Wukong's laughter still echoed as the air crackled.
A deep, heavy hum filled Erebus—so dense that even the flames seemed to hesitate. The shadows around Vergil lengthened, and a sudden chill swept through the space.
Ada turned, her eyes wide. "Vergil… what is this?"
Before anyone could react, the attack came.
It wasn't lightning, nor fire, nor ordinary magic. It was something worse.
A wave of dark energy—pure negation, the antithesis of existence.
It wasn't coming toward Vergil.
It was seeking him out.
As if the universe itself wanted to extinguish him.
The sound of the impact was a muffled thunderclap.
Vergil instinctively spun Yamato, opening a rift of demonic energy to try and contain the attack, but he was already exhausted.
The blow struck him from the side, tearing his body from shoulder to abdomen.
The ground beneath his feet cracked. Blood gushed in thick, red gushes, evaporating as soon as it touched the hot soil. His suit was destroyed, hanging in tatters.
