Chapter 37 — For Russ and the Allfather
At the edge of the Solar System lay Fenris — a death world of ice seas, volcanic upheavals, and continent-sized predators.
Its skies burned with aurora storms. Its oceans swallowed continents whole. Its seasons could freeze an army overnight.
Civilization did not survive here.
Only the strong did.
The people of Fenris lived as tribal warriors, bound by oath, saga, and survival. To them, life was battle, and death was merely the final verse of a long song.
And among its predators walked creatures mistaken for wolves.
The Fenrisian wolves grew to the size of horses, their fangs able to shear bone, their pack instincts honed through constant war with the planet's horrors.
They were not merely beasts.
They were hunters shaped by the same crucible as men.
The Child of the Ice
The Primarch's gestation capsule fell upon Fenris like a star.
He was found by a she-wolf and raised among her pack, alongside two wolf siblings. In the frozen wastes he learned the language of scent, hunger, pursuit, and survival.
When the pack attacked a human settlement, the tribes fought back with iron and flame. During the struggle, the wolf-child held the defenders at bay long enough for most of the pack to escape.
Later, King Thengir Russ led a hunt to destroy the wolves that had threatened his people.
The she-wolf was slain.
The feral child was captured.
Rather than fear him, the king saw strength.
He named the boy Leman Russ.
The King of Fenris
Among men, Russ grew swiftly in mind and strength.
He wrestled warriors twice his size. He outran hunting beasts. He laughed in the face of winter storms.
No blade, beast, or champion could defeat him.
After Thengir's death, Russ became king.
Under him, tribes united. Warbands bent the knee. Saga replaced feud.
Fenris was not conquered through tyranny — but through strength recognized and strength respected.
Russ's tribe hunted alongside the great wolves.
To him, there was no distinction.
Pack was pack.
Those who fought beside you were kin.
The death of the she-wolf did not break him. On Fenris, death in battle was the natural order.
Only weakness was mourned.
The Emperor Arrives
The Emperor sensed the presence of His lost son.
He informed Yuki.
"I believe I have found your brother."
"I'm coming."
"What for?"
"What if you offend him the moment you meet him?"
"…Very well."
They cloaked themselves in mortal forms and crossed the ice plains as robed travelers.
The Feast of the Wolf King
Russ's hall thundered with song, laughter, and the crackle of roasting meat.
The Emperor and Yuki entered among warriors drunk on ale and victory.
A staggering warrior approached.
"Don't know you. Who are you?"
"I am the Lord of Humanity," the Emperor replied calmly.
The warrior laughed.
"Lord of Humanity? Then I'm Lord of the Galaxy!"
A chill passed through him.
He sobered instantly and retreated.
Around the hall, hardened warriors felt something instinctive:
a presence older than kings.
A booming laugh rolled through the chamber.
Leman Russ stepped forward, flanked by two massive wolves.
He was broad-shouldered, scarred, golden-haired, eyes like winter lightning.
"A bold claim," Russ said. "If you are lord of anything, prove it."
"I seek your allegiance," the Emperor replied.
Murmurs spread through the hall.
Russ grinned.
"Then we contest. If I win, I follow you."
The Emperor nodded.
He glanced beside him.
Yuki was gone.
Meanwhile: The Princess Discovers Real Food
She was devouring a roasted haunch the size of a shield.
After weeks of refined palace cuisine, the raw perfection of Fenrisian fire-roasted meat nearly moved her to tears.
Authentic smoke. Real fat. Honest salt.
This was not presentation.
This was survival.
She raised a horn of ale.
"Worth dying for."
Contest of the Wolf King
The first contest was eating.
Whole roasted beasts were set before them.
The Emperor, who had eaten in the courts of kings and the tents of conquerors for millennia, accepted the challenge.
Russ devoured meat like a winter storm consuming a coastline.
The Emperor lost.
The second contest was drinking.
Fenrisian mead burned like promethium.
Russ drank like a god of old sagas.
The Emperor lost again.
"RUSS! RUSS! RUSS!"
Even Yuki joined the chant.
Nearby warriors stared.
Whose side was she on?
Russ leaned close to the Emperor, breath thick with mead.
"You think you can beat me in wrestling while I'm drunk?"
He grinned like an overgrown husky.
The Emperor laughed.
Russ became the second person after Yuki to make Him laugh aloud.
Then the Emperor struck.
A single gauntleted blow.
Russ collapsed into unconsciousness.
Silence.
Then roaring laughter filled the hall.
The stranger had defeated their king fairly.
That was enough.
Drag Russ aside. He was blocking the feast.
Recognition
A week later, Russ awoke laughing.
He had known.
No man carried that presence unless born for dominion.
But Fenrisians did not kneel to bloodlines.
Only to strength.
When he met the Emperor again, he swore fealty.
The Emperor spoke of the Imperium, of the Primarchs, and of the Great Crusade.
Russ listened.
He did not kneel as a subject.
He pledged as a warrior joining a greater pack.
Before departing, Russ asked:
"By your definitions, the wolves of Fenris would be xenos."
The Emperor replied:
"There are no wolves on Fenris."
Russ understood.
Brothers Meet
"Brother," Russ said, eyeing Horus. "You look strong. I would test you."
"Father would not approve of us fighting for sport," Horus replied.
Russ snorted and returned to eating.
Horus's Disquiet
Horus struggled.
He had imagined the return of his brothers.
Yet now that one stood before him, he felt… displaced.
He sought the Emperor.
"He is a barbarian," Horus said.
The Emperor placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Do not mistake savagery for lack of worth. He conquered a world harsher than any you have known. Left alone, he would have ruled it entirely."
Horus hesitated.
The Emperor glanced at the note Yuki had slipped him.
"My son," he said, "in my heart, you remain my proudest son."
Horus looked up sharply.
"Truly?"
The Emperor nodded.
"If you can, help guide him. He has much to learn."
"I understand."
Horus left.
The Emperor exhaled slowly and opened a small book from a warp-fold:
Don't Lose Because of Your Inability to Express Yourself
A Social Guide for Emotionally Repressed Fathers
— annotated by Yuki
Horus Makes Peace
Horus walked toward the feast hall, regret growing.
How could he claim to be the eldest in spirit if he could not welcome a brother?
He opened the door.
"I'm sorry, brother. My attitude earlier was unworthy. I wish to apologize—"
He froze.
Before him:
Yuki, arm slung around Russ's shoulders, both laughing loudly.
Russ poured another horn of ale.
"Drink, sister! Drink!"
"Burp — again! I can still drink!"
Horus's eye twitched.
"You barbarian lapdog… what have you done to my sister?!"