Beyond the Old Ones

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely a fanfic for enjoyment.

Cross-over from various games, books, anime, manga, and movies.

The familiar characters you see here belong to their respected authors and owners.

"Speech"

Time*

Chapter 15: Ripple Effects

30 minutes later*

As I drive us to our next destination. Glancing briefly at Alucard sitting beside me, I break the silence. "A thought just came to me." Keeping my eyes on the road. "Do you use guns to fight, or do you have something else up your sleeve?"

"If I'm bored." Alucard begins, her tone almost dismissive. "I would use guns. Otherwise, I just tear people's heads off and rip their hearts out. With or without using my hands."

I wasn't expecting that response, but then again, I really shouldn't be applying my knowledge of the canon Alucard to this parallel version. Of course, I could get all the answers I want later through the Sefirah Castle—once my Sequence is high enough to delve deeper into the past, present, and future. With that kind of power, understanding her entirely will just be a matter of time.

"By the way." Alucard gestures toward an expensive car ahead of us. "Since you're not in a hurry anymore, are you interested in following that car over there?"

I glance at the vehicle she's pointing at, its glossy exterior and luxurious design standing out even amidst the traffic.

"Why...?" I ask Alucard, keeping my tone casual but curious. "Not saying yes or no. I just want to know why first."

I glance at her briefly, wondering what motive lies behind her suggestion, especially since she rarely does anything without a reason since I know her, which isn't even that long.

"Because I smell blood coming from that car." Alucard's voice is chillingly indifferent as if she's merely stating a fact. "So, if you wish to check out why that's the case, you could do so." She pauses for a moment as if weighing her next words before continuing, "Furthermore, if I hear it correctly, it's the sound of someone beating up a child."

I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Oh, wait," Alucard's tone shifts suddenly. "Yeah, I hear a kid's painful grunt. And an adult male mocking the child after throwing a punch."

I feel her gaze on me, and I can't help but glance over briefly. Alucard smirks as she continues, "I even caught the kid's name—Ciel Phantomhive. The last name sounds rather fancy, doesn't it? Could be important enough to be kidnapped, rather than just some unlucky soul caught in human trafficking."

"Alright, time to follow them." I mutter, sighing deeply. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I ease off the gas, falling into step behind the expensive car.

Alucard's smirk lingers in the corner of my eye as though she's already expecting the outcome.

I haven't even met the kid yet, and he's already in trouble. Forget Sebastian for the time being; from what I recall, he takes a twisted thrill in seeing Ciel's life in danger. Either way, saving Ciel would make things easier for me, especially since I'm working for him temporarily. Although... there's the matter of Alucard meeting Sebastian later. That's going to be an interesting situation—if they haven't already crossed paths without me knowing.

As I tail the car, the thought lingers in my mind: two beings like them meeting could lead to all sorts of problems one way or another.

A few hours later*

"Do you want me to go out there and handle those men, or are you in the mood to be a killer again?" Alucard asks, her tone dripping with casual indifference as she leans back in her seat, sipping from a wine glass she somehow acquired without me noticing.

"I got this." I reply confidently, finishing the task of slipping on the gloves that once belonged to Walter. It's a relief to finally find a pair that fits just right after so many failed attempts. For a while, it felt like every glove I tried was either too tight, too loose, or just plain uncomfortable.

The material feels perfect against my skin now, snug but flexible—an ideal fit for what's about to happen. A small sense of satisfaction washed over me as I flexed my fingers inside the gloves.

"Would you mind watching the car for me while I deal with these guys?" I asked Alucard as I stepped out, adjusting my gloves one last time.

Alucard gives me a sidelong glance, swirling the remaining liquid in her glass. Her smirk deepens as she leans back in her seat, making no effort to hide her disinterest in the task. "I suppose." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Though I can't promise I won't get bored and join in if things get... dull."

"Right..." I mutter, closing the door behind me with a quiet click. As I walk away, I can feel Alucard's gaze lingering on me, her amusement noticeable even in her silence.

I approach the entrance to a shady motel, the kind of place that makes most people think twice before stepping inside—the neon sign flickers ominously, casting a dull red glow over the grimy exterior. The air around the building feels heavy, almost suffocating, as if it's soaked in dark secrets and bad decisions.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door, ready to face whatever awaits inside.

In an instant, I switch to the Card of Twilight Giant, feeling an immediate surge of power coursing through me. The world around me seems to shift, becoming both sharper and slower, as if time itself bends to my newfound strength.

The gloves—Walter's gloves—are no longer just a tool in my hands. As the power of the Twilight Giant floods my senses, I gain an innate, almost instinctive mastery over the wires hidden within them, far beyond what any human could achieve, even better than Walter before he turned himself into an artificial vampire. The wires respond to my thoughts effortlessly, extending, retracting, and weaving with a fluidity and precision that surpasses anything a mortal could ever dream of.

I move my fingers slightly, and the wires hum to life, slicing through the air silently, ready to act at a moment's notice. The weight of their lethality is both thrilling and terrifying.

However, I remind myself that using these wires for killing would leave a trail—a trail that could easily lead back to Hellsing and Integra herself. The last thing I need is to have her breathing down my neck, especially given how I just stole right under her nose and no doubt still piss at losing Alucard, twice. No, it's best to use these wires in ways that are completely opposite of their intended purpose: for support rather than death.

Multiple wires spread throughout the dark, narrow corridors of the shady motel, weaving silently through doorways, across ceilings, and along the floors. Nearly invisible to the naked eye, they are so thin that even those with heightened senses would struggle to detect them.

I close my eyes briefly, focusing my senses through the delicate network I've laid out. The wires now act as highly sensitive sensors, picking up the smallest sound vibrations from every corner of the motel. Footsteps echo faintly through them, muted conversations drift in like whispers on the wind, and I can even sense the shift of fabric as someone moves.

I sharpen my focus, filtering out irrelevant noise and honing in on the sounds I need—any sign of violence, threats, or the presence of Ciel. I map out the environment through the wires, turning the chaotic building into a clear, organized space where every sound becomes a pinpoint on my mental radar.

I raise an eyebrow as the tangled web of conversations flows through the wires, creating harsh overlapping voices. Most would find it overwhelming, nearly impossible, to filter through the noise to pick out anything useful. Different people, different rooms, different topics—all speaking at once, their words mixing into a chaotic murmur.

But for me, in my current state, it's effortless.

With a subtle shift of focus, I begin isolating each conversation, separating the irrelevant chatter from what I actually need to hear. The arguments, whispered exchanges and idle talk fade into the background as I zero in on anything of interest. Piece by piece, the noise is filtered away until the real target—the situation involving Ciel—stands out clearly against the racket.

All the while, I remain a silent observer—either hidden in the shadows or, more mundanely, standing alone at the deserted front desk. Not a soul in sight, not even a receptionist to greet or question me. The front entrance remains wide open, as if the building itself had been abandoned, and the doors haven't even been locked.

It's almost too convenient, but I don't dwell on that thought for long. With the wires already spread throughout the motel and my senses heightened, it doesn't matter whether I'm surrounded by people or utterly alone. The motel, with all its dark corners and shady secrets, is an open book to me now. Every sound, every movement is mine to decipher.

And soon enough, I'll find exactly what I came here for.

Carefully, I make my way through the dimly lit halls, moving silently toward the room where Ciel is being held captive. The wires continue to feed me information, guiding my steps as I avoid any unwanted attention. The creaking floors, the occasional flicker of the overhead lights—all of it fades into the background as I focus entirely on my main task.

I can sense the subtle movements inside the room up ahead—two distinct heartbeats, one calm, the other more erratic. Ciel is there, temporarily restricted, likely waiting to be moved later in the evening. I quicken my pace slightly, knowing I need to act before they make their next move.

Stopping just outside the door, I listen closely to the muffled conversation beyond, calculating my next steps. If I play this right, I can get Ciel out without causing a scene—or at least without leaving a trace that can be tied back to me.

Actually, despite my best efforts to avoid leaving any trace of my involvement, I realize that Ciel himself may do the opposite once I rescue him. Sending him back to the Phantomhive mansion could complicate things—he's not the type to remain silent about events like this. If anything, he may use the opportunity to his advantage, especially given his calculating nature.

The more I think about it, the more I understand that Ciel will likely turn this situation into some kind of leverage or, at the very least, mention my role in his escape. While I can control the outcome of this rescue, I can't control how he'll spin the narrative once he's safe.

Even knowing that I can't just leave him here. I'll have to be ready for whatever ripple effect comes after.

Of course, I could ask Alucard for assistance, but based on what I know of her, that's a risk I'm not willing to take. It's almost certain that anything she does—or suggests—will come back to bite me in the butt. No, relying on her would be a dangerous gamble, and her idea of "help" tends to skew toward chaos for the sake of her amusement.

No, it's best I handle this on my own. I'd rather not tempt fate by waiting for her to grow bored and intervene just for a momentary thrill. The less involved she is, the better my chances of keeping this rescue clean and manageable.

Now, I just need to make this quick and stealthy.