StarCraft Chronicles Episode 1: Aiur, the World That Shared the Light

This is a fan narrative newly written based on the events of the original work. The characters' emotions, dialogues, and scene atmospheres have been reconstructed, and it includes key endings.

The Infinite Cycle and the Silent Observers

In the deep, dark abyss of the cosmos, countless stars were born and died over eons, creating a vast flow of life. Silently watching over this majestic and quiet cosmic pulse were ancient cosmic beings who called themselves the great creators, the Xel'naga. These ancient observers explored the origins of life and safeguarded the order of the universe.

They eagerly waited for two ultimate evolutions—purity of form and purity of essence—to naturally blossom somewhere in the universe. While observing countless cradles of stars, they adhered to a strict and resolute rule never to directly intervene in the lives of their creations. This was because they firmly believed that the sprout of life possessed true value only when it grew on its own.

The cosmic providence of the Infinite Cycle was a sublime process that could only be fully completed through vast stretches of time and natural selection. Thus, the massive worldships of the Xel'naga quietly lingered on the fringes of star systems, silently waiting for the seeds of life to germinate on their own and break through their hard shells. Their patience was as deep and endless as the age of the universe itself.

The fusion of these two purities—form and essence—to eventually reborn as a new Xel'naga was their sole purpose and the absolute order of the universe. Even a long wait of hundreds of millions of years was but a fleeting moment to them, and their sublime observation continuing in silence seemed as peaceful and quiet as if it would last forever, as long as the universe existed.

However, not all life in the universe flowed as smoothly and beautifully as they anticipated. Some species were consumed by their own uncontrollable violence and walked the path of extinction, while others failed to overcome the harsh environmental changes of their planets, extinguishing their sparks of life and vanishing without a trace into the cold dust of space.

Even in the face of such numerous failures and tragic deaths, the Xel'naga never grieved or raged; they merely recorded their observations in silence. A firm and cold belief ruled their intellect: that the extinction of individual lives was a natural part of the grand cycle, serving as essential nourishment to ultimately drive a superior evolution.

They only yearned for species possessing the two purities to realize the truths of the universe on their own and seek them out. This was not the arrogant authority of creators wishing to reign over their creations, but an extremely sublime and painfully lonely process of searching for new successors to carry on the fading vitality of the universe.

At the edge of the cold void where even starlight could not fully reach, the Xel'naga fleet entered a long hibernation once more, waiting for new waves of life. Cosmic time flowed slowly without any disturbance, and the Infinite Cycle maintained its quiet and grand posture, as if it would continue forever, undisturbed by anyone.

Amon's Rebellion and Destructive Intervention

However, not all Xel'naga willingly agreed with this philosophy of endless waiting and non-intervention. A powerful Xel'naga named Amon, watching the tragic state of the universe where countless lives perished without any meaning, began to harbor deep skepticism and unbearable disgust. Within him, a spirit of rebellion against cosmic providence began to sprout.

In Amon's eyes, the Infinite Cycle was by no means a sublime or beautiful providence. It was merely a cruel shackle that forced endless suffering and despair upon weak creatures while maintaining irresponsible bystanderism. He truly loathed this imperfect and inefficient universe, and he could no longer stand by and watch the tragedies unfolding under the guise of natural providence.

Left to their own devices under the pretext of natural evolution, the creations brutally tore into and destroyed one another, meaninglessly wasting the precious energy of the universe. Amon solidified his dogmatic belief, firmly convinced that only when the Xel'naga directly intervened to guide and control these foolish creatures could the universe finally achieve true perfection.

Evading the sharp eyes of his kin, he began to secretly and meticulously gather followers who shared his vision. In Amon's voice, a deceptive promise of salvation to end all suffering in the universe was heavily mixed and echoed with an arrogant and horrific desire for control to mold all living things according to his own will.

Fascinated by Amon's radical claim to break the shackles of the cycle at once and establish a new order, some Xel'naga secretly gathered by his side. Resolutely refusing to remain helpless bystanders any longer, they made a terrifying resolve to become creators and sole gods themselves, directly reorganizing all life in the universe.

Amon and his blind followers quietly broke away from the main Xel'naga host and turned their prows toward an unnamed frontier of the galaxy. They were searching for the perfect test subjects to realize their twisted ideals, and their greedy gaze stopped upon a certain green jungle planet that radiated an exceptionally resilient vitality even amidst the harsh cosmic environment.

That beautiful planet was a place that would later be called Aiur, and there, a primitive species with dazzling potential was fiercely thriving, enough to capture Amon's arrogant gaze at once. Amon vowed in the darkness to personally evolve these wild creatures with his own hands, turning them into the most perfect creations in the universe.

It was a horrific moment when the strictest taboo upheld by the Xel'naga for hundreds of millions of years was shattered to pieces. As Amon's massive vessels descended through the thick clouds of Aiur, a dark and destructive intervention directly defying the natural providence of the universe finally took its first irreversible step toward ruin.

The Firstborn of Aiur, the Protoss

Beneath the dense canopy of the jungle planet Aiur, which overflowed with an unimaginable abundance of life, agile and strong creatures hunted in packs in a breathtaking display. They exhibited a physical adaptability close to perfection, possessing an independent and explosive vitality that refused to yield to any harsh environment.

Amon was deeply impressed by this primitive species' overwhelming physical strength, fluid agility, and above all, the faint but distinct psionic network latent deep within them. He was convinced that these wild hunters were the one and only existence possessing the purity of form that the Xel'naga had searched for over so many ages.

Amon and his followers subtly packaged themselves as benevolent gods, appearing before this primitive species amidst a brilliant light. Witnessing the massive vessels descending to cover the sky and the wondrous power they radiated, the species was seized by uncontrollable fear and awe, prostrating themselves to worship the new visitors.

Amon arbitrarily named these wondrous creatures the Protoss, meaning the Firstborn, and stepped on the accelerator of their evolution in earnest. Gifted with the overwhelming technology and profound knowledge of the Xel'naga, the Protoss broke free from the shackles of primitive hunters, establishing a highly advanced and brilliant civilization across Aiur at an unbelievable pace.

Massive stone temples and towering spires rose like mushrooms after rain amidst the deep greenery of the jungle, and the Protoss absorbed the teachings of the Xel'naga like a sponge, making rapid leaps forward both intellectually and physically. Their latent psionic abilities also underwent explosive growth under Amon's artificial stimulation.

The Protoss, who had been scattered and divided into tribes, gathered one by one under the absolute common focal point of the Xel'naga, forming a massive community and reigning as the true rulers of Aiur. Amon fell into a deep, arrogant, and blind satisfaction, believing his dogmatic intervention was achieving perfect success.

However, behind the dazzling progress of the Protoss, a fatal side effect that Amon had failed to calculate was growing like a poisonous mushroom. As their intellect highly developed and their civilization flourished, the individual egos and pride of the Protoss also expanded so vastly and sharply that Amon could no longer control them.

They gradually fell into a dangerous arrogance, believing they could one day surpass even the Xel'naga who created them, and began to demean and ostracize one another to prove the superiority of their respective tribes. Paradoxically, the purity of form brought about the maximization of individual egos, deeply conceiving the seeds of a horrific division within them.

The Departure of the Creators and Sprouting Distrust

As the egos of the Protoss expanded uncontrollably, the primitive and pure psionic network that had bound them together gradually frayed and severed. Once the bond of empathy that had allowed them to fully share the emotions and thoughts of others decayed, only fierce distrust and sharp suspicion toward other tribes rose like a toxic mist in its empty place.

The tribes became extremely wary of one another, building high and sturdy walls around their territories, interpreting the teachings of the Xel'naga to suit their own selfish tastes, and branding each other as heretics. In the lush jungles of Aiur, instead of the peaceful cries of beasts, only sharp accusations and hatred-filled shouts among the Protoss echoed ominously.

Amon and his Xel'naga faction felt deep sorrow and disappointment as they watched the creations they had guided bare their cruel teeth at one another and fracture. The Protoss began to suspect that their creators were trying to hinder and control their evolution, and eventually, their arrogance escalated into direct hostility toward their creators.

Ultimately, the exploded Protoss tribes unleashed merciless attacks on the Xel'naga vessels floating in the sky, resulting in a tragedy where numerous Xel'naga lost their lives at the hands of their creations. Deeply shocked, the Xel'naga ignited their engines in unison to prevent further bloodshed and departed Aiur, vanishing into the cold cosmos in an instant without any farewell.

Looking up at the sky and witnessing the merciless departure of the Xel'naga with their own eyes, the Protoss were swept by immense shock and inescapable despair. The misery of being abandoned by their gods soon turned into a fierce and destructive rage, and the arrows of that blind fury began to pour mercilessly not at the Xel'naga, but at each other.

Each tribe fiercely blamed the others, claiming that the terrible reason the Xel'naga had left was solely due to the impiety and foolishness of other tribes. Minor arguments soon led to bloody armed conflicts, and the powerful, wondrous technologies left behind by the Xel'naga instantly transformed into horrific weapons of slaughter to tear the flesh of their own kin.

Under the red sun of Aiur, the blue blood of brothers was splattered everywhere, and the horrific screams of death throes violently shook the earth. Having completely lost their reason, the Protoss plunged deep into an uncontrollable vortex of frenzy and slaughter, mercilessly driving psionic blades into each other's hearts.

The remnants of the great civilization left by the Xel'naga collapsed in vain, engulfed in crimson flames, and the noble intelligent beings who once praised the wonders of the universe degenerated into bloodthirsty, cruel savages. This was merely a despairing prelude announcing the arrival of the darkest and most horrific era in Protoss history.

The Bloody Tragedy of the Aeon of Strife

This devastating and horrific civil war, which came to be called the Aeon of Strife, drenched the green lands of Aiur with red blood for hundreds of generations. The Protoss made the complete annihilation of other tribes their sole purpose in life, and that blind hatred was persistently passed down through generations like a cursed inheritance.

The advanced knowledge and profound philosophy mercifully bestowed by the Xel'naga were forgotten without a trace in the bloody, brutal battlefields. The once-brilliantly shining great cities turned into wretched ashes, and the survivors merely hid like starving beasts in the collapsed ruins, repeating endless wars of slaughter.

From the sticky, dark shadows of the jungle, a warrior burst forth like a beast through an ambush and severed an enemy's neck in a single stroke. Hot blue blood splattered onto his cheek, but in his dull eyes, there was no guilt or sorrow for fratricide—only a mad, fierce intent to kill flashed.

The psionic link that had once warmly connected their souls as one was completely severed; now, they had absolutely no way of knowing what pain their dying kin felt right before their eyes. Becoming completely desensitized to the pain of others, the Protoss showed off their madness by torturing and butchering one another in even more brutal and sophisticated ways.

By night, the once-clear sky of Aiur was dyed red like hell by the smoke and fire of the burning jungles, and by day, the terrible stench emitted by rotting corpses heavily blanketed the atmosphere. The progress of civilization ground to a complete halt, and only the destructive power of lethal weapons continued to develop in a deformed and destructive manner.

Countless tribes vanished forever into history with miserable screams, and even the barely surviving tribes could not remember the very first reason why they had started this horrific war. Only the blind instinct of slaughter—that they must kill any other tribe they saw before them—dominated their minds.

Despair and death became as natural a part of daily life as the air of Aiur, and newborn young Protoss were driven onto the horrific battlefields holding weapons before they could even take their first steps. The Aeon of Strife, true to its name, became a hellish shackle that would never end, slowly tightening around the necks of the entire Protoss race.

The failed experiment of the Xel'naga thus seemed to lead itself into the abyss of ruin, vanishing as useless dust of the cosmos. Amidst endless hatred and slaughter directed at one another, the Protoss were plummeting toward the dark abyss of extinction, brutally trampling upon the great purity of form they once possessed.

Khas's Enlightenment and the Light of the Khala

Even as the madness of endless slaughter blanketed the planet, a solitary scholar named Savassan wandered alone through the ruined relics of the Xel'naga, searching for a way to end this meaningless war. He firmly believed that the key to salvation that would end this hell was hidden within the ancient wisdom his kin had long forgotten.

After a long quest and wandering, Savassan discovered a massive Khaydarin crystal emitting a mysterious blue light in a deep, dark underground cavern. Retaining the warm pulsations of a forgotten era, the crystal constantly radiated a quiet yet heavy and intense energy into the surrounding cold air.

The moment he carefully reached out and touched the smooth surface of the crystal, a massive, lightning-like shock struck Savassan's mind, and long-forgotten senses rushed in like a tidal wave. The psionic network, severed for so long, opened explosively through the amplified power of the crystal, expanding his closed mind into the cosmos.

He simultaneously felt the wondrous sense of unity that his ancestors had peacefully shared thousands of years ago, and the horrific pain and sorrow his kin had to endure while killing one another over hundreds of generations since. The devastating pain he should have felt when piercing another's chest ruthlessly struck his soul, causing him to shed tears.

Shedding hot tears, Savassan resolved to restore this great connection of empathy to his kin at all costs. Renaming himself Khas, meaning "He Who Brings Order," he cradled the glowing Khaydarin crystal in his arms and silently walked into the very center of the battlefield where the most fierce and brutal combat was taking place.

In front of the chieftains of two tribes who were raising sharp psionic blades toward each other's necks, Khas opened his entire mind and emotions through the Khaydarin crystal, transmitting a warm wave of empathy to them. Instantly, as if by agreement, all the warriors on the battlefield dropped their weapons and began to weep, assimilating with the pure resonance of the soul delivered by Khas.

They fully experienced the terrible fear and sense of loss residing deep within the enemies they had hated and cursed all their lives. Realizing with their entire bodies the painful truth that another's pain was indeed their own, the warriors could not bring themselves to pick up their weapons again, collapsing onto the blood-stained earth and wailing like beasts.

Khas named this wondrous and warm sharing of emotions the Khala, meaning "The Path of Ascension," and preached the teachings of harmony to his kin. The light of the Khala spread like a wildfire across a parched land, opening the tightly closed hearts of the Protoss, and finally brought a miraculous end to the horrific nightmare of the Aeon of Strife.

The Pain Toward Freedom, Severing the Nerve Cords

The teachings of the Khala brought miraculous peace and harmony across the scarred land of Aiur, and the Protoss once again united as a grand community, beginning to dazzlingly rebuild their ruined civilization. However, behind this brilliant light, a dark shadow resolutely refusing the fusion of the Khala quietly lurked.

Some Protoss regarded the network of the Khala, which transparently shared all emotions and thoughts, as a horrific mental shackle that obliterated an individual's unique ego. Although they painfully loathed the tragedies of the Aeon of Strife, they could not bring themselves to surrender their own private thoughts and free will to the collective.

While the majority of their kin were deeply immersed in the ecstasy of harmony provided by the Khala, these steadfast dissidents hid in the remote wastes and barren, dark caverns of Aiur, thoroughly concealing their existence. They feared being assimilated into the hive mind and having the existence of "self" erased more than death itself.

To completely sever the forced and overwhelming connection of the Khala, they had to make an extreme and horrific choice. Ruthlessly cutting off the nerve cords growing from the back of their heads with sharp blades entailed physical pain unimaginable to conceive, yet they willingly endured that terrible agony.

Whenever hot blue blood dripped from the place where their nerve cords were severed in chunks, they shuddered at the terrible sense of loneliness, as if they were left completely alone in the vast universe. Yet, because that painful solitude was the very proof of the intact ego they had preserved, they silently strengthened their resolve while looking at each other's horrific wounds.

While a new ruling class called the Conclave established strict order on Aiur, these hidden ones secretly grew their influence and formed their own distinct culture. They refused to blindly worship Xel'naga relics and sought to find a new source of power in the dark void of the cosmos.

Severing their connection to the Khala did not mean their ability to speak through their minds had vanished. However, the familiar flow of each other's emotions surging in without a single word was broken. They learned a new distance and etiquette, consciously selecting their thoughts to convey to one another and never recklessly intruding upon the silence of others. Amidst their training toward the Void and such mutual respect, a bond slowly grew within the darkness.

However, within the ocean of the Khala, where billions of Protoss were tightly connected as a single massive mind, their intentional absence gradually began to manifest as a distinct and ominous disparity. The Judicators of the Conclave noticed the cold holes of silence felt throughout the network and raised their sharp antennae of suspicion.

The Eternal Separation and Exile of Brothers

Finally, the Conclave fully grasped the existence of the horrific rebels who rejected the sacred light of the Khala and severed their own nerve cords. The Judicators were struck with horror, viewing the wild and independent waves of ego radiated by these rebels as a fatal plague that would shatter the barely achieved peace of Aiur once again.

Fearing that the barely achieved peace would be shattered if the existence of the Nerazim became known to the public, the Conclave issued a secret order to the young Executor Adun to execute all the heretics. However, Adun, possessing a noble soul, felt a deep aversion to shedding the blood of his own kin; defying the Conclave's command, he secretly hid the Nerazim and began to teach them how to wield the power of the Khala.

However, when the Nerazim unleashed uncontrollable psionic storms and were discovered by the Conclave, Adun drew upon both the light of the Khala and the power of the void simultaneously to sacrifice himself and aid the Nerazim's escape, preventing a full-scale war among their kin. After Adun dissipated into the twilight light, the Conclave decided to exile the surviving Nerazim from Aiur forever aboard ancient Xel'naga vessels to cover up this heroic sacrifice and the truth.

On a night when pitch-black darkness heavily descended, the armed Templar surrounded the Nerazim's hideout in layers and forcibly dragged them to the vessels. The Nerazim, with their nerve cords severed, resisted fiercely to protect their pride, but they had no choice but to swallow their tears of frustration in the face of overwhelming numerical inferiority and the Templar's merciless force.

Confined like beasts on the cold metal floors of the vessels, the Nerazim swallowed their suppressed anger and sorrow as they watched the heavy hatches shut tightly. They engraved this humiliating moment of being driven out of their beautiful home planet, treated like horrific criminals, as an indelible brand deep within their souls.

As the massive engines roared with an ear-splitting din and ignited, the ancient Xel'naga vessels laboriously escaped Aiur's gravity and slipped into the cold void of space. It was the eternal separation of brothers, and a tragic yet historic moment when the great race of the Protoss was completely torn into two paths.

Those left behind beneath the warm light of the Khala firmly believed they had attained a flawless and perfect peace, yet that peace stood upon the cruel price of driving their kin who had chosen a different path out into the cold and dark Void. The trajectory of the ships fading into the distance as they cleaved through the serene night sky of Aiur remained like an indelible, deep scar upon the history of the Protoss.

The Khalai, who became a massive whole by sharing the light, and the Nerazim, who won their painful freedom alone in the darkness. The brothers who once shared hot blood on the same red earth had now become strangers who could never understand each other, departing on their own lonely paths into the unfathomable abyss of the cosmos.

Verified Sources

Blizzard Official StarCraft Chronicle

StarCraft and Brood War Official Game Introduction

Official Story Direction and Reference Images of StarCraft: Remastered