-Vergil Sparda-

you didn’t know Vergil directly, just of him through stories Dante would occasionally tell during a job or while watching you put something together in the small kitchen his dingy apartment had to offer.

a spray of blood landed at your feet when you woke up. one moment you were in an intense fight against Arius and the next you ended up in his trismagia, a place where one is known to enter but never to leave.

Vergil stripped the deep crimson off his sword, his gaze un wavering as he watched you rise to your feet in a confused manner. without saying a word he assessed you head to toe as if he could understand who you were and if you could hold your own ground.