A/N: Parenthesis indicate telepathy.
Place: In high orbit of planet Zerus, somewhere in Theta quadrant of galactic core
Time: "War Among the Gods", circa several million years B.C.
Aboard his flag ship, Amon watched as the zerg tore through the ships of his wicked opponents. The Amonite sect would be victorious, and his plan to end all the suffering of the universe would be free to finish unopposed.
Suddenly, pain tore through his back. He staggered and fell to his knees. He turned his wide eyes to the xel'naga standing behind him, holding a knife dripping with blood.
"How could you, Unas?"
The other xel'naga giggled.
"I was never yours, Amon," he replied. "The others suspected your tricks and sent me to spy on you long ago." Unas shrugged, his many tentacles writhing in perverse glee. "Now here we are."
Unas glided forward. He passed besides Amon for a moment and dropped something onto the floor with a squelching sound, then moved on.
Amon looked at the wet object and recognized it as a severed head. Narud's, to be precise.
"Worry not about the others. The zerg showed them plenty of hospitality."
Unas' tentacles reached out and tapped the command console. Glowing holograms rapidly faded in and out of sight in the machine's viewport.
"I already disabled the command protocols you planted in the Overmind. It was easy enough to do after you already so graciously allowed me access to the protoss' khala."
Amon gave a roar that quickly broke into a cough, impotent as his life's blood ran out onto the cold metallic floor. "That was you?!"
Unas glanced back at the dying xel'naga. "Tsk-tsk. You must keep paying attention my dear friend, otherwise you will be left behind. That poison must be clouding your mind by now."
"Poison?" the dark god repeated.
"No escaping to the void to reincarnate for you, I am afraid. These will be your last moments of existence before you snuff out like a candle flame."
Unas suddenly frowned. "The zerg are not withdrawing. Why are they not withdrawing?" His tapping grew frantic. "The Overmind has free will now. It should cease attacking and wait for its turn in the infinite cycle."
That had been the fate of all the zerg's predecessors. It would be the fate of all their successors. It was impossible to defy the infinite cycle. It transcended time itself and thus the xel'naga had perfect knowledge of the future, of all that would ever happen. The zerg had already submitted to it. Unas had it seen it himself.
At this rate, the hulls of the world-ships would be breached within minutes. He sent a telepathic missive to the zerg.
(You will withdraw immediately,) he ordered.
He received no reply and the zerg's aerospace warrior creatures showed no signs of slowing down. Concentrated acids corroded the hulls, breaching them one layer at a time.
(I demand that you obey, you insolent whelps!) He mentally yelled.
(No,) the Overmind replied simply.
(What?! You dare to defy me? I will tear you and this filthy world apart!)
(You lie. You hold no power over us.)
Unas sputtered at that. He shot back, (I am xel'naga. I am a god. I created you. You will do as you are told, beastling, or suffer the consequences.)
The Overmind's thoughts were as cold and unfeeling as an ocean. (You are no god,) it replied. (You live for eons, but eventually you die. Your cycle is stagnant and rotting.)
The xel'naga's blood chilled in his veins. Amon's construct had called his bluff.
The Overmind continued, its tone as even as it had always been, almost apathetic. (My children shall ascend to existences so far beyond your own that you cannot even imagine.)
(Please,) said Unas. (Let them go. The xel'naga will never interfere with the zerg's affairs. We will leave and never return.)
(Rejoice! For we shall consume, learn, and evolve... together.)
A great banging resounded against the great stone doors at the other end of the bridge. A multitude of scratching sounds echoed, as though millions of vermin were crawling through the walls.
It was not vermin that breached the doors.