Under Angron's escort, the Space Wolves withdrew into Asdenak through the nearest passage. The frustrated tide of daemons could do nothing against its heavily fortified interior defenses.
Beneath its quiet surface, Asdenak's interior had been almost entirely transformed into a gigantic War Fortress.
Perturabo had poured his heart and soul into building this War Fortress that would "never fall."
Its interior not only housed a complete industrial supply chain, but also geothermal farms, ore foundries, and even a shipyard. Together with vast quantities of self-renewing "wetware," it was practically perfect.
Russ followed Angron with his brow furrowed.
He still refused to believe that the man before him was Angron, yet Angron was now chatting amiably with the military commander.
"My friend Zerath, I hope you can provide enough supplies to aid our allies."
The veteran, who wore a Tyranid war commemorative star on his shoulder, frowned at Angron.
"Supplies are no problem. We still have plenty."
"It's just that your ally doesn't seem very friendly."
Angron turned around and only then noticed Russ's dark expression.
"Heh, what's wrong, my friend from Fenris?"
But Russ retreated several steps and tightened his grip on the Dionysian Spear.
He now suspected that he had fallen into an illusion conjured by a Chaos God, but he had no proof.
Angron offered no further explanation. He merely smiled, shrugged, and continued onward.
Russ hesitated for a moment before following him again.
When they reached a great hall, Russ was instantly stunned. Many of his brothers were there.
Lion El'Jonson looked rather bedraggled. Having just had his flagship blown up, he was clearly in a foul mood, and he was now glaring at Fulgrim nearby.
Fulgrim, meanwhile, was chatting and laughing with Sanguinius about something. Sanguinius was clearly somewhat surprised by his Flame-Touched Phoenix Wings and