Vergil did not bother with ceremony.
After hearing the patrol reports, understanding how many Valkyries were still missing, and realizing that Helheim would continue drowning its own routes if no one intervened immediately, he simply left the hall with Hela, Brynhildr, Göll, and the others following behind him. The group crossed the cold corridors of the palace and returned to one of the great bridges through which the flow of souls was normally guided. The sight was terrible: row after row of spirits had piled up in silence, like a dead river that had lost its bed. There were expressionless old warriors, children clinging to their mothers' hands, nameless kings, slaughtered monsters, and creatures whose shapes no longer resembled people at all. All of them waited for direction that never came. Helheim was not in complete collapse, but it was close enough to bother even someone like Vergil.
