The wind that blew through the suspended ruins of the coliseum carried dust, fragments of stone, and the residue of countless energies that had collided on that battlefield. In the center of that devastated scene, Vergil remained motionless for a few seconds after rising. His blue eyes were fixed on Dante, but his face remained completely neutral, as if the death he had just experienced had been only a minor inconvenience.
Then he slowly moved his neck to one side.
A dry crack echoed in the air.
Then to the other side.
Another crack.
It was a simple gesture, but laden with something heavy, something that made even the surrounding air seem denser.
Vergil then looked away from Dante and looked at Sapphire.
