Warning. The following fic contains spoilers for season one of Young Justice, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure parts 1-7, and JJBA: Eyes of Heaven. Read at your own discretion.

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Y'all still here?

I would like to that you for stumbling upon my humble fic. This piece of work has been bubbling in my head for some time now, and only recently have I started to write. I hope you enjoy this piece of fanfiction that I have created, but before we continue, I would like to pay tribute to two very important people. The Man Comes Around takes inspiration from not only JJBA and YJ, but also Beowulf Gudbrytare and Free Man Writer. These two authors on this very site have graciously allowed me to borrow parts from their own stories (Divine Deeds Done Dirt Cheap and Noble Justice, respectively) so that this work may come to fruition. I am eternally thankful, and, frankly, this work would not exist without their permission.

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Well, that got sentimental, huh?

Alright, now down to the nitty-gritty.

All referenced materials, characters, content, and creations belong to their respective owners and publishers. I do not own JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, Young Justice, or any other titles that appear in this work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended, including the title usage of The Man Comes Around, which is a song by Johnny Cash.

[A]

The Man Comes Around – Chapter 1: Spirit in the Sky

The two conjoined hotel room balconies created a large space, if you ignored the railing in between them, as it provided a wide view of downtown Los Angeles for the seven high schoolers. They were in town for the CIF Finalist Water Polo tournament, as they had come all the way from San Francisco to compete for their high school. While not the entirety of the team, the friend group had been playing together since freshman year, and they were lucky to get hotel rooms with aligned balconies so they could all stew in their nervousness for tomorrow's game. The friend group consisted mostly of juniors who were guaranteed a spot on the varsity team, as well as two sophomores who had managed to outperform their fellow underclassman to compete on varsity. While they were sometimes ribbed about their juniority, they often more than made up for it in practice.

One of the juniors, Creed Cassidy, sat casually in one of the balcony chairs with his roommates as they faced the other three in the conjoined balcony. If one were to look at Creedence "Creed" Cassidy, one of the first observations that one would make was that the seventeen-year-old was pretty normal for a guy his age. He was slightly on the taller side of your average junior, standing at 6'1", and had pitch-black hair slicked backward with slightly tan skin, which was a result of both the many hours spent in the pool and his quarter-Chilean heritage. Of course, the next thing one would notice about him was his name. When he had asked his mom, she had said that Creed, or Creedence, represented strength in what you believe in. That sounded cool to seven-year-old Creed, but when he asked his dad, his father admitted that he was named after a rock band from the 60s, which Creed would only later come to appreciate as he started listening to music.

He sat with his teammates as they made easy banter as the night marched on; whether talking about school, sports, or the upcoming game. "Man, I'm telling you. When we went against Downtown, I had to shadow the one girl on the team. On God, she bit and scratched. And when we went on D, she straight up dipped, man. I couldn't even find her," Leo, Creed's classmate and friend, shook his head. "It's crazy how our nails got checked, but she had a solid three inches on her fingers."

The sophomore next to him chuckled. "Dude, you're just mad you got dunked on."

Leo started to protest as the other polo players broke into laughter.

Adam, a junior sitting next to Creed, yawned. "Dude, we should cash in soon. We meet at the tourney at what, seven?"

Grant, a burly junior with a man-bun rolled his eyes. "Relax. We should enjoy tonight. Plus, I brought the good stuff." He reached down into a backpack and pulled out two six-packs of soda. Several muted grunts of thanks and excitement were expressed as the carbonated drinks were passed around. Suddenly, a blinding white light illuminated the hotel balcony and surrounding buildings. After a few seconds, a force wave rocked the balcony where they sat as a globe of fire rose in downtown L.A. All Creed could get out was "What the f-" before his view was enveloped in an orange glow. He felt an icy burn all over his body and then knew no more.

"Oh, God." Creed groaned as he woke up. He rubbed his face, for some reason feeling strange. Opening his eyes, he was not greeted with the familiar sight of the hotel balcony. As he looked around, all he could see was… nothing. It could be best described as a void that went on forever. It wasn't just pitch black, however, as the dark of night was accompanied by an endless number of stars and constellations. The space beneath him could be described as more of a gradient gray that blended with the starry night at what looked like a vague horizon.

"What the fuck - where the hell am I?" Creed muttered out loud as he looked around. He fully stood up and pinched himself, making sure it wasn't a dream. The flaring of his nerves confirmed a steadily growing pit in his stomach. Closing his eyes, he massaged his forehead.

Turning around again, Creed was surprised to see a simple full-length mirror resting on a wooden prop that wasn't there before. Carefully walking over, he looked in the mirror and saw his usual self – a swimmer's frame with well-defined but not perfect muscles, slicked back black hair complimented by short, clean sideburns, and dark blue eyes that swam as an ocean around his pupils.

"Creed Cassidy, you have died." A rich male voice echoed across the void, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Creed whipped his head around as he looked for the source, searching for the origin but still seeing nothing. "Who said that?"

"My condolences for your loss of life." The voice said, not acknowledging Creed.

"Where are you? Show yourself!" Creed demanded, looking around for the speaker. He checked behind the mirror, not seeing anything.

"I am here, I am there, I am now, and was and will be then. But do not concern yourself with who I am. Please observe the mirror."

"Gee thanks, Socrates." Narrowing his eyes while turning his attention to the mirror, he saw the reflection change with a ripple starting in the middle and growing to the edges, like throwing a rock in a pond. The ripple cleared, and he was now watching what he assumed was outer space. A pinging noise got louder and louder, and a piece of machinery that looked like a satellite drifted into view. The camera rotated so the satellite was still in the picture but now had the backdrop of Earth.

Creed watched the satellite start to shift, and pieces of the machine started to pull away. The bottom of it opened, and a round, cone-like shape was visible. With a thoomp, the cone ejected from the satellite, revealing a large, cylinder-shaped body with a bio-hazard symbol in the center, and tailfins at the end. Creed watched the revealed rocket drift toward earth, and then right itself as it picked up speed. With a sinking feeling, he realized what he was watching.

The camera stayed focused on the bomb as the satellite drifted out of the mirror frame, and the bomb disappeared out of sight. A couple of seconds later, an orange circle of light appeared in Southern California. It got bigger and bigger, covering where Los Angeles would be, as well as surrounding towns.

"Jesus fuck," Creed muttered as he watched the mirror. He looked away back towards the void. "So, we got nuked?"

"Again, my condolences. Humanity chose to become its own worst enemy." The voice echoed through the void, taking on a sympathetic tone.

"Fucking hell. Would you mind telling me where the hell I am?"

"You are in Limbo."

"Fucking Limbo," Creed breathed. He rubbed his face, "Holy fucking shit." He ran his hand through his hair and remembered something. "What about the others? You know, Adam, Leo, Grant."

"They have been sent to their respective afterlives."

Creed rolled his shoulders and took a shaky breath "So what, do I just, I don't know, wander the endless void for eternity?"

The voice responded, "While that would normally happen, I am willing to give you a second chance in the mortal plane."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? That doesn't sound too bad."

"For that to happen, you will receive my Heart and Rib Cage."

"Wait, what?"

Creed keeled over as a pinching feeling spread across his chest. It felt like the left side of his abdomen was being cooked under a jet engine, like he was being flayed alive. He gasped and fell to the floor, flailing under the immense pain. While he seized, hallucinations danced across his vision.

A man with long blond hair and a pink overcoat stood over a table. Before him, napkins were arranged in a circle.

"The way of the universe is determined by those who take the first napkin."

An aura was materializing behind him, bearing tones of blue and pink.

"As President, it is my duty to bring the people to the path of righteousness! I will take the lead, as it is destiny!"

The man reached for the napkin on his left, unfolding it. It expanded and changed color, turning into an American Flag with a circle of stars in the corner.

"Power! Glory! Happiness! Culture! Law! Money! Food! The hearts of the people! I have taken the first napkin!"

The form behind him developed, revealing a tall humanoid with pink and blue skin, divided by pink stitching. Two large horns protruded upwards from its head.

"With the power of my Stand, I set the bar! I take the napkin and lead the American race forward to victory!"

The blue figure lunged through the man, grasping the flag. It was wrapped around him, and both the flag and the man blinked out of existence.

"…As my heart and actions are utterly unclouded! They are all those of Justice!"

The man fell through an endless void, surrounded by equally endless universes.

"D4C!"

Creed slumped on his back, coughing up bile. Standing up, he wiped his mouth. Fucking. Hell. Foreign memories coursed through his head. His company dying in the Devil's Palm. Obtaining the Heart and Rib Cage. The Steel Ball Run. Johnny Joestar. The memories of the biggest American bastard – Funny Valentine, the 23rd President of the United States. These memories flowed through him like a river, as if they were his now. But one memory stood out from the others – a man dressed in a simple white robe. His face was hidden in shadow, and he had long, brown hair topped with a crown of thorns.

He looked around into the abyss. "You're the Saint, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." The voice no longer came from everywhere – instead, it was directly behind him.

Creed slowly turned around and standing there not ten feet away, was a man. With his hands behind his back, he wore a simple white robe, with long, brown hair, and a crown of thorns. Though his upper face was hidden in shadow, he wore a knowing smile.

Realizing what had just happened, Creed's heart leaped into his throat as he started frantically backpedaling, "Holy Sh- uh, I apologize for the bad language. I, uh, didn't mean all of that… just, you know, shock?" Holy Shit. He just mouthed off to The Saint! Like, Jesus Christ, The Saint! If that didn't send him to hell, he wouldn't know what would! Creed started to hyperventilate as different torture scenarios in a certain fiery pit played out in his mind.

The Saint's voice took on a tone of amusement, "I take no offense." Creed took a deep breath as he felt a sudden calm wash over him as if stilled by The Saint himself. The robed figure grew slightly more serious, "Do realize what you embody?"

Creed looked down at his chest, where a small glow was fading through his shirt. After what had just happened, especially with having another set of memories in his head, Creed could only draw one conclusion. Though being a water polo player gave him good stamina and strength (plenty of grudging thanks to his coaches), he felt a world's difference that could only be given by a very specific boon, one which was highlighted by Valentine's memories. "You gave me your Heart and Rib Cage – the same as Funny Valentine."

The Saint nodded. "Indeed. You bear witness to his victories as well as follies." He gave a sad smile, "While he was ambitious, he would do anything to achieve his goals, even at the expense of others. And his Stand allowed for it; infinite lives, infinite attempts, and an infinite number of chances to eliminate his enemies."

Creed tried to catch up as gears started to turn in his head, "Infinite chances… wait. I got his memories. Does that mean…" Creed scanned through Valentine's memories, drawing on a figure that was Valentine's most valuable asset. Not the power or influence of the American government, or the countless Stand users he had employed, but something that was literally a part of him.

Creed mentally reached out, and he could feel a tugging in his gut, like a muscle that was itching to be pulled taught. He pulled, and a blue and pink humanoid sprung forth from Creed. It was the same figure from the vision; a light blue body with pink highlights. Heart-shaped seams ran up and down the Stand, and it had two large horns on its head pointing directly up. D4C turned to face him, regarding him with emotionless, pink eyes. Testing his theory, Creed mentally told it to walk a bit to the left, and it did. He mentally told it to hold out its hand and flex the bicep, and it did. With the memories of Funny Valentine highlighting his exploits of this Stand, Creed realized what he now had at his disposal, and did a little dance. "Fuck! Yes!" He froze when he realized what he said, his eyes flickering to the figure standing before him. "Uh, pardon my French."

The Saint continued, ignoring his apology. "You now have my Heart and Rib Cage, as well as D4C. The sins of Valentine's past weigh heavily upon this Stand. I hope that in time, your deeds will atone for his actions. The Stand itself has limitless possibility, which I believe that you will use to the best of your ability."

Creed nodded, his mind still trying to process the fact that he now had D4C at his command, imagining all the shit he could get away with. Creed dissolved D4C, "Of course… your Holiness." He cringed. He wasn't the best at formalities. "What happens now?"

The Saint responded, "Now, you go forth in my name. Walk the earth as a beacon of both hope and strength. I will let you know what you must do, but I offer you a warning. The world in which you walk will not be your own; it is an infinite's distance away, with an equal number of similarities and differences. Take heed, Creed, for you will face conflict every step of the way."

Creed straightened his back and swallowed. "I understand."

The Saint held up his hand, "Before you go, I give you one final gift. The Eye of God."

Creed felt a searing feeling on the inside of his left forearm. Grunting and looking down, he saw that he now had a tattoo of a black cross interlaced with an intricate thorn vine. It was on the inside of his left forearm, right below his wrist. Feeling a pulling sensation, he summoned a beautiful revolver into his left hand. It was black with white trimmings running down the thick barrel, and a crown of thorns wrapping around the far end of the barrel. Creed found it funny that he was getting a gun; during Valentine's escapades, as even though only one version of him could possess D4C, all his other alternates seemed to sport a firearm of some sort.

"With just a thought, you can bring the gun to your hand. As long as you bear that tattoo, you bear the gun as well. It emulates my power, and if you aim true, it will inflict damage upon the target. It can create ammunition on its own, but you must reload."

Creed let out a whistle as he inspected the gun, admiring the craftsmanship. He paused as his brain just caught up with what The Saint just said. "Uh, magical gun, got it," Creed hesitated, "Do you want me to, you know, off people with this? That kind of seems against 'love thy neighbor'."

The Saint chuckled at the quote. "You misunderstand. The Eye of God is merely a tool to assist you, not a requirement. How you use it is up to your discretion, and I believe that you will find it incredibly helpful."

Creed nodded to himself and gave two thumbs up, the gun disappearing from his hand. "What happens now?" The Saint gave a wan smile at Creed's impatience. "All will be revealed in time, including your objective." A doorway of light opened off to his right, contrasting with the starry night. "I have faith in you, Creed Cassidy."

He nodded, taking one last look around the starry void. Coming to a decision, he walked through the doorway into the great beyond.

Creed woke up covered in a pile of leaves. Sitting up, he spat out branches as he looked around. He was in a park of some sort, with some people walking around. He got up, brushed himself off, and walked toward a statue in the center of the park. He walked around and read the plaque and was confused as much as one could be, his voice taking on an incredulous tone. "Fucking… Gotham? What kind of name is that?"

[A]

Sorry for the short chapter. It gets longer, I promise.

Some of y'all might not know what a Stand is. In a nutshell, it's the physical manifestation of one's soul and fighting spirit. In the JJBA universe(s), they come in wide variations, basically bestowing the user with very caveated superpowers. And Creed just got one of the most cracked Stands out there. Teleportation, Cloning, and Soul Transference can make for some very interesting combats. And it's a shame how little D4C is seen in fanfiction because it can create so many unique situations, as the user only has the freaking multiverse at their disposal.

With The Eye of God, I took a very big page out of Beo's work as well. Especially in SBR, Valentine used a plethora of firearms to make up for D4C's range. And now, Creed has a gun given by the Saint himself to continue that tradition.

I really gotta say, I'm looking forward to this fic. Unlike Soldiers of Fortune, I actually have a good idea where this is going.

As always, let me know what you think. I apricate feedback, so if you have any questions, ask away!

Also, long AN. Gonna try to keep them shorter.

Onwards and Upwards,

CFS

Update 15/1/23: Revised copyright disclaimer and opening and closing AN's. I originally said that D4C has strength on par with Star Platinum and King Crimson, since they all have A-class strength, but that's not very fair comparison as Star Platinum's greatest feat is throwing an intact building. It's probably a lot closer to King Crimson in regards to strength, but as made very clear by both the manga and Araki, D4C has incredibly untapped potential that could go a lot of different ways.