Abathur had never before considered his own death. Throughout all the countless years of his existence, for all that he spent his life making weapons designed to kill others, to annihilate them in the most varied ways possible, his own mortality had never so much as crossed his mind. After all, if he died, surely the Swarm would have fallen as well, and that was simply unthinkable. Billions of constantly adapting, constantly evolving creatures, beings that could breed armadas in days, going extinct? It was unimaginable.
Of course, the unimaginable only stayed that way until it became all too real. While the Swarm was not extinct, and the weapons he created lived and fought on, Abathur, Evolution Master and oldest member of the Zerg swarm, was almost certainly going to die.
He wasn't going to die in an accident, or some experiment gone wrong, though he'd been through his fair share of close calls. Nor was it some grand, important battle, although the Terrans had certainly brought a sizeable fleet. No, Abathur was going to die in a simple ambush while collecting essence. He'd brought a leviathan to a system called Algol, in the belief that there was essence he could use to augment the ultralisk strain. Instead of a simple gathering mission, he had warped into a full Terran armada, armed to the teeth and ready for combat. Whether they were waiting for him, or just happened to be in the area, Abathur would likely never know.
(Transition)
Many more were going to die. Garrick Ollivander knew this as well as anyone. You-Know-Who was claiming more and more ground, more and more lives. Hope grew more distant with each passing day. And so, it was only in desperation that they turned to this ritual. He didn't know where Adeviar had found it, but frankly, he didn't want to. He only wanted to end this nightmare.
All he knew about the ritual was its purpose. With luck, it would reach across time and space to summon a powerful being, something that could defeat You-Know-Who. He didn't know if the summoned being would be willing to help them, or if the ritual would even work at all. And if it was successful, what would the consequences be? Ollivander shook himself. The only alternative was to let He-Who-Must-Be-Named reign supreme, and anything, anything, was better than that.
The other participants, Adeviar Byhumorn, Defous Melhorn, Iwyn Izemorith, Jedelis Iwpyx, Faris and Vivira Jaren were courageous men and women, the lot of them. All of them united by a common goal, and no small amount of desperation. He could only hope that when they were done, this long nightmare would finally be over.
(Transition)
With every passing moment, Abathur could feel the barrier between him and the terrans weapons grow thinner. He searched in vain for something, anything he could use to preserve his life, his essence. A larva to manipulate, a queen or an overlord who could host a copy of his mind. He knew it was possible, the Overmind had done it many times. How had it taken their minds, regrown their bodies? Abathur struggled to recall the process, to recreate it before his time ran out. But the terrans were overwhelming the zerg fliers. He couldn't replenish his forces faster than they were being destroyed. Bit by bit, the terrans claimed ground despite his best efforts to stop them. How ironic it was that terrans would kill him. A race so biologically pathetic would, in the end, destroy the Master of Evolution.
(Transition)
"Is everyone ready?" Ollivander asked. Six grim nods answered him. Of course they were ready. Everyone here had spent weeks helping set this up, whether by collecting ingredients or drawing the runes and diagrams, all of which had to be precisely correct. Not a single person in the circle was unprepared.
So Ollivander pressed his wand to the center of the runic circle, flooding it with power. He was followed by Vivira to his left, then Iwyn to her left, then Jedelis, all the way around the circle. As the glyphs glowed with magic, and the items placed on the outer edges of the circle began to dissolve, Ollivander could only hope they weren't making a horrible mistake.
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Catalyst
FanfictionWhen Abathur, Evolution Master of the Swarm, is cornered by Terran forces, he believes he is about to die. Across the galaxy, a last ditch summoning ritual tries to find something that could fight Voldemort. Neither of these events go as expected. N...