Dio's pace sharpened with every step. Pucci could barely keep up. The head was held eloquently by The World, though Dio kept turning to it every few steps. Making sure he wouldn't drop such a valuable piece of history. That's going to be revived.

Pucci made sure to keep all the notes he'd made together and any books Dio had given him from the library that could help. Would help.

"It's Just around the corner. I thought it better to continue in a room out of the way rather than messing up the dining room." Pucci struggled behind the books and paperwork in his arms.

"Perfect."

They turned the corner.

The door to the echoing chamber lay eerily still and fully open. Letting the horrors on show for anyone to see. Body parts of all shapes and sizes littered every part of the otherwise spacious room. Ripped, ragged skin. Loose tendons and nerve ends. Severed hands, legs, feet, toes, fingers, shoulders, knees. It was all here.

It also reeked of vile decaying cells and de-oxygenated blood. It covered most limbs, certainly the floor, and even some walls.

And Vanilla Ice was standing right in the middle of it. His perturbed face only encouraged a growing rage in Dio.

"What are you doing?" Dio's words echoed the chamber as he entered. Not a twinge of fear seeped through his determined words.

"I wanted to know what was happening my lord."

"This is none of your concern. Now get out."

"My lord-"

"Get out!"

Vanilla Ice stumbled through bloody mess and walked around the door.

"Make sure you clean yourself. I don't want to find blood stains everywhere."

Pucci could only shiver as he placed the books and various papers on the desk at the end of the room. Dio had never been so determined. So scary to Pucci before. Of course, Pucci knew Dio wasn't one to easily get angered and yet it scared him so. Was it the unchanging, stale stoic face? Or the firmness in his words? Pucci knew to tread the ground carefully. A delicate balance, otherwise Dio would snap.

"What is that?" Dio's firm tone continued. He pointed to the operating table. The grand centre piece.

"I took the liberty to begin assembly my lord. Only the more challenging bits like the heart and lungs. I thought-"

"Pucci I can handle more than just basic stitches, I'm sure of it. Or do you not trust in my abilities?"

"I do trust your supreme abilities. I just didn't want you give up so easily. Having starting with the hardest parts."

"In future only help with my express permission. I can handle the rest for now. I shall call upon you when needed."

Pucci left without another word spoken. It was clear Dio withheld his rage. His fixed eyes, widened eyes. Was it anger? or Determination? Whatever it was, Pucci was somewhat glad to not experience it further. He went to clean himself, heavy breathing alongside a quickening pace. Was this fear? Had he really come to fear Dio? Had his reality been grounded? Even he wasn't safe from Dio's wrath?

Dio grasped the heart and lungs and placed them with ease on the table nearby. The torso was first. He scavenged the littered corner of torsos. Finally, a reasonable build. He placed it on the operating table. And inserted the heart and lungs through the wide cut already present.

Dio's fire grew. He questioned what it was sporadically. When his mind would free him from obsession.

He rolled up his sleeves and waded through the lake of blood on the floor to find a hand, a foot and even a leg. All soaked in blood but in workable conditions.

Obsession. Late into the night and all through the next few days.

The sunlight couldn't reach his corner of the world. The room had no windows. Only an electric light that was slightly cracked and a flickering bulb hung precariously above his endless stitches and notes. His notes littered the floor. He'd ended up cleaning it. The stench and the stains had grown on his nerves.

And for all this time, his stand waited patiently outside with the head. He sat on a nearby chair. He examined the head numerous times. Even tempted to take it out of its housing. But the insanity he sensed from his user shook his core to dare not do anything that would even spark the smallest of negative reactions.

Night fell once more.

The door flung open. And he wasn't even half way there.

Dio turned back to the creation on the table. Two arms, a torso with a working heart, lungs and other organs had been joined against nature's will. All from different bodies. All varying in age, but all in the best quality he could find.

Dio turned back to his stand.

"You might as well leave, return JoJo to his place and entertain yourself or whatever." Dio left the door open as he continued to work. Letting pure moonlight's relief bathe his workspace.

The demand plucked The World from his daydream. He carried the head with caution. He tightened his grip as he hovered around. Opening doors. Traversing stairs and corridors. The room was just around the corner. Or the next corner? The World hovered for a while. Where was it? How did he forget? Maybe he was just channelling Dio's tiredness?

He turned the next corner. Up some stairs? Or in this room?

He sat with the head in his lap as he read. The library embraced all who walked through those doors. Maybe the way there would come back to him? But sleep took a hold as it drifted over him and his user.

Dio woke in his coffin the next night. The lid came flying off as he bolted upright.

And stormed back down to the room.

He hadn't even noticed the head was missing.

The door of the room almost flew off its hinges as he opened it. It swung silently as Dio observed the sight before him. A clean room, almost immaculate, with the rest of the body finished. It only needed connecting to the torso.

The papers and books all organised and neatly stacked on nearby tables and chairs. Blood was nowhere to be seen. All the tools neatly placed in a box besides the almost pristine body.

Dio slammed the door shut and began work once more.

His stand only shivered.

Pucci shivered further as he knocked on the door.

"My lord, are you ready for the head yet?"

It opened slowly.

"I need to warn you that when I tried the machine, we're going to use, it had quite a few malfunctions. I can't guarantee-"

But Dio's face never responded to his words. He silently shut the door on them after taking the head from The World's arms.

Obsession had taken a hold. Obsession had dragged him quite far below the surface. Obsession had taken his whirring mind back to the day on the boat. On replay. Obsession had almost claimed it's prize.

And the last stitch was sewn.

And the last stitch, for the corpse's tender body, was sewn