Sheila E. stared in disbelief at the screen. The otherwise dark library was dimly lit by the blue glow of a computer monitor. On said monitor was a display of her partner, Fugo. He was pounding the screen with his fists, screaming silently for her. It took a moment to register. However, she quickly got her bearings.

"Fugo!?" She ran up to the desk, looking right at him.

He nodded.

"Fugo, I can't hear you! Can you hear me?"

After a moment's contemplation, the man shook his head. It would appear that he merely assumed what she was asking. Either way, it was clear. They couldn't communicate very well. She groaned, biting her lip.

"Dammit! This is why we should know sign language! Stuff like this wouldn't happen!" She mumbled.

Fugo just lifted a hand to his ear to signify his confusion. This caused Sheila E. to grow even more irritated. Despite that, he seemed to attempt communication once again. The man mouthed something elaborate, but Sheila didn't understand.

"What!?" She asked with cartoonish lip movement, hoping he'd be able to read them.

Fugo rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed with the current situation. He lifted a finger as if to say "pay attention, Sheila." The woman nodded, following so far. Then, Fugo took both hands and covered his eyes with them.

Sheila E. mirrored his motion for a moment, then looked to him expectantly. He nodded, covering them again.

"So I need to cover my eyes? For how long? Cover them from what?"

Fugo was quite the practical man. He knew what needed to be done and would always be the first to do it. When communications seemed to reach a stand-still, he sighed in defeat. He reached into his pocket, expertly flinging his switchblade open and inspecting its sharpness. Sheila E. watched in fascination as Fugo carved into his arm. Without a moment's hesitation the man cut a message into his own flesh. It took about thirty seconds since he was careful not to cut anything important. Once he was done, he turned his arm to face the woman.

Sheila leaned closer, squinting her eyes to read the bloodied message. "Stand camera. No look."

He nodded, covering his eyes once more to drive the point home.

That's when it all sank in. Sheila E. understood. She wasn't as smart or quick as Fugo, but any dunce could put the pieces together with so much evidence. The enemy had some sort of camera. Apparently, its flash turned you into a digital file. That must be how the enemy managed to kidnap so many dangerous Stand Users. No one could fight back from inside a database. It was likely stored on the cloud somewhere. That website was a file-hosting domain. There needed to be a physical computer powering the server somewhere on the planet though. Were all of Sheila's allies being stored on that computer's hard drive? She didn't understand how computers worked very well, as she'd never owned one. Despite that, Passione had some technical geniuses. They'd be able to figure this out. All she needed to do was relay the information.

However, it wouldn't be that easy. Staring into the screen, Sheila E.'s sharp eyes noticed something. It was difficult to see with all the moving graphics on screen, but she could notice something off. That's when her eyes widened. It was a reflection! Fugo pointed toward her, then gestures to cover her eyes.

Sheila E did just that. She closed her eyes tight, sending a swift kick directly behind her. Unfortunately, her attack didn't connect with anything. The woman dove to the floor and rolled under the computer station. Eyes sealed shut, she quickly stumbled to her feet once more. She cursed herself for not being observant of the library when she had the chance. Sheila barely had an inkling of her current position. All she knew was a general location of the enemy. He was somewhere behind her. She ran forward, slamming face-first into a bookshelf. Her forehead clanked against the fine oak shelf, causing a horrible THUD. She reeled back, falling onto her ass.

The blinded gangster rubbed her forehead in pain. What a dangerous opponent. Forcing your enemy to fight without their vision was a tremendous handicap. Even though she had the good fortune of knowing her enemy's ability, fighting it was proving to be very difficult. If she focused on her other senses, they seemed to be a little heightened due to her blindness. Sheila listened carefully for any indication of where her enemy was.

After a few silent seconds, she heard something coming from behind her. Voodoo Child manifested, kicking directly backwards. Its foot made contact with a chair, sending it flying into the computer station. The digital center was almost completely destroyed by the high-velocity chair. Several monitors were shattered, and multiple computers fell over. After the racket, Sheila listened for any groans of pain.

Nothing.

Gritting her teeth, the woman rolled to her feet once more. She turned around, backing up until she made contact with the bookshelf from before. She found it, making a mental note of her approximate location.

"So, where the hell are you, huh!? I'm fighting with both hands tied behind my back right now! What kind of a man are you? Hmmmm?" The feral woman screamed out, slouching down and taking an animalistic combat stance.

There was still nothing. Her ears couldn't pick up any movement. She cursed the stupid library for putting thick carpet down the year before. Ironically, too many people were complaining about loud footsteps. After a moment, she realized something. The man had to have a scent. The library was filled with a multitude of distracting, interesting smells. If she could get close enough to identify the man's, though, she could isolate it. She just needed a good sniff. That's all.

"Not in the mood to talk, ey?" She called out once more. "I gotta warn you, I'm fuckin' crazy. It'd be better for everyone if you just gave my boy-toy back."

Once again, her threats fell on deaf ears.

"Well great. Guess we're doing this the hard way, then."

Darkness. That was the only thing currently occupying Shirlie's world. She was completely and totally enveloped in black. Her mind was silent. Her senses were muted. It was almost like she didn't even exist. It was a familiar feeling. Total loneliness… She was still aware. There was just nothing around her to perceive. It was like she was drifting in an empty corner of space. She tried to remember what brought her to such a state. What was the last thing she could recall?

Shizuka.

Shirlie's eyes shot open. They were utterly bloodshot. Her heartbeat pounded all throughout her head. It was all she could hear. The sound droned out her thoughts. All she could hear was anxiety. Why did Shizuka bring her such anxiety? No, it wasn't Shizuka. The child was just the messenger. Something else was causing this distress. What had the girl warned Shirlie about? It was important. In fact, it was more important than anything else in the world.

Wake up.

That was it. Shirlie needed to wake up. She was asleep. The teen had been in high school. Only it wasn't really high school. It was a ruse. The entire reality was a concoction of someone's demented mind. Not just someone. Shirlie knew him all too well.

Drifting through the void of space, she could slowly feel a lucidity that had been absent before. Her conscious mind was winning control. All of this was familiar. She had experience with it. If her fears were true, that would mean death for everyone involved. She prayed that it was just a nightmare. Just a traumatic flashback to days long past. The rational side of her knew that was just wishful thinking.

That's when a voice could be heard in the distance. It didn't belong to Shizuka. No, it was that of someone Shirlie had forgotten until that very moment. It was her twin's voice. It was Pepsi.

"You have to get up." They warned.

Shirlie knew it to be true. Still, getting up was much easier said than done. She was afraid. Terrified, even. It had always been like this. Why was it happening again? What did she do to deserve it? Where were her friends? She closed her eyes once more. It was easier than fighting. She surrendered.

Sheila E. had a good nose. Better than most. Still, she was only human. She couldn't pick out the man's smell in such a large place filled with interesting scents. The young woman had one leg-up on her opponent though. Something that would discourage anyone from engaging in a fight. If only he knew, he'd be running for his life. Yes, the truth of the matter was simple. Shiela E. was fucking crazy. She would do anything to assure victory. Whether it be chewing off her own leg, killing an innocent puppy, or pissing on the pope, Sheila wouldn't hesitate to complete her goal. When she set her mind to something, she became an unstoppable force. Nobody could stand in her way. She had never died before. With that in mind, her twisted sense of logic would dictate that she was simply immortal.

Her enemy had gone and pissed her off by kidnapping Fugo. She was furious about Polnareff, but this was different. Fugo was hers. Nobody had any right to poach him without her say. She snarled, baring her teeth.

"Fine then! If you're not gonna show yourself, here's the deal! You get one hit! ONE! You'd better make it count, shithead!"

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she waited for him to strike. She was willing to take a direct attack. That meant she'd be able to pinpoint his location. Silence filled the library as she awaited her enemy's next move. That's when she finally heard something.

Creaking.

She could hear the distinct sound of wood creaking from directly behind her. It took a moment to realize what was happening. When she finally put the pieces together, it was too late.

"Oh son of a bitch."

The bookshelf she had her back to began to fall. It was enormous, made from fine oak and lined with dozens of hard-covered books. Sheila E. was quite a small woman. It didn't take a genius to guess what would happen next. The shelf came falling down, taking Sheila with it. Both of them slammed into the floor. After Shelia's initial pain from landing face first on the floor, she was met with something far greater. At first, she merely grunted as a few books landed on her. Then, a moment later, she let out a cry of pain as the bookshelf landed on her small body. One of the shelves connected with the back of her head, causing her ears to hiss with white noise.

Sheila E. was completely dazed. Ears ringing, vision blurry, body weak, she couldn't even determine where the enemy was. During the loud fall he could have gone anywhere. That's when she realized something. Blurry vision? Christ, her eyes were open! She closed them quickly, trying to get a grip. He had her right where he wanted her. Trapped and dazed. The smartest thing to do in that moment was play dead. If he thought she was unconscious, he might come closer.

The gangster didn't move a muscle. She ignored the throbbing pain coming from her head. She'd return the favor in spades when she got her hands on this wretched bastard. All she had to do was lie there. She tried to focus all of her attention onto her sense of hearing. Nothing else mattered. Her eyes were closed, her nose was shoved into the carpet, her touch was preoccupied by pain. She just needed to focus on sound.

After about thirty seconds, she could swear she heard footsteps on the carpet. It was difficult to decipher anything over the sound of her ears ringing. Still, she was confident that the enemy was moving. The footsteps were growing closer. Her body grew heavier, and she felt like she was close to passing out. She couldn't let that happen. If she did, it would all be over. Would Passione get another chance to capture this man? Would he continue his crusade against Stand Users?

She felt the bookshelf being lifted off of her body. Then, a firm hand grabbed her by her hair. Sheila's head was lifted up by the rough hand. She could tell that it belonged to a Stand. What was his plan? Was he going to open her eyes by force? She just needed him to get a little closer…

Two fingers roughly pried at her eyelids. She was out of time. The woman reached into her bra and grabbed a tiny vial. She was incredibly lucky that it didn't break when she was crushed by the shelf. Fate seemed to favor her. She threw the vial at the man with all her might, hearing it shatter upon contact. Gasoline burst from the container and got all over the man's chest.

"Now I'll lever lose you, you son of a bitch!" She hissed, clamoring her way out of the pile of books.

In a panic, the man dropped the bookshelf onto Sheila once more. She let out a grunt as it crushed her against the carpet. She could hear him running away.

"Not a goddamn chance, fuckface." She growled.

Voodoo Child threw the bookshelf off of her with so much force that it slammed into the ceiling. She relied on her sense of smell, following the stench of gasoline through the library. It wasn't a perfect solution. She tripped over quite a few things. Still, she wasn't going to lose the trail.

The man bounded up the nearest staircase. He hadn't been careful enough. That bitch managed to douse him in gasoline. He'd be fine. Dominic Wade had never lost a fight in his life. On the rare occasion that someone managed to figure out the secret of his Digital Love, they were still hopelessly outmatched. How were you supposed to fight someone with your eyes closed? Sheila E. had gotten lucky, plain and simple. He was still going to win.

Dominic hid behind a bookshelf. It was time to assess the damage. His shirt was covered in gas, but it was only his shirt. He could handle this… He could win. He tore his shirt off, looking around for anything he could use to his advantage. That's when he noticed a string hanging across the children's reading area. It was a cute little stage meant for live reading sessions. The words "Listen, Think, Learn" were strung from one wall to another. Dominic ran over and hung his gas-stained shirt on the string. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. He'd laid the perfect trap.

Sheila E. stormed up the staircase with little grace. After slamming into a few things, she got the general sense of her surroundings. The feral woman stumbled over to the reading area, nose twitching as she looked for Dominic. Little did she know, he was waiting opposite to the string with his Stand ready to attack.

She approached the shirt cautiously. Perfect. She'd fallen for the trap. Dominic silently approached from behind. The moment he swung his Stand's fist to finish the job, though, Sheila E. ducked.

"W-What!?" His eyes widened.

"I knew you'd try to ditch your shirt, dipshit." She fell onto all fours, easily avoiding his attack. "I focused on the weaker scent. Just because I'm looking one way doesn't mean I'm focusing my attention there."

Voodoo Child appeared, sending a powerful kick directly back. It connected with Dominic's chest, sending him flying backwards into a nearby bookshelf. The shirtless man broke the shelf on contact, causing everything to crumble down. He struggled to regain his footing. The moment he was upright, he saw Sheila E. heading right for him.

"What kind of psycho keeps gasoline with them?" He demanded.

"The kind who relies on her nose."

She was getting closer. He raised his hands defensively. "W-Wait! Wait! If you hurt me-"

"Erierierierierierierierierierierierieri!" Sheila E. cried out, completely ignoring his pitiful whines for mercy.

Voodoo Child punched him dozens of times right in the stomach. His body rippled and thrashed against the beating. When she stopped, numerous pairs of lips emerged from his clothing. They began to whisper things from his subconscious. The most prominent of which were names.

"Allison, Luke, Marley, Rin, Van, Marcus," The lips spouted quickly.

Sheila E. raised her brow. What were the names for?

"Casanova, Riley, Prince, Blake, Jason, Jotaro, Ludwig,"

Recognition struck the woman. The lips were confessing the names of everyone he'd stolen with his Stand. It was already over. Very few people could handle the physical strain of Voodoo Child's ability. Its primary purpose is to extract information from inanimate objects that picked up tainted thoughts or words from particularly problematic individuals. While it technically can extract information from living things, the experience is so traumatizing that it usually ends with death.

The lips continued to list off dozens of names at a rate nearly too fast to understand. After a while, they came to a stop. She thought it was done. Her eyes were still closed, but she could only assume the man was dead. That is, until she heard one final whisper.

"Sheila E."

She gasped. He was still alive? How was that possible? Without a moment's hesitation, she was smacked across the face by Digital Love. The woman stumbled back, cupping her face in pain.

Well, things were getting bad. Dominic seemed to be more of a hardass than Sheila E. anticipated.

"So, you've got a nose on you. A good one. That doesn't matter." Dominic delivered a swift kick to Sheila's stomach, sending her even further back. "I'll wash mine off!"

She heard his footsteps growing further away. Then, the sound of a lever. It wasn't long before the ear-piercing ring of a fire alarm blared throughout the silent library. Sheila E. tensed up as ice cold water rained down onto her from sprinklers above. The ringing didn't stop. Her senses were being overloaded. She couldn't see, her hearing was blocked by the insane whine of the alarm, and her touch was distracted by the water. She couldn't focus on her nose. She had no idea where Dominic went. Not only that, but she wouldn't be able to hear him approaching either. She was like a helpless child standing in the middle of no-man's-land. It was only a matter of time before he killed her.

Sheila stumbled blindly through the library. The fire department would come soon. None of them were Stand Users. Would Dominic kill them like Polnareff's guard? The clock was ticking. Where the fuck was he? She needed to end it. In her panic, Sheila was hardly paying attention to her current location. Because of that, she made a grave mistake.

The upper floor of the library was smaller, hugging all four walls with walkways overlooking the main area below. Of course, safety regulations dictated a four-foot railing to border the edges all the way around. However, if one wasn't paying attention, they might still find themselves falling off.

The gangster hit the railing with such force and speed that she flipped completely over it, falling through the air with great confusion. She cried out, slamming onto the ground with an immense thud. She was flat on her back, aching pain coursing through her entire body. Her eyes opened, and she looked around. Red lights flashed on and off as the fire alarm continued to blare. Water fell into her eyes, blurring her vision and causing them to instinctively close once more. The wind had been expelled from her lungs upon impact with the floor. She heaved to no avail in a pitiful attempt to breathe once more. She was lucky to be alive. If she'd landed on her head, that would have been it. Still, she was finding it quite difficult to breathe. Her nose wasn't taking in any scents. She felt the growing urge to succumb to her pain and pass out. That couldn't happen. She needed to get up.

Sheila E. let out a loud groan as she lifted herself to her feet. The woman swayed left and right, finally stumbling a few steps over to lean against a wall. She rested her hands on the wall and caught her breath. She definitely had a few broken ribs. Gio would be able to help with that. All she needed to do was defeat Dominic.

But where was he?

She fumbled around blindly for quite some time. The gnashed her teeth together in pure anger. Was he trying to torture her? Did she just have to wait for him to strike? For a moment, her mind entertained the idea that he simply bailed. That thought quickly seemed ridiculous though. He couldn't do that. She'd seen his face. She knew too much. Right...?

"Oh God damn it." She muttered.

Sheila E. hadn't seen his face. She'd had her eyes closed the entire time.

Dominic walked casually down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. The sound of a fire engine could be heard in the distance. It wouldn't be long before Sheila E. was completely distracted by law enforcement. At least he got Pannacotta Fugo. He much preferred to swipe Stand Users from their beds, but obtaining Fugo was painless enough. He checked his phone curiously. His lips curled into a sinister grin. The transfer was complete. Fugo was in Adrian's hands.

Sheila E. would succumb to "Feel Good Incorporated" eventually. Dominic's Digital Love was unstoppable. It served its purpose completely and totally. FGC's goal would be realized. Stand Users attract other Stand Users. All Dominic had to do was travel the world and wait to find one. Once he did, it was as simple as texting them to Adrian. From there, the Hotel California would keep them imprisoned permanently.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, Dominic felt like he heard something strange. There were many sounds coming from the busy city. However, one particular noise was rather odd. He couldn't quite place it. He could hear an odd suction. After another moment's thought, he stopped walking. He knew that sound. It was the sound of wet socks inside damp shoes. Every step caused a new suction noise as the foot was pulled from the ground. Someone with wet feet seemed to be following him.

"Shit." Is all he had time to say.

Immediately after, he was tackled to the ground by Sheila E. She balled a fist in his hair, lifting his head slightly before slamming it ruthlessly against the pavement. She dug her knee into the small of his back, applying pressure and threatening to break his spine if he struggled. She did all of this with her eyes closed. Voodoo Child appeared, taking his face into its hand.

"Start talking, fuckface. Or I'll put a new mouth over yours and listen to what it has to say."

"How the hell did you find me?" He questioned, voice muffled by Voodoo Child's hand.

She scoffed. "Do you understand how scents work? Water doesn't help mask your smell. In fact, dead skin particles wash off of your body with every drop. Then, they fall to the ground and leave a perfect trail. You made finding you easier than it would have been."

"D-Digital L-"

She slammed his head against the pavement once more. He shattered a few teeth, blood oozing from his cut lips.

"ONE MORE TIME," Sheila screamed. "Where did you take everyone? They're in a computer, but where?"

"F-Fuck you…" He groaned.

Without a moment's hesitation or an ounce of remorse, Voodoo Child pummeled Dominic's face with one firm strike.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeri!"

A pair of lips emerged on top of Dominic's mouth, sealing it shut and morphing the skin together. He screamed in terror, but it was drowned out by the whispers of his inner mind.

"The Hotel California. They were all sent to the Hotel California."

Sheila raised a brow. "And where the hell's that?"

"The Hotel California is nowhere. No one can enter without permission. It has no entrance. Only Stella can let people in."

"Stella?"

"Stella Artois. The Hotel California."

Once again, Sheila E. was confused. "The Hotel California is a person? I thought it was a place."

"Stella Artois is the hotel. No escape. No entrance. They're gone. Gone forever. The virus gone with it. The world is safer. The world is pure. The…. The…."

The lips began to twitch and spasm, oozing blood.

"The h- The… The h-h-h-h-h-hotel. The hotel. Stella. Adrian. The Hotel. Dead. Dead hotel. Dead building. Dead woman. All dead. All dead. Allllllllllllllllllll-"

The lips burst in a grotesque display of blood and gore. Dominic was dead.

"Son of a bitch." Sheila E. whispered.

She dropped his head, letting it fall against the pavement one last time. The woman opened her eyes, rubbing them a bit as they adjusted to the light. She was straddling a dead man in the middle of the sidewalk. People were staring. Parents blocked their children's eyes. A few people were crying. Sheila had just murdered a man in cold blood in front of everyone. She was so preoccupied with catching Dominic that she hadn't even considered that.

"Well shit."

More sirens could be heard in the distance. This time, they belonged to the Naples Police Department. Sheila E. raised her hands up, kneeling beside the body. Giorno would handle this. He'd handle everything. She did all she could.

Was Fugo still alive?

Shirlie was still drifting in a plane between reality and slumber. A part of her didn't want to wake up. She knew what came next. Her entire childhood was encompassed by it. All she wanted to do was move on. She never wanted to come back. How could one be so unlucky? To escape such a place, only to be brought back? It was inhumane. It was torture. She'd rather stay in the darkness and ignore it.

"Shirlie." Pepsi called out urgently. "Shirlie, you have to get up. We need to find the others before he does. We can't let him get them."

The others… Her friends. The first group of people in Shirlie's miserable life that she felt compassion for. It had only been a matter of days, but she'd already do anything for them. Shizuka… Josuke, Marina, Jotaro, Joseph, Ripley. Were they out there? If they were, he'd find them. Pepsi was right.

"I don't want to get up." She whispered.

After a long, drawn out silence, Pepsi responded. "I know."

Shirlie had said her piece. There wasn't really anything else to argue. Still, she felt rather bad about her friends. They were in immediate danger. She knew that Shizuka, Marina and Jotaro had already escaped from Feel Good Inc.'s spell. Wandering around such a place aimlessly was a death sentence.

"How many are still inside?" She asked softly.

"Just one. Everyone but Josuke has woken up."

"Because of you?"

"Yes."

"Why not wake Josuke up then?"

There was a thoughtful pause. "He doesn't seem to see me. It's not working. Maybe Pa-Pa-Power could help."

Shirlie let out a groan. "I told you I'm not getting up."

"Shirlie." Pepsi scolded their twin. "This is bigger than before. I've waited long enough already. We need to get going. Wake up, or I'm leaving you."

"...you wouldn't do that." Shirlie frowned.

"We both know I wouldn't. So, wake up, now. They need us. We're the only ones who can help them."

Shirlie closed her eyes, her jaw locking in place as she swallowed back tears. Her fists clenched, and she let out a sharp breath.

"Okay."

It was late. Powerful bells rang, piercing the night. Not just any bells, though. These were arguably the most famous bells in Earth's long history. Notre-Dame de Paris: Often referred to as Notre-Dame, began construction in 1160. It took an entire century to complete, and has been one of France's most famous locations since the publication of a book by the same name. Internationally, though, it's known as The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. After the book brought attention to the ancient cathedral, a twenty-year reconstruction effort began to restore its former beauty. Approximately twelve million people visit Notre-Dame every year.

During such late hours, the enormous church was almost completely empty. It's never vacant. Of course, the Catholic believe that the spirit of God inhabits the cathedral at all times. Aside from that, though, there were always a healthy amount of scholars, priests, and cleaning teams walking the ancient halls. However, a few foreign faces were going to be present on this particular night.

Giorno Giovanna walked quietly through the holy halls. He knew exactly what this was. Blondie was flexing her international influence by scheduling their meeting in such a coveted space. The altar of Notre-Dame was hardly open for local booking. He'd done similar things in the past. It was a very respectable strategy. In order to intimidate someone, you display your strength. In Giorno's case, he usually preferred to shut down a large area that would inconvenience as many people as possible. A few times he even held meetings in the middle of a baseball stadium on gameday. It was quite a power move indeed. The number of angry fans, international television contracts, and influential celebrities affected by such a decision showed what he was capable of.

Blondie, however, seemed to be going for a more subtle approach to the same tactic. He was greeted at the door and lead through the enormous building by a priest. However, his escort stopped short of the final hall. He needed to walk it alone.

There he was, strolling directly into Blondie's clutches. He was hardly worried, though.

The chances for some sort of ambush were slim. Giorno could detect the amount of life-forms in any given area. Aside from the numerous amounts of ghosts haunting such a historic site, there were very few humans in the vicinity. He could detect two in the room ahead. Two people were entirely acceptable. Blondie was quite old, after all. She likely had an escort.

Giorno pushed the large door open, looking inside the cathedral curiously. Moonlight spilled through the beautiful windows, lighting the altar on the far end. Blondie was sitting on the holy altar, legs crossed as she seductively eyed her enemy. Giorno could immediately feel her immense strength. Even from a distance, his survival instincts were kicking in. He knew she was dangerous.

"Giorno Giovanna, nella carne." She purred in his native tongue, almost as if she were mocking him.

He narrowed his eyes, looking around for the second living thing in the room. Whoever it was seemed to be hidden about halfway down the long aisle. They were to the right, most likely located behind a large curtain hanging from a window. He'd keep that in mind.

"Madam Dolly." He called across the cathedral, taking a few steps forward. "It's an honor. Speaking of flesh, I have to say that your skin looks amazing. You don't look a day over thirty."

She laughed, resting a hand on her chest. Her leg kicked out a bit, and she pushed herself forward to display her youthful form.

"That means a lot, L'oscurità." She smirked, referring to him by the title his opposition often used.

L'oscurità translates to "The Darkness." Giorno's unstoppable strength earned him such a grim name years ago. It was after he single-handedly slaughtered fifteen criminals in less than three minutes. They were foreigners trying to deal drugs in Italy. Simple-minded as they were, they assumed that Italy's complete lack of a drug trade meant there was an ample demand that needed supplying. Giorno informed them that they weren't welcome in his country. After a tense argument, the situation deteriorated to violence. None of them were Stand Users, and they didn't stand a chance. He tried to spare them. He gave every last one of them an opportunity. In the end, he had to kill them all. That was the night that solidified his ownership of Italy. The Darkness wouldn't tolerate any outsiders plaguing his country.

Needless to say, Giorno wasn't happy with such a night being brought up jokingly. His nose wrinkled a bit. However, he quickly calmed himself down. Blondie was trying to get under his skin.

"Do you mind if I drink?" She asked calmly.

"I think the only alcohol consumed here is the blood of the lamb." The boss quipped.

"We both know he's not watching."

The tall woman chuckled at her own comment, extending a hand. The air around her hand slowly transformed, manifesting itself as a wine glass. Giorno watched in fascination as such a miracle took place before his very eyes. Shortly after, the air within the glass turned to wine. She took a delicate sip, licking her lips and lowering the glass.

"I don't even need water to do it." She joked, mocking the story of Jesus Christ turning water into wine.

"Is this why you had our meeting in a church? To compare yourself to Jesus?" Giorno mumbled, clearly unamused.

"I just showed you my Stand Ability, Giorno Giovanna. It was an act of good faith. You see, I trust you. I know you're a good man. You're a civil, rational man." She spoke in a low tone.

Her body sank into the altar. She landed on her feet, the structure rippling around her form like water. She walked out from inside it, tossing her wine away and letting it return to oxygen. Her heels clicked loudly against the polished stairs as she walked closer to Giorno. A long carpet lead from the entrance to the stairs. They were both standing on it.

"I'm a dangerous man." He warned, not changing his posture at all. It was as if he didn't recognize her as a threat.

"Oh, don't I know it? You told me what your Stand Ability was all those years ago without so much as considering the consequences."

"It's because my Stand is unbeatable, and everyone deserves to know it." He began to walk closer. "It's my world, Madam. You're allowed to live in it. But only for as long as I choose."

She was truly amused. Blondie raised a hand to her lips, chuckling softly. "My word, you have a bit of a complex. Under different circumstances I'd love to psychoanalyze you."

His eyes stared into hers without an ounce of mercy.

"Shizuka Joestar shared a troubling story with me." He explained.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, the dramatics of a child. What did she say? That I put her in timeout?"

Giorno didn't stop walking. "She told me that you plan on weaponizing the Stand Virus against humanity. At first, I didn't believe her. But it all started to make sense. Your foundation keeps so many secrets. I bent over backwards to earn your trust. When ex-members of my gang tried to acquire the last stone mask, I had it destroyed for you. I didn't ask any questions. I didn't even do it myself. I showed respect for your foundation's sensitivities and had a middle-man handle it. Despite that, you've never extended that same branch of trust to me. I just found out that Jean Pierre Polnareff has ties with your organization? Why on Earth wouldn't that come up sooner?"

Blondie's eyes glowed a vibrant orange. "You have Polnareff? I was sure that he died back in the nineties."

"I can only assume you coached people to say nothing about your organization. That's so you can keep a firm grip on what information the outside world knows? That way nobody can look too deep into what you're really doing."

She scoffed. "If you only knew the level of scrutiny the United Nations holds me to."

"And what have they done about this? How many people know that the great Madam Dolly has returned to her golden years?"

"No one. They won't need to know, Giorno Giovanna. By the time word gets out, it will be too late. I just need one more thing, then I can enact my plan. A new world. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Is that why you kidnapped the Joestars? They were running from you, after all. What do they have? What are you taking from them?" He growled, approaching the halfway mark on the carpet.

Blondie paused. "My organization kidnapped the Joestars? That news to me."

He snarled. "Don't play coy, Dolly. Tell me where they are. I want Polnareff back."

She wasn't paying attention to him anymore. "Someone's captured the Joestars from Passione's watchful eye? Who could pull off something like that?"

Giorno stopped walking. The concern and confusion on Blondie's face was real. "You don't know?"

She snapped her fingers, pointing at him. "Quiet. I'm thinking."

Giorno's eyes drifted to his right. The life-form was about twenty feet away. If this was some plan for an ambush, he was seeing right through it. Still, he was curious about Blondie's confusion. If she didn't have his friends, who did?

"We're having a conversation, Dolly. Honestly, didn't your father ever teach you any manners?" His eyes narrowed. "Or was he too busy drinking?"

Blondie's eyes shot over to Giorno with a newfound disdain. "What did you say?"

"Easy, Debra, there's no need to growl. It should be pretty obvious that I had my men look into you."

The use of her birth name sent Blondie into a deep spiral of anger. Her lip quivered, and her nose wrinkled. She clenched her fists, struggling to stay calm.

"I tried looking into you, Boss, but it's all shrouded in mystery. Tell me, how did you end up heading such a dangerous organization at such a young age?"

"That's an entire story in itself." Giorno smirked. "I could ask you the same question, though. A woman in charge of an international foundation in the fifties? I respect you for that. It couldn't have been easy."

"Spare me with your stale, useless compliments. You're right. It wasn't easy. Nothing in life is supposed to be easy, Giorno Giovanna."

Her entire tone had shifted. He could feel the intent to kill in the air. She was going to make a move soon.

"Doing the impossible isn't easy, either. Yet somehow, I've found the strength to do it for my entire life. I was a woman in power during the fifties. I help prevent supernatural catastrophes you've never dreamed of on a regular basis. I intend to cure this world of its sickness, and that can't happen unless I stop YOU first. The impossible is my forte. If you believe that losing to me is impossible, I think you should be very, very afraid."

Everything happened so quickly. She materialized some sharp projectile and flung it across the room. Before he could properly react to that, the other life-form began to move from behind the curtain. Giorno's focus was redirected to that as Gold Experience Requiem stopped the projectiles from hitting its user.

Mortimer emerged from the curtain, springing into action and running directly for Giorno. The boss could sense unbelievable strength coming from Mortimer. Not only strength… He could sense potential. Unlimited potential. Somehow, the man held infinite possibilities within his soul. Gold Experience Requiem feared him. If Mortimer got the chance, he would be able to kill Giorno. So that was the plan. To pin him between a rock and a hard place? Giorno wasn't afraid. He was excited. For a moment, Blondie really did make him consider if coming alone was wise. However, if this was all she had planned, he wasn't worried in the least. Gold Experience Requiem extended a hand toward Mortimer. The moment the man got within range, he froze in place. Giorno set the man's motivation to zero, making him unable to move one more inch.

"You will never reach a favorable reality. None of them" He spoke coldly.

With GER's attention directed at Mortimer, Giorno turned his eyes to Blondie. He put his hands in his pockets, sighing.

"You're next." He lifted his chin toward her.

She just glared at him. After a pause that felt like an eternity, her lips shifted. She was smiling. Giorno's eyes widened at that. She wasn't afraid. That meant there was something else at play. What could it be? What else was going on? There wasn't another living thing in the room. It was just Blondie and Mortimer.

That's when a hand tore its way through the carpet and grabbed Giorno's ankle. The man winced, truly panicking. He redirected Gold Experience Requiem's attention, but it was too late. The hand on his flesh had an instant effect.

Giorno felt as his entire sense of self was clenched by the hand. His essence, his being, all of it was squeezed within the grip. Then, it began to tear. He let out a shrill scream of agony as his soul was torn at the seams. Gold Experience Requiem rippled and began to fade, struggling to keep Mortimer locked in place. All the while Giorno was being ripped from his own body. What was happening? How could this be? He was still looking directly at Blondie. She wasn't doing anything. She didn't have her Stand out. There were no other living beings in the cathedral!

More of the hand emerged from the floor. Soon, it was an entire arm. Whatever it was, it was managing to hold Giorno's very soul. He was being shredded. An immense energy built up in his chest. His eyes widened as he attempted to understand what was coming next. All of his energy was being siphoned to one part of his body. His soul was cannibalizing itself. He could feel it. Within the next few seconds, Giorno was going to explode.

He let out one more scream before his chest burst. A large variety of strange liquids shot out of his chest cavity. The strangest of them was green. He fell onto the carpet completely limp, unable to even tilt his head toward Blondie. There was a massive hole in his chest. He had lost so much blood. Despite that, his mind kept working. He wanted to understand what happened. He needed to understand. There wasn't another living thing in the room. He was sure of it. There was only Blondie, the man, and himself. The only other blips of life on his radar were the lingering spirits of Notre-Dame.

That's when it hit him. Realization struck his fading eyes. Whoever just attacked him wasn't alive. That's why Blondie picked Notre-Dame. She needed an environment filled with such rich history that Giorno wouldn't even question the spiritual energy surrounding him. He'd be completely tricked. From the moment she selected the meeting place, Blondie had won. She distracted him with her strongest fighter only to assassinate him with the spirit.

Blondie clapped her hands together. "Very good! Very, very good!"

Giorno could hear footsteps approaching. His vision was slowly blurring and washing together. Soon, he'd see his last sight. Blondie walked up to the limp man and looked down into his cold eyes. She felt nothing. Despite her ninety-one years of life, the woman struggled to find a single ounce of empathy for her enemy.

"I told you, Giorno Giovanna, I do the impossible."

The hand that grabbed him finally let go. Blondie noticed this, snapping her fingers. Several awful sounds came from the hand below. It sounded like a human body being broken and reshaped. The sound of bones snapping, flesh tearing, and a woman screaming filled the cathedral. Then, finally, Sabella fell to her knees.

Yes, Sabella, the chained woman from Red Eden's hidden basement prison had finally come out to play. The ridiculously tall woman bowed her head to Blondie, an endless stream of dark red hair sprawling across the leader's feet as Sabella kissed them.

"Your grace!" She cried out joyfully between kisses. "I did it! I did as you said! When he was distracted, I used my ability on him!"

Blondie cooed adoringly. "Yes, you did. You really did, sweetheart." She crouched down, petting Sabella's scarlet locks. "I didn't doubt you for a second."

"I did." Mortimer groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I don't like doing things in one try."

Giorno didn't have much time left. This couldn't be it. He refused for this to be the end. He glared into Blondie's eyes, unable to do anything else. The woman scoffed.

"It's the end of the line, Giovanna." She stood tall, lifting her foot. She lowered the tip of her heel, pushing it into his mouth. He gagged as it pushed down his throat. She stared down at him scornfully, taking great joy in taunting him so.

"If it's all the same to you, I think we should kill him now. This might be our only chance." Mortimer suggested.

Blondie pursed her lips. "You're absolutely right, Mortimer. I'd like to tease him more, but time is of the essence. Someone seems to have stolen what's mine."

"Ma'am, do you think it could be Stella?" He felt foolish for even entertaining the idea.

"Not directly, no. She's pushing daisies with Cynthia and Tsuru. However, it could be the echoes of her operation. We'll have to look into that immediately."

She looked down at Giorno curiously. His eyes had seemed to glaze over already. There wasn't an ounce of life left in them. Not only that, but his heart was currently reduced to paste scattered around the cathedral. He was certainly dead. Still, she'd seen enough movies to know how that worked out. The villain always left the hero for dead, only for him to make a miraculous recovery. Not this time.

She manifested Rapture and took a deep breath. With little regard for civility, she plunged Rapture's staff directly through Giorno's forehead. If she squinted, she could see the carpet through the hole her Stand left in the man's brain.

" Arrivederci, Giorno."

Satisfied with her work, she snapped her fingers. "Alright then, we have so much to do. Let's go. The new world awaits..."

The door slammed shut, leaving Giorno's cold, stiff body alone. Blood pooled on the carpet all around him. It mixed with the odd green substance caused by Sabella's Tragic Kingdom. His eyes stayed wide open, but lacked any kind of spark to indicate life. Clouds parted above the cathedral, allowing a blue glow to shine on his damaged face. The word Giorno meant "day" in his home's language. Despite that, the night had never looked more bleak.

The room was completely and totally silent. Without Giorno's protection, it seemed as if The Rapture was inevitable.

To be Continued...