[ Ah.

It comes as a sort of relief to see Nero finally draw his weapon. This, he knows, is familiar with; this comes far more naturally to him than anything else in this world. Does Vergil have any idea how to approach being Nero's father? Not in the slightest. Does he know what he would have done, trapped with Dante in the Underworld for the foreseeable future? No. But on both accounts they had fought, and that had been familiar and welcome.

It feels fitting, then, to fight his blood upon arriving here.

It is fitting. It also gives him something to focus on, something to pull his mind away from the fact that he feels absolutely no connection to the heritage he'd fought and killed and died for. Vergil smiles, an almost bitter thing. ]

On that, we can agree. This does suck.

[ Strange words, that sound as though they would be more fitting coming from Dante's mouth than his own. He can't deny their truth, however.

Vergil raises the Yamato, settles into a ready stance as he keeps his eyes on Nero.

Even if he isn't real, if this is all just some hallucination, perhaps he can afford the boy a bit of courtesy. ]

If what you're theorizing is true, we'll settle the matter right now. Show me the strength of your convictions, Nero.