If You Don't Fight GG, You Retreat

With a conviction to face death and an aggressive fighting spirit, the mighty, magnificently contoured Hyperion charged unflinchingly through a battlefield woven with gunfire and littered with countless dead. Beyond its portholes blazed the spectacular orange-red flashes of explosions, fragments of warships, and the enormous, blood-soaked corpses of Zerg. The towering vessel was shrouded in a magnificent halo.

In the deep darkness of space, the flashes and shockwaves unleashed by cannon fire and exploding warships were like novas igniting in the dead of night, as though the stars themselves were shining.

Standing aboard the battered Hyperion as it pressed onward, Matt Horner recalled the first time he had gone into space. He had sat on the stern deck of the Taradorn ocean fishing vessel, gazing up at the clear night sky. The boundless black heavens stretched overhead, glittering with countless dazzling stars that stirred the imagination, larger and brighter than any he had seen before. The sky had been full of starlight, radiant and splendid.

Perhaps this universe had never been as beautiful as humanity imagined. Humans had traveled among the stars for only a few centuries and remained as ignorant as apes that had stared at the sky for thousands of years.

Yet it was precisely because of this that even the Protoss admired humanity's ignorant yet fearless courage. This young race might possess as many virtues as flaws.

He suddenly remembered what people said: that everyone became a star in the sky after they died.

We are becoming stars.

The deeper they pushed into the heart of the vast Zerg sea, the more Overlords, Mutalisks, and Corruptors swarmed through the barrage.

These horrific monsters clung to the Hyperion's groaning forged-alloy armor with sharp claws, pressing their malicious yellow eyes against the overloaded porthole glass and glaring savagely inside.