Chapter Text
It was an unfortunate coincidence how hauntingly similar the circumstances of his birth were to his past life. The cold laboratory, the experimentation, it all struck the lonely child as too familiar. Like a dream he couldn't remember once he woke up.
The young boy was certain he had never known anything else though. After all, he was created within the confines of this lab, under the direction of lead scientist Agnus and His Holiness.
Small clawed fingers raked against the cold metal floor of his containment cell, too weak to leave any marks. Floor length white hair laid fanned across the ground where a small head rested, curtaining the young rounded face of a child. He blinked slowly through pale strands, staring blankly at the sealed door on the far wall. It was sealed to everyone but Agnus himself, beyond a select few scientists under his direct command. A small group that he trusted enough to allow access to his favourite research subject.
That's all he was, a research subject.
He was created within this laboratory, using the essence of multiple high level demons the Order had summoned and captured for Agnus's experimentation, but more importantly using the DNA of the last known living relative of the Saviour. That made him valuable at least, too valuable to kill needlessly in the pursuit of knowledge.
Agnus had regalled the young research subject about how extraordinary his creation was, how blessed the child should feel to be created from the blood of The Saviour Sparda himself, how his purpose is to one day sacrifice his own essence to resurrect their saviour. Agnus had also let slip that his Holiness desired the power of Sparda, to ascend to a higher form of being.
Thus, to achieve that end, Subject-01 of the Saviour Project was created.
The child was sure Agnus wasn't actually paying attention to the amount of information he shared with him, most likely because he didn't really see the child as anything but a possession. The scientist knew he was intelligent, marvelously so one could argue, but really Agnus only saw the demonic child as an extension of himself and his own scientific accomplishment.
Subject-01 didn't mind, he was just happy whenever the scientist gifted him with his attention outside of the usual tests.
Life within his containment cell was unbearably lonely, and he spent most of his time either sleeping or watching the door in hopes that someone would come. Of course the arrival of the scientist was usually accompanied by a series of painful tests, but that was okay. It's what he was made for.
Today was no different. Subject-01 stared listlessly at the door, eyes half lidded with exhaustion.
The previous day was absolutely brutal for him. Agnus had sent him into the large test chamber while he watched from the observation room above. The stuttering scientist had released multiple demons into the chamber and watched as he fought like a feral animal with nothing but his teeth and claws. They had certainly gotten a few good slashes in, but Subject-01 gave just as good as he got. Better really, since they were dead and he was not.
He let the monster beneath his skin come to the surface, encouraged by the approval of Agnus to rip and tear his enemies to shreds. He knew Agnus was always pleased when he allowed his demonic heritage to take the reins, often remarking on the scales that would spread over his skin and the glow of his eyes.
The scientist had even celebrated when some of these physical alterations became permanent.
Subject-01 couldn't remember what he looked like before these changes, but Agnus took notes in great detail about what he looked like after. The child had sharp pointed ears that peaked out from behind his silken hair, tips coloured a dark maroon that faded back into his regular skin tone. That same maroon coloured the small scales that rested on his cheek bones and at the corners of his eyes, and the child could feel them whenever he scrunched up his face.
On rare occasions, usually in the heat of battle, a pair of black wing-like horns would curl upwards around his skull, and a long thin tail would lash out behind him. The latter two only appeared when he was in a prolonged state of heightened stress or emotion, Agnus had noted after extensive testing.
His ear twitched at a sudden noise beyond the door, straining to listen as footsteps began to approach from down the hall. Subject-01 pushed himself up with shaking arms, moving to kneel respectfully with his small hands folded in his lap, eyes down. Light poured in when the door slid open, and S-01 had to close his eyes against the sudden onslaught.
He opened them shortly after, looking up at the hulking silhouette of Agnus standing in the doorway with watering eyes. No matter how many times it happened S-01 never felt prepared for the light beyond his cell. His sensitive eyes had adjusted to the constant darkness of his room, letting him see clearly despite the lack of light. Any sudden change to that darkness could be incredibly uncomfortable for the boy. Unfortunately Agnus liked to study how his eyes reacted to different light levels, and took great interest in making his cat-like pupils shrink to a near sliver.
Agnus grinned with all his teeth and walked into the room, grabbing the child by the side of his head once he was close enough. He turned the boy's face to the side to access his left ear where his ID tag was pierced through his lobe. S-01 remained motionless as the scientist scanned the barcode on the label with a small device, quietly rising to his feet when the large man stepped away.
"G-g-good afternoon, Subject-01! We have q-q-q-quite the excit-t-ting day ahead of us." He said as he began leading the small boy through the doorway and into the cold hall beyond, " I h-h-h-have recently come into p-possession of a f-f-fascinating new research opportunity!"
The child withheld a grimace at the scientist's enthusiasm, carefully keeping his face blank. He knew from experience that anything that got Agnus this excited was bad news for him. A happy Agnus was usually a prelude to pain.
S-01's hair trailed on the floor behind him as he walked two steps behind Agnus, the ends stained a filthy grey from the accumulated dirt and dust it was dragged through. Honestly his hair got in the way of both himself and the scientists as they performed their tests. It would have been preferred that his hair either be cut to a more manageable length, or tied up and out of the way, but His Holiness had actually forbade it.
Sanctus, in many ways, treated S-01 as a holy relic. While he allowed the research and experimentation on the child, so long as they left no permanent damage, he had forbidden any permanent markings or alterations to his appearance.
The child wasn't entirely sure why this was the case. He was sure, however, that Sanctus made him uncomfortable whenever he was in his company. He would never express this aloud, fearing the repercussions such a statement would bring, but he privately thought to himself that Sanctus looked at him like a predator looking at its next meal. There was a hunger in his eyes that set S-01's teeth on edge, made him want to pull his lips back and snarl in warning. Normally such a display of demonic behavior would be encouraged but he just knew it would not go over nearly as well if he were to direct such behaviour towards His Holiness.
The hall filled with the echoing sounds of Agnus's expensive shoes and S-01's cold bare feet following almost silently after him. The white haired child kept his eyes respectfully directed towards the floor, not wanting to meet Agnus's gaze whenever he turned to glance back at him.
"You will be placed within the t-t-test chamber alongside our new s-s-subject today. You are to make contact with it, see if it responds to you. Your only restriction t-t-today is that you are not to seriously harm the new subject, as I wish to continue m-m-my research of it for some time to c-c-come." Agnus ordered, barely sparing a glance behind him to make sure the child was paying attention. He led S-01 through the halls and into his main laboratory, gesturing him to jump up onto an examination table in order to start attaching probes to his body for monitoring.
S-01 was careful to not sit on his long hair, throwing it over the opposite side of the table as he hopped up. Agnus untied the fastenings of the subject's white and gold medical shirt, opening it to reveal his bare chest and shoulders and attaching the cold probes to different spots on the child with practised ease. S-01 did nothing more than blink at the sharp sting of the small needles piercing his skin as each probe was attached, more than used to the feeling.
Once the probes across his chest and back were attached Agnus moved on silently to the boy's bare arms and legs. Once that was done he stepped back to enter something on a nearby terminal, allowing a moment for S-01 to close his medical attire back across his torso, tying it closed once more before he folded his hands demurely in his lap.
The boy felt his instincts begin to surface the longer he sat there, sensing another demonic presence somewhere nearby. He tried to subtly sniff the air, hoping to get an idea of what he would be facing, but he could only recognize the metallic stench of old blood and chemicals. Whatever this new subject was, it hadn't been brought into the main laboratory yet.
S-01 lowered himself down from the exam table once Agnus was done logging his information and gestured for him to follow. He led him towards the entrance of the test chamber, now holding a clip board in one hand. A shiver went down his spine as they drew closer, an oppressive energy pressing down around him in warning.
Don't come any closer, or face your death.
The child almost stopped in his tracks when the feeling washed over him, and it was only his experience that prevented him from reacting poorly while in the presence of Agnus. Whatever the Order had managed to get their hands on was powerful, and had an incredibly dangerous aura that S-01 had never encountered before.
The demons he faced in the past certainly had dangerous auras themselves, but they felt wild and unfocused. More mindless beast than a real threat. This signature gave the impression of refined power, like it had been trained and honed over many years to be forged into a weapon of terrible strength.
There was something else, though. A sensation that crawled beneath his skin and made his inner devil cry out. For what he had no idea, but the sudden feeling frightened him.
Agnus opened the password protected door to the chamber and stepped aside as it slid open, revealing the large open space beyond it. S-01 silently stepped through the door, making sure all of his hair made it inside with him before the exit was sealed behind him.
His sharp eyes readjusted to the new lighting, and he took several deep breaths to calm his racing nerves. A blue light illuminated the chamber from the observation deck, a pulsating glow that S-01 knew had not previously occupied the space. The change struck him as odd, but he didn't have time to investigate it.
When he inhaled he was struck with the scent of blood mixed with something truly vile. It immediately snatched his attention away from the new light. His eyes quickly zeroed in on a form laying on the opposite side of the chamber, difficult to discern its features at first in the low light. When inhaled again, this time something underlying the sickly smell triggered his inner devil to begin crying out once more.
This… this feeling. It swept through his bones and took hold of his heart. The sudden urge to rush to the side of this figure was almost overwhelming, and it was only a deeply ingrained caution that kept him in place.
He dropped low to the ground, subconsciously making himself smaller while never taking his eyes off of the other demon. Because that is what he must be, a demon of considerable strength, despite current appearances suggesting otherwise.
S-01 began to crawl forwards on all fours, keeping his center of gravity low and steady. He studied the figure as he drew closer, taking note of every detail.
It appeared to be a man laying on his side facing away from him. He was unconscious, his breaths quiet and raspy like there was something blocking his throat. He wore dark armour, and one sniff of the air told S-01 that whatever this armour was made of was the source of the vile stench. His arms were twisted behind his back and restrained, tightly bound with manacles S-01 recognized from some of the more painful experiments he had experienced.
But what truly caught the child's attention, what caused his heart to skip a beat with emotion he couldn't identify, was the man's stark white hair.
White hair, just like Sparda. Like him.
The child's breath stuttered in shock, inhuman eyes blown wide in pure awe. He breathed in once more when he knelt several meters away, slightly hidden behind the large caged power core in the center of the chamber, and was struck with a feeling of belonging, of familiarity he had never experienced before. His demonic heart knew this man, despite having never met someone like him in all his life. He knew, deep within his soul, that this was someone important to him.
S-01 recognized that all of these feelings and instincts came directly from his demonic heritage, and where someone else may have been unsettled by just how strong these instincts were, S-01 had learned that these instincts are what kept him alive, he had to trust them.
The child dipped his head low to the ground, hair falling around him like a curtain as he started to trill quietly towards the man. He was offhandedly aware that the sounds he made couldn't be replicated by a human tongue, and that Agnus was probably having a field day up in the observation room, but he was more focused on the task at hand.
A muscle in the man's neck twitched at the sound, and S-01 took that as an invitation to continue. He chirped again, crawling closer to the man until he was only several feet away, his hair dragging through what he realized was a large pool of blood and black corruption. The substance clung to his clawed hands and feet and the child cried out in animalistic pain when the black corruption touched his skin, causing him to backtrack out of the mixed pool.
A sudden subvocal growl froze him in place, his eyes immediately snapping back to the man. He watched as the man's muscles tensed and he began to shift himself to push off the floor. The man slowly rose to his knees, his forehead pushing against the ground as he forced himself up, chest rumbling with a low growl the whole time.
S-01 chirped at him, not sure what he was doing but so desperately wanting this man to acknowledge him, too afraid to approach the corruption again.
The man's head suddenly snapped to face him, and S-01 was struck by the glowing red eyes that met him. He watched those eyes widen when they saw him, flickering across his features as though taking note of every detail in quick succession. The child watched them narrow as they met his own gaze again, and a more audible growl filled the air threateningly.
The small boy practically dropped to the floor with how fast he moved, stomach pressing against the metal floor as he instinctively lowered his head to expose his neck to the stranger. He whined softly, scared but still so desperate for something he couldn't name.
He wanted to crawl inside this man's presence and hide from the world outside. He wanted to curl up in this stranger's arms and know he was protected. He didn't know why, he had never met anyone else like him before, but his demonic heart was telling him that this man meant safety. This man meant home.
The dark armoured man watched him with silent intensity, watchful and judging of his every move. S-01 dared not to so much as twitch under the man's gaze. The both of them were frozen in a stand off, and S-01 had no idea what would happen once one of them breaks it.
—
The world floated in darkness for a long time. There were moments of clarity, rare though they were. Vergil clung to his freedom with an iron grip, mind finally unclouded by the will of Mundus commanding him.
He could vaguely remember the image of Dante, older than he last saw him, within a dark castle. He was sure they must have fought once more, because whatever Dante had done finally shattered Mundus's control over him. He couldn't remember what happened afterwards, everything was too painful and distant, but he was certain he had tried to return to somewhere safe.
His perception was severely impaired by the poison still pumping through his veins, but he pressed on. There was only one place he felt safe, in all his time alone after the death of their mother. One person he would give anything to see again. He doubted she would forgive him for leaving, and he's certainly not worthy of her forgiveness, but he had to try.
He didn't remember how he made it to the shores of Fortuna, but whatever he had done to arrive there had stripped him of what little power he had left. Vergil's arms shook as he dragged himself forwards, forcing himself to keep moving. He pushed himself shakily to his feet once he reached a large stone that he was able to use as support. His chest rattled with every breath, the poison Mundus had forced down his throat coating the inside of his lungs painfully. A cold sweat covered his skin as he slowly made his way into the massive forests that covered Fortuna, struggling to keep his feet underneath him.
He had been slowly stumbling his way through the woods towards the main settlement of Furtuna when a patrol from the Order appeared. He snarled and fought back as best he could, wielding the shattered remains of Yamato with a burning shame, but he was so weakened from his time under the control of Mundus that the Order patrol easily overwhelmed him.
They bound his arms behind his back and dragged him into a crate like an animal. He snarled and hissed, flashing sharp teeth in promise, even managing to tear several fingers off a hand that wandered too close to his face. Despite this the Order members working to restrain him showed little care for his display.
They took him somewhere deep within the island, through the dark abandoned streets of the city and up towards the looming spires of Fortuna castle, farther within its halls than he had ever been allowed to venture when he was here all those years ago. He faded in and out of consciousness as they delivered his battered form to a large hulking man wearing a monocle, who had a mad glint in his eyes and was grinning with all of his teeth.
What followed next was more pain. Needles, blades, machinery and chemicals. The large man took note of everything on a clipboard with satisfaction, every response and reaction diligently written down with vigour. Vergil decided he would die first.
When he was finally left alone he was dumped into a large chamber with high walls, a series of windows lining the upper half of one wall indicating an observation room of some kind.
He was still wearing the damn armour, and Vergil cursed himself for not having ripped the thing off when he had the chance. Now he was too weak, his energy spent and power drained. His arms were still painfully bound behind his back, the plating of his armour stabbing into his skin. Vergil honestly couldn't care less, his bones ached down to the marrow and even the air against his skin sent shocks of agony through his veins.
Vergil had very few options available to him. He tried to stay awake and vigilant for as long as he could, but eventually exhaustion caught up with him, dragging him back into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.
Hours must have passed without change. His demonic aura pressed into the walls surrounding him, filling up the space with an oppressive air to anyone but himself.
He didn't wake when the door opened. He didn't hear the small footsteps drawing nearer. He did, however, hear the soft call of a demonic nestling close by, and his own devil blood snapped to attention in response.
He snarled viciously in warning. Whatever dared approach him would face dire consequences. He may be weakened, but he would have no problems dispatching some pathetic demon juvenile.
The eldest son of Sparda forced himself up onto his knees, shoving his forehead painfully into the metal ground below him to leverage himself up as his arms were still bound behind his back.
He breathed heavily, teeth bared.
His sharp eyes flashed over to the encroaching demon, only to freeze in place when his gaze met that of a child.
A human child.
Vergil scowled in confusion. He had been positive there was another demon present, but all he could see in the large chamber was this child.
But then the supposedly human youth made a sound that should have been impossible for human vocal cords. The youth chirped at him. It was as he was staring in blank surprise that Vergil actually registered the child's features.
Large cat-like eyes were blown wide, framed by a soft delicate face that reminded him so painfully of his twin's that it took his breath away. The little one's hair was white and so ridiculously long it trailed about a foot behind him on the floor he had crawled along to reach him. Vergil noticed some of it was stained from the blood that had collected around him, but there was no mistaking that unnatural colour.
There was almost no chance this child didn't carry the blood of Sparda.
Absently Vergil took a deep breath through his nose and was immediately struck with the scent of shared blood. It was difficult to discern beneath the scent of chemicals and other demons that seemed to permeate the child's skin, but there was no mistaking his own kin when he was paying attention.
He scowled instinctively at the child, mentally rejecting the thought of there just happening to be a mysterious relative in this place. It was far too convenient.
His mind flashed back to the many illusions that had been cast by Mundus. Visions of his mother, of Dante, of Sparda himself coming to rescue him. Each false, each breaking him just a little bit more. He remembered the she-devil, Trish, who had stolen his mother's face and smiled as she drove electricity into his body.
He quietly wondered if that's what this was. What if his escape from Mundus' control was just another illusion, a fiction to knock him off his guard?
The child offered nothing, just staring with deathly stillness. The boy barely so much as blinked.
He noticed the many bandages wrapping around the child's arms and legs, some disappearing beneath the hem of his ivory and gold clothing. The nestling was also covered in devices that one look told him were piercing his skin with needles and prongs. Someone had harmed this child, repeatedly, for a long, long time.
Vergil's eyes narrowed as he stared at the nestling with a quiet rage simmering beneath his pale skin. This may not be real, but the thought that someone saw fit to inflict torture upon another descendant of Sparda pissed him off.
Vergil didn't realize he had been audibly growling until the nestling dropped to the floor and presented their neck in submission. Their eyes were still locked on one another, and the eldest son of Sparda watched the nestling's every move.
Something Vergil had come to understand during his research over the years was the nature of demonic twins. It was believed demonic twins were originally a single entity split in two, always at odds with one another but incomplete without. This had proved true in many ways, and Vergil had learned that in many ways demonic twins were indistinguishable from one another. Were either of them to ever have children their demons would ultimately recognize the other's child as their own.
At the time the elder Sparda had found the thought incredibly distasteful. It was just another thing of his that Dante could steal, another treasure for his twin to claim possession of. That he couldn't even have a child without his brother demanding they share made him all the more resentful of him.
Damn Dante for leaving this child, if he ever even knew about them. Vergil was certain the nestling was not his own since he knew the timeline didn't line up to when he had last been with her, the child was far too young. Vergil would never be so foolish as to leave his offspring in the hands of a cult that worships his demonic father as a god.
It took quite a bit of effort to quiet the simmering rage barely held beneath his skin, but Vergil got it under control enough to switch his growl to a more comforting subvocal he remembered his own father using during his childhood. He cringed at the sound of it coming from himself. It was unnatural.
The child, whose gender Vergil couldn't quite discern from their cherubic features, blinked at him silently. Their pale blue eyes with those inhuman feline pupils, which had been thin as a needle since they made eye contact, blew wide. They tilted their head, not unlike a bird, and Vergil could see the tips of pointed ears twitching from beneath the child's hair. That was certainly new.
Vergil tried to speak softly but his words caught in his throat and caused him to start coughing violently, the sound tearing out of him raw and wet, his whole frame shaking with the force of it. Dark fluid splattered the metal beneath him, the corruption clinging to his lips as he choked on it.
The nestling flinched hard at the sight, a distressed noise escaping them as they scrambled a few feet farther back only to stop. They didn’t run, Vergil dimly registered. Even through the haze of pain and poison, his vision swimming and his lungs burning, he noticed the way the child hesitated instead of fleeing. Fear was there, he could smell it, sharp and acrid, but something anchored the nestling in place.
Curiosity perhaps? How foolish.
Vergil forced the coughing down through sheer will, swallowing the taste of rot and iron as he dragged in a ragged breath. His head dipped again, shoulders rising and falling unevenly, before he lifted his gaze back to the child.
“…Come here,” he managed, the word rough and splintered from disuse.
The nestling stilled completely, and for a long moment neither of them moved. The chamber hummed faintly around them, the distant thrum of machinery filling the silence left by his ragged breathing. Then slowly, hesitantly, the child shifted forward, one careful movement at a time.
They circled wide around the edge of the corrupted blood pooled between them. Their long hair dragged across the floor behind them like a pale ghost, catching faintly on the metal floor with each cautious step. Their eyes never left him, wide and assessing, as if waiting for the slightest sign that this was a mistake.
Vergil remained still, glaring in challenge. If the youth tried anything he would have no qualms about tearing their throat out.
The child finally stopped just beyond his reach. Close enough that he could see the minute tremble in their limbs. Vergil could hear the uneven hitch in their breathing, to scent the overlapping layers of demon and human and something… other that clung unnaturally to their small frame. Vergil’s gaze flicked briefly to the devices embedded in their skin.
Slowly and deliberately he shifted, bringing one knee forward so he sat a fraction more upright despite the protest of his battered body. The movement drew a small startled chirp from the child, but they held their ground.
“…and what are you meant to be?” Vergil said, voice still rough but steadier now, quieter, "another specter sent to torment me?"
The child only blinked at him.
Their head tilted again, those strange eyes studying him with unnerving intensity before they made a soft, uncertain sound in response, something between a chirp and a hum. Vergil frowned faintly.
“Can you speak?” he demanded.
A pause.
Then, haltingly like the word had to be dragged up from somewhere rarely used, the child answered.
“…Yes.”
Barely above a whisper, soft and unsure. The child had a gentle accent that Vergil couldn't place without hearing more of it. Vergil exhaled slowly through his nose, something unreadable passing through his expression.
Vergil continued, voice dropping lower, “Tell me… your name, child”
The nestling swallowed, small throat bobbing. Their little face scrunched up in confusion.
“…my name?”
Vergil nodded again with irritation. The child just blinked slowly at him.
"Subject Zero One…" the nestling whispered like they were sharing a secret.
Vergil blinked once, twice, before his face twisted in disgust. That wasn't a name, that was a designation. Something given to an object of interest and not a living breathing child. Vergil hated this place more and more with every passing second. The eldest Sparda shook his head firmly to clear his mind and looked into their eyes deeply.
The nestling stared back, seeming to catalogue his features. Vergil wondered absently if the child had ever seen someone like himself before. Now was not the time to ponder such things, though.
Vergil took a breath, ignoring the child's non-name for now, "I… am Vergil. We are kin." he stated as firmly as he could manage with his weakened voice.
A pause.
"What… is kin?" inquired the nestling, head tilting like a bird once more. Their eyes flickered towards the large observation window before locking back onto Vergil's gaze. The adult devil had to force himself not to look at where he was sure that scientist was watching them, keeping his gaze locked on the child.
Vergil took a deep breath, “it means… we share blood.” He stated as firmly as he could. His breathing was becoming laborious, a deep sickly rattle emanating from his chest with each intake.
The child blinked slowly and looked down at the floor as they processed what the older devil had said, and Vergil could practically see the gears turning in their head. Realization bloomed across the nestling’s face suddenly, eyes widening impossibly larger. It looked uncanny on such a human face.
“…we’re family?” They whispered in breathless wonder.
Vergil felt his heart skip a beat at that word, his breath catching as he held the child’s gaze. His features twisted into something ugly.
The word settled between them like something dangerous.
His expression hardened almost immediately, the softness vanishing beneath something colder, more controlled.
“…No,” he said bluntly. “Blood means nothing. Do not mistake this for a kindness”
The nestling stilled. Confusion flickered across their face.
“…But you have not hurt me,” they said after a moment, as if testing the logic out loud. “Others do.”
Vergil exhaled slowly through his nose, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. That was not exactly a tall order. He did not have the energy for this.
“Listen to me carefully,” he said, voice dropping again with authority.
The nestling leaned in without realizing it.
“You are aware we are being observed,” it was voiced as a question but in truth was a statement.
The child barely reacted. They turned their face upwards, looking towards the large observation window over Vergil's shoulder. The light flashed over their eyes like a film.
“…I know,” they whispered, nodding just slightly.
Of course they did. Vergil studied them for a long moment, eyes narrowed. The child looked back to him, meeting his eyes.
Vergil leaned forward into the child's space menacingly, a fierce glare pinning the nestling in place without so much as a word. Had his arms been free Vergil would have grabbed the child to help make his point, but just the suggestion of a threat would have to do.
"You will tell me everything you know of this place," he commanded sharply, growling low in his chest. He dimly registered the nestling's breath stutter, pupils shrinking impossibly smaller. Sounds of frantic movement entered the chamber from the observation deck. He'd make this quick.
"What is the date?"
The nestling stuttered, "I don't know,"
"How far below Fortuna castle are we?"
"I don't know."
"What is the purpose of this facility?"
"I don't-..." the child paused, unsure. Vergil jumped on that hesitation.
"You know something. You will tell me, now." he pushed as much demonic influence as he could into his voice, demanding obedience through sheer force of will. The nestling blinked rapidly under the sudden onslaught of compulsion, expression dazed.
"I-... this is a research lab. T-they're studying demons." The child sputtered breathlessly. Vergil glowered.
"That much I could deduce myself. No, I want to know its purpose. What are you, child?"
Loud sounds could be heard from beyond the chamber door. Not much time now.
"I am a vessel for our Saviour's return." the nestling stated tonelessly, eyes distant as they echoed words spoken to them in the past.
Vergil said nothing, merely holding the child's gaze as the door opened behind them. Several armed attendants filed into the chamber, followed by the hulking figure of Agnus. Vergil hissed animalistically as one drew closer, an electrified staff stabbing in his direction.
Another used his momentary distraction to kick him painfully off balance, sending him sprawling gracelessly to the floor. Vergil snarled furiously, cringing as he landed heavily on his bound arms.
Agnus walked over during the commotion and silently grabbed the child by their upper arm, dragging them up to their feet and out the door in an instant. The nestling twisted their head to continue watching him as they were pulled away, a new light shining behind their eyes.