In the beginning it was a pleasant surprise to experience reproduction through the biological mechanism. Not for Death, but most of his kin seemed happy enough about it.
Gone were the days where Nephilim had to be created by mixing parts of Angels, Demons and little bits of Absalom himself. There was the possibility to selectively breed powerful Nephilim.
There were, however, a few drawbacks with having younglings around. One of them was how slowly they developed. They may outgrow their infancy stage quite fast, crawling for a very short time before they started walking and talking. But the amount of time until they grew into an adult was ridiculously large. In this time Death could have created an entire army of Nephilim by himself! Well, maybe half an army but still.

Society changed with the existence of Nephilim younglings around and the establishment of caretakers was of utmost importance than it was already. But it was not like there weren't any caretakers existent. In the past they used to create fellow Nephilim manually. The resulting newborns where in an adult body and could actually be sent out to fight. They were somewhat intelligent and social enough to talk to. But the convention regarded that the newborns would spent some time with the elder, which were suited to be caretakers. This way it could be ensured, that they wouldn't lack in intelligence and -more importantly- combat abilities.

Death, in contrast to his name, was one of the favored ones to take care of new life. He was a dutiful caretaker and a demanding teacher, which made him more than capable of raising young or freshly born Nephilim. His lack of ability to show any kind of affection, turned his protégés to cold fearsome warriors just like himself.

Though, being very well suited to do something and actually wanting to do it were two very different things. But Death felt to some extend responsible for the community and relented nonetheless. Especially after a long rant from Absalom about how all of them should do their part to contribute and help the society to rise and finally be able to establish a place in Creation.
This speech dragged on and on until Death just agreed in favor of never hearing that patriotic nonsense again.

They were a close community indeed, even Death couldn't deny it. To others the Nephilim appeared to be a barbaric and ravaging race. Truth be told, whenever they claimed a realm for themselves or tried to rob other creations from their technology, they were indeed fearful and terror inducing conquerors!
But among themselves they would act differently. Treating each other with respect and caring for the ones in need was a daily routine and as natural as the rising of the sun. And being the close community they are, they cared and provided for the newborn from biological creation, too. It was a serious topic as there were no parents to take care of them, like most of Creation had.

It should be known, that in the Nephilim race bonding and breeding were two completely different things.
Bonding was for a lifetime. Sharing a bond meant commitment, love, respect and trust. It was unique and absolute. Once a bonded has passed, the other won't be able to share another connection. The pain over the loss would become nearly unbearable, scarring the remaining bonded one forever.
One would think there weren't a lot of bonds shared in the Nephilim race as it could result in too many lone and solitary individuals. But the opposite was the actual case.
The remaining lost Nephilim from a bond were more determined to help in the community, especially the pairs who are still connected. No one wished for another to experience the same tragedy and none would leave a lost one behind to their misery.

But for Death bonding was never a thing. Not many did understood his decision. There were always people trying to advance on him, but he shot them all down, male or female, without even a second glance.
He tried his very best to appear obnoxious and repellent, so none would bother him more than necessary. And still there were people attempting to flirt with him or to seduce him. All of them exceptional in their field of expertise and outstanding warriors. They were excellent matches, every single one. But the Firstborn couldn't care less.
From Death's point of view bonding caused only trouble. He could foresee useless attachments, confusing emotions and unnecessary drama, which were the last things he wanted. Also he saw himself not fashioned for relationships at all. He always did what he wanted and never listened to others. If anyone tried to bond him he'd just run away. Not literally, it was just a figure of speech.

After biological birth was found, natural breeding became a topic. Breeding itself was done to contribute to the Nephilim race. Two individuals -in contrast to bonding there had to be one male and one female- would be chosen depending on their skill level in either magic or strength, to create new live. It was actually considered an honor to be selected as a Breeder.
Of course it was also possible for bonded people to bear children out of love - Death would always scoff at that term. If the child was born it could be raised by its own biological parents or could be handed over to one of the many nurseries. But if it showed promise, the newborn ought to be given to the Board of Elders. There it would be judged and a suitable experienced Caretaker among them would be given the right for the child.

The Board itself could be seen as highest installation in the Nephilim society and consisted mostly of Firstborn Nephilim. There were also a few of the following generations, who earned the right to be there through hard work and countless battles. It was obvious that most of the members were older battle worn warriors, but there were also a few none combat experienced ones.
They were not scholars in particular, but people with a lot of knowledge, gained while mastering the art of different magics and foraging through old tomes. Then there where others who were experienced in battle strategies rather in combat itself and thus a high asset to the board.
The tasks of the board reached from sanctioning new laws over deciding which realm to conquer next to organizing the infrastructure. It was a broad spectrum of duties. Arranging the community in regard to choosing promising warriors or potential Breeders were also included.

It was a necessity to find suitable Breeders for reproduction. There was, of course, Absalom himself. But intelligence, quick thinking and swiftness were also important features to take in consideration.
And, how could it be any different, Death was chosen to be a Breeder, too.
He declined, of course, as he had his hands full already. Accepting to be a Breeder would mean more annoying younglings, which he had to probably take care of. That was something completely out of question for him.

Engaging in intercourse for breeding or bonding was one thing. Copulating with whoever pleased one's fantasies was, to be frank, just for fun. Death was certainly not someone, who was completely void of any physical desires but he rarely fulfilled them. The urge to lay with someone was simply not strong enough most of the time and, unfortunately, some individuals always wanted more than that. If he really needed to satisfy his bodily hunger, there were places one could go, where the relationship could be kept at a professional level.
And of course coupling with anyone meant anyone. It was amusing to see how other races would be disgusted by their deviant and sometimes incestuous practices. But really there is no difference, they all where descendants of Absalom one way or another. Calling each other brother and sister seemed to be the best approach, as they seemed to be all related somehow.

Younglings were also considered play material, which was downright horrendous to different races but not amongst them. It had always been like that and no one would frown upon. But for Death it was never a real option. They were inexperienced and clumsy and it was just not entertaining enough.
Nephilim children in the Firstborn's eyes were inconvenient in many ways. They are not able to protect themselves not until proper training, they were annoying and loud, they never listened to superiors and always try to test their boundaries. They needed a lot of caretaking especially in the infant stage and usually stayed with their Caretaker until they have reached at least their youth stage.
Still, they don't have only negative sides compared to the artificially born Nephilim, Death had to admit. They do take very long to develop, but in the long run they showed a better understanding of society and most of them were also better warriors. The Firstborn could tell by himself, as he raised both kind of newborn.

As much as Death hated to admit, sooner or later natural breeding will replace their whole reproduction cycle, it was foreseeable. The hard work in raising them showed it's fruits in their usefulness. But until then he helped conceiving the conventional way.
Through Magic!

Their 'mother' showed him and other magic gifted Nephilim how to create live of their own kin. Not the way she did, but in a similar fashion. In retrospect she was just benefiting herself with that, but Death could live with that or else he would have never met War.
A few millennia later and Death would be the only one -beside Lilith of course- knowing how to create Nephilim from a given mold... one of the many secrets he had to bear all by himself.

The day he first saw War and the last day he would ever help in creating Nephilim was a usual day for creating life. As usual as it could get. Capturing potent demons and angels alike, then dragging them to their stronghold. Draining angelic and demonic energy, wrath and life force until nothing but dust was left. The process was tiring and lengthy, but worth every minute, as the life essences were needed for strong newborn.

On that day there were complications none had expected. Somehow that newborn needed far more wrath and energy than usually necessary. Was that a sign for a potent warrior? Maybe a magic wielder? Or even another Nephilim with an alternate form like Death and a few others?
It seemed this one would fit right into their rows of warriors already. But what to do with the demand of more energy? The Invokers and Death himself poured part of their own life essence into the slowly awakening Nephilim.

The Firstborn could remember the feeling very well. The endless bottom, wanting to be filled with wrath and power and a strong demand for the very energy that kept souls going, hungry for more than it could possible handle. If he hadn't been careful the newborn had put a serious toll on him.
The process was lengthy and time consuming, it could have been mere seconds or long hours.
Right before Death gave in to channel his own reserves the newborn broke the connection by itself, surprising all of them. But the biggest surprise -or for Death, disappointment- was the result. It wasn't an adult Nephilim standing at his or her feet at full height. No.
It was just a tiny body on it's back, babbling cute noises.

Death and a few other Invokers, who weren't busy recovering, approached and the Firstborn lifted the small newborn. It was male and cheered happily at him. How disgusting.
It couldn't be helped but the newborn's appearance looked awfully angelic at first glance, in contrast to all of them. It had white hair, tanned skin and white shining eyes, but they were tinted in a light shade of blue. Yet the wings on his back showed the demonic side. They looked like leathered demon wings but were unfortunately horribly deformed. One was average sized but twisted in the wrong direction and the other was only visible as a stump. He would never be able to utilize those wings.
Somehow Death felt a slight nagging feeling that could be interpreted as pity for the newborn, but dismissed it immediately. It's not as if that lump of flesh would stay alive.

He sat it back on the cold floor and absently registered the unnatural heat in the tiny body. Death turned to the others, summoning his weapon Harvester in the form of a spear.
"What do you intend to do, Death?"
"Don't pretend you don't understand. You all can feel it, or rather, cannot feel anything, am I right?"
There was indeed no energy flowing from this infant, no sensible wrath level and it was even smaller than the natural born Nephilim. "So much work for nothing." The Firstborn spat obviously angered and raised the weapon.
"Wait."
Harvester's blade was only breaths away from the newborn. Death's piercing orange eyes looked to one of the Invoker, who dared to stop him. "Failures should be taken care of immediately.", he rasped dangerously.
"We can't be sure. Yes there is no sensible energy flow and he seems far weaker than anything up until now, but we should always see what might be.
"L-let us bring him to the Highpriests.". There were some Nephilim who had been deemed failures but turned out to be exceptional in their field. A blind one could sense enemies hours in advance. Another one was deaf but gifted with high healing abilities.
Death banished his weapon. "Do what you want. I'm not taking care of failure." Death took a short glance at the small bundle and walked out not showing the fatigue the newborn had caused him.

They decided to let it live.

...

Why me?
Death was silently regretting his own decision to relent to the Board's, Absalom's or all of his other superiors' will and take care of infant War. True he saw his potential as a warrior with his own eyes and he himself was probably the only one able to handle him, but that didn't stop the Firstborn from being annoyed by War's crying. There was a lot of time left until the child would grow into an adult and warrior. A long time Death was currently not eager to experience. Later he would disbelievingly shake his head at how insensible he used to be.

Now the tired adult was slowly crawling to the edge of his bed, where War's crib was located. He slowly sat up and scooped the infant up in one hand. The Firstborn once saw how other Nephilim would put their own biological child on their chest to sooth them. He wasn't very fond of unnecessary touching but still tried said treatment a few days earlier with War and it worked like a charm. The child calmed down in record time and was now squeaking happily away.
"Yes, yes, shut up already." Death said showing his obvious annoyance. None the less he payed close attention that the bundle of flesh would stay on his chest and secured one arm around it.
Death may not like much touching but he also didn't like annoyingly crying infants. Preferring silence and not losing his hearing outweighed his discomfort in body contact.

"You are always crying waterfalls until I'm there. They should have named you Tears."
As Death was patiently waiting for War to fall asleep, he idly wondered if the child would ever be able to sleep alone. He really wanted the child to sleep in it's own room very soon.

The next morning he was supposed to go to one of the main healers to let them check on War's overall health. So he arrived there just in time to get yelled at.

"Where the hell have you been?! You were supposed to be here at noon, damn it! Now my whole schedule is completely out of order, because of you!"
The healer didn't even glance at him and just snatched War out of his hand.
"Hello Poison, it's nice to see you, too.", Death replied dryly. Then added, "Just look at it and get your work done."

"For Creator's sake, Death! He is not an it, he's an adorable little baby with adorable cute eyes, right?" The healer said the last sentence in an overly sweet tone to War and nuzzled her face against his. The infant, seeing how Death seemed to, at least, tolerate Poison, was now used to this treatment and squealed happily.
Poison was one of the very few people actually allowed to talk back to the Firstborn without being beheaded on the spot. And she was shamelessly exploiting that privilege. That didn't mean that Death had no meaning of standing his ground.
"This infant doesn't need pampering if it's supposed to be a feared warrior."
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Right now he is a tiny little cutie pie, who needs lots and lots of kisses, right?" She sat War on her examining table.

Death ignored the fact how disrespectful and impudent she was toward him and just exhaled heavily, her attitude regarding him and exaggerated sweet talking to the child clearly tugging on his nerves. It was impossible to beat some manners into her. But strangely enough she only seemed to be acting like this around him. Her behavior towards others was as respectful and normal as it could ever be.
"If you keep coddling him like that, I'm making you responsible for him turning into a coward.
"How can you say that! He is still a tiny little newborn." And to emphasize she lifted War up again just to present him with both of her hands in front of Death's face. Poison was about the same height as the Firstborn and indeed the child was still very tiny compared to both of them.
"He is also three decades old already.", the male Nephilim stated as a matter of fact and leaned against the door frame.

Seeing that she had no way of winning this argument and not wanting to deal with a grumpy Death, Poison, disregarding their previous exchange of words, said in a same matter of fact voice, "Wrath is by the lake with his newest trainee squad." with a slight hint of annoyance.
Without a word Death pushed himself off and walked out. All that affection Poison was displaying had made him feel sick. Before he was out of ear shot he heard tiny War babbling his incomprehensible infant noises including the misspelling of the Firstborn's name and the healer pretending to understand him.
"I know sweetie, big brother Deaf is so scary and so unloving. But worry not! Sister Poison will give you aaaall the cuddles you need to be a tall and strong and handsome warrior."
The Firstborn suppressed the very strong urge to scoff at that.

The lake was very close to the nursery Poison was located at. In fact it was just the hill down and Death could see Wrath already standing on the shore with his younglings playing in the shallow water.
He and Poison could be almost seen as good acquaintances to Death. Being a Firstborn he saw them grew into fine adults standing on their own feet and establishing themselves as important and well known individuals in the society.
Poison, a healer, head caretaker and also instructor was responsible to teach the children the most basic healing abilities. Those gifted in curing were taken to her advanced classes.
Wrath was one of the those, who were predestined for instructing younglings. He was responsible, he was humorous, he was gifted in teaching and he was incredibly popular with the young. And if he wasn't busy with giving lessons, he could be seen on the battlefield as commander and warrior.

When Death nearly reached the shore the other greeted him with a friendly wave of the hand.
"I saw you handing War over for check ups."
The Firstborn nodded, both in greeting and to confirm his statement. The shorter Nephilim turned to the few younglings in the water. "How is your new trainee squad doing?"
"Well", Wrath laughed, "This batch of little rascals looks quite promising."

They observed the dozend younglings running in the water, splashing each other and doing all silly kinds of activities young people would do.
Children are not able to focus on one thing for a very long time. Death found that tiring. They needed distraction now and then and always always need to use their seemingly endless energy somehow. Running, screaming or playing idiotic games involving physical exercises.
Whereas Wrath would just lead them to a safe place, where they could fool around to their hearts content, Death would usually drag his youngling to an outpost with weak demons. There they could be chased until exhaustion. It was the best combination of utilize their leftover energy and to let them learn basic survival techniques. Some say Death might be taking it a little too far, but it was not his problem if the children got hurt. It was their fault to be unable to learn faster.

"I'm actually hoping to have your youngling in one of my training classes once he is ready for it." Wrath's green eyes briefly flickered toward the Firstborn's scar on his right eye. "He seems quite promising, too."
"He is not my youngling. It wasn't entirely my decision to take care of him."
"Whatever you say. Besides," and now Wrath's uncanny friendly grin spread across his face, "War is so cute! With his tiny little hands and his huge baby blue eyes."

No, he is doing it again.
"Someday I'll have a beautiful woman and she will bear me a very cute child! Just like War! Maybe even cuter!"
Death turned annoyed away from the other. He came here to escape Poison's rant about how cute War was and now he has to endure Wrath's ramblings about how cute his would-be-child could be. He really had no luck today.
"You have to let me hold that infant later, so I can practice being a good parent."
"Forget it."
"Aw, come on. "

The Firstborn turned his head and looked slightly up, as Wrath was taller than him. "I'm not very fond of this child, but you won't get to hold him."
"Why not? You are as mean as Poison. She doesn't let me hold even one toddler in her nursery." If Death didn't knew better it looked like the battle worn warrior in front of him was pouting.
"She is well served by doing so. You have no sense of delicate work!"

The Firstborn was probably referring to an incident in the past, which was equally quite embarrassing for Wrath as it was rage inducing for Death.
A few centuries in the past Death actually wanted to teach Wrath a few basics in crafting because the other asked him to. It went horribly wrong. All thanks to the other's clumsiness. He had set Adamantite ore on fire. Adamantite. On fire. That was throughout history down right impossible!
Death's workshop nearly burned down to it's roots and Wrath was never again allowed to touch or even glance at any thing in the Firstborn's crafting place. Ever!

In contrast to that Wrath could nearly handle any weapon that was thrown at him. Even if he never seen it before in his life.
The universe worked in mysterious ways.

"Pah, you all see what a good father I'll be even without ever handling a toddler before."
"But beside from that, what do you think of that?" Wrath asked proudly showing of his blond stubbles on his chiseled face by smoothing his hand over it.
A beard?
"You are the most handsome Nephilim in this town."
Deaf to Death's sarcasm -or maybe already immune against- the tall Nephilim triumphantly barked a laugh. "With this I will find my wife who is surely waiting out there for me."
Sometimes the Firstborn wondered if Wrath was just an idiot, who was involuntarily calling on Death's barely existing pity to be his acquaintance. But then again Wrath could hold his ground against him in a serious sparring match, which was indeed an impressing fact on it's own.

They continued to talk about various things, or rather, the Firstborn making snide comments on everything the other had to say. Then Poison was walking towards them with a tiny War in her arms.

"That was fast."
"Of course. War is such a well mannered infant as opposed to someone else.", the healer eyed Death suspiciously.
"I have no idea whom you might mean.", Death said taking the toddler back from her.
"War's health is overall very good, but he is too small and lithe. What are you doing to the poor baby?", Poison sounded more than accusing.
"It's not my fault it develops so slowly."
"Angelcrap, you just have to work harder. Some children need more attention! So please f*cking do that!"

"But be sure to not work yourself to death.", the other male added.
"Thank you, very helpful advice, I'll take that to heart. What would I do without you people?", Death answered unamused as Wrath and Poison snickered away. War was cheering too, unknowing of what was actually happening.
"Tch."
These will be some long long years.

Author's Note:

Considering the Nephilim society I did a lot of thinking and trying to make some sense, so it could fit somehow in the world. I mean I can't even imagine how immortality feels like or to what extend the Nephilim grew in numbers. I think, in numbers, the Nephilim must be at least around a half of the angel or demon population. They went on full f-word fledged genocide war! And they fought over Eden, which was reserved for mankind. And there are a lot of people running around on earth.
So many Nephilim couldn't be possibly created by copying and pasting Absalom, right...? Or maybe? Well in fantasy everything is possible and everything can make sense, but somehow I couldn't believe this.
If there are so many Nephilim around, there has to be some kind of order and a little helping from the biological side.
Also Nephilim, like angel or demon or any other creature, live quite long. So long that I can't even picture it in any way in my mind. That's why tiny War being 30 must mean literally nothing for very long living beings, right?
In Darksiders everything is old or ancient, so I guess the guys must be pretty old.

I have the feeling to have gone completely overboard with my thoughts and original characters in this chapter. A lot of my personal Headcanons. I'm sorry if I bored someone to death. No pun intended lol.