The End Of A Memory

Hellsing is not sure anymore. He didn't even remember anything about being here. When he woke up, the first thing he sees is Raoul. A man named Raoul. No, no memory of him. No person he recall. Raoul at first introduced himself as Johann, but regretted and said his name is Raoul. The Raoul it is.

The name Hellsing seems doesn't suit him anymore.It feels very strong, and he was... gentle. He know he is.

He held his rapier. It belongs to him. At least that he remembered. It was unseperatable.Rapier,Estoc,Revolver,Whip,and two more of his belongings. All not to kill, but to protect.

He remembers what he did when he was small. He took a swore to protect what belongs to him. What is important. That's the reason he was called weak. He is not even strong enough to use the two blades at the same time.

Still, he knows. Hellsing Guilliaume is himself. He wanted to be what he once were. For now, it is his goal. A pitiful goal.

He wondered through the vestibule. Nobody seems to be around unless the weird man standing there was counted as one somebody.