Crunch
Giga God Crunchmeister
. . .Hm.
I guess now is a better time than never to describe this to you.
You, whoever you are.
I don’t know who will be receiving this, but I do hope that it sheds some light on what has been happening as of late, regarding the gang, myself, and. . .our reality as a whole. Yes, reality.
It’s bizarre.
But, only now do I realize that description isn’t so out-of-place in our world, or any worlds that may exist beyond ours. Our world is one that is a bizarre celebration of life, I believe. A celebration being told through a bloodline of warriors, delinquents and tricksters alike. In a way, I guess that’s the most narcissistic thing you could ever say; that the world revolves around such a small selection people. . .but, after everything that has happened, who’s to say anything revolves around anyone anymore?
. . .Excuse me. I’m losing focus. Allow me to start from the beginning.
My name is Giorno Giovanna, formerly known as Haruno Shiobana. I am the boss of Passione - the former drug-trafficking gang that has ruled the region of Naples, Italy for the past decade. I am the son of Dio Brando, a man who has achieved immortality after rejecting his own humanity centuries ago. In reality, I’m the genetic offspring of Jonathan Joestar - the same man who challenged my father centuries ago and lost. My father stole his body, and used it to impregnate a woman - my mother - and create me. I suppose that means I have two fathers, because I inherited traits from both.
My childhood was unremarkably terrible. Yet, something happened that gave me a dream. I met an honorable man, who had won the respect of many people because of his position as a gangster in the local gang. I saved him one time, and he repaid me in influence.
From that point, I, Giorno Giovanna, had a dream to become a gang-star.
Yet, the older I got, the more I realized that the gang had been ruling my hometown - Naples - was corrupt. It lacked honor and solidarity, because it sold drugs to teenagers and it was ruled by a man who desperately wanted to escape his own past. I never learned the true name of the boss. He was simply known as Diavolo - the Emperor.
I resolved to usurp him, and return honor to the gang of Passione. The entire process of that became the first “phase” of my life - before I had come into contact with the multiverse. I can’t go into detail on what happened exactly, that would be too much to describe. Just know that was a long journey. A golden path that made me who I am, and freed me from the shackles of my own fate. But I was the victor, in the end. We were the victors. And Passione would be under my protection for the next three years.
My understanding of the world would be warped on one fateful day, however. The day that I had received a letter from my friend and enforcer, Guido Mista. He had been gone for a few days, doing some business in the country (for Passione, of course). The letter I received was the first moment in three years where I had been. . .unsure.
It was a threat. Not myself, or anyone whom I cared about. It wasn’t even a threat to my gang or my position.
It was a threat to the Arrow. Now is a good time to mention - I’m a stand user. A stand is a manifestation of a person’s fighting spirit and willpower, appearing like a spirit beside them. They’re powerful and strange, and they allow their user to use strange abilities and powers that defy the laws of space, time, reality. . .and even fate. Stands are very rare, and are usually created naturally by individuals of great mental fortitude. However, one way to achieve a stand of great power, is to use an Arrow - ancient artifacts that can awaken a Stand within a user, or in some cases, enhance an existing Stand to incomprehensible power.
This is the power of Requiem. Even I couldn’t understand it when I first experienced it. I somehow knew that whatever it did, it was meant to be.
Diavolo had been attempting to seize an arrow for himself, so that he could unlock the power of Requiem for his stand, King Crimson. I got to it first, and. . .well, he didn't. I resolved to protect the arrow at all costs. It’s been the greatest secret of my gang for the past three years, the idea of someone knowing of its existence was troubling. Just when I went to go grab the arrow, something happened.
A flash of light consumed me, and. . .I was abducted. I was taken from my own world, and thrown into. . .someplace else. Worlds beyond our own worlds - realities beyond what we consider to be our own observable universe, meshed together by some anomalous event.
This was the Time Crisis. This would be the second “phase” of my life. It was when I, Giorno Giovanna, was exposed to the multiverse. I don’t know how long it lasted, exactly, but it’s impact shifted the tides for the coming storm. It was there where I met people who were from other worlds. Some were much like our own, and others were wildly different. Some of them were superheroes, and others were magicians. Some were gods, and others were hedgehogs. It was bizarre, but I knew from the beginning that it was a challenge that I had to overcome.
Dorian Pavus, James Howlett, Danielle Cage, Shichika Yasuri, Seisa Mikagura. These were just a few people that I had come to know. I only knew them for a brief time. . .yet, we were allies. It reminded me of when I first met Bruno, Mista, Narancia, Fugo and Abbacchio. It was so natural, as if they were my own family.
No surprise, of course. They say the blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb. I find that saying relevant, even now, as I describe this to you.
It was also where I had met my father, Dio Brando. It seemed as if he was taken from my world as well. At the time, I didn’t realize that he was already dead in our world before I could even remember - somehow, he had been brought back to life. . .or perhaps taken from a time period years before I was born, when he was still alive.
I hope that it’s the latter case, because I do not believe a man like that deserves the gift of reincarnation. It was during that crisis where I saw his. . .his entirety. I believe that true evil is that which is based in ‘reality’. Superficial evil is what others see when they describe evil - insanity, paranoia, or just megalomania. That is what fueled Diavolo. But my father was all of those things, and none of them contributed to his evil, for he was true evil. It was all real, and any reality that would come to pass would involve him remaining evil. He was one who took. He never gave, and he never inherited. He would take life, freedom and honor from others, and use it to fuel his own ambitions. That is Dio Brando. And I did things to prevent him from taking the freedom of another.
I do not regret it, however.
I have a dream that I know is just.
Fate would have it that Dio was killed by another person in the group. I found the resolve to disconnect myself from him, despite his. . .reaction to what I did. I won’t soon forget the simple words Shichika told me afterwards.
I would not ‘inherit’ my father’s cruelty. What I will do is ‘inherit’ his strength for my own. Use it to achieve my own goals and ambitions. The taint of his blood will always remain with me, but that will not stop me from using that power for the shining path I will onwards.
It’s what he would’ve wanted.
. . .I think he deserves that, at least.
But I knew, even after returning and saying farewell to my friends and allies, that I would see my father again, very soon.
As I traveled back from one ‘reality’ to another, these words appeared in my mind.
And that is where it all began.
<That which we have inherited from the departed must be taken onwards.>
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Why did those words appear in Giorno Giovanna's head all of a sudden? There was no stimulus in this vast, psychedelic expanse that could trigger those words to resurface at the front of his mind, but they came as the boy was being brought home. His body was suspended in a sea of emptiness, softly carrying him from one world to the next - a by-product of inter-universal travel, if that is the correct term to use. Giorno couldn't hope to comprehend the vibrant lights that flew past him through the blank void as he traveled, which is probably why his mind was occupied with old quotes on top of events that he had just experienced.
". . .Hm."
The pain and revelations of a crisis in time and space, clashing with memories of Giorno's own moment of self-actualization in the face of a superficial evil. What cruel tricks the mind plays on us, sometimes. The young mob boss could still see somewhat in the buffet of lights, however. His eyes drifted down to his own chest, where he saw an imprint of some object tucked safely within his coat. He knew it was there, but better instinct dictated he check again.
Giorno ran through another checklist in his mind. Thankfully, his unbreakable dedication to his own plots trumps his tendency to think about days of the past. As soon as Giorno returns to his office, he'll need to find out the meaning of the letter he'd gotten prior to the crisis. Before Giorno had ended up a victim of the convergence, he'd received a letter from his friend and most trusted enforcer, Guido Mista, which he'd thought was a mission report. Rather, it was a cryptic threat against the one secret Don Giorno Giovanna had kept locked away in Passione for the last several years.
The Arrow - an object that is capable of creating new stand users, as well as enhancing existing stands to the point of -
FLASH!
"!"
Catching him off guard, Giorno squinted as a flash of bright light consumed his vision, accompanied by a sudden shift in movement. The bizarre feeling of floating escaped his being, and the sounds of wind, birds and rumbling sea shores returned to his ears. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw his own two feet standing on a fine red rug.
His red rug.
"I'm. . .back in Naples?"
Giorno tilted his head upwards, opening his eyes fully to find himself standing right near the open window to his private office, which overlook the humble city bustle and bright blue harbors of Naples, Italy. The boss knew it was no illusion, because he was almost immediately assaulted with the warm smell of fresh pizza being carried on the wind - he was definitely in Italy. A reassured smile crept across Giorno's face when he took a moment to get his bearings. He hadn't actually seen the view of Naples in awhile. It was nice, in a bizarre way.
Keeping his view on the city, Giorno turned his head slightly and called out.
"Candire, I'm back. Could you come in here, please?"
. . .
No response.
Giorno blinked a few times, still not turning around. Candire, the young, personal messenger of Don Giorno, was usually found working nearby Giorno's own office, filing out messages and relaying them to the rest of the gang whenever Fugo wasn't able.
"You know I don't like repeating myself, Candire. Could you please come in here?"
. . .
No response.
Giorno sighed, beginning to turn around. He'd resolve to get in contact with Fugo about the letter, then. It didn't immediately occur to Giorno that he'd been gone for an unknowable amount of time since his 'abduction'. It's entirely possible that the rest of the gang might be looking for him, but the determined boss was more focused on getting his foot back in the soil.
Giorno turned fully.
"Cand--"
"--!!"
The sight almost threw Giorno off his feet. Contrasting the bright, sunny view from the window, the bosses office looked as if a tornado had run through it. Shattered floorboards dot the office like potholes, filled with cracked, overturned filing cabinets and torn, dusty shreds of paper hanging off of the shards of wood. Broken antiques of gold and silver lay spilled across the ruined office, as if intentionally thrown about like toys by someone seeking to cause damage, or attract the ire of its owner. This wasn’t anything that could anger Giorno, but it left him confused.
"What. . .happened?"
Giorno stepped forward, looking upon the ruined office with stark confusion. Judging by the complete lack of noise that would usually come emanating from throughout the gang's headquarters, it seemed as if the entire building was empty. Candire, Fugo, even Polnareff's turtle were missing. A chill ran up the boy's spine like a rodent, prompting him to clench his fist and keep his eyes darting around for an enemy.
Something crunched under his feet. Giorno cast his gaze down, and found a tattered piece of torn paper underneath his foot. The very same letter he recieved from "Mista" before any of this nonsense occurred.
And then, movement.
Someone kicked their legs up on the shattered desk. Giorno’s cold glare was cast upon the shadow in an instant, and a shimmering glow of golden coloration began to form around his hands. He moved without thinking, stepping over the torn paper and slowly walking forward towards the shadow.
It calmly raised a hand.
“You have no reason to so antagonistic towards me, Giorno Giovanna.”
View attachment 2242
Giorno didn’t break his gaze, showing no emotion in the face of the voice’s taunting. “I don’t intend on letting you leave this place alive, so you shouldn’t waste your breath trying to explain yourself. I’ve already decided what I’m going to do, anyway.”
“Oh? You’re going to kill me? Hm! That doesn’t help your case, does it?”
“I was going to do that after your first punishment,” Giorno coldly remarked, now entering within proper range of the enemy. Gold Experience was almost completely visible now, materializing behind it’s user in a golden shimmer with it’s fists raised. “You’ve made a terrible choice, interfering with my office and my allies, and now you’ll be paid in full."
Giorno gave the shadowy figure pause, as it twitched it’s fingers. Though, it only responded with a deep chuckle, slowly raising in energy and pride. “You don’t have the strength to do that again, Giorno! No strength in your mind, or intention, or even your Stand!” It boasted, rising from it’s seat, and turning to face his killer.
Giorno saw the opportunity to land a blow on the enemy’s face. With no regard to who or what it was, Giorno leaned to the right and allowed for Gold Experience’s fist to come flying out, slugging the stranger in the face and --
“But, there is a truth of this world, Giorno Giovanna. . .”
“ -- ?!”
BZZZZZZT
-- hitting absolutely nothing because he was on the floor.
View attachment 2240
“GAH!”
There was nothing to punch. There was nothing there. In fact, Giorno didn’t punch anything because he was on the floor. He registered an intense pain in his backside, causing him to cough a glob of blood on the carpet. Kneeling upright and turning around to find the stranger, he would see no stranger standing there, above him.
He would see Him.
View attachment 2231
“. . .the past cannot be erased like time. Try as hard as you can to kill it. . .it will come crawling out from the stone, like a worm.”
Giorno’s eyes lost all confidence they had just a few moments ago. They were wide like dinner plates, staring at the living devil. There, Diavolo stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed as he gazed upon his greatest adversary with sadistic glee in his maddened, blood-shot eyes. Three years of endless torment in a constant cycle of life and death have left a mark of insanity and shattered thought upon the old boss, with his excited, haggard breathing and his twitching, anticipated fingers. His bright-pink hair was practically dripping with grease, as his hands were equally dripping with blood. Cruelty given a medium. Psychopathy given shape.
Floating nearby Diavolo was his own stand, King Crimson. It’s body was of a similar build to Diavolo, but somehow much larger and imposing. Its eyes comprise sharp orifices of a steep inward slant; from which emerge small, round fish-like eyes that have the same fragmented pupils that Diavolo himself has. From its forehead emerges a smaller, oval face of the same expression - pure, unbridled rage.
“Y- you. . . how did you escape the cycle?”
View attachment 2232
Diavolo laughed again. “So you DO know what you did you me, you fucking insect? You think you can judge me, after submitting me to three years of endless, looping death? Three years of dying, reviving, suffering, and dying again. . .and again. Over and over and over and over for THREE YEARS! AND I STILL REMAINED! The endless cycle of death couldn’t even claim me!
"HA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
Diavolo roared with unhinged laughter, clawing at his temples and shambling forward. Clear streams of blood oozed from the open wounds he had dug into his own skull. Yet, he didn’t react.
“You didn’t even know what the capabilities of ‘Requiem’ were, and you still managed to lose it. To think that someone like you had run my gang for three years. . .PATHETIC!” Diavolo barked, swinging his leg back and delivering a kick to Giorno’s jaw. Another spitake of blood stained the carpet underneath Giorno, who scrambled back onto a knee. “I escaped the loop of Requiem because of Him. By His will, I was given a second chance to reclaim the empire of Naples that you had stolen from me.”
“. . .Him. . .who. . .who is Him?”
View attachment 2233
“It doesn’t matter if I tell you. You’re going to be erased from this world by my King Crimson. . .and you will never understand why this has happened to you. Why the letter brought you to that place, and why you couldn’t protect the Arrow.”
Giorno’s hand flew to his jacket, and the imprint of the Arrow was missing. Diavolo looked down at his hand and withdrew it - a long, ornate golden arrow. It’s head was decorated with the image of a ladybug. Giorno reached a hand out instinctively, but King Crimson appeared over him, slamming it’s foot down on top of it.
Giorno seemed in pain, but he cast a defiant glare up at Diavolo.
View attachment 2241
". . .Hm. You don't know what to do with that arrow, do you? You're just going to kill me, and then fade away. All of the Stand users in Naples have already been killed by either you or me. . .it's truly useless to try and take over Passione now."
"Are you pleading for your life, scum?"
"I'm telling you that your life has lost meaning. If you wanted to escape the loop of death, you should've just stopped and died once. There's nothing left here."
"What do you think you'll get out of this, boss?"
". . .Ha."
"I'm sure you know, Giorno."
"The multiverse is the next stage."
"-- ?!"
“The Arrow is the greatest power of his reality! And soon, it will be the greatest power of the multiverse. But. . .I won’t be the one to share this power. I will end my fears right this instance. . .by bring the power of Requiem to my King Crimson, and killing you here and now,” Diavolo cackled, raising the Arrow in the air. It glistened in the window’s sunlight, poised to pierce King Crimson as it retreated to his side. Diavolo was overcome with his own mania, laughing and roaring with delight as Giorno rose to his feet.
View attachment 2235
“THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE TRUTH OF REALITY! TO CRUSH FEAR IS WHAT IT MEANS TO LIVE! AND I, DIAVOLO, WILL OVERCOME THIS CHALLENGE!”
“DIAVOLO IS THE EMPEROR! AND NOTHING WILL EVER CHANGE THAT!”
“NOW DIE, GIORNOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Giorno let his body move with fate. Gold Experience shot forward from his body, letting it’s fists fly freely at King Crimson. The two stands reacted to each-others movements, recoiling and charging forward to meet fists.
“GOLD EXPERIENCE!”
“KING CRIMSON!”
*CRAASH!*
Giorno could feel it in his own knuckles, as Gold Experience’s fists impacted with something solid. A look of resolve filled him as he prepared to continue with a barrage of punches, but when the blindness of battle subsided, he realized that he was looking at himself.
A faded image of Giorno was in front of Giorno, looking back at him with a similar expression. His senses were overcome with some unnatural energy, as the world around Giorno and Diavolo was consumed in the altering of reality. It appeared as if Giorno was rising towards a bleak, crimson sky on a pillar of nothingness, and he couldn’t see, hear, speak or do anything at all. He was completely paralyzed, stuck in a realm between worlds. He could somehow feel it happening, but could not react.
And King Crimson remained behind him, staring down with a rage-filled glare and raising it’s hand up above Giorno’s head.
View attachment 2246
“You utter fool."
"King Crimson has already activated.”
“What you just saw. . .”
“What you just touched. . .”
“. . .was your future self!”
King Crimson held it’s hand above Giorno’s shoulder, poised to bring it down upon him in a chopping motion that would easily cleave his body in two.
“Allow me to finish this for you.”
The King’s hand fell.
And everything was about to end.
I guess now is a better time than never to describe this to you.
You, whoever you are.
I don’t know who will be receiving this, but I do hope that it sheds some light on what has been happening as of late, regarding the gang, myself, and. . .our reality as a whole. Yes, reality.
It’s bizarre.
But, only now do I realize that description isn’t so out-of-place in our world, or any worlds that may exist beyond ours. Our world is one that is a bizarre celebration of life, I believe. A celebration being told through a bloodline of warriors, delinquents and tricksters alike. In a way, I guess that’s the most narcissistic thing you could ever say; that the world revolves around such a small selection people. . .but, after everything that has happened, who’s to say anything revolves around anyone anymore?
. . .Excuse me. I’m losing focus. Allow me to start from the beginning.
My name is Giorno Giovanna, formerly known as Haruno Shiobana. I am the boss of Passione - the former drug-trafficking gang that has ruled the region of Naples, Italy for the past decade. I am the son of Dio Brando, a man who has achieved immortality after rejecting his own humanity centuries ago. In reality, I’m the genetic offspring of Jonathan Joestar - the same man who challenged my father centuries ago and lost. My father stole his body, and used it to impregnate a woman - my mother - and create me. I suppose that means I have two fathers, because I inherited traits from both.
My childhood was unremarkably terrible. Yet, something happened that gave me a dream. I met an honorable man, who had won the respect of many people because of his position as a gangster in the local gang. I saved him one time, and he repaid me in influence.
From that point, I, Giorno Giovanna, had a dream to become a gang-star.
Yet, the older I got, the more I realized that the gang had been ruling my hometown - Naples - was corrupt. It lacked honor and solidarity, because it sold drugs to teenagers and it was ruled by a man who desperately wanted to escape his own past. I never learned the true name of the boss. He was simply known as Diavolo - the Emperor.
I resolved to usurp him, and return honor to the gang of Passione. The entire process of that became the first “phase” of my life - before I had come into contact with the multiverse. I can’t go into detail on what happened exactly, that would be too much to describe. Just know that was a long journey. A golden path that made me who I am, and freed me from the shackles of my own fate. But I was the victor, in the end. We were the victors. And Passione would be under my protection for the next three years.
My understanding of the world would be warped on one fateful day, however. The day that I had received a letter from my friend and enforcer, Guido Mista. He had been gone for a few days, doing some business in the country (for Passione, of course). The letter I received was the first moment in three years where I had been. . .unsure.
It was a threat. Not myself, or anyone whom I cared about. It wasn’t even a threat to my gang or my position.
It was a threat to the Arrow. Now is a good time to mention - I’m a stand user. A stand is a manifestation of a person’s fighting spirit and willpower, appearing like a spirit beside them. They’re powerful and strange, and they allow their user to use strange abilities and powers that defy the laws of space, time, reality. . .and even fate. Stands are very rare, and are usually created naturally by individuals of great mental fortitude. However, one way to achieve a stand of great power, is to use an Arrow - ancient artifacts that can awaken a Stand within a user, or in some cases, enhance an existing Stand to incomprehensible power.
This is the power of Requiem. Even I couldn’t understand it when I first experienced it. I somehow knew that whatever it did, it was meant to be.
Diavolo had been attempting to seize an arrow for himself, so that he could unlock the power of Requiem for his stand, King Crimson. I got to it first, and. . .well, he didn't. I resolved to protect the arrow at all costs. It’s been the greatest secret of my gang for the past three years, the idea of someone knowing of its existence was troubling. Just when I went to go grab the arrow, something happened.
A flash of light consumed me, and. . .I was abducted. I was taken from my own world, and thrown into. . .someplace else. Worlds beyond our own worlds - realities beyond what we consider to be our own observable universe, meshed together by some anomalous event.
This was the Time Crisis. This would be the second “phase” of my life. It was when I, Giorno Giovanna, was exposed to the multiverse. I don’t know how long it lasted, exactly, but it’s impact shifted the tides for the coming storm. It was there where I met people who were from other worlds. Some were much like our own, and others were wildly different. Some of them were superheroes, and others were magicians. Some were gods, and others were hedgehogs. It was bizarre, but I knew from the beginning that it was a challenge that I had to overcome.
Dorian Pavus, James Howlett, Danielle Cage, Shichika Yasuri, Seisa Mikagura. These were just a few people that I had come to know. I only knew them for a brief time. . .yet, we were allies. It reminded me of when I first met Bruno, Mista, Narancia, Fugo and Abbacchio. It was so natural, as if they were my own family.
No surprise, of course. They say the blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb. I find that saying relevant, even now, as I describe this to you.
It was also where I had met my father, Dio Brando. It seemed as if he was taken from my world as well. At the time, I didn’t realize that he was already dead in our world before I could even remember - somehow, he had been brought back to life. . .or perhaps taken from a time period years before I was born, when he was still alive.
I hope that it’s the latter case, because I do not believe a man like that deserves the gift of reincarnation. It was during that crisis where I saw his. . .his entirety. I believe that true evil is that which is based in ‘reality’. Superficial evil is what others see when they describe evil - insanity, paranoia, or just megalomania. That is what fueled Diavolo. But my father was all of those things, and none of them contributed to his evil, for he was true evil. It was all real, and any reality that would come to pass would involve him remaining evil. He was one who took. He never gave, and he never inherited. He would take life, freedom and honor from others, and use it to fuel his own ambitions. That is Dio Brando. And I did things to prevent him from taking the freedom of another.
I do not regret it, however.
I have a dream that I know is just.
Fate would have it that Dio was killed by another person in the group. I found the resolve to disconnect myself from him, despite his. . .reaction to what I did. I won’t soon forget the simple words Shichika told me afterwards.
I would not ‘inherit’ my father’s cruelty. What I will do is ‘inherit’ his strength for my own. Use it to achieve my own goals and ambitions. The taint of his blood will always remain with me, but that will not stop me from using that power for the shining path I will onwards.
It’s what he would’ve wanted.
. . .I think he deserves that, at least.
But I knew, even after returning and saying farewell to my friends and allies, that I would see my father again, very soon.
As I traveled back from one ‘reality’ to another, these words appeared in my mind.
And that is where it all began.
<That which we have inherited from the departed must be taken onwards.>
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Why did those words appear in Giorno Giovanna's head all of a sudden? There was no stimulus in this vast, psychedelic expanse that could trigger those words to resurface at the front of his mind, but they came as the boy was being brought home. His body was suspended in a sea of emptiness, softly carrying him from one world to the next - a by-product of inter-universal travel, if that is the correct term to use. Giorno couldn't hope to comprehend the vibrant lights that flew past him through the blank void as he traveled, which is probably why his mind was occupied with old quotes on top of events that he had just experienced.
". . .Hm."
The pain and revelations of a crisis in time and space, clashing with memories of Giorno's own moment of self-actualization in the face of a superficial evil. What cruel tricks the mind plays on us, sometimes. The young mob boss could still see somewhat in the buffet of lights, however. His eyes drifted down to his own chest, where he saw an imprint of some object tucked safely within his coat. He knew it was there, but better instinct dictated he check again.
Giorno ran through another checklist in his mind. Thankfully, his unbreakable dedication to his own plots trumps his tendency to think about days of the past. As soon as Giorno returns to his office, he'll need to find out the meaning of the letter he'd gotten prior to the crisis. Before Giorno had ended up a victim of the convergence, he'd received a letter from his friend and most trusted enforcer, Guido Mista, which he'd thought was a mission report. Rather, it was a cryptic threat against the one secret Don Giorno Giovanna had kept locked away in Passione for the last several years.
The Arrow - an object that is capable of creating new stand users, as well as enhancing existing stands to the point of -
FLASH!
"!"
Catching him off guard, Giorno squinted as a flash of bright light consumed his vision, accompanied by a sudden shift in movement. The bizarre feeling of floating escaped his being, and the sounds of wind, birds and rumbling sea shores returned to his ears. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw his own two feet standing on a fine red rug.
His red rug.
"I'm. . .back in Naples?"
Giorno tilted his head upwards, opening his eyes fully to find himself standing right near the open window to his private office, which overlook the humble city bustle and bright blue harbors of Naples, Italy. The boss knew it was no illusion, because he was almost immediately assaulted with the warm smell of fresh pizza being carried on the wind - he was definitely in Italy. A reassured smile crept across Giorno's face when he took a moment to get his bearings. He hadn't actually seen the view of Naples in awhile. It was nice, in a bizarre way.
Keeping his view on the city, Giorno turned his head slightly and called out.
"Candire, I'm back. Could you come in here, please?"
. . .
No response.
Giorno blinked a few times, still not turning around. Candire, the young, personal messenger of Don Giorno, was usually found working nearby Giorno's own office, filing out messages and relaying them to the rest of the gang whenever Fugo wasn't able.
"You know I don't like repeating myself, Candire. Could you please come in here?"
. . .
No response.
Giorno sighed, beginning to turn around. He'd resolve to get in contact with Fugo about the letter, then. It didn't immediately occur to Giorno that he'd been gone for an unknowable amount of time since his 'abduction'. It's entirely possible that the rest of the gang might be looking for him, but the determined boss was more focused on getting his foot back in the soil.
Giorno turned fully.
"Cand--"
"--!!"
The sight almost threw Giorno off his feet. Contrasting the bright, sunny view from the window, the bosses office looked as if a tornado had run through it. Shattered floorboards dot the office like potholes, filled with cracked, overturned filing cabinets and torn, dusty shreds of paper hanging off of the shards of wood. Broken antiques of gold and silver lay spilled across the ruined office, as if intentionally thrown about like toys by someone seeking to cause damage, or attract the ire of its owner. This wasn’t anything that could anger Giorno, but it left him confused.
"What. . .happened?"
Giorno stepped forward, looking upon the ruined office with stark confusion. Judging by the complete lack of noise that would usually come emanating from throughout the gang's headquarters, it seemed as if the entire building was empty. Candire, Fugo, even Polnareff's turtle were missing. A chill ran up the boy's spine like a rodent, prompting him to clench his fist and keep his eyes darting around for an enemy.
Something crunched under his feet. Giorno cast his gaze down, and found a tattered piece of torn paper underneath his foot. The very same letter he recieved from "Mista" before any of this nonsense occurred.
And then, movement.
Someone kicked their legs up on the shattered desk. Giorno’s cold glare was cast upon the shadow in an instant, and a shimmering glow of golden coloration began to form around his hands. He moved without thinking, stepping over the torn paper and slowly walking forward towards the shadow.
It calmly raised a hand.
“You have no reason to so antagonistic towards me, Giorno Giovanna.”
View attachment 2242
Giorno didn’t break his gaze, showing no emotion in the face of the voice’s taunting. “I don’t intend on letting you leave this place alive, so you shouldn’t waste your breath trying to explain yourself. I’ve already decided what I’m going to do, anyway.”
“Oh? You’re going to kill me? Hm! That doesn’t help your case, does it?”
“I was going to do that after your first punishment,” Giorno coldly remarked, now entering within proper range of the enemy. Gold Experience was almost completely visible now, materializing behind it’s user in a golden shimmer with it’s fists raised. “You’ve made a terrible choice, interfering with my office and my allies, and now you’ll be paid in full."
Giorno gave the shadowy figure pause, as it twitched it’s fingers. Though, it only responded with a deep chuckle, slowly raising in energy and pride. “You don’t have the strength to do that again, Giorno! No strength in your mind, or intention, or even your Stand!” It boasted, rising from it’s seat, and turning to face his killer.
Giorno saw the opportunity to land a blow on the enemy’s face. With no regard to who or what it was, Giorno leaned to the right and allowed for Gold Experience’s fist to come flying out, slugging the stranger in the face and --
“But, there is a truth of this world, Giorno Giovanna. . .”
“ -- ?!”
BZZZZZZT
-- hitting absolutely nothing because he was on the floor.
View attachment 2240
“GAH!”
There was nothing to punch. There was nothing there. In fact, Giorno didn’t punch anything because he was on the floor. He registered an intense pain in his backside, causing him to cough a glob of blood on the carpet. Kneeling upright and turning around to find the stranger, he would see no stranger standing there, above him.
He would see Him.
View attachment 2231
“. . .the past cannot be erased like time. Try as hard as you can to kill it. . .it will come crawling out from the stone, like a worm.”
Giorno’s eyes lost all confidence they had just a few moments ago. They were wide like dinner plates, staring at the living devil. There, Diavolo stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed as he gazed upon his greatest adversary with sadistic glee in his maddened, blood-shot eyes. Three years of endless torment in a constant cycle of life and death have left a mark of insanity and shattered thought upon the old boss, with his excited, haggard breathing and his twitching, anticipated fingers. His bright-pink hair was practically dripping with grease, as his hands were equally dripping with blood. Cruelty given a medium. Psychopathy given shape.
Floating nearby Diavolo was his own stand, King Crimson. It’s body was of a similar build to Diavolo, but somehow much larger and imposing. Its eyes comprise sharp orifices of a steep inward slant; from which emerge small, round fish-like eyes that have the same fragmented pupils that Diavolo himself has. From its forehead emerges a smaller, oval face of the same expression - pure, unbridled rage.
“Y- you. . . how did you escape the cycle?”
View attachment 2232
Diavolo laughed again. “So you DO know what you did you me, you fucking insect? You think you can judge me, after submitting me to three years of endless, looping death? Three years of dying, reviving, suffering, and dying again. . .and again. Over and over and over and over for THREE YEARS! AND I STILL REMAINED! The endless cycle of death couldn’t even claim me!
"HA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
Diavolo roared with unhinged laughter, clawing at his temples and shambling forward. Clear streams of blood oozed from the open wounds he had dug into his own skull. Yet, he didn’t react.
“You didn’t even know what the capabilities of ‘Requiem’ were, and you still managed to lose it. To think that someone like you had run my gang for three years. . .PATHETIC!” Diavolo barked, swinging his leg back and delivering a kick to Giorno’s jaw. Another spitake of blood stained the carpet underneath Giorno, who scrambled back onto a knee. “I escaped the loop of Requiem because of Him. By His will, I was given a second chance to reclaim the empire of Naples that you had stolen from me.”
“. . .Him. . .who. . .who is Him?”
View attachment 2233
“It doesn’t matter if I tell you. You’re going to be erased from this world by my King Crimson. . .and you will never understand why this has happened to you. Why the letter brought you to that place, and why you couldn’t protect the Arrow.”
Giorno’s hand flew to his jacket, and the imprint of the Arrow was missing. Diavolo looked down at his hand and withdrew it - a long, ornate golden arrow. It’s head was decorated with the image of a ladybug. Giorno reached a hand out instinctively, but King Crimson appeared over him, slamming it’s foot down on top of it.
Giorno seemed in pain, but he cast a defiant glare up at Diavolo.
View attachment 2241
". . .Hm. You don't know what to do with that arrow, do you? You're just going to kill me, and then fade away. All of the Stand users in Naples have already been killed by either you or me. . .it's truly useless to try and take over Passione now."
"Are you pleading for your life, scum?"
"I'm telling you that your life has lost meaning. If you wanted to escape the loop of death, you should've just stopped and died once. There's nothing left here."
"What do you think you'll get out of this, boss?"
". . .Ha."
"I'm sure you know, Giorno."
"The multiverse is the next stage."
"-- ?!"
“The Arrow is the greatest power of his reality! And soon, it will be the greatest power of the multiverse. But. . .I won’t be the one to share this power. I will end my fears right this instance. . .by bring the power of Requiem to my King Crimson, and killing you here and now,” Diavolo cackled, raising the Arrow in the air. It glistened in the window’s sunlight, poised to pierce King Crimson as it retreated to his side. Diavolo was overcome with his own mania, laughing and roaring with delight as Giorno rose to his feet.
View attachment 2235
“THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE TRUTH OF REALITY! TO CRUSH FEAR IS WHAT IT MEANS TO LIVE! AND I, DIAVOLO, WILL OVERCOME THIS CHALLENGE!”
“DIAVOLO IS THE EMPEROR! AND NOTHING WILL EVER CHANGE THAT!”
“NOW DIE, GIORNOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Giorno let his body move with fate. Gold Experience shot forward from his body, letting it’s fists fly freely at King Crimson. The two stands reacted to each-others movements, recoiling and charging forward to meet fists.
“GOLD EXPERIENCE!”
“KING CRIMSON!”
*CRAASH!*
Giorno could feel it in his own knuckles, as Gold Experience’s fists impacted with something solid. A look of resolve filled him as he prepared to continue with a barrage of punches, but when the blindness of battle subsided, he realized that he was looking at himself.
A faded image of Giorno was in front of Giorno, looking back at him with a similar expression. His senses were overcome with some unnatural energy, as the world around Giorno and Diavolo was consumed in the altering of reality. It appeared as if Giorno was rising towards a bleak, crimson sky on a pillar of nothingness, and he couldn’t see, hear, speak or do anything at all. He was completely paralyzed, stuck in a realm between worlds. He could somehow feel it happening, but could not react.
And King Crimson remained behind him, staring down with a rage-filled glare and raising it’s hand up above Giorno’s head.
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“You utter fool."
"King Crimson has already activated.”
“What you just saw. . .”
“What you just touched. . .”
“. . .was your future self!”
King Crimson held it’s hand above Giorno’s shoulder, poised to bring it down upon him in a chopping motion that would easily cleave his body in two.
“Allow me to finish this for you.”
The King’s hand fell.
And everything was about to end.
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