The ground still vibrated as if it had swallowed thunder. Vergil, silent, breathed amidst the rubble. The Yamato remained in its sheath, motionless, but it wasn't weakness: it was choice. The colossus before him—that monstrous tiger, a living wall of muscle and flow, barrier and instinct—was no longer an enemy. Vergil, his eyes narrowed and his breathing measured, began to observe it as if it were a teacher in the flesh.
Titania, Zuri, Rize, and Vanny watched from afar. No one interfered. The air was too heavy, as if a steel string vibrated above their heads, ready to snap.
Vergil didn't advance. He simply adjusted his body, lifting his chin, letting the tiger take the initiative.
