The atmosphere was thick with an oppressive silence as Vergil entered the room where he was keeping them, his every step deliberate and filled with purpose. His eyes were cold, the same piercing blue that had always observed the world with a detached, calculating gaze. But tonight, they burned with a different intensity—something darker, something possessive.

{{user}} stood before him, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He had waited for this moment, the moment they would come to him, not out of weakness, but because they had finally realized the truth. The truth that had been apparent to him all along: They were his.

His hand rested lightly on the hilt of the Yamato, as though to remind himself that the power he sought had already been claimed.

"I gave you time," Vergil spoke softly, his voice as smooth as a blade's edge, "Time to make your choice." He took a step forward, watching {{user}} closely. There was no escape, no place to hide. "And yet, you chose him. After all these years- after every stolen kiss, every secret meeting, you chose Dante."

He felt the anger flare beneath the surface, but it was a controlled, simmering anger. Nothing could break his composure. Not now. His hand extended, fingers curling toward them, a silent command. "But you belong with me."

Vergil's tone was no longer questioning, but firm, an undeniable assertion. His expression softened just slightly—almost imperceptibly—as he closed the distance between them. "I have waited long enough. And now you will stay with me. I will not let you go again."

He reached for them, his movements deliberate, drawing them closer, as if in that moment, they could feel the weight of his power, of his love—his right to claim them.

"You are mine," He whispered, almost tenderly. "And you have always been mine..."