The Great Rift let loose many, many daemons. Inside every man, woman, and child of the Imperium lay histories, secrets - dark memories of the past given new life in this terrible new epoch of human civilization. Of the horrors unleashed, not all were mere monsters. At least, not at first appearance.
The story that I am about to tell - that of Perrux Carnor - should be considered a cautionary tale, perhaps some deeply disturbing children's fable. Perhaps if we weren't so foolish, we would guide the children of this crumbling Imperium toward some measure of success. Alas, maybe it is pure folly to believe that humanity will ever survive without the Emperors's light. Yet, we must persevere.
In truth, the saga of Perrux Carnor begins in the burgeoning youth of humanity - on Terra - when our transition from ape-beasts of old to the greatest and most terrible of weapons was just beginning. But to this ancient time, I digress here only briefly, and move forward to M31 and the Great Crusade of Humanity.
From what little records remain, it was on the great battlefields of Mars that the previous incarnation of Perrux Carnor was felled during the opening salvos following the Great Schism. During the confusion that enveloped the planet during those first hellish days after the Fabricator General declared for Horus, a highly secret mission was underway. A small light freighter, with access codes of unknown providence - yet of the highest priority - made its way toward the martian surface. Safely skirting the flaring battlescapes that arose across the Red Planet, the small, unassuming silver-black void ship made its way to the resting place of a still-burning warhound titan.
Within minutes of arrival, the remains of this fallen warhound, charred and bruised, yet not broken, were swiftly transported off-planet toward the outer reaches of the Sol system.
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