Author's Note:
The actual Chapter 72 is released today, but this little extra is just as canon in this fanfic as the other omakes.
I just felt like writing, that's all.
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Location: Baal Secondus — World: Warhammer 40k
In a Space Marine recruitment camp, two Astartes from the 10th Company stood motionless before the cohort of young recruits of the Chapter.
Becoming a Space Marine.
On some worlds, it is the ultimate honor.
Elsewhere, it is sometimes a matter of abductions carried out by the Imperium, desperate to find fresh blood for its ranks.
A forced recruitment.
But on Baal Secondus, none of that applies: here, the nomadic tribes revere Sanguinius, the angelic-winged Primarch.
For these irradiated inhabitants, the arrival of a Blood Angel, even to take their child, is seen as a blessing granted by the Primarch.
The tribes even willingly journey to the recruitment camp, hoping their child will pass the selection trials and become a Space Marine recruit.
All children and adolescents aged ten to thirteen, observed by the "Empress's angels," could one day become their future brothers-in-arms.
They "only" had to survive the ruthless selection process, then endure training as grueling as it was deadly.
And that was just the beginning: they would then face the surgical implantation performed by the Apothecary of the 10th Company.
Most Blood Angels are born on their Chapter's homeworld, Baal, or its moons, barring exceptional cases.
Thus, the young gathered here were almost all from the great tribes of Baal Secondus.
Perhaps one or two shared distant blood ties with the Astartes examining them.
But for these warrior-instructors, that was irrelevant.
They were not here for reunions, as an Astartes must sever all ties with mortals after their ascension.
The Space Marines were here to sort, nothing more.
"Strange… I don't see the children or members of *that* tribe," declared the head instructor sergeant after inspecting the recruits.
He is Aphael.
Aphael, a prominent member of the 10th Company, commands the Scout squads.
His mission: to find neophytes worthy of the Chapter.
Yet, the current batch… seemed terribly ordinary to him.
Aphael was hoping for an anomaly, a rare spark in this desert of recruits.
Then he heard of a tribe led by a child with abnormal power, a brute strength almost legendary.
Intrigued, he decided to retrieve this "specimen" himself, after observing the tribe from afar using the Mechanicus's Servo-skulls.
But for weeks now, nothing.
Contact with this promising recruit had been lost, swallowed by a surge of unknown radiation that even the Mechanicus's technology couldn't withstand.
This was all the more strange since the Blood Angels' equipment, for centuries, has been adapted to the radiation of their three worlds.
Faced with this mystery, Aphael wanted at least to assess the worth of the tribe known as "The Dragon's Wings" up close.
Yet… no one had come.
The tribe hadn't deigned to cross the irradiated desert.
However, it had had time to assimilate all the other tribes in the region, to the point of becoming a force one could describe as an organization rather than a mere tribal group.
Now, they had grown to the size of a veritable city.
"They sent no one, Commander."
'Though the recruitment ceremony only happens once a year… I'll make an exception.'
While the clone of Sanguinius was gradually rising to the rank of a true Magus, his tribe faced the shadow of an unforgiving storm.
…
Location: DxD — World: Biblical Underworld
Somewhere in the underworld, a middle-aged man clutched his swollen cheek.
It was clear he had been struck in the face by the woman standing before him.
"Ow… you're not gentle, Mittelt. I don't think *your* Sanguinius would appreciate a violent woman," Azazel said, casting a half-hurt, half-amused glance at the culprit of his pain.
"Don't play innocent! You deliberately flew lower than me to sneak a peek at my underwear!" Mittelt retorted, furious but already starting to get used to it.
One thing must be understood: Azazel is a competent leader, and his teachings have greatly benefited Mittelt.
Unfortunately, this man has a major flaw: he's a pervert.
And not an ordinary pervert. After his separation from his heavenly father, he indulged in all sorts of carnal pleasures… and Mittelt's new appearance immediately caught his attention.
The favor Mittelt had requested, after completing her A-rank mission, was granted without issue.
Better yet, Azazel added an extra perk:
Not only would he give her advice on Holy Power and magic, but he would also keep her as his apprentice.
At the time, Mittelt saw it as an opportunity, thanks to Azazel's "positive" reputation among the fallen angels.
Today, with some hindsight, she slightly regrets her choice.
'I've managed to reach eight wings… but is putting up with this guy really worth it?'
This thought was becoming recurrent for Mittelt, as Azazel mentally exhausted her.
She had even warned him that she had someone in her heart, but the old fallen angel suggested… a threesome with Sanguinius.
A response that revealed the full extent of the current leader of the fallen's perversion.
"Lord Azazel, you should stop exasperating poor Mittelt. It would be a shame if she couldn't complete her training with her full potential."
A feminine voice interrupted the conversation between the two fallen angels. The one responsible for the interruption landed on the ground, facing the duo.
Benemune.
(Image)
She is the only female executive within the Grigori.
And due to her role as chief secretary, she is forced to stay close to Azazel.
Thus, she sympathized with Mittelt's plight.
'At this rate, Mittelt might quit her training with Azazel…' she thought, a scenario Benemune absolutely did not want to see come to pass.
As the only woman in the Grigori's upper echelons, she needed another person to relate to.
She saw in Mittelt the potential to reach ten wings, or even more.
A true gem, deserving to be polished and protected from external influences.
Azazel included.
"Okay, I won't do it again. But it seems we're running late."
Azazel's humorous tone vanished after Benemune's words.
Lucifer.
He had requested a meeting with Azazel to finalize the details of their alliance against the angels.
Normally, the fallen angels are the weakest of the three biblical factions, due to their low numbers and difficult reproduction (among themselves).
The angels still have their father by their side, so they don't yet face any real issues to manage.
As for Lucifer? He can literally create demons with his wife in case of an emergency.
Thus, Azazel had to actively cooperate to seal this agreement, even if he didn't appreciate his arrogant brother.
'Whose fault is it that we're in this situation?'Mittelt thought, but she didn't voice her honest thoughts.
The group set off immediately after Azazel's remark.
The destination: a neutral zone that the dragons had been forced to cede after an incident on Gremory territory.
The Baal clan had no interest in a destroyed zone and couldn't keep a dragon king's servant.
So they settled for requesting a withdrawal of the dragons' activity zone.