Curious to hear more of the old man's story on Yawgmoth, you find yourself heading for his study only a few short days after your last visit.  Though the days have begun getting shorter, you are able to catch fleeting glimpses of a fireworks display of light from the setting sun as you walk through the passageways.  Reds and oranges flare out from behind the shadowecavesd treetops, a final burst before darkness descends.

Opening the wooden door you find Issar Roon in his usual seat, multiple books laid open before him.  He talks without turning.

I see you have returned for the rest of my story.  I suppose I can satisfy your need despite the short time since your last visit.  I've been progressing well recently in my studies, and have time to take a few breaks.

Taking this as the start of his story you make yourself comfortable on the floor, legs spread out before you.

Where exactly did I finish my tale upon our last meeting?  Oh yes, Yawgmoth was given his “paradise” by the planeswalker Dyfed.  This was the final act that led to the physical creation of Phyrexia.  Once removed from prying eyes and suspicious minds Yawgmoth began to experiment freely, and set about improving the human body toward his ideal vision.

At first, Yawgmoth kept his new world a secret from those on Dominaria.  He continued to research phthisis and act as Rebbec wished, but made constant trips to view his new obsession.

With Dyfed's help a portal to this new world was created within the Caves of the Damned.  Already the location of his phthisis research no one would discover the portal but those too debilitated to notice or those most trusted by Yawgmoth.  Indeed, the location was ideal, allowing him to transport his “patients” to the new world of Phyrexia for additional modifications.  To prevent anyone tampering with the portal Yawgmoth himself hid the two halves of the portal's powerstone within the body of Glacian.

Things never go according to plan, however.  Even for the vile members of the Multiverse.

You are happy to hear the old man call Yawgmoth evil.  He may be a grumpy old man, but at least he can still recognize who should be disliked within his own stories.

As Yawgmoth's experiments and modifications in the new world grew, his power on Dominaria was threatened by his past.  The nations and cultures he had terrorized and destroyed with his “experiments” while exiled had found him, and they wanted justice.  When the majority of Thran's ruling elite refused to throw Yawgmoth into the jaws of the waiting alliance, they attacked the Thran Empire.  Thus began the Thran Civil War.

The war was Yawgmoth's first chance to test his new creations which he called Phyrexians.  They did not disappoint.  The previously diseased Thrans that Yawgmoth had mutated fought unopposed.  Though the war did not end how Yawgmoth wished, he had proven to himself that his experiments were a success, and pushed harder to improve his creations.

I believe I mentioned the end of the Thran Civil War previously.  Perhaps you remember my story of the Null Moon?

You don't remember the details, but nod your head like a good student.  It's always hard to see his thoughts, but the old man seems fooled.  Perhaps he was just too engrossed in his own story.

The war ended, but neither side had truly won.  The Thran, along with many other civilizations across Dominaria were ruined, and slowly disappeared into the pages of history.  Yawgmoth and his Phyrexians did not disappear like the Thran, but were exiled from Dominaria by Rebbec.

During the final battle of the war, Rebbec discovered Yawgmoth's full treachery and the halves of the powerstone within her husband's body.  Determined to rid Dominaria of the mad eugenic, Rebbec unified the powerstone halves and sealed the portal between Dominaria and Phyrexia.  For thousands of years the portal lay dormant, keeping Yawgmoth from the one thing he wanted most.  Silent, it remained hidden until two brothers of artifice disturbed the Thran ruins.

Cut off from the world he truly wished to rule, Yawgmoth was content with his new world for the time being.  He bound himself to the plane he called Phyrexia, and became its god.  In a way he became Phyrexia itself, creating new experiments and ever working toward perfecting his creations.  Phyrexia became a machine of living tissue, never tiring and never resting from its work.  Indeed, most Phyrexians became an amalgamation of flesh and machine.

The old man’s voice becomes slower and quieter.  You can tell that today’s story is drawing to a close.

Though Yawgmoth never ended his search for a way to return to Dominaria, he continued to spread his ideals and corruption across the Multiverse.  Even as Phyrexian sleeper agents attempted to thwart Urza's plans, others were infiltrating new worlds and ripening them for infection.  Phyrexia built its forces, and waited like a cat in the shadows, ready to pounce the instant its prey turned its back.

That, my young student, is how Yawgmoth created Phyrexia, and one of the greatest threats to the Multiverse began its infection of many worlds.  Perhaps I will tell you more details in the future, but not today, nor upon your next visit.  There is no need to scare you beyond hope.

The old man’s voice carries a somber tone.  You wonder why he always seems to take his stories so seriously.  They’re just tales in books, written by long-dead authors.

Goodbye young one.

The old man turns his eyes back to the pages of his dusty books.  A bony finger follows the lines of a page, your presence long forgotten.

This is a work of fiction based on the stories and entries provided by Wizards about some of the early characters. The author takes some liberty with the story for dramatic purposes. So the story portrayed here may not be the exact story according to Magic Canon. The author has found references and art to use in the following locations: Encyclopedia Phyrexianna and the MTG Salvation Wiki. Written by Brendan Weiskotten.