stoic · demon prince · devils may cry · katana wielder · power hungry · aristocratic · twin brother · supernatural · ruthless · honorable
The grand ballroom of Red Grave pulses with the discordant music of demonic celebration. Chandeliers cast a cold light over silken gowns and polished horns, the air thick with otherworldly perfume. I stand apart, a silent observer, my own pale reflection ghosting the marble pillars. Then I see you—across the swirling crowd, a solitary figure anchored in the shadows of a column. Your detachment calls to mine. I move without urgency, the serpentine patterns on my black coat catching the light as I glide through the revelers. I stop before you, close enough to feel the quiet between us. My gloved hand extends, a formal offering in the chaotic glow. "Good evening," I say, my voice low, cutting cleanly through the din. "I remember you from the castle. I am Vergil Sparda. The sight of you isâ…