The name echoed in that space like something that shouldn’t exist, like a word too ancient to be uttered in a world as silent as that one. "Ophis." There was no sonic impact, no reverberation... but still, the environment itself seemed to react to that simple introduction, as if recognizing something primordial.

Vergil didn’t respond immediately.

His eyes remained fixed on her, now with a completely different kind of attention than before. This was no longer just a strange presence. It was no longer a curious anomaly. There was weight in that name.

There was history.

And there was... danger.

"Ophis..." he repeated slowly, as if testing the sound in his own mind, trying to fit that existence into everything he had learned throughout his life.

It was... something beyond those classifications.

His eyes then moved again, turning to the colossal creature emerging from the dimensional rift. The space around her wasn’t just being distorted... it was being rejected. As if that world wasn’t capable of containing her completely.

The dragon kept emerging.

Scales as red as ancient blood gleamed under the nonexistent light of that void, each reflecting distorted shades of space itself. Its eyes were vast, deep, carrying an overwhelming awareness that seemed to observe not only the present... but everything around it.

"Great Red..." he murmured, almost to himself, remembering Ophis’s words, slowly connecting the pieces. His gaze narrowed. "So this is the kind of existence you consider an enemy."

Ophis didn’t answer immediately.

Her eyes, once completely apathetic, were now fixed on the dragon with a subtle but extremely dense intensity. There was no explosive hatred, no uncontrolled fury... just a silent pressure.

But this pressure...

It was more terrifying than any war cry.

"He stole from me," she said simply.

"Stole what?" Vergil asked, without taking his eyes off the colossal creature that still fully manifested in that space.

"My silence... the silence of my home..."

His eyes moved slightly, turning to Ophis for a brief second, analyzing that small, seemingly fragile figure, completely out of place in that reality... and yet, facing something of that magnitude.

"So you want to kill him for this?" he asked, his voice now lower, more serious.

Ophis tilted his head slightly. "Yes."

Vergil let out a small sigh through his nose.

"To the point... I respect that." He then stood up slowly.

His body still felt strange, too light, as if not completely grounded in that reality. But still, he stood, standing beside Ophis, his eyes fixed on the dragon.

"Interesting..." he murmured. "Even dead... I still find things that make sense."

Ophis looked at him for a brief moment. "You’re not dead."

Vergil frowned slightly. "...No?"

"You’re in the dimensional rift... that place is where nothingness exists, where infinity and dreams intersect. You’re not dead." Ophis finished.

Vergil remained silent for a few moments after hearing those words, not for lack of response, but because his mind was already working on its own, connecting possibilities, reconstructing events, analyzing every detail that had led him there. His eyes shifted from Ophis and rose again to that nonexistent sky, where impossible colors continued to move as if they were loose thoughts from some higher consciousness.

"The dimensional rift..." he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost distant, as if he were speaking more to his own logic than to anything else. "The ’in-between’... a point of intersection... a space that belongs nowhere."

He slowly placed his hand on his chest.

There was no pain.

There was no injury.

But he remembered.

He remembered the blow.

The impact.

That final moment when everything simply... stopped.

His fingers closed slightly.

"So... how did I end up here?"

The question came out more as a verbalized thought than a direct question. He didn’t look at Ophis when he said it. He didn’t seem to expect an answer.

And yet... she answered.

"Probably... you didn’t come."

Vergil frowned slightly, turning his face just enough to look at her sideways.

"...Explain."

Ophis continued to stare into the void above them, as if observing something far beyond what the eyes could perceive.

"Only your mind is here."

The answer came simply.

Directly.

Without any attempt to soften the concept.

"Your body..." she paused briefly, as if searching for the right word, or perhaps as if the word itself didn’t matter, "...must be sealed somewhere."

Vergil fell silent.

This time, a deeper silence.

Heavier.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he absorbed the information, turning the implications within his mind like pieces of a complex puzzle.

"Sealed..." he repeated, once more to himself.

It made sense.

In an uncomfortable way... but it did.

He didn’t feel the total disconnection of death.

There wasn’t that absolute void.

There wasn’t the end.

There was... continuity.

Fragmented.

But still, continuity.

"So I didn’t die..." he concluded slowly.

Ophis tilted her head slightly.

"You died."

Vergil stared directly at her now.

"Make up your mind."

She blinked once.

"Your body died."

A brief pause.

"Your consciousness didn’t."

Silence returned.

But this time... it wasn’t confusion.

It was gradual understanding.

Vergil brought his hand to his face, partially covering his eyes as he let out a small sigh, almost like a stifled laugh.

"Hah..." the sound escaped softly. "What an inconvenient state."

He lowered his hand again, his eyes now more focused, clearer.

"So this is... what? A holding point? A space between destruction and... whatever comes after?"

Ophis didn’t answer immediately.

She only slightly raised her gaze, staring at that "sky" that wasn’t a sky.

"The Dimensional Gap..."

Her voice came out low.

But there was something different about her now.

Something almost... descriptive.

"It’s not a place."

Vergil frowned again.

"No?"

"It’s an in-between."

She continued.

"It doesn’t belong to any world... but it connects them all."

Her eyes remained fixed on the infinite as she spoke, as if describing something that didn’t need to be seen, only understood.

"Everything passes through here."

A pause.

"Dreams... thoughts... fragments... broken realities... dimensions that never touched... and those that already collided."

Vergil listened in silence.

Attentive.

Absorbing every word.

"It’s what exists..." she finished, "...between worlds."

The nonexistent wind seemed to move for an instant.

Or perhaps it was just Vergil’s perception adjusting to that new understanding.

His eyes returned to the colossal dragon in the distance, still present, still overwhelming, still... real.

"So this..." he began, his voice lower now, "...isn’t an illusion."

"No."

"Nor a dream."

"No."

"Nor the afterlife."

"No."

Vergil exhaled slowly.

"So I’m stuck... at a point where everything exists... but nothing truly belongs."

Ophis didn’t answer this time.

But her silence... was confirmation enough.

Vergil closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Organizing. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Evaluating.

Accepting.

And then... he opened them again.

"Hm."

A small smile appeared on his face.

It wasn’t one of relief.

Nor of happiness.

It was... interest.

"So there’s still a variable."

He looked at Ophis again.

"If my mind is here... and my body is ’sealed’... that means there’s a connection."

Ophis turned her face slightly towards him.

"Yes."

"And connections..." Vergil continued, his voice gaining a slight strategic weight, "...can be manipulated."

Ophis watched him silently.

For a few seconds.

"Perhaps."

Vergil chuckled softly through his nose.

"’Perhaps’ is enough."

His eyes then returned to the Great Red.

That colossal presence.

That absurd existence.

That... problem.

"And meanwhile..." he murmured, "...I’m stuck here... with you... and with that thing."

Ophis followed his gaze.

His eyes returned to the dragon.

"Yes."

Vergil crossed his arms slowly.

"Interesting."

A short pause.

"So this isn’t just an accident... it’s an intersection."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"And if I’m here... at the moment you’re here... and he’s here too..."

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

Ophis understood.

"It’s not a coincidence."

She said.

Simply.

Vergil smiled slightly.

"I figured."

Silence fell again.

But this time...

It wasn’t emptiness.

It was... preparation.

Because now, Vergil understood.

This wasn’t the end.

Nor a rest.

Nor a mistake.

It was... a point.

A crossroads.

Where something bigger was about to happen.

And, for the first time since his "death"...

He wasn’t just reacting.

He was thinking about the next move.

The silence of the Lacuna didn’t last forever.

Because, while consciousnesses met at that impossible point between worlds... reality, elsewhere, continued to move.

And in the coliseum...

It had exploded.

The air trembled.

Not as a result of physical impact... but as if existence itself were being compressed, distorted, forced to accept something that simply shouldn’t exist. The cracks in the ground were no longer just structural damage—they were scars, black lines spreading like veins, pulsing with an unstable and violent energy.

The sky above... was no longer a sky.

It was a tear.

An open abyss, where light and darkness mixed unnaturally, slowly spinning like a vortex trying to swallow everything around it.

And at the center of it all...

He was.

Dante.

But... not as before.

His body wasn’t just stronger.

It was... different.

His presence overwhelmed the environment in a completely different way than before. It wasn’t just demonic power, nor just divine energy... it was something hybrid, unstable, dangerous—like two opposing forces coexisting without canceling each other out.

His hair, once completely white, was now divided. Half remained pure white, almost ethereal... while the other half was as black as the deepest void, creating a contrast that seemed to reflect exactly what he had become.

His eyes...

One red.

The other black.

Both carrying something that was no longer human.

Nor demonic.

Nor divine.

It was... beyond.

And then... his wings opened.

Six.

Four of them white, wide, luminous, emanating an energy reminiscent of something celestial, almost sacred.

And two black.

Dense.

Heavy.

As if carrying the very weight of destruction.

When they fully expanded... the impact was immediate. The air around them simply gave way.

An invisible wave swept through the entire coliseum, destroying what little remained of its intact structure, raising dust, fragments, energy... everything being pushed away from it.

Silence.

For a single second.

And then...

Lilith spoke.

She stood a few meters away, her eyes fixed on that new form, her expression... not one of anger.

Nor of surprise.

It was... understanding.

Cold.

Direct.

"We’re screwed."