The Overmind was almost moved to tears.
After so many years—after centuries of searching this dark, stagnant galaxy—he had finally found evidence of those two unlucky rivals. The Protoss Pylon he had discovered was embedded in a jagged asteroid fragment, drifting aimlessly through the void. It looked as though it had been wandering the currents of the Milky Way for an eternity.
"Where are you, old friend? Don't tell me there's only one pylon left in this whole sector. Show yourself—I've been waiting far too long to start mass-producing Hybrids."
However, even after the Overmind dispatched dozens of Brood Queens to scour the surrounding star systems, no further signs of a Protoss presence appeared. Even the pylon itself was a ruin; its surface was scarred by ancient weapons fire, and its Khaydarin core had gone dark, the energy field collapsed due to critical damage.
"If only they had left me a single Protoss corpse to work with. Sigh."
He knew he was being optimistic. Protoss biology was elusive; their bodies typically dissolved into pure energy or were teleported back to the Matrix of Khala upon death. Unless it was a Tal'darim "Apostle"—warriors so cold and disconnected that no one would mourn their permanent passing—finding usable Protoss DNA in a foreign galaxy was nearly impossible.
"My Sovereign."
The voice of Sarah Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, resonated within his mind.
"What is it, my daughter?"
"You may find this... interesting."
Through Kerrigan's eyes, the Overmind beheld a sight that froze his psychic core: a suit of CMC Powered Combat Armor, the unmistakable bulk of a Terran Marine.
"Where did you find this?"
"In a T'au museum. It appears to be a relic acquired during their early periods of interstellar trade."
The Overmind was momentarily stunned, but on second thought, it made sense. The T'au were exactly the kind of pragmatic race that would trade with the two human factions from the StarCraft sector. While the Terrans lacked the Zerg's numbers and the Protoss's technological godhood, their humanoid forms allowed them to blend into the power structures of this galaxy far more easily.
"Is this the only piece? Are there other technologies?"
"A small cache of weapons remains in the archives."
The Overmind swiftly scanned the data on the recovered gear. He felt a wave of relief. The "Human Transmigrator" who had sold these items wasn't a fool; he had only traded standard-issue C-14 Gauss Rifles and basic equipment. The technological level was roughly on par with the Imperium's PDF—perfect for ripping off the T'au, who at the time knew nothing of the wider galaxy's weapons market.
"This trade occurred approximately two to three thousand years ago," Kerrigan noted. "The T'au long ago abandoned these 'primitive' designs in favor of their own Pulse weaponry."
The Overmind chuckled. "If the T'au had actually mastered the physics behind a Terran stimpack or the CMC-300 suit, they would be steamrolling Imperial infantry by now. They wouldn't beat a Space Marine, but they'd give the mortal guardsmen a thrashing they'd never forget."
"They were never able to mass-produce the suits," Kerrigan added, pulling memories from the Infested T'au under her control. "Additionally, the Leagues of Votann—who collaborated with the T'au—provided more durable alternatives. They had no reason to keep using Terran gear."
"Ah, the Votann. I almost forgot they existed."
The Leagues of Votann were a faction often overlooked, even by the Overmind. Descended from the humans of the Golden Age of Technology, they had evolved into something different: shorter, hardier, and naturally resistant to the Warp. Guided by the artificial intelligences known as the Ironkin and worshipping the massive Ancestry Cores, they were a race of high-tech space dwarves.
"Do you wish for me to move against them, Sovereign?"
"No, my daughter. They are like stones: hard, stubborn, and ultimately worthless to us right now."
The Overmind preferred fighting Orks and Imperial humans—they were much "tastier" in terms of biomass and psionic potential. The Votann, with their AI-assisted weaponry and stubborn resilience, were effectively flesh-and-blood Necrons. They were notoriously vengeful, and while they didn't have a literal "Book of Grudges" like the dwarves of ancient myth, they were known to hunt enemies for centuries.
"They stay in the galactic core, a place where even the Imperium fears to tread. We won't waste our strength on them yet. Let them rot in their mines; we'll deal with them after the other races have been purged."
"And the Pylon?"
"Bring it back to Abathur. Even if he can't reverse-engineer the psionic matrix, keep it as a trophy. Protoss architecture is a rarity in any universe."
As the Brood Queen consumed the massive crystal structure to transport it, the Overmind began a new deployment. With the fall of Cadia confirmed, he placed his Queens and "Eyes of the Overmind" within the Ultramar system. He needed to monitor Macragge and the movements of the Ultramarines.
He felt a pang of regret. He had been so focused on conquering the Tiamat Hive Fleet and subverting the T'au that he had missed the opening moves of the Thirteenth Black Crusade.
"I could have lent a hand at Cadia... but no matter. If the gate is broken, let the Warp surge. My nests are stable; we can win a war of attrition against Daemons. My only concern is the 'Four' themselves."
The Overmind knew that despite his power, he was only a demigod in this realm. He needed to be cautious.
"One more thing," he projected to his brood. "If you encounter the Eldar—specifically those wearing the green-and-white armor of Biel-Tan—do not slaughter them indiscriminately. I need them."
The Swarm relied too heavily on his direct command. Without him, the Zerg lacked the "purity" needed to navigate the Warp. He still hadn't solved the mystery of manipulating units within the Immaterium.
"If we are to find the Protoss or the Terrans, the Eldar are our best map. Capture them. Control them. But keep their minds intact. We have gods to hunt."