"Let the alien invaders be the ones to fall! Let them melt into ash beneath the fury of mankind! We will sacrifice! We may fail! But in the end... victory shall belong to humanity! Humanity! Long live!"
Kenthelion stood tall at the podium, as if a mighty mustache had grown upon his face in the spirit of legendary leaders. Below him stood the newly freed human slaves and his loyal soldiers. Overhead, broadcasting drones relayed his speech to every city under the banner of the Imperium Caelestis.
Now... the wrath of the people has reached its peak.
The Star Sea Federation, once bold enough to declare war on them, has failed.
But now, a leader has risen-willing to guide humanity, to lead them into vengeance against the alien scourge!
Humanity has never feared the alien! Humanity will rise again!
Victory after victory during this grand expedition has reignited their national pride.
They are willing to sacrifice everything for the rise of mankind-even their own lives.
They await this war of retribution.
Why is humanity called weak?
Just because they were once defeated by the aliens of the Star Sea Federation?
Now, all that hatred and injustice, built up over decades, will be forged into burning bullets-ready to strike them down!
They are prepared to fight to the death. Blood for blood.
Every humiliation suffered by noble humanity... will be avenged.
Women have joined the logistics corps.
Children are enrolling in the academies.
And men... will become soldiers of the Planetary Defense Force (PDF), trained and armed for total war.
Kenthelion's words have truly ignited their spirit.
While other races may have one nation and one army,
Humanity now has one will, one civilization, and billions of soldiers.
The battle cells within human bloodlines have been fully awakened.
The crowned golden eagle-symbol of the Human Empire-has spread its wings, ready to fly and carry the banner of vengeance.
This Human Empire is no longer merely a kingdom...
It is a war machine awakened-set to annihilate every enemy in its path.
___
"Humanity, cease your military operations immediately. If not, our Sacred Meat Empire will intervene in this war!"
A greasy, fat white pig with tusks appeared on Kenthelion's screen.
"We will impose economic sanctions on you! And we will also hire mercenaries and interstellar pirates to strike your imperial fleets!"
As the arrogant pig continued rambling on-screen, Kenthelion felt a growing disgust.
Forces that don't even know each other… trying to talk diplomacy? Sanctions? Do they think this is 20th-century Earth?
Kenthelion's expeditionary fleets had already rampaged across much of the galaxy. These aliens were clearly not the brightest.
Finally, when the pig was done talking, Kenthelion responded coldly:
Kenthelion: "What civilization are you from?"
Fat White Pig: "The Sacred Meat Empire! The wealthiest civilization in all of the outer star sectors!"
Kenthelion had had enough. He couldn't stand the sight of the literal fat white pig anymore.
Kenthelion: "Screw you."
A short, instinctive response—sharp as a blade.
He immediately cut off the transmission.
"How dare they?! How dare humanity treat us this way?!"
The alien was seething. No human had ever disrespected them like that.
"Humanity doesn't take us seriously! We will be the main attackers! Crush the last remnants of their civilization!"
An alien with a horse-like head shouted from another screen.
"Shut up! Weren't you just planning to steal some oil and water for yourself first?"
A captain from a mercenary unit exposed the horse-head alien's true intentions.
"Screw you! I call that… a mandatory donation!"
The horse-head snapped, slamming his helmet down.
As everyone argued—
Mok'Zar suddenly interrupted.
"Everyone, if you don't rescue me soon, I'll be captured by the humans."
His words froze the entire room.
Kenthelion's newly formed Fifth and Sixth Fleets were already en route to that sector.
If they didn't act fast… Mok'Zar would be gone.
"Don't panic. The planet Chubronia, where you're currently located, is protected by a group of natural meteorites. As long as you don't go looking for trouble, you'll be fine."
Mok'Zar let out a sigh of relief after hearing everyone's reassurance.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Suddenly, the screen showing Mok'Zar was engulfed in flames. Communication was forcibly cut off.
"What happened? What's the situation?!"
Before anyone could react, Mok'Zar's screen turned black.
A few minutes later, a large face appeared on the screen, with a cigar in his mouth—Tychus Findlay.
"General, how do we use this thing?"
Several soldiers in red and blue armor (CMC armor) were fiddling with communication equipment. Behind them stood an older general with a white mustache, wearing white CMC armor—General Wallfield—and beside him, a middle-aged man in a Dominion Admiral uniform—Alexei Stukov.
"Hey, human! What did you do to Mok'Zar?!" yelled the leader of the mercenary regiment at the four people on the screen.
The four of them turned to face the camera.
"Mok'Zar? You mean this one?"
Without hesitation, they grabbed a chunk of meat from the wall. Together, they squeezed it like a meatball, then threw it at the screen.
Splat.
Don't think that humans in the StarCraft universe like aliens. Sure, only the Protoss and Zerg are featured in the game, but the doctrine of human supremacy from Arcturus Mengsk reveals one thing: there are many other alien races not shown, and they are all despised.
A few minutes later, the screen went dark.
"Alright... I think we can confirm that the Bloodmaw Empire is no more. All that's left is the name. There probably aren't many Urg'nok left in the universe."