The process of injection was remarkably swift. While the Iron Men stewards steadily administered the Panacea to the Space Wolves, they took advantage of the warriors' involuntary howls to slice through the black carapace beneath their skin using specialized cutting instruments integrated into their mechanical limbs.
The sight was as uncanny as that of an ancient Terran insect molting its shell. Once the constricted black carapace was peeled away, every Space Wolf's physique visibly expanded, growing significantly more massive. In stark contrast, the thick, shaggy fur that once covered their faces receded, revealing noble, sharp-featured visages, many bearing an undeniable, fleeting resemblance to Leman Russ himself.
Logan Grimnar reacted the most intensely. He clutched his fallen, matted beard with a sense of melancholic loss, yet he simultaneously felt the terrifying potency of the Panacea. His senses of smell, hearing, and sight were heightened beyond his already formidable baseline. He could feel a surge of raw, surging strength in his muscles; compared to his previously aging form, he felt more vigorous and powerful than he had in centuries.
Logan did not know that the Panacea had even stripped away ten thousand years of senescence from the Lion, Primarch of the Dark Angels. His own life, by comparison, had been far less ravaged by the erosion of time.
Soon, a Space Wolf reported a more staggering truth: the Panacea had purged the curse of the Canis Helix. The bestial nature that the Chapter had struggled to suppress and resist for millennia was utterly absent in these warriors. Instead, its benefits had been amplified. The Wolves felt the call of their ancestral spirits more keenly than ever, their perceptions sharpened, accompanied by the awakening of strange, latent abilities. Some were wreathed in arcs of psychic energy, crackling like lightning across their plate, while others who had once shown signs of severe degradation saw their very skeletal structures revert to a stable, heroic form. Their fangs remained slightly prominent, but they were a far cry from their former state.
Even the Wolf Priests and Rune Priests were stunned by their own transformation. As they processed the strange, new sensations, a surge of excitement rippled through the Wolves. When emotion surged, that peculiar, characteristic fervor, once the hallmark of their descent into beast-like madness, welled up within them. But now, the bestial rot had been scrubbed away, leaving only the focused, exhilarating fury of the hunt.
With this shift in emotion, a dormant psychic energy seemed to pulse within them. The Rune Priests were astounded; the way this energy manifested was akin to the psychic shielding they traditionally invoked to protect their bodies in battle. They surmised that whenever the Wolves fell into the heat of combat, their shallow psychic well would instinctively ignite, wrapping their bodies in a protective field. This, however, brought a measure of worry to the Wolf Priests, after all, units with latent psychic sensitivity were always more vulnerable to the taint of Chaos.
Nevertheless, the trade-off was overwhelmingly positive. To erase the negative influence of the Canis Helix would fundamentally revolutionize the strength and stability of the Space Wolves.
As Logan discussed these revelations with Ulrik the Slayer and the other Rune Priests, he noticed Jaghatai Khan watching the transfigured Wolves, his expression one of deep, contemplative thought.
"Lord Jaghatai?"
Feeling the immense, predatory aura of the Primarch approaching, Logan and his group of now-stripped, naked warriors turned and saluted. The Khan's expression was unreadable, bordering on bemused.
"If you seek a greater supply of Panacea, Logan, I suggest you ask these Iron Men openly. You may be concerned about the cost, but in truth, these constructs seem to value this substance as little as common debris." The Khan paused, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Though, I suspect you should request a set of proper vestments first. This state of dress is… hardly dignified, especially now that you are no longer intoxicated."
Reminded of their state, the Wolves looked at each other with sudden, sheepish confusion before finally realizing they were standing completely exposed. Fortunately, the attendant automata, having monitored the conversation, stepped forward without a word and draped them in heavy, wide-cut robes.
As the Wolves' powerful frames were hidden once more, one of the steward automata approached the Great Wolf. "Query: Logan Grimnar. As stated by Jaghatai, do the Space Wolves desire a further reserve of medical supplies?"
Logan, more direct than his kin, did not hesitate. "We want only the Panacea. Give us as much as you can."
Perhaps surprised by such bluntness, the automaton paused for a microsecond before responding. "Regarding organic entities, our current medical reserve consists solely of Panacea. As the specific volume required remains undetermined, this unit proposes an alternative."
As the machine responded, it turned toward the open air. Millions of glittering particles condensed, transmuting quantum data from the virtual into the physical. A strangely shaped memory chip materialized in the automaton's grasp.
"This is a complete STC master template of the Panacea. You may synthesize the compound according to your own requirements. This is a single-use template, it is unlimited in output, cannot be replicated, and will undergo data-decomposition immediately upon utilization." The machine's voice was devoid of inflection. "Do not attempt any unauthorized operations, or the internal data will be irrevocably purged."
Upon hearing this, Jaghatai covered his face with his hand. The sheer, careless generosity of the Iron Men still defied his expectations. For a moment, the Khan considered asking for a copy himself, though he had already traded mineral wealth for his previous share. As a Primarch, he found it beneath his station to beg for more, and, in any case, what he already possessed would sustain his sons for an age.
Logan, however, was in a daze. He reached out and took the chip, and as the gravity of the gift dawned on him, his expression twisted with visceral, overwhelming excitement. He scrambled back to the Wolf-kin and thrust the chip into Ulrik's hands. When he explained that the Iron Men had bestowed upon them a single-use STC template for the miraculous serum, even the most battle-hardened Wolf Priest stood frozen in shock.
Logan did not waste a second. He immediately dispatched two of his finest Battle Leaders and a thousand Space Wolves to escort Ulrik back to Fenris. They would ensure this STC reached the Fang and the hands of the Chief Iron Priest at all costs. The future of the Space Wolves had changed forever in this single, impossible moment.
Axion, for his part, had not anticipated that a single copy of an STC template would trigger such a seismic response. The Wrath of Fenris detached from the fleet, plunged into a Warp-lane, and accelerated toward the Fenris system. Meanwhile, Logan led the remainder of his forces aboard two battle-barges and three strike cruisers. Regardless of whether their quest for Russ succeeded, the Wolves had already secured a prize beyond measure.
For the rest of the fleet, still locked in the docking process, the reality of the situation had yet to set in. They remained unaware that their first true challenge was fast approaching.
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