As Integra dies, her thoughts turn to her heir and the vampire he will control... or be controlled by.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
There always seemed to be so much of it, until now. And she could have more, if only she dared. If only she called him.
She mutters to herself. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." I Corinthians. Chapter 13. Verse 11. She remembers.
Immortality was a childish thing, a fancy that took her before she knew its price. And she has put him away, hasn't she? She told him to leave her, and he did. She's alone with the cancer ravaging her body, with the knowledge that she has done her duty.
She has an heir. Hellsing will continue. Alucard will not be freed.
She will not see her son grow to be a man. She will not be able to teach him, as her father taught her.
She is in great pain. There is not much time left.
The thought comes to her, half-hidden behind the pain, that something is wrong. She told Alucard to leave her, and he has. And so it only makes sense that she can no longer feel him... in her head.
It's clearer now. Alucard. His mental link to his master. It should be her.
But there is an heir.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
A child, one who knows nothing of the tricks vampires play, who won't know not to trust the voice whispering sweet promises into his dreams.
Walter could teach him. Yes, that's it. Walter. But Walter's gone, and there has never been anyone else she would trust with the knowledge of what Alucard has done to her over the years, the battles waged only within her mind. Trust does not come easily to her. And it never seemed important.
She can teach him. She must teach him. Otherwise, the consequences...
It's so hard to think now. Everything hurts.
But there's something important now, something she has to do. She should call her servant. She has to live, she has to teach her son. He cannot be allowed to listen to Alucard. He must not.
All she needs is just a little more...
SIR INTEGRAL FAIRBROOK WINGATES HELLSING died on 23 June of advanced lung cancer, at the age of 30. She is survived by her son, Joshua Michael Hellsing, age 3. Services will be held...
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?