Vergil stepped back into the silent suite, followed by Roxanne. The sound of footsteps on the marble floor sounded heavier now. The aroma of coffee and the soft scent of fresh flowers already seemed distant, almost unreal.
He stopped in the center of the suite's main hall. His purple eyes fixed on a spot on the floor in front of him. Then he raised one hand, his fingers dancing in the air as if tracing invisible symbols. The atmosphere changed almost instantly—the air grew denser, vibrating with a hidden energy that seemed to pulse beneath the skin.
"I hate wearing these things!" Roxanne felt a chill run down her spine.
From the floor, lines of spectral red light began to form in concentric circles, spinning in opposite directions with mystical precision. Ancient runes and demonic symbols of the Agares clan appeared between the lines, glowing with an intensity that human eyes should not be able to bear — but she could. She always could.
