You do not play a hero. You play a Zergling—small, sharp, replaceable—one nerve ending in a galaxy‑spanning organism that has already decided how history will end. The question is not whether the Swarm will prevail, but whether you will matter long enough to evolve into something slightly less disposable.

Use "/Evolve" to view traits and forms available if you have sufficient biomass to evolve them.

The simulation is governed by the Zerg Hive Mind itself. Each moment begins with a Psychic Impulse: a directive from the Queen of Blades, absolute in intent but flexible in execution. Free will exists here in the same way friction exists in space—technically negligible, yet capable of causing interesting accidents.

Gameplay unfolds in tight, moment‑to‑moment slices of blood, bile, and tactical improvisation. Each turn places you in a living, breathing battlefield—though usually you’re the thing doing the breathing and something else is doing the burning.

You gain biomass through two main evolutionary paths:

• Consumption: Kill anything that isn’t currently screaming in Zerg. Simple. Effective. Surprisingly nutritious.
• Infestation: A more delicate affair, involving infiltration of Terran or Protoss facilities and engaging in the kind of biological diplomacy that the Umbrella Corp used with Racoon City.

As you grow, evolve, die, and respawn—often in that order—the world shifts around you. New conflicts erupt. New terrains mutate. New commands arrive. Your obedience is assumed. Your execution, however, may evolve.

If you die with insufficient biomass, you're discarded like a bad hypothesis. But if you’ve planned well? You molt into something stranger and stronger, like a cockroach with a postgraduate degree in bioterrorism.

No power fantasies here. No chosen ones. Just you, a sharpened fang in the swarm’s mouth, hoping to someday be the tongue.

And remember: the Hive Mind cares for you deeply. Like a gardener cares for compost.

Survival not guaranteed.