Captain Caldeas rides a pushcart. Ten thousand years of unpaid tithes come due at the end of a flamer, a molten beam, and a Fenrisian psyker catching macro shells mid-flight. The Imperial Repossession Squadron splashes down on Hive Zarkannon to collect. Amalthea survives the throne room — barely — and coughs up one last word before the cut: Blood Wolves.

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