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"Captain, I see something."
Waves crashed gently against the pirate vessel Pipistrelle. Captain Integra of the Hellsing Pirates looked up.
"What is it, Bernadotte?"
"Some kind of box," Pip Bernadotte answered from the crow's nest. A misnomer, since he was a Goose. "It's big and black."
"Shall I fish it out, my lady?" Walter asked beside her. She nodded, and everyone gathered on the main deck, eager to witness what could be the first interesting thing to happen today.
The deep blue waves of the Grand Line were, for the moment, deceptively serene. Integra and her crew were enjoying a rare bout of peace. Even the News Coo was slacking at its job: the bird squawked on Seras Victoria's shoulder as she giggled and fed it bits of her bread. Walter cast his wires out, and after a brief struggle—the thing was surprisingly heavy, prompting Seras to wonder aloud if it could be a treasure chest—the box landed on the deck.
They stared at it.
"Well, it's definitely not a treasure chest," Pip remarked.
"It's a coffin," Walter deadpanned.
It was, indeed, a coffin. Immensely large and black, so much so that the puddle of sea water around it seemed to turn into tar. Integra bent her neck over it. Her long, silvery blonde hair almost, but not quite, grazed the surface. A cross was engraved on it.
"Décevant," Pip sighed. "Some poor bastard had a sea burial. Guess he's luckier than most if there were enough bits of him to put in a casket. Which is fucking huge, by the way. How big was this guy?"
"Isn't it kind of strange, though?" Seras said, nibbling on the rest of her bread. The News Coo had flown off in fright the moment it saw the coffin.
"What is?"
"How is it still...intact?"
The crew fell silent.
Seras had a point. They were in the middle of the Grand Line, days away from the nearest island. While not as infested as the Calm Belt, Sea Kings dwelled just out of sight, and they would have for sure noticed a large black box bobbing on the waves. Like they had.
Sea Kings attacked and devoured anything and everything. So how was this box still out here, miles and miles away from shore, from any other ship, whole and unblemished except for the rust on its hinges?
"I say we chuck it back in," said Pip.
"That is not your decision to make," Walter was swift to remind him, but he also turned to Integra expectantly. "Captain?"
"Maybe we should take it to shore?" Seras ventured. "It's sad that whoever's in there has been wandering alone like this. We should give them a proper burial on land..."
"I don't think anyone in there cares about loneliness at this point—"
"Open it," Integra ordered.
Her three crew members made varying noises of consternation.
"Boss," Pip began, "one of the first rules on the Grand Line is never open a suspicious barrel. It might be a bomb. It might be a trap. It might be a bomb and a trap and some freaky guy is waiting to hone in on our location to harvest our shadows. Or the freaky guy himself is in there, about to burst out and drag us into his anarchist adventures. And this isn't a barrel, it's a whole ass coffin."
"Where are you getting all this..."
"It may not be a matter of whether we should," Walter said solemnly. "The lid is almost seamless. We may be able to open it, but we will have to destroy it in the process."
Integra deliberated.
The reason she wanted to open it was simple, and complex: before it had become a pirate ship, the Pipistrelle had been a research vessel. And before she had become a pirate, Integra Hellsing had been the head of a royal institute for the study of the supernatural—of wizardry and deviltry in the Four Blues.
Of course, the world they resided was by its very nature supernatural. There existed islands in the sky, kingdoms in the sea, fruit that could give godlike powers and subsequent godlike beings. Yet there was logic, however flimsy, to these natural unnatural things. Her duty had been to delve into the unnatural unnatural—things that could not be explained even by the world's logic.
Somewhere in her studies, she had delved too far into a subject matter that must have been restricted by the World Government for a reason. She knew of entire islands that were wiped out for this mistake, and she probably was not supposed to know that information either.
But Integra Hellsing had never been the one to stay put in the face of opposition. And so, to protect her research and her home country, she took to the seas. Along the way she took her butler and two other people, and now she had a crew.
Pip was a mercenary from North Blue. They had hired him as additional manpower, but he was curious to see how far this would go. Seras was a bit harder to place. She had yet to divulge why she had volunteered to join, and her background was unclear. But she was sweet, she adored their little crew and she could wield a cannon five times her size.
"Should I give it a go?" Seras asked.
Integra sighed. "No. I'll examine it as it is for now. As you said, it's odd that it's unscathed."
"Maybe it's made of Seastone. It'd be stupidly expensive, but I've seen weirder stuff." Pip shrugged.
"But you would know, wouldn't you?" Integra raised an eyebrow.
Pip stepped up and nudged the coffin with his foot. He shook his head. "It's...not Seastone. And it's cold as fuck."
The crew fell silent again.
Walter bowed. "I shall bring refreshments while you conduct your examination, my lady. Miss Seras, tea?"
"Oh, yes, thank you!"
"Why don't you ever ask me, old man—"
The trio disappeared into the galley. Integra stood in silence, staring at the coffin.
"What a peculiar thing you are."
She stooped down, and placed a hand on it.
It was cold, as Pip had said. Ice-cold. Integra brushed away the layer of salt that had dried in the sun, and found the surface to be rather smooth. Under better conditions, it might be glossy enough so she could see her reflection. She wiped more of the salt and grime off until she discovered words etched in scribbly writing.
The Bird of Hermes is my name,
eating my wings to make me tame.
"Tame," Integra murmured, and it was then that everything took a sharp turn.
The sky darkened. Clouds were rolling in at an unnatural pace.
But this was the Grand Line, therefore this was the natural unnatural. The galley doors opened with a bang, and Walter skidded out. "A storm, my lady!"
Seras rushed to the helm. "Captain, I'll steer us out!"
Integra checked the Log Pose on her wrist. She tutted. This would set them off course. There was no other choice, however. "Everyone at your stations!"
The little crew of four did their best to keep their ship afloat. Some might call the number much too small to navigate the treacherous waters and unpredictable winds of the Grand Line. But in this world, while there were those who traversed it in a fleet, there were those who even traversed it alone. And no one could be sure of their outcomes.
An hour later, they were out of the storm's range. Rain was falling. Integra valiantly lit a cigar through it, as she sat exhausted, leaning her back against the coffin.
It had not moved an inch.
The crew of the Pipistrelle managed to get by with just four. Sometimes, though, she thought they could use a fifth member. Loyal and honorable men were hard to find, however, and there was no guarantee that the next island would have such men—that it would have people at all. And with the storm having thrown them off course, their recruitment plans seemed ever distant.
She really wished for that fifth crew member when thirty minutes later, a cannonball whizzed by their ship.
"Fuck, what now?"
"Enemy ship approaching! It's a galleon!"
"Why do bad things have to come all at once?" Pip slung his braid around his neck. "Captain, let me go and pick them off."
Another cannonball flew and this time crashed into the bulwark. Integra gritted her teeth. "Decimate them."
"Hell yeah. Mignonette!"
"Stop calling me that!" Seras complained, but hefted a large cannon over her shoulder. "Okay, ready!"
Feathers sprouted from Pip's arms.
"High time I stretch these bones," Pip said with a grin. His arms were turning into greyish brown wings. His neck was elongating, his feet becoming large and webbed. It was the power of the Devil Fruit he had eaten: Bird-Bird Fruit, model Wild Goose.
Seras hopped on Pip's back. "We won't be long, Captain Integra!"
"Don't die."
Seras waved, and Pip took flight. They soared above the enemy ship. At a certain height, she took aim. "Mind the recoil, Mr. Bernadotte!"
"Give them hell!"
Seras fired. Seconds later, there was an explosion.
Back on the Pipistrelle, Walter watched the plume of smoke through a telescope. The duo made a landing opposite of it and engaged in battle, Pip sweeping the goons out into the water with his wings and Seras bashing their skulls in with her cannon. "Ah, it seems I shall look forward to yet another round of repairs."
Integra was narrowing her eyes at the enemy ship's flag. "Why are there two?"
"Two?"
"Jolly Rogers." She whipped her head around. "Walter, the rear—"
A bullet struck Integra's shoulder. She stumbled to the floor.
"My lady!" Walter shouted.
"Hey, hey, the blonde bint has a pair of eyes on her!"
Integra, expression blank, pulled herself up with a reddening hand on the coffin behind her, and faced the intruders.
Two men, one sleek and polished, the other scruffy and pierced, were at the front of a group of ruffians. The one with the piercings pointed at Integra and cackled. "Luke, Luke, see that? The stupid bitch is trying to look cool!"
"Shut up, Jan."
Walter tightened his wires between his knuckles. "And you might you be?"
"We're the Valentine Brothers, of the Valentine Pirates!" yapped the one named Jan. "Got you fuckers real good, eh? We're the masters of diversion! We lure your dogs away with our big ship while we sneak in from behind and kill your captain!"
"Jan, they don't need to hear all that, they're going to die soon," said the one named Luke lazily.
"What a shitstain of a pirate crew. Is this all?" Jan spat on the floor. "This is no fun. I could've just gone on my own! Hey, hey, Luke, dibs on the bitch."
"You dare!" Walter looked toward Integra. "Captain, your orders."
Jan cackled louder. "You're the captain? No wonder this ship is fucked. Hey, hey, blondie, the Grand Line isn't your fucking dollhouse!"
Integra remained blank-faced, seated on the coffin. Heedless of her bleeding arm, she produced a cigar from her coat pocket, and extended it to Walter, who lit it for her. She took a drag.
"Hey, hey, are you deaf?"
She suddenly addressed Luke. "I don't like your hair."
Luke's eyes twitched imperceptibly. "Pardon?"
"It looks too similar to mine. I suggest cutting it off."
Jan spat again. "This bitch is crazy. I'll cut your head off first!" He rushed at Integra.
She took another drag of her cigar.
"Let me show you exactly why I am the captain of this ship," Integra said, and then her gaze sharpened.
Pressure.
It bore down as a physical force. An indescribable weight crashing over the air. Instantly, the group of intruders fell to their knees, eyes rolling, mouths frothing, and lay unconscious on the floor. The only one who had managed to keep upright was Luke, who was white as a sheet.
"C-Conqueror's Haki," he stammered.
Integra stood, chucking her cigar. She drew her sword. "Walter, you take that one." She nudged her chin toward Jan, who to his credit was stirring.
Luke recovered shakily. "You may wield Haki, but that doesn't change the fact you're weak and injured! You're no match for me!" He disappeared and reappeared next to Integra with a gun aimed at her temple.
Fast, Integra noted with an inward grimace, watching him approach, as if in slow motion, out the corner of her eye. She raised her sword to deflect, yet owing to the wound in her parrying arm, it was a second too late.
Behind her, there was a creak.
Out of nowhere, Luke screamed. Integra whipped around to see him kicking at something on the floor. More precisely, the tendrils of red and black winding around his legs. The tendrils pouring out of the open coffin.
Integra watched, with wide eyes, as a sigil painted red with her blood flashed upon the lid before it tipped to the side. The inside of the coffin appeared empty at a glance. But she soon realized the darkness was undulating, and it spilled over the rim and onto the deck, where it rose and shaped itself into the figure of a man.
The shadows peeled away, revealing a tall and gaunt man bound in leather. He had a head of colorless hair that long ago might have been ebony. A bloodless face. And blood-colored eyes. Boring into hers.
Then he knelt at her feet.
"My Master. Your orders?"
"I—" Integra stared. "Who are you?"
"I am your Servant, my Master," the man rasped. "Your orders?"
Luke was still screaming. The man tilted his head. "Shall I make him stop?"
After a moment, Integra nodded.
The screaming stopped.
There was nothing where the pirate Luke Valentine once was. A pair of jaws, like that of a hound, had emerged from the black-red spill and simply snapped him up. The dark figure licked his lips. His eyes remained on Integra.
"Who—" Integra caught herself. "What is your name?"
He did not blink. "Names are meaningless to me. But my previous masters called me...Alucard."
"Alucard," she repeated, and saw a manic sort of glee enter those strange red eyes. They finally moved from her face to her bleeding arm.
"Oh," he uttered, almost like a moan. "Such lovely blood. Such fragrant blood. So rich, so strong. I want it. Let me—"
"My lady!" Walter called in alarm, and Integra snapped to her senses. She took account of the bodies strewn on the deck, including Jan's wrapped in wire. There was also the distant racket of a ship being sunk. She breathed in.
"Let's...take care of all this, first."
Seras and Pip returned to a suspiciously clean deck, and an even more suspicious man in leather bondage kneeling in front of Integra.
Pip turned to Seras. "See? I knew this ship was batshit crazy."
"Well, our Jolly Roger is a bat."
"Yeah, and that's how I knew our boss was the craziest one, no matter how normal she looks."
"I can hear you, you know," Integra said dryly.
The man swiveled his red eyes onto them. "More of your crew?"
"Yes. Seras and Pip. Don't touch them."
"Yes, my Master."
Master? Pip mouthed at Seras.
"I ate the Rosy-Rosy Fruit," Alucard was explaining, "which has little to do with roses, and instead much to do with the roseal substance which flows in all that lives and breathes: blood."
"What does that mean?"
"I can control blood," Alucard said simply. "However, there are drawbacks. I require a diet of blood. And while I can gain control of others by consuming their blood, the nature of the ability renders mine unstable. Wherein I require the blood of one I deem worthy to be its master, to control me in turn."
"And so now I am your master? Because you had my blood?"
"Yes," he hissed with pleasure. "You are my Master. The only one who is worthy. At last. After centuries and centuries..."
Integra pursed her lips. There were many questions she should follow that up with. But she saw Seras and Pip gaping in horror in the background, and Walter looking near apoplectic, and merely said, "All right."
"All right?" Seras squeaked.
"Welcome to the crew."
"Welcome to the crew?" Pip squawked.
"We needed a fifth member, anyway." Integra began to walk off. "Go refresh yourselves. I'll be in my quarters. Don't bother me."
"Captain!" Seras, Pip, and Walter protested simultaneously, yet Integra waved behind her.
Pip threw his hands up. "Right. I need a drink."
"Miss Seras, I must remind you that the Harkonnen is not a melee weapon—"
"Sorry, Walter—"
Integra smiled.
Once she reached her door, she turned to Alucard, who had followed her. "That means you, too."
"Your arm is still bleeding. And I'm hungry."
"You had those men."
"They tasted like sewage, compared to yours, my Master."
Integra leaned against the door and, finally, let out a laugh. She did not see Alucard's eyes rounding in wonder at the sound.
"What a picky creature you are!"
"You have made me," Alucard said, more quietly than he had intended.
Integra scoffed. But she shrugged her coat off, and let it puddle on the floor. She loosened her cravat and unbuttoned her shirt, and was pleased when instead of leering at her cleavage, his monstrous eyes zeroed in on the wound in her arm.
A loyal and honorable man was hard to find.
She had not even needed to set foot on an island.
She dipped her own fingers into the wound, causing it to ooze afresh, and dangled her glistening fingers above his mouth. It opened. His teeth were razor-sharp.
Curiouser and curiouser.
"Let's see. I won't be such a merciful master. I might open you up. I might look you inside and out. I tore apart creatures like you before I ever became a pirate. Will you be tame, even then?"
"Yes," Alucard breathed out, and the air went ice-cold.
Integra laughed again, and opened her door.
"Come in," she ordered, beckoning with her rose-tipped hand, and she and her new subject disappeared together into the darkness.
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