Vergil floated in the air, immersed in his own thoughts as he hovered above the Empire State Building in New York. The city below seemed small and distant, but strangely, he couldn't help but wonder, "Why am I here?" There was no apparent reason for his presence, just a vague curiosity, an instinct that urged him to remain. The lively, pulsating city around him was, in a sense, just a backdrop to the turmoil happening in his mind.
Suddenly, with a sarcastic smile, he turned to the emptiness before him and spoke, as though addressing someone who was watching him—though, to any onlooker, he appeared to be speaking to himself.
"Your existence is impressive, I admit... But how long will you continue watching me?" His voice carried a mix of cynicism and disdain, directed not at a specific person, but at the energy emanating from the small orb floating in front of him. The artifact, seemingly insignificant, resisted Vergil's control ever so slightly, but he was still in charge.
