Vergil remained motionless for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on the small figure before him, but something inside him… had changed. It wasn't immediate, nor explosive like everything that had happened until then, but it arose silently, almost timidly, like a sensation that didn't ask permission to exist. His chest, still carrying the remnants of the absurd density of energy he had manipulated moments before, now felt… light. Warm. And that, in itself, was strange enough to make him frown slightly.
He didn't understand.
It wasn't a logical reaction.
It wasn't analysis.
It was… familiarity.
