The sounds of war echoed across London from multiple points. Buckingham Palace had it's battle and HELLSING Headquarters had it's own. The thunder of soldier's boots hitting the ground as they advanced, the roar of their battlecries, and the sound of their guns firing filled the air, drowning out their cries of pain, the sounds of their life being snuffed out, and their many, many, tears. It was enough to overwhelm the senses to the point of hearing nothing but silence in the chaos.

There was one battle, however, that was quiet. At least, the beginnings of it were. Outside of a warehouse somewhere along the river Thames stood a lone man in the snow, staring at the door of the building. He was cold. Snow collected on his bare shoulders and on top of the bluenette locks on his head. His breath came out as thick steam and his friend was long gone, having taken back what was stolen from the Phantomhive family and begun the journey to return it to its rightful place. That just left Ciel and that just left Johnathan.

The doors burst open and Johnathan came stumbling out, coughing, before falling to his knees. Johnathan expelled any of the rosemary gas that he accidentally inhaled before he held his breath and shook his head. Rapidly. He needed to regain his senses and assess the situation.

Sniffing, he looked down at his hands in the snow. They were completely pink with black fingernails on the ends and stung right down to the bone. Hissing, he removed them, and held them close against his chest before looking up. Upon seeing the Phantomhive, his brow furrowed and he forced himself to his feet. Shaking out his hands, he placed them on the handles of his pistols, Romulus and Remus as they sat in the holsters on his hips. Without words, Ciel returned the gesture, holding out his hand and summoning his own weapon from black flames. He was without his gun, so he would have to settle for bringing a sword to a gunfight.

The two stood there in silence with only the sound of wind passing between them being heard. Snow continued to gently fall down toward the earth as the two sides sized each other up. Johnathan looked to the stoic Phantomhive and Ciel looked to the heated Beattie. There wasn't an ounce of fear on the faces of either one. Even Ciel, who had been dreading this encounter, met it with dignity, holding his head high and refusing to break eye contact. All thoughts of "what if" were drowned out by the reality of the situation. The reality was that this was just another day at work. Ciel decided as soon as he saw the other demon that he would not run away. His pride wouldn't allow it. He wasn't a coward who ran away when things got difficult and he wasn't convinced that he was going to start right then.

On the other hand, Johnathan came into this quite eagerly, convinced that this was a moment of glory. His bravado was intense as he was determined not to lose to the Watchdog. He would crush him and show him just who the bigger man was. With that, he moved forward.

With a rage-filled roar, he lunged at the bluenette, drawing his weapons. He fired from his bayonet-tipped pistols, prompting the other demon to block them with his sword. Once the gap between them was closed, Johnathan swung his blades, only to have them blocked by the other man. He tried again and again with similar results, only to wind up aiming at Ciel's face and pulling the trigger. Expertly, Ciel managed to duck and he thrust his blade upwards from below. Johnathan tilted his head and backed away with wide-eyes and grit teeth as he watch the weapon slice vertically through his cheek.

He swung he arm, aiming for the bluenette's head. Ciel was able to move away, but the bayonet on the end of Johanthan's pistol nicked him, leaving a horizontal gash on his own face on the same side that Johnathan had his. They separated, jumping back. Their eyes never left the other, both as predators watching their prey and as prey watching the moves of their predator. Ciel stared at Johnathan with both of his eyes exposed and Johnathan stared back at him. The bluenette shifted his feet, allowing for the sound of crunching snow to speak for him. Then, they both advanced forward and clashed again.

"Just die already!" Johnathan growled, stabbing at his foe. "Hurry up and die!"

"It's rather bold of you to assume that you are entitled to give me orders."

"Shut up!"

"You've gone through all of this trouble and you don't want to talk? I find that hard to believe!"

Seeing a moment of oppurtunity, Ciel seized it and slabbed Johnathan's stomach. "Urk!" the younger demon grunted, doubling over slightly. From there, he gripped one of his pistols tighter and brought it up to stab his foe in the side, causing the bluenette to yelp. He then pulled the trigger.

Ciel wanted to separate them, but instead, he retracted his blade, weaving it back into his garb. His oppnent took this as a chance to swing his other hand, but the bluenette blocked it with one hand and reached for the pistol currently embedded into his side with the other. Clumsily, the Phantomhive fiddled with Johnathan's hand, trying to remove his grip from it, but he held fast, instead causing Ciel to reevaluate his approach. He fumbled to find the button on the handle but once he pushed it, he forced himself back again, sliding off of the blade in the process and causing the magazine of the pistol to fall out onto the ground. Quickly, he bent down and grabbed it before running and diving behind Johnathan's car. Breathing heavily, he took the bullets out of the magazine so that his foe couldn't use them easily.

Blinking, Johnathan looked at his gun. Shaking his head, he threw the weapon away. Ciel heard the weapon clatter to the ground and quieted his breathing for a moment. Slowly, he leaned down, placing his palms against the ground and laying on his stomach so that he could see underneath the car and to the other side. There! The pistol was on the ground! Even though Ciel had taken the magazine out of the weapon, he knew that the gun was an automatic and that meant that there was a strong possibility that there was a bullet still in the chamber! If he needed to, he knew that it was an option. The one thing he couldn't see, however, was Johnathan's feet.

"Given up already?" Ciel heard from behind him. Quickly, he crawled underneath the car before Johnathan shot the ground where he was laying. "Come on! Give me a good fight! It's not my fault you decided to take a sword to a gunfight!"

"Actually, it is, since you took my gun!" the bluenette reminded. Black flame appeared from his hands, prompting Johanathan to walk around the car to investigate. Before Mister Beattie could lift the vehicle to investigate, however, Ciel's blade was thrust out from underneath and slashed his leg.

"Son of a whore!" Johnathan shouted, clutching at his wound while the Watchdog rolled out from under the car and appeared on the other side. Forcing himself to his feet, Ciel climbed over the top of it and stood on it's roof before lunging at the other man, swinging his weapon and forcing the other man to block. "That was a weak shot!"

"Don't be childish. This is life or death, not a game of tag." the Phantomhive stated. "Why are you only concerned with things being fair when they don't go your way?"

"I'm not! I've paid my dues! I deserve a chance to fight!"

"You have it, so be serious."

"Why don't you? Stop leaping around and crawling under things! Don't you have any pride?" questioned Mister Beattie. "This is a duel between men! A gentleman's quarrel!"

"That explains it. The last one of those I had with somebody, they actually knew how to fight. They fought like no one I've ever seen. They very nearly defeated me. I barely escaped. But you? You're no such person. You lack the experience with violence."

"Oh I have experience with violence..."

"Really? On the receiving end of it? Or as the one to enact it?"

"Both. I've honed myself in order to face you. I've fought. I've failed. I've been left broken and bleeding. Yet, I still got up, just like you did."

"No..." Ciel shook his head. "I was ten years old and didn't have a choice or a means to defend myself. You're a grown man who sought harm in an effort to improve. Tell me, was there ever a moment where you weren't in control? Was there ever a moment where it seemed like you could have died? No… I don't believe that for one second. We aren't comparable, you and I… You're a pale imitation that has glorified my suffering. Why are you so obsessed with me? It can't be because of Heinrich or your father alone. You've hardly mentioned them. Only me."

Johnathan stood silent for a few moments, staring ahead at the bluenette. Then, he shook his head and begun to chuckle. "Oh, Ciel… I don't know what you're talking about?" he said.

"Your revenge, Johnathan. Is this revenge?"

"Of course it is!" the black-haired demon shouted. "Do you really think that I could ever forgive you for-" Johnathan cut himself off and blinked. The fury on his face slowly melted and was replaced with confusion.

"For..." he mumbled. "I can't forgive you for..."

"Heinrich." Ciel answered. "And your father."

"My-?" Johnathan looked perplexed. Watching him, his opponent began to understand.

Demons were empty creatures. Their curse was so that they lose themselves. Who they are, who they were, the things that brought them joy, the people they loved and who loved them… all of it. It disappeared, leaving a vacancy inside of them that they were doomed to try and fill with the essence of another. Johnathan was not as aware of himself as both parties had initially thought. Johnathan was a monster. He was a monster from the very start. Even before this, his fate was sealed when he was a human being. He was a monster back then and he was a monster during this fight, too.

"Johnathan..." the Phantomhive began. "Why are you so fixated on me?"

That seemed to snap the other demon to a little bit more awareness. "Johnathan..." he echoed before coming to his senses. "No! You! It was you! You were there! You were always there!"

"No. I wasn't. I was convenient. You need something to destroy. You need something to attach yourself to. I was there. It doesn't seem any more complicated than that. It's pitiful. Johnathan… You're pitiful."

A snarl formed on Johnathan's face as he gripped his gun tighter. "I am greater than you can even imagine." he growled to the man, his voice rough and low. "I am the beast who will tear you limb from limb. I am the monster to surpass the legendary Ciel Phantomhive- the Queen's Guard Dog, the Watchdog, the Evil Earl… I will become the monster to end all monsters…"

"...The greatest monster who ever lived?" the other finished for him. "Will you become adversary himself?"

"I am your adversary." Johnathan replied. "I am your undoing."

"Doubt it. I have some experiences with fighting dragons and you're just an infant."

With his anger reaching its peak, the nemesis of Phantomhive fired his weapon, prompting the other man to block the bullets by swinging his sword. Sparks flew from the blade before falling and dying in the snow at the man's feet. Flakes of metal joined flakes of frozen water as they wafted back down toward the earth, beaten by the tinkling of bisected bullets. Johnathan emptied the entire clip on the bluenette. With his last shot, he aimed right at the sword with his sights trained on a notch that was missing from the weapon. With his aim true, he struck the weak spot just as Ciel took a swing, causing the sword to shatter.

Still gripping the handle, Ciel's eyes went wide. His sword- the sword that he had inherited from Elizabeth, was finished. In his hand he still held onto the handle, clinging to it as he saw the shards of the blade join the rubble in the snow. His eyes narrowed and he looked up at Johnathan, only to be met with a smug smile. Johnathan smiled, but now it was Ciel's turn to be enraged.

Laughing at the man's misfortune, the monster tossed his own expended weapon to the side. The Phantomhive, albeit with profound reluctance, did the same. "Just you and me." the beast said. "Like gentlemen. With our fists."

"Please, there's nothing 'gentlemanly' about it. Dress it up however nicely you want to, but it's still just a pair of brutes squabbling over nothing."

"Have you any passion at all?"

"Plenty; just better places."

Johnathan raised his fists, prompting Ciel to do the same. He had anger in his eyes, yet it was also apparent that passion ran through his veins. It was the hot-blooded passion of the battlefield. It was the drive to fight. His red eyes were the only colour that stood out to Ciel, and Ciel's blue to Johnathan. It was the only colour that could be seen in their monochrome world. Grey skies, white ground, pale skin and black clothes. Red and blue. Sanguine and phlegmatic- passion and apathy.

The red hot fire of Johnathan advanced first, swinging at the bluenette with intensity while the other waited for him to get in close. Then, Ciel lowered his center of gravity in a strong stance. It was a punch to the face, but the Phantomhive swiped it out of the way, forcing Johnathan to fall forward toward to the side of the man, right onto Ciel's own fist. The bluenette hit him. Hard. Right in the nose, sending him reeling. Blood poured from his face as he quickly recovered. As he was at Ciel's side, he struck him square in the wound he had created earlier. It was with a blessed blade and a blessed bullet, so it had not yet healed. The hit knocked the wind out of the bluenette and forced him to temporarily retreat.

When he came back at the brute, he switched things up. He cocked back his right hand, clearly aiming for Johnathan's head, but as he struck him and forced him to put up his hands, he ducked downwards, moving to grapple his leg instead. Realising what was happening, his foe brought his elbow down on Ciel's neck while bringing his leg upwards. Ciel missed his mark and fell to the ground, leaving himself open for Johnathan to stomp his foot on.

"You like that?!" the black-haired demon taunted as he repeatedly brought his boot down on top of the Phantomhive's head. "It's a good look for you! You belong in the dirt!"

He cackled, absolutely delighted by the display until Ciel pushed against the ground and raised his head. Although Johnathan brought his boot down on top of it one last time, the Phantomhive didn't submit and got up, raising his opponent's leg in the process. He grabbed it, forcing the other demon to hop around on one foot before throwing him across the yard. When Johnathan landed, he ran to meet him, stopping just short of his body before swinging his foot backwards to strike him in the stomach. Ciel hit him right where he had stabbed him, forcing a yelp from the monster. Cocking back his arm, Ciel crouched down to punch him in the face again. And again. And again. It was only when Johnathan forced himself to his hands and knees and clocked the Phantomhive upside the head that Ciel stopped and reeled back.

Both of them forced themselves to their feet and ignored the red streams that trickled down their faces. Without his gaze leaving Johnathan's Ciel spit the crimson contents of his mouth into the snow and made a futile attempt at wiping off his face with his hand. He half expected his adversary to do the same, but instead, Johnathan let out a roar.

"PHAN-TOM-HIVE!" The word thundered from his throat, spraying blood into the air and onto the snow in the process. He advanced again, barreling toward the bluenette like a train with the brakes completely severed. Direct, with a clear path, yet conversely, completely out of control. His sharpened teeth were bared. His eyes were wide and aflame. Yet, the object of his hatred said nothing in return and simply got ready for him to come at him; an immovable object standing against an unstoppable force.

Johnathan prepared to punch his foe, stopping just short of him, and Ciel got ready to use his momentum against him and swipe his fist away, but before he could, Johnathan was behind him. The other demon had run past him instead of attacking right then, only to grab Ciel from behind. He held him from under his arms and had his hands behind the bluenette's head so that he couldn't fight back. Each time Ciel tried to thrash around to force his opponent off of him, Johnathan pushed down against his neck, forcing it to pop painfully.

"I'll snap your fucking neck!" Johnathan told him. "I'll break your fucking neck and put you back in the fucking tank!"

He was a bit disappointed that the other demon did not reply, but Ciel had other things on his mind than being witty. He was struggling to stay on his feet and his heart was beating in his ears to the point where it was difficult to hear much else. His vision was tunneled and his breathing was harsh and heavy as he struggled against his captor. Then, a thought occurred to him.

He struggled again- harder, this time, only for a loud "pop" to be heard by both demons. Johnathan's eyes went wide as he wrestled with the possibility that Ciel might have saved him the trouble of breaking his neck, only to find the Phantomhive wriggling free of him, giving him a swift roundhouse to the side to create distance before hobbling off a little ways. When Johnathan recovered, he realised what happened. Ciel's arm was dangling limply, only connected to his body with muscle and skin. Johnathan could see the pain on the man's face as he gripped the appendage with his good hand and forced the bone back into the socket in his shoulder with a grunt.

"What the fuck?" questioned Mister Beattie. "Did you just fucking dislocate your arm?"

"You wanted me to be serious." answered the Watchdog. "I'm not going to allow myself to be killed by the likes of you."

This time, it was Ciel's turn to advance, although he was a bit careful with his arm for the first few swings. He brought his knuckles down hard against Johnathan's jaw, only to be uppercut by the beast and punched in the stomach. He reached for his foe, grasping at anything he could. He gripped onto a fistful of black hair with one hand and broke Johnathan's nose with the other, only to be struck in the side again and have the wind knocked out of him. Once he let go, he staggered, bent over as he tried to recover.

With that, Johnathan quickly made his way behind his foe and clasped his hands together, forming a loop and putting it over the Watchdog's head. Pulling his hands closer and digging his elbows into Ciel's back, he forced the Phantomhive upright and pressed the base of his thumb into Ciel's throat, strangling him. Ciel's first instinct was to reach up and try to pry him off, but Johnathan's grip was firm and he was determined not the let his nemesis get away.

"Give up!" growled Johnathan. "You're not getting away no matter what you do! You can't dislocate your arm, this time! You'll have to snap your neck!"

Ciel could hear the monster's heavy breathing and tired chuckling in his ear as he thrashed about, trying to throw Johnathan off of him. He tried clawing at the other demon's hands, but that only prompted him to tighten his grip. "Bastard..." the Phantomhive swore, his voice strained. He tried elbowing the brute in the ribs, but Johnathan moved just enough for it to only lightly tap him. The Watchdog needed to change his approach. He needed to think further than punching and kicking. He needed to think further than the traditional approach. Frantically, he scanned his surroundings in order to find something for him to use. He looked to the car, a white Saab, but that didn't help him any. There was the warehouse, there was snow, there was concrete, but there was one more thing. Johnathan's pistol with the magazine missing. The promise of a bullet still in the chamber was tempting, but he needed to somehow get to it. Then, realisation flickered behind his eyes as he knew exactly what to do.

He reached behind him, putting his hand between Johnathan's legs and he squeezed- hard.

"Urk-!" The pained sound escaped from Johnathan's throat like a weak bark. He held fast, but the longer he did, the harsher his nemesis' grip became. Trying to squirm away only made it worse!

With no other option, he let go, and tried to wrestle Ciel off of him, but Ciel let go of his own volition and turned around, grabbing Johnathan instead by the hair and throwing him. Harshly, he landed in the snow. He tried to get up with a groan, holding himself as he forced himself to his knees when he heard his enemy stirring behind him. Quickly, Johnathan looked over his shoulder to see what the Watchdog was up to, only to see the man standing there with Johnathan's own pistol aimed right at him.

"It's useless." Johnathan said with a smirk daring to further besmirch his face. "There's nothing there."

Instead of answering him, Ciel pulled the trigger. Instead of the sound of a faint click, the booming sound of a gunshot rang out and a bullet pierced Johnathan's forehead. Eyes open, glazed, and vacant, his mouth open, and without the time to be shocked by his enemy's actions, the demon fell in a to the ground in a crumpled heap. His anger, his hatred, his lust for violence, desire to sadistically inflict pain, and ultimately, his passion was completely snuffed out, leaving Ciel alone.

The Watchdog panted as the fight that he fought reluctantly was finally over. There was no fury, there was no flame- only ash. Only Ciel. Snowflakes continued to fall from the dark black sky, landing in his hair and on his shoulders, chilling him. He shuddered. There was no relief gained from killing Johnathan. No satisfaction. It was simply something that had to be done. The relief he felt was from the knowledge that he wouldn't be attacking his household again. No bones would be defiled by the beast again. Truly, it was a waste, really. It was a waste of time. It was a waste of resources. It was a waste of effort. An inconvenience. The Watchdog carried no desire for revenge in his heart, nor did he desire to punish his opponent. It was a matter of principle- of obligation. When someone threatens him or his family, it is his duty as head of his household to dispatch it. There was nothing more to it. There was no fury in his heart. There was little anger. Ciel was apathetic to Johnathan's desire for conflict and he approached the fight similarly. Fire to ash.

There was more, though. As the Watchdog regained his composure, his lack of passion sprouted into urgency as he realised that it was far past time for him to move on to his next task. He had to get to the palace immediately.

He whipped his head around, desperately searching for something he could use. The Saab? No. He didn't know how to hotwire a car, nor did he know how to drive one. A taxi? No, what kind of taxi would stop for a scarred, shirtless man with dried blood all over him? Not any driven by anyone with even the slightest ounce of sanity, for certain. Without much else to do, he wandered around the yard aimlessly, trying to work out his next course of action.

It was amazing, what he could do with no thought, as he tossed the pistol in his hand to the side and managed to pick up the one with the magazine still in it. It was empty, but there were bullets on the ground next to the car for him to load it with. As for his clothes? Well… a partial transformation would do the trick. The black fire gradually engulfed his upper body as he picked up the bullets before dying down again. Once they were gone, they revealled the coat of his demonic garb. It was strange wearing it without horns or a tail, but he would have to make do. Similarly, it felt disgusting weaving Johnathan's weapon into the fabric, but it was the only weapon he had at his disposal right then.

"Okay..." he sighed. There was no one there for him to talk to, but it somehow made him feel better to voice the fact that he had the beginnings of a plan going on. His eyes continued to scan his surroundings, only for them to land on the handle of his sword haphazardly discarded on the ground. Groaning, he slowly bent down and picked it up, weaving it into the fabric, too. It felt wrong to just leave it there.

With all of the resources he felt that he could scrounge up, he nodded to himself before working on the next phase of his brilliant plan: find a way to get to the next battlefield. He could try calling for transport, but it might be too slow. If he could get them to send him a helicopter, then maybe he could make it, but it was unlikely, given how it was his own fault that he wasn't there. His next best option was to start walking. In fact, that was the only option he had, so that's what he did. He started walking. Then, he started running.

His cheeks were flushed from exertion as he began to feel a lot more lively. Apathy had worked with Johnathan, but now he needed a bit more enthusiasm. He began to radiate heat as he began to get fired up again, knowing what was waiting for him once he arrived. From ash came new beginnings. The snow would melt and things would grow anew. Fire became ash and cold ash became warmth. Ciel's heart quickened with the anticipation of what was to come. The fire inside of him flickered, but it was not an out of control flame. It was contained. It was healthy. It was human. It propelled him forward and compelled him to face the next challenge with everything he had.


A/N: I worked on this as school and I'm still not quite happy with it. I did get an excuse to break out some medeival thematic devices, though, so there's that. Did it work? I dunno. Hopefully, it spiced things up a tad.

Uh... I had a lot to say, earlier, but I totally forgot what it was... Hopefully, you guys will point out some of the stuff I wanted to talk about and jog my memory...

I'm really, really, tired, you guys...

It was something about violence and how passion can be both constructive and destructive. Also by "passion," both love and hate can fit under that umbrella because both involve intense fixations on another person. The opposite is apathy. Then there was other stuff... like psychomachia... and... humorism... pay attention to colours and elements... blah blah blah...

Honestly, though, I'm more interested in hearing what you all have to say about it. It's more fun for me that way, because sometimes, y'all pick up on shit that I don't.

Also! I dunno if this is relevant to any of your interests, but for this chapter, I was listening to the soundtrack to Oldboy, especially the track called "The Old Boy." Have I seen that movie? No. It just has neat music.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!