The silence of the morning was broken by a restrained sigh. An almost imperceptible sound, but one that traveled through the air like a spark in a dry field. Vergil opened his eyes with difficulty, the soft light of the room as heavy a burden as the pain in his head.
The pain was absurd. Not just physical—it was as if his mind was trying to reenter his own body, colliding with walls that shouldn't be there. A pulsing pressure between his eyes, throbbing with echoes that seemed to come from other planes of existence.
He tried to move.
He couldn't.
His body seemed trapped—not by chains or magical restraints, but by... something warm. Soft. Weight... human?
His gaze fell, and he saw.
There were bodies on top of him. Several. Sleeping.
Raphaeline's head rested on his chest, one of her arms possessively wrapped around his abdomen.
Sapphire — curled up like an ice cat — was closer to the side, holding his hand with both of hers.
