It was dark out. The Philosophers traded off for the day, having those who were supposed to be awake during the day trade with the night shift so they could turn in for the night. Claire did not, however. She had something she needed to attend to first.

It came out of nowhere. Some kid ran up to her and forced a piece of paper into her hand. On it had a location, a time, and the instruction to come alone. There would be only one person at the meeting place and they would be unarmed. It was the resistance.

Now, her sound mind would have reported this immediately, but given all that the woman had seen and heard as of late, she was curious. She was curious as to what on earth they wanted to speak to her about. She wanted to know what they knew about the faoladh and whether or not they were lying. It was curiosity that would lead to her downfall as she made her way to an old shack on the odd side of town.

This area was actually populated, believe it or not. There were tents and shacks all built out of odds and ends found God knows where, but they were surprisingly cozy. The one that Claire was directed to had smoke coming out of a hole in the roof as a fire warmed its inside. It looked absolutely harmless, but she didn't want to risk anything. After all, Baldassare thought he was stepping into just a regular meeting when her superiors killed him, so there was no such thing as being "too cautious."

Quietly, she prowled the area, making sure she wasn't seen or heard as she approached. It was freezing outside, but sweat gathered at her brow as her heart pounded in her chest. She could hardly see through the pitch-blackness, but the soft glow of the fire lit the way. She couldn't tell how many people were in there, so she didn't know just how big of a trap this could be. It was a definite possibility that the resistance representative lied about being unarmed. After all, she herself would want a weapon in hand if it were her. That's why she had a firm grip on her pistol as she approached.

Reaching out, she placed her hand against the door, gathering her nerve. Taking in a breath, she steeled herself and pushed against it, abruptly swinging it open as she aimed her gun at the firs person she saw. It was a rather pretty-looking blonde man, seated on the floor of the shack with his legs crossed. Instead of acknowledging her right away, he continued to poke the fire in front of him in the middle of the room with a stick.

"Be careful." he finally said. "Someone could find this building really useful when we're done. It could become a home, so don't break it."

"Sorry..." the faoladh immediately answered without thinking, lowering her gun for just a moment before realising what she was doing. Shaking her head, her expression became serious.

"It's alright." Alois reassured. "Close the door and take a seat. It's cold."

Cautiously, Claire reached behind her without looking and shut the door. She refused to take her eyes off of the menace for even a second. It was a wise move, as she still wasn't sure of his true intentions.

"You can keep the gun on you if it helps you feel safer." added the Phantomhive while gesturing for her to sit across from him on the other side of the fire. His speech took her completely by surprise. It was casual, like they were merely talking over tea. It was like there was no war. There was no conflict. He sounded calm and most terrifyingly of all: rational.

"I don't really wanna start a fight, here." he continued. "That's actually why I asked you to come. I'm sorry for not giving you much detail, but I didn't want to risk having you go report everything to your boss before I can make my case."

Claire eventually did sit down, but she kept her weapon trained on the menace at all times. Even with the proximity and enclosed space, the menace did not seem afraid. Somehow, it made her feel less anxious, as it was intended to.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked. "Why not shoot me on sight?"

"Because that wouldn't do anything. If anything, it would make things a million times worse." Alois informed. "Let me introduce myself: I am known as 'The Honourable Jim Phantomhive,' also known as just: 'The Lion.' I'm in charge of HELLSING's current operation to get Gehenna back under control."

"Claire." the woman replied, getting the formalities out of the way. "I am Claire Whelan, daughter of Lord Feargus Whelan of the army of 'the Vampire of Derry', His Majesty King Abhartach."

It was a long explanation, but she wanted to be thorough. "If you're in charge of the operation, what are you doing here? Where are your guards? If you intend to get Gehenna back under your control, then why talk?"

With a pause, Alois let out a short, controlled sigh as he tried to think of the best way to explain things. "Because I want what's best for Gehenna." he stated. "I actually worked really hard to make this town what it is. I worked together with the town council to put together laws to protect the citizens from internal threats while I also worked with HELLSING in order to ensure that the town was sustainable. Right now, my biggest concern isn't the fact that it is currently under your control, it's that people are struggling to get the resources that they need at the moment."

"Like what?"

"Food, for starters… Right now, the vampire population is concerned because HELLSING would supply the city with donated blood in order to sustain them. Without it, they will have to find food from another source and the results of that will be pretty nasty for everyone involved. We don't want to fight them because it isn't their fault and they don't want to hurt people either. This agreement between Gehenna and HELLSING actually reduced the number of vampire-related attacks in the country by an incredibly significant margin, so fewer vampires killed and are killed overall. That's why we have this arrangement. When Gehenna was invaded, we became unable to deliver supplies."

"I..." That was a lot of information. Claire was by no means "simple-minded," but it was still hard to take in. She hadn't even considered that this might be a problem. It seemed like none of their group did. "Wait… That's… Reasonable?"

"Sorry, that's a lot of information… When it comes to waging war, if you remove a system, you need to have something to replace it, or else it will all fall apart." the Phantomhive said. "After surveying your forces, it doesn't seem like there is anything there. At the very least, we need to make sure that these people are taken care of before anything else can be done."

"Wait, wait… Hold on… I'm still… What? That's… Reasonable! There has to be a catch..."

"Ordinarily, there would probably be, but I don't care about tricking you." That was a half-lie, but she didn't need to know that. "I want to be transparent with you. We don't want to fight you. Do you know what group of people is most likely to die in a war?"

"Soldiers?"

"Civilians." Alois bluntly informed with a rather serious expression. "If either side gets aggressive, then every single citizen inside of Gehenna will be caught in the crossfire. There isn't any point in trying to save Gehenna if we're just going to decimate the population, Miss Whelan."

"So you're stuck." Claire observed. "We've taken the city hostage."

"Exactly." For a moment, the woman across from the Phantomhive wondered if he was insane for admitting that, or just plain stupid. "Tell me, is this the first war you've fought in?"

Now suspicious, the woman stiffened and narrowed her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"Because of the way your troops operate." the menace informed. "You invaded with no understanding of the place you're conquering, you have no system to replace the one you've overthrown, essentially crippling the city's ability to function, and you've only brought combat-related troops. They're all giveaways. So, you don't want to fight either. You're trapped here. Moreover, you're trapped here with a bunch of vampires who could start biting any day, now. Both of us are stuck."

"What do you suggest we do?" the Whelan questioned, her demeanor strict and rigid as she tried to puff herself up to seem more intimidating. "You don't want Gehenna to die."

"There are many facets of war, Miss Whelan. When physical confrontation fails, there is only one thing left to do: negotiate."

"You..." Blinking, the word sunk into the woman's mind, causing her to lower her gun a bit. "I'm not authorised to handle negotiation. You need to talk to my father instead."

"Talking to him will be useless. He's not open to negotiation. He wants everyone to fight so he can keep his position. If we tried, he would use the fact that we don't want to harm the general populace against us, instead."

"That's true..." Claire confessed, finally lowering the gun altogether. She kept it in her hand for safekeeping, but her heart and mind was being swayed. "We don't want to hurt the citizens, either. We just want to have a world where the faoladh can exist freely. We also wish to rejuvenate our dwindling population."

"I heard from Farroel." Alois told her, causing her brows to raise.

"You… You know where my brother is?"

"Of course! He turned over the Gardening Center to us in order to secure the safety of both himself, his spouse, and the people inside."

"His spouse? Oh… Do you mean… Philip?"

"Yes. They eloped when they filled out the paperwork for housing. They wanted a safe place to live so they could be together in peace. They're slated to move to the town of Pyestock under a new shared surname. The other faoladh are in the process of being registered as well."

"So… Is that what you will give us in return?" the woman questioned. "A place to live among supernaturals?"

"Yes." the Phantomhive affirmed without a single shred of deceit. "We are willing to give you the same if you cooperate with us like they did. You will be cleared of your crimes against us, as well. Your people will be able to live freely among supernaturals in a place for supernaturals by supernaturals."

"We wouldn't have to hide..." Claire thought aloud, looking down. "If you haven't lied to us, we would have what we want without anyone getting hurt… This fight is pointless… It's… So simple..."

"I don't want it to be complicated. I want things to be as smooth as possible."

"But why?" the Whelan questioned, looking up again. "Why are you like this? You're working for HELLSING, aren't you? There's no reason why you should care about us and there's no reason why you should be so invested in keeping supernaturals alive that you refuse to take back territory. It doesn't make any sense."

That made a surprised expression appear on the menace's face. Arching an eyebrow with a frown, he looked away while rubbing the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. "I have my reasons..." he said. "To me, it's not about HELLSING and you. All that doesn't really matter right now. It's just about doing the right thing. Just like your people are counting on you, mine are counting on me. It's my job to protect them. If I fail… Well… Then I don't really know what I'll do..."

There was hesitance for a moment before finally Claire spoke. "So it really means a lot to you, then..."

"It does… I can't really explain it, but it's just something I have to do…" That was a lie. He could explain it. It was just too painful to do so. He also couldn't do it in front of his foe while she was still only wavering.

Raising his head, the man stated: "We both want to protect our people, so I believe that it is best if we protect our people together rather than apart. Our protection will extend to you, rather than work against you."

"Why are you talking to me, though?" the woman questioned further. "I can't do anything. Father won't listen, but he's the only one who can do anything at this point. It's hopeless. Even if the stars aligned and everything fell into place, there's no way that we would ever be accepted. Not after this or after we killed that Girasol guy..."

"Baldassare was my fault." Jim stated. "I could have warned him about the danger of meeting with you. We know about you then. I didn't warn him and he died. I didn't know he was going to meet with you, but I should have. As for where you will go, you will be sent to Pyestock as well. They will know less about the things done, here. I will handle it without fail."

"I want some certainty before I even consider thinking about it. I don't know you. I don't know any of you. I don't know anything about you. I know my people, but you… But what choice is there?"

"It's either join or die. We'd rather have the former than the prior, for both of our sakes... It's hard… It's scary… This is scary for me, too… I want my people to come out of this okay just as much as you want yours to. I owe it to them and a lot more. I'm not appealing to you as a representative of HELLSING. I'm appealing to you as a fellow person."

"You want me to kill my father, don't you?" Claire asked, taking the demon by surprise. "I know that's what I need to do. His Majes- I mean, Abhartach… wants me to do it as well. This world of clans and legacies… It's too much… I don't want to fight anymore… I don't want to keep forcing myself not to connect with anybody else because of my status. I just… I don't know…"

"You want to be able to live your life on your terms." Alois concluded for her.

"Yes..." the woman nodded solemnly. "I don't know how to do that, though. I've never tried. And to get there, I would need to kill one more person..."

Pausing, the menace tried to think of a way to answer sympathetically. "Listen… I wasn't raised with either of my parents, so I don't really know what it's like… To tell you the truth, I don't even know if I could manage being in your position-"

"I hate him." Claire stated. "I want to love him. I want to gain his approval, but I'll never be enough for him. He'll never do what's right for the faoladh. He'll only continue to control them, yet… He's the only parent I have…"

"You say that you don't know how to be 'you.' You've been controlled your whole life, so you don't even have a concept of who 'you' are. There is an idea, however, that a person's true self is revealled in times when they are forced to make tough decisions..." Subconsciously, the menace clenched his fist. "I know about that firsthand... I can't make this choice for you, Miss Whelan. I can't force you to do anything. All I can do is simply ask you to cooperate with us and assure you that a peaceful surrender will be beneficial to both of us."

Claire thought for a while. She wanted to consider this carefully, although her gut led her to one conclusion over the other. It was important to weigh all of her options, It was possible that Alois was lying, after all. It was also possible that she was wrong about her assumptions about her father and the situation at hand. Then, a thought occurred to her.

"I want to talk to my brother." she said. "You have him, don't you? I want to hear from him about how you deal with this sort of situation."

"Understood." nodded the menace, but then he did something fairly strange. He started talking, but obviously wasn't talking to her. "Lion to HQ, please get Mister Farroel Faelad on the radio. His sister wants to talk to him as part of negotiation."

A few moments passed before he nodded again. "They said they'll go get him." he told the woman. "It will be a few minutes."

The threads of his demonic garb loosened, revealing the communication device that attached to a collar-like attachment around his neck. Removing his earpiece, he unfastened the device before turning up the volume so that the other could hear what was going on. "The bit on the choker is the microphone." he informed. "When he comes on, talk into that."

They waited. The minutes pass on like hours as they waited for Farroel to speak. Finally, the radio became lively and a voice could be heard from the earpiece.

"Hello?" it called out. "Claire? Are you there?"

"Farroel!" the woman answered back. "What happened to you?! Where are they keeping you?!"

"Whoa!" uttered the older of the Whelan siblings, surprised by his sister's unusual urgency. "Relax, I'm fine. I'm at HELLSING headquarters, for now, but I won't be for long… I… Uh… I'm going to live in Pyestock, soon. Right now, I'm trying to get the money to live on until I can find a proper job, there. Philip is, too."

"I already know about that!" Claire replied. "How are they treating you? Is everyone from the Gardening Center alright? They didn't doublecross you, did they?"

"We're all alright, actually! Some of us don't really have nice rooms, since they're trying to house all of us at once, but people are moving out alright. They also weren't too pleased that I gave them the wrong invasion date, so I was punished a bit for that, but other than that, I'm alright. They just put me in one of the dungeon cells for two nights and interrogated me again. It wasn't anything major."

"That's a relief..." the woman sighed, visibly relaxing for the first time since this meeting. "I was worried they lied to you and were torturing you or something."

"I can see that. I'm sorry I left without explaining anything… I was worried you'd tell father… But no, I'm being treated rather well, here. The staff are very courteous."

"Thank God… I was so worried… I have my own conclusions as to why you left, but we can talk about it later. Right now, there's a problem. I'm being asked by Mister Phantomhive to stage a coup against father and surrender Gehenna peacefully, but I'm not sure if they can deliver on their promises..."

"What were the promises?"

"Safety from retribution for what we've done in Gehenna, a place in Pyestock, and he says that it's likely that we can grow our population if we integrate ourselves there. What are your thoughts?"

"I believe he will fulfill those promises." Farroel answered dutifully. "He hasn't failed me yet. What about you? What do you think?"

"I… I'm tempted, but a mistake here could be fatal… I wanted to know if his words hold any weight or not before I do anything."

"Sounds like you're set to be the leader, then."

"What?! No! I- I can't. You are the oldest and I've never been trained in that field!"

"Claire, we both know I'm not suited to be head of the clan..." the man stated. "I'm weak and I run away from things. You're strong and you always have the best interests of everybody in mind. If I didn't think I could have saved everyone in the Gardening Center, I would have just saved myself… Besides, I can't produce an heir… If the doctors at HELLSING are right, you can."

"We don't know that..."

"I believe them." Farroel told her, sounding optimistic. Then, his tone became more serious. "I… I know I can't create an heir… With you, there's a chance. There's so much that I need to tell you, Claire… I'm just not sure how..."

"Is it true that you ran off so you could elope with Philip?"

The question caught the man off guard. "What?!"

"I heard from Mister Phantomhive."

"I… Yes…" the oldest of the pair answered. He was hesitant and his optimism was gone. "I'm sorry..."

"It can't be helped." Claire replied. "I… I still don't understand it and I'm not really sure how to react, but if that's how it is, there's nothing that can be done. I'm glad that you're safe and I want you to be happy. That's all. If this is the best path there is, I think it's best that it's walked on."

"C-Claire, I..." Farroel was relieved. There was a rush of adrenaline and a weight lifted off of his chest. He didn't think she would really approve to begin with, but if this was her response, he felt as though she could at least come around to the idea.

"You do what is best for you and I will do what is best for our kin. If I am the only one who can shoulder the task, then I will." Looking from the device to the menace, she said: "I will do what must be done."

"I know you can do it." her brother replied. "Father will be tough to beat, but if it's you, I know it can be done. And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"After all of this is over… If you have no where else to stay… You can stay with Philip and I, if you want..."

For the first time in a long while, the woman revealed a smile. It was small and somewhat awkward, like she was out of practise, but it was involuntary and genuine. For the first time in a long while, the cold expression she was forced to wear had a crack in the ice. "I would like that." she answered.

"Good!" gleefully replied her brother. "Glory to Pyestock!"

"Glory to Gehenna." she said before turning her attention back to Alois. The demon turned down the volume on the device again before wordlessly putting it back where it belonged.

"I'll do it." the woman told him. "I will surrender Gehenna back to HELLSING. In return, you will allow my people to live peacefully in one of your cities."

"I, Jim Phantomhive The Lion, will allow your people to live peacefully in one of my cities in exchange for the surrender of Gehenna back into HELLSING hands." the demon replied. "Thank you for your cooperation."

He offered a slight bow and had it returned to him by the woman, who mimicked the gesture. She had sold the soul of her people to the devil. He would not devour them, however. Jim was a man, not a monster. He was immensely pleased with this turn of events, and with a few more steps, Gehenna would be released from Philosopher rule.

But, he had a few more surprises in store. Claire didn't leave him with nothing. "I assume you want some information about our operations as well." she said. "Unfortunately, there is a way for our soldiers to escape the city, but it's heavily guarded and father would never allow us to use it. There is an abandoned building on the other side of town. Inside of it is the opening to a tunnel that goes under the wall. After taking the city, we sent the soldiers that we rallied up from here as well as extra forces that we no longer needed in order to keep the area secure to another location."

"I see..." Alois replied, rubbing his chin. "Do you know where?"

"No. Abhartach wanted me to stay in the city in order to keep an eye on father. Only those who were assigned to fall back know for sure."

"Does Abhartach not trust Feargus?"

"No. He doesn't trust him and thinks he's weak." Claire explained. "Weak people aren't meant to lead. If they cannot fight, they are meant to follow, because fighting is the only way to assert oneself as the rightful leader of a people. If God grants you his divine right to rule, you will be protected from harm until you reach the top. At least, that's what Abhartach says. To an extent, father believes it too, but doesn't believe that physical strength is the only way."

"In a way, your father is right on that, only he's wrong about what warrants a war. He also doesn't believe in negotiation, so he's just as forceful, it seems." the menace answered. "But nobles don't rule by strength. It's all blood. What does that have to do with anything?"

"The nobles of Britain have become weak. They no longer fight for anyone or anything. They don't fight at all. Their 'heroic blood' has diluted over the years, so now they do nothing and believe that being born warrants them having power when maintaining power should be a constant struggle. That is part of why they need to be removed and replaced by people who are worthy of having the position."

Alois couldn't argue with that. Well, perhaps he could argue with the bloodline idea. That was part of what he hated about nobles. In his eyes, they are entitled and don't put any effort into earning their place. Why should they get power because they were born while others need to fight just to stay alive? Why should he, who is born with nothing, have to fight to eat and prove himself worthy of existence while those who were born with everything get to look down on him and laugh at him for something beyond his control? Why should he, who is stronger than any of them and all of them put together, be treated as if he is inferior? He, who had endured the darkest and most foul depths of hell as a mere child, was everything that they claimed to be and more.

"What if there is a war? I will have to fight!" some might say. Usually, it's old men whose bones would shatter if one tripped them on the sidewalk. Even if that weren't the case and they were young, Alois knew better. War was something fought by poor kids for the benefit of the wealthy adults. The only time this wasn't necessarily true was in times where there was a draft, and even then, the wealthy automatically had a place as an officer, outside the realm of the battlefield. At least, according to his spouse, that is how it is. Alois doesn't doubt it for a single second, given what he knows about the rich.

Saying one will fight and saying one can fight are both completely different things from actually fighting with one's life on the line. They never had blood pouring down their faces from their noses after confronting the nieghbourhood boys when they found their stash of food that was supposed to last them for a few days. They never had to wrestle away from the baker, kicking, biting, and thrashing, in order to be able to provide for their family. They had never been locked in a cage with other starving boys who were fighting over a few measly scraps like a pack of wild animals, clawing and gnashing their teeth so they would live another day that wasn't worth looking forward to. The weak went hungry or collapsed from the injuries they sustained.

These nobles had absolutely no place being so arrogant. This concept, Alois found himself agreeing with, although he could not say it while the radio was still on. He couldn't risk being branded a traitor himself.

"So, is that why Abhartach wants to overthrow everything?" he asked. "To 'correct' the Peerage?"

"Yes." Claire replied. "And if he is truly destined for greatness, he will achieve it. But, if he isn't, he will fail. Just as will happen with me when I confront my father again. If I cannot win, it wasn't meant to be, but I will fight with everything I have for the sake of the faoladh."

"I will assist you however I can."

"No. My leadership wouldn't be legitimate if you did. I have to do this on my own." There was a moment where she actually looked sad about this, but as her eyes met the demon's, they seemed more determined. "Tomorrow, I will formally challenge him. I'll make sure that he accepts."

"Thank you. I am in your debt." the man answered with a light bow. "You know, we're not so different, actually. Our ideologies hold some similarities, but what sets them apart is our definition of 'strength.' Might isn't just about beating everybody else down. That's the easy way of doing things. A person's true nature is revealed when it's time to make tough decisions. Whether a person's will is strong enough to not break under the strain and whether they are willing to endure more even more pressure in order to do what is right is not giving in to weakness. Both of us could have tried to slaughter each other, but at what cost? Is 'strength' really all about sacrificing others and beating them down just because you're strong and because you can? I don't think so. Despite being a demon, I'd like to think I have a little more humanity than that. The most powerful thing a person can do is not march forward onto a battlefield, it's just moving forward into the next day while trying to make the one after a bit better. Let's move forward and leave all of this behind us in the past where it belongs."

The next stage was set. All that was left to do was wait until the curtains rose. Then, it would all come to a head in Gehenna. That night, after Jim dosed the fire and the two parted ways, he stayed in the city, just in case, while Claire returned to ponder how she was going to do this.

She behaved differently than usual around her fellow faoladh. Of course she would knowing what she knew now. She was reserved. She was serious. She looked as if she were on death row. The others noticed her and asked her what was the matter, but she refused to answer. All she did was listen to them as they converse amongst themselves. As she did, she felt more sure about the outcome.

The story Alois had secretly given them against both the faoladh, including Claire, had spread like wildfire. The soldiers were horrified that anyone could do such a thing, but knowing about their own actions during their occupation, they didn't disbelieve it. All of them had blood on their hands, whether from the initial attack or from the maintaining of fear, none of them were innocent. Their morale was falling as they wondered if what they were doing was worth it. Some of them even remarked at how pleasant the town looked and wondered what it would be like to live there.

Feargus, however, had no such thoughts. All he thought about was how much longer he would have to maintain control of the city until Abhartach successfully dethroned the King and Queen. He was confident in his superior's abilities and was merely waiting, killing time doing whatever he pleased. He stole money, he stole food, he stole everyday items and clothes. He even commissioned a local painter to paint a portrait of him, displaying his newfound wealth and power for all to see. Of course, the painter would not be compensated, but it was either this or death. Needless to say, Feargus was enjoying his time in Gehenna.

"When the palace falls, I want every single person who can build with a damn rounded up." he said to one of his associates. He was still posing, not moving a muscle as his likeness was captured. "I've decided that I will set my estate here. I suppose I could commandeer one when the current nobles are thrown out, but I want my own with my own history. My legacy will be immortalised in brick and stone- Which reminds me, I want those lion statues out. Replace them with wolves. As the new duke, I want my rule to be reflected in my domain."

"Is this what his majesty wants?" his underling questioned. "I mean, has he given you the land?"

"I conquered it, so it's mine. He won't contest that." Feargus retorted. "That is the way the world works, after all. The strong take from the weak and make it their own. Thus, this land is now mine. I will do with it whatever I please."

There was a moment of pause, but then, he sighed. "I'm tired of standing here." he informed. "Let's finish this tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

"Yes, your grace." his associate said with a bow, walking over to the painter and gesturing for them to stand up so they could take them to the room where they were being housed. They had to keep the painter from running away, after all.

From there, Feargus returned to his commandeered quarters, which he was less than thrilled with. The rooms at the Lexington estate were far more grand, but this is what he had to work with for the time being. How terrible. As he disrobed, he debated on whether or not he should call for a woman to join him. As far as he was concerned, although he was "engaged" to Abhartach's daughter, he wasn't yet married, yet he knew that with the moral of his forces dropping and their suspicions of him growing, it was perhaps not a very good idea. Thus, he went to bed alone and waited for the next day to come.

What he didn't know was that it wasn't going to be an ordinary one. When he awoke, he put on his clothes and his boots before donning his cape. He wanted to see what more he could reap from this town, so he set out with his guards accompanying him. Strangely, he did not see his daughter amoung them, but noticed her once they stepped outside of the building.

"Taking the initiative, I see?" he smiled at her. "Have you anything to report or did you simply wish to keep us waiting on you while you were out here all of this time?"

Nothing. Claire said nothing, at first. The man expected to hear a "no sir," but instead, he was blatantly ignored! Steam came out of his nostrils as he breathed out into the cold air around them, but somehow, it made him seem more angry.

"Well?" he questioned. "Are you going to answer me or are you just going to stand there with a stupid look on your face? Has your mind already left you after only a few weeks of occupation? Speak!"

She couldn't. She had resolved to do this, but she couldn't find the words. All she had to do was say that she challenges him, but she couldn't muster the words. Instead, she was silenced by her own fury. How dare he act so high and mighty? This traitor! This deceiver! This weakling.

"That's strange coming from you." she blurted out. "You haven't done any work around here, so what would you know about that? My mind isn't gone. It's just thinking a bit more clearly."

Stiffening his posture, Feargus puffed out his chest with his shoulders back, staring down at his daughter with widened eyes and a furrowed brow. "What was that?" he demanded, but Claire didn't answer right away. "What was that, you said!?"

"I said, you're not fit to lead us!" Claire declared, clenching her fists as she spoke loud enough that the man's bodygaurds could hear her.

"You insolent- You've gone mad..."

"No, I have not! You are just a fool!" she accused. "You don't see the weight of what you have done! What we have done! This place! This place cannot function while cut off from the outside, yet you didn't consider that! You haven't replaced the means through which people acquire food, which is why everyone is starving! It's not just the citizens, either! Our food supplies are running low, too! Why didn't you think about that?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about! There is plenty to eat!"

"For you! You do not sit amoung your own troops! You do not dine with us! Instead, you take everything and lie to us in order to keep us in line! You betrayed all of us!"

There were now whispers among a gathering crowd as the woman continued yelling. Feargus' expression morphed into a snarl as he spoke lowly and coldly. "Hold your tongue, woman. Do not think that because you are my daughter, that you may speak freely."

"That's just part of the problem! You do not allow us to speak. You do not allow us to question. Why is it that we, faoladh, cannot give birth? It is because you told us to never stay in our other form for too long!"

"HELLSING propaganda!"

"NO! Abhartach said it as well!" the woman declared, pointing accusingly at him. Suddenly, everything went quiet. The whispers stopped. Even Feargus did not speak. Instead, his face answered for him, showing the first glimpse of weakness from him that the woman had ever seen.

"Abhartach told me how you lied to us so that you could offer us the 'solution' to a problem. You lied to us about our own bodies so that you could stay in control. You could control who gets to marry and who does not. You get to control who marries who and who may not. You even created an entire class of disposable soldiers just by keeping us ignorant about ourselves. You did that so that you could be the noble who ruled over us. Father, what you did was wrong. What you're making us do now is wrong. Why should we even fight in the first place when there is no problem? Why couldn't we have just lived peacefully here? Because you wanted power. You want to be The Duke of Gehenna, but you are not fit to lead."

The whispering came back with a vengeance as Claire voiced all of the growing suspicions that the soldiers were only able to speak of amoung themselves. Reaching up, Claire fiddled with the pin holding her cape around her shoulders, releasing it and tossing the garment to the side. Placing her hand on the handle of her sword, she boldly declared:

"You do not hold the best interests of our people at heart. That is why I, Claire Whelan, your next of kin, challenge you for the title of leader of the faoladh!"

Moments passed before anything happened, but then, a booming sound erupted from the man's throat as he threw his head back with a large grin. He laughed at her. He laughed at her from the very bottom of his stomach, heartily and haughtily.

"That is too much!" he said, amusement still rife in his voice. "Who knew that you would turn traitor just like your brother? How foolish. Such a waste of my own flesh and blood. Who knew that I could create something so disappointing."

With that, he looked over his shoulder at his bodygaurds. "Make quick work of her, will you? We have a lot to do today." He then turned back to his daughter, but when nothing happened, his smile dropped. "Well?!"

None of them moved. None of the faoladh made any movement to help him. It was not their way. Surely Feargus of all people knew that. Finally, a voice did call out to him form behind him. "We cannot assist you, Your Grace. It is against tradition. A challenge has been issued. You must either fight, or forfeit."

"Tradition? Woman, I am tradition!"

"Then Claire is now our leader, as you concede that you are unfit."

Growling, the man clenched his fists. He was trapped. There was no way out of this.

"Fine." he begrudingly replied, reaching up to unfasten the pin holding onto his own cape. "What are the terms?"

"No guns. No armour. The only weapon allowed is your sword and your body." Claire replied. She was already prepared. Her revolver was not at her side and her breastplate was absent. All she carried was her sword. "We may only best one another with our strength and skill."

Without a word, Feargus began removing his equipment, tossing it to the side and forcing everyone else to step back. The two of them walked sideways, further into the street until the reached the middle, their eyes never straying from one another. Once they reached the middle of the street, their fellow werewolves gathered around to watch as father and daughter drew their weapons on each other and assumed a fighting stance.

They both stood there, watching and waiting for one of them to make the first move. Claire was careful and so was Feargus. In a flash, the woman had closed the gap between them, stirring the powderlike snow at her feet as she did. She stomped her heavy boot down in order to stop herself before swinging downward in a diagonal motion. The force of her swing was impressive and actually caused the man to crouch down a bit from the weight as he blocked it. Sparks flew for a brief moment as Claire's weapon bounced off, but she quickly recovered, taking advantage at how shocked her father was that she attempted a finishing blow upon him right out of the gate. She swung her blade sideways, aiming at his middle, prompting him to leap back out of her striking radius.

Then, he, too, went on the offensive. He swung at her and she would dodge him. Occasionally, she would block, but when she returned the gesture, the results were similar. Their swords moved faster and faster as they tried to think three steps ahead of their opponent. Moving like lightning, Claire struck her father despite his attempt to leap back again. He was just slow enough that she was able to stab about half an inch into his stomach. Needless to say, he was a bit unhappy about that.

Grunting, he placed a hand over his wound as he stepped back. "You bitch..." he growled. Letting out a mighty roar, he lunged again, unleashing a flurry of blows upon his opponent as she did her best to keep up.

"I gave you everything you have!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Your life is mine! Your skills are mine! The clothes you wear! The food you eat! All of it came from me! And this is what you do?! Why did I even bother wasting so much time on a worthless, ungrateful brat?!"

Claire said nothing in return and instead, focused on the fight. Their swords clashed and both of them pushed their full weight against them. Sparks flew as the pair glared at each other, baring their teeth. Feargus, however, was bigger and stronger, forcing Claire's knees to bend under the force. She couldn't push him off, so she simply moved a little to the side, forcing his blade to fall and bury itself into the ground. Unleashing her battlecry, she re-positioned her feet so that she could plunge her weapon into the man's neck. She had him! It was the perfect opening!

It was.

In a flash, Claire saw the glint of a blade before her vision on her left side turned red. Soon, it faded to black. Instinctively, she let go of her sword with one hand in order to reach up and somehow soothe herself. It was warm and wet as her fingers accidentally brushed against something hard and metallic that was stuck to her face. While she was screaming from the pain, she received further injury when her father punched her in the kidney, forcing her to her knees.

"Stupid woman. First you challenge me and then you expect me to play fair. I will forgive you, however, in exchange for your eye. That's a blessed blade. Don't expect it to come back."

Claire suddenly realised that it was a knife stuck in her eyesocket, having gashed her cheek, stuck itself inside of her eye, and stopped when it hit the top or the socket. Feargus cheated and didn't swing hard enough to cut through bone. Tears streamed down her face on her right side from the pain, but she had no such luck on the other.

"I thought I raised you better than this..." the man continued, shaking his head. "You? Lead the faoladh? Well, even if you were right about all of that, what man will have you now?"

Whispering erupted from the crowd surrounding them. Some overtly voiced their disapproval of his actions, close enough for him to hear them. It made his expression turn sour again as he turned his head to face them.

"What the hell are you complaining about?!" he demanded. "You can't expect the one defending to play fair! It's my right! Someone has to keep all of you safe from a weak leader with no brains or any real resolve!"

With that, he felt something push against his chest rather abruptly. At first, he thought he was punched and turned his head to see what happened, only to find his daughter's sword plunged into his chest, all the way to the hilt. It felt warm, but then, as time passed, he began to feel cold. He fell to his knees, only to find himself staring up at his daughter, who looked down on him with contempt.

"Claire..?" he uttered weakly. His surprise was completely evident in what came out, only to be followed by a wet cough as he spattered the woman's boots with blood. "Why..? I'm your father… How could you… How could you do this..?"

"I have to protect the faoladh from a weak leader with no brains or any real resolve." she answered back. "You've been killing us for a long time. If one more death is the first step in undoing all of it, so be it..."

Pushing him to the side with her sword, she pulled it out of him, causing him to fall to the ground. She flicked her wrist, knocking off the access blood turning the snow beneath her crimson. Then, with her one eye, she looked out at her fellow faoladh- knife still embedded in her skull- and raised her weapon high over her head.

"I, Claire Whelan of the Whelan Clan, now assume leadership of the faoladh and this mission!" she boomed, her declaration moving through the air like thunder as he rained down on her compatriots. "My first order is to surrender the city of Gehenna back to the people who reside within it, to The Lion, and to HELLSING!"

Her fellow werewolves were shocked, but said nothing. Some even finched when she brought her weapon down and pointed it at them for emphasis. "If any of you object to this and think you have what it takes to lead, step forth, remove your armour, and draw your sword!"

The whole street was silent. No one dared argue against her. It was a good thing, too, as The Lion watched from the rooftops, making sure everything went according to plan. With no objections, Claire let her weapon fall to her side.

"We faoladh have seen our numbers go fewer and fewer each day." she said. "Why wipe ourselves out with war? Why can't we live alongside the people of Gehenna? Why can't we live alongside the people of Pyestock? Why can't we live as free women and free men in peace and prosperity? Today is the first step toward making that happen. Today, we will join hands with The Lion and rebuild- not only ourselves, but Gehenna. We owe it to them for the catastrophe we have caused here. We will go back to being the peaceful protectors of the weak as we were once legendary for. We will not be agents of destruction. Starting today, the only direction we will move is forward! Glory to Gehenna!"

Raising her sword again, she invited those before her to join her. "Glory to Gehenna!" voices cried out. With that, Alois was confident that he had won.

Standing up from his crouched position, he stretched his arms before resting his hands on his hips with a smile. It soon fell as his position allowed him to have a good look at the city, however, as he realised that he would need to rebuild it. It was fine, he supposed. His personal bank account would take a hit, as he didn't want to wait on HELLSING to approve a budget, but he was fine with that. His husband could pay for dinner a few times until he built it back up again. That was just the kind of man he was.

He was the man who reclaimed Gehenna without firing a single bullet. That was the difference between himself and the Philosophers. While he agreed that most nobles were irredeemably worthless, he didn't believe in punishing innocent people for their indiscretions. The ends wouldn't justify the means. Thus, it was time for HELLSING to move in and peacefully accept Claire's surrender. The battle was won, but in the shadows, the Philosophers were not yet finished.


A/N: Don't worry, we're not done breaking stuff. I'm also not going to wait too terribly wrong, so you will get to see the demons fight relatively soon.

I was worried that Claire defeating Feargus might seem a bit anticlimactic, since Alois is a main character and a main character is supposed to defeat the villain, yes? As I was working the storyline, though, I realised that it wouldn't work! It would just send the bullets flying and civilians would die! Jim doesn't want that either, so this is how it turned out.

I think this says something very interesting about his character. Like, we get that he punches really hard and he fights the bad guys real good and he never gives up, but he also thinks about things a lot more thoroughly. What is important to him in this arc, is not punching things really hard and showing the baddies who's boss, it's making sure everybody makes it out okay. Gehenna is something that he's honestly and truly proud of, and he also has a pretty big heart, y'know? These are his people and it's his job to take good care of them! He takes that VERY seriously.

But it also shows that he knows when to punch and when to talk. A lot of people forget that talking is a BIG deal. You can't always win by fighting. Sometimes, you can avoid confrontation altogether by negotiation, and really, that's the ideal scenario, most of the time! So Jim knows when to pull back and he knows when to talk. He doesn't see either of those things as "Weak" like a lot of people weirdly do. Both are actual tactics, and Jim is the kind of person who uses ALL of his tools in serious situations. He keeps options open. Anybody who says otherwise can shut the fuck up, because he doesn't care. His objective was complete to the best outcome and nobody can take that away from him.

This guy is too much...

Also, pay attention to the similarities and differences between him and Abhartach. I just think it's really interesting how that turned out. They have one similar idea that they agree on, but they just take it in completely opposite directions. I think I actually once said on tumblr that in the "dark" timeline, Jim could actually feasibly take over throne. That's fascinating... I didn't do all of that on purpose, but I want to play around with that a bit more.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!