While Lorgar and Turing held a difficult, exhausting conversation mingling technical debate with family ethics in Novalors's eternally tranquil park, the Law of Faith in Orbit was shrouded in an atmosphere of solemn vigilance.
First Company Captain Rockefeller stood on the Bridge, his steady gaze sweeping across the void beyond the main observation window and the planet farther away, radiating its strange silver light.
He had just finished processing a round of routine patrol reports. Apart from regular status updates from the ships, there was nothing unusual on the channels.
Yet that peace did not last long.
At the edge of the Bridge, the Cogitator screen monitoring the long-range sensor array suddenly flickered violently, and glaring red triangular warning symbols flashed up one after another.
Then, beyond the vast observation window, the void roughly half an astronomical unit from the Combined Fleet's formation began to seethe without warning.
The fabric of reality was brutally torn apart. Wild Warp colors and blasphemous geometries erupted like a festering wound, only to be forcibly smoothed over by some mighty power.
In their wake came a vast fleet, breaking free of the immaterial realm's bonds and brazenly forcing its way into realspace.
Their hulls were painted a deep silver-gray, accented with simple silver lines and intricate binary runes. Their angular designs carried a cold, hard, utilitarian aesthetic.
Most striking of all were the enormous emblems painted on their prows and flanks: an abstract human brain encircled by gears, data streams, and lightning. The insignia of the Eleventh Legion, the Spear of Logic.
It was a sizable force, at least the full complement of a crusading Task Force.
"Mass Warp emergence detected! Identification codes... verifying... it's the Eleventh Legion's Spear of Logic fleet! Flagship identification... the Logical Dominion!" The sensor officer's report rang out across