Make Azeroth breathtaking

"Owner?"

"Prepare my machine, I'm about to launch."

"But Master."

“I know he’s not telling the whole truth, but we have no choice but to fall into his trap.”

As she spoke, Tannis tapped the screen with her finger, projecting a huge planet. On the planet's surface, the clash between green fel flames and golden holy light was so bright it was almost blinding.

“The activity of Sargeras in our world is nearing the seal’s limit—if we don’t quickly sever this ‘resonance,’ our world… will once again face chaos—or perhaps even worse.”

67. The Advice of the Lord of Dread

In a corner of the chaotic void, on a meteorite that still retains its shape.

"Look, mortals, the end of this strange world is drawing near!"

Varimathras, the dreadlord, spread his arms wide, his wings trembling slightly in the chaotic wind, a cruel smile on his lips, as if to embrace the distant, now chaotic and lightless cosmos—seconds earlier, the fleet's glow seemed to have flashed there, but it quickly vanished without a trace.

"No...this is not what I want."

A reborn man in a Burning Legion uniform had a trembling hand, seemingly trying to manipulate something, but his hand was violently slapped away by Varimathras just as he raised it slightly.

"Don't waste your energy, mortals. You can no longer control any 'Legion stuff'—of course, Legion stuff is meaningless now anyway—why didn't the guy who recruited you have a backup plan? You're just self-aware NPCs now—understand? NPCs!"

"So, since we're all useless now, what's the point of gathering us together, Dreadlord?"

A reborn individual, dressed in a suit emblazoned with the distorted Blizzard logo, stared at Varimathras's face and spoke in a deep voice.

"I said, I just want to see the panicked expressions on the faces of self-righteous 'mortals' when they discover they're just pawns, and then I'll devour your souls. Do you believe me?"

"This world still follows the rules of the game. The reason you brought us out is because you 'relocated' the respawn point and intercepted our 'data'."

"Not bad, not bad... It seems that people are different."

Varimathras clapped his hands lightly, then changed the subject.

"But what makes you think that my stopping you wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment decision?"

“You are not the dreadlord of Sargeras—we have ruled over those demons, except for Archimonde and Kil'jaeden—no demons have awakened, and after Amon's intervention, the Legion's combat units have been increasingly focused on the swarm—”

After the employee finished speaking, he paused slightly, raised his head slightly, and spoke with certainty.

"You are not a product of 'World of Warcraft,' you are a dreadlord from the real Azeroth!"

"Oh......"

Varimathras did not refute, but gave a half-smile in response. However, the Legion reborn present understood very well that the lack of rebuttal meant it might be true!

"Wait, isn't there a wipe-out fear in Azeroth? Aren't Nathrezim a priority target?"

"Don't forget that in 9.0, fear belongs to the Shadowlands; death is their home!"

"Come on, that concept doesn't even exist in Azeroth. The Shadowlands are just the Shadowlands; fear has never belonged to the Shadowlands."

So what exactly is going on?

As this earth-shattering mine fell, the Legion respawners present—those who knew even a shred of World of Warcraft—couldn't help but start discussing it. Watching these mortals' increasingly off-topic discussion, Varimathras tilted his head and continued looking at the Blizzard employee who had revealed his true self.

"Why did you and your colleagues choose such a violent way to enter the game? I think... death is not a pleasant thing for you."

"To prove it."

The employee hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Oh? I'd like to hear more about it."

Upon hearing this answer, Varimathras crossed his legs and sat on the uneven surface of the asteroid. Without much hesitation, the employee began to speak.

"Think about it, we originally had some really cool ideas, and then we put those cool ideas into the game, but the players just didn't buy it—of course, before, it didn't matter if they didn't buy it."

"...Interesting. So when 'World of Warcraft' started operating on its own, you found yourself not so useful? So you chose death, entering this world that should have been under your control, to fight against the 'players' and prove yourselves? But as far as I know, not all of you chose this path. That reason isn't quite enough, mortals."

"This is just one of the reasons. In fact, there are many more. For example, I am because of my body, while he is because of stocks... Haha! There are always all sorts of troubles in life. Many times, people do not choose death because of the uncertainty of death."

"So, I suppose you wouldn't want to see the 'uncertainty' that follows the collapse of the world."

Varimathras laughed twice, then stretched out his hand and pointed to the distorted Blizzard emblem on his body.

"I have a plan that requires the cooperation of your surviving colleagues—how about we contact them?"

————————————Blizzard's dividing line——————————————————

"Gurgle gurgle—"

Inside Blizzard's studio, several former high-ranking Blizzard employees were sitting around a table, eating and drinking in silence. As the events surrounding World of Warcraft became increasingly absurd, the official Blizzard team, realizing that these matters were unrelated to them, had loosened some of their control over them. However, this did not mean that their 'being governed' had ended.

How long have they been gone?

A copywriter wiped his mouth, put down the beer can in his hand, turned to look at the several employee ID cards on the wall, and sighed softly.

"I don't know, I've long since stopped caring about time—we are now, ha, I don't even know why we're still being monitored, even though it has nothing to do with us!"

"But we have indeed glimpsed another world, and this has resulted in our world being connected to theirs... In any case, we have value in being observed."

Another copywriter stirred the food on the table with a fork, sounding annoyed.

"So why are we the only ones who are unlucky? There are so many authors in this world who depict all sorts of worlds, why are we the only ones?"

"I don't know. Maybe those worlds don't exist, but Azeroth does... Wait, there's a phone call."

The copywriter who spoke first took out his phone, looked at the flashing number on it, and raised his eyebrows slightly. This action was noticed by his colleagues.

"what happened?"

"An unknown number."

Looking at the animated caller ID, the copywriter hesitated for a long time before answering the call. The next moment, the voice coming from the receiver made him slightly startled.

"It's you?"

"It's me. Listen, things have changed drastically—the Legion's objective has shifted from 'replacing our data with theirs' to 'completely destroying our cyber civilization, leaving no trace.' And now World of Warcraft... well, Azeroth's data is a bit insufficient—I mean, we need more reinforcements."

The voice of a deceased employee came from the other end of the microphone, while the copywriter, who was used to the idea of ​​the dead being resurrected in games, remained silent for a while before shaking his head.

"Sorry, we didn't intend to die in the game. As for using game characters for support, we've been doing that."

"No, that's not what I meant. What I meant was, import all the intelligence data from StarCraft and Diablo—whatever the data is—into World of Warcraft! Just import it directly using the import function—I know World of Warcraft probably already has some of their data, but just do it this way—and if you have any paper documents on hand, scan them and put them in! We need as much data as possible!"

"...Okay, man."

Although they didn't know what the point of doing this was, the copywriter thought it made sense and nodded, looking at the person sitting next to them.

"Guys, we've got work to do."

68. Sargeras's 'Persuasion' to Surrender

"Huff, huff, huff..."

Having finally shaken off the horde of monsters chasing him, Old D leaned against a wall, frantically pounding on the virtual screen in front of him with his right hand, searching for a way to leave this damned place. But to his dismay, his virtual screen was practically empty, with nothing but some basic control panels and a large, obvious logout button.

'Maybe we should just log off? There's nothing we can do right now anyway.'

The thought had barely crossed Old D's mind when he immediately dismissed it. Admittedly, he had solved the problem by logging off when they entered the abnormal area last time, but that was a last resort after multiple attempts. Now, he hadn't even demonstrated the bravery and fearlessness of a player; how could he...?

"boom!!!"

Just as Old D was encouraging himself and trying to take the first step in fighting those monsters, a powerful impact was heard, and the wall behind him collapsed into a pile of fragments, almost burying Old D alive.

"Cough cough cough..."

Although there was no apparent physical damage, the pain system faithfully reflected a series of excruciating pains into Old D's mind, almost causing him to collapse to the ground. Meanwhile, the alarm system on the display screen kept flashing, threatening to 'kill Old D from the system' at any moment.

But the next moment, the pain seemed like an illusion, leaving his body. The control panel in front of him displayed indicators that indicated the system was back online, glowing with a faint blue light. However, to his surprise, his equipment still hadn't returned to him, and he couldn't use his skills.

"FPS mode...ARPG...MMO...none of them work, strange? What identity am I using to stay here now?"

So engrossed in his present situation that Old D selectively ignored the fact that he was in a strange place, when he 'returned from his addiction' from the control panel in front of him, a huge beast with two sharp fangs rushed in front of him, its huge foot viciously stomping on him—through his body, and nothing happened.

"What?! What kind of operation is this?"

Old D, who thought he would be resurrected by this beast's war trampling even if he didn't die, sat up from the ground, staring blankly at the beast shaking its fangs and walking away. He touched his body up and down, trying to make sure he was still a physical being. He didn't notice that another line of faint text suddenly appeared in the core of the WOW logo on the control panel next to him, nor did he notice that the skills in his skill bar had changed to the structure of another game.

"Starcraft".

———————————In the midst of chaos————————————

"......"

Tanis sat in New Granzan, her hands resting on the control crystal, staring at the bronze demon's image that appeared on her screen. She had no idea that the moment she piloted Granzan into this chaotic realm, a 'Legion Lord' born in this world would come knocking on her door.

"You're surprised."

After the two stared at each other for a few seconds, the Legion Leader spoke.

"Yes."

Tanis readily admitted this, while frantically pondering why the 'Legion Lord' would inexplicably contact her—although this 'Sargeras' had displayed astonishing power and a certain degree of effective logical thinking from its inception, everyone knew its true nature: at most, it was just a convergence program generated by timeline resonance. But now, this thing had actually learned to 'talk,' so...

"I hope you will become my new 'Emon' after the war ends."

Before Tanis could figure out why Sargeras had come to her, the Destroyer of Worlds's casual words plunged her into an even more Spartan state.

"You're surprised."

"generally."

Tanis quickly answered Sargeras's question while thinking about how to leak the news, but Sargeras's next sentence almost made her swear.

"Don't worry, the 'rules' we're in right now are the flow of consciousness and the standstill of time. I have plenty of time to talk to you. In human terms, I'm very sincere?"

"...I thank you."

I'm glad you thanked me.

Sargeras, whether genuinely ignoring the gritted teeth in Tannis's voice or feigning ignorance, nodded slightly and continued speaking.

“Eamon, he’s a pathetic guy. He thinks he can use me, and in some ways he has already succeeded. I’m heading in the direction he dreamed of—I don’t care about his manipulation, I really don’t—now, with tens of thousands of ‘souls’ linked to my mind, I can use real ‘emotions’ instead of ‘calculated’ emotions to think about my situation in a chaotic way—something he didn’t anticipate. In the end, he’s just a self-righteous, or as humans would say… a chuunibyou (delusional) idiot?”

"Hahaha...."