A bone-chilling cold swept over him; this was no ordinary cold, but a chilling cold that froze his very soul. Before Thrall, there was only boundless darkness.
Feeling his four "teammates" land beside him, Thrall's heart pounded.
Thrall had heard of the Bronze Dragonflight's methods; they could find heroes with different personalities across Timelines, such as the crazed Jaina, the gentle and refined Thrall, the friendly and loving Sylvanas, Cairne Bloodhoof, who enjoyed eating Orcs, and so on.
These four teammates are very strange; they are very likely from the same background.
Thrall panicked and shouted:
"Who are you? Damn it, why did you send me here?"
Thrall's voice could not travel out; his body was encased in a bubble, which sustained his breathing. Outside the bubble was Void, where no air existed.
A voice reached Thrall's ears, Thrall guessed it was some kind of magic.
"Keep quiet. We've made a deal with Anachronos. If you don't want to die, you'd better behave. Maybe I'll tell you something interesting."
It sounded like Baine's voice, Thrall roared furiously:
"Baine, you Tauren are nothing but food for the Orcs."
"Times have changed, Thrall. This is the End Time," Baine replied.
A ball of light slowly flew to Thrall's side, illuminating the area in front of him and allowing him to see what was happening outside the bubble.
The land was vast and empty, devoid of any vegetation. Countless Restless Souls wandered the earth, many frozen to Restless Souls, becoming statues.
Sylvanas whispered:
"If you are exposed to the elements, you will soon die, your body will turn to dust, and your soul will wander the earth like them, until it freezes to the unknown."
Thrall was terrified and asked, trembling:
Who exactly are you?
Jaina smiled gently. "Thrall, don't you recognize me? I'm Jaina. I remember you biting off my hand back then."
Thrall hadn't lost his mind; he sensed something was wrong.
"Impossible! This is the End Time, the distant future. How could you possibly have lived this long? You're just a human."
Tyrande chuckled:
"Humans certainly can't live that long. Even I, Night Elf, couldn't do it. This is the End Time, but also the final judgment. All the beings that have lived on Azeroth will awaken and face their final judgment."
"Whose judgment will we face?" Thrall asked nervously.
"Elune." Tyrande's expression was grim.
Thrall was somewhat flustered. He saw his four "teammates" being protected by a mysterious force, unaffected by the severe cold, leading Thrall through countless souls.
A familiar soul appeared before Thrall, Grom Hellscream. Unlike the other souls, he was impaled on the ground with a spear through his chest.
Grom struggled painfully, and upon seeing Thrall, let out an angry roar.
He still remembers his experiences before he died.
Thrall was quite frightened, and suddenly a contradiction occurred to him. He asked:
"Damn it, the End Time belongs to a parallel Timeline. If you're going to interrogate someone, you should also interrogate Thrall from this Timeline. What are you doing here capturing me?"
Baine turned around, stared into Thrall's eyes, and whispered:
You will soon understand the Destiny that was meant for you.
In the darkness, Robbie used Holy Light to protect himself and Vanessa, Benedictus nearby, also used Holy Light to protect himself.
This is the End Time; all that remains is boundless darkness and a bone-chilling cold.
Benedictus urged, "The Holy Light can only protect the physical body; this cold affects the very depths of the soul. We must find the Orcs soul that can illuminate our own."
Robbie's eyes focused on Point, Line, and Planes as he carefully analyzed the surrounding darkness.
This is a terrifying power of Corruption, different from the Corruption of the Old Gods. It is mixed with the power of death, but at the same time, there is a hidden breath of life within it.
Fortunately, the Eye of C'Thun can be used here.
Robbie carefully observed his surroundings and indeed saw an endless stream of Orcs souls. A very small number of souls ignited themselves, but most had already turned into statues.
Robbie pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed and said:
"Imagine a kingdom where everyone falls ill, and there's only one cure. One pill is all it takes to get better, and there's just enough for one pill for each person. If all the pills are in the King's possession, how many people would survive?"
Benedictus was puzzled, but still answered:
"Unfortunately, only 20% survived in the end, which consisted of the King and most of the noble class, plus a few soldiers and merchants who were close to the nobles."
"What if it were Orcs?" Robbie asked.
Benedictus pondered for a moment, then said with certainty, "Only the Warchief will survive."
Robbie pointed to the surrounding darkness and said, "That's the situation. They all have the Antidote, but no one can survive."
Benedictus paused for a moment, then suddenly realized, "You mean those sparks?"
Robbie nodded. "The spark is the Antidote."
The light of Warchief Zuluhed went out, Mogor felt that biting chill once more.
The two traveled together, hoping to find a bright and warm place. Although they found several, they were all pushed away without exception.
Mogor's steps slowed, and his soul began to freeze.
"Hold on, my child, someone will take us in," Zuluhed encouraged him.
After walking for an unknown distance, Mogor's steps grew heavier and heavier until he could no longer move.
He transformed into a statue of a soul, and a spark ignited within his chest.
In that instant, he hesitated whether he should ignite the flame, burn his soul, and illuminate himself and Zuluhed in return.
But then he thought about how he was igniting his own soul, and he didn't know what terrible damage he would suffer. Mogor hesitated. Perhaps becoming a statue wouldn't be so bad.
Zuluhed lingered beside him for a while, understood his thoughts, shook his head, and walked into the distance, his back view utterly lonely and desolate.
Mogor endured the icy chill, believing he would soon adapt.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he felt a tremor deep in his soul, as if something had been lost forever, and his consciousness slowly faded away.
Who am I? Where am I?
Robbie pointed to the statues of souls. "The fire doesn't ignite the soul, but rather the chill that seeps into it. As long as you keep igniting yourself, you can live forever."
Vanessa blinked and asked, "But what punishment will they receive if they think it's their soul that's burning, and therefore refuse to ignite themselves?"
Robbie sighed regretfully:
"To become a true statue, to lose all memories of one's past life, to forget oneself."
Benedictus asked nervously, "But we are not Restless Souls, what should we do?"
Robbie whispered:
"After being transformed into a soul statue, with the loss of memories, the mind becomes as pure as a baby's, making it easy to persuade them."
Robbie used a wide-ranging bewitching spell, whispering in their ears like Old Gods.
The statues burned brightly, forming a warm and bright passage that meandered into the distance.