NOTICE! I have posted a note for all readers. Have fun!.
John Lancer, your normal teenage gamer, gets a gigantic metaphorical paddling when he gets transferred from his room to the body of an Annihilan aka Pit Lord, and struggles to adapt to his une...
"Ok, this has got to be a joke. If I am in Azeroth, then why am I in this ginormous body?? Damn, I'm as big as a goddamn house!" He said to himself
Sigh. "Anyhow, I gotta get used to this for now. I'm not gonna waddle like Barney the Purple Dinosaur! And to be honest, it's kinda weird having four legs."
Testing his new pairs of legs, he tried to move them one by one. Somehow, it didn't feel difficult to him.
"One, two, three, four... oh. Not so bad. And these wings are pretty useless for flying, but I wanna see if I can shield myself with them. Saw that part when Mannoroth blocked Thrall's hammer in Reign of Chaos."
"But, still! I feel too damn slow! Never gonna get used to feeling like a slow-ass elephant! Ugh! Wait, what if I train to gallop like a horse? Maybe that'll help."
He saw an open field near the forest, and decided to practice his mobility there, as being slow in this world can mean death. He tried to gallop like a horse, and tried to get used to the rhythm. Strangely, it felt fun for him. Gym class seems to have paid off.
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But, what didn't escape his attention is that there were whispers in the woods. This rang an alarm in his head, for it was sorely familiar.
"Night Elves. Great. Let 'em bring down the cavalry here, huh? Gotta haul ass."
When he said Night Elves, that made the bell in his mind ring louder.
"SHIT! That means I'm in Northern Kalimdor! I'm really going to be dead meat! Don't wanna bring Malfurion to me, along with his tree-hugging ass. With Tyrande, I might be able to talk her out. Still, not gonna take a chance."
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"But, I wonder. What timeline am I in? If it is before World of Warcraft, then I might meet Archimonde here. Kay, don't want that. Fuck! No time to think here!" He said in alarm
He galloped as fast as he can across the grassy field towards an area with ruins, and hoped that he could at least elude his spies for even a little while.
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Then, fate took a shit and hit the fan. He recognized the place. It was the Ruins of Lar'donir. And that meant that he was in the Verdant Thicket of Mount Hyjal. That spelled trouble, for the Night Elves were active around the area, as he was close to the World Tree.
"What the fuck am I going to do??!!!" He said in desperation
"Why do I see a dragon? Is that Alysra?! Holy hell! It means that I'm in the Cataclysm timeline! Why did it have to be Deathwing's timeline?!"
Angered by the events, he took it to himself to blame whatever deity that basically acted like God in this universe, and did the blame in the form of a middle finger.
"Fuck you, whoever you are up there! Fuckity-fuck-fuck!" He raised his middle finger while looking up the sky.
I'm still sticking with the double-chapter release policy. I am still setting up his timeline. I know that I just released the first two chapters a few hours ago. I'm milking the hell out of my brain for this story when it gets an idea. Comment below for more ideas. Thank you.
