"Your face tells me you're up to something..." said Sapphire, returning with light steps but watchful eyes. Beside her, Ada crossed her arms, observing with surgical precision.
"Actually, your face says, 'I'm hatching the plan of the century,'" Ada added, tilting her head slightly as she stared at Vergil, who held the Orb in his partially frozen hand—and with a dangerously satisfied smile on his face.
Vergil chuckled softly. "Come on, don't exaggerate. I just shared a little prediction of the future with our guest here."
"Prediction, huh?" Sapphire raised an eyebrow. 'Let me guess: that other one there wakes up out of nowhere, freaks out with the Orb, and kills everyone?'
Vergil snapped his fingers with his free hand, feigning surprise. "Bingo. But with a little more style, of course."
Ada let out a theatrical sigh. "That's not a plan. That's provoking the apocalypse with a monocle and a wine glass."
