Did NOT realize there were almost 2000 words in the last chapter. The following ones will probably not be as long for my own sanity and a more consistent upload schedule, but comment which you'd prefer and I'll do my damnedest to make it happen.

"Ah, Y/N. Come to meet your new coworkers before dinner I presume?" Integra asked, looking at the male as he stepped into the room. He merely grunted in response, crossing his arms as he leaned against a wall by a painting. He listened as Integra explained exactly what Hellsing was about to the French mercenary group. Seras took up a spot next to Y/N, though didn't get too close out of a respect for his space. The Frenchmen began laughing as they were told what exactly they were going to be dealing with. Y/N chuckled.

"You don't even know the half of it. I'm a fuckin' werewolf and the bombshell here is a vampire. Those fangs aren't just for show," he said, shaking his head. Seras covered her mouth for a moment before the realization of what he said kicked in. Integra couldn't stop the chuckle from leaving her as the head of the Hellsing organization watched her newest vampire stand straighter.

"B-Bombshell?" Seras asked with a beet-red face.

"It means you're beautiful, blondie, keep up. Integra, hand me some silver. You boys ever see a man burn at the touch of a 'pure' metal?" he asked, holding his hand out. Integra was hesitant to comply, considering this would no doubt hurt. Those thoughts changed when Y/N rolled up his sleeve. Dozens of scars, some even vaguely resembling the Nazi SS symbol, and outright brands of the Nazi flag littered his arm. Presumably, this was the same for his entire body. Even the mercs were quick to shut up upon seeing each burn and scar. Y/N grinned as he was handed the silver cross Integra wore. They watched it sizzle in his hand, seeing the damage it really caused when Y/N pressed it against one of the 'SS' scars.

"Y/N!" Seras gasped, watching the skin painfully blister as he removed the cross from his arm and handed it back to Integra. The borderline sadistic grin he had on his face was alarming to even Integra.

"Those Nazi cunts put me in chains. And I can't let that stand so long as the blood that flows inside me is as red as the stripes on the American flag. So let's get one thing straight. Integra hasn't told you a single lie, meaning you'd better take her seriously." He strode out of the room, rolling his shirt sleeve back down to cover his scars. Seras chased her colleague down, hoping to at least comfort him in some way. Between what she had seen of his scars and how he seemed so hateful of these Millennium guys, she knew he'd been through Hell and hadn't come out the other side completely intact. Her heightened sense of smell allowed her to follow him back to his room.

"W-WAIT!" Seras called after him. Just before she could catch up, she heard him slam the door shut before the shouting started.

"FUCK! DAMN NAZI ASSHOLES! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU'LL ALL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY FAMILY!" he snarled, the sound of brick being smashed cutting under his voice. Seras couldn't help but just stand outside and listen, leaning against the door with uncertainty. As she listened, his rage turned to sobs. Being the bleeding heart that she was, Seras knocked on the door.

"Who the fuck-" Y/N asked, throwing open the door to see a startled draculina.

"Oh. You. You never heard that and this conversation never happened." His voice was a low growl, but it sounded closer to a whimper for a second.

"Do you mind if I come in?" Seras asked, smiling sheepishly.

"... No. I'd actually like to visit the armory."

Meanwhile, a portly, bespectacled German man growled as he stared down at his subordinates. One was absurdly tall and lanky, her long, wild black hair helping draw attention to her broken spectacles. The other, a buff ginger woman with tattoos littering the right side of her body, even her face. Writing littered her right side while a pentagram occupied a space in the center of her forehead. They both seemed rather nervous.

"You've both failed in containing our God-slaying wolf. Not only was the American allowed to escape, but you both also failed to mention he was already afflicted with the true strain of lycanthropy! The strain Captain Hans gave him merely awakened him as a pure werewolf! Scheiße, you had two jobs! Keep the boy sedated and chained in silver while you collected data on how we could make more of him!" The Major huffed, standing up. The Captain merely grunted, also glaring disapprovingly at the two vampires. Both began to sweat nervously, well aware that they had only been spared death due to their abilities. They each served a purpose in the plan and it appeared to be their one saving grace.

"Um, Herr Major, might I suggest 'that' plan?" Another German man wearing spectacles asked, stepping out of the shadows. Both of the vampires being berated were confused. There was a backup plan? Perhaps that was why they hadn't been dealt with as harshly on the spot.

"Of course, Doktor. It may be our only hope of salvaging this malfeasance," he sighed, taking a seat in his chair.

"Schrödinger, you'll do your part, won't you? After all, a fräulein such as yourself will be rewarded quite well for your efforts," The Major said in a rather sinister tone.

"But Major, why am I-... ooooh~ I understand the plan now! I suppose it would be an honor to court a man like him. I just hope I'm the first lady in line!~" an androgynous figure said playfully. Its voice started with a masculine tone, shifting in time with the realization to match a more feminine sound. As the figure stepped into the light, their silhouette changed, if only slightly with wider hips and a smaller waist. Schrödinger giggled slightly, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Just be sure to scrub clean beforehand. He could easily sniff you out as a spy if he catches even the hint of Rip or Zorin, and we don't need him running off," the Doktor said, biting his lip. The plan was a last resort for a reason and he hoped his concerns were to remain as intangible as his thoughts.