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... d to. The air around him rippled, as if the simple gesture had caused time itself to consider continuing to flow.

The little girl was still standing before him, paralyzed, but her eyes burned with a strange spark of indignation and duty. Her childlike appearance was a thin veil — something the being inside Vergil perceived with uncomfortable clarity. This was not a child. It was a function. A cosmic protocol. An automated punishment in the form of something that had once been human.

...

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