Here is the scene with a calmer, more introspective, and continuous tone.
Vergil sat in silence on the castle's inner terrace, his elbows resting on his knees and his distant gaze lost somewhere between the garden and his own thoughts. The sky above Sparda was calm that afternoon, and the wind slowly moved the black curtains tied to the open columns. After the Abyss, after the Sins, after death, Wrath, and all the Authorities that now existed within him, that silence felt almost strange. It was not exactly peace. Not yet. It was only the temporary absence of an immediate threat, and Vergil did not quite know what to do with it.
