I'm panting, hunkered down behind a heap of rubble, as if I hadn't learned by now that these Zerg monsters can somehow sense where I am. Ammo, stealth energy, Raynor's Rangers - everything and everyone is gone. Fuck it. I stand up, facing the writhing mass of chitinous claws, glowing eyes, and pulsating goo, and wait for my doom. The tentacled creatures gather round me in triumph, but they remain as still as myself, and a chill runs down my spine as I sense another, greater, older presence...
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