It's a grisly sight, more of that black water slipping from the figures mouth like blood, staining the ends of fair-blond hair as it reaches, reaches out to try to take hold of Wrathion's face in its cold, clammy grip.

You'll...betray everyone...in the end...

But any further words are lost in a wet gurgle as Anduin places a hand to the figure's frame, closing his eyes. Light shimmers beneath the surface as the other Anduin begins to lose its shape, melting away into nothing but more dark water, spilling away from Wrathion's blade and sloshing across the tiles. And their feet in the process.

Anduin's immediate focus, however, is not the creature. Instead he looks to Wrathion, who looks...shaken. In a way he's never really seen before.

"Are you alright?" The question spills out before he can realize that of course he won't get a real answer.