A perfect triangle.
Three chairs arranged with almost ceremonial care. In the center, as if it were the most important artifact of the entire ritual…
Of course.
A Jenga game.
The situation was so absurd it bordered on the unreal. If someone had described this to Sapphire days ago, she would have laughed—loudly—before ripping the messenger's head off. But there she was. With 1% of her own strength, sitting in an ordinary chair, face to face with her daughter… and with Vergil.
Well.
Since they were there.
It was time to begin.
"What do you mean by… punishments?" Katharina asked, her voice cautious, while Vergil distractedly spun a cube full of crumpled papers. The dry sound of the paper hitting the inner walls seemed too loud in that closed room. "You don't mean that—"
"You heard," Vergil interrupted, without looking up. "Punishments."
He smiled.
It wasn't an open smile. Nor a warm one. He was controlled. Restrained. Dangerously calm.
