The Spire

The two little Bronze Dragon carvings on the Time Aspect came to life and let out dragon roars. The sand in the hourglass began to glow and swirl, producing a soft melody. The energy erupting from it was like a golden tornado, enveloping everyone in an instant.

Time stopped.

People's expressions froze in place—some were furious, some anxious, others bewildered. Only three people present were untouched by the hourglass's power.

"Look, look. Even the supposedly mighty celestials cannot escape the shackles of time." Kael'thas looked exceptionally pleased. Without exception, the four celestials had fallen under time's control, their bodies coated in gold like statues. Then Kael'thas fixed his gaze on Nathanos. "It is time to say goodbye, The Witherer."

"You?" Nathanos's gaze shifted back and forth between Kael'thas and Garrosh.

"Do not look at me like that. The people you should be paying attention to are not us, but..."

Everything happened too quickly. The Heart of Azeroth's roar warned him. Nathanos summoned his warblade, spun around, and raised it over his head to block the sudden ambush. The attacker was wrapped in a black robe. Nathanos was surprised to discover that their strength was evenly matched.

When he turned back, a massive portal had already appeared behind Garrosh and Kael'thas. Through it, Nathanos saw a rich, fertile land. Where were the Bronze Dragons taking Grommash?

"Hello, The Witherer."

That voice? Nathanos whipped around. Kael'thas was right. The person he needed to focus on was this one.

"Where is Sylvanas?" he roared. His fury gave him strength, and he struck the attacker back with force. Only then did he see that the other man also wielded a warblade, its surface flickering with crimson magical runes.

"You care about her a great deal." The man teased him in an exceedingly casual tone.