During the Devastation of Baal, the populations of Baal Primus, Baal Secundus, and Baal itself were gathered within the Arx Angelicum. After the war ended, many did not leave. Instead, they settled on the fringes of the fortress, inhabiting outer zones that had been excavated from beneath the desert sands to combat the Tyranid swarms. Driven by Dante's call and the Angel's return, the Blood Angels and their successor chapters spoke with one voice for the first time in ten thousand years. The Ninth Legion had returned to the world of men.
Tens of thousands of Astartes and ships large enough to blot out the sun brought not only power but demand. Ships needed docks, weapons needed maintenance, and supplies needed logistics. These needs created jobs, which, under Dante's arrangement, attracted more people. Docks were built, warehouses rose, and cities formed. Ultimately, because of Dante's role—he was the Lord of Baal, a title that remained even after the Angel's return—Baal became the heart of the Imperium Nihilus. As the Regent of the Dark Imperium and the practical ruler of half the Imperium, his administrative and military needs drew a massive population.
Under Dante's planning, an orderly city stretched out like the veins of the Arx Angelicum, covering nearly half of Baal. Unlike the chaotic hive cities found elsewhere in the Imperium, the streets, residential areas, commercial zones, and factories were meticulously organized. It was managed not by greedy guilds, but by a class of technocrats selected and trained by Dante. Living here felt like being immersed in order itself, so much so that when residents spoke of Dante, they often compared him to Roboute Guilliman rather than Sanguinius.
"Lord Dante is undoubtedly a son of Sanguinius, but he acts more like Roboute Guilliman than any Ultramarine," the residents of the City of Angels would often say with a hint of exaggeration.
Yet even with Dante's management, this new city felt crowded, and land prices climbed at a staggering rate. In the heart of this "prime real estate" district, near the core of the Arx Angelicum, sat a long-abandoned bar. No one ran it anymore; the original owner had passed away years ago and was buried in a tomb within the fortress—a tomb reserved for the mortals who fought in the Battle of Baal. The bar was called *The Blood Spear*. Legend had it that when it was on Asphodel, it was built beneath the spear-tip of a Sanguinius statue, hence the name.
Many older Baalites knew of the bar and the background of its owner. They knew why it had never been demolished: the owner had spent his life waiting for an old regular, and his will left the establishment to that person.
However, the new generation of Baalites knew little of the history. Seeing the lights flicker on and the bizarre slogans posted, their first reaction was fear. Following the teachings of Saint Doraemon, they knew that when encountering strange phenomena, one should head to the nearest Church of Saint Doraemon to pray and report it to the staff.
Upon receiving the report, the church staff quickly notified Tirus, a Blood Angel responsible for managing this sector. Tirus's father had been an "Old Baalite," and Tirus himself was among the first batch of recruits after the Battle of Baal. He knew the bar's history and was somewhat familiar with "the individual" associated with it. Tirus was fairly certain no Warp-entity would be stupid enough to cause trouble in that specific bar. It was likely an apparition of that figure—and if it wasn't, then it wasn't a problem he was equipped to solve anyway.
After a moment's thought, Tirus sent a Grade-1 Emergency Transmission to Regent Dante. However, the emergency queue was already at number 1,000+, meaning there were over a thousand urgent matters ahead of him. Given Lord Dante's legendary speed, it would take about thirty to forty minutes to clear them.
Tirus hesitated. He didn't have a higher reporting clearance, and while thirty minutes wasn't long, he didn't want to just sit around. He decided to investigate. If there was no issue, all was well. If there was, he could alert Lord Dante and call upon Sanguinius for aid.
Having made his decision, Tirus stood up and touched the teardrop-shaped container hanging from his pauldron. Most Blood Angels kept a drop of blood in theirs, but Tirus's contained the last drop of water from a purifier his father had built. His father hadn't been famous; he was just one of the many mortals who survived the Battle of Baal through courage, luck, and sheer persistence. To Tirus, his father possessed a certain greatness—a greatness that was quiet and ordinary. Before the war, he was a water seller. After the war, he remained a water seller, peddling water filtered by his homemade machines.
The only real change the war brought him was that Tirus left to become an Angel. Though "left" wasn't quite right; they simply rarely saw each other. Every four or five years, when Tirus was granted a rare respite, they would sit together. His father would share the cleanest bottle of water filtered that day. This continued until he was old and withered. On the day he died, Tirus filtered the last bottle from the failing machine, shared a final drink, and saved the last drop. His father had died in his arms, perhaps holding on just to see Tirus one last time.
Truthfully, this was untraditional—Astartes were usually expected to sever ties with mortal kin. But Lord Dante had permitted Tirus to visit his father. Tirus suspected he knew why. He had inherited a sharp perception and a special intuition from his mother's side—his grandmother had been a famous Tarot reader. Lord Mephiston considered it a unique psychic talent passed down from the bloodlines that had once adopted Sanguinius. Tirus's intuition told him that Dante likely had a mortal father he could never visit, and he didn't want Tirus to live with that same regret.
But sometimes, Tirus disliked his gift. He was too sharp—sharp enough to understand things that shouldn't be understood. For example, standing before the tavern now, reading the slogan: *"Sanguinius Brand Meat Sauce: Hammered a Hundred Times for a Firm and Delicious Texture."*
He took a deep breath, suppressing the surge of emotion within him. While the Black Rage and Red Thirst had been largely brought under control following the Angel's return and the integration of the Red Angel, Tirus sensed the meaning behind the words. He understood what the "meat sauce" referred to and what the "hundred strikes" meant. Even without the Black Rage, the vision of Horus killing Sanguinius flashed before his eyes. It was provocative. Suppressing the complex emotions stirred by the sign was difficult.
Tirus reached out and pushed open the slightly rotted door. A bell that hadn't rung in decades let out a crisp chime. Promethium lamps hung on the walls, crackling as they burned. The flickering flames within the glass cast a warm, cozy glow over the bar. The light glinted off Tirus's crimson power armor and the crystal teardrop on his shoulder. He removed his helmet, choosing to observe with his own eyes.
*The eyes can see the truth.*
The phrase from his grandmother's stories echoed in his mind. With his inherited Baalite eyes, he saw the figure standing behind the counter at the far end of the bar. Moments ago, through his tactical helmet, he hadn't seen this figure at all. The helmet was a machine, and the machine-spirit within it did not dare to render this image.
"Lord," Tirus said, extending a hand in a gesture of respect.
The figure slowly looked up, studying Tirus. A pair of deep, dark eyes made Tirus feel a bit uneasy. Something was... not quite right. Tirus sensed it instinctively but couldn't name it.
"You recognize me?" the figure asked.
"I saw you once, when I was still a mortal." Tirus felt tense—the kind of tension he only felt when Lord Dante spoke in a somber tone about a mission that *must* be handled. He was facing a divinity... no, more than one. The divinity within this being was not singular.
"Oh." The deep black eyes shifted slightly. "Back then, I didn't look like this. I was quite thin then."
Indeed, the figure hadn't used this face back then. He had appeared as a man in a plain yellow T-shirt and glasses, with short hair, calling himself Neoth Nobita. *Neoth*—in High Gothic, it meant "New." Though it felt slightly sacrilegious, Tirus had always thought this person's naming sense was on par with the Emperor's. Just as the Master of Mankind called himself "The Emperor," calling a new pseudonym "New Name" was... crude, ordinary, and obviously a fake.
"The eyes see the truth," Tirus said as humbly as possible. "What is inside you is the same as before. Only... it is more powerful, complex, and heavy."
"Your father—Yogi the Water Seller—how is he?" the figure asked.
"He has passed away. He died in my arms. His soul..." Tirus hesitated. Facing anyone else, Tirus could proudly claim his father's soul had returned to the 22nd Century or the Golden Throne. But with the Lord of the 22nd Century standing right there, it felt strange to say.
"...Returned to the 22nd Century," the figure finished for him.
Tirus shuddered slightly. "Is that a fact, or..."
To Tirus's confusion, the figure hesitated as well. After a moment of silence, the figure said slowly: "It is a prophecy."
*Prophecy.* Tirus chewed on the word, trying to understand the deeper meaning.
Just then, the door behind him swung open. The bell chimed, followed by the sound of footsteps.
"Could you please move aside for a moment?"
"Ah, yes." Tirus instinctively stepped away and turned. He saw a flash of gold—golden hair, golden armor. A massive bloodstone, shaped like a heart, was set into the chestplate, with four smaller crimson stones set above it. Tirus knew their meaning: Baal, its two moons, and Terra, the homeworld of humanity.
His gaze moved upward to a face so beautiful it seemed unreal. Golden eyes looked down at Tirus. Covered by the shadow of those white wings, Tirus looked at the large bucket of meat sauce in Sanguinius's hands and struggled to keep his composure.
"I brought a bucket of meat sauce. I also asked Lady Lena and Lady Jeanne to come help," Sanguinius said, looking at Alexander with a smile.
Lena, dressed in a Cadian uniform, shook a bottle of wine and various spices. "I got a recipe for stewed meat sauce from White Deer. He's a Ratling—he knows cooking better than anyone."
"I predicted she would accidentally buy Baal wine instead of cooking wine, so I contacted Professor Ahriman through the Warp and got a few bottles of Prospero wine," Jeanne said, clutching the bottles.
The figure behind the counter looked up, his gaze changing significantly.
Tirus finally realized why the figure's gaze had seemed strange before. It had been the gaze of someone in a dream, or in deep sleep. The figure's intellect was so vast that even while dreaming, he appeared more lucid than any mortal.
He had been dreaming... dreaming he was a mortal, a bar owner. Tirus vaguely sensed this semi-lucid state. Sanguinius's arrival had awakened him.
"Tirus," Sanguinius's voice rang in his ear. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but could you please tell the people outside that the Blood Spear is officially open for business? Tell them Alexander and Sanguinius are here selling wine and meat sauce."
Tirus was stunned for a second, but his training and instincts took over. "Yes, my Lord."
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
Outside, the curious residents of the City of Angels were gathered in crowds. Ever since Sanguinius had entered the bar, rumors and stories had been flying. Yet, the crowd still looked at the building with fear and hesitation.
Tirus took a deep breath. Other Blood Angels might not know how to handle this, but Tirus had grown up selling water in the streets with his father. He was an expert at this.
"Listen up, neighbors! The Blood Spear is now open for a grand celebration! Sanguinius's hand-beaten meat sauce, fresh and ready for sale! Don't miss out!"
"One time only! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Not only can you get close to the Great Angel himself, but you'll have the honor of tasting meat sauce he made with his own hands! What are you waiting for? Do you want to live with regret?"
"Don't you want to tell your children when you're old that you once ate meat sauce made by Sanguinius?"