Chapter One: Worlds Apart
It rained the day that Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was laid to rest.
A solitary figure in a long red trench coat and broad-brimmed fedora stood on a hill in the shadow of a towering monument, looking down at the sea of black umbrellas below. Alucard was motionless, ignoring the rain dripping off of the brim of his hat and the hem of his coat. The ancient vampire felt a familiar sadness as he watched his most recent master being consigned to the earth. In more than six centuries of unlife he had watched countless humans be born, age and die. Losing the ones like Integra, the ones he let himself care about, still hurt. It would always hurt, but it was a cold truth of his world. Humans died, while monsters roamed the world until someone finally put them down.
Integra at least had not died young, like so many who fought for Hellsing. Millennium was a fading memory and the Hellsing Organization was stronger than ever. Integra had married and produced heirs in the years after the war, and lived to a ripe old age, bouncing grandchildren on her knee. She died surrounded by friends and family in her eighth decade of life. Her grown son and daughter were down among the sea of black umbrellas; Alucard's eyes picked them out easily. They were both strong and smart like their mother, and the future of Hellsing was safe in their hands.
Standing behind the pair was a short, stocky blonde woman in an orange uniform who had not aged with the passage of years as the other familiar faces around her had. Her beautiful face was expressionless, her red eyes hidden behind dark glasses. She held an umbrella over the Hellsings and watched Integra's casket being lowered into the ground. She was as solid as stone, his progeny. Their bond had faded over the decades as Seras Victoria left behind "police girl" and became a powerful, experienced Draculina, yet Alucard could feel her grief. She wasn't as used to watching the humans she loved grow old and die as he was, but she was strong. Burying Walter hadn't broken her, and neither would saying goodbye to Integra. Alucard felt her gaze rise towards him for a moment, finding him unerringly for all that he was hidden in shadow, and nodded to himself.
Seras Victoria was every bit the warrior the Hellsing Organization needed going forward. He hadn't had to intercede in a battle on her behalf in more than a decade. The soldiers who served Hellsing were more formidable than ever, and Seras was now one of the strongest vampires on the planet. Alucard knew in his heart that he was no longer needed. He had remained at Integra's side, for the love he bore for her as his master, but now that she was gone, Alucard contemplated returning to slumber. Integra's heirs would not deny him the sleep of ages. He was a relic of the past. Seras was the future. She was still young for a vampire and more adaptable than an old monster like him. She was engaged with the technology and politics of the modern world in a way that he was not.
A faint pop of displaced air sounded behind Alucard. Then a deep, rough voice cursed behind him. "Bloody hell vampire, why are you standing in the rain?"
"We're in England, Puck. It rains here," Alucard answered absently without turning around.
"I'm aware of that. Why are you out in it?" Puck complained, stepping up to stand beside Alucard. He was a short, portly man with chestnut brown skin. His head barely came up to Alucard's waist. Intelligent brown eyes looked out from deep beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows. His head was bald, but he sported a long white beard. He leaned on a staff of pale wood that was taller than he was. Puck wore a white suit and slacks with a black shirt, red tie and white leather shoes. He was getting soaked by the rain, and appeared unhappy about it. Noticing the funeral, Puck nodded. "Someone died?" The dwarf squinted down at the casket and then back at Alucard. "Ah; that would be the latest of the mortals you've allowed to hold your leash?"
A growl arose in Alucard's throat. "Careful, mage."
Puck, the First among those who wielded the primal magic of creation, chuckled. He extended his hand, and a fat, lit cigar materialized from nowhere. Puffing on it, Puck exhaled a cloud of smoke into the rain. "I mean no disrespect, Alucard. From everything I hear the Hellsings are exemplary mortals. I just don't understand why you still torture yourself this way. I know you care about the descendants of that man who defeated you, but watching them die one after another isn't healthy, even for the King of Vampires."
Alucard grimaced at the title: "King of Vampires". It was a job he'd never wanted or sought, but it was his simply because he was the oldest and most powerful vampire alive on Earth. It made him one of the First, the leaders of the various clans of "monsters" in the world. Together, the First were the closest thing to a governing body claiming sovereignty over the things that went bump in the night. In practice, they amounted to little more than a number of powerful individuals who worked together to eliminate any supernatural being who stepped too far out of line. If the threat from Millennium had been more than an internal dispute among vampires, the First would have gotten involved.
Alucard cared little for being the King of Vampires, and would gladly surrender the throne to another if there was an heir waiting in the wings. But all the vampires older than him were dead or gone, and none of those younger were ready for the responsibility. He watched as Seras and Integra's children shoveled the first few spades of dirt into the grave. "You may be right, Puck. But without pain, how do we know we're still alive?"
Puck shook his head. "That's the masochist in you talking. I get by just fine without punishing myself."
"I've been thinking about returning to slumber for a while," Alucard admitted. "The Hellsing Organization no longer needs me. It's time for a rest."
Puck was quiet for a while, watching as the gathered mourners began to disperse and the gravediggers started filling in the hole. "Any other time I'd encourage you to do just that, Alucard. We all need a long vacation from consciousness every once in a while. Unfortunately, something's come up, and we're the only members of the First who are available right now." Puck looked up at the vampire soberly. "There's one more battle that needs to be fought."
"You're awake, Puck. Can't you deal with it?" Alucard asked. He hadn't realized how ready he was to return to slumber until he spoke the words aloud.
The dwarf shook his head. "I can't leave the Eternal Road untended. In any case, this is a job for the King of Vampires."
"What's the problem?" Alucard asked with a sigh.
"Morfion's prison is crumbling," Puck answered sadly "it's going to fail soon, and then he'll be free to ravage the world we banished him to once more." The diminutive mage was ready for Alucard's explosion, and he wasn't disappointed.
Alucard's red eyes blazed behind his orange-tinted glasses, and his fangs filled his mouth. "How? You told me the warriors of that world sealed him away forever!"
Puck shook his head. "They did seal him away, and they tied the seal to the blood of the clan that created the seal. There were dozens of them there when they imprisoned Morfion, and it only takes one remaining alive to hold the seal. They should have had too many descendants to ever lose the bloodline entirely, but we may have underestimated the savagery of their culture. I've been feeling them die in droves over the last two decades, and now the last of them are close to death."
Alucard stared into the distance, remembering a time when he hadn't been one of the First, when there had been another King of Vampires: Morfion. His madness had nearly brought the world to ruin. Despising humanity, Morfion and his followers had attempted to exterminate the entire species. He had come perilously close to succeeding before the rest of the First had stopped him. Even once they'd subdued Morfion and slain his followers, the problem had remained that no one could find a way to permanently kill the original vampire.
Back then, the Eternal Road had been an newly discovered enigma. Puck and his magely brethren had known little about it, but driven by desperation they had used it anyways. The First cast Morfion into the void beyond the Eternal Road, believing it the only way to destroy him for good. It was only centuries later that the First discovered that rather than destroying Morfion, their actions had only sent him to another world connected to the Eternal Road. It could have ended in disaster, but the people of that world had managed to solve the problem of Morfion on their own, utilizing their unique brand of hereditary magic to trap Morfion in a frozen instant of time; an inescapable prison, at least as long as its lynch pins remained alive.
"Morfion is older than me, Puck; stronger. I don't know that I can defeat him alone any more then Millennium's whelps could defeat me. Can none of the other First be awakened?"
"I'm afraid not," Puck admitted. "The old wolf's slumber is the only thing that grants his children the self-control they need to live among the humans. I tried reaching the sidhe, but I can't even scry Arcadia right now. Either they all committed suicide like they threatened to, or the mists around the Realm Eternal are just particularly strong. Gilgamesh is still a stone statue and I don't know when or if he'll ever decide to rejoin us. That just leaves you and me."
Puck stubbed out the remnants of his cigar. "Alucard, we have to try. We… I inflicted our problem on their world out of ignorance, and it will consume them if we let it. I've been eavesdropping on them; they don't even seem to remember sealing Morfion away anymore. It happened so long ago for them that they're unaware of the danger." Puck looked up at the tall vampire seriously. "If you could hold the gate to that world open I'd walk through it and try to help them, but vampires can't manipulate the Eternal Road, so you have to be the one to go."
Alucard shook his head, but Puck saw the answer in his eyes. "The bloodline of the clan in that world who sealed Morfion away is fading," the dwarf continued, "but the others like them should be able to help you. That world's mages call themselves 'ninja', if you recall. They warred against and destroyed Morfion's spawn the last time he threatened their villages."
Puck waved his hands, and the rainy hill in England was replaced by a wide cobblestone walkway winding through an endless void. Stars danced slowly around them as Puck and Alucard walked the Eternal Road. "What were they called, again?" Alucard asked. "The family of mortals that sealed Morfion away, I mean."
Puck raised his hand, and a doorway appeared on the edge of the Eternal Road. On the other side was a sunny, vibrantly green forest. "What was their name?" he asked himself with a frown. Then the dwarf's eyes brightened. "Ah yes, Uchiha! They were called the Uchiha Clan. They were the only ones with the power over space/time necessary to freeze Morfion like that, so you're going to have to find a different solution this time."
Alucard sighed. "All right then. Wish me luck," he said before stepping through the doorway and vanishing from sight.
Sitting in the front passenger seat of the Hellsing siblings' limo as one of her men drove, Seras Victoria jerked in her seat as she felt something shift within her. Goodbye, police girl, Alucard's voice whispered in her soul. Then their bond faded like a morning fog in the sun.
Noting his commander's sudden movement, the driver glanced at Seras and was surprised to see a single red tear of blood on her cheek. "Ma'am, are you all right?"
Seras blinked and then wiped the drop of blood away. "Yes. It's nothing. Keep your eye on the road."
"Yes, ma'am."
Seras sat in silence, puzzled. She'd felt her former master's growing desire to return to slumber, but this didn't feel like that. It felt more like he had gone… away.
It was over. The Fourth Shinobi World War was over. Clouds roiled overhead and thunder rumbled as Naruto Uzumaki, panting and shaking, stood over the battered form of Madara Uchiha. Behind him, the pink-haired kunoichi Sakura Haruno plied her healing arts on the prone form of Kakashi Hatake, trying to keep him from bleeding out from a multitude of injuries including an empty, bleeding eye socket where his sharingan had once rested. Next to Naruto stood Gaara Sabaku, Kazekage of the Hidden Sand, his face paler than usual. His left arm ended in a cauterized stump at the elbow, vaporized by one of Madara's attacks. Miles away, Sasuke Uchiha and Killer Bee lay dead on the battlefield along with thousands of shinobi, samurai, resurrected warriors of ages past and countless clones of the strange Akatsuki known as Zetsu.
Madara drew a rattling breath as his blood soaked into the dirt. Incredibly, after all the wounds he had sustained, the man still clung to life. "It's over," Naruto told him, eyes blazing with the power of the Kyuubi, the Nine-Tailed Fox imprisoned in his soul. It was scary how close Madara had come to his insane dream of enslaving the world. In the final battle he had defeated Killer Bee, the host of the Eight-Tailed Beast. But despite all Madara's efforts, Naruto and his allies had finally beaten him. "The world has united against you and won," Naruto continued. "There will be peace."
Madara laughed harshly, blood spilling from his lips. "You may have won boy, but you will never know peace! You don't know what you've unleashed this day, but you'll find out soon. I am the last of the Uchiha, and the only one who remembers the curse. You will regret this day. Remember that I offered you paradise when your world becomes a living hell!" Madara died laughing, his death rattle heralding the end of the tyrant.
Just as Naruto relaxed, Marada's body shuddered, and his coat and uniform were shredded from within. Silver light erupted from his chest, and Naruto saw a seal carved into his chest evaporate in an instant. The silver light coalesced into a large bat that shot up into the air before taking wing, flying to the southwest at incredible speed.
"What was that?" Sakura yelled.
"I don't know…" Naruto replied. He glanced at Gaara, who shook his head, clueless as well. Then the Kazekage winced and fell to his knees, shock from the loss of his arm hitting him as adrenaline from the battle faded. Sakura finished stabilizing Kakashi, and then headed over to tend to Gaara's wounds. Naruto just looked to the southwest where the silver bat had faded from view, troubled by Madara's ominous final words.
When the disorientation from stepping off of the Eternal Road faded, Alucard looked around, getting his bearings. The forest was pleasant and sunny, and the vampire grimaced, seeking the shade of the trees. To the east he could see violent storm clouds.
Something felt… different, and Alucard blinked when he realized that his beloved coat, suit and fedora were gone along with his guns. "Right," Alucard muttered with a grimace, "forgot about the prohibitions of the Eternal Road." No one was allowed to carry items from a more advanced world into a less advanced one unless they existed there, too. His oversized handguns and manufactured clothing would stay in limbo on the Eternal Road waiting for his return.
In the place of his old garb, Alucard found himself wearing the uniform he'd procured to blend in the last time he'd visited this world to check on Morfion's prison. His garb consisted of round dark glasses, a hooded red cloak that fell to his ankles, and underneath it an open crimson flak jacket over a long sleeved black shirt and trousers. His boots at least were mostly the same, though the leather was hand-stitched and the metal in the soles forged. It was garb similar to that worn by the local magic users, the "ninja", and served to signal that he was not someone to be trifled with. The only piece of a ninja's garb Alucard had foregone was the armored headband that declared one's allegiance to a specific ninja village.
Leaping up into the trees, Alucard that forest village of ninja had been the last time he visited. He kept his pace casual, not wanting to reach it before nightfall. As memory served, ninja were rather perceptive for mortals and hostile to uninvited guests. He wanted to have the cover of nightfall before he snuck into their village to see what had changed since his last visit to this world.
What was it called? Alucard mused to himself. Oh yes, the locals called it the Village Hidden in the Leaves; Konoha.
In the far south of the Land of Fire there was a forested valley deep in the mountains. The elevation and year-round precipitation conspired to shroud the valley in fog almost perpetually. Few people lived or farmed there, and it was remembered in the local superstitions of nearby villages as a cursed, haunted place.
One of the few settlements in the region was an ancient shrine that overlooked the fog-shrouded valley. It had been given the foreboding name of Deathwatch Temple, and the monks and priests who lived there were a solemn and forbidding lot. On the grounds of their temple and in the valley below they grew a number of rare herbs, spices and mushrooms that needed the cold, damp air to thrive. They did a brisk trade with shinobi and merchants alike, their main connection to the outside world. They rarely spoke of their mission, though they had never forgotten it, as the rest of the world had. Passed down from one generation of priests to the next was the truth of their vigil. Their task was to watch over the valley, and ensure that if the great evil sealed away so long ago was ever to return, the ninja villages and ruling daimyo would have warning. In their scrolls and tomes was recorded the truth of the distant past; the rise of the dead who walked and the immortal monster who commanded them, sealed away so long ago. After so many generations few of the men who served the Deathwatch Temple believed the great evil would ever return, but they kept their vows and kept watch.
Touzen Akira, High Priest of the Deathwatch Order, walked the upper balcony of the shrine, enjoying the fading rays of the evening sun. He had almost completed his stroll when a flash of silver light from the north caught his eye. Frowning, he turned to watch a streak of silver light arc over the mountains with incredible speed. The old priest's eyes widened in shock as the light plunged down and struck the ground far below the temple. The whole valley was bathed in silver light, and a powerful wind sprang from nowhere to disperse the lingering fog. In the blood red light of the setting sun, Akira, the 59th High Priest of Deathwatch Temple, witnessed the reversal of the event described in the temple's oldest scrolls. The silver light coalesced around a spot halfway down the valley, covering the ground from the river's edge up into the hills. Then the pool of light began to rise into the air, defining as it did so hundreds of buildings, most collapsed or heavily damaged by a fierce battle. When the light faded, there was an entire village in the valley below.
Akira felt the blood drain from his face. "The Village Hidden in the Grave has returned," he said numbly. The bells of the Temple began pealing as the other watchers noted the reemergence of the ancient horror. Akira's eyes picked out shadows moving in the phantom village below as the sun sank below the horizon. Shaking off his fear, Akira made his way inside the temple. The time had come for the Deathwatch to flee their ancestral home. Messengers had to be sent to every corner of the Elemental Nations. The daimyo and the shinobi had to be warned!
