Point of View: Tharok
I couldn't move.
The pain was unbearable.
Every breath burned from within, as if something inside my chest had shattered. The air came in heavy, useless… and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fill my lungs.
I forced my eyes open.
Darkness.
Nothing else.
No light… no shape… only a cold void wrapping around everything.
I tried to focus, but my mind wouldn't respond. Everything was blurred, slow… as if I were trapped between consciousness and sleep.
I forced my attention toward the system.
A notification appeared—unstable, as if even that required effort to maintain.
[Time until overflow: 27 days]
My heart trembled.
I lowered my gaze as much as I could.
And then I felt them.
Chains.
My arms were bound behind my back, stretched tight, completely immobilized. The ground beneath my knees was rough, damp… cold.
Slowly, my vision began to adjust.
Stone.
Shadows.
Deep darkness.
A dungeon.
My throat tightened.
I couldn't be wrong.
I had been in too many to mistake it.
Something warm slid down my chest.
Blood.
Mine.
It dripped slowly, hitting the ground in a steady, silent rhythm.
I tried to move.
A mistake.
Pain exploded through my body, and a spasm forced me forward. A groan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
I clenched my teeth.
I remembered nothing.
How did I get here?
My head felt… too heavy.
Everything was clouded.
—…I was drugged…
The thought barely formed before something else surfaced.
A voice.
Soft.
Warm.
Familiar.
—"You don't need to take more… others need it more than you."
My breathing faltered.
—…Mother…
And then—
The world changed.
I was in my hut.
The air was warm. Peaceful.
It wasn't a luxurious place. Compared to Dalaran, it was simple… even poor.
But it was mine.
And that made it everything.
Every corner held a story. Every wooden plank, every imperfection… had been built with my own hands.
With my grandfather.
With my mother.
The floor creaked softly beneath my feet as I walked. The walls were covered with hides from past dungeon raids—some mine, others my grandfather's.
They weren't just trophies.
They were memories.
A life.
One that was gone.
I looked around in silence.
The table where my grandfather taught me to work wood.
The corner where my mother cooked, humming songs I never fully learned.
The door… where I had waited for her return so many times.
A faint smile formed on my face.
—Mother… you'd be proud.
My voice was low, almost a whisper.
—I'm still following our tradition.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable.
It was familiar.
I had returned from Dalaran not long ago.
As always, I didn't go for myself.
Some smaller tribes went there seeking help. They didn't have the strength to clear their dungeons… and if they didn't, overflow was inevitable.
I had seen it too many times.
That's why I always went.
Few did.
Most preferred to grow stronger first, to focus on their own tribe, to survive.
And I understood.
This world didn't reward kindness.
But even so…
I couldn't ignore them.
Not after everything I had been taught.
When we finished, they always offered resources as payment.
But I never took much.
I didn't need it.
They did.
Our tribe used to be like that.
Strong… but fair.
But everything changed when my grandfather died.
And my father took his place.
It wasn't hard to understand.
Resources mattered.
Strength mattered.
But still…
I didn't want to become someone who only took.
If I needed more… I would just work harder.
I placed my belongings inside the old wooden chest my grandfather had made. Despite the years, it remained sturdy… as if refusing to fade.
Then I heard it.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Movement outside.
A smile appeared on my face without thinking.
—Father…
I stepped outside quickly.
The tribe was full of life. Warriors talked, some laughed, others showed their wounds with pride.
There was exhaustion…
But also satisfaction.
I moved through them until I found him.
Standing tall.
Imposing.
As always.
—Father!
He turned at my voice and smiled.
I ran to him without thinking and embraced him tightly.
—I missed you…
I felt his hand rest on my shoulder—firm, heavy.
—I missed you too, son.
His voice was steady. Confident.
As always.
I pulled back slightly, examining him for injuries.
—Did the conquest go well? Were you hurt?
—Nothing important.
I nodded, relieved.
Then I saw them.
Marek.
My best friend.
The second-in-command.
He approached with his usual confidence, wearing that easy, familiar smile.
—Just in time —he said—. You couldn't welcome your father without me.
I smiled.
—Never.
And then—
Her.
Sara.
My heart skipped.
She walked toward me with steady steps, confident as always. There was something… calming about her presence.
My fiancée.
—I brought her —Marek added—. I knew you'd miss her.
I didn't answer.
Sara was already in front of me.
Our eyes met.
And for a moment… everything else disappeared.
—How are you? —she asked softly—. I missed you.
—I missed you too…
I embraced her.
And she returned it.
Her arms wrapped around me firmly.
Warm.
Close.
But…
Something didn't fit.
I didn't know what exactly.
Maybe the way her fingers gripped me.
Maybe the pressure.
Or maybe…
Her eyes.
For a brief moment, there was nothing in them.
No warmth.
No affection.
I blinked.
And it was gone.
—I thought you'd take longer —she murmured.
—I finished earlier than expected.
—That's good…
Marek stepped closer.
—We needed you —he said—. The tribe isn't the same without you.
I chuckled softly.
—Don't exaggerate.
—I'm not.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Something silent passed between them.
Something I didn't understand.
I frowned slightly, but said nothing.
At that moment…
I wasn't alone.
Despite everything…
I had them.
My father.
My best friend.
And the love of my life.
…
Pain tore me out of the memory.
Sudden.
Violent.
My body tensed against the chains, and a groan escaped my lips.
The darkness returned.
The cold.
The blood.
Reality.
I struggled to breathe, trying to understand what was happening.
Then I heard footsteps.
Slow.
Steady.
Echoing through the dungeon.
Someone was approaching.
I raised my head as much as I could.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
My heart stopped for a moment.
—…Sara?
It was her.
—Sara! —my voice came out desperate— Are you okay? What happened?! We need to get out of here!
She stopped in front of me.
Silent.
Then she sighed.
—Looks like you woke up.
Something in her tone… was wrong.
—Sara… what's going on?
She pulled out a flask.
An elixir.
I stared at it, confused.
—What are you doing? Get me out of here… we can escape… go back to the tribe—
She slowly shook her head.
—Go back?
Her voice carried a strange edge.
—Do you have any idea how hard it was to bring you here?
My mind went blank.
—…What?
Before I could react, she grabbed my face firmly.
Pain exploded in my chest.
I tried to scream, but couldn't.
The liquid was forced into my mouth.
Bitter.
Heavy.
—Not yet —she murmured—. Not yet.
My vision began to darken.
—…Sara…?
I looked at her.
Waiting.
Searching.
For anything.
But there was nothing.
No warmth.
No doubt.
No regret.
—Sleep.
And this time…
Fear was the last thing I felt.