That night, deep within the palace, Rhodes sat in his study reflecting on the day's events and contemplating his plans for Theramore.
For the next period, Azeroth was set to enter a relatively stable phase; most of the major world-ending bosses hadn't made their move yet. The only real disturbances would likely come from Cho'gall and the imminent appearance of the former Guardian, Aegwynn. It was also high time for Jaina to return to Theramore. It felt like destiny—her meeting the previous Guardian would lay the foundation for her becoming the future's most powerful sorceress on Azeroth.
Rhodes planned to involve himself just enough to see if he could reap some benefits. After all, the biggest perk would be his wife-to-be inheriting a portion of the Guardian's power.
Jaina hadn't come to rest with Rhodes tonight; she was spending time with her father and sister. Rhodes hadn't sought out Calia either, as the Queen was now pregnant, making it an unsuitable time for such visits. He intended to get some proper rest, stay in Lordaeron for a few more days, and then use a teleportation spell to move to Kalimdor and take up official residence in Theramore. If a crisis arose, he could always zip back across continents in an instant.
His monthly routine still involved delivering Greater Demons to Illidan, but otherwise, his schedule was clear. Rhodes planned to use the next three years to refine his personal strength and integrate his current abilities. While he was incredibly powerful, much of that strength relied on the System. Now that he had ascended to the top tier of Azeroth's power rankings, he understood the importance of self-cultivation.
Sometimes, one cannot simply rely on the soldiers of Heroes of Might and Magic; one's own "hard power" must be brought up to speed. Just as Rhodes was about to lie down for a nap, however, something changed.
Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to freeze. The candle flames stopped flickering, and the chirping of insects outside vanished. An ancient aura, transcending time and space, permeated the room.
Rhodes snapped into high alert. He drew his weapon, Holy Judgment, and summoned his personal bodyguard, the Holy Archangel.
"Who dares intrude upon the residence of the Grand Marshal of the Alliance? Show yourself!" Rhodes demanded, sword in hand.
"Do not be tense, Rhodes. I mean no malice, and you should be able to guess why I am here," a middle-aged man's voice echoed in his ears.
A figure appeared in the center of the room without warning. He wore simple brown robes, his face hooded in shadow, with shimmering mirages of flowing sand swirling around him. Most striking was the hourglass he held, glowing with an eternal light. It was Nozdormu, the Bronze Dragon Aspect, the Timeless One.
Though he had never met the Guardian of Time, as a hardcore World of Warcraft player, Rhodes recognized him instantly. While players were usually more familiar with the "gnome" Chromie—who was actually a male dragon in a female gnome's form—meeting the Aspect himself was a different level of gravity.
"A ripple has splashed from the river of time where none was expected, Rhodes... or should I say, 'Son of the Light.' First, congratulations on becoming Prince of Lordaeron, the true king in all but name. Your co-reign with the Queen has utterly rewritten this timeline." Nozdormu's voice was deep and raspy, sounding as though it carried the weight of eons.
The Bronze Dragonflight should have caught Rhodes the moment he crossed over. However, a mysterious power had shielded him, clouding the vision of the Flight and allowing an outsider to grow into someone capable of dictating the fate of Azeroth. Initially, the Bronze Dragons wanted to eliminate him, suspecting a plot by the Infinite Dragonflight. But every time they tried to act, they were restrained by unseen forces or distracted by sudden "glitches" in other time nodes.
By the time the Bronze Dragons realized the extent of the problem, it was too late. History had been fundamentally altered. Not long ago, Rhodes had even left Azeroth to travel to the shattered realm of Draenor, where he changed the fates of Illidan and countless others.
Rhodes felt a chill but wasn't surprised. Dealing with Titan-level entities was inevitable. "Guardian of Time, Nozdormu. I presume you didn't come here just to congratulate me on my new title."
"I shall be blunt, Lord Rhodes. Which timeline are you from? Or rather... what are you exactly?" Nozdormu asked.
The Bronze Dragons had checked every future and past timeline but found no record of this man. It was as if a mysterious benefactor was protecting his origins. It wasn't the Infinite Dragonflight; they couldn't hide their tracks from their past selves.
Rhodes's origins were an anomaly. He knew the future but had no traceable past. After much deliberation, the Dragon Aspect had intended to personally correct this "error," but a supreme, transcendent voice had intervened, giving Nozdormu a new mission.
"I am myself, Great Dragon Aspect," Rhodes replied. "I have a mission. Perhaps destiny is why you didn't find me sooner. I can make Azeroth better and help it withstand the coming disasters."
"Mortal power is but a speck of dust in the torrent of time. I am here because you and the 'variables' you brought have caused... significant turbulence," Nozdormu said, waving a finger in the air.
Blurred images flickered: a Blood Elf restoration that was supposed to be much harder, the Draenei uniting far too early, the Black Dragon Princess exposed prematurely, and a Lordaeron far more powerful than history intended.
"Many tragedies were avoided, and threats were exposed early. This is good, but it brings a new, unknown chaos. The timeline needs correction toward a path that favors Azeroth's survival," Nozdormu said, locking eyes with Rhodes. "And the most critical node has developed a massive void and paradox. It occurred ten thousand years ago, during the War of the Ancients. You appeared there, Rhodes. I trust I don't need to explain why."
Rhodes nodded. Since meeting Cenarius and Tyrande, he knew he'd eventually have to go back. But the timing felt wrong. Shouldn't this happen years later, closer to the actual game events?
"Things are not as simple as you think. Your presence has changed things. The world ten thousand years from now is no longer the one you know. You must go back to ensure the War of the Ancients erupts as scheduled and to correct a specific error."
"Can you stop talking in riddles?" Rhodes frowned. "Correct what error? Kill someone? Stop an event?"
God, I hate riddle-mongers, Rhodes thought.
"Rhodes, cross the barrier of time. Return to Kalimdor of ten millennia past, find the source of the disturbance, and fix the deviation. Ensure the war leads to the 'now' we currently inhabit—a 'now' that still has hope. This is a request from the Guardian of Time, and a mission for the survival of Azeroth. You must leave... now."
Before Rhodes could argue, he was enveloped in a blinding golden light. After a nauseating sensation of spinning, he felt himself plummeting through the sky at terminal velocity!