The Old Man in Yellow, Shed Your Disguise, Your Naked Truth

What Was a Soul's Reflection Like?

As Terra held a grand celebration for Corvas Corax's return, at the same moment every Legion welcomed back its Primarch, the fleet of the XIX Legion's former Legion Master, Alkahas Phall, sailed out of orbit.

Alkahas stood on the observation deck, gazing deeply at his homeworld.

"Give the order. Plot a course. Destination: Naktis." A trace of gloom still lingered in his black eyes; the shame of being the first exiled Astartes Legion Master still troubled him, but mingled with it was hope for the future.

"Repaint all armor, vehicles, and warships according to the new livery I designated."

At the same moment, in the Fourth Layer Space of the "Kingdom of Disorder," Nimrod stared at the black glass spinning in his palm.

It seemed like molten obsidian, then solidified into crystal rock.

This molten crystal had partially congealed into a flowing shape, as if it had been ablated by unimaginable heat.

"The Old Man in Yellow, thank you for still entrusting the Void Glass to Alkahas." Nimrod gently rubbed the base of the Void Glass and spoke his thanks.

It was bitterly cold to the touch, like polar ice sinking into the soul.

There was only a mass of pitch-blackness within the black glass. Looking straight at it was like staring into the endless darkness of the cosmos.

The void within the Void Glass spread and extended on a level beyond physics, containing every star and planet in the universe, every human and xenos. It was the primal convergence of all beings in the real universe and the Warp.

His gaze deepened, and in his mind flashed the scene ten thousand years later, when Tangatan Manu, Chaplain of the "Space Sharks," suffered a xenos attack and lost it.

Manu embarked on a search