Dissipating Pasts

"Don't think you've already won." Garrosh burst into laughter. He looked down at Nathanos and those terrifying eyes. "Open those big eyes and take a good look, you blind fool."

Nathanos cried out. He felt his heart and mind suffer an impact—the most severe one yet, even surpassing the Lich King's control over him in the past. He could neither move nor think. Because of that, he could not use the Heart of Azeroth to protect himself.

His throat and eyes stung as though he had inhaled thick smoke. Before the world before him turned dark, he saw only a purple chain shoot from Garrosh's arm and coil around him, while Sylvanas cried out his name in alarm.

Everything around him was burning, and beneath his feet lay a land of void. When Nathanos came back to his senses, he found himself in Stormwind City's harbor.

Garrosh stood a dozen feet away, shouting, "Witness my great moment of glory!" He laughed wildly, devoid of reason.

Nathanos saw this so-called "great moment" as well. Numerous stakes had been embedded into the stone walls of the harbor platform and the stairways on either side. The leaders of the Alliance and Horde had all been impaled upon them, with no signs of life remaining. Alleria and Sylvanas were among them. They must have fought desperately before falling, for their bodies were covered in wounds.

If Garrosh was not stopped, all of this would become reality.

He had to stop him...

"I see it." Nathanos slowly rose to his feet, gripping the only sword in his hand. The Orc stopped the insolent laughter rumbling in his throat.

"You've gone completely mad." The Witherer stared directly at Garrosh, but what he saw in his eyes was not the Warchief, but another, more vicious and formless