He hadn’t known why, but he somehow felt the need to apologize. Suddenly he found himself in the presence of the very demon he thought he’d never get to meet in his adult life. And here he was; here they were, and the apology Vergil felt he owed had lingered on the very tip of his tongue. He swallowed it down after a pause, focusing his thoughts as he preferred to give his father a direct answer.
I’m free now.
“I’ve been busy… And I’ve been gone. Things have been difficult, father.” But there was no use: nothing in his mind had made sense, and he hadn’t known what exactly his father could have found out about him, if anything at all. But nothing perplexed him more as to the reappearance of his dearly departed parent to begin with. Too many questions were raised in the span of mere seconds. “I don’t know how you’re here…”
“My son your heart beats weary… What troubles you so?” Hands are folded neatly in front of him lest he simply grab the boy up. He’s overwhelmed with great joy to find that he is in fact alive. He knows not of his personal journey to hell but should the subject arise he would be right there to comfort his son.
“Your mother and I… escaped around the time yourself and Dante did way with that snipe Mundus. The chains that bound me shattered for sheer rage-” Sparda immediately clicks off that memory, shaking his head slightly. Confusion touches his brow for just a moment before he looks down at Vergil with proud eyes.
“I am overjoyed to be here with you again, son… and I am more than proud of what your you and your brother have done.”
