Joy just sat there leaning against the wall as the coroner's van pulled away. She took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled heavily as she looked at the warehouse. They had stormed back in after the self set time limit ran out, but all they found were bodies of various mercenaries, unfortunate victims, and on the body Jason bloodied and beaten over a defuse bomb. She chuckled bitterly as she snubbed the cigarette against the wall and continued to silently curse herself.

She cursed her own weakness since she wasn't able to even save one of the people who saved her. It was just insulting to know that only a floor below her and after her opponent left her to her own devices the man she thought of as a big brother and helped save her died doing just that. It made her feel so weak, especially since she couldn't even beat her opponent in the end, even with her new trick. She crossed her arms and dug her fingers into her arms as the self hatred wrapped around her, she couldn't save anybody. Maybe it was just the trauma from when she was younger, but she couldn't help but think back to every instance where she couldn't save anybody. Her parents died trying to defend her, Marshall lost friends helping her, and Jason lost his life trying to save her.

She turned and walked a few steps down an alley letting the hate fester for a bit. He died for her and she couldn't even fucking cry for him. It wasn't that she wasn't sad or heartbroken, but she just couldn't cry. All her sadness just seemed to fuel her complete and utter self hatred. She unfurled her arms and through a haymaker at the nearest wall, feeling a rather painful sensation travel up her arm. She ignored her now bleeding knuckles and ran her hands through her hair. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

She wanted to cry, she knew she should, but she just couldn't. In part she knew it was a degree of familiarity with death, well more so murder but the principle was still the same. She figured Marshall was feeling the same, but she wasn't a military veteran turned special agent investigating an organized crime group. She was a month away from being eighteen and having an internal debate with herself over sadness, God what was wrong with her.

What made it worse was the fact that it did hurt to lose Jason, and just knowing that he gave it up for their sake reminded her of the promise he had made when they first picked her up. She chuckled as she started walking out of the alley looking to rejoin the group and figure out what's going on. She wouldn't let his sacrifice go to waste, she was going to make him the hero he swore he would be. She but her uninjured hand in her pocket and felt the stupid bracelet he had always worn from when he been an EMT. He had always said that some girl gave it to him after he had to give CPR to the mother and managed to bring her back.

She exited the alley and strolled forward noticing Marshall spinning the chamber on his pistol while leaning against a car. He didn't glance up as he spoke," How are you holding up?"

She joined him against the car before responding," Okay, I guess"

Marshall put the gun in its holster before running his hands through his hair," It's just infuriating, having fought so hard with him for so long to not be there with him when he…"

Joy looked over at Marshall," You know that he wouldn't blame you right, he knew that this was possible."

"Just cause he knew doesn't mean it's fair," Marshall quickly retorted," I shouldn't have brought him or you, or anybody else in on the investigation. I saw somebody with a stand who had encountered a part of Mortis organization and thought that he would be able to help."

"You know he would have gotten involved anyway," Joy spit back," His goal was always to be a hero to people and he was always willing to throw his body away for others."

"But Mortis-"

Joy cut him off," I know Mortis and you think for a minute that psychopath would let him go after finding out about him, either way he would have ended up here."

Marshall went quiet for a minute before finally speaking again," Thanks."

Joy nodded before attempting to push away from the car but Marshall spoke up first," It's not your fault either."

Joy looked back with a somewhat confused expression until Marshall continued," I know you, and how you are beating yourself up over not being able to do anything."

"Well I-"

"We didn't account for a bomb, hence the plan being for all of you to leave or for John and I to come rushing in. You followed the plan, you didn't make a mistake."

Joy looked at him incredulously," But I could have gone down there and saved him, my fight bailed and I had time."

"And you followed my plan, it all come back to the plan and the fear of losing any of the data we had."

Joy stopped and flexed the hand with the bloody knuckles before nodding and walking off towards the other two members of the party. It was a fairly quiet walk as the policemen ignored her since she was with the 'FBI' group, aside from the occasional leering glances. She would have gotten into a fight if any of the men said anything to her, but they thankfully didn't. She plopped down on the curb next to John, who upon glancing at her simply held out the box of cigarettes. She took one and borrowed the lighter as John asked," How are you doing?"

Joy took a drag and thought back to ," It's complicated, but I'm holding up….same as Marshall."

John nodded and the duo fell into a silence while Joy started her cigarette and John finished his. The silence was broken by Seth shuffling over with one hand wrapped tightly and secured with a brace. He made it over and fell down next to the duo prompting Joy to ask," What's the damage?"

Seth looked mildly annoyed before chuckling," Three ribs, a broken hand, two teeth just missing, another three loose, and a completely shattered nose."

"Nice," Joy commented dryly," I made it out with a broken finger and some bruised ribs."

"Somehow we are still worse off then the big lug here," Seth commented gesturing to John who glared back unamused."

Joy outright laughed at the stupid joke getting a chuckle out of Seth and an annoyed head shake out of John. The group settled into another silence as Seth drank from a bottle of water he had received from the ambulance. She sighed and took another drag of the cigarette as she thought about where they were in scope of the entire debacle. They had another address, the Kentucky one, but now they were even farther behind the curve since Mortis had gone ahead. They also couldn't send anybody outside of their group to the New York Address because they didn't know how deep the corruption ran in regards to Mortis. In essence they were God knows how far behind a convoy of trained and deadly people, with only four stand users. Her moping was interrupted by the all too familiar voice of Marshall from behind," You all are still here?"

Seth and John both had incredulous looks on their faces, but John was the first to speak," Yeah we are. We both signed up for the long haul and I still don't know who or what the hell I am, so my options are fairly limited."

Seth just nodded and Marshall smirked before continuing," Well you all can grab your things from the car, the taxi will be here in fifteen minutes to take us to the airport."

"Why the hell are we going to an airport?," Joy asked with the confusion evident on her face.

Marshall looked at her dryly before she suddenly slapped her forehead and said out loud," Never mind…"

She ignored the laughter coming from John and Seth and headed towards the car in order to get her backpack. She smiled a little bit as she pulled the bracelet from her pocket and slipped it on, though it was a little big the self hatred that wrapped her up let go a little. She felt a new idea enter her mind and it was one that quickly became her main one; Be a hero. That was the goal that had guided Jason's life and now...she was going to make it up to him by accomplishing it.

About two hours and three arguments with the staff at the small airport about whether or not John could have his cigarettes on the plane, Seth finally found himself in a semi comfortable plane seat. It was a small six person passenger plane for a five hour trip, though he really wasn't complaining. It was partially the painkillers he took before take off dulling his general senses, but the other was a love for planes he had since he was a kid. He hadn't gone into aviation because his parents beat it into him to go into something cushy in order to support him, but after his new found experiences and talks with...her he found himself reevaluating.

He snapped out of his emotional thinking when he felt an elbow meet his arm, albeit the uninjured one, and dig into it. He looked away from the window and saw Joy readjusting in her sleep again, something she had been doing for the past half hour they had been in the air, but he hadn't been counting. He looked down the row and saw John and Marshal looking through the notes and data everybody had gathered. He had already looked it over and put together what the project was; Synthetic stands. I mean it sounds completely insane but he could now produce fifty beetles that could incite rage in a person, so anything seemed to be possible. It really was based on the idea that a soul could be preserved in some capacity, since based on what Marshall and Jason had told him the stand reflects a person's soul, or fighting spirit, depending on who answered.

"Hey Marshall so you know what makes a stand, or whatever humanoid?"

Marshall looked up from the paper that he was looking at before saying, " I don't have any idea what actually influences how the stand forms."

Seth rolled his eyes and went back to his pondering over what each stand really said about the user. 『RIDE THE LIGHTNING』made sense as John was extremely, extremely impulsive and even quicker to act, he also was an athletic freak for someone who was 44 and smoked like no tomorrow. His stand, 『BALLROOM BLITZ』, was also fairly simple; he was a manipulative ass who had little to no physical power. After that it felt like he was delving into his old psychology class from college trying to psychoanalyze everybody based on some abstract representation of who they are. He snickered as he remembered his rather insane psychology teacher and how those were some of his favorite classes in his rather boring class list.

Another elbow to his arm got him refocused on his self appointed task, as well as give him the next victim. Joy's 『ALICE IN CHAINS』was interesting as she seemed to be rather free spirited but the constant thing with chains made it seem that she was tied down by something. He shook his head and moved on to Marshall's 『FOUGHT THE LAW』which was easily the simplest one...he was a lawman. Another elbow dug into his arm and made him move to alleviate the pressure, but a clinking noise caught his attention. He looked down at the stiff brace that covered his now broken hand and felt an odd emotion well up in his chest.

She had been the first person he had ever opened up to, and she was the first person he had really ever bothered to want to help….aside from the present company. Maybe it was just the severe circumstance they were stuck in but talking with her had been one of the few things that led him to holding on for as long as he did in that hell hole. Especially when they upped the experiments on both of them, that had been the worst period of time. Though a close second was the day she passed since apparently her stand had been eating her alive, basically it was a self destructive stand. Honestly that moment had been one of the things that fueled him to hang on to life, that and his complete and utter spite for the doctors that came in every day.

He shook his head and looked out the window again, trying to take his mind off what happened then and instead try to think about what was going to happen in the future.

Hetfield kept his foot pressed down on the pedal as the truck coasted along I-70, while casting glances at Mortis who sat in the cab looking over notes still. It was honestly impressive that he was so calm despite the scenario that the organization was in, but then again Hetfield wasn't getting paid to care about that. He glanced down at the speedometer and pressed down the pedal a little harder, 135 wasn't a bad speed but he really wanted to make it to Kentucky as quickly as possible. It wasn't anticipation of finally achieving the goal behind Living Colour, but more so the ability to get out of the bosses cross hairs.

It was incredibly unnerving even being next to the man, his demeanor was just so different from what he knew Mortis was capable of. The man who resembled a family doctor was so easily capable of murder, extortion, and illegal human experimentation-all for the sake of achieving some odd personal goal.

Hetfield turned his eyes back to the road and eyed the speedometer again before Mortis suddenly spoke up," Hetfield...I have to ask, why exactly did you join my organization."

Hetfield eyed the man curiously before cautiously responding, " Money and power...you offered a chance at both that I couldn't get anywhere else."

Mortis nodded before turning back to his notes and silently flipping through a few times before speaking up again," I was just wondering if it had anything to do with Living Colour and the Powerslave projects?"

Hetfield chuckled," I can't deny that I'm interested in how this turns out since it is certainly damn ambitious."

Mortis nodded his head with fervor," Assuming it works I'll be able to control the nature of a stand at its inception, and at that point I will have surpassed my old master."

Hetfield looked over at Mortis who had finally calmed down from his fervor, and chuckled a small amount. He would definitely hang around as long as Mortis and his projects showed promise and gave him an opportunity to move up in the criminal underbelly. Since he had gone from a simple thug to one of the enforcers for Mortis's organization. He also found it interesting that this man was so desperate to surpass his old master, or teacher, or whatever the old British guy had been. The way Mortis talked about him sometimes made him seem like some sort of god or something.

As the plane flew its course on the path to Kentucky, Rod Priest finished checking into the two star hotel and made his way into the room. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to get the pain to lessen, it didn't work but the effort made him feel better. "God damn I forget how awful the aftermath of my fun time is."

He dropped his duffel bag on the ground before looking at the back of his hand where the 'shadow' had pooled around the back of his hand, a solid signal that it had been broken. It was shocking that he hadn't felt it but that tended to happen with 『THE RIPPER 』and it's ability. He took off the leather jacket that he was wearing as his thoughts shifted away from the fight and to what happened to his brother. He knew that the brat had lost, not shocking since he was a weak shit, but all Free had bothered to tell him was that he was alive. It wasn't really a degree of brotherly love that he bothered to care about his brother but more for the sake of not pissing of Mortis, since he had brought the brat into the organization.

Rod Priest walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on before looking into the mirror. Jason, or whatever his name, really packed a punch he judged when he saw the shadows crawling along his jaw and holding the bone together. That ability had really made it difficult to get any sort of leverage even with his stand's ability to make spikes and claws, it honestly may have pushed him towards his limit. He peeled his shirt off next and took the time to observe his plethora of scars and the way the shadows danced along his skin. It was a little weird but he found the scars sexy and honestly they were all fun memories of a rather brutal life.

As he flexed in the mirror he failed to notice a faint glow appear around the duffel bag where the blood stained clothes were. It expanded and eventually coalesced into a vaguely humanoid form before looking around and stumbling towards the bathroom. As it did that it's form seemed to break apart and reform over and over again, almost as if it's body couldn't handle it's existence. It continued it's shaky and uneven walk through the room lumbering towards the bathroom. It's shaky steps eventually carried it through the door and into the bathroom, where Rod Priest was examining his torso.

Rod finally looked up from his torso and saw the glowing figure reflected in the mirror. He spun around and had 『THE RIPPER』crawl across his arms forming the brutal claws and spikes he had pulled out in his fight with Jason. The form just kept walking forward with it's uneven gait and stumbling walk, even as Rod lunged forward with claws out it kept going. In fact Rod went through the form like it wasn't even there, like it was just a phantom. He spun around after the failed attack phased through and almost immediately after he looked a bit closer before recognition flashed in his eyes," What the hell…"

In front of him stood a golden phantom of Jason's stand, breaking and falling apart every few seconds but still standing. "I don't know how the hell he pulled but I'll dice you to pieces."

He lunged forward with the claws only for his left arm to suddenly bend ninety degrees in the wrong direction. It was a sudden shock but nothing Rod hadn't handled before, especially with 『THE RIPPER』keeping the dam- his train of thought was interrupted when his eardrums both exploded. That sudden shock of pain through off his second attempted attack making him stop and looked confused at the phantom stand that hadn't even done anything. It suddenly took a step forward and a cut exploded across his face, while at the same time his calf suddenly opened dozens of small holes like buckshot had hit him. He winced as his stand rushed across his body to close the new wounds, but a sudden explosion of cuts all over his body began to stretch it a little thin. He still had his confidence at least until he felt his right hand suddenly shatter and his stand was a little slow to piece him back together. His nose suddenly twisted to the right as the bones broke, and only a second later his ribs exploded in pain. His eyes went wide as he realized the phantom was getting closer with it's shaky steps. His eyes widened with fear as the startling realization hit him, 'It was dealing damage in a higher quantity than his stand could handle.' He turned to run, the pain no longer being fun now that he wasn't recovering. But his right leg suddenly exploded into a fountain of blood sending him to the ground as his stand tried to patch him back together. More pain exploded along his body as new wounds opened up, bones turned to powder and he felt his appendix rupture and explode in his body. The phantom stumbled closer and the wounds exploded faster and faster across Rod's body, until it eventually came close enough to touch the back of Rod's head, and the moment it did all the wounds that were ever dealt to Jason exploded across the body of Rod sending him almost immediately into shock, if not killing him.

After doing that it stood straight up and its form began to dissolve more and more , fading into ethereal nothingness as a puddle of blood spread across the floor.

『HERE COMES REVENGE』

- Eye for an eye, Tooth for a tooth, A life for a life,-

The hidden ultimate ability of Jason's stand and a culmination of his willingness to throw away his body for the sake of others. The phantom of his stand cannot be physically interacted with and in turn can't interact with anything but the one who killed it's user. In close proximity it inflicts all damage its user had ever taken, including damage prior to the stands appearance, onto the killer. Once physical contact is made all the damage is inflicted in one quick moment, but prior to contact the damage appears in small bursts.

-Stands that heal are able to negate the damage caused and is also possible to run away from the stand as it does only have a certain time limit of its life