The screams continued. They reminded him of Shattrath. He had loved the sound, then.
Smoke filled the air, reminding him of Stormwind, of racing through the streets as buildings burned all around him, finding cowering humans and butchering them as they begged for their lives. He had loved the slaughter, then.
And he had loved this war too, hadn’t he?
Saurfang did not move for hours, not until the screams faded and the flames had burned themselves down to embers. Before him, stood a smoking husk that had once been a great civilization. Inside him was a feeling of despair, a feeling of shame. There was no haze of corruption now to soften the horror.
