Before life began, even before the cosmos took shape, there was Light… and there was the Void. Unbound by the limits of time and space, the Light radiated across all existence in the form of an infinite prismatic ocean. Torrents of life energy surged through its shimmering depths, their movements stirring a symphony of joy and indescribable hope.
This ocean of Light was dynamic, ever-changing and evolving. Yet as it expanded, portions of its energy began to fade and dim, leaving behind cold, silent pockets of emptiness. From the absence of Light in these spaces, a new force coalesced and emerged—not as a creation, but as a denial of creation itself.
This force was the Void—a dark, vampiric entity driven to consume all energy, to invert creation into itself and devour every form of existence. The Void grew rapidly, spreading its influence like poison seeping into the fabric of reality, moving against the endless waves of flowing Light. The rising tension between these opposing yet inseparable energies eventually triggered a series of cataclysmic explosions, shattering the weave of creation and giving birth to realms never before known.
It was then that the physical universe was born.
The energy unleashed by the collision of Light and Void raged across the newborn cosmos. Raw matter fused and spun in vortices of chaos, forming countless primordial worlds. Over vast and immeasurable spans of time, this ever-expanding universe—the Great Dark Beyond—was scorched in whirlwinds of fire, magic, and latent conflict between the two ancient forces.
The most unstable energy, which could not be contained by physical structures, merged into an astral dimension known as the Twisting Nether.
Light and Void clashed and bled at the edges of this realm, making it volatile and unpredictable. Though indirectly connected to the Great Dark Beyond, the Twisting Nether lay beyond the boundaries of the physical universe. Yet its volatile energy would sometimes tear through the veil of the Great Dark, flooding reality with chaos and warping creation in unforeseen directions.
The violent birth of the cosmos also scattered shards of Light across reality. These fragments seeped into matter on various worlds, sowing sparks of life and spawning beings of astonishing and terrifying diversity.
The most common forms of life to emerge were elemental spirits—ancient beings composed of fire, water, earth, and air. These entities were native to nearly every physical world, and many reveled in the chaos of early creation, making it a playground for their wild and untamed powers.
Occasionally, broken clouds of Light would gather and form beings of far greater power, with potential beyond the limits of elemental creatures. Among them were the naaru, benevolent entities composed of radiant light and pure holy energy.
When the naaru gazed across the immeasurable universe, they saw a vast expanse of possibility. They vowed to use their mastery of holy magic to spread hope and nurture life wherever they could find it, becoming guardians of a still-fragile creation.
Yet even more extraordinary than the naaru were the colossal titans. Their spirits—known as world-souls—formed deep within the fiery cores of a select few worlds chosen by fate. For centuries, these nascent titans slept, their energy seeping into the celestial bodies they inhabited, laying the foundation for worlds that would one day flourish.
When the Titans finally awakened, they awoke as living worlds. Cosmic winds roared across their massive forms, their bodies cloaked in stardust, their skin adorned with silver mountain peaks, and their oceans shimmering with untouched latent magic.
With eyes glowing like brilliant stars, they observed the young cosmos, mesmerized by its mysteries. While the naaru set out to protect life, the Titans embarked on a different journey. They explored the farthest corners of the Great Dark, seeking others of their kind, hoping to find siblings in creation.
This vast and far-reaching voyage would one day alter the course of creation and shape the destiny of all living things.
But now, a Creator God has arrived from another universe—alongside his angels known as the Ainur. They hail from the Tolkien universe, and have now entered the world of Warcraft.
Eru Ilúvatar, the Supreme Creator of Tolkien's realm, crossed the boundaries of reality and arrived in the Warcraft cosmos. In his grasp, he carried another sleeping world-soul—a primordial entity that would one day grow into a world tree on the planet Azeroth. A seed containing a new destiny, uniting two universes into a single thread of creation never before imagined.
---
Eru Ilúvatar had heard the suffering of this universe from a soul that had once spoken to him. That soul, which had touched the Light and witnessed the Void, conveyed to him the sorrow of living in a world filled with turmoil, conflict, and destruction. Yet Ilúvatar still hoped that the soul might one day help as many beings as possible who dwell in that world, becoming a guide amid the chaos.
So Ilúvatar summoned the Ainur, his great angels, and spoke to them. He proposed new musical themes—not for Arda, but for another universe they had never touched: the universe of Warcraft.
And it came to pass that Ilúvatar announced to them a grand theme, one that unfolded things far broader and more wondrous than any he had revealed before. Its beginning and its end were so magnificent that the Ainur were astonished, and they bowed before Ilúvatar in silence.
Then Ilúvatar said to them, "Concerning the theme I have declared to you, now I wish for you to perform the Great Music in harmony. And because I have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, you shall show your power in adorning this theme, each with their own thought and design, if they will. But I shall sit and listen, and rejoice that through you, great beauty has been awakened into song."
Then the voices of the Ainur rose, like harps and lyres, pipes and trumpets, violins and organs, and like choirs beyond counting singing with words. They began to shape Ilúvatar's theme into a mighty music; and melodies arose, endlessly interwoven, bound in harmony that transcended hearing, piercing depth and height, so that the entire Warcraft universe heard the song. The sound was so full it overflowed, and the music and its echoes spilled into the Void—and it was Void no longer.
From that moment, the Ainur never again made music like this outside the Tolkien world, though it is said that something even greater will be made before Ilúvatar by the choir of the Ainur and the Children of the world tree Silmalorë.
Ilúvatar sat and listened, and for a time he was pleased, for in the music there was no lack for the Warcraft universe, especially the planet Azeroth.
When Ilúvatar stood, he began to reveal the future shaped by the musical theme. When the vision of this World was displayed before them, the Ainur saw that the vision contained things they had not expected. They watched in awe the arrival of the Children of the world tree Silmalorë, and the dwelling that had been prepared for them.
The Children of the world tree Silmalorë were conceived by Ilúvatar himself; they came with the third theme, and were not part of the themes Ilúvatar had declared at the beginning. Not one of the Ainur was involved in their making. Therefore, when they saw them, they loved them all the more, for they were things other than themselves, strange and free, in which they saw Ilúvatar's thought reflected back, and learned a little more of his wisdom, which had until then been hidden even from the Ainur.
Now, the Children of the world tree Silmalorë are the elves and the dwemer—the Firstborn and the Youngest. Amid all the splendor of the World, its vast halls and chambers, and its spinning fires, they walk as beings who bear Light and mystery.
---
Then, alongside the Ainur, Eru began to sing the song of creation to expand the planet Azeroth—which at that time had only one continent. Through their melody, Azeroth was shaped to hold two continents: the ancient Kalimdor from its original universe, and a new land born from their harmonies—Valinor, destined to become part of the world's soul. Valinor was not merely land, but a reflection of Ilúvatar's will embedded within Azeroth's cosmic structure—a realm that would one day witness the meeting of creation's power and free will.
The song of creation echoed across every corner of the Warcraft world, heard by all beings, from the members of the Pantheon to the Void Lords. Yet no one knew the source of those sacred voices, for the universe was vast and full of mystery. The song did not come from machines, nor from known magic, nor from Titan will. It transcended their understanding, seeping into the fabric of reality and shaking the foundations they had long considered absolute.
No one knew when or why the first titan awoke, but legend says his name was Aman'Thul.
Though Aman'Thul was alone, he knew in his heart that others like him must exist. So he journeyed through the worlds of the Great Dark Beyond, determined to find more titans. His search was difficult and lonely, but he did not give up. He pierced nebulae and voids, traversed unnamed star paths, until he finally discovered other world-souls. Aman'Thul lovingly nurtured these new kin and awakened them from a long slumber of unknown origin. Those who awoke devoted themselves to his noble quest, and together they formed a new order.
Aman'Thul and his siblings came to be known as the Pantheon. They were inherently kind, beings aligned with order and stability. The Pantheon had a natural affinity for latent magic in the universe. Fully aware of their immense power, they bound themselves to principles of restraint toward the civilizations they encountered—even toward elemental spirit societies that were unruly and often rejected harmony.
The Titan Pantheon understood that order was essential to finding others of their kind. On each world they visited, they used techniques to detect the presence of a world-soul. The Pantheon would first pacify the raging elemental populations. Then, they would reshape the world, forming towering mountains, bottomless seas, and turbulent skies. Finally, the Titans would cultivate diverse forms of life across the newly ordered world. In doing so, the Pantheon hoped to summon the world-soul and help it reach maturity. But most of the time, the worlds they visited proved dormant, lacking souls, mere empty vessels awaiting the will of creation.
The Pantheon vowed to nurture and protect all these worlds, even those without sleeping spirits. To do so, they empowered primitive lifeforms to safeguard the integrity of their ordered worlds. The Pantheon also embedded colossal machines into the surface of each world they visited—gigantic structures that served as regulators and overseers of evolution.
Through these devices, the Titans could monitor their worlds and purge life if evolutionary paths became corrupted. This purification protocol was not carried out lightly, but only if the world showed signs of irreparable corruption.
To aid the Pantheon, Aman'Thul summoned a mysterious race known as the constellar. These celestial beings observed the various worlds governed by the Titans, always vigilant for signs of instability. If needed, the constellar could initiate safe procedures to explore a world's life in hopes of resetting its evolutionary process. They possessed no free will, but were fully bound to the algorithm of Aman'Thul's will.
Over centuries, the Pantheon found fewer and fewer world-souls. Yet they remained undaunted. They knew the universe was immeasurably vast, and even after centuries of star-bound exploration, they had only reached a fraction of creation. They believed that world-souls yet to awaken still waited, hidden behind the mists of time and unrealized will.
Unbeknownst to the Titans, dark forces were also at work in the far reaches of the Great Dark. The Void Lords, entities born of pure emptiness, began crafting strategies to corrupt world-souls before the Titans could find them. They did not create—they infected. They did not shape—they twisted. And they waited, patient and cunning.
Aman'Thul, Highfather of the Pantheon
Sargeras, Defender of the Pantheon
Aggramar, Great Lieutenant of Sargeras
Eonar, the Life-Binder
Khaz'goroth, the Shaper and Forger
Norgannon, Keeper of Celestial Magic and Lore
Golganneth, Lord of Sky and Roaring Seas
Somewhere hidden within the world of Warcraft, the members of the Pantheon gathered after their victory over the demons. Unexpectedly, a foreign song echoed across Warcraft—a voice they had never heard before. The song had no traceable source and was not recorded in Norgannon's archives.
They discussed the origin of the song, trying to understand its meaning.
"My brother Aman'Thul, who do you think owns that singing voice?" asked Norgannon seriously.
"I don't know either. This song isn't recorded in the cosmic knowledge we usually study," replied Aman'Thul, gazing at the sky trembling with its echoes.
"Why don't you try peering into the future to find out, brother?" suggested Sargeras, his tone sharp but filled with curiosity.
Aman'Thul attempted to glimpse the future, searching for clues unlike any he'd seen before. But all he saw were blurred and fragmented visions—a future incomplete and confusing. The fragments didn't form a clear timeline, but collided shards of possibility.
After a while, Aman'Thul still couldn't find the source of the song, nor who was singing it.
"I'm not sure. But in those fragments, I saw a mortal creature with pointed ears using magic unfamiliar to us," Aman'Thul explained, his eyes narrowing.
"It seems that creature is creating something—something foreign to us. But we don't fully understand it yet," said Eonar, her voice gentle yet alert.
"Magic we don't recognize? That's intriguing," added Norgannon, his curiosity deepening.
"Better we kill it if we meet it, to avoid worsening the situation," Sargeras interjected firmly, his eyes flaring with cautious fire.
"Calm down. We don't yet know their purpose. Hopefully they're not enemies, and we'll soon learn what they're creating," Aman'Thul eased the tension, though he himself wasn't entirely convinced.
The discussion lasted a while before the Pantheon members returned to their duties—managing cosmic energies and maintaining the harmony of the Warcraft universe.
But within Sargeras's heart, a seed of doubt began to grow. Though not yet shaken, he started to question what they had long fought for as the wise Pantheon, protectors of the Warcraft world. And from that doubt, one day, would come a decision that changed everything.
---
From the dawn of cosmic creation, when time had no name and space no boundary, the dark spirits dwelling within the Void had sought to twist reality into a realm of eternal torment. These ancient entities, known as the Void Lords, were not beings of creation or formation, but entities that gnawed, devoured, and corrupted all forms of order. They had long observed the Pantheon, watching the Titans journey from world to world, from star to star, burning with envy toward the power and harmony possessed by the world-shapers.
Unable to create on their own, the Void Lords sought to corrupt one of the great Titans into an instrument of their will. They did not merely wish to destroy creation—they aimed to defile its source, to bend the power of creation into a tool of everlasting suffering.
To achieve this goal, the Lords of the Void struggled to manifest within the physical universe. This was not a direct act, but a slow infiltration through the cracks of reality. As they did so, their energy seeped into the structure of existence, distorting unsuspecting inhabitants of creation. Weak and unprotected lifeforms began to show signs of corruption: warped forms, madness, and moral decay. Yet the noble and virtuous Titans proved immune to this dangerous corruption. Their souls were too pure, too bound to cosmic order to be directly tainted.
Eventually, the Void Lords changed their approach. They moved to exert their influence over a Titan in its most vulnerable state: before it awakened, while its soul was still fused with the core of a world and lacked full consciousness.
But the Void Lords did not know which world contained a sleeping Titan soul. So they gathered their power and hurled dark creatures across the physical universe, hoping some would collide with a world-soul yet to awaken. Countless creations of the Void Lords shot through the Great Dark, contaminating mortal worlds and everything they touched in their blind search for a newborn Titan.
Over time, these malevolent creatures would become known as the Old Gods. They were not Void Lords, but local manifestations of the Void's will. They lacked collective awareness, but shared a singular purpose: to corrupt, dominate, and transform worlds into nests of suffering.
Though the Titans were aware of Void energy in the universe, they did not know of the Void Lords or the Old Gods. The Pantheon's attention was drawn elsewhere, toward something more urgent and more brutal: demons.
These savage beings were born from the Twisting Nether, a volatile and unstable dimension where Light and Void energies clashed and fused in eternal chaos. Shackled by uncontrollable hatred and malice, demons sought only the destruction of all life in the universe. They had no noble purpose, no cosmic vision—only a primal urge to destroy, burn, and defile.
Just as life emerged in the Great Dark Beyond, so too did it arise in the Twisting Nether. The beings born of this turbulent realm became known as demons. They formed as a result of Light and Void energies merging at the Nether's borders. These demons unleashed their burning desires and reveled in pushing the limits of their power, heedless of consequence. Many of these aberrations thrived on the wildly fluctuating energies that permeated the Nether. Some learned to wield demonic magic that consumed all. Soon, these bloodthirsty demons clawed their way into the physical universe, terrorizing mortal civilizations and bringing ruin to world after world.
Demons came in many forms. Some, like two-headed hounds of the void, roamed the trackless deserts of the Nether like wild beasts. Others, like horrific creatures from the abyss and hellspawned monstrosities, were amalgamations of matter and demonic energy, created by stronger and more cunning demons.
Among the great demons were the nathrezim, or dreadlords. Cunning and manipulative, they devoted themselves to mastering shadow magic. The nathrezim delighted in infiltrating mortal civilizations, sowing discord, and inciting conflict among nations. As these societies decayed and collapsed from within, the nathrezim would corrupt their populations, transforming innocent people into terrifying new demonic races.
The mighty annihilan, or pit lords, took a more direct approach to world conquest. These monstrous butchers existed solely to torment and torture any mortals who crossed their path. Pit lords often enslaved lesser demons lurking in the Nether, using them as bait to encircle mortal civilizations in the Great Dark Beyond.
The Pantheon soon learned of the demonic assaults raging at the edges of creation. Fearing these demons would disrupt their efforts to find and awaken other world-souls, the Titans dispatched their strongest warrior: the noble Sargeras. Without hesitation, the virtuous Titan set out, vowing never to rest until he had purged the universe of all demonic influence.
Yet the Void Lords, too, heard the song of Eru Ilúvatar and the Ainur. That voice ignited their fury, for the energy it carried was the antithesis of their nature—full of life, like an eternal enemy they could never tolerate.
Burning with wrath, they sought the source of that power to destroy it. But no matter how hard they tried, the source remained unreachable. The song did not come from dimensions they could touch, nor from structures of reality they could unravel. It came from a higher will, from a creation that did not submit to the Void.
So they contacted the dark creatures scattered across the world of Warcraft. They issued a new mission: beyond corrupting young world-souls—destined to become the next Pantheon—these creatures were also commanded to destroy the creations of the mysterious figure who had sung the sacred song.
No one knows how long the song has echoed through the Warcraft universe. Perhaps thousands, even tens of thousands of years. Yet the melody endures, never ceasing. It seeps into stone, water, and air. It shapes world-trees yet to grow, and whispers hope to beings not yet born.