Vergil walked with firm steps down the corridor leading to the area of the second test.
The metallic sound of his boots echoed rhythmically against the ancient floor of the coliseum, mingling with the distant murmur of the audience and the almost imperceptible vibrations of the magical barriers surrounding the Labyrinth of Daedalus. There was something heavy in the air. It wasn't just expectation—it was the unsettling feeling that many different wills were converging on the same point, some of them dangerously misaligned.
He kept his gaze ahead, his expression neutral, his mind in constant motion.
Then, the air beside him bent.
There was no flashy teleportation sound. Just a slight distortion, as if the space had taken a deep breath—and Viola appeared before him, forcing Vergil to stop.
