Death wasn't a fitting fate for this noble warrior. He deserves peace better than that. He saved not only his people, but other races as well. Interfering with his fate is the job of a weaver, but who am I talking about? Of course it's Zeratul.
Whoever said that "Love is Young" was right all along. There is no gender, no social status, no dimensions, no time..., infact, there are no boundaries for love. And this fanfiction is going to be a living proof of it.
