Alucard would likely have stumbled when the world returned to - for a given value of the world - normal. He hadn't felt himself or his surroundings slow down or speed up, yet, after whatever had happened ended, his instincts pointed towards the substance of reality being altered. The No-Life King felt something like abruptly being put into motion, and only managed not to trip through a combination of vampiric agility and the telekinesis je seldom used.

When he grasped things with his mind, it was usually to rend them, though his recent trick with the ship was an exception. Much more fun to have flesh burst in his hands and bathe in the resulting blood than rip everything apart from a distance.

But faceplanting would have been simply embarrassing, hence, the deployment of this ability. He could have shifted form, or even the state of the matter that made up his immortal coil, thus becoming intangible, but those powers were used even more rarely. Most of the time, there was no point.

Alucard peered around with eyes as sharp as any raptor's, but nothing seemed to have changed significantly, the absence of his traitorous enemy aside. Honestly, he cared as much about Walter turning his coat as he cared about seeing London burn - he told himself. The old fool should've fought him like a man, he had the skill, the weapons. No need to remake himself into a mockery of one of his spawn.

The Angel of Death must've gone senile in his old age, because he'd forgotten who he was; else, he was plagued by the same breed of stupidity as the late priest. Alucard didn't think he'd been more disappointed than when he'd seen Anderson pull put that thrice-damned nail...well, maybe during his first, mortal lifetime.

Alucard turned around, feeling the approaching stranger well before the sound of his footsteps reached his ears, and allowed a fanged smirk to slide across his face. He could all but smell Walter's blood on those workman's hands. A substitute, maybe, for the fight he'd been denied. Hoepfully, this one knew how to fight like a man, not like a mongrel freak.

The man stopped a dozen paces away, or so, giving the vampire a sullen glare. His hands rested on his belt, near his holstered revolvers. Between the twin guns and the coat...honestly, Alucard could have chuckled. He had some style, at least, even if he dressed like his favourite colour was brown.

'Hello there,' he said, eyes almost hidden under his wild, dark hair. 'It seems we both have each other at a disadvantage.'

'Name's Adrien Saint,' the man said in a voice as friendly as his expression. 'And you're Alucard, Hellsing's trump card.' He turned his head, spitting. 'Vlad the Impaler, one of the bloodiest bastards from a time of bloody bastards.'

He chuckled. 'Oh? Does my reputation precede me?'

'The body count is hard to miss,' Saint replied humourlessly. 'Either of them. You killed more people, had more people killed, than some wars, back when you were just human.'

'Thank you.' He half-bowed, hand to his unbeating heart. 'I do have a knack for making history.' He gave the gunslinger a sly look. 'But you are not here to talk about that, are you?'

Now it was Saint who smiled. Much like his voice, there was little joy in it. 'I am the Walking Man,' he said, like that meant anything to Alucard. 'God's wrath in the world of men.'

The vampire laughed. 'Every holy man I've ever killed said the same.'

'The difference is that I'm not lying, to myself or the world,' Saint replied, as if Alucard had called him dishonest. Reacting like this when he merely pointed out fanatics made grand claims? Temper, temper... 'And I know my purpose. I know why I am here.'

As if a switch had been flipped, an aura of menace suddenly radiated from the man, making Alucard tense. But, before he could reach out with his mind and take the blood that spattered the city into himself - something told him he would need all the lives he could take - he found himself unable to act.

It wasn't like being restrained, by force or bindings or his obligation to dead old Abraham's descendants. It was like that time, when he'd been just a warlord princeling standing at the border between East and West, and he'd been so out of sorts after a battle, he'd felt like a stranger in his own body.

Such human frailties had been wiped away by undeath, so why, how could he feel like he'd been cut off from his flesh?

Keeping an eye on him, Saint half-turned, raising a hand, palm up. Immediately, all the blood spilled in London rushed into his grasp, as if eager. Alucard would've let out a mock-jealous chuckle, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to do so.

'Blood is life,' Saint proclaimed with all the arrogance of a fledgling vampire as he strode towards him. "Here - in this cosmos - spirits are tied to vitae...how many were you going to end, you ravening dog?'

Alucard showed his fangs in a sheepish, insincere smile. 'I end no souls. I take them within myself, and from there, I draw upon them, wielding them like weapons, bearing them like armour.'

'Sacrificing them for another resurrection,' Saint added, and the vampire dipped his head in acknowledgement. 'Burning up immortal souls as pitilessly as any furnace of Hell.'

'I shall take that as a compliment.'

For some reason, that made the man laugh, and Alucard found himself joining. Flattery usually did not gain anyone his favour, as Luke Valentine cluld attest, but it hardly hurt.

And he was once again able to talk. Good thing, too: practicality aside, that had been to close to home, in terms of achingly boring memories it had brought to mind. No matter what he told Integra, in public and in private, she was one of the kinder Masters he'd had. Some of her ancestors had been more of a pain in the neck than his ilk could ever be, when it'd come to what they'd allowed him to say.

When his laughter wound down, Saint's eyes, until then hidden in the shadows of his hat, lit up like molten white gold. Then, extending his hand, which the sphere of blood floated above, he said, 'This would have been the end of you, vampire. For decades, at least.'

'Oh? Whatever do you mean?' Alucard asked, interested. As far as he knew, there was no limit but ability when it came to how much a vampire could drink.

They were great. They contained multitudes.

Saint pointed to something in the distance even Alucard's inhuman sight couldn't spot. 'This would have been a trap, the honey around the poison. You are familiar with what the Nazis have at their disposal?'

Not the ability to weaponise delusion, or the world would have been doomed decades ago. 'Enlighten me.'

'Their monsters. Not the manmade ones. The wolf. The cat.'

Ah, yes. The Captain and the Warrant Officer. Nothing but the thrill of the fight, the need to avoid boredom, could have made him fight the werewolf without silver in hand. It would've been pointless. As for the boy...he had once shot his brains out, only for him to reappear, unscathed. Quantum immortality, as he understood, with teleportation as part of the same package.

'What of them?' Alucard, seeing he was able to move once more, looked around as if the two might be hiding in a corner, or in the blood construct Saint was holding.

The Walking Man rolled his eyes. 'That fat son of a bitch in the blimp, their Major, would have defeated you using the Schrodinger brat. Drinking his blood, you would have received the way he perceives the world, and himself. With his mind and millions of others inside you, you would have been unable to exist physically, and would have faded out of reality for a third of a lifetime.'

Well, well...wasn't that just ingenious of Max? Alucard would've preferred to fight the immortal child for as long as he could, tear him apart forever, if possible, but he supposed cowards did not think that way, no matter how warlike they professed to be. In a way, it made sense that the Major had chosen to take him off the board, using Schrodinger as a cat's paw.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

How...appropriate.

'Then I suppose I ought to thank you for saving me,' Alucard said, which made the Walking Man smile as widely as he did. 'Am I to understand Warrant Officer Schrodinger's blood is in that sphere you've created?'

Saint reached behind himself - not into a pocket, Alucard thought - and produced a smaller blood construct. Then, he placed his hands together, merging the collected viate. 'It is now.'

'I see.' He realised he could neither approach Saint, nor move away. Interesting, but there was little chance of a being who could retrain him like this, without a touch, being a good fight in anything but the most basic sense. 'And what do you gain from this? You will forgive me for not believing you are saving me out of the kindness of your heart.'

It was Saint who closed the distance between them, at which point Alucard became once again able to move, now that there was no point.

Figures.

'When I came here,' Saint began, 'I thought I would have to dispose of you, like I did of Dornez and like I will of the dregs above.' And then divine revelation struck him, and he realised the virtue of the undead, Alucard bet. 'But then I saw that would not help me reach the destination I had in mind when I arrived - but this will. The Lord showed me the paths that stretch ahead, for you and your world. Do you know what would have happened, had you drank this blood?'

'According to you, I would have faded, only to find my way back...eventually.' Alucard wasn't sure how. By destroying his other lives until he only had one perspective, maybe. Slaughtering souls for decades sounded fun, at least, and it seemed like it would have been productive, too.

'That you'd have. And in the meantime, what do you think your Master and your fledgling would have done?'

The women...Integra was far more sentimental that he let on, especially when it came to him, and his police girl (why, he fancied he could even see her, rushing toward him, through the heat haze-like effect caused by Saint's presence) wore her heart on her sleeve. Likely, they have spent every moment not dedicated to their duties and lives looking for way to bring him back.

And what a waste of time that would've been...

Alucard chuckled. 'Don't tell me you're so concerned for them you went out of our way to make sure their monster is undead and well.'

'I am not made of stone,' Saint said, 'but this is not about that. You would've wasted thirty years putting yourself together, vampire. Three decades. Do you know how many monsters you could've killed in that time?'

Alucard shrugged. He was more interesting in the fights humans could give him. 'I'm sure Hellsing would've found a way to put them down.'

'Certainly; but this isn't about Hellsing.'

'Oh?'

And, as Saint spoke, all the time dismantling what was left of the Major and his underlings, Alucard learned of universes beyond his, an endless collection of realities. So much blood to be spilled, and drank. So many battles to be had...

'If I give you this blood,' Saint said, holding up Schrodinger's, 'you will be able to use the time you'd have spent recovering hunting instead. Killing. Sharpening the cat's abilities.'

Alucard pointed at the other sphere. 'And what of theirs?'

Saint sent it flying upwards with a flick of his wrist, and the construct came apart with a wet sound and the almost inaudible gasp of freed souls. 'They will go where their lives earned them a place.' His gaze turned flinty as his now free hand grasped a pistol, pulling it out and pointing it at Alucard faster than the vampire could see. 'But I'm not going to make a murderous freak even harder to kill just like that. I have a test for you.'

Alucard let the presumptuousness slide, because honestly, this man was so arrogant it was hilarious. 'Do you, now. And what might happen afterwards?'

Saint moved the pistol between his head and heart, but Alucard knew a shot would kill him no matter where it landed. 'I can see your sins. If there is anything within you to be salvaged, if there is anything left of that boy who wanted nothing more than to escape a monster's court,' Alucard tensed, despite himself, 'you will live, after a fashion. But if you are truly nothing more than a freak like the ones you hunt, if you've only rid the world of evil because you were compelled to, you will-'

'WAIT!'

Alucard blinked as the young blonde woman interposed herself between them with a true vampire's speed. Any other time, he'd have needled Seras for answers - how had she left her undead infancy behind? - but...

Alucard glanced at the equally bewildered-looking Saint, then gave him an arrogant smirk. 'Why, Adrien. You can't even stop a child from slipping past you and I'm supposed to believe you can kill me?'

Saint glowered, but before he could respond, Seras tugged at his hand, making him look down at her. 'Master! What happened? Who-' her eyes, now red, flicked towards Saint. 'Who is this man?'

'Later, police girl,' he promised her, placing a hand on her head, then looking back at the Walking Man. 'Well?'

'God's intervention, obviously,' Saint muttered, as if talking to himself, then lowered his gun, giving Seras a tired grin. 'You're as innocent as you lot come, and I'm not about to sin.' Then, losing his smile, he addressed Alucard. 'I suppose a woman like her jumping in front of a gun for you is as much proof of your character as anything.'

* * *

Thirty Years Later

Alucard made his way from the training room at an easy stroll, sniggering to himself as he watched Seras put another recruit through the wringer. After all the times he'd accidentally showed up when his Master would rather he hadn't, Integra had forbidden him from teleporting around the Manor, the tyrant. Somehow, he would survive.

The hallway he walked down was positively spartan, as far as the Hellsing family's home went, but even if it hadn't been, Alucard believed Saint would've stood out. He was that sort of man.

'Oho? Just walked in, have we?' he asked lazily, mirroring the man's posture as he leaned against the wall opposite Saint.

The Walking Man snorted, not deigning to meet his eyes. 'I hear boss lady's only letting you sharpen your new skills outside.'

Alucard was too old to grumble. 'Her prerogative. What brings you here?'

Saint answered, and Alucard's smile grew three sizes that day. True, it had been pleasant, being able to appear anywhere in the world while scouring it for monster, but he felt it was time to broaden his horizons. Saint spoke of cosmoses where even he would've struggled to survive, despite hsi twofold deathlessness.

And of a hub, from where practically all places and times could be reached.

'This Nightside of yours sounds lovely, Adrien,' Alucard said as they strode out of the Manor. 'Almost as lovely as the locals! And it even sounds like the clime will agree with me.'

'It's a dump,' Saint groused. 'And nothing in the Nightside agrees with anyone, least of all its weather.' His eyes lit up, meeting Alucard's despite his glasses. 'But, yes. It is your kind of place. Remember, though: I'm going there on business. If you tag along, you'll have to stay out of the way. Or you might as well use your new power and find another universe to haunt..'

'Certainly! But, until then...' Alucard smiled. 'Shall we go on a walk?'