Write stories where we pretend to be a creature from StarCraft. Then distribute them to starcraft forums where we have our banner at the bottom. Set up some advertisement and watch the profits pour in.
Writhing. Seething. Turning. Churning. The muted colours imprisoning you in a dim sleep. The light brings the shrieking, the grinding, the stretching. As the light fades you hear the breathing, the weeping, the shaking. The colours grow vibrant as the days pass. You feel your bonds weakening.
As the dark is fought back by the light you feel uneasy. Blooooiiiisrp. You are suddenly cold, tossed from your slumber. You can't see anything, the light is burning your whole body. The shrieking, now it is vivid, now you feel the pain of it's transgressors. Reality floods your mind like a bucket being pushed into a swimming pool. As you lay pathetically in your natal fluids you hear a voice. "bbkwwrrrsss kaahhh", it is not a question to obey, you make your way to a strange blue light. As you approach you hear the sounds of the past, the grinding and stretching, more vivid than before. As you survey the toil of your brothers a sense of urgency overcomes you. We require more minerals.
As you work the mine you begin to see the way of things. You see the cocoons boiling like fried eggs under the watchful eye of the queen. You see the warriors emerge like you once did, scared and alone, only to find comfort and camaraderie in the swarm. You also see the returning warriors. Scared, but this time with a knowing look in their eyes. Alone, but this time among their brothers. The grimness of your reality grips you as you expertly gnaw off a piece of blue mineral.
Once again the light continues it's crusade against the dark as you wake up to a face full of minerals. The brood is uneasy, you can feel the tension among your brothers. Even the queen is nervous, accidentally plunging a dart into an overlord. Letting out a sustained hiss to signal his discomfort, he slowly floats away. The shrieking, it is coming closer. This time it brings new sounds, ones you have never heard. Immense crashes followed by synchronized high pitched pops and hisses, these were the sounds of machines. As thunderous claps of artillery move closer the shrieking grows weaker and weaker. Suddenly, the same unequivocal voice that you heard so long ago is speaking to you again. "Greeeeeeeetatatata!", you unquestioningly run, along with your brothers, towards the hive. The machines are now upon you, eviscerating your brethren with a sterile efficiency that matches their polished finish. You begin to shake uncontrollably, unable to process the horror of your surroundings. You are not sure if you are still running but everything is still moving. You hear that same mechanical hiss and feel your body become abruptly cold. You feel yourself fall to the ground and everything turns white.
You wake up in a marsh of creep, machinery and bones. Your vision slowly focusing as your head screams in agony. There is smoke rising from the hive, you don't see anything you recognize. hissss-pop! You turn around to see one of the machines limping, obviously injured. Your mind flashes to faces of the returning warriors, scared, helpless and alone. You know what you have to do. As you charge towards the monstrosity with every ounce of energy, all you think is.......I Believe
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