I'll admit, I wasn't sure how to introduce Anderson and didn't want to skip straight to the declaration of war, so I apologize if it feels strange.

Y/N sighed as he relaxed from his stretch, heading down to the range. He was pretty impressed with the Hellsing estate. It was like a massively upscaled version of his dream home. Indoor range, spacious, sturdy, and somewhat isolated. The young man was so entranced by his thoughts and the building itself that he hadn't noticed a certain, short blond sneak up on him.

"Hey! Y/N! Where are you going?" Schrödinger popped up, causing the werewolf to jump in surprise. He spun around and threw a haymaker punch that probably would have killed whoever it hit. Y/N was able to stop his fist inches from her face, the force whipping Schrödinger's hair around wildly. She just stared, wide eyed at him. There hadn't even been time to react, let alone put up some kind of guard.

"WHOA! Jesus! Gonna need to put a bell on you..." he chuckled a little, shaking his head.

"Um, what were you saying? I was on my way to the range when, you know," the werewolf laughed sheepishly. Schrödinger giggled a bit before shaking her head.

"It's fine. I was asking where you were going anyway." Y/N nodded, stretching a bit. The two talked a little and Schrödinger seemed quite interested in him. Possibly because they were both some form of lycan. Though it would probably be better to say that Schrödinger was partially a werewolf, while Y/N was full. It had become apparent they weren't the only ones in the hallway when Y/N could smell Seras just a few yards down the hallway, hiding behind a corner and glaring at them. He just laughed and waved the vampire over. Somewhat surprised and admittedly a little relieved, Seras joined them, taking the other side of him.

"Why are we going to the range?" Seras asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

"My dad had a few things he was going to give me for my 22nd birthday, but had them in his will to give to me as well should the worst ever happen. Just too bad it came down to his will." Both tried to comfort him, putting a hand on each shoulder. He just smiled and looked to both of them.

"It'll be alright. I'll take down those Nazi fuckwits if it's the last thing I do," he said confidently. Schrödinger had a look of concern, though the lycan brushed it off as concern for him. Y/N and company made it to the range and a several cases sat on the benches. There was a suppressed Ox Firearms Sniper, a suppressed HK MP5, a Benelli M4 Super 90, and a suppressed Brugger & Thomet APC9.

"Holy shit, Dad..." he muttered. There was a note with the Benelli.

"Apologies; I was unable to get all of it to you at once, though we are already attempting to procure the rest. ~ Integra" Seras read as Y/N lifted up the Sniper and aimed down range, the iron sights lining up nicely.

"6.5 Grendel? Dad sure had some expensive tastes. I mean, the MP5 is the full auto military model, same with the APC9. I wonder whatever else he had for me that he never got to see me fire..." he mumbled, pulling the magazine out and jacking back the charging handle. A bullet was ejected, indicating it had a full mag and one in the chamber.

"You Americans sure love your guns..." Schrödinger said, a slight shiver running down her spine.

"Just you wait till I get to bring the warcrime stick down on them. I'll seem like an entirely different guy. I mean, a Winchester 1897 was the bane of German military during the World Wars. I mean, just imagine how it must've felt sitting in those trenches waiting for the time to charge only for some Yank fuck to hop the barbed wire, crank off six shells into your section before stabbing you with the sword stuck on the end of it. You'd be one sour kraut," he said, chuckling. Seras couldn't stop the giggle and even Schrödinger had to suppress a laugh.

After familiarizing himself with his weapons, Seras, Schrödinger, and Y/N were sent out to take care of a ghoul infestation at an orphanage. The young draculina went silent for a moment before her eyes briefly flashed red as she remembered the last time she went to an orphanage on a mission. And some traumatic backstory before that. They had gone off and as soon as they arrived, Y/N held his arm out to stop them both. He sniffed the air and his eyes widened.

"There are still people alive in there! Watch your fields of fire; we don't want any casualties." Both Schrödinger and Seras nodded, Schrödinger chambering a round in her newly received Heckler and Koch VP9. Seras had been given a modified version of the Sig Sauer P226, something that Y/N seemed mildly jealous of, not that he would trade it for his classic Colt M1911 in .45 ACP. Of course, the bullets had been custom made and the pistol practically rebuilt from the ground up with better materials to withstand his new super human reflexes. They had begun clearing the building, each one taking a floor to cover more ground. Everything was going smoothly until they regrouped on the fourth floor and Y/N sniffed again, eyes narrowing.

"Back again for more, lass? You even brought new friends this time!" a new voice rang out in a Scottish accent, forcing Y/N to spin around and aim his pistol.

"Don't move! Identify yourself!" Y/N demanded, eyes trained on the man before him. He was tall, with short blond hair, round glasses, a large white cassock, black boots, a black shirt, a clerical collar, white gloves, and a silver cross around his neck. Even with the cross on his neck, the man reeked of silver and holy water, giving Y/N a clue as to who the man was.

"I am Father Alexander Anderson, member of the Iscariot organization and monster hunter. Seras, it's been some time, hasn't it?!" he asked, rushing the three. Y/N was quick to fire all seven rounds into Anderson's chest and head, only to holster the weapon and punch the priest when his bullets had no effect. Anderson was surprised by the force and staggered back.

"You're not like Alucard, Santo de los Lobos!" Anderson hissed angrily. Y/N smirked.

"And act like a lap dog to the Brits? Pretty sure we told them to fuck off on August 2nd, 1776!" Y/N said, grinning. Anderson stood tall.

"An American working for Hellsing? What sort of deal did they give you?" he asked, lunging back into melee as the Father drew his bayonets.

"A shot at Millennium for what they did to me and my fellow Americans! I was kept in chains, forced to become something inhuman! It's as they say, the Tree of Liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots from time to time!" As the two had their spat, Anderson began grinning as he swung his bayonet. The blade cut right through Y/N's clothes and left a deep, painful gash across the chest. He grunted in pain before taking out a Gerber Strongarm fixed blade knife and stabbing Alexander in the shoulder.

"Then we have the same goal! What faith do you belong to?!"

"None! Being tortured for months and treated like an animal can do that to you!" Both were seeming to enjoy the fight, though they both backed away.

"As an American, I assume you respect my faith?" The younger man nodded, still in a fighting stance. Alexander nodded and looked past him.

"And you were even careful to defend the living orphans still hiding in the building. If nothing else, you have my respect, young man," Alexander said, Y/N nodding back.

"Got a funny way of showing it. Though, I gotta admit I'm glad you didn't use the silver," he said, feeling the slowly healing cut on his chest.

"Aye, you may be a werewolf but your humanity has remained in tact, if for no other reason than to spite your captors," Anderson took an extra step back as Bible pages began floating around him.

"I believe I will be seeing you three soon. Be wary of the blondes. Though they look innocent, both are unpredictable."