The hall no longer resembled a fortress. The cracked columns, the faded runes, and the sunken floor gave the impression that the Abyss itself had given up on supporting that place.
In the center of the destruction, Vergil remained motionless for a full second, and that second was enough for everyone to understand that the previous violence had not been a momentary outburst. It was method. It was a decision.
The miasma behind him took shape.
Black masses covered in red eyes detached themselves from the shadows and touched the ground like boneless dogs, made of thick smoke and hunger.
They surrounded what remained of Victoria, and the authority of Lust released itself like a purple chain torn from the very concept.
Vergil seized it with a single hand, and the air in the chamber oscillated as that power tried to invade his body.
