In the darkness, Argel Tal felt dazed.
He felt as though he were floating in boundless darkness, with no up or down, no left or right, no sound, and no warmth.
Only a hollow sense of nothingness enveloped him, leaving him unable to tell whether he was awake or dreaming, alive or already dead.
Then a sliver of golden light appeared at the edge of his vision.
At first, it was faint, like the first ray of dawn on a distant horizon.
But as he drew closer, the light grew brighter, warmer, and vaster.
It seemed to call to him, to guide him, drawing him toward it despite himself.
The moment he passed through that veil of light, the sight before him left him stunned.
He found himself entering a golden hall.
Its vaulted ceiling soared into the clouds, with no end in sight. Its walls were formed from pure Golden Light, radiating a warm, sacred glow.
The floor resembled still water, reflecting the light above, yet it was firm and level beneath his feet.
Tens of thousands of Word Bearers warriors sat quietly within the hall.
There were many among them whose names Argel Tal did not even know.
Their faces were unfamiliar and distant, yet their presence stirred an inexplicable sense of kinship in him.
More astonishing still, many wore armor patterns from the early days of the Great Crusade, equipment that had witnessed the Word Bearers' first glories.
"This place is..." Argel Tal's voice rang through the hall, dazed and uncertain.
As his voice faded, every warrior in the hall stopped what he was doing, turned, and looked at Argel Tal.
There was no hostility in their gazes, no scrutiny, only gentle acceptance and curiosity, as though he were family.
"Another new brother?" asked a warrior seated