Birth

Lordaeron, Marius Farm. On this day, the once peaceful and harmonious atmosphere was completely shattered. Bred Marius was the owner of the farm. He paced anxiously outside the house, and the pained groans of his wife, Daphne Marius, in labor made him want to rush inside several times. Fortunately, his brother Jonathan stopped him.

"Don't worry, brother. Sister Kana is from Lordaeron Cathedral. She'll definitely make sure your child is born safely."

The reassurance was useless. Bred could not take it in at all. Facing the farm that sustained him, he knelt before the sun and shouted, "O supreme Holy Light, please help my beloved through this ordeal and let my child be born safely." His prayer was full of sincerity, yet the response he received was a bleat. The sheep grazing on the farm had also grown restless because of Daphne's cries. Jonathan nearly laughed when he saw this. Was this the Holy Light's response? He hurriedly covered his mouth, or Bred would surely punch his nose crooked.

Bred clenched his fists, veins bulging. Had the Holy Light not heard his prayers? Why had he still not heard the baby's cries? The sight of the flock peacefully chewing grass before him made him furious.

"Jonathan, hurry up and get these 'white-haired monsters' out of here. I'm going crazy."

"Where should I drive them?"

"To the slaughterhouse, the sea, or that damned logging yard in Dunwald. Anywhere, as long as they disappear."

Jonathan did as he said. Without the flock bothering him, Bred could hear his wife's voice even more clearly, and it tore his heart apart.

"Holy Light, please help my poor Daphne!"

A corner of the universe, Earth, inside a guesthouse. A thunderstorm raged outside. It was hardly the time to be using electrical appliances, yet a pair of slender hands rested on a mouse and keyboard. On the screen, in the classic version, a five-man party stood fully buffed, all at level fifty-five. Though they had already wiped more than a dozen times, it could not shake their determination to take down Nathanos the Witherer. Seated before the computer was a nineteen-year-old youth with an Eastern face. He was the party leader, and as a Hunter, he had to kill the Witherer today to obtain the Bloodwood Hunting Bow.

"I'll say it again. Off-tank, keep those two huskies under control. Everyone else, attack the 'Simp.' (Note: This was the wrong strategy for fighting the Witherer during progression, so don't take it seriously. That's also why they wiped more than a dozen times.) Five, four, three, two, one!" As soon as he finished, the youth shouted, "Charge! Kick his ass!!! Ah!!!!!"

A clap of thunder jolted everyone nearby awake. Not long afterward, the sound of an ambulance reached the scene, but it seemed everything was already too late.

Marius Farm. The sound of a baby crying came from behind Bred, like rain falling from the heavens after a drought. Sister Kana emerged carrying the infant and said happily, "Congratulations, Bred. It's a boy."

Bred immediately took the child. The tiny face looked somewhat strange, but he did not care in the slightest. The baby's cries filled him with wild joy. That wonderful sound gave him hope, and he would never forget it for the rest of his life. "How is Daphne?" Bred asked about his wife's condition.

"Madam is merely exhausted. She's fine and needs rest."

"That's wonderful. Thank the Holy Light, praise the Holy Light!"

Kana looked at Bred. Upon hearing those words, not only had Bred's faith in the Holy Light become firmer, but so had hers. This little fellow must have been born with the Holy Light's blessing.

"Give the child a name."

Bred had nearly forgotten about that. He thought for a moment as he looked at his son. "Little fellow, you put your mother through hell. I should give you an ugly name. Besides, you look rather strange anyway. You'll surely grow up as rough as your father."

Kana smiled. This was the first time she had seen a father judge his newborn child like that. "Don't talk nonsense, Bred. Your son will surely become an elegant gentleman someday."

"Fine, fine, then let's give him an elegant name. That's not easy to think of. What elegant name sounds awful?" Bred looked at Kana in confusion. She smiled helplessly, indicating that she could not help.

"I've got it. Your name will be Nathanos. Nathanos Maris."

Tanaris, Caverns of Time

The duty of the Bronze Dragons was to protect Azeroth's history from being altered. Outside the caverns lay an endlessly scorching desert, while the cracks within reflected the full expanse of the universe. To the Bronze Dragonflight, a single grain of yellow sand was equivalent to a fragment of this world's memories, and they carefully carried out their duties. Deep inside the caverns were teleportation nodes leading to every timeline. Since the disappearance of Nozdormu, the Bronze Dragon King, the Bronze Dragons had become even more cautious.

Zarathos lay beside the Hourglass of Time. With the Dragon King absent, he was the strongest adult Bronze Dragon here. The young dragons flying around him and the dragonkin holding enormous spears watched over the timelines without pause. It was grueling work, because they had to repeat their inspections every day, endlessly cycling through the boundaries of time.

"Lord Zarathos, an anomaly has appeared in Lordaeron's timeline!"

Zarathos opened his eyes. As he stood, the yellow sand on his body cascaded down like a waterfall. He stared at the fellow Bronze Dragon who had reported the anomaly, making sure he was not a spy.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice echoing through the caverns. Before he could receive an answer, another Bronze Dragon behind him shouted, "My lord, an anomaly has appeared in Stratholme's timeline."

"What?!"

"My lord, an anomaly has appeared in Quel'Thalas's timeline."

"An anomaly has appeared in Grim Batol."

"An anomaly has appeared in the Well of Eternity."

"Enough!" Zarathos furiously raised his palm and slammed it into the ground. The caverns trembled, and every Time Guardian felt his rage. "Other than anomalies, have you discovered what caused them? What exactly happened?"

"Lord Zarathos."

Hearing someone call his name, the giant dragon turned and saw a slender figure. Sarina, a Bronze Dragon in High Elf form, bowed to Zarathos. "Every timeline has fluctuated to some extent. There is only one possibility: some outsider has entered Azeroth. But strangely, we cannot find him."

"That's impossible!" Zarathos looked toward the Hourglass of Time. Within it flowed countless fine threads formed from gathered yellow sand. Those innumerable strands were the timelines. Tiny red dots had appeared on every ribbon that had once been golden, like flickering flames, but they immediately vanished along with the flowing sand—or rather, merged into it. Had the crisis resolved itself? Zarathos stared incredulously at the timelines gradually returning to normal. He had overlooked something. Yes, he quickly discovered it. His eyes widened as he shouted, "The Forsaken! Where have the Forsaken gone? Sylvanas! Where has the Queen of the Banshees gone? Check it immediately!"

A huge discrepancy had appeared in the Forsaken's timeline. It had been completely distorted and even showed signs of vanishing.

"My lord, everything is in chaos!"

"What now?" Zarathos's thoughts were already confused enough, and he asked impatiently.

"Look!"

At a glance, Zarathos saw the royal hall of Silvermoon City. Its red tones symbolized the sun, while purple curtains and soft carpets preserved its comfort. Its lavish decorations told the world how prosperous it was. Inside the hall stood three familiar figures. Their Ranger attire could not conceal their graceful figures, and their beautiful faces alone were enough to earn them praise as peerless beauties—the three sisters of the Windrunner family! Zarathos knew how important they were to this world. "They may be waiting for an audience with the King. There's nothing unusual about that."

"No, that isn't it, my lord. This timeline takes place during the Outland era."