There were always things more important than war, and many of them.
Peace, life, living-these things carried a hundred times more weight than war, yet they had to be achieved through war. It was an unavoidable path.
Dick understood this clearly. If they could not crush the demon alliance on Argus, the flames of the Burning Crusade would reach Azeroth one day. Rather than wait for them to attack in full force, Dick preferred to strike first and keep the initiative in his own hands. Rather than wait for Azeroth to become scorched earth in a defensive war, it was better to turn this already dead world into scorched earth.
As a leader, you could be vicious, scheme, do whatever you wanted, be vile, and even be shameless, but you had to take responsibility. You had to see a more distant future than your subordinates and ordinary people could.
A farmer in Westfall would not care about the demons of the legendary Burning Legion. Unless the demons brought the war to his farm, he would not take up arms and fight them to the death.
Yet now, a group of Azeroth's noblest and most powerful people remained on the unfamiliar soil of Argus, intending to fight its demons to the death.
What they sought through this sacrifice was a nobler future. They were people worthy of respect.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Guided by Freya, Dick and the others appeared at a particular point outside the Argus Sector. They floated in the void, experiencing that peculiar environment without gravity. They could not breathe here, but Dick and Odyn alike stood steadily, looking at the enormous fleet of demon starships stationed in the distance.
Without a doubt, that was the "Creator's chamber" Freya had spoken of.
When the Titans created the Guardians, they