A grotesque, armored biomechanical war machine, adorned with roots, glowing green fungi, skulls, and exposed organs, stands in a desolate, foggy battlefield with ruined buildings.

The Leviathan of Renewal is a grotesque fusion of decayed nobility and biomechanical horror, towering nearly twice the height of a standard Dreadnought—its silhouette hulking and misshapen beneath layers of overgrown armor and parasitic life. Its sarcophagus, once the sacred resting cradle of a hero, is now consumed by roots and fungal membranes, pulsing with a sickly bioluminescence of rotting green and oily amber. Organic growths crawl across its faceplate, obscuring the chapter’s ancient insignia with writhing vines and blooming spore-pods. The left arm has mutated into a gnarled fusion of steel and bark—a multi-barreled plague cannon that resembles a rotted-out tree trunk, with sap-like ichor dripping from its vents. Mold-covered exhaust ports erupt from its shoulders, pumping clouds of pollen-like spores into the air, choking allies and enemies alike with corrupted vitality. The right arm is a bloated claw, plated in rusting ceramite, but embedded with twitching tendrils and serpentine growths that react independently—grabbing, strangling, or planting infectious seeds into anything it touches. Its legs are encased in layers of armor that mimic the rings of ancient trees, fused with rusted pistons and hydraulic muscles that groan under its weight. Each step leaves behind scorched craters of decay where weeds instantly sprout, bloom grotesquely, and wither in seconds. From its back, massive spinal roots extend outward and drag across the battlefield, implanting twisted See more