Vorazun cut another Warden marine in half. There wasn’t any blood, but Vorazun didn’t care. Her mind was so covered with anger and remorse that such a small detail didn’t even cross her mind.

Behind her the Nerazim forces were already down to half its former numbers. The hallways of this ship was really a meat grinder. The Warden forces knew no fear, and they took the best defensive positions and fought until their last second, making sure they could fire off another extra shots before they die.

Turning around the last corner, the remaining forces reached the bridge of the ship.

Jean wanted to meet and engage Vorazun in a closed location so she could assassin the matriarch, but she needed to make it look like she was desperate to lure Vorazun inside. Two dozen Warden units were positioned before the door, ready to be sacrificed for exactly this reason.

Vorazun disappeared in a trail of smoke…

Jean took a few steps back in fear as the metal door was cut open by Vorazun. Behind her twenty dead Warden units were scattered around on the ground.

“Who are you and why did you attack us?” Vorazun asked furiously. Even now she hadn’t understand where this giant fleet came from and who was in command. Keep in mind Vorazun had heard about Jean from Zeratul but had never seen the girl.

“My names is Jean. Jean Turner.” Jean noticed the dark templars were entering the bridge, and she took another few steps back. Once all the dark templars were in the bridge she would act.

“You’re the fool that believed we will join the dark god? You’re delusional,” Vorazun glanced around, “And now countless innocent have died because of your foolishness. Now, call off your fleet and I will make you death be swift.”

“I can do that.” Jean provoked. “But that will be quite pointless, considering your people are already gone.” She gestured outside the window.

Vorazun looked out the window, almost afraid of what she would see. What she saw almost made her blade slip out of her hand.

The Nerazim fleet was gone. It was already near defeat when Vorazun boarded the Warden flag ship. Completely surrounded, hopelessly outnumbered, and even more hopelessly outgunned, it was a wonder the Nerazim fleet took this long to be wiped out.

Outside, pieces of void rays were being collected and dismantled for minerals. Random survivors were hunted down by high speed wraith, mirages, and phoenixes.

And then, with spiritless eyes, Vorazun looked at her homeworld, and saw giant explosions on the surface of the planet. The flames were so bright they were even visible from space.

“Jean!” She roared with disbelief and turned back to the girl, the monster. “What have you done?”

Jean knew all she needed to do was add one more insult and the matriarch would lose her last sense of logic. “I am destroying your planet so I can bring an end to your race.” The brutal words came out of her red lips as easily as a random ‘how are you’ between friends.

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That was it. Vorazun had had enough. Weapon in her hand, she jumped into the air and launched herself at Jean. Never mind blinking. Never mind cloaking. Never mind stealth. She wanted the girl before her to see death coming. She wanted the butcher to suffer and fear before she die.

And then she saw Jean’s body transforming. Terran to zerg. Human to monster. Weak to strong. Jean noticed all the Nerazim were in the bridge, which meant she no longer needed to hide.

Jean lowered her head and dodged the swing of the scythe. She had never understood why someone would use such as inefficient weapon. The blade was so short, and the vulnerable handle was needlessly long. The weapon was more intimidating then deadly. In some cases, like now, one could easily dodge the blade and then grab onto the stick.

Vorazun didn’t expect Jean’s transformation. Most of the enemies she faced couldn’t respond in time to her strike. The neural reflex of marines, for example, meant that they would be cut in half before they could see it coming. The matriarch looked at the transformed girl, and she realized the girl wasn’t as defenseless as she expected.

Usually when Vorazun meets a worthy foe she would duel with the enemy fair and square. Not this time.

“Warriors, aid me...” Vorazun’s cry for help was cut off by the sound of bodies collapsing. She turned around mechanically. Please don’t.

All the Nerazim that were with her were either dead or dying. The shadow guard that comforted her laid lifeless on the floor with a wound through his neck, almost severing his head. At least 40 yellow protoss robots came out of nowhere and took the dark templars down with overwhelming numbers. They had the element of surprise, and the Nerazim were tired and wounded. Their concentrations were focused on Vorazun and Jean. It was hardly a fair fight, and the shadow guards went down uncharacteristically quickly.

Still trying to recover from the turn of event, Vorazun’s psi energy screamed a warning to her. Turning back, she saw a fist closing in. Jean had no sense of honor and didn’t miss the opportunity to strike.

The punch was blocked by Vorazun’s shield, but the immense kinetic energy the fist carried penetrated the already weakened shield. Vorazun used the chance to blink back from the hit and slightly away from Jean, but she was still in the bridge, surrounded.

“I…You will die!” The matriarch really had nothing else to live for. Her people were gone. Her planet was gone. Even her most loyal followers just perished before her eyes. She had lost everything. The only thing she had left was a chance to avenge her fallen people. She screamed and charged with no plan of surviving.

Jean wielded her bone blades at the incoming danger.

The two crossed each other in one split second.

A drop of red blood fell on the metal ground.

Vorazun’s eyes went dim. A penetrating wound on her chest took away all strength within her. With her last moments she glanced at the handle of her scythe. It was stained red.

Protoss blood is blue or purple.

Grinning and thinking she had killed Jean, Vorazun collapsed and melted into thin air. Her weapon laidon the ground, ownerless and spiritless.

Jean coughed and glanced down on her wound. A wide opening went from her left stomach to her right shoulder blade, almost cutting her in half. Luckily she was able to step back at the last half of a second. If she didn’t she would be in two pieces right now. The instant damage a dark templar could do was insane. The instant damage of a dark templar hero is even more insane.

But Vorazun failed to kill her in one hit, which meant Jean’s zerg essence could take action. Cells regenerated. Wounds mended. A minute later it was as if she was never injured.

She wasted no time. “All units warp to assign coordinates. The Golden Armada will be freed soon, and I have no intention of being around when they are here.”