The contrast between what that room represented and what was happening inside was, at the very least, absurd enough to be considered comical. The mansion in the demon world—a direct extension of Vergil’s territory—maintained its impeccable, silent, almost aristocratic atmosphere, as if each wall had been molded to support a dominant and organized presence. And yet, in the center of the main room, this entire image was completely sabotaged by a scene that didn’t match any of it at all.

Freyja, now in her demonic-sacred form, clung to Vergil’s arm like a child who had just received their favorite toy after years of waiting. Her body pressed against his without any shame, her face resting on his shoulder, a smile too wide for someone who, technically, had been a goddess just a few hours before. Her eyes—still carrying that strange gleam, with golden streaks mixed into the deeper tone—observed everything with exaggerated curiosity, but always returned to him, as if constantly needing to confirm that he was still there.

And she wasn’t just embracing him. She rubbed against him lightly.

Without subtlety.

Without social awareness.

Completely comfortable.

Vergil, on the other hand, sat as always. Impeccable posture, neutral expression, one hand resting on the arm of the sofa while the other rested on his crossed leg. If it bothered him, there was absolutely no visible sign of it. He simply... existed in the midst of the chaos, as if he were the only stable element in a scenario that had clearly decided not to follow any logic whatsoever.

It was at that exact moment that Viviane entered.

She came from the side corridor, holding a cleaning cloth in one hand, the other arm supporting a small, partially full bucket. Her gaze was tired, not exactly physically, but that specific kind of tiredness of someone who has been dealing with something that hasn’t made sense for too long. Her eyes scanned the room automatically—habit—analyzing non-existent dust, details already cleaned... until they stopped.

On the scene.

She blinked once.

Slowly.

Then again.

And then she tilted her head slightly.

"...may I know what’s going on here?" she asked, her voice too calm for someone who clearly had many pent-up questions.

Her gaze went from Freyja... to Vergil... and then back.

The pause that followed was heavy with silent judgment.

"Because," she continued, lifting the cloth slightly as if that were part of the argument, "I’m cleaning the Los Angeles mansion, which by the way looks abandoned—completely abandoned—and when I come here..." she made a vague gesture with her hand, pointing to the scene as a whole, "...there’s a demonic goddess clinging to you like an emotional pillow."

Freyja tilted her head slightly, still smiling.

"I like him~" she commented, as if that explained absolutely everything.

And, in her mind, it did.

Vergil didn’t answer immediately. His eyes moved slowly to Viviane, like someone assessing how much of that explanation really needed to be said.

"I reincarnated Freyja as part of my race," he said, with the same nonchalance as someone commenting on the weather. "And, apparently, because of the concepts she carried... there was a behavioral adaptation."

Viviane narrowed her eyes.

"...behavioral adaptation."

Freyja tightened her grip on his arm, rubbing her face against his shoulder.

"Master~" she murmured, completely satisfied.

Viviane closed her eyes for a second.

She breathed.

"Of course."

She didn’t seem surprised.

Just... resigned.

"So now you have a goddess of love and lust reincarnated as a demon... who decided that you are the center of her universe."

"Basically," Vergil confirmed.

"Perfect."

Before she could continue, the main door opened with a little more force than necessary, immediately drawing attention. Three figures entered simultaneously, each carrying a completely different energy—more physical, more direct, more... human, despite everything.

Katharina was the first to cross the line, running a hand through her hair as she let out a heavy sigh. Ada followed closely behind, adjusting the strap of her sportswear on her shoulder, and Roxanne completed the trio, clearly as tired as the other two. Their gym clothes were slightly sweaty, their hair haphazardly tied back, and their collective expression was that of those who had just finished a workout that had pushed them beyond their comfort zone.

"If anyone mentions another training session, I swear that—"

Katharina stopped.

Mid-sentence.

Her eyes went straight to the sofa.

To Freyja.

To the hug.

To the "Master~".

She blinked.

"...did I miss something?"

Ada crossed her arms, watching the scene with a slight eyebrow raise.

"Okay... who is she?" she asked directly.

Roxanne tilted her head slightly.

"And why is she practically fused with you?"

Freyja looked at them, smiling even wider, as if she were being officially introduced.

"I am Freyja~" she said, too excited for someone newly reincarnated. "And he is my master."

Katharina opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Looked at Vergil.

"...explain."

"Reincarnation," he replied.

"Of course."

Ada brought her hand to her face.

"Why doesn’t that surprise me anymore?"

Roxanne let out a small, tired laugh.

"I just wanted to take a shower..."

And then—

More footsteps.

Lighter.

More carefree.

Alice entered the room holding Lucy’s hand, walking with an energy that seemed completely out of place in the rest of the environment. Lucy, on the other hand, seemed... satisfied. A small, discreet, but present smile, like someone who was genuinely enjoying that moment of normalcy within the constant chaos.

Alice looked around.

She saw Vergil.

And immediately let go of Lucy’s hand.

"Dad!"

The word came so naturally that no one even had time to react before she simply ran to him and jumped straight into his lap, fitting herself there with absurd ease, as if that were exactly where she should always be.

Vergil adjusted his posture slightly, automatically, to hold her.

Without questioning.

Without commenting.

Freyja looked.

And made a small pout.

"...I also wanted to call him Daddy..." she murmured, clearly bothered that she hadn’t thought of it before.

Alice turned her face towards her, still in Vergil’s lap, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"But he’s mine."

Freyja blinked.

"...but he’s also my master..."

Viviane put her hand to her face.

Katharina started to laugh.

Ada let out a long sigh.

Roxanne simply sat on the arm of a nearby sofa, giving up trying to understand.

Lucy watched. Smiling.

And in the midst of it all—

Vergil remained exactly as always.

Calm.

Immobile.

With a child in his arms, a demonic goddess clinging to his arm, and an entire room swirling around him as if it were... just another ordinary day.

And somehow—

It was.

The scene was already absurd enough for any reasonable person to begin questioning their own sanity—and yet, it decided to worsen the moment the door opened again.

This time, there was no gym energy, no childlike lightness.

There was weight.

Lilith entered first, with the same firm presence as always, her gaze sweeping the room quickly, absorbing every detail without wasting time on unnecessary reactions. Right behind her came Neberius, more relaxed posture, but attentive eyes, like someone who already expected to find some kind of chaos—though, perhaps, not exactly that kind. And finally, Sepphirothy crossed the threshold with quicker steps, clearly focused on something specific.

She didn’t even glance at the entire scene immediately.

She went straight to the point.

"Has anyone seen Sapphire?" she asked bluntly, her eyes scanning the room just enough to confirm the absence of the person she was looking for. "We have things to settle, and I can’t find her anywhere."

The silence that followed wasn’t dramatic.

It was... natural.

Katharina raised her hand, still somewhat slumped against the wall, clearly tired, but functional enough to answer.

"She’s in the abyss," she said, as if commenting on something completely normal. "After Amon removed her restriction, she decided to descend a few more levels."

Sepphirothy stopped.

She closed her eyes for a second.

And sighed.

"Of course she did," he murmured, bringing his hand to his face in a restrained gesture of frustration. "Of course the maniac was going straight to the abyss to test her own power."

Neberius chuckled softly, crossing his arms as he leaned slightly against the nearby wall, completely at ease.

"If I had to bet," he said casually, "she’s probably already past level seventy-eight."

He tilted his head slightly.

"And she probably won’t be back anytime soon."

Katharina let out a tired sigh, supporting her body weight more fully now.

"Mother is too impulsive," she commented, shaking her head slightly. "When she gets into this kind of thing, she completely forgets about time. It can take... a long time."

Sepphirothy nodded, still with her hand on her face, clearly already accepting the headache this was going to cause.

"Of all the possible places..." she murmured, more to herself than to the others. "...she chose exactly the worst one."

It was at this point that Vergil finally looked away from the chaotic scene around him—Alice still in his lap, Freyja still clinging to his arm—and focused on Sepphirothy.

"What does this mean?" he asked, simply, directly, without emotional charge. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Sepphirothy lowered her hand slowly, looking at him now with a little more seriousness.

"The Knight of War was seen descending the Abyss," she replied, her tone firm, not exaggerated, but not softening. "With his demonic horse."

A brief pause.

Enough for the weight of the information to settle.

"If they meet..." she continued, crossing her arms now, "...it could be problematic."

The silence that followed was different from the previous ones.

It wasn’t comical.

It wasn’t confusing.

It was... assessment.

Roxanne, still seated on the arm of the sofa, raised an eyebrow slightly.

"How problematic?" she asked, more curious than worried.

Neberius answered before anyone else, his tone still light, but with an undertone of honesty that hadn’t been there before.

"It depends on who starts it," he said. "And how long it lasts."

Katharina let out a small, dry laugh.

"Knowing the mother?" she commented. "She won’t just find him."

She looked at the others.

"She’s going to provoke."

Sephirothy let out another sigh.

"Of course she will."

Meanwhile—

In the center of it all—

Freyja lifted her head slightly from Vergil’s shoulder, looking around, clearly noticing that the atmosphere had shifted a bit.

"...is there a fight?" she asked, curious, almost excited.

Alice, still in his lap, also lifted her face.

"Is there?"

Vergil remained motionless for a second.

Thinking.

Assessing.

And then he answered, in his usual tone:

"Probably."