"Huh..." Baldassare nodded as he looked over his reflection in the mirror. He turned to the side, checking himself from various angles while the tailor looked on, nodding and seeming generally approving. "You do good work, Miles."

"I'm glad you think so." Kristopherson replied. "Does it feel uncomfortable anywhere? Too tight? Too baggy?"

"No, it feels good." For emphasis, Baldassare rotated his arms at the shoulder in order to test the fit of his brand new suit. It wasn't just supernaturals with "inhuman" shapes that enjoyed buying custom clothes from Andrea's, as Kristopherson often got business from members of Girasol amoung others, as well. Then again, perhaps it didn't hurt that a former high-ranking member of the coven was now his cashier. "I think this is it."

"Alright, then. If you like, you can wear it out, or you can change back into your other clothes and I can put a cover on this."

"That'll do nicely, thanks." With that, the vampire began walking to the changing booth before changing clothes and handing the new suit to Kristopherson to take care of.

"If you'll just wait downstairs, I'll have this ready for you." the wolfman stated.

Andrea's had two floors, you see. The ground floor had the store and the back rooms and such, while the top floor was where one went for tailoring, as it was also where the sewing stations were. There were several people working in that room at that very moment, sewing everything from underwear to blankets. The vampire descended the stairs and reached the main store where his former general was manning the register.

"How'd it go?" inquired Kyung-soon with a smile. "Did it fit okay?"

"Yeah. It was perfect. Really nice." Baldassare answered as though he was very pleasantly surprised. "It's been a while since I've had a really good suit. I'll have to order more sometime."

"You can do it right now, if you want." the woman replied, but Baldassare shook his head.

"Nah, I've got a committee meeting that I've gotta get to." he said while reaching for his wallet. "Can I pay while he's messing with that?"

"Yeah, of course."

Suit now in his possession, the man held it by the hanger and swung it over his shoulder so it would be comfortable to carry down the street. He was planning on dropping it off at home before heading to the meeting, so he went back to Girasol headquarters. His apartment was on one of the upper floors of the Girasol base. All of the other residents of the building were his own people. All vampires, but Girasol wasn't his only love.

Baldassare's room was an organised mess, with stacks of books spilling out of shelves and sitting in piles. He also had a very obvious collection of weapons that he wasn't supposed to legally own, both in Gehenna and in Britain in general. He was also one of the few people in Gehenna to own a computer, but he only ever used it for research. Instead, he would always type things up on the typewriter that sat on his desk, hence why there was always paper littering the floor, the desk, and especially the area around the trash can. His current work in progress sat very neatly on his desk with the newest page still in the tyepwriter. He didn't have time for that, however. Instead, he needed to find the folder with his notes for the meeting.

"Where the fuck is it?" he asked himself while rummaging through a rather disorganised filing cabinet of his. He opened folders before putting them back until finally, he had it. "Ah-ha!" And with that, he was on his way back out again.

On his way, his underlings waved to him and greeted him, calling out words of encouragement as he prepared for an event that Baldassare both cared deeply about and dreaded. The man was all smiles too as he waltzed his way out of the building. As he drew closer and closer to the front door, however, a tall figure loomed with folded arms and a mean expression on his face. "Fangless" Shaun, his most trusted general right after Kyung-Soon, stood in his way.

"Outta my way, Shaun. I gotta go." Baldassare ordered, making an attempt to shoo the other vampire to the side with his hand.

"No, you're not." Shaun replied, pushing his boss back a little bit before reaching for his collar. Instead of a fight, however, the much taller vampire fixed Baldassare's outfit for him. "Your collar was folded wrong."

"Thanks, mate." the shorter vampire replied. "I'll be back later. I have a few things to do today, so I don't really know exactly when."

"Alright. Just be careful out there."

"What's to be careful of? I'm fuckin' Baldassare!" Babyface chuckled before passing through the door and leaving the building. He had to make his way to city hall relatively quickly, but didn't want to drop his cool facade by jogging.

Gehenna had only just recently gotten a specific building to act as city hall. Rather, it was an add-on to another building that already existed. The only way that they could justify having a building that wasn't just a small room was by having it attached to the courthouse, thus making "City Hall." So far, it was working just fine with no complaints either from the council-members or the judge.

He swaggered up to the building and walked through the front door like he owned the place, walking through the decorated lobby. The fountain at the front of the room was the focal point, separating office space and meeting rooms from the courtroom. It was just a simply one with a bowl to collect the water and a stone back mounted on the wall behind it. The design incorporated a lion of course, using it's mouth as a water spout. On either side of it was a flag. One was British and the other was Gehennan. Despite probably coming from a garden center, the piece somehow blended right in. Baldassare walked past it as he made his way to the meeting room where the town council gathered.

He stopped for a moment and looked down into the water. There was no reflection, of course, as it can't appear on either the surface of water, or anything made of silver, but he could see inside the fountain rather clearly. Coins had sunk to the bottom, as it had become sort of an odd tradition for people to drop a coin into it for luck in their court cases, ever since it was installed. The man stood up straight again, only to pause and look from side to side. No one was watching, so he tucked his folder underneath one arm and rolled up the sleeve of the other before sticking his hand in the water. Having scooped up a few coins, he shook off some of the water before slipping them into his pocket.

It was an unsightly thing for a councilman to do, but he had only recently become a semi-respectable person and was still working on a few things. He still looked presentable when he walked into the room fashionably late. Everyone was already gathered at the oval table that stretched from one end of the room to the other. There were thirteen seats total. Twelve of them were councilmembers from the town, the number mirroring that of the Convention of Twelve, also known as the "Round Table Conference." The thirteenth seat, however, was reserved for an outsider.

Jim Phantomhive had already taken his seat and had all of his materials for the meeting sorted. He was wearing one of his nicer suits and appeared rather professional before the council and appeared to be a rather professional and dashing young man. The bizzarre amount of normalcy he was emitting somehow made Baldassare uneasy as he took his seat.

"With everyone now in attendance, shall we get started?" suggested sister Dorothy from her position at the head of the table. "Now, ordinarily, we never seem to have anything out of the ordinary to report, but this time, the majority of us have noticed a rather unsettling trend. With each day, there appears to be more and more Scarlet Order "s"'s being painted onto public and private property. Every time it's painted over, it seems to reappear twice as quickly. At our last meeting, each one of us was tasked with finding out anything we could about this and to try and formulate possible solutions. If anyone has found anything, now would be a good time to present it."

"May I?" raised the hand of one man, a weretiger by the name of Marcus Lee.

"Of course."

"Yes, well… After doing some digging around the office and consulting with a few of my fellow attorneys here in Gehenna, it appears that most vandalism arrests are of younger people. In particular, vampires and werewolves who have been moved to Gehenna within a few months." Mister Lee informed. "Now, I am by no means making any kind of assumptions about either species. In fact, I believe it has less to do with species and more to do with the perhaps stereotypical outrageous behaviour of newcomers."

"These records match up with police arrests as well." chimed in Tegwen Sibyl, the chief of police. "This particular demographic tends to get in trouble with the law quite a bit. Usually, it's public disturbances, but vandalism isn't unusual, either."

"What makes them behave this way?" questioned Sister Dorothy. "Surely, this is not nature, but perhaps there is a problem that is plaguing these young people?"

"Yeah. It's called 'being-an-annoying-little-shit.'" scoffed Baldassare. "These brats come in and they think they're hot shit because they've got 'superpowers' now or some half-witted fuckery like that. So they get cocky. When they get cocky, they act like they're big and bad by being a pain in the ass for everybody else. They're not hard to deal with, though. Just scare the shit out of 'em once or twice, and they'll stay in line."

"I certainly hope you don't intend to take matters into your own hands..." noted Tegwen in an almost pleading manner.

"Nah. That's not my job. It's yours, Sibyl. You've got people on patrol, right? Why haven't they done anything about it?"

"It's the place of the police to protect the public, not harass them." the woman stated. "We've been issuing citations and making arrests accordingly. We will not engage in acts of unnecessary violence or intimidation."

"Hah! Leave it to Gehenna to have the only cops in the world who aren't crooked!"

"I think Baldassare's plan works on some level," began mister Phantomhive from end of the table opposite to Sister Dorothy. "but, Sibyl is following procedure correctly and I think she is in the right. Cops shouldn't be doing that. Nobody should. That kind of thing can get out of hand really quickly."

"You of all people shouldn't be lecturing us about vigilante justice, Goldilocks." snidely replied the Girasol vampire. "You ain't exactly a 'model citizen' in that regard, either. You're married to the fuckin' Watchdog, for Christ's sake."

"Baldassare!" the nun began to scold.

"Sorry, sister..."

"That's true. The world outside these walls is a nasty place." Alois answered, appearing to wholeheartedly agree. "That's why we've built this place from the ground up the way it is. That's why we're sure to have good cops instead of bad ones. So no one has to take the law into their own hands. However, it is still important to tell whether or not this is a serious resurgence of the Order, or if it is just ordinary teenage rebellion."

"What do you mean?" asked the Girasol vampire, arching a brow.

"Think about the kinds of people who lash out when they get to Gehenna." the menace began. "It's just as you said, Baldassare. This isn't the typical, 'was-bitten-while-walking-alone-at-night' newcomers. These are kids who thought that vampirism was gonna solve all of their problems and make them demi-gods, but did that really happen?"

"No..." Baldassare replied, starting a chain reaction of "no's" in the room and the shaking of heads. "No, it didn't."

"So how do they react when that's not the case? What happens? And then they come to Gehenna, a city of monsters, only for it to have a lot of the same rules as out there. They can't run around and do whatever they want and they didn't ever gain the power that they thought they would. In fact, they now have to learn to shape their life around this new trait of theirs and everything that comes with it. Think of how absolutely disappointed you would be. Nothing was solved. Nothing was fixed. The idealised version of what their life was gonna be just… shattered. Of course they're gonna lash out against the structure that they have been placed into. But, as they learn about Gehenna, they pick up on a few ideas."

"Why the Scarlet Order, though?" questioned Mister Lee. "Of all things?"

"Because the Scarlet Order opposes everything Gehenna is." Baldassare answered for the menace before Alois could speak. "They want to defy the establishment, so they take advantage of symbols that were used by those who would threaten it."

"Exactly." the Phantomhive replied. "They're expressing their anger at how 'unfair' it is."

"So it's nothing to worry about, then..." said Sister Dorothy. Placing her hand on hear heart, she uttered a sigh of relief. "That's good..."

"I wouldn't be just so sure." Alois continued. "It makes them vulnerable targets for radicalisation. You could get copycats or a sort of Neo-Scarlet Order, if we're not careful. My husband hoped the same thing when kids started using swastikas in the punk scene."

"What can we do about that?" the woman asked.

"Well, freedom of speech is a pretty big deal, so it's hard to find an ethical way to crack down on it." the demon stated. "But, since The Scarlet Order is classified as a dangerous organisation that's a threat to supernatural society by HELLSING, so it would be pretty easy to make being a member of the organisation officially unlawful. That would mean that wearing or using associated symbols would also be grounds for arrest."

"What if they're just kids messing around?" inquired Tegwen. "I don't want to arrest a bunch of kids who thought it would be 'cool' to wear a logo or something."

"They're playing at being a dangerous group and wasting police time. That could be a finable offense."

"This really pisses me off..." grumbled Baldassare with a roll of his eyes. With obvious amounts of reluctance, he said: "I have to agree with the demon..."

"Is there any further questions or suggestions before we decide to have a vote on this?" questioned Sister Dorothy, only to be answered with a small murmer of "no's" sprinkled in amoungst silence. "Very well, then. Since you suggested the idea, Mister Phantomhive, will you be so kind as to write up the bill?"

"Already did." Alois answered, opening up the folder that he had placed on the desk in front of him. He pulled out a very small stack of paper and passed them to the to his left. "Here's a copy of the bill for the council to review."

"Excellent!" the woman declared. "Then we will review this and meet again in a fortnight to decide whether this will be the bill that the public will vote on or not. Are there any further issues, suggestions, or grievances?"

With no one declaring so, she proceeded to draw the meeting to a close. "Meeting adjourned, then."

With that, everyone stood up and began shuffling out of the room. Alois lagged behind as he began putting his things back into his briefcase. As he did so, Baldassare slowed his pace a bit before coming to a stop beside him. At first, Alois tried to ignore him, but obviously, the man wasn't planning on going away.

"You're pretty smart, for a blonde-headed poof." the vampire said, but without skipping a beat, the other man shot him back a reply.

"Isn't one of your generals a blonde lesbian?"

"She dyes her hair." Baldassare informed, offering Tegwen a nod as she walked past them both. "Lighten up. It was a compliment."

"Yeah, well… I don't like being called a poof. It's rather homophobic and witless of you." the demon stated.

"Then what should I call you instead?"

"Preferably by my name. I may not look it, but I worked really hard to make my way out of the lowest pile of shit and get to where I am right now. Seen things nobody should and all that tear-jerking crap. I've finally made a name for myself, now, and I'd appreciate it if you'd use it."

Alois didn't back down and was sure to look the other man square in the face as he said this. There was no sign of falsehood. There was no sign of weakness. Yet, Baldassare did the same. Eventually, however, the vampire gave the slightest of nods, although his face seemed wary, still.

"See you 'round." he said. "You better have the balls to show up to the next meeting, Phantomhive."

"But of course!" the menace replied. "How ever will I go on if I don't ever see your bright, smiling face again?" He was punched in the shoulder before Baldassare walked off, but the gesture still made Alois grin a bit. His expression only widened as he was approached yet again, but this time, but Sister Dorothy.

"I think he's warming up to you." warmly smiled the nun as she spoke with a hushed tone.

"I've noticed."

"He's gotten a lot better since you started fixing the town." she said. "He's more cheerful, his impact has gotten more positive… It may not look it, but he really respects you a lot, Mister Phantomhive."

"Glad to hear it." Alois answered.

"I mean it." Dorothy said, patting the arm that Baldassare hit. "Giving a new lease on this town has given him a new lease on life! Thank you, Mister Phantomhive."

"I'm happy to do it and I'd do it again." the menace pleasantly replied. He wasn't sure just how true that was, but was pleased that Sister Dorothy believed it.

Baldassare had two other meetings that day. More specifically, one of them was a meeting and the other was just an agreement to meet. He had a history lesson to attend to at the house of Westley and without a second thought, the young woman who lived there invited in perhaps one of the most dangerous vampires in London as a guest.

The man immediately started looking around, giving in to his somewhat nosy nature. The flat wasn't particularly extravagant or even all that well-decorated, but it was pleasant enough. Samantha certainly didn't seem bothered, so he supposed it was alright. There was a keyboard and a guitar case in the livingroom, but the woman said they weren't hers, so they must have been her brother's. His eyes did immediately move to the bookshelf that was in the living room. The Westley's hadn't been in Gehenna for too terribly long, but the shelf was spilling over with books on the floor in neat stacks next to it.

"So supernatural beings have always existed near and amoung humans. At times, even working with and trading with them. As humanity's territory grew, the territory of the supernaturals shrank. Do you remember how humanity did it?" he asked while going through the woman's things.

"Well, according to the book that you wrote, it was a difference in technology." Samantha replied. "You said that humans figured out ways to kill supernaturals with ease, so they began doing so. They created groups to do this before HELLSING, like the Iscariot organisation."

"Exactly. It wasn't a difference in intelligence, but a difference in weaponry and the willingness to use it. With the fall of the Victorian age came the rise of HELLSING and by the 1930's, supernaturals were so beaten that we were willing to hide away in the Ghettos of 'The Supernatural Containment Area.' This location would later become Gehenna."

Pausing, Samantha looked up from her note taking. "What about you, Baldassare?" she asked. "You were alive back then, weren't you?"

"I was. And I was shuffled in here all the way back then." the vampire said. "I left Italy about… Let's say about a hundred years before that. It got too dangerous, with Iscariot around, so I moved, and then wound up in England in about the same century that Doctor Abraham Van Helsing defeated Dracula and founded HELLSING."

"What was it like?"

"Shit." Baldassare bluntly informed. "It was shit, but humans didn't bother us too much if we stayed in line. HELLSING was really hard on us in those early years… That's why the place has only had an overpopulation problem recently. They eased up over time, though, and got downright lenient when Integra Hellsing took over. Then the reformation happened and here we are. The next generation won't even know. Maybe it's for the best, but… It's still good to know where you came from."

"You're good friends with Sister Dorothy, aren't you? Why don't you go teach a class."

"Nah… I swear too much to teach kids… I'm workin' on a textbook, though. It's hard to get all this stuff written down, but it's important." The man paused to laugh. "It took me three hundred years, but I think I've finally found my calling."

"I mean, you're making history just by making the textbook." the woman noted with a smile. "You'll be the first person ever to record an almost complete history of supernatural beings of Britain."

"That's the dream, love." the man playfully said. "It's not gonna be complete because there's just not enough written down and not enough people who know the old stories. But, I've got the notes to almost finish it."

"I can't wait to read it!" Samantha excitedly declared. "This is a huge deal! Recording previously unknown or unspoken historical events is in turn a historical event! I feel like I'm kind of freaking out about this, but it's probably the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"You haven't see it yet, so how do you know?" questioned the vampire. "That's a rather unusual thing for a young lady to think is 'the coolest,' though, isn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" questioned the other, narrowing her eyes a bit with a insincere pout.

"I mean… What about this girl in this picture, here?" Baldassare questioned, plucking a photograph that was hidden in one of the books. It was a candid photo of another young woman in a fencing outfit. Her blonde hair was flattened and stuck to her forehead as her skin glistened with sweat. Immediately upon seeing it, Samantha's immediate reaction was to lunge at the man and make a grab for it, but she crushed it down and remained calm.

"So? What of it?" she questioned. "It's a picture of one of my friends."

"A friend, huh?" the man inquired right back. "Huh. Could've fooled me. A mean, with all the Allison Bechdel books here and poems written by Sappho, I almost got the wrong impression!"

"You shut the hell up, you… arsehole." Samantha wasn't very good at threats, so all she ended up doing was make the man laugh.

"Try 'fuck' instead. 'Shut the fuck up, arsehole.' Or if you wanna be real mean, you could've said, 'Shut the fuck up, you pasty-ass motherfucker.' Go ahead. Try it."

"You… Shut the fuck up, you… pasty-ass motherfucker?"

"We'll work on that." Baldassare laughed, still. "Cute girl you got, though. Don't worry about it. One of my best friends is a lesbo."

"There's so many things wrong with what you said, but I don't have the energy to explain why it's wrong..." the Westley sighed, observing how Baldassare somewhat missed his mark on inclusion.

"What? She not yours?"

Somewhat nervously, the girl shook her head. "I told you, she's just a friend."

"That sucks..." Baldassare stated, looking at the picture once again before placing it back in the book he found it in. Turning toward Samantha, he started walking her way. "You tell her how you feel?"

"No. No, I… I haven't..."

"You think she'll tell you off? Hate your guts?"

"No, but… I don't really wanna ruin the friendship, y'know? I'm not…" The Westley sighed. "I dunno, I don't think I'm quite to that point, yet..."

"Well, you oughtta do somethin', if you think you have a chance. You gotta flirt with her. Let her see you as a real option and not just a friend. And, the more you let it wait, the friendlier you seem, so…" He offered a shrug. "I get that you're afraid of rejection, but everybody is. The only way to get out of the friendzone, though, is to stop framing yourself as a friend and go get her. C'mon! Flirt a little! You never know, she could fancy you, too."

"I have no idea how to flirt." Samantha confessed, rubbing her forehead with her hand, subconsciously hiding her face."

"I'd teach you a few moves, if you're fine with being butch."

"I have no idea how that would translate into anything usable..."

"Or, if you want, I can introduce you to my general. Her name's Kyung-Soon Park and she's good. She got the Chief of Police wrapped around her finger, and she might be able to teach you a thing or two about hitting on birds." After spotting the apprehension on his protege's face, he added: "You don't have to decide now. You can think about it. It's just an option and one of many."

After that, they continued the lesson without another word on the matter. They still joked and were still jovial, but they remained on task until it was time for the vampire to leave. He was sure to do so before the man of the house returned home, as he knew that Samantha's brother didn't really approve of them being friends. Besides, he had another meeting to get to by sundown and couldn't be late.

It was out in London, so the man needed to pass through the gates. First, he returned to base in order to pick up a car and a few flunkies to back him up in case things turned ugly. He didn't tell Samantha about the meeting because he knew it wasn't good for her to know anything. This wasn't a wholesome town council meeting. It was shady. Very shady. So, with his pistol in his pocket, he and his armed guards drove out to a hotel in the city.

London was so ugly in comparison to Gehenna to the vampire as he looked out his window with a sneer. It lacked the vibrancy. The uniqueness. Although Baldassare was alright with a few humans and even offered them protection, like with the Westleys, he still hated how the city was absolutely crawling with them. The car stopped at a red light and Baldassare saw a couple holding hands, baffled by the fact that they, like other humans on that very street, had no idea what was just a few feet away from them. It was the closest they could get to television: Vampires in a sports car, driving off to do a shady business deal.

Once they reached the hotel, the Girasol vampires parked in the parking garage and headed toward the elevators. Of course, they had to meet in a swanky place that made Baldassare turn up his nose. The only reason why he couldn't get completely disgusted by the venue was that they were being invited by supernaturals, not humans. For a supernatural being to acquire the wealth to afford a place such as this was impressive and worthy of respect.

Upon reaching their floor, they found the room that they were supposed to meet in and knocked on the door. It was suffocatingly stuffy in a bizarrely pretentious sort of way out in the hall and while they were waiting, Baldassare couldn't imagine the room being much better. He sound found out when the door was opened by another young woman, only this one wore a cape and had a sour look on her face.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Girasol." the vampire answered. "I'm Baldassare. I have a meeting with a mister… 'Abhartach.'"

Looking him over, the woman seemed to ponder this for a moment before stepping to the side and allowing the vampire inside. She closed the door behind them and locked it, just as he thought she would. Immediately, the man's eyes began scanning the suite in order to look for possible exits in case things didn't go as planned. There were none that were obvious, meaning that the group would have to fight their way out in the worst case scenario. He also noticed that the woman was following them rather closely as they walked further into the suite.

What looked to be the meeting place was arranged in the living room with two couches facing one another, divided by coffeetable. There were five other people in that room apart from Girasol and that was including the woman. Standing up were more people wearing capes, including a man who appeared to be greying in his thirties. The top of his head was snowy white, but if one's eyes traveled down his face to the tip of his chinstrap beard, it was an ashy brown. Seated, however, was the man that Baldassare assumed to be "Abhartach."

He was a stout man, built like a brick house, with a long, black, unruly mane somehow tamed into a loose bun on the back of his head. His face was also rather scruffy with a shortly trimmed beard, contrasting with the very tidy grey suit suit that he wore. An obviously strange man, he also sunglasses in doors at night, but the most concerning thing about him were his hands. They were worn with calluses on the fingers and scarring on the knuckles. Beaten up, it was clear that the man was no stranger to fighting. He offered up a smile as Baldassare entered, however, and stood.

"Mister Baldassare," he greeted, "It's good to meet you face to face."

Holding out one of those paws of his to shake, he pretended not to notice Baldassare's small moment of hesitation before he took him up on his offer. Both were weighing the pros and cons of each movement, so instead of attempting to crush the vampire's hand, he did as promised and simply gave it a firm shake. Baldassare, on the other hand, was also convinced that the other was up to something nefarious.

"I take it you're Abhartach, then?" Baldassare playfully replied.

"The one and only. Come, come, take a seat. We have much to discuss." The man assumed to be "Abhartach insisted while trying to shoo the vampire in the direction of the couches. Baldassare stood firm, however, and walked at his own pace, already refusing to cooperate. But the other man paid no mind.

"So is 'Abhartach' an alias?" the vampire questioned while sitting down. His associates, however, continued to stand. "Or are you really the man of legend?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was?" the other replied with a question of his own as he joined Baldassare on the opposite side.

"I don't know. Nobody really knows what Abhartach looks like. There's very little description in the stories, if any at all."

"I see… I doubt the stories say that he wears sunglasses inside, to they?"

"Nor suits or man-buns, but I don't mind either way."

"Shall we get to business, then?" While Baldassare couldn't see his eyes through his glasses, he could still tell that the man was trying to stare him down as he asked this, but Baldassare would not back down.

"Let's." the vampire replied, staring right back. "I'm very curious as to why I was called here, you see. We've never met, nor do I have any contacts that have met you, either. I'm afraid I can't figure out what exactly it is that you want."

"Well, you came to the right place to find out." Abhartach stated. "Luckily it isn't anything too terribly serious, unless you allow it to get that way."

"Something tells me that I'm not going to like whatever it is you're about to ask, if you're startin' like that."

"Probably not." he continued. "To get to the point, I understand that you're a very important person within the supernatural community here in London. You're the leader of Girasol and you're on the town council in Gehenna. You also don't particularly care for humans. What I want to know is just how ambitious are you?"

"I don't follow." Baldassare answered, oozing indifference from every pore in order to remain somewhat in control of the situation.

"It's simple. I want Gehenna to be free from the control of humanity. My group and I can make that happen, of course, but we would prefer the cooperation of those on the inside so the transition can be peaceful. All you would have to do is convince the council and help us get past the wall."

"You're shitting me, right?" the vampire scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He casually plopped his feet down the coffeetable before resting one over the other, putting his nose up in the air as he looked down at Abhartach. "You must be out of your goddamn mind. If we kick out HELLSING, they're gonna come back and hit us hard, killing a bunch of people in the process. Fuck that. Offer me something better."

Blinking, the other man paused to take that in before throwing his head back in thunderous laughter. "You! You have a point, don't you?" inquired Abhartach. "You're right. Gehenna isn't really my end goal. It's just a stepping stone. I already have an army, but with the addition of Gehenna and its people, we will be unstoppable. HELLSING will not be able to stop us because we won't be attacking them head on. Tell me, Mister Baldassare, when attacking an enemy group, which person do you take out first?"

"The leader." Baldassare answered without thinking. "Take out the chain of command so the group scatters."

"Precisely. Now, there's no use in attacking HELLSING. No, our end goal is much higher than that. We will be attacking the crown itself and take it for our own. That way, HELLSING will no longer be a threat. They will take orders from us. As will the army. As will the humans. All it would take is one swift attack."

"Then why ask for our help if you've got a handle on this?"

"The more the merrier, of course. If we take Gehenna, their control will slip somewhat as they can no longer control the supernaturals. If anyone within the city wishes to aid us, as well, we will gladly take them and take back Britain for them. We will turn back the clock and make it so that humans and supernaturals can live together again. But this time, they aren't going to hurt us anymore."

"Which is it? Living in harmony or supremacy? You said supremacy earlier. I just want to make sure we're on the same page. More pressingly, however, I need something to guarantee me that you will follow through on your promise, given the massive risk cooperating with you will bring not only to me, but also my people. Y'see, if we get caught or you don't show up, HELLSING will crack down even harder and I won't be there anymore to support the city. Girasol will be weakened and won't be able to support anybody the way it should. Understand? I'm not gonna be left holding the bag, Mister Abhartach. What can you do to prove that you'll do as you say?"

"My, aren't you thorough?" Abhartach questioned and Baldassare waited for him to continue. He gave him reasonable time to answer, but he didn't, so the vampire continued for him.

"I've been burned on deals before, Mister Abhartach. It pays to be careful." Baldassare said. "This deal appears to have an extremely high amount of risk with very little probability for reward, from where I'm standing. Even then, Gehenna is running just fine as it is, leading me to worry about the impact that changing hands of leadership may have."

"You will have supernatural leaders and will no longer have to go through HELLSING in order to do anything. You will be able to say 'it is so,' and it will be."

"Our system works, Mister Abhartach. We are a democracy. Our council proposes bills and laws, it is reviewed by a representative of HELLSING, and then if both parties agree, it moves forward to a public vote. The people rule. Gehenna stands. It is an arrangement so sacred that the thought of changing from it to something else, whether better or worse, seems blasphemous. If you cannot guarantee that if we allow you in, that you will not defile that sanctity, I'm afraid I cannot fully commit to this arrangement."

It was a compelling argument and if Abhartach was sensible, he would leave it at that, but Baldassare knew better. In reality, Girasol was never going to consider the offer in the first place. It's no only risky, but more importantly, it was something that Baldassare could not bring himself to do. He couldn't betray the thing that he loves most: Gehenna. It was a city, but it was more than a city. To Baldassare, it was the hopes and dreams of not only himself, but also of others, given physical shape. It was a city, but he loved it like his own child, like it was his mother, and with a sense of divinity that matched that of a God. He loved Gehenna and he loved everyone who lived there. To him, that bond was the most sacred thing in the world and he would not betray it.

But he also knew that his lack of betrayal would not suit him, here. He could have lied and pretended to accept the offer, he knew. Then he would go back to HELLSING and report Abhartach immediately. As soon as he escaped, that's what he would do, but he couldn't do the lie. It wasn't because of his devotion to Gehenna, however. Instead, it was because as soon as he said "yes," they might pull a fast one on him and expect his cooperation tonight. It's happened before. Next thing he knows, he's shoved into a van and is now accessory to a crime he didn't plan on committing.

So he knew he was more than likely going to need to fight his way out, but he remained calm. The reason why he knew this was because he suspected Abhartach of knowing exactly what his intentions were. Abhartach couldn't let him go back to HELLSING, so they both were going to have to resort to violence. The question was, however: which one of them was going to shoot first?

"That's very unfortunate, Mister Baldassare." Abhartach finally said, leaning all the way back into his own sofa and propping both arms up on the back of it, leaving himself completely exposed. "It is a most beneficial opportunity for your people. But… I suppose you can't help people who don't want to be helped."

With that, he made a flicking motion with his hand and both the woman that let them in and the man standing behind Abhartach known as "Feargus" drew pistols, as did everyone from the Girasole party, including Baldassare himself. Knowing that his own guards had their guns drawn on Ahbartach's, he fired his weapon, emptying his entire magazine into the other man's chest while he heard two gunshots coming from elsewhere in the room. It all happened in an instant before the world seemed to stop again. When it did, Baldassare's eyes widened.

The other man's chest was filled with holes with blood staining the entire front of his suit. Baldassare could see that he had shot Abhartach in the heart at least once, but the other man continued to smile at him. He didn't seem to even flinch.

"Ho-how?" Baldassare demanded. "These were antifreak bullets! They should have killed a vampire like you!"

"Who said I was a vampire? The modern interpretations of the Abhartach legend?" the other man questioned. He laughed at Baldassare's mistake, breaking the man's concentration on him long enough for Baldassare to reassess the situation. His eyes drifted to the area just behind Abhartach and he saw that the bodygaurd that was there was still standing. Yet, Baldassare smelled the very heavy scent blood.

"No..." he breathed.

"Vampires are wonderful, yes, but I prefer werewolf guards." Abhartach stated. "They're much faster. It's sort of a shame I wasn't reborn as one myself."

Baldassare's guards were dead. He knew this now. He didn't need to look behind him. With that, the other man reached up and pinched the leg of his sunglasses between his fingers before slowly taking them off. They weren't red like Baldassare expected. Rather, they were a vibrant green. The most striking thing about them, however, was the fact that they were pitch black where white should have been.

"The thing about legends is that they aren't always completely accurate." he said. "It's hard to actually know who did what and what they said. I rose up out of the grave, yes, and I was obviously not a ghoul. I demanded sacrifice for what was done to me, but while that is rather compelling evidence, the truth is a bit different. I hear you're a pretty smart man, Baldassare." Pausing, Abhartach stood, towering over Baldassare and blocking out the light with his head. The back of the couch he sat on was ruined from the bullets going right through him and blood staining the white fabric. "But then again, so am I."

Baldassare glared defiantly at him throughout the entire ordeal. He was ignored, however, as Abhartach's eyes shifted from him to one of his associates. "Claire." he called out. "Assist Mister Baldassare."

Next thing Baldassare knew, there was the coldness of a metal gun barrel pressed up against his temple. "Stand up, Mister Baldassare." Claire instructed him, but Baldassare was still more than reluctant to obey.

The next day, dawn broke and Baldassare wasn't home.