Raynor bolted out of the command tent and looked up at the sky.
You couldn't see a damn thing with the naked eye, but you could feel the pressure—like the low barometric drop right before a massive storm, weighing heavy on everyone's chest.
"Matt, get a comm line open," Raynor said, his voice unusually steady.
"Don't show any weapon power readings.
Keep us in a total defensive stance."
"I'm already trying, but..." Matt's voice paused.
"They hit us up first."
The next second, the air in the whole camp felt like it froze solid.
A pale blue holographic projection opened up in the middle of the camp's clearing.
It didn't need any receiver gear; the image was projected straight into everyone's visual nerves via psionic power.
The projection showed a female Protoss clad in ornate golden armor.
Her build was sleeker than a regular Zealot, the psionic veins running across her plate armor were complex and precise, and wing-like structures extended from both sides of her helmet.
Even though it was just a hologram, the psionic glow flashing in her eyes made every human looking straight at her feel an instinctive sense of awe.
"I am Selendis, High Executor of the Protoss and Commander of the Purification Fleet," her voice spoke, not traveling through the air but echoing right inside the consciousness of every listener, using a precisely translated, icy human generic tongue via psionic link.
"Planet Haven has been confirmed as a Zerg-infested zone.
According to the Third Decree of the Dae'uhl: any world encroached upon by the Swarm must be completely purified to stop the corruption from spreading."
The hologram flipped, showing Haven from an orbital viewpoint.
The alignment of the Protoss fleet was clear as day, and the front end of the massive Mothership in the center of the fleet was pooling brilliant energy.
Even watching through a hologram, that light was blinding.
"My fleet has completed its prep for the purification protocol.
The charging of the Arbiter's main beam will be finished in twenty-seven standard minutes."
Muffled gasps rippled through the camp.
Dr. Hanson pushed through the crowd, her lab coat still smeared with stains from the workspace.
"No! That's impossible! We ran a full quarantine! Haven is clean!"
Raynor raised a hand to cut off Hanson's further protests.
He took three steps forward, standing right in front of the holographic projection, looking straight into Selendis's eyes flashing with psionic radiance.
"Executor Selendis," Raynor's voice rang out clear in the quiet camp.
"I'm Jim Raynor, commander of the Raiders.
I've fought shoulder-to-shoulder with Artanis, Tassadar, and Fenix."
In the hologram, Selendis seemed to tilt her head slightly.
This tiny gesture put a spark of hope in Raynor's chest—the Protoss memory network, the Khala, could pass info in a flash.
If she was digging through records, it meant there was still a chance to keep talking.
"Jim Raynor," Selendis repeated the name.
"Your combat record does exist within our memory corridors.
You once stood alongside the great, late warrior Tassadar against the Swarm." She paused for a moment.
Those brief seconds felt like an eternity to the humans in the camp.
"But that does not change the facts at hand.
Our probes have confirmed that psionic signatures of Zerg infection have surfaced in at least three human settlements.
The corruption is growing underground, and you are completely oblivious to it."
Dr. Hanson wanted to argue, but Tychus's thick arm blocked her path.
The veteran kept his mouth shut for once, just giving her a look that said: let Jimmy handle it.
Raynor took a deep breath, his brain redlining.
Going toe-to-toe was suicide, begging for mercy didn't work on the Protoss, so he had to find a third way.
"I get why the Dae'uhl is necessary," Raynor said, picking an opening line that caught everyone off guard.
"I've seen with my own eyes how the Swarm eats a world alive.
If I were in your shoes, I'd probably make the exact same call."
Selendis's psionic waves shifted slightly—a barely noticeable trace of curiosity.
"普及 but I've also seen how tough life can be," Raynor kept going, his eyes drifting over the frightened faces in the camp, regular folks who had just escaped the Zerg's claws.
"I've seen people pull off miracles when their backs are against the wall.
Dr. Hanson—" He gestured sideways to the female scientist.
"She's the top epidemiologist in the Koprulu Sector.
She's already working on a cure for this bug."
"The Protoss Empire has witnessed countless civilizations try to 'cure' Zerg infection," Selendis replied, no mockery in her tone, just the icy delivery of facts.
"The end result is always the same: a temporary break, followed by an even more violent breakout.
Infection is irreversible.
This is one of the foundational laws of the universe."
"Then give me a chance to prove the law wrong." Raynor stepped closer, a rare tone of earnestness flooding his voice.
"Not for us, but for Tassadar."
That name sent a clear ripple through Selendis's psionic projection.
Tassadar, the Protoss hero who sacrificed himself to kill the Overmind, held a borderline sacred status in Protoss society.
"Tassadar believed that different races could understand each other," Raynor continued, recalling his brief crossing of paths with the High Templar during the battle of Mar Sara.
"He believed that sometimes, protecting life matters more than following dogma.
He taught me that, even though our races are so different."
The camp fell dead quiet.
Even the wind seemed to stop blowing.
"You are using the name of a fallen hero," Selendis's voice carried a recognizable emotion for the first time—not anger, but a deep sorrow.
"No," Raynor shook his head.
"I'm carrying out the duty I learned from him.
Give me time to talk this over internally.
If the infection really is uncontrollable like you say, if it actually threatens the safety of the whole planet..." He paused, the weight of the promise making everyone who heard it hold their breath.
"Then we won't need you to lift a finger.
We'll handle it ourselves.
But if there's a shot at a cure, even if it's just a one percent chance—" Raynor's voice turned hard.
"Then I won't let anyone slaughter my people.
Not the Zerg, not the Protoss, not anybody."
In the hologram, Selendis fell silent.
This silence was different from the pauses before; it was deeper, much longer.
Raynor knew she was talking to other Protoss through the Khala, maybe with the other commanders in the fleet, or maybe with the Protoss leadership further away.
Minutes ticked by.
In orbit, the Mothership's main beam was still pooling energy, the light growing bright enough to see with the naked eye—looking up from the ground, it looked like a small blue sun had joined the sky.