[The Thunderhawk's engines roared as the transport aircraft streaked across snow-covered terrain, threading through layers of barren valleys. The sound was deafening, a constant mechanical thunder that vibrated through your bones.]
[You woke from your collapse, consciousness returning slowly. Your body was slumped against the viewing port. Through the reinforced glass, a magnificent landscape flashed past in a dizzying display.]
[In the low-lying portions of the valleys below, herds of Fenrisian elk scattered in panic at the Thunderhawk's approach. Their flight disturbed the Fenris wolves that had been stalking them. The predators abandoned their hunt, raising their black-maned necks toward the sky to howl challenges at the aircraft passing overhead.]
[The Thunderhawk's speed was tremendous. Within moments, the valley landscape was far behind, already fading into memory.]
[You pushed yourself upright, accepting the strip of dried meat Wolf Priest Ulric offered you. The jerky was hard as wood and tasted like salted leather. You worked it carefully with your teeth, softening it with saliva before attempting to chew.]
[Ulric sat in the transport's restraint harness, eyes closed, his armored fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the ceramite of his knee plates. His posture had changed. The constant vigilance he'd maintained during your training had relaxed.]
[You sensed something in that change. An emotion you hadn't expected from a Space Marine. Joy, perhaps. And attachment. The feeling of a lone wolf returning to his pack after too long abroad.]
[You tore at the stubborn jerky with your teeth and turned your attention back to the viewing port.]
[The Thunderhawk carried you into a vast expanse of icebergs. Massive formations of blue-white ice jutted from the frozen sea like the bones of dead gods. The scale was almost incomprehensible.]
[Through the rushing landscape, you caught glimpses of figures moving across the ice. Humans, or what appeared to be humans, wrapped in animal furs and carrying prey across their shoulders. Hunters, returning from successful expeditions.]
[Further on, a group of much larger figures noticed the Thunderhawk's passage. They wore power armor, their forms unmistakably those of Astartes. Several raised their arms, waving at the aircraft overhead. A greeting between brothers.]
[You wanted to observe them more carefully, to study these warriors of the Space Wolves, but the Thunderhawk's velocity was too great. They disappeared behind you in seconds.]
[By the time you'd consumed half of the dried meat, the landscape had changed again.]
[The transport entered a mountain range more desolate and hostile than anything you'd seen before. These were not snow-covered peaks. These were mountains of black volcanic rock, their surfaces cracked and steaming.]
[White vapor rose in columns where snow met superheated stone and instantly vaporized. Plumes of steam drifted like ghosts across the mountainsides.]
[Then you saw the magma. Brilliant orange and red, it fountained from fissures in the mountain faces. Some of the eruptions reached heights that nearly matched the Thunderhawk's altitude. Molten rock arced through the air, beautiful and terrifying.]
[You stared at the display, jerky forgotten in your hand. The raw, volcanic fury of Fenris was on full display, and it was simultaneously horrifying and magnificent.]
[Then something even more impressive came into view.]
[One mountain rose above all the others. While its neighbors were impressive formations, this peak dwarfed them completely. It was like comparing an adult to children, a giant standing among lesser beings. The mountain climbed toward the sky until its upper reaches vanished into clouds and mist.]
[The Thunderhawk reduced speed as it approached, allowing you a better view.]
[The mountain's face was riddled with enormous caverns. Each entrance was sealed by massive metal gates, their scale almost beyond comprehension. You estimated that each gate was large enough to accommodate the passage of a Warlord-class Titan, perhaps multiple such god-machines walking abreast.]
[Metal structures covered the mountain's surface like a second skin. Buildings, bunkers, defensive emplacements, all connected by thick pipes and conduits that wound across the rock like mechanical serpents. The entire mountain had been transformed into a fortress, nature and artifice merged into something both organic and manufactured.]
[The sight took your breath away.]
["Mortal boy, we are home." Wolf Priest Ulric's vigorous voice cut through the Thunderhawk's engine roar with ease. "Welcome to the Fang!"]
[In the fifth week, you followed Ulric into the depths of the Space Wolves' fortress monastery, the legendary Fang.]
[It was the first time you'd seen so many Astartes gathered in one place. Dozens of them. Hundreds, perhaps. Warriors in power armor strode through the massive corridors with purpose, each one a demigod of war.]
[You watched as squad after squad boarded Thunderhawk transports in the vast hangars. They departed through the Gate of Fire, Blood, and Sunrise, launching into the sky on missions you could only imagine.]
[The hangar air was thick with the smell of promethium fuel, machine oil, and the sharp tang of chemical agents. The scents assaulted your nostrils, almost overwhelming after weeks in the clean, frozen wilderness.]
[Red-robed Tech-Priests moved between the vehicles like priests tending their flock. They worked on massive machines you'd never seen before, their servo-arms making minute adjustments while swarms of mechanical servitors assisted with the heavier labor. The servitors' movements were jerky and unnatural, their flesh grafted seamlessly with machine components.]
[You kept close to Ulric, acutely aware of how out of place you were. Your simple bearskin clothing stood in stark contrast to the technological marvel surrounding you. Nervous energy made your movements tense, your expression tight.]
[Ulric led you through corridors that seemed to stretch for kilometers, finally stopping before a simple chamber. The room was small by the Fang's standards, but enormous by human measurements. Everything here was built to accommodate Astartes proportions.]
[The Wolf Priest removed his skull helm and turned to face you. His expression was serious, lacking the humor that usually colored his features.]
["You are a stranger from beyond Fenris," he said carefully. "The next trial requires proper authorization. I must inform the Wolf Lords and the Chapter's elders of your presence and obtain their consent before we can proceed."]
[He must have seen the concern flash across your face, because he reached out and placed one massive hand on your shoulder. The weight was considerable, but the gesture was oddly comforting.]
["Do not worry overmuch. I would not have brought you this far if I doubted the outcome. I have lived long enough to choose my prospects carefully."]
[With that, Ulric's towering figure turned and departed, leaving you alone in the chamber.]
[You found a water basin in the corner, simple but functional. Stripping away your bearskin clothing, you began washing away weeks of accumulated grime, sweat, and blood. The water was cold, but after everything you'd endured, it barely registered. You scrubbed yourself methodically, watching the water turn gray and then nearly black with filth.]
[Once you felt marginally clean, you retrieved the crude dagger made from sea monster teeth. Using the blade and the basin's reflective surface, you attempted to make yourself more presentable. Your hair had grown wild and unkempt. Your beard was patchy and uneven. You worked carefully, trimming away the worst excesses.]
[The chamber's door suddenly slammed open with enough force to make the metal ring.]
[An Astartes stood in the doorway, his power armor painted in the Space Wolves' colors. Red hair spilled from beneath his helm, and when he looked at you, his eyes were the dim yellow of a Fenris wolf. Those eyes blinked once, slow and deliberate, distinctly predatory.]
["Come with me," he said. It wasn't a request. "Now."]
[You drew in a steadying breath and tucked the dagger into your clothing. Whatever this was, resisting would be pointless and stupid.]
[The red-haired Astartes led you through a maze of passages, each seeming to descend deeper into the mountain's heart. The walls changed from worked metal to natural stone, ancient and eternal. You were heading into the oldest parts of the Fang, the sections carved when humanity had first claimed this world.]
[Finally, you arrived before a massive gate of black stone. A double-headed eagle was carved into its surface, wings spread wide, alongside the snarling visage of a wolf. The craftsmanship was exquisite, each feather and fang rendered in perfect detail.]
[The gate opened with a grinding rumble. Wind immediately blasted through the opening, carrying heat and cold simultaneously, along with a smell you couldn't quite identify. Something ancient and powerful.]
[Beyond the gate, two dark entrances waited like open mouths.]
["Follow me," the red-haired Astartes said over his shoulder, not bothering to check if you complied.]
[He walked directly into the left-hand entrance without hesitation and vanished into the darkness.]
[You licked your cracked lips, tasting salt and old blood. Then you stepped forward into the passage.]
[The sensation of weightlessness hit immediately. Your stomach lurched upward as your feet left solid ground. You were falling, sliding down a shaft carved through the mountain itself. The walls rushed past, close enough to touch. Friction from your shoulders and back against the stone slowed your descent but didn't stop it.]
[You emerged into an underground cavern so vast its ceiling disappeared into shadow. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and minerals. Heat radiated from somewhere below, mixing with cold air from above to create swirling currents.]
[The red-haired Astartes stood before an enormous archway carved directly into the cavern wall. The stonework was covered in wolf heads and runes that seemed to writhe and shift in the uncertain light. Looking at them made your eyes hurt and your head feel strange.]
["This is the Gate of Morkai," the Astartes said, his tone lazy, almost bored. He gestured toward the archway with one armored hand. "Only those worthy in both body and soul may pass through. There are only two possible outcomes waiting beyond: death or glory."]
[He turned those unsettling yellow eyes on you, blinking slowly once more.]
["Do you dare to enter and try?"]
[You felt something through the archway. A presence. A thrumming power that resonated in your bones and made your teeth ache. It was alien, incomprehensible, vast beyond understanding. Every instinct screamed at you to run.]
[You raised your head, drew in a deep breath, and walked toward the archway.]
[One foot crossed the threshold.]
["RUSS! LUCAS! WHAT IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME DID YOU DO?!"]
[Wolf Priest Ulric's roar exploded through the cavern with such force that loose stones rattled. His fury was palpable, an almost physical presence.]
[You reflexively looked at the red-haired Astartes. Lucas, apparently. His expression hadn't changed. He blinked those wolf-like yellow eyes at you one more time, and despite the situation, you could swear he was smiling.]
[You opened your mouth to speak, to ask what was happening, but no sound emerged.]
[Reality broke.]
[Cold like the death of stars crashed through you. Heat like the birth of suns consumed your flesh. Both sensations existed simultaneously, occupying the same space, impossible yet real. Your body tried to scream but couldn't remember how.]
[Time and space twisted. You were moving without moving, falling without falling. The cavern disappeared. The Fang disappeared. Fenris itself seemed to slip away like water through grasping fingers.]
[Through the chaos, through the pain and disorientation, a new reality emerged.]
[You stood in a palace. But no palace you'd ever heard of could compare. The architecture was wrong, built according to geometries that hurt to perceive. Colors shifted and blended in ways that shouldn't exist. Purple and pink swirled together, separating and recombining in patterns that seemed almost alive. Almost aware.]
[The air itself felt wrong. Too thick. Too warm. It carried a scent like exotic incense mixed with corruption, intoxicating and repulsive in equal measure.]
[Somewhere in the distance, you heard laughter. High and cruel and delighted. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing through the impossible palace.]
[You'd crossed more than a threshold. You'd crossed into somewhere that should not be. Somewhere mortal feet were never meant to tread.]
[The Warp had claimed you.]