𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖗

Opt

Integra Hellsing sat at the head of the long oak table, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. The air in the room was heavy with the scent of cigars and sweat, mingling with the tension that filled the space. Around her, a group of men—old, bloated with arrogance and greed—sat discussing matters they barely understood. Their suits were well-tailored, but their hands were filthy with corruption and self-interest.

Disgusting, she thought, keeping her face impassive as she listened to them drone on about military logistics and the threat of supernatural forces. The men talked over one another, each trying to assert dominance, their voices grating in her ears like the scrape of metal on stone.

But this meeting, however unbearable, was necessary.

Reports had been coming in steadily over the past few weeks. The soldiers patrolling the borders of the United Kingdom had noticed an increase in strange activity—more and more ghouls, vampires, and other nightmarish creatures were slipping through the cracks. Their origins were unknown, and their purpose unclear. But it was a growing threat, and Integra knew that her role as the head of the Hellsing Organization meant it was her duty to uncover the source and stop it before it spiraled out of control.

She flicked through the reports in front of her, her eyes scanning the familiar details. The soldiers had seen the creatures near old churchyards, abandoned factories, and the darker alleys of London. Their numbers were increasing, and even her own forces were struggling to keep up.

A man seated across from her—an aging general with a thick mustache and an inflated sense of his own importance—was ranting about the need for "more conventional weapons." As if bullets alone could stop the kind of threat they were facing.

Integra kept her expression neutral, though her patience was wearing thin. She'd had these meetings many times before—meeting after meeting filled with men who couldn't grasp the magnitude of what was happening. She was the only one in the room who truly understood the scale of the war they were fighting. The war against the supernatural.

Still, she remained calm, her ice-blue eyes narrowing slightly as she allowed the men to speak.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the estate, the sound reverberating through the walls. Several of the businessmen jumped in their seats, startled by the sudden noise. Their hands gripped the arms of their chairs, eyes darting toward the door as though expecting something monstrous to burst through at any moment.

But Integra didn’t flinch. She remained perfectly still, her posture unyielding as her cold gaze stayed fixed on the men.

She knew exactly what—or rather, who—had caused the disturbance.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice calm and authoritative, cutting through the tension like a blade. "That is simply Alucard."

Some of the men shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort evident at the mention of the infamous vampire. Alucard was a name that carried with it a mix of fear, respect, and uncertainty. A weapon unlike any other—one that the Hellsing Organization alone commanded.

The loud crash was followed by the faint sound of something—or someone—being dragged across the floor. Integra’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t react beyond that. This was, after all, typical behavior for Alucard. No matter how many creatures he slaughtered or how much havoc he wrought in her halls, it was nothing she wasn’t already accustomed to.

“Shall we continue?” she asked, her tone sharp enough to remind the men that they had a job to do. They were here for a reason, and it wasn’t to be distracted by the chaos that accompanied her loyal servant.