When the Golden Armada reached Shakuras, well, they weren’t too pleased.

The bridge was silent. The majority of the Daelaam high command was present as they witnessed the horrifying scene of destruction. Artanis. Selendis. Zeratul. Dozens of high templars remained silent.

As soon as the Golden Armada exited stasis they realized something was wrong. Dozens of requests for help meant the Daelaam didn’t even have the time to mourn the loss of their brothers before they warped back to Shakuras in a hurry.

They were too late.

The Nerazim fleet was completely gone. Apart from the scraps floating in space and the communications the Nerazim sent there was no sign that the Nerazim fleet ever existed. All eighty or so ships obliterated.

“Hierarch.” Through comm, the high templar Artanis sent to Shakuras reported back. He was sent to see if there was any survivors. “The intruders destroyed everything on the ground. I can’t find any survivors. Some of our people might have escaped through the warp gate, but...” He trailed off.

The Dominion efficiency was fully utilized during the massacre. Warp gates that could evacuate the protoss were being targeted down immediately. Sources of power fields, things like pylons and warp prisms, were next. When the protoss were trapped with no chance of escape, the Dominion ships fired on the ground, optimizing their firepower on where their Theia ravens detected massive life forms.

There were some ground to orbit defenses on the ground. They let off a few volleys and bought the civilians some time to watch as the defenses were consumed by flames.

“How can this happen? Who could’ve committed such atrocity?” Selendis said with disbelief. Who would want the Dealaam down, and who was able to rally a fleet powerful enough to destroy an entire fleet in less than half an hour and destroy everything on a planet? The Nerazim fleet, at its dying breath, had sent over some footage. The enemy was a fleet composed of tal’darim, terran Dominion, and the purifiers.

Artanis looked down on the planet and didn’t respond. The high templars just thought he was consumed by grief, but Zeratul saw something different.

He saw a flicker of red on Artanis’ nerve cord.

“I see your grief. I see your hatred. You strive to do what is right, and yet you can’t even protect your people. Join me, and I will end this infinite cycle of strife and bring an end to this eternal suffering. I will free you, all of you, from the suffering of this life.”

A dark voice echoed through Artanis’ mind.

In the original history Amon chose to corrupt the Golden Armada when they were on Aiur for one specific reason. The majority of the Nerazim was left on Shakuras during the attack, which meant most of the Golden Armada could be corrupted. Once Amon hit there would be few Nerazim to save the corrupted Khalai.

Even so the corruption process took quite a while. Some Khalai resisted while others fell. In the end all the Khalai with their nerve cords intact were controlled, but it was a fact that the faith and the inner strength of the Khalai made it much more difficult for them to be taken over.

This was also why Amon couldn’t really take over the Khalai on Shakuras. He could activate the process, but corruption would take a while, and the Nerazim fleet might be able to do something to pause or even reverse the corruption. If it really came to that the Nerazim could easily cut off the nerve cords of the Khalai while the Khalai themselves resisted and slowed down the process. Chances were Amon would lose all his control of the Golden Armada. It was just a possibility, but Amon wasn’t willing to risk it.

But now that Jean wiped out the Nerazim, she had actually helped Amon. Not on purpose, but the result was the same. Jean’s destruction of the Nerazim made the Khalai vulnerable to Amon.

“What the…” Artanis was taken by surprise. He subconsciously resisted, but an endless wave of negative sensations washed over his body from the back of his head. He groaned and collapsed.

“Artanis!” Zeratul’s eyes widened in fear and concern as he sort of realized what had happened. The red energy on the nerve cord was void energy, which was utilized by Amon. His worst fear was happening. Jean’s words came true, and Amon is controlling the Golden Armada. Turning around to the rest of the high templars, he ordered decisively. “Stay back!” If Artanis could be controlled then so could every other member of the Golden Armada.

But he was too late. Crimson void energies appeared on the nerve cords of every Khalai in the bridge. All of them, from Selendis to a ship piloting zealot, groaned as their minds were swept over by Amon’s will.

“No…” The dark templar whispered. His gaze turned to Artanis. His mind turned quickly. Amon had already made his move and his domination would be imminent, but If he could free Artanis then the Daelaam leader might somehow free his people from Amon's grip. As for how to free Artanis, well, the void energy on the nerve cords gave a quite obvious hint. Warp blade in hand, he moved toward Artanis as quickly as possible. The hierarch must not fall.

Zeratul moved quickly, even blinking to make the process half a second quicker. Artanis was just before him. Give him one more second and…

At the last moment, just before the green warp blade reached his nerve cord, Artanis stood up and initiated his weapon, blocking Zeratul’s warp blade. The psi blade was no longer of the usual blue color but was instead red with void energy. Zeratul immediately knew the hierarch before him was no longer the leader he knew.

“Aiur. Shakuras. Our people had perished by the millions…” Artanis said slowly. His words echoed through the bridge, revealing complete domination of the dark one. “This world is corrupted, but Amon will end it. And I...shall be his blade.”

This was another part where Jean helped Amon. Those mentally strong could resist the corruption longer than the weak. In the original history Artanis was able to resist longer because of his inner belief. On Aiur, Artanis was determined to take back his homeland. This made him able to hold on a bit longer. Thus the struggle when Zeratul found Artanis.

But, here and now, Artanis had just lost his friend and trusted assistant, Urun. He had lost Shakuras and, as far as he knew, every Nerazim on the planet. He had lost Vorazun. He had lost almost everything. This was even worse than the fall of Aiur. When Aiur fell there were some survivors. A small amount compared to the original protoss population, but still plenty. Now the only ones still alive were the warriors a part of the Golden Armada. Countless civilians, engineers, and other non combatants had perished. The Daelaam number had become reduced to nearly one third of its former count. At possibly the lowest point in his life, Artanis was made vulnerable to the cynical ideology of Amon.

Such was the same for the entire Golden Armada. The protoss lost their home and most of their people, again.

At this point letting the world burn might not be a bad idea.

Under Zeratul’s shocked eyes, Artanis pushed the dark templar out with a surge of void energy. Zeratul groaned as he smashed into the wall.

Zeratul stood up and glanced around the bridge. All the other Khalai were taken over as well. If he wanted to make something happen, he would need to do it now.

“My life for Aiur.” The dark templar disappeared into a wave of smoke. Artanis waited for a few seconds for Zeratul to appear from the blink, but he didn’t see anyone.

Looking down, Artanis grinned wickedly. “Blink and cloak. Brilliant, but do you think I can be fooled by your trickery?” He looked around the bridge. “Now, if I were you, I would be somewhere my enemy ignores. Somewhere close to the target. Somewhere…” Artanis looked up and held his fist tight. A storm of void energy converged on the ceiling of the bridge and locked an invisible figure in place. “Above.”

Zeratul resisted. He knew Artanis/Amon was powerful, but he had no idea a corrupted Artanis was this strong. His skills in cloaking was the top in the Nerazim, but Amon just pulled him out into the open with absolute ease. He tried to blink. He tried void armor. He even tried shadow strike. And yet none of them worked. Artanis held Zeratul there for a few seconds and watched as he struggled. The corruption and the connection with the void greatly enhanced Artanis’ psi strength.

After trying everything he had got, Zeratul gave up. “You will never win, Amon.” He said provokingly, knowing he likely wouldn’t get out of this place alive. “Jean is smart and determined and prepared. One day she will be your end.”

Artanis smirked as if he heard something funny. “Jean Turner? She thinks she is in control,”

Without any warning, Artanis abruptly pulled Zeratul toward him. Zeratul’s eyes widened and he subconsciously resisted, but he was too weak. The red blade went through the dark templar’s chest.

Watching Zeratul’s body disappear, Artanis turned off his blade and finished his sentence.

“She’s not.”