Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today in order to honor the memory of our beloved friend, Pylo the Pylon.
Pylo was born at 9:15, right in the middle of the great Protoss/Terran war. He was the son of a Probe with barely 100 minerals to his name and a young warpfield. His life started with tragedy, as his father left before Pylo was even born, and his warpfield mother collapsed upon his birth and expired.
Still, Pylo was well raised by a Xel'Naga Watchtower that was always by his side through thick and thin. This watchtower taught Pylo about life, and about the great war that was, tragically, soon to claim his life.
Yes, Pylo lived in interesting times, his many hobbies included forming an energy matrix and counseling his Protoss brethren as they came back, often battered and bruised with no shields, from war. Truly Pylo was a giving soul, with nary a selfish crystal in his structural form.
Alas, around the time of 13:50, Pylo heard the sounds of war... of Psy Storms and screams of Terrans... of grenades and bullets and the cries of two of his closest High Templar friends as they expired. Pylo was brave, he didn't run, he stood his ground as a ball of Marauders and Marines (with their dastardly Medivac drug-dealers in tow) came around the corner of Pylo's home and attacked him even as his two Zealot friends and a Colossus valiantly tried to distract the Terrans by sacrificing themselves. Unfortunately, at 14:08, before they could leap into action, Pylo the Pylon was taken from this world.
He is in a better place now, but let us not forget him. He lived a full life, and we should all be so lucky to live as he did. Let us remember him for his silent grace and power, and not for his tragic end.
He is survived by his closest friend, the Xel'Naga Watchtower.
Rest in Peace, Pylo... we'll never forget you.