A Plea for Help from the Bronze Dragon King

A powerful magical force made him feel as if he were being torn apart, as if he were about to be ripped to pieces. His claws dug deep into the ground, and he managed to hold on, but he was about to give way.

The raging magical energy relentlessly assaulted his senses, even resonating with the Time Power within him. His power increased, but became uncontrollable. The Titan Power bestowed upon him by Aman'Thul was released, and the flow of time rapidly shifted before his eyes. He saw Lothar fallen in battle—yes, this was the correct history—but what followed was something he had never anticipated. A blood-red banner flew over the Lordaeron City; an Undead stormed the Ruby Sanctum, stealing a strangely colored Dragon Egg; Deathwing bore five small green dots on his back; and a storm gathered above a palace. He had never seen a palace of this style before.

These things were all unfamiliar, and for Nozdormu, the Bronze Dragon Aspect, "unfamiliar" was a terrifying word. This history wasn't like that!

What disturbed him most was that he saw another version of himself, a version of himself at the end of time. His entire body was covered in black scales that looked as if they had been stained with a dark substance, and his claws and horns on his head shimmered like white crystals. Only his eyes were exactly the same as his current appearance, and they even looked somewhat spirited.

Nozdormu shook his head helplessly, letting out a long howl to express his pain and depression. He had tried his best to control his power, but chaos was inevitable.

He is a dragon, a guardian dragon. His scales, seemingly sculpted from quicksand, shimmer with the color of the sun. He can manipulate time, controlling it like a puppet on strings. The responsibilities of the Time Lord are as noble as those of the other dragons. The creators of this world created him and four other companions when they created Azeroth, bestowing upon Nozdormu special powers. He is the most mysterious, able to see countless futures and explore the intricate past. He can roam freely in the river of time, unaffected by the passage of years.

However, at this moment, Nozdormu is facing an unprecedented crisis, and despite his many efforts, all to no avail.

Where did this disaster originate? The Dragon of Time had asked himself this question more than once. Why did it happen? He had no clue. He could only return to the past to investigate the problem. He went back ten thousand years, before the world order had been formed. He examined the Well of Eternity, but the result was that he plunged himself into an abyss of no return.

After returning to the frontier, he flew towards the center of the continent. He knew better than anyone that the Well of Eternity, though seemingly a lake, held hidden mysteries. The immense power it contained truly astonished him, reminding the Time Lord of the Creators. Apart from the Titans, no one could fathom its secrets. Besides the magic within the well, the Bronze Dragon Aspect also knew that some unspeakable secrets lay hidden beneath the lake's surface—the bodies of the Old Gods.

As he approached the Well of Eternity, he heard whispers in his ears.

'Al'ksh syq iir awan? Iilth sythn aqev aqev aqev.' (Is this real or an illusion? You're going mad... mad... mad...)

Nozdormu was very familiar with that voice. The evil power lurking within those whispers was far more ancient and far more insidious.

Slowly, a faint power gathered before him. This power felt so familiar that when the truth was finally revealed, he could hardly accept it. Nozdormu hesitated; he must be mistaken. It couldn't be it! This couldn't possibly be! It was long dead!

Nozdormu flew closer to the rushing lake. His eyes continued to search downwards, his wings propelling his body ever downwards, drawing ever closer to the center of the lake... The truth was about to be revealed.

Suddenly, several curled tentacles shot out from the spring and wrapped around his wings, limbs, and neck.

Caught off guard, the Time Dragon was nearly dragged into the lake. He struggled desperately to break free of the tentacles' grasp, but they quickly enveloped him. His limbs were completely under control, and the tentacles around his neck tightened further, making it almost impossible for the dragon to breathe.

'This is just an illusion,' Nozdormu reminded himself. But the illusion was powerful enough to become real. His mind was bound by some power lurking within the Well of Eternity. More than a dozen tentacles had already wrapped around his body. The Time Lord was mercilessly dragged down to the cosmos below.

The surface of the Well of Eternity was already a massive whirlpool, possessing an astonishingly strong suction force. He was getting closer and closer to the Well of Eternity.

It's just like a mouth!

Nozdormu struggled desperately, trying to escape at all costs. He didn't know what would happen if he were caught in the Well of Eternity, but it certainly wouldn't be a good thing.

The tentacles clung relentlessly to him. The whispers emanating from the well had grown even more malevolent, ravenous. These eerie sounds filled Nozdormu with utter terror. They were more terrifying than demons...

As the essence of time, the Creators made Nozdormu aware of the end of his life. This also emboldened him. Nozdormu knew perfectly well when and why he would die, but this was not yet his time to die.

However, he is now unable to escape all of this.

The tentacles tightened abruptly, and Nozdormu felt as if his bones were about to crack. He reminded himself again that it was all an illusion, but this did nothing to alleviate the waves of excruciating pain and deep anxiety he had never felt before.

The desired effect has been achieved. Was it fantasy or reality? He no longer wanted to distinguish, because the connection between the two had become unbearable. If it were anyone else, they would probably have given up long ago, fallen into the lake, and ended their lives.

But he couldn't! Nozdormu knew it. A thought flashed through his mind: he had no choice but to take a desperate gamble, to make a final stand. He had no other option.

The Time Dragon's body suddenly glowed. Countless swirls of yellow sand swept over it. Everything flashed back to what it had just been. All movements reversed. The tentacles that had been binding it loosened, retreating back into the water...

Nozdormu knew this wouldn't get him out of danger; he just wanted to figure one thing out. Having ended this great time reversal, he once again stood above the Well of Eternity. Just then, the tentacles appeared. Without hesitation, Nozdormu spat Time Sand, repelling the attack.

But then, the Maelstrom suddenly changed. Jagged edges appeared in the waves, the center of the lake grew deeper and deeper, and a new tentacle seemed to emerge from the middle, but it was different from the previous one. This tentacle was long and tough, with hooks at the tip.

It really is all talk!

Nozdormu knew he couldn't escape; he was already severely weakened. The evil power within the Well of Eternity had manifested. He finally understood the true nature of everything. Compared to it, even the Burning Legion's terrifying destructive power paled in comparison.

Just a second before the tentacles seized him, the Time Lord unleashed a deafening roar toward the future.