The environment had changed without anyone having touched anything.

It wasn’t a visible transformation, no cracks in the walls or grotesque distortions in the surrounding space, but still... something was different. The very atmosphere of the room seemed denser, as if the air had gained weight, as if each particle were being compressed by a presence that didn’t need to expand to be felt. It was a kind of silent, constant pressure that didn’t crush—but made it clear that it could.

And at the center of it—

Vergil remained standing.

Momentary.

His eyes were lowered, fixed on his own right hand, which remained open in front of his body, his fingers slightly flexed as if he were testing something he hadn’t yet decided to name. There was no hurry in his movements, nor any trace of external unease, but this wasn’t ordinary calm—it was analysis. Deep. Precise. Almost surgical.

Because what was happening to him...

Wasn’t simple.

Before, his existence was already an anomaly.

Unlike virtually any other entity, Vergil never operated under the standard model of separation between body and soul. For most beings, these two structures coexisted, but functioned distinctly—the body as a vessel, the soul as an energetic core, requiring constant flow, conversion, and transfer. Energy was generated, stored, manipulated, and sent between these two points.

But he—

Never had this division.

His body and soul were always the same thing.

A single structure.

A single system.

Without barriers.

Without the need for conversion.

Without loss.

This meant that his energy generation did not follow conventional rules. There was no process of "production" and "sending." He simply... existed as a source. Energy flowed from him as a natural consequence of existence itself, not as something that needed to be activated.

And that, in itself, already placed him completely outside the norm.

But now—

Now that had changed.

Vergil slowly closed his hand, his fingers contracting with precision as a slight oscillation swept through the surrounding space, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the air vibrate for a brief instant. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in discomfort, but in recognition.

Because the flow...

Was no longer the same.

Before, its energy was purely demonic.

Dense.

Negative.

Absolute in its nature.

But now—

There was something else there.

Another layer.

Another kind of generation.

His heart beat once.

Strongly.

And he felt it.

Clearly.

Two distinct currents arising at the same time.

Not alternating.

Not separate.

Simultaneous.

Demonic energy... and divine energy.

Negative... and positive.

Created together.

At the same instant.

At the same point.

No conflict.

No rejection.

No need for forced balance.

This made no sense within any known structural logic.

And yet—

It was happening.

"You noticed."

Lilith’s voice came from behind, calm, but laden with something deeper than simple observation. She didn’t seem surprised. Not exactly. But there was attention there. Real interest.

Vergil didn’t turn around.

"My heart," he said, his voice low, controlled, like someone describing a mechanism still being mentally disassembled, "isn’t just generating energy."

A brief pause.

"It’s... creating two poles at the same time."

Sephirothy, who was leaning against one side of the room, slowly uncrossed her arms, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that didn’t hide the complexity of what was being analyzed.

"They aren’t two poles," she corrected, her voice firm, but not aggressive. "It’s a simultaneous dual system."

Vergil finally turned his face slightly, not completely, just enough to indicate that he was listening.

Lilith took a few steps forward, stopping at a safe distance—not out of fear, but out of respect for what was being released there, even if in a restrained way.

"What you have become," she began, choosing her words carefully, "no longer follows any standard structure of energetic existence."

Her eyes scanned his body quickly, not in superficial assessment, but in reading.

"Before, you were already a functional anomaly. Body and soul integrated, direct generation, without losses... that alone broke half the rules that sustain the energetic flow of common entities."

She crossed her arms.

"But now... you’ve added a second source to the same core."

Sepphirothy added, without taking her eyes off him:

"And the problem isn’t having two sources."

A brief pause.

"It’s the fact that they aren’t canceling each other out."

The silence that followed wasn’t one of doubt.

It was one of gradual understanding.

Vergil opened his hand again, watching her as a slight, invisible distortion formed around her fingers, as if space were reacting to the mere presence of that energy.

"There’s no conflict," he said.

Lilith nodded slowly.

"Because there’s no more separation."

She tilted her head slightly.

"You no longer have ’divine energy’ and ’demonic energy’ as distinct elements."

Sepphirothy took a small step forward.

"You have... a new kind of energy."

The sentence hung in the air.

Heavy.

"A fusion?" Vergil asked.

Lilith shook her head.

"No."

Simple.

Direct.

"Fusion would imply loss of original identity. Mixture. Dilution."

Her eyes locked with his.

"This isn’t a mixture."

A pause.

"It’s absolute coexistence."

Sepphirothy took a deep breath.

"You didn’t combine the two."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You’re generating both... in a pure state... at the same time."

The impact of that wasn’t immediate.

But it was profound.

Because this—

This shouldn’t be possible.

Vergil remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing every detail, every implication, every variable being recalculated within his own perception. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

And then—

He smiled.

Slightly.

Not out of arrogance.

But out of recognition. "Interesting."

The word came out low, almost like a verbalized thought.

Lilith observed it with redoubled attention.

"You still don’t fully understand what this means."

Vergil looked up.

"Then explain."

Sephirothy answered.

"It means you are no longer limited to one spectrum."

She began to walk slowly around him, analyzing.

"Divine entities operate under rules of order, stability, positive structure. Demonic entities operate under controlled chaos, adaptation, negative energy."

She stopped in front of him.

"You... are neither on either side."

Lilith finished:

"And you are not between them either."

Silence.

Heavy.

"You are both."

Vergil didn’t answer immediately.

But the atmosphere—

Answered.

The pressure increased.

Slightly. Subtle.

But sufficient.

As if that statement had triggered something.

His heart beat again.

And this time—

The impact was greater.

An invisible wave swept through the room, making objects vibrate minimally, as if reality itself were being adjusted to accommodate it.

Sephirothy narrowed her eyes.

"See?"

Vergil clenched his fist again.

"I’m not regulating this."

Lilith smiled.

But it wasn’t a light smile.

It was... dangerous.

"And that’s exactly why you’re much, much stronger than before."

Silence returned.

But now—

Heavier.

Because this wasn’t just evolution.

It was... rupture.

Vergil took a single deep breath, controlled, precise, and then relaxed his shoulders slightly, like someone finally accepting a new variable within a system they already mastered.

"So this is... Aethronox."

Lilith nodded.

"Yes."

Sephirothy crossed her arms again.

"A race that shouldn’t exist."

Vergil looked ahead.

His eyes—

Calm.

But deep.

"But it does."

And at that moment—

It became clear.

This wasn’t a problem.

It wasn’t a risk.

It wasn’t something to be contained.

It was—

The beginning of something that no one there could yet fully measure.

And, for the first time since the beginning—

Even Lilith fell silent, not for lack of an answer...

But because she knew that, from then on—

Not even she had all the answers.

The silence that had settled after that realization was no longer merely contemplative—it was laden with implications. The kind of quietude that didn’t come from a lack of subject matter, but from an excess of it. The atmosphere still held that invisible pressure, as if the space itself were trying to adjust to Vergil’s new existence, constantly recalibrating itself so as not to succumb to something that followed no previous logic.

It was Sephirothy who broke the silence.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on him, but now with a different gleam—no longer merely analytical, but curious. There was something there that bordered on expectation, like someone before an experiment that hadn’t yet reached its most interesting point.

"Have you tested it?" she asked, directly, without beating around the bush, but with a slight smile forming at the corner of her lips. "A real attack. Not restraint... not analysis. Something real."

Vergil didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze moved slowly from his own hand to the space ahead, as if considering the question not for its difficulty... but for its consequences.

"No," he finally said, his voice low, steady, without hesitation.

A brief pause.

"Not completely."

Sepphirothy raised an eyebrow slightly.

"And why?"

He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh as he uncrossed his arms and allowed his body weight to subtly adjust, like someone who had already calculated it before even being asked.

"Because," he began, with his usual calm, "it will probably destroy everything."

There was no exaggeration in his tone.

No dramatization.

It was a simple statement.

Direct.

Based on calculation.

The silence that followed was not one of doubt.

Sepphirothy nodded.

Slowly. As someone who had already expected exactly that answer.

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms again, her smile now a little more evident, almost amused. "That makes sense."

She looked away for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts, and then looked back at him with something more defined behind her expression.

"Then you need to spend it."

Lilith didn’t interfere this time.

She just watched.

Because she knew where this conversation was going.

Vergil tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in a minimal gesture of genuine interest.

"And where do you suggest?" he asked, without irony, without resistance—just... open to the answer.

Sephirothy didn’t answer immediately.

She took a few slow steps around the room, as if savoring the moment, letting the silence build a little more anticipation before delivering her answer. Her fingers lightly touched her own arm, a distracted but calculated gesture.

And then—

She smiled. But it wasn’t a light smile.

It was... provocative.

"You’re going to like it," he said, his tone drawn out at the end, almost like a promise.