They could yet win.
Even with the Primarch locked inside his sanctum, for whatever reason, the Thousand Sons could still rout the Wolves and Custodians. Tatumuhz was determined to set an example.
Until now, his vanguard had vanquished all the enemies they came across, including a Wolf Lord and his personal guard. They had cleared key locations for the rest of the Thousand sons to occupy, and were growing in number as they came across more brethren beget by Fenrisians and Custodians. Fifty warriors now marched together, ten of them - Tatumuhz included - psykers. Accompanying them was a hero of the Legion, Khatham, his body now interred in a Dreadnought's iron sarcophagus. They could take on any force invading Prospero.
As the group came across a plaza framed by trees, Tatumuhz spotted on of the giant, shaggy wolves that accompanied the dogs of Russ. This one was massive, easily larger than most of the others he'd slain, but what gave pause toTatumuhz, a veteran of the Raptora, was the being stroking the predator's fur.
It was Fenris.
It's body was the stone-skin of the planet, not the stormcloud grey of the Wolves but the darker tone of the fenrisian peaks at the distance, trimmed with the bluish ore that formed beneath the crust. It carried a bone-sword taken from one of the great Leviathans of the fenrisian deeps, its blade exhuding a fine glacial mist while thunder laced its surface.
On its back it wore a cloak made from the fur of all the wolves from Fenris: every tone of grey, together with black and brown. Across the massive cloak, wolfish and human skulls were visible, and Tatumuhz noticed the human skulls were from Space Wolves. Fenris wore its fallen sons.
Across its armour there were runes, the language of the planet's peoples. Its hair was the pale yellowish orange of Fenris' sun.
Even as he stood frozen in place by the being's majesty, Tatumuhz sensed something was amiss in this divine character.
One of his group whispered the demigod's name, and it all became clear.
The Primarch looked at them like a predator, and Tatumuhz saw the missing element from before: in Russ's eyes burned the molten core of Fenris.
They were not prepared to take on a Primarch, but retreating would be impossible now that the Wolves' genefather was aware of their presence.
With a roar that was the fury of every wolf in Fenris, Russ charged at them.
"Khatham!", Tatumuhz yelled in desperation.
The dreadnought put himself between the Thousand Sons and the raging Primarch, bringing down his power fist.
Without a second of hesitation, Russ rammed his sword into Khatham's close combat weapon. The limb exploded in an instant, throwing the old warrior off-balance. The Wolf Lord seized the opportunity, smashing Khatham's head with a thunderous punch. With the human inside it dead, the dreadnought flayed for a few seconds before dropping to the ground, along with the Thousand Sons' hopes.
Leman Russ climbed on top of the great sarcophagus with a predator's grin, only to be hit by a colossal wave of combined magic. The Primarch disappeared behind the blinding red glow, but any last hope the Thousand Sons magi could've harboured shattered when Russ's sword cut through the crimson torrent. They'd barely managed to set some his fur trophies on fire, making the Primarch appear even more dangerous than before.
In two minutes, Tatumuhz was the only one left alive from his group. He sent a blast of concussive force against Leman Russ. It would've shattered a normal man and it could even stun a marine, but against a demigod, it did little but throw Russ's hair an cloak back.
The Wolf Lord grabbed Tatumuhz by the throat with just enough strength to keep him conscious. The Thousand Son was wondering what would happen next when Russ released his psychic howl to the psyker's face. Tatumuhz's armour's interface went wild, runes flashing nonsensically. His brain seemed to burn with lightning and he lost control of his limbs, spasming in agony. Foam spewed out of his mouth and his eyes filled with blood.
It only got worse when Russ's sword sliced through his armour, leaving his guts hanging, and let Tatumuhz fall to the ground.
He watched through a red tinge and tremendous pain as Fenris walked away from him to hunt his brothers, until a growl made him turn. The gigantic wolf was on top of him, salivating profusely at the spasming warrior. The effects of Russ's howl were as strong as when they started, so Tatumuhz was almost thankful when teeth the size of his hand closed on his insides.
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