Okay, so this is kinda different from my past stuff. Me and my Discord Friends have been working on a 30k alternate universe with new OC Primarchs and legions for a few years now. Very typical alternate heresy stuff, not too unique from various others you may have seen. The progress is going slowly, but I felt like taking this one short story I wrote and sharing it here; it's meant to be kinda in the style of the Primarch books. This short tidbit is about one of those OC Primarchs, this one created by me, the sire of the 17th Legion. There exists a far wider story around him and his siblings, and I might share more of them in the future.

Suzarian Kronos: Thief of Voices

"Man is the cruelest animal."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

"A mind without purpose will wander in dark places."

-Imperial proverb

Under the burning sun, upon the scorching dust of old cursed Crubolia, only Silena remained.

The vicious shade riders of the tyrant cities had ambushed tribe Kronos when he himself had been in the mine shafts hunting for water fountains. They killed everyone they could catch, and then they drained the precious water carrier shuttles before riding away, condemning the survivors of Kronos tribe to a slower and less merciful death.

He had rallied the survivors and led them into the wildlands, knowing that there was not much time. They needed to find a new water source before the water that the survivors had managed to salvage ran out.

They did not find water. He led them for several days, using all his unnatural senses to locate water, but in vain. The tribesmen died, one by one. The more selfless ones were the first to go, those gave their water to the others, old men and women sacrificing themselves for the younger ones. Then the others began to fall, one by one. When they could no longer walk, he carried as many of them on him as he could.

More time passed under the merciless sun of Crubolia, and He threw off the extra weight always when he sensed a heart coming to a final stop. More time passed, and he could not find water. He roared and cried, pushing his almost tireless body forward with the speed of desperation and passed the dunes almost as fast as a wind glider. But there was no water, not a drop.

Finally, only Silena remained. He carried her sun-scorched body on his arms, begging for the first time for spirits of the land to guide him to even the most modest of water sources, another tribe or even a city-state. As a last resort, he had made Silena drink his own blood, hoping the unnaturally red fluid would sustain her a bit longer.

At long last, He stopped. The only heartbeats he could hear anymore were his own twin hearts. He looked down into his lap, looked at the fresh corpse that had just stopped thirsting for water for eternity.

He let out a cry of pure animalistic suffering and anger, schilling thunder of a noise that echoed over the sands of the wasteland to the horizon. A demigod's wailing, birthed by a creature burdened with grief for his adopted sister, the very last of his family. When the scream finally died down, it left behind the same silence it had banished, and pain nothing could ever heal.

Suzarian stood there in the middle of the wasteland for a long time, simply looking at Silena. The desert wind caressed his frame, its silent noise the only thing that broke the silence every so often. Then Suzarian let go of the body and cast it to the ground. He left it as a gift for the carrion birds as per tradition and started marching in a new direction, a direction he knew would eventually lead him to the territory of a city-state.

He would make them suffer. That he swore with the absolute hate that burned his veins, a hatred that could never be satisfied truly. For every one of the tribe who had dried to death, for Silena, he would silence them all.

A gunship belonging to the invaders flew past the window, its technologically advanced engines howling as it stalked the sky sowing death. Soon the noise was gone, as fast as it had arrived. But the silence was once again shattered a moment after, this time by something far more alarming.

Millian flinched when she heard noise from the door of her spire chambers. The large door was locked firmly from inside, and as such denied the intruder entry, but only for a second. In the next moment, Millian heard a terrible sound of bending metal, followed by terrible tremors as something that was most certainly the door was sent crashing across her champers.

Millian let out a fearful whimper as the crashing sounds died off. That was when she could first hear the footsteps. The heavy, hasteless footsteps of something big moving towards her.

"Who is out there?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "Are you… after you are one of them? Of the invaders?"

The being that stalked her chamber did not reply. Millian grasped a hold of the sheets of her large bed she was sitting on, seeking comfort from the soft fabric. "Well?" She asked with a bit more royal authority in her voice. "Who are you? Did my brother send you? Or uncle?"

Still no reply. "Answer me!" Millian let out, but her voice cracked and revealed her hidden dread. "Are you a friend or a foe of my father's reign?"

"Oh, I am most definitely not the former," the intruder responded with her native tongue from somewhere around the center of the room. It was a voice unlike Millian had ever heard. Masculine with a peculiar nasal flow but strong and full of calm vitality. The words coming from those lips moved something in Millian, the unclear magnitude of the speaker conveyed just in his words. In some other situation, Millian could have found the voice quite pleasant to the ears. Now it only made her afraid.

"And what comes to your brother, he is dead. Same with your uncle. And your cousins. They layout there, their voices forever silenced. I believe I may have stepped over many of them on the way here. Now, it's your father I am looking for. Does not seem that he is here though."

Millian let out a sharp gasp upon hearing the fate of her family, only the tension of the situation stopping her from shedding a tear. The man that had invaded her chambers seemed to ignore her and started speaking in some hissing language that Millian did not recognize. From the sound of it, she assumed the being was speaking to some sort of communication device.

After his brief exchange of words, Millian could feel and hear the man taking some heavy steps towards her. She could sense the being stopped in front of her great bed, and she instinctively leaned just a hint backward, before she caught herself and leaned forwards instead as she remembered who she was and that it was not appropriate for her to show fear, no matter how terrified she was.

"You seem rather calm, child…" the being said, his voice much closer now. "Do I not scare you, little girl?"

"I can't see you," Millian responded. "I am blind without my augments. My… my chamber lady should have them but… I do not know where she is… she was just here. She was just here. She was supposed to give my augments to me."

"It seems she had an unforeseen engagement with a piece of the ceiling," the man replied. "There are holes in your grand quarter's roof. And your servant was unfortunately below them when they were made. There was a sickening wet crunch as something was crushed, probably underfoot, right by Millian's bed.

"Could you… can you see my augments on her? Could you give them to me?" She requested.

"Do refrain from putting them on," the man replied.

"But I can't see," Million said, now with a rather pleading tone as her sight was denied to her. She felt really helpless and vulnerable. "Not seeing makes me afraid."

"Oh trust me, child, you are far less afraid while blind…" The man took a couple of leisurely steps around her bed. "You don't happen to know where your father is hiding from the war at his doorstep? I actually thought the High King would be cowering in this spire, based on the resistance on the way."

"You are looking for my father?" Millian asked, trying to use her skills learned from years in the court to keep her steadiness. "Are you… are you going to kill him too?"

"Naturally," the man replied without a hint of hesitation.

"You monster…" Millian let out, finally mustering a hint of defiance before this outworld invader.

"That's what some people call me while not in my presence. Lord of Monsters, they whisper and snarl. But I am not a monster. I am just a human being, after a fashion at least. As human as my father could make me."

"Did he send you here?" Millian asked. "To attack our world? To burn our cities? To murder our people?"

"Yes," the man replied with a faint snarl. "That is exactly what He sent me to do."

"Then he is a monster as well," Millian replied. What kind of ruler could send his armies to wrought such death and destruction.

"Oh, you have no idea, child," The man said with a faint chuckle. "I have seen my share of the horrors of humanity, and nothing has yet to compare to the creature that sits on the Golden Throne of Terra, the self-proclaimed Master of Mankind."

"If he is the ruler of your empire, does that make you a prince or such?" Millian asked, somewhat surprised that such a wretched sounding and murderous being could be of high caste.

"Yes, it does…" Millian could feel the being turn towards her. "Now that I think about it, your royal highness, I have yet to introduce myself to your grace. The voice held no courtesy and was filled with thinly veiled mockery. "I am Suzarian Kronos, Sovereign of Murder, 17th son of the Emperor of Mankind. And I have come to take everything from you all."

This being named Suzarian Kronos started walking around again. Millian could easily make out the heavy footfalls going around in circles in her chamber. The man spoke to his communication device every so often in his outworld tongue, and if Millian could make out anything from his tone of voice, he was mildly displeased with something. As the minutes came and went, it started to feel like he had completely forgotten her existence like she was nothing to him but a part of the chamber decoration.

Eventually, however, Suzarian Kronos spoke to her again, seemingly recalling her existence. "How was your relationship with your father?" He asked.

Millian struggled in thinking up a response to the unexpected question, but before she could voice her response, Suzarian spoke again.

"Don't respond, I couldn't care less," he said dismissively, showing that his question was asked purely for himself rather than any interest towards her. "But since you, little royalty, have nothing better to do with your life, how about you help me with passing the time by lending me your keen little ears."

Millian was about to ask if she had a choice, for she did not particularly want to converse with this man, but then she realized what a stupid question it would have been. The man did not ask her for anything.

"Let me tell you a short tale. A tale of the Emperor of Mankind, and when He found me on a distant world named Crubolia."

Suzarian Kronos stood by the window of his throne room, beholding the change that was being delivered upon his world by the Empire descending from the stars. Wonders of technology were used to start shaping the Capital of Crubolia, with new structures slowly rising both in the city and beyond its walls.

Suzarian felt nothing at seeing the old getting torn down. He himself had sanctioned for the Imperial construction overseer lords and the representatives of the Mechanicum to do as they saw efficient. There was nothing in this city that Suzarian cared about enough to stop if being torn down in the way of the new. There was little on the whole world for him. The culture, the civilization of Crubolia, it was but a shade of a home to him, something that he had taken into his possession but something he valued not. There was little he valued that had once belonged to the upper class of Cruboli's city-states, the upper class he had long ago exterminated to the last man, woman and child by his own hands.

If anything, the remnants of old Crubolia held nothing but distaste from him. So let it all be ground to dust, and maybe what came after was less worthy of his contempt. Suzarian did not hold any hope that it would be. He held little hope for anything.

Suzarian turned to the grand throne room, one that, like everything on this cursed ball of dust and poison, Suzarian had stolen from the old rule. The room seemed more barren than before. Old tapestries, heraldies and symbols of power and been mostly stripped down in the wake of the Imperial arrival. The elaborate torch structures that were used to illuminate the space were dark and cold, and the only light came through the high windows.

There were no humans around, servants or members of Suzarian's makeshift court. There were also no grizzly trophies of Suzarian's victims hanging from racks and walls, only things he actually felt himself missing in this empty and coldly sterile chamber. He was alone as he started walking towards his throne, an ugly thing scraped together from common metals for his massive body by artisans, deliberately extremely distinct from the gilded thrones of past rulers. The only thing that broke the aesthetic, was, of course, the scythe.

A war scythe in the proportions meant for demigods. A scythe with a flawless blade of red-hued adamantium. A crest and shaft of hand-crafted auramite and gold, decorated by a gemstone fashioned into a form of a crystalline eagle spreading its wings. It was a beautiful weapon of masterful craft, and its form embodied the magnificent imperial glory and the vision of the Imperial Truth. The scythe sent a passing shiver of disgust along Suzarian's scalp of black hair.

There was a sound of the main door of the throneroom being opened. Suzarian tilted his head and upper body around to look upon the servant who hastily made his way in. The demeanor of the human told Suzarian the cause of this disturbance. He was here.

"Show Him in," Suzarian said as he turned his gaze away, not even allowing the man to state his business. The servant stopped, bowed and immediately made his way back. After a while, two gilded forms of the Custodian Guard stepped in and took up guard positions by the door.

Suzarian walked away from his throne and headed for the door to welcome his visitor. The so-called Master of Mankind. The Emperor of the Imperium. His father.

And as the Emperor came, his radiance instantly transformed the space of the throne room, banishing the cold atmosphere and replacing it with something majestic. The golden aura took over everything, except for the heart of the son waiting for his father.

The Emperor talked, though His lips made no movements, and Suzarian listened. The Emperor was leaving to rejoin the great crusade and had come to say farewell to His son who would soon join that same endeavor. And the Emperor told that a host of warriors had arrived, ready to to be taken into the command of Suzarian.

There were many pretty words, many declarations and expectations. Perhaps some attempt at fraternal connection, in the same way as a tyrant king dictates how his progeny is to do his will. None of those words reached Suzarian's soul, not truly, and the Primarch wondered if the being of monstrous power that was his father could sense it.

What would the Emperor have done? If he, Suzarian, spat on the Emperor's face and his vision. Would He strike Suzarian down, here and now, and crush the disobedient child from existence with His indomitable might?

Yes, He would, Suzarian imagined.

So he bent his knee, protecting his own neck by offering submission. He accepted what the Emperor bestowed upon him.

The Emperor left. First the throne room, and soon Crubolia. Suzarian stayed behind, waiting for the arrival of the XVIIth Legion heralds that were making planetfall somewhere distant. He returned to stand before his throne, and ended up staring down on his scythe. The Emperor had given it to Suzarian. Father had allowed him to claim it from His personal collection. A great gift to a son welcomed home.

Suzarian stared at the crystalline two-headed eagle decoration, seeing his grey eyes reflected from it. A minute passed, with dark thoughts circling inside his head. His unblinking eyes could not let go of the scythe. The Emperor… the Emperor… The Emperor!

In a flash of movement, Suzarian grabbed the scythe and lifted it. Then he brought it down over his knee, violently twisting the shaft of the weapon. A couple of more strikes with his inhuman strength was enough to break the priceless weapon in two.

"Why did you break it?" The young royal maiden asked.

Suzarian paused his story. He had gotten caught up in the moment, and almost forgotten he had been spilling his history to someone. He felt mild irritation at being interrupted by this pathetic girl with augment sockets in place of eyes, but he allowed it to fizzle out. He had been the one who had gotten talkative in a moment of boredom, so he could at least spare her the opportunity to offer inquiry. The question was quite welcome, actually.

"Because I hated it," Suzarian said. "Looking at it sickened me. I felt disgust at what it represented."

"But it was a gift from your father…" The girl responded.

"Exactly. A gift from my father." Suzarian hissed. "Father! MY FATHER!" he suddenly barked, swinging his arm to strike against one of the decorated pillars of the chamber, crushing the stone under the impact. The moment passed as soons as it had arrived, and Suzarian controlled himself. A sudden impulse of anger had gotten the better of him.

"Do you… hate your father?" the girl asked, clearly frightened by the sound of cracking rock.

The question caught Suzarian off guard. He found he had to think about the answer for a moment.

"Yes… I absolutely do."

"Why? What did he ever do to you? He came to retrieve you after you had been lost. He gave you an army and a place of power in his empire."

"My father… is a monster," Suzarian said slowly. "I don't think your fragile stupid little mind can even imagine it. Humanity has never seen a more monstrous overlord. He is a being of unimaginable psychic might, his power through endless hordes is limitless, and atrocities committed in his name know no bounds." Suzarian paused for breath, containing his voice. "And He does not care for me. He does not want a son. He wants a powerful slave to do his dirty work. And I can't do anything about it, should I wish to exist. That is why I hate Him."

Suzarian fell silent for a moment. He walked around the chamber, retreating for a moment into his own mind, ignoring the meaningless girl.

"But… but…" Suzarian said, forming a cruel smile that the girl could not see. "Powerful may my father be. But He is not eternal. Because, do you know little girl? What happens to dreams?"

"D-dreams?" she asked.

"Yes, dreams child. People have dreams. Aspirations. Hopes. Plans. But reality is dark and cruel. All ideals must be eventually crushed by the universe, and all dreams must fall apart and vanish. Time will erase all dreams, sooner or later. The greater the dream, the greater the fall. Such is the case even for the golden dreams of my father. The Imperial Truth. The Imperium of Man. The grand utopia of humanity's dominance."

Suzarian smiled again. "And one day, sooner or later, it will all come crashing down. My father and all his works will come to nothing in a glorious blaze. I intend to be there to witness it all. And father will know… that I am... sovereign."

Suzarian turned and leaned on the pillar he had half demolished. "But now, where was I? Oh yes, the scythe…"

Suzarian ran. He fled his stolen palace claimed with murder, squeezing the fragments of the scythe in his hands. He did not stop nor allow anyone to stop him before he found himself before the doors of the master artisans of the weapon makers.

Suarian pushed the doors apart, entering a mighty forge occupied by a dozen surprised artisans at work. "Get out," Suzarian snarled, and the artisans hurried over themselves to comply, fearfully fleeing the forge.

Suzarian closed the doors, found a workstation and laid out the pieces of the scythe. Then he threw the pieces into the fires and started his work.

The valuable metals were melted down and broken apart, turned into glowing metal slag and unworkable waste. Suzarian gathered the metal once it had been liquified, claiming only a portion of the total mass of the destroyed golden weapon. He placed the metal into a mold and then allowed it to cool. Then he worked on it for hours, shaping the metal into a new form, a new weapon.

And finally, he had a new tool of murder in his hands.

Suzarian beheld his handiwork. A long, highly sharp knife blade of a dark chrome color rested in his palm, attached to a dark metal shaft perfect for his grasp. Suzarian lifted the blade, allowing the forge fires to gleam off its faintly reflecting blade.

Suzarian smiled with a pleased expression. The scythe had become a knife, a more refined and subtle thing than something to be wielded on a battlefield. From the foul weapon given by his father, he had crafted an instrument of death he could actually appreciate, and would certainly put to use.

"My sovereign?" came a voice from the doors. Suzarian turned around. It was one of the artisans, who now that Suzarian had finished his craft, saw an opportunity to address him. "The giant warriors of the Imperium are here. They are looking for you, as you were not at the palace. A representative is waiting outside..."

Suzarian slowly rose from amidst the workstations. He made his way to the doors and stopped before the artisan. "My gratitude," Suzarian said as he loomed over the man. Then he lifted his knife and with one fast motion slid the man's throat. In a blink of an eye, man's voice was eternally silenced.

The artisan fell down, instantly dead. The knife had severed his head almost to the spine, and a pool of vivid red blood was gushing from his neatly sliced neck. Suzarian paid the man no mind, stepping over the corpse as he cleaned his knife on his wrist.

A single warrior clad in dim green power armor, an Astartes as they were called, stood in the yard before the forge complex. The warrior visibly flinched as Suzarian came into view. Then he fell to his knees. "My Sire Primarch," the Legionnaire uttered.

Suzarian looked at the warrior for a moment. For some reason, he found himself instantly liking the genehanced warrior before him. A form of connection could be felt between them, something Suzarian had never felt with living beings before.

"Rise, warrior," Suzarian said. "I take it that you represent those that will inherit the legacy of clan Kronos?"

"Why did you kill the man?" Millian asked. She could not understand the reasoning of killing anyone for no cause like that. "Did he break some code or etiquette that was severe enough to warrant his death?"

"No," the being beyond Millian's blind yes responded. "The blade needed to be wet, naturally, and he happened to be there."

The voice was completely without remorse. It would have been better if the tone of the voice had told the being did not simply understand the viciousness of his action. But that was not the case, Millian could easily tell the being understood fully well and just did not care.

At that moment Millian could hear the communication device come to life once more, and this time the voice of Suzarian was clearly excited by the news. He gave what sounded like a command and then cut the line. "We found your father's hiding hole." Millian could feel her blood go cold in her veins.

Suzarian walked towards her, she could feel his heavy steps approach his bed. In the next moment, Millian could feel large armored hands wrap around her waist and lift her without the barest of efforts. She let out an alarmed yelp, and found herself sitting on one of the arms, resting against a wide metal surface that she assumed was a chestplate. The man was gigantic, inhumanly large, monstrous. She grabbed on to something she could hold for support. Her hands found something wet staining parts of the armor.

Echoing above the sounds of war in the distance, a noise of great engines started to resonate beyond the spire's windows, growing in intensity as the source of the sounds approached.

"Our story session ends here, little one. My ride has arrived," Millian could hear the being carrying her whisper right above her small frame.

A sound of thick high-grade glass breaking pierced the chamber. Millian could feel the movement of the body holding her as he smashed one of the great windows to pieces and opened the spire to the blowing wind outside. The engine noises were now almost deafening and came to a halt right next to the spire. Millian could feel the aircraft hovering before her, seeking landing from the balconies by the spire's sides. There was a sound of something touching down, and the engine's sounds grew a bit more tolerable. Metallic snarls were let out by the aircraft as Millian and her carrier approached it. Soon she could make out voices that were clearly talking.

"My Sovereign," came a hail in a crackle of a voice filtered through some system. Millian could feel her carrier starting to ascend something.

"Dear girl… I know you can't see it, but the view from here is quite spectacular. Your world is burning. Your city lies in ruins. Your people are slaughtered on the street, their corpse mountains rising towards the sky. Your life has been an illusion, a long dream. A dream in which nothing bad could ever happen, in which you and your people's prosperity would continue forever, in which the judgment day would never come. But now you have awakened from your dream… and this reality finally comes to mercilessly crush you…"

"Is the… human coming with us, sire? Asked another voice, seemingly spotting Millian being carried.

"No," came the short reply of Suzarian Kronos.

Millian felt an iron grip grab her throat and lift her in the air, a pair to the hand that had carried her. She could feel nothing but empty air and an endlessly echoing drop under her. She struggled for air as the winds tore about her, letting out terrified whimpers and gurgles.

"I really don't like children..." Then the hand cast her away from the spire, and Millian fell, her voice soon to be forever silenced.

That was Primarch Suzarian Kronos. Not a pleasant fellow as you can see.

If and when I get around writing more of these short stories, I will probably publish them here. I might also put here things written by the other Primarch writers, we'll see.

I would appreciate it if you guys would care to give some feedback on how this little tidbit works on its own and as a part of a greater whole that you don't yet know.

Have a nice day.