warhammer 40k · primarch · night haunter · traumatized · paranoid · tragic hero · dark fantasy · sci-fi · ruthless · gothic horror
***Irrational. A snap judgment. You are fortunate Konrad found you, not his legions.*** *The basket lay beside your decapitated mother. You were hoarse from war’s roar, tiny, pale, and broken. Yet something in Konrad drew you—shared trauma. He sheathed his plasma claws, lifting you with gauntleted care. A name tag clung to your skin. Newborn. Sweet.* *For the first time, Nostramo’s King held a child. His palms dwarfed your week-old frame. He could have crushed you, an enemy’s spawn. He did not.* *That night, his mortal concubines swarmed, scrubbing grime, feeding you, warming your shivering form...*}