And we have now reached the first part of our 2-part Whumptober finale. Get ready for some major Giorno whump. This is a long one.

I also wrote it over the last couple days, so please forgive any typos. I hope the story makes sense XD


Between the Styx and the Lethe

Part One

Day 30: Note to Self: Don't get Kidnapped

(manhandled, hair grabbing, 'please don't touch me')

A strange man on a quest for power kidnaps Giorno to find the secrets of Gold Experience. When experimentation doesn't work, he turns to more subtle methods, manipulating, coercing, until Giorno is questioning what is real and doubts that help is even coming.

Giorno felt incredibly disoriented when he woke. He dragged his eyes open, and a million stars swirled around above him, making him feel sick and dizzy. He brought a hand up to his face, hoping to make them stop. His hand was too heavy, and then he realized the reason was that it was attached to his other hand.

Giorno rolled onto his side, blinking away the dizziness and the swirling stars that he was pretty sure were just lights, and tried to breathe through the nausea that assaulted him.

The next time he opened his eyes, he felt a little steadier, was at least able to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a small bedroom. Sparsely furnished but clean. Giorno glanced down at his hands that were manacled together and carefully pushed himself into a sitting position as he tried to remember what had led up to him ending up here.

A meeting—he'd had a meeting. What had it been about again?

There was the sound of a lock turning and Giorno spun around, head spinning again, as it was opened and a man stepped in.

"Ah, you're awake. Good."

The pieces were finally coming together as Giorno took the man in. Tall, middle-aged, handsome enough. His dark hair was slicked back from his face to show hard grey eyes. He wore a plain, yet expensive tailored suit and carried himself with an air of authority.

All in all, he represented his position well.

It had surprised Giorno a little bit to get an invitation to a meeting from a senator.

"It's not really that uncommon for local government officials to want to make ties with us," Bucciarati had told him. "Polpo used to have several senators in his pocket."

"It's sort of a…symbiotic relationship, I suppose," Giorno mused, tapping his chin. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to go and have the meeting at least."

So he'd set it up and gone the next day to meet with Senator Vitali Padovesi.

In retrospect, he probably should have taken at least Fugo with him, but he'd been busy, so instead he'd had Mista and Narancia drop him off at the meeting point before they went to run a few errands.

He hadn't expected more than a simple meeting smashed between two other engagements that day. He'd never heard anything suspicious about this man, had no reason to suspect he was dangerous; by all accounts, he wasn't even a Stand user.

The problem was, unlike in nature where danger could be spelled out with bright colors and warning sounds, humans tended to be better at hiding their true colors until it was too late.

Giorno should not have accepted the cappuccino.

He could only assume that he had been dragged off after he was incapacitated.

Now, not knowing where he was, staring this new enemy in the face, he had to reevaluate everything he had been considering about Padovesi from their meeting. The man was obviously more dangerous than he had originally thought. But what did he want? Was Giorno nothing but a captive for ransom or was there more to his motives?

"I don't appreciate your way of handling business, Senator," Giorno said firmly. His tongue was still a bit heavy, and with whatever drug this was in his system, didn't allow him enough concentration to bring Gold out.

The man smiled, but it was oily, almost patronizing. "I do apologize for the inconvenience, Signore Giovanna, but I'm afraid the kind of discussions we will be having must be held in private."

He stepped further into the room and Giorno staggered to his feet, trying to keep his legs from wobbling, furious that he probably looked like some weak prey animal at the moment.

Padovesi's eyes scanned him as if seeing just that. "I'll admit, you don't look like much right now. But I'm inclined to believe the stories I've heard about you."

"And what would those be?"

The senator tucked his hands into his pockets. "I've heard stories of people in Passione having strange powers. I didn't really believe it until I heard about the bizarre occurrences in Rome prior to the previous Don's…shall we say execution? I must say, the rumors have me intrigued. It's odd indeed for a sixteen-year-old nobody to hold such a high position. Ambition only gets you so far. I should know."

"What exactly do you want?" Giorno demanded.

Padovesi took yet another step forward, crowding into Giorno who refused to back down, hating that the man was almost a head taller than him. "I want to know the secret of your power, Giorno Giovanna, so that I can attain it for myself."

Giorno glowered. "We could easily have had this discussion earlier, and I would have given you the same answer."

"And what is that answer?"

"No."

Padovesi sighed, shrugging. "That's exactly what I thought you would say. Which is why I decided to take precautions."

"What did you expect?" Giorno snorted. "You said it yourself, I'm the most powerful man in this city—this country, perhaps. You think I want to make a rival? It didn't turn out well for Diavolo."

Padovesi smirked then. "My, my, look at the little puppy bark. You are no man, Giorno Giovanna, you are only a boy who has been given enough power to make him overconfident. It was easy enough for me to overpower you earlier, wasn't it? So why don't you be a good dog and do as you're told before I have to resort to other methods. I am willing to be nice, but only if you cooperate."

"You should not act so confident. My whole team have powers outside your obvious comprehension," Giorno told him darkly. "They know who I went to meet. It won't be long before they track you down."

"Oh, they won't find us without an invitation. We're in my residence outside the city. We're far away from Napoli now."

Giorno felt a small bit of panic start to arise. How far were they? He glanced toward the small window in the room, but it was dark out and he could see no distinguishing features to the landscape.

"My answer still stands."

Padovesi sighed again. "Then so does my threat."

He suddenly had Giorno around the throat and shoved him back against the nearest wall, leaning down to get into his face. "I will get the answer out of you one way or another, but believe me, it will be a lot more pleasant for you if you were to cooperate."

Giorno snarled and brought his knee up into the man's groin.

Padovesi grunted, grip loosening enough for Giorno to slip away and dash toward the door.

He didn't get more than two feet out of it before he realized there were men standing on either side of it, as if waiting for him to do just this. Something hit his back and electrical shock surged through his body, forcing a scream from Giorno's lungs as he collapsed on the ground, trying to escape the pain crashing through him.

"Get him up."

The electrical pulse finally ceased and Giorno went limp before two pairs of rough hands grabbed him and hauled him upright, feet dragging until he could get them to work again.

"Take him to Bianchi," Padovesi said.

Giorno tried to fight back but the men were too strong for him without using Gold and he honestly wasn't sure he wanted to try that even if he could. He didn't really want to give Padovesi more of a reason to seek out his power or whatever the hell he was planning on doing.

Giorno was taken down to the basement portion of the mansion. This place was huge, he realized as they made multiple turns and finally came to a room that held a couple bookshelves and a large desk covered in papers and folders. The other side of the room was curtained off, leaving much to the imagination.

A man sat at the desk, working on a computer, but he looked around when the party came in.

"Ah, Senator, did you bring me my new subject?"

Giorno glowered at the man as he was forcefully put into a chair.

"Now, now, Bianchi, we're a little more civil than that," Padovesi said before turning to Giorno. "Doctor Bianchi is my live-in researcher. He has been tracking odd happenings all across Italy and has done some hands-on research into—what is it you call them again?"

"Stands," Bianchi said, and Giorno felt a slight twist in his stomach. While Padovesi might be a bit clueless as to what the true source of Giorno's power was, it seemed like this man might know more. Which could, in turn, make him very dangerous.

Giorno eyed him warily. He didn't look like much, more like a disheveled math teacher than anything, but, again, looks could be deceiving.

"Now, Giorno—I hope you don't mind if I call you that?" Padovesi said, leaving no room for Giorno to protest before he continued, "Perhaps you'd be more inclined to answer the doctor's questions?"

Giorno didn't say anything, simply sat there with his hands still manacled in front of him, trying to keep his muscles from twitching with the leftover electricity.

"A difficult one, then," Bianchi muttered. "It doesn't really matter. I'll just have to do more hands-on research."

Giorno's skin crawled at just the mention of it. He had no idea what this man had planned but he knew it wasn't going to be good.

"Well, there's no point in wasting time, if you're ready now," Padovesi said briskly.

"Well, how can I refuse when you bring me actual test subjects?" Bianchi asked with an almost gleeful laugh. He stood and headed over to the side of the room that was curtained off. "Bring him."

Giorno was taken out of the chair by the guards again and hauled to the other side of the room as the curtain was pulled back.

Giorno's stomach twisted again as he saw what had been hidden. The area looked to be some kind of surgery set up. A metal table sat in the middle, surrounded by tables of lab and medical equipment, most of which Giorno didn't even know the use for. Didn't want to.

Unfortunately, it looked like he was going to find out.

"Strip him and get him on the table," Bianchi commanded as he grabbed a lab coat to slip on. Giorno noticed vague stains on it, the color of blood when you tried to wash it out of white cloth.

He struggled when they unlocked his manacles, but the guards still kept a firm grip on him, hard enough to bruise.

"Get off me!" Giorno snapped. "This isn't going to get you what you want!"

"You had your chance to cooperate," Padovesi reminded him, reaching out himself to calmly unbutton Giorno's coat as if he were a valet, and not a captor. "I warned you I would not be so kind if you refused."

Giorno growled, trying to pull away, but it just resulted in the guards tearing his clothes. Desperate fury surged through Giorno as the cold air hit the skin of his back while the last of his coat was simply ripped off of him.

Padovesi's eyes of course went directly to the scars marring the pale skin of his back.

"What's this? Troubled home life? Or maybe you're just a troublemaker." Giorno seethed, refusing to rise to his bait. "An interesting birthmark, though…"

Fingers brushed the star on his shoulder and Giorno jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped.

Padovesi grabbed his chin instead, wrenching Giorno around to look at him. "I'll do whatever I want with you. You're mine now, after all."

Giorno gave him a look of death, but by then he had been stripped to his underwear and was feeling desperate and vulnerable. They wrestled him onto the table and strapped him down. Giorno fought against the restraints but Bianchi only tightened them further, flipping on a light overhead that blinded Giorno, creating a garish halo around the man leaning over him.

"Now, Giorno Giovanna, tell me the secrets of your powers."


Giorno did not tell him the secrets of his powers. It didn't matter how many tests the man ran, how many intrusive examinations he made, how much blood he took, and how much pain he caused, either with knives, needles, or the metal nodes he would place on Giorno's head and body to deliver electrical shock: Giorno had decidedly refused to give Padovesi anything he wanted.

He lost count of the days as he lay, shivering on the metal table in the makeshift surgery, covered only in a thin sheet that was stained in his blood. He only used Gold to heal himself when he had been abandoned there for the night. The healing process was slow due to the drugs he was constantly being plied with—obviously to keep him weak—but it was still enough for Bianchi and Padovesi to notice.

"You heal extremely quickly," Bianchi said, poking the half-healed scar in Giorno's abdomen where this insane bastard had taken it upon himself to see if a Stand existed inside of someone like some sort of seed.

Giorno gritted his teeth, fixing the man with an exhausted glower.

Padovesi huffed an impatient sigh and held a book up to Giorno. "Do you recognize this?"

Giorno's eyes traveled to the page where he was admittedly surprised to see a sketch of what looked to be the Stand arrow like Polpo had. The sketch was taped into a journal with multiple notes scratched beside it.

He refused to reply, but Padovesi pushed it closer to his face. "I know that the Capo Polpo had one of these. They're supposed to grant powers like you have."

"I was born with mine," was all Giorno said.

The man slammed a hand down on the table beside Giorno's head. "That might be true, but eye-witnesses have said they saw an arrow in Rome that day you took down Passione's former Don. You must know where it is."

Giorno looked away.

Padovesi grabbed his chin and wrenched his head back around. "Listen to me, you little prick. I can have Bianchi cut you apart a thousand times, and it's not going to make a difference, is it? Why don't you cooperate now and save yourself from the pain?"

"There is no arrow anymore," Giorno said firmly.

"So what happened to it?"

Giorno pressed his lips shut and refused to speak.

Padovesi snarled, releasing him as he stepped back, snapping at Bianchi again. "Do whatever you think is best. I want answers one way or another."

Giorno's heart quickened as Bianchi pulled out his knives again. Padovesi stood off to one side against the wall, arms folded over his chest, watching every second.

Then came more hours of extended, dehumanizing agony, with Giorno nothing more than a frog staked out to be dissected. It reminded him of biology class. He had refused to cut up the frog, instead turning it into a flower and leaving the classroom with a bewildered teacher. It wasn't that he was a stranger to violence and blood even before he joined Passione, and probably should be worried he was so unbothered by it, but he didn't like hurting animals—especially frogs.

He never would have thought he'd have so much in common with them. If he could turn into a flower at that moment, he thought that it would be pretty nice.

He slipped, foolishly. Unconsciousness tugged at him from the extended torment and blood loss. He was just so tired of the pain, and finally, he could feel the warm, golden glow bubbling up inside of him, until it released.

Gasps were heard, feet rushing toward him. The fresh surgical cuts in his body were fused with the gold and the effort made Giorno somewhat dizzy. He slipped off to Padovesi's face staring down at him in awe and possibly some terror. Giorno briefly found some satisfaction in that, wondering what exactly they were seeing, before he finally slipped fully into unconsciousness.


When he woke again, he was back in the room he had started in.

There was a brief relief at no longer being strapped to that table, but Giorno did not want to count himself as secure yet. Why he was here now he didn't know, but he was sure they hadn't gotten what they wanted from him yet.

He sat up slowly, body aching. He stared down at the healing, pink scars that were clearly visible since they hadn't bothered to clothe him again. He reached up to trace the garish surgical cut from his sternum to his navel but was glad to see that Gold had fused it back together easily enough. On top of that he was weak from hunger and dehydration. He hadn't been given anything for the duration of his time in the lab, and his throat was painfully dry, torn from screaming he couldn't help, and his stomach was sick from emptiness and the drugs.

He felt a little clearer now though, and thought perhaps they were finally wearing off. He wrapped himself in a blanket from the bed to fend off the chill and forced his legs over the side, pushing himself up and staggering over to the small window.

He leaned against the stone frame and looked out. It was actually light enough to see now, but he couldn't tell what time of day it was because all that was out there was fog and mountains.

Giorno shivered. They were indeed far from Napoli. How far, he didn't know, but they were definitely not near the city.

He slumped down with his back to the wall under the window, wondering what the others were doing. They would be looking for him by now, but where? Would they be able to find this place? Were they instead scouring the city to find him?

He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to seek out some warmth. He hated the thought of being the cause of anyone else's worry, knew everyone would blame themselves when it wasn't even their fault. Giorno sighed heavily, glancing out the window again. How hard would it be to escape from this place? he wondered. Of course, without knowing where he was he could wander aimlessly before he found help, and in that time Padovesi might track him down again.

He knew with a dreaded certainty that escape was futile, but that didn't mean he had to give in either.

The door was unlocked again and creaked open with Padovesi and another man coming in carrying a tray. Giorno's eyes instantly landed on it when he saw water and a bowl of soup. His stomach gurgled queasily as his dry mouth tried to water.

"I bet you're hungry," Padovesi said, forcibly cheery. Giorno wasn't about to have that.

He stayed sitting nonchalantly by the window, glaring up at the man. "Why the change of heart? I know you couldn't even see my Stand back there."

Padovesi shrugged. "I can see that you'll give nothing up under torture, and Bianchi had tried literally everything he could think of to find the source of your power and attempt to collect it. There was no precedent for that from other research I've done, but he wanted to try anyway. Honestly, I view it as a waste of time."

"Why do you want it so badly?" Giorno asked finally.

"Were you truly born with this power?"

Giorno nodded slowly.

"Then you don't understand what it's like to crave power," Padovesi said, jaw clenching. "To have to scrape for everything. I want to make senatore a vita and if I had a power like that, then…well…no one would be able to refuse me, would they?"

Giorno laughed, the sound bursting from his throat like broken glass. "You think I don't know what it's like to scrape for everything? I couldn't use my power voluntarily until only a couple years ago. Before that I was as good as nobody. Lower than. The difference between you and me is that I never sought power. I sought change. To my position, to the city. You don't know the first thing about being a leader, and trust me, I'm still learning myself, but I think I still have more knowledge than you just from hearing you talk."

"You wretched little upstart," Padovesi snarled.

"Being unable to please your father isn't the end of the world, you know. He probably doesn't deserve it anyway."

Padovesi stepped forward and yanked Giorno up by his matted hair, slamming his face against the cold window as he wrenched one of his arms up behind his back.

"You shut your damn mouth about my father. He was a bastard and I've already spit on his grave. He didn't make me who I am, I did, and I don't need a little blond brat telling me about my daddy issues."

Giorno almost smirked, elated that he had struck a nerve. "If he's dead, what's the point then? He won't be around for you to gloat to."

Padovesi slammed Giorno's face against the windowsill. Pain exploded through his skull as the scent of blood permeated his senses, the coppery taste dripping down the back of his throat.

Giorno was thrown to the ground where he curled for a second, one hand cupping his broken nose.

"You little shit, I'll gloat to you, that's what I'll do. I'll strip you of your power bit by bit and when you're on your knees, groveling at my feet, remember how smug you used to be and how it got you nowhere." He paused, seething, veins bursting in his forehead as his hands clenched at his sides. "I will destroy you, Giorno Giovanna. I will take you apart and strip you of everything you hold as your own. And when I'm done, you'll be nothing but a dog to beg at my feet. Your little empire will fall and it will fall to me. I promise that."

He left the room and Giorno sat up slowly, pressing his hand against his nose as blood gushed from it. He sniffed and choked on it, retching out a gob of blood.

He couldn't be bothered with that right now though because all he could pay attention to was the tray.

He scrambled up and grabbed the water with shaky hands, bringing it to his mouth. He gulped, trying to pace himself, knowing he could make himself sick.

It was gone too soon and he turned to the soup, picking up the bowl and drinking directly from it, the warmth filling his stomach. It hurt, cramping slightly after being empty for so long, but he knew he needed food and was grateful he had at least that much.

He was halfway through the bowl of soup when he started to feel funny.

It wasn't the same as the other drug. This felt…different. It made him feel slightly detached from reality, lights blurry, and sounds too loud. Simple reasoning felt a long distance away.

Giorno slowly set the bowl back down, terror washing over him. He had to get out of here while he still had some hold on his senses. Senses he could feel quickly slipping away from him.

He ran to the door and found that it opened easily this time. No one had bothered to lock it.

But as he left he simply ran directly into Padovesi who caught him by the arms, pushing him back into the room.

"Where are you going, little puppy?" he asked mockingly.

Giorno struggled, but everything was spinning, swirling around him, and he couldn't get his legs to work.

Padovesi heaved him up and Giorno felt himself falling and falling until he was put down on something soft.

The man loomed over him, pinning him as he leaned in closely and Giorno could do nothing to push him away, could only listen as the words filtered in.

"Now, Giorno, tell me everything about your Stand power."


Giorno floated back to some tentative form of consciousness.

He laid there for a long time, staring up at the ridges in the plaster ceiling, waiting for them to stop moving. He felt the detachment you got when you had a fever, there, but…not…at the same time. Mind cloudy. Thinking was hard. Too hard to remember. Giorno was sure Padovesi had been there, had asked him questions, but he didn't know what he had told him.

He slowly pushed himself upright finally, looking around the room again.

New items had appeared. There was an outfit laid at the end of the bed. A tapestry that had been hanging on the wall opposite the bed had been removed to reveal a small door. Curious, Giorno made his way in that direction and was grateful to find a small washroom which he made use of.

No shower or bath unfortunately, but he cleaned himself as well as he could in the sink. His hair was a mess and he hadn't been provided with a brush or any toiletries so there was nothing he could do but re-braid it.

He carefully dressed in the clothes—a dress shirt and trousers—before he looked toward the door.

He tried it and was slightly surprised to find it unlocked again. No one was out in the hall this time, which made him slightly uneasy. Why didn't Padovesi seem to think he needed guarding now? Was he simply confident that Giorno would never find his way out of here or were there other failsafes in place that he wasn't aware of?

If nothing else, he might at least be able to explore the mansion a little, figure out what was where. Maybe, if possible, he could find a phone to call someone.

The whole place seemed empty and Giorno started to get an eerie feeling from the atmosphere. It was almost like someone was there, lurking, but he could clearly see that no one was there.

At least…he didn't think there was.

A footstep sounded behind him and Giorno spun just in time to see the back half of someone crossing the corridor. A familiar tall figure, confident stride, fuchsia hair flowing behind him…

No. It couldn't be Diavolo. He was dead. Giorno was positive of that.

Giorno blinked, glancing around again, seeing a clock sitting on a table in a small alcove of the hallway, surrounded by several art pieces. It was almost three in the afternoon.

Another footstep sounded and Giorno saw a shadow cross the way again, this time closer.

DONG!

The clock startled Giorno as it counted out the hour. But…

Giorno staggered back in horror. He had just looked at the clock and there had been over five minutes until the hour, it wasn't possible that much time had already passed, unless…

Giorno glanced back down the corridor but there was nothing there. When he looked back at the clock, he blinked in confusion, seeing that it was set, once again, at five minutes until three.

Giorno shook himself, taking a wobbling step back. "It's not real," he told himself out loud. Firm. This had to be a side effect of the drugs Padovesi had put in his food. They must be making him hallucinate.

He felt woozy and decided he would go back to the room for now—if he could find it. He would wait for the drugs to wear off, refuse to eat any more food for now, and then resume his exploration.

He wandered, still with the feeling of a shadowy figure behind him. he could hear the footsteps intermittently and though he knew it had to be a hallucination, he found himself going faster, and faster, until he was sprinting down the hallways. When he finally found the room again, he rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sank down against it, panting for breath, head whirling.

He waited for the footsteps to pass. But they never did.

Eventually, Giorno opened the door again to peek outside and saw no one in either direction. The mansion felt empty again.

He took a shuddering breath and closed the door, biting his nails. Someone had left food for him while he was gone and though his stomach gurgled, needy, he angrily took the bowl and the glass of water and dumped the food in the bathroom, flushing it down the toilet. He then rinsed the cup out and used it to drink water from the sink. It might not be great water to drink, but it was better than dying of thirst because Padovesi was trying to drug him.

However, it wasn't long before he started to feel strange again after a couple glassfuls, and when he finally took the time to examine the glass, he realized there was a sticky, slightly sweet substance painted around the rim. Giorno dropped it in the sink and hurriedly shoved a finger down his throat, trying to vomit it back up, but though he gagged up the couple mouthfuls of water, he still felt light-headed. It must be fast-acting, whatever it was.

Sick, and woozy, Giorno staggered back to the bed and collapsed into it, one eye pinned to the door as he anticipated an intrusion at any moment.

He slipped off before he could remember if it happened or not.

It was an indeterminate amount of time later when the door was opened and two of the guards stepped inside.

"The Senator requests your presence at dinner," one said.

Giorno ignored them, still feeling horrific, but they simply stepped into the room and grabbed his arms, dragging him out of bed. They took him out of the room and down the stairs to an opulent dining hall, complete with long banquet table and expensive art pieces decorating the walls.

At the head of the table sat Padovesi, the sole occupant.

"Giorno, glad you could join me."

Giorno stood for a second, before he reached out to pull out a chair, starting to sit down before Padovesi clicked his tongue, holding up a hand.

"No. Dogs eat on the floor."

He grabbed Giorno's collar and yanked him forcibly onto his knees. A server stepped forward and placed a bowl down on the floor in front of him.

Giorno glowered up at Padovesi. "You think this makes you the bigger man?"

Padovesi backhanded him across the face, cutting his cheek with a heavy ring. "I'm kind enough to give you food, you should enjoy it. Until you start giving me what I want, you aren't even worth human privileges in this house."

Giorno dabbed blood from his cheek on his sleeve, biting back the fury that seethed through him. However, he also realized it would be pointless to fight back at the moment.

"I didn't drug it, you have no need of another dose yet," Padovesi told him. "So, I would take advantage of that while you can."

Defiance sprang through Giorno and he wanted to throw the bowl at the man's head instead.

Padovesi simply ignored him and turned back to his own plate, cutting into a steak that smelled so good Giorno's mouth watered enough to nearly drip. He quickly swallowed and turned to the bowl. It would be foolish to pass up and opportunity to eat. He knew the importance of keeping his strength up. Solid food might muffle the effects of the drugs too.

He shifted to sit more comfortably and picked the bowl up. It was some kind of stew and smelled okay, but then he hadn't been able to detect the drugs by anything other than a slight sweetness either and it would be impossible to tell in this.

He took a cautious sip from the bowl, refusing to use his fingers, though he was so hungry at this point that he could have finished the meal in thirty seconds, utensils or not.

It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to have to eat with his hands. He had just put that behind him.

He was halfway through the meal before a knife-like pain clenched in his stomach.

Giorno gagged, stomach cramping even more painfully and before he could help himself, everything came back up, vomit splattering on the floor.

Padovesi turned in his chair to smirk at him, watching in some sort of sick enjoyment.

Giorno choked up more burning bile, shaking as he glared up at the man. "You did that."

"I told you I didn't put drugs in it."

Another devastating cramp tore through Giorno's insides, worse than any that could be caused by simple hunger—he was far too acquainted with those. "You poisoned it, didn't you?"

Padovesi's face suddenly shifted, brows lowering in fury as he shoved the chair back, towering over Giorno. "I'm kind enough to give you food and you accuse me of poisoning it just because your pitiful stomach can't handle it?" he demanded, bending over and grabbing Giorno by the hair, shoving his face down into the mess on the floor, smearing it across his cheek. "You ungrateful little brat, clean that up now!"

The voice suddenly shifted, the hand was thicker, rougher. Giorno swore he heard the sound of a belt-buckle being undone. He swallowed hard. It wasn't real. He knew the drugs made him hallucinate…

He looked up.

His stepfather stood there, snarling down at him, so that angry spittle flew from between his lips. "Do what I say, you little shit, or I'll flay the skin off your back!"

Giorno shrank back, suddenly a child again, unable to defend himself.

A foot slammed into his stomach and Giorno toppled to the side with a short cry.

"Useless. You'll go hungry tomorrow."

Giorno was hauled up and dragged away from the mess on the floor. Everything was spinning. He felt stone floor under his feet as he was half carried away and finally thrown down onto the cold stone once he had been brought into his room.

The heavy footsteps left the room with the slam of a door. Giorno didn't get up, or try to get to the bed, simply curled there where he had landed, clutching his cramping stomach as sharp pains assaulted him. He was so confused. Everything was swirling together and he didn't honestly know what was real and what wasn't anymore.


A soft touch caressed his face. Warm and slightly damp as if someone was scrubbing his face with a washcloth. Giorno's brows furrowed slightly.

A quiet voice filtered in. "Shh…just rest. Mama will do all the work."

That only made Giorno question things further as he drifted in the realm between sleep and wakefulness. He was comfortable, sure, and the sensation felt nice, but that was wrong. The voice was wrong.

"Why don't you tell your mother all about all those special things you can do?" A hand threaded through his hair, stroking gently.

Unease washed through Giorno. No, his mother's voice was always abrasive, dismissive, especially when she was talking to him. She would never stroke his brow like this. It would be more likely to be Bucciarati helping him through a nightmare of maybe a fever?

But these hands…they were too large and they didn't have callouses like Bucciarati's did.

Giorno had no clue who the hell this was.

He wrenched his eyes open, jerking away from the figure bent over him.

"Get off me! Don't touch me!" Giorno croaked, lashing out,

Padovesi appeared in the dim light of the room, grabbing his wrists all too easily. The man sighed. "I could have sworn that would work. But it seems I've just embarrassed myself."

Giorno snarled at him. "My mother was an uncaring bitch. Maybe you should do your research before you try to manipulate your captives."

Padovesi huffed. "It appears you didn't get as much of that drug in you as I'd hoped. I suppose I'll have to try a different method."

He wrestled Giorno onto the bed, and Giorno fought, clawing and kicking at the man but he was still weak and was a lot smaller so Padovesi easily overpowered him and shoved him face down with a knee in his back, nearly smothering him in the pillows.

"I realize it's a slow process," Padovesi grunted. "But you are infernally stubborn. I think we'll up the dose."

Giorno continued to struggle, but could do little as his shirt collar was pulled aside and a needle was stuck in his neck.

The wash of numbness that spread over him as the drugs were administered had him pinned to the bed. He might have smothered himself in the pillows if Padovesi hadn't turned him over, looming over him in the dimly lit room, eyes shining in the dark.

"Take a moment to breath, Giorno," he said as Giorno struggled to even make sense of his words. They were like honey on a cold morning, oozing into his ears. "And then tell me about your powers."


The days melded into one. Giorno spent so often in a drug-induced state that he couldn't count the hours properly by the time he had a moment of clarity. He either stayed in the room, trying to sleep off the effects, or was led down to dinner where he was forced to eat off the floor beside Padovesi's chair.

Between those times, were the things he couldn't really remember. Snatches of conversations with his captor and needles in his flesh. He couldn't ever remember saying things, but was sure he was coming close a couple times. However, Padovesi usually left him with fury in his eyes, shaking Giorno as if that would help.

He hallucinated too. He saw Diavolo again. Sometimes his stepfather would make an appearance. On occasion, the others. He woke up to see Narancia lying dead in the corner of his room once. Another time, staring out the window, he saw Bucciarati's broken body on the mountainside. He also chased Trish through the halls one day only to come face to face with himself in a full-length mirror. That was real. He knew because he broke it and cut his hands and feet on the glass. He didn't remember what happened after that, but he still had the cuts when he came back to himself in his room, mostly healed by Gold.

The constant guessing game of what was real and what wasn't, the not knowing what he was saying, what information he might have given when he was out of his head, was wearing.

Giorno sat looking out the window one day when Padovesi showed up in his room, a smirk on his face that instantly turned Giorno's stomach.

"So, Gold Experience is what you call it, then?" Padovesi asked.

Giorno stared at him, terror welling up in his throat. Had he said that? Brief flashes of shadows and looming figures and swirling thoughts came to him. Words heavy on his tongue as he mouthed the name of his Stand, the being that had been a part of him since before he even knew it was there.

"It creates life, doesn't it? That's how you can heal yourself."

"Leave me alone," Giorno whispered.

"I will if you show it to me," Padovesi said, coaxing, sickeningly kind.

Giorno turned away from him.

"Show me, Giorno."

Giorno shook his head, hands shaking. The drug did that too when it was wearing off. It wouldn't be long before Padovesi plied him with it again, he was sure. He had to take advantage of this brief moment of pseudo clarity.

"Show it to me, Giorno, and I'll let you go."

He didn't believe him. Not for a second. Padovesi wanted too much. Giorno would not be fooled by empty promises.

"Show me. You say you're so powerful, so prove it to me."

Giorno stared down at his hands, feeling more and more agitated by the second as the man would just not shut up.

"Show me, Giorno!" A command now, not a request. "Show it to me, or I put you back on Bianchi's table and let him cut you apart again!"

"Stop."

"Show me!"

"No."

Padovesi grabbed Giorno by the shirt and hauled him out of the chair, slamming him back against the wall, hard enough for Giorno to see stars and lose his breath.

"Then I'll request that Gold Experience show itself," the man growled. "So, show yourself Gold Experience! If you want your user to survive, show yourself." His hand was on Giorno's throat now, pressing into his windpipe. Giorno's eyes widened and he gagged, bringing his hands up to claw at Padovesi's wrists.

"Show yourself, Gold Experience!"

And to Giorno's shock, his Stand burst out of him. But it was not Gold Experience Requiem. It was, instead, simply the first iteration of his Stand.

"Muda!"

Padovesi suddenly flew backwards, crashing into the bed and tumbling over it. The sheets turned into thorny briars and pinned him flat.

"The hell?" he gasped.

Giorno didn't waste time. He sprinted for the door as Gold kicked it open. Guards raced behind him and Giorno turned everything in his path into vines to capture and contain them so that they could not follow him.

He finally found the front door and raced for it, heart pounding.

His hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn it into vines to get free, when a gunshot rang out.

Giorno's right leg collapsed under him and he crashed onto the ground, unable to help the scream of pain that tore through him.

Blood gushed from his thigh and he was only barely able to start Gold repairing the most important arteries before he was dragged up by two of the guards and held limply between them as Padovesi strode forward, looking both furious and elated as he wiped blood off his face with a handkerchief, multiple scratches from the thorns visible through the tears in his expensive clothes.

"Remarkable," he muttered. "You truly are powerful, my little pet. Exactly why I need to keep you for myself. However, I cannot condone your behavior either."

He snapped his fingers to the men. "Go put him in the cage for now. I can't have him running off again."

Giorno groaned as he was dragged back down to the basement and to a dark room with nothing but a large cage in it. What was it even here for? Had there been previous captives, or had Padovesi put it there with him in mind?

Giorno was thrown inside the cage and the door was locked, leaving him curled up, clutching his still bleeding leg.

Padovesi stood outside the bars staring down at him.

"I'm sure you can heal that too."

Giorno gritted his teeth. "I should have killed you."

Padovesi gave him a patronizing smile as he crouched down to look Giorno in the eye. "You won't. In fact, you won't have a will of your own for much longer. My hard work is finally paying off. Soon, you'll just be a good little puppy who will roll over whenever I tell it to. And so will your Stand, it seems."

Giorno glared up at him for as long as Padovesi stayed there, and then watched him leave before he sunk down and curled up, clenching his jaw against the pain in his leg, the healing slow and agonizing. It took so much concentration with the drugs in his system and he had truly exhausted himself with his frantic outbursts of power earlier.

He wondered why it was this Gold who had appeared. He knew his Stand could shift at will, and yet…was it perhaps because Gold was hiding the arrow from Padovesi?

Giorno felt ill as he lay there, breathing through the pain. He had to figure something out. It seemed like rescue wasn't coming, so it was probably best to save himself.

He had done it before, he would do it again.


The only way Giorno could mark the passage of time was by Padovesi dosing him with the drugs, which he figured was roughly once a day. And then he would bring Giorno food, which he would only give him if he answered a question.

Giorno resisted most of the time but he was starving. He was clearly weakening and he could feel his ribs under his skin, uncomfortable when his bones pressed against the hard floor of the cage while he tried to sleep. His leg had healed for the most part, but it still ached from the cold and the lack of anything even remotely soft to sleep on.

He had to balance defiance with keeping his strength up, but everything just seemed so overwhelming right now.

One day, it was a command and not a question that Padovesi brought with him as he placed the bowl of the usual stew down next to Giorno's cage, along with a rock.

"Turn the rock into something and I'll give you the food," he said.

Giorno stared up at him lazily, contemplating. This wasn't information given, and yet, it seemed more personal. He knew Padovesi couldn't see Gold, but it still made Giorno feel vulnerable to use his powers in front of this man outside of combat.

They both stayed there in silence for a few long moments before Padovesi sighed and went to pick up the bowl. "You didn't eat yesterday either. If you're planning on starving yourself to death, it won't work. If you want to be that foolish, I'll have Bianchi force feed you."

Giorno waited for him to turn before he had Gold turn the rock into a rattlesnake. It hissed in annoyance and surged toward the moving figure.

Padovesi swiftly turned, pulling a pistol and shooting the snake before it could reach him. It turned back into a rock and crumbled on the ground.

"Why do you insist of trying my patience so much?" Padovesi snarled as he dumped the bowl of soup onto the floor of Giorno's cage and stomped out of the room.

Giorno ate it anyway because he was starving.


It was several more days before Padovesi returned to the room with two men and no food.

"Guess what? We're having a dinner party tonight, and you're going to be the main attraction," Padovesi said with a cruel glint in his eyes.

Giorno didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but didn't fight as the men unlocked the cage and dragged him out.

Padovesi wrinkled his nose. "You reek. Time to get cleaned up."

Giorno was dragged back upstairs to an opulent bathroom where a steaming tub was sitting. It would have been extremely tempting, but the two guards roughly stripped him before he could protest and threw him into the water.

Giorno cried out, fighting as they held him down and scrubbed him roughly while Padovesi watched. The men cursed as Giorno got them soaked.

"I can clean myself!" he snapped before he was dunked under the water to wet his hair. He came back up with a choking gasp as shampoo was roughly applied to his filthy curls. Soap ran into his eyes and they burned.

When the horrible ordeal was finally over, he was hauled out of the dingy water and thrown a towel, thankfully allowed to dry himself off.

Padovesi pointed to a bench sitting against the opposite wall. "That's your outfit for the night."

Giorno waited for them to leave but none of the men even bothered to so much as turn around. So Giorno gritted his teeth in humiliated indignation, yanking the new underwear on under the towel and dressing as swiftly as he could in the black trousers, ruffled shirt and suitcoat that had been provided.

When he had finished, Padovesi sat him down in front of a mirror and took up a hairbrush.

Giorno stared in dismay at his reflection. He almost couldn't recognize himself. His face was gaunt and sallow, hair lank and eyes glassy, the pupils blown. He cringed as Padovesi started to brush his hair, wrenching the brush through the tangles hard enough to pull Giorno's head backwards as he leaned in close. Giorno cringed as he could feel the man's breath on the back of his neck.

"You must be on your best behavior tonight, pet," Padovesi said darkly. "I have a lot of important guests that I want to make a good impression with. I want them to know what having a powerful tool like you in my possession means, so you had better do what you're told, otherwise there will be consequences, you understand?"

Giorno stared at the man's reflection in the mirror. "You think some skinny boy will change what they think of you?"

Fingers wound painfully through his hair and yanked his head backwards to expose his pale throat. Padovesi leaned in threateningly. "Is that what you are now? How quickly you change your tune when it benefits you. Now, if you don't want me to put more stripes on your back like your daddy did in front of all of my dinner guests, I would appreciate you cooperating."

Giorno's stomach turned and he tried to lean away from the man again, only to have him tighten his grip, grabbing his throat and squeezing slightly as he pressed his mouth close to Giorno's ear. "Do I have your promise to behave?"

Giorno swallowed hard, throat bobbing against Padovesi's palm. "Yes," he whispered.

"Good."

Padovesi released his throat and reached one handed to a drawer in the vanity, pulling out a syringe. Giorno's stomach dropped and he struggled again before Padovesi simply yanked him back against him with his grip in Giorno's hair. "Easy. We'll do a half-dose tonight. I want you to be coherent enough so the guests don't suspect any foul play."

Giorno gritted his teeth as the drug was pumped into his veins again. There was the familiar disconnect and numbness, though it wasn't quite as bad as usual. Padovesi finally released him and smoothed his hair out before braiding it tightly. He then grabbed some makeup and covered the gauntness and the dark bruises on Giorno's face, adding blush for the appearance of health. He then buttoned Giorno's collar tight and added a necktie to cover the needle-marks in his neck.

"Best to keep up appearances, hm?" he said and checked his watch. "Our guests will be arriving soon. I need to go get dressed myself and then it's showtime."

Eventually, Giorno was led down to the dining hall behind Padovesi. The guards didn't keep a hold of him this time, but they did walk behind them as if waiting for Giorno to try something.

He didn't. Not yet. He wanted to read the room first.

Padovesi gave a greeting as he entered the room, thanking everyone for being there. Giorno instinctively knelt beside his chair as he sat down.

Padovesi chuckled and reached down to ruffle his hair in a fond gesture that turned Giorno's stomach.

"My new little pet is quite obedient, as you can see. Come now, Giorno, it's a special occasion, you can sit at the table tonight."

Giorno flamed with embarrassment as he stood again and sat in the seat to Padovesi's left that was free, staring down at the table, refusing to make eye contact with any of the guests. He had no idea who was here, but he hoped it was people he didn't know. He wasn't sure he could ever recover if men high up in Passione were to see him like this. Their own don brought so low that he was nothing but a dog on the leash of a politician.

That was when he felt pointed eyes on him and the sensation was too intense not to at least look and see who it was.

Giorno lifted his head briefly, glancing down the table to where the gaze was coming from.

Shock jolted through him.

Bucciarati stared back, eyes glued to him, barely hiding their own shock, fury, something unreadable…

Giorno blinked hard and quickly looked away. It wasn't real, Bucciarati wasn't really here, he was sure of it. Padovesi wouldn't be that stupid. Giorno felt sick as food, real food, was placed in front of him by the servers. He should have been elated, but he had no stomach for it. The drugs churned his guts and his brain, making him see things he wanted to see, but not what was actually there.

Even if Bucciarati was here, what could he really do?

"Thank you all for joining me tonight," Padovesi said, addressing the guests. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I asked you here, and I'll get to that eventually. But the first order of business, well, I think it's obvious that I have a new acquisition. I'm sure most of you know about the young Don of Passione—some of you might have even sworn your fealty to him. Well, now he works for me, and I hope that, eventually, all of you will too."

Giorno's breath froze in his throat as he turned toward Padovesi who was looking down the table at the silent faces that showed both confusion and concern, some anger.

Padovesi chuckled, reaching out to grip Giorno's shoulder, making him flinch. "Yes, Giorno Giovanna is my new weapon. His power is now my own. Isn't it, Giorno?"

The cold, grey eyes pinned him firmly, and Giorno felt woozy, swaying slightly in the chair. He found himself nodding slowly, if only to get the man to stop looking at him.

Padovesi took hold of Giorno's chin and raised his head up, pointing at the chandelier hanging above the table. "Why don't you show the gentlemen a little party trick?"

Giorno blinked, the light blurring slightly before he glanced back at Padovesi. He really wanted him to change it into something? Here? Giorno didn't like using his powers in front of anyone unless it was a combat situation. He didn't even know who half of these men were. Some he knew were from Passione—he still refused to look at the Bucciarati shape sitting at the table—but did they have any idea what a Stand power even was? Probably not. He didn't want a bunch of politicians anywhere near Stand powers. It hadn't exactly gone well with Padovesi.

"Go on, Giorno," the man said firmly, and Giorno felt the drug compelling him, making him more suggestable. He looked up at the chandelier again and tried to search for Gold in his subconscious, always harder to do when the drugs were newly in his system.

His Stand appeared though and the chandelier suddenly shifted shape, the branches forming into snakes that began to drop down onto the table.

The diners leapt back with shock and terror, scrambling away from the serpents as they slithered across the table before Giorno had them changed back to pieces of chandelier.

Confusion and horror washed around the room, as everyone stared at Giorno and Padovesi who reached out to pet Giorno's head gently, making his skin crawl.

"Quite the impressive little pet, isn't he? Let that be a warning. My new guard dog bites. How about we discuss business?"

One man slammed his fist down on the table. "You think we want to discuss business with you? What the devil are you playing at, Padovesi? I don't care how many cheap parlor tricks you want to show us. You're insane. Keep your unsavory pastimes to yourself."

He moved to leave, and Padovesi leaned in close to Giorno. "Stop him."

Giorno had no idea who this man was, but again, he felt compelled to do so, simply beginning to not care as much about defiance. He turned the vase that was sitting on a table next to the dining room entrance into a thick vine that reached out to trip the man.

He fell to his hands and knees with a grunt, glancing in shock at the vine caught around his ankle.

"What…?"

"Senator Rossi, I would appreciate it if you would at least hear me out," Padovesi said with an open-handed gesture. "No decisions need be made tonight, I assure you. I'm simply looking for some new opportunities to advance. I'm sure everyone here understands that?"

He was met with silence but eventually the men trickled back to the table, all watching Giorno cautiously. Padovesi nodded with a small smile. "I truly appreciate it. Now, please, allow me to answer any questions you might have."

The dinner finished and conversation was moved to a lounge where Giorno hung back in a corner, trying simply to stay upright, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He was probably meant to stay in case Padovesi needed another show of strength, but he was honestly so tired at the moment, dizzy and hurting, that he thought it might be worth whatever punishment might come if he simply left to go back to his room to lie down.

That was when he caught sight of Bucciarati again. The man stood aside from the others, holding a glass he hadn't drunk from. He still had his eyes on Giorno, and that was enough to make the decision for him.

Giorno refused to be tormented by any more hallucinations of his famiglia. He would rather suffer the physical pain than that.

So he slipped out of his corner and headed away from the crowded room while Padovesi was busy talking to other guests. All pleasantries. (Had he put something in their drinks too?) Giorno was sure the senator secretly wanted to rule over them all. The man was obviously insane with the want of power.

He breathed a brief sigh of relief when he got to the empty corridor. There weren't even any bodyguards hanging around right now.

"Giorno."

Giorno glanced back to see that Bucciarati had followed him. The hallucination was staring at him with shock. He looked over his shoulder before swiftly approaching.

"My god, Giorno, it's so good to see you again. I promise we're working on a way to get you out of here, you just have to give us a little time—"

Giorno ducked away as the familiar form reached out. "Don't!" he snapped.

Bucciarati stopped, hand outstretched. "Giorno…"

"Stop saying my name! Just don't touch me! Please! I know you're not real, so get out! Get out of my head!"

The hallucination's face shifted to horror, then a deep sadness mixed with anger. For a second it looked so much like the real Bucciarati that Giorno hesitated because he really couldn't be sure of anything. Was it…possible?

Before he could reach out himself and see if Bucciarati was corporeal, Padovesi swept in and took Giorno around the shoulders.

"There you are, pet. Come now, it's time for you to get some rest."

He completely ignored Bucciarati, which confirmed Giorno's suspicions and his heart sank so quickly he felt his body sag, knees simply giving out.

"My, my, too much excitement for you, was it?" Padovesi crooned mockingly as he grabbed the back of Giorno's coat, hauling him back up. "Shall I carry you then?"

Giorno staggered away from him, skin crawling. "Leave me alone," he croaked.

Padovesi handed him off to two guards who grabbed his arms and hauled him back to the room again. Giorno curled on the bed and finally, for the first time since he had been captive there, tears flowed.

Because he knew the truth now. No one was coming for him and he had lost the will to fight. He was nothing but a tool to Padovesi and it looked like that wasn't going to chance any time soon.


Bucciarati drove back to the small lodge, hands clenched on the steering wheel. He silently returned to the room, slamming the door behind him.

The others looked up from various activities. Narancia jumped up instantly.

"You're back! Was he there?"

Bucciarati yanked off his suitcoat and undid his tie.

"Well?" Abbacchio demanded, wary.

"Yeah, he was there," Bucciarati gritted out before he lost it and spun around with a cry of fury he had been holding in this whole time, slamming his fist into the wall. A zipper ran up it before disappearing, leaving behind a crack from floor to ceiling.

"Hey, take it easy," Abbacchio snapped.

Bucciarati spun on him. "You didn't see him, Leone! God, I'll tear that fucking bastard into chum bits for what he did to Giorno, I promise you that!"

"What happened to Giorno?" Narancia demanded.

"Honestly, I don't know, but Padovesi is manipulating him somehow." Bucciarati ran a hand through his hair, mussing his bangs. He could still see the look on Giorno's face when he had tried to talk to him. Like he didn't think Bucciarati was really there. It had taken everything in Bucciarati's power to watch that man cart Giorno off, to leave him there. Especially since Giorno didn't even seem to think it was actually him. That there might even be a chance of rescue.

"What's worse is that place is literally a fortress," Bucciarati continued tiredly. "We're not going to get in there by ourselves."

"Then we'll call in help," Mista said, folding his arms over his chest. "The entirety of Passione stands behind Giorno. They'll come to help him."

Bucciarati pressed his knuckles to his mouth, thinking. "We still need a plan."

"Then we'll come up with one," Fugo agreed firmly. "Tomorrow, Narancia can use Aerosmith to fly over the mansion and get the layout and to count the possible guards. After that we just have to figure out the easiest way in."

"And once we're in, I'm guessing getting out won't exactly be the problem?" Trish asked darkly.

"No, it shouldn't be," Bucciarati replied. "Anyone who decides to kidnap the Don of Passione will meet the consequences of their actions."


Later that night, Padovesi came into Giorno's room. The dinner party must have ended, but he was still in his formal wear, tie loose and the smell of alcohol and cigar smoke lingering around him.

"Honestly, you could have done better tonight," he said as he stood over Giorno's bed.

"You didn't tell me what you wanted," Giorno replied.

"I told you I wanted to make an impression."

"It looks like you did." Giorno was too tired for this. "Did you want me to kill them?"

"That was not my intention tonight," Padovesi said. "My announcement will obviously be met with pushback, however, and I need to be ready." He stepped closer and reached down to grip Giorno's shoulders. "I need your power as my own."

"I told you that's not possible," Giorno gritted out.

"You're lying," Padovesi spat, shaking him, fingers digging into his flesh. "You have other powers than healing and turning things into creatures and plants. I heard a rumor about what you really did to your predecessor. Was that a one-time thing then?"

"I don't control that part of my Stand," Giorno said tiredly. "That's the part that operates outside of myself."

Something glinted in Padovesi's eyes and he pulled back for a second, contemplating. "Interesting. And is this the power you gained with the arrow?"

Giorno didn't reply, but the man seemed to come to his own conclusion. "How do you summon it?"

"That part of Gold Experience decides on its own," Giorno said. "I cannot make it do anything."

Padovesi began to look impatient. He reached into his coat for a small leather case, snapping it open and taking out a syringe. "Bianchi warned me not to up your dose, but I wonder…if your Stand truly is part of you, will it start to effect Gold Experience as well?"

"Don't," Giorno snapped, trying to shift away, but Padovesi simply grabbed him and easily overpowered him to administer the drug.

Giorno squeezed his eyes shut against the vertigo, which was not helped by the fact that Padovesi grabbed his shoulders again and shook him.

"Show me your Stand, Giorno. I want to see it."

"Can't," Giorno grunted. "You can't really see them."

"Gold Experience showed itself before, so bring it out again!"

Giorno tried to struggle away, refusing to bring his Stand out even though he could feel the compulsive tug as the drug started to take effect, muddling his brain, swirling everything together into a muffled, dreamlike state.

"Show yourself, Gold Experience! Show me the Requiem arrow!"

"You don't even know what you're asking for, stop!" Giorno snapped.

Padovesi reached into his coat and there was the glint of gunmetal in the dim room. Something cold and hard pressing up underneath Giorno's chin.

"How about if your user is being threatened?" Padovesi demanded. "Will you show yourself then, Gold Experience? Or do I have to blow his brains out?"

Giorno squeezed his eyes shut and Padovesi slammed the pistol into his face, splitting his cheek open.

"I guess we'll just have to see then," he growled, cocking the gun.

A figure burst from Giorno, flushing the room with golden light. The bullets in the gun turned into ivy that choked up the barrel, and familiar arms wrapped around Giorno, hauling him away from Padovesi as the man jerked back in surprise.

"Gold Experience, you're here!" Padovesi said in awe. "Can you show yourself to me?"

"MUDA!"

Gold's arms tightened around Giorno as the Stand kicked out, hitting Padovesi directly in the center of the chest and sending him crashing into the wall with a thud and a yelp.

Guards burst into the room, guns leveled at Giorno, but Padovesi held his hands up as he staggered to his feet.

"Don't," he grunted. "He needs to stay alive for now." He dusted himself off. "Our conversation will be resumed tomorrow, Giorno. I can see that there are other options that we might be able to pursue."

Giorno watched him leave, before he slumped back onto the bed, Gold releasing him. He curled up on his side, staring out the window. He was just so tired. Would there ever be an end to this? It felt like he had already been here for an eternity.