We Meet Again

The wind carried the scent of burning metal and blood as Archinsyne wandered the desolate plains of Planet Talven-9.

He was not a soldier, nor was he a savior. He had no allegiance, no purpose, no desire to fight.

Yet, something had drawn him here. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was merely a dying man's curiosity, one last look at the galaxy before he faded into nothingness.

He had seen countless battles in his lifetime. He had watched civilizations rise and crumble like dust in the wind.

He had loved, he had lost, and now, he simply existed, a phantom walking among the living.

The sky overhead was a tapestry of cosmic light, distant stars shimmering through the thick haze of war.

Archinsyne's gaze traveled over the battlefield, watching as soldiers clashed with monstrous Zergs, their bodies moving in a dance of survival and slaughter.