You were a useful puppet for a time, he thought of Sintharia. You were so easily drawn here, to this of all places, and made eager to fulfill a dream you thought your own! Envy and hatred made you my greatest tool, yes...and from your mistakes, I now know better what to do....

Deathwing laughed, the only mourning he would do for his former mate. She had been manipulated well, even in dealing with the damnable Korialstrasz, with whom there would yet be a reckoning.

Dismissing his ancient adversary, the mad Earth-Warder eagerly toyed with one of the eggs. Dargonax had been a flawed but quite interesting creation. Deathwing's consort had chosen an interesting path with her experiments. However, he understood where Sintharia had gone wrong. His twilight dragons—so appropriate a name, he thought and thanked the voices he had heard echo it to him—would be perfect. They would be him.

And since everyone assumed the Earth-Warder dead, Deathwing had all the time in the world in which to "hatch" his grand design... all the time he would need to erase the blunders of his children and his mate and ensure that no one, not even—not even Korialstrasz— would understand what was happening until it was far, far too late.

The day of the dragon is over. Deathwing thought to himself with anticipation for the imminent future. Its night is almost upon Azeroth...and after that night has swept away the old flights... there shall come a new dawn...

The dawn of my new world...