The King of Huskies—no, the Wolf King Leman Russ—erupted in fury. Magnus returning as an undercover? He could tolerate that.
At worst, he'd challenge Magnus later to settle the score. Among Fenrisians, a brawl between brothers is normal and even strengthens bonds.
But Horus? What was that about? How could he return? How could he be cleansed?
"Calm down, Russ! Horus was framed by Chaos, he—" Guilliman tried to soothe the bloodmad Wolf King, but Russ cut him off.
"Don't feed me that crap. I don't want to hear it. He's a traitor—the traitor-in-chief who sparked the Heresy!
He put Father on the Golden Throne. Even if Father loves him, he can't forgive him. It's unfair to all of us!
I'm going to Father. Don't stop me."
Guilliman sighed and raised another ward, trapping Russ again. He couldn't be allowed to disturb Father now.
"Calm down and listen, Leman Russ. Right now you can't go anywhere or do anything except hear me out.
If you won't, I'll help you calm down—by locking you up for a few years," Guilliman said, genuinely angry.
This volatile wild wolf—people say you're a civilized man in a beast's skin while Lion is a beast in a civilized man's skin.
Look at your actions.
Father just told you he's doing something crucial for humanity's survival—and you'd bother him over this.
"Horus was the first Primarch to die. When he was carried into that temple, when that Warp-cursed dagger struck him,
his soul died. Chaos and a remnant of his memories were piloting his body. Otherwise, he wouldn't have marched alone on Terra.
If he and you had chosen to grind down the Imperium slowly, the result would have been terrifying.
Father was bound to the Throne—unable to move across the galaxy. Who could stop Horus?
Me? You? Sanguinius? He would have crushed us one by one. You know his strategic genius.
With the Warp at his back, he could have devoured the Imperium in decades, then besieged Terra. Father would have lost.
But with a final ember of loyalty, Horus chose Terra and accepted Father's judgment—dying in that duel," Guilliman said.
Even the Five Hundred Worlds' ice-bound defenses were nothing if Horus had set his mind to kill Guilliman first—bring the traitor Primarchs, press the attack, and the wall would crack.
All Primarchs knew Horus's prowess.
Had he ground forward, with Father on the Throne, there was almost no hope. Framing Magnus was step one of his plan.
"Are you saying Sanguinius died for nothing? Ferrus Manus died for nothing? So many of our gene-sons died for nothing?" Russ raged.
"Sacrifice is the Imperium's foundation. Read our last ten millennia—you'll see the scope of humanity's sacrifice.
The Heresy struck us hard. But what will you do now?
Kill Horus? Plunge the Imperium into worse peril? Start a Leman Russ Heresy?" Guilliman shot back.
"I am the most loyal of Primarchs. I will never betray Father."
"Then Father just explained things to you—and now you'd question him at the most critical moment?
Tell me, Leman Russ: do you still swear fealty to the Imperium and the Emperor?
If not, I will execute you now," Guilliman said, unleashing his full psychic aura. The cosmic beast's presence pressed Russ to breathlessness.
After their upgrades, the Primarchs' power was unfathomable to their old selves—the gap like Custodian versus baseline Primarch.
"And Sanguinius is resurrected. He and Horus have reconciled and fight side-by-side in the shadow war. Who exactly will you avenge?" Guilliman added.
Russ ground his teeth, then sighed and sat silently in the ward.
"Don't play mute. Be a man, Leman Russ!
Stand up—now. The Imperium needs your strength. Your Space Wolves need you," Guilliman said.
"I understand," Russ growled.
No matter how unwilling to accept it—no matter his distaste for Horus—he had to accept.
He had really spent ten thousand years there, missing too much. Even his strength had plummeted, left in Guilliman's dust.
Once he'd dismissed Guilliman like Rogal Dorn—weakest at single combat among Primarchs.
Now Guilliman bound him in one move, suppressed him without lifting a finger.
The gap was hard to accept—and made him curious. How had Guilliman grown so strong?
"I know what you're thinking, Russ. Don't worry—you'll gain this power too. As long as you're loyal to the Imperium and the Emperor, you'll have it.
Rhodes already prepared a fitting cosmic beast for you," Guilliman said, seeing through him at a glance.
"Your strength rose because of these 'cosmic beasts,' right?" Russ asked.
"Not exactly as you think. Cosmic beasts are wondrous lifeforms—even ordinary humans who fuse with them can reach Primarch-level," Guilliman explained in detail.
It had become standard for Primarchs. Rhodes even had Astartes fused with cosmic beasts.
Rhodes smiled and released Wolf Gas. This kaiju had been enhanced to the limit and redeemed long ago.
Wolf Gas, a wolf-shaped monster: 53 meters tall, 42,000 tons—now enhanced to 50,000 tons and 62 meters.
As a cosmic-beast fusion, he became a crimson wild wolf with powerful fire attributes.
On icebound Fenris, fire control would be… interesting.
"Don't resist, Leman Russ. Let my cosmic beast merge with you—he'll be your loyal partner," Rhodes said.
Leman Russ nodded, relaxed, and let the crimson giant wolf enter his body.
A wolf-shaped beast—this new brother was thoughtful, giving him a perfect match.
As Wolf Gas fused with him, Russ's body shuddered and began a new evolution; his psychic talent fully unlocked.
Bones cracked like gunfire; crimson flames burst from his pores.
Wolf Gas—this otherworldly cosmic beast—howled in his genes. Every muscle tore and reknit; every drop of blood boiled.
"AAAH—!" His scream became a sky-splitting howl.
He swelled; his armor melted and reforged in the flames. Guilliman stepped back, shielding himself from the heat.
Rhodes stood firm, eyes gleaming. "He's adapting faster than you lot did. Wolf Gas's power is locking in."
Guilliman nodded. A wolf-beast truly suited Russ—fire matched his temper.
In the flames, a sixty-meter giant silhouette took shape.
Russ's new form was more primal than Guilliman's enlargement—his helm fused into a true wolf's head; nails lengthened to glinting claws; a burning tail sprouted.
When the fusion finished, the giant Russ was awe-inspiring.
He felt his newfound might—unparalleled power.
He could command flame freely; his body was multiplied many times over; his psychic talent, his God-Soul, completely unleashed.
He couldn't believe the strength—so perfect.
As the fire receded, the reborn Russ looked down at his terrifying claws. Power—pure, barbaric power—surged in his veins.
He felt he could tear a Titan barehanded, bite through a cruiser's armor, and stride the void with psychic force.
Alone, he could board a warship and paint it red.
"Awooo!"
His howl rang across Terra's orbit, shattering the palace's armored glass.
His body swelled again in flame; crimson fur covered him; he became a hundred-meter flaming dire-wolf.
Those burning eyes swept the hall—Rhodes and Guilliman involuntarily took half a step back.
Fused, the Wolf King's power was fully liberated. He was stronger than ever.
Russ tried shrinking, returning to a normal Primarch size.
"Guilliman, let's fight again. I think I can punch through your shield now," he grinned.
After gaining power, he couldn't wait to duel. Being beaten by the "weakest" Primarch gnawed at him.
"Let's not. I've been synced with my beast for decades. My strength is beyond your imagination.
You should reunite with your gene-sons. They've waited for their father for ten thousand years," Guilliman said.
He had no desire to spar. Win or lose, it'd be awkward.
"Your pack awaits you. One little wolf has waited a full ten thousand years and is now the oldest of the pack.
To see you again, he entered a Dreadnought ten millennia ago and wakes only once every thousand years," Rhodes said.
If Rhodes hadn't rebuilt him as a super-beast, Bjorn would still be entombed.
Russ nodded. He didn't challenge Guilliman again, but led his Wolves to the palace halls where Bjorn had long waited.
When Russ left Fenris, Bjorn was the youngest wolf, entrusted with the Chapter Master's mantle. For Russ, less than 200 years had passed; for Bjorn, ten thousand.
My wolf pups—your wolf-father is back.
"Gotta say, Guilliman, you handled Russ well," Rhodes said after Russ departed.
It's no small feat to shut the Wolf King up with words.
"Haha, I am the smartest of the Primarchs, after all."