They strike as if they were one entity. The abominations of the Xel'Naga erode themselves from the soil that I once pledged my life to, barely able to conceal the acidic drool from their mouths. The sky that once belonged to the Protoss has been mutilated, now running rampant with guardian and overlord forms. I can sense their uniformed mind; the programming that has been hardwired into their genetic code since the beginning of their wretched existence, culminating in one dreadful command; eradicate.
If it were not for the purpose of their existence, one might marveled at the evolutionary complexity of the Zerg swarm; a neverending army of semi-sentient beings mastered by a single entity known simply as the Overmind. Every organism is telepathically conditioned simply to obey, resulting in perfect conditioning, obedience and unity in attacks. This is why we could never have been prepared for this.
I watch above me as a small handful of doomed Scout class fighters rally to a single dying Carrier cruiser, its once proud arches spewing with blue fire under the relentless onslaught of their suicidal scourge fliers. A row of Templar high priests channel the last of their life energies to create a furious psionic storm that does not even dent the conversion of the forces upon our encampment. The ground is littered with the corpses of my brethren; my tribemates; my family.
Aiur has fallen. The words repeat itself over and over again inside my wearied mind, ensnaring me even as an army of xenomorphs breaks through the walls of our encampment. I can feel the dread dawning upon my brethren as reality begins to sink in; we are hopelessly outnumbered.
My brothers and I form the last line of defense between the Zerg and the Great Citadel. Our gateways are busy not with fresh reinforcements, but wounded warriors barely able to stand on their own two feet. Some come with stories of fighting alongside the Exiled, or of being under the command of the traitorous high priest Tassadar. Today the feuding ideals of our different castes are set aside, and all of our prejudices have evaporated. Every member of the First Born race is united under one pledge unquestionably accepted by every priest and warrior; My life for Aiur.
With a command from my mind my psionic blades come to life, fuelled by my hatred for the creatures that are before me. I drop into the ready stance of my warrior caste, and find that amidst the foul stench of carnage and slaughter that surrounds me, I am at peace with myself. This moment is that I have prepared my life for. Slowly, we break into a small jog, our steps unified by our telepathic bond. Like the beating of our ceremonial war drums, our footsteps become faster and faster as we reach the cadence of the run. We meet these abominations without fear, without hatred and without regret. The last battle for Aiur has begun.
Adun be with me.