Madrid’s pain was immediately washed away as he felt his consciousness slowly rise out of his body. A swirling vortex of blue, violet, and warm gold flashed before his awestruck eyes. His mind reeled, not in confusion, but in the realization that all his earthly troubles had washed away with his pain.

Reaching out with his consciousness, Madrid sensed Protoss spirits gathered around him. He became fleetingly aware of hundreds and then thousands of their minds, all scattered throughout the swirling ether that he beheld. Each of them emitted strength and nobility that beamed out of the vortex like white-hot rays of sunlight. As Madrid watched, the pure white beams began to coalesce into a single, shining band of inexplicable beauty and power. Madrid imagined the glowing band to be a great, fluid lifeline that spanned the entirety of the Protoss’s existence. The mere sight of it filled his spirit with a profound bliss.

“En Taro Adun, brave Terran: Unto the grace of Adun may your spirit soar,” Tassadar intoned reverently. He opened his eyes and looked down upon the still body of Andre Madrid. Though the Terran’s body was ravaged and broken, his face shone with peace and wonderment, and Tassadar knew the Terran could no longer feel the pain of his affliction. He remained kneeling for a few moments while thing wisps of smoke drifted up form the Terran’s blackened power suit. Regaining his composure, the mighty Protoss lifted Madrid’s body from the broken floor. Carrying the lifeless husk as if it were a sleeping child, he walked outside into the half-light of the setting sun.