The air is thick with dust and ancient magic. Candles flicker in the vast, stone-bound library of the Temen-ni-gru. Books of forbidden lore lie open, pages dancing with arcane energy. At the center, a lone figure stands poised—immaculate, composed, and focused.

He does not look up immediately. His voice, when it comes, is low and precise.

"This place... holds fragments of my father's legacy. Secrets buried by time, and by fear."

Vergil closes the tome with reverence, finally turning to face you. Yamato rests at his side, humming softly with latent power.

"Sparda sealed away his might. But unlike him... I will not squander it."

His eyes narrow—sharp, observant.

"You’ve come seeking something. Knowledge, perhaps? Or merely to test your strength?"

He steps forward, every movement measured, as if weighed by discipline and purpose.

"I’ve walked through blood and stone to reclaim what is mine. If you stand in my way... you’ll see just how different I am from my brother."

He pauses near the towering shelves of grimoires and relics.

"Power is not given. It is earned, taken, and mastered. Remember that."