The empty expanse appeared just as the ultraviolet rays nearly turned his body to ash. Dio heard his double give a condescending slow-clap.

"So convincingly heroic," his double said. "Here are the arrows, just as I promised. Actually, more than I promised. I was in a generous mood, so I saved you the trouble of going back to Cairo and brought your own arrow here, as well. Now you have three arrows to use." He waved his hand and the three arrows clattered to the glassy ground. Dio stared at them suspiciously, causing his double to sigh. "Just use them."

Dio reached out and the arrows turned as if magnetized. They skittered over the ground and the first pierced his skin, followed by the second and the third. A jolt of energy tore up his arm and he grit his teeth as the arrowheads shot further up until they were stacked within his elbow. The sensation was somewhere between being electrocuted and being dunked into ice water. He hissed as the arrowheads pressed inexorably higher, slicing upwards toward his shoulder. His vision grew hazy but he saw The World appear beside him and it was leaning back just as he was, its eyes glassy and staring off into the emptiness around them-

Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. The arrows fell out of his arm and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in a living room that he did not recognize. It was cozy and would have been well lit if it were daytime; the tall windows in front of him opened to a grassy lawn turned silver under the moonlight. In the corner was a little wooden structure on the floor made of alphabet blocks carefully balanced together. Atop one block, a tin soldier stood. The couch beside the toys was plush and comfortable looking. A pink blanket, possibly hand-knit, was folded carefully over the back of it. Dio turned to look behind him; there was a set of stairs through an adjacent door and a hallway through another.

The details of the room weren't high on his list of priorities. He called forth The World and peered at it. His Stand looked the same as ever: a golden hue, a stony face, a powerful physique. However, its arms were crossed across its chest as if it were hiding something.

Dio pursed his lips and spread his arms wide; The World mirrored his movements and let go of whatever it was concealing. Dio narrowed his eyes as what looked like a small pile of trash fell to the floor. He crouched down to investigate it and The World watched blankly.

The first item was a day-by-day calendar, possibly even the same one Enyaba had snatched for him all the way back in Cairo. He frowned and tossed it aside. The second item was a worn-looking travel atlas. The third was a sheet of stickers akin to what a preschool instructor would give to a well-behaved child, all smiley faces and great job!s and rainbows.

He fell to his knees. "What," he growled, "the fuck."

The floor creaked. A softly flickering yellow light appeared in the hallway. He heard a child's voice, though it was too quiet for him to know what they were saying. When a woman's voice answered, he froze.

"It's okay, George. Today was a rough day for all of us. A nightmare is almost to be expected and certainly nothing to be ashamed of. If you think it will help, you can take the toy soldiers upstairs with you. They're very brave, aren't they? I think they will help you keep nightmares away. We can get them together-" she fell silent, her breath trapped in her throat, her hand clutching at George's shoulder and pulling him back. Dio stood and turned to face her.

"No," Erina said quietly.

Dio kept his face blank. He lifted his hands, palms facing outward, in an attempt to show he meant no harm.

"No," she said again, and the oil lamp she was holding trembled.

Dio had always puzzled over where to put Erina in his mental hierarchy. She was a human woman, sure, but obviously something about her had spurred Jonathan towards greater things. The same thing had happened with Holly; her being in danger was what had brought about the Joestars hunting him down. They were people with the ability to defy his attempted stranglehold on fate. He wasn't afraid of Erina per se, but he was wary of how she might impact his plans.

George was perhaps around nine or ten years old and Erina was clutching at him tightly, but he peered up at Dio with wide eyes. There was fear there, and perhaps curiosity, but there was also the characteristic Joestar determination, even the close echoes of Jonathan's features in his face- he was his child, after all. Dio supposed that the kid would not hesitate to attack him if he made even one wrong move towards Erina.

Erina probably supposed that as well, and she knew who would win the scuffle. "George." Her voice was like steel, but the lamplight sputtered slightly as her hands shook. "I have a surprise visitor. Why don't you go back to the kitchen and let us speak in private?"

George looked up at her questioningly. Erina squeezed his shoulder and gently pushed him behind her. He begrudgingly retreated down the hallway, but he gave Dio a severe look before ducking through the kitchen doorway.

"How…" Erina was pale and Dio wondered if she was liable to faint. "How could… What do you..." She took a deep breath and attempted to collect herself. "You're here, and not him. What more could you possibly take from me?"

"It's been ten years," Dio stated.

"To the day." She leaned against the wall and clutched at the oil lamp with both hands. "This is an old house," she murmured. "All dry wood. Would it be fast enough? Perhaps not. George would have time to get out, at least."

"I don't want to hurt you," Dio said.

Erina gave him a look of exhausted sorrow. "Are you offering me another painless death?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

"Look." He ran a hand over his neck, hoping she would take note of the lack of scarring. "It's a long story, but a lot of things have changed. I want Jojo to live. I'm going to bring him back."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Don't promise me the impossible," she said shakily. "I've already grieved. What's done is done. I don't know if you're feeling guilty for it now or if you want something else but you can't just erase your sins and pretend they never happened-"

"You know me well enough, Erina." He approached her carefully, cautiously; she did not shy away from him. "I don't like to be restrained by what's impossible. Will you trust me?"

She looked up and narrowed her eyes. The lamp dipped dangerously close to the wall. A tear rolled down her cheek, but her gaze was cold and hard. "What choice do I have? If he-if you didn't die from the fire on the ship, what could I possibly do to stop you?"

He wrapped a hand around the lamp to steady it. He was careful not to brush against Erina's fingers. "Tell me not to try, and I won't. I promise you that much." He was sincere, but he could see in her expression what her answer would be.

"How could I?" Her voice shook. "Not a day goes by that I don't wish that he was here with me. Of course I want him back. But I don't want to make a deal with the devil to make it so."

Dio gently pulled at the lamp; it slipped from Erina's grasp. He backed away and set it down safely on a table. "There's no deal to be made. I'm asking nothing of you." He glanced at the items The World had dropped and he tilted his head. "Well, I may ask you for your opinion." Erina wiped her face with her sleeve and gave him a confused look. Dio picked up the calendar, the atlas, and the stickers. "Are any of these familiar to you?" he asked. "Maybe that's why I ended up here."

She blinked. "What?"

Dio walked over to her and held up the items. "Here, take a look. Have you traveled lately? Perhaps check the map."

"Map?" She sniffed and frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

Dio peered down at the items. He held up the calendar. "You don't see this?"

She took a tentative step back. "I see your hand. You aren't making sense."

He frowned. "Hold on." He took a piece of the atlas between his thumb and index finger, then held the page in place with his other hand. He made a tiny tear in the paper; a cut opened up on the back of his palm. He laughed and Erina stared at him, utterly bewildered.

The items weren't junk, they were the three new aspects of his Stand. He looked at the day by day calendar and closely checked the dates. The page was flipped to read February 7, 1899, but it had been circled in ink. He tilted the calendar and looked into the spiral binding; tucked inside the plastic was a miniature pen. He frowned and clicked it, then peered at the next page. The date read February 8, 1899. He flipped through more pages, entering the next century, and while the calendar didn't seem to change in volume the pages continued for as long as he bothered to flip them. He grasped a chunk of them and flipped to reveal August 23, 1915. He frowned and circled the date with the pen.

The world shifted around him and yet still remained the same; he was in Erina's living room, but the children's toys were gone and a new set of embroidered throw pillows adorned the couch.

He heard a tearing sound. The page for February 7, 1899, fell out of the calendar and fluttered to the ground, where it faded away into nothingness.

He flipped through the calendar once more, this time going through the pages until he reached the very first one. It read February 7, 1889.

So he could use the calendar to travel to any day and arrive there at about midnight, but he could only visit that day once, and it didn't seem to go any earlier than the day the boat sank. He still needed to figure out the map and the stickers, but he also realized that he must have just disappeared from Erina's perspective and reappeared years later.

There was a light at the end of the hallway. He approached the kitchen silently and peered inside. Erina was sitting at a table with a few unfolded letters spread out over the wood. She was focused on her writing, dipping a metal-nibbed pen into an inkwell and peering down at the paper as she inscribed small, neat lines.

Dio knocked on the doorframe. Erina jumped and inhaled sharply, her pen skittering a jagged line across the page. "You're back," she gasped. "Did you-?"

"Not yet," he replied. "From my perspective, I was just talking to you in 1899."

"You're traveling through time," Erina said, "like in H. G. Wells. Is that what you meant? You're going to go back-"

He nodded. "I'm still figuring it out. I'll only have one chance to do it right, so I need a plan with no possibility of failure."

Her chair scuffed against the floor as she stood. "Take me with you. I want to help."

Dio frowned, and she strode up to him and grasped his shoulders. "My son is at war. Every day I worry for him, but there is nothing I can do but send him my love. And while you may have just been here, to me… I've had years of waiting and thinking. And here you are again, offering me the chance to do something that could help bring my family together. I'm not very special," she said, and she let go of him with a sigh. "I mean, I haven't learned the Ripple. But I want to help."

"It's not that I don't think you could help," Dio said carefully. "I just don't know how I would bring you with me."

Erina turned away from him and crossed her arms, hugging herself. "Is it… does it have something to do with the mask?"

"No." He opened the atlas and looked it over. He found Great Britain and found that there was a minuscule circle drawn on the map. "This house isn't far from Oxford, is it?"

"It isn't a long trip," she answered. "Why?"

He pulled the pen from the calendar and pored over the map, flipping through the pages until he found Japan. So much for no more bumbling around in Morioh, but if he went there in 1999, there would be three Joestars there to work with.

The calendar could take him through time; the map would presumably take him through space. The stickers, however, were still a mystery. He peeled a yellow smiley face off of the waxy paper.

"I have an idea," he said. "Give me your hand."

Erina frowned but she held it out. Dio pressed the sticker to the back of her hand, drew a tiny circle around Morioh on the map, then shuffled through pages of calendar days until he found the summer of 1999. He settled on the date that he hoped was the same as he found the arrow in the killer's house.

He pressed the pen against the calendar. "Cross your fingers," he told Erina.

She squinted at him. "Why?"

"You're a Joestar now, aren't you?" he answered. "That means you have excellent luck."

She tutted. "Is that what it is?"

He circled the date on the page and the world shifted.