Vergil mistaking her composure for apathy suits Nel fine. Saying aloud that she wants him to kill her? Less fine. Too close to the truth of an ideal end, even if he can't be the one to provide it.

She reacts then, glaring with a deadly light in the violet of her eyes. The foot or so of space keeping them apart is the furthest thing from empty; it's charged with intent and potential. "Precisely because we are no longer dreaming is why you wouldn't get half as far as before. I've been patient with you.

"Realize that."