Gabriel POV

A week, a week has passed and Integra still has me cooped up in an interrogation cell. They've hooked me up to a lie detector twice, perp sweated me thrice and had four different psychoanalysts examine me.

I still haven't even been put through the selection process yet, not that I'm worried about that, should be a breeze. I'm more worried about the girl, Seras, she'll be waking up soon. Integra will have to let me out then. I rub my eye… anyway.

I hear the door opens and the butler enters with a sheet of paper, "Mr. Dornez, what can I do for you, this fine day, or night, what time is it actually?"

"Sir Integra wishes to speak with you, you're to move into the trainees barracks to begin training along with Ms. Victoria, when she wakes." Walter places a sheet of paper down in front of me, I snatch it up and begin to read it over, a grin spreading across my face. "You're free to go, I wish to formally invite you into the Hellsing Training Program." He offers his hand

I take it, "It's an honour, now could you please show me to the infirmary, I would like to visit Seras."

"Of course, this way," He leads me out of the cell and up the corridor.

On the way to the hospital wing Walter describes the present situation, how they've encountered more demonic foes, and how vampire activity has dropped off into oblivion. Hellsing has been keeping a cap on things, but it's about to blow off completely, even with my advice. I suggest (for the third time already) that I can use magic as a means to bolster the troops fighting ability, bring them much closer to that of the demons. Walter says that Integra considers it necessary, but that it will have to be ratified by the Round Table, the ominously vague council that seems to oversee all of Hellsing's activity. Sounds like they're more into tradition than killing shit, bad stance when your organisation is dedicated towards killing shit. The Templars did get swallowed up like this once or twice, but that invariably to the organisation taking heavy losses and a major reshuffle and reorganisation taking place.

Eventually we reach the infirmary, or rather hospital. It's contained within its own building on the far side of Hellsing Estate. Beyond that it (of course) has the latest in medical toys, and that's about it. Same white walls, same toxic smell of disinfectants, same stagnant air, and same pattern of doctors and nurses going about their daily duties. Several personnel stop to have a good gawk at me as we pass. He leads me to a single-person ward where Seras lies in her coma.

"How has she been?" I ask as I look in through the window.

"Life signs have been normal, brain wave activity has been interesting, a lot of very erratic readings, lots of REM, far more than a normal human is capable off. There is one other think of note; her cells have been altering themselves at a genetic level and she shows no outward signs of vampirism." So this place has a connection to Limbo.

"That's normal, that's the new found power normalising in her body, the cells are rewriting themselves to accommodate the magic her body must now bear. I wouldn't be concerned. May I enter?"

Walter nods, "You may." I open the door gently. I observe the myriad tubes that leave her body and run up into the many machines that are keeping her alive. I check the marks on her neck, they've all faded to nothing, excellent. Just then her eyes flutter open and she moans, then jerks when she sees me by her bed staring down at her. I place my finger to my lips and look at Walter, who then dashes away to find a nurse.

"Where, where am I?" she asks weakly.

"The medical facility of the Hellsing Agency, you were brought here after you went into a coma-"

"You had something to do with that," she interjects astutely.

"Yes, do you remember the priest biting you in the neck?"

"Yeah…"

"What happened next?" Let's see how much she remembers.

"I remember you sending your hand through my chest," I nod, "then I felt… something awaken inside me and a rush of something I can't describe it."

"It's okay, no one can, the soul communicates through abstractions that are beyond mortal linguistic comprehension. What you felt was your soul awakening to its fullest, it 'told' you its name, and you gained incredible power from it. It was the only way to cure the infection that priest was spreading."

"What kind of infection?"

then

"It was-" Walter, a nurse and… Sir Integra enter into the ward, "vampirism."

Seras gasps, "They're real?"

"Yes, and an ever present threat to mankind. Look I'll explain the rest in due course, you need to rest, think about what I just said. When that's settled in, We'll take some more, okay." She nods meekly. I leave the room and the nurse enters

Integra gives me her usual indifferent stare, "What have you told her?"

"Just what happened, where she is and that vampires are real."

"That's all?" Integra cocks an eyebrow.

"She's still quite weak, however the worst is past, in a day or two she'll be fit for duty."

"Very well, I'll alert your drill instructor that you to begin training today," Integra says authoritatively.

"Did the plans change, mademoiselle?"

"Indeed, it seems that demons are our new worst enemy. You say you can stop them? I need to know your physical capabilities first."

"Of course I will be there ASAP."

About thirty minutes later I'm geared up in black tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt, in the firing range with a variety of guns in front of me and a grizzled instructor standing to my right.

"All right, let's what you've got. Start with the Baretta and work your way up. I do as he says and pick it up. I haven't used a firearm this small since Vietnam. I pull back the slide and aim it down the range at target outline of a human body.

I squeeze off a few, one to the head and two over the target. "Good shot," the instructor says with a smile.

I scowl, "I missed my target, I aimed for the chest." I line it up again, and I fire four shots in rapid succession, each hitting the heart with minimal spread. "Gotchya!"

"That was incredible…"

"About six hundred years live-fire practice makes the range a piece of cake. What's next?"

"The P90…"

"I always liked these."

This assessment drags on for the rest of the day, and by the end, my instructors were more tired then I was. We cycle through an obstacle course, always good fun, and an assault course, they even let me use my pistols, YAY! Then they drag me out to the woods, and make me do the uninspired physical, push-ups, squats, sit-ups, crunches, chin-ups, you name it. I maybe technically retired, but I still love my trips to the gym.

Later on that evening, after having a shower and changing into a Hellsing uniform I was furnished with. Currently I stand before Integra's majestic desk in her cavernous private study. I cast my eyes around the room, with a sad feeling. Great bookshelves line the walls… no fair. "Gabriel!" Integra snaps

"Pardon me," I bow, "I couldn't help but admire your collection."

I get a small smirk, "Thank you, it has taken many years to create it. Enough small talk, we have business to attend to. You seem to have passed all tests with flying colours."

"Thank you, Sir Integra."

"In fact, only Alucard could outdo your results."

"I think that the selection process was… rather rushed, not to sound condescending, but… I found little challenge in a shortened test for normal humans."

"Indeed, the normal three day course had to be abandoned, recent events are proving difficult to control."

"I know, Walter said you guys were having trouble with keeping the peace. I should also explain my abilities and powers, and how far they go."

"Oh really, how far exactly?"

"To the point ending existence as we know it."

"And you casually carry this power around with you?"

"No, I have a system of magical restraints that prevent me from using my full powers all the time."

"Why?"

"Back home Templars couldn't use magic in the open, it would draw attention, not to mention cause excessive collateral, and property damage," Integra rolls her eyes as she lights up a cigar, "also as I said my full range of powers extends to causing the Apocalypse, I voluntarily bound my power into four restraints, labeled Alpha, Epsilon, Gamma and Omega, from weakest to strongest."

"Who controls these restraints?"

"I do, with oversight from my superiors, they leave it up to my judgement, however they don't approve of overkill. As a rule Alpha is for run of the mill missions like our friend from Cheddar. Epsilon is for combat with lesser-to-mid level angels and demons. Gamma is for when demons or angels attack in force. Omega fully unleashes my power, I can't stay in that form for long as it causes tears in reality in the surrounding area, but when it's required it will most likely be the Apocalypse."

"What are your powers to begin with?" Walter asks.

"You know about the regeneration, of which I have two 'lives' left, the strength and speed, plus the shield wall I put up. I can phase through solid matter and turn invisible, too, a school referred to as "Ghosting", these plus a couple of other spells are Alpha level. Epsilon grants enhanced versions, plus a limited form of flight and a few . Gamma allows me to summon my Host, and I gain the ability to conjure swords energy and use them as projectiles."

"Host?"

"My personal army of lesser angels, archangels are Yahweh's personal generals, when I defected, I brought the bulk of my forces with me."

"How many?"

"Current roster stands at ten thousand, however they can't all be in the same area for similar reasons as I can't stay in Omega form for long."

"And Omega?"

"I release all my power, nothing new, instead I gain the true extent of what I have. Pray that I never have to use it."

"Hmm, so the Templars valued these abilities?"

"Yes, if an archdemon shows up, another being go equal status is the only way to stop it, short of a nuclear strike."

"That goes for you too?"

"Sort of, my body can be destroyed, but I'll simply pass on, like any other soul, then I can come back in a new body after a century, roughly, then twenty-five years give or take, before I'm ready to fight again, or do anything else for that matter. Unless I release Omega, then your gonna need an archdemon or archangel." I feel bad for Integra, what with me talking at her with all this information. Though to my surprise, her usual collected visage is betraying a certain satisfaction, no smiles, no Integra is too… proper for that In her eyes, however, there is a glint.

"You might just be useful to us," Integra says with a dashing of approval. "Report to the barracks, you'll be under the command Captain Smith of A Company for now. I will decide on a more permanent position for you after a few missions, based on recommendations of Captain Smith, and your performance, understood?"

"With clarity, ma'am."

"You better report to your new Commanding Officer, there's been reports of a series of bloody murders, they al follow the same pattern, almost like they're sacrifices."

I salute her, "Understood, ma'am." I turn and walk out the door.

Three hours later…

"Gabriel, you're our point man for this," Captain Smith says in a thick Cornish accent.

"Understood, sir."

"You're with Squad Alpha, taking the front, Bravo is going through the back, multiple snipers are in position to eliminate any escapees that slip through your grasp." He's thorough. I look at the apartment building we're assaulting, plans indicate that there's a basement. Cultists are performing their rituals in that room, as far from prying eyes as possible. Crying shame that I can feel the magic being emitted. "There's a case in the APC with your name on it." I frown

I walk over to the boxy vehicle and find a very long case lying just inside the passenger compartment. I extract it and open it.

I can't help but smile, I pull out my rifle. I grin at it like child with their favourite teddy bear. My beloved Leviathan, an automatic anti-material rifle, proprietary Templar design, superficially derived from the XM500. Perfect for killing the supernatural. I dump the measly MP5/10 that Hellsing had given me and swap it for the Leviathan, taking the ten magazines that are with it.

I insert a magazine, and cock it.

CHACK—CHLACK, ohhh yeah, "I feel your hunger sweetheart," I whisper to it, with a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. God, how I missed you.

I hook up with my squad, my CO explaining the plan of attack, "We're heading into the basement, with the FNG," he notices my entrance, and with wide-eyed shock at the monster of a rifle in my arms.

"Private Gabriel Sinclair reporting for duty," I hold up my rifle, "you'll need the firepower."

"Eh, okay… did Sir Integra approve this?"

"

"Rules of Engagement?"

"No survivors." I nod, as it should be, those cultists threw their lot in with demons, they can rot with them in hell for eternity. The squad readies weapons and creeps up to the front door, my squad leader has his finger to ear, talking with Squad Bravo. "Okay, Gabriel, make the breach." I pull out one of my pistols and shoot out the lock and nudge it open. I switch the lights on and check my corners with inhuman speed.

Oh dear, fucking, merciful, Christ

drip… drip… drip… drip… drip

A pile of mangled bodies lies in the centre of the lobby, with their entrails and blood splattered across the room. I can see a couple of children among the cadavers, the agony of they demise forever carved into their faces…

Enough, need to focus. I head straight for the staircase to the basement with the rest of my squad. The magic is growing stronger with each passing moment, it fills the nose like the smell of death, almost makes one gag.

"Watch the walls, demons like having traps, buzz saws and chainsaws are particular favourites," I say, the others take my advice as the hallway turns from plastered walls, to a veined, almost organic stone, coloured deep crimson. The blood is dripping downwards in great globs and then returning to the ceiling. "What have they done here?"

"Magic, it bends the laws of reality, and can destroy it," I say over my shoulder. I can hear voices in my head, simple repeated phrases.

"What is that?" one of the soldiers asks.

"The ritual in progress, it's the demon language," I answer. I can see a large door approaching, and a groove in the wall. I hold up my hand and the squad stops. "What is it?"

"Trap." I say. I jab out the barrel of my gun into the path of a groove and a circular saw flashes through and bounces off the weapon. "See what I mean." We pass through it without hindrance to the door.

I nudge it open. The corridor beyond is radically different from the first one, "You are no longer on planet Earth, you're in a zone where Earth and Hell overlap." I can feel how everyone behind me almost seizes up, "Check your corners, keep your wits about you, and if anything moves that you can't identify as Hellsing, shoot it 'til it drops then shoot it again. Radios are also useless." I get several shckoed gasps, "Telepathy still works, better call this in." My squad leader gets on the

We creep along the corridor with our weapons at the ready. The organic stone shifts further and further into biological territory, the floor becoming slick with some sort of bodily excretion, the lights almost give way to dim torches. Flashlights flicker to life to compensate.

Eventually, soft growling chewing noises start echoing down the corridor. "What is that?"

"Something small, not exactly sure what," I say quietly. We continue onward towards the chanting and chewing.

A little while longer, my flashlight lands on a small, sickly, pasty humanoid body hunched over a human corpse. It's black stiletto fangs jut out at unnatural angles, with a blackish-purple tongue dancing over its hellish maw. "It's a homunculus. There's never just one, expect at least a dozen to come leaping out from the shadows." I say as I raise my rifle and blow it away with a single shot. Sickly green gore erupts all over the walls and floor behind it, which then absorbs it as sustenance. The soldier beside looks like he's about to wretch. I place my hand on his shoulder, I channel some magic into it. His skin gains a little colour and looks a little less morose. "Cheers, mate."

"No problem, this takes months, if not years to get used to."

"Eh, Sergeant, what's that?" Clattering and scuttling come from further down the corridor. We all raise our weapons…