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I Want To Break Free

Chapter Text

All Emporio knew was that he knew nothing.

He knew nothing of what was going on, or why this was happening. Why his friends were dead, why Pucci was so strong, he only barely understood what was even happening as he was left naked, his clothes disintegrated by [ Made In Heaven ] ’s time acceleration.

He was left naked, twirling and tumbling in what looked to be space, the Earth completely destroyed, eroded away by the rocky shores of time. Living things, and only living things, encircled him, similarly confused and scared. Fish, plants, butterflies, worms...Any that would have died due to the vacuum of space would likely have just blinked out of existence as they became not living and therefore not immune to the time acceleration.

Emporio looked around, blonde hair lightly swishing in the absence of gravity as he took in his surroundings. A whale listlessly floated on past him, as did a school of fish, desperately trying to keep together despite being out of water.

“Wh...W-What is this?! This place...Where am I?!!!”

He yelled once again, though the only things able to hear him were the passing life-forms around him. It’s not like anything could answer back, anyways--He was out in the middle of the ocean, so everything around him was mostly marine life.


And just as he began to fear that the world would be stuck like this, that he should start calling for help more than he has been…

A bright, almost...heavenly light began to shine. Emporio tried to shield his eyes.


The light grew more and more intense, taking up Emporio’s entire field of vision as he was forced to close his eyes as to not blind himself.

“AAAAAGGHHHH!!!!” He coughed. Time seemed to be slowing down.

“I-I… I c-can’t...breathe…!”

...And just as it had arrived, his brief sojourn into space had ended, as Emporio suddenly felt a rush of sensations. His bare back hit tile as he found the dolphin he had been gripping had suddenly been replaced with a cold, metal trash can, falling down on top of him due to the reintroduction of gravity.

“G-Guh...ugh--!” He moved to touch it and looked at it with a considerable amount of shock. He tilted his head, still on the ground, to look at his surroundings once more. The dark grey tile floor with the white footprint markings...the bleak eggshell walls...he looked up and saw a security camera, pointing diligently straight a head, underneath it a clock.

The clock...was running normally. It showed the time to be about 12:05. Noon-ish.

He looked back down and saw his clothes, unharmed in front of him. A small baseball jersey, emblazoned with the number 6, with his cleats and Chicago Cubs baseball cap resting nearby. His pants were hanging out of the garbage can.

He picked them up, and a million thoughts rushed through his head, mostly containing the words “why” and “how”. It was then that on the other side of a prison gate on the wall he was closest to, he began to hear voices, and peeked his head around the corner.

It was a male, a guard from the hat he wore, with four women crouched around him. There were clothes on the floor, and everyone was naked, just like Emporio was. They must have experienced the same thing he did.

The guard was yelling. “Whoa! You! Why are you all naked?!” He pointed an accusatory finger as a woman. “Hurry up! Hurry up and put on your prison clothes!”

The woman looked up at him for a second before he realized he was naked as well.

“...Huh? W-Woah, I’m…E-Even I’m?! Why am I, a guard, naked?!” He picked up his uniform, resting nearby, and covered himself up, looking around. “Time was speeding up, and...Oh shit! They’re watching this on the camera! They’re gonna get the wrong impression!”

Emporio felt his breath lodge in his mouth. He recognized this place.

“Th...T-This is…! This place! I-I know this place! This is Green Dolphin Street Prison!” He looked down the hall. “A-And this is the hallway before the visiting rooms!”

Emporio put on his clothes, and a familiar exchange came from down the hall. A girl and a man, talking.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?! I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU! You think you can just come WALTZING back into my life?!” The man apparently said something, but Emporio couldn’t hear it, only hearing the girl’s reply. “Don’t act all fatherly NOW!

Emporio stared at the clad-iron door, confused and scared. Those voices...they sound No, it couldn’t be! He saw what happened to them! He saw big sister Jolyne get killed and her father, Mr. Jotaro, get killed by Pucci!

“I want to help you...I’ll get you out of here soon.” Emporio scrambled into his crack in the wall, silently reassuring him that his stand, [ Burning Down The House ] , still worked. He was able to peek out of another crack within the room, seeing the two people inside.

Two people, dressed like Jolyne and Jotaro.

Emporio felt his heart stop.

“Shut UP! You wouldn’t be able to anyway! I can handle two years for a hit-and-run by myself! It’s PATHETIC! I don’t want your stupid father act! Go home!”

He stared at the two, arguing. That girl, she looked so similar to big sister Jolyne...But there was just enough different to set them apart. A bee mark on her clothes instead of a butterfly, three hair buns instead of two...Even Mr. Jotaro’s look-alike seemed to have a different, older face…


Emporio felt more tears welling up, seeing what looked like slightly off recreations of the two people he had known and made friends with.

“(...W...W-What…?! These two?! ...B-But they...t-they look so similar, but they’re not…!)”

Emporio’s mind went back to the people he had met.


Mr. Jotaro. Jolyne’s dad. He was rather stoic, and didn't talk much, but Emporio could tell he was a good person, if a less-than-stellar dad. His head was split in half by Pucci while he was trying to protect Jolyne, and he likely died instantly.


Big sister Ermes, a tough sort with dreadlocks who landed herself in prison to get revenge on the man who killed her sister. She got both her arms cut off by Pucci as well and bled out in the ocean.

Big sister Foo Fighters, a colony of plankton given life by one of the stand disks created by Pucci’s [ Whitesnake ] . Tough, but curious and aching to get her own identity, she died earlier on, sacrificing herself for both Jotaro’s memory disk and Anasui.

Big brother Weather Report, an amnesiac tossed in prison by Pucci, his own brother. He died earlier on, killed by Pucci and left for dead on the side of the road to Cape Canaveral. He left behind his stand disc, [ Weather Report ] .

Big brother Anasui, who Emporio thought was the most scary of the group. He uses his stand, [ Diver Down ] , to destroy things from the inside out, and had a creepy crush on Jolyne. He was killed by Pucci as well while protecting Jolyne.

Finally...big sister Jolyne...Oh, how he missed her...she was so daring, she was always able to protect those she loved and stand up for herself…She had both her arms cut off while fighting Pucci and bled out in the ocean, sacrificing herself for Emporio right in front of him so he could escape.

Emporio wondered if their souls were still here, floating after the universe had reset…

...Or, had they gone to heaven? A real heaven...?

Or...maybe something else happened…

Chapter Text

“Oooiiii! Mister! Oi, Mr. Zeppeli!” Speedwagon sprinted along out of the tunnel, following swiftly after his friends while carrying his briefcase full of things. It’s been a while since he’s traveled this far out of Ogre Street, but this much of an exciting change of pace is worth the danger! Especially when he’s got such powerful compatriots!

Jonathan Joestar looked around, trying to determine the state of the town they were approaching. Nice and sunny, filled with lush green grass. Two farmers diligently tilled their fields.

“There are people working...It seems this town is still alright.” He looked off further into the town with a steeled look in his eyes.

“But...Dio is still somewhere in this town, hiding behind these inaccessible mountains.” It had been a rather long and treacherous carriage ride to this town through the mountains, especially with Jack the Ripper attacking so suddenly.

Speedwagon skidded to a stop behind the eccentrically-dressed hamon master. “So, Zeppeli...could I learn how to use hamon, too? I wanna try it! Teach me!”

Zeppeli put his index finger to his chin and looked Speedwagon over, judging his worth.

“...Impossible.” Zeppeli turned on his heel and started to walk away before Speedwagon ran back around in front of him. “W-What?! Why?! Hey, dammit, why not?! Why can’t I, you bastard?! Just tell me!”

Mr. Zeppeli sighed and gestured to Jonathan, the hulking boy scanning the area with a smile on his face.

“...Even now, Jojo keeps up the breathing method I taught him. It’s not easy keeping up that special breathing method unconsciously and at all times, night and day, awake and asleep...Only one in ten thousand has the attitude, and Jojo has the incredible willpower created from the sad past and heavy future he carries on his back.”

Zeppeli pointed a finger at Speedwagon. “I finally learned it after studying for decades under a master in Tibet, with 5,000 years of history...Speedwagon, you know well yourself that you are not pressured enough.”

Speedwagon looked away. “...Well, that might be true, yeah…” Suddenly, he was screaming in Zeppeli’s face. “That might be so, but I still want to help! Are you telling me to just watch, Zeppeli?!! You bastard!” He clenched his fist.

“Dio is somewhere in this town...I can’t forgive that bastard! I may steal possessions, but he steals lives!”

Zeppeli hummed. “Hmmm...Well, for now, if I stimulate the muscles of your diaphragm, which moves your lungs, you should be able to create a light ripple.”

“R-Really?! Try it, then!” “It might be a bit painful at first, alright?” “Alright, go right ahead, I don’t care!” Zeppeli bent down and reeled back his arm. “Here goes!” “Right!”

Zeppeli thrust his hand into Speedwagon’s stomach, effectively...punching Speedwagon in the stomach. Speedwagon crumbled to the ground, clutching his stomach in pain. “AAaahhhh--!”

Jonathan looked over to the two and walked over, putting a hand on Zeppeli’s shoulder.

“Mr. something wrong?”

“Ah, no, no. I made a bit of a mistake, and my finger slipped. Sorry, Speedwagon.”

Speedwagon uttered a groan in response.

Jonathan perked up and looked towards the lake. Zeppeli peered in the same direction. “Hm? What is it, Jojo?” Jonathan put out an arm, stopping Zeppeli from approaching, and looked at the far edge of the lake.

“Mr. Zeppeli, stay back. I think we might have company…”

Jotaro woke up with a splitting headache. Waking up with his eyes closed, he felt around the lumpy, uncomfortable area he was laying face-down on and flinched at feeling pebbles lodge themselves into his hand.

He picked up his face, rubbing his eyes and blinking a couple of times, vision hazy and blurry, especially in his right eye. In fact, the whole right side of his face really hurt...He managed to open his left eye all the way, but still had to keep the right one closed, as it hurt to open his right eyelid. He pushed himself off the ground and cracked his neck, looking around.

He moved to put his hands in his pockets, and was surprised to find that he still had his outfit on. The classic, school uniform-designed purple coat and white shirt with green stars and pseudo-leopard-print pants. They felt a bit cold, almost like they were in water beforehand and had been drying...He moved to rub his head and found his hat was missing, instead running his hand through the black hair underneath.

He viewed his surroundings. To his right, a cliff. In front of him, a path with a lot of cobblestone, jagged rocks and a dead tree, stripped of its leaves. To his left, a large lake.

...This doesn’t look like Florida, that’s for certain. Ignoring the questions he had within him, Jotaro kept his composure and looked around for his hat, taking a few wobbly steps before balancing himself out and regaining his normal gait.

Hm? His hat’s floating in the lake...Great. It’s too far away for him to reach from the shore. He’ll have to use [ Star Platinum ] .

To any outsider watching, it would look like the hat was pulled out of the water by an invisible, unknown force, placing itself in Jotaro’s hands as if letting him wear it like a crown choosing its king. Of course, all that happened was that he used Star Platinum to grab it out of the water.

He shook it out, trying to get most of the water out, before putting it back on.

“...Yare yare daze...Where the hell am I? This sure doesn’t look like Florida, or the oceans outside Cape Canaveral, for that matter…” He looked around, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. “Hmph. Looks like a clearing…I should probably call for Jolyne and the others to see if they’re alright.”

...It was then Jotaro felt a presence behind him, a flattened hand holding its fingertips to the back of his neck. Orange, ephemeral sparks seemed to flash and flicker around his hand. He barely flinched.

“Sir. My name is Jonathan Joestar. State your name and intents!”

Jotaro sighed. It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it…?

Chapter Text


Joseph clenched his fist, looming over Lisa Lisa, his voice slightly muffled through his hamon training mask.

Lisa Lisa turned to look up at him, holding up the glistening red stone, nestled softly in its golden framework and hung on the necklace chain around her neck.

“That’s right...This red stone must not fall into their hands. My destiny is to protect it!”

Joseph leaned over to try and take a closer look. “H-Hey, don’t put it away yet! Let me see it firs--WHOA!!” Joseph’s entire sentence was stopped as he saw Lisa Lisa about to tuck the red stone of Aja into her cleavage before she shot Joseph a confused look. Joseph blushed and looked away, clearly embarrassed to see such a thing.

“ can just put it back.”

He shook his head and pointed at the stone she was holding before remembering what he wanted.

“N-No! Don’t put it back yet! I...I want you to show me!”

He realized what he just said and leaned in a bit closer. “

Um! T-That’s not what I meant! I mean the stone, master Lisa Lisa!”

...Lisa Lisa simply looked confusedly at Joseph, not really understanding what was up.

Joseph suddenly felt Caesar Zeppeli, his rival and hamon training buddy, shooting daggers into the back of his head with the glare he had for Joseph.

“WAH!” He whipped around, and due to the bulkiness of the breathing regulation mask he had on for hamon training, he hit Caesar square in the face, the recoil hitting him as well. The both of them tumbled to the ground, Caesar holding his nose and jaw and Joseph grabbing his mask with a cry of “OHH NOOO!”

Joseph scooted back, shock turning to annoyance.

“C...Caesar…! Don’t just creep up behind me like that! Guh...Do you have something against me or what?!” Caesar only growled before their hamon master, Lisa Lisa stood up.

“Come on, you two. We’re finished shopping. Allow me to explain about the red stone of Aja on the boat ride back to Air Supplena Island.”

Caesar moved his hand away from his face in shock. “W...Wha…?”

Ermes woke up and the first thing she felt was a serious soreness in both of her elbows. She tried to open her eyes, but had to close them again when the first thing she saw was the sun.

“Uuuggghhh...Oww…” She moved to try and get up, but the harsh pain in both her arms made it a tough job. Nevertheless, she pushed through the pain and pushed herself up to sit up, brushing her dreadlocks out of the way. She put a hand to her neck and was relieved to find that she still had her clothes on, including her patterned armbands, turtleneck sweater, and green jacket-vest hybrid.

Looking around, strangely all she saw was...sea. A large ocean, with a foreboding-looking island off in the distance, floating on the water. She looked down a bit and saw that she was on a rather small-looking boat, looking like it couldn’t hold more than four or five people at the most. Scooting herself along until she reached some guardrails, she managed to stand up, albeit a bit shakily due to the nature of being on a boat and her slightly dazed state of mind.

“Nngghh...Wh...Where the hell am I…?”

She blinked hard a couple of times before turning back around. The boat looked to be docked at a pier, and she could see a couple of buildings on the shore. She squinted and put a hand to her forehead to get a better view.

“...What is this place…? It looks like somethin’ out of a travel brochure for Italy…”

It was then that Ermes suddenly remembered that she wasn’t near Cape Canaveral, Florida, or anywhere even close to the United States. She scrambled out to the outward guardrail of the boat and put her weight on her arms, leaning over as far as she could without falling over. It hurt immensely, and her arms were in no shape to be used like this, but she needed to know…

She needed to know if her friends were alright.


What...happened? Is she in Italy?! Is Pucci still around?! Did...Did he win?!

No. Nooo, nope nope nope. Ermes took a couple of deep breaths.

“Haahhh...Haahhh...Alright, Ermes, girl, calm yourself...things’ll hopefully make sense soon enough.” She looked down at her palm, and was slightly relieved by the sight of [ Kiss ] ’s stickers forming in her hand.

...Hm? She can hear footsteps, coming down from the shore. Three pairs of footsteps...three people! Oh, she bets those’re Jolyne and Anasui, with Jotaro carrying Emporio! It has to be! And, yeah, she just got knocked out after they won!

Ermes put out a hand as she clambered up onto the back of the boat, facing the shore, waving. “Heeeeyy! You bastards scared me, leaving me on this damn boat…! Why didn'tcha wake me up earli--”

...She quickly realized that the footsteps weren’t her friends, and they were instead those of who looked to be a young man with some kind of metal muzzle on that looked like a tricksy type, a similarly young (rather handsome) blonde-haired man that looked like he was quite the casanova, and a woman wearing a black-and-white polka-dot coat over a yellow shirt with large earrings and long hair.

“Ugh, you are such a slimeball, Joseph! Thinking about master Lisa Lisa like that...who do you think you are?!” Caesar pointed an accusatory finger at Joseph, who gestured to himself. “Eeehh?? What’re you talking about?! You can’t read my thoughts!” Caesar crossed his arms, grunting annoyedly. “Hmph. I’ve spent enough time with women to know a look like that when I see it!” “Oh, shut up, you snooty little--”

“Enough, the both of you. It’s imperative you learn about the red stone of Aja’s past so you know how important it is.” Caesar snapped to attention. “Yes, master Lisa Lisa!” “Er--Yeah, what he said, master Lisa Lisa!”

Lisa Lisa didn't have a reaction, as she was staring intently at the woman on their boat, staring at them.

“Caesar! Joseph!” The two of them stumbled over, assuming fighting stances. “Y-Yes, master Lisa Lisa?!”

“It seems that you’re going to have a little pop quiz before your final trial.”

Ermes gulped. It looks like she’s going to have a fight on her hands. Hopefully she’ll come out of it fine, especially with how shot her arms feel…

Chapter Text

“(Aaauughhhh!! N...Nooo!! This is bad! I need to undo my Jotaro disguise, or else I’ll be the one who blows up!)”

Oingo clutched the sides of his head, gritting his teeth. Shit...Shit shit shit! He knew this would happen! His brother’s book predicted it!’s too late! If he tries to tap out now, Polnareff and Joseph would know he’s a fake and they’ll kill him on the spot…!

He looked at the fake orange bomb on the seat next to him, the bomb which he had planted in there in an attempt to try and kill the real Jotaro and his friends.

“(Wait...Th-That’s it! I just need to throw it away! I’ll get rid of this one and plant another one later so the REAL Jotaro will blow up!)”

Quietly, Oingo picked it up and tossed it out the window, letting loose a sigh of relief.

“(I did it…! Phew, that should do it. I’m saved.)”

It was then that he heard Polnareff speaking up.

“Look, Mr. Joestar! It’s Iggy! He’s chasing after our car! He has an orange in his mouth...I wonder if he stole it? Heh, it’ll be a good present for Kakyoin, at least!”

Joseph glanced over while he was driving and saw Iggy, hanging his head and front legs over the edge of the window with an orange--THE orange--in his mouth. Oingo clutched the sides of his head again.


Joseph took the orange out of Iggy’s mouth and looked back to stare at “Jotaro”.

“...‘No’? What’s the matter? I never thought I’d hear you crying out like that...You’re acting strange.” Oingo felt sweat droplets trickle down his face. “N...N...N-No, I-I meant, uh...Di-uh, did you noooo-tice that cow over there? T-That’s all.” Polnareff swiveled around to stare at said cow.

True to Oingo’s word, a cow and its farmer were walking alongside the road, the cow mooing as the car went by.

Polnareff stared at the cow for a bit before looking back to Oingo, clutching the orange Joseph had handed him.

“...Jotaro... mon frere ...You are acting peculiar today. Where is your usual composure? You lack a certain je ne sais quoi . This is just a wild guess, but…”

Oingo gulped.

You’re not a fake, are you?

Oingo took hold of the brim of his hat, molded by [ Khnum ] to match Jotaro’s hat. “G…”

“...Y-Yare yare daze! What are you talking about, Polnareff-san? How far is the hospital? A-Are we there yet? (Th...The dog didn't notice...but I better think of something quick!!)”

As the car drove silently down the streets of Egypt, Polnareff had lit a cigarette. He was just about to blow out a bit of smoke before he felt the pangs of boredom. He turned back around to look at “Jotaro”.

“Hey, Jotaro...Show me that trick again.”

Oingo stared blankly before he realized Polnareff was talking to him.

“Th-That...t-trick…? (W-What is he talking about?!)” “The one you taught me! You know, this?” Polnareff angled the cigarette up and pointed at it. Oingo was at a complete loss. What the hell was Polnareff talking about?!

“...Th...This…?” “Hey! Show me one more time! Come on! Show me how you do it.”

Polnareff began the trick. He wedged the cigarette butt into the area between his bottom front teeth and the inside of his lower lip, slowly angling the lit end into his mouth until he could close his mouth and breathe smoke out of his nostrils. Joseph looked over, impressed.

“Oh, you’ve gotten good at it, Polnareff.” Polnareff snickered, proud of himself. “Heh, heh heh…” Oingo joined in, laughing nervously.

“Oh...Th...T-That! Y-You mean THAT trick! (Thank god, I know how to do that! I-It’s dangerous, but I can pull it off! For a minute, I had no idea what he was talking about…) Y-Yeah, sure, it’s easy.”

“Okay! Do the one with FIVE cigarettes, then!”

Oingo’s breath caught in his throat.

“F... FIIIIIVE?!!!

Polnareff chuckled. “Hahaha, hurry up, I wanna see you do it again!” He was holding the oh-so-unstable orange bomb Oingo had planted, able to be set off with a simple breach of the skin with someone’s thumb. He can’t let that thing explode while he’s in the car!

“(Th...This is BAD! Why does Jotaro have to have so many weird talents?! T-They’re already suspicious of me...I-If I can’t do it, they’ll REALLY think something’s wrong! Polnareff’s about to set off the bomb, too! F...F-Fine! I’ll do it!) Fine! F-Fine, I’ll do five!”

Oingo stuck five cigarettes in his mouth, lighting them all with the lighter Polnareff handed him. Smoke trailed off of the burnt, blackened ends. “...U-Urrgghh…” Joseph looked back to watch, laughing, as did Polnareff. “Awesome! Now do it!”

“(I...I...I...I-I...I-I’m gonna do it!! Fine! I-I’m gonna do it, DAMN IIIIIT! HERE I GOOOOOO!)”

Oingo struggled severely with the five cigarettes at once, them starting to fall and angle in strange directions, while the embers began to burn the roof of his mouth. “H...Hot...Hot...Hooooot!!!”

Finally, he closed his mouth around them, still feeling them burn.

“(F...Fuck yeah! I-I did it! People can do ANYTHING when their life is on the line!)”

Polnareff felt around near his feet, pulling out a clear bottle of fruit juice, snickering. He couldn’t wait to see Jotaro pull this off again! Drinking a whole bottle of juice with five lit cigarettes in his mouth...What can’t that guy do?! As he was pulling it out, however, he saw something on the side of the road. bleu... If he didn't know any better, he’d assume that’s…


Polnareff gripped Joseph’s shoulder with his other hand. “Holy shit! Mr. Joestar, stop the car!”

Joseph slammed on the brakes, startled by Polnareff’s sudden yelling.

The recoil caused Oingo to reflexively swallow a few of the cigarettes in his mouth, the others simply falling and burning the inside of his mouth terribly. He coughed and hacked, spitting them out onto the leg room in front of the seat. He held his throat, yelling and retching. “Gggkkhh--!! AUUUGGHH!! (cough, cough, wheeze) Uggghhh...Hhaaahhhh--M-My throat…! My mouth!!”

Iggy opened his eyes, looking around and barking, annoyed that his sleep was interrupted like this.

Joseph immediately turned back to Jotaro, shocked. “J-Jotaro, are you alright?! OH MY GOD!” He looked back to Polnareff, pointing a finger in his face.

“Polnareff, what’s with the sudden stop?! We’re in a hurry, here! We’re supposed to be meeting Kakyoin at the hospital!”

“Th-Th...There’s a body on the side of the road!”


Joseph opened his mouth in shock. “What?! You made us pull over for that?!”

“Well, yeah, of course! Don’t you want to see if they’re okay?! Maybe they were attacked by one of Dio’s stand users!”

“Polnareff, you don’t know that! For all you know, it could just be a drunk, passed out!”

“We won’t know if we don’t check, will we?”

“...(sigh) Good point.”

Oingo kept holding his throat, coughing and hacking as he held onto the back of Polnareff’s seat for support. Joseph pulled over off into the off-road and got out of the driver’s seat, closing the door behind him. Polnareff followed shortly after, while Oingo stayed in the car, nursing his burnt mouth and throat.

“(Ggghh...W-What the hell was that?! A body on the side of the road?! ...W-Wait…! This could be my chance! I can get out and escape!)” He made a fist pump motion, not noticing that Polnareff had stuck his head into the passenger-seat window, looking at him quizzically.

“...You look rather excited to see a body...I suppose it’s reasonable, especially if it could give us a lead on Dio’s location, but still…Well, anyways, come on out with us.”

“(Urk--!!) R-Right, yeah, coming.”

Oingo came out of the car, still rubbing his throat and silently hoping for his chance to escape, and approached the two other people, standing over...what looked to be a girl in full-body blue overalls and with a green, short haircut so neat it almost looks artificial.

She coughed, and hacked, slowly moving her head up to look at the people staring down at her.

“...(cough, cough)...W...W-W...Water…”

Chapter Text

“Wow…! Awesoooome!!” “I thought it’d be cluttered, but this is way cool!!”

Koichi and Hazamada looked around famous manga artist Rohan Kishibe’s drawing studio, marveling at how surprisingly neat it is. It’s been wild, the past couple weeks in Morioh, but finding out one of your favorite manga artists lives in your neighborhood has to take the cake! Koichi scrambled over to the wall, hung on it many manga panels of Rohan’s famous manga, “Pink Dark Boy”.

“WOW! It’s a hand-drawn original color illustration!” Hazamada scrambled over, fists clenched in excitement. “AAAHHH!! A-Amazing! It’s got so much more impact!” He began to tear up, and his bandaged nose began to run. “...I-I’m moved to tears…! I’m so glad I caaaaame!”

Koichi walked over to Rohan, heart still pounding at seeing his idol in the flesh. “I do have one question...When did you come to live in Morioh-Cho?”

Rohan smiled. “I moved here 3 months ago. My hometown is S City, so I actually grew up living here. Tokyo is convenient, but it’s really crowded, you know? It’s much easier to get my work done in a relaxing place like Morioh-Cho.”

He walked over to the fax machine and copier. “And, with the newest developments in copiers and fax machines, there’s a system in place so it takes less than four hours to send flawless copies of my manuscripts from Morioh-Cho to the bookstores of Tokyo. It’s gotten to the point where there’s no real reason to live in central Japan anymore.”

Hazamada sniffled and composed himself. “Um, excuse me...Where do your assistants and other staff members work?”

Rohan walked to one of the windows and peeked through the blinds, sunlight streaming out.

“I don’t have any. I work alone.”

The two high schoolers reacted with violent shock. “WHAT?! A-ALL BY YOURSELF?!!” “You can do 19 pages each week with such detailed artwork?! I-I can’t believe it! You even apply the screentones and do white corrections yourself?!”

Rohan sat on the windowsill. “It only takes 4 days. 5 days, if it’s in color. The rest of the time, I spend travelling. I chose this job because I don’t like dealing with people. It’d probably be harder for me if I had assistants than without.”

Koichi had his mouth agape in shock. “That’s really surprising...W-Wow!” Hazamada was crying again, a giant grin on his face. “You’re a geniuuuus!!”

“Hm. Excuse me.” Rohan got up and leaned towards Hazamada, picking off a spider from his shoulder. He held it in his fingers delicately as he walked over to his bookshelf, plucking off a magnifying glass and inspecting it closely. “Just what I’d expect from the outskirts. Lots of bugs and spiders out here.” He bent down and cracked open a spider encyclopedia, flipping through until he found the spider he was looking for as the two watched in awe.

“I see...this spider is ‘Araneus Ventricosus’ , A.K.A. the devil spider. It says here that this orb-weaving spider is found all across Japan, from mountains to people’s homes.”

He looked over his shoulder.

“...By the way. You wouldn’t happen to know the secret to writing interesting manga, would you?”

Koichi and Hazamada both straightened up and shook their heads “no”.

“It’s REALITY! REALITY is the lifeblood that makes a work pulse with energy! REALITY itself is entertainment! You might think manga draws from inspiration and fantasy, but that’s wrong! To write something interesting, you have to write what you’ve seen, what you’ve done, what you’ve experienced!”

The two short schoolmates stared at him, confused. “Huh…?”

Rohan scrutinized the spider with a magnifying glass. “For example, your typical city-dweller would just think ‘Gross!’ and crush a spider like this to death. But how it moves its legs, where to find its eyes, what the differences between a male and a female are--if a mangaka wants to draw a spider, he needs to know these things!”

Rohan grabbed an X-Acto knife from the bookshelf and dug it into the spider’s abdomen, wound-up thread spurting out.

“What happens when the spider’s thread is first exposed to air? Where the thread is extruded?”

Koichi and Hazamada stared at the scene in front of them, partly impressed and partly horrified. “Ah…!”

The manga artist dug the knife into the abdomen, causing guts and thread to spew out gorily.

“How are its internal organs arranged…?” Finally, he stabbed it straight through, holding it up for the two guests to see as it twitched and spasmed in pain.

“How much does it suffer before death when its belly is sliced open…? To achieve REALITY , you need to know these things!”

Koichi and Hazamada stepped back, now simply horrified at this display of what looked like psychopathy. “Urk…! Th...T-That’s cruelty!!”

Rohan snapped at the two. “CRUELTY?! How DARE an amateur like yourself criticize the great ROHAN KISHIBE?!”

Koichi gulped. “Er, n-no...No, I didn't mean to criticize. Excuse me.”

Rohan turned his attention back to the spider. “...How does it taste …?”

And he licked the entire length of the spider, getting as much guts and thread as he could.

Hazamada slapped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop the vomit gushing out from leaving his mouth, and Koichi felt sick to his stomach, himself.

“(I’ve got a bad feeling about this...This guy might be really dangerous! I-I wanna go home…! It’s just like the stereotype! Anyone employed as a professional mangaka...)”

Rohan watched as the thread stuck to his tongue and made a string from it to the spider’s corpse. “I see. So spiders taste like this...The next time I draw a spider, I’ll be able to get that much closer to reality.”

“(...A-Anyone employed as a professional mangaka is definitely eccentric! )”

Hazamada kept horking and heaving, trying not to throw up on Rohan’s floor. “Hurk! Urrggkkh! Ggghhh!!” The eccentric mangaka watched him do so, and was struck with inspiration, pawing to grab a large sketchpad.

“Hm...Yes, that feeling of suffering! Your face as you puke will make a good reference. I’ll sketch it!”

Hazamada managed to stop as soon as he said that. “...R...R-Really?” Trying as hard as he could, he tried to recreate the face he was making while puking. Rohan sighed.

“Hmph. Now you’re just faking. Whatever...I won’t stand for fakeness like that. It won’t make for a good final product.” “S-Sorry…”

Rohan walked away, putting down his sketchpad and walking to the door. “You wanted my autograph, right? I’ll grab a marker from the kitchen. While I’m there, I guess it’d be rude not to offer refreshments to my guests, so I’ll make some tea.” Hazamada waved his hand. “O-Oh, please don’t trouble yourself on our account.”

As Rohan closed the door, Hazamada resumed talking, now to Koichi. “...But, wow! I-I never thought it was because he went to those lengths that ‘Pink Dark Boy’ is such a good manga!”

Koichi leaned over to Hazamada and shakily whispered to him.”U-Um, hey, Hazamada-san…? I know we just arrived, but, um...d-don’t you think we should be leaving soon?”

“What? You wanna go home? Why? Isn’t it interesting, being able to talk about stuff?”

“Well, I don’t have a specific reason, per se...if I had to pinpoint it, I’d say it’s my intuition. I-It’s just a feeling…” Koichi looked at the door.

“I have this feeling, right now, that Rohan-sensei is extremely dangerous.”

Hazamada leaned in closer. “Extremely...dangerous? You don’t mean ‘stand user’, do you?”

“N-No, I didn't mean to imply...I-It’s something else.”

Hazamada wrapped an arm around Koichi and smiled. “Listen up, Koichi-kun! Even if you ask me, I’ve got no idea how many stand users there are here in Morioh-Cho! But, just because Rohan-sensei is a little weird doesn’t mean he’s gotta be one of them!” “I-I never said he was…! I just have a bad feeling.”

Hazamada smiled.

“And anyway! Even if Rohan-sensei was a stand user, I’d be happy about it!” Koichi blinked. “Huh?” “It’d mean that even a famous mangaka like him and little ol’ me have something in common!”

Koichi stared at him. “Something in common...I-I see. I guess you could look at it that way…”

Hazamada leaned in a bit closer and whispered. “But, yeah, I get what you’re sayin’. If you’ve got a bad feeling about this, then maybe we should stop for today. We can always come back another time.” “R-Really?”

Hazamada pointed at the drawing desk that belonged to the eccentric mangaka.

“But something’s been bothering me, ever since I saw that .”

“... That ? What do you mean by that ?”

“Man, you’re slow, Koichi-kun! On the desk over near the phone! Look closely…!”

True to Hazamada’s word, near the phone on the desk was a thick manila envelope, filled up with...paper. Koichi leaped forward with excitement. “Ah! C-Could it be?! I can just barely see the illustration paper peeking out of that envelope…!” “That’s right! Didn't he say ‘I’ve already finished my work for today’?! Ever since then, I’ve kept my eyes glued on this baby! Could it be...a complete, hand-drawn manuscript for the newest PINK DARK BOY?!”

Hazamada stepped forward to take the envelope, but stopped when he heard the sound of paper crunching underneath his feet. “...Hm?” He stepped back and lifted up his leg, trying to see what was on it. “Huh? Do I have a piece of toilet paper stuck to my shoe again?” Koichi hurried over. “What? What’re you talking about, Hazamada-san…?”

Hazamada peeled it off of the bottom of his shoe, and while it was a bit crumpled, it was definitely interesting. It was...

...a piece of paper in the shape of a face, with two holes cut out for the eyes.

Hazamada brushed off some of the debris that had gotten on it from his shoe and held it with both hands, Koichi peeking over his shoulder.

“What is this thing? It looks like a page from a book, but it’s in the shape of a face…”

Koichi pointed a finger at a few lines.

“Look at this! It must be a biography! ...Hm...Domenico Pucci...changed his name to Wes amnesia…!! H-Hazamada, look! It says here he has a stand, ‘Weather Report’, that can control the weather!”

Hazamada leaned over to Koichi, smiling. “Oi, Koichi-kun, you don’t think…? Could this be a NEW STORY Rohan-sensei has yet to unveil to the public?!” Koichi shot a look at him. “W-What? What gives you that idea?” “You had a suspicion Rohan-sensei was a stand user, right? Well, here he is, writing about it! Either he’s a stand user, or he knows one! Like, an ‘in’ with the stand users of Morioh-Cho! But...hmmm, I wonder what’s up with the page shape. Rohan-sensei is an eccentric, but I never figured he’d write on this kinda paper…”

Koichi felt sick to his stomach again. “I-I dunno...I still have a really bad feeling, Hazamada-san. Let’s just look at the manuscript and go home, please?” Hazamada looked at Koichi and sighed, setting the face-paper on the desk next to the manuscript envelope. “Fine. Let’s do this!”

Rohan stood outside the room, listening and watching as the two high schoolers looked at the face-shaped paper and were about to view the manuscript. Inside, he felt some relief that they were too preoccupied with the manuscript to figure out the truth about [ Heaven’s Door ] , and he grinned as the two slowly slid the pack of papers out of the envelope…

...In Rohan Kishibe’s bathroom, a man with a fluffy white hat and a missing face was laid, face-up in the tub, unconscious.

Chapter Text

“[Now, here are your orders! Your next destination will be the island of San Giorgio Maggiore! This island contains nothing but a lone church. And that church contains a lone belfry! You shall be taking my daughter to the top of the belfry ! Your mission will conclude once you bring my daughter to the top of the belfry !

Order 1: Ascend the belfry not by the stairs, but by the one elevator installed in the building. Trish and one escort must be the only ones to ascend!

Order 2: The escort must not bring any knives, guns, mobile phones, or any other object!

Order 3: You must reach the island within 15 minutes of acquiring the disc! The disc is equipped with a tracking device, and I will have already detected its movement.

Order 4: The remaining members are to wait on the boat. They are not to set foot on the island!]”

Buccellati and the rest of his gang slowly approached the island of San Giorgio Maggiore, along with Coco Jambo, the turtle whose stand, [ Mr. President ] , allowed for easy transportation of multiple people.

Narancia brushed back his hair and squinted up at the top of the tower, at the belfry. “The top of that, the boss is in there, huh?”

Fugo looked up as well. “He’s very cautious...But that’s exactly why he’s the boss of the gang.”

Abbacchio nodded. “Anyway, this is how our mission ends, and with all of us safe and sound, too. Not so bad, huh?”

Mista rested his cheek on his fist, annoyed. “Even so...I’m beat as hell. Why don’t we stick around for a few days and have some fun in Venezia before heading back? I know it can’t beat the taste of home, but I’ve heard good things about the food here!”

Narancia shifted his attention away from the belfry to talk to Mista. “They really got good food?” His stomach growled. “I-I just realized how hungry I am! What’s there to eat? C’mon, tell me!” “Well, the pizza ain’t no good, but they’ve got spaghetti al nero di seppia and horsehair crab salad, and if you want meat, they say the Hotel Cipriani’s carpaccio is out of this world!” Fugo leaned over Mista’s shoulder. “We haven’t had any real food to eat in two whole days...I’d like to drink some wine out of a real Venetian glass.”

Buccellati broke up all the food talk with a shout. “Narancia! Keep watching the radar! And the rest of you better not let up just yet either!”

...Trish watched as the tension became thick enough to cut with a knife, as Giorno Giovanna stood up and spoke.

“Buccellati, I volunteer to escort Trish...I shall take her to the top of the belfry.”

Abbacchio strutted up behind Giorno and talked straight into his ear. “What the hell do you think you’re saying? A rookie like you ain’t worthy of escorting her!”

“...The boss never said who had to take her up. The mission is as good as done. If all we need to do is bring her up there, then I can--” “ Why would ANYONE else but our officer, BUCCELLATI, take her up there, you STUPID BITCH? The boss never gave a name because he DIDN'T KNOW WHO WOULD MAKE IT HERE!

Giorno completely ignored the screaming from the platinum blonde, looking to Buccellati for an answer. And answer Buccellati did.

“I’ll go. It’s only natural. Step onto the island, Trish. Only you and me, as ordered.”

Buccellati could almost feel Giorno’s thought process as he shot a glare to Buccellati.

“(I know, Giorno...I know! If we want to learn even a little about the boss’ identity...this is our chance! I’m not here just to escort Trish, I just need to get something ...even the slightest lead …)”

He turned to Giorno. “...Oh, right! Giorno, would you mind giving me a lucky charm? You know, as a prayer for success on our final task. Ladybugs are ‘beetles of the sun’, and symbolize life, isn’t that right?” He lowered his head, still staring at Giorno. “And you wear those brooches as lucky charms , right?”

Giorno gently readjusted the position of the turtle in his hands.

“Or, am I wrong, Giorno?”

“...Not at all, sir, you’re exactly right. The ladybug is a beetle of the sun. They are harbingers of good fortune.” Giorno reached his hand to one of the ladybug brooches adorning his modified school uniform, taking it off and placing it in Buccellati’s hand. As he looked down at it, he could see it slowly gain life.

“( [ Gold Experience ] ’s ability...He used it to give life to the ladybug brooch. He’s making this brooch into a sensor, and if I can put it on the boss, Giorno will be able to sense his location. All I can do for now is pin down his identity , but one day…)”

With that, Buccellati escorted Trish off of the small, cramped boat and up the stairs to the entrance to the San Giorgio Maggiore bell tower.

“I dunno, I think it’s kinda cute! Maybe we should name it…? I vote...Snoop! ‘Cause I like Snoop Dogg!!” Narancia gently pet Coco Jambo’s head with his index finger.

See, when Coco Jambo was recovered at the Napoli Train Station, nobody bothered to give him a name. The truth is, his previous owner named him Coco Jambo, but since nobody knows that but the turtle, the gang is discussing what to name it while they wait for Buccellati to return. Giorno was standing up, foot up on the helm of the boat, resting a laptop on his knee with a floor plan of the bell tower and the area around it.

Mista had Coco Jambo resting softly on his knee, staring at it. “Y’know, I’ve seen a lotta crazy shit on this job, but a turtle with a whole room inside it takes the cake so far. It’s still hard to believe, even if we’ve been using this thing for a long while now. As for the name? I’m thinkin’...Stefani. It looks like a Stefani to me.”

Fugo looked up from the mystery novel he was reading. “Wouldn’t it do you two better to actually see what gender the turtle is before you come up with a name?”

Narancia snapped his fingers. “Oh! Heheh, yeah, thanks Fugo!” He took hold of the turtle before thinking for a second.

“(...W-Wait, doesn’t that mean I’ll have to look at its…?)” Gulp.

“U-Uh, I...I feel sick! M-Mista, you look!” He tossed Coco to Mista, who caught it. “Wh--Huh?! Why me, huh?! Why can’t you do it? I don’t wanna look at what a turtle has ‘down there’! Hey, Fugo--” Mista turned to ask Fugo, but he already had his nose buried in his book.

“(Damn...and Giorno’s too busy tracking Buccellati to do anything...Hm?)” He looked at Abbacchio, who had just been looking out at the sea with his arms crossed, frowning. He got up and tapped Abbacchio on the shoulder, holding out the turtle. “Uh, hey? Abbacchio, bud? Can you, uh, check out this turtle’s junk and see what gender it is?” Abbacchio responded with a sneering look at Mista before sighing. “Fine.”

Abbacchio sat down on the boat and looked at the turtle, Mista and Narancia looking over his shoulders. Despite clearly wanting to see, they shielded their eyes from the actual act.

...Abbacchio looked into the red window on top of Coco Jambo and saw something strange.

There’s...someone in the turtle…!

Abbacchio reacted with a bit of shock, gasping through his nose. Narancia clenched his fists. “What, what is it already?! Tell meee!” Abbacchio pulled the two in close and whispered to them.

“(You two need to go into the turtle, now. There’s someone in there.)” “(Wait, what?! But, we weren’t being trailed, Giorno didn't pick up anything, and we’re the only people here…Are you sure you ain’t playin’ tricks on us because we made you look at turtle junk, Abbacchio?)” “(Yes, I’m sure! Just get in there, already. If word gets out that we’ve been compromised by La Squadra , the entire mission’s going to fall apart! I need you to neutralize the threat as quickly as possible!)”

Narancia and Mista nodded at each other. “(Gotcha!)” “(Yup, gotcha Abbacchio.)” Abbacchio put down the turtle and stepped back, Narancia and Mista approaching it and being transported to the room inside.

Fugo looked up from his book at Abbacchio, then around the rest of the boat. “Where’s Mista and Narancia?” Giorno glanced back as well. Abbacchio crossed his arms. “They went to get some drinks from the fridge in the turtle.” The two of them looked at him for a while before shrugging and going back to their respective activities.

Mista and Narancia looked around the inside of Mr. President ’s pocket dimension. Well, they looked once and immediately saw what they were looking for.

Lounging on the couch like nothing was wrong, was a man with long pink hair, a small pillbox-like hat on his head, a fishnet top with footprint markings, very tall white boots ending in latticework at the tops of the thighs and a simple black thong mostly covered up by a brown, skirt-like piece of clothing. He was laid down, one leg on the couch and one off, one hand holding the remote and flicking through channels as his other hand was draped behind the couch.

Mista silently gestured for Narancia to come forward, and the two slowly, quietly crept up to the man, Mista gently moving the signature purple revolver he had to aim straight at the back of the man’s head. Before he could shoot, however, the man began to speak.

“Don’t even bother. [ Diver Down ] has already dismantled your gun from the inside out.”

And just like that, Mista’s revolver completely fell apart into dozens of pieces, clattering to the floor until he was left holding the handle and nothing else. He recoiled back, dropping the handle in the process. “Urk--! Uh, okay, buddy, maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. How about, uh, you tell me your name, first?”

The man turned around, smiling.

“I’m not sure what it would matter to you, but my name is Narciso Anasui. I’m a convict from Florida. Do you know a woman named ‘Jolyne Cujoh’?”

Chapter Text

...As Emporio was momentarily lost in thought about his friends, he suddenly noticed a figure sliding up into one of the open doors. A tall man with dark skin and white hair, in...priest’s robes.

It’s Pucci.

“Due to ‘accelerated time’, the final destination of time is achieved! The universe after a full cycle!”

With a deadly look in his eyes, Pucci stepped forward and shoved the Jolyne look-alike out of his way, taking long strides towards Emporio.

“...But! I can’t let my past interferences into the beginning of this ‘New Dawn’!”

The faux Jolyne was pushed away, bumping into her father on the way. “Wh-What? Who are you?!”

Emporio’s voice was already hoarse from screaming, but he had no idea what else to do.


“Jolyne Cujoh is no longer alive! Not even her soul! Jotaro is gone, as well! And Anasui, and Ermes…! The dead can not return! I’ve left all the obstacles to my fate in the ‘other world’!”

Pucci brought out Made In Heaven , screaming.

“All of them except for YOU, EMPORIO! You were not supposed to come here! You must be eliminated, right here, right now!”

Emporio retreated back into his crack in the wall, falling out onto the floor on the other side. “AAAUUUGHHHH!!!” Pucci simply opened the door from the other side and stared down at Emporio, a look of disdain apparent on his face.

“Let’s say that you are going to try and hide in your room. The secret room you used to hide in, in the ‘old world’. The fact that you are going to retreat there had already been ‘decided’, because it is DESTINY! DESTINY is brought on by certainty, not by chance!”

“Ugghh...A-Aaahhh…! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” Emporio practically leapt off of the floor into the crack in the wall, using Burning Down The House to blindly traverse the prison walls until he popped out, bumping into a guard’s leg. “Ah--!”

The two guards in the hallway, including the one that Emporio had bumped into, stopped what they were doing and looked down at him, confused. “...Hey, it’s a kid.” “There’s a kid here…? Why? How’d he get in, and why is there a kid in a prison?”

It was then Emporio felt something...a gut feeling, albeit an unnaturally strong one. He stared at the guard’s boots.

“(H...He’s going to trip…! Those boots...what are these strange predictions…?! This guard, if he decides to come over here, he’s going to slip on those files and fall! He’ll step on those papers and fall over!)”

The guard’s co-worker felt the same, unnaturally strong gut feeling.

“(...Hall? He...He’s going to trip, here...but why would I suddenly think that way…?)”

And even Hall, the guard himself, felt that exact feeling.

“(H-Huh…? I...Am I going to step on some papers and trip? No...of course not! Be careful! It’s just me telling myself to be careful not to step on anything and trip!)”

Emporio quickly pulled himself up and scrambled away, the guards starting to run and yell after him. “Wh--H-HEY! CATCH THAT KID!” Before the kid could even get to the end of the hallway, however, Pucci was already there, staring him down.

“F-Father Pucci! What’re you d--!” The guard was interrupted by Emporio franticly sprinting the other way, through and around the two guards’ legs, shrieking. Along the way, Emporio ended up knocking over the guard named Hall by tripping up one of his legs. Pucci followed swiftly after.

“After a full revolution of time, a ‘new world’ has appeared! Destiny will repeat itself! When a human meets another human, it is because of GRAVITY! It happens because it was fated to be that way! And now, humanity has experienced the future, and has now arrived at the ‘new world’!

For example, five years from now, what could happen? Everyone knows what will happen now. During the ‘accelerated time’, they experienced when every accident and every illness they would experience would happen, and even when their life would end...They already experienced it before arriving here!

When will one meet another...and when will they separate? Who will one love, and who will one hate?! What kind of child will one bear, and what kind of person will they become?! Who will commit crimes and who will invent or create works of beauty?! The spirit, not the mind nor the body, has already experienced and memorized those facts!

THAT is HAPPINESS! Not just one person, but EVERYONE will be able to face their DESTINY! The ones who are able to face this are the ones who will be HAPPY!

You might think that knowing the ill fortunes of the future is despair, but...It’s the opposite! Even if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, it is that RESOLUTION that makes one happy! One’s RESOLUTION eradicates DESPAIR!

Humanity will CHANGE!



AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! ” Emporio managed to use his stand to slip through another crack in the wall, ending up in another hallway that was, sadly, not too far away from the demented pursuing priest. But, he recognized this area.

“If...If I turn right at this corner, there are stairs...a-and my ‘ghost room’ is there! Ugghh...Uhh…Pucci already knows about that room! I...I-I can’t go right! LEFT! I-I need to go left, and...a-and look for somewhere else to hide!”

He unbuttoned his baseball shirt, trying to search for the gun that he had taken from the ghost room and used in the fight against Pucci. All that came out was a book, a tape measure, and a lighter...The battle against Pucci…!


Emporio whipped around, starting to run, but ended up smacking his face on a mop that had been left upright, blood spurting from his nose as he tumbled backwards.

Wincing and still somewhat hazy from the impact, he opened his eyes and saw Pucci, looming over him. He crawled back on his hands, forgetting that directly behind him was the staircase leading to…

“WAAAHHHH!!!” The crack to his ghost room was right there...destiny had brought him here once again, just as Pucci had said!

“Even if small details go astray, there is no way one can defeat fate. It is inevitable. It will happen no matter what. I am the only exception.”


“If I let you escape here, and I lose track of where you are, then you will most likely grow, and try to defeat me. That is the DESTINED FUTURE! I can’t let you live! Even without Jolyne, you are still fated to leave this prison and disappear at Cape Canaveral.”

Emporio coughed and panted, tears running down his face.

“Here, in the prison, before I ‘sped up time’, I would know exactly where you are...The only way to defeat my past destiny is to dispose of you here! That’s why I stopped the passing of time here, right now!”

Pucci looked down on Emporio in the same way a god would look at a heretic.

“You have no choice BUT to hide inside that space in the wall! Make your resolution! Your resolution will only lead to happiness, Emporio!” Emporio slowly slid himself back, putting his back to the aforementioned wall, as Pucci reared up a punch with Made In Heaven .


As Pucci thrust his fist forward, Emporio disappeared into the crack on the wall, Pucci following in immediately after.

...But something happened.

As Pucci’s fist made contact with Emporio, what he felt wasn’t the cracking of bones.

It was a CD, clicking into its slot.

...And the next thing he saw was Emporio, down on the floor of the ghost room, with Weather Report’s stand disc in his head. Wisps of clouds began to circulate around the room as Emporio began to stand up.

“‘Destiny is predetermined, and can’t be changed…’ If that’s so...then, I could just make you change it for me…”

Emporio pushed up the brim of his hat, as a familiar figure began to form behind him.

“Your arm pushed it in, back when I was in between the wall…”

Finally, all was visible, most especially [ Weather Report ] standing over the young boy with its hand on its hip.

Emporio pointed a finger.

“Weather Report’s ‘stand ability’ that he turned into a disc before you killed him! The disc that Jolyne gave me, the one she told me to keep!!

Chapter Text

“Yare yare daze...If you think I have any patience for you noble types, you’d be dead wrong. Kujo Jotaro. I just woke up here on the side of the lake.” Jotaro pulled his hat down to cover his eyes, sighing.

“Yare yare…? Hm, you must be from the orient...Do you have any affiliation with Dio?”

Jotaro gently tilted his head forward, annoyed by the slight fizzling sensation he felt on the back of his neck from Jonathan’s hamon-infused hand. He clenched his fists.

“Dio? Don’t tell me...that bastard’s still alive in this era?”

Jonathan put down his hand, nodding. “I see...You don’t seem to be a bad person.” Jotaro whipped around, hands in his pockets as he stared Jonathan down, being exactly eye-level with him. Wow, he’s buff.

“Damn straight. I hate Dio more than that damn gramps of mine. Now, would you mind telling me where the hell I am? This sure doesn’t look like Florida, or Japan for that matter.”

“Florida? That place was only founded about half a century ago, and you don’t look like any Americans I’ve seen…” Jonathan gasped.

“Ah! Where are my manners? My name is Jonathan Joestar, noble descendant of George Joestar! I am on a mission to defeat my evil-hearted brother, Dio! You can call me Jojo.”

Zeppeli walked over as well, hands on his hips. “This is my hamon training master, William A. Zeppeli.” “ Ciao , Mr. Jotaro. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And over there on the ground is my good friend, Robert E. O. Speedwagon!” Speedwagon groaned, just managing to get up and recover from that punch to the gut.

Jotaro nodded, keeping that steely face of his. “Hm. Yeah, whatever. Now could you answer my question? Though, I can probably wager a guess just based on what you sound like.”

Jonathan nodded. “Ah, yes! My apologies. You’re in England!” Jotaro sighed, shaking his head. “Yare yare the hell’d I end up here? Is it still 2011?”

Zeppeli raised his eyebrows. “My goodness, Mr. Jotaro. You must be some sort of time traveler, or if not, then some kind of psychopath...It’s nowhere near then! It is currently 1888.”

Jotaro stared at the two of them for a long while after that.

“...1888? Huh. Guess that means no cell signal or anything, then…And you said your name was Jonathan Joestar?” Jonathan was a bit dazed from the shock of seeing someone from 2011, but quickly snapped out of it, shaking his head. “O-Oh! Yes, Mr. Jotaro!” “Hm. Guess I really am in the past...back in the 1980s, me, gramps, and a couple of friends fought against Dio, too. Gramps did say something about him taking your body...or something like that. I wasn’t listening very carefully.”

Jonathan’s jaw dropped. “Dio’s going to...take my body? What does that me--”

As usual, the interrupting Speedwagon did what he did best and interrupted.

“Oi! Zeppeliii, you damn bastard, you just punched me in the stomach…! Ah! Oi, who’s this?” “Speedwagon, this is our new friend, Mr. Kujo Jotaro, from the orient! ...Or, possibly the United States…? Where are you from, Mr. Jotaro?” “Japan.” “Japan! Thank you.”

Speedwagon stepped forward and looked Jotaro over, occasionally looking closer at the strange, brightly colored and heavily patterned clothes he had on. “...Hmph, I dunno about this guy! I’ve sniffed out a lotta bad eggs in my time, but this guy...I can’t tell anything about him! Is this how they dress in the orient or something?” “No, this is just how I dress. And get the hell away from me, you’re bugging me.”

Speedwagon stood back up and stepped back, arms crossed.

“I wouldn’t trust this guy, Mr. Joestar! He smells fishy!” Jonathan looked to Speedwagon, confused. “...Huh? What do you mean, Speedwagon?”

“I mean he smells like he’s been in the ocean for a couple of hours! He needs to take a bath, already!” Jotaro grit his teeth and frowned as Zeppeli and Jonathan laughed at the less-than stellar joke.

“(Is this really what people are like in the 19th century? ...I see not much has changed.)”

Jonathan shook his head. “Well, nevertheless, it’s too dangerous to go into the town right now. Dio’s still around, after all, and…!!” “Jojo, look!”

He was interrupted, this time by Zeppeli directing him to the sight of a young boy swooping down on a rope tied to the cliff Jotaro was on, him flying back and latching onto the side of the cliff...with Speedwagon’s briefcase in tow!

“Heheheh! Seeya later, chumps!” Jotaro looked up at the boy slowly climbing up the cliff and grunted. “Hmph. Do you want me to teach that brat a lesson about not taking people’s things?” Zeppeli put a hand on his shoulder. “ Non, non . That’s not necessary, Mr. Jotaro. Watch and learn.” He looked over to Jonathan. “Jojo! You know what to do!” “Right, Mr. Zeppeli!”

Stepping forward, Jonathan quickly struck the cliffside with the back of his hand, creating a loud, vibrating gong-like noise. Zeppeli put a hand behind his ear, listening. “Hmmm, that’s a nice sound, Jojo. I see you’ve got the overdrive down right.” Jonathan nodded. “It should be alright down here.” “No, two meters to the left would probably have been better.”

Jotaro just stared at the two of them, standing next to Speedwagon. He pointed a finger at the two of them and looked at Speedwagon. “What the hell are they doing?”

“Rude! How rude of you, Mr. Jotaro! So presumptuous of you to say that, when you don’t even know what hamon is!” He quirked an eyebrow. “...Hamon?” He remembers gramps saying something about hamon...what was it…? That it was taught to him? Whatever. It probably isn’t important.

The kid on the cliff laughed nasally. “So you’re not following? Hah! This is why it’s so easy to steal from travelers, fools!” When the kid looked back to the cliff, however, he saw vibrant orange and yellow sparks emanating from it, and immediately felt his grip loosen, as if a gallon of cooking oil had been poured on it beforehand. “Wha?!” And, as expected, he began to tumble to the ground. “IT CAME LOOOOOSE!”

Jotaro put out his hands, looking up as the child fell right into his arms. “Hmm?!” Zeppeli clapped softly. “Ooh, nice catch, Mr. Jotaro!” “...Uh, thanks.” Jotaro looked down at the boy in his arms and stared at him, as the boy twitched and writhed, eyes glowing yellow. “GWAAAHH!!” After a few more seconds of writhing, the boy blinked his eyes a few times, them returning to their usual colors. “Hm? What the hell…? Something’s up with this brat.” The kid looked up at Jotaro, confused. “...Who...Who are you…?”

“Mr. Jotaro! It’s not just the child that’s strange! Look around you!”

Jotaro followed Zeppeli’s orders, looking around and noticing all of the strange gravestones that appear to have suddenly appeared. “Hrk--! What the hell is this?”

Suddenly, he felt a hand grip around his ankle, the arm seemingly...growing out of the ground, like a...a…zombie! Arms sprouted out of the soil all around the four, gripping at their ankles to keep them firmly in place. They had been tricked into walking into a graveyard!

“It seems like we were the ones who were nicely caught! That boy must have been hypnotized!”

Jonathan tried to move his ankles, but stopped once he saw someone standing atop the cliff. Someone with blonde hair...someone familiar!

“Jotaro, Zeppeli, Speedwagon! Look!”

Jotaro and Jonathan both had the exact same thought.


Dio stared down at the four, with that malevolent, smug grin on his face as his blonde locks of hair billowed in the cold winds of the night.

“Night has is time for you to die!”

Chapter Text

“Drive that woman away from our boat, using all of the skills you have learned!” Lisa Lisa thrust her hand forward, gesturing for the two disciples of hers to move out.

“Yes, master Lisa Lisa!” “Alriiight! It’s about time we got some real fighting in!” The two began to sprint full speed towards the boat as Ermes scrambled back behind the boat’s front, grasping around to try and find something to use.

“(Urk--! What the hell?! Those aren’t my friends! They’re just some weirdos who wanna attack me! But then, does that mean…?)” She shook her head. “(No! No, I’m sure they’re all alright! Let’s do this!)”

She finally managed to grab a circular life preserver off of the boat’s deck, putting out her palm to create a number of Kiss ’ stickers. “ Kiss ! Duplicate this life preserver!” Caesar managed to hop over the deck just in time to see one life preserver split into two, eyes popping and mouth opening in shock.

“Wh-What?! Either my eyes must be playing tricks on me, or…?!” Being so shocked at this display of what seemed like an impossibility, Caesar neglected to attack, Ermes taking the opportunity to chuck the duplicated life preserver at Caesar. She held her elbow, wincing and wobbling on her feet. “D-Dammit, that hurt…!”

Caesar tilted his head to the left, the life preserver flying straight past, only barely clipping his ear. He smiled. “You know, I’m not one to ever disrespect a woman, but that was a lousy throw! You completely missed!”

Ermes looked up, smiling as she took hold of the sticker on the life preserver still sitting next to her.

“Oh, did I?”

With one well-placed rip of the sticker, the life preserver, seemingly on its own, was sent soaring through the air, straight at Caesar. He gasped. “Urk--T-This power…! What is this ability?! It can’t be hamon, can it?!” He put out his hands, trying to make a hamon bubble shield in front of him to shred the life preserver to pieces, when he heard his master yelling from behind.

“Caesar! Behind you!”

Suddenly, he felt a great force hit him straight from behind, knocking the wind out of his sails as the life preserver Ermes had thrown collided with him. Even worse, the life preserver he had been intending to stop with the hamon bubbles had gone through all of them, albeit with many major cuts and gashes, foam partially pouring out.

The two life buoys put an immense amount of pressure onto Caesar’s torso, causing him to cough up a little blood, before the two suddenly combined into one, taking up the space available to form back into one rather damaged life preserver, put tightly around Caesar’s chest.

“Gghgkrrk--!! D...D-Dammit…! I-I...can’t breathe like this! My hamon won’t be at its best!” Caesar put his hands on the sides of the life buoy around his chest, trying to take deep breaths as he moved himself against the side of the boat for support.

“Grr...t-this life buoy isn’t conducting hamon…I-I can’t…!”

Ermes pumped her fist, grinning. “Haha, yeah! In your face, pretty boy! Not so tough in the face of my Kiss , are you?!”

“Clacker Volley!”

Suddenly, Ermes felt her legs being tied together, along with a distinct clacking noise. She moved to try and get her ankles out of it, but only ended up making her fall flat onto her face. She did put out her hands to try and cushion her fall, but the pain in her arms made them buckle and give out, landing her right on her face. “Gghgh--!! Fuck! I forgot about…!”

Joseph peeked his head up over the boat’s railing, appearing to be standing where there should be nothing but water. “Looking for me~?” He took hold of the railing and hoisted himself up and over it, walking over to Ermes and landing his foot on her back, grinding it in.

“Heheheh! Sounds like someone got a bit carried away with their self-confidence! And you know I’m all for teasing serious ol’ Caesar, but it’s a shame I didn't get to see you ‘kiss’ Caesar! Can you do it again, so I can see? Maybe give one to me? Eh, eh?”

Caesar clenched his fists, giving up on trying to use hamon and instead trying to slide the life buoy around his chest down to his waist and off through his legs. “(Ugh... Mamma mia , this thing is on tight…) J-Joseph! You confident fool! Don’t underestimate her, she has a strange duplication ability!” Ermes grunted.
“Duplication? Pff, heh, I’ve seen a magic trick or two in my time! Nobody can fool me with that same ol’ ‘duplicating objects’ trick!” Joseph snickered, his arms crossed.

Ermes opened her palm.

“So...You’ve seen a lot of magic tricks, huh…? I’d like to see you figure out how THIS is done!”

In one swift motion, she peeled off a sticker from her palm and slapped it down on the boat’s floor.

The entire boat shook, and another whole boat melted out of the first one, making large waves in the water and splashing some onto the shore from the displacement.

Lisa Lisa, who had been watching the two fight and observing their moves, stepped back in shock, putting her hands up to shield herself from the water. “Oh my...This seems like a strong opponent. I’m going to have to step in!”

Joseph and Caesar both fell to their behinds, staring and watching as the second boat nigh-miraculously appeared. Joseph brushed his hair out of his eyes as he was stunned into silence for once. “(...Wh...what?! I’ve seen a buncha lousy magic tricks in my life, but duplicating an entire boat ?! Who...who the hell is this chick?!)”

Caesar struggled to get up, due to the life preserver around his chest messing with his sense of balance, but had a similarly stunned expression. “(This ability of duplication...what did she call it? Kiss ? Is this a new form of hamon, or…?)”

Ermes pulled herself up quickly, staring at the boat’s front and waiting for the woman to come over. “Hhhaahhh...hhaahhhh...Hey! You, woman! Listen to me!”

Lisa Lisa rounded the corner, leaning on it with her arms crossed, staring at Ermes with a look of annoyance and confusion.

“These two dumbos are your students, right? They were calling you ‘master’, right? The only reason I can think of that you guys would attack me, some random girl on your that you need this ship for something! My stand, Kiss , can duplicate any object, and then fuse them back together, damaging it! If I were to tear the sticker off of the boat’s floor, here, in arm’s reach...then the boats would come back together and explode! So, if you don’t want this boat to kill your pupils and an innocent person, you’d better listen up!”

Caesar looked back to Lisa Lisa. “Sh-She isn’t bluffing, master Lisa Lisa! I saw her put this life preserver around me!”

Joseph hopped back on his feet and clenched his fists. “D-Don’t listen to him, master Lisa Lisa! I’m sure this is all...all just some stupid tricks! There was probably just always a boat there!” “Shut up, Joseph! You're not the one with a life preserver around your chest!”

Lisa Lisa put her hand to the side of her head and sighed. “It appears I might have made a mistake. My apologies. Jojo! Caesar! Retreat.” “Yes, master Lisa Lisa!”

“Wh--H-Hey, master Lisa Lisa, but--!” “That’s an order!” “...(sigh).”

Joseph stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled over to Lisa Lisa, frowning through his hamon training mask. Caesar got up and finally managed to get the life preserver off of his chest, it falling to the ground to his feet harmlessly. He let out a sigh of relief and focused his breathing back to what he had been trained to do.

Lisa Lisa nodded, watching Ermes put her hands on her hips, frowning. “Ugh...I think we got off to a bad start. Look, my name’s Ermes Costello. I’m from Florida.” She looked around, sighing. “Do you three have any clue where I am?”

Joseph crossed his arms. “You don’t know? You’re dumber than I expected!”

Ermes annoyedly pointed a finger. “Oi, shut the hell up! I only just woke up here maybe 10 minutes ago! Just tell me where the hell I am, already!”

Caesar put his arm out in front of Joseph before he could say something else, clearing his throat. “You’re in Venice, Italy.”

Ermes coughed hard. “(kOFF) V-VENICE? Like, the real Venice, Italy ?!! How the hell’d I end up here?! Last I remember, I was in the seas right outside Cape Canaveral, and…”

She gasped, staring down at her arms. She never noticed it before, but it was totally noticeable now! Almost too obviously, there were two giant scars, going all the way around her elbow.

“...And…!! J-Jolyne…!! Pucci...E-Emporio…! Anasui! Where are they?!” She put her arms out at her sides, hands opened, looking around a bit before approaching the three.

“H-Hey! You three! Pretty boy, trickster dude, lady! Do you know anybody named Jolyne Cujoh? Jotaro Kujo? Enrico Pucci???"

The three shook their heads no. Caesar shook his head, frowning and turning to Lisa Lisa. “Master Lisa Lisa, this is a waste of time. This is probably just some homeless woman, and we were off our game to not notice the second objects…”

Ermes scrambled forward, gesturing wildly as she spoke to the three.

“N-No, dammit, you don’t understand! The world isn’t speeding up anymore, that means that Pucci either won, or he lost! I need to know if my friends arrrggghhh…”

Ermes clutched the sides of her head, wincing. Her head hurts so much…! “Aarrghh...W...W-What day is it…? Scratch that, what YEAR is it?”

Joseph put his hand on his hip, shifting his weight.

“You said you just woke up here, right? It’s obvious you’ve at least still got a coupla memories in that noggin of yours...It’s 1938.”

Ermes felt her stomach begin to twist, and she suddenly felt very dizzy…


And she collapsed, unconscious, onto the deck.

Chapter Text

Polnareff tilted the bottle back, letting the fruit juice inside guzzle down the woman’s mouth. She gulped and swallowed, slowly being able to get back up.

“My goodness, you certainly are thirsty. Were you lost in the desert, or something?”

Joseph turned to look at Polnareff.

“Polnareff, we’re still in town, she could be a tourist that didn't expect how hot it was going to be here. It’s a common thing with travelers, I’ve been strapped for water a few times, myself!” He laughed, crossing his arms as Polnareff emptied the last drops into her mouth.

Oingo kept his arms firmly pinned to his sides, staring down at the green-haired girl as beads of sweat dripped down his face. He didn't expect things to go like this...T-This girl never even appeared in [ Thoth ] ’s predictions!

“(...S...S-Shit…! If I just book it, they’re going to think something’s up, and they’re gonna chase me down for sure! I need to stay in my disguise! Brotheeeer! Save meeee!)”

Somewhere in the town, Boingo was crouched behind a fire hydrant, flipping through pages.

“Gghhghh...C-Come on, brother, yes! Change out of your disguise already, before the prophecy comes true, yes!”

As he was about to flip to the next page, he felt the book become thicker. “W-What…? Four new pages?! In the middle of a prophecy?! What’s happening...what could be causing this?!”

He flipped to the end, trying to figure out if anything had changed, and saw the final page. His face went blue in a cold sweat.

“...O-Oh...oh no…”


“Well, yes, but then why would she come out of the building she’d have been staying in?” He looked down at the girl. “Hey, jeune femme . What’s your name?”

The girl finally managed to pull herself up on her feet, hands on her hips as she smiled widely. “Aaahhh~~! Nothing like a good drink of water to perk you right up! Thank you guys so much! It’s terrible, out here in the desert...It’s so dry, I thought I was going to wither--hey, could you pass me another one--wither away!”

Polnareff handed her another juice bottle, her impressively guzzling it down in one gulp. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smiling.

“My name’s Foo Fighters! Everyone calls me F.F., for the most part, though.”

Polnareff rubbed his chin.

“Foo...Fighters? You sound like an American, to me. Are you a tourist or something?”

“Well, no...I actually woke up a while ago in this town. Last I remember, I died in the fields of Green Dolphin Street Prison, protecting Anasui and Jolyne…I was even out of Atroe’s body, then...But, it looks like I’m back in her body now. Actually, speaking of which, do you guys know a Jolyne Cujoh and a Narciso Anasui?”

Joseph perked up. “...Cujoh?” He turned to Oingo, who had been lost in thought. Joseph’s sudden words made him immediately stiffen his back, shivering.

“Jotaro, do you know anybody with your last name called Jolyne? Do you have a sister you didn't tell me about? Well?”

“(What the fuck?! Jotaro has a SISTER?! No. Nooo, no no no, this isn’t happening...I didn't know about this! Why the hell does he keep his life so secret?!!) Ummm, y-yeah! Yeah, uh, whoops, I forgot to mention it to you, gramps, uh...My mom told me about, uh, a secret daughter she had! Years ago, yeah! Uh, t-tell me, Ms. Fighters, is my, uh, dear sister doing well…?”

Foo Fighters stopped trying to coax the last drops out of the bottle she was holding, turning to Oingo. She squinted and tilted her head.

“...? Mr. Jotaro, is that you? Jolyne did always tell me her dad looked young, but I didn't expect him to look THIS young…”

Polnareff’s, Joseph’s, and Oingo’s jaws were left agape as they all spoke simultaneously.


Oingo pulled his hat down, bravely fighting the urge not to scream.

“(WHAT THE FUUUUCK?!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!! Isn’t Jotaro, like, 17?! I knew he was a delinquent, but...ALREADY?! Who the hell IS this guy?!!)”

Joseph stumbled over and grabbed the sides of ‘Jotaro’’s jean jacket, yelling in his face. “Jotarooo! I want a full, clear explanation as to why my 17-year-old grandson has a daughter!” As Oingo sputtered and stammered to try and come up with an explanation, Foo Fighters raised her eyebrows. “17 years old? That’s almost the same age as Jolyne! I’d expect him to be, like, 40 by now...Unless…?”

She tapped Polnareff’s shoulder as Joseph shook Oingo vigorously, yelling.

“Scuse me, mister…?” “Ah, mon cherie , you may call me Jean-Pierre Polnareff.” “Mr. you know what year it is? I think something weird happened…I remember being in 2011 before dying, so if I went back in time somehow, it might make sense that Jotaro is a lot younger than I remember Jolyne saying he was!”

Polnareff nodded, crossing his arms and thinking. “Hmmm. I believe I understand. If I am remembering correctly, which I almost certainly am, it is 1989.”

Foo Fighters nodded, humming. “Mm. 1989…” She hacked, spitting out a few black speckles onto the sand.

“N-NINETEEN-EIGHTY-NINE?! That has to, uh…” She counted on her fingers for a little bit.

“...22 years ago from where I remember being! I was really sent back, huh…? Maybe...Is this what Pucci’s heaven was? Us being transported out of his hair…?” Polnareff tilted his head. “Pucci? Who is this Pucci? Is he related to DIO?”

She snapped her fingers. “DIO! Yeah, he was DIO’s friend, or boyfriend, or something from where I came DIO still around in this time period?”

Polnareff clicked his teeth. “Tch, he sure is around, and as blithely menacing as ever. We’re actually on our way to try and find him and kill him right now, but we stopped to pick you up.”

Foo Fighters thought for a few seconds, before opening her eyes.

“Then...If I kill DIO now, he might not have a chance to tell Pucci the way to heaven!” She clenched her fists and nodded, smiling.

“Alright! I’ve made my decision! I’m coming with you guys to kill DIO!”

Joseph, Oingo, and Polnareff all stopped to look at her. Joseph let go of Oingo’s jacket, looking at her doubtfully. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t think a cross-country trip fraught with assassins and attackers would be any place for a young girl like you…”

F.F. nodded, her smile dissolving into a steeled look.

“It’s not just that I want to go. This might be my chance to give my friends in the future a better life...And even though the priest gave me life through one of his stand discs, if it means my friends have better lives in the future, it will be worth it! And don’t underestimate me. [ Foo Fighters ] allows me to do all sorts of things, like shoot plankton--” She made a gun with her fingers, and it momentarily disassembled into black, wriggling specks before reforming into a gun’s barrel and back again. “--seal up small wounds with plankton, and even control water a little! Please, just let me come with you! This isn’t about something like adventure or curiosity: It’s for my friends!”

Polnareff looked to Joseph, who looked to Oingo. Oingo shrugged and gulped, sweating nervously. Polnareff looked back to Foo Fighters, smiling.

“Alright, then. Looks like you’re in, mademoiselle . But we never said this trip would be an easy one, so keep that in mind! Come into the car, we’re about to pick up our friend Kakyoin from the hospital.” Joseph nodded. “Yes! You too, Jotaro. You’re lucky this young woman is from the future, or you’d be in big trouble!”

“H-H..H...H-Hahaha-ha, y-yeah! Yeah, (oolp) y-yeah, sure! Hahaha! (Jesus CHRIST, what have I gotten myself into…?! This is a NIGHTMARE!!!!)”

Chapter Text

“W-What perfect experiences! I’ve stumbled upon the perfect inspiration! All thanks to you, Koichi Hirose!”

“YEEAAAARRRRGHHH!!!” Koichi and Hazamada uselessly flopped around like fish on the ground trying to escape from the deranged mangaka. After they had snuck that peek at the oh-so-tantalizing manuscript, their faces had flipped open like books! They were almost completely incapacitated, trying to get away.

Rohan feverishly thumbed through Koichi’s face.

Crazy Diamond ! Star Platinum ! The Hand ! Love Deluxe ! Et cetera, et cetera…”

He was clearly mesmerized and astounded by how much good material was in this tiny high schooler! Koichi spoke out, his voice shaky from fear.

“W...What...W-What are you going to do to us?!” Rohan snapped his head towards Koichi.

“I’ll take your ‘MEMORIES’! They’ll become inspiration for my comics!”

Just then, Koichi called his stand out. The sound effect-creating stand [ Echoes Act 2 ] ! It hovered above Rohan, long pen-nib tail swishing in the air.

“P-Please immediately cease your attack on us with your stand! I-If you don’t…!!” Rohan interrupted him.

“If I don’t…hahahahaha…” He mocked Koichi, raising his voice in pitch to that of a whiny whimper. “‘I’ll attack using Echoes Act 2 ’s sound!’...Right?”

“YES! P-Please withdraw your stand! I won’t hold back!” Rohan just scoffed, leaning forward and flipping through Koichi’s face again.

“Fine...but on page 11 here, it clearly states…’Koichi Hirose. You are much more cowardly than a normal person and you easily give in under pressure, but when push comes to shove you can be quite courageous.’ ...This is good! I like what I see! From your readers will probably like you.”


Rohan shouted back. “SHUT UP AND DO IT THEN!”

ECHOES ACT 2 !!!” Echoes chucked a ‘KABOOM!’ sound effect straight at Rohan’s head.

But somehow, it missed!

The red block of text flew straight past Rohan’s noggin and instead hit the bookshelf on the opposite wall, causing it to combust in a small explosion.

“(W-What?!) ...It...I-It missed?!” Hazamada piped up in his nasally voice.

“Less ‘it’ missed and more ‘you’ missing! Your aim is WAY OFF!”

Koichi, ever-determined, tried again. “HOW’S THIS?!” Echoes lobbed two more, smaller “BOOM!’ onomatopoeia Rohan’s way, both of them impossibly curving around him. Rohan was left standing, completely unfazed.

“Ah!” “W-Where are you even aiming, Koichi-kun?!” Rohan quietly strolled over to Koichi.

“Koichi...too bad for you, but you seem to have a ‘Safety Lock’ on Echoes .” “H-Huh?”

You can not attack Kishibe Rohan.

Hazamada gulped. “A...A-A safety lock?!” “Look for yourself. I wrote right here in the margin of page 11.” Rohan crouched down in front of Koichi, thumbing through the pages until he was back at page 11.

True to his word, written in the neat hiragana of an expert mangaka, was but a single phrase.


...Weather woke up to the sound of explosions. His fluffy white hat had shifted down and covered his eyes, so when he opened them he got an eyeful of black. He moved his hand up to his hat and pulled it off, his similarly white hair falling down a bit in locks from the new freedom.

God, his head hurts. Did he bump his head back in Cape Canaveral…? Or, actually, was he ever even IN Cape Canaveral…?

...For that matter, where is he?

He moved his hand up to his face to rub the crud out of his eyes before he felt his hands come into contact with...paper? He patted around the paper a little bit more, eventually figuring that some kind of practical joke had been played on him by Anasui or Emporio or whoever else. He took hold of an edge he found and started to rip, immediately stopping after he felt warm blood spurt out of his face along with the familiar sensation of pain.

...God, he can barely remember anything. Well, that isn’t a strange feeling to him, but still. Jolyne, Emporio, Anasui, Ermes...Where’d they all go? And why’s he in this bathroom? He looked around.

From the looks of it, it’s a high-class personal bathroom in a house. It looks Japanese, to him. Maybe he’s been picked up by some Asian-American drifters nearby Disney World?

He tried to get up, but found his entire body was sore. He couldn’t move...He ran his fingers down the rest of his body. All of his clothes were still here. All the nice little triangle cuts, his ‘W’ belt buckle, et cetera. At least he hadn’t been robbed blind.

He tried to get out of the tub again, but to no avail. His body was just too sore to exert any large amount of force to get up.


...What to do…?


Weather had an idea.

He very slowly managed to crawl his arm up, up, up the wall and towards the dial for the water. He only had a loose grip on it, but he tried to pull it out to turn the water on. Each pull caused more spikes of pain to shoot down his body, but each pull moved the dial out a little more until it finally gave.

A stream of ice-cold water started to pour from the faucet in gallons. Weather winced a little feeling the brisk fluid reach his body almost immediately, but if everything goes well, the water should fill up the tub and he should be able to just float up by holding his breath, needing to exert less energy to just roll out.

As the bitterly cold water slowly filled up the tub, Weather only had an inkling of what had happened. He didn't remember anything from before he was in Emporio’s Burning Down The House ...But, again, that’s normal for him. He has this strong feeling that he’s missing...something.

Almost instinctively, he thrust out his hand.

“... [ Weather Report ] ...”

Nothing happened. As he expected to happen.

He supposes he’ll just sit here until the tub fills up…

...Still, he wonders what those explosions were.

Chapter Text

“...The fuck are you talking about? Jolyne Cujoh...Nah, I don’t remember any names like that showin’ up…”

Mista rubbed his chin for a second before shaking his head. “Grrgfh--T-That ain’t the point! Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doin’ here?! This shit’s top-secret!”

Narciso turned around on the couch, folding his arms on one of the couch’s and resting his chin on them. “Hey, hey. Listen to what I’ve gotta say before you go killing people.”

Narancia stomped his feet, clenching his fist. “No way! You’re digging your nose into deeper shit than you can swallow, you asshole! We’ll kill you!”

Anasui just sighed. “Listen, already. The both of you.”

“...Before you go asking any other questions, let me tell you the truth. I woke up here a couple of minutes ago and figured everything was alright. I probably just woke up in some hotel room after Jolyne and the rest won against Pucci, our enemy. So I flicked on the TV and relaxed. Obviously, I can tell I’m in the wrong place.”

Mista put his hands on his hips and groaned. “Look, dumbass-suey, maybe you woke up here, but you can’t stay. We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

“You know, that brings up another question I had...How the hell did you two get in? There aren’t any doors anywhere in this room, and the only window out is that big red one up there.” He gestured to the red window on Coco Jambo’s shell.

“It only shows the sky, so I figured I was fine staying here for the time being.”

Narancia huffed. “Forget it! Mista, lemme at him! I’ll use [ Aerosmith ] to put more holes in him than a sponge!”

Anasui raised his head. “Oh? So you two are stand users, as well... Aerosmith . That sounds like an airplane. And from the looks of it, you...Mista, right…? Your stand must have something to do with your gun, judging from how you don’t look to have anything else on you.”

Mista walked over to the TV and kicked it, the TV immediately shutting off.

“Hey, newsflash, Narco. Your fault or not, you’re interrupting something big. So either we have to kill you to make sure you don’t blab anything, or…” Mista fell silent. He couldn’t let this...this random-ass dude off the streets into the gang! What would Buccellati think…?

...Mista finally managed to figure something out. He grabbed Narancia by his headband.


“O-Ow!! What the hell’re you…?!” “(Shhh!! Keep your fuckin’ voice down, Narancia!)” He pulled the short kid into a huddle far apart from Anasui, who just turned back around and stared up through the window.

“(Mista, what the fuck are you doing?! Why aren’t we blowing this guy’s head off?!)”

“(Look, call me stupid, but I’ve got a plan.)” “(You’re stupid!)” “(Very funny. After the boss retrieves Trish, our mission’ll be over, right? We’ll go relax around the mainland, eat some spaghetti, real nice. After that’s done, we can let this guy get out while we’re out of earshot of the rest of the guys and try to convince him to join!)”


Anasui lolled his head over to them, Mista looking back. “...Er, eheh, just a sec, dude.”

He looked back to Narancia. “(God fucking DAMN IT, Narancia, shut up for one second! C’mon, we don’t have to deal with the guys yellin’ at us AND we get a new member of Passione! It’s foolproof!)”

“(Well...what happens if he doesn’t wanna join? Huh?)” “(It’s simple, at that point! I’ll have gotten a new gun and, y’know.)” He made a gun motion with his hands. “(Bang bang, right?)”

Narancia stopped and thought for a second, his little mind racking around possibilities and whatnot. After a bit of thinking, he put his fist into his open hand in an ‘I get it!’ motion.
“(Ooooohhhh. That is clever, Mista! But what’re we gonna do about him NOW? Abbacchio said he saw this dude lounging around, and if he sees him still in there when we come out, it’s game over for us!)” “(Don’t worry about it! I got a plan for that too!)”

Mista finally broke off from the huddle and walked over to Anasui, tapping him on the shoulder. Reflexively, he shooed Mista’s hand away. “What.”

“Uh...look, dude. One of our buds spotted you, so, uhh...can you hide under the couch? So we can tell him you died.”

Anasui rubbed his chin. For all that these guys seemed to be idiots, they had their own ways of dealing with things. Normally, he isn’t one to help anyone, but...he feels that these folk have a way to get to Jolyne. He can feel her scent on them. Even if she wasn’t even in the same country, he knew in his heart and in his mind that these people would lead him to her. So he obliged.

“...Fine. But he’ll be suspicious if there’s no blood in here. I have an idea of my own, in fact…”

He stood up, showing off his mesh shirt with footprint pads on it as he lightly brushed his hot pink hair out of his face.

Diver Down .”

Out of Anasui came an unnervingly bulky thing decked out in a breathing apparatus. It was a metallic teal-gray color with yellow lines all over it and a dark blue codpiece. Its face seemed to be nothing more than a series of holes, and there were serif-laid pink “D”s scattered across its body. As it came out, the sound of a diver letting out air underwater was heard, bubbles and all despite being fully in the air.

Mista and Narancia took a step back, slightly scared but more than confident enough to take him on. The two of them kept their fighting stance despite having no intention of clashing with him.

“It allows me to rearrange the internal structure of things. Turning skeletons into model ships. Twisting veins into knots. Taking apart things from the inside. First, it ‘dives’ into them...and it comes back out after it finishes the job. This is Diver Down .”

As Anasui spoke, the diver next to him had cracked its neck and rolled its shoulder. When he finished, it stood in front of him.

And it proceeded to deck him right in the gut.

However, his fist had phased through Anasui’s skin, melting through as if…’diving’ into his body. With it going into his body, his fist had punched straight into Anasui’s internal organs, rupturing several delicate blood vessels in the process. His stand was immediately dispelled, it dissolving away into the air as Anasui doubled over in pain.

“Khgkaaahh--!! F-Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, cunt, ass, f-fucking hell god DAMN IT…”

Mista and Narancia just watched him, Narancia leaning over to whisper to Mista.

“(This guy’s a fuckin’ idiot! He just punched himself in the stomach!)” “(Shut up, man, you can’t even do basic math.)” “(Hey, at least I’m not afraid of a stupid number!)” “(H-Hey, 4’s unlucky, Narancia! You can’t blame me for being afraid of it!)”

As the two bickered like old housewives, Anasui staggered himself over to the couch. He coughed a few times, a few specks of blood falling from his mouth to the floor and couch, before he used his own fist to punch himself in the chest. Immediately, blood poured out of his mouth as well as vomit, making a large and sizable puddle right next to the couch. Some even got on it, but luckily it was hard to see against the red suede.

“(kOFF, HACK) ...Y-You...said--(koff) to get under the couch...right…?” Anasui turned his head to smile at Mista and Narancia, his smile that of a man who is clearly doing what he wants to do regardless of the consequences. His eyes showed tinges of madness, but he still looked confident enough to be of sound mind.

“...It isn’t because you--(hack) told me to, but I’ll do it. Tell your ‘bud’ that I--(koff, hack, hack)--I was shot in the head, and before I died, I was--(hghack) able to dismantle your gun. I’ll take care of the rest.”

As he spoke, he slipped underneath the couch, staining himself in blood and vomit in the process despite not really seeming to care.

He’s determined to follow this group to the end. Even if it means dying before he’s able to see his wonderful Jolyne.

...Jolyne...He’s coming for you. He will be with her even if it’s in death.

Chapter Text

Pucci stared at Emporio with a look of utter and complete rage. The priest who had been calm once in his life had been shattered in his pursuit of heaven. And now...his brother. His brother, Domenico’s stand, Weather Report , was here to fight him.

But he knew he would win. After all, he has Made In Heaven . There isn’t any way he could lose.

Pucci lunged forward, Made In Heaven starting to perform a flurry of blows towards his brother’s stand. Emporio, however, looked...confident.

Too confident.

Pucci used his stand’s ability and accelerated time. Thinking and moving unbearably fast, he zipped around behind Weather Report .

“In the name of God...I will destroy you! Your actions, Emporio...You’re just making it so your screams become the trumpets of hell! Even if you insert Weather’s stand disc, Weather’s ability is his own ‘talent’! Don’t think that you can just use his ability however you want! ...AND!”

Time accelerated further in the tiny room made by Emporio’s true stand. The clock that had been hanging on the wall’s hands started to spin wildly and impossibly out of control, a potted plant sitting beneath it wilting as the water in the vase evaporated into the air, leaving it to die and quickly shrivel into nothing.

The blood on Emporio’s face, even though it was freshly-shed, had already dried and was flaking off of his cheek.

“I’ve ‘accelerated time’ again! In front of my honorable ambitions…!”

Emporio and Weather Report only barely managed to turn around as Pucci began to launch a full-frontal assault on them.

He screamed.


...But before he could attack, all of the veins in his hand tensed up at once, small streams of blood spurting out as his skin popped in some areas.

Blood shot out a short distance from Emporio’s pupils, the eyes having been damaged.

All at once, Pucci felt ounce upon ounce of blood shoot out of him. Suddenly, his legs felt weak, and he was unable to maintain the hang he had kept in the air using his stand.

Falling, he came into harsh contact with the piano in the room, a discordant sound of keys and metal sounding out from the crushed instrument.

Emporio’s eyes kept bleeding. Pucci didn't understand what was going on, nor did he have any clue to the truth of what was happening.

“Ugh...g-guhh...what…?!” He tried to get up again, but only managed to make it a few inches up before he fell back down hard onto the piano.

He heard the sound of footsteps.

“What…?! (What is this…?! I can’t...stand...s-something’s wrong…! I-I have to increase the speed, so I can get away…!!)”

Pucci noticed something above him. Slowly, he jerked his head to look up.

Weather Report was looming above Emporio in the air.

“Wha--?! Wh...W-What is this… Weather Report ?!”

Emporio spoke up, sitting on his knees on the other side of the room, staring Pucci down.

“It looks like this is an ability that you didn't know about...a hidden ability that lay dormant within Weather. I’ve read about it in a book once.”

The winds picked up around Emporio.

“The most deadly ‘poison’ that’s always within proximity of all the air we breathe! All organisms need oxygen to live...but the concentration of atmospheric oxygen cannot be above 40%. 100% pure oxygen is poisonous, and will drive organisms to death! Highly concentrated oxygen can corrode iron in a matter of seconds, and can make fire explode! It can also absorb electrons in the human body to destroy our cells! If you breathe too much of it, first your hands and feet will go numb, and you won’t be able to stand! The capillary veins in your eyes break and you go blind!”

“...It’s irrelevant how fast time passes... Weather Report is a stand which can control the weather! It’s already accumulated a huge amount of pure oxygen into this room…”

Weather Report slowly staggered towards Pucci, knees buckled and back hunched.

“...and slowly you lose consciousness...100% pure oxygen...will sink deeper...deeper into your tissues…”

Pucci managed to raise his head and bark out an insult. “Y...Y-You...brat…!!”

It was only then he noticed Weather Report truly looming above him, its dead, crimson eyes staring daggers into Pucci’s bloody eyes, its hands shaking and twitching into fists.

Emporio coughed. “I’m not controlling it...this is Weather’s hidden ability. You stole Weather’s memory. And the one to awaken Weather again with his snail ability, Father Pucci…”

“...It all was YOU! Meeting and finding people are also part of ‘gravity’...You were unable to defeat your destiny!”

Weather Report slowly lowered its fist to the side of Pucci’s head.

And it pressed down. Blood spurted out from Pucci’s face as he screamed out in agony.


Several bruises and cuts appeared on Pucci’s head, several streams of blood gushing out as his pupils shook.

“My ‘ability’ that I’ve FINALLY gained…! GOD wished for it to be so! It was an ability that GOD chose for me! A new history of humanity will be born, and the future of mankind will be saved!”

Pucci’s head was slowly being crushed between the stand’s fist and the floor.

“If...If I die before the original acceleration of time...before Cape Canaveral...If I die, the fate of HUMANITY will be altered!”

Blood soaked the carpet over the floor. Pucci’s eyes started to bulge out of his skull as it started to fracture from the pure force.

“It will probably be a different future! I CANNOT DIE HERE!!! As long as it’s AFTER Cape Canaveral, I will gladly give up my life! Or else it will mean that everything I’ve done until this point will have been...MEANINGLESS! Humans will not be able to see the future as it happens! They will not be able to face their destinies! Remember that RESOLUTION IS THE WAY TO HAPPINESS! I CANNOT DIE HERE!!!

Emporio pointed.

“Don’t you understand…? You lost to fate! Walking the path of justice is true fate!”


Pucci’s head almost downright exploded with blood as his eyes popped out of their sockets, his skull fracturing and sending bone fragments into his brain. His teeth broke out, his nose was broken...his entire face was ripped apart. He only had enough life in him to force out one last exclamation.


Weather Report tore off an entire half of Pucci’s face, grabbing the side of his skull with it as Pucci could only scream and warble out in confused agony at feeling his dreams die along with his body and soul.

It picked him up by the skull and slammed him into the piano, cleanly smashing it into splintered pieces.

It was over. Emporio had won.

And yet, stumbling outside of a local prison, wrapped up in nothing but an old quilt she had taken from the trash, a young girl walked and grumbled to herself.

“...Dammit...I-I have to figure out what happened...I gotta know...where they are…”

Chapter Text

Speedwagon clenched his fist, staring up at the loathsome Dio.

“Ah! I…! Yes, it drives me crazy! I-It makes me sweat that that bastard is living in such good spirit! Dio! I have prepared myself for this moment! (The man who betrayed Mr. Joestar’s love and paid it back in blood! Him...Him alone!)” He grit his teeth.

“As a human...I cannot forgive him!”

The kid Jotaro had caught looked around. “Huh…? What happened? What did I do...where am I…? Who are you?” He just grunted. “Can it, the adults are talking.”

Zeppeli crossed his arms, scowling. “So, this is Dio...He’s certainly cunning! He and the zombies cannot act in the sun, so he hypnotized a human child to draw us into a place where he could fight!” True to Zeppeli’s word, the clouds had rolled in, making the whole scene somewhat dim. He pointed dramatically at Dio.

“A cunning man like him has the mask! He must be destroyed no matter what!”

Jonathan simply stayed silent, remembering how Dio had brutally murdered his father, George, back at the mansion. He steeled himself to fight.

Vampires burst out of the ground without warning, growling and snarling animalistically. The young boy Jotaro was holding yelped and screamed. “Ah--!! EEEEEEK!!!” Jotaro snapped at the kid. “Dammit, will you shut the fuck up?! You’re so god damn annoying!”

Jonathan glanced at Jotaro. “Please, Mr. Jotaro, he’s just a child! I’m in a bit of a bind, so could you please protect him?”

“(I’m not this kid’s damn babysitter…!) Urgh, fine. Kid, what’s your name?” “P...Poco…” “Okay, Poco. Grab onto my jacket and don’t let go.” “(O-Okay…)”

Poco clambered around Jotaro until he was latched onto his back like a backpack, Zeppeli getting into a fighting stance.

“The dead warriors have become zombies! Let’s go, Jojo!” “Right! We’ll get up to Dio in one blow!”

Speedwagon pulled out his trusty sledgehammer, letting out a war cry. “Ooooaaaaahhhhhh!!”

Jonathan and Zeppeli took deep, chesty breaths, emitting a synchronized “kkkoooooohhhh” sound.

A zombie lunged at Will, its mouth agape and dripping with drool as it thrust its arms out to attack. Zeppeli moved his arms into position and promptly smashed the Zombie’s face in with a hamon-infused chop. As the zombie stumbled back, Zeppeli yelled out.

“Ripple of the Sun: Sunlight Yellow Overdrive!” “Gwwhaaauuhgghh!!!”

The zombie fell back onto several others, the hamon reverberating through its system and spreading to the others, making them all crumble into nothing more but dust. Zeppeli was finally able to tear his foot free from the zombies’ grasp and run to fend off more.

“Haaa!! Take that, you unpleasant beasts!!” Speedwagon lifted up his sledgehammer and swung it, caving in a zombie’s skull. It fell to the ground, twitching, as he slung it back over his shoulder. “Heheheh! You should never go against a warrior of the streets of London!”

Jonathan reared his fist back, aiming at an unsuspecting zombie. “Damn you…!!” He threw his fist forward, his arm dislocating from his shoulder as his hamon-infused punch decimated the zombie’s head. “ZOOOOM PUNCH!”

The zombie was promptly disintegrated, as Jonathan broke himself free and bounded off toward Zeppeli.

Jotaro, to anyone who was watching, was just standing there screaming “ORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORA!!!!” as countless zombies broke apart and were flung away from him, seemingly on their own. Poco watched with his mouth agape in amazement. “(Wow...this guy may be rude, but he really packs a punch! He’s punching so fast I can’t see it!)” After most of the zombies around him were cleared out, he kicked himself free and followed quickly after Zeppeli, Jojo, and Speedwagon.

Zeppeli was the highest up, and had a direct line of sight to Dio. He stared at the blonde vampire, his face stern and serious. “Dio...Brando...I don’t know you personally, but I can say this to the mask that has awakened your brain! AT LAST, WE MEET AGAIN!”

Dio raised his lip to reveal one horrific fang, typical of vampires. Zeppeli snapped his fingers.

Hey, baby! Do you want to fight in such an unstable location? Come down…”

Dio rumbled out in his intimidating growl of a voice.

“...Who do you think you are...insect? I am the crown of creation...the being that will create a new future...Should I stand on the same ground as a mere human? Rude fool!”

Zeppeli felt sick to his stomach, but managed to keep his breathing steady. “(Urrrghhh…!! S-Such pressuring evil atmosphere!! And this majestic presence...!!)”

“When I heal these wounds on my stomach, I will have erased ALL of Jojo’s burns! Come, magician! I will eliminate these wounds with your life!”

Zeppeli gasped, and stared at Dio with unbridled rage. He grit his teeth.

“ many lives have you sucked to heal those wounds?!”

Dio just smirked.

“Do you remember how many breads you have eaten in your life?”

Will’s breath hitched in his throat.

Jonathan clenched his fists. “Z-Zeppeli!” Speedwagon had his sledgehammer slung over his shoulder, hand on his hips staring up at Dio.

...Meanwhile, Jotaro looked down at Poco, then stared back up at Dio.

Dio...That bastard...Dio was the one that killed his friends. Avdol, Iggy, Kakyoin...He murdered countless innocents...he put Holly in danger…!! Slowly, Jotaro felt his fists clench and his teeth grit, seemingly of their own accord. This incredible anger, welling up within him…!

He grabbed the brim of his hat and pulled it down. “(Yare yare daze...What the hell am I doing just standing around and watching? I might as well make myself useful.)”
Jotaro looked over to Speedwagon and barked at him. “Hey! Speedwagon.” The London thug looked over to him. “Eh? What is it, Mr. Jotaro?” Jotaro stepped towards him and turned so Poco was near him. “Get this brat off of me. I’m going to go take care of Dio myself.”

Speedwagon squinted at him, frowning. “...Mr. Jotaro, this is a serious situation! You can’t just go up there and expect to beat him like you’re fighting an infant missing half its limbs!”

Jotaro stared at him. “...Tch. Look, just take the damn kid.”

Jotaro forcefully pried Poco off of his jacket, Poco audibly protesting. “Wh-hey!! Let go of me! I don’t wanna be with this stinky thug!” In the end, however, Poco was turned over to Speedwagon, and Jotaro started to strut towards the pillar of rock Dio was perched on.

Jonathan looked back at Jotaro. “Mr. Jotaro, please, I would advise you to just stay and watch Mr. Zeppeli--” “Be quiet.”

Jotaro bent down and took a deep breath. The last time he did this was...well, the last time he fought Dio.


To the naked eye, Jotaro was suddenly launched off the ground, leaving a substantial crater where he had previously been. In truth, however, he had used Star Platinum to punch the ground and launch himself upwards. He reached out and grabbed the edge of the rock, swinging forwards and getting a nice chest-full of rock for his troubles. “Hrrngh--!!” It hurt, but he was on it.

At the same time, Zeppeli had made his decision. “Leave it to me!!” He gracefully waved his hands, hamon energy flickering around them, and made an impressive vertical leap straight up to Dio, who had his attention focused on Zeppeli.

Zeppeli puckered his lips, breathing in. “Here’s a sound for you!” He put his hand into a chopping shape, shoving it towards Dio with a resounding “PAH!”


Time stopped. Jotaro pulled himself up onto the cliff face, brushing himself off and panting. “Huff...huff...dammit. What a goddamn drag...But, now that I think about it, I guess it was kind of lucky I just had to run into you again here. You, of all people…”

He pointed.

“You’re the one person that pisses me off the most!”

Star Platinum came out.


A flurry of punches, so fast they would only be seen as blurs, hit Dio’s motionless body, one after the other after the other after the other.

After he had finished punching, Jotaro turned around and pulled his hat down, hand in his pocket.

“Fuck off.”

And Dio was sent flying.

Chapter Text

Ermes was awakened by the sound of an explosion, jolting her off the ground and conking her straight on the head. The pain knocked her awake, clutching her head with her eyes suddenly open to the wide, vast, bright, bright sea.

“G-GaaaAAAUGGHH--!!! S-SON OF A…” She eventually squinted a little to let her eyes adjust to the sudden light and rubbed the crud out of her eyes.

Joseph and Caesar touched down on the deck of the boat as well, Lisa Lisa majestically holding up the wondrous red stone while smoke billowed from the back third of the boat that had exploded from the sudden ray of heat hitting it.

“This is it--Nature’s perfect miracle crystal, without a single imperfection! The Super Aja!”

Ermes slowly got up off the ground, using the walls of the ship to slowly grope her way up into a standing position. Ugh, her damn head hurts again…

...Wait, why’d she pass out again…?

...Oh crap, right. It’s 1938. Ermes scratched her hair as she tried to listen in on the other people on the boat’s conversations. Uhhh, what were their names? ...The tricksy dude was Joseph...the prettyboy was Caesar...and that lady was Lisa...Lisa? Was it two Lisas? Kind of a stupid name.

After Joseph touched down, he looked down at the wreckage and yelped.

“Heeeey! T-That was close! Don’t point it this way, idiot!” Caesar grit his teeth at Joseph. “Don’t call the master an idiot, you bastard…!!”

Lisa Lisa just ignored the two and kept on talking.

“Ripple warriors who knew of the stone and their goals...managed to keep it protected, but died at the hands of those three.” Ermes tilted her head. Those three…? Who could they be talking about? “The stone narrowly escaped them, and now I have inherited the destiny of having to protect it.”

Joseph crossed his arms. “Soooo...I guess they got sleepy at some point...and decided to take a two-thousand-year nap?” He snorted and laughed, throwing his hands up in joy. Caesar quickly snapped at him. “Jojo! This isn’t a laughing matter!” Surprisingly, Joseph quickly squared up. “Right!”

...There was an awkward bout of silence before Ermes coughed. “...Uh. Hey. What’re you guys doing?”

Lisa Lisa, Joseph, and Caesar looked back at Ermes. “...Oh. You’re finally awake.” Lisa Lisa strutted over to her, hands on her hips. “I’m Lisa Lisa. Hamon master. These are my trainees, Joseph and Caesar.” Joseph waved, slightly confused, while Caesar deeply bowed. “Greetings, madame. Caesar Zeppeli, at your service.” Joseph just shot a look at Caesar and crossed his arms, muttering ‘casanova’ under his breath.

Ermes squinted at the three. “...Uh...Huh. Hamon.” She rubbed her chin, trying to remember where she had heard that word before. Maybe from when she was talking to Jolyne…?

“...Well, anyways. Uh, Ermes Costello! Stand user!”

Joseph squinted at Ermes. “...Uh...Huh. Stands.” And subsequently chuckled. “Heheheh, not so fun bein’ on the other side, is it?” Ermes just sighed at him before putting her hands on her hips. At least her arms aren’t as sore…

“So...What’re you guys doing? I heard a lot of talk about Asia or something like that.” Joseph pointed her, grinning under his breathing mask. “Hahahaha! Like we would ever tell a girl like you! This mission’s on wraps, top secret, need to know! We don’t know who’s working with the pillar men and who aren’t, so--” Caesar’s head snapped to glare at Joseph. “Jojo…!! You just gave away the names of our enemies!”

Joseph was silent for a second.

...Then he slapped his hands to the sides of his face.

“... OH NO!

Caesar just gripped the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Lisa Lisa put her hand up. “Calm down, you two. The pillar men aren’t ones to work with humans.” She looked back to Ermes. “And...Ermes, was it? I think your ‘power’ could really come into use.”

Ermes smiled nervously. “Oh! Y-You mean my stand, right? Kiss ?” She got into a quick pose with her arms slack at her sides, her head cocked sideways, and her stance wide. And following that, the sound of a sticker unpeeling played from the space seemingly next to her.

Joseph, Caesar, and Lisa Lisa would be able to see just the faintest outline of something humanoid next to her, along with what almost felt to be energy rivaling that of Lisa Lisa’s...but ultimately, nothing else.

It looked like they could only see the stickers she made with her hand. Strange…

Lisa Lisa hesitated to speak slightly, while Caesar and Joseph sweat profusely behind her. Joseph rubbed his chin. “(Urk…! This chick feels super-strong! Almost as strong as Lisa Lisa! feels a little different from hamon, somehow! I don’t have a clue what’s up with her, but...It’d probably be in my best interest not to mess with her!)”

Caesar didn't bother with the internal monologue and waltzed straight up to Ermes, taking her hand. “Hello, madame Costello. I must say, your beauty is more extravagant than all the stars in the night sky. And it would make my day, no, the rest of my life if I were to give you but one single rose as a token of my affectio--.”

Ermes interrupted him with a sock to the face, Caesar recoiling back and stumbling backwards a few steps, holding his face. “Get your hands off me, lover boy! I’m not interested!” Caesar rubbed the cheek he was punched in, frowning. “Fine...if you want to be that way.”

Joseph just snickered and laughed, pointing at him. “Hahahahaha! Looks like some Italian casanova just got what he deserved! Like a puppy getting stuck in the fence for chasing a squirrel!” “S-Shut up, Jojo!”

Lisa Lisa cleared her throat. “Alright! Ermes, we are on our way to Air Supplena Island. We will need all the help we need to take them down. And I can sense it...I’m not familiar with it, but I can almost sense hamon flowing within you...Would you like to come with us?”

Ermes crossed her arms, looking away.

“...I mean...I guess. It isn’t like I’ve got much else to do.”

Ermes closed her eyes and thought for a little bit about her current situation. The last thing she remembers before waking up in Venice was being in the ocean just outside Cape Canaveral, then some searing pain...She still wonders where the hell Pucci, and Jolyne, and Emporio and that pink-haired douche were. 2011...that’s the year she’s from. How did she somehow travel BACK in time to 1938? Did Pucci speed up time so quickly that she got dropped halfway through modern history…? But, as far as she knows, the prevalent threat right now are these so-called ‘pillar men’. And she hasn’t seen any stand users yet. Just ‘hamon’ freaks...The best option she has right now is to go along with these random folk and hope for the best.

“Count me in!”

Lisa Lisa nodded, a stern look on her face. “Good. You can watch Joseph and Caesar train and train yourself at our upcoming destination.” She twirled around and pointed. The sky quickly darkened, the waves crashing onto the shore of a tall, dark, ominous island with what looked like a castle built on top of it.

“Air Supplena island! Jojo! Caesar! This will be your final trial in your hamon training!“


Ermes sighed and rubbed her head. This feels like it’s going to be a long, long day.

...And yet, somehow…

...She has a very bad feeling about this ‘Air Supplena island’ place.

Chapter Text

Polnareff rubbed his chin, snickering. “So...what you’re telling me is that you’re actually a colony of plankton? And that colony of plankton gained a stand, Foo Fighters, which allowed it to take the body of some girl from Florida?”

F.F. nodded, sipping a bottle of juice. “(slurp slurp) Yep! It’s a long story, really. Me and Jolyne and Ermes had lots of fun together! We beat up gangsters, and...uh, old cult leaders...Some weird frog thing…”

She sighed and softly pet Iggy’s head, him seemingly not caring for it. “But then...I died. I’m a bit fuzzy on the details, but I ended up dying to protect my friends. Then, I felt my soul...swirl around a bit. Like, you know how when you’re falling asleep, your body feels like it’s falling? Kinda like that...then...I kinda remember some guy’s face...and then I woke up here! This desert’s way dryer than (slurp slurp) the marshes down in Florida, so I almost died...Until you guys rescued me, that is!”

Polnareff sighed. “It almost seems way too strange to be true...but, the proof’s right in front of us! And it sounds like we gained a powerful ally out of the whole ordeal, too…” He smiled. “Well, don’t worry, Foo! We’ll be working together all the way on this adventure!”

Joseph chimed in. “That is, if you can pull your weight. Remember that hitchhiker we picked up near the beginning of our journey, Polnareff? That little girl?” “Ah...Well, yes, but that was just a child! One that wasn’t even a stand user, at that!” He gestured to F.F.

“I have faith in this dame de plancton! And I’m sure Jotaro has faith in you, too, isn’t that right Jotaro?”

Oingo was busy clutching the sides of his head and having a damn anxiety attack. What the fuck?? What the fuck?? Who is this girl?! This wasn’t in the prophecy! Did-Did Tohth lie to him?! ...No. Tohth’s predictions are always, always correct. Maybe… it possible that…

...Can Tohth’s predictions change halfway through?

No. Naaahhh. That can’t possibly be true. It can’t! That’s the good news, yeah! ...Bad news is, he’s still in the same pile of shit he was before this lady came along!

“...Jotaro?” Oingo shot up in his seat. “ACK--Y-Yeah, Polnareff?” “You’ve got faith in Foo, right?” “...F-Foo…?” He looked over to F.F., who was curiously poking at Iggy and making him growl. “(Wow, a dog...I wonder what kind it is!)”

Oingo had better just say yes to not cause a ruckus. “...Yeah. She’ll be invaluable, I just know it.” Polnareff smiled. “Haha, that’s what I like to hear!”

But then, he stopped and looked closer at ‘Jotaro’.

“...Er, Jotaro...are you feeling alright? You don’t look so well…Your throat’s fine now, right?”

Oingo suddenly remembered the situation that had got him into this mess in the first place. He NEEDS to undo this stupid Jotaro disguise. That’s the only way he’ll be able to get out of this situation safely! And to do that without being pummeled afterwards, he needs to get out of the car...they’re already suspicious of his whole thing with the cigarettes…

...Ah! That’s it! He’ll fake being sick so they’ll let him out!

“...Jotaro. Mon frere. The way you’re clasping your hands…” Oingo hadn’t even noticed his hands were clasped together. Polnareff grabbed his hands.

“You’re clasping your hands with your LEFT THUMB on top!”

Oingo immediately broke out into a cold sweat, mind racing. S-Shit, does Jotaro always put his right thumb on top?! How the hell would anyone even notice that?! What am I going to do?! I’m dead!! I’m so, so dead!! Jesus Christ, I’m sorry, brothe--

“GYAHAHAHA!! Jotaro, the way you hold your hands is proof that you were a WOMAN in a past life!” Polnareff clasped his own hands. “I put my right thumb on top, so I was a MAN in my past life.”

F.F.’s mouth gaped open. “Whooaaa!! Really?! You can tell something like that from how you hold your hands together?!” “Oh, you haven’t heard, Ms. Fighters? I suppose things are different in your time, then, heheh~”

Joseph clasped his own hands together as well. “Oh, really? My left thumb goes on top.” “Then I’m sorry, Mr. Joestar, but that proves that you were once...female!” “‘Proves’?! What do fingers have to do with it?!”

“Oohh, what about me, what about me?!” Foo Fighters clasped her hands. The right thumb was on top! “Whoa!! I was a man in a past life!” “Lucky you, Fighters!” “Eh?! Why is that lucky, huh?!”

“Ah, never mind, never mind…”

Oingo crossed his arms. Ohhhh god. Oh, gods in heaven, Atum, Ra, all those damn other ones, why’d he have to get stuck with THESE people...ugh, his stomach huuurts...But, that gives him an idea! He’ll tell them he has a stomachache and they’ll let him out to shit! T-Then, it won’t be lying! Okay...he’s gonna do it! He’ll--
“Hey, Jotaro!” Polnareff held up the dreaded orange bomb.

“Let’s see who can eat a whole orange the fastest!”

Oingo spat. “WHAT?!” And as Polnareff moved his thumb to dig into the peel…!!


Everyone stopped, including Polnareff. Joseph tilted his head. “...What’s the matter, Jotaro? You’re acting really strange…” “Urk--!! No, no, it’s just--”

F.F. held out her hand. “Hey, Polnareff!! Let me see that orange, I wanna eat it first! I bet I can beat all of you for time!” “Oh-ho, the plankton girl would like to upstage all us men, huh…? Well, knock yourself out, then~” Casually, he tossed the orange bomb to F.F., Oingo almost pissing his pants from the tension and wishing that it didn't go off.

Lucky thing she caught it in her palm. “Oh, sweet!! I hope these’re Florida oranges, I love those!”

She held it in her hand, and her hand dissolved into thousands of tiny plankton, appearing as a sort of black goop that started to eat at the peel.

Oingo clenched his fists, gripping at the seatbelt. “G-G-Gramps, could I-could I PLEASE be excused, my stomach really really really hurts…I-I feel like I’m gonna explode…” Polnareff smirked. “C’mon, Jotaro, we’re almost at the hospital.” He pointed out the window. There’s the hospital, of course…”I’m sure you can hold it a little longer.”

“N-Noooo!! I-I really need to go, let me OUT LET ME OU--”

...Foo Fighters grabbed Oingo’s sleeve.

“...Hey...hey...Jotaro. What’s the deal with this?” She held out the orange.

Or, at least, what was an orange. Now it looks like a bunch of mechanisms, including a single large button on the top.

Joseph and Polnareff both turned to look at it. “...Ehh? Foo, what the hell is that thing…? It looks like some kind of explosive…”

“Yeah, I thought that was weird, too...And, plus, Jotaro was pretty adamant about you not touching that orange at all. But, the peel’s completely untouched. There isn’t any way he would have known about the thing in here unless he already knew it was there! And the only way he would have known that…”

Oingo gulped.

“...Is if he PUT IT HERE!” Ohhh shit shit shit shit shit. Foo Fighters stared down Oingo, a steeled look in her eyes. “...You know...Jolyne told me somethin’ once, while we were relaxing in her cell...She says that ever since her dad was in high school, he’s had a one-track mind on what he wanted as a future job. So, I’m curious...could you tell me what that is?”

Polnareff glared at Oingo, completely silent, as did Joseph.

Foo Fighters gripped his sleeve tighter, holding the device in her other hand.

Even Iggy, who had been sleeping for most of the time, had one sparkling eye glaring at Oingo.

The atmosphere is tense.

So tense...too tense…!!

...S-Shit...Boingo...forgive him…!!

Oingo coughed.


F.F. pulled on his sleeve. “WRONG! It was MARINE BIOLOGIST! The only way you wouldn’t have known that is if...Is if you aren’t Jotaro!”

Joseph and Polnareff recoiled in shock. “WHAAAAAAAT?!”

“N-No!! No, wait, t-that’s what I meant to saaaay!! P-PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEEE!!”

In one swift motion, F.F. formed her fingers into a pistol, aiming it straight up through Oingo’s lower jaw.

And she shot, the force of the plankton bullet so strong that it completely shot through Oingo’s jaw, through his skull, and into his brain, where the plankton multiplied so quickly and so numerously that the resulting effort was that there were more plankton than Oingo’s skull could allow.

His skull completely fractured, puncturing his brain and squirting out blood from his eyes, ears, and nose as he fell limp on the seat, dripping onto the seat.

Foo Fighters blew off her fingers. “I knew there was something fishy about that guy.”

Outside the hospital, Polnareff and Joseph got out of the car. They brought in Oingo, playing it off like their friend had had a sudden brain aneurysm and that his family would pay for the damages. Walking out, all they had was praise for Foo Fighters.

“Gahahahaha!! By Jove, Foo Fighters, I have to admit that we underestimated you! If it weren’t for your quick thinking and intuition, we wouldn’t have even known we were being attacked!” Polnareff placed a hand on her shoulder. “Indeed! Mademoiselle, you have more than proven yourself capable of tagging along with our group to defeat DIO!”

Foo Fighters pumped her fists in the air. “Hell yeah!”

Joseph pointed a finger to an upcoming figure. A tall, jacket-clad figure.

“Oh, hey, here comes Jotaro! Of course, I mean the REAL Jotaro, hahahahaha!”

Jotaro strutted forwards and cracked his neck, waving to the three. “Hey. Jiji. Polnareff.” He looked at Foo Fighters. “...Who the hell is this?”

“Ah, Jotaro, this is Foo Fighters! She is an ally we picked up on the way here! She exposed one of our enemies, and she’s made out of plankton! I am sure she will be a big help to us!”

Jotaro pulled the brim of his hat down. “Yare yare daze...Polnareff. Don’t you remember the last time we picked up hitchhikers? You know I can’t stand them, especially if they’re little girls.” Polnareff put his hands on his hips and sighed. “I guess it’ll take more convincing to get you to trust her...but she’s definitely coming along with us!”

Foo Fighters just smiled.

Over in the distance of the desert, an ambulance appeared to be pulling up to a group of people. It was a rather ugly man in glasses surrounded by burly thugs, the thugs mercilessly kicking a small boy.

He had dropped his manga on the ground…

------------------------------------------------------- The Inside Of Tohth's Prophecy ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oingo and Boingo started following the three! And their dog! (MARCH MARCH!)”

“As they were following, they saw a man who hadn’t done anything, but still pissed them off. The brothers really hated his face!”

“He hadn’t done anything wrong, but they punched him in the face anyway! (SMASH! UGGHH!!)”

“The guy with the annoying face was in a panic! He even dropped his loaded wallet!”

“Hooray! We’re so lucky! The two brothers were so lucky! Peace!”

“And so, they started following the Joestars again…”

“Joestar and his friends got in a car and they drove to the hospital where Avdol and Kakyoin were.”

“Oingo had hidden a bomb in that car that was disguised as an orange! (SMILE! SMILE!)”

“However, the orange didn't go off! Oh no, what’s going to happen to the brothers?!”

“But suddenly, some random lady got into the car!”

“BLAMMO!! Jotaro was blown up, and his head completely exploded!! (KA-BOOOOOM!!)”

“Oingo and Boingo both got their comeuppance...The guy that had dropped their wallet brought his friends to take their revenge!”

“‘You bastards! How dare you mess with me! Now it’s payback time, hehehehe!!’ The annoying guy said!”

“Even though Boingo finally felt like he could take a stand on his own, fate had suddenly changed on him and he couldn’t take revenge with his brother. But don’t give up, Boingo! That’s just part of life!”

“And so, the two brothers gave up together, Boingo now having to learn the troubles of life on his own!”


Chapter Text

...That night, Rohan Kishibe woke up to the sound of splashing. Being as famous a mangaka like he is, he always makes sure to get a good night’s sleep. But when that sleep is interrupted, whomever is responsible is sure to get a good beating.

He sat up in his bed and yawned, smacking the bad taste out of his mouth. He looked at the clock. Ten after midnight. He has manga to work on in the morning, he can’t be staying up...but, still, the sound of loud, labored splashing was what woke him up.

The previous day, he had had the time of his life getting...ahem, ‘inspiration’ from those two high schoolers. Koichi and Hazamada, if he’s remembering correctly...They should notice a change in their weight when they get home, for sure. But enough!

To investigate this strange splashing sound, Rohan got up out of bed, put on his trademark headband, and slowly but surely approached the bathroom.

Earlier this week, someone fell from the sky onto his roof. They were banged up pretty badly, but after they went to the hospital for their injuries, they completely disappeared. No one knew where they went.

...Except for Rohan, of course. He could sense that this man had thousands if not millions of stories worth telling about his life, even if he couldn’t remember them all! So he used Heaven’s Door , tore out a particularly juice page or two, and kept them in the back of his mind to save for later and look over fully once he had finished this chapter. And the place he put that man, figuring no one would be looking for a stranger who had fallen out of the sky and who was very obviously not Japanese, was in his…

...bathroom. Aw, shit.

Rohan pushed the door open and looked around. “...What is this…? What happened here?!” The bath was completely overflowing with water, it spilling out onto the floor. Various things on his vanity were strewn about, INCLUDING his personal lipstick! Ooh, whoever did this, they’ll pay, they’ll pay dearly…

Rohan pulled out Heaven’s Door , checking to see if any stand users were in the area.

Nothing. The mangaka just sighed and turned the water off, aiming to clean everything up tomorrow when he’s fully rested.

He turned on his heel and closed the door behind him.

Inside of Rohan’s medicine cabinet, Weather Report was tightly curled up into a ball. He had to toss out almost everything and hide the translucent shelves in the water of the bath, but he couldn’t risk being found. All this while still having his body be sluggish and sore, unable to move for very far at a time...He had to wait until Rohan was asleep to even be able to move fully and for Heaven’s Door to be deactivated. If he weren’t so confused, he would be proud of himself.

And it would only be a matter of time before Rohan’s precious source of information escaped out of one of his windows at 3 am.

Koichi was walking to school with the niggling suspicion that he had been forgetting to do something big and important, but never quite realizing what. The feeling had actually persisted ever since last night, but still he can’t quite remember anything.

“...I wonder what it was…? Ever since last night, I’ve felt like I had to do something...But I can’t remember it at all!”

He wavered a little, using his other hand to catch his bag as he panted. “And...for some reason, this morning, my bag and shoes feel really heavy! I mean...I-I’m already worn out and I haven’t even gotten to school yet!”

He looked up.

...Wait, he wasn’t at school! He was...wait, what?! He had accidentally walked all the way to Rohan’s house instead! “ Rohan-sensei’s house?” Gulp.

“(Man, what is WITH ME this morning…? Somehow, without noticing it...I ended up walking all the way to Rohan-sensei’s house!)” ...Oh, look, the door is open…

“This door is open...I know I should stop by to say thanks for yesterday, but it’s already past 8! I’m going to be late for school...It’ll only be worse if I stop to visit…” Betraying his own words, Koichi started to enter Rohan’s house.

Then a voice rang out from the bushes, out in English. “Stop! Don’t go into that house!”

Koichi stopped and stepped back out, looking around. “...Huh? ...What was that…? Who said that? Sounded like English…”

“...It was me.”

...Weather Report poked his face out of a nearby bush. It’s a good thing he learned a little bit of Japanese back in the prison.

Koichi’s breath hitched in his throat. “Urk--!! W-Who are you?!” Slowly, Weather Report rose up out of the bushes. “...Who I am is not important. You can’t go into that house. The mangaka in there stole my memories and kidnapped me.”

Koichi smiled nervously. Who the hell is this guy…? “...Uh, heheheh, t-thanks…? But, uh, Rohan-sensei is really nice...he even made me and one of my friends tea and cookies! ...Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Weather clenched his fists and adjusted his hat. “Listen to me. You must not go into that house, no matter what. That ‘Rohan’ man is a monster.” Koichi was now fully convinced this guy was just trying to freak him out. Rohan did always have a reputation for being an eccentric, he’s bound to make a couple enemies…

“...Uh, listen, that’s really nice but I’ll be...leaving. Now. G-Goodbye!” Koichi quickly turned on his heel and hurried into Rohan’s house.

Weather thrust out his hand to try and stop him, but to no avail. He put his hand up to his cheek as he watched the door close. That poor boy...What’s going to happen to him…?

...Then, Weather felt a tapping on his shoulder.

“...Oi...Who the hell are you?” Weather whipped around.

And Weather came face to face with two delinquent high schoolers, one with a golden heart and peace sign pin in the lapels of his purple school uniform and a...frankly out-of-the-ordinary hairstyle, and the other with two curved scars on his face and a blue school uniform adorned with various currency symbols.

The one with the weird hair spoke up, hands in his pockets

“Hey...the way you were talking to Koichi right now was pretty damn suspicious. So I’ll ask again, who the hell are you?” “...Koichi…? (That must be the kid that just went into that monster’s house…)”

Weather Report put up his hands, showing he meant no harm. His Japanese is still a little rusty, but hopefully they should be able to understand him…

“...I am Weather Report. I am from Florida. Your friend is in danger, and he will be attacked by a stand user.”

The scarred one tilted his head up to stare down at Weather Report. “W-What…? Koichi’s in danger…?” The hairstyled one punched his fist into his hand. “See, Okuyasu, I TOLD you something was up with Koichi!” He looked back at Weather Report. “...Wait. How would you know about stand users? You seem like a normal guy...Do you have a stand?”
Weather Report thought for a second. “...I...had one. Once. I lost it, somehow, but I can still feel that I had one once.”

Okuyasu and his buddy leaned forward and made shocked sounds. “Eeehhh--?? You... lost a stand…? How can that happen…?” The purple guy shook his head. “N-Never mind! You can come along, anyways, since you know more about this punk than either of us do! I’m Higashikata Josuke...Or, wait, since you’re American, the names are switched, right…? In that case, I’m Josuke Higashikata, and this is Okuyasu Nijimura. We’re freshmen in high school.” Okuyasu raised his hand. “Yo!”

Josuke crossed his arms, thinking. “So, obviously, because we’re dealing with another enemy stand user, we’ve gotta think about this strategically!” Snap! “Got it! Okuyasu, you and Report-san can climb in through one of those windows in order to try and get Koichi, while I knock on the front door and get the enemy to answer and be distracted!”

“Sounds good to me, Josuke!!” Weather Report looked between the two. He understood about half of that...But he got the basic gist.

Okuyasu grabbed Weather Report’s hand and dragged him back behind the house.

“C’mon, Report-san! Time for some tactical sneaking action!”

Somehow, Weather feels like today’s going to give him even more of a headache than it already has.

Chapter Text

“...And that’s what happened! Since we’re in the water and on a tiny little island, I stuffed his body under the sofa!” Narancia nodded. “Yep! That’s what happened! Shot him through with more holes than a piece of swiss cheese, he’s completely unrecognizable!”

...They really hoped this worked. Abbacchio was always the sort not to skimp on details. But now, with one of his ears blocked by his headphones, blasting Monteverdi’s sweet songs through them, Mista and Narancia hoped he would at least let it slide.

Abbacchio squinted at the two of them before sighing. “I suppose it was just some random thug we didn't notice snuck into the turtle. Good work, you two. I guess.”

Mista pumped his fists in the air. “Woo! Hell yeah! Narancia, gimme 5!” “Yeah!” They high-fived.

Fugo sighed and slammed his book shut. “Will you two please be quiet…? I’m trying to read.”

Mista and Narancia looked at Fugo for a second before crossing their arms. “(Hardass…)”

A little bit later, Fugo gestured to Giorno. “Hey, Giorno? Excuse me, but could you pass me that water? I’m thirsty.” Giorno looked back at him. He had moved off of the small boat and was sitting on the steps, still paying close attention to the computer tracking Buccellati’s movements. “...And you’d better watch yourself. Right now, we still have orders to wait on the boat, without disembarking.”

Giorno just stared at him for a second before stepping back onto the boat to hand Fugo a bottle of water.

Mista and Narancia, meanwhile, started fighting, Mista holding up a box of a couple of chocolates while holding Narancia back. “Whoooaaa! Narancia, you bastard, what the hell’re you doin’?!” “H-Hey! Give that back!” Mista snickered.

“Heeeey~ This is chocolate! How come you get all the grub while we’re sittin’ on our asses here?!” “T-There’s only three left, dude! I bought those with my own cash, give it baaaack, c’mon! It’s not like we’re stranded in the mountains or somethin’!” Abbacchio and Fugo only half-bothered to notice it, mumbling things like ‘damn’ and ‘greedy fucker’.

...Then, suddenly, the chocolates were gone. Mista looked around on the ground, trying to see if they fell out somewhere. “...Wh...Huh…?” Narancia, meanwhile, was starting to cry. “M...Mista?! Y-You ate them…?!” He grabbed Mista by the cuff of his shirt. “You ate the WHOLE DAMN BOX! G-Give it BACK, god damn it! Y-You’d better pay me back for this shit! I thought we were a TEAM, you son of a bitch!!” Mista was unfazed.

“...What the hell is that on your face?” “...Eh?!”

Surprisingly, the chocolates were already in Narancia’s mouth. “WOAH!” “...Whaddya mean ‘woah’? Quit fuckin’ around. And when the hell’d you eat them, anyways?” Narancia just ignored him and savored the chocolates in his mouth. “Mmm, tasty~”

Fugo gulped down the last of his water and looked back over to Giorno. “...Oh! Did I say thanks yet, Giorno? ...Guess not. Thanks for the bottle of water.” ...Giorno was just confused, considering he didn't remember handing Fugo the bottle of water at all. “...Huh…?”

Then Giorno noticed wet paw marks on his pants. He looked around. The cats that had been to his right were now on his left, and were chewing on a dead fish. He didn't even feel any cats walking across him…

...Suddenly, Giorno got a very bad feeling running up his spine like a marathon runner going for the gold medal. He looked back to his friends. Nothing unusual with them. He looked up at the San Giorgio Maggiore bell tower.

...The bell tower… “This is...bizarre! I don’t know what’s going on, but this feels strange!” He got up from his seat and stepped up onto the island itself. The whole gang stopped and craned their necks over to him. Abbacchio spat out angry words at him. “DAMMIT, GIORNO, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! We had orders not to put a SINGLE FUCKING FOOT on the isl--”

And before Abbacchio knew it, he was on the island as well.

Giorno felt sweat pour down his face.

“T-This is...abnormal! What is this sensation…?! ...Damn! Something strange IS going on! Something’s happening to Buccellati! Did the boss--?!” “WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, GIORNO?!” Suddenly, Giorno broke off into a sprint, running further into the island and putting the walkie-talkie he had connected to Buccellati’s up to his ear.

“< Giorno, you there? >” “Yes! Buccellati, I know you’re on the move!”

“< If you’re looking for the location of the brooch on the boss, it’s currently below the spiral staircase inside the crypt! Roughly two meters from where it landed, next to the pillar! >”

“B-But, wait, Buccellati! Something unusual is happening at this VERY MOMENT!!”

...Radio silence. Giorno gulped.

“...B-Buccellati…? Buccellati...Hello? Buccellati, you read me?”

...Nothing. Giorno shook off any hesitancy he may have had and sprinted full force into the church. “BUCCELLATI, SOMETHING’S WRONG! RUN AWAY RIGHT NOW!!!”

Abbacchio reached a hand out for Giorno. “Giorno, you fucking idiot! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You’re going to get yourself killed--”

But by the time he had finished the sentence, Giorno was already long out of his reach.

Abbacchio promptly turned around, walked back to the boat, sat down on the bench, and punched the nearby concrete so hard that his hand bled a little. “...God. Fucking. DAMN IT. That little cocksucker is going to ruin the entire goddamn mission!” Mista and Narancia looked over to Abbacchio. Man, they hated angry Abbacchio. He was even worse to deal with than regular moody Abbacchio.

Narancia put his hands on his hips. “...So why don’t we just go in and grab him, then?” Fugo sighed and looked up from his book. “...Narancia, think for a second. If the boss is in there, and he sees us all running in like madmen, what do you think is going to happen? Is he going to realize this situation was a big mistake on everyone’s part and treat us all to squid-ink spaghetti with some fine white wine, or do you think he’s going to do his JOB and implicate all of us in fucking up the mission and kill us all?”

Narancia crossed his arms and sighed. “...Man, we’ve had no luck lately. It’s been stand attack after stand attack...I just hope Giorno and Buccellati come out alright.” Abbacchio groaned. “Ugh. Buccellati, maybe. Giorno doesn’t have any hope in there, since he explicitly went against orders. He’s going to get himself killed, just like I said.”

Narancia sat back down and frowned.

He looked back at the turtle, seeing it resting in the shadows underneath one of the boat’s seats, and’s that Anasui guy doing…?

Anasui, unsurprisingly, was not doing very good. Having caused himself some serious internal bleeding with his stand, more than he’d even wanted to in the first place, he had to keep using his stand to plug up a few holes in his veins and organs. On the downside, this caused him immense pain, drained his energy twice as fast, and put him at even more risk of dying from bleeding out. Hopefully he can make it until his wounds stop bleeding and resolve themselves.

...On the upside, he’s probably making a fantastic dead body...And if that’s what he has to do to get back to his beloved Jolyne, he’ll happily fake his own death thousands of times over.

Chapter Text

...As the universe itself recovered from Pucci’s fanatical reset, the last few ants were dropped off at their tiny anthills to resume their miserable ant lives.

Similarly, Emporio had arrived at the bus stop outside of Green Dolphin Street Prison, stumbling and out of breath. Honestly, he had barely a clue of what was happening.

Then, a bus rolled up to the bus stop, as busses are wont to do. Emporio looked behind him at the bus, wiping his tears away. “A...A bus…”

...And standing at the door of the bus was a very noisy lady.

A noisy lady who almost sounded...familiar…?

“I TOLD YA! I only have 50-dollar bills! Why the hell doesn’t this bus have any change?!” … “What, you gonna say that to a paying customer?!” … “...Fine, fine. Wait a second. I’ll go get some change from that gas station.”

Emporio realized that walking around the streets of Florida wearing a baseball cap and jersey isn’t much of a good idea and that taking a bus would be a much better one. “...A-Ah, all right! It stopped!” He hurried over to the bus, just in time to see the lady who had been complaining.

...Emporio’s jaw dangled open. What…

...W-What is going on…? This person looks just like…

“Hey, kid! You came at a good time! Got any change? I’ve got a 50…” Emporio said nothing. “...Right? It’s alright, yeah? This isn’t a fake bill or anything, this bus doesn’t take anything too big.”

Then the bus started and drove off, the look-alike’s bag being tossed straight out the door and onto the ground. She whipped around.

“WH--H-HEY!! HEY, WAIT, BASTARD! HE TOSSED MY LUGGAGE! ...When the hell did he start driving?!” She pointed at the bus and turned around to face Emporio.

...That person looks...looks just like…

...Just like...big sister Ermes…

“HEY! The bus drove off because you were so friggin’ slow! It’s two hours until the next bus comes! What the hell am I supposed to do now?! ...Are you even listening?!”

Emporio was just standing there, slack-jawed.

The Ermes doppelganger picked up her luggage. “...Shit! Maybe they thought I was an escapee from Green Dolphin Street or somethin’...”


Emporio was interrupted by a voice behind him. A tall man in a large purple coat and hat was leaning up against a silver-colored car.

“Hey! My car’s out of gas. If you give us gas and money for food, I’ll take you wherever you want.” He looked over to Emporio. “How ‘bout you, kid?”

...He almost looked like…

The Ermes look-alike turned away. “Is that how you save cash? My sister says I shouldn’t ride with strangers…”

...It’s starting to rain.

The man with the purple hat tilted it up.

...He looked just like Anasui…

“A storm’s coming, soon...I guess I’m fine with testing to see how well you two fare in the rain for two hours until the next bus comes.”

Emporio had thought he couldn’t be shocked enough. People who looked just like Anasui and Ermes...the only thing that could top it off would be…

“Get in, little boy. We’re not bad people. I’m Irene. His name’s Annakiss.”

...Someone that looked just sister Jolyne, had poked her head out of the car window. But, she had longer hair, and was wearing a sweater full of heart-shaped holes.

“Where’s your mom and dad? We’re going to see my father, y’know.” She gestured to Annakiss. “He’ boyfriend. I don’t know how it’ll go, but if my father says yes, we might get married.”

Emporio could feel that dryness and slight headache that goes with the sensation of a good, long, cry coming up.

The Ermes look-alike put her stuff in the trunk. “Shit, is there really a storm coming?! ...Fine, but I’m not payin’ more than 10 dollars, and I’m gonna have you guys stop by Cape Canaveral too!”

Irene got out of the car and took off her sweater. “What’s your name? C’mon, get in! We aren’t gonna take your money. Are you cold?”

...She had the telltale Joestar birthmark on the back of her left shoulder. Irene placed her sweater on Emporio. “Here.”

...Emporio just barely managed to murmur out a response. “...I’m...Emporio…” “Hm?”

He felt the tears come out.

“...Emporio...M-My...My name is Emporio…”

Irene sighed. “Aww. But, c’mon, get in, Emporio. We’ll take you back to your parents.” Despite knowing that was an impossibility considering his father is unknown and his mother died by Pucci’s hand, Emporio got in anyways, into the back seat.

Irene got back into the passenger’s seat. Annakiss cracked his neck and got a little gas from the gas station before getting back into the car. The Ermes look-alike huffed and hopped in the backseat next to Emporio.

And they started driving, the soft sound of rain pitter-pattering on the roof of the car mixing together with the radio softly playing ‘Little Guitars’.

Annakiss drove silently while the others chatted (of course, after Emporio had calmed down a little). Irene yawned. “So, what’s your name? Hitchhiker girl?” The Ermes look-alike spoke up. “Wh--H-Hey! My name isn’t just ‘hitchhiker girl`! It’s Elma! Elma Fitzgerald! I’ve got a sister back home in Poinciana named Desafina.” “Elma...Well, it’s good to meet you!”

Emporio just quietly sniffled. Irene...Annakiss...Elma...They’re almost their names. But...they’re off. Just by a little bit. Like the difference between a brand-name soda and a store-brand soda…

Irene yelled out. “Hey, look, Annakiss! Two hitchhikers!” “...I’m not picking up two more. Two I’d be fine with, but I dunno about four…” “Aw, c’mooon! You’re the one that was talking about a storm! Stop the car already!”

...On the side of the road were two people. One of them was a young man in a fluffy white hat with small horns on it along with a dark blue jumpsuit with various rhombus-shaped cuts.

And the other...appeared to be a girl.

A girl with two hair buns and light greenish-yellow hair intricately styled stuck in a bright orange parka stained with something red and some ripped blue jeans.

Emporio strained his neck to look out the window. He was only about 11, after all.

...He just barely managed to catch a glimpse of the hitchhikers.

He was about to yell for them to stop, but luckily Annakiss had too much compassion in him to just drive by two down-on-their-luck people in the rain. Immediately as they stopped, Emporio got up and unbuckled his seatbelt, stumbling out towards the door to unlock it and run out.

Elma thrust out a hand, yelling. “H-HEY! WHERE THE HELL’RE YOU GOING?!” Annakiss just sighed while Irene watched him open up the door confusedly.

Emporio fell face-down onto the sandy ground, but didn't even care. He peeled himself up off the ground and wiped his face off, stumbling forward towards the woman hitchhiker, who was peering off down the road.

He felt tears building up within his eyes again, something he thought was impossible considering how much he’s shed already.

This...This feels different…

He reached out and tugged on the woman’s parka.

She looked down at him.

...He had known with Irene. The facial structure was just a little off, as was the hair and the clothes. If a stranger looked at the two, at first they would look the same, but they’d eventually notice the difference.

That wasn’t true here.

This was definitely Jolyne.

And if it wasn’t Emporio’s confidence that it was her that could convince him, it would be the way the both of them broke down crying into happy tears and hugging him as tight as she could.

It would be their happiness at being reunited at last.

Chapter Text

Deep in the impenetrable fog between universes, a young man was traveling. A handsome young man with blonde hair that curled at the edges, dressed in a flowing pink garment.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows where he’s going.

...But he doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t know why he’s feeling compelled to do this.

He didn't care about Johnny. No, he didn't care about the corpse parts, either...and even as he hated to admit it, he had to leave his beloved country behind.

He just had this feeling.

This gut-wrenching, awful feeling.

This feeling that something, somewhere, was horribly, horribly wrong.

He didn't even know how he felt that, other than the aforementioned gut feeling.

...He’s met with other hims. That isn’t much of a surprise. [ Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap ] does allow him to visit other parallel universes, after all, as long as he doesn’t touch his copies.

He knows that there are strange people out there.

Strange Valentines.

Strange Valentines that would prefer to cause mayhem across several timelines, possibly all…

...Possibly all in the name of America. He won’t stand for it.

His is a great country. The most prosperous.

He must figure out what’s going on.

Chapter Text

Dio shrieked an unearthly yell as he aimlessly tumbled straight off of the pillar of stone and down onto the hard stone beneath.

“PAH!!” As Jotaro had stopped time in the middle of Zeppeli’s attack, the hamon master hadn’t even had the time to stop what he was doing.

Lucky thing Jotaro simply leaned back a little and dodged it.

Zeppeli landed on the narrow stone pillar with Jotaro, making it a rather cramped situation.

“Urk--!! M-Mister Jotaro! Where in God’s name did you come from?! And where’s Dio?!”

Jotaro flicked the brim of his hat and pointed over in the direction where he had sent Dio flying. Dio’s body was still on the ground, his mangled, broken body twitching and spasming.

Zeppeli grit his teeth, looking at Jotaro. “(...S-Such power...It’s almost terrifying just being in this man’s presence! He doesn’t even know hamon, and yet he was able to land such a clear hit on the loathsome vampire…!! We’re lucky he’s on our side!)” He looked down at Jonathan and Speedwagon. “JOJO! SPEEDWAGON! Hurry down to the ground! Fulfill your destinies and destroy Dio once and for all!”

Jonathan and Speedwagon, who had been staring shocked into silence at the whole scene, shook themselves out of it. “R-Right, master Zeppeli!” They whipped around and slid themselves down the rock face, pebbles flying out from under their feet as Jonathan slid down effortlessly and Speedwagon carefully stumbled and climbed his way down with Poco holding on for dear life and screaming his lungs out.

Dio Brando was on the ground, waiting for his injuries to heal. Even being a vampire, healing wasn’t instantaneous. And...that attack. Oh, that attack. In the span of less than a second, he was sent flying with both his legs broken, his lungs punctured, his nose crooked, and his sternum fractured! As blood flowed out of his wounds and his face, he could feel nothing but undeniable HATRED for that man. The man in purple with the leopard-print pants.

He reached out a hand to try and pull himself away from the group of his enemies as he could feel his leg repositioning itself, his bones rehealing.

...He got a foot stomping his hand into the ground for his troubles.

It was Jonathan, crossing his arms and staring down at him.

“...Dio...even as I look down at you now, I only feel nothing but pity for you. If only you had a better childhood, you could have turned out better...You are my brother first and my enemy second, no matter how evil you are!”

Dio, however, thought otherwise, grimacing up at Jonathan.

“...Kkkhhh...Hhhh...Damn it all...Jonathan...Don’t’ve won...just yet…!”

He smirked.

“If you think a lowlife like you is even worthy of being called the magnificent Dio’s brother...THINK AGAIN!” And he started laughing. “...Heheheheh, hahAHAHAHA! I STILL HAVE ONE TRICK UP MY SLEEVE, JOJO!”

In the blink of an eye, Jonathan’s entire leg had become frozen solid. Dio had frozen the hand Jonathan had stomped on, and he had frozen Jojo’s whole leg.

“W-What?! What is this?!” “ forget I have complete control over my own flesh!! I vaporized the water in the foot you stomped my hand with, and I took away the heat as well!”

Speedwagon finally arrived, panting and carrying his trusty sledgehammer with Poco in tow, who had scrambled away from him and was watching, stunned silent, from a safe distance.

“JOJO! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that vampiric scum in no time!” “S-Speedwagon, no!!” “I would think twice before doing that, you Ogre Street thug!”

Dio held up his other fist, hovering it next to Jonathan’s frozen, brittle leg.

“One wrong move and Jojo can kiss his right leg GOODBYE! If you kill me, who do you think will be around to give him a new leg after his current one is DESTROYED?!”

Speedwagon stopped, frozen in sudden fear at Dio. Even in a situation like this, he can still make things work out for himself…!!

“...How long do you think it will take for my legs to return to full strength…? Ten seconds? Five seconds?! It doesn’t matter! After I heal, I’ll kill you, Jojo! And following that, that disgusting thug, the Italian bastard, and that SON OF A BITCH WITH THE LEOPARD PRINT PANTS!!!!”

Jotaro and Zeppeli were watching the exchange from atop the stone pillar, squinting as they stared, their vision illuminated by the moonlight. Jotaro had his hands in his pockets.

“...Mr. Jotaro, you said you had something called a ‘stando’, am I correct?” “A stand.” “Ah, yes...and you say you remembered your grandfather using hamon…? What was your grandfather’s name?” “Doesn’t really matter, but his name was Joseph. Joseph Joestar.” “Joestar...Ahh, it is good to know that Jojo will make it through these trials alive! But that is no reason to rest! Come, let us help!”

Zeppeli hopped off and started to slide down the cliff face as well, followed by Jotaro. Jotaro was slightly annoyed at how the rocks were messing up his coat, but then again, what else is new?

Speedwagon stared down the malicious vampire. Inside him, flaring, was a new sense of purpose...a new sense of passion. On Ogre Street, he had gotten by via robbing random thugs and English nobles, using his razor-blade hat and his goons, but for the most part he felt as if he was a coward.

Now, looking at Dio...those feelings dissipated! For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could truly accomplish anything!

He...He felt as if he could beat Dio single-handedly!

Speedwagon pointed at Dio, slinging his sledgehammer down from his shoulder.

“You listen to me, you monster! You may mean a lot to Jojo, but you DON’T to me! I’ve seen the countless lives you’ve destroyed in order to gain the power you have now…”

He clenched his fist.


Screaming, he sprinted forward with his sledgehammer in both hands, moving to slam it straight down onto Dio’s head and completely destroy his brain. Jonathan reached out a hand. “Speedwagon! NO!”

Dio smirked.

In one impressive move, he kicked himself off the ground, him performing a fantastic headstand and moving his now-fully-healed leg down to block the attack. His eyes and fangs gleamed with maniacal, murderous intent.

“FOOL! YOU THINK YOU CAN KILL THE MIGHTY DIO WITH A SIMPLE HAMMER?! THAT’S IT! JOJO CAN WAVE GOODBYE TO HIS LEG!” Jonathan clenched his fists, bracing for the impact of his leg being shattered into bits.


A small, sharp disc of a clear liquid had hit Dio square in the eye, slicing it wide open and spurting blood onto both the ground and the rest of his body. His confident expression turned to one of shock. “W-WHAT?!”

William Anthonio Zeppeli stepped forward, hands on his hips in his natural, effeminate gait. “My, my~! Out of all of our adversaries, you should have been the one to be aware of all our techniques, Dio!” He pointed to the nearby lake, the one Mr. Jotaro had fallen in. “I took some pool water from the lake into my mouth, infused it with hamon, and shot it at you!”


Zeppeli grabbed Jonathan from behind and carefully dragged him away from Dio, his leg still frozen solid. “...H-Haa...m-master Zeppeli…!! Y-You saved me!!” “Indeed, Jonathan. But there was nothing else I could do! Stand with your weight focused on your good leg! Speedwagon will take care of you!”

Speedwagon let go of his sledgehammer, tossing it behind him as he hurried over to Jonathan and softly hurried him away from the vampire.

Dio, meanwhile, covered the blood-soaked half of his face as he staggered to his feet. “G-Ggaaahhh...You pieces of shit...You are all nothing more than...mangy dogs spitting your foam into the eyes of fate…!! You are all fated to die by my hand! YOU WILL ALL BE KILLED BY ME! DIO!”

“Put a sock in it.”

Jotaro approached, coming up next to Zeppeli.

“Oh, Mr. Jotaro! You arrived after all! What would be the best way to dispose of this malicious being…?”

Jotaro just sighed and shook his head. “Believe me, I would tear him into pieces if I could. But it looks like we’ve got company.” He pointed over to the graveyard where they had been fighting.

Two giant figures were lumbering their way.

Zeppeli looked over towards them, a few drops of sweat trickling down his face. “...W-Who…?!”

He looked back at Dio.

...Or, where Dio was.

He had disappeared.

Dio was currently making a strategic retreat. He’s very lucky his legs still work...but of course, he didn't think that himself. He was simply cursing that group of pests over and over again in his head for delivering him insults of the highest caliber to his mighty self as he gracefully and blisteringly quickly bounded towards the town where the group was originally headed.

...Damn it...Jojo…

He will pay for this.

Chapter Text

As Joseph stepped off the boat, along with Caesar and Lisa Lisa, as well as the foreigner Ermes, he couldn’t help but have this underlying, menacing feeling bubbling within him. Nonetheless, when Lisa Lisa started giving explicit instructions to the three, he wised up and listened, Caesar listening intently as well and Ermes trying to figure out what was going on with her hand on her hip.

“Jojo! Your final trial with instructor Loggins is upon you. Head to the adjacent island with the field of spikes and meet with him. Go, you have no time to waste!”

Joseph dutifully saluted, nodding. “Gotcha, master Lisa Lisa!” And off he went, sprinting while keeping up his breathing.

She turned to Caesar. “Caesar! Your final trial with instructor Messina is due. Scale one of the towers to the right and balance yourself on the tightrope.” Caesar bowed respectfully. “I shall do my best, master Lisa Lisa.” And off he went, dutifully marching towards the two towers.

Ermes watched the both of them go, yawning. Man, she has NO CLUE what is going on. Hamon, Air Supplena, Loggins and Messina...What the hell is even happening?

Lisa Lisa turned towards Ermes and pointed at her. “And you...Ermes, was it?”

Ermes snapped herself out of her daydreaming state and pointed at herself. “...Er, me?” “Yes. I’d actually like you to come with me. I’d like to talk to you privately. I have some questions I’d like to ask you.”

She gestured for her to follow, and started walking. Ermes followed her as well.

She scratched the back of her head. Jeez, it’s a little awkward just following her silently. Maybe if she can make some small talk…?

“...(koff) SO,’s-is, uh, is Lisa Lisa really your name? I mean, no offense if it is, but it’s just kinda unusual.” Back at Green Dolphin, the enemies and people she met usually had weird names, but she figured that they were aliases or something.”

“If you don’t mind me being rude, let me ask you a question first. Are you familiar with ‘pillar men’?” “...Pillar what?” “...I suppose that answers my question. Then, no, Lisa Lisa is not my real name. But I must keep my real name hidden. If I tell you, do you swear not to tell Joseph or Caesar?”

Ermes scratched her dreads. “...Uh...yeah. Lips sealed. Zip.” She made a zipping motion over her mouth and pretended to throw away the key, which was weird considering she made a zipper motion.

Lisa Lisa thought for a second, opening the door to one of the complex, castle-like buildings along the edge of the island. “...Okay. I trust you. I don’t know what it is, but I trust you.”

Ahem. “My name is Elizabeth Joestar.”

Ermes coughed. “So?” “...So?” “Yeah, so? I dunno why you had to make such a big deal about it. I’ll call you Lise. Rolls off the tongue a lot better than Lisa Lisa.”

Lisa Lisa sighed as she motioned for Ermes to follow up the stairs. “ Jojo’s mother.”

“...Ssssssssso?! Why the hell’re you being so enigmatic about this sorta thing?! He ain’t around to hear it! Look, I’ll say my own damn name! I’m Ermes Declanes Costello! I’m from Florida, but my dad’s Mexican!”

Lisa Lisa stopped and looked at Ermes for a second before sighing. “You’re such a brash’s surprising to see that around here...what year did you say you were from?”

“2011.” “2011? Goodness. You certainly have come back a long ways...but, I invited you here, to my room, to ask you a few questions. Especially about this…’stand’ thing.”

Ermes shrugged and didn't ask any more questions. She feels like if she kept on asking questions, she’d either get a headache or get kicked out. Or both. So, best to keep her mouth shut, at least for now.

Lisa Lisa opened the door to a sparsely-decorated, yet suitably elegant place about the size of an apartment building. Ermes looked around, oohing and aahing at the marvelous architecture. “Damn. This place is bitchin’! All the gothic architecture and shit looks so cool…” “Yes. I don’t know the specifics, but it must have been constructed at least 500 years ago.”

Suddenly, a young, pretty woman with blonde hair and a soft face with a few roses tucked into her hair turned the corner, holding a tray of food. A steaming bowl of what looked like meat stew and some fresh vegetables with a glass of water.

Maestro Lisa Lisa! Your evening meal is rea--”

She was interrupted by Ermes whipping around and throwing a haymaker at her. Very, very luckily for her, Ermes was able to stop her fist just before it hit the woman’s nose. Immediately, she pulled back her hands and put them up, nervously smiling. “Ah--!! Shit, sorry about that! Force of habit, y’know...”

The young woman was frozen, legs shaking a little and face pale before she was able to eke out an “I-It’s...fine…( Buon Dio, era spaventoso… )”

Lisa Lisa, surprisingly, cracked a small smile. “Ermes, this is Suzi Q. She is my assistant here at Air Supplena island. Suzi Q, this is Ermes Costello. She is an acquaintance I made on the way here.”

Ermes waved. “...Uh...hi. Sorry for the bad first impression, I guess?” Suzi Q quickly shook her head and went back to her bubbly appearance. “It’s nothing~! Ermes, are you hungry? I can make you a second serving of what the master’s having, if you want.” Ermes’ stomach grumbled. Jeez, when even was the last time she ate? Green Dolphin?

“...Yeah, I’ll happily get some food.” Suzi Q smiled and set down the food she had on her tray, moving back towards where, presumably, the kitchen was. Ermes looked out the window. “...Jeez, now that I look out the window, It’s real dark. What time is it?” Lisa Lisa thought for a moment.

“...It should be about 12:30 am.”

“Really? That late, huh…” “You can rest, if you want. We can talk more extensively later.”

Ermes sat down on the nearby bed and sighed. “No...I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, either way. You can ask whatever fuckin’ questions you want to, I just need a second to relax.”
Lisa Lisa sat down next to her. “You sound exhausted...What happened to you?”

Ermes told her what happened.

Lisa Lisa sat, shocked at her story. “...My goodness, it’s almost too unbelievable to be true...but, of course, you can’t take everything with doubt in this world. Please, show me your ‘stand’ again.”

Ermes rubbed the back of her neck. Telling that whole story only winded her out even more...And it only reminded her why she was here. If she sees that fucker Pucci, she’s going to punch a hole straight through his skull. “...Alright. But only if you show me some ‘hamon’ afterwards, alright?” “Understood.”

Ermes stood back up and rolled her shoulder, cracking her neck. “Alright then. Here goes nothin’.”

Kiss !” As she had seen back on the boat, Lisa Lisa could only just barely make out the faintest impression of a strange, humanoid figure next to her.

Ermes put out her palm, and out came a few stickers. She peeled off one and bent down, taking her shoe off. “Watch this.” She went over to the window and opened it up. Sticking the lip-marked sticker on her shoe, it produced an exact copy. She now had three shoes. Though, that was to be expected.

Rearing up a little, she tossed the duplicate shoe that had been created straight out the window and onto the ground far, far below.

“Then…” Ermes tore the sticker off the shoe.

The shoe she had thrown out the window suddenly flew in from the bottom of the window, and just in time, she dropped the shoe she was holding.

The two forcibly re-combined, resulting in one of her shoes being covered in cuts and gashes. She put it back on anyways.

Lisa Lisa nodded. “...Intriguing. And you say this helps you in fights?” “Hell yeah! This ability just begs for some creative thinking since it isn’t just a straight physical attack stand.” She sounded like some expert on this type of stuff when she said it like that...Heh, cool. Ermes sat back down, with a boosted ego and a torn-up shoe.

“Your turn! Show me some of that ‘hamon’ stuff!”

“Very well. Would you pass me that glass of water?”

Ermes stared at her for a second before remembering the glass of water Suzi Q had brought them, picking it up and handing it to her. “Thank you.”

Lisa Lisa took some deep breaths as she held onto the glass of water.

Then, she turned it upside-down, and remarkably the water stayed inside the glass and did not fall out, slight orange sparks jumping and fizzling about it. Ermes stared at it, slightly impressed, but mostly disappointed. “...Is that it…?”

Lisa Lisa shook her head. She brought her other hand to the bottom of it, touching the surface of the water with two fingers as more orange sparks flickered around it.

...Incredibly, the entirety of the water in the glass came out as Lisa Lisa raised the hand holding the cup. It still kept its shape, softly jiggling like gelatin. Ermes stared, even if she was trying not to be impressed.

Lisa Lisa twirled the cup in her hand and moved it back under the water, Lisa Lisa effortlessly replacing the water in the cup without so much as a drop spilling out.

She handed it back to Ermes.

“Here you go.”

Ermes stared at the glass of water, shaking her head to snap herself out of the amazed stupor she was in.

“...I…(pheeeew) Wow.” She realized she was supposed to be tough. “I mean--pff, yeah, sure. Cool, or, whatever.”

Lisa Lisa just sighed, cracking that faint, nigh-imperceptible smile of hers.

“That’s all I have to show you for tonight. I will stay awake and watch Jojo and Caesar train. You get some rest. If you are to join us on our quest to stop the pillar men, you will need your sleep.”

“Amen to that, sister.” Ermes yawned. She was...very tired. So much has happened, so many things, and...she just needed a nap.

Ermes almost laid down on the bed she was sitting on before remembering she was in someone else’s house.

“O-Oh! I--”

“You’re free to use my bed, if you want. I don’t need to use it tonight, since I’ll be staying awake.”

“...Alright then.”

And Ermes promptly passed out into the sheets, fully clothed.

That night, Ermes dreamt that she had a fish in her ear, and that an external brain was screaming at her.

She woke up the following morning disappointed to find that not only did she not have a fish in her ear, the external brain also appeared to be screaming even louder than in her dreams.

Chapter Text

“Luckily, my cornea wasn’t cut, so they said my wounds should heal quickly. When I was in middle school, a classmate got his eye squashed with a baseball, but he was fine the next day. He just lost some of the fluid in his eye, apparently.”

Polnareff leaned back in his seat, laughing. “Hahahahaha! Ewww, that is DISGUSTING! How do you even fix something like that…? Do you just stick a needle in the eye and go ‘pshtththwthwthwtw’?? Hahaha!”

Joseph shuddered. “Jeez, Polnareff, quit it with the eye injury’s bad enough we’ve gotta deal with Kakyoin in the hospital like this!”

Kakyoin shook his head, smiling. “Hahah, no, no, Joestar-san. I don’t mind.”

Foo Fighters popped in. “Hey, yeah! I’m curious about that kinda thing, too...usually, when one of my friends got their eye scratched up, I just patched it up with some plankton…”

Kakyoin quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head. “...Hm? That was a woman’s voice...did Anne return?” Jotaro spat at the mention of her. Damn brat. “No. She’s some different random girl we picked up that apparently has a stand.”

F.F. smiled. The group had come in to talk to Kakyoin, his eyes apparently having been injured in a fight with an enemy stand user. He had bandages around his eyes, so obviously he couldn’t see, but he could still hear.

“Yeah! My name’s Foo Fighters, but people just call me F.F.! Or...wait, Japanese guys put the last name first, right? So...I guess I’d be Fighters Foo, right? My stand’s also called Foo Fighters .”

Kakyoin nodded. “I see. You’re tagging along with Joestar-san and the rest, then, Fighters-san?” “Yeah! I even killed an enemy stand user already!” He whistled. “Impressive! I wonder how you would stack up to my Hierophant Green …” She snickered a little. “ Hierophant Green ? Funny name for a stand...Guess that’s how people here name them.”

“Yes, I’re American, right?” “Yep! Florida!” Kakyoin laughed a little. “Hahah, I’ve never been to America...but it sounds like a wonderful place, right, Joestar-san?”

Joseph grinned widely as a response before remembering Kakyoin couldn’t see.

“Er...Yeah! America’s great! You, me, Jotaro, Polnareff, and Avdol should go visit sometime! ...Oh, and of course, F.F. and Iggy, too!” The group reacted favorably. Save, of course, for moody ol’ Jotaro, who just sighed.

“Hey, madame Fighters! You comin’ onto the boat?”

Polnareff waved over the deck to Foo Fighters, who was drinking a bottled water she had gotten from the hospital.

In order to get from Aswan, where the hospital was, to Cairo, they would have to travel a ways down the Nile river.

She wiped her mouth and waved back. “Nah! Remember, I’m made of plankton! Water’s my specialty!” Polnareff shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

And they set out on the boat. Or, Joseph, Jotaro, Polnareff, Avdol, and Iggy set out on the boat. Foo Fighters happily swam behind them, relishing the feeling of water all around her. Ahhh...this is the life.

...Hm? What’s going on over there?

Across the bank of the river, there appeared to be a group of three or so people yelling at a younger man.


One of the older men spat. “Feh! What kind of a man ARE you? Are you really my son?” Another one laughed. “Heh heh heh, your cows AND your son are just like you, Abaranch! Ha ha ha…”

The young man behind them was lagging, carrying a rake. He looked a bit scolded at his father’s yelling, but the look on his face showed that this sort of thing happened all the time.

...While Chaka, the young man, was walking, he noticed something on the ground.


Chaka bent down to pick it up, looking it over. Of course, after a few seconds, his father stomped over to grab it after one of his friends had pointed it out. “GIMME THAT! Someone musta dropped it!” One of his father’s coworkers ogled the ornate sheath and hilt. “A sword…! I can’t believe someone left it just lying around!”

Chaka’s father gazed at the sword a little closer. “...It’s not fake…! It looks real expensive, too!”

His father’s coworker smiled. “You don’t might be an artifact? Draw the sword. You gonna turn it into the police?” “Don’t be stupid! This could be worth a LOT of money!” “If it’s blunt, it’s not worth anything! Pull it out already!” “OF COURSE!”

Chaka watched his father start to pull the sword out, internally wondering where the sword had come from. As far as he knows, there aren’t any military outposts or museums nearby…

...His father started to struggle with the unsheathing, to the point where he was sweating. “H-Hghk--!! W-What the…?! It...I-It won’t come out! It won’t even budge!”

Abaranch’s friend snatched it from him. “Here, let me try.” He held out the sword to the co-worker. “You hold that end.” “All right.”

The two of them pulled as hard as they could, but nothing happened, even with Chaka’s muscular father pulling as well. “W-We can’t do it…! Maybe it’s rusted shut...dammit!”

Chaka put out his hand. “Can I try?”

Abaranch immediately shouted back at him. “SHUT UP! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO IT IF I CAN’T?! IDIOT!”

They all let go, the sword harmlessly clanking to the ground. Chaka’s father’s coworker wiped his forehead before noticing something on his left hand.

...It was a huge gash.


It spurted a generous amount of blood, him falling to the ground.

“AAGGHHH!!! M-My hand...My hand!! My hand is sliced opeeeen! did it cut me?! I-I didn't even touch it! I only grabbed the hilt!”

Abaranch’s co-worker stammered. “Th...Th-There’s something weird with that sword…”

Chaka rubbed his chin a little in thought. “...Um...Can I try too?”


Chaka was handed the sheath. Taking hold of the hilt, and taking a deep breath beforehand, he pulled.

Effortlessly, the sword slipped out. Chaka shot a confused look at the thing. “...It...came out...b-but I didn't put any strength into it…”

He moved a little closer. Something sounded like it was coming from the sword.

Almost like it was...whispering to him.

“What’s that sound? It’s like...I can hear something coming from the sword…”

His father’s coworker gasped. “Look! Look how sharp it is! I-I dunno anything about swords...but this is the most BEAUTIFUL sword I’ve ever seen!” Abaranch shouted with excitement.

“AMAZING! IT’S IN PERFECT SHAPE!” He got up behind Chaka and grabbed him from the sides, shaking him. “What a great find! Fortune SMILES upon us! Give it to me! You shouldn’t be holding it!” “A-Ah…!!”

Involuntarily, the sword had fallen back over Chaka’s shoulder, and stabbed his father straight in the chest.

“W-WHAT?!” His father staggered back, bleeding. “...H...H-Hey...Why...W-Why did it…?!”

“F-FATHER! I-I don’t know, you-you-you were standing behind me, and, and...I-It’s not my fault!” The two others scrambled over to Abaranch. “The hell are you doing?! Hurry, we need to take him to the hospital!”

Foo Fighters had stopped following the group. She was too intrigued by what was going on on the shorefront, watching as it had taken place. She flinched hard when Chaka accidentally stabbed his father, but knew it was most likely an accident. She wonders if she should go and help…

Abaranch had fallen, and the sword was sticking straight up out of his chest.

His co-worker had bent down and was trying to pick him up.

So it’s no surprise that the sword, at that moment, suddenly lurched to one side and seamlessly slit through the co-worker’s head like butter, right?

The co-worker dropped dead as well, the only other person from Chaka left being his father’s friend.

“AAIIIEEEEEEEE!! T-This sword…!! It’s NOT NORMAL! Like...i-it had its own free will or something!”

Chaka was staring down at the sword, hyperventilating and sweating. His mind was racing, but no coherent thought could be made. He was just the son of a farmer, he didn't know how to react to killing his father and his father’s coworker.

The sword spoke to him in a charming, yet gravelly voice, dripping with malice.

“Calm down, Chaka. Let your heart grow still.”

“Their deaths are nothing. Nothing…”

He wiped away some of his sweat, panting.

“...Wh...W-Who...who are you…? I-I can’t see you, but...I-I hear...a voice…”

“I am the stand of the god Anubis.”

“The god of the underworld…”

“...Spirit of death and mummification…”

“You have unsheathed me. You will be my stand user.”

“You are my body.”

“I will make you a master of the sword.”

“No one is stronger than you…”

“...Use me! And KILL!”

Chaka suddenly stood back up straight again, now with an evil, pitch-black look in his eyes.

He glared at the only surviving member of the original group.

“...Father and he deserved to die. I’ll cut you in half, t--.”

Chaka was very rudely interrupted by a plankton bullet straight to the back of his head, killing him instantly.

Chaka flopped down dead on the ground, the exit wound leaking a mixture of black and red.

Abaranch’s friend shrieked and scrambled away, the cow they were leading towards his farm mooing loudly and gallivanting away as well.

Foo Fighters came ashore, sopping wet and in the process of de-morphing her hand from a plankton gun into a regular hand. “I just had this gut feeling...something was always up with that sword. Looking back, maybe I should have piped up earlier...But, oh well! Can’t fix the past, right?”

Using the plankton that was flooding out of Chaka’s head, she delicately pushed the sword back into its sheath, picking it up once it was completely in, with no blade showing.

“This thing practically radiates bad news. I’d better show it to that Joseph guy and his friends...Maybe they could figure out a way to use this thing to their advantage?”

...However, the more she stared at the sword…

The more enticing it became.

“...Uh...well, maybe...maybe that one time was just a fluke. People have psychotic breaks all the time, right? Plus, it looked...really nice. Real shiny, too...maybe peek…?”

Slowly, slowly she unsheathed it, taking it the beautiful, glamorous sparkling of its silvery blade.

And the voice had begun speaking to her.

“...Girl...I noticed you watching us. You shot down my former master...but now, my skills have been passed to a new master.”

Foo Fighters looked around a bit before remembering what Chaka had been muttering to himself. “...What the hell…? Is this the ‘voice’ that Chaka guy was talking about…?”

You will become my new ‘stand user’. The user of the god Anubis.”

“I trust you will do an excellent job in using me…”

“I shall teach you the ways of the blade.”

F.F. was forcibly closing her eyes, trying to resist.

“You will cause countless bloodshed!”

A-And yet, with every bombastic statement this sword made, it becomes more and more persuasive.

“Power...this power will be all yours!”

S-She can’t...hold out...much longer…!!


Foo Fighters finally opened her eyes.

And she only had one mission on her mind.

“...Kill Joseph...Dismember Polnareff...Split Jotaro in two…! Kill ALL of them…! I am the greatest swordswoman in this modern world...they said they were going to Cairo…”

She smirked.

“...I believe I’ll meet them there. I’ll give THEM a surprise, that’s for sure…”

Chapter Text

Okuyasu and Weather Report circled around to the back of Rohan’s house, chatting.

“You’re tellin’ lost a stand?” “Yes.” “...Damn...that’s rough. I’ve just got the one. The Hand . It scrapes away space, and the stuff in between smashes together!”
He clapped his hands together, snickering. Weather Report just nodded and looked at the house.

“You ‘member what it did?” “...Unfortunately, no. I don’t even remember its name...My mind is a fog. Rohan Kishibe took my memories, but I can at least remember a little bit…”

Okuyasu whistled. “Damn, alright! You ain’t gotta get so poetic ‘bout it...Here, c’mon, help me up to the window.”

Using Weather Report, functionally, as a stepstool, Okuyasu clambered up the side of the house, grabbing onto the bottom of the window.

He can hear talking…He peeked his head over the windowsill to see inside. The most he could see, however, was Rohan diligently scribbling down on a piece of paper, and some small figure further into the room.

“Whoa, shit, that must be that Rohan guy you mentioned, right…? Isn’t he some famous mangaka or another?” “I guess so.” “Shh!! He might hear us!!”

Okuyasu kept watching, when Rohan suddenly snapped his head back towards the door to his work area, barking out some sentence or another.

Seeing the opportunity, Okuyasu took his chance. He hoisted himself up to the window and pulled it open, grinning widely.

Of course, Koichi had to blow his (admittedly poor) cover.


Okuyasu sniffed and rubbed his nose, pointing at Rohan.

“Eaaaaasy now, asshole. Don’t move one muscle, or I’ll obliterate you with my stand!”

Rohan didn't move.

Koichi finally came back into view, his face open and full of pages like a book.

“I-I don’t know how you knew, but…”

He started weeping.

“...B-But I’m so happy!!”

Rohan sighed. “It might look like a lucky guess...but I just realized this. Koichi, the wound on your hand was a dead giveaway that something was wrong. You must’ve caught it on something while you were crawling around, it’s bleeding.”

Koichi looked at his hand. True to the bastard’s words, it was most certainly bleeding. “Huh?”

“...I...didn't even notice…”

Rohan snickered, still turned away from Okuyasu yet smirking confidently.

“That’s how you knew, right? Nijimura Okuyasu? Your stand name i--”


Rohan shut up, frowning again as Okuyasu got up out of the window and got fully into the room, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“That wasn’t at all the way I found out, ya dumbass! And if you think I’m gonna tell you how, you can head on STRAIGHT TO HELL!”

Rohan rubbed his chin, thinking, before he sighed. “...He got out, didn't he? That man...Wes Bluemarine. Born Domenico Pucci. Lost his memories, and had a stand. I knew I should have put my ‘safety lock’ on him as well...Tch, how foolish of me.”

He swiveled around in his chair, staring at Okuyasu intently.


He stared up at Okuyasu.

“Okuyasu...I’m not really interested in you, especially considering my best material’s escaped...but I have no choice. Anyone who enters this building becomes material for me.”

Okuyasu twitched and grit his teeth before charging forward, [ The Hand ] appearing with a resounding metallic vibrance, moving to swipe at Rohan, scraping him away from existence forevermore.

In the blink of an eye, however, Rohan grabbed a nearby ink pen and paper, inking up a double-page spread faster than any normal human could be thought to have possibly managed. Smirking, he held it up to Okuyasu.

“WHAT?!” He hesitated for a moment, but that was all it took for him to see the drawing.

Even when he was thought to have punched straight through the paper and shrieked out a ‘BASTAAAAAARD!!!’, all that happened was that The Hand ’s arm, and by extension Okuyasu’s arm, unraveled into paper.



The effect reverberated throughout his entire body, reducing Okuyasu to little more than a vague, human-shaped pile of coiled papers. Rohan didn't even bother to look at him, instead turning his attention over to the entrance to the hallway.

“Higashikata Josuke…”

“...I know you’re there.”

Outside, Weather Report had stacked up a few barrels that he had ‘borrowed’ from the backyard of a nearby house, climbing up to the window himself. He adjusted his hat a little as he pulled himself up onto the windowsill, peering through while making sure not to be seen. He was just in time to see Okuyasu unravel due to the effects of Heaven’s Door .

Weather winced at seeing him collapse, then realized that the window was still open. Okuyasu hadn’t even bothered to close it...what an idiot.

Seeing Rohan snap around to talk to Josuke, he had very carefully slunk into the room, hiding down behind Rohan’s desk.

Damn it...He wishes he could do more! But, without that stand of his...he’s no better than an ordinary human.

He’ll have to lay low for now and catch Rohan off-guard in a surprise attack later.

Rohan was in his seat, intently staring off at the doorway to the nearby hallway, formulating his next actions as carefully as possible.

Meanwhile, Okuyasu was screaming.


Rohan snipped at him. “Tch. Shut up.” He then sighed, looking back at Koichi.

“...Koichi. I have two questions for you. You can think about them separately or at the same time, if you like.”

“Firstly, why do you think Higashikata Josuke is hiding behind that door? And secondly...Why do you think Wes Bluemarine is hiding behind my desk?”

Weather Report felt his blood run cold, hearing Rohan mention someone hiding behind his desk. But...Wes Bluemarine? That name sounds...familiar. But...he can’t place it…

“Well? What do you think? Why won’t they come out, Koichi-kun?”

Koichi looked at him, simultaneously terrified and a little confused. “...H-Huh…? Well, Josuke is trying to avoid looking at your artwork, but...I don’t know what you’re talking about with a ‘Wes’ guy…”

It was a lucky thing he was hiding behind one of the sections of the desk with drawers. They couldn’t see him.

“Wes...maybe you met him earlier, Koichi. A young man with a white hat and strange clothing...He certainly didn't look Japanese. Picture him in your mind…”

Koichi thought for a bit before remembering. “A-Ah! Yeah, I do remember...w-wait, why am I telling you this?!”

“Oh, no reason. I just figured he would try to warn you, if he escaped last night and you came in today. Apart from got the statement about Josuke right, at least. You’re so smart.” He smiled down at Koichi. “Nijimura Okuyasu, not knowing about Heaven’s Door , fell right into my trap. Unfortunately, because of that, I tipped my hand to Josuke.”

“Additionally, seeing as Wes is currently right behind me, he could attack me at any time. Plus, seeing as he could have come in at any time, he would know how Heaven’s Door is activated. He would just have to close his eyes.”

“Both of those things are definitely very bad. I feel as if I’m at a disadvantage...but, therefore, Josuke and Wes must both have a reason for not coming out. What do you think that is? In order to counter Josuke, I could chase him from behind the door, but then that would give Wes time to save you two. And if I turn around, going after Wes, Josuke could easily defeat me…”

Weather, behind the desk, was getting a little worried, but was still trying to think of a plan. This man is much more calculating and strategic than anyone he remembers facing...What is he supposed to do? Run? How many other stand users are even in this town? He could get arrested...

Okuyasu piped up. “Josuke’s...Josuke and that Wes guy’s just tryin’ ta figure out the best way to beat you to a pulp!”

Rohan snickered a little. “Heheh...that’s true, I suppose, but it isn’t the answer I wanted.”

“See, the answer I was expecting was that Higashikata Josuke is currently thinking, ‘should I cut my losses and escape alone?’ As for Wes, I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing...After all, he’s only met you two for, at most, three minutes. What difference would it make to him if you died?”

Koichi and Okuyasu gulped. “E-Escape?!” “No way! Nobody’s gonna be that callous, an’ Josuke would NEVER do that!”

Rohan reached over to his desk and picked up two face-shaped pieces of paper.

“...Hmph. Yes, Koichi, your file says Josuke would never do such a thing as abandon his friends. However, as any mangaka worth his salt would do, I need to think about a problem from all angles and possibilities…’What would I do if I were a manga protagonist?’ That sort of thing.”

“In this situation, Josuke clearly knows how my stand works, and it would be very inconvenient for him to escape. Wes, on the other hand, is quite the wrathful person. He shows off for women, and while he still does care for his friends, he can come off as rude and rather...callous, to strangers. There isn’t any way he would try to save you two. He’s the one that’s more likely to escape, but he doesn’t know anybody here. He doesn’t know who could be a stand user or who’s just a normal person. There isn’t a point in escaping.”

Okuyasu thought a bit more. “...E-Escape...I got it! This is great! Josuke could go call Jotaro! Or go tell Yukako, oh, if she knew how Koichi was doin’, she’d FREAK!”

“Y-Yeah! With her hair, it’d be a snap! (I-I don’t really wanna see her again, though…)”

Weather sighed internally, thinking about how little faith these people have in him to not even trust him to go and find these people...wait, he just learned their names! Maybe that was their way of telling him…!

“LET’S DO IT! WE GOTTA TELL JOSUKE!” Rohan grabbed Okuyasu’s hand as he thrust it out, the paper crumpling a little. “IDIOT! I told you all that so they wouldn’t try anything! I’ve already written my ‘restraints’ all over your body!” He threw Okuyasu’s hand to the ground, frowning.

“Tell him, Koichi. Explain it to him slowly, like you’re talking to a child.”

Koichi crawled over and read Okuyasu’s hand.


“W-What?! What the hell’s it say?!”

“N-No way! It...I-It CAN’T BE! There’s no way either of them could escape with this!”

“THAT’S WHY I ASKED WHAT THE HELL IT SAID, DAMMIT!” Okuyasu raised his hand a little to read it himself.

‘The very moment Higashikata Josuke or Bluemarine Wes inconveniences Rohan Kishibe, I will commit suicide by self-immolation.’

Chapter Text


“...W-What the hell…?”

“Buccellati, mind explaining what the hell’s going on? What are you doing?!”

Bruno turned towards his gang...his friends.

After Giorno had ran in foolishly, the rest of the group sat tight, not wanting to be branded as ‘not following instructions’.

Of course, one of them had to crack first.

Narancia was the first one. Even though he had only known Giorno for a short while, he grew to be someone the short boy considered a friend and admired, despite being older than him by a few years. He got up and scrambled off the boat.

Of course, someone had to go in and get him. Mista immediately got up as well and followed after.

Fugo knew the two would get them all killed if they did anything stupid, so he reluctantly put his book down and hurried in.

And finally, Abbacchio came. Still wanting to follow the boss’ orders down to a tee or risk losing everything, he had to convince himself that the whole operation was taking much longer than it needed to, and that something must have gone wrong. So, he was the last to come in.

Now, they were all gathered on the steps of the dock of the San Giorgio Maggiore bell tower, watching him.


He sighed.

“Right...I’ll get straight to the point. There’s not a lot I can explain. We don’t have much time, and danger is closing in with each and every second.”

Bruno put his foot down.

“The reason I brought Trish back is because I’ve TURNED TRAITOR AGAINST THE BOSS! This is where we part ways! If you follow me, you’ll be branded TRAITORS as well!”

Everybody was stunned into silence. Nobody knew what to say. They all knew what turning traitor against the boss would mean for a gangster like Bruno. them. Giorno looked off into the sea.

“Wh...What??” “I-I don’t get it, what did you just say?” “He said he’s...t-turned TRAITOR against the boss!”

Fugo stared at him, panting. “...W...W-Why…?”

“The answer to that one you’re better off not knowing. None of you are involved in this matter.” Giorno looked back over to him.

“I think you should explain. Some of them might choose to stay.”

Bruno looked at him. And then Bruno ended up looking at Abbacchio throttling Giorno.

WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH , GIORNO! When the fuck will you ever learn how to listen to orders?! You even barged into the church like a goddamn MADMA--”

Suddenly, Bruno clutched his head and swayed a little, falling to his knees. Cold sweat overtook his face.

“U...Urrnghhh…” Narancia stepped forward a little, but Giorno knelt down and put a hand on his back. “B-Buccellati?!” “What’s wrong, Bruno? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Slowly, he got back up. “It’s nothing. I’m just...a little dizzy after losing so much blood.”

“That can’t be right...I replenished your blood when I was creating your transplants. Do you still have untreated wounds somewhere?”

“Then I’m just tired...I’ll be fine.”

Giorno looked a bit worriedly at Bruno before his eyes trailed down to Bruno’s hand.

His hand was totally pierced by a small metal spike on the stair, but...there wasn’t any blood. In fact, all that appeared to remain were a few crumbs of flesh and a loose, light bloodstain on the spike. Almost like you had run a needle through a cake.

Bruno got up and wiped his hand on his shirt, walking back to the boat. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

Of course, Giorno flagrantly ignored orders (as always) and worried. “(...Did I really see that? A nail went right through his hand...does he...not feel pain? There was hardly any bleeding, either...what’s going on? ...N-No. No, I must have been imagining things…)”

The rest of the group stepped forward, closing in on Bruno.

“Buccellati, we want a thorough explanation!”

Giorno stepped forward, whispering to him. “You should explain...explain it to all of them, Buccellati. We need allies.”

Bruno looked back at Trish.


“The boss wanted to dispose of his daughter with his own two hands. That’s why he ordered us to escort her. He’s doing this because Trish is his blood relative, and can discern the boss’ identity. When I found out…” He gulped, steeling himself.

“I couldn’t allow him to get away with it. I was unable to ignore it and just walk away.”

“...That’s...why I betrayed him.”

Fugo let out a haggard breath. “...My god…”

Mista grit his teeth. “...Have you gone crazy, Buccellati...?”

Narancia just gasped and wheezed, trying to get air into his lungs that he couldn’t keep in.

Abbacchio stared him down. “...You know better than anybody else what happens to traitors. The boss won’t let ANY traitor escape. In fact...The boss’ elite guard may have surrounded Venezia already.”

Coco Jumbo, the turtle, slowly crawled around the dock, looking for a good spot to rest in the sunlight.

Bruno stared back darkly. “We need assistance . If anyone wishes to come with us...then descend these steps and board the boat.”

“However...I will not order you to come with me. Neither will I request you to do so. Since this was my own personal decision, you have no need to feel any obligation towards me. If you will allow me to say one thing, however…”

He frowned.

“I only did what I thought was right . I have no regrets. Even in this rotten world, I still want to walk down a path I can believe in . We just need to discover his weakness. Even if all we can do is run away…”

“...Someday, we will defeat the boss.”

“We will find his WEAKNESS!”

...This was all too much to take...The group had to just look away. Narancia grit his teeth and stared down at the concrete dock, Abbacchio took a seat on a nearby mooring knob.

Fugo was the first to speak.

“...Buccellati...I-I understand what you’re saying. You’re doing the right thing. But...Let me make it clear.” He inhaled through his nose before continuing.

“I’m sorry, but none of us will get on that boat. We can’t let our emotions sway us into doing something irrational. I owe you a debt, undoubtedly, but that has no bearing on this. You aren’t facing the facts. Nobody in this world can survive on ideals alone.”

“We can’t live without the gang.”

Coco Jumbo slowly trodded along past Fugo’s feet, as he stepped further up the stairs.

Abbacchio sighed. “Yeah...what Fugo said is right, Buccellati. What you’re doing right now is essentially suicide. You’ll never find a moment’s rest, no matter where you go.”

“I only swore fealty to the gang . I didn't swear fealty to you .”

Bruno closed his eyes, lowering his head slightly. He knew this was a personal choice. He would miss Abbacchio, but this was unavoidable…


He got up.

“I am also a man with no place to go, and no place to call home.”

He started to walk to the boat.

“This country and its society have rejected me.”

He stepped down the stairs.

“...Buccellati...The only time I feel inner calm…”

He stepped onto the boat, passing by Bruno as he did.

“...Is when I’m with you.”

Giorno looked at him, shocked for a second...but then smiled. “...Abbacchio…” “Oh, wipe that smirk off your face, Giorno.”

“Once we defeat the boss…”

Mista bent down and picked up the turtle.

Joining the others, he stepped down and tossed Coco Jumbo to Giorno.

“Since I’m the next strongest, that makes me the next officer, right? Here, don’t forget the turtle.”

He got in close and slung his arm around Giorno, grinning and whispering into his ear.

“(I know what kinda man Buccellati is...He’s a smart guy, regardless of what he says, and he never picks a fight with someone he can’t beat! We’re gonna get filthy, stinkin’ rich, too, since he’ll totally know where the boss’ secret stash is! You get me, right Giorno? That’s what you’re after, too, ain’t it? Heh heh...yeah, tell me all about it later, buddy!)”

Mista got onto the boat fully and sat down.

Narancia huffed and puffed, staring at the others. He was left alone.

Giorno looked at him. “Narancia...what will you do?”

All the poor boy could do was stammer, pant, and sweat.


He turned to Buccellati.

...W-What should I do…? T-Tell...Tell me...B-Buccellati...tell me what I should do…!! Do-Do you think I should follow you…?

Bruno just stared at him. “Are you scared?”

Y...Y-Y-Yeah...I’m...I’m s-scared shitless...B-But, just give me the order. Just say, just say ‘Come with me!’, a-and I won’t be scared anymore! I’m not scared of...of anything you order me to do.

“No. No orders! Not this time. You decide. You have to be the one to decide the path you’ll take.”

Narancia clutched his head.

I...I-I don’t know! I-I-I don’t fucking know…!!”

“...But I will warn you.” Bruno started to turn.

Stay back , Narancia. You can’t handle this.”

He bent down a little, groaning. “A-Arrrghhh…”

Bruno turned around fully, raising his hand with his index finger pointed skywards.


He fired up the engine, and it sputtered to life, leaving foamy seawater on the deck as it traveled away. Away from the San Giorgio Maggiore bell tower.

Narancia was left. Alone.

He had had his eyes shut with fear...but when he had heard the boat move a significant amount of feet away, he opened them.

And he saw Trish’s wound. The wound on her wrist…

And as the blood from her wound dripped softly into the sea, as did the tears drop from Narancia’s eyes.

“...Trish...was abandoned by someone she trusted…”

He gulped.

“Long ago...I was abandoned, too. By my dad...and my best friend...they both abandoned me…”

“Me...and Trish…”

“...We’re the same …”


“... alike …”

The group on the boat was quickly on their way back to the Venice mainland.

Bruno gestured to Coco Jumbo. “Giorno, could you get the turtle? We should put Trish inside…”

Giorno was picked up the turtle and was about to move it over to Trish before he noticed something.

Something swimming, off in the distance.

“Buccellati...could you turn around?”

Bruno did as instructed.

...Swimming surprisingly quickly towards the boat was Narancia, screaming.



The group just smiled as Bruno reeled the motor back, the boat sputtering to a stop as they let Narancia on, letting him catch his breath.

Giorno handed Coco Jumbo back to Buccellati, but while he was doing so...he accidentally grabbed Bruno’s hand, by mistake.


He kept his thumb on Bruno’s wrist, staring down at it.

“(...That’s impossible...What is this? Buccellati’s body should be healed of all wounds at this point. I’ve even replenished his blood, too...but, something’s strange…”

“(...He’s got no pulse.)”

“(What could this mean? he dead…?)”

Bruno took the turtle, looking back at the bell tower’s island.

“...Hm? Where did Fugo go? I thought he was standing there with the rest of you…”

Mista looked up and over at the same area. “Oh, hey, yeah, you’re right. I didn't even notice? Hey Narancia, you were last to come, did you notice anything weird?”

Narancia panted a bit more before looking up. “...Whuh?” “D’you know where Fugo went?” “...Oh, uh...I dunno. He probably just went back in the bell tower or something. He has to wait for another boat to come, after all...I didn't see any other boats docked he could have taken.” Mista just snickered.

“Poor sap. He’s gonna miss out, for sure.”

Moving back a little, let’s go back to when Coco Jumbo was trudging along past Fugo’s feet.

Fugo opened his mouth to speak, to cry out against seeing even Abbacchio go against reasoning and logic to follow his foolish heart.

Unfortunately, at that moment, he felt someone pull on his foot, and the next thing he knew, he was face-down in [ Mr. President ] ’s private room.

He peeled his face off the floor and looked around. “What…”

He got up. “W-What the fuck just happened?! Why’d I suddenly get pulled inside the turtle?! There’s no one that should be in here! Unless…” He looked around a bit more, breath hitching in his throat.

“...A-Am I being attacked by...the boss…?”

He put his hand on his chest.

No...No, that’d be stupid. The boss wouldn’t risk showing his identity to anyone! It just wouldn’t make sense!

...But, then again, being that he’s alone, he could be killed, and in the process, the boss would erase any trace of the only person who saw his true appearance…

He needs to fight back. The group’s compromised by their emotions, they won’t be any help at all...especially since two of them just came back from fighting with the boss, themselves.

He needs to do this alone.

He defend himself.

“... [ Purple Ha--

Promptly, Fugo was knocked unconscious by a strong punch to the back of the head and neck.

The sound of a diver letting out air filled the room as Fugo silently dropped to the ground, his stand never having appeared.

... Diver Down had caused him to pass out due to the force of the hit.

Anasui was still underneath the couch, but he’s recovered a little since then. He tore out some of the fabric from underneath the couch and used Diver Down to plug up his wounds inside his body.

He had heard what was going on...That guy with the gun and some other guy already agreed to go. It was certainly interesting, what he heard...but he honestly didn't care that much. The dumb, short guy was obviously having some trouble, but Anasui got the feeling he was easily influenced just from the quick interaction he had with him. That boy would most likely go anyways.

But this one...he’s smart. He’s logical, sharp-witted, he knows what he’s doing. He wasn’t going to go risking his life like the others.

He knew he had to ‘convince’ him somehow. He knows this group needs all the help they need...and just him isn’t gonna cut it.

Of course, now he has a body he needs to dispose of somewhere until he wakes up…

Good thing Anasui also grabbed some mooring rope while everyone was away and in the bell tower.

Chapter Text

Emporio and Jolyne had reunited.

At last. At long, long last.

Yet...still, something felt wrong.

Jolyne was supposed to be dead...why was she here?

After the group of doppelgangers had picked up the Weather Report look-alike, Jolyne and Emporio had stopped to talk at a nearby bus stop.

Of course, there were a slew of questions.

Jolyne asked Emporio what happened, and he explained it. Following that was a large celebration from Jolyne and a promise that she’d take Emporio to the next Wendy’s she sees, her treat.

Emporio asked Jolyne what happened, and she said she didn't know.

“The last thing I remember is...having both my arms cut off in the sea by Pucci. Then it was black...and I woke up naked, slumped over next to an apartment complex. Obviously, I can’t go around naked, so I dug around in the trash and picked up this parka. I dunno what the red on it is, though...probably blood. I also picked up some blue jeans, too.” Jolyne kicked out one of her legs. “Neato, huh?”

“I-I guess so...but, Jolyne, if you came back...then, do you think…?”

She just sighed and looked down the road. “Who knows, Emporio. I was lucky enough to be dropped off here, but I don’t know if the others were so lucky.”

He frowned, staring down at his shoes.

“...Yeah, I know. It’s harsh, but...this is reality. Not some cheesy story where everyone lives happily ever after. We’ve gotta move on, even without the people we loved.” She sighed, but then looked back to Emporio, smiling. “But hey.” She put a hand on his head, ruffling his hair a little. “At least I’ve got you, right?”

That made him smile a little. least he’s got her.

“Your friends are alive.”

Jolyne perked up and looked around. “W-What? Who the hell said that?!”

She looked down.

There was a man crawling out from underneath the bench. She yelped and pulled her legs up. “W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Emporio scooted back a little, unnerved but not exactly scared.

The man crawled out from under the bench, getting up and brushing himself off.

He was a tall, charismatic young man with fair skin and a handsome face. His blonde hair fell to the sides of his face and curled up at the bottoms. He wore a long, stylish pink coat with pink pants and pink leather shoes. He must be a fan of pink.


He thrust out his hand, and next to him, appearing with a triumphant trumpet flare, appeared his stand.

A tall, almost feminine-looking stand with tall, rabbit-like ears that was chiefly white, patterned in various pink designs. It had a hand on its hip, and the other in the air, cocked forward.

“ Funny Valentine. The 23rd president of the United States of America.”

Jolyne and Emporio looked at him, then blinked at each other for a few seconds before she got up and protectively slid in front of Emporio, clenching her fists.

“...No, you sure as hell ain’t! The 23rd president was Benjamin Harrison, you psycho! Now get outta here, before I kick your ass!”

Beside her manifested [ Stone Free ], with a soft vibrating noise similar to that of a plucked guitar string. A humanoid affair, blue with various bumps and ridges all over it, topped off with a neato pair of green sunglasses.

Funny Valentine looked at her. “In your world, maybe. In my world, I am the president. [ Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap ] allows me to travel between parallel dimensions...between worlds. I came here because...well, I’m not really sure why. It was an intrinsic feeling that I had in my gut. There are other versions of me out there, you see...versions who would rather destroy everything than live with the reality of their country being tarnished even slightly.”

Jolyne stared at him coldly for a little bit before relaxing, recalling Stone Free . “...Fine. But what does this have to do with us , you weirdo?”

“I am here to tell you that your friends have been scattered across dimensions. Across ‘timelines’, as it were. I can feel it...this was the work of a rogue Valentine. Your friends are alive, but...they are sprinkled through various histories like a child throwing pepper around.”

Emporio felt tears well up in his eyes.

“Y...Y-You’re telling me that the others are…?”

Jolyne put her hands on her hips, trying to act tough even though his words clearly affected her.

“...How do we know you’re telling the truth, huh? How do we know you’re aware that our friends are alive?”

“You can’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

He looked off down the road, then up to the sky. “I can’t stay here very long. I have other things I need to be doing. But, in order for you to recover your friends and for you to reunite with them…”

He turned around, starting to walk away.

“...You’ll need allies.”

Jolyne stepped forward, thrusting out her hand. “Wh--H-Hey! What the hell do you mean ‘allies’?! All our friends are off scattered around the space-time continuum!”

Valentine stopped for a second, not turning around.


They couldn’t see it, but he smirked.

“I’m sure you can find some people who are willing. And if you can’ may have to come to your enemies for help.”

With a single, graceful movement, Valentine dug into his pocket and tossed out a giant American flag, it flapping out spectacularly into the air. He dove down under it and grabbed the underside as he did, pulling it on top of him.

The flag fell flat onto the ground as he disappeared between the cracks of the world.

...Jolyne walked over and picked it up. Nothing.

“What a weirdo…”

Emporio got up and walked over to her, tugging on her parka hem.

“Jolyne...this could be our chance! If we gather enough allies, maybe something will happen…? Maybe that Valentine guy will come back and help us!”

She looked back down at him. “ aren’t really suggesting we trust this guy, right?”

“What other choice do we have, big sister Jolyne…?”

She looked down at him and shook her head, looking off back in the direction of Green Dolphin Street Prison.

“...You’re right, Emporio. And being that we don’t have any other choice…”

She pointed off to Green Dolphin Street.

“...We’ll have to go to our enemies.”

Taking the bus to Green Dolphin Street, Jolyne and Emporio formulated a plan on how to talk to the people she called her enemies.

The two of them came off the bus, walking into the courtyard before the entrance.

Jolyne craned her neck. Two guards, heavily suited in blue uniforms and riot gear, stood outside the front entrance.

She looked back to Emporio. “You ready, Emporio?” “R-Ready.”

Stone Free!”

Jolyne unraveled herself into a large clump of string, tucking herself in underneath Emporio’s hat, leaving only her finger intact as the cornerstone she’ll use to reform herself.

After she had finished, Emporio adjusted his hat and pulled it down a little, making sure no one would know what was under it.

Emporio took a deep breath and sprinted towards the prison at full speed, taking occasional breaks by hiding inside a bush or two. He went on this way, until he was naught but a few feet away.

Gathering his energy, Emporio finally bounded out and scrambled out of the shrub he was hiding in and ran towards a crack in the wall.

The guard closest to him noticed, and snapped towards what he had seen move in his peripherals, drawing his gun. “OFFICER MUMFOOOORD!! THERE’S SOMEONE HERE! A KID! THERE’S A FUCKIN’ KID HANGING AROUND HERE!!”

Officer Mumford, the other guard, turned around and pointed his gun at the same area. “W-What?! Where?!”

...There was nothing. Emporio had already slipped into the prison walls using [ Burning Down The House ].

Mumford lowered his gun, looking at the empty space. He looked over to the other officer. “...Sons, are you sure? Maybe you were just seein’ is pretty hot, after all.”

Sons sighed, lowering his gun as well. “...Yeah, I guess so...You willin’ to lend me a 20 for a coke?” “Hell no, get your own money, ya cheapskate!!”

They came out into the ghost music room of the prison that Emporio had killed Pucci in.

...Actually, Pucci’s body was still there.

Brutally disfigured and maimed beyond belief.

Jolyne reformed herself after Emporio took her out of his hat, walking over to his body.


She gave him one more good punch in the gut just for the road.

Emporio looked around. It’s so empty...he misses Weather and Anasui…

Jolyne turned back around, leaning on the destroyed piano.

“So...if memory serves, a lot of our enemies were made by [ Whitesnake ]’s ability to make stand discs, right? Then...I wonder, will they still have stands, if Pucci was killed?”

Emporio looked back over to her. “...They should, right? Pucci lost Whitesnake after he transformed using the green baby, and we still had to fight people.”

Jolyne walked over to the shelf with the Mars Bar and orange juice that always reappear and gulped the juice down. Obviously, being a ghost drink, it just went through her, but it at least tasted good.

“Ahhh...Then, we’ll need to think about what enemies are dead and what enemies we can convince to help. Emporio, you’ve been watching diligently, right? You can help me out with this. Think back...who have we fought?”

Emporio tapped his chin. “...Uhhh, well, first was Johngalli A. But, Pucci shot and killed him, so that’s a cross-off.”

Jolyne nodded, crossing her arms. “Then there was Gwess...Ugh, I hate that bitch. But there isn’t anyone else we can really go to...she’s gonna be first. Who else?”

“Big Sister Ermes took out Thunder McQueen’s stand disc, so he won’t be of any help…”

Jolyne looked over to him. “Miraschon?” “...Who?” “You know, Miraschon. [ Marilyn Manson ]’s user. She’s also a bitch, but I’m sure she’ll buckle if I intimidate her a little. So, that makes two. Hmmm…”

Jolyne snapped her fingers. “Oh, Lang Rangler! I remember him, too...But, I beat him half to death, and plus, he was disfigured pretty badly by decompression sickness...I dunno if he’ll be in any condition to help, yet. But he’s also worth a shot.”

Emporio sighed. “Jolyne, what do you think will happen if we can’t convince any of these people…?” “We’ll worry about that when the time comes, Emporio, don’t worry! Let’s focus on thinking about who we might be able to recruit.”

He nodded. “You’re right...I remember watching you guys fight Sports Maxx, too.” Jolyne snickered. “Oh man, Sports Max...even if he was still alive, I wouldn’t ask him. Let’s see...then I went to the maximum security ward.”

“Yes, I know...I couldn’t tell what you guys were doing, since it was a separate building.”

“I set that guard, Viviano Westwood, on fire and hit him with a meteor, so he’s probably dead...That Kenzo guy got utterly crippled by Anasui and fell in a garbage can, so he’s not gonna be of any use. The user of [ Survivor ] probably got beat to death, and F.F. finished off D an G. Damn, who else? We’re running out of options…”

Emporio adjusted his hat a little, frowning. “What about Miuccia Miuller? You took her hostage to escape, but you let her go. She may not like you, but...she could help us out, too.”

“Oh yeaahhh...I almost forgot! My whole memory of that fight is kinda shitty...but yeah, good point. Then...I forget, what was next?”

“I’m not exactly sure myself...I don’t think we were there for it, but I think that, afterwards, a big event made all the fictional characters real. We wouldn’t know the user…”

Jolyne rubbed her chin, thinking. “Then, maybe we’ll pass on that one. But...Oh, crap, hey! I just remembered! After that shit, we fought Rykiel! The dude with the cow-print jumpsuit!”

“Oh, yeah...D-Do we really have to talk to him?” “I think he might actually be the most receptive, next to Gwess...He gave us info after we beat him up, and he’s kind of a wimp, so I can probably knock him over to our side. I just hope he’s not dead or something...Ermes hit him pretty hard.” Emporio nodded.

“Then, after that was...I think, Versace? That guy? I remember Anasui punching him and him turning up, that’s a bust. Pretty sure that’s everyone.” Jolyne sighed and put her hands on her hips. “So, that’s Gwess, Miraschon, Lang Rangler, Miuccia Miuller, that fictional-character stand guy...and Rykiel. God, what a group of misfits…”

Emporio looked at the Liechtenstein painting on the wall. “Yeah, but...haven’t we always been a group of misfits? It’s worth a shot.”

Jolyne nodded. “You’re right, Emporio. So then…I need to ask you to do something!”

“My cell number’s 11-91946-F! Go there, grab Gwess, and bring her back in here, please!”

Emporio nodded at her. “Yeah, big sister! I’ll do my best!” And he turned around to the crack in the wall, and was about to leave, when…

“...Hey, Emporio.”

He turned around. “Huh?”

Jolyne looked at him and...smiled. She smiled with an almost motherly love.

“Stay safe, alright?”

Emporio smiled back confidently for the first time in a long time, and traveled into the crack.

Chapter Text

The two giant figures approached the group menacingly, Jotaro and Zeppeli squaring up to fight them as Speedwagon tended to Jonathan’s frozen leg.

The first one of the two was big and burly, a veritable mountain of a man dressed in tough, brown leather armor with rounded iron horns atop his helmet. The long scar across his left eye only served to make his already chiseled face more intimidating.

His companion could be considered slimmer and more graceful than he. Long, black hair dangled handsomely from his face, a scar across the bridge of his nose perfectly complementing his solemn face.

They were Tarkus and Bruford: two of the most fearsome knights of the Victorian era, cut down for their loyalty to Mary, Queen Of Scots.

Of course, nobody here knew this.

“W-Who are these people?!” Zeppeli grit his teeth, getting into a fighting stance.

Jotaro just sighed, adjusting his hat. “Doesn’t matter. It sure doesn’t look like they’re here to make friends.”

Zeppeli looked back to Jonathan and Speedwagon. “Jojo! Speedwagon! Are you--?!”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Zeppeli!” Speedwagon was bravely pressing Jojo’s leg up against his now-revealed abs, the heat from his body warming up his frozen leg.

“I’ve traveled the world as well! The eskimos, living near the poles, heal frostbite by surrounding the afflicted area with warm seal flesh!”

Jonathan looked at him, astounded at his worldliness. “S-Speedwagon…”

The two figures bounded towards the two of them, but as they approached, their target became clear.


“Mr. Jotaro! They’re both heading for Jojo! We need to act fast!” “Don’t have to tell me twice. You get the big one; I’ll get the hairy one.” “Of course!”

The two of them sprinted forward towards the warriors, Jotaro running straight for Bruford.

“...Hm? You come straight at me, unarmed and without any fighting skills? Truly a foolish maneuver...Come! Approach me, and I will suck the blood from your body until you are nothing but bones!”

As Jotaro approached him, Bruford’s hair snaked and weaved like a bushel full of worms, slithering their way from his head out to Jotaro.

He just kept running straight at Bruford.

The hair follicles stuck themselves deep into Jotaro’s arm, starting to suck his blood through them. “Fool! You’ve ignored my warnings! Now DIE, AS A FOOL LIKE YOU SHOULD!”

...Surprisingly, Jotaro didn't even bother to try and take them out.

He just kept running straight at Bruford, bringing out Star Platinum.

“ORAAAA!!” Seeing as how Bruford was a knight back in the 1500s, and wouldn’t have had a stand in the first place, there was no way for him to counter it.

As such, Bruford’s skull was partially caved in from the sheer force of the punch.

Yet...he still stood. He stood even as rotted blood trickled out of his face.

“...Kuh...Scoundrel...Do you not know who I am?” The rest of his hair follicles attacked Jotaro, wrapping themselves around his throat. Jotaro coughed, gritting his teeth as his airways were blocked. “Gghgh…(S-Shit! This isn’t good...his hair looks like it’s prehensile. It doesn’t feel like he has a stand, though...What the hell am I going to do…?)”

Bruford smirked.. “Hmph! Even if I’m not exactly sure how you hit me...that doesn’t matter! You don’t look English, let me elucidate you about the name of the Black Knight, Sir Bruford, with a DEMONSTRATION!” The hairs tightened, reddening the skin around Jotaro’s neck. “H-Hurrghh--!! (M-Motherfucker…!!)”

From behind Bruford, his companion lumbered. “Heh...Heh heh...yeah, you’ll know both our names before death...the Black Knight Sir Bruford, and the Dark Knight Sir Tarkus!” Tarkus widened his grin, showing off his mangled teeth as he unsheathed an ungodly massive sword.

Speedwagon, from the back, marveled at the size of it.

“U...Unbelievable! It’s so frightening, it almost makes me forget about the pain of Mr. Joestar’s leg against my body! Such zombies...a huge sword that makes Mr. Joestar’s 195 centimeter body look small! And Bruford’s looks like it can move on its own!”

“And their faces...they’re different from the grunt zombies we fought back in the tunnel here! They appear to be hiding a greater purpose...I feel something deeply pressuring, even more than when Jack the Ripper approached us!”

Tarkus raised his sword, showing off his fangs. “We swore loyalty to Lord Dio! He brought us back from the dead to enact our revenge on the people of this world!”

He opened his mouth wide in a manic smile, bringing down his massive sword.


“Not so fast!”

A delicate hand had come out and blocked it.

Zeppeli had intercepted just in time, using hamon to block Tarkus’ attack.

“W-What?!” “A may be large, but in the end, it’s made of metal! And metal conducts hamon almost INSTANTLY!”

The orange sparks characteristic of hamon flickered and flashed all around his sword, running all the way up to Tarkus’ body.

Unfortunately, Tarkus noticed this, and dropped the sword before it could reach his hands. “Gah! That was a close one! I would say you almost got me, you bastard, but you could never beat Tarkus in a test of reflex!”

Jotaro was still being strangled, his face turning blue.

Poco was hiding behind a nearby rock, watching the whole affair.

Tarkus bent down and picked up the sword, licking his lips at Zeppeli. “I’ve made my living butchering and slaughtering! Small fry like you will be NOTHING!”

Zeppeli sniffed. “Oh? Then come at me!”

Bruford smiled. “I have to say, young man, you looked like you were going to put up a good fight! I can only feel pity that you didn't at least live up to that.”

Jotaro choked out a “D...D-Damn it...C-Can’t...concentrate…(Is my age catching up to me? I should be able to beat this guy no problem...I oughta start training again, like I did back in the 90s…)”

Just when all seemed lost…

The connection between Bruford’s hair and Jotaro’s neck was severed, the follicles falling loose around his neck as he gasped for air.

Jonathan had severed them using a swift hamon-infused chop!

Speedwagon pumped his fist from the sidelines, grinning. “HELL YEAH! MR. JOESTAR’S BACK IN THE GAME!”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Jotaro. I’ll take care of Dark Knight Bruford.” Jotaro held his throat and coughed a little before looking at him. “...Be my guest. But, only if you let me get a few more hits in on the bastard as well.”

Bruford retracted his hair, gritting his teeth at them before looking up into the night sky.

“Lord Dio...thank you for blessing me with life! Thank you for the chance to fight these two opponents and prove my worth!”

The two of them lunged towards Bruford, Jotaro tossing himself to the side in order to flank Bruford with Jonathan. Yelling out, he launched a punching “ORAORAORAORAORAORA ORA!!!” barrage to Bruford’s back. His hair wouldn’t be able to stop it: stands like Star Platinum can’t be physically touched.

Bruford’s back was mulched, skin and muscle flaking away with each punch. Bruford himself, however, was unfazed, a stoic look on his face. “A good effort, for sure...but it won’t be enough!”

His hair didn't go for Jotaro or Jonathan; instead, it went to the hilt on his waist, and pulled out a shining, shimmering silver sword, labeled ‘LUCK’.

“This sword was given to me by Mary Stuart herself! shall be your demise!”

He swung it in an arc behind him, slicing right across Jotaro’s chest and causing him to spurt blood. “GGghh--!!”

He fell tumbling to the ground, holding his chest and heaving. “Hhhh...haahhh...damn, he’s a serious fighter…” He looked back behind him. Zeppeli and Tarkus weren’t really fighting...he was moreso distracting him, so that Tarkus wouldn’t go after Speedwagon or Poco or anyone else. He almost looks as if he feels he isn’t strong enough to take on such a warrior.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Jotaro!” Jonathan took a deep, hamon-charging breath. Bruford took notice, and snapped his head back. “Now to take care of you! ” The hair swung furiously back to Jonathan.

Speedwagon screamed out from the sidelines. “M-Mr. Joestar’s not going to be able to block as sharp a blade as that! His arms will be chopped in half!”

Fortunately, Jojo had a plan. He kept up his hamon breathing, raising his fist.

“I heard what Master Zeppeli said earlier! He said hamon conducts through metal almost instantly! He couldn’t get to Tarkus because of the sheer size of the sword…”

He swung around and threw an uppercut to the flat side of the sword, running hamon all through it. “...But your sword is smaller, and the perfect size!!”



The hamon ran through the sword, even faster than when Zeppeli had done it with Tarkus’ sword.

Appropriately, the hamon burnt up a good couple feet of hair, leaving Bruford with only a mullet to his name as the sword harmlessly clanked to the ground.

Bruford grimaced. “Gaauuhgghh!! Y-Youuuu!!”

Jonathan took another deep breath, bringing in as much hamon energy as he could.






Through a strong barrage of hamon-infused punches, imbued with the power of the sun, Bruford was sent hurtling through the air.

Speedwagon clenched his fist. “OOOHH!! That sound! The familiar sound of hamon, like a bullet hitting a red-hot iron door!”

Bruford hit an opposing rock wall, sliding down it to the ground.

...And yet, he got up. He looked worse for wear, of course: he was a vampire hit with a barrage of hamon. His face cracked and peeled as he grit his teeth angrily, straining out his words.

“! The Black Knight! This mere pain will not stop me!”

Speedwagon pointed an accusatory finger.

“PATHETIC BRUFORD! Even reduced so low, your killing instinct as a zombie forces you to attack again!”

Bruford raised his sword, picking it up off the ground and going to swing it fearsomely at Jonathan.

Jonathan...did nothing. He lowered his fists and watched Bruford.


Bruford swung…

...and stopped at Jonathan’s cheek. It only made a small cut, dripping blood onto the blade.

“...W-What is this?! What are the two of them doing?!”

Jonathan closed his eyes, then opened them again, looking at Bruford.

“Just now, you said ‘this mere pain’. ‘Pain’ feel ‘pain’?”

...Bruford dropped to the ground. Flowers and greenery bloomed from the once-dead grass around his feet.

He was...smiling.

Speedwagon grit his teeth, his eyes softening. “Dark Knight Bruford’s body started crumbling when it was hit with hamon, but at the same time, he regained the ability to feel pain! He can feel pain like a normal human! The ripple is destroying his undead body...but it rejuvenated his human soul!”

Jonathan knelt down to his level. “That’s why I stopped fighting you...why you stopped your sword.”

Bruford had a gentle expression on his face. Like that of a son talking to his kind mother.

“ were that sure that I would stop my attack? You can really trust someone that much…?”

His leg crumbled. “G-Guaaahh!! This...t-this proof of ‘life’. If you can feel ‘pain’, you can feel ‘joy’. That’s what it means to be human…”

He looked up to the stars.

“I feel...strangely at peace. I no longer resent the world...At this, my last few moments of life, I feel as if I could embrace this man. My queen...Mary, Queen of Scots...I’m ready to meet her.”

Bruford’s sword was stuck into the ground.

“...Friend from 300 years later. Tell me your name.”

“Jonathan. Jonathan Joestar.”

“Jonathan...I offer you the word engraved on my sword! LUCK!”

He raised his trembling arm to the sword’s blade and slit his finger, moving it to the handle.

“And take this with you, in your future!”

He slowly wrote the letter ‘P’ next to where ‘LUCK’ was engraved.


He smiled at Jonathan, the serene look on his face never once faltering as he dissipated into the air.


The brave black knight of Mary, Sir Bruford, was now nothing more but dust in the wind.

Chapter Text

Before we get to Ermes and her brain problems...I mean, external brain problems, we’ll rewind a little bit.

Joseph has just defeated the unnatural, disturbing Esidisi. He was a disgusting, monstrous creature that cried to let off steam, had boiling blood, and could send his veins out to attack.

Through a frankly unbelievable series of rope tricks, misleading accusations, and a fair amount of line-predicting, however, Joseph had been able to fight him off, and drink the antidote to cure the ring he had placed around his windpipe.

Joseph was now happily humming along to a folksy song he remembers Granny Erina teaching to him, walking from the spike pit to the main island.

Unaware to him, however, Esidisi’s brain (which had escaped from his body before it disintegrated) was hitching a ride on his back.

Joseph put a hand on his shoulder and cracked it, grinning.

“My back is killin’ me! I guess it’s ‘cause I used my head too much in the fight with Esidisi…”

Above the room Ermes was sleeping rather peacefully in, Lisa Lisa was standing out on the balcony, watching the sun rise. She rubbed the Red Stone of Aja as she looked out into the horizon.

“It’s dawn...Caesar and Jojo should be making their way back any time now.”

Suzi Q poked her head in, holding two folded-up blouses: One red, and one white.

“Master Lisa Lisa...Which blouse would you like to wear? There’s nothing wrong with white, but you should go with something snazzier on occasion!”

Lisa Lisa set down the red stone on a nearby table. “I’ll let you pick for me.”

The glass on the table was broken...she wonders why. Just earlier, she was using it to show that Costello woman the wonders of hamon…

Suzi Q sighed. “Okay...I suppose I’ll go with white…b-but, look at this design! I can’t just put it back!”

Lisa Lisa wasn’t really listening.

“...(Did Jojo and Caesar’s final test go alright? For some reason...I feel uneasy. I have an ominous feeling that something has…)”

She cleared her throat, looking back at Suzi Q. “Suzi Q...have Caesar and Jojo come to my room once they’ve returned.” “Oh! Understood!”

Suzi Q looked over the blouses again. “...Actually...I think a nice, refreshing white might be best after all...but, I personally prefer the flashy designs, like this one...oh, which one is best…?! What’s a girl to do?! ...Mmmm...White! No, wait, maybe…”

Lisa Lisa watched her fumble about with her decisions before sighing. “...I suppose I’ll go with the snazzy one, Suzi Q.” “O-Oh, really?! I suppose this one works best for today, then!”

She set down the flashy red blouse, turning around. “I’ll leave you to your daily bath then, master Lisa Lisa~!”

Suzi Q walked out of the room, carrying the white blouse and leaving the Red Stone of Aja in its place on the table.

Joseph was on his way up the stairs, cracking his neck. “Kaahhh...damn, this pain on my back just ain’t going away! Maybe I oughta see a chiropractor or something. Hope I’m not getting old like Granny Erina and threw out my back or somethin’…”

He was passing by a door when...he heard mumbling.

“Hmmm?” He put a hand to his ear. “What was that I heard? Sounded like someone talking in their sleep…”

He stepped back a few steps and pressed his ear up against the door.

Definitely sounds like talking...and it’s definitely that tough girl. Elvis whats-her-face.

“...Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I stepped in for a little bit…”

Joseph took hold of the doorknob and opened it up, stepping in.

Ermes was tangled up in the bedsheets, sweating and mumbling, trapped in some terrible dream.

“...Ggrrghhh...P-Pucci...Sports Maxx...urrghh...g-get that fuckin’ fish away from me…”

“(Hm? What’s this chick even talking about? Maybe she is delusional and Lisa Lisa just made a bad call…)”

He walked over to the bed and bent down a little, staring at her.

Her arm moved a little, pulling on the edge of her green denim vest-thing. Seems she’s kinda hot in that turtleneck she’s wearing…

...Heh, well, I guess she wouldn’t mind if he copped a little feel...I mean, she’s sleeping, so it’s alright, right? She’ll never even know…

Joseph put out his hand and moved towards her chest before…

...He heard singing from the hallway.

“Oh! That must be that maid girl, Suzi Q! Haven’t talked with her in a while...might as well greet her! Who knows, maybe she’ll give me a kiss for my bravery, heheh~”

He hurried on out of the room, closing the door behind him.

[ Wake up...little woman…WAKE UP, ALREADY! ]

...Ermes muttered and mumbled, slowly opening her eyes. “...Hhurrghh...the fuck was that…?”

She felt some...slithering, on her back. Must’ve been the bedsheets...She sat up, cracking her neck and yawning. “ back, too...Actually, jeez, my back a lot, what’s up with it…?”

[ I’ll tell you what’s going on...You’re going to be ME! THE MIGHTY ESIDISI! ]

Ermes had barely a clue of what was going on, but she was alarmed anyways. “W-What?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?! Who’s Esidisi?!” She whipped her head around. “And who the hell is Esidisi?!”

[ No more questions...All I need you to do for let me control you! Just like… ]

Ermes felt her mind immediately be overwritten with that of Esidisi.

That is...Esidisi overwrote this sap of a woman’s mind.

He straightened his back, slithering up out of the bed and striking a pose. “This!’s been a while since I’ve performed this technique...but, to the task at hand! The Red Stone of Aja...That Lisa Lisa woman has it with her most if not at all times! That’s what I have to obtain!”

He put his hands on his hips, sighing. “But how to do it…? Ah!” He snapped his fingers. “The perfect plan...hahaha...I’ll use this young woman as my catalyst!”

Ermes walked out of the bedroom, groggy and tired. “Uurrghhh…” She put a hand to her head and looked around as she staggered out of the bedroom. Joseph and Suzi Q were talking.

“That’s right! Master Lisa Lisa asked for you to come to her room after you returned. She’s in the bath right now, though, so give her 30 minutes or so.”

“Gotcha I was gonna head that way anyways! They learned around the Red Stone!”

As they meaninglessly blathered on about romance and the Red Stone or whatever, Ermes staggered on past them. The two of them didn't even notice, roped into their conversation as she listlessly trudged on towards the balcony that Lisa Lisa was taking a bath on.

She managed to get to the door, opening it up.

Lisa Lisa didn't turn around, figuring it was just Suzi Q coming in for a status update.

“Suzi Q…? Have Jojo and Caesar returned yet?”

Ermes suddenly became aware of what she was doing. “Urk--!! Shit, sorry! D-Didn't know you were taking a bath...I-I was lookin’ for the bathroom, was all!” Lisa Lisa sighed, shaking her head and glancing back. “It’s understandable. I really should put up some signs...just hurry out and lock the door behind you.”

“Y-You got it!”

Ermes quickly turned back around and slammed the door.

...That is, Esidisi did. Raising his hand, in it was the Red Stone of Aja. “That’s it…! Lucky thing I was able to snatch this thing while she was distracted! Now…” He turned around, ready to head down to the docks and send this stone off to Switzerland, when…

“Yo! Elvis whats-her-face!” “GYAGH!!” That was Joseph...shit! Where is he going to hide this thing?!

...He has an idea.

He pulled the collar of the turtleneck out, tucking the red stone into the sweater where it’d be safely hidden among her chest.

Hmph...he wouldn’t dare look in there. He relinquished control to Ermes, who blinked her eyes and turned around, rubbing her head. “...Er, what was I…?” ...Oh. It’s that guy. Sigh.

“...Uh, hey man. How’s it goin’?” “I could say the same for you! Earlier, I saw you sneaking out of your room while me and Suzi Q were talking! What’re you doing on over here near Lisa Lisa’s room?”

Esidisi pulled a few mental strings, tucked safely into Ermes’ body and clothes, to make her say a few things for him...He’s sure she wouldn’t mind such a small favor.

“Oh, I was just heading out to the shores to clear my mind, is all. No big deal.”

Joseph rubbed his chin, humming. “Hm. Guess that makes sense…”

He looked Ermes over…

“...Hey, has your chest gotten bigger or something?”

Ermes delivered a strong uppercut to his stomach before turning around and walking away without a word.

Esidisi snickered in his thoughts. Now, off to the docks…

Joseph watched her go, holding his stomach and coughing. “(koff koff) Damn…! It was just a question…” Sigh. “...Guess I’ll just wait out here for Lisa Lisa to come out, then...30 minutes, right? I suppose that right here next to…”

He lowered himself to the knob.

“...This keyhole is as good a place as any! And while I’m waiting, would it really be a crime to keep an eye through this keyhole…?”

Joseph peeked in through the keyhole, hooting to himself as he got an eyeful of a naked Lisa Lisa.

“Niiiiiice!!” He pumped his fists before returning to his ‘watchful gaze’ through the keyhole.

A short time passed, Joseph diligently watching through the keyhole, before Ermes returned.

He glanced over to her, standing back up. “Hey, Elmo! How’d the walk go? You clear that thick skull of yours up?”

Ermes hung her head down, dreadlocks masking her face as she trudged forward towards him.

“...Hey, what’s up? Weather got you down or somethin’? You sure seemed pretty lively earlier, punchin’ me and all...speaking of which, I gotta pay you back for that, you bastard!” He clenched his fists, pointing at her. “Would you rather I kiss you until you scream? Or, how about tickling you until you piss your pants?”

Ermes stopped in front of him, silent. “...”

“...Hey, c’mon, it’s no fun if you’re just acting like a brick wall. Say something, already!”

...She started laughing.

“...Heheheh...Hehahahahah…” As she laughed, her voice became more masculine, more gravelly and rough.


She flipped her head up, dreadlocks flowing back as she stared at him. The usual tough look in her eyes was instead replaced with one of insane malice, a twisted grin on her face as the veins in her flesh protruded and her flesh bubbled and pulsed with Esidisi’s burning blood, unsuited for a normal human’s body.

Joseph stepped back, frowning. “S-Shit! Esidisi?! You’re still alive?!”




Chapter Text

The group of Jotaro, Joseph, Avdol, Iggy and Polnareff had finally disembarked from the Nile near the Kom Ombo temple, constructed during the Ptolemaic dynasty from 187-47 BC.

Being that it’s a popular spot for tourists to take pictures and get souvenirs, the city of Kom Ombo was swarming with swindlers and shady merchants.

They had come on as a group, but without even realizing it, Polnareff found himself alone.

He looked around, trying to figure out where he had wandered off to, as a short man in a turban and twirled mustache approached him, holding a piece of paper decorated in various sigils and designs.

“Hello, my friend! Want to buy some papyrus? It was the first paper, you know! This was drawn by a famous Egyptian artist, it’s a very good investment!”

Polnareff hadn’t even noticed him. “That’s strange, where is everyone…? They were just here…”

“Come on! Take a look, I promise you, it’s real papyrus! I’ll even give you a discount!” He finally snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the small man, frowning. “God, you’re boring...but, papyrus…?” He took the paper.

“I’ll give it to you for a good price~!” “...You sure this is for real?” “Of course!”

Polnareff promptly and easily ripped it in half.


He tossed it over his shoulder, turning away and sighing. “It’s a fake...real papyrus wouldn’t rip that easily. You can’t fool me. I wouldn’t have bought it even if it’s real, but…” Sigh. “Where is Jotaro? That Fighters fille also said she would tail the boat…”

Polnareff was making his way up a small incline towards the temple to get a better view of the crowd, when he heard footsteps behind him.

Glancing behind him, he opened his eyes wide. “Urk--!!”

...Then he smiled, waving. “Oh! Madame Fighters! I was just looking for you! Do you know where Jotaro and the others are? I ended up getting lost in this marketplace...were you hassled by the merchants, too?”

Foo Fighters was staring straight at him with a dead serious look on her face, carrying a sheathed sword at her side.


“...Eh? What’s wrong? You’re usually talkative…” He put his hands on his hips as he walked, but sighed. “Oh, never mind. Come on, follow me, maybe we’ll be able to find the others if we get a bird’s-eye view.”


They walked awkwardly and silently up the hill, arriving in the temple.

Polnareff turned around and looked at F.F., confused. “...What’s up with you, mademoiselle? Those eyes have the stench of death in them, and…” He pointed at the sword. “I’ve just noticed that sword you’re carries the unmistakable stench of evil! Where’d you find it?”

Foo Fighters stared at him, taking the scabbard into her hands.

“...It doesn’t matter where I found it. My stand is [ Anubis ], the Egyptian god of the underworld. Prepare to die, Jean-Pierre Polnareff.”

Polnareff raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Really, now? I thought you said your stand’s name was [ Foo Fighters ]...but, I think I can wager a guess as to why that’s changed!” He glared down at her.

“It’s that SWORD, isn’t it? That sword is the stand you’ve mentioned...and if that’s the case, then all I have to do is get rid of that sword!”

Foo Fighters flashed a malicious smile.

“...You’re very astute...but your smarts will be wasted, unfortunately.” She unsheathed the glimmering, shimmering sword. Anubis was always in perfect shape, as a sword.

“Your death is imminent.”

Polnareff smirked, putting one hand on his hip and the other on its side, cocked at the wrist towards F.F.

“Oh? Come and get some, bastard!”

F.F. skirted her way around Polnareff, but he caught her in one direction. Strafing quickly in the other direction, she managed to circle around him to the other side of the pillar.

Polnareff took note of her amateurish stance.

“(Interesting...whatever this stand is doing to her, it hasn’t totally gotten the hang of controlling her! Her stance and grip are that of a new swordswoman, but her movements are surprisingly quick...Considering she looks human, but has said she’s plankton, I’m not sure if I’m able to go for lobbing off her hands so she can’t hold it...what a pain in the ass…!)”

At that moment, a great slash went through the pillar.

And by through the pillar, we mean through the pillar, as well as through Polnareff’s shirt. It completely phased through the pillar and the shirt, but still managed to cut straight across Polnareff’s chest.


Instinctively as he was cut, Polnareff flinched back. Holding his chest, he knelt down, panting. “(T-The sword went THROUGH the pillar and my shirt, but cut me! So possession isn’t all this thing can do... Merde , if I hadn’t backed up, I would be dead…)”

Just then, another slash came through the pillar above him, aiming right at the side of his head.


With the distinctive ‘shink’ of a sword being unsheathed, Silver Chariot appeared next to Polnareff, using its rapier to block the enemy’s attacks. He managed to deflect most of them, but Anubis managed to nick his right elbow and shoulder.


Switching from defense to offense, he jabbed furiously several times in succession through the pillar, making thin holes and tossing small pebbles everywhere.

Feeling another close swipe from Foo Fighters, he launched himself back, rolling on the ground and whipping around.

He saw movement around every pillar, a foot or two behind every column. “Agh…”

Polnareff looked around himself. Nothing. He could feel the pressuring anxiety of evil, but he could see nothing. “Nngh--!! (H-How could I?! I lost her! Damn, she’s quicker than I thought! I don’t know which pillar she’s hiding behind...Anubis can cut through solid objects, but Silver Chariot only has a radius of a little over a meter...I’m surprised. Even without much expertise, this enemy is still giving me a tough time! Though, whether I could chalk that up to the power of the enemy stand or Madame Fighters’ physical abilities is up to debate...Nevertheless, they won’t have the advantage for long!)”

Thinking quickly, he hopped up on top of an already-cut pillar, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand and looking around. “(Ha! All right! Just try to attack me! Now I can see a whole damn lot better! You can’t sneak up if I’m not right near a pillar, can you? What, are you going to go underground or something?)”

...Then he heard laughter. Unmistakably F.F.’s.

“...Keh keh keh keh...keh keh keh keh...keh heh heh hah hah hah…”

The sound of metal slicing through stone and air permeated the area.

“What--!?” Polnareff whipped around.

An entire pillar had been sliced in half, the top half falling straight towards him.


F.F. was on top of the column, giggling maniacally.

“My sword doesn’t have to phase through objects! I CAN CUT THROUGH THE PILLAR ITSELF!!”

She raised up the sword, a wide, unsettling grin on her face.


Foo Fighter slung her sword down, ready to cut straight through the pillar and dismember Polnareff.

But, Polnareff was waiting for this moment. A secret technique that not even Jotaro knows about…

Silver Chariot put out its rapier to its side, the blade starting to separate before finally launching out from the hilt as if spring-loaded, firing off towards a nearby pillar.

It ricocheted off of the pillar, and hit her right in the side of the neck, blood spurting out of both the wound and her mouth as the column harmlessly fell down in front of Polnareff.

F.F.’s dusty, slightly bloody body was laying on top of it, still clutching the sword.

“...Phew! That was close! Not even Jotaro knows I can do that. Silver Chariot can launch the blade of its rapier when it wants to...I only have the one chance, though. If the opponent dodges, I’m done for, so I only use it when I’m in a real bind…”

He sighed, putting his hand to his chest wound. It squirted out a little more blood. “Aghh--s-shit...I need to get this treated. Wonder if it’s too late to make the trip back to the Aswan hospital where Kakyoin is…”

Then, a voice came from behind him.

“...Oh…? So, you’re saying that if you were to miss, you would be rendered completely vulnerable…?”

Polnareff stopped, twisting around. “W-What?!”

Foo Fighters had stood back up, the wound on her neck with Silver Chariot’s blade lodged in it still gushing blood. She moved her hand up to the blade and yanked it out, getting a few more ounces of blood out before the wound patched itself up.

She snickered, throwing the blade down the incline into the marketplace, where it was then trampled upon by the crowd.

“...I’m surprised...I didn't know this young woman is something more than human...but, now that I’m aware of this, I only feel more confident...a normal human would have passed out due to a lack of air...but not this girl! She’s almost...more than human! And this also allowed me to plug up my wounds, already…”

Polnareff stared back at her, pupils shaking as he started to sweat. Shit...he already used his last-ditch attack! Silver Chariot won’t regain that blade until he goes and grabs it himself!

“...And you said...that if the opponent were to dodge that attack, you would be COMPLETELY VULNERABLE, RIIIIIIIIIGHT?!”

Polnareff panted, watching her. “(S-Shit, what am I supposed to do?! Take my chances with going and getting the tip of my rapier?! Or…)” He looked behind him, across the river in the direction of the town they were headed to, Edfu. “(...Should I take my chances and evade her attacks until Jotaro and the others come back? What an AWFUL situation!)”

Foo Fighters pointed Anubis at Polnareff before kicking off of the ground, charging forward at him. Deftly, he rolled onto his side, down the incline and hopped onto his feet, swimming through the crowd.

She watched him roll and sniffed. “Tch! A foolish maneuver. It will be your DOWNFALL, POLNAREFF!” Following him, she slid down the incline and into the crowd as well.

Polnareff was half-crouched in the crowd, bumping his face into peoples’ chests and backs while staring at the ground, trying to find the rapier blade. Obviously, it would be long, and thin, and it would reflect light, making it even harder to find against the light-colored sand.

“Shit, where is it, where is it…?! Oop, excusez-moi, madame! Pardon me, sir--” “HEY, WATCH IT!” “Sorry, sorry--OOF!” He had bumped into a man carrying a large barrel of paprika, spilling a good amount on Polnareff and making him cough, his eyes water. “OI!! D-DAMMIT, YOU DUMBASS! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING! THIS SHIT’S EXPENSIVE!” “M-My bad, (koff)!!”

He looked behind him. Through the crowd, he could spot Foo Fighters’ neon green haircut through the more normal heads of hair slowly gaining on him. He lowered his head back down to the ground, and lo and behold, the rapier blade was there!

“Y-Yes! Finally! Silver Chariot’s blade!” He reached down to grab it, when…

...The man with the paprika came back in front of him, kicking the blade away. “AND ANOTHER THING! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, CROUCHING IN A CROWD LIKE THIS?! IT’S ANNOYING! DAMN TOURISTS!” He huffed, his mustachioed face beet-red as he stomped away.

Polnareff clenched his fists and grit his teeth. “...F...F-Fuck…!”

Foo Fighters, behind him, raised her sword. “Everyone, separate! If you do not follow my orders, I’ll cut you down where you stand!” A couple shrieks rang out, and quickly, the people dispersed, leaving an empty circle in the marketplace.

Polnareff stood up straight, looking back at her. She had this malicious aura around her, one blacker than any night…

She looked at him, a coy smile on her face. “So, you thought you could go and grab that blade of yours again? Too bad that guy kicked it away, huh? Now you’ll NEVER be able to find it!” She twirled the blade, starting to sprint towards Polnareff.


Silver Chariot , blade cut at the hilt, appeared next to Polnareff, using nothing but the hilt to block Anubis’ blade.

Foo Fighters locked eyes with him, grinning.

“...Since I’m about to kill you, you should know...I serve Master DIO and Master DIO alone! He brought me out of the museum and gave me new life! My original stand user was a blacksmith from hundreds of years ago, but when he died, I lived on…”

There was a red glint in her eyes as, next to her, with the sound of sharpness cutting through air, Anubis itself appeared. A jackal, with yellow eyes and a blue headdress on a human body, just as was usually depicted of the Egyptian god. It flashed a smile full of sharp teeth and crossed its muscular, tanned arms, snickering.

“...And I will continue living, only after I OBLITERATE YOU AND THE REST OF THE JOESTARS!” He overpowered Polnareff, giving him a nasty slash straight down the chest, forcing out a magnificent splash of blood as he staggered backwards onto his knees, wheezing.

“(Damn it! I need to think of something fast, or else I’m dead as a doornail! What am I going to do?! this the end for me…?)” He shook his head. “(Hell no! This isn’t even close to the end! Come on, think, think…)”

Foo Fighters (and by extension, Anubis) loomed over Polnareff.

“It’s a shame, didn't even put up a good fight! It almost seems like a waste, killing you like this!”

F.F. spit on the ground, before going for a horizontal swing right at Polnareff’s head.


...Polnareff braced for impact, but no impact ever came.

Foo Fighters had coughed, and the spasm had thrown their aim off. Anubis had just managed to clip off part of Polnareff’s hair.

“...H-Huh? ...Oh, I guess my throat must be a little dry...No matter! POLNAREFF! YOU’LL FACE YOUR D--(COUGH COUGH, HACK HACK HACK)” Soon enough, F.F. was doubled over, hacking and coughing. Anubis’ jackal form even started coughing, holding his throat. He barely managed to eke out a couple words.


Polnareff panted, still feeling the pain from his wound as he got up. “...Right...hahh...Now I remember! Madame Fighters told me...hahh...since she’s made of plankton, she needs a constant supply of water…” He grinned. “You haven’t drank anything since inhabiting that body, have you?!”

F.F. fell to the ground, her skin cracking as it dried up. Anubis turned to look in the direction of the river. He’d never make it...but, there is one source of fluid nearby that he can use…!


She made an attempt to cut herself open on her cheek so the blood would work as a fluid, but everything dripped into the absorbing sand, and her skin was so dry at this point that the blood didn't even absorb, it just slipped off.

In one final maneuver, she lunged herself towards Polnareff’s wounds, moving to go and lick up the blood.

Instead, she got a mouthful of paprika.

Polnareff chuckled. “And, of course! I got paprika spilled on me in the marketplace...and powdered spices like paprika soak up water incredibly easily!”

Coughing and hacking, she collapsed, and her grip weakened and weakened until she had let go of Anubis’ sword. The jackal form took a deep breath, holding his throat as he panted, looking at F.F.’s rapidly-desiccating body.

“...H-Hey…!! Dammit! That isn’t fair at all!”

Polnareff walked over to F.F., pulling her away from the sword and slinging her over his shoulder.

“Hey, all’s fair in love, war, and stand fights, tete de chien!”

Anubis just screamed out in anger.


He looked behind him. Joseph, Jotaro, and Avdol carrying Iggy were there! Joseph ran over to him, fists clenched. “Polnareff, where the hell were you?! We went crazy looking for you! You’re covered in cuts and...and…” Joseph sniffed the air and sneezed. “...A- CHOO! Paprika!”

Polnareff huffed. “Ambush stand attack. Possessing sword. I’ll explain later! Right now, take Madame Fighters to the river, immediately! She likely doesn’t have much time before she withers away completely!”

Joseph nodded at him, taking Foo Fighters from him and sprinting off towards the Nile. Avdol and Jotaro approached him, Avdol looking over his wounds.

“My goodness, Polnareff, it’s a miracle you’re still standing with such large cuts...and with paprika in them, too! Though, I wonder...why aren’t your clothes damaged, at all?”

“Again, long story! Please, could you go and get some bandages or something, Avdol?”

“Oh! Yes, of course! Maybe I can get some papyrus nearby…” Avdol hurried off to a nearby merchant who was more than eager to sell him some slightly used papyrus.

Jotaro approached him and watched Joseph run off, sighing.

“...Did that girl really give you that much trouble? Maybe she’s stronger than I thought.”

“Maybe...or, maybe the enemy stand was just strong enough to blur the lines...either way, I’m glad you guys came at the time you did. I’d have probably bled out if it weren’t for your timely appearance…”

Jotaro pulled the brim of his hat down and walked away.

Anubis had been left on the sand, stuck in a sword.

...He simply laid there, unable to move around, or talk to anyone, or do really anything.

Luckily for him, a young woman had been passing by to buy some jewelry when she noticed the sword on the ground.

Picking it up, Anubis was able to instantly take her over.

“...Hahahah...yes…!! Finally, my chance to kill them has returned!!”

Taking a few steps back in her body, he started sprinting towards them.


He threw the sword as hard as he could in their direction, and it was about to stick straight in Jotaro’s back, when…

...They suddenly made a sharp left.


The sword kept twirling in the air before finally landing in a hole in the ground.

“...Ah...there we go! A sword in a hole in the ground...someone’s bound to find this suspicious! Now, if I could just--”

It was then he noticed that next to him was the dead body of the man he had originally tried to take over, Chaka.


Above him, he could hear talking.

“...And so, we conclude this burial ceremony of our valued friend, Chaka Papillon, with a short prayer:

May you be given

Bread and beer,

Beef and fowl,

Clothing and ointment,

Everything good and pure,

Such as the souls of the

Blessed dead live upon.”


Anubis screamed and screamed all he could, but there was nothing he could do as he was buried by pound after pound of sandy dirt, his cries forever being silenced by the ground beneath Chaka’s grave.

Chapter Text

Okuyasu broke out sweating.


Koichi clenched his fist, his face still split into a book.


Josuke, behind the wall of Rohan’s study, thought carefully about his next move while Rohan just watched on with that shit-eating grin on his face.

Okuyasu laughed. “Heheheh, oh, c’mon. Me? Kill myself by self-imomulation or whatever? Hahaha! Hahahahahaha!” It’s clear he’s laughing because he’s worried about it being the truth. “You’re just talkin’ crap! Ain’t no way I’d die in some lame way like…”

...The lighter in his other hand flicked on.

“W-WHOOAAA!! W-W-Why’d I just take my lighter out and light it?!” Being as Okuyasu was now made of paper, the flame flickered and flitted as it eagerly licked against a strip of Okuyasu’s memories.

“You’ll really do it...h-he’s unstoppable...we can’t EVER disobey what he says!”

Finally, Josuke came out.

Although his eyes were tight shut and he looked like he was pouting, he was out.

“So you finally came out!” “I-It feels less like came out and more like chased out if you ask me!”

Rohan rested his chin on his palm.

“So, to avoid seeing my manuscript, you’ll fight with your eyes closed. It’s childishly simple...but it might be effective. In such a small room, I can’t easily retreat. If you beat me in a single strike, you’ll break [ Heaven’s Door ] ’s effect and stop Okuyasu from burning himself to death.”

As Josuke ran towards Rohan, Okuyasu’s strips started to catch fire, his teeth grit. “WHOOOAAAAA!!!!” Koichi reached a hand out. “Josuke!! That’s it! Close your eyes! It’s simple, but it works! So long as he can avoid seeing the manuscript, Heaven’s Door is powerless! He just needs to power through and attack straight ahead!”

Rohan reached over to his desk. Some of the papers flitted towards the edge as he felt around behind him. “Of course, if you do that, then all I need to do is find a way to open those eyes of yours…”

Flicking his arm, he tossed several pen nibs at Josuke’s face, embedding themselves into his cheeks and lips. Josuke flinched and wracked his head around, but nevertheless, he kept going.

Weather Report, beneath the desk, was trying to formulate a plan of his own, listening to the others’ actions. Damn, what should he do…? Thinking back to what he could remember seeing when he came into the study, Rohan keeps the face pages of his victims on his desk, there...Slowly, he peeked over them as quietly as he could.

There they were...they were flat on the desk, but he could see both Koichi’s that his…? Wes...these people have been calling him Wes, right? Was...that his name?

...Domenico…? Was THAT his name, too…?

Urgh...this is just giving him a headache...but, he needs to get that page back, so he can get his memories back.

He did manage to make sense of one thing he read, though...his stand.

His stand’s name was…[ Weather Report ] ...and it controlled the weather.

“What amazing persistence. Normally, because of lingering fear, you’d hesitate, and when you felt something flying towards you, you’d inadvertently look. This is this rate, you’ll counter-attack, and I’ll be finished just like that.”

He rubbed his chin. “If I were the protagonist of my own manga series, what would I do…? How would I force him to open his eyes? Do I have any other ideas?”

Koichi yelled out. “GO FOR IT, JOSUKEEEEEE!”

Rohan against fumbled around behind him, pawing around his desk to find Koichi’s file quickly. He, of course, knew where he put it...but, it’s good to feel around just to be sure. In the ruffling of papers and manuscripts…

...Weather’s face had slid off the table, into Okuyasu, and started to burn.

Weather had, by then, slid back behind the desk in order to not be noticed by Rohan. He didn't even notice.

Rohan managed to finally grab Koichi’s face off the table and look it over.

“That’s it! A method for opening his eyes is written in Koichi’s file! Gads, where was it…? It was in here somewhere...uh…”

Okuyasu was too preoccupied with having his body burnt to a crisp to notice the paper that had landed on one of his extant strips and that was now halfway ashes.


“Found it! Right here!”

Rohan cleared his throat.

That hairstyle is a real laugh, Josuke! Your fashion sense is 25 years out of style! You really think that looks good?!

Koichi screamed. “WHAT?!”

Okuyasu yelled. “WHAT’D HE JUST SAY?!”

Weather, behind the desk, had no clue what was going on. He just insulted his hair, what was that supposed to do…?

Josuke stopped his his tracks.

“If I say that...he’ll kill me, right? That kind of personality quirk is hard to believe, but the file never lies~!”

An overtly pressuring aura of pure hate seemed to swirl around Josuke…

“N-No way!!” “AAAAHHH!! T-T...This can’t be happening! Not now!”

Josuke finally cracked open his eyes, glaring at Rohan with what could be only be considered ‘incredibly intense annoyance’.

“J-JOSUKE! (He found out about that at the worst time possible!!)”

Okuyasu’s strip had started to burn through, and he was really starting to feel the burn. Weather’s file had been reduced to a sixth of its original size, only a few sentences remaining…

“...You opened them…”

Josuke brought out [ Crazy Diamond ] with a sparkling glamour, the grit in his voice coming out more than ever.


Rohan smirked, getting up from his chair.

“Oh? You want me to say it again, hm? Sure! I’ll whisper it into your ear as many times as you like.”

He stood up straight.

“Your hair? You might think it makes you look cool, but…” Rohan pointed at it, snickering. “...It doesn’t make you look cool at all. It sucks. A hairstyle like that these days just makes you look like an asshole with a pomp trying to look like he’s hot shit!”

...Nobody knew what to say...Weather, however, could somehow tell what was coming. Maybe it was the air in the room, or just the intensity of Rohan’s insults, but he scurried out from behind the desk, next to Okuyasu and Koichi. Koichi looked over to him.

“(Y-You…?! W-When did you get in here?! Don’t tell me...d-do we have TWO enemies to fight?!)” Okuyasu, still burning, whispered to him. “(Shuddap, Koichi! He’s an ally! He’ll know what to do!)”

“(No, actually...I was just looking for my face.)” “(W-WHAT?! Y-YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING?!)”

Rohan glanced over to them. “Hey, pipe down, you three.” Ahem. “As I was saying…” Rohan leaned forward and gently flicked the tip of Josuke’s pompadour, making it bounce.

Your hairstyle looks like some ugly, diseased bird crawled onto your head and died, Josuke.

Josuke, by this point, was physically shaking with anger. So much anger. Rage, rage, and more rage, to the point where it felt like Josuke was actually going to kill this guy…

Without warning, Crazy Diamond lunged out, aiming to deliver a punch-rush.


Rohan reached behind him and whipped out the manuscript, its beautiful inking and outlining filling Josuke’s vision.

“AAHHH!! S-SO FAST!!” “That Rohan bastard got the manuscript out before Josuke even had time to attack!”

“...(Where is it…?)” Weather meaninglessly fumbled around Okuyasu’s burning body, trying to find another face cut-out. It wasn’t even on the table…

...No...could it have…?

Shit, maybe it burnt up...Damn it! He knew he should have done something more daring! Stand or no stand, he should still take risks every now and again!

Rohan’s smug face peeked out from behind the manuscript.

“I’ve won.”

Josuke proceeded to completely ignore the manuscript and punch right through it and into Rohan’s smug face.

“B-Bghh...gghh--h-huhh…??” Koichi and Okuyasu looked on, confused. “Huh?” “Wha?” Even Weather looked up, confused as to what had even happened. He had been distracted with his own memories…

Crazy Diamond delivered a second helping of beatdown calamari on Rohan’s sorry visage.


Rohan was sent absolutely flying, crashing through his desk and knocking over everything on it while destroying it in the process, eventually falling to the ground in the opposite wall and having the remains of his desk pin him down to the ground.

“W...W-What the...hell? You...saw the manuscript...I know you did…” His face was bleeding up a storm, his nose broken and at least a couple teeth missing.

“E...Even though you saw it...w-why…? Why…? W-Why didn't you fall H-Heaven’s Door …?”

Josuke furiously marched around Rohan’s ruined study, kicking things over and tearing down bookshelves screaming.


The three spectators looked on from a sizable distance, Weather watching especially closely, astonished at how enraged Josuke became with a few childish insults about his hair...He’d never be able to get that mad, at least...not for any real reason he can remember.

Save for one that he might be able to drum up the energy for…

“No way...he can’t see a thing...his eyes are wide open, but he sure as hell ain’t seein’ anythin’!” Weather looked over to Okuyasu. “What do you mean…?” Koichi nodded. “Y-Yeah, what are you talking about? Do you mean...he’s so blinded by rage that he can’t even tell what’s going on?”

Josuke continued to scream and rant in the background.


“Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’...Make fun of his hair and he can’t see shit, much less some fancy manga panels.”

“I...I-I can’t believe it...I didn't think he’d get anywhere near this mad...I never would have guessed…” “Yes, me neither...I wonder why…?”

Rohan, from underneath his desk, groaned. “Y...Y-Yes...Why…?”

Koichi patted his face. His face was back to being skin, instead of paper! And Okuyasu wasn’t burning himself to death! Weather pat his own face, disappointed that he couldn’t recover the page that was burnt. He still remembers everything up from being put in jail, to meeting Jolyne and the others, up to being with Anasui down in Florida with a headache…

...But, before being in prison, and after being with Anasui until he arrived here is a complete blank...he was at least able to see what his stand was named and what it did, either way.

Rohan twitched underneath the broken wood. “A...A part of Josuke’s personality that K-Koichi didn't other words...information the file DIDN'T contain…! Why…?! W-Why get so pissed off over a simple hairstyle…? There has to be a deeper reason, like you two were saying…”

Weather just glared at him, not wanting anything to do with the man who robbed him of his memories.

Josuke huffed and puffed, face bright red. “I won’t forgive anyone...ANYONE who won’t shut the hell up about it!”

Koichi put his hand to his cheek. “A deeper meaning…? Oh, now that you mention it, me and Josuke talked about something like that on the way to school once...I wonder if that’s why…?”

“Hm?” Weather looked over at him, tilting his head. “What is it?”

“It’s a story from when Josuke was young...I only heard a little bit, so a lot of it’s guesswork. When Josuke was 4, he got a high fever and was on the verge of dying for 50 days...It was apparently around the same time Jotaro mentioned that him and Joestar-san defeated DIO in Egypt. Jotaro’s mom came down with the same disease around that time too, I think, and Okuyasu, your dad had a flesh bud from DIO in him.” Okuyasu made an imperceptible face at the mention of his dad, but said nothing. Weather, however, cut in.

“Jotaro? You mean, Jotaro Kujo? You know him?” “--Huh? Oh, yeah…Why, what’s up?” “...Ah. Sorry, nothing, continue…” “...Okay…?”

“Er, anyways, the doctors didn't know what was causing it, and Josuke’s mom was driving him to the hospital in S City. That day, Morioh-Cho had its worst blizzard in 18 years, and her car got stuck in the snow. She needed to call somebody, but back then, Morioh-Cho was still kinda underdeveloped and there weren’t any houses or cars nearby at all.”

“Just then, in the rear-view mirror, she saw a boy in a school uniform in the middle of the road behind her. She was suspicious, especially since he was covered in blood and bruises and had a split lip, looking like he just came through a real rough fight.”

“She asked what he was doing here, and he asked if that kid in the car was sick. Then, he offered to push the car for her! The mysterious guy took his jacket off, laid it under the rear wheels, and told her to push down on the pedal and not let go. They just barely managed to get the car going, and Josuke spotted the guy behind the car. As they left, the guy picked up his torn-up uniform and walked away.”

“His mom tried to find the guy that helped, but nobody knew. Since then, Josuke’s apparently admired that boy, and even idolized him. Whenever someone insults that part of him, that place inside of him snaps. He even told me himself...”

“‘ I don’t know who it was or where he went, but in memory of that day, I wear my hair the same way he did.’ That’s why he can’t forgive anyone who talks about his hair like that. It’s like insulting his hero to him. I think that’s why. I didn't think he was really being serious when he told me, though...”

Weather Report stood up and crossed his arms, nodding. “What a story...I can understand where he comes from, though. I would get angry like that, myself, if someone insulted one of my lifelong heroes…” Though, he wasn’t exactly sure who that would be. Van Gogh, maybe…?

Okuyasu was in a state of stunned silence.

Rohan, who had been listening as well, shakily put out his hand and went for a pen, grabbing it and raising it, weakly moving his other hand around to try and grab a piece of paper. Koichi noticed, yelling. “A-Ah!! Rohan grabbed a pen!” Okuyasu got up, approaching Rohan and raising his foot to stomp on him. Weather ran up next to him, rolling his wrist and making it crackle. Even if he isn’t a stand user anymore, maybe he can still do some damage with his bare fists…

“You bitch! Y’still wanna fight, huh?!”

Rohan had also gotten an inkwell, and had begun...drawing.

“N-No! Before I forgot, I wanted to take notes and sketches of the story!”

Okuyasu lowered his foot away from Rohan, hands in his pockets. Rohan was drawing with an eager, unwavering smile on his face, almost like he was in a state of euphoria.

“It’s a good story...truly...t-truly, an incredible experience…! I-I’m so happy…! It’s not the kind of thing you hear every day...If I made it into a comic...heh heh heh...I-I came out on top today after all…! I’m so glad I moved to Morioh-Cho…”

Okuyasu stepped back, a little disgusted. “Th’ hell’s with this guy?! He’s about to get his shit beaten back into his stomach, but he’s just making comics!”

Koichi’s eyes were wide, impressed at Rohan’s tenacity. “Whether it’s good or evil notwithstanding, you have to admire that attitude and how far he’s going...he’s like a super-mangaka!”

Weather Report crossed his arms, sighing. “Begrudgingly, I have to agree...He’s got that certain determination in his eyes that can’t be doused by any regular water.”

Suddenly, Josuke romped over, pointing at Rohan with his eyes bloodshot and his teeth grit. “ SO THAT’S WHERE YOU’VE BEEN HIDING, DUMBASS MANGAKA! I’M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET, DAMMIT!

“...You also have to admire Josuke’s commitment to his cause, too…”

“Yep, nothin’ but admiration.”

“...I’m still confused on what has happened…” Weather Report looked down to Koichi. “Excuse me, what did you say your name was, young boy?”

“‘Y-Young boy’...? I’m 15...but, I’m Hirose Koichi.” “Oi, Koichi, he’s one of those American types...y’know, like Joestar-san.” “Oh! Right...then, I guess it’d be Koichi Hirose, right?” “Yeah, yeah.”

Josuke is currently getting blood all over Rohan’s hardwood floor. Rohan’s blood.

Weather Report nodded. “Good...I’m Weather Report, by the way. I had a stand, but I lost it...I’m not exactly sure how, but that’s beside the point. You mentioned Mr. Kujo...where can I speak to him? Is he in this city...Morioh-Cho, was it?”

A tooth went flying behind him.

“Oh! Yeah! I think that he’s in Morioh Grand Hotel! Just ask around, you should be able to find it!” “Yes, thank you, thank you very much...I’ll be coming back to talk to you three, but I need to talk to Mr. Kujo right now.”

Weather Report walked past them and put his hand on the inside of the entrance to the hallway. Okuyasu looked back at him. “Hey, Report-san! If you’re gonna be comin’ to talk to us tomorrow, wait until after 3 pm, alright? We’ll be in school!” “I understand…”

Weather walked out of the study where Josuke was still relentlessly assaulting Rohan, looking around the house.

He hasn’t seen anything of this city save for the inside of this house and the immediate area around it...He doesn’t even know what year it is.

Maybe he’d better do some sightseeing before he goes and sees Mr. Kujo.

Additionally, the following day, an announcement was made to Shonen Jump that Pink Dark Boy , Rohan Kishibe’s manga series, would be on a monthly release schedule from now on.

Chapter Text


Squalo twisted and turned in his bed, the bad taste in his mouth instantly souring his mood as he slowly opened his eyes.

The phone was ringing...ugh, dammit. It’s too early for this...Though, a quick glance over to the clock, reading noon, said otherwise. He sat up and stretched, bare body shivering from the lack of A/C in their house. Next to him was his partner, both in love and in work...Tiziano. He was still sleeping soundly, even with the loud-ass telephone going off…

Squalo picked up the receiver, clearing his throat beforehand.

A teenage voice came through the receiver.

“[ Squalo, are you there? Traitors have emerged in Venezia...their names are Bruno Buccellati and Giorno Giovanna! Capture them, dead or alive! These orders come straight from the boss himself! ]”

Squalo coughed a little and sniffed. “Alright, alright...give us 5 minutes, we’ll be there.” The person on the other end hung up.

Squalo turned around to his boyfriend and lightly shook him.

“Tiz, wake up...we’ve got rats to catch.”

“Damn, this sure is an upscale place! Reminds me of the place I met you, Buccellati!” Mista put his hands on his hips, looking at the restaurant. Damn, he’s hungry...

Bruno, Giorno, Abbacchio, and Narancia (with Coco Jumbo containing Trish, a tied-up unconscious Fugo, and Anasui) had finally departed from the San Giorgio Maggiore church, and had disembarked in Venice. Seeing as they had already been hungry before even betraying the boss, it only felt right that they stop for some food at a nearby restaurant in Venice.

Bruno turned towards his group. Giorno, Abbacchio, and Narancia. Trish was still in the boat…

“Before we go in to order, we should put Trish in the turtle. She deserves a rest from all this.” Narancia looked back to him. “Sounds good to me!”

Mista walked over to him and whispered to him.

“(Oi, don’t remember? The pink-hair guy? Angles or whatever his name was?)” “(Oh...yeah! Do you think we should…?)” “(Now’s as good a time as any!)”

Mista stood up straight again and looked over to Bruno, clearing his throat. He feels nervous, but this’ll help them out in the long run, for sure.

“Hey, Buccellati. Before we would you feel about getting a new ally? Y’know, since we need all the help we can get and all…”

Bruno looked at Mista, confused. “...What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, back at the church, someone appeared inside the turtle.” The group was instantly put on edge, reactions ranging from surprised to angry. Abbacchio stomped over to Mista and gripped him by the shirt.


“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Calm down, calm down! At that point, the only other person in La Squadra was the leader, and there’s no way we woulda shot that guy down with a couple bullets! He’s not an enemy of ours...apparently, he’s from Florida. He’s just looking for some girl who isn’t Trish, and he said he’d help us out if we helped him out!”

Narancia walked over, clenching his fists. “Yeah! And besides, we’re in danger! We need all the help we can get, AND he’s a stand user!” Abbacchio grabbed him by the shirt, too. Giorno raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “What…?”

Abbacchio was still growling at the two of them, and Bruno had crossed his arms, thinking.

“...” Abbacchio looked back over to Bruno. “...What do you think, Buccellati? Did these two numbskulls make a good decision?”

Bruno had his eyes closed, thinking.

“...While I believe that, at the moment they met this man, they were acting rashly and not thinking...their hesitance to kill that man helped us out in the long run. We are on the run...any help we can get, especially from stand users, is greatly appreciated. We don’t have much choice…”

Abbacchio’s eyes widened. “W-What?!” Mista and Narancia laughed and gave a high-five, as their ‘superior officer’ of sorts let them go.

“Yeah, I’ll go tell him it’s alright to come out here! He’s an interesting kind of guy...but he said he’ll help us out!” Mista sauntered on over to the boat, bending down over the turtle.

[ Mr. President ] brought Mista into the room in the turtle, and he looked around. The bloodstains made by that Angsty guy were still near the couch, but everything else looked fine.

Mista cupped his hands around his mouth. “Oi! Pink-hair guy! Whatever your name was! C’mon out, the others agreed to let you help us out!”

Anasui slowly crawled out from under the couch, standing up a little uneasily at first, but quickly recovering. He looked pretty fine, if a little pale.

“Good...And they agreed to help me find Jolyne?” “Yeah, yeah...but, after we finish our own mission, alright? Taking down the boss kinda takes precedence…”

Anasui frowned. Not in his mind, but… “Okay.” “Aight, fantastic. You come out after me, alright?”

Mista looked up at the red window in the ‘ceiling’ and made a small jump.

Instantly, he was back outside the turtle, on the boat. Mista bent town and picked up Coco Jambo, on the street above before hopping up there himself.

...Anasui came out shortly after, to the surprise of the others.

“(Jeez, what kind of freak dresses like that...or, maybe he’s some kinda exhibitionist?)”

“(It’s strange...I can sense that he has a stand like the rest of us, but his somehow feels...different. Almost like seeing someone with eyes that are too close together, it just feels slightly off…”)”

“(Damn, he looks cool! And his stand looked strong as hell, too...wonder if he’ll be any good in a fight, though. Maybe I should test him over dinner, heheheh…)”

“(...)” Giorno stepped towards him, putting out his hand. “Hello. My name is Giorno Giovanna. I trust Mista’s already explained our situation?”

Anasui looked down at him and sighed before reluctantly shaking his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m Narciso Anasui. I’m from Florida.”

Giorno gave a slight smile before gesturing the rest of the group. “This is Abbacchio, and our leader, Buccellati.” Bruno nodded to him, still reserved about this new ally. Abbacchio put his hands to the side of his head, staring at Giorno and speaking through grit teeth.

“Giorno what the fuck are you doing giving all of our names to this guy we just met.”

Anasui looked back over to him, sighing. “Calm down, Abbacchio. If I really wanted to kill you guys, would you think I’d spend all this time sitting around doing nothing? I just want to help you guys with your mission so you can help me out with mine…”

Abbacchio crossed his arms and ‘humph’ed. While they talked, Mista hopped back down onto the boat and put Trish in Coco Jambo,

Bruno gestured to the restaurant. “We’ll get acquainted over lunch. Come, everyone. This is only a quick break to replenish our energy...we can’t waste any time.”

The rest of them agreed and walked in, Mista being the last one as he hopped back up from the boat.

“H-Hey, wait for me! I’m hungry too, dammit!”

“So, about guys know what they are, right?”

Everyone except Giorno was sitting at the table, eating. Coco Jambo was sat on its own seat next to Anasui. Giorno was standing off nearby, keeping a close eye on the surrounding area.

“So, I’m thinkin’...are they allowed to eat cheese?” Abbacchio looked over at him. “Huh?”

“...I don’t think so. I mean, dairy products and eggs have to come from cows and chickens. They can’t eat cakes made with cream, either.” “Really?! No cake, either? Though, I guess that’s good for their health…”

Anasui twirled his fork around some spaghetti. To be honest, he isn’t that hungry.

“I think that’s for vegans...Vegetarians just don’t eat meat, but vegans don’t eat anything that comes from animals.” “Damn, there’s subsets to this shit?!” “Yes, I’ve even heard of pescatarians, who don’t eat meat, but eats fish.”

Narancia spoke up. “Hey, I’ve got another question! What do they use for shoes and handbags?”

“Well, if they don’t want animals to suffer...I guess you’d wear sneakers and use rucksacks, instead.”

Mista gestured with his forkful of salami. “Woah! They got style! So you’re telling me there’s grannies walking around like B-Ballers? I don’t think restaurants would let them in like that…” “Yeah, I never thought of it that way. I didn't have any friends who were vegetarian or anything like that back down in Florida, so I dunno myself…”

Bruno looked over to Giorno.

“Giorno...Now that it’s come to this, sneaking around isn’t going to solve our problems. Just sit down now and have a meal in the meantime.” Giorno glanced back at him.

“The issue now is the sea. Water surrounds us from all sides. We need a way to get through that! I’m sure the boss already has men on our tail. If we can’t cross the water undetected, they’ll just ambush us there, and no amount of hiding will do us any good.”

Giorno returned to watching the surrounding area.

“Yes, I know. Still, we need to stay alert. They may even poison our meals.”

Anasui leaned forward to look at him. “Hey, if they poison our meals, I guess I’ll be safe then, right? (Here, turtle, you want any of this spaghetti? I sure as hell ain’t eating it…)” Anasui looked down at the turtle and started to feed it some spaghetti.

Narancia leaned forward to sip from his soup spoon, and accidentally spilled his wine on a passer-by.

He looked down at the stain, then at Narancia. “HEY! WHAT THE FUCK’D YOU JUST DO?! YOU GOT WINE ON MY FUCKING SUIT!”

Narancia just lazily looked back to the man. “...Eh?”

He grabbed Narancia by the shirt straps, screaming in his face.


Without so much as a moment of hesitation, Narancia took his wine glass and smashed it upside the man’s chin. There was a strong look in his eyes.

“I know what you are…” Mista looked away from his food over to Narancia. “Huh?”

Narancia got up from his seat and pushed the man down, kicking him multiple times on the ground. “The enemy?! The enemy?! The enemy?!” Mista got up from his seat as well, as did Abbacchio.

“The enemy?! The enemy?!” “Take this! Dumbass! Bastard!” “Ora!! Oriaa!! Orua!!”

Anasui just watched them as he fed Coco Jumbo, as did Bruno.

Abbacchio put up his hand. “Hold up, Narancia.”

...The man was on the floor, bleeding badly from the face and covered in bruises.

“...I don’t think this guy’s an enemy. Uh...yeah, that’s just a civilian…”

Narancia put his hands to his cheeks in shock. “S-Shit, really?! Aw, SHIT, man, I can’t pay for this! I don’t have that kind of money!”

Mista bent down and picked up part of his suit, looking at the wine stain, small compared to the pints of blood spilling onto the rest of it.

“Ya mean this? Yeah, this is gonna be a bitch to get out. A wine stain sticks out like a sore thumb on a white suit. He got lucky with the location here, though. If he buttons it up, nobody will notice.”

Abbacchio walked over to the table, taking his fork with some food from it and holding up the man’s head. “Well, what’s done is done. While he’s here, we’ll have him check for poison.”

Anasui watched them like they were idiots (which, in his mind, they were) before looking over to Bruno. “You certainly have some personalities on this team, Buccellati. It’s a wonder you get anything done.” He was blank for a second before registering what Anasui said and nodded. “It’s true...they may be a little strange, but each of them can really be counted on when push comes to shove.”

Anasui looked over to Giorno, who was staring at Bruno. Giorno quickly looked away, going back to surveillance as Anasui squinted at him. What’s his problem…?

The trio that had assaulted an innocent man sat back down to resume eating.

Abbacchio picked up his knife to cut part of his food, looking back over to Bruno. “So, Buccellati, what will we do next?”

The atmosphere grew tense, Anasui looking between them all slightly confused.

“...The boss’ stand obviously has the power to erase time. Within that erased time, only the boss can move and do as he pleases. He’s invincible. No matter who you are or what you try, your attacks will all be rendered meaningless in the presence of his stand!”

Everybody tensely looked down at their food. Save for Anasui, of course. He’d cut in and talk about how no stand is truly ‘invincible’, especially with a human user, but...he knows they’d just get angry at him. They’d go on about how ‘he wasn’t there’ and tell him to ‘shut up’. If he wants these people to help him, he needs to be smart.

“...However...That all changes once we pin down his identity! Once we know his face, we can attack the boss himself and assassinate him! We MUST find the boss’ identity at all costs!”

Mista looked serious as he raised his head up to speak. “ will we do that? The boss erased all traces of his life!”

Abbacchio spoke up, as well. “Trish! Trish contains some kind of hint to his identity. Everyone’s been going after Trish, and the boss was trying to kill her, too!”

Everyone was silent.

“...Am I right…?”

Narancia, trembling slightly, opened his mouth to speak. “I...A-About that…”

“...I-I don’t really like that plan...I, uh, I don’t want Trish to get any more involved in this. Trish isn’t a part of this! She’s gonna be devastated if she wakes up and finds out her dad nearly killed her!”

“H-How are you gonna break it to her? How are you gonna tell her she was betrayed by her own dad? Buccellati, please…! Keep all this about the boss’ identity secret from her!”

“You don’t have to do that...Narancia.”

Trish was crouched down next to the table, hiding. Everyone turned to look at her, while Anasui sighed and rolled his eyes, looking away. Great. Another girl who isn’t Jolyne and can’t help him with finding her. Just what he needs right now.

“I...already know. I’ve known this whole time.”

Trish stood up.

“I remembered something, when you said he erased all traces of his life. My mom once said that she met my father on the island of Sardegna. I’ve heard bits and pieces from my mom when I was a little girl. She met him on vacation. He said he’d be back soon, then vanished without leaving so much as a name or a picture.”

Abbacchio put two and two together. “Sardegna...that was the boss, before he became the boss of Passione...fifteen years ago! Could that be where he grew up…?”

“Sardegna! That’s where we’ll find his past and identity!”

Bruno stood up, albeit a bit uneasily.

“Why are you telling us this? We might end up killing your father! No, in fact, we all vowed to do so or die trying!” Anasui wanted to say that he didn't vow, but kept his mouth shut.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to him! I want to find my origins, no matter what! I refuse to die before finding out!”

The group was silent for a second before Abbacchio laughed a little. “Heh...Looks like she’s a little tougher than you took her for, Narancia.” Narancia was just quiet, spoon in hand.

Mista waved Trish down. “Oi, Trish, we got a new ally, too. Say hi to a signore ...uh…”

Anasui glared at him. “Anasui. My name is Narciso Anasui. Is it really that hard to remember?” “Hey, don’t get mad at me just because I can’t remember such a foreign name…”

Trish just looked at him a little cautiously and waved. Anasui didn't respond. Why should he? He doesn’t care about her.

Narancia went for another mouthful of soup, but was surprised to find his spoon was gone. He looked at his hand, confused, before checking under the plate and under the tablecloth. He must’ve just placed it somewhere, or dropped it on the floor or whatever...Narancia just turned around to one of the other tables and stole one of their spoons, lightly clenching and unclenching his hand. Wonder where that spoon went...As he did so, he stirred his new spoon in the soup.

...He felt something solid in it. More solid than any of the meats or veggies in it…

He raised his spoon and…

...There was part of the other spoon on it.

With a bite taken out of it.

Narancia stared at it, mouth agape as the spoon fragment dropped off of it and into the soup.

Then...he saw what looked like a shark fin making circles in his soup.

“It’s the enemy...the enemy’s here!”

The rest of the group snapped around to look at him.




Inside the turtle, Fugo was currently tied up, unconscious, inside the couch. Who knows when he'll wake up...?

Chapter Text

Jolyne was leaning on the wall of the ghost room created by [ Burning Down The House ], thinking about that Funny Valentine guy and what he said.

His stand lets him travel between dimensions...that’s what he said, right? She’s wondering how that whole thing works…

...He also said that to get her friends back, she needs to gather allies. She has no clue how any of that is going to help...Or, in fact, why she’s even gathering these people.

Nonetheless...she hopes Emporio brings Gwess back alright.

She looked around the room, but just then, she noticed…

...Underneath the broken piano, something was sticking out. Something kinda shiny…

Shiny, and...circular.

Jolyne walked over to the piano and bent down, digging underneath it, and pulled out…

“Whoa, shit! What the hell is this thing doing here?!”

She pulled out one of [ Whitesnake ]’s disks, notably Weather Report’s stand disc! What’s it doing here…?

...Oh! Right! Emporio told her about what happened...he used Weather’s stand disc to pummel that damn priest into the floorboards!

She’d better keep this in a safe place...Like, over here, tucked between the books!

“There, that should be good. Nobody but us stand users can come in here,, it’ll be safe.” She looked at it, seeing [ Weather Report ]’s face in it, and sighed.

Damn, she misses him…

Gwess was sitting on the top bunk of her cell, reading a fashion magazine she’d bought from one of the other female prisoners. It was kinda chilly in the prison, but she could chalk it up to them just not having the budget for heating. It should be warm out, since it’s March, but she can chalk that up to the prison having way too much air conditioning.

She had her green jacket on, reading some cheesy article on what the hottest trends were. Honestly, she didn't really care about the trends, and was more interested in ogling the men and ladies, but she might as well get as much use out of this thing as possible.

It’s been just a little over a week or so since Jolyne broke out. It was a big thing...she remembers Jolyne being attacked by that Miu Miu girl...then, according to word around the prison, she took Miu Miu hostage and escaped. She’s a little jealous, Jolyne being so brave and escaping…

...Ahhh, she kinda misses Jolyne. They definitely got off on the wrong foot when they met, and Gwess had to be in the prison hospital for the next couple days, but then Jolyne at least didn't try to attack her anymore. Mostly because she let up on her urges...but, could she really help it? She was just too cute...and, imagining her speaking in that cute way and dressing up in the cute little mouse corpse~

Oop, she was distracting herself! Gwess went back to reading with a slight blush on her face, flustered by her own thoughts.

“Excuse me…”

She looked up from her book and looked around, even outside of the cell door.

“Huh? Who’s there?” “Uh, me…” She looked down the bunk bed.

...There was a kid sticking his head out of a crack in the wall of her cell!

Gwess raised her eyebrow, confused. “Who the hell are you? How’d you even get in?!”

“That isn’t important...Jolyne needs you.”

Gwess raised both her eyebrows, now interested. “...Jolyne…?” Gulp. “D-Does she want to beat me up again?”

“No, no! She actually needs your help...take my hand. I’ll take you to her.”

Gwess hopped off the bed, scratching some of the hair poking through her hat.

“...Okay...But, uh, before I go with you, who are you, again?”

“I’m Emporio...One of Jolyne’s friends.” He put out his hand.

“(Damn, how the hell’d she make friends with some child in an adults-only prison…? Actually, that’s another question! Why is there even a fucking kid in here?!)”

Emporio led her into the crack in the wall. “(AND WHY IS HE BRINGING ME THROUGH A CRACK IN THE WALL?! I-Is this kid a stand user, too?! What the HELL IS HAPPENING?!)”

Gwess and Emporio popped out into the ghost room, Gwess looking around, deeply confused at what’s going on. This place looked nice, yeah, but how the hell’d she even get here?! And, on the broken piano, is that…?


She turned to look in the direction of the voice. There she was...Jolyne. She had a parka and jeans doesn’t look like anything she’s worn before, and even though she looks a little worse for wear, she still, intimidating.

“...U-Uh...hi, Jolyne...Emporio told me you wanted to talk to me?”

Jolyne walked towards her, eyes half-lidded and mouth flat.

“Yeah. I did. Ugh, it hurts to say this. It really really hurts, mostly because I don’t like you very much, but…” She groaned. “I’m...I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. And I’m only saying that because I need your help with something.”

Gwess’ eyes widened, surprised. She never thought of such a tough girl as Jolyne to be apologizing to her, especially after what she did when they met…

She grinned, hands on her hips. “...Oh? So you want my help, do you, Jolyne…?”

Jolyne rubbed the back of her neck, sighing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’d love to help you! Really, I really would…” Jolyne looked up.

“IF! If if if…” She blushed and put her hands on her cheeks. “Only if you say ‘can you help me, please, Gwess’ in that cute voice I had you do so long ago!”

Jolyne looked at her. “...No. I’m not doing that.”

Gwess turned around, waving. “Then I guess I’ll be heading back to my cell...”

“W-Wait, wait wait wait!” Jolyne was quiet for a second before groaning. “Fine! I’ll do it, already! But I won’t do that stupid voice anymore!”

She turned around, putting her hand to her ear. “Then may I hear it~?”


Jolyne swallowed her pride, hard.

“...C...C-Can you hewp me, p-pwease...Gwess…?”

Gwess squealed, putting her fists up to her chin and smiling. “Eeeee! So cuuute!!” She giggled a little, turning around fully and walking up to Jolyne, grinning wide as she put her hand on Jolyne’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay...Just for that, I’ll help you out~!” “Get your hand off of my shoulder.” “S-Sorry.” She promptly moved her hand off of Jolyne’s shoulder.

Jolyne looked over to Emporio. “Emporio, who was next…?” “You said Miraschon, right?” “Oh, yeah. Miraschon…”

Gwess looked at her, hands on her hips. “Miraschon…? Why her? I thought you needed me for something…”

“Yes, I do need you. But we need a lot of allies. So, we’re gathering up the ones we can at least intimidate into helping us.”

“Ahh...In that case, I guess having Miraschon around wouldn’t be so bad. Even if she’s kind of a time, I touched her hair, and it was totally greasy! It’s like she doesn’t take any showers at all…”

Jolyne made a face. “Eugh. Fucking gross. But, she’ll still be useful. You know her cell number?” “Oh, yeah...I’m pretty sure it’s, uhhh…”

Gwess crossed her arms, thinking. “...Hmmm...Oh!! Yeah, it’s 15-19696-F! But, right now, she’s probably in the courtyard. She goes there a lot, since apparently she’s a big baseball fan...”

Jolyne looked back to Emporio. “Emporio...In the courtyard, you won’t do too well, right? That’s a wide-open area, where anyone can see you.”

Gwess leaned over next to her. “Jolyne, I could go and get her for you.” Jolyne looked at her. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Ohh, did I hear a hint of gratefulness in that statement~?”

Jolyne frowned at her. “...Just hurry up and get her. Emporio, you go ahead and bring her back to her cell so she can go and get Miraschon.” Emporio nodded and took Gwess’ hand, leading her along to the crack in the ghost room.

“When you go and find her, could you bring her to the crack in the wall on the platform on the second flight of stairs…? It’s the quickest way back here without traveling through the walls…” “Yeah, alright.”

Gwess sighed, looking back at Jolyne. “...Y’know Jolyne, you really are cute when you do that voice~”

“Then I hope you keep the memory of me doing that in your head, because I’m never doing that shit again.”

“We’ll see~”

Miraschon was currently in the courtyard, repeatedly throwing a baseball against one of the prison walls, alone. It was nice and warm out, since it was March, but she wasn’t really paying attention to that. She was more just trying to get better at her throws. She’d seen David Ortiz on the TV inside recently, and she wanted to try and perfect her pitching form.

It’s been just over a month since she’s recovered from the beating Jolyne gave her, and she was still hung up on it. God, what a bitch. She didn't even follow the rules right...if everything had went according to plan, [ Marilyn Manson ] would have wiped her out! It’s also the fault of that stupid priest...he was the one who told her to go after them, but he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself? Weak!

The baseball ricocheted off of the wall and hit her in the forehead. She winced and shut her eyes, putting her hand to her forehead. “Ggrrghh--!!! D-Dammit!! Stupid fuckin’ baseball…” She picked the ball back up and furiously threw it to the ground, stepping on it. “Yeah? Yeah, you like that?! Dumbass ball! See how you like it!”

“Hey, Miraschon!”

Miraschon turned around. Oh, it’s Gwess. She knows Gwess. She doesn’t particularly like or care for Gwess, but she knows Gwess.

“Yeah, hi Gwess. What do you want, I’m kinda busy right now…” Gwess put her hands on her hips and looked down at the ball underneath Miraschon’s foot. “Sure does look like it…” “Tch, shut up.”

“Anyways, Jolyne wants you.” Miraschon frowned at her, moving one of the strands of hair hanging in front of her face out of the way. “...Jolyne? What the hell does that bitch want? I thought she escaped prison already. She already kicked the shit out of me, what else could she want?”

Gwess put her hands up. “Don’t get mad at me! I’m just saying she wants your help with somethin’! Come with me, I’ll take you to her.” She turned around and gestured for her to come with. “...Seriously? Oh well...if anything, it’ll be another chance for me to pummel that whore’s face in.”

Gwess led Miraschon back inside, and to the small landing where there was a large crack in the wall. Gwess stopped. “Here it is!”  



“...Here what is?” “...I dunno. Emporio just told me to come over here and into the crack…” “Who the hell’s Emporio?” “Be quiet! You’ll get your answers soon enough! Just take my hand.”

Miraschon took Gwess’ hand. Gwess recoiled a little.

“...Eugh, you’re covered in sweat…” “I was just outside in the heat playing sports, what did you think would fucking happen?”

Nevertheless, Gwess led Miraschon into the crack, and immediately they popped out into the ghost room with Emporio and Jolyne. Jolyne had a hand cocked on her hip, staring at Miraschon.

“Hello, Miraschon.” Miraschon lifted her head, looking down her nose at Jolyne. “Oh. Hey, Jolyne.”

Gwess stepped off to the side, not wanting to interfere.

Jolyne walked towards her, arms crossed. “...I really didn't want to have to do this, but I need your help.”

Miraschon scoffed. “And why should I help you, of all people? Especially after what you did to my face…”

“Because…” She sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice. Is there anything specific you want so you can help me out…?”

Gwess raised her hand. “I’m up for hearing her say something in the cute voice again~” The both of them turned and told her to shut up, upon which she did so.

Miraschon rubbed her chin, thinking. “Hmmmm...something I want...Tell you what!” She dug into one of her pockets and pulled out the baseball from outside. “If you can hit me with this baseball, I’ll join you and Gwess. If you don’t, I get to beat the both of you up as revenge!” Gwess sputtered. “Th-W-Wh--H-Hey, why me?!” “Because you piss me off too!” “What?!”

Jolyne sighed. “Alright, alright, fine. Deal.” “And, to make things more official…”

A cash register chimed as [ Marilyn Manson ], in all its yellow, furry glory, was pulled out.

“I’ll monitor this bet with Marilyn Manson! And, since you said you go!” Miraschon tossed the ball to Jolyne, who caught it.

Jolyne stared at her with the baseball in her hand as Miraschon eagerly bobbed and weaved, moving around the room.

“C’mon! Scared? It’s just one throw, how hard could it be?”

Jolyne frowned at her and tossed the ball to Gwess. Gwess immediately caught it and lobbed it at Miraschon. Miraschon expected Jolyne to throw the ball once and miss, and as such was entirely caught off-guard. The baseball hit her right in the side of the head, and she fell to the ground.

Jolyne walked over to her and squatted down.

“Guess that’s ball game, huh?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up…”

Chapter Text

Jonathan clenched his fists and held one to his chest, looking down at the dust where there once was the brave knight Bruford.

“(Such irony! Such strange destiny! I had to kill him in order to save his soul! Even punished and with hatred, he had such pride! Such a disciplined heart! It was the stone mask that turned it into the madness I am compelled to despise! The one that I can’t the one who controlled him, forced him into this! DIO!)”

Jotaro was knelt down a small distance away, still holding his hand over the gash in his chest. It not only hurt like hell, but it ruined his clothes...ugh, what a pain.’s interesting, seeing his great-great-grandfather in action. He’s such a noble and righteous pisses him off, a little. So noble . Makes him sick. I mean, he’s still a good person, Jotaro can’t deny that, it’s just...he gets the same feeling from him the same way you’d feel about a kid who tries way too hard to be the teacher’s pet.

This wound hurts like hell...damn, he’d be able to probably shrug this off back when he was in high school…


Zeppeli shouted from off to the side. Tarkus had approached, right up behind Jonathan.

“Tarkus…!!” Tarkus simply grunted at him, shoving Jonathan aside as he stomped the remains of Bruford’s armor into piece after piece, growling.

“You COWARD! As a knight who passed the 77 Rings, you’re a DISGRACE! MUUOOHHH!!”

He stomped heartlessly on the armor, shattering it more and more with every movement as Jonathan watched, in awe.

“(That armor could be said to be his friend Bruford’s last remains...yet, he heartlessly crushes it into dust!)”

Tarkus swept his leg across the remains, sending shrapnel flying behind him, towards Jotaro. Jonathan whipped around, putting out his hand. “Watch out!! Mr. Jotaro!!”

Jotaro grit his teeth. “Urgh-- [ STAR PLATINUM ] !” Star Platinum appeared from behind Jotaro, coasting out in front of him and deflecting most if not all of the pieces of armor.

Speedwagon clenched his fists, watching.

“It’s amazing! He’s attacking so fast, we can’t even see his punches! Mr. Jotaro may be a suspicious sort, but he’s undeniably powerful!”

Tarkus turned around fully, the look of death in his eyes. “You fools...weaklings...I’ll make MINCEMEAT out of you!”

Poco, meanwhile, had been watching from behind a rock.

It’s unbelievable...that stoic guy is super powerful! Unbelievably so! He’ a way, him and the buff guy are the people he aspires to be like! Strong, and caring! Both working off of the other to protect his friends! He’s glued to their fights like he’s watching a puppet show...he just can’t look away!

Unfortunately, he had stuck his head out a little too far, and Tarkus took notice of him.

Tarkus turned on his heel surprisingly nimbly for a warrior of his size, and started lumbering towards Poco. “I’ll start with this snot-nosed brat, right here!! URRRGHRRYAAAAHHH!!!!”

Poco fell backwards onto his hands, wincing as the pebbles in the ground dug in.

“Urgh...A-Ahhh…!! H-HEEEEELP!!!!”

Tarkus raised his arm to swing and cleave Poco clean in half with one movement.


In an instant, all the world stopped.

Jotaro had stopped’s not often he uses this ability nowadays, due to how much energy it takes, but still.

He got up from his kneeling position, wincing as a bit more blood spurted out of the gash on his front, before sprinting over to Poco and grabbing him, pulling him by the shirt off to the side.

“Time will resume once more.”

Upon his command, time resumed as normal. Tarkus swung his enormous sword, but was shocked to find that he had swung at nothing. Poco was shuddering, staring at Jotaro. S-Such power…!! Jotaro let him to, pointing over to Jonathan.

“Run along to Jonathan, brat. I can’t protect you much in this condition.” “...O-Okay…”

Poco did as instructed, uneasily sprinting along and into Jonathan’s arms.

Speedwagon craned his neck to look at the boy. “Poco! I was wondering where you had ended up!”

Tarkus turned back to the group, letting out a deep, rumbling laugh as he approached them.

“Let loose the cry of despair…! I admired Bruford as a swordsman who used clever plans, but in the end, that’s all he amounted to!” He grinned.

I , however, am an elite at slaughter! I create death and destruction by FORCE!”

Jonathan frowned at him, a fierce look in his eyes.

“You’d even attack a mere child like Poco…?!”

“OF COUUUUUURSE!!!” Tarkus screeched out more laughter, raising his monolithic sword and swinging it down into the ground, the cut travelling in a shockwave across the ground and splitting it up.

“T-The earth, it is cracking!” Zeppeli stepped back, shocked. “It’s...splitting apart!” Jotaro turned around and sprinted towards them in order not to lose them. He just managed to jump on the block of cliff that had been cleaved off, and that was now sliding down the cliff face, unopposed.

Jonathan held on tight to Poco and the rock, looking around. “SPEEDWAGON! MR. ZEPPELI! MR. JOTARO!”

Jotaro and the others landed uneasily on a rock plateau. Zeppeli looked up and around. “We’re alright! But...where did we fall?” Speedwagon blinked hard, trying to process what just happened. “I-I thought Tarkus was just trying to crush the cliff!!”

Jotaro frowned at the two of them. “That’s besides the point! Look down there!”

The four others peeked over the edge. Over said edge, on the opposite face of the valley they faced, appeared to be a village, or a castle, or something of the sort built into the valley face.

Speedwagon gaped, surprised. “That’s the old knights’ training ground! It goes far, far back! Or, I should say, the ruins of the training ground! Nobody goes there anymore, since rumors started circulating that the whole place was haunted!” He looked back up at the cliff that they were once at. “That was close…! If we’d have fallen a few feet forward, we would be dead by now!”

Zeppeli snapped his fingers. “But where’s Tarkus gone?”

Jotaro grit his teeth, pointing over in the opposite direction. He’s RIGHT THERE, are you idiots blind?!

And, as Jotaro would have said had he no manners, Tarkus was indeed right where he pointed, taking a sheep that had wandered down here, away from its owners, into his hands. The sheep bleated weakly, frightened as it was torn asunder and wrung like a wet towel, the thick blood dripping right into the awful Tarkus’ mouth.

Jotaro nearly gagged. Jonathan put his hand over Poco’s eyes. “Don’t look, Poco!” Zeppeli watched, disgusted. “He’s even willing to kill innocent animals for his goals…?!”

He threw the corpse aside, cracking his knuckles while blood still dripped from his cracked, manic face.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! You all are nothing but sacks of blood and flesh! I’LL KILL YOU ALL AND SUCK YOU DRY!” Tarkus advanced forward with his massive sword, grinning evilly.

Zeppeli whipped around. “He’s coming! Behind me are the ruins! Poco! Speedwagon! Jotaro! All of you, hold on!”

Jonathan looked down at the ground. On it were dozens, if not hundreds of dry, discarded leaves. “These leaves…!”

“JOJO! You know what ripple to use!” “Right!”

Jonathan and Zeppeli both took the deep breaths characteristic of hamon, moving their hands as yellow and orange sparks flitted and flickered around them.

Jotaro watched carefully. Now that he’s thinking about, he remembers gramps telling him something a long time ago… [ Hermit Purple ] came from a lifetime of studying hamon, according to him.

He supposes that would explain the faint, purple lines Jotaro could see whisking around their bodies as they performed the technique.


All at once, the leaves on the ground congregated together. Tarkus raised his sword up high, letting out an earth-shaking battle cry as he swung.

The leaves eventually came together to create one great shape, and Jonathan and Zeppeli hoisted this shape up high.

They had made a hang glider with the leaves, using hamon!

Jotaro had to admit, even he was somewhat impressed with their expertise in this ‘hamon’ shit.

Poco and Jotaro lunged forward, Poco gripping onto Jonathan’s shoulders and Jotaro grabbing onto his leg. Speedwagon hurried along as well, wrapping his arm around Zeppeli’s midsection, as the two of them ran and jumped off of the cliff.

“Hold on, everybodyyyyy!!”

It’s amazing, really...Life Magnetism Overdrive attracts the faint magnetic traces of the human body and amplifies it! By sending it into the leaves, it causes the leaves themselves to magnetize!

Even Poco thought so. “Incredible…!!”

He dropped his pants and slapped his rump, teasing Tarkus as they flew away from the burly warrior, who…

...Appeared to be simply standing there with his sword in the ground. What’s happening…?

Poco, nevertheless, pulled his pants back up and gaped at the two hamon users. “H-How can you guys do this in the first place?! Are you guys human, or...or angels, sent from God?!”

Speedwagon nodded. “Exactly! Since Dio put on that weird stone mask, unbelievable things have been happening way too often! My human logic was thrown out the window days ago, but the biggest mystery is YOU, Mr. Zeppeli! Where in the world did you learn all these techniques?!”

Jotaro groaned. “Does it really matter? What the hell are you guys doing, talking so casually in the middle of a chase like this?”

Jonathan looked down at him. “Please, calm down Mr. Jotaro. There isn’t any way Tarkus could conceivably go after us, now. The only way is for him to go all the way around the valley, and that would take hours!”

Zeppeli nodded. “Indeed. Mr. you know our ultimate goal?”

“Of course! I know it too well! Defeat Dio and destroy the stone mask!”

Zeppeli sighed. “All seems you’re already involved with the stone mask. I’ll tell you a little bit about my past. My past with...the ripple.”

Jotaro just grimaced. God dammit...these dumbasses talk way too much.

While Zeppeli talked on, and on, and on about his past with the ripple or whatever, Jotaro thought back to the incident that got him in this whole mess in the first place. His memory’s a little fuzzy, but...he remembers being in the ocean just outside Cape Canaveral. Jolyne...his daughter...that god damn priest, Pucci, had lobbed knives at her and he had to move in to take them in her stead. That priest said some shit about his daughter being his weakness, he saw that girl with the dreadlocks’ arms get taken off, and then…


Urgh, his face is hurting, again. He can’t remember anything past that...and then, he woke up next to the lake back near that village.

He can’t help but this what Pucci wanted? To scatter his enemies through space and time so they couldn’t oppose him? But, then what would he want after that?

...God, this shit’s too fucking confusing. He’s tired. He wants to take a nap and see his daughter again…

...Especially see his daughter again...

Chapter Text


Esidisi in Ermes’ body wracked and twisted unnaturally, cackling as her skin bubbled and cracked. Her eyes were rolled up so as to show only the whites.


He cackled.


Joseph looked on at her as Esidisi contorted Ermes’ torso in ways it wasn’t meant to go, cracking bones and joints while laughing maniacally. He grit his teeth.

“Oooh...Esidisi! You’re one persistent turd, aren’tcha?!”

“Jojo?!” Joseph whipped around. Caesar was there behind him, rearing back at what he was looking at.

“W-What are you doing?!”

Joseph just glanced behind him. “Hm? ...Hey! Caesar! You’re here! Your final exam go well or whatever?” He swiveled back around to face Ermes.

Caesar’s face lit up, smiling. “H-Hey--!!” ...Then, whatever he was going to say dissolved into a sigh as he coughed a bit and crossed his arms. “Hmph, uh, s-so...guess you managed to survive the fight with Esidisi. Good. You’re one lucky bastard, you know what?”

Joseph just moved his eyes back to look at him, not bothering to turn his head.

“Yeah, thanks Caesar, but now’s not the time! Look at what’s happening!” He pointed over to Ermes.

Esidisi let go of Ermes, letting his stranglehold of Ermes’ mind go momentarily as his influence left from her body. She looked around, confused. “...The hell? What’s goin’ on?” She rubbed one of her eyes, yawning. “...Hey, aren’t you two those guys Lisa Lisa was training?”

Caesar and Joseph stared at her, Caesar glaring at Joseph. “Jojo...what were you doing with Ermes, exactly? If you’ve been bullying her, I won’t stand for it!”

Joseph waved his hands in front of him, pointing at Ermes.. “No, you birdbrain! Look closer at dreadlocks over there! The remains of Esidisi, his brain and blood vessels, have attached to her! And as far as I know, she can’t use the ripple to save her own skin!”

Esidisi forcibly and metaphorically grabbed Ermes by the brain stem, taking control of her speech and actions yet again.

She broke down crying, weeping softly and wiping her tears away daintily with the other hand.

“Snf...Save me Caesar, please! Jojo’s being such a bully! You wouldn’t do such a thing, wouldn’t you Caesar…?”

Caesar opened his mouth to object before Joseph interrupted him. “Don’t tell me you believe that crap coming from HER of all people, Caesar! That ain’t dreadlocks talkin’, it’s Esidisi! Look, he already said that ship sailed a while ago, so why don’t you leave this to ME and you go after the red stone? If that cargo boat gets out of Venice, it’ll be impossible to track down again!”

Esidisi lunged towards the wall, kicking off of it towards Caesar. He just managed to turn around before [ Kiss ] socked him right in the face, placing a sticker on his cheek and splitting his head in two as he fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

“I’LL NEVER LET YOU GO AFTER IT! IF YOU WANT TO RETRIEVE IT, YOU HAVE TO DO IT AFTER YOU KILL ME, YOU NUMBSKULL!” Ermes’ skin bubbled and raised again as he looked over her hand. “...Hehehehe...interesting...I’ve never seen a human with this ability...maybe I can use it to kill you all for GOOD!”

Both of Caesar’s heads spoke at the same time. “Aaaarrghh...That’s a man’s voice! Esidisi’s blood vessels are manipulating her from the inside out!” … “W-Wait, why DO I HAVE TWO HEADS?!”

Joseph laughed at Caesar’s predicament, holding his stomach. “Hahahaha! Man, Caesar, didn't you hear two wrongs don’t make a right? Haha!” He cleared his throat, steeling his face. “But...this is serious! How are we supposed to fight this guy?!”

Esidisi slurched up into the doorway of Lisa Lisa’s bathroom, pushing open the door as he did so. Lisa Lisa looked back, covering herself up in shock.

“J-Jojo?! Caesar?! Ermes?! What’s going on?!”

“Not much time to talk, Lisa Lisa! We’ve got our hands full! Esidisi is in the body of that dreadlocks girl!”


Joseph grabbed Ermes by the chin. “Hey! Don’t be stupid, Esidisi! If one girl’s life has to be sacrificed in order to save the world...then it’s a sacrifice that must be made!”

Caesar put out his hand, all four eyes wide open in shock. “J-JOJO! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

Lisa Lisa spoke up, remembering what Ermes had demonstrated to her.

“Jojo! That Ermes woman…! Her ‘stand’ acts almost as an evolved form of hamon! Not only that, but she’s tough! I could feel it! She has a heart of steel! I have no doubt in my mind that she’ll be able to withstand it!”


“Go, Jojo! Consider this an after-test!”

Joseph moved his hand to grip around Ermes’ neck, rearing his hand back and cracking it into a fist. “In that case, I’d better not hold back! Kkhhoooooooohhhhhhhhhh!!”

Sparks cracked and fizzled around his fist as he threw it forward in a straight uppercut right into the gut and up into the ribs, causing Esidisi to spit out a copious amount of blood as he was sent careening backwards through the air, hitting a pillar on the opposite side of Lisa Lisa’s bathtub. Joseph and Caesar sprinted in, flanking Ermes’ body as something slowly began to slither out of her.

Lisa Lisa watched, amazed. “He couldn’t take any more and left…!”

An ambulatory brain and blood vessels...the only things left of Esidisi. Letting out nothing more than a guttural hiss, it lunged towards Joseph, winding its ambulatory veins around his neck.


The sun shone through. Lisa Lisa’s bathroom is on a always was. It was only Esidisi’s lack of judgement that made him jump onto Joseph while he was in straight contact with the sun.

Slowly, Esidisi...or, what was left of him...began to crumble away.

“No...Leave him like this. The sun’s light is making him disappear.”

Caesar bent down and picked up Ermes’ body. She was still lightly breathing, although her skin was a little tender from being so abused.

“What a scoundrel…! You’d have to be a real bottom-feeder to do something like this to a lady!”

Ermes slowly woke up, blinking her eyes hard. “...Muurrnghh...what a fuckin’ headache I’ve got…” “M-Madame…!”

She looked up at Caesar, momentarily relieved to see someone she recognized before squinting at him. “...What’d you say earlier…?” “Er, nothing, nothing…”

The last remains of Esidisi crumbled in the day.

“’ve got it backwards. I know, because I fought him in battle...Esidisi lived for his comrades and the retrieving of the red stone no matter what--even casting his own pride to the side in the process. I don’t know how many thousands of years he’s lived...but he fought hard for survival, in his own way. Putting good or evil aside...I respect him for that!”

...There was a bit of silence before Ermes flicked Caesar between the eyes. “Get your hands off me, casanova.” He winced and held the area, dropping Ermes in the process. She promptly got up, brushed herself off, and looked around.

She then noticed Lisa Lisa naked in the bathtub and blushed, looking away and whistling.

...Suzi Q peeked into the door, holding a dry towel.

“Master Lisa Lisaaaa~! Your towel is read--oop!” She looked around, confused.

“...What did I miss…?”


Messina threw open the door to the post office. Caesar and Joseph were in the middle of wrecking up the place, furious that the poor counter worker had no clue about any of the packages they were asking about.

“I know where the package is going!”

The two of them turned to Messina. “W-What?!” “Huh?!”

“Master Lisa Lisa used Ripple Hypnosis to put that young woman into a trance...since she was still half-conscious through the whole ordeal, she knew the address subconsciously! It was a little bit of a hassle, but she even got the house number!”

“The package is being sent to St. Moritz, Switzerland !”

Caesar clenched his fists. “Switzerland! So, they’re in Switzerland, are they?”

Messina rubbed his chin, puffing his chest out.

“However! The cargo train bound for Switzerland departed ten minutes ago! The package is no longer at this post office!”

Joseph grabbed the old man at the counter by the shirt, pulling him up to his face. “DAMMIT! Hey, gramps, is this true?!” “WAAAAH!! A-Any, any mail bound for S-Switzerland has already been sorted and should be on that train!”

Messina gestured for them to follow. Caesar put some of the things he knocked over back upright, but Joseph just roughly let go of the old man and left without an apology.

“We’re going after the train! Jojo! Caesar! Lisa Lisa and the young woman are here, too!”

Joseph put his hands on his hips. “Eh? Why the hell’s she taggin’ along? Wasn’t she just attacked by Esidisi a little while ago?” “That is true, but…” Messina looked back at the car.

Ermes waved from the backseat.

“Master Lisa Lisa insists that she will be useful in the future. Plus, it would appear that she has her own mission to fulfill…”

Joseph just sighed and shrugged. “Maaaaan, what a drag...I just hope she doesn’t go getting in our way.”

Ermes yelled from the car. “I CAN HEAR YOU DOLTS, YA KNOW!” “Urk--!!” Messina had a good laugh as all of them boarded the car, Joseph in shotgun, Caesar in the driver’s seat, and Ermes in the back sandwiched between Lisa Lisa and Messina.

Suzi Q was also nearby, standing behind the car.

Lisa Lisa looked at everyone in the vehicle.

“We may have to play dirty to keep them from getting the red stone...we may even have to break the law! One of us may even have to sacrifice ourselves for the cause!”

Joseph smirked. “Not me!”

Caesar grit his teeth, determined. “I don’t know about before...but right now, I can’t lose!”

Messina bit his lip angrily. “I’m out for blood, myself!”

Ermes cracked her neck, snickering. “Hey, I haven’t got much clue on what’s goin’ on, but if tagging along with you guys means I get to see some action, count me in!”

Lisa Lisa nodded. “Then, let’s get going! Caesar!”

“You got it, Master Lisa Lisa!” He started up the car, as it swerved and drove away.

Suzi Q half-heartedly waved to it, sadly turning back around and starting to walk away…

“Hey, Suzi Q! Over here!”

She looked behind her. The car had circled back around, and Joseph was standing up. “Bye for now, Suzi Q, but I’ll definitely be back in Venice again!” He poked up the brim of the leather hat he had picked up earlier, grinning.

Suzi Q smiled wide, laughing. “Really?!”

“Yeah! So, in the meantime, you keep up the maintenance on that body of yours, alright?!”

She blushed a little, nodding. “Y...Y-You bet!”

The car started up again, Suzi Q waving more energetically than last time.

“You promise?! You promise you’ll come back again, right?!”

“Don’t make me say it again! You might be an old hag by then, though! Maybe you’ll even be in worse shape than you are NOW! Hahahahaha!!”

She stopped waving at him, a little confused and shocked by his statement, before picking up a rock from the ground and lobbing it at him.

“You...You stupid JERK!!!”

...But, as she threw the stone, she was crying. She truly wishes for him to return…

Ermes was in the backseat watching this with her arms crossed. After Joseph sat back down, she put her hand on the back of his seat, leaning forward. “Hey, dumbass! That’s not how you’re supposed to talk to women!”

“Oh? And how would you know, huh, dreadlocks?” “My name is Ermes! And...O-Of course I’d know! I’m a GIRL!”

Joseph sniggered. “Oh, so you’re talking to other girls, huh~? Is that iiiiit~?”

She crossed her arms again and pouted, looking away and blushing a little. “Tch. Shut up, you blockhead.”

Caesar chuckled from the driver’s seat.

“Calm down, kids. I don’t want to have to turn this car around.”

Chapter Text

The group had made it to Edfu: a bustling city full of all kinds of different people.

It’s a good thing Joseph had experience in running, as he was able to get F.F. to the Nile safely and replenish her water supplies. For some reason, he felt a warmth in his heart, watching her splash around and laugh in the water so happily.

Either way, the group had, regrouped, at a hotel in Edfu.

Foo Fighters was lounging back on the hotel bed, with a tall glass of water on the bedside table.

“So, you guys have stands, too, huh…? I wouldn’t have imagined stands go all the way back to the 1980s…”

Joseph grinned. “Yep!” He put out one of his hands. Purple vines coiled themselves around his hand with a faint electrical crackle. “[ Purple Hermit ] here can take spirit photos, and also works as a good whip!”

He gestured to the others in the room. “Avdol here’s [ Magician’s Red ] can create fire from nothing, and Iggy’s [ The Fool ] can control sand!” Foo Fighters raised her eyebrows.

“What? The dog’s a stand user, too?!” Iggy, who was soundly sleeping underneath the bedside table, raised an ear in annoyance. Noisy bitch…

“Yep! Jotaro and Polnareff are off getting a haircut right now, but they obviously have stands, too. Our friend Kakyoin, also! Though...I’d rather you see those in action!” He put his hands on his hips and laughed.

Foo Fighters sat up, nodding.

“Alright! So...what’s the next couple stops in our journey?” Avdol dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a map of Egypt, unfolding it and tracing his finger along what was presumably a path on the image.

“After Edfu, we go to Luxor...then, after that, we have to find DIO’s mansion in Cairo. Presumably, that will be our last stop.”

“Whoooaaa!! You guys are really close, huh…? Where was your starting point? Whatever was under Egypt? Somewhere in the Middle East…?” “Hahahaha, nope! We actually started all the way in Japan!”

Foo Fighters smiled, laughing. “Haha, really?! Japan?! That’s so far away...You guys really went on a cross-country trip?! That’s amazing!” Joseph and Avdol laughed heartily as Avdol folded up the map.

Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door. “I’ll get it.” Avdol walked over and opened it. Jotaro and Polnareff entered, their unearthly hairstyles looking as sharp as ever.

“Well? How do I look? Magnifique?” Jotaro glared at him. “You look the same as always.” The rest of the group laughed as Polnareff hung his head, disappointed.

“So harsh…”

The group had continued their trek, now going from Edfu to Luxor on foot. Foo Fighters was given a fan spritzer, a canteen full of water, and a couple bottled waters for the road, to make sure she would be constantly hydrated without having to go and buy new ones every stop.

Avdol was giving them some history on the area.

He pointed with his thumb over to a nearby village of stone houses.

“Do you see that village near the valley? The people living there are descendants of ancient pharaoh’s-tomb grave robbers. Apparently, they’re still digging beneath their houses in search of treasure without the government’s permission.”

Foo Fighters sipped some water. “Wow, really…? That’s insane! You’d get killed for trying to do that sort of thing to the grave of a U.S. president or something…”

Polnareff craned his neck to get a better look at the village. “Do you think there are really undiscovered tombs and treasures in this area, Avdol?” “You never know…”

Jotaro looked around. “Hey, where’s Jiji?”

Avdol looked back at him. “Oh, Mr. Joestar went to the bathroom. He’s with Iggy, so the dog will alert him if anything’s wrong.”

Polnareff perked up. “A bathroom?” “Do you need to go too, Polnareff?”

He looked at Avdol for a second before making a face. “If it’s a normal bathroom…”

Foo Fighters wiped some water away from her mouth. “I never understood it...humans always have to go to the bathroom at least once, maybe twice a day! And it’s always a big thing where you need to go into the special room and take off your clothes and everything...when I was a plankton colony, I could just ‘go’ wherever and nobody cared!”

Polnareff sighed. “Sounds like hell to me…”


Joseph Joestar had seen hell, and it was in the form of a desert’s toilet.

It was nothing but an indent in the sand with some dry turds in it that crumbled away in the wind.

“I-It’s dry, so...the crap just dries up and turns into dust…! It’s like a...a wind toilet! Oh my GOD!”

He bent down and stuck his hand in a nearby large coffee grounds container filled with sand, letting it run through his fingers.

“Is this...Is this where you wash your ass?! With SAND?! I mean, desert sand is sterile, but… oh my GOD...

He got up and walked out, pulling his hat down. “Urrghh...It’s not like I’m Polnareff or anything, but I’ll just hold it until we get to the hotel. What’s even the point of this place? You might as well just take a dump in the open!”

Joseph turned to rejoin his friends, but then...he noticed something on a nearby rock.

...It was an outlet.

He stared at it for a second before circling around the rock, scratching the silver hair beneath his hat.

“This doesn’t make any sense...Why’s there an outlet on this rock? What’s it for? There’s no electricity here…”

Slowly, he put his hand out to touch it...and the instant he did, he was sent flying back by an electric shock, sending him back-of-the-head-first into one of the bathroom structure’s pillars.

“UWAAH!! It...i-it shocked me!” Smoke gently billowed out of the socket holes.

Avdol turned a corner, the rest of the group not too far behind. He spotted Joseph on the sand, smoking slightly.

“Mr. Joestar, are you alright? We must be going…” “Eh?”

Iggy trotted over and sniffed him curiously. “Oh...okay. I’ll be right there. (Phew...that scared the living daylights out of me! I can’t believe it was live...maybe the cables are underground?)” He got up and brushed himself off, pushing the brim of his hat up.

“(God only knows...this place is so surreal.)”

He joined the rest of the group, and they kept on walking.

Off on a nearby cliff, a young, svelte woman was curled up, knees up to her chest on the rock. Smoke wafted out of the lit cigarette in her mouth as she looked back behind her at the group.

She took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew out smoke.

“Men are always trying to touch things they aren’t supposed to…”

She snapped her fingers, and the outlet vanished in a puff of lavender smoke.

The group had decided to take a short rest a nearby small shop, buying some bottles of Coca-Cola.

F.F. decided to just stick to the water she was drinking, though, guzzling from the canteen and holding the metal cap in her other hand. In the background was a low, but constant static noise, coming from the nearby radio the shop owner had playing.

Joseph flexed his prosthetic left hand a little, taking note of how it felt a little rusty. Polnareff noticed. “Is something wrong, Monsieur Joestar?”

“Eh, it’s just my prosthetic hand acting up...nothing unusual.” He sighed. “Damn, and I just got a new one from the Speedwagon Foundation...maybe I just need to oil the joints a little.”

Polnareff nodded, then looked over at the radio, frowning. “Hey, you!” He pointed at the shopkeep. “That radio’s broken! It’s just static...turn it off, already.”

The shopkeeper walked over to the radio and lightly hit it a few times, confused. “That’s’s made in Japan, and I just bought it…”

Joseph noticed that, on the back of his prosthetic hand, there was a Coke cap. It had become stuck to the back of his hand...He looked at it, a little confused.

Foo Fighters stopped drinking and put down the cap, sighing. There were still a few drops around her mouth. “Aahhh~”

Avdol took a sip of his drink and looked at Joseph. “We’ll reach Cairo in about two days...everyone’s at least a little injured and tired, so we’ll stop in Luxor for the night and get some rest.”

Polnareff gave a thumbs up. “Sounds good to me...I’m beat. The stands in Egypt have been a lot stronger, we’ve only been winning by a hair.” Jotaro just crossed his arms silently.

Foo Fighters reached for the cap, but...there was nothing there. She felt around the table, confused, before looking over to Joseph.

“Hey, Mr. Joestar! I know how to put the cap back on the canteen, you don’t need to do it for me!” “Huh?”

She pointed to the hand he had on the table., REAL hand. The cap was sticking to his fingertips. “The cap! You took the cap from the canteen!” “What? What’re you talking about? I didn't…”

He noticed it himself, raising up his hand. “...What the hell?! Why’s the metal cap sticking to me…?” He plucked it off with his other hand, albeit with a little effort.

Foo Fighters stared confusedly at the cap he was holding, and noticed the Coke bottle caps as well. “Hey, and you’re covered in Coke caps! What, do you like collecting them or something?”

“No, no! I don’t know why they’re sticking to me…” Polnareff took another sip. “Y’know, I read somewhere that if a certain electrical current goes through something metal, it can be magnetic...maybe that’s what’s going on? You did say your hand was acting up…”

Avdol took notice, and stood up, walking over to him. “Wait, Polnareff, look. Joseph, raise your hand.”

He raised his prosthetic hand. It had gained two more coke caps.

“...I mean the other hand, Mr. Joestar…” “Oh! Yeah, right…”

He raised the other hand. It had the metal cap stuck to it again.

“If it was due to his hand malfunctioning, the metal cap wouldn’t be sticking to the non-prosthetic parts!”

“What the hell?! So, you’re saying, Avdol, that I’m…”

Foo Fighters grabbed the bottle opener and held it up to Joseph’s side. It flew out of her hand and hit him square in the side. “OW! Everything metal’s sticking to me! Could it be…”

“Have I...become a magnet?!”

The radio on the nearby stool shifted a little.

Polnareff got up as well. “ Monsieur Joestar, you don’t think…? Is this an enemy stand attack?!”

“What?! Really?! But...I don’t see a user or a stand anywhere…! How could it…(Wait! Back at that shitty bathroom...I touched that electrical outlet, and it shocked me! I wasn’t magnetic at all before then!)”

He put his fist in his hand in an ‘I get it’ motion. “That’s it! Everyone! If you see an outlet in an unusual place, don’t touch it! That’s how the enemy magnetizes you!”

The radio on the stool shifted a little more, still spitting out static.

F.F. put her hands on her hips, looking at the group. “Then, in that case, we need a plan to get rid of the stand user! We can’t let Joseph in the city, it’ll be full of metal things that’ll just make the whole thing inconvenient! But, we also can’t leave him alone to be attacked…”

She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got a plan! Mr. Jotaro! Mr. Polnareff! You two, scour the city for the enemy! This could be a remote attack, so she could be hiding out in a heavily-populated area! Me, Avdol, Iggy and Joseph will be here in the desert, trying to keep him away from metal things until the stand user’s taken care of!”

The group nodded at her, affirming her plan as a good one. They were about to split up as asked, before...

“Yare yare...hold the fuck up.”

Jotaro stood up, hands in his pockets.

“Why the hell should we listen to her? She hasn’t been with us for more than a week, and you guys are already taking orders from her?”

The radio from the stool suddenly went flying towards Joseph, Avdol reaching forward and just barely managing to grab it and use his hands to keep it down on the table.

The shopkeeper turned around from unscrewing a plastic container of orange juice, annoyed. “H-Hey, be careful with that thing! I can still get it fixed!”

Polnareff crossed his arms and pointed at the radio. “That! That’s why we should take her plan! We don’t have much other choice, and we don’t have time to sit around arguing about strategy!” He turned around towards Luxor and gestured for Jotaro to follow.

“Come on, hurry! She could already be getting away!”

Jotaro glared at Foo Fighters before sighed and shaking his head, hurrying after Polnareff.

Foo Fighters smiled confidently, turning towards the desert. “C’mon, Joestar! Avdol! Iggy! If we can keep Joseph away from anything metal while looking for the enemy stand user, things should be fine!”

“You got it, Ms. Fighters!” “Understood!” “Bark BARK!”

The woman looked out from behind the shop’s storefront, giggling as she stomped out another cigarette. “Gosh, this group’s smarter than I imagined...but, then again, maybe they’re even stupider than expected. I’ll have to go after Joseph, Muhammad, that lady and the shouldn’t be too hard. That creep Alessi can take care of Polnareff and Jotaro, in the meantime.”

“ out...I’ve been told my influence can be magnetic~”

She walked out from behind the storefront, watching the group travel from a distance.

This’ll be too easy…

Polnareff and Jotaro traveled through the streets of Luxor, scouring the various passersby for any suspicious character. Jotaro sighed.

“This is are we even supposed to find this enemy stand user if we don’t even know what they look like?” Polnareff looked at him. “Don’t be so negative, Jotaro! You can tell a lot about a person from what they look, sometimes you can just FEEL when someone’s got evil in their heart! Know what I mean?”

“And what if you feel wrong, huh, and end up hurting someone innocent?”

Polnareff stood up straight and bumped his fist to his chest. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take! The next suspicious-looking person I see, I’m giving them a nasty slash in the chest with [ Silver Chariot ]!”

They kept on walking, when Polnareff stopped, turning around.

Some weirdo was following them.

Some short weirdo with stupid hair, garish sunglasses, and and awful sense of style…

...Hey, anyone who dresses like that has got to be an enemy stand user, right?!

Polnareff, without any hesitation, brought out Silver Chariot and attacked. “I’VE GOT YOU!”

The man put his hands up, shrieking in fear as he reared back. Silver Chariot only managed to cut the front of his shirt.

After the attack, the man surprisingly didn't cry and run away. Instead, the look in his eyes steeled, and from beneath him something awful emerged.

It looked almost to be a living shadow, darkening the ground beneath it. Its shape didn't match the man’s however: Instead, it was an imperceptible, muscular humanoid figure with two fleshy eyes on whatever surface the shadow’s head was on, and one spike on the top of the head.

Polnareff gulped and jumped up into the air before the shadow could reach him, screaming back to Jotaro.


Jotaro whipped around, [ Star Platinum ] even being revealed with a sparkle before he noticed that Polnareff and whoever was the enemy was no longer there. He looked around, but he was just barely able to see something.

Polnareff had made a turn into an alley, and Jotaro sprinted forward, giving chase to him. God dammit...he hates to admit it, but he supposes Polnareff’s intuition was correct.

Hopefully nothing annoying happens…

Chapter Text

Ding dong~

A nice, soothing bell tone played as Weather Report opened the doors to the front of the Morioh Grand Hotel.

After leaving Rohan’s house, he visited the mangaka in the hospital the following day. Surprisingly, he had no qualms about writing the ability to speak fluent Japanese into Weather’s pages. It’ll at least make it a lot easier to talk to people.

The receptionist at the desk, an old lady, looked up. “Oh? Hello, young man...are you from out of the country? Looking for a room? We have nice prices here, a cheap room’s only 16 thousand yen a night…”

“No, that’s alright...I’m actually looking for someone. It’s very important that I talk to this you know which room a Kujo Jotaro-san is staying?”

“Kujo Jotaro…? Hmmm...let me check, sonny…”

While she looked, Weather looked around the lobby. He had no money on him, but he was able to at least talk to some of the locals around. A young man with blonde hair and a lavender suit was kind enough to at least tell him the year.

It was the summer of 1999...he was sent back in time. It’s remarkable...but, he’s not sure why he’s here or what he’s doing.

The only thing that even rung a slight bell that reminded him of his own time was him. Kujo Jotaro. Kujo...Jolyne’s last name was Kujo. Well, Cujoh, since she Americanized it, but he’d heard stories that her father was a famous marine biologist. Plus, obtaining his memory and stand discs were one of their major missions…

...He can’t help but wonder how the others are doing at this moment in time.

“Ohh! Here we are, young 324. Why do you need to see him so urgently? Are you a friend of his?”

“Yes, you could say that...thank you, old lady.”

He kept that fact in his mind. Room 324. Weather pressed the ‘up’ button on the elevator.

An old man with silver hair, small glasses, and a slouched position slowly walked out, appearing to be carrying an…

...An invisible baby…? Weather rubbed one of his eyes, seeing it.

The old man waved. “Oh, excuse me, young man. Just coming out of the elevator, here…” “I-It’s no problem, sir…”

...No, he must’ve just been imagining things. There’s no such thing as invisible people! Or, maybe that baby was…?

Nah. Don’t kid yourself, Weather.

He stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor.

In what felt like no time at all, he was at the door of room 324. He didn't know why, but his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest…

Slightly nervously, he reached up and knocked on the door.

...And, surprisingly, someone actually answered.

A tall, muscular man in a white suit with a white hat decorated with golden emblems that almost appeared to be melting into his black hair opened the door, looking down at Weather. Compared this man, he almost felt like a child…

“What do you want?” Weather shook his head and composed himself, looking up at Jotaro.

“...You’re Kujo Jotaro-san, right?” He nodded. “Good...the front desk woman told me you would be here. I have some things of deep importance I need to talk to you about.”

Jotaro sighed. “Yare yare daze...unless you’re with the Speedwagon Foundation, piss off. I’m a very busy person.” He started to close the door.

Weather lunged forward. “W-Wait!” He managed to stop the door, the cost of trapping his fingers in it. Owch.

“This is serious! I’m from the year 2011! I had a stand named [ Weather Report ], but I lost it somehow! I...I know your daughter, Jolyne Cujoh!”

Jotaro stopped and opened the door again.

“...” Sigh. “Hurry in.”

Weather Report was sitting on one of the seats around the center table, gently sipping some chamomile tea. Jotaro was nice enough to brew some for him, but Weather thinks it’s more likely that he was already making tea for himself and decided to just share it between the two of them.

Jotaro was sitting across from him, legs crossed and one arm over the back of the seat.

“So let me get this straight. You’re from the year 2011, but somehow, you ended up back here, in 1999? And, in the future, you’re friends with my 7-year-old daughter Jolyne…?”

He nodded. “Yes. She went to Green Dolphin Street Prison for being framed in a hit-and-run car accident. She had other friends in her time there, including an Ermes Costello, an Emporio Alnino, and a Narciso Anasui. If you look these people up in the Florida census, they should be there.”

Jotaro sighed. “This is way too heavy...and, you said you ‘lost’ a stand, right?”

“ was called Weather Report. It had the ability to control the weather...unfortunately, I can’t remember how I lost it.”

Jotaro leaned back, frowning. “Just great...guess you don’t have any money either, right?”

“I don’t have even a single yen to my name...nothing, even in American dollars.”

“No house?” “I fell from the sky, according to Kishibe Rohan-san…”

“Fucking fantastic. So...” He rubbed his chin. “Considering you don’t have a stand, you’re about as useless in helping us out as can be. And handing you off to the Speedwagon Foundation won’t do much good, either…”

“Jotaro-san. If it helps...I’m still able to see stands.”

“What?” Weather sipped his tea.

“When I was in that mangaka’s house, and he attacked those high schoolers...I saw their faces open up, like books. He did that to me, as well...and when that young man with the expressive hairstyle, Josuke, attacked him...I could see it. I could see the stand attacking the mangaka.”

Jotaro just stared at him before sighing. “Yare’re really something. Look, for the time being, you can stay with me. If nothing else, you might be useful in scoping out possible stand users…But you oughta take a look around the town, first. Get yourself acquainted with the locals. Me and Josuke have to go hunting later today, so we’ll be busy until then.”

Weather Report nodded to him. “Thank you, Jotaro-san.”

Weather Report, now, had been exploring the quiet little town of Morioh-Cho.

It was so peaceful here...but, from the way Jotaro talked about things, there was apparently some kind of looming threat or problem the town is facing.

He didn't do much, really...he just strolled along the sidewalk. He waved to some young people loitering around Budogaoka High, and momentarily considered going in to see if the local Italian restaurant served the homeless, but overall nothing much happened.

He passed by the St. Gentleman’s Bakery on the way, making his stomach grumble. He should have asked Jotaro for some food, he’s just realized he hasn’t eaten anything since coming here…


He turned around, scratching his head through his fluffy hat.


Weather looked over to the source of the noise. It was a cafe, the sign above the outside tables reading “Cafe Deux Magots”.

At one of the tables were two people he recognized. It was the short young man and the one with the facial scars. What were their names…?

...Oh! Yes! Koichi Hirose and Okuyasu Nijimura.

He raised his hand to wave. It was Okuyasu who had been yelling for him in his coarse voice.


Weather Report approached them, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“Hello.” “Hey!” “Yo, Report-san! How’s things? You likin’ Morioh-cho so far?” He sighed. “It’s certainly a nice even reminds me a little of some of the nicer cities back in Florida.”

“Heh, damn, what a compliment!” “Hey, Report-san, I heard word that you’re staying with Jotaro now. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s true...I don’t have a home of my own. According to that mangaka, I just fell out of the sky…” “Whoa, shit, really?! That’s fuckin’ unbelievable! Who just falls outta the sky?! Maybe he was just joshin’ ya.”

Weather shrugged. His stomach growled more, and he put a hand on his midsection, wincing.

“Oh, are you hungry?” Koichi looked down at the sandwich he had just gotten from the bakery, then over at Weather. “Hey, if you want, I can give you half of my sandwich.” “Urk...y-yes, thank you. I don’t even have any American money in my pockets, so I can’t pay for anything…”

Koichi grabbed a knife and cut his sandwich in half, giving the other side to Weather. He picked it up, looking it over.

“I’ve never had real Japanese food before...what’s in this?” “Oh, it’s chicken teriyaki, tomato, and lettuce! My favorite...b-be glad I’m sharing it with you!” Okuyasu chomped down on his own sandwich. It looked like it was just all meats and sauces…

Weather took a bite. “’s good.” “Yeah! I knew you’d like it!”

Okuyasu leaned his head, looking down the street.

“Oh shit! Here comes Yukako!”



Okuyasu leaned over to him and whispered, his mouth full of food. Weather scrunched his face up a little at smelling his breath. “(That Yukako girl’s bad news whenever she rolls around! She’s OBSESSED with Koichi! Just act normal!)”

...From down the street, Yukako walked along, her school bag in her right hand.

She passed by their table, looking at them. Her face lit up, and she smiled, blushing.

“Hiiii, Koichi-kuuuuun~”

Her face dropped, glaring at the other two.

“Hey, what’s-your-name and what’s-your-face.”

She kept on walking after that.

Koichi let out a breath, sighing. “Haaahhh...she scares me so much…”

Okuyasu frowned. “Yeah, what a bitch…”

Weather Report tilted his head. “You said her name was Yukako, right…? Does she go to your high school?”

“Yeah, Budogaoka.” “I see…”

What an interesting person…

Following that interaction, Weather Report finished up his sandwich, said his goodbyes to the two high schoolers, and went on his way.

On his way back to the hotel, he bumped into a man.

A man who was likely in his mid-30s or so, with tired eyes and spiky, black hair. He dropped his briefcase as he was bumped into, dropping it on the ground and having it fall open, spilling papers across the pavement.

On the top of the briefcase, engraved on a plate, was his name:

[ 川尻 浩作 ]

“Ah! I’m sorry, sir. Let me help you out with that--” “No, no. It's fine. I can handle it myself.”

The man sounded flat, and dead inside. He just bent down and picked up the papers himself, putting them back in his briefcase.

Weather Report just shrugged and kept walking.

There are certainly some interesting people in this town.

Chapter Text


Narancia reared back, Aerosmith whizzing out from behind him and shooting its gatling rounds into the soup bowl, shattering it and sending soup drops flying everywhere.

The group suddenly sprang into action, Bruno shouting orders. “Giorno! Get Trish inside the turtle and keep her safe! Abbacchio, you take the right! Mista, you take the left! Anasui, watch the canal!” Anasui sprung up out of his seat and vaulted himself over the table to get a better look at the canal.

Mista pulled out his gun, holding it close to him as he backed up next to Narancia, feverishly looking around. “Where is he?! Narancia, where’s the enemy?!” Narancia pointed at the soup puddle and bowl fragments on the ground. “I-Inside the soup! He was hiding in there all along!”

Mista looked at the remnants suspiciously and pointed his gun at them.

“...Where?” Narancia’s mouth was left open, confused at what was going on as the rest of the group turned to look at him.

“H...He’s gone! I definitely saw a fin coming out of my soup! It looked like some kinda shark!”

It was then he noticed that he was still holding a spoon full of soup.

And it was also then that he noticed a conspicuous fin making its way through the liquid…


The shark in his spoon lunged out, tearing the front half of his tongue clean off. It was torn off so quickly and so cleanly that it was steaming, and it was barely bleeding.

The group suddenly became all the more aware. “N-Narancia?!” Mista was the slowest to notice. “What’s wrong?!”

Narancia fell to the ground, twitching and panting as the shark, now in the puddle of soup, ate up his tongue with soft chewing motions.

It then teleported to a nearby water bottle that had fallen over in the ruckus. “...H-Hahh…?!”

Mista bent down and shook him a little, yelling. “Narancia?! What’s wrong?! Say somethin’, dammit! Did you get hit?! Are you hurt?!”

He wasn’t able to do anything but choke and cough. “(M-My throat’s seizing up...I...I c-can’t breathe…! S...S-Shit! I’m gonna black out…! I can’t attack with Aerosmith anymore!)”

Anasui had been keeping a diligent watch on the canal, only occasionally glancing back to the action. He had now made a decision: That was boring as shit, and if he wanted to prove himself useful, he might as well do something useful.

He turned around as Abbacchio ducked past and looked around for the enemy. “Here already? Damn, they’ve got guts, taking on all six of us at once.”

Anasui walked over to Narancia and squatted down, leaning his head to look at his face. “Narancia. Point to where you’re hurt. It’s obvious something happened! Go on, gesture!”

Narancia eked out a few more choking noises, frantically pointing at his mouth.

Anasui snapped his fingers. “Hey! Mista! Look in his mouth, already! Get someone who can heal wounds!” “S-Shit, right! Giorno, over here!”

As they scrambled to help Narancia out, Bruno and Abbacchio kept watch. In the chaos, Narancia was able to see the shark on the glasses left on the table.

It went from a glass of mineral a glass of wine...with no splashes!

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Mista squeezed himself in between Anasui (who subsequently got up and took a couple steps back) and Narancia, peering into his mouth.

“OH SHIT! Giorno, you better get the fuck over here! HIS TONGUE! NARANCIA’S TONGUE IS GONE! He probably hasn’t been breathing all this time!”

Giorno hurried over, bending down to look at him.

“It won’t work… [ Gold Experience ] can create a new tongue, but it’ll take time.” “YOU SHITTIN’ ME?! HE’S GONNA SUFFOCATE!” “ you have a pen?”

Mista stopped panicking and just stared at Giorno.

“There’s no time! Unfortunately, I don’t have one of my own...If anyone here has one, I’d like one, please.” “Whoa! S-Shit, yeah, I got one right here!” Mista dove one of his hands into his pockets and pulled out a pen, fumbling with it for a second before handing it to Giorno.

Giorno took it, and...subsequently jammed it into Narancia’s neck.

The group watched, shocked and confused. Anasui put his fist up to his mouth to mask how he was holding back laughter.

Giorno leaned down a little more, unscrewing the back of the pen and pulling it out.

Multiple puffs of air came through. “I’ll give this pen life and make it into a tongue...that way, he’ll be able to breathe while his tongue regenerates.”

From atop the neighboring rooftops, two people watched the ruckus.

Squalo and Tiziano. Two partners, inseparable in love and work.

Squalo gently swished a small cup of water in his hand, the shark from earlier appearing in it. Obviously, it was his stand, [ Clash ] , able to teleport between liquids.

Tiziano was tall, with platinum hair and dark skin, while Squalo was a bit shorter with orange hair out in multiple ponytails and fair skin.

Tiziano sighed. “I that’s Giorno Giovanna. The boss’ message is starting to make sense. The ‘new kid’ is the one we need to be most wary of, he said.”

Squalo looked over to him. “Yeah...Honestly, I thought Clash alone would get the job done. I’m surprised they managed to save Narancia, but...also. There’s another person there.” Tiziano looked up at Squalo. “Hm?”

“That man...with the long pink hair, and the lattice shirt. He wasn’t mentioned at all...who is he? He alerted the group quickly to Narancia’s condition, so he must be pretty observant…”

Tiziano shook his head. “While it’s true we don’t know what he’s capable won’t matter. Picking them off one by one will be simple.”

“Guess you’re right...we wouldn’t want to take any chances going after all of them at once. We’ll get to him eventually...Tiziano, are you set up?”

“’s all going according to plan. I’ve set up inside Narancia’s mouth… [ Talking Head ] is ready to go.”

“Good! One by one…yeah, we can’t be too careful! We have to follow the plan. And Narancia...will be our pawn, heheheh…”

Narancia coughed and hacked, sitting up. Bruno bent down next to him. “You alright, Narancia?”

“Y-Yeah…(KOFF KOFF) Y-You guys saved my life…”

Abbacchio looked around suspiciously. “The enemy must be remote-controlled. So now, the question is, how do we get out of here without being ambushed? Do we take the bridge, or cross the sea?”

Bruno looked concernedly at Narancia. “Can you talk now? What did you see? How did the enemy stand attack you?”

“(R-Right! WATER! We need to stay away from water!) I-It came from the…(KOFF) the s-soup…!”

“Are you alright, Narancia?” “(KOFF) Y-Yeah, I can talk now…”

Unbeknownst to Bruno or anyone else save for the enemy at this moment, Narancia was not alright.

Talking Head had already attached itself to his tongue.

“We should go through the canals, Buccellati! It was this HUGE, rocky thing! It went and ran behind a building! ...Huh?”

The rest of the group looked at him, confused.

“...W-What did I just say…?”

Bruno lowered his head. “Narancia, what did you just say?”

Narancia stared back. “...What... DID I just say…?”

Mista stepped forward and prodded at him.

“Didn't you just say a HUGE stand attacked you? But...earlier, you also said it was in the soup plate. It just don’t add up. Didja mean to say somethin’ else? Well?”

“Yeah! Y-Yeah, I totally saw it!” He clenched his fist. “The enemy was this GIGANTIC stand! ...Huh?” Narancia started to sweat. “...H-Huh…?! N-No, I…! I...what did I...again! What did I just say?!”

Anasui watched Narancia spit out confident statements followed by confusion carefully. Something is definitely up. He wasn’t doing this before his tongue got severed. There’s no way he’d say things with such conviction and then react with such confusion.

Mista squinted at him. “It was gigantic? How can it be so BIG if it was in your soup plate? How we talkin’ ‘bout here? Like…” He put his index fingers about 3 inches apart. “...This big?”

Narancia shook his head. “Nope!” He put his hands to his face, in shock yet again. “W-What?! No! N-No, that’s not what I meant! Not like that!”

Mista tilted his head, moving his hands further apart, about a foot or two. “ ‘bout this big?”

“Wrong! ...I-I mean, no, not the size! I mean something’s wrong with ME!”

Anasui frowned. Is this guy really not getting this…?

He looked at the rest of the group. They were all looking straight at him, but...they just looked kind of confused.

...Is nobody picking up on this…?

“No? Then…” Mista put out his hands even further. They had to be about 5 feet apart. “...This big?”

Narancia nodded. “Yep! That’s it!”

The entire group burst out into ‘huh’s and ‘what’s. “Hey! So, you’re tellin’ me...somethin’ THIS BIG was in your soup plate, and then it ran into the store?”

Narancia clawed at his face. “(N-No…! Something strange is happening to me! Am I...lying uncontrollably?! When people ask me something, I say the OPPOSITE!)”

Bruno put his finger to his bottom lip, thinking things through. “Narancia, your description of the enemy isn’t really making sense to us...let me double-check! The enemy’s rocky, huge, and you struck it with a swift blow, correct?”

“NOPE! He was HELLA slow!”

Everyone became confused all over again. Anasui crossed his arms, full-on frowning at this point. Is everyone here a senseless meathead…? But who knows. He’ll wait until he sees something that CEMENTS that something’s up with Narancia to raise a complaint. Everything up until now could just be him being a dumbass.

Mista pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Narancia! Somethin’s up with you! You’re contradicting all the facts! Nothin’ you say makes any sense! If it’s so BIG and SLOW, how come none of us saw it?!” Abbacchio frowned at him. “...Did you even see the enemy stand…?”

“I-I-I-I-I…(This is s-seriously weird! What the hell’s going on?! Whenever I open the mouth, I say the opposite of whatever I’m thinking! Wait a sec! Could it be...something happened to my tongue when I was attacked?!)”

Narancia, shaking, dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out a small hand mirror, looking at his tongue in it.

Nothing out of the ordinary...Of course, in truth, things were out of the ordinary. Talking Head had just spun around to the other side of his tongue.

Anasui sighed and uncrossed his arms, pushing through the crowd. “Alright, alright. Move aside. I have an idea.” Abbacchio grit his teeth, frowning. “Urk...Hey! The fuck do you think you’re doin’, you prick?! Just because Bruno said you’re an ally doesn’t give you the right to boss us arou--” Bruno put up his hand, looking at Abbacchio. That shut him up.

Anasui walked over to Narancia and bent down. “Narancia. Is something wrong with your tongue?” Narancia shook his head. “Nope! Everything’s fine and dandy! (S-SHIT, WHY’D I SAY THAAAT?!)” He clutched his head, sweating and frowning. Anasui looked back at the group. “...You guys really think that’s normal? He checked in the mirror and everything...yet, when he said things were alright, he reacted like the opposite was true.” The group murmured amongst themselves, Giorno looking towards the canal.

“ matter the situation, Narancia was still attacked! We should take the boat and escape, right away!”

Narancia looked over to Giorno, getting up and thrusting his hand out. “G-GO, GIORNO! WE GOTTA TAKE THE BOAT DOWN THE CANAL! H-Huh?! No!” He gripped Giorno’s arm, trying to pull him back. “N-No, no! Augh, that’s not what I meant! ARRRGHHH!”

Giorno glanced at Anasui, then back at Narancia. “Yes, you’re right, Narancia. Let’s take the boat.”

Narancia wrapped his arm around Giorno’s and kicked his feet, trying to get him away from the boat as he screamed and yelled. “UUAAAAGGHHHH!!!! PLEASE, TAKE THE BOAT! WE GOTTA GO RIGHT NOW, GIORNO!”

Anasui clenched his fists, throwing them up in the air. “Alright, that’s it, dammit!” He stomped over to Giorno and Narancia, tapping Giorno gently on the shoulder. “(Hey, blondie, mind stepping back away from the canal?)” “(...If you say so.)” Giorno stepped back from the canal, and Anasui grabbed Narancia by the shirt straps, staring at him.

Narancia looked into his eyes and gulped. “(T-This is my chance…!)”

“Y-You! Blue hair guy! Two times two is five! Three plus three is eight! Do you get it yet?! You get what I’m saying, right?! Sharks are plants! Mt. Fuji is the tallest mountain in the world! I’m a girl! Bruce Lee’s a girl, too, and Stallone too! Cats fly in the sky and it’s a rainy day, today! Tomatoes are black! Clouds are black! Ferraris are black, too!”

Anasui grit his teeth. “Yeah, yeah, I get all that...I think I know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you! My name’s Narciso Anasui, you got that?! Got it drilled into your head?! So! Tell me what my fuckin’ name is!”

Narancia’s eyes widened. “(Y-Yeah…! He’s getting it!! Anasui…! His name is…!!)”

“Y-Your name is...EDDIE VAN HALEN!”

The rest of the group stared silently at him.

“...S-Shit…!” Anasui sighed, letting go of him and turning around to the group. He looked back at the canal, stepping away from it.

...Meanwhile, Narancia’s tongue had begun to snake its way out of his mouth and into his pocket, pulling out his switchblade. “(What…?! What the hell’s going on?! My tongue...It IS my tongue!)”

Anasui was in the way of the gang’s view of Narancia, so they weren’t able to notice. Anasui cracked his neck, staring at all of them. “It’s obvious what’s going on here. I don’t know how any of you noticed...Narancia can only s--”

He was interrupted by...being stabbed in the back of the neck with the switchblade.

Anasui gurgled up a couple cups of blood, staggering.

“Grggrglll…(S-Shit…! My throat’s full of blood! I can’t speak…)”

Squalo clenched his fists. “Shit! That pink-hair guy is way too observant! He saw straight through your Talking Head ! This plan’s going off the rails! W-We need to act fast, Tiz--”

He looked at Tiziano.

Tiziano was silent, and yet...he had a smug, confident look on his face. “No, Squalo. Calm yourself. Our plan isn’t done for just yet. True, that Anasui is too smart for his own good...but now, I’ve come up with an adjustment to the plan. I just had to shut that man up for a few seconds to put it into action...But now, we have a new issue. Our first target has changed...Giorno was originally the one to target first, correct?”


“But now, someone’s come up that’s more of a threat to our ‘strategy’...what was his name…? Anasui...He will be our target. I’ll use Talking Head to isolate him...then, you can use Clash to tear his throat out!”

“I think I get it! But...he’ll recover soon enough. How are you going to do that?”

“Calm down, Squalo...remember. Talking Head can be taken on and off of a person’s tongue at my command. I’ll simply let Anasui say that Narancia can only say lies…”

Tiziano smirked.

“And pull some strings to let him tell a combination of truth and lies .”

Squalo smiled at him, nodding.

“I get never cease to amaze me, Tiz!”

“Thank you, Squalo, but I’d advise to save talk like that after the mission is over…”

He looked back down at the group, snickering.

“...We have some pests to take care of beforehand.”

Inside the couch, Fugo was still unconscious. And yet, within could feel he was soon going to awaken.

Though, time only tells which side he’ll be on, especially after being forced along with the heroes by Anasui.

His fate still tumbles in the hands of God even now...

Chapter Text

Gwess rested her chin on Jolyne’s shoulder, smiling. “So, who’s next~?” “Don’t touch me.” Gwess moved away from her, sighing.

“Should be...Lang Rangler.” Miraschon was pulling out one of the books from the bookshelf. ‘Gulliver’s Travels’...

”Lang Rangler? Oh, I think I know him...Some of the other inmates like to poke fun at him for being a nerd.” Jolyne looked back at her. “A nerd…? He sure as hell didn't look like one when he was fighting me and Weather Report…But, if you say so. You wanna go and get him?”

Miraschon frowned at her. “...Why should I?” “If you don’t, I’ll break your nose again.” “...F-Fair point...but, first, I have a question.”

She walked over to the piano and leaned over it. “Why’s this piano busted up? It’s stained with blood, too...What the fuck went on over here?” Gwess tilted her head, nodding. “Yeah, I was wondering that, too...there was a body on there, too, wasn’t there? It looked like the prison priest, Father Pucci…”

Miraschon smirked. “Really? Father Pucci…? The fuck was he doing here? And why was he ground to a pulp on this piano…? I mean, he was an ass, but still.”

Jolyne turned around. “He had to be defeated. He was going to reset the universe in its entirety.” Emporio stayed silent, frowning.

Gwess gaped at her. “Whoa!! So,’re saying YOU beat that guy up beyond recognition?!”

“What? No! Wasn’t me. I was…’out of commission’, I’ll say. That was Emporio.” She gestured to Emporio, who meekly waved.

The two of them were silent. Miraschon gulped. “...Uh...O-Okay, well, I usually see Lang over in the library...I’ll go, uh, look for him there.”

Miraschon started to hurry over to the crack in the wall, when Jolyne put out her hand. “HEY! ONE MORE THING!” She stopped.

“...Take the book out of your clothes, already. Damn klepto.”

Miraschon groaned, digging her hand into her shirt and tossing out ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ before leaving.

Lang Rangler was in the prison library, pouring over a physics textbook. He still had a slight twitch in his left eye due to the lack of oxygen during that fight he had with that whore and her gay friend, but the doctors said he was fine enough to be released back into the prison proper. He still punched his bed every night, pissed off about how he was so heavily disgraced by those two people…

...Hmph. But, that isn’t important...he’s in the middle of studying. There’s a physics exam soon in the in-prison university, and he needs to pass. Ever since he was a child, he’s wanted to be an astrophysicist. Nothing ever came of it after he stabbed that professor, though...of course, now that he’s in prison, he can actually afford to go to university. Ironic, huh? She deserved it, either way.

Seeing as how Lang Rangler was in his zero-G gear through the entirety of his fight with Jolyne and Weather, it’s only natural he’d take the damn thing off while studying. Instead, he had on a purple Lakers baseball cap with a yellow brim, a black leather jacket covered in chintzy stickers from everywhere he could find (with “G.D. St. Prison” painted on the back in white, of course), a deep brown v-neck shirt where the cut went down to just above his stomach, khaki pants with holes at the knees, and red-and-white sneakers. It was small, but he also had an X-shaped scar on his forehead, one of the legs of the X overlapping his left eyebrow.

His slightly curly, dark green hair hung down invading his vision as he read. Dammit, physics is so annoying…He chewed on the end of his pen, trying to figure out a particularly tough subject. Something on quantum particles or whatever...

“Hey, Lang.” Lang Rangler clenched his fists, breaking his pen as he grit his teeth, whipping around to look at Miraschon. “The fuck do you want?! I’m busy! Leave me the hell alone!” “Hey, shut the fuck up! I’ve got somethin’ I need to tell you, passed on from someone else!”

Lang Rangler glared at her for a second before spitting, grimacing. “Make it quick.”

“It’s Jolyne. Jolyne Cujoh, you know?”

He slowly turned to look at her, pupils shaking from blind rage.

“...Did…” He inhaled, shakily. “ say...Jolyne…?”

“Uh, yeah? Don’t have to be such a twerp about it. C’mon, I’ll take you to her.”

Lang Rangler got up, running his hand along the surface of his baseball cap. “(...This is it...this is my chance...The chance I get to finally get my fuckin’ revenge! Dammit, it’s gonna feel so good…! I can’t wait to wipe that dumbass smirk right off her fuckin’ face!)”

Miraschon gestured for him to follow, and follow he did. After putting away his books, of course.

They eventually arrived at the same crack Gwess had brought Miraschon to. Miraschon crossed her arms, looking at him. “Get in.”

“...The fuck do you mean ‘get in’, bitch? I’m not your dog.” Miraschon glared at him. “Just get in the crack already, you baby.” “Don’t call me a baby, you--”

She leaned over and pushed him into the crack while he was talking. He was so annoyed, he didn't even realize he had come out into the ghost room.

“--Filthy fuckin’ slut!”

Gwess leaned back to look at him. Jolyne crossed her arms, staring at Lang Rangler quizzically.

Lang Rangler noticed where he was, staring at Jolyne. His green eyes shuddered in anticipation. Oh, he knows EXACTLY what he’s going to do.

He stomped up to Jolyne, teeth grit, eyes flaring, fists clenched.

He took in one big inhale through his teeth, and raised his hand in a point, intruding his index finger right into her face.

“Hey, you’re Lang Rangler, right? Hope don’t look familiar. Anyways, I need your help.”

Jolyne completely ignored how angry he was and interrupted him.

He blinked a couple times, his mouth hanging open in confusion as he lowered his hand.

“...What…?” “You heard me. I need your help. How many times do you want me to say it?”

Lang stared at her a little longer, blinking, before shaking his head, looking at her. “You...Let me get this straight, you want MY help.”

“Yes?” “...MY help.” “Yes.”

He was quiet for a bit longer before starting to snicker. Then laugh. And it evolved into a full-on cackle.

“...Eh...eheheheh...eheheheeheehee...heeheeheeHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” He then realized what he was doing and stopped, clearing his throat. His furious grimace had been replaced with a cocky grin.

“...Heh...I see. Strange. That’s pretty weird, huuuh? You’re really comin’ to me for help? And you even got Gwess and Miraschon in on it too, huh?” Gwess waved at him, not very happy about his presence.

“Yeah. I’ll bite. What do I have to do to make you join up with us?”

Lang Rangler gave a shit-eating grin and rubbed his chin, chuckling.

“Hahahaha...hmmm...well, I can think of a few things...but since I’m a nice guy, you only have to do one thing. Just one thing for me. Just one tiny, measly little thing…”

“What, already?”

“Let me punch you in the gut, as hard as I can! One time! Just one shouldn’t be too much, right?”

Jolyne blinked at him. “...(That’s it…? Miraschon’s bet was more risky than that…) Alright.” She put her body out, moving her arms out to her sides. “Hit me with your best shot.”

Lang Rangler cracked his knuckles, snickering.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a loooooong while~”

He took a deep breath before rearing his arm back and delivering the strongest uppercut into her gut and up into her ribs that he could muster.


Jolyne was brought up a little from the force of the punch, doubling over onto the floor and coughing up a fair amount of blood. “J-Jolyne!!” “Jolyne…!” Gwess and Emporio hurried over to make sure she was alright, Gwess bending down to her level.

“(KOFF, KOFF) Alright…(koff) punched willing to join us, now?”

“Hmmmm, lemme think…”

Lang Rangler thought.

“...Nope! Bye!” He turned around on his heel.

Just when he was about to leave, thinking he’d gotten what he came here for, [ Stone Free ] ’s fist came out of nowhere and hit him square on the back of the head, sending him head-first into the bookshelf. “GUAAAAGH! FUCK, HEY!”

Jolyne was staring at him, blood trickling from her mouth.

“...I wouldn’t advise you leave...especially with three stand users in the vicinity that could kick your ass easily. (Really, it’s just me and Gwess...but still.)”

Lang Rangler wiped away some of the blood from his nose and sighed. “F-Fine, fine! Fuck! I’ll join you, already...just let me go in time for me to take my Physics exam.”

Miraschon stuck out her tongue. “Pthbbt! Nerd!” “Can it, flat-chest!” “WHO YOU CALLIN’--”

Jolyne unsteadily stood back up.

“O-Okay, okay! Everyone be quiet! This next one might be the toughest...Miuccia Miuller! Miu Miu, the corrections captain, or the ‘head guard’!”

The group fell silent. Gwess scooted a little close to Jolyne, worried.

“...Jolyne...are you sure? She incapacitated you for two weeks last time...any wrong move, and you’ll be out of commission for that long, if not even longer!”

Miraschon stepped forward. “Yeah, are you outta your mind?”

Lang Rangler crossed his arms, looking away. “Tch. I wouldn’t mind seeing Mrs. Bitchy here getting beat up by the head guard…”

Jolyne looked around at the group. “Don’t worry. I have a good way to get her on our side. One of you just needs to get her in here. Who here has the highest social standing with the guards?”

Gwess put her hands behind her body. “...Uh, not me. I kinda have a history with...disappearing guards.”

Miraschon shrugged. “Not me. Last time I met a guard, I argued with him over whether Babe Ruth or Cy Young were the better baseball player. By the way, it’s totally Babe Ruth...if anyone, it’d be Langston over here. He’s the one that’s in the in-prison university program.”

Lang Rangler groaned, rolling his eyes as Jolyne nodded.

“Guess that means I’ll hafta fuckin’ go get her, right…?”

“Yeah. Good luck out there, Lang Rangler. Plus, if you don’t come back, I’ll go in and beat you to death. Alright?”

Lang just turned around towards the crack and flipped Jolyne off as he went through.

Miuccia Miuller was doing her makeup in her office vanity, looking herself over. Eyeshadow looks nice...blush looks nice...Everything looks nice~! She takes great pride in her appearance, you know. After all, it’s the first thing people see when they meet you! Miu Miu fluffed some of her long, ratty, bright blonde locks of hair, smiling at herself in the mirror. Ahh, she always looked so good in her pink guard outfit…but, today’s a ‘blend-in’ day. She’ll be going in her cute little miniskirts, her fishnets, and her precious brain sweater. Honestly, she likes this outfit more than her uniform...

It’s been a bit since that Jolyne girl took her hostage to escape the prison...what a bitch. Honestly...She couldn’t have even done it stealthily. It had to be a big thing...she knows at least a couple guards lost respect for her after that. And that was something she didn't like: losing people’s respect. Miu Miu stood up straight, looking over herself in the mirror, running her hands gently across her hourglass-shaped body. Hell yeah. All set.

...Then came a knock at the door. She jumped, putting a hand to her chest. Jesus, that startled her...She turned over to the door. “Ugh, who is it?!”

A young black guard with a goatee and afro opened up the door, looking at her.

“Officer Miu Miu...a prisoner wishes to speak with you.”

Miuccia tilted her head, frowning as she put on pink lipstick. “...Which prisoner?”

“He’s one of the smarter ones.” The guard pulled out a clipboard. “Langston Hudson ‘Lang’ Rangler, prisoner number MA13022, cell number 17-19434-M.”

“Hm...What’s so special about him? Why’d you even allow him to place a request?”

“He’s enrolled in the university program here...he’s majoring in astrophysics. He’s also been shown to have a level head and know how to deal with guards and problems. There’s very little chance of any conflict.”

She puckered and pouted her lips in the mirror before putting her lipstick down and looking back over to the guard.

“...” Sigh. “Alright, alright...go on then, send him in. It’ll be worth a laugh, at least~”

Lang Rangler entered the room. Miu Miu was leaning on the wall next to her vanity, looking at him. “Alright, MA13022...I’ll bite. What’s up? Do you want some extra study time with moi? Or, maybe you’d like extended visiting hours for your mother?”

Lang Rangler scratched his hair under his hat. “No and no. Actually, I’m here to pass on a message. A message from...Jolyne Cujoh.”

Miuccia’s head leaned forward, her mouth twisting into a smile.

“Ha! Really?! A ‘Jolyne Cujoh’?! What in the world could she want with me this time? Makeup tips?” He shrugged. “She said she needs your help with something. I don’t know. She specifically wanted to talk to you in person. I can go on and lead you over to her, if you want. She even said she can strike a deal with you.”

Miuccia crossed her arms, thinking. “...Hmmm…”

...Oh, why not? It’ll be fun! Seeing poor little FE40536 come crawling back to her for help…

“...Alright. Go on! Take me to her, MA13022. I’m interested to see how things will go.”

“My goodness, you’ve really accumulated quite the crew, haven’t you FE40536?”

Lang Rangler had successfully brought Miu Miu to the ghost room, and she had her hands on her hips, looking around.

“MA13022, FE26789, FE18081...and, curiously enough, a young boy that I seem to remember quite vividly...So! FE40536.” She strutted towards Jolyne, eye-level with her.

“What do you want from me? ...Well, on second thought, that’s a little foolish, isn’t it? You obviously want my help. Then...what are you willing to give me in exchange for my help?”

Jolyne stared at her before sighing.

“...If you help me...I’ll return to Green Dolphin Street Prison and serve out the rest of my sentence, adding on any additional offenses you can accuse me of.”

Miu Miu snickered. “Oh? How interesting...You’ll really serve out the rest of your sentence?”

“Yeah...we all will.” Gwess looked at Jolyne, shocked for a second, before nodding and accepting her fate. Miraschon crossed her arms at Jolyne, rolling her eyes. Lang Rangler took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, glaring at the two of them.

“...Well then.” Miuccia kissed her index finger, then lightly tapped Jolyne on the forehead. “I’d be glad to work with you for the time being~”

Jolyne sighed, putting her hand to her chest. “Thank god…”

The group had congregated, and were coming up with plans...Well, it was more like Jolyne was coming up with plans and everyone was either shooting them down or adding onto them. Their current plan went like this:

Miuccia Miuller would bring them up to the front and make the guards let them pass. It was simple, it was clean, and there was very little chance of it messing up...It was also certainly better than what they had originally, which was to recreate Miuccia’s hostage situation.

So, here they were. Emporio said he’d meet them later outside the prison, so he didn't come along.

However, Jolyne, Gwess, Miraschon, Lang Rangler, and Miu Miu approached the front gates.

The officer at the front saluted Miu Miu. “Hello there, Officer Miu Miu! Looking great today, as always!” “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Officer Hawkwind. Now, I’d like to tell you a few things…”

Stealthily, and without any of the rest of the group knowing...Miu Miu used [ Jailhouse Lock ] on the guard. He would only be able to remember three things at a time.

She cleared her throat.

“This group of prisoners is free to exit and roam the grounds. So, you can open up the front doors for them, now.”

He nodded. “You got it, Officer Miu Miu!” He turned around and clicked the button behind him, the front gates opening up as the group hurried out.

She stepped through, but turned around so she could talk to the guard. “That was very kind of you, Officer are allowed to close the gate, now.” “On it!”

The officer closed the gate.

...However, due to Jailhouse Lock ’s effect, the first memory had been pushed out of his head.

4. He is allowed to close the gate.

3. It was kind of him to open the gate for them.

2. He is allowed to open the gate for the group of prisoners.

1. The group of prisoners is free to exit and roam the grounds. (Pushed out)

Thus, as soon as he closed the gate, he looked out of it and saw a group of prisoners escaping. He wasn’t even able to spot Miu Miu in the crowd, only recognizing it as a group of prisoners. He yelled to a guard across the lobby.


The group walked leisurely away from the prison. Jolyne smiled at Miu Miu.

“Hey, thanks for that, Miu. You might not be as bad as I thought.” She just giggled.

Gwess watched from a distance and crossed her arms, jealous.

Then, all of a sudden, an announcement from the crunchy prison loudspeakers played.






Gwess looked over to Jolyne.

“Your middle name’s Dollie?! That’s so cute!”

“S-Shut the fuck up and RUN!”

The group started sprinting away from the prison as a group of armored guards came out from the gates carrying guns, running towards them.

Miuccia just giggled at her own cleverness for a second before joining the rest of the group in sprinting away.

Chapter Text

Funny Valentine sat in a train car, watching the trees go by.

Two of his aides sat at the same table as him, one keeping an eye on the door to the next train car and the other staring calmly out the opposite window. Next to him was his trusted bodyguard, Mike O.

Mike was standing up straight. Many people said he was an odd choice for a personal bodyguard: A black man? With face tattoos, no less? Funny Valentine didn't care for such surface-level issues. He hired him because he was trustworthy and strong. What more could you ask for?

The door that one of the aides had been keeping an eye on opened up suddenly, and he suddenly yelped, digging into one of his pockets and fumbling out a gun. Valentine glanced over to the door.


His previously thoughtful, solemn look dissolved into a smile.

His wife...ah, it was always a pleasure to see her. He waved at the bodyguard, signaling him to put the gun down. He got up, cracking his back.

“Ahh,’s so nice to see you. Have you been well? I hope the train staff have been treating you well.”

“Oh, they sure have been! Catering to me hand and foot! It’s good to see you too, my little Funny Bunny~” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, prompting a small chuckle. She grinned back, before biting her thumb and thinking.

“Oh, right! There was something else I came in to tell you…” She snapped her fingers. “Oop! I remember!” She dug into her shirt, pulling out a letter with a red wax seal on it. “One of the people on the train told me to give this to you. Says it’s urgent…”

He took the letter from her, taking off the wax seal and opening the envelope.

“Dear Mr. President Valentine,

This is Oyecomova. I’m in the hospital, right now. Doctor says I’ve got some serious skull fractures...I might have to wear a brace on my head for the next couple years. Nonetheless, I think it’s important you know something I found out.

Gyro know him, from the race. Horse named Valkyrie.

He obtained one of the corpse parts...I believe it’s one of the arms. This corpse...I’ve got no doubt it’s the one you were looking for.

I’d love to keep helping you, but the doctor also says that reading will only make my head hurt more. Send my regards to my family back in Naples.

Yours truly, Oyecomova”

Funny Valentine read it out in his head, taking in the message. He nodded and sighed, sitting back down in his seat. “I see…” He returned to looking out the window.

Scarlet was quiet for a second before gently tapping one of the aides on the shoulder. He got up so that Scarlet could have his seat.

“...What’s wrong, Funny? Anxious about the whole ‘corpse parts’ thing?” “...No, it isn’t that…”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me, you think that what I am doing is ‘right’?”

Scarlet tilted her head. “...What do you mean?”

“This whole race. The whole thing being nothing but a front in order to obtain the corpse parts...Recently, it feels like something has opened up, in my mind. Some kind of spark, that wasn’t there before.”

He closed his eyes for a second, taking a little time to start back up speaking again.

“ love. You’re aware of my stand, right? [ Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap ]?”

“Hm? Oh, lets you skip from parallel dimension to parallel dimension, right…?”

“Yes...but, in a sense, it does a little more than that.” He looked over to Mike O. “Excuse me, could you give me a pen and a scrap of paper?”

He produced the items without a word. “Thank you.” Funny took the cap off with his teeth.

“ you know about the ‘multiverse theory’? It’s a crackpot thing that only a few scientists are even entertaining right now…”

“...No, I actually don’t, Funny...What’s this got to do with anything, though?” “I’ll tell you.”

He drew a circle. “The ‘multiverse theory’ is the train of thought that, whatever choice a person makes, a new universe, or ‘dimension’, is born. Say, when you woke up this morning...what color panties did you put on?”

“Oh! So” “Red. So, say you picked white, instead. There would be an entirely different world where you picked a pair of white panties to wear today, and nothing else.”

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap lets me, in a sense, travel between these parallel dimensions. In these dimensions, due to these ‘small decisions’, there are many things that could be different. Just next door, I could have gone to the toilet earlier, or my aides could be sitting in different seats, or it would be raining…”

He drew a couple of circles around the first one, connecting them to the original circle.

“...The farther out you go, however, the more things change. You would be facing things like different names, different personalities, complete changes in the landscape...all due to these ‘small differences’ adding up.”

He drew more and more circles connect to the first layer of circles. The whole picture just appears to be a mess of circles.

“However. I’ve told you before...there can be only ‘one’ D4C at any given moment, right? Every Funny Valentine shares one, and it can be swapped off to any alternate-dimension Funny Valentine. I’ve also told you that there’s only ‘one’ holy corpse. In my travels, I haven’t found any replicas.”

“R-Right...I think I understand so far...but, Funny, what’s the point of any of this?”

“I’m getting to that. See, if the ‘multiverse theory’ is true...then anything that is possible will be in a new dimension. Statistics prove that eventually, all things that can happen, will. I believe it was 17th-century philosopher and mathematician Gottfried Liebniz that said ‘Everything that is possible demands to exist.’ Thus, eventually, in some far-off dimension..”

He marked an ‘X’ on a circle just on the edge of the paper.

“There could be another holy corpse. And the same principle proves that there could also be another Valentine. Another Valentine with D4C , travelling to their numerous immediately-neighboring dimensions. And if there’s one...then that opens up the entire can of worms. If there’s one Valentine with D4C, what proof is there that there aren’t more?”

He put the pen down.

“What I’m saying is that recently...I don’t know why, but I’ve had this aching feeling in my gut. I don’t know what it is...a moral panic, or maybe some kind of divine sign...but, I can’t help but feel that something is wrong.”

“There’s a Funny Valentine out there that won’t stop until he finds a new holy corpse. And if he finds one new holy corpse, what’s to say he won’t find thousands more? And even still, when I think about this...I can only think about what I would do if I were so persistent. If I were not so morally strong.”

He started to cross out circles. “I would systematically destroy and eliminate each world I came across, as much as I…”


“...By one…”


“...By one. If I couldn’t destroy it, I would just mess it up as much as I could out of frustration. It’s unfortunate, but I have no doubt that this is what’s happening. And he won’t stop…”

He crossed out the entire scrap of paper.

“...Until every single world has been destroyed or ruined beyond repair, save for the ones with the holy corpse.”

Scarlet hadn’t even realize she started sweating, and put her hand to her chest.

“...S-So...Funny...what are you saying?! W-What’s going to happen?! Are we going to be safe…?”

He looked out the window.

“That’s just what I’m worried about, Scarlet. But don’t worry. I’ve find a group that I think can beat him. They were scattered by his ‘influence’...but after gathering allies and searching for their signs of influence, they’re the ones most likely to systematically stop him once and for all. A rogue appearance like that is once in several billion...and the next one, if we live to see it, will be so far away that it won’t be an issue. This one is only such a problem because we’re so close to it.”

He stood up. “That’s why I’ve been gone for a couple days at a time, takes time to travel to their world, and even then I can’t stay long. I have to go from dimension to dimension to dimension, like getting out and getting back in at every station a train stops.”

Funny Valentine cupped Scarlet’s chin in his hands. “But please, don’t worry, Scarlet my love. I’ll be coming back to see the end of the race. For now, I need to speak with my ‘cabinet’ well as a Mr. Steel.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek and turned back towards the door, pushing it open.

“...I’ve been thinking...maybe America doesn’t need such a drastic method in order to be a global superpower over all others...but I’ve only been entertaining it. Nothing more.”

Chapter Text

Funny Valentine sat in a train car, watching the trees go by.

Two of his aides sat at the same table as him, one keeping an eye on the door to the next train car and the other staring calmly out the opposite window. Next to him was his trusted bodyguard, Mike O.

Mike was standing up straight. Many people said he was an odd choice for a personal bodyguard: A black man? With face tattoos, no less? Funny Valentine didn't care for such surface-level issues. He hired him because he was trustworthy and strong. What more could you ask for?

He sighed and looked towards the door to the other train car, cupping one of his hands around his mouth. “SCARLET! COME IN, IF YOU WOULD!”

Scarlet Valentine suddenly entered, a frown on her face. “What is it…? I was busy talking to some of the train staff!”

“You need not entertain yourself with such small things...Go get my workers from the other parts of the train. I’m already aware that Oyecomova has been damaged beyond repair, as well as Fritz. Don’t bother calling in D-I-S-C-O, or the eleven men...they won’t be of any use either. Call in Ringo, Axl RO, Wekapipo, Magenta Magenta, Dr. Ferdinand, and Pork Pie Hat. Blackmore, too.”

Scarlet crossed her arms and looked away, scowling. “Tch! I’m not your servant, Funny! Why can’t you ask one of your aides to call them in?” He got up and approached her, gently running his hand down the side of her face.

“It’s because you’re dear to me, Scarlet...I want to give you something to do other than stand around and look pretty.”

Scarlet slapped his hand away.

“Get your hands off of me! I swear, Funny, you’ve aren’t the kind-hearted, respectable man I married all those years ago. You’ve truly changed…You aren’t even cute and chubby anymore!”

He gripped the wrist of the hand she slapped with, staring her down.

“I didn't ask for your opinion of my worth as a husband, Scarlet. At any moment, I could kill you using D4C...I’m only surrounded by my allies. It would never get out to the would be covered up as an accident. You can see it, right? ‘First Lady Dead In Tragic Accident’...”

Tears started to well up in her eyes. Seeing this, Funny let her go, turning around.

“Call them in. Now. For the good of America.”

Scarlet clenched her fists, glaring at him before running away, sobbing.

Mike O. looked at Valentine.

“...Mr. don’t think that was being a little harsh? Your wife can only comprehend so much of her world…”

He glared at Mike. “The same threat I gave her goes for you, Mike.”

He stayed silent after that.

The door whipped open.

A rather stringy, less-than-gifted visually young boy stepped in, dressed in what appeared to be a home-made bamboo and string hat, and some kind of dark green camouflage outfit. He staggered around a little, large pupils darting around as he giggled.

“Heeyyy! Mr. Preshdent, sir! Valentyne! Valentyne Valentyne Valentyne! Whaddya want from me?!”

Funny Valentine put a hand to the side of his head. God, this young boy always gives him a headache when he speaks.

“...Pork Pie Hat...You will be sent on a special mission. Seeing as you’re only a young boy, I’ll be sending you to the time closest to ours...When you get there, I want you to kill. Kill as many people as you want, cause chaos…”

The young boy grinned widely, pumping his fists and dancing around in a little jig. “Gyeheheheheh!! Oh yeah!! Finally, some action!”

“It doesn’t matter what you do...apart from this! When you get there, there are people who are integral to that ‘world’ the same way a president or celebrity is integral to ours. I’ve written their names down here.”

Funny Valentine dug into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, handing it to the little boy. He sniffed it before reading it.

“...Whuh? What’s this even say? Jyawnashin...Jyoshter? Huh? Jyawshter? Isn’t that the last name of the guy I killed?”

“Yes. Please, read the rest on your own time. I’ll be with you tomorrow to send you on your way. Retire to...wherever you usually retire to.”

Pork Pie Hat Kid giggled and hurried out of the room.

The door was gently pushed open, a tired eye peeking through.

“Excuse me...may I come in?”

“Yes, Ringo. You may enter.”

Ringo Roadagain entered in. A man with a world-weary aura around him, and yet a steel manliness that couldn’t be matched. The skull goatee probably helped out, too.

“Ringo are one of my most reliable underlings. You will be going into the near future...tell me, what do you think life would be like in the 1920s?”

Ringo closed his eyes, thinking.

“...I couldn’t tell you. Humans are always changing, always faulty. The values of a real man will almost never match those of society…”

“I understand. You will be sent there to see things for yourself on a special mission. You and you alone will go. You may battle as many people as you can. Destroy everything you can…However.”

Funny Valentine pulled out a small card.

“...You must battle these people first. These ‘influencers’ are integral to that world’s balance. Once you have killed them, you may battle as many people as you wish. You may attempt to reach your ‘True Man’s World’ once again.”

Ringo took the card, reading it.

“...Joestar...Zeppeli...Costello? Hmm...I see. Thank you for the instructions, Mr. President.”

“You did well eliminating Gyro. I trust you will keep up the good work.”

“I thank you.”

He bowed politely to Funny Valentine before turning around and solemnly exiting.

The door was pushed open again.

Dr. Ferdinand entered, an effeminate man with blonde hair and heavy eyeshadow. He cocked his hand on his hip, smiling at him.

“Hello there, Mr. President...what can I do for you this time? Need more traitors eliminated with [ Scary Monsters ]?”

“...You could say that. Think of it that way, if you want...Dr. Ferdinand. You are indeed preoccupied with the concept of ‘respect’, correct?”

“Of course!” He struck a pose, lightly brushing his red leather glove against his face.

“Respect is prosperity! The only reason that any species dies out and graces the Earth with its fossils is that they don’t respect it! That is why we’re collecting the corpse parts, correct…?”

“Yes. you believe that, in the far-off future of...say, the 1980s...will humans have respected the Earth sufficiently? you think they’ll have died out?”

Dr. Ferdinand snickered, hands on his hips. “It’s impossible to say, really…”

“If they haven’t, and yet still continue to disrespect the Earth...I’m putting it in your hands to teach them a lesson. This special assignment will go to you and you only...I even have a list of the biggest offenders.”

Funny Valentine took out another card and handed it to Ferdinand. He looked it over.

“...Ooh, my. Some interesting names on this card...but they’ll all soon be wiped from the annals of history!”

“Don’t fail me, doctor.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. President. I won’t~”

He turned around and, with a small flourish in his hips, exited the train car.

The door was...knocked on.

“Excuu~uuse me...Mr. President…?”

“Yes, Blackmore. Come in.”

Blackmore entered in, wearing the raincoat he always wore with that sad, almost simple look on his face. He talked a little slow, and he tended to get excited easily, but he could be almost always counted on.

“You said you wanted me, right…? I’m soo~oorry for asking, but...what was it you wanted?”

“Tell me, Blackmore...when you think of the future, what do you imagine?”

“...Umm…” He thought for a second, scratching his hairless chin.

“...I’ve heard that, are on the rise...maybe that’ll be common? I’m soo~oorry, but I don’t really have much of a clue…”

“That’s understandable...the future is a scary thing to think about. I want you to go there...promise me that you will do what I tell you there. Okay?”


“When you go to that future...please, kill anyone you see. Steal and rob. Wreak havoc. It won’t be in our country...don’t worry. But, before you do that...I ask you to eliminate a few specific people. I trust you can take care of it.”

Funny Valentine dug into his pocket and pulled out another card, handing it to Blackmore.

“...I’m soo~oorry, Mr. President, but this is a lot of’s at least you really think I’m capable of this…?”

Funny Valentine approached him and pressed his forehead to Blackmore’s.

“Blackmore...I know you are capable of this. You are capable of a lot more than you think. Now go, retire to your quarters...I’ll send you there tomorrow. Please, pack as much as you need.”


Blackmore turned around, stopping short of the door and looking over his shoulder at Valentine before exiting.

The door opened up normally, but this time two people entered.

Wekapipo and Magenta Magenta walked in, Wekapipo standing up straight with a serious look on his face. Magenta Magenta was sniffling, his nose constantly running as he put a hand on his hip.

“You called for us?” “Yeah, yeah...whaddya want, Mr. President, sir?”

Funny covered one of his eyes, frowning. God, that Magenta’s voice was painful to listen to…

“Yes, well...I’m here asking the two of you of a favor. Are you aware of the situation in Italy, currently?”

“...” Wekapipo nodded silently. Magenta Magenta shrugged. “I don’t fuckin’ know...maybe there’s some kinda royal conflict goin’ on over there or something? Why, what’s it to ya?”

“...I’ll be sending you to Italy, in the far future. You’ll be seeing how things turn out...but even then, what I ask of you is an immense favor. You need to kill these people.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a card, giving it to Wekapipo. Magenta stared at Valentine, expecting to get a card too, but sniffled after nothing ever came of it. “(How come I don’t get a fuckin’ card…?)”

Wekapipo looked over the card.

“...I understand. However…” “Hm?” “...Some of the other people you have met with were apparently told to cause chaos and kill as many people as they could...why did you not tell that to us?”

Funny Valentine couldn’t tell them the real reason...that being lack of faith in them. Specifically Magenta, he lied.

“I know it would be tough for you to ruin your homeland like that, Wekapipo...but rest assured, if it does not measure up to what you want it to be, you and Magenta Magenta have full right to wreak havoc.”

“...” He nodded. “Thank you.” “Yeah, thanks. (Or whatever…)”

Wekapipo bowed at him and turned around, walking out the door with Magenta Magenta following soon after.

The door was slowly opened up.

Axl RO walked in. A tired, weary ex-soldier with a face tattoo in the shape of a sleeping mask. He had come in carrying a bottle of whiskey, taking a drink before speaking.

“Gguh...yes, Mr. President…? You wanted to see me, right…?”

“That’s right. are tormented by your sins, right?”

“Of course...why d’you think I turned to the bottle? What’s that got to do with things?”

“I’m giving you a chance to let other people experience the weight of their sins...and to lash out at the world that made you the victim. It’s far into the future, so you may experience some shock...but there’s one person I need you to kill. Undoubtedly.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a photo, handing it to Axl RO.

“Her name is Jolyne Cujoh. She’s an ex-convict...she’ll be full of sins for you to take advantage of. This is your target...Kill Jolyne Cujoh.”

“...Hmph. I understand...Mr. President. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. For now, return to your cabin. I’ll notify you when it’s time to leave.”


Axl turned around and went for the door, but stopped and turned back around.

“...Y’know, Mr. President. I saw someone out there, before coming in here. It was the first lady...Scarlet, right? I ‘member seeing her in the newspapers. She ain’t too bad-looking...but she was crying. That Steel guy was comforting her...What happened? Was it somethin’ personal? Was she on”

Funny Valentine glared at him.

“My personal affairs are none of your concern, Axl. Retire to your cabin. Now.”

“Oop, okay, fine, jeez…”

Axl exited through the door.

Funny Valentine sighed and sat back down at his seat next to the window, pinching the bridge of his nose.

God, what an annoyance...that woman’s become more trouble than she’s worth.

He looked back out the window, picking up a newspaper that had been on the table. He looked over the headline again. He never got tired of reading it...

"[ SHOCK AT THE STEEL BALL RUN RACE! TWO RACERS FOUND DEAD UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES ]" then. He’ll have to have a little ‘talk’ with Mr. Steel over what Scarlet told him.

...After he finishes watching the view from out the window.

Chapter Text

Finally, after a long, long period of talking that Jotaro had honestly tired of before it even started, Zeppeli wrapped up his exposition on his history with hamon. He sighed and looked up to him, still holding onto Jonathan’s leg.

“...Yare yare, couldn’t you have shortened it to a few sentences or--”

His snide remark was interrupted by a heavy thump upon the top of their leaf glider created with the miraculous Life Magnetism Overdrive technique.

Speedwagon gulped, letting out a small, nervous chuckle.

“This sound...heh, i-is it also the sound of the ripple?” Jonathan noticed. “...No…!!”

As if on cue, Tarkus appeared above them, his face covered in shadow but with an evil, malicious grin clearly visible.


Tarkus thrust forward his thick, rough hand through the leaves, swiping away a good chunk of the middle. The leaves harmlessly fluttered past him, no longer held together by hamon.

Zeppeli grit his teeth. “He’s crazy! Throwing his body over the edge from this height!”

“Let’s jump to the building, or else we’ll hit the ground…!!”

The leaves all dissipated at once, everyone launching themselves forward with as much force as they could.

Everyone appeared to make it safely, Poco still having clung onto Jonathan’s back. Jotaro landed on the stone, stumbling a little, but catching himself. He looked around.

“What the hell is this place, again…? Wind Knight’s Lot or something? I remember one of you guys mentioning this…”

“M-MISTER JOTARO! LOOK!” Speedwagon yelled out and grabbed him on the shoulder, turning him around towards the cliff.

Tarkus was nowhere to be seen.

However, that could likely be attributed to his being embedded into a stone wall. Yes, due to his weight, Tarkus had fallen faster than them and slammed himself into the brick wall of the training fortress.

Speedwagon watched, ecstatic. “So, Tarkus hit that stone wall...he may be a zombie, but his body must have been ripped apart! Unlike Dio, who wore the mask, he doesn’t have the ability to heal himself! So, he shouldn’t be able to move!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Speedwagon-san. Look.” He gruffly pointed down.

Tarkus had excavated himself out of the wall, bloodied and bruised yet still moving, and was currently digging his coarse fingers into the wall, pulling his haggard body up the sheer surface.

Zeppeli gasped. “What a man! It’s almost like he is animated only by his bloodlust! His bones should have been shattered into dust! Dio is our main goal, but if he keeps chasing us like this, we have no choice...We’ll have to take care of Tarkus here!”

He looked over to Jonathan. “Jojo! Hide Poco within this building!”

Jonathan nodded to him and took the handle into his hand, pulling it open.

When he was opening it, however, he felt something...strange. Almost like a click of a lever. “What’s with this door? Feels strange…”

Poco clenched his fists, worried. “Be careful! These are the ruins of the training grounds where warriors were trained to kill! They say there are thousands of traps!”

Speedwagon, using his eagle eyes, noticed a chain coming down.


However, he was too late. All at once, a metal collar and matching steel shoulder pads were locked onto his person.

“JOJO!” The door immediately closed itself shut, Speedwagon, Zeppeli, and Poco banging on it furiously trying to open it up. Jotaro cracked his neck and took a couple jabs at it with [ Star Platinum ] , but all it achieved was making the door reverberate with a horrid metal noise.

“No good...not even Star Platinum can get through. Solid steel.”

On the side of the cliff, Tarkus had noticed a small gap he could squeeze through to get into the arena.

Jonathan was pulled up, clawing at his metal collar as his legs were hoisted up and off the ground. “T-This is…!!”

Tarkus had entered by then, and upon his face, he wore a terrifying smirk. He reached up and put the collar and pads on himself.

“Aaaaahhhh...This brings back memories...a chain deathmatch in the room of the Dragon Decapitation…”

He clicked the collar shut.

“I guess I’ll take another shot at it...for the first time in 300 years...hehehe…”

Outside, Zeppeli was repeatedly slamming his fist into the door, infusing it with as much hamon as he could, yelling.

“KUH! GRAH! YAH! HUGH!” Eventually Jotaro and Speedwagon had to restrain him, as he had been punching so hard and so frequently that he had broken the skin on his knuckles and was bleeding profusely.

“M-Mister Zeppeli, please calm down! It’s too thick!” “Can it, already! It’s no use trying to break the damn thing down.” Poco just watched, worried about him.

Zeppeli eventually calmed down and sighed. “Haahh...haahh...u-unfortunately, the ‘ripple’ I mastered isn’t used for’s because it releases energy that’s the same type as the sun, the weakness to vampires! It’s only effective against life-forms. I can break a tile, but not this door...Thus, like me, Jojo won’t be able to break that chain!”

Speedwagon tousled his hair, frowning. “By the gods...then, what can we do?! Are we just to stand around and watch Mister Joestar get destroyed?!”

Zeppeli sighed and crossed his arms. “That may be it...but for now, look for a way to open these doors so that we may help him.” He looked around to the others. “All of you! Look!”

Jotaro just groaned and started looking around the cliffside, brushing away a few pebbles disinterestedly. Man, he wants to go home. He wishes he could have spent more time with Jolyne instead of ending up...god-knows-where, god-knows-why, god-knows-when.

After a little bit more digging around, Speedwagon peered in through the barred window in the door and noticed something.

...A lever! But...urrrghhh, he just can’t reach it!

“Mister Zeppeli! There’s a lever here! That lever! It looks like you can only open it from the inside!”

There was no reply.

“...M-Mister Zeppeli? Did you hear me?” Speedwagon looked back around and looked around the area.

It was just Mr. Kujo and Poco.

“Hey...Where did Mister Zeppeli go?!” Jotaro and Poco looked up. “What?” “Huh?”

“He...He just up and disappeared! Did he go looking for an out-of-the-way entrance without us? Or, no...he would have told us beforehand, wouldn’t he have?!”

Jotaro grabbed the brim of his hat, walking up to him.

“I’m sure that wherever he is, he can handle any troubles on his own. He seems like a pretty strong guy.”

“...You’re right, Mr. Jotaro. Then, as I was saying about the only looks like you can pull it from the inside, but I can’t find a way in…Or, at least, not an accessible one! It’ll take too much time to slip in the way Tarkus did, and those holes up there are too small for anyone other than a cat or a kid to get into!” He pointed up to a couple thin holes in the brick wall where cool air wafted through. Presumably, they were for ventilation or natural sunlight while training.

“...Wait...that’s it! A kid! Poco! Poco, I need you to--”

“Don’t bother.” Speedwagon was stopped by Jotaro, who was now facing the other way.

“He’s gone too.” The thug looked around, confused. “What…?! Where has he gone?! I need him!”

“I know this probably won’t make any sense to you...but I’ve dealt with this kind of situation before. This is…a stand attack.”


“Like I said. It won’t make any sense to you. Just keep an eye out, especially up above you.”

He moved his hand up to pull his hat off and fan himself with it. It was a rather humid English night, after all…

...But his hat was gone. He ended up just patting his hair, frowning.

“...What the hell...?! My hat…”

Speedwagon just put his hands on his hips, looking on Jotaro confusedly.

“(Stands…? Preposterous...what could this man be talking about? I’ve had my doubts about him from the start, from his strange clothing, to his Oriental accent, to his talk of ‘stands’ instead of ‘hamon’...and yet, I can’t help but have the feeling that he’s a force for good! He’s invariably on the side of ‘justice’! I can trust this man…) Okay! Mr. Jotaro! I’ll be sure to follow your instructions, seeing as you know much more about this subject than me!”

Jotaro turned around to glare at him before sighing.

“...Yare yare daze…Just keep your eyes peeled, Speedwagon.”

Off on a nearby mountaintop, a small, ugly little boy was hovering around a small dish of water, mouth hanging open.

Out of his mouth came two metal hooks connected to wires, attached to a reel at the back of his throat. He eagerly stared over into a pan of water, watching for movement within it.

The pan of water showed the area: The courtlike, closed-roof arena that Jonathan and Tarkus were fighting in, as well as the adjacent cliffside. Standing around, back-to-back and watching the area, were Jotaro and Speedwagon.

“Gyegoogehahahoohoo...It looks like those two guys Valentyne told me to kill are still hanging around here!! What were their names, again…? Uuuhhh…” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper.

On the piece of paper were three photographs. Under them, were the names “Jonathan Joestar”, “Robert E. O. Speedwagon”, and “Jotaro Kujo” .

“Jooo...Jotayro...Khoo...juh...Jotayro Koojuh! Koojuh koojuh koojuh, heheheh! And that speeeed wagon guy! That Jotayro guy has such a cool hat...heheh, I think I’ll take it for myself!!”

“Urrgkhh…!! L-Let me go, you…!!”

Pork Pie Hat kid whipped around, glaring at the person who had complained.

It was Baron Zeppeli, stuck with a metallic wire wrapped around his neck, the harsh metal digging into the skin as he held onto the part connected to a nearby rock face to prevent himself from being hanged.

“Shhuuhsshh!! Shut up!!! Shaddup shaddup shaddup Mr. Italian Guy!! I’m busy!!”

Next to Zeppeli was Poco, keeping himself in a same position, but with a noticeable dark stain around his pants. He’s already wet himself from sheer fear, silent with shock.

Zeppeli just bit his lip and winced at the wire digging a little further into his neck.

“Urrkkghh…(I-I can’t hold out much longer...this is unbelievable! How does this child have so much power?! ...Actually...Now I remember! Mr. Jotaro called his strange power a ‘stand’, so...could this be…?!)”

Pork Pie Hat kid cocked his head back, the hook and wire whipping itself back up out of the pool, Jotaro’s hat hooked deeply through it.


He brought it back down and quickly ripped it off the hook, looking it over like an animal would to something unfamiliar. He sniffed it, licked the fabric, and of course, put it on his head over his makeshift bamboo hat.

“Aw yeeaaaahh!! I look kickass!!” He jerked around a little, laughing and making strange noises in what appeared to be a little, uncomfortable jig.

He danced around a little more before stopping and putting his hand to his cheek.

“Ah--!! Oh, yeah! Valentyne’s orders! I’ll save the celebrashuns n’ stuff for later…”

He bent down back over the pan of water.

“...After I tear these guys’ throats out!”

Chapter Text

After a considerably long period of driving, Messina, Lisa Lisa, Caesar, Joseph (who had fallen asleep), and of course Ermes arrived at St. Moritz, Switzerland.

It had the natural Swiss climate: Cold, dry, and covered in snow. Ermes was stuck shuddering, being stuck in a sleeveless turtleneck-jacket thing and jeans.

“...J-J-Jesus fuckin’ Christ, it’s cold as hell out here! Back in Florida, I never had to deal with this amount of freezing air…(Fuck…)”

Messina took notice and cleared his throat. Impressively, he was garbed in nothing but his trademark hat, an open-chested sleeveless jacket, and long pants with shoes.

“Excuse me, miss...Costello, as it were? Do you need my jacket?” He tugged on a piece of it.

“...H-Huh? Oh, n-no, that’s fine…(I-I’ll just freeze my ass off in peace…)” It took her a couple of seconds before she actually noticed how little clothing he was wearing.

“ the hell aren’t you shivering ‘n shit? You’re dressed like it’s the middle of summer!”

Messina’s face turned to a proud smile as he crossed his arms. “One of the things Master Lisa Lisa teaches her disciples is using hamon and hamon breathing to control your body temperature. By keeping up my breathing and circulating the ripple throughout my body, I’m able to stay warm!”

Ermes boggled at him. “...No shit, huh...Maybe I should learn some of that ‘hamon’ shit too…”

Messina just laughed, looking to Joseph. He was sitting shotgun, cheek resting on his fist as he snored, lost in the wonderland of slumber.

“...Hey. Jojo.”

No response. Caesar looked over to him and cleared his throat.


Nothing. They looked at each other for a second.

“HEY, JOJO! WAKE UP!” Caesar and Messina suddenly both shouted and elbowed Joseph solidly in both the shoulder (from Caesar) and the top of his head (Messina_.

That undoubtedly woke him up, his eyes shooting open with a couple pained grunts.

Lisa Lisa cleared her throat.

“Jojo! We have caught up with the train bound for St. Moritz!”

“Hm? Wha…?”

Messina craned his neck to look over at the train on the railroad parallel to the road they were on.

“Looks like they’re busy with paperwork...Actually, it looks like they’re already done.”

Lisa Lisa exhaled. “St. Moritz, the destination of the parcel containing the stone, is less than an hour away from this border. We were lucky to catch up here.”

Ermes blinked a little and looked around. “Wait, so you’re saying these are the Alps?! Shit, I didn't even notice! I’ve always thought about coming here as a kid…Never thought I’d actually make it!”

“It’s certainly nice, Ermes, but we have a mission to fulfill.” Ermes looked over at Lisa Lisa and frowned a little. “(So serious…)”


That certainly got Joseph’s attention. He looked back over behind him for a second, then looked back at Caesar.

“Uh, for the record, I’m saving my strength...Let’s hurry it up and break into the train so we can get the stone, then figure out a plan for the fight against Wamuu in six days.”

Caesar looked annoyedly at him. “At least wait for it to cross the border!”

From behind them, a car’s horn honked annoyingly.

God, over and over again...Ermes snickered a little at how dumb the car horn sounded, but was still pretty irritated by it. “Who the hell…?”
Joseph looked back at them again and sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening up the door, stepping out.


But he was quickly shut up by who he saw in the car.

German officers.

Nazi officers.

Everyone looked back at the car and saw the same three officers as everyone else.

“Th...The Nazis?!”

Ermes was especially shocked, staring with her mouth agape.


She stared a little more before closing her mouth and snapping her fingers. “Oh, fuck, yeah, right, we’re in the 1930s...I should’ve expected it, but…(Jeez, actual, historical Nazis...that’s fucked up.)”

Caesar just watched the officers, terrified. “(W-What’s Germany doing at the border of Switzerland and Italy…?!)”

The officer seated in the middle of the passengers’ row, his face in shadow, started to laugh.

“Heheheh...heh heh heh heh heh…”

He looked up, revealing a chiseled, menacing, confident smile.

“You look like you’re in shape...Obviously you’ve made some progress, Joestar!”

“Eh?” Joseph had no clue who this guy was, and everyone else was similarly confused.

Ermes was, as is standard, even more confused than everyone else.

“(W-Wait, does Jolyne’s great-grandfather or whatever have a...weird history with the Nazis? I mean, I knew he was kind of a weirdo from her stories, but…)”

“W-What?” Joseph tilted his head. “W-What did you just say?”

He and the other officers just chuckled, passing by them and driving away. Joseph thrust his hand out.


Messina gulped, pointing to the train. “Urk...L-Look at the train…!!”

Nazi officers were swarming the cargo hold, some carrying guns and some digging around inside.

“Nazi troops are already here, too!!”

A single officer came out, with high cheekbones and blonde hair, waving around a small, white package.

“Ve’ve found it, Colonel!” On the package was Lisa Lisa’s postage stamp.

“Ah--!!” She immediately recognized it as the package containing the Red Stone of Aja.

“That badge...t-that parcel…” Caesar finished her sentence for her. “The Red Stone of Aja!”

“W-Why would the Nazis want…?”

The officer that had recognized Joseph was out of the car, sitting on the hood and chuckling further as he received the stone.

“Ve’re requisitioning zat stone as a test subject! Ve’ve been vatching you for three veeks, even in Venice. Ever since our troops were wiped out in Rom , ve’ve known about your ripple training, about Esidisi, and about vhat happened at ze post office.”

He turned to Joseph.

“Do you remember zat man, Joestar? Yesterday, in Venice, zere vas zat little thug who tried to steal ze stone. You stopped him und covered him in mustard. He vas vone of my men in disguise.”

He turned aside and pointed his thumb over behind him.

“Ve’re staying at ze inn down ze road. I have qvestions to ask about ze Red Stone, Kars, und his companions. I am offering cooperation… und’re not exactly strangers to each other, Jojo…”

And with that, he turned around to leave in the direction he pointed.

Joseph grit his teeth and pointed angrily at him.

“HEY, WHAT’S ALL THIS BULLSHIT ABOUT?! It isn’t like we were RAISED together!”

Messina groaned. “Now the Nazis are joining the fun!”

Caesar looked to Lisa Lisa, unsure of what to do next. “M...Master Lisa Lisa…”

Lisa Lisa just sighed. “We have no choice but to go along with this. It’s better than Kars getting his hands on the stone.”

Ermes gulped. “Urk...we’re really working with Nazis, huh…? Never thought my life would come to this…”

She sighed and looked out the window. Man, she misses Jolyne...and Emporio...and Weather Report...and...and...what was his name? Pink hair dude. Yeah, she even misses ol’ Pinky…


Over in the snow, Ermes spotted something.

It appeared to be a person, covered in a heavy beige parka, decorated in numerous clock motifs. The hood, garnished with a bright yellow fur, shadowed the person’s face. Below the parka was a tight-fitting pair of simple leather pants that, despite their thinness, appeared to be padded with an insulator. Beneath that were boots with spokes on the end and “R” initials embroidered onto the sides.

Ermes noticed them and squinted, putting her hand over her eyes. “Whoa, shit, who’s this guy…?”

A Nazi officer from the other side of the road with a small mustache and an eyepatch over his left eye noticed and hurried over, machine gun in hand.

“Hey! HEEEY!! Zis is a restricted area! Ve can’t just be letting anyvone pass by! I need an ID card und some registration!”

The person just stopped a couple feet away from the officer, silent.

The officer grit his teeth. “Smartass, huh…?” He raised up his gun.

The person looked up, their face still covered in shadows as they a serious, dry man’s voice.

“...Are you inquiring about a duel between the two of us…?”


The person took off their hood.

It was a tired-looking, pale-skinned man with silver hair that he had in a neatly combed, medium-length hairstyle. On his face were two strips of mustache, three small pockets of silver hair on his chin, and underneath his bottom lip, yet more silver hair shaved into the shape of a skull, complete with eye socket holes.

“...Then...I suggest we humbly begin. However…”

He pointed to the officer’s gun.

“I have never seen that kind of gun before. It must be a model that was not made yet in my time. I, however, only have my simple revolver that I’ve had since I was a child.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the aforementioned simple revolver.

The officer gasped. “A WEAPON! I CALL SELF-DEFENSE!”

From the opposite side of the road, another officer yelled over to him.

“Officer Asia! Vhat ze hell do you zink you’re doing?! Get back over here and guard the parcel!”

Officer Asia whipped around and shouted at him. “SHUT UP! ZIS PIG’S MINE!”


Ermes watched this, squinting. “(...The hell is happening…?) H-Hey, are you guys--” She looked back over to the other people in the group.

They were too occupied with watching the Nazis handle the Red Stone and talking amongst themselves to notice. “(Tch...Figures.)”

The man frowned. “I am simply saying that this would make this duel unfair, seeing as I have no knowledge of your weapon...I have a spare version of my revolver, if you would like it…”

He started to reach into his pocket, but didn't get that far.


The officer opened fire on the man, and they almost hit him, but before that...something happened.

The man moved his hand over to his sleeve and pulled it down, revealing a small, antique-looking watch on his wrist.

Quicker than Ermes could manage to make out, he turned the second hand back somewhat.

And just like that, the bullets went back into the machine gun.

The man pointed his weapon at the officer and fired three times, while the officer repeated his war cry and shot yet again.


A couple shots grazed the man’s arm, wounding him, but the three shots he fired hit the officer spot-on in the chest, neck, and cheek.

The officer gurgled blood pathetically for a few minutes before limply falling to the snow.

The man lowered his gun shakily for a few seconds before doubling over and panting, seemingly out of breath from the anxiety of such an encounter and the multiple wounds he had just gotten in his arm.

He put the gun back in his pocket and stood up straight, bowing down to the corpse of the man.


“My name is Ringo Roadagain...and I thank you for the duel.”

Ermes watched all this and was sufficiently stunned. “What the fuck?! Wh...he just...t-that guy, he…!! (It looked like he turned back time! happened so fast, I dunno if it even happened at all! And...when he moved his hand over to his wrist, I saw…I saw…)”

True to what she had been thinking, when he moved his hand to his wrist, Ermes saw something.

If only for that brief, fleeting moment, she saw something.

A stand.

A stand, latched onto Ringo’s back and staring on with dead, fabric-button eyes towards the officer.

She rubbed her eyes a little more and looked over to the rest of the group.

“H-Hey, didn't any of you guys see that?! That guy just killed an officer, and he looked like he reversed time, and--”

“What the hell are you talking about, Elmo?!”

Joseph slung an arm over his seat and looked back at her.

“We’re talking about Nazis and the Red Stone and Pillar Men, and you’re over here off in dreamland thinking about time machines?! C’mon, even I know when to square up!”

“I wasn’t fucking dreaming, you dumbass!! I’m tellin’ the truth! And my name’s ERMES! E-R-M-E-S! See, look, he’s right over--”

She pointed over to where Ringo was standing.

He was gone. The only evidence he even was there were the footprints he left and the corpse of Officer Asia being attended to by the medics.

She kept pointing, mouth open, yet was quiet. “--there…”

“Whatever, Herpes. Just don’t go turning back time on the drive to the inn down the road.”

Caesar, Lisa Lisa, and Messina just shot her confused looks (somewhat annoyedly, in Caesar’s case) as they started the car back up and drove away.

Ermes looked out the window, crossing her arms.

What was a stand user doing all the way back here…? Wait, actually, what is she thinking? Stands have been around since long before 2011, duh. The question was…

...How did he find her? After all, she remembers Jolyne or Emporio or whoever telling her at one point or another that…

…’Stand users attract other stand users’. They’re bound by the red string of fate.

She can’t help but wonder if his fate will become intertwined with hers…

...Hopefully not.

Ringo dug himself out of the snow, shuddering, and brushed some of it off.

He looked on down the road, watching the comparatively modern car billow smoke out of the tailpipe with a sort of detached disgust.

“...Perhaps Valentine was right...and perhaps I, as well. The nature of modern society does not line up with those of the ‘True Man’s World’...And thus, I shall work to ‘fix’ this world as best I can.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at his watch.

“But first…”

He looked back down the road.

“...I need to take care of those people. Lisa Lisa...Caesar Zeppeli...Joseph Joestar...Messina Vahevala…”

Ringo walked down the lonely road, putting his hands back in his pockets and listening to nothing but his feet crunching through the snow and the chatter of Nazi officers.

“...and Ermes Costello.”

Chapter Text

Foo Fighters, Avdol, and Iggy had been very carefully transporting Joseph around the desert outside of Luxor, scouting for the enemy.

“Everyone, keep your eyes peeled for suspicious characters! Stand users, especially one of DIO’s henchmen, are exceptional at blending into society!”

Joseph had made the announcement, causing the others to look over at him.

“That’s easy for you to say, Joe! You aren’t the one that has to look! You’ve just gotta be careful of metal objects!”

“H-Hey!! I’m just as useful as anyone else in this endeavor! ...And don’t call me Joe! It’s ‘Jojo’ or ‘Joseph’!”

“Whatever, Joe…”

“M-Mr. Joestar, look!” Avdol perked his head up and pointed over to a structure off in the distance. It looked like an old, historical building made out of metal that they were doing construction on.

“It must be a structure from the outskirts of Luxor. They’re doing construction on it…”

Iggy, from Foo Fighters’ shoulder, barked.

“Yeah, I agree, doggy! Then we shouldn’t be going near it at all! Construction sites are full of metal shit, like nails, and girders, and tools and stuff!”

Joseph sighed. This is so embarrassing...How could the great Joseph Joestar be reduced to being guarded by one of his friends, a girl he had essentially just met, and a belligerent dog?!

Avdol sighed. “The desert is empty...there’s very little area to hide. We may have to enter nonetheless.” He looked over to Foo Fighters.

Something’s flying at her!


Instinctively, F.F. formed a gun out of her hand and ducked, shooting at whatever was flying towards her. The impact of the plankton made the object fall to the ground, although it still sluggishly rumbled towards Joseph’s shoe.

She bent down. “It looks like...a nut! Like, the thing you use to tighten bolts! But where’d it come from?!”

Foo Fighters looked up and spotted Mariah, right across from her and right near the construction site.

Mariah simply dug another nut out of her chest and flicked it at the group, the nut heading straight for Joseph.

“I GOT IT!” Avdol reached out his hand, and the nut quickly embedded itself in his palm, along with a splash of blood. He winced and pulled his hand back, pulling out the nut and tossing it to the sand.

“Aauughh...d-damn it...Mr. Joestar, your magnetism is getting stronger by the second. We need to go after her!”

Mariah blew a kiss to the group, giggled, and turned off towards the construction site, walking along like she was in no rush at all.

Foo Fighters looked back up and to the construction site. “She went in there...Joseph, you can’t go in there, or you’ll be killed! Avdol, stay here with him and protect him from whatever metal may come his way! Me and the dog will go into the site!”

Iggy barked annoyedly at her. Who’s this bitch calling ‘the dog’? He HAS a name.

“Ms. Fighters, are you sure? Iggy can be, temperamental at times…”

“Nah, don’t worry! I know how animals work! I should: I’m plankton! C’mon, Iggy!”

Iggy just growled at her as she kept her hand as a pistol, sprinting off towards the construction site.

Avdol nodded at her and looked to Joseph. “Don’t worry, Mr. Joestar! I’ll make sure nothing will come your way!”

Joseph snickered and put his hand on Avdol. “You’re a good friend, Avdol! I’m sure Ms. Fighters will do great work in there. She’s already proven herself to me, but maybe this’ll teach Jotaro she isn’t someone to be messed with!”

Foo Fighters ran along into the construction site, Iggy on her shoulder, and looked around. “Jeez, what the hell...? There’s so many people here!”

True to her word, the place was crawling with people. Workers, planners, bystanders...everyone you could think of. An important building must be being created here, she figures.

“W-WOAH!” A man walking by holding a girder almost hit her square in the head when he turned. “HEY, WATCH WHERE YER GOIN’, MISSY!” “J-Jeez, it isn’t my fault!”

She stuck her tongue out at him and looked around. She approached a wiry-looking man in sunglasses. “Excuse me, have you seen a girl around here? Dark skin, sunglasses, good legs?”

The man put up his glasses. “I remember seein’ her. She went in there.”

He pointed right into the heart of the construction site.

“Oooohh boy...Alright, Iggy. Let’s do this!” Iggy barked, still angry he had to be dragged into this.

Foo Fighters ran further into the construction area, looking around for Mariah.

“C’mon, where is she, where is she…?!” She squinted her eyes in the sun, before spotting her.

“Ah--!” Mariah was there, standing in the construction elevator and smirking. She put her hand on her hip and waved to Foo Fighters, giggling.

“Heheheh...Come and get me~”

The doors closed, and the elevator went up just as Foo Fighters skidded to a stop in front of it.

“Dammit! That was her! Gotta get u-- EEYYYYYOWWWW!!”  

She had gone to press the ‘up’ button, but she was instead terribly shocked, sending her flying back into a pile of bags of wet concrete.

Iggy managed to hang onto her...that is, by hanging his forepaws on her head so he was covering up her face.

“...G-Get offa me!”

He snickered and farted before hopping off. Foo Fighters coughed, waving the foul smell away before getting back up and looking back over to the elevator.

Right under the ‘up’ button was an outlet.

She must have brushed against it when she was going to press the ‘up’ button!

“Urghh...s-shit...that hurt like hell…!! How’d I not see that outlet thing?! ...Wait...outlet…?”

It took a little for F.F. to fully understand what had happened.

Over back behind her, a man in a mustache was hammering in a nail into a board of wood. He had his headphones on, and was softly singing to himself.

“The retuuuurn oooof the Thin White Duke, throwing daaarts in lover’s eyeees…”

He was happily banging along, before he suddenly winced.

“OoOOWW!! W-What the hell?! Where’d my hammer go?!” He had just hit the nail with his bare knuckles.

The hammer in question, of course, was heading straight for the back of Foo Fighters’ head.

She would have no doubt had her brains smashed in had Iggy not been there.

Barking, he used [ The Fool ] to pull up a barrier of sand that the hammer hit hard and slid down, knocking some sand onto the back of Foo Fighters’ head.

She took notice and turned around, but by that time, the sand had already gone down.

She got up and brushed herself off. “Alright, enough screwing around, Iggy! Let’s hurry up and find this lady!” “Bark!”

“Looking for me~?”

The two of them looked up.

Mariah was sitting, happy as she could be, on the end of a girder above them, crossing her legs and smiling down at them.

“Honestly, it’s fun seeing you idiots squirm around like little worms. It makes for great entertainment~”

Foo Fighters transformed her hand into a gun and fired three shots up at Mariah, stone-faced.

Mariah, thinking quickly, leaned back, eyes wide. The plankton shots just barely missed her face (though they were closer to hitting her chest than anything else).

She looked back down at her, grimacing. “Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing, shooting in a construction site?! You could kill someone!”

Foo Fighters snickered. “That’s exactly what I’m aiming to do!”

The bullets she fired instead hit the rope holding the girder she was sitting on, cutting it away to only a few threads.

Mariah looked over at said rope. “T-The rope…!! Shit!!” She got up and scrambled over to the main scaffolding, jumping and grabbing onto it before the girder fell to the ground with a solid ‘THUNK’.

Mariah looked out from the scaffolding, down at the girl and the dog, and grit her teeth, raising her fist. “YOU SHIT-EATING BASTARDS WILL PAY FOR THIS!” She ducked her head back in.

Foo Fighters smiled, proud of herself, before running back over to the elevator and jamming the ‘open’ button.

It took a couple seconds for the doors to open, at which time multiple nails had come out of their boards and stuck themselves in Foo Fighters’ back.

“OW! S-SHIT! NAILS! The magnetism is getting stronger...b-but does it just get stronger over time, or because I’m closer to her?! Come on, elevator, hurry the fuck up!”

The elevator doors opened, bowing to her command. The girl and the dog hurried in.

Avdol and Joseph, outside the site, were watching each other’s backs.

“Be wary, Mr. Joestar. I can’t watch the whole range around us alone.” “Yeah, I know.”

A man happily wheeled a wheelbarrow out of the construction site, humming along to a tune in his head.

Joseph squeaked and pointed over to him. “Avdol. Wheelbarrow, 10 o’clock.” Avdol squinted at the person.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Joestar. Certain wheelbarrows are made from plastic instead of metal. He isn’t having any trouble controlling it, so that must be one of them.”

“Then...h-how would you explain that?!” He pointed again at the man.

He had stopped, and was struggling a little with the wheelbarrow. “Urk...Why can’t I move this thing…?! Actually...I-I feel like I’m being pulled!”

The man let go of the wheelbarrow, stepping back. “O-Oh shit!”

The wheelbarrow fell over, revealing its inner contents.

Trowels. Hammers. Nails. Wrenches. Saws.

They slowly inched across the ground, at first. But slowly, steadily, they sped up.

And they started to lift off of the ground.

Joseph grit his teeth, obviously afraid of the many sharp tools coming at him at full speed. “OHHH NOOOOO!!!”

“M-Mr. Joestar!” Avdol looked around quickly for something he could use, and luckily found a large piece of wood.

Using [ Magician’s Red ] , he grabbed it and quickly shoved it in front of Joseph’s face.

Joseph was forced to watch as all the tools stuck themselves through the board, all but one coming just centimeters from stabbing his face.

The one exception was a mason’s trowel that stuck itself right under his eye, even through the board.


Avdol threw the board far away from Joseph with his stand and put his hands out, unsure of what to do.

“Er, d-don’t worry, Mr. Joestar! I got it!”

Avdol grabbed the trowel’s handle and forcibly yanked it out, causing a sput of blood to come out from Joseph’s face.

“AAAAUUUUGHHH!!!! D-D-Did you REALLY have to pull it out like that?! And, c-can’t you just melt them with Magician’s Red ?!”

“I would, Mr. Joestar, but remember, you’re a magnet! I can’t instantly disintegrate metallic objects of this size and density like I can with simple nuts! If I tried to do that on the tools that came flying at you, it would create blobs of searing, melted metal that would burn through your skin!”

“S-Shit! Then...what CAN you do?!”

“I may have an idea...Mr. Joestar! Do you know what the ‘Curie Temperature’ is?”

“What?! No! No clue!”

“The ‘Curie Temperature’ is a temperature where ferromagnetic metals lose their magnetism due to breakdown of the atoms! If I can get to the magnetic objects beforehand, then I can get them to the Curie Temperature so they won’t be attracted to you! We just need to be near some water to cool them off afterwards! ...I’ll pay for any things we need to replace.”

“I think I understand...but, there will be tons of people and ships near the Nile River!”

“Mr. Joestar, I know Egypt like the back of my hand! Across the river, there’s a place called the Kharga Oasis, where although they are modernized, there’s not nearly as much technology or metallic objects! We should be safe there!”


Joseph looked in the direction of the Nile.

“...We just have to get there , right?” “Correct. But I have another idea!”

Avdol waved at a young boy riding his bike, running over to him.

“Young man! Could we borrow your bike?!”

“No way! Get your own, old man!”

“...How rude...T-Then, could you at least point us to a free one?”

“Go away! I’m getting my mo--Urk!!”

The boy was about to snap back at Avdol again, however, he was interrupted by the bike flying straight out from under him and sticking to Joseph.

Joseph winced from the impact of the metal bike on him, and he coughed up a bit of blood.

“A-Avdol…!! I-I don’t think you need to ask anymore! Just pedal! I’ll ‘stick’ to you!”

“Understood, Mr. Joestar!”

Avdol hurried over and hopped on the bike.

“Hopefully your magnetism won’t mess with any of the inner mechanisms…”

“I’ve been through enough, today! J-Just hurry and drive!”

The fortune teller cracked his neck and leaned forward, starting to pedal as hard as he could.

It was a little tough, considering Joseph is a fully-grown man in his 60s, but he was still going as fast as he could!

“Alright, creep. Talk.”

Jotaro was standing up straight, dangling a battered, bruised, and bloody Alessi by the foot.

“T-Talk?! Talk what?! What do you want me to say?! My favorite band?! Favorite color?! How about my favorite menu item from McDonalds?!”

“I change my mind. Shut up.”

Polnareff squinted around the city, sighing.

“He wasn’t exactly the strongest enemy...but I’ll be damned if he wasn’t annoying as hell! It’s just a good thing you managed to see what he looked like before he turned me into a kid.”

He nursed a wound on his arm. “Bastard even got me pretty hard with his axe.”

Jotaro glared at him.

“So. Creep. Tell me where your partner is.”

“Partner?! Heheh, w-what partner?! I’m just a good little boy who serves DIO, I-I dunno what you’re talking about, hahahah!”

Polnareff pulled out [ Silver Chariot ] and made it put the blade up to Alessi’s neck.

“Tell us where the mademoiselle with the magnetism ability is, or I’m slicing you up like a fresh cantaloupe!”

“OOHHHH!!! O-Oh oh oh oh, right, yeah, you mean Mariah!! Heheh, y-yeah, she’s over in the desert out in Luxor! She isn’t anywhere here! ...N-Now, will you let me go…? Please? Kindly? I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I?”

Polnareff crossed his arms, looking down at the battered man.

“...Not a chance. Right, Jotaro?”


Silver Chariot and Star Platinum both grinned, planning to relish the beatdown they were about to inflict on this poor, ugly sap of a man.



The combination of Star Platinum ’s forceful fists and Silver Chariot ’s elegant, yet fierce swordplay sent Alessi flying off into the sky.


Alessi was then nothing more than a blink in the horizon.

A day later, he would be found face-down in a dumpster with several dozen broken bones and bruised organs, but alive. His hospital bill is more than DIO would have ever paid him for turning in Jotaro and Polnareff’s heads.

Jotaro and Polnareff, speaking of which, put their heads together and decided to head out of Luxor to the surrounding desert to look for the others and the magnet stand user.

A feminine-looking man with a slice of blonde hair to his right, heavy eyeshadow, and some pink lipstick was walking along down the coast of the Nile River.

He was wearing a tourist t-shirt saying “I LOVE EGYPT”, along with some leather burlap pants and the fluffy boots he usually wore. He had a handheld electric fan blowing on him as he sweated in the hot sun.

“ goodness, the heat is unbearable here! I much prefer the cold mountains to this...At least my gold pocketwatch was able to buy me a thinner shirt and this marvelous fan…”

He wiped his forehead.

“People appear to be respecting the Earth to...a not quite satisfactory amount. They build these...hahhh...these ugly buildings on top of the natural sand, they take advantage of the Nile for their own makes me sick! It makes me want to a designated spittoon! Not on the ground, of course.”

He yawned, digging into his pocket and pulling out the piece of paper.

“Now, let’s go over who I’m supposed to be ‘eliminating’ once more...Let’s see...Joseph Joestar...Jotaro Kujo...Jean-Pierre Polnareff...Mohammad Avdol...Oh, and ‘Foo Fighters’. Hmm...It certainly was handy for him to include pictures.”

Dr. Ferdinand looked over the pictures, sighing. “Such wasteful and extravagant clothing choices. I bet that chain of Avdol’s is store-bought...All of my clothing is all-natural! ...Which is why it pains me to wear this cheesy shirt.” He pulled on the shirt a little, wafting it to let in some breeze onto his torso.

“I sure do hope I come across them soon enough...I feel like I’m about to pass out from this heat…”

Chapter Text

Weather Report was simply relaxing on one of Professor Kujo’s seats, reading the newspaper.

Boy, was he bored...Sitting around, doing nothing.

Though...there isn’t exactly much he can do.

He’s still missing his memories, he’s still missing his stand, Jotaro and that Josuke boy are off hunting, and when he accidentally bumped into Rohan, he just replied he was ‘too busy for idle chatter with foreigners’. That was real nice of him.

So, he simply sat around. He took the cup near him and sipped the chamomile tea out of it.

The radio he had on nearby was playing ‘Anarchy In The UK’.

Weather didn't usually listen to such hard songs, but there isn’t much else on. Everything else is Japanese songs he’s never heard before.

Weather yawned, rubbing one of his eyes.

...He’s grown tired of this newspaper already. All in Japanese.

At least Rohan’s stand made it so he was fluent in’d be hell trying to get through this experience if he still spoke only English.

Weather Report folded the newspaper back up (incorrectly, as always), and tossed it over behind himself, getting up out of his seat.

Maybe the professor has some interesting files he can dig through…

He sifted around on the coffee table.

Just some marine life magazines and a few other old newspapers.

He moved over into what looked like his bedroom.

For a hotel room, it’s pretty tricked out...Mr. Kujo must have a lot of money.

It makes him wonder momentarily why he didn't just pay Jolyne’s bail before remembering what the whole issue with that was.

Weather Report shuffled around in the files before coming upon one that truly interested him.


[ Stand Arrows ]



He’s never heard of these things. He opened the file up and started reading.


[ Judging from me and Mr. Polnareff’s research, the stand arrows were created when a meteorite from an unknown origin landed in Cape York, Greenland. A specific blacksmith, thirsting for the power of the gods, fashioned them into an uncertain number of arrows.

Following this, in 1986, an unknown man unearthed six arrows underneath the Egyptian desert and sold five to Enya G.

Enya gave/relinquished two arrows to a select few people, the unknown man keeping one for himself. The people who received arrows are listed below:

  • Shichoka Nijimura, father of Okuyasu and Keicho Nijimura. Keicho obtained the arrow following his father’s mutation by Dio Brando’s flesh bud implanted within him. Subsequently stolen by Akira Otoishi and retrieved by the Speedwagon Foundation.
  • One was kept by research partner Jean-Pierre Polnareff for research and safekeeping.

The other arrows’ whereabouts are unknown.]


Weather Report was surprised by how in-depth this file was. This must be an important subject of research. He turned to the next page.


[ Effects Of The Stand Arrow ]

[ When one is pricked or otherwise pierced by the stand arrow, one of two things will happen.

  1. You are killed.
  2. You gain a stand based on your personality and nature of your fighting spirit.]


That was all Weather needed to hear, shutting the file quickly and hurrying out of the hotel door.

Akira Otoishi. That was the man that was mentioned in the file.

If he can find this ‘Akira Otoishi’, then maybe he can find out more about these ‘stand arrows’...then, he can see if he can get his hands on one and regain his stand!

He hurried along out the door, eager to go and ask the people around him.

“He’s in prison.”


Well, that didn't take long.

When Weather had hurried along out of the hotel, it only took him a little while before he met a young man that gave him the aforementioned answer.

He was a handsome, strapping young lad with combed-down hair on the sides that’s neatly trimmed on the top. His blue eyes and strong cheekbones made his ‘H ☆S’ tattoo on his chin all the stranger.

The young man was wearing a dark, modified school uniform along with a huge, white ribbon attached to his neck. The two tendrils of the ribbon had ‘SPEED☆KING’ and ‘HIGHWAY’ written on them in English. Seemingly, he had done all this himself.

The boy was walking along with three girls around his age: One black-haired, one blonde, and one red-headed. He seemed rather proud of himself, as the three girls complimented and fawned over him incessantly.

Weather approached him.

“Uh, excuse me…” The fangirls turned to him and immediately formed a protective barrier around the young man, putting out their arms.

“Hey! Back away from Yuya-kun!”

“Yeah, screw off, weirdo!”

“He’s busy! He doesn’t have time for gross old guys like you!”

Weather Report put his hands up, frowning.

“Alright, alright, sorry...maybe sometime later.”

“Hey, hey, hold on, now…”

The young man raised his hand, smiling. The fangirls turned back to him, shocked.

“The poor sap hasn’t done anything wrong yet, has he? Come on, I can spare a few minutes for an autograph…”

Immediately, the girls went back to fawning over him.

“Oooohhh, Yuya-kuuuun~!” “You’re so charismatic~!” “We loooove you~!”

“Of course, then!” He stepped forward, smirking with a hand on his chest. “What would you like of A student and top motorcycle racer in Morioh-cho, Fungami Yuya? An autograph? A picture? How about a race?”

“Well, no...actually, I was going to ask about someone. Do you know an ‘Otoishi Akira’?”

“Otoishi Akira, hm…? Oh! Yeah, I remember reading about it in the news with my girls, here...He’s in prison.”

“Ah…” Weather scratched the back of his neck. “Er, w-which prison, exactly?”

“If I’m remembering correctly…” He put his hand to his chin to think for a few seconds. “Mukou-gawa Prison!”

“(Mukou-gawa...doesn’t that mean ‘Other Side’?) Well, nonetheless, thank you so much, Fungami Yuya-san.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. And as a parting gift to you…”

Yuya pulled out a small sheet of paper, scribbling his own signature hastily along with a small doodle of a motorcycle before handing to Weather Report. All the fangirls squealed.

“EeeeEEEE!!” “You’re so cooooool, Yuya-kun!” “You signed the paper so sexilyyy~!”

He simply chuckled and moved his hands for them to quiet down.

“Girls, girls, was nothing~”

They shrieked again and fawned over him once more as they exited down the street.

Weather Report looked at the autograph...

From one super driver to a fan’s dreams,

Fungami Yuya

...and subsequently stuffed it in his pocket. It’s in English...why would he even sign it in English if we’re in Japan? Nonetheless, maybe it’ll come in handy soon.

But Mukou-gawa Prison.

Weather Report was led on through the dark, stone hallways of Mukou-gawa, finding the texture of the stone walls being the most interesting part about the trip down.

“Typical prison visit rules apply. No exchanging of objects. No reaching into or out of the bars. Et cetera.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

The stone walls of the hallway dissolved into cage after cage after cage. This truly, a prison.

Loathable rejects of society reached and clawed out from the bars, yearning for just one more day of freedom to wreak havoc on the world.

It reminded Weather all too much of Green Dolphin Street. Urgh.

The guard that was leading him along stopped short.

“He’s in here. I will be standing by to make sure you don’t talk of anything suspicious.”

Weather Report nodded at her and stepped around, peering into the cell.

...There was a tall, wiry young man in an orange prison uniform curled up on the corner of the bed. He had a sick, of those two, going down his left eye, along with a long shock of purple hair.

He didn't exactly look happy...instead he looked somewhat...scared.

The guard yelled into the cell.


Akira looked up, teeth grit, and uncurled only to scramble back further on the bed.

“Urk…!! S-Stay away from me! If you’ve come to beat me up for stealing your stuff, I get it, b-but don’t hurt me! I’m changed! I-I’m a changed man! Plus, I’ve been beat up enough...I-If Josuke, or-or that dumbass Okuyasu sent you, tell them to lay off of me!”

Weather Report put up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I’m not here to beat you up, Otoishi-san. I’m here to read you a letter, actually.”

The guard looked at him, but paid no further attention.

Akira finally got up out of his bed and approached the bars, arms crossed.

“A letter, huh…? Who’s it from?” He smiled. “One of my adoring fans who saw my stellar guitar playing on the dock?”

God, Weather’s meeting a lot of narcissists today…

”No. Actually, I can’t tell you who it’s from...apparently it was anonymous. Let me pull it out for you.”

Weather dug around in his pockets, feeling around for nothing in specifics. He felt around for a few more seconds before pulling out the autograph Yuya had given him.

“No, no, that’s not it…”

Akira sighed. Weather held up the paper a little longer so Akira could take notice of it, and eventually, he did.

“W-Wait! What’s that paper you’ve got? Let me take a look at it.”

“Hm? Oh, this? It’s nothing. Just an autograph I got from a Fungami Yuya-san. Do you know him?”

“Do I know him? Pff, he’s a snobby motorcycle driver who’s full of himself and has got a harem of girls following him around…” He groaned. “To be honest, I’m kinda jealous of him...but let me take a closer look at that thing.”

Akira leaned in a little more. Some of the letters were circled in pencil...

From one (s)uper driver (t)o (a) fa(n)’s (d)reams,

Fun(g)ami Y(uy)a

The ‘ultra super guitarist’ stared at the paper a little longer. It’s in English...good thing he took a couple classes on English back in high school! ‘Stand...guy…?’ What could that mean?

Or, wait...the only people who should know about stands are other stand users, right? So, then, if he knows about stands, then…

Akira looked away and sighed. “Alright. Thanks for showing me. Now hurry up and get that letter out.”

Meanwhile, out from behind him, with an intense electric guitar riff, [ Red Hot Chili Pepper ] emerged. The bird-like stand seemed dulled and weak, no doubt due to the lack of electricity in the prison’s facilities.

The stand itself leaned in towards Weather Report.

“You can see me, correct?”

Weather Report’s face didn't move, nor did he look up.

However, his thumb moved to a point on the paper and lightly tapped it. The ‘Y’ in ‘Yuya’.

That must mean yes!

“Damn, really? I must have gotten pretty, c’mon and tell me. Why’d you REALLY come here?”

Weather’s thumb moved to more letters.

[ E-S-T-A-P-E ]

“...Estape…? Oh! Fuck, you mean ‘escape’! Hell no! There ain’t no way I’m breakin’ out of this joint, no matter how much I want to! If Josuke and Okuyasu find me, they’ll KILL ME! And I don’t mean ‘retire’ or ‘knock unconscious’, I mean it, they are going to MAIM ME BEYOND RECOGNITION!’

The stand clenched its fists, gritting the teeth within its beak. It seems pretty worked up about this.

Weather moved his thumb again.

[ A-R-R-O ]

“A-r-r-o...Arrow? You want the arrows? Man, the Speedwagon Foundation already stole the one I had, I can’t help you there…”

This time, when Weather moved his thumb to the letters, he grumbled a little where there was a space. “Damn thing...where is it…?”

[ E-R-P / M-E / F-I-N-D / A-R-R-O ]

“ Erp? Oh, help! Help you find another arrow? I dunno about I mentioned, if Josuke or Okuyasu find me, they’ll kill me for sure!”

[ O-N-R-Y / F-O-R / T-O-N-I-T-E ]

“Only for tonight...alright. You’ve got a deal, buddy. Meet you in the courtyard of Budogaoka High School tonight. But by dawn tomorrow, you’re getting me right back in that prison, understand?!”

Weather’s thumb tapped the ‘Y’.

“Gotcha. And you better pay me back for this somehow, chump!”

Weather tapped the ‘Y’ yet again.

Red Hot Chili Pepper returned back to Akira, who looked back over to Weather Report, hands on his hips.

Weather Report sighed. “I must have left it at home. My apologies, Otoishi-san, for wasting your time.”

Akira grinned. “No, no, that’s quite alright. Nice seein’ you…”

“Weather. Report Weather, in the Japanese form.”


Weather shoved his hands back in his pockets and nodded, turning to the guard. “Guard? I’m finished.”

“Alright then. Come along.” She gestured for Weather to follow and started walking along down the hallway, Weather trailing along.

He’s one step closer to regaining his stand...he feels so naked, so empty without it.

It feels like the only thing he has remaining from his times in 2011 Florida, apart from his clothing and knowledge of English.

He hopes this whole ‘arrow’ thing goes off without a hitch…

Off to the outskirts of town, a young, soft-faced man in a black raincoat was sitting in a bus.

To him, everything around him was nothing more than foreign gibberish.

He was so lucky to have such a fine president as President Valentine to be his superior...otherwise there’s no way he would have survived out here in Japan.

Valentine had been careful to supply him with an ‘interpreter’, a slightly chubby man who looked to be in his mid-30s, with shaggy brown hair and an equally shaggy brown beard. When asked about his name, he just asked that the man in the raincoat call him ‘D’.

The bus driver leaned back and shouted at the man.


The man in the raincoat pulled his legs up to his chest and frowned, scared of the man shouting at him before the interpreter whispered into his ear.

“He said, ‘next stop, Morioh-cho’.”

“...M-’Morioh-cho’...? That’s my destination, I’m sooo~ooorry...Let, let me look at my targets, again…”

He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a piece of gum, three pennies, a letter from Mr. Valentine, and the photos of the people he was supposed to kill.

“...Uh, let’s see...Jo...Josuke Hig--uh...Higashikata...Okuyasu...Nee-Ni-Nijimura...Jotahro...Kujjo...Ko-Ku...Koichi Hirose...R-Rohan Kishibee...and...Weather Report...mmmhh...t-this is a lot...I dunno if I can handle this…I’m sooo~ooorry, Mr. Valentine…”

He remembered the letter and opened it up, popping the wax seal off and unfolding the paper inside.

“To Richardson,

On your mission you may become discouraged. You will face several dangers. Think of these things not as obstacles, but as ‘trials’ to prove your worth to me.

You are capable of much more than you believe.

I believe in you.

~ Valentine”

Blackmore neatly re-folded the paper and put it back in the envelope, pressing it back shut before sighing and looking out the window.

“...I hope it will rain today…”

Chapter Text

Anasui covered the back of his neck, eyes bulging out as he coughed up cup after cup of blood.

“Hrrgglrggrgll…(M-My...fucking neck…)”

He staggered around a little, looking around for something, anything, to plug up the wound.

Anasui felt like he was about to pass out, when he finally found something.

“(T-That guy’s buttons...on his shirt! I can use…)”

He dove down to the man Abbacchio, Mista, and Narancia had beaten up and tore off one of his shirt buttons, using [ Diver Down ] to plug up his wound with it.

Bruno hurried over as Anasui coughed, doubled over. “A-Anasui! Are you alright?”

“Yeah…(koff) Yeah, I’m fine. (No thanks to you…)” He stood back up, hands on his hips as he walked back over to Narancia, whose tongue had quickly placed the switchblade back into his pocket.

“As I was saying, Narancia can only say lies as of this moment. This is no doubt the work of an enemy stand, so keep an eye out for both that, and the one that tore his tongue out in the first place. We oughta--”

Abbacchio walked up to him, sneering. “Look at you. All high and mighty like you’re the leader. Listen up, you punk.” He pressed his index finger into Anasui’s chest.

“I only take orders from one person, and that’s Buccellati. Get that through your thick skull, Little Orphan Annie. So don’t think you can just order us around like som--”


Bruno’s voice interrupted him.

“...Let him speak. He figured this out faster than any of us, we should at least hear him out.”

Abbacchio grit his teeth and walked away, Anasui brushing himself off.

“As I was saying...we should ask Narancia what he saw.”

Anasui looked back over to Narancia expectingly.

Narancia scratched his head, looking at him.


“Oh! Right, yeah! The enemy stand was...this animal thing! It had tons of feet!”

Mista stood back up, cracking his back and pulling out his gun. “Tons of feet? Animal thing? So must be a...plant? What’s the opposite of an animal?”

“Yeah! It was a plant! Or...a fish? I was moving so quickly, I didn't get a good look!”

Anasui looked around. “So, then, did you at least get a look at its ability?”

“I did! It...It can travel through water! It can teleport from body of water to body of water! (...W-Wait, what? That was the truth!)”

Abbacchio put his hands on his hips. “Then that means...what? If he’s lying, then it could be everything BUT that.”

“N-No, no! That was the truth! I swear!” Anasui cleared his throat.

“Remember. Narancia can only lie for now.” “No I’m not! I’m telling the truth!”

Bruno looked over to Giorno. “Giorno! Keep an eye out to the buildings surrounding us! Narancia, how big was this stand?”

“HUGE! It was bigger than that table over there!” He pointed over to the table that they had been sitting in.

Anasui glared at him.

“So, it was ‘HUGE’, but you only got a quick look? Or, said it was ‘moving quickly’, so it was slow! If it was huge and slow, how did you only see it for a second?”

“It-It’s their ability! It vanished before I could get a look at it, but when I was looking at it, it was moving slow!”

“Wait, but you JUST SAID it was moving quickly!”

“I-I did?! Wait, yeah, it was! (WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!)”

“...” Anasui pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is giving me a fucking migraine.”

Bruno looked around to the group. “Nevertheless, it’s clear that we’re being attacked! Everyone, be on guard! Abbacchio, come over here to the table, over where Narancia got his tongue ripped out. See if your [ Moody Blues ] can replicate how the enemy stand looked.”

“I understand.”

Mista cocked his gun. “Me and the Pistols will check out the inside of the restaurant! The user has to be around here somewhere!”

Narancia shouted. “N-No, Mista! Not in there!”

“Yeah, in here! Gotcha, Narancia!”

“Nooooo!!!! (D-Dammit! NOW I’m telling the truth?! How is this happening?! I thought I was lying out of my own control earlier, but now I don’t have any control over whether I’m telling the truth or lying!”

Giorno kept an eye on the buildings surrounding the area they were at, keeping himself poised to bring out [ Gold Experience ] at a moment’s notice.

Coco Jumbo meandered along the ground, still holding Trish and Fugo.

Bruno and Abbacchio approached the table, still full of glasses full of water and wine bottles.

Anasui stood guard next to Narancia, looking around.

Then, Narancia put his hands to his cheeks, groaning. “Nnnghhh…”

Anasui looked down at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Mista’s gonna get killed! I-I need to go and save him!”

“Alright, so he’s safe, and you’re confident in his abilities...I understand.”

“N-No! No, that’s--”

A couple gunshots rang out from inside the restaurant, attracting everyone’s attention.

Narancia scrambled forward, sprinting into the restaurant while screaming.


Anasui grit his teeth. “Oh shit...Narancia, HEY! GET BACK HERE!”

He stumbled along after him, following Narancia off into the restaurant.

Bruno looked back to Giorno. “Giorno! Keep an eye out! They’ll take care of Mista. We’ll be busy over here for the time being, so stay alert.”

“Of course, Buccellati!”

Squalo and Tiziano, from atop a rooftop a good couple blocks away, watched the trouble they were having.

Squalo looked over at his partner, grinning.

“I got Mista! I’ll pull him into the canal and tear out his throat!”

Tiziano put up his hand. “Wait. Hold off on that, Squalo.”

“Huh?” “Look. Bruno and Leone are surrounding the tables. If you try to use [ Clash ] to get Mista into the stream, you’ll inevitably end up jumping into one of those liquids on the tables. Then you’d get caught. You need to kill Mista quickly, in the restaurant. If you screw around any, Giorno will be able to heal him.”

“...I gotcha! I’ll rip him to shreds!”

Anasui and Narancia arrived in the restaurant, the two of them looking around.

“If all you can do is lie, then Mista really is in trouble in here! Come on, look around for him!”

Anasui separated from Narancia, Narancia using [ Aerosmith ] ’s radar to search the area for carbon dioxide.

Narancia spotted something. Actually, a few things.

Three hazy dots. And one dot that jumped around the radar from place to place.

He pointed in the direction of the hazy dots, screaming out. “HE’S NOT OVER THERE!”

Anasui tore himself away from the stoves where he was looking and rolled along the tiled ground of the kitchen, leaping forward and punching the area with Diver Down .

The only thing he succeeded in punching was a set of upturned pots and pants with three smoking bullet holes in them.

“Wh...What the hell?! You said...If you only spout lies, then he should’ve been over here! Unless…”

Narancia was about to open his mouth to speak before he finally spotted the enemy.

It was in a pot of water, atop the stove that held the empty pots Anasui was looking at on the ground. He was so caught up in the bullet holes of the pots, that he didn't even notice it.

Clash bobbed itself out of the water, its teeth sunken deep into Mista’s shoulder. It pulled its jaws out of him and latched onto his neck, ready to clench its jaws and sever his carotid.

Narancia pointed at it and sent out Aerosmith with a guitar riff, shooting feverishly at it. “THERE HE IS!”

It was just about to bite down when Narancia’s bullets hit it head-on, forcing it to let go of Mista as the pot loudly clanged and bounced off of the stove, falling onto the ground and…

...Spilling the water everywhere.

Up on the roof, Squalo suffered the effects of being shot three or four times in a row, wincing hard as bullet holes appeared all over his body.

Tiziano put a hand to his partner’s chest. “Squalo! Are you alright?! You were being too reckless! You need to pull your stand back so you can recover! I’ve come up with a different plan: Go after Giorno! He’s the healer, if we take him out, nobody can recover!”

Squalo coughed up a little more blood.

“I…(koff) appreciate the sentiment, Tiz, but...I have a plan of my own! Just go along with it! Trust me! You need to trust me on this!”

“...Okay...I’ll trust you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Mista popped out of the pot, full-size, and rolled along the ground, forcing himself to open his eyes but unable to get up, putting a hand to his wound.

“N-Narancia...The enemy…!!”

Anasui looked up, and saw Mista. “Mista! What the hell!? So then, Narancia was telling the truth! But, he could only say lies beforehand...There’s some dumbass shit going on here!”

Suddenly, Clash leaped out of the puddle created by the upturned pot, latching itself onto Mista’s neck and biting down, chomping away and spraying blood everywhere.

Narancia grit his teeth. “(Shit...there’s gas coming from that stove...I can’t shoot with Aerosmith ! But...that’s just fine! Yeah, that’s perfect! I can still fuck him up either way!)”

Aerosmith came out once more, flying straight at Clash to slash him up with the propellers on the front of the plane.

Clash reacted quickly, however, diving itself into Mista’s blood and disappearing. Aerosmith looped back up in the air to hover next to its user.

Narancia frowned. “ got away!” He gasped. “H-Hey! I can say the truth!”

He turned around and shouted out towards the entrance of the restaurant.


Outside the restaurant, Bruno and Abbacchio were watching the cup on the table.

Moody Blues had transformed itself into what looked like...a fish-type thing. True to Narancia’s word.

Bruno frowned. “Okay. It was a fish-type the opposite of what he said was indeed true. Abbacchio, can you go any further?”

“No, I can’t...The playback cuts off here. It’s like a videotape cut short.”

“Damn it…”

Then, they heard Narancia screaming.

Of course, to them, they know that whatever Narancia says, the opposite is true.

So, to them, He just called their names, said he wasn’t able to find the enemy, and its ability isn’t to warp between bodies of water, just like he mentioned.

Bruno perked up to listen to it, then sighed. “...We should still check in to see if they’re alright.”

“And humor that little turd Narancia? Pff. We still need to be aware of ourselves out here, Buccellati. The enemy could still be out here.”

Giorno just looked back to the restaurant.


Anasui got up and brushed himself off, heart pounding. He cracked his neck, looking around. Then, he got an idea.

First, he grabbed several towels from inside one of the pantries, throwing them on the ground to soak up the water that was spilled.

Rushing back to the stove, he grabbed an empty pot from nearby and started to fill it with...water.

Narancia threw out his hands, confused and annoyed.


“Shut up, Narancia! I have a plan! I’m SURE this will work! Let me take care of it!”

As soon as it was filled up, he shut off the water and looked around.

No other water sources in the kitchen, apart from Mista’s blood...


On the roof, Tiziano sniffed, rubbing his nose.

“...What is he doing…? Anasui just filled that pot up with water, despite now knowing your Clash can warp between said bodies of water...This is suspicious. I don’t trust it.”

Squalo snickered, then winced from blood pouring out of his bullet wounds. “Haahh...d-don’t worry about it, Tiz. This...This is all going according to plan. S-See, as long as Anasui sees ‘that’, on the wall...we w-won’t have anything to worry about. It’s like I need to ‘trust’ me. Just continue what you’re doing, and go along with me.”

“...Again. I do hope you know what you’re doing…”

Clash , as was to be expected, appeared in the pot Anasui was holding.

Narancia clenched his fists. “(Shit…!! I can’t fire with Aerosmith , still! That stove’s putting out tons of gas into the air! Fuck! What do I do…?!)”

Mista, trembling from pain and yet still conscious, pointed his finger over to the dish rack hanging on the wall.

“...(koff, hack) Th…(horck) The...d-dish...rack...I gun there…(hlurk, cough cough) before I was taken…”

Anasui looked over to the dish rack.

Sure enough, Mista’s gun was hanging there, missing three bullets out of six.

He smirked. “I was planning to slam this pot and a pan together to create a spark...but this is even better!”

He grabbed the gun and cocked it, ready to fire at Clash .

Narancia lunged forward. “YEAH! FIRE AWAY, ANASUI! (NOOOOOOO!!!! SHIIIIT!!! HE’S GONNA--)”

Anasui fired.

The spark from the gun hit the gas from the stove, causing a massive explosion.

It burned the entirety of Anasui’s back and caught his hair on fire, but it’s fine.

This was exactly what he wanted!

Keeping the pot in his hand steady as he was flung forward due to the force of the explosion, he flew straight over the table in the middle of the kitchen.

Nimbly, athletically, he kicked himself off of the table to the other side, using his hand to keep Clash within the pot. Clash was hit with some of the explosion, and as such was somewhat injured, but it remained in the water in the pot, unable to see any other sources due to the height of the pot.

As he landed on the other side, he threw Diver Down forward to grab a metal pan from the opposing counter.


He used his stand to shove the pan into the pot, covering up the top completely and leaving Clash trapped in the small, dark space inside.

“I used Diver Down to seal up this pot...Now it can’t escape! Narancia, you said it could travel between bodies of water, right…? Well, there has to be some limitation! If the host isn’t around here somewhere...then he has to ‘see’ through this stand! And if he can’t see anything…”

He held up the pot, smiling. “...Then the stand can’t go anywhere.”

...Of course, he forgot about the actual effects of the explosion. Now, the entire other half of the kitchen was on fire, Narancia grabbing Mista and dragging him along out of the kitchen, coughing and hacking from the smoke.

“...Oop. Right. Forgot about...the other people here. But that doesn’t matter! I caught the stand!”

He hurried along over to the other side of the table, Clash banging and crashing against the pots and pans, screaming to be let out.

Squalo ended up getting some minor burns from the effect of the explosion, but was otherwise unharmed (apart from his earlier injuries).

He put his hand to his chest, panting and huffing.

“Squalo...I-I told you! You need to follow my plans! You were too reckless! You were over-confident in your abilities, and now you’re trapped! You need to call your stand back!”

“...S-See...I would...but I still have one more idea.”

“No! No more ‘ideas’ of yours! Follow my lead! Anasui will most likely try to get Narancia to shoot you through the pot! Look for Mista! Mista’s blood is your gateway out! Then you need to call your stand back, so that you’re able to recover! We need to recuperate!”

“...I...I understand. I’m sorry for not listening to you, Tiz…”

“That doesn’t matter anymore! Just follow my directions ‘now’!”

Anasui skidded over to Narancia, holding it up. “Narancia! Now that the stove’s gas has been used up the explosion, you can fire! Come on! DO IT! FILL THIS FUCKING FISH FULL OF HOLES!”

“You don’t have to (koff) tell me twice!” Narancia, gripping Mista’s hand, sent out Aerosmith to shoot the pot mercilessly.

One bullet grazed Clash ’s dorsal, making Squalo’s ear be fired off.

Another bullet hit one of its pectoral fins, making a hole in Squalo’s left arm.

And the third finally opened up the pot enough to let it spot Mista.

Immediately, Clash teleported to Mista’s neck wound as Narancia blew the remains of the pot away. Anasui held the twisted metal in his hands, confused. “...Wh...Where the hell’d it go…?”

Narancia whipped around. “Mista’s wounds!”

Clash coughed and hacked, but still was confident. “You dumbasses! You didn't even think about Mista’s blood! I can see the aquarium in the restaurant from here! Grazie! I’ll be taking my leave!”

Clash immediately warped away into the fish tank.

Bruno and Abbacchio were looking around towards the building surrounding them.

They didn't even see the shark-like stand go into a glass of water on one of the tables and disappear.

Anasui and Narancia sprinted out of the restaurant, Anasui taking up the liberty of dragging Mista along.

Narancia huffed as he ran. “I shot that thing at least twice! That, combined with all the previous injuries, and the fact he’s running away, he must be recalling his stand!”

Anasui groaned. “Yeah, I know that! That means we have to find the users now!”

The group outside watched Narancia and Anasui sprint out, Anasui shoving Mista to Giorno.

“He’s got injuries on his shoulder and throat, hurry it up and heal him, he’s bleeding out!”

Giorno caught Mista, watching them run down the sidewalk confusedly.

Bruno and Abbacchio turned around, Bruno thrusting out his hand.

“W-Wait! Anasui! Narancia! What’s going on?! What happened to Mista?!”


Bruno lowered his hand, mouth left open.

Abbacchio just frowned, sighing. “Just let them be. I’m sure they’ll take care of things soon enough.”

Squalo had one hand to his ear and one hand to his arm, panting and wincing from the pain.


“Stay calm, Squalo. Let’s move down from the roof. Control your breathing. If Narancia uses his radar to spot your erratic breathing, we’re done for. Here, I’ll put a blanket over you to cover up your wounds.”

Tiziano rummaged around on the ground and found an old sheet, tossing it over Squalo.

“Let’s move down into the crowd. We’ll be harder to spot down there.”


“What?” Squalo frowned and looked off to the side.

“I’m...sorry I acted so...out of line. I know you’re the brains of the operation, and I’m just the ‘doer’ of our partnership…”

Tiz put his hand up to Squalo’s face. “No, Squalo...don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s admirable that you managed to come up with a plan at all. We can talk about this after the mission. For now, focus on killing Buccellati’s crew and preserving your own life.”

He put his forehead to Squalo’s.

“I love you. Remember that.”

“I love you too, Tiz.”

“Now come. Let’s hurry down. They’ll be here any second.”

Anasui and Narancia were now stuck in the crowds of Venice, searching for the users.

Narancia had Aerosmith ’s carbon dioxide radar out, on the lookout for any sign of ragged breathing.

“The wounds aren’t fresh at all, so I won’t be able to spot them.”

Anasui patted down a small fire on his hair. “Is that the truth, or a lie…? Dammit, I can’t tell anymore...Hey, Narancia. What color’s my hair?”


“Alright, you’re…(sigh) fucking hell. What a mess.”

Tiziano and Squalo made their way through the crowd, Tiziano frowning as he pat Squalo on the shoulder.

“Easy, Squalo, easy. Control your breathing as much as you can. If Narancia spots your uneasy breathing, you’ll be spotted for sure.”

“I gotcha...I-I understand…”

Suddenly, Narancia’s voice rang out.


Squalo gasped and looked up and around.

“W-What?! He found us?! How did he--”

“Squalo, Squalo! Calm down! Remember, I have full control over Narancia’s speech. Talking Head made him lie.”

“Then...w-why would he say such a thing?”

“To throw you off. To make your breathing more labored from anxiety. Just keep yourself calm…”


Anasui looked back over to Narancia. Narancia pointed at his tongue and made a slicing motion, pulling out his switchblade.

Anasui just smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a plan of your own. Just tell me who to find.”

Narancia made three circles in the air with his blade.

“...Three circles. Okay, that’s blondie. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Anasui hurried off.

This went on for a few more minutes. Narancia would say ‘I FOUND YOU!’ or ‘I HAVEN’T FOUND YOU!’, throwing Squalo off in an attempt to find him. There’s only one thing, he knew, that would truly shock the both of them.

Anasui returned, holding one of Giorno’s ladybug brooches. “I hope you know what you’re doing, kid!”

“Don’t call me kid, asshole! I know what I’m doin’!”

Pulling out his tongue with one hand, Narancia winced and braced hard as he sawed straight through his tongue, pulling Talking Head off with it. It wasn’t just one clean slice, though. He had to force himself to bear three or four gritty slices through the tender flesh of his tongue, his mouth filling up with blood that he had to tilt his head forward to drain out.

After he pulled it out, he stuck it on the switchblade, and Anasui stuck the ladybug brooch in his mouth, starting to form an entirely new tongue.

He had told Giorno what needed to be done, and he supplied a new tongue for Narancia.

He yelled out once more.


Squalo huffed through his teeth, vision a little blurry from how much blood he’s lost.

“That one h-had a delay...has he really found us this time…?”

“No, Squalo. I’ve told you this many not worry. Talking Head lets me manipulate whatever he says. It’s just another lie.”

Squalo looked over to Narancia and his breath hitched in his throat.

“...Sh...Shit...T-Then...You better look at that…!!”

Narancia was standing there, his old tongue on his switchblade tip, Talking Head stuck tight onto it.

Tiziano gulped. For the first time in the fight, he felt immediately anxious. “...S-Shit...he...h-he cut out his tongue?!” Squalo blinked hard, trying to convince himself he was dreaming.

“H-How could he do that?! Nobody can survive their tongue being cut out!”

Tiziano felt himself start to sweat. “T-That’s could he be talking…?!”

Narancia coughed. “I...FOUND YOU!” The ladybug brooch finally created a new tongue in his mouth and attached to the stump of his old one.

“S-Shit...he has a new tongue?! How?!”

Squalo looked to his partner. “Giorno Giovanna! The boss warned him about the newbie! He can ‘create life’...he must have created a new tongue for Narancia! I-I didn't even notice! He knows where we are now! He has found us, he’s been tracking MY breath all along!”

“C-Calm down! Please! If he knew where we were, he would have already attacked us! It’s a bluff! Just...Just another bluff!”

Narancia stalked through the crowds, Anasui following from behind at a safe distance, proud of the little dumbass’ plan-making skills.

“There are so many breaths in this crowd alone...ragged breaths, sturdy breaths, struggling breaths...but this is what I was waiting for! For one set of breaths to become faster and more anxious after seeing me cut my tongue out, with his stand stuck to it! That’s what I was waiting for! I was just about to give up hope, too!”

Tiziano huffed. “W-What way…!!”

Narancia pointed to him.


“He...He was looking for me instead…!!”

Narancia waved his switchblade around before throwing it away behind him. “Yeah, and that guy next to you...he looks like he’s injured. That means that he’s the shark guy, right?! Am I right?!”

Tiziano whispered to Squalo. “(Squalo! Call out Clash! Hurry it up!)” “(I can’t! W-We shouldn’t have hidden in the plaza...there’s no water out here! I can’t attack Narancia like this!)”

Narancia pointed at Squalo, Aerosmith popping out.


“S-Squalo!!” “I can’t do anything, Tiziano! There’s no water! There’s nothing I can do!!”

Aerosmith fired at Squalo…

...But ended up hitting Tiziano.

Tiziano’s wounds spurted out liters of blood, his body falling to the ground, only caught by Squalo. Tiziano’s blood covered Narancia.


“There’s your water...Squalo...I’m sorry things didn't go the way you...would have...wanted them to...but y-you can still still victorious…”

Tiziano closed his eyes, his head falling back.

He was dead.

Clash ’s fin poked out of the blood on Narancia’s chest.

Slowly, Squalo raised his head.

“...The boss’ orders...they don’t matter anymore...not one bit...I’m not killing you to complete the mission. Tiziano...I’m killing him for you. I won’t leave even a single scrap of him behind. I’ll kill every member of his team...I’ll eviscerate them...I’ll tear them to pieces…!!”

He snapped forward, a fiery look in his eyes.


Clash lunged for Narancia’s throat.

However, it was intercepted by Diver Down , punching it square in the side and causing it to fly out into the crowd. The hit made Squalo lurch and cough up a bit more blood.

Anasui approached Narancia, standing next to him with his arms crossed.

“If you think your bosom buddy’s pathetic little trick is gonna be enough to take Narancia out…”

Narancia pointed at Squalo.


Aerosmith flew out from behind Narancia, hitting Squalo square in the chest with the propeller.

“You can’t stop us...we’re gonna break out of Venezia, safe and sound! See ya.”

Then he started shooting.


Squalo’s bloodied body flew through the air.

“Volare via.”

Squalo felt the pain course through his body as his last moments of consciousness drifted through his thoughts.

“(Such...overwhelming...resolve...from nothing but mere…? They should be...despairing at the hands of...the why…? Why do they...act like they still have...hope…?)”

He closed his eyes.


Squalo’s corpse hit the concrete hard.

Coco Jumbo had quietly wandered itself over into the restaurant without anyone noticing.

Slowly walking around, it only had a dim awareness about what was happening.

...Of course, that was kind of obvious. It was just a turtle, after all.

But what’s going on inside…?

Fugo had finally awoken, blinking hard and looking around his cramped, dusty prison.

Of course, he was still inside the couch due to Anasui’s Diver Down ability.

He just remembered appearing in Coco Jambo, thinking he was going to be killed by the boss, and then…

...Ugh, god, he has a splitting headache…

...Where is he? How’d he even get in here?

He poked his fingers around a little and recognized the material keeping him trapped as the fabric on the underside of couches.

Is he...inside a couch? How’d this even happen?

He tried to poke his way through, but when that didn't work, he brought it up to his mouth and forcibly bit it open. It hurt his mouth, but it made a hole big enough for him to hook his finger into and tear open.

He unceremoniously dropped to the ground and quietly crawled out from under the couch, groaning.


He got up and brushed himself off, rubbing the lump on the back of his head.

...Is that...Trish?

Trish was on the couch, curled up, sleeping.

What the hell? He’s…

He looked around.

He’s still in Coco Jumbo.

Okay, Fugo. Think this through logically...What sequence of events could have happened to keep him here, after he had stayed behind on the island of San Giorgio Maggiore…?

...No. No, that couldn’t be it…

...The only thing he could think of would be that…

...That Buccellati and his crew kidnapped him after he refused to come along., it couldn’t be...he thought they were his friends...they may have been fools to betray the boss, but now they’ve really done it…!!

He’ll be grouped in with them, if he’s caught...Even though he stayed behind…

Even though he stayed loyal…

He needs to get out of here. He looked up through the red window and hopped up, appearing in the restaurant.

He looked around. It’s dark. There’s nobody in here...the kitchen has smoke billowing out of it. Despite its current empty state, there are signs that people WERE here.

Where is he…?

He looked out to the entrance.

Oh shit.




He needs to get out of here. If they see him...who knows what will happen to him…?

Fugo quietly snuck his way towards one of the windows and crawled out.

He needs to get away from them...He needs to distance himself from these people as much as possible!

On the opposing street, two people walked along, one with his hands in his pockets and the other looking around in wonder at everything around him, speaking in a tell-tale screechy, awful voice.

“Haha, whoaaa, shit! Look at all this! Modern life! Ain’t it grand, Wekapipo?! I told you all this shit would be popular someday! Oh! LOOK! LOOK!”

He pointed up at the sky. An airplane was going by.

“An AIRPLANE! I TOLD YOU! But you were too concerned with Gyro and shit, like ‘oh shut up Magenta Magenta’, no! Look! ...DAMMIT, YOU AREN’T LOOKING!”

Wekapipo just sighed and dug the photos Valentine had given them out of his pocket.

These were the people they were assigned to kill. Giorno Giovanna...Bruno Buccellati...Guido Mista...and Narciso Anasui.

He’s certainly looking forward to showing off the steel ball techniques of the Imperial Guard of Napoli...but he could do without this stupid partner of his.

“Whoa, hey, Wekapipo, look at that! Some kid just climbed out of that restaurant window! He looks important! ...Oh, shit, he’s coming this way!”

The ‘kid’ Magenta Magenta mentioned did indeed come their way, stopping in front of Wekapipo and Magenta Magenta.

It was...Fugo. But, of course, neither of them knew that.

He isn’t on their list to assassinate.

“...Are...Are you two members of Passione?”

Wekapipo opened his mouth. “Wh--” “Yeah! Yeah, we are, kid! You got a fuckin’ problem with that?!”

Fugo scratched at his cheeks. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...they’re here to kill him. They’re here to fucking kill him! He needs to act fast!

“...I need to tell you...I-I did not betray the boss! I was kidnapped by Bruno Buccellati and his subordinates! D-Don’t send him after me, please, I beg of you!” He clasped his hands together, gritting his teeth, fearful for his life.

Wekapipo opened his mouth again, but was immediately interrupted yet again by Magenta Magenta, who crossed his arms and snickered, sniffling.

“Oh, so now you beg for your life in front of us…? There is nothing you can do to save yourself from the wrath of the’ll be killed in such a painful way, there will be nothing you can do about it! You may as well give up!”

Fugo’s eyes bulged out of their sockets and he broke out in a cold sweat. His logical mind had almost broken down out of fear.

“P-Please...anything...anything I can do! I need to prove I haven’t betrayed anyone!”

Magenta Magenta snickered. “Well...there is one thing I can think of that you can help us out with...that will also make up for your mistakes.”


Magenta Magenta looked over to Wekapipo and grinned.

Wekapipo just sighed.

He really needs to get a new partner...

Chapter Text

The group of girls (not counting Emporio and Lang Rangler), after running off of the island from the police, was led by Miu Miu to her home.

...Well, ‘home’ might be a little bit of an understatement.

‘Mansion’ might be a little more fitting.

For one thing, she lived in a gated community, so she had to saunter up to the booth at the gate, sniffing as she rested her arm on the counter.

“Well, hello there, Mr. Buchanan. How are we doing today?”

Mr. Buchanan, a man with a bushy beard and swooped-back hair, nervously smiled and tipped his guard’s hat to her.

“Doin’ jus’ fine, Ms. Miu Miu, ma’am.”

“That’s good to hear...say, I’m bringing these…” She looked back to the group.

Jolyne watched with her hands on her waist, frowning.

Gwess scratched some of the hair poking through her hat, staring off at the trees.

Miraschon rubbed the side of her nose and looked at her fingers afterwards, flicking away the dead skin.

Lang Rangler cracked his neck and grumbled about the heat.

Emporio just stood watching her.

Miuccia looked back to the guard. “...Ahem, ‘friends’ of mine to my house for a little get-together. Is that alright?”

He eagerly saluted, grinning. “Er, y-yep! Yeah, that’s fine, Ms. Miu Miu, miss, ma’am!”

“Oh~? Don’t I need to show you some…” She dug her hand into her breasts and pulled out a small identification card with her face on it, grinning coyly at the guard. “...ID~?”

“N-Nope! No, that’s-that’s fine, I…” Stammering, he pressed a button within the stall.

The gate quickly opened up. “G-Go right ahead, ma’am!”

Miu Miu just blew a kiss at him before gesturing for the rest of the group to follow.

Jolyne just sighed and walked after her, Gwess following along quickly after her with Emporio. Miraschon sneered at her with her arms crossed, while Lang Rangler just muttered ‘slut’ under his breath.

“Jeeesus fuckin’ christ, Miuller, you call this a ‘hovel’?”

Lang stood with his arms out, staring up at the beautiful house.

Three floors. Dozens of windows! TWO sports cars!

He walked up and pressed the doorbell. It played Elvis Presley’s ‘Jailhouse Rock’.

“What the fuck, even your doorbell’s all hoity-toity?!”

Miu Miu sighed. “Really, it’s nothing compared to my parents’ doesn’t even have a pool larger than eight square meters or a TV bigger than 85 inches.”

Jolyne felt herself getting sick with a mixture of jealousy and anger that someone like her , of all people, would get such a stupidly fancy house.

“...Man, I live with my mom in a two-bedroom, single-floor house…”

Gwess put her hand on Jolyne’s shoulder. “Aw, don’t worry, least you don’t live with any relatives! My brother’s a real heel.” She coughed. “Also he was the one that landed me in jail, but--”

“Hands off.” Gwess retracted her hand. “Oop. S-Sorry, Jolyne.”

Miraschon just crossed her arms and snickered. “Psh. Yeah, sure. This place is reaaalll great. But it’s nothing compared to mine! I’ve got servants catering to my every whim, diamond-studded silverware, and a pool the size of this whole house!”

Emporio looked up at her. “You know, Miraschon, lying isn’t really very nice…”

“Shhhhhhhut the fuck up, kid.”

Miu Miu sighed and waved for Lang Rangler to step away from the house, her bending down and digging around under the ‘This House Has Cats In It!’ placemat.

“I left my house keys in the pants of my guard uniform, so I’ve gotta use the spare…”

The key was stuck into the lock of the door, and she opened it up.

The inside, to simultaneously no one’s and everyone’s surprise, was stunningly beautiful.

The walls were painted a soft eggshell color, adorned with various beautiful paintings of the Italian countryside and shelves of family photos and decorative dishes.

Immediately visible was a passageway into a huge kitchen containing a full bar, tricked out with drinks of all sorts, as well as an especially inviting Chesterfield sofa flanked by two comfy seats in front of a huge flatscreen television. The table in front of it was stacked with fashion magazines and a couple coasters in the shape of cat’s paws.

After she moved out of the way, the group funneled into the house, reacting with various degrees of shock and wonder.

Gwess, however, was immediately drawn to something specific.

Laying down peacefully on the back of the couch was a black cat with gleaming yellow eyes.

She took notice of it as soon as she entered and pushed past Miraschon to approach it.

“Oh my gosh, is this your cat?! Holy SHIT, HE’S SO CUTE!!!! I love hiiiim~!!” She pulled the cat into a hug and rubbed her face all over him, giggling like a child.

Miuccia frowned at her, but sighed. “You can pet him, just be careful of old Elvis over there. He tends to not like strangers.”

As if on cue, Elvis the cat immediately yowled and whipped around, starting to scratch at Gwess’ face and body.


Miraschon (along with the rest of the group) basically ignored her in favor of sitting on the couch, reaching for the remote and flicking it on. “You got any sports channels on this thing, Miuller? I wanna watch the latest Marlins game.”

Lang Rangler just sneezed into his hands. “(I’m fucking allergic to cats...I hate this place…)”

Miu Miu just rubbed her forehead. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you bozos stay here...but, no matter.” She turned around and pointed at Jolyne.

“FE40546! I want you to explain what exactly we’re supposed to be doing next. You’re all essentially fugitives, so you can’t be screwing around in broad daylight trying to figure out what to do.”

Jolyne frowned. “Well, first of all, my name’s Jolyne. You can call me Jolyne, you don’t need to be so anal about our prisoner numbers...but more importantly, do you have a yellow pages book in this house?”

Miu Miu crossed her arms, sighing. “FE40546, it’s 2011. The yellow pages is dying out. Besides, I wouldn’t own such an ugly book…”

“(Ugly book…?) Whatever. I’m looking for some guy named ‘Rykiel’. that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I took his cell phone anyways...Hmmm...Oh! After the fight, we visited the closest hospital in order to look for Versace, and it was right near Orlando...Do you have a map somewhere?”

“Ugh, hold on, hold on…” Miu Miu dug around the fashion magazines while Miraschon craned her neck. “Hey, outta the way! You’re blocking the TV!”

After a bit more shuffling, she pulled out a magazine featuring a map of Florida along with the top 10 hottest trends among teenagers.

“Here. I don’t think It’ll help much, but maybe it’s worth something.”

Jolyne took it from her and traced her finger along the paper, mumbling, before she perked up.

“Right here! I recognize this name! Lake Nona Medical Center! That was where we fought Versace! Rykiel is most likely in there!”

Emporio looked up at Jolyne. “You really think they’re gonna let you visit him, Jolyne? I don’t think hospitals are usually so open…”

She closed the magazine back up and tossed it over to the stack, making it fall over onto the ground and scattering magazines everywhere on the carpet.

Miuccia just pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning.

“Don’t worry, Emporio! I’ve got a plan!” She looked back over to Miu Miu. “Hey! Miuccia! Mind if we use one of your cars?”

“Only if I drive you there. I don’t trust any of you with my car, and honestly, I’m annoyed enough that I have to keep you all here like rabid animals.”

Lang Rangler sneezed into his hands again and wiped them off on his shirt, glaring at her. “(Yeah, same to you, bitch.)”

Jolyne sniffed. “I’m fine with that. How many people does your car hold?”

“Four. Five, if you want to pack them in.”

“Alright then...I’ll be going, obviously...Emporio should come, too, since he was also in the fight with Rykiel…”

Gwess popped her head out from behind the couch, her face covered in scratches and bleeding.

“I’ll go with you, Jolyyyyne~!”

“...(sigh) Fine. But only because you look like you need to go to the hospital too. That makes four...alright. Miraschon! Lang Rangler! Don’t mess up Miu Miu’s place while we’re gone, okay?!”

Lang Rangler sniffled and rubbed one of his eyes. “You’re acting like I have no sense of control! I’m not gonna fuckin’ burn the place down, honestly…”

Miraschon giggled. “Heheh, I might.”

“Shut up, bitch!” Miraschon just stuck her tongue out at him.

Miu Miu just groaned and turned back around. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”

The car ride up from the gated community nearby Green Dolphin Street Prison up to Lake Nona Medical Center was a long one. No doubt about that.

From Green Dolphin Street up to Cape Canaveral itself, it’s a 10-hour drive.

Being generous and saying it was half an hour to the gated community from Green Dolphin, it’s about four hours from there to where they fought with Rykiel.

And then it’s another three hours to Lake Nona Medical Center.

Miu Miu drove along in her pretty and yet extremely gaudy bright pink sports car down the I-95, occasionally taking advantage of a red light or traffic jam to re-apply her makeup.

The air conditioning blew on the whole party in the car, making sure they all wouldn’t die from the heat, but all the windows were open nonetheless.

The radio had in an ‘ELV1S: 30 #1 Hits’ CD, blasting ‘Hound Dog’ out for all the disgruntled Floridian drivers to hear.

Emporio was sitting shotgun, holding Miu Miu’s purse against his better judgement. He wasn’t exactly tall enough to look out of any of the windows, so the time he didn't spend sleeping, he watched the sky and trees go by out of the windshield.

Jolyne had brought a couple fashion magazines along for the ride, and was flipping through them, reading the various articles.

“Ugh, Gwess, look at this.”

Gwess, who was nursing her face scratches with some damp napkins and antibiotics, looked over to Jolyne. “Hm?” She leaned over to see what she was motioning to.

Jolyne was pointing at a picture of a scantily-clad woman in a swimsuit, and was trailing along the curvature of her body.

“You see that?”

Gwess didn't respond.

“...Gwess.” “H-Huh? What?” “Do you see what I’m pointing at?”

“...Uh, no, I guess not.” “Then what were you staring at?!” “N-Nothing! Get to the point already!”

Jolyne ran her finger along the curvature again. “Look at this body shape. And then, look at the clouds back there. You can see the picture was digitally touched-up to make her look more appealing! That’s so scummy, isn’t it?!”

Gwess scratched her hair. “Now that you mention it, I guess so, yeah...though, I think you’d look good in that swimsuit, Jolyne.” She blushed a little.

“What?! That’s not the point I’m trying to make! It’s--” She stopped for a second before sighing. “Whatever. Just go back to tending to your wounds or whatever you were doing.”

“If you say so~”

Back at Miu Miu’s home, Lang Wrangler was standing next to one of the comfy-looking chairs, not sitting in it due to his allergies to cat hair. He sneezed into his elbow, looking over to Miraschon, who was lounging with her legs spread on the couch watching a game of baseball.

She yawned and scratched her stomach, cheek resting on her fist.

Then she got up and stretched. “I gotta piss.”

“I didn't need to know that!”

“Well, too bad, Langston, that’s what you get when you’re stuck with me for the next couple hours.”

She threw up a middle finger before turning around and heading off to find the bathroom.

He reciprocated the motion, and after she left the room, he hurried forward and sat in her seat, taking her exact position and sighing.

“Heheh...sucker. Now I get the couch seat--”

Everybody let’s rock~ We’re dancin’ to the jailhouse rock~

“God--That’s the fucking doorbell. Alright...Whoever’s at the doorstep is gonna get a real fistful of it.”

Langston grumbled as he got up and trudged over to the door, opening it up.

At the doorstep, he was met with a slightly tipsy person who looked like a soldier with deep bags under his eyes, wearing an old-fashioned soldier’s helmet and a dull brown uniform.

The person at the doorstep sniffled and dug out a photograph.

The photo looked to be of Lang Rangler in his brown suit, making him unrecognizable to the person at the doorstep.

“Are you, uh…’Langston Rangler’?”

Lang was about to say ‘yes’, but then he remembered he was a fugitive.

“...Nope. Sorry, bud. Go ask for Salvation Army donations somewhere else.”

Then Lang slammed the door in his face.

The soldier just sighed and put the photograph back in his pocket, standing around outside the front of the house.

He’ll get in there...eventually.

After a solid 7 hours of driving, it was now almost night. The small clock display on the dashboard said ‘7:17 pm’.

Emporio was awake and noticed when the car stopped.

“Oh! Are we there, Ms. Miuller?”

“Should be. This is where the GPS took me.” She turned around in her seat after putting the car in park.

Jolyne was curled up in her seat, asleep with her head on the window. Gwess had leaned over and had her in a hug, her face pressed up against the side of Jolyne’s chest as she drooled.

“Hey! Lovebirds! Wake the hell up, we’re here.”

Gwess snorted and opened her eyes, letting go of Jolyne and rubbing her eyes, frowning. “Urrghhh...Whuzzah? We’re here?”

Jolyne woke up immediately after, squinting and fluttering her eyes at the lights of the hospital in the dark.

“Ugh, shit...the hospital…” She then noticed Gwess pressed up against her chest and frowned, pushing her off without a word and getting out of the car with everyone else.

Entering the hospital, they met with a receptionist at the front desk.

Jolyne put her hands on the counter.

“Hey, uh, Mrs…” She squinted at the stern, older woman’s name tag. “...Spoon. Do you know where there’s a Rykiel in this place? He’s a friend of mine, and I’d like to visit…”

Mrs. Spoon just stared at her. “Visiting hours are over. Go home.”

Jolyne sputtered a little nervously. “Er, eheheh, see, he’s my cousin, he was injured badly recently, I just need to make sure he’s fine…”

“I thought you said he was your friend.”

“He is! Cousins can’t be friends? See, look! We have the same birthmark, you can check!”

Jolyne turned around and pulled down the back part of her shirt, showing off her star-shaped birthmark.

“Nope. Go home.”

Miu Miu crossed her arms and sighed.

Gwess stepped forward. “Hey, Jolyne! I have an idea!”


She stepped around Jolyne and leaned over the counter to look at the receptionist.

Then, she snapped her fingers. In a quick moment, [ Goo Goo Dolls ] was brought out, and it immediately shrank the receptionist down to the size of a mouse, leaving only a small lump in a pile of clothes.

Jolyne’s mouth hung open, looking at her. “…”


“...N-Never mind. Let’s just hurry up and find Rykiel before she turns back.”

The group quickly turned to leave, Emporio hopping up and grabbing a patient list off of the counter.

He looked it over, then looked back up at Jolyne. “Sonja, Rykiel! He’s in room J-16!”

“J-16, gotcha! Thanks, Emporio!”

After a bit more running, they finally came to room 16 in the J branch of the hospital.

Jolyne put her hand on the doorknob, then turned to shush the rest of them.

“(It should be bedtime for most of these patients, so if he’s sleeping, don’t alarm him.)”

“(Gotcha.)” “(Okay.)” “(Whatever…)”

Jolyne slowly opened the door up and peeked in.

Unsurprisingly, Rykiel was inside. Surprisingly, he was still awake.

He was sitting up in bed, supported by every pillow he could get with the blankets over him. While previously, he had been able to pull his cow print jumpsuit to cover his neck brace, there wasn’t exactly much he could do this time. The new neck brace was a thick, white one that kept his head fully propped up, and added to it was a metal halo brace attached to his head to keep him from even trying to move his head. There were bandages all over his body in order to treat the burns he suffered in their fight, and he had a medical eyepatch on his right eye. Overall, he didn't look good at all.

He looked like he was watching Family Guy on the hospital television.

Rykiel noticed Jolyne peeking through the door and shifted a little, his previously somewhat relaxed expression turning to one of terror. Yet, he didn't say anything.

Jolyne opened the door up fully, the rest of the group entering.

“...J...J-Jolyne…!! E-Emporio…!!”

He raised his arms, covering his face and shutting his eyes.

“P-Please don’t hurt me…!! I’ve already told you what I know! F-Father Pucci already won, o-or lost, or whatever...just please, l-lay off of me!”

She put her hands up. “Hey, hey, whoa, man. I’m not here to hurt you. Actually, it’s kind of the opposite. I need your help.”

He opened up his uncovered eye and lowered his bandaged arms a little. “Y-You help?”

Emporio hopped up on the seat next to him. “Yeah...I don’t really know fully, myself, but all we know is that we need ‘allies’ for something. Jolyne said you were the most likely one of your brothers to help, so…Here we are.”

Guess walked up next to Jolyne. “Jolyne already recruited a couple people from the prison she was at, too. Like me!”

Rykiel sat up a little more. “A-Alright...but, uh, aren’t you at least a little curious about what happened to me?”

Jolyne rubbed her chin. “I guess so. I mean, I figured you died after Ermes clocked you in the fields, so I’m honestly surprised I’m even talking to you…”

“I-I mean, you aren’t wrong, I almost died...after Ermes punched me in the face, I-I was bleeding out in the fields. But, luckily, a passing sugarcane truck saw me and called paramedics, a-and they took me here! I don’t have nearly enough money to pay for hospital bills, I don’t even have a job...s-so, uh, my brother Sonny decided to pitch in half his income from his job at Green Dolphin Street for my bills! I even sold the car a family friend gave me that I, uh, crashed...I’ve been staying here ever since...M-My neck’s real messed up, I’ll have to wear this thing for at least the next six months, and I have to have surgery to fix my broken vertebrae in my neck...The doctor says that with that, combined with my burns, my right eye popping out of its socket, and the nerve damage to my neck I did to numb my body makes it so I can’t feel anything touching my neck anymore…”

Jolyne hissed through her teeth and rubbed the back of her own neck. “Jeez, man...I almost feel kinda bad for doing all that shit to you.”

“No, n-no, it’s put up a great fight. And...i-if you give me tonight, I can get out of the hospital and call up Sonny to drive me to...uh, wherever you guys are staying.”

Emporio smiled. “R-Really?! You’d help us even after we messed you up that badly?!”

“Yeah...y-you guys taught me a great lesson about humility and human evolution and stuff…(e-even if it ended with me in the hospital for a long while…)”

Jolyne smiled. “Hey, you’re not such a bad guy after all, Rykiel. Give me five.” She held her hand out for a high-five.

“...I-I would, but my hands are kinda...bad, r-right now. It hurts to use the remote on the TV, b-because of the burns and stuff…” He held up his bandaged-up hands.

“Ah. Yeah, I, now that we’ve got you on our side, do you know what’s up with your other brothers?”

“Huh? O-Oh, you mean Ungalo and Donatello, I guess...Well...You guys must already know how Donatello’s doing, right? He was the last one the priest sent out.”

Miuccia sat down in a seat and started filing her nails. Gwess got distracted and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Family Guy and laughing.

Jolyne rubbed her shoulder. “...Ooohhh...Right, yeah. He’s dead. I kinda killed him, since the priest disguised Versace as himself.”

“Ah...I-I understand. What about Ungalo?”


“...Y-You guys don’t know about Ungalo…? He was found catatonic on a plane to the Florida Keys and brought back here for treatment.”

Jolyne tilted her head. “W-Wait, here? You mean, one of your brothers is here here?”

“Yeah, should be...Check the patient list, kid.”

Emporio looked over the patient list once more. “Prince, Gold...Jam, Freeway...Oh! Right here! Emanuar, Ungalo! ...H-He’s in the room right next to this one!”

Rykiel raised his eyebrows. “R-Really?! I didn't know that...I just knew he was here! You guys should try to talk to him, too, maybe he could help you out…”

Jolyne stood up straight. “We’ll be sure to do that, man. Thanks for helping us out. We’re out at...Miuccia, what’s the name of your fancy-schmancy gated community?”

Miu Miu looked up from filing her nails. “Zevon Gardens.”

“Zevon Gardens! If you ask for Miu Miu, they’ll probably know who you’re looking for. See ya, man.”

She turned around and walked towards the door.


Rykiel thrust out his hand, shouting. Jolyne turned around.

“...I don’t know what it is, but...I can feel someone else. I can feel another connection. Someone else is in Florida that’s related to me...I’ll see if I can come up with a name the next time I see you guys, but there’s definitely someone nearby that I think could really help you.”

Jolyne stared at him for a second before shrugging.

“Alright, man. See ya then.”

She waved at him, and the rest of the group exited.

Rykiel looked back at the TV.

There’s only one name that he can think of when he focuses on that energy…

...It’s so strong...and yet, so vague. He’s probably never met this person in his life…


Chapter Text

Jotaro and Speedwagon stood back to back outside of the Room of Dragon Decapitation, keeping a close eye out for something dangling down.

Jotaro put up his finger.

“Since you can’t see stands, I’ll say this...the moment you feel a presence above you, start running. Find something you can duck under.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Jotaro, but...we’re out on a cliff next to a castle, and the door’s locked! There isn’t anywhere we can hide!”

“In that case...I’ll just have to make such a spot.”

[ Star Platinum ] emerged out from Jotaro’s body and started mercilessly pummeling the ground, screaming.


Large rocks flew about, Star Platinum acting fast to arrange them above the new ditch he had created, Jotaro gesturing to it.

He had made a small hole with an overhang, just big enough to fit a person.

“Get in.”

“M-Me?! Jeez...I know it’s for my own safety, but you couldn’t have done better than a hole in the ground…?”

“I said get in.”


Speedwagon hurried over to the hole and dove into it, peeking out of it like a somewhat frightened child.

Jotaro stayed out in the open, looking around himself. 




All at once, time stopped.

“It’s only for half a second, but...I just heard something. That sound.”

He spun on his heel, getting a look at the surrounding area.

“There it is…”

He was able to get a look at what he was up against.

A long, metal wire with a bloody hook on the end.

And...oddly, it was hanging out of a bird flying overhead.

Time resumed.

The hook whipped around, aiming for Jotaro’s jaw so that it could hook straight up through the bottom of his chin.

Expertly, he rolled backwards, the hook only barely grazing the tip of his nose.


Speedwagon watched from under the rock, frowning.

“(I...can’t see what’s going on, but Mr. Jotaro is putting up his best fight! And...w-what am I doing?! I’m just sitting here like a scared child! This always happens...I end up being a spectator, and I can’t do jack to help! What a frustrating situation this is...All I can do is pray for Mr. Jotaro’s success.)”

Jotaro continued to dodge and weave around the hook, and yet it still chased him relentlessly.

“Yare yare, this thing really isn’t messing around. How the hell am I supposed to fight something like this?” 

On the nearby mountaintop, Pork Pie Hat Kid was hunched over the pan of water he was staring down into, getting a perfect bird’s-eye view of the cliff that Jotaro and Speedwagon were on.

“Urrghh!! This is so annoyiiiiing!! This Koojuh guy is too dang fast, and the speedy wagon guy is hiding under those rocks!’s actually pretty damn fun too! Heheh! I’ll getcha soon enough, Koojuh! And then I’ll rip up the rest ‘a your friends!!” 

Zeppeli was able to keep himself from being hanged as he held onto the rope wrapped around his neck, and Poco was able to copy him well enough to stop him from meeting the same fate.

Zeppeli watched Pork Pie Hat Kid lurch around unnaturally and began to formulate a plan of his own.

“...(Let’s see here...I have to think strategically. Obviously, that young man is looking into that pan and seeing Mr. Jotaro and Speedwagon. I may not be able to see exactly what he’s doing...however!)”

He managed to crane his neck a little and look down the mountain.

He could see what Jotaro and Speedwagon were doing!

“(Yes…! Then, if he’s attacking through that pan of water...maybe…)”

He whispered.

“Hrrkgh!! P-Poco! I have a big job for you, young man…”

“...W-What is it?!”

“I need you to create a ‘distraction’ for this strange boy!”

“M-Me?! I’m just a kid, I-I can’t…”

“Please! It’s a matter of life or death!”

Poco gulped and thought back to when he was back in the village.

There were always those three boys that would pick on him every day when he came home from school...and every time, he would chicken out of fighting them.

His sister would save him every time.

“ what you’re most afraid of pain? You say you’ll always fight them ‘tomorrow’, but which tomorrow? Aren’t you more afraid of growing up and not being able to do anything for yourself?”

Poco braced himself.

He took a deep breath.


Pork Pie Hat Kid snapped up and turned over to Poco.


He gulped.

Pork Pie Hat Kid tore his attention away from the pan, but kept the wire in.

“Did you call me UGLY?! That’s freakin’ rude! So rude! Rude rude rude rude RUDE! After I kill Kuhjoo...You’ll be the next one to go, you hear me?!”

Baron Zeppeli used Poco’s diversion to his advantage. 

He moved his feet back and held them to the cliff face, using hamon’s natural ‘Life Magnetism’ to attract the dead leaves around the area.

“(I used Life Magnetism Overdrive earlier to create a hang glider...If I can use a less powerful version, I can still bring these leaves together…)”

The leaves came together to form something similar to a small plane, with a pointed tip.

“(...But the glider created will be smaller! Then…)”

He let one of his hands go of the rope, causing it to constrict a little tighter around his neck. Zeppeli reached down and picked up the glider, flicking it into the air.

“(Go…!! Come on!!)”

The glider swooped and swerved around a little before diving down into the pan of water.

Unfortunately, that returned Pork Pie Hat Kid’s attention to the pan, and he saw the glider fly down.


He snapped back at Zeppeli.

“...You stuck all dose leaves together and made a little flying thing, and put it in the pan...You’re too smart fer yer own good, dammit!!”


Back down on the cliff, Jotaro was getting tired of constantly dodging this hook and wire, both in terms of patience and stamina.

He rolled out of the way, huffing and panting.

“Huuhhh...hhhuuhh...shit...this thing just won’t quit... Star Platinum is a close-range stand, any projectiles I throw are just gonna be harmless pebbles…”

Speedwagon kept watching, frowning at himself for not being able to help.

Then, he saw it.

From out of that bird in the sky...a hamon-infused glider softly floated down. 

Gently, it wafted side to side before softly landing right next to Speedwagon’s hole in the ground.

“...(Hm? What is this? Could it be...hamon? A hamon glider?! Then, Zeppeli is still alive! did it come out of that bird just now? ...No, I don’t have time for such things!)”

He looked closer.

It swiveled around slightly on the ground, pointing off towards a nearby mountain.

“(A...Ah! This isn’t just a sign he’s’s a compass! The magnetism must still be reacting to one of the leaves it was made out of near where Zeppeli is...t-this can help us find the enemy!’s too dangerous to be out there right now. And the enemy could be watching us right now...I’d better lay low for now...but...I can’t let the enemy get this!)”

Speedwagon hesitated for a second before reaching his hand out and snatching the glider, placing it into the hole with him.

“Yeeeeesh...You’re really smart, huh, Italian guy?! Sending a sign you’re here...real funny!! Gyeheheh! But jeez, this Kuhjoo guy’s really got some stamina...time to send out Number Two!” 

Pork Pie Hat Kid knocked his head back and hunched back over the pan, another ‘gashink!’ sound coming from his mouth.

Jotaro panted as he was pressed up against the castle walls, the rumbling sounds of Jonathan against Tarkus reverberating from within.

“...Urrghh...shit...can’t hold out much longer…But from the looks of it, these dumbass wires are running out of steam too.”

The wire that had been ceaselessly chasing him approached yet again, Jotaro dodging along the wall.

The hook stuck itself into one of the bricks and yanked a little before pulling the brick itself out and wriggling, tossing it over the cliff face.

“(Damn, it’s powerful, too...if I get hooked anywhere near my brain or heart with that thing, it’s game over…)”

Then, he felt something. 

Another hook.

Embedded into his jaw through his cheek.

“...I-I...didn't even…!!” 

Speedwagon, watching from underneath the rock, saw Jotaro’s cheek twist and malform as the hook, invisible to him, looped through his cheek and jaw.


Star Platinum lunged out of Jotaro’s body, delivering a series of blows to the wire.


No effect. 


Jotaro was yanked up into the bird by the wire.

Speedwagon yelled out from under the rock.


Pork Pie Hat Kid pulled Jotaro up out of the pan, dancing around and grinning.


Jotaro fell to the ground, still hooked by one of the kid’s wires a ways away. 

“(Nngghh...s-so this is the...user...but, this power...I can’t focus enough to use Star Platinum …and even if I could, he’s too far away!! Fuck, it hurts…!!)”

Pork Pie Hat Kid stopped celebrating and leaned back over the pan.

“I’ve almosht got em all…!! Now, next is that speedy wagon guy...oh!!”

He peered into the pan.

The glider was out next to the overhang, still pointing towards his location.

“...That ishn’t good. That’s pointing to me, isn’t it?! That Italian guy did that...I’ll have to pull it up so he doesn’t find me! Most of these dummies can’t see ‘stands’ anyways...I’ll just lure him out afterwards!”

Using the remaining hook not currently stuck in Jotaro, Pork Pie Hat Kid bent down and attempted to pick up the glider.

Being mostly flat, however, there wasn’t exactly much to hook onto.

“Urrrghh!! Nnuurrghh!! Dammit, get it! Get it get it get it get it! Just get it alreadyyyyyyy!!”

On the cliff, Speedwagon watched the glider.

“(I put it out there...if the enemy took Mr. Jotaro through that bird, then he won’t want us finding his location...this may be a bad decision, but it’s the only one I have! I need to help Mr. Jotaro, Mr. Zeppeli, and Poco! I may not be able to see what was attacking it, but it looked like some kind of invisible hook went through his, when I see that glider jiggle even the slightest bit, that will be my time to strike!)”

He watched intently, silently, out from his hole, staring at the glider.

...When it moves…

...Even the slightest bit…

...That will be his time to act.

The glider started to jerk a little, due to [ Wired ] ’s hooks trying to grab onto it.


Speedwagon lunged out of his hiding place and dug into his pocket, looking up at the bird.

“That bird! That’s where he’s attacking from!” 

With an expert flick of his wrist, Speedwagon threw his hat up into the air.

“(Thank God I was able to fold this up and put it in my coat pocket before the mansion burnt down...I swore to myself I wouldn’t use it again, as it’s a reminder of my dirty past, but I have no other choice!)”

Pork Pie Hat Kid had a grand total of three seconds to register the hat with the bladed brim flying towards him.

Unfortunately, that was just a little too much for him to handle.

He was only able to start putting his arms over his face before the hat hit him square between the eyes.

Then into the eyes.

It spun endlessly, first cutting the area between his eyes before starting to cut his eyes in truth.


Shrieking, he retracted both of the wires and stumbled backwards, clawing at the hat to try and get it out of his eyes. 

He was just able to get it out before he remembered that he was on a mountaintop. 

Screaming even louder than before, Pork Pie Hat Kid started to tumble down the side of the mountain, gaining all manners of scratches and bruises in the process.

Jotaro took a breath, putting his hand to his jaw and cheek.


“Mr. Jotaro!”

Jotaro turned. That was Zeppeli’s voice.

And sure enough, there he and Poco were.

“Hurry, before that unnerving young boy returns! Use Speedwagon’s hat to cut us free! I can use hamon to heal your wounds!”

Jotaro blinked at him for a second before nodding, getting up and grabbing the hat.

“(This is really that Speedwagon guy’s hat? I thought he was just a coward who liked to stay on the sidelines...maybe I didn't give him enough credit.)”

Out on the cliff, Speedwagon stood up fully and watched as the birds the enemy had been using to attack flew away.

He smiled and sighed, picking up the glider.

“I feel refreshed...Perhaps I can be of assistance after all. find the others using this glider!”

He turned off towards the direction it was pointing and waved.

It’s across a sheer gorge, there isn’t any way he’ll be able to get over there. 

He’s sure Zeppeli can find a way to get him, Poco, and Mr. Jotaro over here, though…

...Then, he looked back to the locked door.

Poco can help push the lever in the battle room when he gets back…

...He hopes Jonathan was able to keep fighting the good fight in there.

Chapter Text

Lisa Lisa, Joseph, Caesar, Messina, and of course Ermes were on the road to the small roadside inn they would be staying in in order to communicate with the Nazis.

Messina had unfolded a map and was looking at it.

“The inn we’re staying at should be just up ahead…”

Joseph yawned.

“Thank God. Feels like we’ve been driving in this jalopy for hours…”

Caesar looked back from the driver’s seat, frowning.

“Hey, don’t call my car a ‘jalopy’, Jojo! I don’t suppose you have a better car we could have taken, hm?”

“No, but I could have gotten some bicycles for you guys to ride around on! (Would have been a more fun ride than slogging through the snow…)”

Ermes just groaned, covering her face with her hands.

She really wants to go home...she can’t stand this Joseph guy.

“...Look, there’s the inn.”

Lisa Lisa pointed towards the inn. The car the others had seen the familiar Nazi officer in was parked outside.

“About time! Shouldn’t be too long now, right?”

...But the car came to a sudden, immediate stop.

Joseph, the seatbelt having not been invented yet, flew forward and slammed his torso into the dashboard, groaning, while everyone else held onto their seats.

Ermes shouted. 

“Hey, what the fuck?! What’s the hold-up, it’s freezing out here!”

“Well, my apologies, madame Costello, but...there’s someone blocking our way.”

“So?! Go around him!”

“We’re on a bridge.”

Ermes opened her mouth to protest, but sighed, craning her neck upwards. Joseph and the others moved to look as well.

...Ermes gulped.

It was the parka guy she saw shoot that officer!


He raised his hand, taking off his parka’s hood.

“...Pardon me...If I could have a moment of your time, everyone.”

Joseph got up and hopped out of the car, marching along towards Ringo Roadagain.

“Look, buster! I don’t care who you are, where you came from, or whose side you’re on, but you gotta get the hell outta our way! We’re in a hurry, here! Or do you need me to ‘teach you’ how to move?!”

Joseph dug into his coat pockets and busted out the clackers.

“My clackers would love to teach you a lesson in listening to people if you don’t wanna comply!”

Ringo put up both of his hands.

“It’s not you that I request a duel are ‘medium-priority’. I’m going after your group’s only ‘high-priority’ member…”

He pointed over to the car.

Specifically, to Ermes.

She felt her blood run cold, especially noticeable against the freezing cold of St. Moritz, Switzerland.

“I am not allied with your group, the military forces, or whatever other enemies you would be searching for...I work alone, and it is my humble request to ‘duel’ that woman.”

Joseph grabbed him by the collar and grit his teeth, scowling into his face.

“HEY, DUMBASS! Didn't you hear a word I said?! Get outta the goddamn way or I’ll knock your block off!”

“I will move in order to duel Ermes Costello. Nothing else will move me.”

Joseph spat in his eye before letting go of him, walking back over to the car.

“So, Hermits, you gonna ‘duel’ this whackjob? The inn’s right over there, it isn’t a tough jog (for a dude) if you wanna get out and come in after you beat his ass.”

Ermes sighed.

“My name is Ermes . And fine...I guess I don’t have much of a choice if I want you guys to move.”

She took hold of the seat and vaulted herself over, steadying herself on the wood of the bridge they were on.

Ringo nodded, walking around the car and towards her. 

“I see you’ve made your decision.”

“Didn't have much of a choice, did I?”

“You did. You could have chosen to run, to end your journey here, to have your colleagues run me over...there were many choices you could have picked. However, you chose the ‘honorable’ path...for that, I respect you.” 

Caesar shouted out back from the car.

“We’ll be going on ahead to the inn, madame Costello! Come back there when you’re done!”

“Will do, casanova!”

Caesar flinched a little at the nickname before driving away with the others in tow. 

It was now just Ringo and Ermes on the bridge.

Ringo Roadagain stared Ermes down, coat blowing in the wind.

Ermes shuddered.

This guy didn't look so tough...he’s pale, got white hair...he’ll probably go down in a few hits, easy.

“Do you know why I chose you, Ermes Costello? Out of everyone I saw in that vehicle?”

“I dunno, ‘cause I look strong? Or maybe you’re just some psycho that wants to kill me for fun?”

“...It was partly due to my mission...I was sent here by the President to assassinate you and the others. However...I also chose you because I could sense that it was are the only one that could stand a chance.”

“The fuck’re you sayin’?”

“The others...they don’t have stands, do they? They may have something Gyro Zeppeli’s ‘spin’...but they do not have a stand. They would be easily beaten by me.”

“Ooh, you’re confident, aren’t you?”

“My confidence is not out of perceived is because I am ‘sure’ of what I am saying.”

Ermes put her hands on her hips.

“...So you’re a stand user, huh…? Who are you, anyway?”

“My apologies for the delay in my introduction.”

Ringo bowed.

“My name is Ringo Roadagain. I am not from this timeline, and I developed my ‘stand ability’ in a desert in the United States. I have named it [ Mandom ] . Please recognize it as such.”

Mandom showed itself, peeking out from Ringo’s back.

“Six seconds...I can rewind time by six seconds. Not one more, not one less.”

Ermes cracked her neck.

“...Okay…? And why the hell do you want to kill me, anyways? I know it’s a mission, but you said it like that wasn’t the only thing…”

Ringo took his gun out of his holster, causing Ermes to get in a ready stance.

“...I want you to attempt to kill me. A fair duel will help me grow as a human being. A lack of pettiness...A murder attempt with you having no other thoughts on your mind save for the dark truth of killing me...these things will help me grow higher spiritually as a human. As of now, I am ‘incomplete’. I need to overcome these things. ‘Divinity’ is a pursuit. That is why I have not hidden anything from ability, my objectives...I have no reason to lie to you.”

He held up his gun.

“I humbly request your cooperation in my ascension, Ermes Costello. Do you still accept? The choice is yours to take.”

Ermes squinted at him. The fuck is this guy talking about…?

“ what the ‘True Man’s World’ is. The world of values and could condemn it as backwards, but this is what the ideal world is. Our world, in this time period more than careens towards a life of spoiled indifference, no struggle to survive, no will to live. Answer me...Do you accept?”

Ermes stared at Ringo for a few more minutes before sighing.

“Yeah. Let’s duel. I won’t even use my stand to deflect any bullets.”

He nodded.

“Do you have a firearm?”

“...Oh, no, I don’t.”


Ringo dug into his pocket and pulled out an identical copy of his trusty revolver.

“The President gifted me this copy of my 1874 Colt. You may use it for our duel.”

He tossed it to Ermes, who fumbled with it for a few seconds before taking it.

“...Uh, alright then…(I don’t really have much experience with guns, but if it’ll please this psycho, I don’t have much of a choice…)”

Ringo looked back in the direction that the car drove away in.

“...In that car...the young man with the dark brown hair would not take our fight seriously. Neither would the man with the blonde hair. None of them would have the true resolve and ‘dark determination’ needed for my ascension. You are the only one that I feel could obtain that motivation...although you are nothing but a conformist. This is for your betterment as well, Ermes Costello.” 

Ermes blinked at him a few times.

“...Uh...alright then. So, do we just start on draw, count of three like in old Westerns, or…?”

Ringo pulled out his gun and shot. 


Ermes pulled out hers.



She jerked to the side, clicking the safety off.

Ringo’s bullet grazed her side.

Ermes fired.

It hit Ringo’s torso, making him stagger and bleed profusely.


He moved his left hand over to the watch on his right wrist.

Ringo clicked the hands backwards.

Ermes was back to yelling.


Ringo fired again. 

The bullet hit her in the arm.

“FUCK! (That watch...if I can just hit that watch…!)”

Ermes fired. 

The bullet hit Ringo in his right forearm. 

He moved his hand over to the watch and clicked the hands back.

Ermes got hit in the arm again.


Ermes fired.

Ringo dodged the shot.

“...You are disappointing me, Ermes Costello. I believed that you had the strong look in your eyes that would lead us to greatness...but you are still nothing but a ‘conformist’, only fighting for your life and not for your honor.”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole! Can it with the ‘honor’ and ‘conformist’ bullshit! That doesn’t mean anything to me!”

“...If it means nothing...then you will die here, unworthy for the True Man’s World.”

Ringo fired.

Ermes managed to dodge, sweeping her leg and tossing snow into the air, clouding their view.

Ermes fired a shot in the dark.

She missed.

Ringo clicked the watch back. 

Ermes swept the snow up again.

“I can see your movements, should not have fired.”

Ringo fired.

Ringo’s bullet hit Ermes straight between the eyes.

The snow settled as Ringo panted, bleeding from his wounds much more than a normal man would.

He sighed.

“Look closer, you dumbass! Don’t go calling the duel off just yet!”

The snow in the air cleared, revealing that Ermes had two heads.

“I put a [ Kiss ] sticker on my head while I was hidden in the snow...I didn't fire to kill you, I fired to distract you so I could split my head in two!”

She tore the sticker off of her head.

It hurt like a bitch and gave her tons of cuts on her head, but she was still alive.

Ringo stared her down.


Ermes stared back.

“...It’s my beat chumps like you, so you won’t bother me on my way to get back to the world I once lived in! And I can tell you, there’s no god damn way you’ll be killing me, regardless of whether I’m worthy of this ‘True Man’s World’ shit or not!”

Ringo raised his gun.

Ermes shot.

Her bullet hit the bridge, throwing up several old shards of wood.

Ringo shot.

Ermes dodged his shot.

Ringo clicked the hands on his watch back.

Ermes shot.

Her bullet hit the bridge, throwing up several old shards of wood.

Ringo turned his attention to the shards, expecting her to fire them at him.

Ermes fired again.

Her bullet had something wrapped around it.

The bullet hit Ringo in the left collarbone, paralyzing his entire left side.


He fell to the ground.

He brought his right wrist up to his face and clicked the hands back with his teeth.

Ermes fired again. 

Ringo dodged the bullet.

The wind resistance from the bullet flying tore the sticker wrapped around it off.

The bullet that hit the bridge flew up, going diagonally up through Ringo’s throat.

He gurgled and dropped to his knees.

Ringo moved to click the hands back.

Ermes fired.

Her bullet went straight into his left collarbone.

He fell to the ground, bleeding heavily and weakly panting on the bridge.

Ermes approached him.

“Just try it, Ringo...see what happens. I put one of Kiss ’ stickers on the bullet and fired one of them into the bridge. The sticker wouldn’t come off if the bullet stopped short. But you moving out of the way let the air do all the work of peeling it off. And I saw how that fluke shot hit your collarbone and made you collapse...figure you must have some scar there, right? So, tell I still a conformist now? Huh?”

Ringo scowled at her.

“...You will only ever be...a conformist...until you can find that path of light and honor that you must tread in order to ascend into the True Man’s World!”

He slammed his watch into the bridge and dragged it along, clicking the hands back.

“--shot hit your--”

Ermes was shot in the chest before she could finish the sentence.


She stumbled backwards, as Ringo slammed the watch onto the bridge and dragged it again.

Ermes fired.

He dodged to the right, keeping his collarbone intact.

Ermes frowned at him.


Ringo frowned right back.


“...One more round?”

“...Yes...that will be all that is necessary.”

Ringo fired. 

Ermes fired.

Ermes’ bullet hit Ringo in the chest. 

Ringo’s bullet hit Ermes in the shoulder.

Ringo clicked his watch back.

Ringo fired.

Ermes held her fire and slid her hand along the gun barrel and her shirt before firing.

Ringo’s bullet hit Ermes in the side.

Ermes’ bullet went off in some random direction.

Ringo fired.

Ermes fired.

Ringo’s bullet hit Ermes in the chest.

Then, it ricocheted off of something under her clothes and flew towards a nearby tree.

A bullet came out of her chest.


Ermes’ chest bullet hit Ringo’s neck, severing an artery, and the original bullet blew the watch off of the edge of the bridge.

The watch fell down, down, down into the cold depths of the Swiss gorge.

Ringo looked towards the edge of the bridge.

“Surprised? Maybe you didn't notice, but...I used a little sleight-of-hand here. See, I put a Kiss sticker on the gun and hid it right in front of my heart. You knew I could just duplicate my head like I did earlier, so you weren’t going to go for that as a killing blow...the only other area would be the heart, right? And it just so happens that the gun I copied...still had bullets in it. A bullet hitting the trigger could set off an accidental discharge, right? It was a super slim chance...but it paid off.”

Ringo stared up at her, panting as he bled out on the bridge.

“...’Societal values’...and ‘True Man’s values’...are no longer the same thing. They were once one, but then there was a split, and they were separated...the ideals of ‘Man’ and ‘Society’ are not one and the same anymore. The true road to victory is embracing these outsmarted me...but you are still a conformist.”

He paused.

“Go...return to your time. Find the ‘Path of Light’ that will lead you to your goal. The ‘True Man’s World’ is waiting. I will be praying for you...Thank you.”

Ringo raised his gun up to fire.


Ermes sent out Kiss and delivered a blow to the side of his head, knocking him unconscious onto the bridge.

She sighed and cracked her back, wincing at all the gunshot wounds and gashes on her head that she was now stuck with.

She looked off over to the inn.

Hope those guys are doing alright…

...Wait, shit, she didn't ask what that guy was even doing here in the first place! Who’s this president guy? And what even WAS all that crap about the ‘True Man’s World’...? Does this have anything to do with why she’s in the 1930s instead of the 2010s?

God, this is giving her a headache...even moreso than the big rips in her scalp.

“Oh well...guess I’d better get rid of this guy either way.”

She kicked his body over the bridge and into the chasm.

Suddenly, machine gun fire rang out from the inn, and the wall facing Ermes became full of holes.

Then a giant, muscular man in a purple cloak fell out of the now-destroyed wall.

Ermes just watched for a minute before screaming.


Chapter Text

Foo Fighters and Iggy stood in the construction site elevator, waiting to arrive at the top where they were poised to face Mariah.

F.F. reached back and tried to pull one of the nails out of her back.

After a bit of struggling, she managed to yank one out.


...But it just got attracted right back to her, sticking back into her back.

“D-Dammit! This magnetism is no joke...doesn’t look like there’s a way to ‘disable’ it either...I’ll just have to beat that user lady!”

Iggy barked.

The elevator doors finally opened up, F.F. and Iggy sprinting out before being forced to stop.

Being at the very top of scaffolding, the floor was made up of girders in a lattice-like formation. Full of holes, that is. One wrong step would send her careening down into the construction site. 

“Well, well, well...look who it is~!” 

Foo Fighters looked up.

There Mariah was, hands on her hips as she stood proudly on the other side of the site.

Foo Fighters got into a fighting stance.

“Let’s cut the chit-chat, lady! I don’t care who you are, I’m here to defeat you!”

“Now, now, hold on, you don’t have to be so rash. To be honest, I’m surprised...based on the others’ reports, the Joestar group was all men, including that dog there. Your appearance was unexpected by everyone involved...just who are you, really?”

“Like I’d tell you!”

She formed her hand into a gun and started firing plankton bullets.



Mariah effortlessly dodged the bullets, hopping over to a different girder.

“How quaint. You’re shooting algae at me...unfortunately, no algae could ever beat the power of [ Bastet ] ’s magnetism!”

She dug into her coat and pulled out a couple small daggers, tossing them out to Foo Fighters.

The daggers dipped in the air a little, but were immediately pulled in by F.F.’s magnetic field.

F.F. started to sprint, but the daggers turned mid-air to follow her.

“Aaah, s-shiiiit!!”

She hopped across beams and girders, even swinging underneath a few of them, but they just wouldn’t quit.

Iggy, meanwhile, started to bound across the girders, barking and heading right towards Mariah.

She stopped watching F.F. meaninglessly avoid the inevitable to take note of the dog.

“...Hm? Oh, the mutt’s coming after cute, heh~!”

She swept her leg, aiming to kick Iggy off of the top of the site.

“But bad doggies deserve to be PUNISHED!”

Iggy indeed was kicked in the face…

...But he did not flinch.


Instead, [ The Fool ] ’s sand engulfed her leg, getting heavier and heavier.

“Urk--!! S-Sand?! Damn mutt!” 

She tried to shake her leg in order to get him off, but Iggy’s stand just wouldn’t let go. 

“AAAAHH!! D-Dammit, you’re crushing my leeeeeeg!!”

He just smirked at the woman, snickering as he started to walk away. 

However, his confident retreat was interrupted by a serious electric shock.

Iggy yowled as he was thrown across the site, just barely being able to stay on the beams.

What the hell was that?! He…

...He had stepped on an outlet situated on one of the girders he stepped on.

The electric shock made him lose concentration, and the sand dissolved around her leg.

Mariah sighed.

“Ahh, much better...and it feels even better, seeing a stupid mutt like you fall for such a trick! You were so confident in your ability (thanks to my brilliant acting), you didn't even see the outlet! Now YOU’RE magnetized, too!”

Some of the daggers that were still flying after Foo Fighters stopped midway and started to fly towards Iggy.

He took notice and yowled, retreating backwards and using The Fool to create a thick, perfect spherical shell around himself. The daggers stuck in harmlessly, but Iggy stayed in his shell.

“What a cowardly dog...staying in his shell even when his teammate is in danger! It makes me laugh, really!”

Foo Fighters eventually started to slow down, both from being tired, and from something else.

She was finding it was starting to become more difficult to pick her feet up in order to run.

“ feet…?”

“Oh, you haven’t noticed yet? These girders you’re walking on are iron! Iron is magnetic, of course! You won’t win like this...eventually you won’t even be able to pick yourself up off the ground, and I can fill you up with as much metal as I want!”

“S-Shit! This isn’t good!”

One of the daggers stuck themselves in Foo Fighters’ back, causing her to cough up some blood.

However, she managed to deflect the rest of them.

“Haahh...when I swung underneath those girders...each time, it wasn’t just to avoid those daggers...I was also grabbing this!”

She held up a wooden hammer.

“I can deflect the daggers...with THIS! IT ISN’T MAGNETIC!”

Mariah raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Clever girl. Maybe you aren’t as weak as I originally thought you were…”

Foo Fighters made her hand into a gun again and fired a few more times, aiming at Mariah’s feet.

Each time, Mariah dodged out of the way, hopping from one girder to the other just in time to avoid getting shot in the foot.

“Whoa! Hey! Calm the hell down! HEY! FUCK, STOP THAT!”

Foo Fighters circled around Mariah with heavy footsteps, aiming at her head.

“End of the line, lady. Turn the magnetism off, and I won’t shoot you between the eyes!”

Mariah just smirked.

Then, suddenly, her chest blimped out to an unrealistic size.

One breast, then the other.

Foo Fighters lowered her gun a little, confused.

“...The hell…?”

“Jealous? I wouldn’t blame you...sorry to burst your bubble, but they aren’t growing. I confess, I stuffed my bra...with WEAPONS, that is!”

As her bra stretched out into pointed cones, it was obvious that it was full of nuts, screws, and bolts.

Things that would most certainly not be good to be hit with.

F.F. gulped.

The small metal pieces flew out of Mariah’s chest, firing themselves at Foo Fighters.


Thinking quickly, she leaned back.

Far, far back.

Being that her feet were now almost completely immovable, attracted to the girder beneath her, she didn't fall backwards despite being on the edge of the site.

She simply leaned back like she was in a limbo concert, and the nuts and bolts flew straight past her.

She stood back up, crossing her arms.

“Heh, guess you weren’t counting on your magnetism working to my advantage, right?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that…”

Mariah pointed behind F.F.

The nuts, bolts, and screws that had flown past Foo Fighters...were flying straight back at her.

They hit all along her back, causing her to cough up blood as well as making several bruises under her overalls. 

Foo Fighters doubled over, hands on her knees.

Mariah just cackled.

“Ohohohoho~! Looks like you weren’t so high and mighty after all, girl...say, since you’re a somewhat new addition, and I kinda like’s about giving up your affiliation to the Joestars and joining our team? It’s wonderful working under his Handsomeness, DIO~!”

Foo Fighters looked up at her. 

“...I wouldn’t do that...never...not in a million years! Not as long as I have my goal to return to Jolyne and the others!” 

She shouted.


Iggy barked, bringing down his shell.

“I thought you’d know this better than anybody...but magnets attract each other. I didn't shoot at your feet to try and cripple was just to get you in position! YOU’RE RIGHT IN BETWEEN ME AND IGGY!” 

As soon as he brought the shell down, Iggy started flying towards Foo Fighters…

...With Mariah right in between them.

Iggy hit Mariah straight on the back of the head with such force and power that it made her stumble forwards, almost toppling over the edge of the construction site.

Foo Fighters moved quickly, grabbing her by the neck and turning her around to dangle her over the edge. Iggy, still magnetized, just stuck to Foo Fighters’ shoulder, unable to move and barking angrily.

“So...I may be making a mistake here, but...since I went a little too hard on the last guy, and I kinda like do you feel about you giving up your affiliation to DIO and joining our team? You’d be doing the world a big favor, and I wouldn’t have to drop you off this construction high up do you think we are? Three stories? Four? Maybe more? You wouldn’t want to feel that pain...right?”

Mariah clawed at the hand grabbing her by the throat, coughing.

“(koff, hack hack) I...w-would never...betray...Lord DIO…”


Foo Fighters dropped Mariah.

She fell for a short while, tumbling through the air, but when she landed, her impact was at least somewhat softened. 

She landed in some goopy liquid...Slowly, she started to get up.

Oof, ow, ouch, those are some broken bones...okay, a lot of broken bones...but nothing a trip to the hospital can’t fix.

But, slowly, she found it harder and harder to move.

“What…? This is…”

She was just barely able to see through the mess to see what was being poured into the space she had fallen into.

Wet cement.


Her curse was cut short by the wet cement drying around her mouth, along with the rest of her body.

From the top of the site, Foo Fighters held onto Iggy as he changed The Fool into a glider and softly descended from the top. They were no longer magnetized...they had won.

Foo Fighters landed on the ground in front of Mariah, giving a thumbs up.

“Thanks, Iggy!”

Iggy barked in response.

She approached Mariah, looking her over.

“Hmmm...well, at least she isn’t dead...but this feels a little cruel. Let me just…”

She scraped away the cement around Mariah’s nose, opening up both nostrils.

“There we go! Now you can at least breathe. Don’t bother us again, okay?”

Mariah groaned from within the cement.

“Sounds good to me! Alright, Iggy...let’s go find Joe and Avdol and the others. Hope they’re doing alright.”


“I’m t-trying as hard as I can, Mr. Joestar…!!”

Avdol was trying his very hardest to pull Joseph along the ground, Joseph being weighed down by a bicycle, tons of cans and loose change, a wedding ring, and a CAR, among other things.

He was headed towards the oasis coast, aiming to burn the metal off of Joseph and cool him off in the water.

“I-I’m being suffocated, Avdol…!! I-I’m not gonna make iiiit!! OH GOOOOODDD! I’M GONNA DIE BURIED UNDER TEN FEET OF METAAAAAAL!!!”

“You are not going to die, Mr. Joestar! I will make sure of it! We’re almost to the Kharga oasis, look! Just hold out a little further! You can do it!”


Immediately, Avdol pulled Joseph out of the mess of metal, the two tumbling, intertwined with one another before stopping, both of them laying on the ground.

Joseph and Avdol panted, the two of them out of breath before looking at each other.

“...I...I-I’m alive…! Avdol, did you--”

“It...wasn’t me, Mr. Joestar.”


He smiled.

“That Foo Fighters girl...and Iggy…! They must have…”

Avdol sat up, sighing.

“They saved us just in time...We have to be sure to congratulate them when we return to Luxor.”

Joseph pulled his hat down, snickering.

“God...What a close call. And yet, I kept my cool through the whole thing...”

Avdol looked around.

“...Mr. Joestar, I have a feeling that the crowd staring at us would not agree with you on that.”

True to his word, there was a crowd of people surrounding the two of them.

Joseph looked around.

“...Hmph! You should all be ashamed of yourself! Staring at homeless people in the streets...don’t you have anything better to do?!”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves.

“Leave us alone and go about your business, already!”

They murmured a little more before finally starting to disperse.

Joseph gave a thumbs-up to Avdol.

“See? The great Joseph Joestar can talk his way out of any situation!”

Avdol just frowned at him.

Jotaro and Polnareff exited Luxor, hands in their pockets.

“That Alessi guy was kind of a pushover...but I hope the others managed to find the stand user that made Mr. Joestar become magnetic.”

Jotaro shrugged.

“Probably. That girl and the mutt seem pretty strong.”

“Such faith in his comrades, coming from you of all people, Jotaro? How surprising, heheheh…”

Jotaro just glared at him and pulled his hat down.

“Yare yare…”

Dr. Ferdinand had made it to Cairo, and was taking a rest in a small outside bar where he could see the pyramids. 

His electric fan had since ran out of power, but he had kept it and was instead just waving it at him to give him what little breeze he could take in the desert.

“Aahhh, the Great Pyramids...some would call it a monument to human achievements in construction...but I would never do such a thing! The very fact that the ancient Egyptians carved these revolting things out of Mother Nature's soil and stone, fashioning them into the man-made shape of bricks and pyramids...ugh, it makes me sick! Such disrespect for our planet! Honestly.”

A waiter brought him an iced tea.

“Thank you, sir.”

He sipped the iced tea, sighing happily.

“This tea is very nice, grants a well-deserved reprieve from the heat.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out multiple photos, standing up and starting to walk away from the table. 

“Now, let’s see...who was I to kill, again…? Jotaro Kujo, Joseph Joestar, Jean-Pierre Polnareff, Mohammad Avdol, and Foo Fighters…”

“Excuse me.”

Dr. Ferdinand looked up, swiveling his head in confusion.

“Hm? Who said that?”

“I did.”

He looked over in the direction of the voice.

It was a rather handsome-looking man with combed hair, face tattoos, a small mustache, and a cat sitting on the table in front of him.

Dr. Ferdinand stepped forward, towards the table.

“I couldn’t help but notice you mentioned that name...Joestar. What were you looking to do with that ‘Joestar’?”

“Oh, well, I was sent here on a mission to kill them by President Funny Valentine.”

The man leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

“I see...Please, take a seat.”

Dr. Ferdinand sat down.

“My Daniel J. D’Arby. That’s D-A-R-B-Y, with an apostrophe after the ‘D’. I’m what some may call a man of cheap thrills...That is, I’m a gambler.”

He gestured to the cat.

“This is my cat, Mountain Queen.”

Mountain Queen meowed.

“It would appear that you and I...we have the same motivation.”

“We do?”

“ see, it is my duty as one of DIO’s underlings to defeat the Joestar group. As su--”

“DIO?! That cocky British bastard is here as well? This is about a hundred years in the future, how could he have…?”

D’Arby chuckled.

“It would seem you aren’t from around here...and it would also seem that the DIO you know is different from the one I know.”

Dr. Ferdinand crossed his arms, sighing.

“How confusing…”

“Yes, yes. But...while you’re here. I can give you some information about those people...the people you have the photographs of...Show them to me again.”

Ferdinand held up the photos and laid them out.

“Hmm...Yes, I am informed at least somewhat about every one of those people...except for this girl.”

He pointed at the picture labeled ‘Foo Fighters’.

Dr. Ferdinand shrugged and dug into his pockets.

“Alright, how much do you want me to pay you, Mr. Derby…?”

“It’s...D’Arby. And no, no, I don’t want you to pay me with a small game...let’s make a bet. It’s a simple one...a 50/50 shot.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, clearly labeled ‘heads’ and ‘tails’.

“Heads? Or...tails?”

Dr. Ferdinand smirked.

“Heh...This seems almost a little too easy for some information. But, I’ll take it! Alright, heads!”

“Aaahhh, bup-bup-bup-bup. Don’t forget...what happens if you ‘lose’? Obviously, if you win, I tell you precious information about your enemies...but what will you give up if you ‘lose’? How about...your soul?”

“...My ‘soul’? Pff! Such postulating...I am an archaeologist, you know. A man of science. There’s no such thing as ‘souls’ or ‘life energy’ or ‘voodoo magic’ or anything of the sort! ...Barring stands, of course. I’ll take your bet...And I hope that coin is made of all-natural materials.”

D’Arby snapped his fingers.

“Good! Then...let us begin!”

He flipped the coin into the air.

Dr. Ferdinand sighed, scratching at his slice of hair as he stared off absent-mindedly into the desert.

“(I know I’ll win anyways...this just feels like a waste of time.)”

The coin finally hit the table.

D’Arby whistled.

“Ooooh...would you look at that?”

The coin…

...Came up tails.

D’Arby snickered. “You did say you called heads earlier, correct? Then...that means you lost.”

Dr. Ferdinand looked back at him.

“...Oh, what, I lost? How sad...then, I have to give up my soul or whatever…?”

“Indeed. You’re a smart one.”

Suddenly, [ Osiris ] , D’Arby’s stand, burst out from behind him, coin-tipped fingers being thrust forward to take hold of Dr. Ferdinand’s soul.

Dr. Ferdinand watched the gambler's stand come out, eyes wide, and gulped.

“...P-Perhaps I have made a mistake.”

Chapter Text

Weather Report stood in the courtyard of Budogaoka High School with his hands on his hips.

It’s cold...though, he should have expected that. It is the middle of the night, after all.

Not a single person would be awake at this hour. This town doesn’t seem like the kind for midnight revelers.

He took off his fluffy hat, running his fingers through his long hair to get a few of the tangles out before putting it back on.

“Yo, Report-kun.”

He turned around.

It was Akira Otoishi. Same shock of purple hair, same scar/tattoo over his left eye, and same smug rockstar aura.

“...You’re still in your prisoner’s clothes.”

“What, you think I’d bother going home and grabbing my outfit? Besides, the Speedwagon guys already confiscated all my cool shit...including my fuckin’ guitar.”

He crossed his arms.

“I didn't even steal that thing…”

Weather nodded.


Akira stretched and yawned.

“...Er, wait, how did you escape?”

“Come on, it was pretty simple. Steal the keys from one of the pretty young guards when she wasn’t looking, wait until night, unlock my door, get the hell out of dodge. I just didn't escape because”

He made two curves down his face and between his eyes using his fingers, and then gestured like he was slicking his hair forward.

“Ah, Josuke and Okuyasu. I see.”

“...Alright, it’s good that ‘you see’, but what the hell are we actually doin’? You said you wanted me to look for the arrows with you, but how am I supposed to know where more arrows are? I’m not an expert, I didn't take archaeology in middle school.”

Weather Report took a deep breath.

“Stand users attract other stand users. So...I figured it would be the same for stand arrows. The arrows would attract other arrows, right?”


Akira quickly shut his hands over his mouth, realizing he just yelled.

“...I-I mean...that’s all you’re going off of…?”

“Don’t worry. I don’t know what it is, but I can sense it...another arrow is in this town, lurking somewhere. We just have to find it.”

“Yeah, let me get the tarot cards and divining rods out, smart guy.”

“Sarcasm won’t get us anywhere, Otoishi-san...let’s hurry. I promised to have you back in the prison by dawn, after all.”

He gestured for Akira to follow, heading out of the courtyard and leaping over the walls.

Akira just groaned and wondered what he was getting himself into as he followed after him.

“So, what do you wanna do for a living?”


The two had made their way into the residential area, walking discreetly behind the houses and speaking in low volumes.

Every so often, Weather or Akira would peer into one of the windows, trying to see if there was anything interesting inside.

The most they spotted was a family’s cat sleeping on a couch.

So, the most they could do was light conversation.

“I said, what do you want to do for a living? Me, I’ve only got one thing on my mind. An ultra super guitarist, the likes of which the world has never seen. I’m aiming to be just as good, if not better, than the likes of Jimi Hendrix or Jeff Beck! So...what about you?”

“...I don’t know.”

“...You don’t know? How old are you?”

“I don’t know.”



“...I mean, you look pretty young...I’d estimate early 30s, maybe. I’m 19, myself.”

“You’re 19? You look like you’re in your 20s.”

“Then I guess we’re both a little fucked in terms of age and looks, huh?”

“I suppose.”



“...Why do you want these arrows, anyways?”

“I lost my stand...If I get pierced by one, I’m hoping I can get it back.”

“You LOST a stand? Damn, that sounds pathetic...what’d it do?”

“I don’t remember.”





“You suck at conversation, Report-kun.”

“Wait...I feel something.”

They had been walking for quite a while, now...they were over at the northeast section of Morioh, for the more upper-class citizens’ housing. It was definitely a little harder to not be noticed here, but they were gonna keep looking until it was dawn.

It was around 2 a.m. now...but finally, Weather sensed something.

“In here.”

He quietly stalked towards one particular looked somewhat old-fashioned, but he was getting an intensely strong aura from the inside.

“...So, what do we do now? Do we break in?”



Weather Report very slowly opened one of the windows, whispering to Akira.

“(Be very quiet. Someone is sleeping in this house.)”


Eventually, he finally managed to open the window all the way.

Painfully slowly, he crawled into the home, looking around. The moon gave off just barely enough light to have a vague idea of where the two were.

Akira crawled in after him.

He looked around. Traditional Japanese...Akira was always into more Western themes, himself. It just sucks that he has to import most of his CDs…

Weather looked back at him, whispering.

“(Search the drawers. It’s in this room.)”

Akira gave an ‘OK’ sign and started searching.

He walked over to a desk and bent down, squinting at the objects on top.

Family photos...trophies? 

He moved his finger over to feel one of the trophies.

Cheap, thin metal. Must’ve been from school. What kind of weirdo keeps his old school trophies?

Akira opened up the drawer underneath the desk.

“(A book…)”

He opened said book.

...Oh, right, it’s pitch black. He can’t read for shit. And it’d be a little too dangerous turning on his stand right now...better just put this thing back.

As he moved to replace the book, his pinky (still sore from when Josuke broke it) rubbed against something hard and plastic.


He felt around a little more. 

It...kind of feels like...

Akira turned around.

“(Hey, Report-kun, did y--)”
He was interrupted by a loud ‘thump’.

Weather, who was in the middle of rummaging through a few old boxes of photos, looked up and around, as did Akira.



...Nothing. False alarm.

Weather glanced back at Akira and shook his head. Nothing.

He walked over to the other set of drawers and opened up the top one as Akira turned back around, sighing.

...There it was.

A stand arrow...and...a bow? 

Weather dove his hand in, grabbing the stand arrow.

He...almost can’t believe it.

He’s holding it...right his hands!

He turned back around to Akira.


...Akira was preoccupied with something.

One of the photos had fallen over. 

“...(This must’ve been what made that thump sound. Gotta make it look like no one’s been here, so…)”

He put the photo back up.

Come to think of it, his eyes have gotten a little more adjusted to the darkness by now.

He can see who’s in the photo…

...It’s a little boy with a serious look on his face and blonde hair.

It was then he noticed the photo starting to expand and ignite.


Akira threw the photo across the room, creating a massive explosion in the corner of the room.

He stumbled backwards a little, bumping into the drawers and knocking over a few more things from atop its surface, while Weather shielded himself with the arrow.

After the dust cleared (remarkably quickly, might I add), Weather Report looked back over to Akira. He was panting.

“...Hhh...hhh...hhh…s-shit...t-that was…”

“Excuse me.”

The two men snapped their heads towards one of the doors to the outside of the house.

A tall man with a sharp face and blonde hair in a simple, white v-neck sleep shirt and shorts opened the door, staring at the two of them with a mix of annoyance and tired boredom.

He closed the door behind him, rubbing one of his eyes.

“...It would appear I have company.”

He looked over to Weather Report.

“...And it would also appear said company are burglars. Nevertheless…”

A large, imposing cat-like stand emerged from behind him.

“I must eliminate anything and everything that hinders my night’s worth of sleep.”

Akira gulped, breaking into a cold sweat.

Weather Report just gripped the arrow, mentally preparing himself for a few seconds…

...Before plunging it deep into his chest.

Let’s go back a little bit, to around 6 p.m..

Blackmore and his translator, only known as “D”, had exited the bus and were walking through the small town, Blackmore almost folded in on himself with how anxious he was.

This was incredibly unfamiliar entirely different country, with everyone speaking a language he didn't know...he was very scared, to say the least.

D looked back to Blackmore.

“Are you hungry?”

“...H-Huh? Oh...yes...I-I suppose so.”

D pointed over to a nearby restaurant.

The banner above the door read ‘Trattoria Trussardi’ .

“There’s an Italian restaurant over there.”


“Do you want to eat there?”

“...Oh, I’m so~orry, that’s fine…”

D gestured for Blackmore to follow him as he strolled into the restaurant.

The two of them entered, looking around.

Brightly-lit...and covered in Italian.

Not much better than Japanese...but at least Blackmore could attempt to make out what the decorations said in English.


Blackmore yelped as a person came out from the back kitchen.

A tall, handsome young man with blue eyes and light brown hair in a chef’s outfit covered in ‘T’s. It was clear he was not from around here...and was almost certainly Italian.

He bowed, smiling.

“My name is Tonio Trussardi. Welcome to my restaurant! Please, take a seat.”

...He spoke in English.

“Y-You speak English too?”

“Ah, of course! I am from Italy, and I have traveled the world looking for the most optimal place to settle my business...I picked this town for its selection of fish and agricultural goods. Are you visiting?”

Blackmore opened his mouth.

“Yes. I’m his translator.”

“Ah, vedo, vedo. Well, please, have a seat, you two.”

D and Blackmore sat down at a table, Blackmore shuddering in his raincoat that had now become rather cold.

Tonio approached the table, putting his hands out towards Blackmore.

“Signore , would you please give me your hands for a moment? This is how I operate without a menu.”

“No menu…?”

Blackmore hesitated for a second before putting out his hands. 

Tonio took hold of them gently, rubbing his palms and getting a feel for the shape of the appendage.

“I got very little sleep last night. Perhaps...three hours or so? You also have a slight migraine, and high blood pressure…”

Blackmore gulped. How did he…?

He took hold of the other hand.

“...In addition, you appear to have weak bones. Have you been getting enough calcium in your diet?”


“Ah, never mind...This gives me a good idea of what to cook.”

Tonio looked over to D.

“What about you, sir?”

“Not hungry.”

“Capisco. Is sweet tea alright for your drinks?”

“Yes, that should be fine…”

“Then I shall be right back!”

Tonio shot a grin at Blackmore before turning on his heel and moving to exit.

“...Oh, and one more thing.”

He looked back at Blackmore.

“...Signore , if you would be so kind...please remove that mask while you’re inside. It’s a matter of politeness, if you understand... Grazie.”

Blackmore looked up.

He...He could see it?

[ Catch The Rainbow ] ...He must have accidentally activated it in order to feel safer in Japan.

He deactivated it consciously, looking up at Tonio with that seemingly perpetually sad look in his eyes. 

Tonio smiled.

“Thank you, signore.”

He exited into the kitchen, disappearing behind the dividing wall.

Blackmore laid his chin on his folded arms, sighing.

How is he ever supposed to find...Who was it? It was Josuke...Jotaro...uh...Ok...Okacho? No...Someone starting with O...Uh...s-someone else...Ro…

Blackmore frowned.

Dammit...he can’t even remember. At least he has those photos in his pocket to remind him.

But...How is he supposed to find so many people in such a big town…?

Chapter Text


Following the intense fight against Squalo and Tiziano, Bruno, Narancia, and the rest of the gang had migrated towards the nearest airport.

Unfortunately, however...they had been stopped by two security guards.


The guard swung his arm towards the departing gate.

Bruno just ignored him and looked over towards Narancia.

“ you see any sign of pursuers?”

“Calm down, I got this. Looks like we were right...Venezia’s totally empty. Nothing to report...not even any suspicious breathing within 100 meters! There’s still those rabbits on the airport lawn, though. How can they stand the noise if their ears are so big…?”

The guard took out his firearm, shouting at Bruno.


Bruno sighed.

“Just my luck. Are you busy right now? Would you mind answering a quick question? This is a big airport, and I’m somewhat new to the area, so I’m not sure where things are…”

He looked off towards a passing shuttle. 

“...I’d like to steal and airplane. Do you know where I could find one?”


The guard attempted to aim his firearm…

...But found the firearm was actually embedded into his wrists, using zippers not visible to him.


Bruno gently escorted the guard towards a nearby pole.

“Could you take about four steps over here? And watch your step...Don’t worry, we’ll compensate you. We aren’t looking for a passenger plane. A private jet, or even a cargo plane would be ideal. Would they be nearby? Or somewhere else in the airport?”

The guard looked back down at his hands, silent.

He was somehow looped around the pole, unable to move his hands, still embedded in the gun.


“Hey. Buccellati.”

Bruno turned around.

Anasui had [ Diver Down ] with its arm plunged deep into the other guard’s chest, fingers clasped around his heart. Scattered, disassembled gun parts littered the ground around him.

“The guard here says they’re over there.”

He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

Bruno smiled and walked away from the guard.

“Molte grazie.”  

“Wh--H-Hey! Get back here!”

Anasui re-assembled the gun to encompass the guard’s hands and feet, holding him in place as Diver Down pulled its hand out.

The group was back on the move, walking towards one of the private jets.

Magenta Magenta snickered and sniffled up a trail of snot, looking through his binoculars as he sat atop the roof of a building in a neighborhood outside the airport.

“Over there...I can see those bastards! They’re sneakin’ into...Those modern airplane things! Wekapipo, I told you they’d be used a ton! They make horses obsolete!”

Wekapipo sipped his tea as he crouched on the roof next to him, sighing.

Fugo stood a small distance behind them, looking off towards the airport and thinking over his choices.

Magenta looked back to him, waving the binoculars around.

“Hneeh...hey, payin’ attention? They’re getting on that plane, over in the...the-the plane building! Go get ‘em!”


Fugo squinted at the far-off airport.

“...Th-There’s no way I can make it there before they get on the airport, Mage--”


“Mr. Magenta Magenta, sir. Not even with a car or something…”


Magenta stood back up.

“Are you...disobeying an order from us? A-I-y---”

He thumped his chest, gesturing to himself and Wekapipo.

“US?! The guys who so generously offered a way for you to redeem yourself to the boss? You’ve got a lot of balls for someone so skinny! It’s no trouble to get over there fast enough...just friggin’ get over there!”

“I’m telling you, I can’t! They’re heading towards the plane right now!”

Magenta tossed the binoculars over his shoulders and over the edge of the roof.

“Of course you can’t, you’re spending all this time yammerin’ and blabberin’! Just quit arguing and get over there!”



Magenta reached forward and slapped Fugo across the face, leaving a visible red mark on his cheek.

Fugo was silent for a second, bringing his hand up to his cheek.

...Hot. And stinging.


Fugo clenched his hand into a fist and lunged forward, delivering a nasty right hook to Magenta Magenta.


Magenta Magenta was sent stumbling backwards, almost falling off the roof before he steadied himself. His nose was bleeding.

Fugo panted as he held his hand in a fist, staring at Magenta.

The snotty-nosed man wiped away some of the blood. 

“ fuckin’ just lost all chance you had of getting on the boss’ good graces! I’ll make sure he PERSONALLY executes you!”

“You know what I think? I think...No, I’m SURE you guys don’t work for Passione! Nobody in the gang would hire such--such...such an IDIOT like you! You guys just...used my fear of the boss to try and get me to kill friends!”

Wekapipo finished his tea and stood up.

“He found us out, Magenta Magenta. Should we dispose of him?”

“S-SHUT UP, WEKAPIPO, DAMMIIIIIT! I mean...Ugh, fine! You aren’t on our list, but chances are you’ll go back with your friends if we letcha go free anyways...and besides, what’s a little murder? I’ll consider it...practice for our other targets.”

Fugo lowered his fist.


“Your FRIENDS, numbskull! Yeah, we aren’t a part of that gang or whatever...but we ARE on our way to murder them!”

The teenager trembled, lowering his head with his fists clenched tight as could be.


“Yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it, kid?”

Fugo was visibly shaking with barely-contained rage. 

He snapped his head up, staring at the two of them with eyes full of hatred and anger.


Fugo hopped backwards off of the roof, reaching his hands out to grab onto the edge and swing himself into an open window, retreating into the building.

Magenta Magenta scrambled forward, leaning off of the roof’s edge.


Magenta continued screaming over the roof’s edge into the street below, before he was interrupted by something.

A dead bird.

It fell from the sky, splatting onto the roof and tumbling down the incline until it unceremoniously hit the road below.


Magenta Magenta turned around.

There was...a stand there.

And a stand that really, really looks like one that neither of them would want to be around.

Hunched over. Drooling. Panting. 

A cloud of smoke around it.

[ Purple Haze ] had appeared on the roof.

Magenta Magenta instantly whipped around.

Purple Haze stared at him with intense, yellow eyes.

“...Ooh. Shit.”

He slammed his hands down flat on the roof, his own stand emerging and wrapping itself protectively around him.

[ 20th Century Boy ] !”

The unstable stand lunged forward towards Magenta Magenta, delivering a solid punch.


He was punched straight between the eyes, one of the capsules on the stand’s knuckles breaking open and releasing a thick, murky fog.

Magenta Magenta watched the fog disperse around him as the attack was redirected and grounded, spreading the impact evenly along the roof and rendering him unharmed.

As long as he stays in 20th Century Boy , he’ll be safe from whatever that fog is…

...But how long is he willing to stay here…?


“W-Wait a minute, guys! I just realized something huge! We’ve been talking about stealing a plane this whole time, but...I mean, well, maybe it’s just me...but I think we’ve been forgetting something kinda important!”

Narancia shouted, frowning.

“How the hell are we supposed to fly a plane without a pilot?! How could we forget something so important when we’re this far on?! None of us have ever flown a plane before, right?!”

Abbacchio dismissively waved his hand.

“Calm your ass, Narancia, you’re the only one who’s forgotten.”

He kicked the door and it opened up, Abbacchio ducking his head in.

[ Moody Blues ] manifested and sat itself in the cockpit, the numbers on its forehead ticking backwards.

“You’re right that none of us know how to fly a plane...but someone ONCE piloted this plane before. Maybe no more than a day ago...there was a pilot in this cockpit that Moody Blues can take the form of!”

Narancia’s mouth was left agape.

“...Y-You’re seriously gonna replay it with Moody Blues …?”

Outside, Giorno was rubbing the side of the plane with Bruno at his side, while Mista and Anasui stood steadfast, watching for intruders.

The blonde-haired teenager looked back at his capo.

“I can’t sense any trace of life energy on this plane...that means...well, I’ll keep checking, but it means there’s no life on this plane at all...not even a cockroach or a fly.”

“Good! Then, we’ll take this plane!”

Bruno shouted back at Mista and Anasui.

“Mista! Anasui! You too, Giorno! Don’t let anybody...or, no, anything near this plane! Once we take off, we’ll be cruising at up to 10,000 meters in the air, and at over 800 kilometers per hour! No stand or stand user has the speed, power, or range to keep up with us once we’re airborne! Our SARDEGNA! Flight time is just under two hours!”

Mista and Anasui both gave thumbs ups, while Giorno just nodded to him as Bruno entered the plane.

Mista sighed, looking out at the horizon of the runway as Narancia poked his head out of the airplane, radar on.

“...Yaknow, Anasui, what’s Florida like? All the stuff I see that’s filmed there makes it look almost like a tropical paradise...Disneyland, swamps, palm trees, crocodiles...don’tcha get tired of all the cool scenery after a while?”

“I guess so...I mean, Florida has a lot of other neat things apart from what you described. It also has Universal Studios, Seaworld...Er, swamps...alligators…Okay, it mostly is just that.”

“Really? Sounds like there’s a lot of amusement parks.”

“There get tired after going three or four times. It just becomes another landmark. It’s the same with how Italians view the colosseum in Rome or the Leaning Tower, right? Tourists go crazy over it, but you’re just like ‘eh, whatever’, right?”

“Heheh, yeah, damn, I guess you’re right! Maybe I should go and take a visit!”

“Ugh, god, don’t. It’s humid as fuck. It’s like living in a sauna 24/7.”

Giorno just watched them converse, listening to the conversation.


The two guys looked over to Narancia.

“Something’s on the’s coming closer! We got someone walking down the runway!”

He looked back over down the runway, pointing.

“Mista! Anasui! Front and to your left! There’s someone walking! WE GOT INCOMIIING!”

Mista and Anasui whipped back around, Mista pulling out his revolver and Anasui getting ready to call out Diver Down .

...There was…

...Er...It was…

...C-Certainly someone that was walking down the runway.

A very ugly, freaky-looking someone that had a head that looked like nothing but a fatty lump coming up from between their shoulders.

Giorno looked up.

“A pursuer…?! Narancia, do you see anyone else?”

“Nobody else in range, at least. Any further and they wouldn’t be able to catch us before we left.”

Mista shouted at the strange man.

“STOP RIGHT THERE! Sorry, but I’m not lettin’ anyone lay a finger on this plane! You could be a saint or Jesus Christ himself for all I care, but I’ll still shoot you full of holes! No saint would show his ugly mug around here anyways...If you know what’s good for you, turn around, keep walking, and get the hell off the runway!”

The man simply kept walking.

Anasui glanced over to Mista.

“I’ll cover for you if he deflects any bullets.”


Immediately, Anasui started sprinting towards the man as Mista shot one bullet.

The bullet dug itself into the man’s leg, spurting out blood as he fell to his knees, wounded.

Anasui slid around to the side, him and Mista flanking the man.

“Dig the wax outta your ears and listen up! This is your FINAL WARNING! I’ll let you go. Just turn around and crawl away, and I won’t kill you.”

The man groaned and huffed, but continued to crawl forward.

Narancia shouted from the airplane.

“He isn’t stopping, Mista! He’s slowed to a crawl, but he’s still coming at us!”

Then, a figure emerged out from the man’s side.




Mista fired several times, and the small, yellow Sex Pistols rode on the bullets, kicking them and ricocheting them back and forth through the man’s head and quote-unquote “neck” with high-pitched ‘yeeeee-haaaww’s. 

After the man fell limp on the floor, Anasui lunged forward and sent Diver Down out, the stand digging its head into his neck and forcibly tearing out one of his cervical vertebrae, tossing it out behind him.

Narancia cheered. “He isn’t breathing anymore! He’s dead!”

Mista blew the smoke away from his gun, holding it up defensively.

“Giorno! Narancia! Anasui! Keep your eyes open, he might’ve brought friends!”

Chapter Text

“Here it is...J-18, Emanuar, Ungalo. Hospitalized for being in a vegetative state induced by depression...Gosh. T-That’s pretty harsh…”

Jolyne shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t even know who this guy is! Maybe he was some guy that Weather and Anasui beat up while we were dealing with Rykiel.”

Gwess chimed in from behind her.

“I remember seeing his name in a newspaper from the prison! He was in the hospital for a drug overdose and threatened a priest with a pair of scissors before running away!”

“A priest, huh…?”

Miu Miu just looked at her nails, sighing.

Emporio put his hand up to shush the three of them before slowly opening the door.

Of course...there was Ungalo there.

He was sitting up, but his head was slumped to the side, eyes dazed and fogged over as drool slowly trickled out of his mouth.

He was still even dressed in the same clothes he was when he was recovered: a purple beanie, a green t-shirt decorated in vein-like designs, and blue slacks.

Emporio sidled in, approaching him.

“...Uh...M-Mister Ungalo?”

No response.

Emporio waved his hand in front of Ungalo’s face.


“(Gosh, he’s really out…)” He turned back to the door.

“You guys can come in, now.”

Jolyne, Gwess, and Miuccia funneled in one-by-one, Jolyne cracking her neck and looking at Ungalo.

“...Jeez, I dunno if this guy can help us. He looks kinda...dead.”

Gwess shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

As if on cue, Ungalo suddenly breathed in deep through, nostrils. His nose was kinda flat, so it was mostly just nostrils.

His eyes swirled for a second before looking straight at Jolyne as he began to mumble.

“...G...Guh...G...G-Girls…? In... m-my hospital room…?”

Jolyne squinted at him. 


Ungalo suddenly snapped himself out of it, thrusting his hands up in fists while whooping.


Gwess stifled her laughter while Miu Miu just crossed her arms.

Jolyne sighed. Great. One of these guys.

“...Don’t get too excited, bucko. We visited him right before we visited you.”

He looked back down at her.

“Whuh?! Then...Wait, huh?! You...You ‘visited’ him...d-does that mean--(oh shit oh shit oh shit) you’ll be...ulp, ‘visiting’ me, too?!”

“...We’re in your room right now, aren’t we?”

“...A-All three of you? At the same tiiiiiime?!”


Jolyne flicked him between the eyes.

Ungalo flinched and rubbed the area, groaning and sitting back down.

“Ugh...fuck. Worth a shot. So what the hell’re y--er, I mean, ahem...What’re you three beauties doing in my hospital room?”

Miu Miu stuck her tongue out.

“Well...funny thing. We need your help. Can’t say with what, we just need allies right now.”

Ungalo scratched the plaque off his front teeth.

“Uh huh...hmmm...yeah, I hear ya…”

There was a break of silence.

“...So are you going to help us, or not?”

“...Oh, you’re asking ME? Hmm...yeah, I cooouuuuuld help you girls out...oooooor I could stay here and be nice and comfy pretending to be catatonic for the free housing and food.”

Gwess tilted her head.

“Don’t you have to pay medical bills?”


Ungalo gulped.

“...Oh, fuck. You’re right. Eh, whatever, fine, I’ll go with you all…”

The group threw their hands up in celebration.

Ungalo held up his index finger.


Everyone groaned, Jolyne muttering out a tired “What now?”.

“...Let me, uh...hmm, well, how should I put this...pretty sensitive fuckin’ topic, yaknow…”

“Spit it out, already, junkie!”

“Let me see your tits.”


“Then I guess I won’t help you. Welp, sorry, worth a shot! See y’all around, don’t forget to write, bye bye.” Ungalo snickered and waved his hands, his smile showing off his crooked teeth.

Jolyne scowled down at him, then sent out one of [ Stone Free ] ’s strings to wrap around Ungalo’s neck, constricting it.

“Here’s a better deal: You come along and help us, or I strangle you until you’re knocked unconscious.”


Ungalo’s eyes darted around, looking for any image or piece of fiction he could call a character out from.

The closest thing was the posters on the walls of doctors showing off diagrams and internal schematics of the human body.

A doctor stepped out of one of the posters and held up a model of the human jaw, smiling with pearly-white teeth.

“Hey, young woman! Do you take care of your teeth? You should make sure to brush in circular motions, not back and forth, for maximum plaque removal.”

“I’m in the middle of strangling someone, doctor, go piss up a rope!”

Ungalo coughed and grit his teeth.


Jolyne loosened the string. The doctor returned to his place in the poster.

Ungalo held his throat, coughing and hacking while he rubbed the area and sighed.

“...I’ll come with you guys. I don’t have a ride, though, so I hope you guys have a car.”

Jolyne looked over at Miuccia.

Miu Miu sneered at her and sighed.

“Fine. But if my car smells like piss and drugs when we come out, I’m suing all three of you.”

Gwess frowned. “(W-Why am I included…?)”

Ungalo rolled his shoulder and got up out of bed, sighing and clapping his hands.

“Alright. Let’s get a move on, folks. I call the middle seat between string lady and thickness over there.”

Jolyne pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes.

“Yare yare dawa...give me a fuckin’ break…”

Miraschon was in the bathroom.

She already did her business, but she felt it would be a little bit of a waste to not at least see what Ms. Fancy-Schmancy Head Guard’s got in her bathroom.

The bathroom itself was squeaky-clean, with a nice yellow mat at the foot of the shower.

She scratched her hair and wiped the grease off on her clothes, opening up her medicine cabinet and digging through it.

“Let’s see...headache medicine, painkillers, makeup...Ooh, takin’ that...tampons...couple extra bars of soap…”

She yawned.

“Man, this is boring. There isn’t even anything cool I can steal...oh well. Still means I’m stealing from a rich girl.”

She grabbed a couple bars of soap and smuggled them into her clothing, closing the medicine cabinet.

...It was then that she noticed something that wasn’t there before.

It was...a small gold chain, with a cross on the end.

“...Hey, I remember that! That’s the cross I stole from the priest...I remember he slammed my face into the corner of a table after that and took it back...but, why’s it here?”

Miraschon eyed the chain for a few seconds before smirking.

“Heh, well...not much point in letting it go to waste, right? Guess it’s mine yet again, and with no priest to take it baaack~”

She grabbed the chain, holding it up and admiring its sheen in the bathroom mirror.

“Humans must sacrifice in order to progress...or...are you going to retrieve that which you believe to be yours?”

A male voice had rung out in the bathroom.

“The hell…?”

Miraschon whipped around, and yanked the cat’s-paw patterned shower curtains down off of the rod.

There was...a stand there!

A tall, imposing thing with an emotionless, metal face, a quilted red torso, and flared-out ankles.


She shuddered.

The was seeping into her body and traveling up her torso, through her clothes.

She reared back for a second and raised her leg up, delivering a roundhouse kick to the side of the thing’s head.

It almost certainly bruised her ankle and foot, but it also succeeded in knocking the thing into pieces in the tub.

“Ahhhh, s-shit, that hurt...but ANSWER ME! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

The pieces in the tub began to speak as they reformed.

“Let’s play it fair...a stand battle requires at least some degree of fairness, even if that means divulging your weakness...You would know about that, wouldn’t you, Miraschon?”

The chain exploded out into a blue, plastic film that engulfed her body, making her unable to breath as she stumbled around the bathroom, bumping into things and gritting her teeth.

“In order to pull out the full potential of your stand’s must know that ‘cowardice’ does not equate with ‘strength’. My weakness...Miraschon Carmen-Maria...Is purification. Wash away your sins with cleansing water. It’s fine if you choose not to believe me...but it’s the truth. Wash yourself with clean water, and you will be ‘freed’...freed from the burdens of what you sacrificed. Even if that sacrifice...was one that you so truthfully believed was rightfully yours.”

Miraschon grit her teeth, scrambling over to the sink.


Lang Rangler, on the outside of the bathroom, was busy watching a movie.

The characters on the screen appeared to be on a space station, the main character being a psychiatrist played by George Clooney.

He was enraptured by the movie, watching it like a little kid sees their idols perform onstage.

“This movie is awesome...though, I wish it had more space stuff in it. It’s just a lot of romance and horror and shit. C’mon, I wanna see the stars and planets and shit!”

He sighed, leaning back and cracking his neck.

But...there was something behind his head that he hit while leaning back.

“The fuck…”

He reached behind him and pulled it out.

It was a ratty, old messenger bag with a single strap, numerous holes in it, and a few space-themed stickers.

“...This...This is my old bag from when I was in elementary school...why the hell is it here?! I lost it in the river!”

The bag merged into his arm, sliding up its length slowly.


“It would appear that I have two opponents…”

Lang snapped his head back around, looking in the direction of the voice.

It was that salvation army guy! He was standing right in the middle of the living room, staring at Lang Rangler with that dead stare in his eyes.

“...In the interest of fairness, I’ll say this: You can negate my stand’s abilities with water. Miraschon already knows this as well. However, as long as you’re in [ Civil War ] ’s will always be haunted by the things you left behind.”

The bag sprouted out into the same plastic film that Miraschon had to deal with, as he stood up, screaming. 


Jumpin’ Jack Flash flew out of Lang Rangler, using the whirling containers on its wrists to fire out several small scraps of metal left over from his fight with Jolyne and Weather Report.

The soldier rolled out of the way, sliding along the ground.

“URrghh--!! (S-Shit, I gotta get out of this thing...the bar…!! I can smash those bottles open to get some water on me! If I can get rid of this, then I can get my suit on and I can use Jumpin’ Jack Flash ’s zero-gravity attack…)” 

He grit his teeth and looked off to the bar.

“(I just hope I can fuckin’ get there before I end up suffocating…)”

Chapter Text

Gwess’ full name is Gwess Amanda Mauricia.

She is 5’7”, weighs 123 lb, and is 22 years old.

Her birthday is June 9th.

Gwess grew up in a middle-class home in Poinciana, Florida with her single mother, Carlisle Mauricia, and her older brother, Giordano. He was around 5 years older than her.

Ever since birth, Gwess has loved animals. 

Her mother was a relatively average woman, but she was weak-willed. She had little confidence in her own abilities and often failed to provide for Gwess acceptably.

Giordano was the person who cared the most about her. He was stern, serious, and appeared to have almost no emotions apart from a stoic, constant admiration for his little sister.

He intimidated her mother into buying her dozens, if not hundreds of small pets. 

Kittens, puppies, birds, fish, mice, hamsters, et cetera.

Within the month she received them, Gwess would end up accidentally killing them by asking too much of them and becoming frustrated when they weren’t able to follow her commands.

No matter how many of them she ended up killing, Giordano forced her mother to buy more.

She even wanted to be a pet veterinarian when she grew up.

At the age of 16, when her brother was 21, she stole pet supplies from a local convenience store and assaulted the clerk, putting her in jail for a few months. However, shortly after being placed in jail, she was put on parole.

Around a few months after being put on parole, the then-17 Gwess and then-22 Giordano were sitting at home and conversing about their aspirations for romance.

Suddenly, her brother broke into a disjointed, continuous speech.

“Gwess...ever since you were born. Ever since I saw your milky, nubile skin as a newborn...your smile...your body ...I’ve loved you. I’ve loved you so, so much…”

He talked at length about how much he loved Gwess.

Not just as a sister.



Giordano then attempted to rape his sister, screaming about how he loved her more than anything else in the world.

She fought back and was able to resist him, but in the process the two inflicted several wounds, cuts, and gashes on each other, Gwess wielding a kitchen knife.

In the struggle, Gwess knocked over a candle and ended up burning the house down, running away from the flaming home. 

Her mother escaped unharmed, but her brother also managed to escape the burning building. 

Giordano dialed 911.

“Hello?! I-I have an emergency, my d-dear, dear sister just tried to kill me...s-she’s cut me up pretty bad, I’m seriously wounded...She burned the house down, p-please, just send people here! Save me!”

Emergency services arrived on the spot and arrested Gwess.

She was charged with 12 years in Green Dolphin Street Prison for arson, attempted murder, and parole violation.

Miraschon’s full name is Miraschon Aurelia Carmen-Maria.

She is 5’5”, weighs 122 lb, and is 25 years old.

Her birthday is January 5th.

Miraschon was raised in a lower-class family stricken by poverty in Tampa, Florida with her parents. 

Her father, Nutrizio Carmen, was nothing but a lazy, deadbeat alcoholic that spent his money on booze and laid around the house doing nothing.

Her mother, Milan Maria was the breadwinner of the family. However, what little money she made that wasn’t taken by Nutrizio for alcohol, she spent at slot machines in casinos. She was hopelessly addicted to gambling.

With two parents addicted to two vices, Miraschon was left to fend for herself.

She was awful at academics growing up: Her report cards were often a straight line of Ds and Fs.

However, she was an expert at manipulation and sleight-of-hand. She was taking bets on everything in the courtyard: Who would win the latest Marlins game, which teacher would have a substitute next, who would win in a fist-fight…

The money that she made out of these bets went into buying herself food and amenities…

...At first.

Eventually, she would fall victim to the gambling dragon as well.

She moved out of her parents’ house at 23, moving into a small, dirty hovel of an apartment.

Miraschon was still able to pay the bare minimum for rent and get what little food she needed, but most of her funds were still spent on gambling.

What she won from gambling, she put back into gambling.

However...this lifestyle eventually caught up to her.

Only a few months after moving out, she found that she had no money. Nothing to gamble, and nothing to use to buy basic survival necessities.

Seeing no other solution, she acquired a balaclava and a kitchen knife, going into a store and stealing over 700 dollars’ worth of products. 

She was arrested soon after, just after walking out the door with the bag full of items.

Miraschon was placed in Green Dolphin Street Prison for 8 years for armed robbery.

Lang Rangler’s full name is Langston Hudson Rangler.

He is 5’11”, weighs 145 lb, and is 24 years old.

His birthday is May 24th.

Lang Rangler was born in a log cabin out in the outskirts of Pensacola, Florida to a family living in poverty.

His only family was his single mother of advanced age, Lee Rangler, and her three cats. She was already missing most of her teeth, and due to a genetic defect, had a beard on her chin.

She was often regarded as the ‘crazy old lady’ off in the boonies of Florida that nobody wanted to associate with.

Lang Rangler was sent to school, and growing up, he was consistently the object of ridicule for everyone around him. He was invariably known as ‘the poor kid’, going to school with no supplies but a ripped-up messenger bag over his shoulder. 

Despite this, he was a genius. An A student.

He had aspirations of seeing the stars. Of being an astronaut.

He easily breezed through school despite the other children’s jeering cries of ‘freak’ and ‘loser’.

In middle school, his genius made him reckless. Agitated.

He would get into fights with other children, and one day when walking back to his home, he was accosted by three fellow students.

“Hey, Lame Rangler. Whatcha doin’? Going home to your ugly hag of a mom?”

“What, you too afraid to talk back? Are you mute too, dumbass?”

“Heh, hey, guys...I heard Rangler here wants to go into space someday...whaddya say we give him a little test to see if he’s worthy? After all, most astronauts start their training...underwater.”

Coming at him all at once, the three children took hold of him and threw him into the nearby river.

He was drifting along the water, knocked unconscious by a blow to the head.

Lang Rangler did not surface until the following morning.

He had lost his messenger bag into the flowing water.

The next day, the same three children approached him.

Without saying a single word to any of them, he grabbed a few nearby rocks and smashed them across the sides of all three of their heads.

He bashed their heads in, cracking their skulls open and attacking until their heads were nothing more than red mush.

Langston threw the rocks into the river, washing away the fingerprints.

Nobody ever found out that it was him.

He continued through school into college, where he was majoring in astrophysics, wanting to get a job at the Kennedy Space Center. 

Despite his lofty ambitions, however, he still lived with his now-sickly and dying mother in her cramped log cabin.

He was miserable, often having to scrounge through trash cans to find food.

One day, a female professor confronted him about a test he had failed.

He was up until 7 the previous night looking for food to feed his mother, and as such was unable to focus on the test and got a 46%.

“Look at this, Rangler. A 46%. Pathetic...but I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything from someone like you. Someone with such a dirty upbringing as yourself shouldn’t even bother trying to work at the space probably couldn’t even land a job as a janitor! Scum like you should just die so the rest of us can get on with our lives.”

Lang Rangler retaliated violently, taking out a ballpoint pen from her desk and stabbing her 69 times. She was only able to turn the pen around on him once, giving him a permanent scar on his forehead.

He escaped shortly after confirming that she was dead, breaking into her car and driving down the highway.

He was caught before he was able to get out of the city. 

Lang Rangler was placed in Green Dolphin Street Prison for 17 years for hijacking and murder.

Chapter Text

Miu Miu’s full name is Miuccia Prada Miuller.

She is 5’9”, weighs 154 lb, and is 25 years old.

Her birthday is October 17th.

Miuccia was born to a wealthy, upper-class socialite family in St. Augustine whose patriarch, Mario Miuller, was briefly the mayor of.

Her father married her mother, Luna Rossa, because of her looks. She was a supermodel, after all.

Growing up, she was essentially spoiled by her mother, bringing her everything she desired with her money.

She didn't know how to properly raise a child, after all, and her father was always busy with his job.

As such, Miuccia grew up having almost everything and anything she desired.

When her father finally noticed, he was furious at his wife for spoiling his beautiful daughter.

However, he didn't divorce her.

Instead, he decided to take dear little Miu Miu on a trip.

A guided tour of Green Dolphin Street prison.

His intention was for her to see what happens to those who become too lax. Those who are sloppy in their actions, believing everything to cater to their will.

She didn't exactly pick up on the message back then, however.

Instead, what the trip did for her, was spark a love for prison.

It made her sure of what she wanted to be when she grew up: The head guard of Green Dolphin Street Prison.

She wasn’t exactly stellar, per se, in academics: Her average was a B+.

However, her father still managed to talk his way into getting her a base-level guard job at the prison.

She was to start as a basic guard.

Quickly, over the course of a few years, she worked her way up the ranks until she became the head guard of the prison.

She lives in a mansion in a gated community known as Zevon Gardens with her cat, Elvis.

Rykiel’s full name is Rykiel Golgothas Sonja.

He is 5’10”, weighs 134 lb, and is 23 years old.

His birthday is September 26th.

Rykiel’s father is Dio Brando, the charismatic and sensual vampire killed by Jotaro and company in the 1980s.

When Dio met Rykiel’s mother, the Romanian-descended Nathalie Sonja who was wealthy, promiscuous, and traveling the world, she was married to a man named Samuel Likir.

Shortly after impregnating her, Dio momentarily thought to kill her as he had done so many other women.

However...he chose not to.

She was so deprive the world of such a woman would be a waste.

As such, he left her with Rykiel in her womb.

Shortly afterwards, the Romanian family who had been living in Bradenton split up.

Nathalie divorced her spouse, believing that no man could ever stack up to Dio’s splendor and grace.

However, she kept both children.

Rykiel took his mother’s last name, making him Rykiel Sonja.

The other child, Sydney, took his father’s last name, making him Sydney “Sonny” Likir.

Ever since birth, there was something ‘wrong’ with Rykiel.

He was always a nervous, sickly young child prone to panic attacks and high fevers, forcing him to miss a lot of school.

One of his most common complaints was always written off as hallucinations.

Long, white things streaking across his vision.

Only for a split-second.

He was prescribed glasses for a short period for these reasons, but his eyesight was fine.

When he was seven...he saw a recording that changed his life forever.

A recorded VHS tape of the Apollo 11 moon landing. 

He didn't know why, but he was deeply affected by it.

...Why, though? Any monkey could be sent up in a rocket and appear on the moon.

He wouldn’t realize why until much, much later.

His brother, Sonny, was a straight-forward, well-mannered young boy that was mostly autonomous and was little trouble to take care of as he worked towards his dream of being a prison guard.

Nathalie was tired of taking care of Rykiel. 

He was almost in high school now, and he couldn’t even leave the house without being attended by his mother. 

Rykiel suffered from frequent, implacable panic attack through high school, culminating in an attack when he was 16 while taking his final exams.

The emergency services had to come and resuscitate him after he was no longer able to breathe.

It was doctor’s orders that he never attend school again.

He lived with his mother for years after that, unable to take going out in the ‘real world’.

Every time he tried, he was brought back by emergency services on a stretcher.

His brother moved out shortly after the doctor ordered that Rykiel never attend school again, so it was just him and his mother.

She was gone most of the time out drinking and having fun, either way, so he was alone for several years’ worth of his life.

One day, a family friend heard about Rykiel’s plight and gifted him a car and motorcycle out of pity.

Rykiel, over-excited by the show of gratitude and unable to take being holed up in his mother’s home for much longer, instantly took the car out for a drive.

He crashed it five minutes after getting out of the driveway.

Ungalo’s full name is Ungalo Bulsara Emanuar. 

He is 5’4”, weighs 145 lb, and is 23.

Ungalo was born to a single mother named Cristobal Emanuar of Mexican descent in Largo, Florida.

When his mother met the vampire known as Dio Brando, she was beautiful beyond any average man’s wild imagination.

He impregnated her and momentarily decided to kill her, however…

...He sensed that she would not have long to live either way.

So he simply let her be.

For unknown reasons, while she was pregnant, Ungalo’s mother felt intense needs to eat, drink, and smoke, and began to radically decline in health.

He was born 20 weeks premature into a lower-class household.

Ungalo was never very smart. 

In fact, he failed most of his classes throughout his education, and his failings were not helped by the fact that he was constantly berated and ridiculed throughout his childhood for his ugly looks and aforementioned low intelligence. 

His only solace from his hellish life was the bookshelf full of fantasy picture books in his mother’s home and the books he was able to check out at the local library.

When he was 17, a classmate offered him heroin behind the gymnasium, claiming it will make him smarter.

It did the opposite.

The bulk of his high school days were of him fighting and using heroin, his memories blurred by those two factors affecting his mental state.

His mother died when he was 18 from a heart attack and liver cirrhosis.

However, she left everything she owned to her son, the only person she was close to following Dio’s visit.

He lived in her house for a few years afterwards.

Ungalo later overdosed on heroin and was rushed to the hospital.

Chapter Text

“This is good.”

“You sure? I mean, shouldn’t we have checked with the guys at the gate before coming in here?”

“It will be fine. I sent some of the others to take care of that.”

“If you say so...Man, this place sure is fancy.”

“Zevon Gardens is a gated community, after all. I would be surprised if it wasn’t.”

“Guess you’re right, why did you want to come here, anyways?”

“I’m not sure...It’s just...a feeling I had. I was sitting in my office, looking out my window, when I suddenly felt this...urge. I needed to go to Florida. It was if someone close to me was in grave danger and I needed to help them.”

“D’you think that’s why you came here, then?”

“Possibly. I could be wrong...but I have a deep, inner feeling that something is going on concerning members of my family. It drew me to this neighborhood.” 

“You think your ‘deep inner feeling’ could tell me which house it is?”

“House 112, over on the left there.”

“W-Wait, really?!’re really sure about this, huh?”

“I am...Right here will be fine.”

“Alright. Good luck out there. Anything goes wrong, call us, we’ll support you.”

“Understood. Thank you, Mista.”

Chapter Text

Zeppeli, Poco, and Jotaro, with the help of a little hamon courtesy of the Baron, managed to return to the cliff next to the arena where Jonathan was still locked in a desperate battle with Tarkus.

Speedwagon threw his hands up, smiling wide.

“Mr. Zeppeli! Mr. Jotaro! Poco! You’re all safe!”

“Of course we are, Speedwagon. After all, you’re the one who saved us! Perhaps you CAN master hamon, with a little training…”

Speedwagon blushed a little, scratching his voluminous blonde hairstyle.

“Heh, y-you think…? B-But, that’s not the issue at hand! Poco!”

Poco perked up and looked back at Speedwagon.


“I know this is a lot to ask, especially after that surreal encounter...but you must crawl into one of those windows and pull the lever on the other side of the door!”

Poco gulped and trembled for a second.

Zeppeli lightly flicked Speedwagon in the temple. “Speedwagon! Asking a young child to do something so reckless right after our lives were in danger…”

“I’ll...I’ll do it!”


Poco immediately turned on his heel and started to climb up the rocky wall, crawling into the hole.

“(If the zombies reach my town...If that guy can’t beat sister will be in danger! I...I-I have to protect my sister!) DAMMIIIIIT!! S-SISTEEEER! TOMORROW IS RIGHT NOW!”

Poco launched himself in, landing on his feet.

Jonathan, battered and bloody, looked towards the small child, breathing heavily.

“P...P-Poco…?! Y-You can’t…!”

Tarkus, as strong as ever, roared out.


He sprinted towards the child and was preparing to kill him, before Jonathan yanked back on the chain that bound the two of them in combat.

As such, the only thing Tarkus was able to do was deliver a kick to Poco, sending him flying and spurting blood.

Zeppeli and Speedwagon, watching through the windows on the door, gasped.

Jotaro was standing a few feet away, crossing his arms.

Why the hell was there a stand user here, of all places…? I mean, he supposes stand users have been around for a long time...but if they attract each other, then wouldn’t that mean that more would be coming? Are some of these zombies stand users or something?

Jesus, It’s givin’ him a migraine…

Poco, however, got a lucky break. He was kicked directly over to the lever, landing on it and forcing it down with what strength he had.

“I-I’m not afraid of pain anymore...I-I did it…!! (S-Sister...I hope you’re proud of me!)”

Zeppeli burst in, along with Speedwagon and Jotaro.

Jonathan clawed at his collar and looked over to his friends.

“(I-It’s great that Zeppeli and the others are here now...b-but Tarkus hasn’t even shown me the technique he has for this room, and this collar won’t budge at all! I’m...I’m at my limit!)”

Poco was picked up by Speedwagon, delirious and yet proud of himself.

“Don’t worry, Poco! Your wounds aren’t fatal!”

He looked towards Zeppeli.

“Mr. Zeppeli! KICK HIS ASS!”

Jotaro cracked his neck and approached the two burly warriors. 

“It’s about time I got some real fighting in. Let me take care of this creep, Zeppeli.”

William Zeppeli stopped and put out his arm to stop Jotaro.

“No...Mr. Jotaro. It’s time...the prophecy has arrived.”

Jotaro frowned at him.


“This is my such, I must face it alone! Tend to Poco for will have your chance soon.”

He strutted towards Tarkus and Jonathan, Speedwagon and Jotaro silent.

“(‘In a secret room, filled with the smell of death...when a young kid opens the gate to release a young lion into the will start the fire to the wounds and will soon die a painful death’! my fate! And I must face it with open arms!)”

“Mr. Zeppeli!”

He looked back at Speedwagon.

Speedwagon simply steeled his gaze and nodded.

“Be careful.”

Zeppeli nodded back and hurried off.

“I’m coming, Jojo!”

Jotaro brought down the brim of his hat and sighed.

“Yare yare...not another dumb ‘prophecy’ thing...I’ve had enough of these damn things. But if I shouldn’t get involved, I’m not interfering with history any more than I already have.”

Tarkus grunted.

“Hmph! Come! Send that ripple thing at me! Weaklings like you can’t even lay a FINGER on me!”

Zeppeli sent a kick towards Tarkus, who blocked it. However, he then whipped around and performed a backflip, spinning at high speeds. 


Tarkus slipped out from behind Zeppeli and leaped up above him.

“F-From above?!”

Jonathan shouted.


The loop made from the chain when Tarkus jumped wrapped itself around Zeppeli, constricting his torso and right arm.

“An attack from both above AND below...My special attack, Hell-Heaven Snake Kill !!”

Tarkus landed on the ground and took hold of his own chain, yanking it downwards and constricting things further, pulling Jonathan up to the ceiling.


The resulting scene was exceptionally gruesome.

Jotaro gulped hard, watching it and feeling anger well up in his torso.

Speedwagon had a more visceral reaction.


William Anthonio Zeppeli had been torn in half.

Jonathan’s neck had been broken.


The two of them fell heavy onto the ground, Zeppeli with a sickening splat as his innards and blood leaked out onto the cold stone floor.

Tarkus stood up straight and grunted.

“Hmph. I’ve taken care of them...just as Lord Dio ordered.”

Jonathan twitched and groaned, just barely alive.



Tarkus leaned over Jonathan, scowling as he held his chain.

“You’re still breathing after a broken neck?! You upstart brat...I’ll finish you for GOOD!”

However, just then...Zeppeli grabbed onto Jonathan’s leg. 

“Hmmh...this guy is really still alive…?”

Zeppeli spat out what had to be a pint of blood and just barely managed to eke out another sentence.

“My supreme...m-my supreme...supreme technique...I will pass down my supreme technique to you, Jojo…!! Uuuooaaaaaahhh, Jojooooo!! C-Continue my wiiiiiillll!!”
Jonathan suddenly lit up with hamon energy, his clothes sparking straight off his body as his body wracked with an amount of power and energy that he had never had before this point.

Zeppeli smirked.

“J-Jojo...I’ve passed on my life energy to you…”

Speedwagon clenched his teeth as tears flowed down his face. 

“I-It can’t be...this is too cruel…!! MR. ZEPPELIIIIII!!”

Tarkus, uncaring and unfeeling as a fly, stomped towards the two wounded warriors.

“Hmph! For all I care, you both can be CRUSHED UNDERNEATH MY FEET!”

His feet flew down to stomp the guts out of the rapidly-fading Baron.

However, he was stopped by the chain around his neck.

“G-GUH!! Wha…?!”

Jonathan, with his newfound energy, had yanked the chain downwards, and was now staring at Tarkus with a look of hatred and righteous power.

“Jo...Mr. Joestar lifted up Tarkus!”

Tarkus growled.

“This guy...I-I broke his neck! How…?!”

Jonathan then took hold of his own collar, at first with one hand, then with the other.

Then, he pulled.


Tarkus cackled. “NGAH HAH HAH! FOOOOL! You plan to break the collar?! I’ve been given power by Lord Dio, and even I would have trouble with such a thing!”

However...slowly but surely...the collar started to break.


Triumphantly, he tore the collar apart, it breaking into a dozen pieces on the ground.


Jonathan glared at his enemy.

“That messed-up spirit...that evil insanity...You’ve sold even the depths of your soul to Dio, haven’t you?!”

He got into a fighting stance, staring Tarkus down.

Jotaro strolled apart from Speedwagon and Poco next to him, hands in his pockets.

“M-Mr. Jotaro? You…”

“Don’t bother trying to convince me to leave. I’ve got something against Dio, myself. And, besides, I’ve gotta avenge your master, right?”

Jonathan was quiet for a second before nodding.

Tarkus roared and lunged for the two of them, throwing his fist forward.

Jonathan managed to block the blow, but the chain attached to Tarkus’ wrist still flew towards him.


Without lifting a finger, Jotaro blocked the chain using [ Star Platinum ] .


Jonathan leaped forward, and proceeded to use the side of his hand to cut longways all the way down Tarkus’ arm using hamon. It proceeded to immediately disintegrate.


Speedwagon watched in awe.

“Strong! He’s so amazingly strong! He’s different from before, and his movements...they’re faster! Mr. Zeppeli’s life ripple is flowing perfectly within him! Both of their powers are working together in harmony, giving him untold amounts of strength! Enough to even heal a broken neck!”

Jonathan cracked his knuckles. 

“Not even a single one of your bones will remain in this world...I’m going to erase that evil spirit of yours!”

Tarkus grit his teeth so hard that his canines popped out of his gums.



Tarkus spit out his fangs at Jonathan.

Star Platinum [ The World ] !”

Jotaro shouted, and all at once, he stopped time.

Star Platinum took the two fangs out of the air and flicked them back at Tarkus.

“Have your shitty teeth back, Tarkus.”

Time resumed.

The canines flew through the air, sticking into both of Tarkus’ eyes as he whipped around to face Jotaro..


Speedwagon clenched his fists.

“A-Amazing! Using his mysterious power, Mr. Jotaro redirected the fangs to go into Tarkus’ own eyes instead of Mr. Joestar’s!”

“So...You’ve resorted to dirty tricks, Tarkus! I thought you were a warrior!”

“URRRRYYYYAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Tarkus threw himself at Jotaro.

Jotaro just sighed.

“You really don’t learn, do you? I guess it makes sense...Zombies need brains, don’t they?”

Star Platinum flew out of him and delivered a brutal flurry of punches.


Tarkus was sent flying backwards, right into the line of Jonathan’s final attack.

Screaming with tears streaming down his face, Jonathan thrust his fists infused with hamon forward and crushed Tarkus’ skull between the two weapons.


The force of the attack and the intensity of the hamon sent flowing through him almost immediately forced Tarkus to become that which he was as honorable as:

Dust in the wind.

“T-That’s it! Mr. Joestar and Mr. Jotaro did it!”


With the defeat of the wicked Tarkus having passed…

...The atmosphere became solemn.

Jonathan still had tears in his eyes.

As the weight of the situation hit them, Speedwagon and Poco started to cry as well.

Jonathan and Jotaro approached Zeppeli’s body, bending down.

It looked like he had aged fifty years in what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

“Mr. Zeppeli...I-It can’t be...without you...w-what are we supposed to do without you…?”

Jonathan’s tears flowed freely, though he appeared composed.

Jotaro bowed his head out of respect.

“Jojo...y...y-you...fool...t-this time to be sad…!”

He smiled at him for a second before spitting out more blood.

“M-Mr. Zeppeli!”

Poco was agape in shock for a second before crying into Speedwagon’s coat.

“Now...hurry and go...d-defeat Dio...Destroy the stone mask! I am...satisfied with my destiny...When I was young I was married...b-but I gave up my family for the stone mask...however...I-I’m satisfied with my destiny because I have accepted everything...In the end, I passed everything to you, Jojo...You are my hope!”

Zeppeli, trembling, took Jonathan’s hand.

“I feel like I have gained a best friend and son all in one...From now on, I will live inside you…”

His grip loosened, until it finally fell from Jonathan’s hand.

Outside, the group gathered some wood and lit a ceremonial fire to honor their fallen friend.

“To love and win is the best love and lose, the next best thing.” 

This quote is by William M. Thackery, the 19th-century English writer.

And so...Jojo once again inherits his life and spirit.

Goodbye, Mr. Zeppeli.

Chapter Text

Ermes, woozy from the blood loss, sat down on the bridge and watched the events that were going on over by the inn.

It looked like...a tall, muscular dude in a purple outfit just got shot out of one of the walls. Like, really tall. He had to be, like, around 7 feet tall.

And it looks like he...has a blade coming out of his arm?

Fuckin’ weird.

Then, coming out of the inn were two other people. 

Joseph, whom she recognized, and…

...A Nazi officer? Actually, that might be the guy that jeered at them earlier on the road…

Ermes sighed and dug into her pockets, pulling out a couple napkins she had stolen from an office at Cape Canaveral and dabbing at her wounds.

“Ugh, fuck...I have to at least stay alive until F.F. can heal me up…”

She gently wiped at the gashes on her head, picking up the gun Ringo had given her.

Out of ammo...figures. 

Then, Ermes stopped.

Oh, right…

...There isn’t any Foo Fighters anymore.

Dammit, she made herself sad. How pathetic…

Ermes just groaned and rubbed at her wounds a little more, watching Joseph face off against the purple-cloaked guy from the bridge.


She laid back, frowning as she stared up into the blue sky, wincing at the cold snowflakes that would land near her eyes.

“(God...I’m so tired...I just wanna sleep. I wanna go back...back to Florida, back to 2011...back to Jolyne and Emporio and Pink Guy...Urgh...maybe just...a few minutes of rest’ll get me the energy I need…)”

Ermes, feeling dizzy, slowly closed her eyes…

...And drifted off into slumber…


When Ermes opened her eyes, she was in complete darkness.

She sat up. All her wounds were healed…

“...The hell? Where am I…?”

Swiveling her head around didn't exactly yield any results.

Black. All black. Even whatever surface she was laying on, pitch-black.

“Jeez, I can’t see a thing...well, I mean, I guess it isn’t dark. I can still see myself, after all.”

She waved her hands around in front of her face. Yep. Same palms as always.

Kiss .”

... Kiss ’ summoning yielded nothing.

“Huh? Why...can’t I use Kiss ?! Am I being attacked…?”

She hopped up to her feet, looking around.

Nothing. Just a fuck ton of nothing.



“...Come out here! Please? Please, c’mon, I need to get out of here! I need to get back to Joseph and Casanova and the others!”

...There’s no response…

Ermes frowned, blinking into the nothingness.

“...Please...c-c’mon, man, this ain’t funny. I need to go home…”

Without even realizing it, Ermes had begun to tear up.

“...I wanna...go back to my friends…I wanna go...home...”


“D-Dammit, am I really crying?! C’mon, Ermes, you’re better than that!”

She gave herself a few slaps to the face to psych herself up, but they had little effect.

“...No use…”

Ermes sat down on the ‘ground’ and brought her legs up to her chest, folding her arms on them.

“...Well...what now? Should I just sit here and do nothing? Maybe somebody will come by...I’d try to break outta this place, but...somehow, I get the feeling there’s nothing I can do…”

She put her head down on her arms.


Then, she took notice of something.

Behind her...a blindingly bright light.


Ermes got up and wiped away her tears, turning around.

Immediately, she had to shield her eyes.

Too bright…

“What’s this light doin’ here…?”

Ermes’ eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

She was eventually able to squint.

And...without even knowing it…

...She began to walk towards it.

“...I-I dunno what the hell this place is...but the light...i-it almost feels kinda...comforting.”

Step by step, Ermes’ vision slowly started to fill with the white light.

It felt so inviting… felt like home.




Ermes stopped.


That voice.

That voice…

...I-It was…






Ermes was looking at the face of her late sister.


She had her arms crossed, looking at Ermes with a sort of disgruntled, yet endeared annoyance.

“Ermes, what do you think you’re doing?”

Ermes stared at her sister for twelve seconds before answering.

“...I-I was...going towards...the light.”

“Come on...How many times have you heard that phrase in TV and movies? ‘Don’t go towards the light’...Everyone knows not to. I figured you of all people would know...little sister.”

Ermes’ tears, at first beaded next to her eyes, suddenly started pouring down her face.


She shakily reached out a hand to touch her sister.

“Ermes...I know you miss me. But don’t you have something else that’s on your mind? Something like...returning to your friends?”

“...H-How? How am I supposed to do that, Gloria?! I’m stuck in the 1930s with people I don’t even know!”


Ermes swallowed.

“...P-Please...tell me how…”

Gloria just smiled. 

“Just wake up, little sister. You’re dying of hypothermia and blood loss out in the snow…You’ll return to your friends soon.”

Ermes clenched her fists, staring at her sister.

“...N-No…! Gloria, I-I want to stay here with you! I didn't kill Sports Maxx for nothing! I-I want to stay here! W-We can be together!”

Gloria frowned.

Slowly, her image started to fade away.

“Come on, have to move on. You have friends who are experiencing their own trials.”

Slowly, inch by inch…

“...They’re all waiting for you, Ermes. They miss you. Just wake up.”

...Foot by foot…

“ about, when we meet’ll help me out at papa’s restaurant, right?”

...Gloria had vanished.

All that was left was a simple, ghostly voice.


“Hey! Wake up! Wake up, already! ...Hey, Master Lisa Lisa! Maybe we should just leave her for dead, I’m sure we won’t lose much of value!”

“Jojo! How cruel of you...Ermes may have only been with us a short time, but it’s callous to leave her to freeze to death!”

“Fine, fine! So it just ‘cause she’s a girl, Caesarino?”

“No! A-And quit calling me that!”

Ermes blinked hard, and the next time she opened her eyes, she was on a balcony, laid across a few chairs.

She was covered in bandages...Especially around her head.

Actually, as a matter of fact, she had a terrible headache…

Joseph and Caesar were looming over him, Joseph snickering.

“Oh! Look who’s awake! Caesar, your special ‘Sleeping Beauty Kiss Technique’ worked!”

Caesar shouted back at his partner and blushed. 

“I-I did no such thing, Jojo! Quit spreading lies, especially with your life in danger!”

He looked back at Ermes.

“Are you alright, Madame Costello?”

“...Urgh...Where...the I…?”

She sat up, using the backs of the chairs as support.

Lisa Lisa approached her.

“You’re in Saint-Moritz, Switzerland. After Jojo managed to outwit Kars and take back the Red Stone of Aja, we relocated to this hotel overlooking an abandoned mansion. We were just about to discuss our route of action.”

Ermes sighed, moving to sit up on one of the chairs.

Jojo rested an elbow on her shoulder, smirking.

“So, Ergo, how’d your duel with that parka freak end up? I spotted his body down in the chasm while me and Kars were duking it out, so I’m gonna assume you won, right?”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Hm! Maybe you AREN’T completely useless after all, then!”


Caesar lightly punched him in the shoulder.


“My apologies, Madame...Jojo’s just tense from the situation, is all. You’re free to stay here and rest if you don’t feel up to the task of invading the mansion right now. Kars is weak to sunlight, after all, so if we attack now, we can outnumber him.”

Joseph wrapped an arm around Caesar and led him away a short distance.

“So, hey, about that, Caesar...I’ve got some reservations about said invasion...”

Ermes watched the two of them walk away and rubbed her head, wincing at the feeling of the bandages around her dreadlocks.

“Agh, fuck…”

She looked up at the blue sky, watching the snowflakes fall down.

Ermes thought about her friends again…

...And she thought of Gloria.

“I’ll find them. Somehow. I don’t know how, but I’ll come back for them. And when I get there...”

She grinned.

“...We'll all be together again.”

Chapter Text

What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs at night?

The guardian creature known as the Sphinx asked Oedipus asked this question and, as is now well-known, he answered ‘Man’.

The legend claimed that anyone who could not answer the riddle would be eaten by the Sphinx.

Joseph Joestar and the others finally arrived to Cairo after travelling over 30,000 kilometers. However, before they will be able to face DIO...just like how Oedipus had to face the puzzle of the Sphinx, many quandaries lie in the way of our heroes.

...And Foo Fighters.

After a lot more walking following the aftermath of the fights with Mariah and Alessi, the group finally arrived at a small cafe a short way out from Cairo.

The tender, polishing a glass, smiled at them.

“Welcome, foreign friends. What can I do for you?”

Joseph dug into his pocket and pulled out the photo of DIO’s mansion he had obtained earlier in their journey.

“Actually, we’d like to ask you something...the mansion in this photo. Do you know where it is?”

Everyone was exhausted from the fight and the travelling...after arriving in Cairo, they combed the whole area for the building in the photo, and found nothing. By now, DIO’s likely changed location...but they could at least find some information if they could just pin down where the place is. 

Foo Fighters rubbed her back, still somewhat sore from being stabbed by tools due to [ Bastet ] ’s magnetic influence. 

She looked around at the patrons.

They served alcohol as well, so it figures that some of them would be passed out with their heads down on the table.

The tender looked at the photograph for a second before glancing up at the group.

“You know, this is a cafe...would you like to order something?”

Joseph sighed.

“You’re right. My apologies...four iced teas, please.”

Foo Fighters piped up. “And one jug of ice water!”

The tender raised an eyebrow at the strange request before moving onto pouring. He looked over the image before finishing pouring and turning around.

“Never seen it before.”

Silent and tense, the group gulped down their iced teas...Well, except for Foo Fighters, who happily gulped down the pitcher of water.

Joseph cleaned off his iced tea, exhaling. “That’s good stuff...but we can’t rest now. Let’s keep looking.”

Everyone collectively sighed, their feet aching.

...But, suddenly, a voice rang out from the other side of the cafe.

“That building...I’ve seen it. Yes, indeed, I know where that building is.”

Joseph turned around. “Eh?”

The group hurried over to the desk where the source of the smooth, suave voice was seated.

A sophisticated-looking man with wavy black hair, a mustache, and what appeared to be face tattoos. 

Showing off, he flipped through a deck of cards and then laid them out in a circle. 

Joseph approached him. “W-Was it you?! You’ve really seen this building before?!” 

“Indeed I did.”

“R-Really?!” Abdul grinned and put out his hands. “This is great!” 

Polnareff pumped his fists in the air and whooped. “AWESOME! How lucky can a guy get?! We finally found someone who knows!”

Foo Fighters caught up with the rest of them, finishing off her jug of water. “Huh? Didja guys find someone?”

Magically, with a flick of the man’s finger, they all stood up in a picketed shape.

“...You can’t expect me to tell it for free, however.”

Joseph was shocked for a second before sighing.

“You’re right...sorry about that.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a couple bills. “Here’s ten pounds. Is this enough?”

The man just snickered, holding out his hand and producing an ace of spades.

“ to gamble. Some may call me a man of cheap thrills. It’s a habit of mine...I even earn my living from gambling. Tell you like to gamble as well?”

Joseph just stared at him. “...Uh...I don’t-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do you or do you not like to gamble? Simple question, really.”


The man sighed.

“Do you want to gamble with me? If you win, I’ll tell you what you want to know for free.”

Foo Fighters glared at him.

“(This guy...he seems...super familiar. Like...maybe I met one of his descendants or something? Can’t put my finger on it, though…)”

Joseph put up his hands.

“Gambling? I mean, I like to think I’m pretty confident in my skills, but we don’t really have time for poker right now. We’re kind of in a hurry. I’ll give you more money if you want it…”

“No, no, it doesn’t have to be poker. You can gamble on anything, really. It doesn’t take a lot of brainpower. For example...Look over there.”

The man gestured over to the wall away from the cafe. A grey tabby cat was happily strutting along it.

“See that cat, there…?”

He grabbed two thick pieces of jerky off of the dish in the middle of the table and tossed them towards the cat.

“All about we gamble on which piece of meat the cat will go after first? Right, or left? Simple, but pretty exciting.”

Polnareff slammed his palms down on the table, growling.

“BON DIEU! You are so ANNOYING! Just take the damn money and tell us, you damn--”

Joseph put out his hand. “Polnareff! Calm down, lose the attitude! That’s no way to ask for things.”

“OKAY! I’ll bet with you! I pick...the one on the right! The right one!” Polnareff hastily pointed over to the right.

The man snapped his fingers.

“GOOD! Now, let the fun begin…I’ll bet the opposite one.”

Foo Fighters immediately remembered where she was familiar with this guy from. 

...Well, not THIS GUY specifically. Actually, it was a girl.


Avdol looked back over to her. “Hm?”

“Huh?! O-Oh, nothing, just...talkin’ to myself. Heheh. (I knew I recognized these mannerisms from somewhere before! The bet-making, the damn ‘better-than-you’ demeanor, even the way she says ‘GOOD’! This he her dad or something…? But, one thing’s for sure...He’s definitely a stand user!)”

She stepped back a little bit to keep her distance, and bumped into one of the drunks passed out on a table.

“Oop, sorry, man…”

No response.

“...Uh...hey, you alright…?”

Foo Fighters grabbed the back of the guy’s head and pulled it up.

It was a kind of feminine-looking guy with a slice of blonde hair wearing a t-shirt and pants.

And...his eyes were definitely open, but they were solid white.

Was he...dead? No, he’s still warm…

Foo Fighters stared a little closer into his dead eyes.

“...This guy…”

...Almost feels like he’s lost his soul or something…

Back at the table, Polnareff snickered. “So, what do I give you if I lose? 100 pounds or so?” 

The man leaned back. “No, no, I don’t want about...your soul?”

Polnareff just groaned and rubbed his forehead, frowning.

Foo Fighters, however, caught the man mentioning betting your soul, and walked back to the group, tugging on Polnareff’s shoulder strap.

“(Uh, Polnareff...I think you’d better call off the be--)”

“Ah--hey, come on, Madame Fighters, I’m trying to pay attention to the cat.”

“Here it comes. Make sure to restrain your dog.”

The cat bounded off of the wall and stared at the two pieces of meat.

Then, after a second of hesitance, it ran for the right piece of meat.

Polnareff clenched his fist. “Right! It’s going for the right!”

Foo Fighters gulped and repeated ‘please stay right’ in her head.

...Unfortunately, it suddenly darted to the left and grabbed that piece before turning to the right one.

The man smirked.

“You saw that, didn't you? The cat went for the left, then the lose.”

Joseph sighed. “C’mon, Polnareff, you lost a 50/50 shot. Now what are we gonna do?”

Polnareff clutched his forehead, confused. “B-But, but…”

“ lost. Now...give it to me. We had a deal, after all.”

Polnareff stopped stammering and looked over at the man.


He pointed at Polnareff.

“Your soul. You DID bet it, after all...I am a ‘stand user’ who can take other peoples’ souls. The gambling process just makes it easier for me. My stand, [ Osiris ] ’s ability can steal your soul at the moment of loss.”

Foo Fighters clenched her fists and her teeth. “I KNEW IT!”

Osiris , with the sound of clattering poker chips, emerged out from the man’s body and forcibly ripped Polnareff’s soul out from his body, leaving him nothing but an empty husk with glazed-over eyes.

...The very same glaze that the blond man had.

Joseph screamed, as did Jotaro. “WHAT THE HELL?!” “POLNAREFF!” 

Jotaro cracked his knuckles and almost lunged at the man before the cat hopped up onto his lap.

“Whoa, whoa, you wouldn’t want to kill me now. It’s much too late now. If I die, his soul dies with my stand. If you want him back...keep gambling.”

“Oh, and by the way, this is my cat, Mountain Queen. Say hi, Queen.”

Mountain Queen meowed.

“My D’Arby. That’s D-A-R-B-Y, with an apostrophe after the ‘D’. Polnareff bet his soul and lost...hence why I have his soul now.”

Avdol bent down and picked up Polnareff’s body as it tumbled floorwards.

“...H-His pulse...Polnareff is...h-he’s DEAD!”

Osiris , using the suckers on its fingertips, molded Polnareff’s soul like pizza dough into the shape of…

...A single poker chip with his face on it. It unceremoniously fell to the table. 

D’Arby picked it up.

“ Polnareff’s soul. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to put one of DIO’s obstacles out of commission...he was too impulsive for his own good.”

Avdol stepped forward, his face twisted into an angry scowl as he grabbed D’Arby by the collar and picked him up. 


“Whoa, whoa, whoa, A-Avdol, hey, stop!”

Foo Fighters cut in.

“...Let me talk to him.”

Avdol grit his teeth before dropping D’Arby and walking away.

He brushed himself off as Foo Fighters pulled up a chair.

“...So, you’re D’Arby, right?”

“That is correct.”

“...Did you also take that guy’s soul, over there?”

She gestured over to the unconscious blond man while Joseph placed Polnareff on a chair. 

“...Indeed I did. He was a paleontologist named Franz Ferdinand.”

He dug underneath the table and pulled out a huge book, flipping through the pages.

Hundreds upon hundreds of poker chips containing other peoples’ souls lined the pages. 

He stopped and pointed at one pink-striped chip.

“Here he is. Franz Ferdinand. I actually took care of him earlier this morning...He bet his soul on a mere coin toss. Not much different than Polnareff over there.”

Foo Fighters nodded. “I everyone in that book there are your victims?”

“Yes...Right here is Billy Paperlace. He was an Englishman who held stock in numerous oil companies. He swore that if he won, he would put me in jail for the rest of my life. Here he is...and here’s his wife...every one of his butlers...and his firstborn son.”

Foo Fighters whistled. “Damn…”

D’Arby suddenly snapped the book shut, generating a small gust of wind.

“However...enough talk. Do you wish to gamble for your friend’s soul?”

“I wanna gamble for both Polnareff’s...and Franz’s soul!”

Joseph bent down next to her.

“A-Are you sure, Ms. Fighters?! I mean, what happens if you lose? Do we just get picked off one-by-one just like Franz over there?”

“Mr. Joestar…” Foo Fighters swiveled her head around. 

“Remember, I’m plankton...I was only given sentience and the gift of consciousness around a few months ago back in my time. I hold it with a lot more regard than I do most people I’m a lot more likely to act sharper when it’s put in danger. And plus…”

She looked back to D’Arby.

“...It means I’m more willing to sacrifice it for my friends.”

He smirked.

“D’Arby...I will gamble with you. But I wanna pick the game. Fine with you?”

“Fine by me. Go ahead...however, let me hear what you will give up if you lose.”

F.F. sighed before looked up at him.

“I wager my soul!”

He snapped his fingers. 

“Good! Then...let us begin. Set up the game, if you would.”

Foo Fighters got up and grabbed a piece of chalk on the table, drawing out a large square with multiple pockets on the outside.

“We’re gonna be playing a simplified version of craps we used to play back in Green Dolphin Street Prison for cash and clothes and other stuff...I guess you could just call it Prison Craps.”

The spaces were laid out. 

One large, empty space. 

One small space labeled ‘Point’ off to the side.

And on each side of the table, two spaces labeled ‘Pass’ and ‘Don’t Pass’.

“So, you know how to play craps, right? The guy who rolls the dice is the ‘shooter’, and when you roll the dice, you can either get a sum amounting to a natural (7 or 11) that counts as a ‘pass’ and lets you roll again, you can get a sum of craps (2, 3, or 12) that counts as a ‘don’t pass’, or you can get a sum of a point (4, 5, 6, 8, 9, or 10). Once you roll a point, you mark it right in that little box there.”

She points to the ‘point’ box.

“The other person who watches the guy roll the dice, they can either bet that they’ll roll a sum that counts as a ‘pass’ after their first, basically anything that isn’t a 7 or craps, or that they ‘don’t pass’, being a 7 or craps. If the shooter rolls a 12, the bet’s a tie and nobody wins or loses. We take turns, but we can only bet after each one of us has rolled once to get a feel for things. If you specify, in your ‘pass’ bet, that the shooter will roll a natural, you get an extra two...well, whatever you’re betting if the shooter rolls as you call.”

D’Arby nodded. “I understand.”

“I know it’s kinda off from regular craps, but it wasn’t like they had guidebooks for gambling back in prison. We had to make do with what we remembered.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Then...what shall we be betting with?”

“How about a mixture of...oh, how about three Polnareff chips for you and three Franz chips for me? It’s six, just to keep things nice and simple.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

Osiris placed its fingers on the chips and multiplied them into three copies of themselves.

“You got two dice, Mr. Orbie?”

“...My name is D’Arby. And yes, I do. On my honor as a gambler, they haven’t been tampered with in any fashion.”

He took two dice from the table and smiled at F.F.

“Who shall go first?”

Foo Fighters took the dice.

“I’ll go. No betting our first rolls, remember.” 

“Of course.”

She threw them onto the table.

They came up 1 and 3.

“Four! That’s a point!”

She grabbed a piece of chalk and nicked off a tally mark for herself.

“Your turn.”

D’Arby took the dice and shook them in his hands.

“You know, I never did catch your name, Ms…?”

“Foo Fighters. You can call me F.F.”

“Of course...Foo Fighters.”

He dropped the dice.

4 and 3.

“Oh my...a 7 on the first roll. That is a ‘natural’, correct…? Then...I get to roll again.”

D’Arby rolled again.

5 and 3.

“Eight. That’s a point.”

He made a tally mark for himself.

“Your roll, Foo Fighters.”

She took the dice and smiled, shaking them around in her hands.

“So, whatcha gonna bet? Pass? Or don’t pass?”

“...I will say ‘don’t pass.’ I bet one chip.”

“Don’t pass...gotcha.”

She shook the dice around a little more. 

“(...Now that I’m getting a good feel for them, these dice are obviously weighted. There’s extra weight on the ‘3’ on one and on the ‘4’ in the other so it’ll come up 7 way more often...Did he stick something on these when he was rolling them…? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll just add some plankton to my own to add that special pizzazz to it!)”

Inside her hands, some plankton seeped out from under her fingernails and congealed itself on the dice pips, the black plankton blending in.

F.F. threw the dice.

6 and 4.

“That’s ten! Another point! Hand over the chip, if you’d please~”

D’Arby slid the chip over to F.F. Now she has three Franz chips and one Polnareff chip.

“Your roll, Doobie.”

“That’s D’Arby. D-A-R-B-Y, it isn’t that hard. But...what do you wager?”

“Two chips...and I bet you’ll roll a natural 11. (That means that if I win, I get to keep my two Franz chips AND take D’Arby’s last two Polnareff chips!)”

“Oh, really…?” He started to shake the dice, putting his other hand on the table’s edge.

Just then, a waiter that was walking by accidentally bumped into Avdol, and spilled a cup of cola on the table.

“O-Oh, sorry, sir! I-I wasn’t looking where I was going, and…”

D’Arby glared at the man and sighed. 

“Be more careful where you’re walking, sir...we’re in the middle of an intense game here. Neither of us can afford any distractions!”

“S-Sorry, sorry…”

The waiter hurried along.

D’Arby held up his hand. Wet…

“...(Yes, be on your way...I can’t let on that you work for me, waiter. Just keep serving like you usually do while I take care of this…)”

He threw the dice using the dry hand that he already had them in.

6 and 4. 

“Another ten, another point. You get to keep your two chips.”

“Alright! My turn!”

F.F. grabbed the dice and looked at D’Arby.

“What do you wager?”

“...One chip. Pass.”

“Pff, alright then…(I’ll just add a little more plankton here…)”

She threw the dice.

1 and 5.

“Six! Pass! You get one Franz chip, Dobby…”

As Foo Fighters was sliding the chip over, D’Arby grabbed her hand.

“My D’Arby! Not Dobby or Doobie or anything of the sort! Quit making that mistake!”

“S-Sorry, sorry! You have an exotic name, it’s hard to remember!”

D’Arby calmed down and took the chip.

Now, Foo Fighters has two Franz chips and one Polnareff chip, and D’Arby has two Polnareff chips and one Franz chip. Tied up.

Foo Fighters smirked as D’Arby clasped the dice with both hands.

“What do you wager?”

“Two chips! Don’t pass!”

D’Arby threw the dice after a somewhat longer amount of shaking.

Foo Fighters snickered to herself inside her head. 

“(That plankton is still on the dice...I can just move it around a little more to change where the weight is! So then, if I move it over here, he’ll roll…)”

1 and 6.

“That’s a seven...I’ve seven’d out. Here’s two Polnareff chips.”

He slid the chips over to F.F. after rubbing out his points, who snickered with her arms crossed.

“You’re pretty collected for someone who’s about to lose, D’Arby! What, you got some kind of secret plan?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“Ah, whatever...what do you wager? Though, I guess you don’t have much to wager…”

“Three chips. You will pass and roll a natural 11.”

Foo Fighters raised an eyebrow.

“Feeling confident about that, huh…? You know, if you lose, you have to give up both Ferdinand and Polnareff’s souls, right? Plus something to make up for the extra two chips you’d owe me…”

“Roll the dice, Ms. Fighters.”

She moved the dice around in her hands, but…

...She noticed something. 

They were...sticky?

“(Why are the dice...sticky? I-I can’t make a clean roll with this, plankton weights or not! I just have to go for it...c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…!!)”

She tossed the dice out, them sticking to her fingertips.

Foo Fighters started to sweat.

“(T-The dice...they’re only sticky in certain spots! Wait, did...did he do this so they’d stick to the table?! The hand he had in the dried in the desert sun and made his hand sticky, and when he rolled last, he used both hands…! That’s why he took a little longer rolling! I...I-I can’t change the outcome of this…!! Shit!! SHIT!! SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!)”

And, just like that, Osiris emerged out from behind Foo Fighters and forcibly tore her soul out of her body, a mix of her stand and the body she was inhabiting’s appearances.

The group, who had been watching tensely until now, screamed out.


As Foo Fighters felt her consciousness leaving her body, she just managed to get a final glimpse at the table.

The dice had landed. The sides D’Arby had touched stuck solidly to the table.

6 and 5.

An unnatural 11.

Foo Fighters woke up around half an hour later in a chair next to Polnareff and...Joseph.

She took in a big gasp of air, putting a hand on her chest.


She forced herself up, looking around.

The table was upturned, cards strewn across the floor of the cafe, and Jotaro and Avdol were joined by some random kid. 

Most noticeably, though, was D’Arby soaked in sweat and drool on the floor, delirious.

“What...w-what happened?”

Jotaro looked back over to F.F.

“...You missed the party. I out-bluffed Dorbie and set all his chips free.”

“Y-You did?! Holy shit, man, props to you! ...Er…”

She frowned.

“...S-Sorry I ended up kind of...being a liability to you guys. I should’ve known a master gambler would be way too much for me to beat at simple prison craps…”

Avdol opened his mouth...but Jotaro quickly clapped a hand over it.

“...Don’t worry about it. It made the game all the more interesting.”

Foo Fighters stared at him, somewhat confused for a second before nodding.

Polnareff and Joseph just groaned and rubbed their eyes, frowning.

“Uggghhh…” “W-Where...huh…?”

...And someone else was also waking up.

Dr. Ferdinand opened his eyes and looked up, looking around.


He shot up. 

“T-That no-good conniving D’Arby fellow!! He stole my very soul!! Dammit, I’ll make him pay...I’ll teach him the meaning of ‘respect for your fellow man’ even if it means strangling him with my own two ha--”

He stopped.

And turned around.

Joseph, Avdol, Jotaro, Polnareff, and Foo Fighters...were all staring at him.

He stared back for a second before digging into his pockets and pulling out the photos.


He looked between the photos and the people a few times before throwing the photos up into the air and pointing at them.


The group just looked at each other and shrugged in confusion.

Foo Fighters stepped forward and lowered his pointing hand.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Mr. Ferdinand...we’re the ones who gambled your soul back from that D’Arby guy. Would you really wanna kill your saviors?”


Ferdinand thought for a second.

“...Of course I would! It’s a mission from the president! TO SLAY ALL OF YOU!”

Two burly men in suits walked up to Dr. Ferdinand and took him by the arms.

“This guy botherin’ you folks?” “We’re security.”

Foo Fighters shrugged. “Yeah, just kick him out. We’re leaving anyways.”

The guards nodded and started to drag him away, Franz Ferdinand kicking and screaming.


“Calm down, crazy guy. We’ll get you somewhere where people will listen to your insane ramblings without disturbing the peace.”


The group watched them drag Ferdinand away.

Polnareff just sighed and made a ‘cuckoo’ motion next to his temple.

“Let’s be on our way. Hopefully we won’t need to meet any more maniacs today.”

Chapter Text

Weather Report immediately fell down onto the ground, dizzy from blood loss.

Akira glanced over at him.


In the brief moment he averted his eyes from the blond man, however, his cat-like stand had lunged forward and aimed to deliver a severing chop to the back of Akira’s neck.

Reflexively, [ Red Hot Chili Pepper ] emerged and attempted to block it. It was sent flying, but it at least managed to stop it from hitting an important artery...well, in exchange for blunt-force trauma to Akira’s arms.

The blond man quirked his eyebrows.

“You also have an ability like mine…?”

Akira groaned and glared up at him.

“Yeah, so?! Look, man, we aren’t even gonna steal anything else! We just came for the arrow!”

The blond man sighed, crossing his arms.

“Somehow, I doubt that...but seeing as you have invaded the privacy of my own home, I can’t let you go unpunished. A man’s home is where he is supposed to feel the safest, after all.”

Weather Report twitched on the floor, bleeding out.

The man glared down at his body.

“Take care of your friend, there. I don’t want him bleeding on my floor before I erase him from existence.”

“Wh--?!” Akira looked back at Weather Report’s body and then returned his gaze back to the blonde.

“Hey, I’m not letting you just erase this dumbass from existence! He broke me outta jail! We’re PALS! And if you think I’m just gonna stand by and let you kill’d be wronger than wrong, buster!”

Akira lunged forward, fists clenched.


He leaped forward, aiming to throw a momentum-fueled right hook straight to the man’s right cheek.

“I would ask you not to yell, but I don’t imagine you’d follow such a simple, understandable request like that. My [ Killer Queen ] will make short work of you.”

“Huh?! Killer --”

Killer Queen emerged out from the man in a fighting stance, and started to throw punches: Not to inflict pain, but to kill as quickly as possible. As such, they were slow enough for Akira to avoid himself. 

“(S-Shit! This guy’s fast as hell! I can’t keep avoiding these much further! C’mon, Weather, wake up, wake the hell up alreadyyyy!!)”

He looked over to Weather Report.

Or...he looked where he was. 

Weather Report’s body was gone.


Suddenly, a blast of air pressure hit the side of the man’s face, knocking him across the room and into a table that broke apart on impact.

Akira looked back in the direction of the impact.

Weather Report was stepping out from behind the dresser from which he had gotten the arrow.

His stand loomed behind him.

“...I’ve re-obtained I remember. My stand…[ Weather Report ]. Weather controls the weather.”

Akira grinned and pumped his fists.

“HELL YEAH! Bastard, don’t scare me like that! I thought you were dead as disco! Now c’mon!”

He pointed over at the blond man, in the process of getting back up.

“Help me finish this guy off!”


Weather Report walked up to Akira and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We didn't come here to kill people. We came here to obtain the arrow. And even that was only to regain my stand. I brought you because I thought you would have an idea of where the next arrow would be, and to defend us in case of emergencies.”

“Yeah? This IS an emergency, chump! And besides, I’m not gonna KILL him...I’ll ‘retire’ him. Y’know. ‘Put him out of commission’. Hospital for a few months at the most.”

Weather Report just sighed. 

“In that case...I suppose we should make sure he at least does not call the police.” 

“I knew you’d come around!”

The blond man finally got up, bleeding somewhat from the wounds he got falling into the table.

“...You annoying brats...hasn’t anyone told you to respect thy neighbor?”

“Hey, DUMBASS! Can’t you see?! I’m a prisoner, for christ’s sake!”

“I don’t even live in this town.”

“It’s...a figure of speech…(What pesky rodents...I can’t use [ Sheer Heart Attack ] in my own home unless I want to pay millions of yen in repairs...And I’d rather not use most of my things as bombs. I must attack within close range. The purple-haired man...Otoishi, I believe...His ‘stand’ is weak right now. And Weather’s ability is to control the weather...which, on its own, doesn’t sound very threatening. I’m sure with some quick thinking, I can take them both out...but I need to isolate one of them first.)”

He stared at the two of them for a few seconds…

...Before turning tail and sprinting out of the room.


Weather Report looked in the opposite direction.

“I’ll follow him. You circle around the back. We can get him in a pincer attack.”

“10-4, good buddy!”

Weather ran after the blond man while Akira went out the back door.

Sliding across the paper floors and practically running through the sliding doors, Weather sprinted after the man until he was out in front of the house with him.

The blond man panted, out of breath from running.

Weather looked back at the name placard on the house.


The man known as ‘Kira’ sent his stand out forward, delivering a punch-rush towards Weather.

Weather Report ! Make a barrier of condensed air!”

Weather Report emerged and condensed the air in front of Weather Report to form a barrier that stopped every one of Kira’s punches.

However, he wasn’t discouraged.

...In fact, he had a smirk on his face.

“... Weather Report said it controlled the weather, correct? My stand, Killer Queen , has an ability as turns anything it touches into a bomb.”

Weather frowned and tried to jump back, but he was too late.

The condensed air was ignited into a huge explosion, delivering several wounds all along the front of Weather’s body and throwing him into the side of Kira’s car.

He coughed up a couple cups of blood while Kira approached him, frowning down at him.

“...You don’t look like you’re Japanese, and you said you weren’t from here...You must be American.”

Kira sighed, looking off to the side.

“You know, I don’t have anything against Americans. I simply don’t like others invading my home. I come from a long lineage of samurai, so you could say I have a strict code of honor. Somewhere along the way, we lost our nobility...but we’re still rather upper-class. I would tell you more about me, but that Otoishi person will be coming soon…So I don’t have any time to waste.”

Weather Report just panted, silently staring up at him. 

Killer Queen started to bend down with its hand extended.

“Don’t worry...your pain will soon be over.”

Weather braced himself.

But death never came.

Kira was stopped by Akira’s [ Red Hot Chili Pepper ] socking him in the back of the head.

Being that it was rather weak due to the lack of electricity, it amounted to just being the same strength as a regular human, but still managed to hurt Kira.

“Wh--ow! You…!”

Akira came around the side of the house and shouted at Weather Report. 

“Hey, Weather! I just came up with a bombshell idea! You can control the weather and shit, right?! Well, my stand gets energy from electricity! If there’s a source of electricity around, then I can use that to power it! This guy’s house is real traditional-Japanese so it’s all mechanical, but if you can control the weather…”

He clenched his fist.



Weather put out his hand.

Instantly, clouds started to form over the three men.

Kira rubbed the back of his head, whipping around.

“Drat...Otoishi! I’ll put you out of commission before you can gain more power!”

Thunder started to rumble in the sky above them.

Killer Queen thrust itself towards Otoishi, hands outstretched.


Before it could touch him, however…

...Lightning came down from the sky with a thunderous, god-like crackle.

It hit Akira right on the head, and he took it with arms outstretched, his face twisted with the ecstasy of such unimaginable power and ecstasy.

Kira stopped short of him, not wanting to touch him while he was being electrocuted for fear of being shocked himself.

Red Hot Chili Pepper emerged out from Akira’s smoking body, intense and burning bright with the natural, intense energy of a lightning strike.


Weather Report frowned, worried someone might hear this psycho screaming about Woodstock and ruling the world.

Kira just stood, completely baffled.


He was immediately interrupted by Red Hot Chili Pepper delivering a devastatingly intense uppercut straight into Kira’s ribs.

Kira forced out liters of blood from his mouth as he was sent straight flying into his car’s engine, going halfway through before the car violently exploded and sent the two of them into the air.

Weather, halfway down the length of the car and facing away, was able to get away with minor damage and land on his feet on the pavement.

Kira, however, was skyrocketed into the sky and hit the pavement face-down next to the burning car, his skin and clothes blazing with a red-hot fire.

Weather Report sighed. “Shit…”

Then he looked up and realized the absolute mess he had gotten himself into.

On one side, Kira’s car was blazing furiously and he was on fire face-down next to it, possibly dead.

On the other side, Akira was screaming and cackling, absolutely mad with electrical power.


Even worse, the explosion, screaming, and lightning strike are likely going to attract people...calls are going to be going in about incidents in the villas of Morioh.

How can he extinguish the fire, neutralize Akira, and put up a good cover for a getaway all at once…?


What to do, what to do…

...Ah! Of course!

Weather put up his hand.

The clouds rolled in darker and heavier, cumulonimbi layering within one another as he started a heavy, cold torrential downpour. 

After a minute of raining, the weight of the water drowned out the fires, extinguishing them with a satisfying hiss.

Indeed, the water also grounded Akira’s electric influence, draining almost all of his stand’s energy.

Accordingly, he stopped screaming and lowered his hands.

“...What the hell, power...w-why’d you make it rain…?! The fuck’s wrong with you, man, I would KILL for that kinda energy again!”

Weather Report got up, wincing from his injuries and slight burn wounds.

“My apologies, Otoishi-san. I promised I’d have you back in the prison by dawn...but I’ll have to break that promise due to your behavior. So...goodbye. I’ll tell Josuke and Okuyasu you’re floating around to keep you on your toes.”

He turned on his heel and started to run away.


Akira started to shake his fist, but just sighed at the end of it.

“...Ah, forget it. I’ll just go back to prison on my own.”

And Akira started walking back to the prison on his own in the middle of the night with his hands in his pockets.

Meanwhile, Weather passed by the burnt-out car.

“(Is that Kira man alright? I wonder…)”

He glanced back at where Kira’s body was laying.

But there was nobody there.

Weather just continued running. 

It’s the Morioh Grand Hotel.

Room 415.


Blackmore and D were in their hotel room, Blackmore working on getting his blonde hair in his frontal ponytail while D flipped through the yellow pages.

“Remind me what I ask when I get on the phone, Blackmore.”

“...Hm? O-Oh, uh...I guess just ask their name and address? But only ask for the address if their name is the right one…”


D dialed a number into the phone, holding it up to his ear.



“Yello, Higashikata Residence speaking.”

“Is this Josuke Higashikata?”

“Uh, yep. Who’s this? I gotta tell ya, I don’t exactly trust mysterious phone calls from adult men I don’t know most of the time…”

“Can you tell me your address?”


“...Okay, thank you.”

D hung up.

Blackmore turned around to look at him. “...Did he say the address?”

“He said no.”

“...Oh...okay. Try the Nijimura guy next, I suppose…”

D sighed and went back to flipping through the yellow pages for a Nijimura household.

That is, until Blackmore perked up and heard something. 

A soft pitter-patter on the roof of the hotel.

He blinked blankly a few times before getting up and looking out the window.


D looked up.

“Are you going to look for the targets while it’s raining?”

“...Yeah. Soo~ooorry for leaving on such short notice...but it doesn’t rain too often. [ Catch The Rainbow ] doesn’t work without rain, y’know…”

“I know.”

Blackmore summoned the mask and pulled it down over his face.

“...I hope I can find one of them soon...I wonder how the others are doing…?”

He opened the hotel window and hopped out, stepping out into the rain.

Chapter Text

Fugo, having delved into the restaurant window, tactically rolled down onto the floor and hopped back up onto his feet, sprinting as fast as he could towards the back exit. 

Dammit...what the hell’s wrong with him?!

How could he be so STUPID as to actually believe those two to be members of Passione?! 

He should have asked for their badges, he should have asked for identification, he should have done ALL of that…

...Fugo sighed.

There isn’t much he can do about it now. 

He ran through the kitchen, hopping over upturned pots and swerving past scorched countertops.

He’s made his decision…

“I can’t in good conscience come with you. You’ll all be killed fighting against the boss…”

He still stands by that.

Fugo’s way of thinking is, as he sees it, logical. Calculating. He doesn’t want to throw his life away for someone he had just met.

...And he is.

Running after his friends as they leave on a plane.

It’s like he said: He couldn’t possibly make it there in time. 

Thinking things through, if he could somehow hitch a ride on a plane leaving at the same time, maybe he could make it there as well…

He’s got [ Purple Haze ] active up on the roof, keeping Magenta Magenta at bay.

But...soon, he’ll be out of range, and Fugo will have to deactivate it.

While in the midst of thought, Fugo ended up bumping into someone.


As he dropped to the ground and winced, Fugo looked up.

It was that grid-haired guy...what did Magenta say his name was? ...Wekapipo?


Wasting no time, Wekapipo tossed out what looked like…

...A ball? With a bunch of smaller balls on it?

Fugo wasn’t able to dodge in time, the sphere nicking his leg.

Instantly, he felt very strange. His entire left side felt numb, and everything to that side appeared to simply fragment and break away into nothing. 

“W-What…?! What’s happening?!”

Wekapipo, half-obscured by whatever was going on with Fugo’s vision, looked down at him.

“In the interest of fairness, I’ll tell you...This is the spin technique of the Neapolitan Royal Guard, Wrecking Ball . It forces you to ‘ignore’ everything to your left side.”

“...’Neapolitan Royal Guard’? W-Wait, how are you part of the Royal Guard of Napoli? The Kingdom of Napoli was dissolved in 1860, and it’s 2001!”

Wekapipo sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t humor you with an summarize, we are travelers from another dimension, sent by the President of the United States to kill your friends. You weren’t exactly on our list, likely because you end up surviving in the end...but there’s been a change of plans.”

Fugo just boggled at him.


Before he could speak, Wekapipo lunged forward and whipped out a pistol, shooting three times at Fugo. He was just barely able to dodge two of them, but the third hit his right arm.


“In my world, I’m not exactly what you would call a ‘stand user’...more like something adjacent to it. But I was sufficiently educated on the nature of such things by President Valentine. Seeing as your stand is up on the roof currently keeping Magenta Magenta at are left unprotected.”

Fugo wheezed, loosely feeling around with his left hand trying to cover his wound, despite not being able to see it or feel it. 

“ know what…? You can kill me. Go on...try it. I’ve made up my mind…”

Wekapipo lowered his gun, confused.

“...Back at that San Giorgio Maggiore...I made a decision. I didn't want to risk my life for the sake of someone I didn't know...I couldn’t be a righteous idiot. But body’s moving of its own volition. I’m acting separately from my mind...impulsively. I need to protect my friends from bastards like you. I need to protect Giorno, and Bruno, and everyone...Including Trish. I’ve changed my mind. I’ve changed my beliefs! I will die not as a coward who couldn’t face the facts...I want to die for a GOOD CAUSE!”

Wekapipo shot again. 

But it was deflected by a hand.

A...purple hand. 

Fugo smirked defiantly up at him.

“...Thanks for listening to gave me just enough time to recall Purple Haze . Now...I’ll be making my escape!”

Fugo scrambled away (to the right) as Purple Haze materialized in front of Wekapipo, wheezing and groaning at it drooled through its grit teeth. 

Wekapipo stared in front of him.

...Being a ‘spin’ user, and not one that’s exactly mastered it, however…

...The most he could see was the wispy, violet smog in front of him.

And the next thing he knew…

...Wekapipo’s body was failing.

Fugo, struggling away, only had to look back once to see the pile of flesh he had become. 

He coughed, and as feeling returned to the left side of his body, he resolved to figure out a plan. 

Get a cloth. Make a tourniquet. 

Get some money. Buy a plane ticket to Sardegna.

Hope he’s not too late.

Hope they can forgive him.

After some back-and-forth with Giorno, Mista, and Anasui where Giorno made absolutely sure that the large, ugly, honestly uncomfortable-to-look-at man was surely dead, it was time to go.

Narancia’s final report of nobody being around kicked off the trip.

The plane rolled forward...and the plane took off.

Abbacchio spoke from the front.

“Retracting the landing gear! Ascending to 12,000 meters...then, entering cruise phase.”

Everyone was seated as the plane took off, Narancia keeping [ Aerosmith ] flying outside the plane to check for interlopers.

“D-Dang, this plane’s just as fast as I’d hoped! Aerosmith can only keep up because I’m right here, but even in my seat I’m being pulled back! There aren’t any problems...I’m calling it back!”

Abbacchio smirked. “Takeoff successful...that means we can rest easy. Until the plane lands, that is. Goodbye, Venezia!”

Everyone sat quietly in the plane as it leveled itself in the sky. 

...That is, except for Anasui, who had his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him, annoyedly tapping his finger on the armrest.

He is getting real sick of how long this is taking.

How fucking long does it take to take down one measly mafia boss!

He wants to get back and see Jolyne, already! She already said he could ask her to marry him, so he wants to get back there as fast as possible! He has no time to be dilly-dallying with bullshit mafia nonsense! 

Anasui yawned and rubbed one of his eyes.

He’s also pretty darn tired…


The person in the seat in front of him turned around, shouting at him. It was Mista.

“C’mon, Anasui, get your dirty boots out of my face! They’ve been right next to me since we got on this stinkin’ plane!”

“...Oh...what, these dirty boots?”

He moved his feet a little to poke Mista on the nose.

Mista stared, disgusted for a second, before doubling over laughing. “Yeah, I mean those dirty boots, ya dunce! Whatever, keep ‘em there. I’ll be reading anyways.”

Trish looked out the window as the rapidly shrinking Italian landscape. 

“My, your boss . Do you think he knows we’re searching for his past in Sardegna?”

Bruno cleared his throat.

“Ex-boss. You mean our ex-boss. And I’m sure he’s figured that out...he knows we’re not just blindly running about. Even though we’ll reach Sardegna in two hours, we don’t have any time to waste. Every second counts...we have to learn the boss’ past as soon as possible. And if I’m right, then when your mother met him back in Sardegna, he wasn’t a gangster who needed to hide his identity just yet. He only started the gang later. He must have an ‘identity’...He must have left his face from somewhere 14 years ago somewhere on that island. We can’t find it ourselves...but, as his daughter, you should be able to find it. Do you have any leads? Anything works. Do you remember any more details your mom told you?”

Trish looked wistfully out the window.

“Cala di Volpe. There’s a coast as green as emerald at’s called Costa Smeralda. My mom told me that she was on vacation at the Cala di Volpe resort there when she met my dad. She also told me that my dad grew up on Sardegna...after all, he spoke Sardinian. dad disappeared after that vacation at the Costa Smeralda, and my mom was never able to find anything else about him. Not even a name. I don’t even know where to start looking, and these are just old stories from my mom, anyways…”

Bruno shrugged.

“You’ll know when you get there. You are the boss’ sole blood relative. That’s why he’s trying to eradicate you, and...we just need to go to this Cala di Volpe you mentioned!”

Anasui had his chin resting on the shoulder portion of the back of Mista’s seat, reading over his shoulder.

“...Mista, are you reading a cookbook?”

“Yeah, so? I was never that good at cooking, so I want to learn.”

“...We’re on an AIRPLANE. How are you supposed to learn if you can’t put it into practice?!” 

“Hey, you don’t pass an exam by taking a bunch of little exams, right?! You study!”

“Don’t you know what a practice test is, you loser?!”

The two of them jokingly traded insults while laughing, as Giorno sat on the seats across from them.

“...(They sound like they’re getting along well…)”

...But then, he heard a small sound. Something like a ‘crick’.


He looked to the source, and found it was coming from a small cabinet in front of him. And it was making the same ‘crick’ noise over and over again. 

Giorno started to sweat.

“ you two hear that?”

The two of them looked over. “Hm?” “...?”

“Do you two hear that noise…? Mista, ready your gun. Listen…”

...Anasui and Mista listened, but didn't hear anything. Anasui scoffed. “What, air pressure gone to your head, blondie? You’re hallucinating.”

Mista shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t hear anything…”

“Just draw your gun, Mista! Something’s odd about whatever’s in that cabinet…”

Mista gave him an incredulous look. “...Reality check: You’re the one acting strange, Giorno! You’re sayin’ there’s something inside that cabinet, right? But, you checked it yourself: You told us there wasn’t even a cockroach onboard this thing!”

Giorno put his hand on the side. 

“I know, I did check...and I was right, there’s still no ‘life energy’ coming from this thing...there are no living beings onboard apart from ourselves and the turtle. But…”

Anasui crossed his arms. “Oh, but WHAT? You think some magical little creature hitched a ride and is currently plotting our demise with a little blueprint and pencils?! Or maybe some kinda remote-controlled stand?! Get real, you’re just loopy from the change in pressure.”

“Maybe I am being paranoid...we’re 12,000 meters in the air and flying at 800 kilometers per hour, after all. But I need to know. I’m opening the cabinet...have your guns and stands ready, Mista and Anasui.”

Anasui sighed and readied [ Diver Down ] .

Mista, now a little worried himself, pulled out his gun and aimed at the cabinet. 

...Slowly, Giorno opened the door to the cabinet…


...Veeeery slowly…

And it revealed nothing but a few trays of ice crackling on a shelf within.

Giorno sighed.

“It’s a fridge. I’m...I-I’m sorry, you two were right. My nerves were getting to was just a fridge, and the sound I heard was the water freezing in the icemaker. Perhaps the pressure really is getting to me…”

Mista gulped. 

“...Giorno...if this is a joke, I sure as hell ain’t laughing...when did you stick that thing in the fridge? Is that some kind of moldy chicken nugget or something…? You tryin’ to freak me out or whatever?!”

Anasui just pointed at it, blankly stating the obvious.

“Hey, that’s the vertebrae I tore out of that weird fatso we killed. No doubt about it...and it’s still bleeding, too. Huh. Wonder how it got up here.”

Mista and Giorno were terrified, by stark contrast.

“...W-Why…? Why the hell is this in here?! It’s still’s still fresh! Why the fuck is it here?!”

“What in the world…? Unbelievable! We chose this plane ourselves, and there was nothing on here! I checked! How did…? And...why…?!”

Anasui pointed at it again. “Hey, it’s growing.”

The vertebrae gurgled and bubbled, starting to expand out slightly to the sides with flesh.

Mista boggled at it, sweating. “...(What the hell is going on?! Why is that guy’s neck bone on this plane?! Even if he somehow survived, no remote control could work from this far away!)”

Anasui just frowned. “(Are these guys even listening to me…?)”

Giorno shouted back at the others. “Buccellati! Guard Trish! And, check to make sure nothing and no one is in the cockpit or the cabinets! Narancia, use Aerosmith to check around the plane! Double check to make absolutely sure that no one is following us!”

Mista took hold of Anasui’s lattice-shaped mesh shirt. 

“Did you take that fuckin’ thing on here, Anasui?! You’re gonna fucking KILL US! HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off me, dumbass! I didn't bring it on, you SAW me throw them away! Besides, the guy had his vertebrae torn out and was pumped full of lead, there’s no way he could bring them on here! ...Besides, now isn’t the time to panic. Everyone’s busy searching for who could have done it.”

Mista let go of him and looked back at the others. Everyone was hard at work, checking under the seats, in the closets, in the luggage compartments, and yet nothing showed up. Narancia shouted, “I don’t see anything in the cabinets or below the seats! And nothing could follow us from outside anyways! There aren’t even any other planes in the sky, it’s dead quiet!”

Bruno looked back at the young boy. “Giorno, you made sure that there was nothing living on this plane before or after we came in, right?”

“I did...I checked every inch. However, Anasui also said that he saw it expanding...I was too shaken up to get a good look at it, but…”

Anasui rolled his eyes. So they ARE listening to him...these guys are so wrapped up in their own worlds, huh?

Bruno hummed. “Hm. Then, if the vertebrae itself was expanding...perhaps it in and of itself has life energy within it?”

Giorno started to reach towards them. 

“Hey, don’t touch them, Giorno. We may be suspicious of them, but don’t go doing anything reckless. We still don’t know what this thing could do.”

Thinking creatively, Giorno instead touched the shelf the vertebrae was on, roots and vines of orchids swirling up towards them.

A single green orchid bloomed out of the vertebrae itself. 

Giorno sighed. “It’s just a bone...a lifeless object. After all, if they weren’t, [ Gold Experience ] wouldn’t be able to take root within it.”

Anasui sniffed. “I doubt they’re lifeless. I saw that thing expanding, and I’d swear the lives of those I’ve killed on it. Throw the damn thing out of the plane before it starts growing eyes and sentience.”

Bruno nodded. “Agreed.”

Narancia piped up from the back. 

“B-But, hey, Abbacchio was just talking about this...there’s a big change in air pressure between the inside and outside of the plane at 12,000 meters! Shit will go flying if you open a hole! We’ll get flushed out like rats in a toilet!”

Bruno cleared his throat. “If you’re so worried...then I’d suggest holding on to something. I’ll just open a small hole using [ Sticky Fingers ] .”

Narancia and Mista clung to their seats, screaming as Bruno’s stand emerged and placed a zipper underneath the fridge. Giorno shielded his face and turned away. Trish hid behind a chair.

Anasui just looked at all of them like they were idiots, standing where he was. 

“...(I just realized I’m the oldest one out of all of these guys...shit, I’m babysitting, aren’t I?)”

And just like that, Bruno stood back up.

“...Er, you can all relax, now. It’s already gone. I dropped the whole fridge out of the plane...I’ll be in the cockpit with Abbacchio to make sure everything’s fine over there if you need me.”

Mista, teeth grit, opened up an eye and scrambled over to the nearest window, along with Giorno. They watched the fridge tumble down to the ground with the vertebra in tow.

Giorno murmured, “It’s definitely falling...I can feel it. Gold Experience ’s orchids are falling with it at an incredible speed.”

Mista groaned. “I’m still on edge about this whole thing...if that was some kind of attack, how’d they get the goddamn thing on the plane? It’s only been maybe 15 minutes since we took off...but, still, thank God we found that shit sooner rather than later!”


Anasui just sat back down in his seat behind Mista, resting his fist on his cheek.

...Man, he’s tired...he’ll just take a quick snooze…

He woke up a short while later. Didn't get much sleep...but he must have slept on his fist a little funny, his wrist feels kinda numb.

Rubbing one of his eyes, he looked over out the window.

...Oh, huh, there’s some writing.


I wanna see Jolyne.


“...What the fuck? Jolyne?! Who the fuck wrote this?! This is some fucker’s private plane, right?! And, it’s 2001 anyways, she’d be, like, a child! Who wrote this?! Who the fuck wrote this, who’s after Jolyne, I’ll kill them!”

...But, he saw more writing, which distracted him for the time being. 


Man, I really gotta rub one out…

What, am I surrounded by idiots or something?

Fuckin’ losers.

Where have all the good times gone?

Big, big...big...

Hope it isn’t summer when I get back…


“Man, this place is filthy. It’s like one of those shitty McDonalds restrooms people always talk about on the internet. Still, what fucker’s here drawing all over his private plane…? Especially about Jolyne!”

Yet, he saw some writing he recognized.



Taking this bitch to the Coaster Smegma or whatever she said…

Sardegna’s where we’re headed. 


It cut off at the tray.

He looked back at the others before hesitantly opening it.

More writing. “What the fuck…?”


The corpse is eating us.

Save us. 

That pitiful man.

He died with hatred in his heart.

He died with the scorn of rejection and heartbreak. 

Used and abandoned like an old rag.

The hatred fuels his energy.

It is his energy.

An energy activating for the first time since he died.

It promised. It promised to save him.

Not even he has seen this energy.

Nothing can kill him, because he is a corpse.

The enemy is Notorious B.I.G.

Nothing can help us now.

Nothing will ease our troubled fates.

Please, God, save us.

Save me. I don’t wanna die. 

I want to propose to Jolyne before I die.


Anasui clenched his fists, not of anger, but of fear. 

“...What...the fuck...w-who…?! Who the hell...wrote all this shit…?!”

...And just at the bottom of the last line…


Narciso Anasui



It was then he took notice of the marker wriggling out of one of the warmers around his forearms. 

“Oh, sh--”

He immediately yanked it backwards.

Underneath the arm-warmer was a misshapen, bubbling, gurgling blob of flesh in the shape of a mouth, holding the marker in its teeth. Immediately after being seen, it spit the marker out.

Anasui stared down at it, silently ogling it with wide eyes and a dry mouth as he slowly turned his head around to the rest of the group.

“...Uh, hey, guys? Problem. Big problem, over here.”

Magenta Magenta scaled down the building to where he had last seen Wekapipo.

“Wekapipooooo? Wekapipooooo! Hey, c’mon, get out here already! If you’re still mad at me over my stupid jokes, then too bad! They’re MY JOKES! I get to make ‘em whenever the hell I want! Heheheh!”  

...No reply.

“...Heheheh...heh...uh, Wekapipoooo? Hello? A-Are you around here? C’mon, man, this isn’t funny! You killed that shitty brat, right?” 

...Nothing. He finally took notice of the pile of clothes in front of him.

“Whoa, hey, what the hell? Your clothes...what, did you go naked or something?! Heh, c’mon, real funny, man…”

He picked up the clothes.

...Flesh dripped off of them.

Or, what was left of Wekapipo.

Magenta Magenta just stared at the pile of clothes and flesh, an empty look of shock on his face and a smile frozen in time. 

“...A...Ah...oh...w...w-well...then...I guess...guess I should, uh...t-tell...Valentine, right…?”

He felt tears running down his face.

“...That’s what you’d do...right? Wekapipo?”

Fugo, his arm bandaged, sat on a bench outside a local tourist hotel as he watched a plane fly through the air.

“...That’s them. From the direction...if the sun sets in the west, and I’m facing a short angle away from that, then...they must be headed to Sardegna.”

He leaned over, putting his elbows on his knees. 

“...I’ve been so stupid...but I can’t waste time. Need to get a ticket to Sardegna. Need to regroup...I hope they’ll forgive me for that sordid display…”

Chapter Text

Miraschon squirmed around where she stood in the bathroom, her arms bound tightly to her upper body by the film encasing her body. 

“RRrgghh--G-Get this fuckin’ thing off of meeeee!! (Water! Get to the sink! I need to soak myself!)”

She leaned over and tried to turn on the sink…

...Unfortunately, it was one of those where you turn it to make it flow. She tried grabbing the handle with her hands, but she couldn’t move them far enough away from her body or lean over enough to get a good handle.

Then she tried her teeth, but the plastic got in the way and got rid of any grip her teeth would have had. 

“Fucking--dammit…!! C-Can’t...breathe! (The fucking plastic is in the way! Every time I breathe in, the film fills my mouth! Getting...kinda...woozy…)” 

She felt her vision starting to blur as the lack of oxygen started getting to her. 

Turning around, she was just able to see the vague appearance of [ Civil War ] , and leaned back a little.


She stumbled forward and tried to headbutt the stand.

Miraschon only managed to knock her head on the shower wall and pass out in the tub.

Civil War just stared down at her, emotionless. 


Lang Rangler hopped over the couch, sprinting full speed towards the bar while screaming.

“NGGRRAAAAHHHHHH!! (Get to the bar! Get to the bar! Get to the bar! Get to the bar! Get to the baaaaar! JUST KEEP MOVING, LEEEEEGS!)”

Axl dug into his pocket and lazily pulled out a small revolver, firing several times at Lang Rangler. A few shots just barely scraped by him, but most of them missed. 

He just barely managed to dive behind the bar’s counter, knocking himself into the shelf of alcohol and throwing himself onto them. In addition to lots of small cuts, he soaked himself in booze. “Hell yeah! Soak, soak all over me...and set me FREE!”

...But, nothing happened.

Lang Rangler stared blankly at himself for a few seconds before remembering that he can’t breathe with this stupid film on.

Axl leaned over the counter.

“You know, that won’t has to be ‘water’. You know, the stuff that’s everywhere? You can’t wash your sins away with alcohol...believe me, I’ve tried. And, look…”

He pointed at Lang’s legs.

“...Looks like more of your ‘sacrifices’ are coming to torment you.” 

Melding into his legs, screaming and crying as they jeered him, were...three children.

Their faces were contorted into something between torture and mockery.

“Hey, look who it is! It’s LAME RANGLER!”

“You killed us, you dumbass! All we did was make fun of you a little!”

“Sounds like someone has temper problems! Come on! Let us engulf you! That way we can ‘play’ with you aaaaaall day!”

Lang Rangler grit his teeth in rage as he felt the faces expand out into more plastic, now engulfing his entire body.

“ away from me...I...I-It isn’t my fault…!! It isn’t my fault I’m poor…!! No, d-don’t fucking...don’t you TALK SHIT ABOUT MY MOM! SO WHAT IF I WANNA GO TO SPACE SOMEDAY?! WHAT’S WRONG WITH WANTING TO SEE THE STAAAAARS?!”

Axl RO just sighed and folded his arms on the counter, leaving his pistol alone. After all, if he kills Rangler by his own hand, he’ll end up as one of Axl’s sins, and that would be no good…

“Nothing wrong with having a dream. It’s when you start dreaming of things you could never achieve that you end up becoming deluded. I know I’ve had dreams turn into delusions...but enough talk. Not like you can respond anyways.”

He smirked.

“Just lay down and take it quietly. At least you’ll have a dignified death.”

But Axl Ro was hit with a solid punch to the side of the skull, sending him flying into the opposite wall of Miu Miu’s house. 

He crumpled to the floor, coughing up some blood as he staggered to his feet. 


Axl quickly recovered. Brushing himself off, he looked around for who punched him.

No one.

“...Maybe the others came home? But...there’s no one else here. Hmph...aside from that, there’s no way I could lose now. Miraschon and Rangler are both incapacitated! And after them...Gwess, and Miu Miu, and Emporio and Jolyne! I’ll crush all of them, one by one!”

He pushed himself off of the wall to step forward.

The action itself left a huge crack in the wall.

“Urk--w-whoa...must not know my own strength...I didn't know I had that ability…”

He looked back at the counter.

“I oughta see if Rangler is dead ultimately won’t matter, but I still want to check…”

But instead of seeing the counter of the bar…

...He saw himself.

And a blonde boy moving to punch him square in the side of the head.

“...W-What…?! That’ No, wait...looking back at that wall…”

He turned behind him.

The wall was unharmed.

“...It’s...unharmed! Then, could it be that that’s my actual body, and this is…?”

Axl realized what was going on, but he wasn’t fast enough to reach his body, no matter how hard he sprinted.

Instead, he was forcibly torn back into his body by a series of horrific, stabbing pains, hitting him slowly like a rush of needles embedding themselves into his head. 

And the only sound he could make out through the unbelievable rush of pain was one word.


Axl RO (his actual body) was sent flying through the window of the house, not killing him but knocking him unconscious for what was likely to be a long while. 

The young boy leaned over the counter and saw Lang Rangler, passed out from lack of oxygen. The film had dissipated.  

“...Hm...What a mess. I’d better take care of this. You won't be hearing me say this until you wake up, name is Giorno Giovanna.”


Miraschon just laid face-down in the tub with her legs hanging over the edge. 

Miu Miu fell to her knees and banged her fists on the ground.

“What...the HELL HAPPENED TO MY WINDOOOOOW?! It’s all cracked and broken! And there’s an unconscious soldier outside it! I KNEW that flat-chest and the physics nerd couldn’t be trusted!” 

Gwess looked up at the night sky, yawning. “Aaaahhh, man, I’m so happy to get out of that cramped car…(How come the kid got a better seat than us...?)”

Jolyne crossed her arms, leaning on Miu Miu’s car. “I’m just happy I’m away from...ugh. Him.”

She gestured to Ungalo, who was clambering out of the car and groaning. “Fuckin’ cramped hunk ‘a junk...but hey, at least I got to sit between two hot girls~”

Jolyne just sneered at him. 

Emporio hopped out of the car and looked over to the rest of the spots.

“Oh, look! That must be Rykiel’s car, coming in right about now!”

A simple green sedan entered into the driveway, parking next to Miu Miu’s car. 

Rykiel limped out with crutches, waving to the driver: A man with blonde hair in tight curls and a broad forehead. 

“Thanks for the ride, Sonny!”

Sonny gave a thumbs up. “Hey, no problem, bro. Anytime.”

And just like that, he was gone. 

Rykiel waved to everyone. “Hi.”

Gwess and Jolyne waved, smiling at him, as did Emporio.

Ungalo, however, hopped over the hood of the car and walked up to him. 

“Hey...Is it just me, or am I feelin’ some kind of a connection between us?! Not like a gay one, though. Like a a fa--like a famir--like I’m related to you or something.”

Rykiel shrugged. “I guess so, yeah...hey, isn’t that the same birthmark I have?” He pointed at Ungalo’s shoulder.

Ungalo looked at his birthmark. “Huh? Eh, maybe. Probably just a coincidence.” 

“(I don’t think it is…)”

Emporio gulped. 

“Uh, guys, I-I don’t mean to ruin the family reunion, but with Rykiel’s car leaving, I just noticed...t-there’s a limousine parked in front of this house!”

Miu Miu hopped back up onto her feet. “A LIMOUSIIINE~?”

 Jolyne and Gwess tilted their heads to look over at the limousine.

“Damn, really? A real one?” “I’ve never seen one in real life…(apart from movies, though.)”

...The window rolled itself down.

Some Italian guy in an arrow-motif hat with some stubble looked at all of them.

“...What’re all you goofballs staring at? Go inside: the boss is waiting for you in there.”

Everyone was silent.

Jolyne blinked a couple times and gulped.


Jolyne took a bite of steak. 

“Man, this steak is’re actually a pretty damn good cook, Gwess.”

Gwess blushed. “Y-You really think so, Jolyne~? Wow…”

Miraschon rested her chin on her fist, despondently munching on broccoli. “(What an embarrassing position to be caught in...I had to spend a good couple minutes convincing those guys I didn't just get shit-faced and fall in the tub…)”
Miu Miu annoyedly put a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. “(Honestly...I never should have let these...swine in my beautiful home! Now I’ll have to spend some pocket change to fix what they broke! ...And to top it off, some of my toiletries are missing!)”

Giorno scratched his blonde hair and sat, not eating.

“...I’m surprised at how well you’re all taking this...I thought there would be more of a reaction. After all, I’m effectively your...I believe it would be great grand-uncle? And I’m only a few years older than you, as well…”

Jolyne took another bite. “So? It’s just more family. My dad doesn’t even let me see my grand-uncle over in Japan...At least, I think he’s my grand-uncle.”

The blonde sighed. “Well,’s good to meet all of you. I don’t know what it was, but I felt compelled to come here...that limousine you saw has my back-up in case anything goes wrong.”

Gwess raised an eyebrow. “Backup? Aren’t you fancy...what are you, some kind of mafia boss?”

“Yes, actually.”

“...Ah.” She slunk back into her seat. 

Emporio put his hands up on the table, tilting his chin up so he could see everyone. 

“S-So, uh, I have a come Mr. Rangler, Mr. Rykiel, and Mr. Ungalo aren’t allowed to eat over at this table?”

Jolyne pointed over to the corner of the room.

“They’re at the kids’ table.”

Over in the corner of the room, Rykiel, Ungalo, and Lang Rangler were all smushed together at a pathetically tiny table, the tied-up and unconscious Axl RO next to them.

Ungalo picked up the play-doh food he was given and took a bite out of it.

“’s just the guys here, right?”

Lang took a bite of his actual food.


Rykiel sipped some water, wincing from the temperature hurting his teeth.


He smirked, showing off his crooked teeth.

“Then...hottest to least hottest out of the girls. Go.”

Lang shouted at him. “DON’T BE STUPID, DUMBAAAASS!”

Rykiel just looked at him sadly. “Seriously, how low can you be…?”

He took another bite of play-doh food. “Personally, I think blondie’s the hottest. Great ass, big tits, and at least a solid 8. Bird girl ain’t not much to look at up top, but she’s got some real junk in the trunk I can’t ignore. String cheese is pretty sexy, too, but the personality is a minus. Forget about greasy-hair over there, though: Unremarkable in every way. Ugh.”

The two of them just looked at him disgustedly.

“...Don’t you have anything better to do…?”

Axl RO groaned.

Emporio raised his hand again. “And, uh, I have another question...So, now that we’ve gathered up everyone...What now?”

Jolyne stopped eating.

...As did everyone else.

Miu Miu nodded. “The kid brings up a good point. What do we do now that we’ve forced all these sweaty losers into my house?”

She scratched the back of her neck.

“...Uh...I guess we just...wait?”

Miraschon banged her head on the table. “Aw, come ON! You can’t possibly tell me we did all this crap without an end goal! What the fuck was the point of any of this?! Are we just gonna get instructions from some guy stepping out of thin air?!”

On cue, Funny Valentine stepped out from behind the open bathroom door.

“Hello, everyone.”

Everyone reacted with varying degrees of shock, from Giorno just watching with a concerned look on his face, to Rykiel yelping and falling off of his chair. 

Jolyne sighed with relief and wiped away some sweat. 

“(Thank God)...Hey there, Funny. You ready to actually tell us what’s going on?”

He sat at the end of the table and tucked his cravat. 

“Of course. Ahem…”

He put out his hands on the table.

“I would like to inform you all of a few things. Firstly, it’s known that my ability, [ Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap ] , or D4C for short, allows me to jump to parallel universes. Of course, this place is far away from my original dimension, so it takes me a while to come here and back, but aside from that...In the infinite world of dimensions, despite there being a prerequisite for there to be only one D4C out of infinitely many worlds...there is, of course, the statistical certainty that another one would exist. This version of me is using his D4C to search the timelines for more corpse parts, more pieces of the corpse of ‘Jesus Christ’, which--”

Gwess shouted, slamming the table. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY THE CORPSE OF JESUS CHRIST?!”

Giorno frowned. “Calm down…”

“...” He cleared his throat.

“As I was saying, this corpse will give him great power. I had you, Jolyne, attract allies through ‘gravity’ to defeat the agents sent by this version of me. However...your friends appear to have been taking good care of them by themselves.”

Jolyne smiled. “You mean...F.F., Ermes, Weather, Pops, and Anasui are alright?!?

He nodded. “Of course they are. But we still need to retrieve them and take out the utmost threat: myself. I mean, the me from that dimension. I can take around two or three of you per trip to a time period...but I can’t leave you all there to bring others to different periods. It’s an ordered process.”

He stood up, taking out a tightly-folded colorful wad from his pocket. 

“The first time period is the 1880s in England. We’re retrieving your father first, Jolyne. He takes priority...after all, you’re family, right? The daughter of Jotaro Kujo?”

Giorno heard a name he recognized. “(Jotaro...Kujo? Didn't that kid I met back in 2001 also have a friend named Jotaro he wanted to call…?)”

Lang Rangler yawned from the kid’s table. “(Wasn’t that the guy whose stand disc I was trying to snatch? Wonder what he’s actually like in person…)”

Valentine unfolded the wad, revealing a large, cloth colonial-American flag, emblazoned in red, white, and blue. 


He held it up next to him.


“Who would like to go first?”