Yrel's heart was in turmoil. Ever since she had been pulled back from the brink of death and met Deathstroke, she suddenly felt that her past had been like an insect trapped beneath an overturned bowl.
She had known nothing, seen nothing, and been fooled in circles by glowing creatures.
No, not just her—all Draenei, including her teacher, Prophet Velen.
"What will the Naaru do?"
"If I were A'dal, I'd definitely claim that the Naaru lacked the energy to take the entire Tempest Keep fleet with them when fleeing. Then I'd have all you Survivors board the escape vessel Exodar and abandon Tempest Keep, Exodar, Botanica, and Arcatraz on Draenor."
Su Ming spun this nonsense almost without thinking, freely weaving together pieces of the Timeline. Even the Bronze Dragonflight would not have been able to find a flaw in it.
"These high-tech vessels are the technicians' treasures. I'd make them choose between technology and their lives. Then, once Exodar escaped to a new world, I'd deliberately make it crash, smashing all the technical records and equipment to pieces. By then, every Draenei would have no choice but to rely on the Naaru."
"That's terrifying. If that's true, when will we ever be able to retake Argus?" Yrel sucked in a cold breath and clenched her fists. Their greatest enemy was actually within their own ranks. No matter how she thought about it, there was no possible path to victory.
Seeing her grave expression, Su Ming knew she had clearly believed the words of her savior and thought she had glimpsed a corner of the truth.
So he redoubled his efforts to slander the Naaru.
"They never intended to help you reclaim Argus. They only want more cannon fodder to fight the Burning Legion and the Void Lords. Promising to restore