Chapter 18: Predator and Prey


Hello all!

Thank you all for continuing to show such interest in this story. I could not be more grateful for the support that all of you have shown me for the past year and a half. The reason I bring this up is because someone asked me in a DM where I plan to see this story in the future. Well, as of right now, I hope that "Bloodstained Souls" will only be the first in a possible trilogy of stories. I do have future storylines already written down as a collection of notes, and I hope to fully flesh them out someday.

Also, it would be absolutely incredible to see fan art for this fic in the future.

But for now, let's discuss more immediate topics.

So, according to several of the replies last chapter regarding my question about the Beyond Resurrección forms of the Espada, it seems as though those transformations are a result of the characters fusing with the Hōgyoku. Is that correct? I would like to be absolutely sure before I potentially write such an element into the story.

I hope you enjoy the chapter.

AlucardsBro OUT!


(Karakura Town)

Isshin breathed out a heavy sigh.

How had things ever managed to get so complicated?

All he had ever wanted was to help shape a world in which his children would be allowed to make their own choices and chase their own dreams. As of the moment, Karin and Yuzu were both lucky enough to have avoided anything that might jeopardize that. His darling daughters were able to go to school and interact with other kids their age just like any other ordinary teenagers. Ichigo, on the other hand…

Honestly, the boy was way too special for his own good.

The son of a former Shinigami Captain.

The genetic grandson of the Lady of the Sun.

And the godson of the Crimson Satan himself.

No wonder he had attracted so much attention all throughout his life thus far…

Still, even though Ichigo's exploits in the supernatural world had caused him no shortage of migraines, Isshin didn't regret having him for an instant. He loved his son with all his heart, and he sincerely hoped Ichigo would actually get the chance to decide how to live the rest of his life without any outside influence or provocation. Unfortunately, that was highly unlikely. Amaterasu's possessiveness was legendary amongst those who knew Her well, and Isshin had an unfortunate feeling that She wouldn't be willing to let go of his son all too willingly.

Shaking his head, he poured himself another cup of coffee as he continued to wait for his guest to arrive.

Said guest was not someone who the Shinto Faction would appreciate being in Japan for an extended period, so Isshin had gone ahead and erected a multitude of concealment charms all over the house just to be safe. Hopefully, if the charms were as powerful as Kisuke claimed, they would prevent anyone with the ability to sense Spiritual Energy from seeing who was inside for at least two hours.

Raising his mug to his lips, the former Captain prepared to take a careful sip.

However, a sudden knock at the door stopped him in his tracks.

"Finally…"

Grumbling to himself under his breath about dusty old crows, Isshin set his mug down on the nearest table and rose from his chair. Crossing the living room quickly, he approached the front door and pulled it open, glaring slightly at the man standing on his front porch.

"You're late. I really can't say I appreciate that."

"Hey, don't be too upset," Azazel chuckled in response, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "I had to make sure I was using a teleportation spell that was weak enough to not be noticed by anyone too significant. In any case, I think I have some news that will be worth the wait."

Nodding in satisfaction, Isshin moved to close the door as his old friend entered the house. However, he paused upon noticing the additional young woman still standing outside. She had dark skin, and was dressed in a dark grey suit complete with a crisp maroon tie. Her long, dark pink hair fell down to her waistline, and her unwavering golden eyes met his own stoically. "Uh… who are you?"

"Hmm? Oh!" Grinning lopsidedly, Azazel smacked himself lightly on the forehead as if he'd forgotten something important. "Where are my manners? Isshin, this is my personal assistant, Ingrid Helknight. Don't worry, you have my word that she can be trusted."

"Hello, Captain Kurosaki," the woman spoke up, inclining her head respectfully. "Lord Azazel has told me quite a lot about you. I am humbled to be in the presence of someone who possesses your strength."

"Thank you…?"

"You are quite welcome. Might I come in?"

Nodding wordlessly, Isshin stood aside and allowed Ingrid to walk through the doorway. Closing the door behind her, he shook his head in exasperation and walked past his guests towards the living room. "Do either of you want something to drink?"

"Got any beer?"

"I would appreciate some hot tea."

Moving into the kitchen for a brief moment, the former Captain opened one of the cabinets and pulled out Masaki's favorite tea kettle. A light film of dust covered the appliance, prompting him to wash it off thoroughly before making any kind of effort to prepare Ingrid's tea. Once the water started to boil, he turned towards the fridge and pulled out a canned beer. Returning to the living room, he scowled upon noticing that Azazel had once again taken his favorite armchair. Chucking the can at the Fallen's head, he rolled his eyes when the easygoing man easily reached up and snagged the incoming projectile out of the air.

"Nice try."

Instead of bothering to respond, Isshin sat down next to Ingrid on the couch. "Your tea is brewing. It'll be done in just a minute."

The dark-skinned woman nodded pleasantly.

Picking up his own cup of coffee, Isshin moved his gaze back towards Azazel. "So, what have you managed to overhead?"

Cracking open his beverage, the dark-haired man took a decent swig before offering up a response. "Well, believe it or not, Ichigo is currently in the Underworld. My sources within the Gremory territory have informed me that Sirzechs himself actually ventured up to the Living World to ask the boy to come down for a visit."

Isshin felt like smashing his head into the nearest wall.

That ginger-haired idiot…

Whether the Crimson Satan realized it or not, Sirzechs' actions would have widespread political ramifications throughout the entirety of the supernatural world. Approaching Ichigo directly, especially during a time of such heated debate amongst the leaders of the different Factions, was basically equivalent to giving the middle finger to those who were unable to do.

Especially to Amaterasu.

Isshin had a very strong feeling that Sirzechs was likely still quite sore over the fact that he'd been legally forbidden from visiting Karakura Town for the past sixteen years. However, due to the fact that Ichigo had been in London for the past few weeks, Sirzechs now had every right to venture out of the Underworld to talk with him.

"Damn it…"

"You're telling me," Azazel chortled as he took another sip. "All of the major bigwigs have their panties all in a twist now. Zeus is threatening to wage war on the Biblical Faction, and Odin is just as royally pissed."

"What about Her Ladyship?"

"Amaterasu? Eh, you know how she is. She's been seething quietly for the past few hours, but all of that anger is bound to explode outward sooner or later. To be honest with you, I never pegged Sirzechs to be the kind to take such a gamble…"

"You think he's aware of the consequences?"

"Most likely. But you have to remember that Devils are highly prone to episodes of possessiveness and vengeance, given their basic nature. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say Sirzechs has been waiting patiently for the right moment to make a move towards your son, just to rub it in Amaterasu's face."

"That's a very dangerous game to play…"

"Oh, I know, trust me. This is why I hate politics."

Isshin sighed, reaching up to tenderly massage his temples. When he'd first suggested that Ichigo travel to Europe to work for Integra over the summer, he had never even imagined all of the trouble that might come from it. It had seemed like such an innocent idea at first, but in hindsight he supposed he should have seen all of this coming. Allowing his son travel outside of Japan went directly against Amaterasu's wishes, and suggesting that he go to the territory occupied by the Biblical Faction only rubbed salt into the wound.

It hadn't even been the first time Ichigo had been outside of the country, but Europe was honestly the worst place for him to go considering the long-term rivalry between Sirzechs and Her Ladyship…

"I fucked up."

Azazel snorted. "Yeah. I'd definitely say so."

Breathing out heavily once again, Isshin pushed himself into a standing position before trudging into the kitchen to pour Ingrid's tea. After turning off the stove, he listlessly retrieved a teacup from the pantry and filled it with the steaming liquid. Returning to the living room yet again, he handed the cup off to its recipient.

"Thank you," the dark-skinned woman said politely.

Nodding tiredly, Isshin prepared to sit down. However, before he could do so, his cellphone began to chirp loudly from within his pocket. Groaning loudly, the former Captain fished it out and flipped it open, holding it up to his ear. "What is it…?"

"We might have a problem…"

"Kisuke? What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I know you're busy, but I just figured I should let you know that the sensors I have placed all along the town's border have been activated. Someone is here, and they definitely aren't part of the Shinto Faction. My equipment registers them as a human, but they're moving way too fast to be completely normal. They're also making a beeline directly towards your house."

Eyes hardening, Isshin forced all traces of his previous annoyance out of his mind. If someone was attempting to make a move against him or his family, then they obviously didn't realize how stupid of an idea that was. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Of course. Do you want any help?"

"Just be on standby in case anything happens. Other than that, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to handle it."

"If you insist. Good luck."

The call ended, and Isshin angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket. Given the current circumstances, he wouldn't be surprised if someone had decided to try and use his daughters as leverage to force his son to join their group.

Like that was ever going to happen…

"Not that I would ever admit to eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear," Azazel commented. To Isshin's pleasure, the normally goofy Fallen also appeared to have also forced himself into a more serious mindset. Downing the rest of his beer in a single go, Azazel conjured up an orb of dark energy and incinerated the can. "Allow me to help you take care of this."

"I appreciate the offer, but if this bastard is coming after my family, then I need to be the one to put him in his place."

"I understand that, but we are your guests. It's the least we could do to pay you back for your hospitality."

Isshin didn't reply, and instead silently weighed his options. On one hand, there was a good chance that the incoming individual wasn't actually attempting to do something heinous. However, there was just as good of a chance that they were. His thoughts drifted up to his daughters, who were currently sleeping peacefully upstairs.

"Alright…" the former Captain finally relented. "We'll intercept them outside, and I'll let you handle things in the beginning. But let me warn you… if things get too serious, I won't hesitate to step in and put them to an end."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Azazel smirked, standing up and moving towards the front door. "Come along, Ingrid. Let's show this Soul Reaper how the Fallen deal with our problems."

"Yes Sir."

Rising obediently, the pink-haired woman followed her superior outside, while Isshin brought up the rear. Closing the door behind him, the former Shinigami reached into one of the pockets lining his jacket and withdrew a small green pill. Popping it into his mouth and swallowing, Isshin quickly felt foreign Reiatsu begin to flood his body. In an instant, his soul form was roughly ejected from his Gigai.

Looking down at himself, he brushed off his Shihakusho and tattered Haori before turning around to face the Artificial Soul now in control of his physical form. "How're you feeling, Kon?"

"Like a million bucks!" the lecherous spirit crowed happily, stretching his newfound limbs eagerly. "It's been way too long since I've been able to inhabit a human body. That jerk Ichigo would never let me do something like this on a regular basis!"

Rolling his eyes, Isshin couldn't stop himself from smiling slightly at the Soul's genuine enthusiasm. "Just make sure to stay here and keep an eye on the place. If you do a good job, I might just be able to get my hands on a few dirty magazines for you."

"Really?! You've got a deal, boss!" Kon grinned, snapping into a shoddy excuse for a salute. "I'll hold down the fort while you and your friends go kick some ass. Say, though… who's the pink-haired chick with the giant knockers?"

"I beg your pardon?!" Ingrid shrieked indignantly.

Chuckling, Isshin patted his Gigai on the shoulder. "I'll introduce you later. Don't let me down, alright?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Turning away, Isshin focussed all of his Reiatsu into his leg muscles and leapt up high into the sky. Landing on the nearest rooftop, he continued putting as much distance between himself and the clinic as possible. The unmistakable sound of enormous wings being unfurled assured him to the fact that his two companions were right behind him.

"So, I take it that you plan to meet this guy head on?" Azazel questioned, flapping his twelve, jet-black wings in unison. "It's a good strategy, but how can you be sure that he won't just ignore us in favor of heading straight towards your house?"

"Now that I'm in my natural form, I can accurately sense his Spiritual Energy and locate exactly where he is in the city," Isshin replied, leaping across a gap between several buildings. "We're headed in the right direction, and I actually think I know who we're about to encounter."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

The trio descended back into silence, and simply continued moving forward for the next few minutes. After a while, though, Isshin abruptly slid to a stop on top of a partially constructed hotel. Above him, Azazel and Ingrid merely hovered in midair.

"Where is our target?" Ingrid asked.

"Not far," Isshin replied. "In fact, he's almost here…"

As soon as the words left his mouth, a cloaked figure, heavily shadowed by the light of the moon, vaulted over the side of the building in front of them. Still in midair, the man reached into his overcoat and withdrew nearly a dozen glowing bayonets, before hurling them forward with the speed of a bullet.

Isshin effortlessly dodged the incoming blades.

Up above, both Azazel and Ingrid twirled around in the air while wrapping their wings around themselves. The bayonets harmlessly bounced off of the feathered appendages, and clattered to the concrete below.

"Anderson…" Isshin growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The Catholic priest rose to his full height, and returned the former Soul Reaper's heated glare with an equal amount of venom. Two more bayonets slid out of both of his sleeves, and he firmly grasped them in hand in preparation to deliver another barrage. "Isshin Kurosaki… words cannot describe how much I despise you."

"And here I thought we were finally ready for that tea party we've been talking about for so long."

"You don't get to joke, heathen!" Anderson roared furiously. "I stood by while you married Masaki, even though I knew the Lord would never have tolerated such a union. Masaki was happy with you, even though you did not share her faith, and that was enough for me at the time."

"Then why come for me now, after all this time? What's changed?"

"I've seen the impact that your parenting has had on young Ichigo." The grip Anderson had on the handles of his bayonets tightened noticeably, and Isshin prepared himself for the next attack he knew was to come. "Because of you, and the lack of Catholic teachings in his life, your boy has grown up to throw his lot in with Protestants and undead monsters. And now, unsurprisingly, I see that you too have chosen to associate with the vile likes of the Fallen…"

"I wouldn't be talking so high and mighty if I were you, Judas Priest." Dismissing his wings, Azazel landed on the rooftop directly next to Isshin. Despite the intensity of the situation, the Governor General casually shoved his hands into his pockets and smirked cockily. "After all, how righteous can your cause be when your God is dead…?"

"SILENCE!"

Another hail of bayonets was sent flying through the air, and Isshin prepared to dodge once again. However, much to his surprise, Azazel laid a calming hand on his right shoulder. "Don't worry, old friend. She's got this covered."

"She does…?"

The bayonets continued forward, but before they could reach their target, they were all suddenly shattered as a flash of gold swerved through the air. Blinking in surprise, Isshin looked up towards Ingrid, who was still hovering in the air above. A bright golden sword was held in her right hand, and she glared down at Anderson with a hatred unmatched by anything he had ever seen before.

"How dare you…" Anderson snarled. "Do you truly wish to impede my path, vulture?"

"I do," Ingrid replied icily.

A bright purple magic circle suddenly appeared behind her, directly between her shoulder blades. Engulfed in a shining light of the same color, her clothing morphed into something far more suitable for combat. Whereas she had previously been dressed in a pristine suit, she was now clad in a set of dark black armor.

The upper half consisted of a fairly revealing breastplate that extend down towards her hips, composed of feather-shaped plates pointing upward with a large metallic eagle on the front, leaving the tops of her breasts exposed, as well as most of her stomach. Her biceps were also covered by dark metal strips, and her gauntlets sported feather-like plates on their edges, similar to her breastplate.

Her waist was encircled by large metal plates, which were also highly reminiscent of feathers, that connected to a long metallic skirt. A pair of boots adorned her feet as well, and were partially concealed by her skirt. A neck guard and a metallic tiara also rested on her upper body, and each displayed additional feather-like protrusions. To complete the ensemble, a deep maroon cape with navy accents fluttered in the wind behind her.

"Damn…" Isshin whistled impressively.

"I know, right?" Azazel grinned.

Across the roof, Anderson did not appear to be as impressed. "Do you truly think such a vulgar set of armor will allow you to keep me from fulfilling my sacred duty?"

Flaring her eight wings out in a show of intimidation, Ingrid pointed her sword directly at the Exorcist. "I am certainly willing to give it a try."

Snarling, Anderson ran forward across the concrete and leapt completely over Isshin and Azazel. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out yet another set of bayonets and threw them through the air like missiles. The blades whistled loudly as they approached their target, and an ominous blue glow radiated from them under the moonlight.

With a single flap of her wings, Ingrid ascended higher into the air, and out of the path of the deadly projectiles. As her opponent prepared to reach for even more of his holy weapons, the dark-skinned Fallen Angel extended her left hand forward and positioned her palm as if she were pressing it against an invisible wall.

"Heaven's Lost Armory: Dance of Blades"

Instantaneously, another purple magic circle appeared on the palm of her outstretched hand. It rotated counterclockwise, and a sudden flash of light briefly obscured Ingrid's form from view. When the light died down, seven more golden swords were rotating in the air around her as if she possessed her own gravitational field.

Landing on the concrete, Anderson hissed. "Magic…"

For the first time since he'd met her, Isshin witnessed Ingrid smirk.

"An Artificial Sacred Gear, to be precise," she retorted. "It is truly an impressive thing to behold, is it not? Allow me to give you a demonstration…"

Releasing the sword in her right hand, Ingrid allowed it to join its brethren. Waving her arms through the air, it quickly became apparent that she was exercising telekinetic control over the golden weapons. Her open palms stretched outward towards Anderson, and her swords quickly followed along the same path.

Biting out a curse, the Exorcist leapt into the air and twisted his body in an attempt to avoid the incoming projectiles. However, unlike his bayonets, which were only able to fly along a straight path, Ingrid's blades were able to continuously move after their prey. Still, in an impressive display of agility for a man his size, Anderson somehow managed to avoid most of the blades without receiving too much damage.

Even so, he wasn't able to avoid them all.

Isshin watched as one of the swords carved a long line through the man's thigh.

When Anderson landed back on the roof, he unfortunately placed all of his weight on his newly-injured leg. Howling in pain, the gigantic Exorcist turned back towards to Ingrid to give her a wound in kind.

However, he was apparently unprepared for the female Fallen's speed.

In a flash of maroon, pink, and black, she sped forward and planted her left foot directly in Anderson's stomach. Spittle flew out from his mouth as he was propelled backwards, and over the edge of the roof towards the street below. Quick to follow, Ingrid flapped her wings and dove after him.

"She's strong," Isshin observed.

Azazel nodded proudly. "I taught her everything she knows. You want to go watch the fight?"

Rolling his eyes, the former Captain nodded. Stepping over the edge of the roof, he allowed gravity to carry him downward towards the continuing battle. If things continued to carry on in Ingrid's favor, then he might not even have to intervene at all.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to remain cautious.


Ingrid was well aware of who Alexander Anderson was.

Even in the Underworld, he was regarded as one of, if not the most dangerous Exorcist currently in the Church's employ. Still, he was only a mortal man, even if he did possess and admittedly impressive healing factor. Exorcists, while something to definitely be avoided by Devils and Fallen alike, usually only proved dangerous to those who were either too weak or inexperienced to deal with them properly.

And she was neither.

Ducking under an attempt to decapitate her, Ingrid pivoted on her right foot and brought her left one sailing forward. The top of it smashed into Anderson's right side with enough force to shatter concrete. Ingrid listened as several of his ribs broke under the impact, and the force behind the blow quickly sent him tumbling further down the street.

Thankfully, there was no one out and about to witness their battle.

Returning to a fully upright stance, Ingrid watched as her opponent crashed into a vending machine, sending sparks of electricity and cans of soda flying everywhere. He was bound to be in quite a bit of pain, but she knew he wouldn't be staying down for long. Regenerators were annoying like that…

"Surely, you must realize that this is pointless," she spoke up, fully expecting to not receive a reply. "You might be a powerful Exorcist, but I am an eight-winged Fallen. My level of power is leagues above your own."

A single bayonet flew towards her.

Casually, she waved a hand and commanded one of her swords to intercept it. "If you cannot hope to defeat me, then you truly have no hope against someone like Isshin Kurosaki. Your personal mission to slay him will only end in your own death."

Struggling to stand, Anderson leveled her with a disgusted scowl. "I wouldn't expect someone of your nature to understand. I continue to fight because I have faith that my Lord in Heaven will guide and protect me. If I carry out His will, then there is nothing I cannot do. You do not receive such grace, because you turned your back on Him all for the sake of Earthly pleasures."

Ingrid's eyes narrowed. Flicking her right index finger forward, she commanded three of her eight swords to fly through the air. "You know nothing about me…"

Running forward, Anderson fell to his knees and slid across the tarmac underneath the blades. Once he was out of harm's way, he pushed himself back into an upright stance and leapt through the air, pulling out another pair of bayonets. "I know that your kind is despicable. You lived in Heaven, with the Lord Himself, and yet you decided to betray Him. Such an action is beyond my understanding, but I do not care to know your reasons. All I know is that you deserve the death that is coming for you."

Willing two of her swords into her hands, Ingrid braced herself and blocked the Exorcist's overhead strike. His strength was commendable for a mortal man, but it was still paltry when compared to her own. Giving a slight push, she sent him flying into the air and into the side of a nearby flower shop. Glass and brick alike crumbled as he collided with the solid surface, but the rough material still cut deep into his body.

Blood sprayed into the air, and Anderson grunted in agony.

Even so, he rose yet again.

His spirit, though misguided, was definitely admirable.

"Give up," Ingrid said flatly, releasing her twin swords and allowing them to join the others in the air. "This fight was over the moment it began."

"Perhaps…" Anderson replied. "Even so, I cannot allow myself to rest until my objective has been completed. Ichigo Kurosaki must be saved from damnation, but that particular quest will have to wait until another day. For now, though, I can still honor Masaki's memory by rescuing her daughters."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"By taking them away from this wretched place, and raising them within the safety of the Church."

As soon as the words were spoken, an immense heat filled the air. It was absolutely suffocating, and Ingrid felt rivers of sweat begin to drip down her body. Her armor, given its metallic nature, also began to scald her flesh. Releasing a pained gasp, she dismissed the protective attire and collapsed to her knees. Raising her eyes from the street, she looked up to see that Anderson was faring no better.

The blond man was on his hands and knees, panting raggedly under the blazing inferno that continued to increase in intensity with every passing moment.

"Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear…"

The sentence was spoken so coldly, that despite the heat, Ingrid felt a horrified chill run down her spine. Removing her gaze form her previous opponent, she turned to look behind her. What she saw positively terrified her…

To say that Isshin Kurosaki was furious would be a gross understatement.

Each step he took turned the tarmac underneath his feet into bubbling tar. The glass windows of the shops lining both sides of the street melted away, and even the telephone poles nearby burst into flames.

The man himself was wreathed in white-hot fire. His Zanpakuto blazed like an uncontrollable wildfire, no doubt as the physical manifestation of his emotions. And his eyes…

Oh God, his eyes.

His eyes were completely white, empty of both irises and pupils. Flames licked at the corners of the organs, and even though the direction of his gaze was no longer possible to discern, it was more than clear that his full attention was locked on Anderson.

Ingrid choked, desperate for the oxygen that was slowly being evaporated.

Thankfully, a hand suddenly found her left shoulder, and she immediately felt much better. Gasping in lungfulls of air, she looked up at Azazel, who in turn was staring at Isshin grimly. "M-My Lord, what is-"

"That, my dear, is what happens when you piss off an overprotective parent."

Seemingly content to ignore them, Isshin continued marching forward. His movements were slow and steady, which only served to make his fury even more terrifying. Soon enough, he was standing directly in front of Anderson. By this point, the Exorcist was lying face-first on the street, violently heaving in a desperate attempt to breathe properly.

Slowly, Isshin reached down and yanked the prone man up by his hair. He continued to hoist him up until they were eye to eye. Only then, did he open his mouth to speak.

"Ichigo is a strong young man, and I have full confidence that he will be able to stand on his own fairly soon. My daughters, on the other hand, are a different story. They have a bit of Spiritual Awareness, but they are still able to live their lives like ordinary children. My son does not have that luxury, but he seems okay with that."

Anderson choked, and Ingrid watched in horror as the skin on the blond man's face began to boil and blister under the intense heat radiating off of the former Captain. His clothing also caught fire in a few places, but Isshin didn't even seem to notice. Or if he did, he certainly didn't care.

"I know how you feel about me, Anderson," the dark-haired man continued. "I know that you think I am an idiotic, ignorant fool who doesn't possess a care in the world. Let me assure you that you are very wrong. Granted, I know how to relax and have fun, but I can still be very serious when I need to. I honestly think you've been underestimating me for quite some time."

Pulling Anderson so close that their noses brushed together, Isshin looked him directly in the eye. "If you ever come near my girls again… if you ever come into Karakura Town again… there will not be enough prayer in the world that will be able to save you from me. I will BURN you, do you understand? I'll incinerate you into ashes, and there won't any way for you to heal. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I need to. Now… get the hell out of my town."

Throwing the Exorcist to the ground, Isshin allowed the flames cloaking his body to disappear.

As soon as he did so, Ingrid felt Azazel remove his hand from her should. Had he been casting a protection spell on her all this time? If he had, then she was certainly grateful. She wasn't sure how much more of that heat she could've taken before succumbing to it completely.

From his place on the ground, Anderson hacked and coughed violently. The burns all over his body slowly began to heal, and gradually his breathing returned to normal. Even so, it was more than apparent that he was still feeling some effects of the intimidation display.

Uneasily, the Exorcist forced himself into an upright stance. "Do you truly wish to keep your children from entering Heaven, Isshin?"

"I want them to be with their family, when their time comes," the aforementioned man replied. "I have relatives within Soul Society, and I know they'll be more than welcoming to me and my children when it's time for us to depart from the Living World."

"Masaki was Catholic…"

"And now she's dead. She is not in Heaven, nor is she in Soul Society. She was consumed by a Hollow, and I avenged her by killing the monster three years ago. The only family my children have left are those already in Soul Society. So, yes, I am content with knowing that they won't be able to enter your version of the afterlife."

Anderson's glare deepened even further. "She would be ashamed of you."

Isshin shook his head. "No. She would be ashamed of you."

The two men held eye contact for several more moments, before finally Anderson turned away and began walking off down the street. "Have it your way. You have my word that I will no longer attempt to enter the boundaries of Karakura Town, but that still won't stop me from trying to help your son."

"You have my word that he will be more than capable of fighting you off when the time comes."

Without another word, Alexander Anderson disappeared from view.


(Hellsing Manor)

"We keep killing them, and yet they keep coming back. You have to admit that their tenacity is something to be admired."

Chuckling deeply, Alucard kept his eyes focused upon the contents of his wine glass. Swirling the mixture of alcohol and blood around slowly, he raised it to his lips and took a small sip before deigning to respond. "Let them keep coming. We'll just keep killing them. Truly, Walter, it is that simple." Placing the glass down on the small table next to his chair, the elder vampire crossed his left leg over the right and folded his hands in his lap, all while maintaining a positively feral grin. "However, I must admit that it is rather nice to have a new piece on the board. At least it isn't just the two of us this time."

Standing several feet in front of him, Walter breathed out a sigh. "Yes, I suppose you are right. That reminds me, though… there is something I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Yes? Go on."

"Why did you turn Seras into a vampire? It just seems so out of character. You understand my curiosity, yes?"

Why indeed?

It had been nearly five centuries since he'd last attempted to take on a fledgling. And his previous experience in that area had turned out to be quite awful. Even so, something within his blackened heart had prompted him to offer Seras the chance to walk the path of everlasting darkness. Expression sobering, Alucard allowed his crimson eyes to travel to the cobblestone floor as he pondered over the right answer to the question. "It honestly wasn't my decision to make. It was hers." Reaching over to pick up his spectacles, he gingerly placed them on the bridge of his nose. "Tell me, have you met her family yet?"

Walter hummed lowly. "No. She is an orphan."

"Of course she is. Beneath that girlish exterior, lies a truly fascinating and complicated creature. She was completely abandoned to a town of death. Her coworkers were transformed into hungry, mocking visages of evil. A sadistic vampire was hunting her down, with the sole intention to rape and kill her. It was as close to Hell as a living being can get."

The memory caused something utterly wonderful to flood his senses, and Alucard once again permitted himself to grin wildly. Standing up, he threw his head back in a deranged laugh and clapped his hands ecstatically. "And even after all of that, what did she do? What fate did she choose? Giving up is what kills people, dear Walter. Those who refuse to give up are completely entitled their time to trample on their weaker brethren."

Walter's lips quirked up into the smallest of smiles. "So now you're just waiting for her to drink blood, is that right?"

"All in good time. Eventually, she'll drink."

"Hmm. And what of young Master Ichigo? What are your current thoughts on him?"

Now that was another matter entirely.

The Ghost Boy was essentially powerless at the current moment, but he could still hold his own well enough in a fight against hordes of Ghouls. However, there was undoubtedly something more trapped beneath the young man's outer shell. A creature, desperate to claw its way out and obliterate all that stood in its path. Still, only time would tell if Ichigo would be capable of containing such a monstrosity.

"I have a feeling we will see his full potential soon enough," Alucard finally replied. "There are so many warring energies contained within that child's soul. When I first laid eyes on him, I sensed divinity. However, I also sensed something utterly chaotic and uncontrollable. And even still, there was something else buried much deeper… something bright and pure."

"You think he will come into his power soon?"

"Almost certainly…"


Seras glared hatefully at the bowl of soup in front of her.

It looked so delicious.

Even so, whenever she tried to stomach the smallest of mouthfuls, bile would immediately rise up in her throat. It tasted as if she was trying to swallow actual acid. Breathing out a heavy sigh, the blonde reluctantly picked up her spoon once again and scooped up a tiny amount of broth. Bringing the utensil to her lips, she tentatively stuck out her tongue and pressed it into the brown liquid.

Her mouth immediately felt like it was on fire.

Blue eyes widening, Seras dropped the spoon down into the bowl and fell into a fit of hacking coughs. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, and she desperately brought a hand to her mouth in an attempt to force down the vomit she could feel lingering at the back of her throat.

It wasn't fair!

She was well aware of the fact that she had no real right to complain. After all, she had been the one to accept her Master's offer to join the ranks of the undead. She accepted that she was no longer human, but she still didn't want to drink human blood. The mere thought of doing so caused the vomit in her throat to rise higher.

The tears in her eyes slowly trailed down her cheeks, and Seras turned to look out the enormous window to her immediate right. The moon shone down upon her, as if attempting to mock her. Whereas she was once fully able to walk in the warmth of the sun, she was now eternally tied to the light of the moon, as well as the darkness it occupied.

The door to the dining room suddenly creaked open, and Seras turned in surprise to watch as Integra entered the room. As per usual, a cigar was clenched between her teeth, and a cloud of smoke hung heavily in the air around her face. "What the hell are you trying to accomplish?"

"S-Sir…?"

"You're not human anymore, Seras. Attempting to force yourself to stomach mortal food will only make you weaker in the long run. Aren't you hungry?"

"Well… I… yes Ma'am…"

A bag of blood was thrown down onto the table in front of her. As the contents held within sloshed around violently, Seras felt an inescapable urge to rip and tear into the plastic. Even though the blood was sealed inside, her heightened senses allowed her to smell the intense, coppery aroma it emitted.

It smelled… good.

"Drink," Integra commanded impassively. "If you continue to defy your basic necessities, you will only deteriorate with each passing day until you are nothing more than a skeletal monstrosity. Personally, I highly doubt Ichigo would appreciate seeing you in such state."

"But, I…"

"If you won't drink donated blood, then perhaps I can compel you to try a different approach."

Walking forward until she was standing directly next to Seras' chair, Integra reached down and picked up one of the knives placed on the table. Then, much to the vampiress' shock, the older woman slashed her right index finger with the blade.

A small drop of blood pooled out.

Her hunger immediately intensified.

"If you are able to resist this, then I will truly be impressed," Integra said, smirking ever so slightly. "Not even Alucard himself has ever been able to refuse pure virgin blood, no matter who it comes from. To a vampire, I imagine this is equivalent to an addictive supplement. Now please, make sure my finger doesn't get infected… kiss it better for me."

"But Sir!"

"Do it. I'm not asking you, Miss Victoria. I am giving you a direct order."

Reluctantly, Seras opened her mouth and extended her tongue. She watched anxiously as Integra slowly moved her injured finger forward, yet as soon as the digit pressed against her tongue, a rush of adrenaline filled her entire body. It felt as if every single one the pleasure sensors in her system were lit on fire all at once. Her employer's blood coated the inside of her mouth, and Seras quickly began to eagerly lap up every last drop.

Her previous exhaustion melted away, and was replaced with newfound energy.

After a moment, Integra gently pulled away.

Seras let out a whimper.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Y-Yes… thank you very much…"

"You're quite welcome. Now gear up and be ready for deployment. We've recently lost contact with the Aircraft Carrier Eagle, and we've responded under the assumption that it is Millennium's doing."

Her strength restored, Seras felt herself gradually begin to drift into a much better mood. Rising from her chair, she smiled brightly and snapped into a respectful salute. "Yes, Sir!"

Hopefully, wherever Ichigo was, he was doing alright.


(London, England; Later that Morning)

It had been quite some time since Integra had last been in Her Majesty's war room.

All around her, men and woman alike bustled back and forth, relaying pieces of sensitive information and carrying out whatever orders they had been assigned. Other individuals sat at massive computers, keeping a constant eye on the territory surrounding the Queen's empire. Still, as impressive as it all was, the Hellsing Matriarch forced herself to focus solely on the collection of men seated at the table before her.

"What is our current situation?"

Across the table, Sir Penwood folded his hands atop the polished wooden surface. "As you already know, we lost contact with the HMS Eagle approximately eighteen hours ago. As of the moment, our satellites have confirmed that she is anchored three-hundred kilometers off the coast of Pocklington Bay." Turning to the man standing directly behind his chair, Penwood gave a subtle nod.

Nodding back in kind, the uniformed man placed a manila folder on the conference table. Opening it, he revealed several photographs of what appeared to be satellite photos of the missing craft.

Integra's lip curled in disgust upon noticing the bright red swastika painted on the main deck. "So… I supposed this is proof enough that the ship has been overtaken by Millennium's forces?" she questioned rhetorically, breathing out a thick cloud of smoke.

"Indeed," Penwood acknowledged. "That is why we decided to contact you, Sir Hellsing. The situation aboard the Eagle has moved far outside of the Royal Navy's jurisdiction."

"Anything else?"

"Yes Ma'am," the man behind Penwood spoke up again. "The Eagle has ignored every attempt we have made to establish emergency communications. However, magnified satellite images have revealed the presence of a lone individual on deck holding a parasol. Two SAS Platoons are currently approaching the ship by helicopter in order to further assess the situation and hopefully bring things to a resolution."

"That was a poor decision…"

"I beg your pardon?" Penwood replied, raising a brow.

Narrowing her eyes, Integra reached forward with a hand and placed her index finger on the pile of photographs. "General, the men you've deployed are not prepared to deal with what is out there. I highly recommend that you contact them immediately and order them to withdraw."

"Sir Hellsing, I assure you that-"

"Sir!" a uniformed woman sitting at one of the many computers suddenly called out. "Both of our aircrafts have been shot down!"

"What?!" Penwood exclaimed. "Did the Eagle open fire on them?"

"No Sir. It appears as though someone fired from the main deck itself. They reported only hearing a single musket shot."

"Preposterous!" one of them men at the table cried out, standing up and slamming an enclosed fist down on the wooden surface. "There isn't a handheld weapon in existence that possessed the power to take down two helicopters flying so far apart!"

Scowling, Integra rose to her feet and turned to head towards the main doors leading out of the room. Walter, who had been standing silently beside her chair throughout the entire meeting, moved to follow her as well.

"What do you plan to do, Sir Hellsing?" Penwood asked nervously.

Pausing at the question, the blonde woman turned slightly to look her father's longtime friend in the eye. It was quite apparent that the stress of the situation was starting to get to the man; beads of sweat dripped down his face, and Integra managed to notice the way his frame quivered slightly. "Worry not, General. The Hellsing Organization is under direct orders from Her Majesty to exterminate any kind of supernatural threat that raises its head within our borders. Due to the fact that our current problem is the work of vampires, my people will be sure to handle the situation with extreme prejudice. Do you have anything to add?"

To her pleasure, Sir Penwood's expression immediately hardened. "No Ma'am. I am handing over complete control of this operation to the Hellsing Organization. Happy hunting, my dear."

Allowing herself the smallest of smirks, Integra turned once again and exited the room.

For several minutes, she and Walter walked the hallways leading to the building's main exit in complete silence. After a while, though, Integra stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder towards her retainer. "Would you like to provide any input, Walter? With your military history, I would appreciate anything you might have to say."

The elderly man smiled wryly. "Well, the people aboard the Eagle aren't launching any offensive attacks, but they seem more than willing to defend themselves when the need arises. It's textbook, Ma'am. The way I see it, it appears as though they are actively trying to lure us in. That ship is quite literally a floating fortress, though, so a straightforward assault is out of the question."

"I don't suppose we could just ignore the damned thing? How do we deal with a ship full of Ghouls? Moving vampires across large bodies of water is incredibly problematic. The situation hinders their movements, and thus ours as well. I suppose we could try sending Alucard and Seras in on our own battleship."

"I'm afraid I don't see that working out in our favor, Miss. Between the preparation and the voyage, it would take far too long to accomplish anything significant. In any case, I would not recommend that we count on the Eagle to stay put. Perhaps a faster vessel?"

"Walter… they have high caliber anti-aircraft weaponry, as well as Gatling guns aboard that ship. A speed boat would be shredded by a hail of bullets. What about dropping them in from above?

"No, that wouldn't work either," Walter countered, shaking his head regretfully. "As you said, the Eagle is stocked with anti-aircraft ordinance. We wouldn't be able to get anywhere near the target. Perhaps we could use an airplane with a lot of decoy chaff?"

"No… even that wouldn't be enough to fool those damn magic bullets."

The shadows on the nearest wall suddenly began to melt, and Integra watched as they morphed together to gradually form the familiar shape of Alucard. "So, what you're saying is… against their stockpiles of missiles and magic bullets, your only hope is to find a vehicle fast enough to get me directly onto the flight deck of that ship?"

Breathing out heavily, Integra closed her eyes in mild frustration. "That may not be possible…"

"No, wait!" Walter exclaimed. "It's brilliant! I believe I might actually know of an aircraft that can get you onboard. However, if I recall correctly, there is currently only one in existence."

Opening her eyes again, Integra arched a brow curiously. However, the giddy smile stretched across Walter's face did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves. Sparing a glance at Alucard, she felt those nerves immediately intensify upon seeing his positively shark-like grin.

This could not end well…


(The Atlantic Ocean; Two Hours Later)

It was pathetic, really.

Grinning widely, Rip van Winkle watched as three more of the fighter jets sent to destroy her ship fell into the dark abyss of the ocean. Her magic bullet streaked through the air in a flash of silver, darting over the surface of the water and back towards its mistress. As it approached her, the bullet's speed slowed considerably, and Rip casually reached out to catch it between her thumb and index fingers when it flew close enough.

"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor…"

Putting the bullet back in her suit's pocket for safekeeping, she twirled her musket around and danced to a silent tune. Oh, the Major would be so happy with her! For the past day, she had successfully defended the Eagle from every single attempt the British Empire had made to repossess it.

In the waters below, she imagined that those who'd dared to oppose her were being torn apart by sharks. It was such a wonderful mental image!

Humming to herself, Rip turned her crystal blue gaze skyward.

Hopefully, once she returned to base, the Major would be willing to tell His Majesty that she had carried out her duties down to the letter. Then, and only then, would she possibly be able to receive the reward she so desperately longed for. Smiling happily at the thought, Rip's train of though was suddenly broken when she noticed something streaking through the clouds up above.

Squinting in an attempt to get a better look, her heart seized up in horror as a sudden realization dawned on her. It was a jet-black aircraft, but that wasn't what caused the terror in her heart to take hold. She could feel who was piloting the craft, and she could sense that his goal was to bring nothing but absolute destruction to everyone on board. "H-He… he's here!" Collapsing to her knees, Rip's entire body shook in fear as she witnessed the craft change course and launch into a downward dive. "He has come for me!"

Alucard…

Hellsing's monster.

The ship's alarm began to wail loudly through the loudspeaker.

Her men began to scream in panic.

The enormous Gatling guns, positioned on both the bow and the stern of the vessel, slowly pointed upwards and began to unleash an unholy rain of ammunition. As they continued to release Hell upon the demon who was creeping ever closer, Rip narrowed her eyes and forced herself to once again find her resolve.

"No! I will not die here today!" Loading her musket, she fell flat on her back and pointed her precious weapon upward, training it directly on the cockpit of the rabidly descending aircraft. "Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor… my bullet punishes all without distinction!" Firing her gun, Rip watched with giddy pleasure as its magic bullet tore across the open sky and smashed directly into the nose of the approaching plane.

The projectile ripped through the vehicle's outer surface over and over again, coming back around nearly a dozen times to utterly decimate the individual held within. Finally, the plane was engulfed in a fiery explosion, and only then did Rip summon her bullet back down to herself.

The cheering of her men echoed in the background, and the Millennium agent felt her smile widen. She had done it! She had killed the demon! He was no more… not even Alucard could survive such a-

Her victory died a horrifyingly ugly death.

To her renewed horror, Rip witnessed the remnants of the aircraft become cloaked in a cloud of deep red shadows. The darkness stretched outward in every conceivable direction, and even with the distance between Alucard and herself, Rip could still feel his chaotic power taunting and corrupting her every thought.

There was no hope.

He was here for her.

He would kill her.

Kill her!

Kill her!

KILL HER!

The world went silent for a brief moment, before quickly becoming engulfed in a positively ear-rupturing explosion. Alucard's aircraft smashed into the main deck of the Eagle at Mach Eight, which of course had the effect of causing a chain reaction of explosive fires to ignite all across the ship. Debris rained through the air and into the sea below, and through the veil of fear that had settled upon her, Rip idly registered the sound of several of her compatriots screaming in agony as they were set ablaze.

Through it all, the shadows continued to writhe as if they possessed a consciousness of their own. In all likelihood, they probably did.

From the wreckage of the flaming plane, pieces of warped and melting metal were thrown aside as Alucard himself emerged. His ebony hair, long as it was, blew ominously in the wind generated by the force of the explosion. His overcoat, blood red in color and littered with tattered holes, fluttered likewise. Cast in shadows and dressed in red, the elder vampire truly did look like a demon.

However, more terrifying that anything, were his eyes.

And not just those on his face.

All over his torso, blood red eyes blinked open. And, of course, every single one of them was focused directly upon her. Frozen in fear, Rip found herself helpless as Alucard began to slowly walk forward across the blazing deck. Flames licked at his body, but they didn't seem to burn him at all. Clutching her musket like a child might with their favorite stuffed animal, Rip took an involuntary step back as her bane came to stop but a scant few feet in front of her.

Raising one of his gloved hands, Alucard reached out towards her.

Thankfully, though, he was suddenly peppered with gunfire before he could so much as lay a single finger on her. Blinking her way out of her horrified paralysis, Rip regained enough sense to turn and dash away from the Hellsing monstrosity as her men continued to empty their machine guns into him. Alucard's flesh was shredded, his bones were obliterated, and his clothing was destroyed beyond repair.

Even still, Rip did not dare to turn back.

As she continued to put more and more distance between herself and her psychological tormentor, she couldn't help but think back to a conversation she'd once held with the Major. They had chatted about her favorite opera, Der Freischütz. Curiously enough, the Major had told her that she was very much like the main character of Kaspar, due to their shared personality and choice of weapon. At the time, he had even informed her that he believed she would ultimately meet her end the same way Kaspar did… by being devoured as punishment for her numerous sins.

Only now did she truly understand what her superior officer had meant.

Was she truly doomed to become food for Alucard…?

No.

No!

No, gottverdammt!

That would not be her destiny!

Snarling, Rip reached underneath the collar of her suit and grasped the silver swastika pendant that hung around her neck. "I… I am the Huntress!" In the background, she heard what remained of her unit scream in agony as they were no doubt destroyed by Alucard. The thought only served to further fuel her rage. Turning around, Rip raised her musket and pointed it directly at her fellow vampire, who was finishing up with the process of healing his wounds. "Who are you, to come in her and terrorize me? I am not afraid of the likes of you!"

Alucard's lip pulled up into a smile, and the sound of his baritone chuckling filled the air. "You should be…"

"Screw you! I am Rip van Winkle! I am Sternritter H: The Huntress, and I always get my prey!"

Firing of a shot, she commanded her silver-encrusted magic bullet to make a beeline straight for the middle of Alucard's forehead. The male vampire's head snapped back as the projectile made contact, spraying blood into the air and forcing its way through his skull and brain tissue. When it erupted from the back of his head, Rip commanded the bullet to swerve around and make another pass though his spinal cord.

Again and again, it cut through his body. Bloody holes filled his torso, and soon enough even one of his arms fell free in a cascading waterfall of bodily fluids.

The remaining arm rose with a pistol in hand, and fired off several rounds of blessed ammunition. Rip smirked victoriously as the incoming projectiles bounded harmlessly off of her Blut Vene. This was so pathetic! How in the world had Alhambra managed to fall in battle against this pathetic excuse of a vampire? After everything she'd heard, she had expected her inevitable encounter with Alucard to prove more challenging.

"Is this really the best you can do, monster?" she cackled gleefully, writhing with unabashed pleasure as her opponent's legs gave out underneath him. "Where is the power you used to kill the Valentines? Where is the power you used to kill Tubalcain? If you're going to give me a fight, then at least be courteous enough to make it entertaining!"

"Entertaining, you say…?"

Insane laughter filled the air, and despite her newfound confidence, Rip found herself taking an instinctual step back. "What in the hell is so funny? I'm beating you!"

"I wouldn't go that far, little mongrel," Alucard sneered. Shadows cast by the flickering flames around them abandoned their natural positions and joined the swirling mass of the Hellsing vampire's chaotic Spiritual Energy. Slowly but surely, his multitude of grievous wounds began to heal. "It seems as though you have yet to realize that those who impersonate the dead are doomed to join their ranks. Don't worry, though… I'll be killing you shortly."

"Die! Die and go to Hell!"

Yet again, her magic bullet screamed through the air. This time, it struck Alucard directly in the center of his chest. A cascade of blood erupted from the point of impact, but the bullet still did not stop until it emerged from directly between the elder vampire's shoulder blades. Rip grinned like a woman gone mad upon hearing the sound of Alucard's spinal cord shattering.

"Again!" she commanded.

The bullet made an additional pass, carving a path through her opponent's kneecap.

"Again!"

A gloved hand was eviscerated.

"Again!"

The opposite arm fell into two pieces.

"Again!"

Alucard was sent careening back towards the edge of the ship as the bullet entered through his mouth and slammed into the back of his throat. Bone and brain matter exploded across the deck as the enchanted projectile forced itself to emerge from the back of his head.

Laughing with triumph, Rip leaned forward eagerly. "You were never a match for me!"

Sending another silent order to her bullet, she commanded it to make one final swerve that would carry enough force to finally launch Alucard off of the edge of the Eagle's deck and into the cold abyss below. Once there, he would never pose a problem to anyone ever again.

However, just as the bullet flew close enough, Alucard moved so quickly that even Rip's enhanced vision had somewhat of a problem tracking his movements. Even still, as a new surge of horror took hold of her at what she saw, part of her sincerely wished she hadn't been able to see it in the first place. In an absolutely impossible display of agility, Alucard actually lashed out and caught her magic bullet with his teeth.

"No! H-How?!"

The Hellsing vampire's lips upturned into an absolutely feral grin. As he bit down on her bullet, Rip's shock multiplied exponentially when he actually managed to shatter it. Spitting out the silver shards, Alucard never brought his gaze away from her own. "Guess what I just caught, little Quincy?" Despite the intensity of the flames roaring around them, the darkness in the area seemed to increase as the eldritch creature took a slow step forward. "I just caught… you."

Paralysis overtook her.

A silent scream tried to claw its way out of her throat.

Clutching her now useless musket like a lifeline, Rip backpedalled like her life depended on it.

She had never been very good at using anything other than her signature weapon. Even her best attempts to conjure up Spirit Arrows were often met with failure. Over the past seventy years, her gun had become a crutch, one which her comrades within Millennium had often told her would get her killed one day.

In a desperate fit, she threw her musket to the deck and raised her hands to summon a collection of Spirit Energy from the surrounding air. The bright blue particles, which were of course ever present, slowly moved towards her open palms and began to take the shape of a poorly constructed bow. Crying out in terror as her pursuer took several more steps forward, Rip drew back on an invisible drawstring and released a single Heilig Pfeil.

The projectile soared through the air, and struck Alucard in the center of his stomach. However, even though the Heilig Pfeil hit its mark without any trouble, it still dissolved into nothingness a few seconds after impact.

Alucard laughed maniacally. "Is that the best you can do, little Quincy? Your friend in Brazil proved to be much more troubling than you have thus far."

A fist lashed out, catching her in the left cheek. Crying out in a mixture of shock and pain, Rip had barely any time to register what had happened before she was launched off her feet and into the nearest wall. The metal warped under the force of the impact, she screamed again when the jagged surface ripped through her suit and tore into her back.

Scrunching her eyes shut in pain, Rip felt all of her remaining strength seep out of her body. Opening a single blue eye, she did her best to focus on her tormentor through the flood of tears that were beginning to spill down her cheeks.

Bending down briefly, Alucard picked up her discarded musket before continuing with his approach. In a matter of moments, he stood before her, cloaked in shadows and silhouetted by both the fires all around them and the light of the moon above. Slowly, he raised her weapon and pressed the tip of its barrel against her chest and directly over her heart. His remaining hand wrapped around her throat, preventing her from making any sort of an attempt to escape.

And then she felt it.

The pressure.

Her Blut Vene held fast for a moment, before ultimately giving way.

A gasp escaped her as her beloved weapon first tore through her clothing, and then slowly forced its way past her skin and into the mass of muscle underneath. Kicking wildly and flailing her arms like a wild animal, Rip screamed in agony as the musket continued pressing forward. Her efforts proved pointless. Muscle ripped, bone shattered, and the weapon continued unimpeded towards her heart.

With a final push, Alucard shoved it completely through her torso. The very tip emerged from between her shoulder blades, and Rip threw her head back as her heart burst like a blood-filled water balloon.

The pain was beyond description.

Spots filled her vision.

She barely registered the sensation of fangs penetrating the side of her throat.

A tugging sensation filled her body. It was like a hook had settled in her chest, and was dragging her out of her physical form. Was this what it felt like to die?

No…

She knew in the back of her mind that she was not going to die in the conventional way.

She was doomed to an eternity that was far worse.

Releasing a final breath, Rip locked her crystalline gaze upon a distant star as she felt her body break down completely. The final thought that passed through her mind as she was absorbed into Alucard's essence was of her favorite opera…

Der Freishütz.


(Location Unknown)

"May I speak freely, Major…?"

"But of course, Herr Doktor! Please, tell me what troubles you."

"Why not permit me to activate the First Lieutenant's kill switch? Surely, it would have been a much better fate than what she will be forced to endure now."

"And how could I do such a thing to the poor girl?" the Major responded, smiling in pleasure as he continued to watch Rip van Winkle's demise on the enormous monitor positioned on the wall before him. The secret camera that Schrödinger had managed to sneak onboard was working quite wonderfully. "No, I certainly couldn't do that. The Lieutenant deserved nothing less than the death she received. After all, as I once told her, she plays the same role as Kaspar in this story. Tell me, Doktor… do you know what became of Kaspar at the end of Der Freishütz?"

"He falls victim to Samiel, correct?"

"Precisely! The only true way to honor the First Lieutenant's work is to allow her finale to play out in the exact same way as Kaspar's. Given that Alucard is Samiel, does it not make sense to allow him to consume her?"

"I suppose you have a point there, Herr Major."

Chuckling at the noticeable mirth carried in his compatriot's tone, the Major rose from his chair and turned around to face the collection of SS officers assembled in the war room. Positioned upon a raised platform in the manner that he was, he was able to look over the entirety of the group. At the base of the platform, the Captain, who stood as silent as ever, tore his own gaze away from the screen to look the Major in the eye.

The rest of the soldiers behind him extended their right arms in a unified salute.

The portly man grinned. "My dear friends! Let us honor our fallen comrade in the best way that we can. She fulfilled her role down to the letter, and I think it would only be appropriate to give her a proper sendoff. Through her sacrifice, we have managed to take one step closer to bringing Alucard to submission. Auf Wiedersehen, First Lieutenant!"

At the back of the room, a muscular, scythe-wielding woman slammed the butt of her weapon against the floor. The sound echoed throughout the enclosed space, and the collection of gathered officers mimed the action by stomping their feet a single time.

"Auf Wiedersehen," Zorin Blitz repeated.

"AUF WIEDERSEHEN!" the soldiers parroted in unison.

Smiling widely, the Major raised both his hands and closed his eyes. Turning to face the ceiling, he released a rather pleased breath. Everything was going exactly according to plan. It was all just as His Majesty had predicted. Soon, Alucard would be no more, and London would fall to Millennium's collective might.

And what was more…

Ichigo Kurosaki would be reborn in Hellfire.

It would be such a glorious thing to witness.


Another chapter finished.

I have to admit, though, I am just a little unsatisfied with several of the scenes depicting canon events that happened within the Hellsing storyline. As I watched the OVA, and wrote down what I have, I discovered that although the animated scenes themselves may be quite long, putting them on paper takes up relatively little space. When I say this, I mean that most of the purely Hellsing scenes in this chapter were rather brief compared to everything else.

Even so, I am not too dissatisfied.

I'm happy with what I have.

On another note, did you all enjoy seeing 'Papa Bear Mode' Isshin Kurosaki? To be completely realistic, Anderson would stand little to no chance against someone of Isshin's level of strength. That was why I depicted the scene in the way I did. If Papa Kurosaki can take on Aizen, then he can certainly handle an Exorcist without too much trouble. The only reason I even had Anderson try to take him on was because, like I stated in the chapter, he has been underestimating Isshin for quite some time.

Also, do you guys like Ingrid?

For the purposes of this story, she is technically an OC, but her physical appearance is based off something that already exists. For those of you who are aware of what the source material for her is, let me assure you that I am simply a fan of her design.

Lmao. *Pulls on collar nervously*

To give a bit of context, Ingrid is as strong as an upper-level Shinigami Lieutenant.

Additionally, I would also like to say that I am aware that Rip van Winkle's fight with Alucard was a lot less intense than the one he had with Tubalcain Alhambra. Even in the OVA, she is basically paralyzed with fear for the duration of their encounter, and when Alucard destroys her magic bullet, Rip is essentially demoralized to the point where she is no longer able to put up a fight.

Other than that, I don't really think I have too much else to say.

Hopefully, either "The Legend of Earth Land" or "Fibers of the Universe" will be updated next. Honestly, I feel like I should go with the latter, especially when one considers that it was my first story and only has seven published chapters. But, we'll see what happens.

Wash your hands and stay indoors.

AlucardsBro OUT!


Omake


(Six years ago; Nantahala, NC)

"Wait here while I go fill out the paperwork, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Mhm."

"Whatever."

Isshin smiled, before turning around to enter the Recreational Center.

Folding his arms across his chest, Ichigo scowled and looked across the dirt road at the enormous cluster of trees before him. When his dad had decided to surprise them all with a family vacation, he had expected to go somewhere like Kyoto or out in the countryside. Traveling to America of all places had been the furthest thing from his mind.

The people were weird here…

They talked funny, they acted funny, and quite a few of them were fat.

Still, the change in scenery didn't seem to upset his sisters in the slightest. If anything, they actually seem happy to be so far away from home. Sitting next to him on the wooden bench, both Karin and Yuzu enthusiastically munched away of their chocolate fudge popsicles. For whatever reason, the man behind the desk of the Recreational Center had given the sweet treats away for free. Then, one thing had led to another and their dad had been talked into renting a pontoon boat.

Ichigo would admit, things were certainly peaceful up here in the mountains, but he still would have rather be back at home.

"Why are you so mad?" Karin suddenly asked. "That man offered you a popsicle, but you said no. Do you not wanna be here?"

"What?!" Yuzu gasped, evidently scandalized by the mere suggestion. "How could you not like this place, Ichigo? All the flowers are really pretty, our cabin is awesome, and the people here are super friendly!"

"I know…" Ichigo replied, scowling even further. "I just don't like being so far away from Japan. I keep getting this feeling like something is gonna happen."

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

"Just forget it…"

Gravel crunched to their left, and the three Kurosaki siblings all turned as one to look over at the young girl that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. She was studying a map tacked to the building intently, and looked to be about Ichigo's age.

"Hello!" Yuzu called out cheerily.

The mystery girl spun to face them.

Ichigo immediately frowned at her odd appearance.

She was dressed in varying shades of the exact same color. Dark grey cargo pants covered her legs, and even darker boots adorned fit feet. Her upper half was covered by a light silver jacket, which possessed a hood lined with sparse white fur. However, it was not necessarily her choice of attire that caused Ichigo the most concern. More than anything, he felt himself tense up upon noticing the bow slung over her shoulders, and the fully stocked quiver secured to her back.

"Hello there…" the dark-haired girl replied cautiously. Her eyes moved away from Yuzu momentarily and met Ichigo's scrutinizing glare. To his surprise, she returned the expression in full. The glaring match only lasted for a moment, though, and she quickly looked back towards his sisters. "I must apologize. I didst not see thou sitting there."

Yuzu cocked her head to the side, before bursting into a quiet fit of giggles. "You talk funny! Where are you from?"

The girl frowned, obviously mildly insulted. "I do not see anything wrong with my manner of speech. 'Tis elegant and proper, just like the English language should be spoken. In response to your additional inquiry… I hail from the nearby town."

"Huh…?"

"She means she's from around here," Ichigo cut in. The girl's gaze turned to him once again, and their previous glaring continued. "But if that's true, then why the heck are you looking at a map of the area? A local should already be familiar with the landscape."

"Did I ask thee for thy input, boy?" the girl hissed back, saying the final word with a strange amount of venom. "If thou must know, my sisters and I are merely staying in the aforementioned settlement. We do not truly reside locally."

"My sister is right. You do talk funny."

"I DO NOT!"

Waving the outburst off carelessly, Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say…"

"By the gods, thou art infuriating beyond measure!"

"And you're acting like you have a stick up your- OUCH!"

Bending down to rub his aching shin, Ichigo glared angrily at Karin. His dark-haired sister shrugged carelessly, before turning back to face their strange new acquaintance. "Don't mind my brother. He can be a bit of a butthead at times."

"Hey!"

The girl snickered unabashedly. "I can easily see the truth carried within those words."

Ichigo scowled, and opened his mouth to retort.

Karin beat him to it.

"Yeah, boys sure can be stupid sometimes. So, what's your name?"

The girl puffed out her chest a bit with evident pride. Placing her hands on her hips, she made certain to maintain direct eye contact with Ichigo as she responded to the inquiry.

"I am called Zoë."