October 17th, 2013
Speedwagon Foundation HQ
Dallas, Texas branch

It was a quiet affair, at first; the theft of a particular artifact. A dangerous artifact. One possessing unfathomable potential. Its appearance did not well betray its power. It was a mere arrow, to the common man. Granted, one with a seemingly gilded head. It was not gold, however. No, nothing quite as mundane.

Around 50,000 years ago, a meteor crashed near Cape York, Greenland. The crash site, when excavated in 1978, was found to harbor a virus; one unlike the world had ever seen. It was deadly, the government's doctors soon found. However. Those rare few who possessed a certain quality, were able to survive contact. And in turn, were found to have attained supernatural abilities. What became of those doctors and the virus is unknown.

Several hundred years before the excavation, at that same crash site, a man who sought to obtain the power of Gods dared step foot on this 「holy ground」. What became of this man is also unknown. What is known, however, is that it was the ore from that very meteor that was used to make the arrow, and five others just like it.

The thief was William 「Sour Bill」 Sours. Balding, and somewhat overweight, he had a lot he wanted to prove. For a time, all he wanted was to do an honest job for honest pay. It was for this reason he had joined the Speedwagon Foundation in the first place. To do some good, perhaps to even make a real impact on society at large. His efforts did not go unnoticed, or unrewarded. He even turned out to be one of the 「chosen ones」 accepted by the arrow. It was for this reason he was given the privilege of being one of its new guardians.

The desire for power corrupts, however. It was like an addiction to him, slowly eating away at his morality over the months since he first got the new position. He could barely sleep to begin with–a gift given to him by years of abuse–but ever since he became a 「Stand user」, on those sleepless nights, he couldn't help but come to the realization over and over again that he was better than other people. He was 「chosen」, after all.

So on that fateful day, he finally stole the arrow. His heart raced in his chest all the while as he made his way through the largely empty corridors. He made it all the way up to the ground floor before giving a blank nod to other agents as he passed them was no longer enough to avoid any kind of confrontation. Few agents were Stand users like him, and most who were, were out in the field on various humanitarian missions. It was why he had the balls to do what he did.

He was stopped just short of the exit by 5 agents in full riot gear. A single pang of guilt hit him as they questioned why he was away from his post.

"Feeling a bit ill," he droned. Believable enough, he assumed. He was sweating bullets as if he had a high fever.

One of the agents turned to the side to phone the head honcho, something he figured ol' Sour Bill would have done to begin with. Three other agents tuned into the phone call, giving William the opening he needed.

In that moment, all of William's senses were stretched beyond their usual limits. It felt as if time were slowing to a crawl for everyone but himself. Without so much as moving a muscle, he brought out his Stand 「Right On Track」and with all of his might, shoved the palm of its green, solid metal hand into the chest of the sole agent still paying full attention to him, machine gun in hand.

The agent was sent flying through the steel shuttered doors of the exit, as were the two agents standing directly behind him.

Before the other two agents could properly react, William had already sent both of his Stand's detached fists on a crash course with each other, with their heads dead in the center. He didn't expect to become a murderer this soon, but it was unavoidable. And he didn't expect to feel next to nothing after having done it. It was just business.

He walked out of headquarters into the burning afternoon sun, squinted and looked around. He knew the Speedwagon Foundation wouldn't leave him to his own devices, but he was far from ready to take on their full might. So for the time being, he ran.

He had the means to recruit all of the people he needed, after all. People like himself.

Author's Note: As the title suggests, this is a prologue of sorts for Wrecking Man, one of my other stories, though from the point of view of one of the main enemies. I figured that I would put this here as Wrecking Man is rated M for more adult themes that younger readers really shouldn't be subjected to, and thus most people wouldn't even know of this story unless they actively seek out M-rated stories.

William's Stand is named after the song Right On Track by the Breakfast Club.

For those of you unfamiliar with JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, I highly recommend it to get the full experience.