The hidden fortress was quiet, too quiet.
Emma had spent the night fortifying entrances, checking weapons, and reviewing Syndicate intel. Every corner, every hallway, every vantage point had been prepared for battle.
She leaned against the wall, watching Liam clean and reload his pistols. The bandage on his shoulder was tight, but he still winced occasionally.
"Are you ready for what's coming?" Emma asked.
Liam's jaw tightened. "Victor won't let this go. He's going to hit us hard. I just hope we're ready."
Emma smirked grimly. "Ready? Honey, we were born ready. This isn't just defense—it's a warning. Nobody messes with the Hellsing family and survives."
---
••• The First Wave
It began quietly at first.
A low hum, almost imperceptible.
Emma stiffened. "Drones."
Red lights flickered on the fortress perimeter. Small, fast-moving drones zipped through the fog, scanning for heat signatures.
"Take cover," she hissed.
Liam ducked behind a reinforced wall while Emma climbed to a vantage point overlooking the entrance.
The drones began firing precision stun rounds to disable security systems and sensors. Emma rolled forward, slicing through the drones with her knives, sparks flying as metal and circuitry exploded.
"Too slow," she muttered, diving behind a wall as another round hit the metal floor inches from her.
---
••• Syndicate Ground Forces
Then came the soldiers.
Black-armored, masked, moving like shadows. Dozens of them, armed with silenced rifles, grenades, and drones overhead.
Liam took a deep breath. "So this is the part where we die?"
Emma's eyes narrowed. "No. This is the part where they learn not to underestimate us."
She leapt out, knives flying, each strike precise. A soldier lunged at Liam; Emma intercepted him midair, spinning the attacker into the concrete floor. Another grenade landed near them—Emma kicked it back, the explosion sending smoke and debris into the advancing forces.
Liam recovered, firing at enemies who got too close, his movements rough but effective.
---
••• Victor's Personal Strike Team
From the fog emerged Victor's elite team—five highly trained operatives known for their deadly efficiency.
Emma scanned them quickly. Her grin was cold. "The fun part begins."
The team advanced in a tight formation. Bullets and knives clashed in deadly rhythm. Emma danced between them, slicing, rolling, and striking with uncanny precision. One by one, the operatives fell, but they weren't going down without a fight.
Liam staggered but kept moving, defending Emma when one operative tried to flank her.
---
••• Victor's Message
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the fortress's intercom.
"Emma Hellsing… Liam Hellsing… you're persistent, I'll give you that. But persistence is worthless against power. Run, hide, beg… it won't matter. The Syndicate will take everything from you."
Emma's hands tightened around her knives. "Victor Kane… come yourself. Face me like a man, not through his little toys."
Liam looked at her, shocked. "Emma… you don't know what you're saying. He'll—"
"I don't care," she snapped. "I'll fight every single one of them if I have to."
---
••• The Turning Point
The fight raged for hours. Explosions rocked the fortress, gunfire echoed through the hallways, and drones swarmed like mechanical predators.
But Emma and Liam adapted. Every ambush was met with countermeasures. Traps they had set earlier disabled enemy squads.
Finally, the fog cleared, and the remaining Syndicate soldiers were in disarray.
Emma wiped blood from her face, breathing hard. Liam leaned against her shoulder, wounded but alive.
"Did we…" he asked, voice trembling, "actually win?"
Emma's silver-gray eyes burned with determination. "Not yet. Victor's still out there. But we showed him one thing: underestimate the Hellsing siblings, and you'll pay."
From the shadows, a faint silhouette moved—tall, imposing… Victor Kane, observing from a distance.
Emma's fists clenched. "The real war… starts now."