A forlorn face stared out the window at Lexington manor, watching the woods that surrounded the property. She knew already that there were more HELLSING operatives hiding out there. It scared her, as most of the soldiers had been moved and hidden so that they would be accessible on the day of the next invasion. There were still enough Philosophers left to protect the place, but that didn't set her at ease.

Her world seemed to be falling apart. First, her fiance had disappeared and been branded a traitor and now this. Evangeline hadn't the faintest idea as to what had gotten into him! While true, she knew that he wasn't happy to be marrying her, she didn't think it was bad enough to flee. Perhaps it was all her fault. When her father takes over, Farroel would be hunted down and killed on sight. It was a thought that was difficult to come to terms with, as not only had she loved him, she had known him for most of her life! She knew that things would change as soon as the plan was put into effect, but never did she suspect things would end up like this and especially not so quickly. A sigh escaped her lips as she lamented this turn of events.

"Guess who." a voice called from behind her as its owner covered her eyes. She jumped, genuinely startled, before relaxing and starting to laugh.

"Father." she smiled, prompting the man to release her with a chuckle.

"At last, I get to see your smile again." Abhartach remarked. "Why do you hide it from me, daughter? What ails you?"

"I'm anxious about this and that." Evangeline confessed. "This war is frightening. It's difficult to sleep knowing there are assassins out there in the trees, and although he is a traitor, it is hard not to feel longing for Farroel to return."

"Indeed… Those are things that would rob one of their smile..." the man nodded, putting one hand behind his back while the other rested on his child's shoulder. "I will not allow any harm to come to you, so fret not, my flower. As for a broken heart, that may be more difficult to fix. Once Britain is mine, I wish to find you a suitable noble to marry, but you must find a way to forget about that thing.

"Not a supernatural?"

"Oh, no. I forbid it." Abhartach answered. "With your brother gone, it is your task to carry on in his place and to do that, the man you marry must be human so our blood remains untainted."

"I see..." agreed the woman. She did not question this in the slightest. "If that is the case, then I will do what I must."

"Thank you for understanding. It is preferable that we integrate into British society as to best appease the people for now. It is also best that our blood stay genuinely noble."

"Are the Whelans not noble?"

"Feargus won't be. Whether or not they have a place in our ranks rests solely on his daughter, now. But, that is not of your concern. Worry instead of your own marriage and getting enough sleep."

"I will." Evangeline smiled. "But what of that other woman? The one that Philip was engaged to?"

"I will handle it, my flower. Worry not. She will not die. She is still far too useful to us." Leaning down slightly, he kissed the top of his daughter's head before turning to walk away. "I must go. I have other things I must attend to."

"Alright." his daughter answered as he walked away, assuming it to be extremely important to the mission.

In a way, it was, but mostly, it wasn't. It was important to the aftermath of his victory, but in the near future, it wouldn't be applicable. He simply didn't have the necessary time to invest in it at the moment. That didn't mean that he couldn't get started on the thought.

Gently, he knocked on the door his target was hiding behind, giving her warning before stepping in. There was no lock, so it was relatively easy, save for the chair the woman had shoved underneath the knob. With a huff, Abhartach stepped away for a moment and rammed into the barrier with his shoulder, knocking it out of the way and causing the woman inside to jump. Straightening his wardrobe, he bent down and picked up the now overturned and slightly damaged chair up and placed it upright again before turning his attention to the rather sour face staring at him.

"You could have asked me to move it, you know." Sasha complained, but Abhartach doubted her.

"Would you have if I did?" he questioned. "There is no reason to block the door. You are perfectly safe, here."

"Am I? Last time I checked, my stupid brother was running around. That's not a safe situation for any girl, quite frankly." the Pomeroy stated.

"Well, rest assured, both your older and younger brother are elsewhere, preparing for the invasion."

"Then why don't I feel safe? It's probably due to the fact that I'm probably going to be killed off, now that my 'fiance' has run off. If not, then I'm not sure what you want with me. My guess is that it can't be anything good."

"Well, if you want answers, I'll give them to you, but you probably won't like them." the man told her, walking forward. "You won't be killed, I can promise you that. Your blood is still far too valuable to us."

"So you're gonna marry me off and have somebody else knock me up? Super."

"'Going to.'" Abhartach corrected. "I understand you're mixed with commoners, but there is no reason to act like it. I know it doesn't sound too terribly exciting, but it is the way things are at the top. You can either accept and adapt to it, or try leaping from the window."

"I can't. You lot locked it." Sasha growled.

"So we did… It is not going to be horrible, I assure you. You will live the life of a noblewoman! Surely it must be better than whatever your human-trafficker of a father had in mind for you. You will live in luxury and good taste, free from the dangerous and disgusting men who hung around you previously."

"Except for the dangerous and disgusting man who would make me his wife against my will..."

To that, the man laughed. "Your mind is something that can be changed in time. Fear not, I won't force myself on you like some kind of brute. In my time, I've learned that it is better to win people over with kindness than violence. You will see that this is the best option soon enough."

"What is this?" Sasha shook her head. "Some kind of bizarre punishment for the shit that my father did? If you touch me, I'll cut your bloody balls off."

"You are certainly free to try. I do hope you will at least grant me the courtesy of a fighting chance, however. Allow me the opportunity to court you instead of deciding you despise me out of nowhere. It is not my fault that your father sent you here. It is also not my fault that my son decided to turn traitor and abandon his duties, just as it isn't your fault that you are afraid. Come to dinner with me. Allow me to show you a world that you never would have had access to had you not come here."

"And if I say 'no?'"

"I didn't ask." Abhartach pointed out before turning to talk out of the room. "I'll send someone to come get you when the time comes."

Control was important. Abhartach was immortal, so having a legacy wasn't a necessity, but it was important for him to establish a strong royal family to replace the one that he was about to depose. The island rallied behind their leaders. It was culturally important. Thus, he had to make it seem as though little was immediately changing for him to maintain control. At least, that's what he told himself.

Strategy was important, but war was ultimately selfish. Few benefited while many suffered. That is why Alois couldn't simply attack Abhartach's forces inside Gehenna. There were too many civilians. If he tried, they would immediately be caught in the crossfire. Ultimately, that is not what the Phantomhive wanted, so instead, he decided to menace.

His feet planted on the ground as he hopped over the wall. Despite knowing that he was on the outskirts of town, everything felt so lifeless. Perhaps it was the cold air and the overcast sky, or just the knowledge that the town was in disarray.

"I'm in." he said, weaving the threads of his demon garb so that they concealed the microphone around his throat.

"Be careful." his husband replied, being heard through Alois' earpiece. "If things get out of hand, it will take a few minutes for supernatural aid."

"I've got this." reassured the blonde, altering his appearance so his eyes and hair were pigmented differently. To those who knew him, he looked rather strange with black hair and green eyes, but to the enemy, they wouldn't know the difference. As an extra measure, he downsized, taking on the appearance of a harmless child.

"How's my voice?" he asked. "Is it convincing? Higher? Lower?"

"I can't recognise it, so there's that." Ciel stated, giving Alois the assurance he needed. "You still have your funny accent, though."

"I'll get rid of my bullshit poshness, then."

"Language."

"Eat shit." the menace promptly answered before running into town. "Operation 'Guilt-trip' is on."

The "boy" wandered and evaluated the situation in Gehenna. Morale seemed low, but it would on the surface. Word was that the resistance was quite optimistic about how things were going to go. It seemed like the Philosopher's forces were getting less diligent about punishing every offense. They were even reading the literature that HELLSING occasionally dropped on the city, causing the menace to believe that they were starting to wonder about things as well.

He was about to test his theories about them by doing something rather silly. Picking up a stone, he spotted a group of faoladh soldiers and contemplated the many ways that this could go. Either they get angry and threaten him, or let it go. If they didn't do the latter and attacked him, he would have to find a way to lose them. Or, he could just kill them. He would have to hide their remains, though, if he didn't want to set the whole lot of them on edge. Thinking better, he placed the stone in his pocket and kept walking. It wasn't necessary enough to be worth the risk, as much as he wanted to punish them for setting foot on his turf. As he stepped out from his hiding place and was spotted, however, they didn't react with the sort of indifference he expected.

"Ooh! Look at him!" one of them cooed with a massive grin, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"What? Oh, a kid..." said another, placing a hand on her hip.

"Isn't he cute? Look at those eyes! They're so green! Hello, Little Green-eyes!" Enthusiastically, the woman waved at Alois and since he was still weighing the situation, he decided that the best thing to do would be to hesitantly wave back.

"Yeah, he's cute. You don't have to squeal over every kid we meet, you know."

"Oh, Grianne, you just don't get it… Even though we're warriors, our kind are supposed to be protective of children!"

"Isn't that true for everybody?"

"Yes, but we're legendary for it. Doesn't it make sense? It's hard for us to have our own, so we take care of other peoples'!"

"Well, if you believe the enemy propaganda, all it takes is a quick change, so why not have your own?"

"I'm going to try it when I get home." spoke the first.

"What?!"

"What do you mean, 'what?' Of course I'm gonna try it! We won't ever know if it's true or not, otherwise! Don't act like you don't think it would be nice to see a few pups running around? That's the whole point of all of this, isn't it? Let's help it along!"

"You're in my town so you can have babies?" Alois asked in a deceptively innocent tone, while tugging on the cape of the faoladh known as "Grianne."

"Huh?" Grianne questioned, while her compatriot crouched down and chimed in.

"I'm afraid so, Greenie. If we're able to make a place for ourselves, we'll be able to have more cute babies like you!"

"Why can't you just move here?" Alois pressed further. "You didn't have to be mean to everybody. You could've just moved here."

"It's… a little more complicated than that… We need humans to be around and this town doesn't have humans..."

"Yeah it does! There were a bunch of humans here earlier! I don't know where they went, though…There's also sorcerers! My friend has a daddy whose a werewolf like I do, only his mama's a witch!"

"Well… I guess there is that..." the first woman answered the boy as he tried to "help" her. She seemed less enthusiastic, now. There was a bit of guilt in her voice as the gears continued to turn. She wasn't quite there, yet, but Alois was more than willing to assist her.

"Uh-uh! Our daddies are gonna take us to Andrea's to get new clothes when we change for the first time! You can't run around outside naked, you know! Mama said she'd go with us so he doesn't pick out anything that isn't cool!"

"Is your mama a witch, too?"

"No, she's human." Now he was going to put the final nail in the coffin. For a moment, he stopped playing with the woman's cape and looked down. "I'm trying to find a witch, though… Mama's been asleep for a few days after somebody hit her on the head… Daddy won't let me see her because she's hurt real bad and he won't stop crying, so I need to find a witch so she can get better!"

Both of the soldier's faces went white as a sheep as their stomachs fell into the dirt at their feet. Of course, it was all a lie, but they drew the exact conclusions that Alois wanted them to. He played from a position of innocence at the scenario they were hoping for, then allowed them to run into the most probable conclusion. It was his hope that it would spread like a virus as they returned to their own ranks.

"I've gotta go now." he said, letting go of the woman's cape before adopting a determined expression. "The old lady should be awake, so I need to go to her house! Bye-bye!"

"W-wait! I-!" the faoladh began before being thwacked on the head by her compatriot.

"You idiot! What are you going to say to him?!"

"But-!"

"We'll talk about this later..."

Perfect. It went just as Alois planned. He walked by a few more faoladh with the appearance of the same child a he made his way through town, making sure he waved at them so they would know of him when those first two women brought him up later. All of this depended on tragedy.

Sometimes, his husband would speak of his time in war and his encounters with both enemies and allies alike. The thing about soldiers as a general rule is that they are not perfect fighting machines. They are still people, so they have all of the flaws that people have. They can break in mind, body, or spirit, and they can make mistakes. More importantly, however, most people don't enjoy killing whatsoever. Not even Alois himself did, and that's why he, like other killers spent time justifying his actions to himself. Entire nations spend not only time, but resources on this so it's a little bit easier for their soldiers to do. That is what propaganda is for: to strip the idea of "personhood" from a group of people, because it is easier to destroy a "thing" than a person.

If they are "people," then they have lives like one's own. They have hopes, dreams, and ambitions. They have friends and families who love and care about them. There are other people who will miss them when they are gone, and who they will miss if the same happens in reverse. It is so much harder to kill someone that one can see oneself in. It is so much harder to kill someone with the knowledge that the situation could just as easily be reversed and it could be you in their place, instead. Would they grant the same amount of mercy? Can "things" feel pain? Can monsters feel pain? Can they feel loss? Can they feel sorrow? What right does one have to destroy another person's world for the benefit of oneself? Is that not what a monster does? Indeed, it is so.

If these soldiers were people and they had a shred of humanity within them, the knowledge would horrify them. That is what Alois intended to do. He would shatter the illusion that Abhartach and Feargus had constructed. He would wake the Philosophers from their dream and expose it as the nightmare it truly was. He could not take them down with violence, as with any war, the greatest amount of casualties would be from civilians, so he would take them down with other means. As much as he loathed them for attacking his city, he knew that revenge would not solve this.

He changed his face again. This time, adding freckles to his cheeks to suit the red hair on his head. This time, he was looking for one woman in particular, but knew that it would take a while to find her. He had no idea where she was and he had no real way of finding out, so it could take him hours.

Hours was not an amount of time that everyone had. Kristopherson had given plenty, but hadn't many more to spare. He, along with his boyfriend and coworkers had been trapped in the saferoom for weeks, and things were getting rather dire. While they had eaten a lot of the food, they still had plenty to last another two weeks or so, but that wasn't the case for everyone. Logan was starting to lose his blue hue, growing paler as they continued to exist in this single room. He was thin, with dark circles around his eyes. It wasn't good for any of them mentally, but there was more at stake than their sanity. Logan was starving to death in a room full of food. The incubus rested his head on his knees as he hugged his legs, tiredly leaning against Kristopherson in complete silence as the wolfman stared at the laptop screen.

Apart from the occasional person walking by the store, there wasn't much activity out there anymore. Now the only form of information on the outside world came from daily calls from the menace, although he hadn't much to report, most of the time. It was growing harder and harder to pass the time while they waited for something to happen. As time went on, the group became more and more restless until finally, Kristopherson had to put the laptop aside.

"About what size is everyone?" he asked, beckoning the attention of his compatriots.

"What?" asked Mister Steele, blinking with a vacant expression on his face.

"What size of clothing? I want a change, so I'm going upstairs." the wolfman stated. Despite the scariness of his words, all the other could do was laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's dangerous up there."

"Yeah, well I'm going mental down here. I'm going up, so Abhartach can kiss my gay ass." Standing up, Kristopherson straightened the questionably sanitary garments he had on before bending down and pecking his boyfriend on the top of his head. "I'll be right back."

"Wait, I'll go, too..." Logan replied, finally looking up.

"Nah. I don't want you to see my tantrum when I get a good look at what they've done to my shop." the faux-blonde replied.

While Kristopherson looked rather messy with his now full beard, Logan looked far worse. He didn't want to admit that the reason why he didn't want the incubus to go was because he was severely weakened. At the very least, he wanted to make sure it was safe. In this environment, Logan didn't think he would last much longer. He, himself estimated that after another week, he might not be able to recover. Alois needed to work fast if he was going to save him and Kristopherson was growing impatient.

Collecting himself, the wolfman began climbing the ladder that led out of there and undid the hatch. It led behind a secret door in the back of the store. Once he was out, he closed it all back so it wouldn't be found if he was caught before making his way to the front. From there, he checked for damage. The front door was kicked in and the place was ransacked. Goods were stolen and strewn about while the cash register was completely empty despite it not being so when he left it. With a heavy sigh, he closed it back, wondering how he was going to fix all of this before hearing a rather distinct sound.

"Don't move." Claire ordered, cocking her pistol as she aimed it right at the man. He didn't react immediately, feeling too tired to feel scared before finally looking up.

"Hello." He said. "Welcome to Andrea's. How can I help you?"

"What are you doing in this store?" the woman questioned. "It's against the law to loot businesses."

"Really? That's interesting, because I distinctly saw a couple of your girls taking from my store. I didn't think it was stealing if I own the place, but I guess the definition changed over the past few weeks."

"State your identity."

"Kristopherson Thomas Miles, owner of Andreas'. Who the fuck are you, Trixie trigger finger?"

The crudeness of the man's words and the disinterest in his voice threw Claire off guard for a moment. No one had ever spoken to her that way before and the bluntness of it all made her answer quite thoughtlessly. "Claire." She said. "Claire Whelan..."

"Well, Claire Whelan, I'd appreciate it if you'd either lower the gun or shoot me. The anticipation isn't good for my nerves." Kristopherson told her, speaking with equal thoughtlessness. "They've been shot already, so I'm in a bit of a weird place between fight or flight and pure exhaustion. Ordinarily, when somebody points a gun at me in my store, I call the police, but that's not an option anymore. Not to sound accusatory or anything, but you lot kind of screwed that up for us."

"You should speak with more respect." the faoladh growled. "I am the daughter of the commander of our forces here in Gehenna. If I kill you, there would be no consequences."

"There would be no consequences if you were the lowest of you lot. You don't exactly police yourselves. Why the hell should I respect that? You're the daughter of some guy nobody cares about and everybody wishes would leave. You've uprooted everybody's lives here in Gehenna, destroyed our homes and property, robbed us, beat us, killed us, and for what? What could you possibly want that's so fucking important that you're willing to fuck over complete strangers who didn't do a damn thing to you like this?"

That seemed to get under her skin. She lowered the gun, pointing it to the ground, now hesitating as she looked at the man. "We want a future." She said. "Our species is dying out. At this rate, though, I'm not sure whose fault is it."

"Is it ours?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I don't know." Claire answered. "I'm not even sure there is a problem in the first place or if we just made it up."

"Then stop."

"It's not that simple..."

"It seems pretty simple to me." Kristopherson stated. "Just stop invading. If you want to settle somewhere, settle in Pyestock. Maybe you could even settle in Gehenna, if you unfuck the place. You should've done that from the start."

"We do not wish to be under the rule of HELLSING."

"We're not under the rule of HELLSING. We have our own officials, if you haven't killed all of them off already like you did Baldassare." Suddenly, the woman's face dropped, causing Kristopherson to sigh before continuing. "Look, we have our own unique way of life, here. Everything was peaceful and we were thriving before you showed up. This town was under supernatural rule already. You could've been a part of it, if you had stopped to think for five seconds before destroying it."

He waited for the woman to speak, but she didn't for what seemed like a very long time. It annoyed Kristopherson, so he spoke up. "Well?" he asked. "Say something. The person I'm in love with is dying and my friends are in God knows what kind of condition for no reason and you've got nothing to say?"

With that, her brow furrowed at him. Angrily, she put her pistol back in it's holster. "You have a nice day, sir." she said before turning to walk away.

In a huff, she shoved open the door to Andrea's before heading out onto the street and looked around. It was completely dead outside. The only people who were occupying the street were the invading forces, since the regular citizens were too terrified of leaving their homes. They weren't even safe there, but it was a bit safer than outside. Why was that? Weren't they supposed to be liberated from HELLSING's tyranny? Weren't they supposed to be glad? The Philosophers and the Gehennans were meant to be brothers and sisters in arms, but that simply didn't happen. Claire looked for any signs, but only managed to stumbled about like she was waking up from a dream. Her annoyance melted as an uneasy feeling bubbled up in her stomach, but she could not place it. If she was dreaming all this time, then why did she feel so tired?

Her ordeal was far from over as while she continued to walk aimlessly, two of her compatriots practically tackled her, pulling her out of her daze. Blinking, she saw the two faoladh, both of whom she recognised as skilled warriors, wrought with heavy consciences. "Claire!" one of them urgently began. "We don't know what to do!"

"Calm down!" the Whelan immediately blurted out. "Get a hold of yourselves. What happened?"

"There was this boy! A little kid! It's awful… He's wandering around, looking for a witch!"

"We think our forces might have killed his mother." Grianne explained. "She's human. His father's a werewolf. He said that she hasn't moved since she was hit on the head a few days ago. He doesn't seem to realise what's wrong."

"What?" Claire asked in return, raising her brows as her eyes widened.

Blow after blow landed upon her as the menace's plan unfolded. He had actually intended to land another hit, but it seemed as though Kristopherson had already beaten him to the punch. The wolfman's heart raced as the gravity of the situation dawned on him and his demonic friend watched from an inconspicuous distance. Alois knew he would have to thank Mister Miles later, but for now, he had to reevaluate his next move.

"New plan:" he said into his microphone so the others at headquarters could hear him. "I'm gonna go in for the kill tonight."


A/N: It's harder to get these published... I'm chipping away at it bit by bit. I wanted to update as quick as I could, though, so I cut it short. The next chapter will bring us closer to everything. I want to just get this over with, but I can only work so fast, I'm afraid...

I want... PUNCHES... Not strategy...

PUNCH!

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!