What is real? Is real stepping outside, touching the trees, the buildings, the human forms in the immediate area? Is it all an illusion, or is it all this thing they call 'reality'? So, what is real?
Do the things outside a window actually exist? Does a world that will live on without you, really exist? Are the people and events that live and occur without you being present, only characters or traits of a setting you the main character are placed in, meant to interact and play off of based on your own will? Are they real? Are you real? What is real made out of? Is it a thing or a concept? What is it?
Or is it all a dream?
Such is the questioning of reality and the world that would enter the tired Hellsing mind when he witnessed one of the supernatural events his slave carelessly inspired every moment of the night the vampire continued his undead existence.
Is any of it real?
Is he real?
Is anything real?
Hellsing would ask himself, watching the slithering shadows that writhed similar to wild tongues of fire blowing against the wind while the vampire's black mane glistened in the moonlight. Alucard had anchored himself on the roof and now let his eyes gaze off into the full body of the moon. An iridescent glow consumed both the moon and the vampire, giving one the inclination to believe that the vampire was a being made from the moon's own flesh. Abraham watched from below, looking up from his balcony with his elbows and back leaning against the iron railing, to view the eerie sight.
It was beautiful because it was frightening.
And it was frightening because it was real.
He could touch that creature. He could order it to come to his side.
When it stood beside him, awaiting his command, he could command it. He could lock it away to become nothing more than a nightmare, or he could expose it to the world to see if the world was able to touch the monster too. All of the forces repelling off of one another, affecting one another, changing one another. Was the ability to do this the characteristic that determined whether or not something was real? All motions, swirling the haze of reality?
Maybe it was all just a dream. So he should sleep and see if the world returned when he woke up in the morning.