Deep in the Jin Air castle, through the halls of warp distortion, past the winding corridors of gravitational anomalies, was the entrance to The Temple of Nerazim. Locked behind two miscolored doors lavishly decorated with intricate geometric patterns, it was a marvelous sanctuary. Khalani poetry lined the walls, arrayed in complex spirals and interweaving circles; Xel'naga artifacts were displayed on alcoves; khaydarin crystals floated in mid-air, assimilating the energies around them. It was a veritable museum of antiquities that you couldn't name even if you tried.

The shrine lay in abyssal darkness, a thick shroud of blackness broken only by the warmth of levitating gems. At the room's very center, deep in meditation, face calm and body perfectly still, was sOs. The Protoss master looked at peace where he sat, in complete silence, but his mind was in chaos.

It had started harmlessly, much as it always did.

Just a peek, he had thought, just a gentle touch.

He had almost fooled himself. The khaydarin energy was so responsive, leaping out at his touch, rippling and twisting all too willingly. There was some smoothness to the process at first, a shred of regularity, but it quickly spun out of control. Sparks crackled around him, flashes of bright blue illuminated the main hall. Darkness again, for the span of a heartbeat or two. Then it lit anew, chains of coruscant sparks forming arcs of electricity that danced across the room. Darkness again, deeper this time. Light again, webs of bright blue flaring under the ceiling, a fabric of crystals tethered by his mind coming alive as lightning spread in arcing waves from one to the next. Xel'naga artifacts recoiled from unseen impacts and ephemeral voids flickered in and out of existence, churning and churning, lit by interconnected spears of blue. The storm extended beyond the castle, and for a few short moments the countryside was ablaze with energy, a dance of energy orchestrated by the paragon of serenity in its midst, a great—

The doors swung open with a bang. A roar echoed through the room, above the crackling cacophony, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

sOs' head snapped up, eyes wide, and the spell was broken—all too abruptly. The holy stones flashed and exploded, spraying the floor with shattered glass. Stray bolts of lightning singed through the paintings, screaming arcs of energy ripping through the air. The figure in the doorway yelped and ducked, dove out of the way to watch the zergling that had stood behind him explode into a mist of meaty, fizzing red. Silence fell, speckled only by the dripping of fried remains against the floor.

"Huh," Rogue didn't appear fazed by his brush with death as it was somehow familiar to him. His exterior changed when he remembered why he was there in the first place. "Hey wait, you promised you'd let me watch next time!" Rogue looked frustrated, but seemed by no means surprised.

sOs got to his feet, swaying slightly, appraising the new arrival. The young man looked barely awake, eyes still somewhat squinting as they darted from one relic to the next. "Sorry. You should have knocked. Containing all this—" he waved, "at a moment's notice isn't easy."

"Who cares about that! I wanted to see it happening. You never let me watch."

"This isn't a game for you to enjoy. Besides, you wouldn't understand. This isn't science."

Rogue sighed and gave an expansive shrug. "What do you mean? It looked like a fun experiment to me."

"I was just meditating."

"You were, uh... in the middle of a storm. And you really won't learn much more if you only study yourself."

sOs nodded slowly and got up, then strode towards Rogue with calm, precisely measured steps. "The crackling of energy, its speed, its unpredictability, its volatility, I find it somehow soothing. I like being in the midst of it. It listens to me." He snapped his fingers, and a little burst of blue shot from his hand.

"Okay, sure you do. But I still wanted to watch. Oh, by the way Maru asked me to tell you. He says you need to practice and get ready. We leave in a few days and you've been in here for like a week." Rogue grabbed an amulet from a nearby table, tossed it into the air to catch it on a little finger, "Ohh, I like this. Can I have it?"

The Protoss' hand shot out and snatched the amulet. "None of you understand my process," he snapped. He forced the amulet down a breast pocket with a sour expression, turning away.

Rogue gave an expansive shrug and knew that it was hopeless. He turned on his heel and headed for the door. "Sheesh. Maru's not gonna be happy about this. Wanna tell him yourself? He says exciting things are happening." Rogue waved away a puff of smoke that had lilted in front of him, "You need some fresh air. Or a bath. You're bumming me out."

sOs stayed behind, running a finger absentmindedly along the edge of the amulet. In spite of his very best attempts, his mind was crowded. Things are happening? What did that mean, exactly? Come to think of it, perhaps he should have asked. And he had to acknowledge that Rogue was, at least, partially correct. He had been distraught recently, his fingers longing to touch a scepter that was no longer there. He shivered, remembering the complete lack of direction that had haunted him just mere months ago. He never wanted to feel so purposeless again. He had sworn never to be so helpless.

It was settled, then. He had business to attend. He had spent weeks confined in the faculties of his skull, contemplating cause-and effect, dreaming up strategies and creating fictional worlds. The clarity that he sought, he had realized, may be found outside the apparitional walls he had constructed.

The great outdoors, how exciting. Perhaps after this I should pay Rogue and Maru a visit and help them with their own work. But look at the time!

The sun blazed above the vast countryside, and the wind danced through flowers and leaves of grass, whispering in the treetops. Out here, sOs found a different kind of peace. The seclusion of his chapel was nice, even homely, but the wind against his face was a different kind of pleasure.

He sensed a Terran nearby, leaning against a tree with a portable simulator unit placed beside him. Quietly, and with great patience, sOs sat down to watch. The rookie's training proceeded quickly, almost too quickly, in a predictable, robotic fashion. Identical scenarios played out, and the responses were equally identical. Fifty times the Terran tried, fifty times his strategy was the same.

Meticulous, but misguided, let me see what you're really made of.

sOs smiled impishly. He had designed the simulator, after all. Cute, but have you prepared for rushes?
Suddenly the recruit was beset by alerts, notifying him that he was about to come under attack. "What?" sOs heard the rookie mutter from where he sat, "I don't remember programming this..."

The assault took only seconds, warp blades tearing the unprepared beginner apart. The simulation was terminated nearly instantly. sOs grinned and allowed the greenhorn a few moments to regain his composure, a few more to fiddle with the simulator unit trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Let's see if you're the sort that learns.

The Terran put up a better fight the second time around, better by far, but still insufficient. A stream of curses, a kicked water bottle, a terminated simulation. A foregone conclusion, perhaps, but sOs saw potential.

How defensive can you be?

This time, sOs merely postured, fainting aggression but never committing. He filled the rookie's mind with worries, with unwatched angles and threats of impending attacks, following through with none. Seconds turned to grueling minutes, each one turning the Terran a little more toward paranoia. It took the frightened loser a good ten minutes to gather courage, ten long minutes that were cut very short by a burst of thermal energy. The rookie terminated his simulation for a third time and kicked the virtual reality unit. He yelped in pain, staggering back while clutching a wounded foot, tripping and rolling down the hill.

Cackling loudly and unable to stop himself, sOs was overcome by a feeling that had eluded him for very long. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt excited, as if he had been doing something profoundly right, something to set his mind at ease. Something that put him back where he belonged.

"Perhaps", he gasped between bouts of laughter, "that kid wasn't so off-base after all."

Minutes flew by, turning into hours as day soon gave way to twilight, and sOs was still there under the tree. His consciousness drifted across the vast plains, seeking more and more unwitting test subjects. He meticulously studied each, first from the outside—their basic gestures, their rudimentary tactics, the way they went about their training, the way they dealt with victory and defeat. Then he went inward, weaving through the flow of their minds, observing habits, discerning strategies, tendencies.

In their worried, unorganized practice, sOs found a glaring contrast between himself and them. There seemed to be no order to their chaos, no mind to the madness. They fought and fought and fought, tried and tried as they did to force their strength upon simulated opponents, completely absent finesse. Completely absent...

These people aren't like me, are they?

He remembered Rogue saying something about it. Maru had echoed the sentiment, at some point. They weren't like the others, nowhere near so simple-minded. Out here, with the evening chill against his face and the wind sizzling through the trees, it seemed they had been spot on. How could he have forgotten? Why had he forgotten?

He had to, he decided, return to the temple. Now. There were things to do, schemes to design and test, plans to pen and practice, ideas to... Well, things to do, put plainly. Many things, yes. He turned to the last remaining rookie on the field, a Zerg flanked by two feeble-looking zerglings. Caught up in a simulation measuring macro-perspective capabilities, the cornerstone in long-term warfare, it was almost too easy to disrupt him. Subtly first, the mere threat of an impending attack. The Zerg reeled at the unseen threat, overreacting, ordering his pets out to attack a foe they could not see. sOs felt himself smile in the dark.

I've got you now.

And he did. It took no more than a push, a light shove, to put the Zerg on a back foot. Psionic energies crackled, ripping through the night air. Warp blades sang through the air, searing slashes that cut zerglings in half. Defenseless, the Zerg couldn't take it anymore—

Serves you right for coming into our territory—

—and the rookie let slip a scream of purest terror. It took no genius to see that the rookie had finally understood who it was he had come face to face with. The half-processed simulation was hastily terminated as the Zerg scrambled, staggering away and down the slope. It was a nostalgic thing, that scream, that frightened sprint, nostalgic—very nostalgic, indeed. He remembered...

His greatest triumph, defeating JaeDong years ago, becoming king, lifting the scepter. A singular achievement, that, one he had never been able to match. It wasn't even the achievement, really—it was the process. His process. The unadultered joy of discovery, of peeling back every layer of his foe, of using what he found against them. Somehow, after Life's ascent, he had lost it. Forgotten how it felt. He hadn't been himself, he realized. He watched the Zerg sway and stumble his way across the plain as if his pants were on fire, never turning once to see the grinning face of his better. sOs hadn't been himself, he realized.

But I am now.

He opened his eyes, back in the castle. Silence, but not complete. Darkness, but not total. The door swung open with a loud clang of wood against stone, and a blast of energy raced towards it. sOs shot up, turned towards the twirling mass of psionic energy, stopped it with a flick of his wrist then beckoned it back to his hand, absorbing it.

Maru stood in the doorway with a bored expression. sOs surprised him with a bone-cracking, giggling hug, leaping from the side of his bed to wrap his hands around the little Terran.

"Ugh," Maru wiggled out of his embrace, grunting, "what's this for?"

"For being absent minded for too long." He let Maru go, grinning, then continued, "How about we go and play a bit of tag the ling, like we used to?"

The so-called Little Psycho looked ecstatic. "You're on! You'll want to hear the news, though. Word is that—" Screaming interrupted him.

"Oh ignore that, they always make so much noise. You were saying?"

"The other clans are mobilizing. The scepter's location must be known because Life is on the move."

sOs cocked an eyebrow. That little brat. Not for a second time. Slowly, a smile grew on his face. It hadn't taken long, but it had certainly taken long enough. "Now would be a perfect time to get revenge on that little creep for what he did."

Maru looked pained. It was easy to forget, sOs remembered, that the little Terran had suffered just as he had. The chance at greatness, snatched away in the final moment.

"Yes, but word is they've even woken Zest."

sOs raised his hand before his face, rolling the amulet between his fingers, feeling strangely at ease with the revelation. "Oh," he said, "don't worry about that." He snapped his fingers, and a spark of bright energy crackled above them. "I've got a few new tricks in store for them. And they never see me coming."

"No," Maru agreed, looking somewhat put at ease by his elder's apparent confidence. "Those fools."