Had the Space Wolves Become Nimrod's Guards?
The Law of Faith, the sanctuary for wanderers.
Lorgar Aurelian rarely appeared on the bridge, nor did he like burying himself in the Data Slate in the Primarch's office.
His command post was always located in the Prodigal Church on the ship's ridge.
This magnificent building once housed a statue of the Emperor, but after the destruction of the Perfect City, the golden statue was dismantled under pressure from the Adeptus Custodes.
After his pilgrimage, the wanderer Lorgar found his four other fathers.
Quire Vondar, the Chief Librarian "The Word Bearers," looked at the Golden Lorgar of Loka standing at the center of the eight concentric circles with a puzzled expression.
"Father, we sacrificed eight hundred loyal followers to find the location of the Xenos fortress. Why should we hand it over to Curze?"
"He's just a willful Lunatic."
"For the Blood God." Lorgar's eyes were deep.
He failed to fulfill Khorne's oracle and persuade Mortarion to embark on the Eightfold Path.
Konrad Curze is the best choice; he is cruel, bloodthirsty, and acts with terror.
This operation against Sotha presents him with his opportunity.
"The magic array you set up inside the fortress was intended to enlighten Curze?"
Lorgar smiled and nodded, "The destruction of Nimrod's Astronomican will be the moment he ascends to immortality."
He looked up, his golden eyes piercing through the ship's hull, gazing at the gleaming Astronomican standing amidst the Crimson Storm.
"Action."
"Paving the way for my brother's promotion."
"As you wish," Vondar said, bowing.
The newly painted crimson warship of the Word Bearers traversed the void like a bloodthirsty shark, the light from its thruster exhaust piercing the gray light scattered by the stars.
A piercing alarm sounded on the bridge of the Law of Faith, and Lorgar emerged from the meditation room.
He looked at Vondar, "The patrol fleet of the Shadow of Order?"
Vondar shook his head. "Space Wolves."
"The company insignia belongs to the 5th Great Company."
Lorgar frowned slightly. Leman Russ had always been at odds with Nimrod, and the two legions disliked each other.
Now, the Space Wolves have become Nimrod's guards?
"Attack!"
"Yes, sir!"
The plasma core of the Word Bearers warship pumped, and the crimson sharks swarmed toward the iron-gray enemies of faith.
The Law of Faith launched the first attack, a dazzling light soaring from the bridge, tearing through the gray clouds that shrouded the void, and piercing through an iron-gray warship.
"The first blood of the traitorous lackey of the False Emperor."
With Vondar's voice, a chain reaction tore the Space Wolves's destroyer to pieces.
Lorgar watched as the wolf pack warships' fuel tanks were engulfed in a devastating massacre, marking yet another note in his directorial melody.
He looked at the skull crown, the roar of the Blood God echoing in his ears.
Lorgar raised his head and turned his gaze back; the prelude to destruction had already attracted the Blood God's furious eyes.
A faint blue light quietly emanated from the giant eye of the bird god statue.
Lorgar was oblivious, his eyes fixed on the collapsing steel corpse of the Sons of Russ, like the burning Imperium of the False Emperor.
"Fenris Hunter, sacrifice confirmed."
With a fervent smile, Vondar reported loudly.
The Word Bearers fleet overwhelmed the wolf pack with firepower, securing the first kill on a capital ship.
The Law of Faith with frenzied speed, the heavy armor of the Gloriana-class Battleship withstanding the roar of the Wild Wolf Fleet, tearing through the wolf pack's lines.
The cannons on the side of the guns simultaneously proclaimed the voice of truth, igniting flames in the heart of the wolf pack.
The Crimson Warships followed closely behind, forming a formation centered on the Law of Faith, and unleashing a chorus of cannon fire.
Corona-like laser firepower enveloped the iron-gray warship, lashing out at the shields of the wolf pack warships.
The dense barrage of bullets cleaved through the wolf pack's lines, tearing the 5th Great Company apart.
Amrodi Skarsen Skarsen, the Wolf Lord of the 5th Great Company, stared intently at the screen, his jet-black wolf pelt secured behind his neck with a bone buckle.
A dizzying array of tactical data flashed through his mind; he had already lost more than half of his hunting party's warships.
The remaining warships were also cut up and attacked by a traitor fleet several times larger.
The Word Bearers's fleet, five times the size of their own, is about to encircle them.
He doesn't have much time left to make a decision.
Now is the last chance to evacuate.
Skarsen clenched his fists. If he could choose according to his heart, he would never want to swallow the shame and retreat without honor.
But the Wolf Prime was entrusted with a crucial task, awaiting the news he would bring back to decide the pack's future.
The oath he swore to the Wolf Prime, the trust of the winter and the warlord, were more important than a glorious death in battle.
Skarsen turned on the Communicator and closed his eyes.
He bared his jaws, revealing two rows of sharp, dagger-like teeth.
The cold, sharp fangs gnawed, and a single word escaped between them. "Retreat!"
"Yes, Wolf Lord."
The sudden burst of power from the physics engine violently twisted the ship.
Skarsen stood with his feet apart to steady himself against the sudden tilt of the bridge deck.
He suddenly opened his eyes, his iron-gray pupils staring at the holographic image through the black leather mask.
Just 380 kilometers to the right of the ship, the trembling corpse of the battlecruiser lay silent, like an island swallowed by Fenris's Apocalypse furnace.
One after another, the iron-gray runes vanished rapidly, and the lifelines of hundreds and thousands of Space Wolves snapped.
Skarsen's eyes flashed with a cold light, sweeping across the void with the ferocity of a wounded Space Wolves in the Fenris snowstorm.
He suddenly raised his hand and drew a sharply curved line on the holographic image.
The iron-gray warship rolled sideways to avoid the Crimson Light that followed.
It barely managed to stabilize its steel hull at the apex of the arc before quickly changing course, rapidly climbing, and escaping the encroaching Death Storm.
Skarsen loosened his clenched fist; his flagship had already shaken off the traitorous fleet.
His iron-gray eyes swept across the video screen, fixed on Wrath of Fenris, which was following behind him with faltering steps on his right.
"McKenna, hurry, get rid of them."
"Wolf Lord, the Void Shield on the starboard side of my ship is overloaded, and the fifth deck in the middle section is damaged."
"I will never see the Wolf Prime again, and you must return to the Wolf's Den."
Skarsen watched as the Wrath of Fenris turned, its port side facing the traitorous fleet.
Fenris's cannons unleashed their fury, slamming into the pursuing traitor warships.
The crimson tide abruptly halted, and the traitor's warships were forced to maneuver to the sides, avoiding the blazing flames.
Skarsen stared intently at the Sun igniting in the void. "McKenna, I will meet the Wolf Prime."
The iron-gray warship broke away from the crimson warship and fled alone from the Apocalypse of destruction.
Skarsen stared at the approaching Mandeville Point. "Prepare for the jump."
"Sir, we have detected Warp signal; a warship is entering the real world."
[Ambush?]
Should I break my oath to the Wolf Prime?
"Lance, prepare!"
If he must betray the Wolf Prime's trust, then he will sink the enemy's warships before his soul returns to Fenris's Underworld.
Skarsen stared intently at the warship that was taking shape in the void, like a hunter.
There is only one.
The paint job isn't scarlet, but rather the midnight blue of the Night Lords.
"Wolf Lord, enemy ship's Dragonbone Rune have been identified."
"Blood Covenant, Night Lords" flagship of the Tenth Company.
"Attack!" Skarsen shouted.
Both the Night Lords and the Word Bearers are traitors, targets of the wolf pack's hunt and punishment.