As the foundational defenses were secured, a steady stream of Reaver-Eviscerators began to roll off the production line.
This gargantuan landmass, buried deep within the Warp, was shrouded in such intense psychic interference that the Titan fleet could barely glean actionable intelligence; they could not even discern the boundaries of the terrain. The Reaver-Eviscerators faced the same crippling limitations. The interference did not merely stem from the external psychic barrier, but from the forest-covered landmass itself. Here, only optical sensors and thermal imaging functioned; energy detection, multi-spectral scanning, and other complex diagnostic tools were rendered useless. Fortunately, the barrier did not impede quantum communication.
The origins of this forest were unknown, as was its true scale. Even within the memory fragments of Magnus, there existed only a single designation, Locus Oris, culled from the Great Library of Tzeentch. Any further details regarding this Warp-touched woodland had been meticulously expunged.
To maximize search efficiency, the Standard Template Construct line operated at peak capacity until all scavenged metal reserves were depleted. As more mechanical units ventured into the depths of the forest, shadowed by colossal trees, the two lead Reaver-Eviscerators made a discovery roughly a hundred kilometers from the edge.
Nestled between the gargantuan boles, a fractured warship hull lay prone, cradled by the canopy of thousands of alien trees. The immense weight of the wreckage was supported with effortless ease by the bizarre arboreal structures. Alien trunks were actively grafting themselves into the hull, as if to incorporate the wreckage into the forest's own biology. The hull's surface was a map of stress fractures and craters, with sparks and acrid, unnatural smoke still venting from damaged sections. The paint was faded, yet the iconic sigil of the Space Wolves remained faintly visible.
A pungent, stinging odor permeated the air, a vile amalgamation of scorched metal and the cloying, raw stench of biological rot. As the atmospheric analyzers cycled, Axion arrived at a grim conclusion: this wreck had been repurposed as a nest.
The Reaver-Eviscerators dampened their active camouflage and crept toward the carcass. Their thermal sensors immediately detected a dense cluster of active heat signatures within. Just as they prepared to breach the hull, a deafening, discordant howl erupted from within the ship.
Moments later, swarms of lupine-humanoid horrors surged from the ruptured airlocks. These were wolves more massive and savage than any xenos encountered thus far. They were clad in Power Armour emblazoned with the Space Wolf iconography, yet the plating was stretched and mangled, clearly failing to contain the mutations within. The armour was stained in filth, its joints bursting under the strain of bodies that had grown too large. Through the gaps in the plating, patches of gray-white fur were visible, crackling with flickers of ghostly blue electricity. Their facial structures had long since dissolved into bestial muzzles; their helmets were absent, discarded long ago.
Their eyes, burning with a predatory, infernal light, raked the area, measuring the constructs as prey. Some wielded immense Power Axes etched with ancient storm-runes that pulsed with a baleful, arcane glow; others brandished Lightning Claws that hissed with arcs of warp-tainted lightning.
The wolves lifted their heads, sniffing the air as if catching a scent. Guided by the heightened instincts of a predator, they sensed the hidden machines.
"Awooooo!"
With a howl that shook the very ground, these warriors, twisted by a complete, feral saturation of the Canis Helix, launched an assault against the cloaked Reaver-Eviscerators.
"ROAR!"
They surged in waves, low, rumbling growls vibrating through the air. One pack leaped with supernatural agility, pouncing at the 'empty' air, their Lightning Claws trailing arcs of lethal ozone. Another wave followed, swinging their power-axes with the devastating, thunderous force of a falling mountain.
Axion, unwilling to terminate these anomalous subjects immediately, retracted the Reaver-Eviscerators' stealth fields and closed ranks. While the forest's anti-gravity suppression was effective, it did not nullify inherent mass.
Invisible arcs of force erupted from the grav-regulators as the two machines synchronized their fields. An annular zone of gravitational anomaly manifested around them. Though the wolf-touched Astartes were blindingly fast, the sudden, violent spike in localized gravity crushed them to the deck.
Axion had long since stress-tested the limits of the Adeptus Astartes using the catalyzed psychic-warriors of previous skirmishes. A standard Astartes, fully armoured, weighed nearly a metric ton. By spiking the local gravity to 6.83 times the standard, the physical integrity of these warriors began to overload.
Under the crushing weight, the agile hunters collapsed, one by one. Those who had leaped with Lightning Claws flailing crashed to the earth with catastrophic impact.
As all hostile movement ceased, other Reaver-Eviscerators approached, carrying Sapient Machine Automata to the site. Under normal circumstances, the massive Reavers would resolve such encounters by total molecular deconstruction. But these frenzied wolves might be the very warriors Leman Russ had brought with him. Axion had to proceed with caution; until the nature of this corruption was clear, they were to be treated as potentially recoverable, albeit compromised, allies.
The small, nimble Sapient Machine Automata ignored the gravity-well, their chassis flexing slightly but suffering no critical structural failure. As probes were inserted into the bodies of the fallen warriors, their genetic maps and physiological states were mapped in real-time.
Axion possessed extensive data on the Space Wolves, a legacy of the Inquisition's secret investigations following the incident on the Months of Shame. The genetic signatures of the Canis Helix and its transformative effects were no secret. Yet, these wolf-Astartes defied all Imperial records.
Typically, those fully consumed by the Canis Helix underwent massive, chaotic mutations, losing all semblance of humanity and descending into mindless, blood-maddened beasts. But these specimens represented a terrifying, perfect fusion. It was a synthesis of conflicting gene-strains, forced together into a bizarre, chimeric integrity. The transformation appeared to be instantaneous, with all genetic sequences mutating in a simultaneous cascade.
Moreover, Axion detected an unmistakable presence within the tangled genetic soup: the gene-signature of Leman Russ himself. This data, cross-referenced from the work of Fabius Bile, showed that the Primarch's sequences maintained a stubborn, functional independence within the chaotic bloodlines of his sons.
This was the secret behind their survival, the core of the Primarch's legacy, holding their form together even as the beast consumed them. On Fenris, the legends of a World Spirit and the Ancestors were not merely superstition; that information seemed to be written into the very genetic code of the Fenrisian people. The blue sparks of energy dancing across their fur were not accidental, they were the manifestation of an ancient, mysterious, and inherent power of the planet itself.
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