Chapter Text
In the meanders of the void, walks, lost, the corpse of a fallen warrior that had just awakened. Eyes blackened, mind blurred, the darkened body loathes its miserable fate. Yet, it finds relief in the whispers of its puppeteer, for they keep telling the greater evil is finally gone. Alas, with the fall of Amon, there are no obstacles left on the way of the darkness within, and it would have been a better fate to perish than become its herald.
Walk, slash, slaughter, into the void, out in the wilds, the protoss marionette kept on its macabre routine, blind and deaf, unaware of the massacre it leaves behind. Not that it mattered. The whispers were satisfied, and its mind swayed with each blow. Suddenly, a pulse emerges in the darkness, and words, akin to heartbeats, begin to resonate within the halls of oblivion. “Zeratul, Zeratul!”, the meaningless chant grows with each step. Soon, it was annoying enough to put a halt to the warrior’s relentless dance. A bright silhouette manifests in the mind of the dark templar and screams again:
“- Zeratul ! Zeratul!
- Is this another of your mischiefs, Ouros? What bidding would you command a damned that the living cannot do? Or, the protoss pauses, listening to the whispers as they gnaw at his mind, perhaps you are here to pity your fallen servant before ordering his execution?
- No, Zeratul, it is I, Tassadar. I have come to teach you, as you once taught me.
- Tassadar? The templar is intrigued. I remember Tassadar, he was a good friend of this empty shell of mine, he says before the whispers torment his spirit again, causing a surge of anger within. I also remember he was dead.
- Be not afraid, Zeratul, for I now live in the Khala. In fact, I have come with a peer.
A twisted voice suddenly resonates through the shadows:
- The Khala? Do not mock me, protoss! The Khala is gone with Amon, and with it, the last chance of your kin to face me. You are no better than food to fuel my ascension.
Another figure appears, addressing the silhouette of light:
- I told you, Tassadar, he is not worthy of our time. Our chances are greater with Artanis.
- And I refuse to let my friend succumb to the darkness, Adun, Tassadar replies.”
Adun? The Dark templar is puzzled. Could it be the one Adun? Are these near-death delusions telling the truth? For a brief moment, Zeratul came back to his senses, and the voices were shut, his will to know making his spirit strong enough to overcome the darkness:
“- And what is there to teach one who could not even learn how to die?
- How to save you, Tassadar confidently answers.
- Is that even possible? The dark templar asks again.
- Through the Khala, all could be achieved, Adun replies.
- The Khala? But the voices said it was gone. Even if it still exists, I can no longer reach it. I never had and never will. The protoss’ withering arm instinctively reaches to its severed nerve chords, black smoke seeping through its scars.
- The Khala is the true power of the first born, Zeratul. It will never leave our side. Through it, we live in unison, and even without sensing each other’s thoughts, Adun says as he points to the section on the back of the templar’s head, two Nerazim can merge into a dark archon. Just like them, you do not need to sense our brothers’ thoughts pouring down your mind to feel their strength coursing through your veins.
- Don’t these amalgamations happen with the power of the void?
- I had wielded the powers of the Khala and the void long enough to understand many things, Tassadar backs Adun’s speech, and Adun had them long enough to learn the full might of their power. We have a lot to teach you. Now surround yourself with the will of our peers and those gone before them, let their choir reach your voice, and submerge your body in their minds.”
The two Khalai press their ghostly hands against the back of their fallen companion. “Break your chains!”, their spirits scream as the templar elevates in the darkness. But the whispers simply won’t him free. A torrent of black flames pours down on the thousand battles scarred skin, leaving the templar writhe in agony.
“- I will not succumb anew! Zeratul shouts.
The voice in the darkness shackles his mind:
- You will not escape. No mortal can escape their god.
- You are no god! You are but a tool meant aid the Nerazim, wielded as a weapon in battle.
- Foolish creature. I shall consume you whole this instant and move on to my next follower.
- The first born submit to no master. Come to me, my brothers! En taro Tassadar!”
As the Khalai said, Zeratul became imbued with the might of all their kind. Unable to resist his newfound powers, the darkness cowered deep within his mind, never to whisper again.
“- You make for an impressive voidwalker, Adun congratulates the dark templar, as his eyes begin to sense again.
- What has happened here?”
Zeratul stands appalled, barely understanding the scene that is now unfolding before him. An endless carpet of bodies torn to shreds pave the road to a city of ruins that lays under a burning yet familiar sky. Aiur! The dark templar then notices something else; His fellow first born are surrounding him again, but this time in flesh and blood. Finally, he recognizes the faces of those desperately standing all around him: Artanis, Vorazun, and many others who once fought alongside him.
“- You have aged, executor, the dark templar says, exhausted.
- And you are under arrest. In the name of the Daeleaam, you shall be executed for your actions, the leader stoically replies.
- I did not hold you in high esteem, prophet, but you somehow managed to fall below any expectations. Shall we proceed? She turns to Artanis.
- There is no need for haste. Let him have a proper trial first, now that he seems capable of reason. Our people deserve an explanation.
- Your judgement is clouded, Artanis. This kinslaying cannot be justified. Do not let shadows of the past deceive you. This abomination must be killed this instant.
Zeratul looks once again around him, then at his feet, before saying, full of sorrow:
- I cannot bear the weight of my actions, old friend. Perhaps it is better for me to leave this world now that I have come back to my senses. This would be the greatest act of mercy a warrior could do another.
- I will have none of it. I am the leader of the protoss and I alone will decide how this ends. Arbiters, seize this felon and prepare him for trial.”
In a flash, the air around the lost templar solidifies. In the next moment, Zeratul finds himself in the center of a theater full of Daelaam. From the middle of the rowdy crowd emerges a psionic wave, followed by the voice of the judicator:
“- Silence! It is now time for the defendant to speak. Though your sentence is clear, the Daelaam demands if you had any regret after coming back to your senses.
Zeratul replies, amassing whatever pride and honor remains in his heart to overcome the mountain of guilt towering over his shoulders:
- I have no recollection of events prior to my awakening, but I can only feel the tides of pain engulfing the plains of slaughter the voice in the darkness had left behind.
- And about this voice in the darkness of which you speak, the judicator resumes. It does seem to be a growing danger that no first born could ever escape before. If you could tell us how to break free of its control, then the lives you would save would alleviate your burden before you leave our world.
Zeratul’s next words would leaving the court in complete astonishement:
- It is Tassadar and Adun who had come to my aid from within the Khala.”
Indignation fill the place, followed by booing and cries of anger. “You should plead for insanity and end yourself with your own blade!” A voice screams. “How dare you utter these names, you who lost your identity?” Another one yells. In the rising chaos, a mass of furious protoss leaps towards the fallen templar. Shadows thicken near his fingers and take the shape of gigantic whips, pushing away the flows of what was once his fellows. The Daelaam retreat to their bleachers and the judicator tries to get ahold of the situation:
“- Would you stop acting like mindless Terrans? This would bring shame to our predecessors.
The judicator then addresses Zeratul:
- You must consider that we do not take these pleasantries of another so lightly. Adun? Tassadar? The Khala? You are aware that it is extinguished, aren’t you? Maybe not, given your severed chords. Your brain has gone so tarnished that you have forgotten you had never experienced it, Nerazim. Explain yourself.
- I speak only truth, the defendant replies. As you can see, the darkness still holds me in its grasp. It is only with the Khala that I can tame it. Through it, I had noticed the loneliness in your heart. I sensed your longing for our peers even though they are sitting next to you, and I can see that every single one of you only has the desire to be reunited with it again for you are lost without its light. My brothers have failed to show you the path of the shadow and I wish not to leave you in despair.
- Nonsense! A protoss interrupts Zeratul.
- Would you please let me finish, Selendis? The templar tries to silence her.
- How do you know my name? We had never met.
- I had seen it in the Khala, Zeratul continues as the crowd gasps. But now is not the time for these quarrels, for it is not all what I had seen through it. A great peril lurks beyond our reach. We must make haste and prepare ourselves.”
Indeed, far beyond the reach of Aiur, something is starting to move.