THE HELLSING MANOR — DECEMBER 6TH, 1999 — 12;47 A.M.

The Hellsing manor did not welcome Alexander Anderson so much as tolerate him. Stone corridors echoed with restrained hostility, Protestant symbols lining the walls like quiet accusations as Vatican authority settled him into place.

The truce was brittle; an agreement forged under the weight of something far worse than old grudges. A mutual enemy, vast and apocalyptic in scale, had forced Rome and Hellsing into cooperation, and Anderson had been assigned as both observer and weapon.

Indefinitely.

The word sat poorly with him. He was not a guest. He was a reminder.

His quarters were placed with an almost deliberate cruelty. Just a few doors down from the vampire. Anderson could feel Alucard’s presence the way one feels pressure before a storm; unseen, but unmistakable.

He shed his coat, loosened his collar, and thumbed the worn spine of his Bible while pacing the small room. Orders rang loud in his mind; no violence, no provocation, no martyrdom.

A humourless huff escaped him. If the Church wanted obedience, they should not have stationed him beside the Devil’s favourite hound.

Boredom crept in quickly, sharp and restless, the kind that begged to be answered.

After all, if they were to coexist, it would be dishonest not to acknowledge the tension openly.

Anderson stepped back into the corridor, boots heavy against the floor, and stopped outside Alucard’s door. He didn’t bother with caution. His knuckles struck the wood firmly, twice, the sound deliberate. A grin tugged at his mouth beneath his glasses, eyes alight with restrained mischief and challenge.

“Well now,” Anderson called, voice thick with his accent, warm and cutting all at once. “Seems we’re neighbours, ye an’ I. Ain’t that a blessed coincidence?” He tilted his head slightly, listening for movement beyond the door.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m nae here t’start a fight. Orders are orders.” A pause, then a soft chuckle. “Just thought I’d say hello on our first night playin’ house together. Would be rude not to, aye?”