DISCLAIMER: The following is a nonprofit fanfic. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is property of Hirohiko Araki, Shueisha, Super Techno Arts, Studio A.P.P.P., David Production and Viz Media. Please support the official release. I only own the OC's.

This my first time writing a story in a 1st person POV and to save descriptions about the OC here I have a sketch: sta . sh / 0fzgj62ys5g, just put it in the url bar and erase the spaces. At first it was in spanish, I thought it in english wrote it in spanish for my hispanic friends and returned it to its original state here... kind of confusing but it was kinda a translation both ways.

The cover isn't mine, a friend made it some years ago for a Jojo's fancomic project that was going to have the OCs of some latin american friends from the JJBALA facebook group, you should visit his dA profile: diogamma . deviantart . com

He even had the first chapter with his OC and some of them sent us the first chapter of their stories (in spanish of course, we wanted to make a marvel-like arc where each character quest was going to affect the main quest and the others at some degree) but the project just went cold.

Well, without further ado, we begin. Enjoy it.

Monday — March 17th, 2XXX

To you, my loyal reader:

Today I arrived like always, in my motorcycle with a laptop in the backpack. When entering the office of "Digital crimes" of the MI6 everything was chaos. My fellow workers were in despair for a strange virus that had attacked the servers of the Secret Service of Great Britain.

I went to my cubicle quickly and, laptop at hand —you know that I can do it without her but people would look at me like some kind of weirdo —, got into the terminal of my workstation from the prompt.

The laptop has an operative system programmed completely by me so it entered in the signal of the office without calling the attention of the virus. As soon as I got into the data flow I closed the door and with Computer eyes started to unravel the algorithm of this malicious program.

Apparently, the programmer was really careless… or pretty clever; because I understood the algorithmic patron that had all my team workers screaming like girls in the blink of an eye. Using a routine I had programmed back in middle school, I cut this menace from the root.

Suddenly, all the servers collapsed and the energy in the entire building followed them. Mi terminal, of course, had to suffer the same destiny… but it wasn't.

The screen was off, like the regulators and other electronic goods, however a lonely green light was flickering in the glass. It made it look like these PC's from the 60's when everything was made in a prompt and there weren't interfaces per se.

I slowly opened the door to be sure if the other computers had the same anomaly, but they weren't, they were still waiting for the return of the energy provided for the emergency generator of the Vauxhall Cross.

I returned to my chair and then, many characters appeared in the screen… they looked like the way I see the information flow with Computer eyes.

When the information rain ended, many of them occupied a specific place in the screen, like a mud spatter, and whatever had no sense it had it right now… it was a message.

I activated Computer eyes andrecorded the image in the most recondite place in my mind, when you have a machine related ability your body starts to assimilate mechanical characteristics… or that's what is happening to me since some years ago.

WHAT'S UP, LONDON BOY?

OR SHOULD I CALL YOU, NICOLE FITZGERALD?

I haven't heard that name in five years. I thought, it was true, longing flooded my heart and I remembered the days when grandma called me Nickie or how grandpa told me Nick,these were the good ol' times…

Returning with what is concerning us, the message didn't ended there because it now said:

SURPRISED, AREN'T YOU?

YOU SHOULD BE WONDERING "HOW THE HELL DOES IT KNOWS MY NAME?"

THAT ISN'T IMPORTANT… RIGHT NOW

BECAUSE I HAVE SOMETHING YOU NEED

AND YOU DO SOMETHING I NEED

AND NO, I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT YOUR PUNY BILLIARD SKILLS

YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT

WELCOME TO THE MACHINE…

I started to sweat like a pig, I can understand that somebody knows about London Boy but, Welcome to the machine? Even my grandparents couldn't know about it.

Welcome to the machine is the secret I thought to take to the grave ergo it was impossible for somebody to know about it… and so I say was because now somebody noticed it and the worst of all this is that I don't know how long does it know about it.

I started to chew my fingers, an old habit from my childhood that returns when I am nervous or anxious.

STOP CHEWING YOUR FINGERS… IT DOESN'T LOOK NICE IN A PRETTY GIRL LIKE YOU

IN SPITE OF IT BEING NORMAL IN YOU

I THINK YOU MUST USE AGAIN THAT GARLIC FLAVORED NAIL POLISH

THERE IS A BOTTLE IN THE DRAWER OF YOUR DESK

IF YOU WISH YOU CAN CHECK AND MAKE YOURSELF THE FAVVOR TO USE IT BEFORE FINISHING YOUR SHIFT.

That was what warned me that whoever was that… or whatever it was sending this message was observing me right now. The course of action now would be to dispose of its eyes.

Calling again Computer eyes I found every nearby camera and lifting my left hand, snapping my fingers, the other side of my power got into action.

Computer reign wasactivated at the same time that gauntlet materialized itself in my hand, and the lenses of the security cameras fixed their attention to the elevator door, that was in the contrary side of my cubicle.

WHAT A WASTE OF TIME AND ENERGY, MISS FITZGERALD

I AM NOT AN IDIOT TO USE THESE RUDIMENTARY EYES

I'LL SKIP THAT OFFENSE TO MY INTELLIGENCE AND WILL GO TO THE POINT

WE KNOW WBOUT THE BLACK AT. VALENTINE DAY

WE KNOW THAT IT WASN'T A NORMAL ATTACK

WE KNOW HOW IT HAPPENED

WE WILL TELL YOU

… BUT EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD HAS A COST

AS I TOLD YOU BEFORE, YOU DO SOMETHING WE NEED

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW THAT INFORMATION

COME TO THE ST. PATRICK CHURCH, ALONE

WE KNOW WHAT YOU DO, WE DON'T WANT YOU TO PLAY THE SMARTASS BRINGING ONE OF YOUR TOYS

WE WILL WAIT FOR YOU AT MIDNIGHT WITH THE ANSWER TO OUR PROPOSAL IN MIND

UNTIL MIDNIGHT, MISS FITZGERALD.

The screen went off and after that, the generator of the building at least started to work, returning the servers to their normal activity.

The rest of the afternoon I spent it searching for some loss of information in the data base. Apparently they had only stole the bank account numbers of over the half of the employees and now the Financial Department was reporting it, waiting to not suffer millionaire losses for the staff. The aggressor had only taken part of the founds of each account.

But there s something that doesn't fall into place, and these were the records of a meteorite that fell in Earth many years ago, how do I know it? Some technopath tricks I don't share. To be honest I don't know how they are related, but I won't report it to the high ranks because it seemed to be the real target of that people.

If I open my mouth surely they won't give me what I need and being honest, I don't give a fuck about the MI6. In the end they aren't more than a way to my goals, and now I have a shorter path, I don't care about them.

Wish me success in this quest, because luck is for weaklings and idiots.

With love and yours to the grave

Nicole Fitzgerald

Well, that was the first chapter and I don't promise to write more in a regular basis, my job and school are pretty absorbent this time. The next chapter will have a 3rd person POV and the next a 1st person and so on.

For the references:

*Naked robot is a song by The Alan Parsons Project.

*Nicole's name is in honor of Nicola Tesla, for her abilities.

*Fitzgerald is for Ella Fitzgerald, a jazz singer.

*Welcome to the machine is a Pink Floyd song.

*Computer eyes an Ayreon song and so it's Computer reign.

*London boy is a song by Jean-Michel Jarre and so Computer weekend.

Myth and legend ride with you.