Chapter 26: The Fall of an Empire

Disclaimer: Starcraft is the property of Blizzard and Gate is the property of Takumi Yanai. I own neither.

He ran, stumbling over his feet. Fear lanced through his heart as its pounding filled his ears. The red being, the one that slew his guards, was suddenly no longer the main thing on his mind. The others came after him.

He didn't know what they were. Demons from Hardy's underworld, maybe, but never before had he seen anything like them. Never had he even heard of anything like them. Despite the multitude of varying species that Falmart held, there was nothing remotely similar to these creatures.

They could move deceptively quickly. The large one, a purple troll-sized monster with armor stronger than iron, rushed him down and picked him up with a tentacle. While it's allies - oversized dogs and snakes armed with too many spikes - engaged the heathen who slew his guards, it had talked to him.

They called themselves Hybrid. The strongest species in existence, greater than even the annoying Protoss. They told tales of the stars, of gods and cycles. They spoke of Amon, the true Amon, and not the red figure that dared threaten him. The fake would not survive long, the Hybrid assured him, and would be destroyed quickly.

Amon was the last Xel'naga. The Hybrid told him of this dark god and his goal. Amon was the true god, the most powerful of them all. Emroy, Hardy, Flare and the others were nothing compared to him. The lesser gods could barely affect the real world, but Amon? Amon could bend reality to his will.

But what did such a powerful being want with him, he wondered. The question was spoken only in his mind, but the Hybrid heard it anyway. Amon wanted to destroy those who had wronged him. The foolish, prideful Protoss, who had dared stand against him. Their allies, the overbearing Terrans and the animalistic Zerg, would all be destroyed. And when the flawed races were wiped clean, he would rebuild the sector in his image.

But what did he get out of it? The reply came quickly to this unasked question as well. Power, of course. He would be elevated, far beyond any human. He would be immortal, indestructible and unbeatable. All he had to do was to accept the gift, and take control of the Empire, as was his destiny. Prove to his father, and to the treasonous Princess Pina, that he was the true heir to the throne, who would bring the Empire to unparalleled glory and power.

Yes... A most agreeable deal. He was destined to rule! The Empire will be his, and all others will bow at his feet!

A cocoon began to form over his injured body, soothing it. Soon, the Hybrid promised, soon he would have his power.

And when the mountain shattered in a blaze of light, Crown Prince Zorzal El Caesar walked away, grinning madly.

Zorzal ran without rest, marveling at his new capabilities. For over six hours, he had been sprinting along, faster than a horse, without getting tired. He wasn't even breathing hard from the exertion.

The walls of the Imperial Capital loomed before him. It was a sheer mass of stone designed to keep intruders out and had done so valiantly for decades. Before, it's size alone had awed him, but now that he had glimpsed into the stars, it seemed puny.

Outside the gates of the city, long lines of traders and merchants waited for their turn to enter. With the checking of documents and taxation that had to be done, the lines were progressing slowly, causing a massive jam.

It was moving too slowly for Zorzal's liking as he came up behind them. He was the Crown Prince! Waiting in line was beneath him. He began forcing his way through the crowd, his enhanced strength pushing grown men aside effortlessly.

The men he forced aside glared at him before fear suddenly became apparent on their faces. Ignoring it, Zorzal pushed onward, only for a path to open up before him as the news of his presence spread. Ha! The commoners knew to give way to him, as his position demanded. But why did they all look so scared? Maybe the Protoss were attacking, or planning to. Were they at war?

Zorzal reached the gate of the Imperial Capital uncontested, coming to a stop when a pair of guards called out, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Zorzal felt a surge of annoyance. They didn't recognize him when even the peasants did? "I am Crown Prince Zorzal, fools! Get out of my way at once!" he demanded.

The two guards, dressed in gleaming armor and pointing spears at the figure before them, looked uncertainly at each other. "Sir," one ventured, "Could you please remove your mask and allow us to confirm your identity?"

Mask? The strange request distracted Zorzal from his rage at being questioned. He put his right hand to his face, noting smooth carapace. It could be a mask, he supposed, but how could he remove it? Seeing as how he hadn't even discovered it, it must be a part of him. Getting an idea, Zorzal simply willed it aside and was gratified to feel the armor slide aside, coming to rest on either side of his head. It revealed his mostly human face, which wore a predatory grin displaying rows of sharp teeth.

The guards took a half step back as they gaped, mouth open. Zorzal scowled as they raised their spears to point at him. Incompetent fools. If only he could force them to obey him...

And just like that, he was in their minds. He could feel them as though the two were extensions of himself, a new but not uncomfortable feeling. Mentally, he ordered them to stand down, and his smile grew as they relaxed, lowering their spears back to their sides without any protest. This was going to be fun...

Zorzal walked up into his room, looking around. It was exactly as he remembered, but it seemed so... disappointing. Of course, when one looks through the eyes of a god, nothing made by man held value. And he was basically a god now, wasn't he? He was nowhere near as powerful as Amon, definitely, but his new abilities could easily rival the likes of Hardy or Emroy.

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the guards following him. They were useful, their presence getting him straight to his mansion without incident, but now he needed time alone. Sitting down heavily onto his bed, Zorzal began to think.

His new form was powerful. But, he thought, looking over his arms, it could be unsettling to lesser men. His arms were covered by hard brown carapace similar to that of the oversized insects - the Zerg, he remembered. He used his right arm to experimentally strike his left. What was supposed to be a light tap caused a resounding crack to sound out. However, he felt no pain, and a check showed that his armor was undamaged.

His chest and legs looked human, at least, but they too were different. The skin was far stronger than even animal hide, holding together even when he ran a claw-tipped finger across his leg.

Now that he had the power to do so, he had to come up with a cast iron plan to take control of the Empire. Powerful as he was, his form would most likely terrify the Senators. First, he needed to find someone he could trust to help him deal with the Senate.

A knock on the door drew him out of his musings, and Zorzal looked up as the double doors to his bedroom opened to reveal a panting Count Marx of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Yeah, he'd do.

"Prince Zorzal! You've returned! And... what..." Count Marx trailed off as he stared at the Crown Prince. Whose arms and head now looked distinctively non-human.

"Ah, Count Marx!" Zorzal greeted cheerfully, "I was about to summon you."

Marx blinked rapidly, trying to regain control of his speech, "Your... Your Highness... What happened?"

Zorzal grinned widely, knife-like teeth showing, "I'm glad you asked. I was chosen by a god, Marx. Chosen to rule!"

"A god? Which one?" Count Marx asked, pulling himself together. Most gods did tend to neglect the appearances when granting their gifts, but this was still unsettling. "Hardy?"

Zorzal stood up, taking slow steps forward, and to his amusement, Marx took a small, subconscious step back. "No, not her. My god is called Amon, and he is far more powerful than any other," Zorzal announced triumphantly.

Sweat dripped down Marx's brow as he replied, "I've never heard of a god called Amon." He took another step back as Zorzal got closer.

"You have now. So, Marx, are you with me? Help me talk to the Senate and you can rule by my side!"

Marx swallowed uncomfortably. "There... There are rules for this... um, your Highness, maybe... you could discuss this with your father?"

Zorzal scowled, his face an inch away from Marx's. The latter's was a mask of frozen fear, betraying his intention to flee. Zorzal ran a forked tongue over his teeth, relishing the sensation of fear that he could almost taste.

"That a no, Marx?" he hissed.

Marx's legs froze, instinctively locking in place. "Your... Your Highness! N... No, I meant that maybe, um... maybe you could..." his voice gave out as Zorzal gripped his shoulder with a clawed hand.

"That's a no," Zorzal said, and focused on Marx. The target gasped as Zorzal's presence swept throughout his mind. He took a moment to look through, before giving the Minister some instructions.

Zorzal broke away from his victim, waiting in anticipation. Marx had calmed down, his fear a thing of the past. Calmly, without emotion, he said, "Of course, Prince Zorzal. I'll inform the Senate immediately."

Zorzal watched Marx leave, pleased. He had no idea how he was controlling others' minds, but he didn't really care. All he knew was that he would have completely loyal, devout servants. He had left Marx's body unaltered, but Zorzal felt that he was capable of changing a person's physical form as well. Not to be as powerful as he was, but to become stronger than any human. It was a gift of power, like what Amon had gifted him. Who could he enhance first? Was there a loyal servant who served him that was deserving of such a gift?

Of course! His newest slave, the queen of the warrior bunnies, Tyuule. She was already strong and capable. The only problem was her annoying willpower, but that could be fixed. With his gifts, she would make a great servant. Having made up his mind, Zorzal ordered one of the guards to summon her to his room.

Tyuule was quickly brought to the room, dressed in little more than rags. The guard handed over the chain that connected to Tyuule's iron collar before hurrying out as quickly as protocol would allow.

Zorzal ignored him, focusing on Tyuule. Despite her run-down attire, she was indeed beautiful. The bunny ears that extended from her head, the curves of her body... the delicious look of absolute terror on her face.

Without wasting more time on words, Zorzal began. With a yank on the chain, he forced the slave closer, before reaching out and pressing a palm on her forehead. He entered her mind and immediately felt that it was different from the others.

"What... What's happening?" Tyuule slurred, her mind resisting Zorzal's efforts. The boiling rage at her humiliation and her utter hatred of the prince manifested themselves in the form of a mental barrier, preventing Zorzal from invading her mind.

Momentarily stunned at the resistance, Zorzal stumbled mentally, allowing Tyuule to jerk away and break the connection between them. Growling in anger, Zorzal grabbed her throat, preventing Tyuule from escaping, and channeled his mind again.

Tyuule gasped as Zorzal attacked again, now prepared for her defense. He used no strategy to overcome her, simply drawing upon the power that Amon gave him to overwhelm her. Forcing his way into her mind, he saw her thoughts, clear as if his own.

She was not broken, after all. Even enslaved, Tyuule schemed to bring him down. To gain his trust then manipulate him to force a war the Empire couldn't win. Preposterous! The Protoss may be powerful, but they were no match for the brave men of the Imperial Army. Especially not led by him.

It didn't matter, anyway.

Zorzal released Tyuule from his mental grip, happy with his work. She fell back limply, collapsing onto the floor, and Zorzal frowned. Had he accidentally killed her? With the amount of power he used, that was a definite possibility.

To his relief, Tyuule sat up a moment later, holding her head groggily.

"Ah, you're awake! How do you feel?" Zorzal asked her.

Tyuule replied almost immediately, despite her possible injuries, "I am well, Prince Zorzal. How may I serve?"

"Prince?" Zorzal mused, "I think Emperor sounds better, don't you? Call me Emperor Zorzal. It has a nice ring to it, hmm? Besides, if Marx does his job, dear old father should be giving me the throne soon."

"Of course, Emperor Zorzal," Tyuule replied. Probably having had no idea what he just said. Zorzal sighed, but then perked up again when he remembered that he was planning to strengthen Tyuule.

Of course, he had no idea exactly how to do it, but that wasn't going to stop him. First would probably be to decide what he wanted to change and keep. Bunny warriors were said to have powerful legs, maybe he could work on that. Coming up with a design in his head, Zorzal wondered what to do next.

Putting a hand on the subdued Tyuule's head, he closed his eyes and concentrated, expressing his will to strengthen his servant. Zorzal could feel the power flowing into her, changing her slowly.

Soon, he sensed that it was enough, and opened his eyes. Tyuule had been encased in a fleshy green cocoon, upon which his palm rested. Dimly, Zorzal remembered that the Hybrid had done something similar to him before.

After she emerged from the cocoon, Tyuule would be like him. A god among men. The difference was that he, Emperor Zorzal, answered to no one, while Tyuule would be bound to his will. She would make a perfect servant. And if she could satisfy him, she may become his queen.

Within her cocoon, Tyuule began to change.

The door to his bedroom burst open violently, almost ripped off their hinges.

"Zorzal! What is the meaning of this?!" Emperor Molt bellowed, his voice echoing around the chamber. Only then did he realize the state of the room, and the rest of his words were forgotten.

The room, once beautifully decorated, was now a mess. The ground was covered in a slimy purple substance that sucked at his boots, and the walls seemed to have living flesh growing on them. The entire room seemed to be breathing, in fact, slowly pulsating with life.

Zorzal himself was apparently busy, having his way with someone that Molt couldn't see, apart from a pair of disfigured legs. Hearing the yell, Zorzal turned to look at his father, casually pulling a cloth over to cover himself.

"Ah, father, it seems you've got my message," Zorzal began.

That snapped Molt out of his stupor. Doing his utmost best to ignore the disgusting state of the room, he demanded, "You dare threaten the entire Senate? You dare demand my throne?! How did you get Marx to deliver that message anyway?"

Zorzal grinned evilly, "So you did get the message. Marx managed that at least."

Molt was decidedly unamused by Zorzal's attitude, "Explain yourself immediately! What gives you the right to crown yourself Emperor? Where have you been? What did you do to the room?"

"I was destined to rule, father! The Empire will stand unchallenged under my rule," Zorzal confidently claimed.

"Not even the great Empire can prosper when led by a fool."

Zorzal snorted in derision, "You are weak, father. The Protoss destroyed your forces and humiliated the Empire. How can you still sit on your throne while they still live? Why do they still live?"

Molt bristled at the insult. "Enough," he declared. "This has gone too far. Apologize to the Senate immediately, say it was a mistake, and maybe you'll get out of this alive," he said, then added in disgust, "And clean up this room. I don't know what you did to it, and I don't want to, but it's disgusting."

"You cannot stop me now, father. I'm more powerful than you can imagine. Maybe if you give me my throne immediately, then you may survive to see my rule."

Molt narrowed his eyes and said, "It seems that you are no longer willing to listen to reason. Guards, take him to the dungeon. Then get someone to clean this up."

The four soldiers - the Emperor's personal guard - advanced, swords and shields out. Ignoring their feelings of disgust, they made their way deeper into the room, mentally groaning as the slime clung to their boots. Zorzal made no move to defend himself, instead merely asking, "Hey, Tyuule. Handle this, won't you?"

The moment he finished his question, Tyuule leaped up from her prone position on the bed, vaulting over Zorzal and landing on a guard, hard enough to crumple his helmet and force him to collapse into a heap. The others turned to face Tyuule, who stood straight from the crouch in which she landed.

Her legs now sported the brown carapace of the Zerg, ending in large three-clawed feet. They bit deeply into the metal helmet of her victim, almost tearing it apart. Tyuule's arms were similarly covered in carapace and her hands had clawed fingers. Her torso was a messy combination of human and Zerg - like the result of an inexperienced artist. She still sported her bunny ears, except that she now had a crown of small spikes around her head. Also, she was naked.

The three remaining guards' training cover came their fear and they attacked as one, swords slashing. Tyuule simply leaped straight over them, landing behind the three guards. It took only one spinning kick to send all three of them flying.

Zorzal stood up as Tyuule bowed and moved aside, allowing him to look straight at Emperor Molt's astonished expression. He raised his right arm, pointing at his father. The armor along his arm clicked and changed, and a sword-like bone spike protruded out from the carapace on his forearm, passing over the back of his hand to form a deadly blade. Zorzal laughed, a mad man's crackle.

"The Empire is mine!"

A/N: A longer one (author's note, not chapter) this time, I've got a lot to say. First off, hey! How dare you assume that I, Emperor Zorzal, am dead?! Seriously, though, I didn't even try to make it seem that he died...

Prince Idiot is back in the scene, and so is Tyuule, who, as I've said, won't have her own story arc. Sorry. Zorzal's still an idiot, but he's now a powerful Zerg idiot running an empire. Definitely not good news.

Also, yes, infested Zorzal was having creepy sex with infested Tyuule. That cursed image appeared in my head and I couldn't get rid of it. Hence, I now doom you all to having it stuck in your heads as well.

Anyway, I know third recon's been missing for quite a few chapters already, but good news, the preparations are complete. Next chapter brings the focus back to them, starting with their visit to Hardy.