Impossible, Absolutely Impossible

Narud did not know what crime he had committed to warrant a human sovereign dispatching the Nerazim Protoss's shadow guard to arrest him. Even dealing with every Cerebrate in the Char Swarm probably would not require so many Dark Templar.

As though he truly were some monstrous calamity.

From the shadows beneath the bright lights of the mirror hall corridor, Dark Templar appeared one after another, their purple robes flowing and their faces veiled in long gauze, silent as wandering spirits. In an instant, every light went out, and Psionic Blades glittering with vivid green life pierced the darkness.

Killing intent lurked everywhere, cold enough to chill one to the bone.

Narud immediately put on a look of startled shock. He was already frail with age, on the verge of the grave, and his thin, withered body trembled beneath the almost tangible chill of Void energy.

"Dark... Templar!" Even his voice shook as he spoke, though his tawny eyes were frighteningly still. "What is happening?"

Narud knew that many powerful Dark Templar had volunteered as Augustus Mengsk's palace guards. Ordered by the Nerazim matriarch or the Dark Prelate, they stood watch here, but they had never served as executioners against humans. He had long known that astonishing numbers of Dark Templar hid in the palace corridors, but he had not expected them to be there for him.

He received no answer.

Intertwining, crisscrossing shadows spread over the corridor's thick carpet. More Dark Templar emerged from the darkness, their blades burning brightly as arcs of Void-powered electricity crackled. They stood in ranks along both sides of the broad hallway, like ferocious demons guarding a temple.

In the flickering light and shadow, Narud saw a terrible scar on one Dark Templar's gray, layered, horn-like face. The tear ran across his entire face