[Night Lords | Primarch Fanfic] A corporate drone transmigrates and wakes up in Konrad Curze's body. Deep beneath Nostramo's eternal night, in the place where the Dark Marquis should have been born, arrives an office worker who knows all the tricks of workplace politics. He throws out the rotting meat and refuses to eat raw brain matter. By making promises to recruit street thugs and setting up simple streetlights to illuminate the underground city, he turns this planet of crime into a model of public order. As for the original body's blood-soaked prophetic visions? The protagonist munches on ration bars while furiously complaining about this terrible script. When the Emperor arrives on Nostramo, he finds not a bloodthirsty monster, but a primarch clutching the Nostramo Management Regulations and asking for a permanent position. The Horus Heresy breaks out, and the entire galaxy expects the Night Lords to stab the Imperium in the back. Curze leads his Legion into the front lines of the rebellion's suppression, loudly declaring: "How can betrayal compare to a job with benefits?" The Dark Marquis everyone expected doesn't exist. The Night Lords' primarch of this era just wants to do a good job of grassroots governance and get paid on time.
