A/N: Hello. I welcome all new and returning readers.

Thank you all for your patience. Please enjoy!

"Alright, that's all for today." Anderson concluded as the evening bells rang out. "Go wash up for dinner."

Out of sync "Yes, Father"s swept across the classroom along with the chorus of shuffling papers and the squeak of chair legs against wood.

Now that lessons were done for the day, all that was left was to cook dinner, clean up, get the children to bed, and spend the rest of the night writing tomorrow's homily.

And grading the stack of papers he'd left growing on his desk.

Muttering under his breath, Anderson turned to wipe the chalkboard with one hand while massaging his stiff neck with the other.

It was still odd to him, being a teacher and caretaker while also being a child himself. But this was the path the Lord had laid out for him and as a dutiful servant he must–.

"Father Anderson," Tanya suddenly piped up from behind him, and when he turned to address her, he found the rest of the class huddled behind her. "We want to ask you something."

"Yes?" He lowered the eraser and gave them his full attention. "Do you have a question about today's lesson?"

"No," Her braids swung as she shook her head. "It is about the corpse hidden in the orphanage. Is it true or not?"

The eraser snapped clean in half, one end flying out the window and the other ricocheting off a desk and into the trash.

"...Who on Earth told you that?"

Twelve fingers pointed to Katia who immediately covered her sobbing face.

Three months had passed since he found Olivia, and he had been constantly looking over his shoulder since.

Father Renaldo suspected something–Anderson knew from his veiled questions and securitizing gaze. He had even taken to randomly visiting the orphanage, as if hoping to catch Anderson off-guard.

And, to add to the fire, the nuns–who had mostly kept to themselves–had been requesting to work alongside him, but Anderson quickly rejected their offers in the event they were working for Renaldo.

However, now in hindsight, Anderson should've focused on evading detection from those in his care.

Oddly enough, now that the cat was out of the bag, Anderson felt a sense of relief and he quickly knelt before Katia and dried her tears.

'No wonder she's been so withdrawn lately.'

"Father Anderson?" Tanya pressed once more. "Is it true?"

A thousand scenarios flashed through his mind, ranging from excommunication to eternal damnation, before silently standing tall and peering out into the hallway.

"Do not make a sound." Anderson shut off the lights and gestured towards the children. "Quickly now. Follow me."

In a single row, the children tiptoed behind Anderson, suppressing their questions as he doused the hallway lanterns.

All the while, Anderson's heart pounded in his throat and sweat pooled at his brow with every boom of the cathedral's bells.

Once they reached the portrait, Anderson took a moment to recite a prayer while the children's eyes scalded his back.

'Gracious Father, hear your servant's plea,' Anderson removed the portrait, the chained door rousing a gasp from the older children. 'Please may all this be part of your plan.'

The moment the chains fell to the floor and the door was opened, the children gathered around the doorframe and peered within.

"A tomb!"

"Katia was right! There is a body here!"

"I knew this hallway was creepy!"

"Why is there a body here, Father?!"

Their questions swarmed around Anderson, relentlessly needling his skin until Markel, the second eldest, spoke up.

"Who is Olivia, Father?"

The stinging ceased, and the children directed their gazes back on Anderson.

"...I told you all before." He stepped into the tomb, tracing his finger over the engraving and motioning for the children to join him. "The reason this orphanage exists."

For the next hour, Anderson recounted the events a winter prior–the chapel massacre, Olivia's name written in blood, his journey to London, the true identity of the monster, Hellsing's betrayal, Olivia's death, and of the abomination that brought the child Olivia to Hellsing in the first place.

"Why is she here though, Father Anderson?" Belle whispered, clinging to Robin's side as she hesitantly glanced at Olivia's body. "If this lady died in London, why is she here now?"

"Because," Anderson studied his hands before facing the children gathered around him. "Because this is Our Lord's will. I do not know of His plan for Olivia Emese Song, but I know it is my duty to guard her body. Whether she rises like Lazarus or remains sealed here, only our Lord knows."

"But she is a heathen, Father. Why would God protect her? Why do you protect her?"

"The sacrifice." Anderson uttered, silencing the children once more. "She sacrificed herself….to save me. And her final request before her life was taken was…." Memories of Walter tossing her body into the river like trash flashed through his mind, along with Arthur's orders for her execution and that monster who dared to weep when it was his fault to begin with. Rage boiled in his chest, and his hatred towards Hellsing and vow to keep Olivia hidden was reinforced tenfold.

"Father?"

"Romans 8:28: 'And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.' Who are we to question the Lord? All we must do as his flock is follow him." Anderson stood up straight, the glare catching his glasses and shielding his eyes from sight. "Do you understand, children?"

It was frightening, seeing the usually mild-mannered priest so stern and imposing. Some of the children even huddled close out of fear.

"D-Does," Max cleared his throat, his voice cracking like a whistle. "Does anyone else know, Father?"

"...No," Anderson removed his glasses, his gaze weary now. "We are the only ones who know. And," He took a deep breath before putting his glasses back on. "We are the only ones who can know. So, please, I ask you all to never speak of tonight's events. Not to each other, not to me, and especially not to anyone from the Vatican. Even when I'm away, you will speak not a word." Anderson then crouched down and gathered the children close. "I will never let anything happen to you all. So, please, forget what you saw tonight."

But the children's hearts were still ill at ease and questions still danced on their tongues.

Yet, at Anderson's pleading gaze, what else could they do but agree.

"We promise, Father."

Later that night, long after the midnight bells had rung, the children snuck out and congregated in Tanya's room. As the eldest, she was the only one with a room of her own but most importantly, it was the furthest from Anderson's quarters–perfect for late night whispers.

"What should we do?"

"What do you mean 'what should we do'? We promised Father Anderson to keep quiet."

"But shouldn't the Vatican know about this? Father Anderson said this is God's will so isn't it logical to inform His Holiness?"

"Is that why Father Renaldo keeps stopping by? Do you think he suspects Father Anderson?"

"What if this secret comes out and the orphanage is shut down?"

"Will we go back to the streets?"

"I don't want to go back! There are bad people out there!"

"Maybe we should go see Father Renaldo and explain."

"Yeah, maybe he can—."

"No! We can't!" The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes falling on little Katia who quickly lowered her head and fiddled with her nightgown. "We promised Father Anderson….and he saved us all. He is good, he cares about us, so I….we must trust him." She wiped her nose on her sleeve and raised her head. "Promise?" She held out her pinky.

The others looked at each other, uncertainty still clouding their eyes.

Finally, Pascal stepped forward and locked pinkies with Katia's.

"Promise."

Then, one by one, the children joined in until all thirteen of them were huddled in the room's center, smiles now painting their faces.

"Katia is right." Tanya nodded. "If Father Anderson says this is God's plan, then we need to simply obey? Got it?"

"Got it!"

"Good," Tanya then stood up and crossed her arms. "Now get out of my room."

On the other side of the orphanage, Anderson laid awake with his arms nestled behind his head.

Despite his short term relief, his mind and heart were now a whirlwind of anxieties.

Could he really trust the children to stay silent?

Was he sullying their souls by swearing them to secrecy?

Was he mistaken all along and all this was just a coincidence?

What if–?

No! Stop!

"Matthew 17:20, Because you have so little faith, Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there', and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Anderson clasped his hands together and pressed them against his eyes, hard enough for spots to color the darkness. "Amen."

The first few days were difficult–Anderson kept anticipating Renaldo kicking down his door or finding the children gathered around the painting–but nothing happened.

The children never brought up Olivia and acted the same as before, racing across the orphanage grounds and bickering over the kitchen table. Even Katia was back to her usual self, though she no longer wandered the halls at night.

Renaldo continued his surprise visits but gave no further indication he knew the truth.

Even after Anderson went on a mission to Barcelona–leaving Tanya and Markel to maintain order–he returned to everything same as it always was.

In spite of these blessings though, Anderson knew he would never fully relax and would remain on guard for possibly the rest of his life.

Or until the Lord spoke to him again.

Whichever came first.

And so Anderson straightened his shoulders and continued his work, teaching the children, punishing heathens, and praying over Olivia's body.

Gradually, the seasons changed and the children grew up before his eyes. Soon they expressed an interest in learning combat so that they may one day stand beside him on the battlefield.

So, in addition to his usual lessons, Anderson began to incorporate swordsmanship and marksmanship into their curriculum. And, as he observed the children practice with wooden swords and firing blanks at targets, he was suddenly greeted with a vision of Olivia standing beside him. She would praise the children and gently point out areas where they could improve.

'That's right, she had been a soldier since she was a child.'

If things had been different, would Olivia have found her way to Italy? Would she have been taken in by the church and given proper care? Would she have been trained under Iscariot and if so would she have been his teacher?

Would she have smiled at him and praised him for-?

Anderson dashed the vision away as quickly as it came and refocused on the children.

'There is no use in pondering on what-ifs,' Anderson clapped his hands together and directed the children inside for lunch. 'All I must focus on is nurturing His flock and serving my penance.'

Despite their silence, the children never forgot what they witnessed and learned in Olivia's tomb—in fact their curiosity only grew.

Since discussing it aloud was forbidden, the children eventually consulted the Vatican archives with the excuse of 'it is for homework'.

After a few hours of pouring over texts, they finally found the files on Hellsing.

The more they read, the more they understood why the Vatican and Father Anderson hated them so.

Sacrilege, heresy, the list of sins went on but nothing viler than the files on Olivia and Walter.

"Father Anderson was right," Robin pointed to the corresponding sections with a wrinkled nose. "Hellsing really is horrible."

"That is why he built the orphanage." Lea added on. "To save other children from being corrupted."

There was a heavy pause as the thirteen absorbed what they had learned before the twins broke it.

"We want to help Father Anderson." They declared in unison.

"And how do you two plan on doing that?" Lea crossed her arms with a scoff.

"Father Anderson is the best Iscariot agent," Belle defended her fellow ten year olds. "He can teach us and when we grow up, we can fight beside him."

There was another pause, the wheels in their heads spinning at max speed.

"…..I'm in." Daisy stepped forward. "Father Anderson saved us, and I want to do the same for others."

One by one, all came to agreement and the next day they approached Anderson with their request.

Hesitant at first, Anderson was about to reject them when Tanya pointed out that he started his training around their age too.

So he conceded and the children dove in head first.

Some were more athletically inclined than others, but as the years passed all thirteen were able to handle weapons with varying degrees of proficiency.

Even little Katia had learned to wield daggers with grace and poise.

Anderson never intended for the children to one day join him in battle, yet he couldn't deny the pride swelling his chest at how the children had grown.

So, he continued to guide them while awaiting a sign or miracle.

A 'miracle' that finally came around on the ten year anniversary of the Vatican massacre.

For the past ten years, the Vatican held a vigil for the fallen priests in addition to the New Year's Eve Mass.

Katia, almost thirteen now, was currently pattering around the Vatican grounds, helping wherever she could.

As the only one of the original group left at the orphanage, she worked tirelessly to step up as a role model for the younger children.

The older twelve had already taken their vows as nuns or priests of Iscariot and were currently off on a mission to Venice with Anderson, leaving Katia in charge.

"Alright….check….check….check! Okay, now I can–Oh! One last thing!" She hurried over to the memorial candles nestled in the chapel corner and lit thirteen candles before clasping her hands together in prayer.

On every anniversary, Katia would light candles and pray for the repose of the priests' souls

However, after finishing her prayers, she did something different this time.

After a moment's hesitation, she lit another candle and offered a prayer for Olivia's soul as well.

Why?

It just felt like the right thing to do.

"Amen." Katia did the sign of the cross and hurried out of the chapel to get ready for mass.

She was in such a hurry that she failed to notice Father Renaldo watching her from the balcony, his eyes lingering on the additional candle she had lit.

After ensuring the children were properly dressed and sending them on ahead, Katia hurried around the orphanage to ensure everything was in order.

The windows were locked, no lanterns left burning, no stray children left behind, everything looked to be in order.

"I have to hurry." Katia raced down the main staircase. "I hope they saved me a seat instead of–." She pulled on the front door, only to find it locked. "What? Why is it—?"

"Hello, Katia."

She spun around to find Renaldo behind her, his figure shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight reflecting on his glasses.

"H-Hello, Father." Katia gulped, back pressed against the door. "What brings you here? I was just on my way to mass! I sent the children ahead of me because I had to make sure everything was secure! I wasn't skipping out or anything!"

"Really now?" Renaldo stepped forward, his movements slow and calculated. "Is that all?"

"Of course, Father! Of course!" She gulped, her heart beating a mile a minute.

"You dare to lie to me, Katia Yai? To a priest of Iscariot?" He drew closer, his cleric robe almost brushing her nose. "I will see that you serve your penance. Now, tell me the truth. What is Anderson hiding?"

"H-Hiding? What?! What are you talking about?!"

"Another sin?" Renaldo scoffed, moving his hand from behind his back and revealing a caning stick. "I know Anderson stole The Shroud of Lazarus, but I can't figure out why. For years he has avoided my questions and it is obvious he has dragged you children into his deceit."

"Wh–?!"

"Why did you light another candle? You have never done so before, so why now?! What are you hiding?! Answer me!" Renaldo raised the stick, his cold eyes burning into hers. "Or will you continue playing these games?"

"...Games? I am not playing games, Father." Anderson's teachings echoed through her mind as she shifted her right hand behind her, feeling her dagger hidden in her dress folds. "But if you insist, then I will oblige." She prayed to God for forgiveness and courage before hardening her gaze. "Tag, you're it."

And in a flash, Katia charged forward, ducking down to slice his leg, before fleeing up the stairs with Renaldo's screams booming behind her.

Reaching under her collar, she pulled out the whistle Anderson had given her before his departure and blew with all her might.

"This whistle emits a high frequency that only I can hear, regardless of how far I am." He had instructed her, placing the silver whistle in her palms and curling her fingers around it. "Use it and I–along with your sisters and brothers–will rush to your side."

How long would that take though?

Katia knew it was only a matter of time before Renaldo summoned his agents to come after her, so her only option was to hide and pray her family would come swiftly.

But where to hide?

Where?!

"Katia!" Renaldo roared from behind along with a flurry of steps that sent her pulse into overdrive.

Reinforcements had just arrived.

"Ohgoshohgoshohgosh," She racked her brain for a hiding spot until that familiar corridor caught her eye, as if beckoning to her.

Without hesitation, Katia fleed down the hallway and towards the portrait.

'Blessed Mother, Father Anderson,' She ripped the portrait off the wall and picked the lock with her dagger, her hands shaking as the footsteps grew closer. 'Please forgive me!'

The lock opened and the chains fell to the ground as she tore the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

She would be found soon, the fallen portrait and locks were a dead giveaway, so all Katia could do as she hid behind the stone block was pray.

Pray for her family to save her.

Pray for the strength to combat Renaldo and his agents.

Pray for Olivia, who rested above her on the stone block, to protect her.

"Please," She whimpered, clutching her dagger as the footsteps halted outside the door. "Please don't let them hurt me."

There was silence before the door was kicked open and the agents rushed in, only to scream in horror at what laid within.

"I knew it," came Renaldo's voice and Katia watched his shadow limp into the tomb. "How dare you, Anderson. You have betrayed your brothers, His Holiness, and God himself."

The sight of Renaldo raising a blade over Olivia spurred Katia into action and with a cry, she threw herself over Olivia and brandished her dagger.

"No! I won't let you!" She sneered, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Father Anderson said God brought her here for a reason! You can't–!"

Katia's head snapped to the left and blood pooled in her mouth, yet she held strong and held on tighter.

"You have been corrupted," Renaldo raised his hand again, this time grasping his sword. "I will now cleanse your wretched soul. May God have mercy on you."

Katia shut her eyes as he swung his blade down, praying for her departed parents to welcome her in Heaven.

Yet all she was greeted with were wails of terror.

Upon opening her eyes, Katia peered up and found a hand had seized Renaldo's wrist, preventing him from delivering the fatal blow.

'Father Anderson!' Katia initially cheered, before realizing her savior's arm was wrapped in linen and originating from the body beneath her.

"Oh God…..Anderson," Renaldo quivered, the sword falling from his grip. "What have you done?"

Katia could only whimper as she slowly turned her head and found a single green eye staring back at her.

"You've finally awakened…." She breathed out, flinching as the linen wrapped figure sat up, their eye shifting towards Renaldo and his agents. "Olivia."

Smoke billowed from Olivia's mouth as a feral growl filled the room and all descended into chaos.

"Alucard?" Pushpa, now a woman of twenty-eight, paused her musings when she realized her companion was no longer beside her. "Alucard, what–?"

She found him with his back to her, staring up at the full moon with a hand over his chest.

"Alucard?" She moved in front of him, gasping when she spotted the bloody tears staining his cheeks. "Alucard! Are you alright?! What's wrong?!"

"I…" He clutched his chest, hunching over slightly to Pushpa's panic. "For a moment I swore…..I felt….." His eyes flashed blue and his tears became clear. "Olivia?"

A/N: Anderson's vision about Olivia is based off the art by smoke-and-silver which you can see on my Tumblr. And I have also moved this fic to A03 so you can read on both websites. But yes, Olivia is back! The next chapter will go over what Pushpa and Alucard did over the ten year gap before going back to Olivia at the Vatican. There is a lot still to happen before we reach canon material. Thank you very much for reading. Please leave a review and please look forward to the next chapter. Thank you all again for your patience.