Onyxian
Nozdormu gasped – from afar in the time tunnel, he saw that Nathanos's left hand was nothing but bones.
After the Undead are resurrected, they lose most of their senses, but retain the ability to feel pain. How painful would it be for the flesh on their arms to be burned to ashes? What Malygos incomprehensible was that Nathanos did not show any signs of pain; he was as calm as a machine without any sensation.
A roar echoed Grim Batol. The Greyscale Troggs of Grim Batol turned and fled into the surrounding cave openings.
Their master is rapidly approaching.
"Hurry, Nathanos. Time is running out!"
He started with a single breath, inhaling and exhaling.
Water droplets fell down the cracks in the cave ceiling, and the wet rock floor reflected light in the darkness.
He tried to twist his body, but was blocked by the surrounding fluid. He knew he was lying in a cradle-like place, unable to move or get out. So he could only shake his head in frustration, trying to sense the outside world.
Life!
These two words appeared in his mind from the moment his consciousness formed, and for some reason, they felt incredibly familiar, like a warm current flowing through his body. He felt that it was worth protecting, that life was worth protecting, and then, the whole world was worth protecting.
This thought summoned a torment that lashed at him like the venom of a viper, whipping him and subjecting him to an agony a hundred times worse than being dismembered. Only when his reverence for life faded would the pain lessen considerably, and that was exactly what he was preparing for...
——
"My child... I can feel you right now." The voice trembled, yet remained firm.
"You can feel me too."
——
The excruciating pain was indescribable. Pain gripped his throat. He couldn't utter a sound... to respond to those who spoke to him. No one had ever spoken a word to him; only two opposing ideologies clashed frantically over his consciousness—destruction and protection!
The former spared him from pain, while the latter made him tremble in torment, as if poison were flowing through his body.
Why does this happen?
——
"I've found you."
"My spirit is connected to you. I sense your presence through the veil. If you feel it with your heart, you will know that I am not far away."
"I know what you are going through, but this is the pain you must endure. Think carefully, my child, why do you suffer every time you explore life? What is the reason? Or is someone trying to make you feel this way?"
——
Indeed, someone appeared before him. Although he could not see the person's face, that person had the same sense of familiarity, just as life itself had for him.
The pain continued, and he received guidance as he sought answers to the question: why was he being tormented?
He has been living in a small eggshell since birth.
No! That's not right!
A fleeting image flashed through his mind, yet he still managed to grasp it—two fierce, orange-yellow eyes, within which flowed flames that seemed like liquid. A massive jaw, forged from jet-black synthetic metal. The black lower jaw was slightly open, as if revealing a mad, cunning smile.
He understood. He was created; he had died long ago, stuffed into this egg as his life faded. The life energy stored within now enveloped him, being absorbed by him. His body was merely a body; the original consciousness of that body had perished. A new consciousness—himself—was now the master of this body.
Some hoped he would descend upon the world in physical form; that person was feared by the world— Deathwing.
Your only purpose is destruction, destruction!
He recalled how devastating Deathwing's deep voice had been, the sound waves piercing his body and demanding that he reject life, reject everything defined as beautiful. Thus, he was born with a curse: as long as reverence for life existed in his mind, pain would force him to extinguish it.
What is the difference between life and destruction?
——
"This pain is like tasting a potent poison. I know why you have this question, but what you really want to know is how to choose."
"Life or destruction."
"No matter what you choose, my child, I will always be by your side."
"If you can't find the answer, then I can tell you. Life will make you suffer, but you will still be you; destruction will free you from suffering, but you will no longer be you, but a weapon, and once you have served your purpose, you will be discarded. This is what the one who cast the spell did not tell you."
——
The pain subsided, and he no longer thought about life. Before him lay a more pressing question: should he become himself or become a weapon?
His heart naturally gravitated towards the latter. He didn't know what weapons meant, nor what destruction was, but he understood that this path would clarify his goals and simplify the meaning of his existence. Unlike the other path, where what should he do after becoming himself? What should he do? It was all shrouded in mystery.
Become a martial artist...
He suddenly lost his balance, though his feet were never truly on the ground. A beautiful, captivating woman swept past him. Was it an illusion? A memory? He only knew she was crying, and as her tears fell, his heart shattered, sinking into the depths of his soul. Instinct told him he didn't want that woman to cry, because life is fleeting, and she valued life, valued everything in this world. Who was this woman?
——
"Your mother is always fighting for her life, and you are her child."
——
He closed his eyes to stop himself from seeing... not wanting to see the tears sliding down his beautiful face.
The words he couldn't utter were swallowed back. His claws clenched into fists; for a moment, he had resolved to destroy everything. But then his hands began to tremble... and he let go.
The person who truly gave him life will hate him.
With a heart-wrenching gasp, anger surged through his entire being.
Deathwing —a name he hated, yet they wanted to twist and control him.
Black Dragon had no chance of succeeding. His Will gradually hardened, and he endured the excruciating pain, accepting the suffering and forgetting everything.
——
No parent would stand by and watch their child suffer.
"You can resist this pain, as long as you learn to use the power around you, child."
"Feel with your heart, what else awaits you besides life?"
——
A dream!
He immediately felt the power that was closest to life.
In his dream, all physical pain was temporarily isolated. He created a world for himself, where his mother smiled at him and his father stood before him.
Magic!
The most wondrous and inexplicable force in the world, which people believed to be omnipotent. He used ice to resist pain and froze his body.
Time!
History is irreversible. When he felt this force, he understood this truth, but the future is not history yet to come; it is history that can be determined by oneself. He firmly believed that choosing the right path in life was the right thing to do, and only life could allow him to become himself.
Earth!
The power emanating from Deathwing —the black dragon had forgotten its duty. Without the earth, there is no outline of this world; without anyone to protect it, it is always at risk. He felt deeply the profound connection between this land and himself.
——
"When you learn to use them, Deathwing will no longer be able to control you."
——
The pain had vanished, and this time he was filled with a longing for life. Overwhelmed with excitement, he trembled with joy. The eggshell shook in response.
——
"I knew you could do it, son."
"It's almost time. Deathwing is coming soon, and I need to leave for now."
"It's not time to eliminate him yet; his scourge on the world must be eradicated once and for all."
"You must be patient, child. Let him think you are always under his control, and then deliver the fatal blow when he is off guard."
"Remember, child. The people of the past need your help, and your mother, the Queen of Dragons Alexstrasza, also needs your help. In the Wyrmrest Temple ... this world awaits your salvation."
"I am with you... Your name is, Onyxian."