Okay, so I've been thinking. After all this is over, I wanna go back in my story one more time, fix it up a bit more, and add a few more things. Especially in the earlier chapters. No notes in the beginning or end save for the Stand parameters and the story introduction. A definitive edition of Lost Heritage. Till then, I'll continue to writing as things are now. Hope you're all enjoying.

Ch. 30
Toy Soldiers

JANUARY 5TH, 1989
10:22
EDFU, EGYPT

Santana.

Esidisi.

Whamuh.

Kahz.

Some five thousand years ago, these four mysterious men appeared in history. Nobody knew what they were, where they came from, or when they came into being. What was known was that they were wicked, immortal beings who wielded unholy powers and could not thrive in the sunlight. They had only one goal in mind: to conquer their one weakness and surpass their own power to become the "Ultimate Thing", the pinnacle of evolution.

Kahz, the leader, created an intricate mask out of stone, which would push the brain to draw out its dark latent potential. On humans, it turned them into vampires, whom they indiscriminately transformed to fuel their hunger. But they could not use it upon themselves. Due to their immortal bodies, they needed a power source to amplify the mask's and push them further than what they were. And that source would come from a rarely naturally-occurring gemstone: the Red Stone of Aja.

One of these stones, perfect and powerful enough to use, the Super Aja, belonged to the Roman Empire. They coveted this jewel and travelled to Europe to steal it. However, warriors practiced in the art of Sendou stood in their way, determined to guard it with their lives. And that was exactly what the protection of the stone cost, the near-extinction of Sendou. But this did not deter these men. Confident that they will one day attain it, they entered a deep slumber against a giant stone column.

History would come to call them the Pillar Men.

Come 1938, and the Pillar Men awakened from their two-thousand year slumber. Their goal to steal the Super Aja remained unchanged. All that stood in their way now were Joseph Joestar, his master Lisa Lisa, and his companion Caesar Zeppeli. They fought long and hard, and while Caesar was killed and Kahz became the Ultimate Thing, they came out victorious in the end. Santana had been reduced to stone, Esidisi and Whamuh were vanquished, and Kahz was launched deep into space.

But now, some fifty years later, the ghosts of Joseph's bloody past had returned. He, along with his grandson, once again stood face to face with the spirits of Whamuh and Esidisi. And while Joaquín was certain that he felt the same mounting tension as he did, he couldn't begin to think how their presence was affecting Joseph. Was he panicking behind that serious expression? Was his blood boiling? He just couldn't tell.

"You've certainly grown older, Jojo," teased the stitched man, who Joaquín assumed was Esidisi given how he had been described to him before. "I can see that after all this time, you've dawdled on your hamon training. How pitiful."

"I had no need for it anymore," argued Joseph. "I had hoped that through your deaths, the world would be safer for me and my family to live in. But clearly that's not the case now. A new evil has arisen. And you two… You stand in our way."

"I can't believe that bitch had the audacity to bring you two back," growled Joaquín. "You both already lost once. You seriously wanna fight again?"

"We were born warriors, boy," answered Whamuh. "Our goal in life, aside from achieving perfection, was to fight. We may have died, but our fighting spirit still burns brighter than the sun itself. Which reminds me…" He looked up into the open ceiling of the courtyard, beholding the morning sky and the sun peeking over the temple. He flashed an unnaturally warm smile. "The sun… We can stand in it's light… Is this what it would have felt like had we became the Ultimate Thing?"

"Perhaps," mused Esidisi as he started to walk a circle around the duo, taking in their appearances. "But what I'm interested in is neither the sun or our revival… But the energy they are exuding… It isn't hamon, but something… similar… Coming from both those vines and that golden man…"

Joaquín and Preciosa both shared a glance before turning to the prowling Esidisi. "Yeah. That would be our Stands. The other spirits we fought could see them."

He eyed the two more curiously. "Stands… Odd… I've never seen anything like this before in all my life… Both of you… Show me what these Stands can do…"

"With pleasure," growled Joaquín. But before he could even think about running at the immortal man, Joseph spoke up.

"I'm not going to fight." Everyone, including Martika, looked at him in bewilderment. It's not like Abuelito to simply back out of a fight, thought his grandson. What's going on? Did he get hurt from earlier?

"Whatever for, Jojo," asked Esidisi with mild amusement. "You never wanted not to battle. Even when you were escaping Whamuh bleeding and nearly broken, your attack continued on."

"It has nothing to do with my advancing age. Or any injuries. As much as I want to duke it out once more with you both, I don't feel like this is my battle anymore. I've already defeated you once. To do it again, well… There's no fun in it. I'd understand if it were a stalemate, like with Kahz. But beating you again would give me no satisfaction."

Martika looked offended to hear this, her eyes wide and mouth baring teeth.. "B-But this is your big chance,' she insisted. "A rematch against immortal giants to settle the score! I wanted to see you valiantly fight your past, only to lose in disgrace!"

"That's another thing, girl." He pointed at her and smiled beneath his beard. "I don't want to give you the satisfaction of seeing it."

"A bold decision, Jojo," grunted Whamuh, who sat down cross-legged beside the fuming Martika. "If you choose not to face us, then we shall respect your decision. Of course, this means that the boy will fight in your stead?"

"Of course." Joseph rested a hand on his grandson's shoulder with pride. "This is one of my grandsons, Joaquín. Before your summoner came and rudely interrupted us, I was helping him train his hamon. When you announced your desire to fight, I knew he had to be the one to take you on. It'll be the perfect training for him. On top of that, I want to see how he beats you."

"Are you sure about this, Abuelito," asked Joaquín. He trusted his grandfather's intuition, despite not trusting his questionable transportation choices. But he couldn't help but worry when it came to confronting the Pillar Men. While confident in his victory, he worried more about how intact he could escape this encounter.

Sensing his unease, his grandfather smiled at him and said, "Of course. I wouldn't have you fighting alone if I didn't feel you could handle it. Besides," he then whispered, "if there's an opening, I might just sneak in a little surprise for them." His voice returned to its normal volume. "Just think of this as a test. One I know you'll ace with flying colors."

If there was any other person who could make Joaquín feel confident besides Della, it was his grandfather. He was right. Joaquín could take on the Pillar Men and win just like his grandfather. He had to. With a smile and thanks, he turned his attention back to Esidisi, who continued to prowl around the two.

"Jojo's grandson," he said with curiosity. "Yes… I can see him in you, alright… That fire in your eyes, the messy hair… And that confident, yet foolish smile… I will enjoy fighting the next generation. Now, strike me, boy. I'll allow you a chance to show me what you can do."

"You might regret those words," he stated before both he and Preciosa ran straight for Esididi. There was no defense from his opponent, prepared to take whatever Joaquín had to throw at him. He was planning something, he could feel it. Prepared to counter him, he clenched his fist and immediately punched this man's chest. And then, there was nothing. Esidisi didn't react. But the fist that would have slammed directly into him simply phased into him.

And Joaquín realized exactly why he wanted him to attack first.

This is one of their abilities, he remembered from his grandfather's stories. They can absorb organic matter… That's what he had planned… But… If I focus my hamon, then I won't end up getting mutilated by them at all!

With his body glowing with hamon and a roar escaping his throat, he swiftly dragged his arm out of the warrior. He had ended up creating a large bloody hole within his chest. While Esidisi staggered back, the wound didn't seem to bother him too much. In fact, seeing it made him chuckle. "The hell's so funny," barked Joaquín. "You wanted me to attack and that's exactly what I did! Don't tell me you're gonna say my hamon didn't sting you!"

"Don't worry, it does sting." He smiled and flexed his muscular arms. Several blood vessels and arteries hung from his open wound. "What amuses me is how strong your hamon is compared to Jojo's. I was just simply taken back by surprise. You may actually give me a better fight than he could back then."

The comment made Joseph scoff. "Big talk coming from a man who took defeat so sorely as he did."

"That was years ago. But I know better now." He hadn't turned to look at the elder of his two prey. This man was solely focused on Joaquín. "Tell me, who was it who taught you? It wasn't Jojo, was it?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Did it all on my own since I was a kid. And I've been constantly improving it every chance I get. Of course, my abuelito gives me a few pointers here and there. Now? Well…" He took a stance and focused his breathing. His body shivered with the power flowing through him, which exuded a brighter light than it had earlier in his battle with Martika. "I can definitely take you down."

Esidisi made a noise of amused pride. "You're a bold one, boy! And how sharp your gaze is… But… you should know that when men like you look at me like that… they die an early death… You're young boy, yet you so fearlessly stand before a man whose power you know nothing of… Do you even know who I am? "

"Yes. You're Esidisi. The same man who Abuelito Joseph killed all those years ago. I know all about you, from how you tried poisoning him to how merciless you are… I may not have fought you, but I'll send you back to hell like he did before me."

The man simply chuckled as he stretched his hands out before him. "I have another name, boy. I am 'Esidisi of the Flame'!" His fingernails twitched before peeling back, much to Joaquín's disgust. And then, blood vessels slithered out from the exposed skin and from his chest wound. It might have been Joaquín's imagination, but he could swear he saw him steaming up.

"Watch out, Joaquín," shouted Joseph. "He's changing modes!"

"Modes," he asked confusedly.

"Yes! That's his Flame Mode! He's able to boil his blood up to 600°C and use it against you!"

As if on cue, some blood began to drip from the openings of those writhing red ropes. The stone seared upon being touched by these boiling droplets. Esidisi laughed and shot them straight at Joaquín, shouting, "Monstrous Blazing King Mode!" The tubes slithered in the air towards their prey. Joaquín had no choice but to jump away and avoid them. It was almost difficult trying not to touch them. One of them spurted some of the heated blood at him, which managed to barely graze his arm.

Even through minimal contact, it still made him yelp in pain. Not wanting to get burned again, he and Preciosa jumped against one of the temple walls, clinging with their backs pressed against it. Looking down at the Pillar Man, who approached and chuckled through his small web of boiling death, he took a moment to do some quick thinking.

Okay… Boiling blood… How the hell am I gonna be able to counter that? Let's see… Maybe if I use some of Preciosa's oil, I could maybe capture the blood before it strikes… And in turn, maybe I could trap him… Yeah… Yeah, that'll work...

"Are you going to spend all day up there like a frog on a tree," chided Esidisi. "Or must I burn down your perch?"

"No need to, cabrón," insulted Joaquín before jumping off. His Stand's body started to swell up with oil as he shielded himself. Just as he did this, the tubes aimed at him and directly shot searing bullets of blood directly at the two. It was as he had hoped. "NOW! SAPO SAP SPATE!" And by flinging his arms apart, Preciosa's body releases all of its built-up oil. The blood was swallowed up by the globs of oil, which made them catch on fire as they landed around Esisidi.

The ones that didn't burn up were dodged, the warrior leaping and contorting his body in a way that brought the hairy freak Otis to mind. Of course, they all landed around him without much thought, just as Joaquín did. The Pillar Man simply sneered and laughed heartily. "Was that all your oil was going to do? Try to burn me with your hamon?"

Joaquín wagged his finger dismissively and smirked. "Not even in the slightest. Besides, I didn't even infuse it with hamon at all."

"Oh? Then what was it meant for, if not that?"

"Just a little distraction for Abuelito to get you with his Stand."

And just as he had expected again, Esidisi spun to look at Joseph, his blood vessels aimed at him. Of course, Joseph had no even moved since the two started fighting, simply watching them the way Martika was. His attention swiftly returned to Joaquín, sneering again. "You tried to trick me… And yet, even when my back was turned to you, you didn't take an opportunity to strike… What are you planning, boy?"

"Nothing you should know." He crossed his arms. "'All warfare is based on deception.' Surely you know that, right?"

"I do. And I have met the man who spoke that quote… Likewise, I said those exact same words to Jojo when we fought. I never fell for his tricks, and I will not fall for yours…" He tried to take a step, but he found that he couldn't lift his foot. He tried doing so with the other, but it would not leave the ground either. "W-What the..? What is this?" Esidisi growled as he tried vainly to free his feet. Joaquín, meanwhile, approached them man calmly.

"At first," he said simply.

"W-What?"

"At first. You never fell for them at first. In the end, even after you looked through my abuelito's tricks, you still fell for one more that ultimately ended you. See, I wasn't throwing that oil just as a distraction. My Sapo Sap, besides conducting hamon, can trap whatever touches it like a powerful glue. My distraction was telling you it was one, so you could turn around and get your feet caught in a puddle of my oil.

"What I'm trying to say, Esidisi is that… you fell for my trap!"

"You… You..!" Esidisi was too shocked and annoyed to even form words properly.

"And for your next line," he pointed straight at him, "you'll ask, 'Was this also a part of your trap," am I right?"

Quite suddenly, the thorny vines that formed Hermit Purple sprung behind Esidisi and completely ensnared him and his blood vessels. If he couldn't move before, he definitely couldn't now. Struggling in the grip of the Stand and the oil, he could only growl, "W-Was this also a part of your trap..?!"

"You're damn right it is!" His hamon glowed and focused straight into his and Preciosa's fists as he ran towards him. "Everything up until now was all according to plan!"

That was a lie. He simply said it to annoy both Esidisi and Martika.

Hermit Purple let go just in time for both Stand and user to wail into Esidisi with a barrage of blazing punches. A storm of "¡TOMATOMATOMA!" mingled together with the crackling of his dying foe's body. With one last punch, Esidisi crumbled to pieces and returned to the dust that recreated him. The reactions that followed were immediate. Joseph cheered. Whamuh looked mildly impressed. And Martika was livid, as expected.

Once the dust returned to her book, she growled, "You… why don't you just die already?!" She was not how Joaquín had first met her. Once cold and disturbingly seductive, she was slowly and steadily breaking. Like a child who can't get what they wanted right away.

"It'll take more than boiling blood or hundreds of spirits to stop a Trejo and a Joestar," said Joaquín, flashing his usual smile at her. "Your little relic is worthless against me."

The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. Even though he had not laid a finger on her, getting under this woman's skin was a sign that he was winning their battle. And Martika seemed to know this as well, for she inhaled through her nose and calmed herself as best as she could. "You may think it's worthless… But in the end, it will be your demise… I still have Whamuh here to fight you. Isn't that right?

She turned to the unmoving Pillar Man, who didn't even look her in the eye. His simply rested on Joaquín's as he softly spoke in his deep voice.. "Jojo refuses to fight. Having bested me once, I will respect his wishes accordingly, as any true warrior would. His grandson, on the other hand… he is very formidable, a true warrior worthy of challenging me. That is, if he believes himself so. Do you, Joaquín?"

"I do," answered Joaquín, whose glow had not ceased and Stand had faded away.

"Then so be it..!" Whamuh slowly rose to his feet and spoke loudly. "Where Lord Esidisi failed, I shall triumph..! I, Whamuh, shall do battle with you!"

No more words were wasted. The two ran after one another and halted mere inches from one another, where they exchanged fierce, lightning-fast blows. It was like a savage and powerful dance, punches weaving and kicks flying, their attacks never landing yet never ceasing. As perfect as they fought one another, one of them was going to slip up and end up hurt by the other. And Joaquín, whose punches blazed with hamon, hoped that Whamuh would be the one to leave himself open.

No sooner than he took a swipe at his face did his opportunity come. Whamuh had leaned back, leaving himself wide open from the neck down. This was his chance. With a battle cry escaping him, he brought his swiping hand back to deliver a palm strike to his chest. But rather than land it, the Pillar Man stretched himself backwards. Or rather, he disjointed his back and stretched to avoid the blow. It seemed like Esidisi wasn't the only one who could manipulate his body so freely.

But that didn't stop him from trying to get another hamon-laced blow to land on him. And another. And many more. Of course, all of them were dodged by his inhuman contortion. Nothing he was doing was working. He needed to think of something to strike him down before Whamuh could attack again. But what..?

Maybe… Maybe I could use the Zoom Punch, he figured. He hasn't seen that. But if I use it, I'll be left completely open… Unless I can hit him with just my arm… And then just wail on him… Would that work..?

He didn't want to wait to find out. With one last swipe of him arm, Whamuh predictably bent backwards to avoid him. He then focused and only dislocated his elbow joint, stretching his upper arm so his glowing lower arm managed to slam directly into his foe's face. Whamuh reeled back, not having expected anything to land. It had worked. Now was Joaquín's chance.

All of his hamon was focused solely on his arms and fists now. He would finish him with one last attack. And he knew just what to use. But he wasn't going to use that silly rhyme at all.

"Sunlight Yellow Overload," he roared, his fists flying with the same speed and strength of his own Stand, burning with light. They embedded themselves into immortal flesh, creating burning cracks against the Pillar Man's skin. When he thought he had enough, Joaquín let loose two fists directly towards his head, ready to defeat him.

However, he did not make contact. Whamuh had ducked his head the way a turtle would into its shell, avoiding the oncoming fists. Joaquín's brief opening was all Whamuh needed. He immediately thrust his arms out and contorted them, spinning them rapidly from the joints in opposing directions. Massive, howling tunnels of wind blew from his arms, which looked bigger and more imposing within them. He knew exactly what this was. Joseph had told him all about this dreaded technique.

He also knew that, being in its direct path, there was no escaping it.

"Fighting Art: Divine Sandstorm," roared Whamuh as loud as his wind.

In a split second, Preciosa emerged to shield himself. But it did little good. The wind generated by the Pillar Man was rapid, sharp, and powerful. Joaquín felt himself nearly crumpling in the vortex, his body opening with many razor-sharp cuts and his bones nearly breaking. The pain was mind numbing. He couldn't tell how badly he was being hurt or how long it was happening. But what he knew was that his grandfather was screaming in abject horror in the distance.

When the storm quelled, Joaquín landed a few feet away in a crumpled heap. He could barely move. It was as if every part of him was hit with a massive, fiery weight. Joaquín could just barely remember how his grandfather once described this technique as a 'microcosmic sandstorm". Did he have to go through this immense pain? He had to, given how even he couldn't dodge it.

"JOAQUÍN," shouted Joseph, clearer now that the wind had stopped. He ran over to his grandson and knelt down to pick up his upper body. "Oh god, are you okay?! Can you speak?!"

With a pained in his voice, he groaned, "My entire body hurts…" He slowly helped himself up, his legs shaking slightly and his body aching fiercely. "But… yeah… I should be good now…"

"Joaquín, you're nearly dead! Look at what that bastard did to you!" He didn't need to look. He knew his body was cut and bleeding, his hair a bigger mess than it was normally, and his shirt and jeans had been torn pretty badly. "We have to withdraw now! You can't fight him anymore!"

Joaquín chuckled and shook his head slowly. "He's a pretty good fight... One of the best guys I've ever fought… I've never had an opponent quite like him… He's… one of the best… I can see why you had a tough time against him, Abuelito..." Whamuh, whose entire body was also damaged and bleeding as well from the blows he had suffered, cracked an odd smile. He looked rather humbled. "Which is why… you're right…"

He then called out to him, "Hey, Whamuh! I'm… I'm done fighting you now… You win…"

"WHAT," screeched Martika, not expecting him to simply forfeit.

"Yeah, you heard me..!" He looked in her direction and smiled. "I give up… What… Were you expecting me to give some… rousing speech about how I'm not gonna give up and… keep fighting..? Normally, I would… but my whole body's in pain… and it's clear that we both did enough damage… If we keep on fighting, we're both gonna end up killing each other… That's why I'm quitting now… I'm done for the day…"

"BUT THAT'S THE POINT! THIS IS A FIGHT TO THE DEATH! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE IN THE END, WITH ME COMING OUT VICTORIOUS NO MATTER WHAT!"

"Joaquín has already admitted defeat," stated Whamuh, just as pained as his opponent and still not looking at her. "As a warrior, his decision to not continue fighting must be respected. I will not fight him. And you cannot force me to continue"

"YES I CAN!" She marched towards him, having lost all her composure. "I WANTED TO SEE HIM DIE! I WANTED HIS NAME IN NEPHTHYS TO SHOW DIO THAT I DID WHAT NONE OF THOSE OTHER IDIOTS COULD DO: KILL JOAQUÍN TREJO! YOU WILL NOT DENY ME THAT, YOU ASSHOLE! I HAVE THE BOOK! I CAN CONTROL YOU! AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO-"

And then, it happened, too quick for her to react. She had reached Whamuh, a foot or so behind him. And his eyes widened in shock. Without any warning, he swiftly kicked behind him like a bucking horse, his foot tearing through the ancient book and slamming straight into Martika's face. She was sent flying back into one of the walls, knocking her unconscious. Her book lay in two where she had dropped it. It was all so quick. Joaquín felt as it h had imagined it.

"W-What the fuck was that," he muttered in shock.

"Oh!" It was Joseph's turn to go wide-eyed, this time in recognition. "Of course! I just remembered! Whamuh hates it when someone steps in his shadow! It looks like that woman was right about the spirits keeping their quirks!"

"I can't believe something like that ended it… I was honestly trying to rile her up and sneak… a blow in to beat her… 'If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him.' I take it you thought the same, right..?"

"Of course. Glad to see we thought of the same thing." He and his grandson looked back at Whamuh. Without the book to sustain him, his body began to crumble to dust. But even as he faded, he was smiling proudly, which Joseph returned. "Fifty years, and you're still one tricky son of a bitch… If it had been a rematch between us, I would have already died."

"Again, a wise choice to not face me," acknowledged Whamuh. "You were always an intelligent warrior. Even now, in your old age, you still show just how sharp you can be. As does your grandson." He looked down at Joaquín now. "You knew exactly when to catch me off guard, as well as when to accept defeat. I praise you, Joaquín… Not many can contend with Whamuh the way you have."

"Hey, what can I say," he said with a smile. "I am my abuelito's grandson."

"That you are…" He was almost gone now. "Do not stop fighting, Joaquín… And Jojo… Whatever evil you seek to vanquish… I wish you both luck… May we meet again in another life… Farewell… Jojo… and… Jojo…" And then, the dust blew away, settling lazily on the remnants of the book he appeared from. The spirit of Whamuh was gone.

Joaquín approached the book and lifted up one half of it. Upon the exposed page were many small names, dates of birth and death beside them and beneath were how they died. Whamuh's entry showed he had lived from around 10,000 BC to 1939, and he was killed in a chariot race by Joseph Joestar. And turning the page back, he saw entry that tugged at his heart. A name he wished he could summon for his grandfather, were the book still whole.

Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli (1918-1939)
Crushed by a piece of stone ceiling after facing Whamuh.

He wanted to bring him back, even if he was a spirit. His grandfather undoubtedly would have wanted to make amends with his former friend. Despite knowing he would garner no results, he blew against the page of the book. A small cloud of dust flew off the page, but it did not swirl into the man who lost his life many years ago. Damn… It was worth a try, anyway…

"I can't believe that a Stand was imbued into that book," said Joseph in wonder. "I've never heard of anything like that…"

"Neither have I," muttered Joaquín, who set the book down. "Speaking of which… we have another battle to head off to… The Divine Anubis… Joutarou and Jean Pierre are fighting it right now… We gotta help them…"

As he started to leave, Joseph called out in worry. "Wait, Joaquín! You can't go like this, look at you!"

To which his grandson turned back to him, smirked and asked, "Has a bit of blood loss… and potentially broken bones… stopped you, Abuelito..?" He looked gravely at him before shaking his head, knowing it never did. "Of course not… If I was just going up against Whamuh… and not Martika… I wouldn't have given up… I would have kept fighting… Us Joestars are like that, right..?"

"Y-Yes… Just… please be careful… I'll go find the others."

He nodded and ran off as best as his bruised and breaking body would allow him. Everything was on fire as he moved, but he ignored the pain. The safety of his brother and friends were more important. He ran into the streets, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything that would suggest a fight was going on. And it didn't take too long, for in the distance, he heard an all to familiar cry.

"ORAORAORA!"

Joutarou..!

It had come from the next street over. He turned down one road and arrived onto the next, suddenly realizing where he had arrived. It was the same street where Jean Pierre had been getting a shave. The barber shop had its window broken. A fire hydrant had broken, and a tree lay cut apart. A nearby garage door had been slammed into by an unconscious uniformed man. Another man was laying prone on the street. Fighting one another right in the middle was Joutarou, Jean Pierre and their Stands.

And in Silver Chariot's free hand was the now broken blade of Anubis.

Both fists and blades were slamming into one another, trying to get an opening on one another to subdue them. But they were both fast, almost impossible to see in any other Stand user's eyes. And it might have been him, but he could have sworn Silver Chariot was swinging faster than normal.

"You idiot," hissed Jean Pierre under the influence of Anubis. "Your damn 'ora ora' can't keep up with two Stand master's dual-wielding fencing!" He then prepared to strike above Star Platinum, who instinctively blocked with both fists. He had left himself wide open, which the enemy took advantage of by driving the broken blade straight through his lower stomach. And subsequently, into Joutarou's.

"GOTCHA!"

"NO," screamed Joaquín before running up to the two. Jean Pierre's dead and cold eyes turned to him and smiled, which made him stop in hiss tracks. Joutarou meanwhile was clearly trying not to panic.

Not another step," he said giddily. "Your brother is finished! I, the Divine Anubis, have defeated Joutarou!" From behind Jean Pierre appeared the the ghostly visage of a topless man with a black jackal's head and a golden headdress. "I've won!"

"Y-You bastard," growled Joaquín wanting nothing more than to destroy the sword to pieces. All his pain was replaced with adrenaline and fury. His brother was facing death, literally, and there was nothing he could do. Not a single opening to save him could be seen. "I'm gonna make you pay for this…"

"I'd like to see you try…" He turned to Joutarou, who used Star Platinum to gingerly grip the sword and keep it from sinking into him further. The sight must have been pitiful, for he chuckled darkly. "You can neither pull it out or stop it. This bewitched sword… has already memorized the strength o your Star Platinum… And it will push the rest of itself into you!"

Try as he might, he couldn't stop the blade from sinking a bit further. With a cough of blood, he groaned, "You're p-pushing it in..?"

"Yes, that's right! It's going in! Lord Dio will rejoice!"

"S-Stop…" He looked the dog-headed Stand directly and spoke with his usual stoic demeanor, albeit pained. "I-If you don't stop pushing in… Then it'd be murder…"

"Stop?! I'll tear out and scatter your internal organs!" But just as he was about to end Joutarou, Star Platinum swiftly punched a piece of the blade. While a fragment was still in him, he was no longer at risk of being disemboweled. The Stand then began to break apart the rest of the sword into pieces, making Anubis panic and scream "W-What?! Y-You're breaking me! I'm shoved in you and yet you're steadily breaking me! I-I have to pull out! Please, stop!"

But his plead for mercy was met with a roar of "ORAORAORA!" and a barrage of sword-breaking punches. All that remained once Star Platinum finished was the handle of the sword. Both Anubis and Jean Pierre looked scared as the purple Stand brought a hand to his ear.

"Now then," said Joutarou, "what was that you said… about tearing my insides out..?" With the sword being knocked out of Silver Chariot's hand, Star Platinum crushed the handle into pieces. The spirit of Anubis exploded into thin air. With his defeat, his hold on Jean Pierre was relinquished, knocking him unconscious. "That's exactly right… Trying to push that in me… led to murder… It was easier to aim for it… when the sword stopped..."

He couldn't believe it. The fight was over before he could even interfere. Joaquín had to hand it to his brother for his cool thinking in the face of a bloody death. Tentatively, he asked his brother, "You… didn't plan for this, did you..?"

"Sure," said his brother with a hint of sarcasm. "I always plan ahead… That's how I beat him…"

He chuckled at his stoic parallel to what he himself told Esidisi. It was funny how they both can think alike at times, which made him like his brother all the better. His humor was quickly erased by mild panic when he saw Joutarou fall to his knee. The blade fragment had slipped out from his stomach, which he held onto shakily. "J-Joutarou..!" He knelt beside him. "We gotta head to a hospital..! You're not okay..!"

"N-Neither are you… You look like shit…"

"I feel like shit," he admitted, the pain slowly returning. "But never mind me..! You need medical attention the most..!"

"You're telling me…" Jotarou was speaking in between panting now. "That Stand… was much stronger… I had to muster up… my whole strength… into that last barrage… I'm just glad I beat it… before he could learn what I did… T-This is the first time… I've ever felt so… exhausted… Where's… Where's jijii..?"

"Probably finding Della and Mohamed… We beat another Stand user… She had a book that could summon warrior spirits… It was like the sword… A Stand was imbued into it…"

"How the hell-"

"I don't know," Joaquín interrupted, painfully helping his brother back to his feet. He then slung Joutarou's arm over his shoulder, holding him so that he doesn't fall. "But we'll get to a hospital… Come… Come…" The pain and fatigue was starting to get to him too. He could feel the pain pulsing and burning all over his body. Now it was his turn to take a knee, unable to walk. "M-Maldita sea madre… I-I can't move… S-Shit… This is bad…"

Just then, a groan came from Jean Pierre. The Frenchman held his head, perhaps aching from being controlled by the evil Stand. "Ooh… What happened to me," he moaned, right before his eyes widened and he immediately sat up. "T-That's right! The sword manipulated me!"

"Yeah, but it's over now," groaned Joutarou, just as weak as his older brother he was leaning on. "Listen, Polnareff, go find jijii… We're too tired to walk…"

Joaquín nodded in agreement. Without the adrenaline and rage to fuel him, he could barely move at all. Some parts of his body were too painful for him to even describe. He was certain that the Divine Sandstorm had broken a handful of his bones, something nobody else had managed to do. I don't know how easily a Stand's regenerating properties can fix them, he lamented. I'm probably gonna have to stay a while in a hospital… Fuck… We really didn't need this…

As he watched Jean Pierre start to walk off, he heard something from behind. It was a boy, who was curious about something shiny. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then, he heard the boy growl in a rather murderous tone. "I learned it…"

Joutarou heard it too. Slowly looking behind them, they could see a young boy with a turban and a ragged cloak over his shoulders with a deadly expression on his face. He was holding a piece of metal in his hands, sharp and tipped like a blade. It was the very tip of the sword, the piece undoubtedly broken in the scuffle before Joaquín arrived. The visage of Anubis appeared over the kid, his yellow eyes glowed vengefully as he continued to speak.

"I, the Divine Anubis, was once the Stand of a swordsmith who crafted this blade five hundred years ago… Only I remain alive… I am a Stand without a master… It was Lord Dio who took me from the darkness of the museum's warehouse… And… It is because of the unholy strength of Lord Dio's Stand that I swore allegiance to him… His Stand… The World…"

This was the first time he had heard anyone explicitly name Dio's Stand. I was right… It is The World… But… his power…

"Joestars… you… will…" The boy lifted the blade over his head, as if ready to throw it. "… absolutely die..! I know your strength..! I know your fastest speed..! You both have the same kind of Stands… Neither Star Platinum or that Preciosa can stop me… NOW GO TO HELL!"

Under normal circumstances, Joaquín would have been worried. Neither he and Joutarou could dodge him, having exhausted all their energy in battle. And using their Stands would have been risky. But in this particular moment, he wasn't. Their enemy would end up missing. The reason was actually quite humorous. The boy had apparently dropped a lollipop right at his feet. And running straight after him, completely out of nowhere, was the ever-mischievous and pilfering Iggy.

As soon as the blade was about to be thrown, the Boston terrier snatched up the lollipop and tripped the boy. He let go, and the blade spun directly over their heads and straight towards the Nile. Jean Pierre barely noticed it when he looked back and saw Iggy.

"Oh, there you are," he said, his nose crinkling when he noticed the lollipop. "Ugh! What is that? Candy? You didn't just pick it off the ground, did you? Disgusting little mutt…"

"Well, that was climactic," muttered Joaquín sarcastically. He watched as the blade phased through a wall, flew towards a ship passing along the river, and lodged itself into the rump of a cow. It certainly didn't like having been stabbed, because it started going wild and thrashing all over the place. And in its crazed state, it tipped the ship over and fell out, the blade falling in with it.

"Hey, look," Jean Pierre pointed out to the chaos in the distance. "That cow's gone mad!"

"Yare yare," moaned Joutarou in annoyance. "Who cares about that cow… Just get the others… so we can be treated…"

"Joutarou's right," agreed Joaquín tiredly. He started to feel dizzy now. "Hurry up and… and find… Oh… fuck…"

The pain and blood-loss finally caught up to him. What little strength he had left escaped him, making him keel over in exhaustion. He heard Joutarou and Jean Pierre cry out his name in fear. As unconsciousness took hold of him, Joaquín could only think about what an incredible fight he had today.

I definitely wanna do something like this again…

After I recover, of course…

~MARTIKA: RETIRED~

~GODDESS NEPHTHYS (c. 1489-1989): RIP~

~DIVINE ANUBIS: RETIRED~

STAND TIME

STAND USER: Martika (マルティカ)

STAND: Goddess Nephthys (ネフティス女神)

POWER: E, SPEED: E, RANGE: A, DURABILITY: D, PRECISION: E, POTENTIAL: E

Like it's counterpart Anubis, Nephthys is a Stand without a master imbued into an ancient book. Within its pages are the names of past warriors, their birth and death dates, and the cause of their death. So long as they have been in one fight, once someone dies, their name is automatically written into it. The book continuously grows with each name added. The fighting spirit of these warriors can be summoned to do battle for the wielder of the book by blowing upon their name. Each one inherits their namesake's personality, strengths, weaknesses, and their own quirks. While they are driven to fight, they are not under control of the summoner. They can refuse to fight under certain circumstances, such as their opponent not wishing to fight or if they feel they have been bested. Taking enough damage returns them to dust and back to the book. There is no limit to how many warriors can be summoned. Only by destroying the book can it be defeated and be rendered unusable.

I loved bringing back the Pillar Men for this fight. And all the callbacks. Oh, and if anyone asks, the reason I didn't add Kahz was because he he is still alive out there in space. Technically, he's already brain-dead at this point, but bringing back only his mind just wouldn't make sense to bring him back. I was also debating on how to end the battle. No matter what, Whamuh was gonna kick the shit out of Martika, but what would happen to the book was another story. I would have left in intact, and the Joestar group using it to bring back several spirits to talk to, but... I went against it. It felt like it would have been too much. Anyway, look forward to the next installment. I'm probably gonna make it a bit of a breather chapter.