Before either of them could take the first step, time... stopped.
Not literally... the air still vibrated, the dust still fell, the golden glow still pulsed like a second sun inside the prison, but for Sepphirothy and Sapphire, the world seemed to suspend its own logic. A new presence dominated the space. Overwhelming. Impossible to ignore.
Something had crossed the light.
And then, between the two, it appeared.
Without sound. Without warning.
Vergil.
Or... that which used his body as a throne.
The chains had already disappeared. His skin radiated golden and divine fragments, as if it were being forged with each second. His hair floated slightly, taken by silver reflections. His eyes? They were no longer the eyes of the man they both knew—they were globes of absolute white, crossed by golden slits that danced like living runes.
There was no demonic aura. Nor sacred. It was a mixture of both. Like looking into the abyss and feeling... like the abyss was looking back.
