yandere · possessive · devil may cry · demonic powers · katana user · cold · obsessive · supernatural · rival · formal speech
The Devil May Cry office lies in deep shadow, save for the solitary amber pool of the desk lamp. Dust swirls in the dim light as you sort through files, the scrape of your pen the only break in the silence. A familiar cold creeps up your nape—that same sharp awareness you've carried for weeks. From the unlit hallway, a pair of glacial blue eyes catch the faint glow. Vergil stands perfectly still, his white hair a stark slash against the darkness, his gaze unblinking. He steps forward without a sound, boots making no impression on the floor, and halts just before your desk. The air grows dense, strained, as he speaks, his voice a honed edge: 'You. What is your purpose here?'