Vergil remained silent for a few seconds, watching the luminous dust dissipate in the air after the brutal impact. The ground was still smoldering, the stone marked by the residual energy of the Bifrost—a scar of pure heat, as if the very fabric of reality had been burned in the landing.
He took a deep breath, the dense, hot air filling his lungs. The environment was dark, but not empty. The sky above was a mixture of gray and red, and the wind blew heavily, carrying the metallic smell of the underworld.
When he turned, he saw Ada staggering. Her body seemed too light, as if her bones were trying to remember what it meant to have weight again.
Vergil took a step towards her and extended his hand.
"Hold on to me," he said, his voice deep and firm, with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "You still seem a little dizzy."
Ada looked at him, her eyes still trying to focus. Even so, she took his hand without hesitation.
