The presence in Vergil's body took a deep breath—or at least pretended to. The air around him rippled, as if the simple gesture had caused time itself to consider continuing to flow.
The little girl was still standing before him, paralyzed, but her eyes burned with a strange spark of indignation and duty. Her childlike appearance was a thin veil — something the being inside Vergil perceived with uncomfortable clarity. This was not a child. It was a function. A cosmic protocol. An automated punishment in the form of something that had once been human.
But even so... she was small.
The entity spoke in a voice that was not Vergil's—it was something older, more cavernous, full of layers of resonance that echoed inward, as if the sound were traveling back in time even before it was emitted.
"Infinite Scourge." The girl trembled slightly.
