seeing how that destiny would unfold.
Deep Space – Approaching Korhal
A sleek vessel slipped through the void, its cloaking systems rendering it nearly invisible against the star field. Inside, Zeratul gripped the controls of his ship, his usually calm features drawn tight with concern.
The Dark Templar had received Jim's broadcast about overthrowing Mengsk. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have interfered in Terran political matters—let the humans sort out their own governance without Protoss meddling.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
Not long ago, Zeratul had accessed an ancient prophecy through a Protoss artifact. What he'd seen in those visions had shaken him to his core, had sent him on an urgent mission across the sector trying to understand the true threat facing all life.
And one element of that prophecy was crystal clear: Sarah Kerrigan was essential. She had a role to play that no one else could fulfill.
"Kerrigan, you can't go to Korhal," Zeratul muttered to himself, his hands adjusting course with practiced precision. "Not yet. Not until you understand what's at stake."
He knew with absolute certainty that Kerrigan would be heading for the capital world. She'd been searching for Mengsk for years, driven by fury and the need for revenge. Learning that the dictator had fallen, that he was vulnerable and exposed on Korhal? She'd come running.
But if she arrived without understanding the larger situation, if Jim tried to use that Xel'Naga artifact to "cure" her before she completed her true destiny...
Everything would be lost.
Whoosh—
The Void Seeker left a shimmering trail of distorted space-time as it accelerated toward Korhal, pushing its engines to maximum velocity. Every second counted now.
Elsewhere in Deep Space
On the opposite vector, approaching from a different direction, a massive bio-ship carved through the void. The Leviathan was enormous beyond comprehension—a living vessel that dwarfed even the largest Terran battlecruisers. Its hull pulsed with organic life, thousands of Zerg creatures nestled in its cargo chambers like cells in a massive organism.
Standing on the creature's head, exposed to hard vacuum without any protection, Sarah Kerrigan stared toward Korhal with glowing eyes.
She'd finally accessed a working broadcast terminal through the Swarm's efforts. She'd watched Jim's full declaration, had seen Mengsk's fall with her own eyes.
"Jim actually did it," she breathed, her voice carrying equal parts pride and disbelief. "He actually brought down Mengsk."
Part of her had never truly believed it was possible. The Dominion was too strong, too entrenched. Mengsk had fortified his position so thoroughly that challenging him seemed suicidal.
But Jim had found a way. And now Kerrigan needed to see him, needed to understand what had happened and what came next.
"Take us to Korhal," she commanded through the psionic network. "Maximum speed."
The Leviathan's massive form accelerated, bio-engines pushing it faster through the void. Behind it, dozens of smaller bio-ships followed—overlords, mutalisks, corruptors—a small fleet by Swarm standards, but more than enough to make any world nervous.
Both vessels raced toward the same destination, drawn by the same gravitational pull of historic events. And neither knew the other was coming.
Korhal – Industrial Fabrication Facility
Jim Raynor stood watching the factory floor with intense focus, his eyes tracking every movement of the assembly process. Dozens of technicians and automated systems worked in careful coordination, slowly combining the Xel'Naga artifact fragments into their original configuration.
The assembled artifact was taking shape—a three-sided pillar covered in intricate designs and glowing inscriptions. At first glance, it didn't look particularly impressive. Just an old piece of alien technology, aesthetically interesting but not obviously powerful.
But this unassuming artifact represented Jim's best hope—maybe his only hope—of saving Sarah Kerrigan. Of burning the Zerg corruption out of her body and bringing back the woman he loved.
He'd sacrifice anything for that chance. Risk everything. Even if the odds were long, even if success seemed impossible, he had to try.
"Ha! This is fascinating!"
High above the factory floor, perched casually on the edge of a tall building's roof, Marcus observed the scene below with obvious amusement. His position gave him a perfect view of the facility and everyone inside it.
Dr. Narud stood with Jim and the others, still maintaining his human disguise despite the earlier confrontation. The scientist was keeping close to the artifact, no doubt eager to ensure the reforging process went according to plan.
General Zod and several other Kryptonians stood behind Marcus, having followed him to this vantage point. They watched the proceedings with their own tactical interest.
"Speaking of which," Marcus said without turning around, "did Valerian give you the planet you asked for?"
The Xel'Naga artifact represented Zod's payment for the intelligence he'd requested. If the artifact was being actively repaired and prepared for use, that meant the transaction had been completed and Zod had received what he'd negotiated for.
"We obtained coordinates for a resource-rich world on the outer edge of the Koprulu Sector," Zod replied, his tone professional. "Valerian also provided us with a construction vessel—a ship designed for planetary development and infrastructure building."
Zod hadn't asked for one of the Dominion's core worlds, even though he probably could have demanded it. Those central planets were heavily populated but resource-depleted, their minerals and materials long since harvested for the empire's expansion.
More importantly, Zod had no interest in maintaining close proximity to the human empire. He wanted distance, wanted autonomy. A frontier world, far from political entanglements, suited the Kryptonians' needs perfectly.
That planet would become New Krypton. And eventually, once they'd rebuilt their civilization and recovered their technology, Zod intended to take New Krypton home—back to their original universe, back to where they belonged.
"How's the technological recovery coming along?" Marcus asked with genuine curiosity.
"We've restored approximately seventy to eighty percent of Krypton's scientific knowledge," Zod reported. "With the data we obtained from the Terrans and Protoss, plus our own recovered archives, we should have everything within a few months. Once we complete the restoration, our arrangement will be concluded."
"Ha! Well, I wish you all the best with that." Marcus smiled, seemingly content with how things were progressing.
Once Zod's transaction was complete, Marcus could move on to other realities, other adventures. And the Kryptonians could finally reclaim the Codex of Krypton and begin rebuilding their species properly.
Everyone would get what they wanted. A neat, satisfying conclusion.
WOOP WOOP WOOP—
Alarm klaxons suddenly blared across Korhal, cutting through the peaceful moment. Emergency lights began flashing red. And the mechanical adjutant's voice boomed from every speaker system simultaneously, urgent and insistent:
"WARNING: LARGE ZERG FORCE DETECTED BEYOND KORHAL ORBIT! ALL MILITARY PERSONNEL, PREPARE FOR COMBAT OPERATIONS!
WARNING: LARGE ZERG FORCE DETECTED BEYOND KORHAL ORBIT! ALL MILITARY PERSONNEL, PREPARE FOR COMBAT OPERATIONS!
WARNING: LARGE ZERG FORCE—"
The announcement repeated three times before falling silent, but the damage was done. Panic rippled through Korhal's population.
Zerg? Here? At the capital?
Everyone on the planet knew the same confusion. This was the Dominion's core world, the most heavily defended location in all of Terran space. Orbital defense platforms, fleet elements, ground-based weapons—Korhal's military infrastructure was designed to repel any assault.
How could Zerg possibly penetrate those defenses undetected?
"Well, well!" Marcus's eyebrows rose with delighted surprise. "Looks like we're about to have a show!"
Zerg attacking Korhal could only mean one thing. The Swarm didn't operate randomly—it moved under the direction of its ruling intelligence. And there was only one mind powerful enough to command an assault on humanity's capital.
The Queen of Blades was coming.
"And now," Marcus continued, glancing down at the nearly-completed artifact below, "that Xel'Naga artifact is going to get its chance to shine much sooner than expected."
Down on the factory floor, Jim and the others had heard the same alarms. They stared at the artifact, then at each other, all thinking the same thing.
The timing was too perfect to be coincidence. The artifact was minutes away from completion, and their target—the Queen of Blades herself—had just arrived on their doorstep.
"Your lady love is here, Jimmy!" Tychus called out, a cigar somehow already clamped between his teeth despite the emergency. He was grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd seen in years.
Everyone knew who commanded that Zerg fleet. There was only one being with enough power and motivation to bring the Swarm to Korhal itself.
"I'm going to save you, Sarah," Jim whispered, pulling an old pocket watch from his jacket. He opened it with practiced care, revealing a photograph tucked inside—Sarah Kerrigan as she'd been before the transformation, smiling and human and beautiful.
He stared at the photo for a long moment, his jaw tightening with determination. Then he snapped the watch closed and raised his voice to a command shout.
"Everyone, battle stations! Prepare for combat operations!"
Jim loved Kerrigan with everything he had. He knew, intellectually, that she probably wouldn't deliberately attack him—some part of Sarah had to remain inside the Queen of Blades, some core of her original self.
But he couldn't gamble with the lives of everyone on Korhal. He couldn't assume the Swarm would show restraint when millions of humans were within reach.
He would save Kerrigan his own way. With the artifact. With science and ancient technology rather than wishful thinking.
"Matt," Jim called to his captain, his voice dropping to something more private. "Take Mengsk to one of the shuttles. I need to talk with Sarah, and... and I think she deserves to see him. Face to face."
The unspoken implication hung in the air. This might be Mengsk's last journey. Whatever mercy Jim might have shown the former dictator, Kerrigan had no such inclination.
Everyone sprang into action with practiced efficiency. Even Valerian, who'd never commanded in combat, looked determined as he organized civilian evacuations and coordinated with military commanders.
The young Mengsk understood what was at stake. If Kerrigan was truly here, if the Queen of Blades had come to Korhal, then the artifact represented their best chance to end the threat permanently. Not through violence, but through transformation—changing their greatest enemy back into a human ally.
Within minutes, Korhal's entire military apparatus had mobilized. Defense platforms powered up weapons. Fleet elements moved into defensive formations. The Hyperion itself launched from the Dark Star's hangar bay, its engines burning bright as it climbed toward orbit.
"Well, we can't miss this," Marcus announced, standing up from his perch. "Come on, everyone. Let's go watch history happen."
He led Zod and the other Kryptonians back toward the Dark Star at a casual walking pace, completely unbothered by the emergency. They boarded the massive vessel, and moments later it began moving—following the Hyperion up toward the Zerg fleet.
As the Dark Astar cleared Korhal's atmosphere and entered the void of space, everyone on the bridge got their first clear view of what they were facing.
"By the Codex..." one of the Kryptonians breathed in awe.
The Leviathan dominated the view. It was immense—a living bio-ship so large it seemed impossible such a creature could exist. Its organic hull pulsed with countless bio-luminescent patterns, and even from this distance, you could see smaller Zerg organisms crawling across its surface like parasites on a whale.
"Is this what the Zerg military looks like?" General Zod asked, unable to completely hide his surprise. He'd encountered many different civilizations, seen countless military forces in action. But a biological spaceship on this scale was genuinely new.
Even the concept of converting a creature into a space-capable vessel seemed bizarre, though he had to admit the engineering—biological engineering—was impressive.
"This is a Leviathan," Marcus explained, settling into an observation chair. "It's the largest bio-ship classification in the Zerg arsenal. They're relatively rare, even among the full Swarm. Each one represents a massive investment of biomass and evolutionary development."
Marcus's tone carried genuine interest. The Zerg's biological approach to technology fascinated him from a purely academic standpoint. They'd achieved through evolution and mutation what other species required complex manufacturing to accomplish.
"Will, magnify the visual," Marcus commanded. "Focus on the Hyperion and the Leviathan. Let's see what happens."
At that moment, Jim was using specialized communications equipment to broadcast toward the Zerg fleet. He was taking a calculated risk—trying to reach Kerrigan directly, appealing to whatever remained of her humanity.
The massive Leviathan, which had been steadily approaching Korhal's orbital space, suddenly slowed to a halt. The bio-ship hung in space like a small moon, its presence ominous despite its stillness.
Then a figure emerged from the Leviathan's head, standing in hard vacuum without any visible protection.
It was humanoid in shape, female in form, but obviously alien. Wings extended from its back—not feathered or membranous, but skeletal structures of articulated bone without any covering. The figure's entire body had taken on a purple-and-black coloration, armored with organic plating that looked harder than steel.
"That's the Queen of Blades?" someone asked in hushed awe.
Sarah Kerrigan as she currently existed was a striking figure. The Zerg transformation had kept her basic human silhouette but enhanced and modified everything. She looked powerful, deadly, and utterly inhuman despite the familiar proportions.
Everyone stared in fascination. This was the woman Jim had been obsessing over? The person he'd dedicated years of his life to saving?
She was beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way. Perfect form married to predatory function.
Suddenly, space rippled and distorted between the two fleets. Reality bent, and a third ship materialized from seemingly nowhere—a Protoss vessel with distinctive angular lines and advanced cloaking systems that were only now disengaging.
"What the—" someone started.
"The Void Seeker?!" Marcus sat forward with genuine surprise. "Why is Zeratul here?"
The ship was unmistakable. Its unique configuration and the distinctive energy signature of Dark Templar technology made identification immediate.
Marcus knew the Void Seeker well, and by extension, knew its pilot. Zeratul was one of the few Protoss who'd genuinely impressed him—a warrior-scholar who operated according to principle rather than politics.
But what was the Dark Templar doing here, inserting himself between Jim's fleet and Kerrigan's Swarm?
"Showing up at this exact moment," Marcus mused, frowning thoughtfully. "Is he trying to stop the battle before it begins?"
As if answering his question, a figure materialized on the Void Seeker's hull—the distinctive silhouette of a Dark Templar, energy blades deactivated but clearly ready to ignite at a moment's notice.
"Kerrigan," Zeratul's voice boomed across all communication channels, somehow reaching every ship simultaneously. "You must stop. Do not proceed further."
The Dark Templar stood alone between two massive forces, his posture radiating determination and urgency. He looked small against the backdrop of warships and bio-organisms, but his presence commanded attention despite the size difference.
"Zeratul?" Both Jim and Kerrigan spoke the name simultaneously, their voices overlapping in confused surprise.
Jim recovered first. "Zeratul, we haven't seen you in four years. What are you doing here? Why now?"
It seemed like too much coincidence. The Dark Templar rarely involved himself in Terran affairs, preferred operating from the shadows. So why reveal himself publicly in the middle of this confrontation?
"I have witnessed prophecy," Zeratul declared, his voice grave with the weight of terrible knowledge. "I have seen what is coming. We must unite—all of us, Terran and Zerg and Protoss. It is the only path to survival."
He turned his gaze directly toward Kerrigan, his next words clearly meant for her alone.
"I am here to stop you, Queen of Blades. To prevent you from making a mistake that will doom us all."
"Stop me?" Kerrigan's laugh was cold and sharp. "You? One Protoss warrior thinks he can stop the Swarm?"
Her tone carried genuine amusement mixed with irritation. Whatever respect she might have had for Zeratul personally, she wasn't about to be intimidated or controlled by anyone.
She was the Queen of Blades. She answered to no one.
"Wait, everyone just wait a second!" Jim's voice cut through the growing tension. "Zeratul, I don't know what you think you're doing, but can we talk about this? Figure out what's going on before—"
He shifted his attention to Kerrigan, his voice softening with desperate hope.
"Sarah, please listen. I have a way to change you back. To make you human again. The Xel'Naga artifact can purge the Zerg infection, can restore you to who you were before—"
"NO!" Zeratul's shout was sharp and immediate. "She cannot be restored! Not yet!"
Jim whirled on the Protoss, anger flashing across his face. "What are you talking about?! Sarah can be saved, can be freed from—"
"From the prophecy I have witnessed," Zeratul interrupted with intense urgency, "Sarah Kerrigan is the key. The chosen one. She alone possesses the combination of purity of form and purity of essence needed to defeat our true enemy. If you 'cure' her now, if you destroy what she has become, you condemn the entire sector to annihilation!"
Silence fell across all three fleets as Zeratul's words sank in.
"Prophecy?" Jim's voice was barely a whisper. "What prophecy?"
"Come," Zeratul said, his tone gentling slightly. "Both of you, come to the Void Seeker. I will show you what I have seen. You need to understand what we're facing."
As he spoke, two glowing spheres materialized in his hands—Protoss memory devices, capable of storing not just information but actual experiences and visions.
"Everything recorded in the prophecy is contained within these. When you've seen what I've seen, you'll understand why Sarah Kerrigan cannot be changed. Not yet."
Jim and Kerrigan exchanged glances across the void—him in his pressure suit aboard a small shuttle, her standing exposed in vacuum on the Leviathan's head. Some wordless communication passed between them, some shared understanding despite the distance and transformation.
Then both moved simultaneously, Jim's shuttle launching toward the Void Seeker while Kerrigan flew through space on skeletal wings, propelling herself with psionic power alone.
They met on Zeratul's ship. The Dark Templar handed each of them a memory sphere, and they activated the devices together.
What followed was a long silence, broken only by their breathing as they experienced the prophecy's vision. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as they witnessed futures both terrible and hopeful, saw threats lurking in darkness, understood the stakes of what was coming.
When they finally looked up, both their faces had changed. The anger and determination had been replaced by something else—grim understanding mixed with shock.
"Is this... is this real?" Jim asked, his voice shaking slightly. The memory sphere felt heavy in his hand despite weighing almost nothing.
"The prophecy shows what may come to pass," Zeratul replied carefully. "But yes, the threat is real. Our true enemy hides in shadow, manipulating events, preparing for a return that will mean extinction for all life in this sector."
The Dark Templar's tone carried the weight of absolute conviction. He'd spent years investigating these visions, and everything he'd found confirmed their terrible accuracy.
"So you came specifically for this," Kerrigan said slowly, processing the implications. "To stop Jim from using the artifact on me. To prevent me from becoming human again."
"Yes." Zeratul met her glowing eyes without flinching. "We need you as you are, Queen of Blades. The Swarm's power combined with your human consciousness and strategic thinking. And more than that—we need you to evolve further. To complete your transformation into something greater."
The words hung in space like a death sentence.
Jim looked down at the sphere in his hands, then back toward where the Hyperion waited with its precious cargo—the assembled Xel'Naga artifact that represented his best hope of saving Sarah.
Then he turned to look at Kerrigan, his expression devastated.
"Sarah, I—"
"It's okay, Jim." Her voice was surprisingly gentle, recognizing his pain. "I understand. If this is what needs to happen... if I'm the only one who can do this..."
She didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear. She would accept her role. Would continue being the Queen of Blades, would evolve further into whatever cosmic destiny required of her.
Because some things mattered more than personal happiness.
Jim's jaw clenched so hard his teeth should have cracked. But finally, he managed to speak into his comm unit.
"Matt," he said, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "There's been a change of plans. But... bring Mengsk out anyway. Sarah still deserves closure."
Following his command, a small shuttle detached from the Hyperion and began moving toward the Void Seeker. Inside, Tychus Findlay stood guard over a barely-conscious Arcturus Mengsk, a grim smile on the big man's face.
"You know, Arcturus," Tychus said conversationally as they approached their destination, "I'm actually a little surprised that Valerian let us bring you out here. His own father, getting delivered to the Queen of Blades. That takes some cold calculation."
Mengsk couldn't respond beyond a weak groan. The torture and electrical shocks had left him barely functional.
"Don't worry though," Tychus continued with dark humor. "I'll make sure we get you a really nice coffin. Something elegant. You were an Emperor, after all—should go out with some style."
The shuttle docked with the Void Seeker, and Tychus roughly hauled Mengsk out, depositing the broken dictator onto the deck plates.
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