What shall happen next my servant and brother, will paint a most vivid picture to the Queen of Blades. May it be used for good and not evil...
Kerrigan was glad that Nataphos did not show himself. She would have torn and clawed him on the spot he stood on if he revealed his location. It did not help that his presence still whispered to her every now and then. She had much, much greater problems than to deal with that jester of philosophy, that enlightened mocker. In just two hours after Nataphos disappeared, the Queen of Blades realized what he had unleashed upon her kingdom. Outside her lair, a plague raged, tearing havoc on the city of flesh and fluid. Her minions and buildings were dying in the most heinous ways. Her active broods staggered in mild confusion as some lost their mental links to the rest of the swarm, allowing their hunter-killer minds to take over. Her own body was in torment as open, bleeding sores broke out on her flesh, tattering her body into agony. Her brain boiled with fever while her lungs were scorched like an inferno as she coughed up corrupted sputum. She screamed, as best she could, in rage.
Suddenly, other than Nataphos, here was an enemy raging open war against them and there was nothing she could do. It must have traveled through the creep, quickly infecting each and every Zerg building. The diseased hatcheries, hives and lairs hatched infected Zerg creatures. Inside them, the plague, whatever it was, became airborne. It seemed to have a particularly devastating effect upon the evolution chambers of the Zerg species, the darkened, corrupted corpses of the chambers collapsed in death within a few scarce hours of being infected. By the time the plague was recognized, the Queen of Blades had few evolution chambers on hand to try and mutate an immunity. All experiments failed and the last evolution chamber died quickly after. A tormented part of her mind suspected that whatever this plague was, it was specifically made to hunt out a single genome: that of the Zerg.
Unknown to her, Nataphos walked through her kingdom, surveying the wreckage. He was no longer hiding in the shadows, his form visible to all. None of the Zerg thought to report his presence. Their minds were just as bad as the vile, blackish creep that sludged the ground, no longer as fluid as it used to be. The corrupted black ooze was little comfort to the dying creatures and buildings that literally drowned in it during their final moments. The retrovirus that did this had only one purpose: to target and destroy the genetic profile that made up all Zerg. Its visible effects were sickening to watch. The buildings sunk in on themselves, their protective membranes giving away. Defiler mounds and Ultralisk caverns, the home of not only the vicious creatures but toxic and radioactive materials, sloughed away. In turn, their harmful contents reacted on the nearby Zerg creatures who were no longer immune to the deleterious effects. Zerglings writhed in pain as their flesh gave way and their organs died within their bodies long before their overworked hearts finally decided to stop. Defilers were eaten alive, albeit slowly, by the virus as well as by the parasites and corrosive materials their bodies housed. Hydralisks collapsed and bled out, spreading greenish, vile blood while numerous cancers ravaged their broken bodies. The mutalisks fell out of the skies, their bodies ravaged by the very parasite they carried as weapons. Devouers and Guardians had their stomachs eaten out by the acids they carried, the corrosive contents raining down on their fellow Zergs, aggravating their already mind blowing agony. The doomed flying beasts lingered on until the virus hit their hearts before falling out of the sky and crashing into the ground.
The overlords suffered a different strain of the plague. The retrovirus attacked their minds. The few minions under their control who were not completely incapacitated by the virus displayed symptoms of schizophrenia, bi-polarism, heightened aggression, dementia and a host of other mental disorders. These added to their sufferings, the overlords victims of the various mental diseases themselves before they finally collapsed and decayed in the already diseased soup of misery.
Nataphos levitated over the hellish sludge, inspecting what he saw. Salivating vile red and black secretions, an Ultralisk hobbled over to him, intent on slicing him in half with its kaiser blades. In its diseased mind, it poorly coordinated the use of its blade and disemboweled an already mindless low flying overlord. Nataphos simply ignited one of his blades from his metallic wristbands and plunged it into the monster's head. It collapsed with a heavy boom, splaying the black sludge everywhere. Disgusted, Nataphos simply radiated the white energy and burnt off every atom of the vile fluid.
The prophet and philosopher continued his grim trek through the kingdom. A dying queen fell out of the sky and landed next to him, gasping violently in its dying breaths. It aborted a deformed and pale broodling before dying in a catastrophic death rattle. Next to him, a Hydralisk growled weakly as it laid on the ground. Some of its flesh had simply fell or rotted off in large patches all over its body, revealing in some parts it skeleton or diseased organ systems. One eye had already rotted away while its once dangerous needle spines had now impaled its own internal system. It growled weakly again at Nataphos, having watched him slay the Ultralisk. Nataphos knelt down and regarded the creature.
"You have killed in war twenty four marines of the Dominion. Eighteen were once convicts. The other five were volunteers. One of the volunteers was a father of three and proper husband. When he died, the family fell into poverty and now live in suffering. Another four Protoss zealots have died by you in hope to gain back their homeworld. The souls of the Terrans have gone to eternity, the Protoss to the Khala. Your weaker soul will not survive, you have only this mortal existence. Continue now to drink from your now most bitter cup of life, for only oblivion awaits you." Nataphos judged before walking away.
The prophet regarded the kingdom of death around him and heard the souls of the Zerg around him disintegrate. One soul, stronger than the others, screamed now physically as it had done for a much longer time mystically. He would have to visit that one tomorrow. In the meantime, he was forced to marvel at the utter destruction caused by something so small before him. Nataphos could not help but describe what he saw by quoting something written by an ancientTerran so long ago.
"I am the way into the city of woe. I am the way to a forsaken people. I am the way into eternal sorrow. Sacred justice moved my architect. I was raised here by divine omnipotence, primordial love and ultimate intellect. Only those elements time cannot wear were made before me and beyond time I stand. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."