Timid, cowardly, and hesitant.
Thorim hates himself for this.
He watched helplessly as his wife fell to the ground, trampled by countless Orcs.
After the destruction of the Pantheon and the loss of Titans protection, the Titan Keepers of Azeroth were like homeless children.
With their homes destroyed and no one to rely on, a growing sense of loss filled their hearts, like a rootless duckweed.
Ten thousand years have passed in the blink of an eye. When the final chapter of the judgment arrives, who can the Titan Keepers rely on? Thorim has to consider his own situation.
Sif's soul was bound within the gray sphere, scorched by black Flames, and cried out in agony for Thorim's name.
Thorim's eyes flashed with billions of bolts of Lightning, and his warhammer slammed into the ground, causing the mountain peaks to tremble and a terrifying earthquake to shake the earth.
He was filled with hatred and boundless rage, but reason told him that he could not take action.
After decades of trials and tribulations, most intelligent beings in the mortal world have their rough edges smoothed out by life, becoming mature and wise, smooth and worldly-wise.
But in the end, all they learned was patience; they were just deceiving themselves into thinking they had matured.
Over the course of millennia, Thorim's mind had been forged into steel.
Thrall grinned menacingly and shattered Sif's heart with a single blow, extinguishing her last hope.
Thorim roared like Thunder, his head thrown back. The sky was filled with dark clouds, and Lightning flashed like venomous snakes, as if it were the end of the world.
Then, a bitter smile appeared on Thorim's lips. Something inside him had been lost forever; he felt empty and utterly lost, like a walking corpse.
What's wrong with this world?
Thorim felt he was about to die.
He sat listlessly on the throne, lost in deep thought.
Time passed indefinitely. Thorim was lost in thought, his mind a jumbled mess. He longed for eternal slumber, to escape this chaotic world.
Someone interrupted Thorim's thoughts: Angrim, the Frost Giant King, arrived with dozens of Frost Giants, bringing with him Sif's corpse.
Trampled by Orcs, mutilated Corpses.
Thorim knew everything, but he couldn't face his wife's death.
Endless rage burned within Thorim's heart, while his mature rationality tormented him, pushing his thoughts to the brink of madness.
A sinister smile crept across Thorim's lips as he wielded his warhammer, Krolmir, and walked step by step to the foot of the temple.
Angrim, the Frost Giant King, knelt respectfully on the ground, his heart filled with dread before this god-like being.
"My lord, we have discovered Lady Sif's body. This has nothing to do with us; we truly have no idea what happened. We beg you to investigate thoroughly."
Angrim tried his best to discern that, in his heart, the Titan Keepers were just, but he was still worried that Thorim would take his anger out on the Frost Giants.
Thorim's tall figure walked step by step toward Sif's body. He couldn't bear to look at the mangled Corpse; guilt and hatred gradually eroded his mind.
This world is inherently dark; it's a dog-eat-dog world. Where is fairness and Justice then?
"Angrim, a mere Frost Giant, dares to kill a noble god."
The Frost Giant King was greatly alarmed and hurriedly said, "No, no, that's not how it is."
Thorim ignored his explanation and only wanted to vent his boundless rage, slamming his warhammer down with a deafening crash.
The Frost Giants are often referred to as "Sons of Hodir," descendants of the Titan Keepers Hodir. Like the Storm Giants, descendants of Thorim, they are creations of the Titan Keepers.
Driven by the twisted hatred in his heart, Thorim did not hesitate to attack the Frost Giant.
After his impulsive act, Thorim regained his senses. Looking at the shattered remains of the Frost Giant King, Thorim decided to go with the flow and attack the entire Frost Giant race.
The Storm Peaks, the Frost Giants ' camp, were filled with the terrifying Thunder of Thorim and the Frost Giants ' agonizing howls, which finally alerted God of Wisdom Loken.
Loken stood up abruptly, using the power of Thunder to survey his surroundings and figure everything out.
"Sif, how could this happen?"
Loken was horrified.
In his calculations, the break between Thrall and Sif was inevitable, and the indecisive Thorim, unsure of which side to take, would ultimately succumb to madness.
Next, the Titan Keepers will be vilified as the Destroyers, Ulduar will be attacked by the Alliance and the Horde.
But Loken did not anticipate Sif's death.
After all, Thrall's strength was insufficient to threaten a Titan Keepers.
"Sif's soul is still suffering, and I must save her from this torment, but Thorim?" Loken realized that things might not be so simple.
"A crisis is looming; we must make a decision."
Having spent thousands of years with them, Loken knew his companions' personalities very well, watching them gradually descend from their lofty divine status to be Corruption by the mortal world, acquiring the thoughts and troubles of ordinary people.
Loken entered Ulduar, heading towards the deepest reaches of darkness.
Since the Battle of Orgrimmar, in which the Four Guardians were severely damaged, Loken has been handling all matters inside and outside Ulduar, including the sealing of Yogg-Saron.
Yogg-Saron's power had long since broken through the seal; from within the dark cavern, countless tiny tentacles opened their eyes, gazing at Loken's gloomy face.
"God of Wisdom Loken, for thousands of years we have spoken and clashed countless times, but I have never seen you so downcast. Is the end of Ulduar about to come?"
Loken walked to the towering stone gate, feeling the immense power of the Old Gods sealed within.
"Yogg-Saron, at this rate, how long until you escape the seal?"
The whispers of the Old Gods echoed in Loken's ears:
"You have absolutely no need to worry. The Titans' seal is incredibly strong. You were all destroyed long ago after I escaped this cage. I don't understand the Titans' technology, so I can't repair you. Alternatively, you should choose to become flesh and blood, and then you can witness the day when the Black Empire returns."
"Yogg-Saron, I need your help," Loken said bluntly.
Yogg-Saron knew everything all along, and whispered with a mocking tone:
"I never intended to corrupt the Titans Guardians, because I've always known that the greatest corruption doesn't come from our Old Gods, but from this filthy and corrupt world. It makes me nostalgic for the era of the Black Empire, a time of harmony, free from deceit and treachery, where the pursuit of power was pure and simple."
Loken gazed at the seal on the stone gate and asked, "Yogg-Saron, how much power do you need?"
He whispered in Loken's ear, "That depends on who you need me to deal with."
Loken said in a deep voice, "The four Guardians of Ulduar: Hodir, Thorim, Freya, and Mimiron."
The whisper was slightly surprised, "That would require considerable strength. Perhaps you should release one of my tentacles, though it's only one of millions."
Loken manipulated the seal on the stone gate, and with a series of rumbling sounds, one of Yogg-Saron's tentacles was freed and entered the mortal world.
"Here's a little gift for you, free of charge," Yogg-Saron said happily.
"Bring me Sif's soul; perhaps I have a way to bring her back to life. I will give Thorim a chance for Redemption."