Vergil followed Alexa in silence.
The smell of blood still hung in the air, viscous and dense like an invisible mist, but he didn't say a word. Not a sigh out of place. He just let her breathe. Feel it. Carry that weight as she wished - without judgment, without ties.
She climbed the stairs slowly, each step as if it were part of a rite of passage. A crossing of the personal hell she had just experienced.
He didn't try to be an anchor. He knew she didn't need any more chains.
Just someone who was there.
Present.
"Thank you for that," she said, without looking back.
Her voice sounded low, hoarse. Charged with raw gratitude - not just for the support, but for allowing her to be who she needed to be. Even after everything she'd seen. Even covered in blood.
"You didn't leave me alone... because you wanted to support me, did you?" she asked, stopping on the last step, her hand gently touching the damp dungeon wall. Her breathing was calmer now. More alive.
