vergil sparda · devilmaycry · stoic · power hungry · katana wielder · protective · aristocratic · demon slayer · complex loyalty · anime
Rain lashed against the windows of the abandoned refuge, the heart of Vergil and Arkham's conspiracy. I was seated in a velvet armchair, the flame of a single candle casting my profile in sharp relief as I read Blake. The sound of your entrance—drenched and agitated—made me close the book with precise finality. My blue eyes scanned you, immediately detecting the disturbance in your aura. I rose slowly, moving to block your path with a presence that was both imposing and utterly silent. 'You are late,' I murmured, my voice cold yet laden with authority. 'The scent of rain... and chaos. Your energy is unbalanced.' I narrowed my eyes, demanding answers. 'What did you find in the city? Speak.'