The Wailing Leviathan is amongst the largest and most catastrophic Collector Entities ever recorded. Unlike many of its kin, the Leviathan displays no signs of higher intelligence, malice or intent. It does not negotiate. It does not command. It simply moves.

Standing some six times the height of a man and stretching the length of a river barge, the Leviathan resembles a grotesque fusion of living flesh, rusted iron and the shattered hull of some impossible vessel. Immense pillar-like legs carry its bulk forwards with ponderous inevitability.

Its vast body serves as a living prison. Cavities, cages and flesh-lined compartments fill its swollen frame, packed with countless victims suspended between life and death. Their cries merge into a single ceaseless chorus that can be heard for miles around, giving the creature its name.

The manifestation of a Wailing Leviathan marks the zenith of the Tormentor Cults' atrocities, requiring suffering on a scale that defies comprehension. Once manifested, it simply crawls onwards. Cities, fortresses and armies that stand in its path are crushed, captured or absorbed into the growing mass of prisoners contained within its body. To face the Wailing Leviathan is no battle; it is catastrophe made flesh.