A handful of years had passed since the war wrought its havoc on England and things were beginning to settle. The scars would remain among the land and it would forever be haunted by the very event that would no doubt go down in history. Still, things were better and buildings were being reconstructed. Hellsing wasn't quite in ruin anymore; though it certainly still had a ways to go before the manor could be entirely repaired. Only two inhabited the dilapidated structure; a Draculina and a knight. The days were long and tiring, spent mostly on filling out contracts to file for repairs and express damage reports back to parliament. In return, the nights were better spent in Seras's company where they picked up smaller things here and there, conversed idly, and otherwise sat in silence. They had grown considerably closer with the absence of commotion or familiar beings to romp around the estate's grounds and corridors. Both were victims of loss, and had somehow connected on a much deeper level than either of them had honestly expected.

It was night, and the hour was late; far too late for Integra to still be awake. She lay in bed, slumbering as peacefully as one could manage after all of the events endured. Seras however, was up and about, roaming the still broken and crumbled wing of the manor. There was tightness in the blonde's throat and she braced a gloved hand on the nearby wall. Part of it shuddered and a few, smaller pieces fell to the floor. She remembered this corridor specifically, and it hurt. The moment she started to feel weak and upset however, something stirred within. It was still a strange sensation; but it filled her with an overwhelming amount of happiness, relief, and something familiar. He was reassuring her and letting her know that he was still there. Turning, Seras started back to the sub-levels of Hellsing to return to her coffin. She wanted to sleep and maybe spend the day with Sir Integra. After settling down to rest, the young woman was quick to fall asleep. It seemed she was tired more often than not. Not too long after closing her eyes and succumbing to sleep however, she turned and twisted her body in discomfort. Behind closed eyes, Seras was reliving the war; and not just one scene. Every instant of it passed by – the Wild Geese with the illusions, Pip saving her after being blinded, running that bitch's face along the wall for killing him, seeing Walter with Millennium and hearing the pain in Integra's voice, seeing her Master consumed in flames and nearly defeated, and everything. But there was something new, and for some reason, she couldn't quite pick it apart from the rest.

What she was seeing however, was no treat and it wasn't reassuring in the least. In fact, it suggested that their minor victory was actually a greater and complete loss. Millennium had managed to temporarily rid of Alucard, causing him to disappear; and now, now Sir Integra was… A pool of platinum blonde hair fanned around the director like a halo, and the front of her attire was stained red – sticky with blood. There was a bullet wound to the director's left eye, but the primary area of damage had been received when a part of the zeppelin gave way due to outside debris and crushed one side of her. Seras hadn't recognized the situation and moved in time to save her, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. Integra's chest wasn't rising and falling, and there was far too much blood to even suggest survival. A blood-curdling scream tore from the Draculina's throat as she threw the large canon away with her only arm. She was alone now – Hellsing didn't have any survivors, Millennium had been eliminated with Walter among them, Alucard disappeared and she wasn't about to go to the Iscariot. It was then with a shuddering and unnecessary breath that the vampire woke from her nightmare. Completely overwhelmed with fear, Seras hastily removed herself from the coffin and made for the upper levels. In her panic, she didn't bother knocking and burst into the Englishwoman's room, scouring every inch until her eyes came to rest on the older blonde's form. She had previously been asleep, but now started to straighten herself into a sitting position, peering through the dark at the Draculina in confusion. Seras approached and perched on the edge of Integra's bed before hesitantly drawing the blankets away to peer at the director's torso. No blood. She let out an exaggerated breath and practically slumped over.

Lips had parted to scold and otherwise question the young woman's sudden force of entrance; but instead, she silently moved over. Without a word, Seras slowly made to curl up beside Hellsing's heir and offered a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry, Sir." A gentle look was given and a small nod. Integra understood, as her dreams were often plagued by similar events. "It's alright, Seras." A peaceful silence fell between them like a blanket; but after a few moments, Seras posed the inquiry that had still been on her mind. It was done so out of curiosity and concern. "Does it still hurt?" Integra thought on the question before turning her head to peer at the vampire. "A little." Rather than asking any other questions or giving a reply, Seras made a quiet hum and settled next to her friend. Soon enough, both of them had fallen asleep; this time, it was peaceful.