Author's note:

So, it looks like this one will be three chapters and then an epilogue and then we're done! Thanks for sticking with it for so long, all you lovely readers! Maybe once this finale is done, I'll be able to think about working on other projects...

Anyway, enjoy the JoJo shenanigans to ensue!

Belladonna Chapter 2: White Wedding

The kids huddled around the screen, silence hung in the air heavy and thick with tension. Bella knew. It was happening. Actually happening. Any lingering hope that Red could correct the course was gone, dispelled in a single question.

"Diamanti, that fuckin' rat!" Dew snarled, slamming his fist into his palm. "If I wasn't gonna rip him apart before!"

"So, uh, what's our plan here?" San inquired, turning to Syx. "How're we gonna… y'know, beat Red Nightmare?"

"Bella knows we're coming now," said Setty, arms folded across her chest. "Our only advantage is that he doesn't know who's on the team. Maybe we could play off of that?"

Syx didn't respond, instead turning to Arby. "You get all that?"

Arby nodded, smirking. "Quite the handy info-dump. The factoids have been verified and added."

"Good, get your Stand ready," he said, turning to the assembled kids. "Alright. Here's our Plan A. Setty, Dew, and I are the muscle. We'll handle the direct stuff. There's no way to surgarcoat this, but no one else in this orphanage will last a second in a fist fight against Red."

"As opposed to us," scoffed Setty. "We'll last five seconds!"

"Then we'll make those seconds count," said Syx, grimly, jabbing a thumb at Arby. "Arby will be able to slow him down at least, maybe even hold him still long enough for us to get some proper licks in. On top of that, I can weigh him down, knock him around, that kind of thing. Setty, Dew, the damage will have to come from you. Don't get fancy, just dog-pile him when you see an opening and pour on the damage."

Dew grinned and punched his palm. "You're speakin' my language!"

"What about me?" Asked San. "What do you want me to do?"

"Keep your distance and keep Red in your sights," said Syx, framing her with his fingers. "Just do what you can to trip him up. Improvise."

San nodded and saluted. "Gotcha!"

"And w-what about m-me?" Patty inquired, nervously.

Syx smirked and set a hand on her shoulder, causing her ears to blush bright red. "You're Plan B."

Belladonna glared at the Sinner standing before her, looming, towering. All this time… it was him.

The boy.

The malign creature that crawled from the filth of a petty criminal and ruined her life.

The devil.

She had been born to a police family in Naples in 1931, her father had been the sheriff of the city during the reign of Il Duce and would often speak fondly of those days, when they were given leave to crush the scum of Italy beneath a jackboot. Mafiosos, degenerates, indigents and parasites, all the filth coddled and enabled by the sentimental bygone regime were routed and dispersed. Even as a child, she knew her destiny, to follow her family legacy and uphold the law. As a woman, her options as an officer were limited, and not to her tastes, either. Collecting society's garbage was a necessary and honorable task, but lacked the sense of satisfaction she craved. No, she would become a part of the penal system. Part of the magnanimous mechanism by which scum of Italy were processed into something potentially useful, like a sculptor taking riverbed muck and shaping it into beautiful pottery. Under her diligent tutelage, the filth of the streets would become model citizens or, at the very least, be taught their place with immense thoroughness.

Her first posting as warden of Isola Piana's women's penitentiary had been a momentous turning point in her career. While it had been based off the coast of quaint, inconsequential Sardinia, far away from anywhere important, the island fortress-turned-prison was one of five women's only prisons in all of Italy! With this auspicious title to her name, her tenure there would only mean advancement, potentially even a foot in the door into politics! All of her life had been building to this moment.

Then, it was born.

Impossibly, one of her wards, an indigent petty criminal serving a ten year sentence, got pregnant. No, she didn't get pregnant. She became pregnant. Two years into her sentence she became pregnant quite literally overnight. Two years without so much as seeing a man, two years showing no sign of being with child, and then, before their very eyes, she became nine months pregnant, giving birth the following morning. The infant was… different. Wrong. It had not so much been born as it had exited its mother. Practically crawling out of her on its own, the baby did not cry, did not scream, the trauma of birth sliding off its back like the grimy sheets of afterbirth. The infant sat up and looked around, eyes open, irises almost imperceptibly flickering between fuchsia and jade. All in attendance, the guards, the medics, the nuns, even herself, recoiled when they felt the creature's gaze slither over them. Some would cross themselves and whisper psalms and verses against evil, others would whisper about how this could have come about and what to do.

It was a moment before the head nun stepped forward and swaddled the eerie creature in white linens, the filth from its body staining the fabric, and took it to the basin to wash it. Once the thing was clean and dry, the nuns and nurse took it away. Bella could remember clearly as though it happened that morning, as it was being taken away, the infant craned its head back and locked gazes with her, its eyes flashing a bright and terrible green.

She lost everything.

The sheer strangeness of the event meant word spread like wildfire. Normally, such things were easily swept under the rug, but not this one. Allegations ensued, recriminations and accusations of providing access to the women for money. She had made too many enemies among her peers, and what few friends she had in high places could not help her. She was dishonorably discharged, her reputation in bloody tatters, even her proud family shunned her for her dishonor. Nothing remained of her ambitions but embers. All because of that thing.

Disgraced, she wandered Sardinia looking for odd-jobs while avoiding major cities where she might have been recognized. One day, she saw an advertisement for nanny-work from the local priest. The pay was generous and the child was, allegedly, sweet natured and mild. She took the job and met Priest Naso, exchanged pleasantries, and then she was introduced… to him.

The boy.

The curse.

The devil.

The town she was in was the hometown of that same miscreant woman, the nuns at the prison must have arranged for the devil to be sent back here, to his mother's community. She hadn't made the connection upon entering the village, hadn't even considered the Beast would be waiting there for her. Fate had delivered her to this place, to this moment, to head this evil off at the pass before it could grow and blight the world as it had her. But, not before she got her revenge.

The Beast now stood before her, a being of immense power and brutality, his regalia that of Demon Royalty. She had been right all along. He was one of them! He'd always been one of them! She was right!

And now, he was hers.

"So," she said after a while. "Quite the pickle you've landed yourself in, eh, Diavolo?"

"It's Red Nightmare, now," he snarled, quietly.

"It's whatever I say it is, cur," she sneered. "Oh, if you thought you hated me before!"

"Ahem!" Diamanti cleared his throat. "Lady Belladonna? The children? This 'arrow'?"

"Oh, yes, right," she said, turning back to Red. "Of the vermin you've corrupted, which ones are you closest to? Who are your favorite little minions?"

He paused, his sneer tightening into a grimace. "…Setty and Syx. They were the first ones I blessed."

"Blessed! Hah!" Belladonna scoffed, eye glinting at the impotent rage on the Devil's face. "More like doomed." She depressed the intercom button, her voice booming from the speakers all over the 'Donna. "Setty, Syx, report to my office for debriefing, please."

Red glared at her, his eyes glowing as he tried to hate her to death, his broad frame sizzling with Pact energy.

How delightful.

"Now, unless you want me to drum up my contacts with the Goetia~" she said, sing-song. "You'll gut those vermin the second they step through the door."

Red said nothing, his expression serene below a baleful glare.

"Oh ho ho ho ho!" Diamanti chortled, clapping in delight. "Is that reluctance I see? Ha! Big bad Red Nightmare doesn't want to hurt his pwecious widdle wingscrap–"

Red said nothing, his expression still calm, unbothered, as his treetrunk arm swung, his bare cantaloupe-sized fist smashing down atop the Shop Head's spheroid skull. Diamanti grunted black blood from his mouth, nose, and ears as his dome crumpled before being driven into his shoulders with a wet metallic crunch, his eyes popping from their sockets on oily black geysers, his three-lens eye rolling across the floor. The clockwork demon's upper body collapsed into his lower body for a moment before bursting open in a squall of black, greasy gore, splattering the walls and floor.

"Tch." Belladonna watched as his crude-oil blood seeped into her custom-made rug. "You're paying for the drycleaning. Also, you'll need to organize a replacement while he pulls himself back together."

Red flicked the filth from his fist. "The fact I was able to do it at all shows just how useless the fool is. One less paycheck."

"You have a point," she said, smirking. "Not that it matters. Once I have the Arrow, I'll be taking this pig-sty in a whole new direction! I give you this much credit, Red, you had the right idea. We might even make something out of these worthless animals yet!"

"Counting your chickens before they hatch, aren't you?" Red sneered. "These kids may surprise you."

Bella narrowed her eyes. What was it Red had said? Some Stands can rival the power of the Archangels? Had he created such a thing? She dismissed the idea immediately, no leader would deliberately create a more powerful subordinate, least of all from these chattel. Perhaps he surmised that these brats together could best him and get to her? Again, why cultivate a force among your subordinates specifically to defeat you? That would only embolden them to overthrow you!

"A bluff, Red? Really?" Belladonna sneered. "At this juncture?"

A crisp, sharp knock sounded at the door, its clipped cadence immediately recognisable: Syx. That her Golden Boy had turned against her sent a fresh pang of anger and outrage through her. Before Red came along, the idea of taking a ringscraper on as Staff would have been preposterous… but when the time came to kick the blind mute out, Bella would be lying if she said she wouldn't have considered it. Syx was her ideal hellborn personified; diligent, loyal, competent, and taciturn. Most importantly, he knew his place. How unfortunate he had betrayed her for that Beast, that Devil, and forced her hand. Part of her mused that perhaps she could manufacture another Syx from one of the younger whelps, giving them time to adapt and thrive as he had. That would have to come later.

"Come in~" Belladonna trilled, grinning at Red, his arms stiff at his side, hands balled into trembling fists. "Let's all have a little chat."

Red stood at attention, his heart pounding as his capos entered the room. Had they understood his request before? Had they assembled a team? Did they fully appreciate the scope of his abilities and factored them in? So many questions, so many variables to account for. He could feel the Deal crackling through his body, preparing to intervene should they move against her. He wouldn't be able to stop it, and once combat commenced, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back. He'd put his fate, all their fates, in the hands of these two children. They had his trust to do their best, but would their best be enough?

Only time would tell.

"You rang, Boss Lady?" Setty said, an acid edge to her words.

"Speak when spoken to, harlot!" Belladonna snapped. "But yes, I did. You see, a few new things have come to light. There's going to be some changes around here and I'd like your input."

Syx sniffed the air, his nose curling at the rancid funk pervading the room and pointed to the wad of gore and crumpled metal that used to be Diamanti. "Klk?"

"Hm? Oh, right. There was a difference of opinion. Pay it no mind," said Belladonna, waving him off. "No, I called you in here to discuss a certain project Mr. Nightmare has been conducting under my nose." She glanced over at him, a mocking moue on her face as she wagged her finger. Red rolled his eyes as the loathsome sow prepared to launch into a characteristic bout of playful obfuscation. "Tch-tch. Naughty, naughty. Bad Red, bad. You see–"

[D5H] flashed into existence with a defiant cry, the plates of its eyes snapping open as its pupil flared. "ATA!"

A bass thrum filled the office as a narrow pillar of hyper-gravity flashed into existence between the boy and Bella, aiming to hammer her head into oblivion. The concentrated force splashed across the mirror-polished surface of Red's Seraphim Steel gauntlet, the immense energy of impact was shunted into his muscular frame by the mystical metal, his mighty aura flaring as it dispersed it into the air creating a hurricane gale, flinging furniture, books, and Diamanti's stinking remains about the room. Red stood between them, armored hand extended, gritting his teeth as numerous contusions and ruptured blood vessels made themselves known, the sclera of his left eye turning inky green as capillaries burst, his aura only able to dissipate so much so quickly.

"Careful with those big blasts, Syx," said Red, his body sparking with Pact energy. "You're still recovering from earlier today. Don't gas yourself out too early."

"Uh, thank y–?" Syx began to say.

Red bellowed, and slashed out, talons extended and trailing ribbons of plasma as the impossibly sharp edges and sheer friction rent the atoms themselves asunder. The shockwave alone obliterated the bookcase on the opposite wall in a shower of splinters and shredded paper. Syx stood unharmed, Red's claws having passed right through him like a ghost. Red blinked in realization, noticing he'd overextended with that strike. He began to correct when Setty phased out of Syx's torso, clad in [Titanium], roaring in exertion as she planted both armored feet on the side of his face with the force of a battleship's cannon. He grunted as he was sent hurtling back, smashing a hole into the far wall.

"My office!" Bella wailed, outraged. "If you're going to fight, take it outside, you miserable–!"

Belladonna ducked a bullet-fast haymaker from an armored fist, bobbing out of the way of a subsequent jab as Setty set upon her. The succubus wound up for another before being yanked backward by gravity, Red's gauntleted fist shattering the air her head had been microseconds before. Setty grunted as she thudded into [D5H]'s arms, the two kids looking up to see their mentor looming between them and their target once more. Compelled by the Pact, he launched himself at them with a roar, his other pieces of armor materializing as he did, hand streaking down in a chop. Setty grabbed onto Syx as he pulled them both out of the way, the pair passing through the wall as Red smashed a hole in the floor.

"Good synergy, you two," mused Red, smirking.

"What are you waiting for?!" Bella bellowed, pointing to the door. "Go get them! Kill them!"

Red snarled at her, preparing charge into the hallway when Bella snapped her fingers, pointing to the doorknob. He rolled his eyes, making a point to straighten out his suit jacket and cufflinks, tightening his tie before turning the doorknob and opening the door, looking back to her with an irritated expression. "Happy?"

"Our Deal forbids you from unnecessarily damaging staff or property!" She reminded him. "So kill them without destroying the entire building, you bumbling oaf!"

Red sighed and stepped through the door. 'At least that'll force me to pull my–'

"MORI!"

A huge crimson fist slammed into the side of his face with a cannon report, greenish blood spurting from his mouth as he was sent hurtling down the hallway, crumpling an entire bank of lockers before smashing into an unemptied trash-bin, sending pulverized refuse fluttering in the air.

'That would be Dew,' Red thought, wiping the blood from his chin. 'Good pick. Woof! That kid's definitely hitting harder now.'

Red dusted himself off and got to his feet, looking a ways up the hall at the trio of hellborn standing before him. On the left, Setty hovered some feet off the ground, fists raised in what he could now recognize was a reasonably good brawler's pose, musing that stance and footwork probably didn't mean much when one could levitate.

'I can only hope she's learned a thing or two from Steppenwulf,' he thought to himself, grimly.

On the right was Dew, the bullnecked early bloomer pulled into a classic boxer's stance, his brutish Stand mirroring him. 'That kid's a natural. Out of all of them I can trust him not to pull his punches.'

In the middle was Syx, adopting no fighting posture whatsoever, instead he was hunched over slightly, panting slightly as a sheen of sweat stood proud on his red skin. 'Damn. After Pops, that blast back there took almost everything he had left. What's he thinking? That he'll be able to slow me down while the others get their hits in? Simple, straightforward, but he must know that even the three of them can't hope to incapacitate me, especially with him strung out as he is. He must have something up his sleeve…'

"Stand down, Red!" Syx called out. "We don't want to hurt you, but we will if we have to."

"Would if I could, bud!" Red called back, setting off towards them at a leisurely pace, sabatons clacking on the linoleum, his hands curling into fists with a series of metallic clicks. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

"You can't fight it at all, Red?" Setty said, concern clear in her voice despite her resolute body language. "We'd reallyappreciate any help you can send our way!"

Red shook his head, folding his hands behind his back as arcs of green energy crackled around him. "Not attacking you right now is about all I can do, and it's taking everything I have. I sure hope you don't expect to beat me all by yourselves…"

Syx allowed a small smirk to curl the side of his dour mouth. "Klk-klk."

Red felt something shift, like a full-body blink. The tap of his black, polished suit shoes on linoleum drew his attention down to his feet: his greaves and sabatons were gone. In their place, stretched dangerously thin over his shoes, were a pair of grimy stained socks, the mottled coloring suggesting that, in some bygone era, they had been pink, long since defiled by sweat and infrequent laundering. He examined his hands and gasped, his gauntlets were gone as well. On his left was a similarly dingy sock as was on his shoes, and on his right was what appeared to be a tiny pair of panties.

"Sorry!" A reedy, high-pitched voice called from behind him. "I only had one sock!"

He spun around to see Patty and San, the twitchy little baphomet's Stand floating before her as the black-furred hellhound struggled to hold his huge gauntlets, greaves, and sabatons in her arms. Red snarled in disgust and flexed his aura, incinerating the flimsy, recently used garments from his body.

"Hey!" San cried, turning to Patty, who was glaring at her in irritation. "Sorry, Patty-Cake. Guess you're goin' commando for a while."

He was upon them in an instant, hand wound back, fingers curled into rending hooks. He swung down at the pair, Patty and San flinched and gasped, bracing for impact. A moment passed and they opened their eyes to see his trembling talons hovering in the air mere inches from them. Red was then aware of something else, another influence, slithering around the edges of his cognition, fighting him for control over his arm. He grit his teeth and pressed, his will slowly but surely overcoming the outside influence. As he did, his left hand curled into a fist and swung up, catching him under the chin with a sloppy, half-power uppercut, sending him flipping backwards through the air, away from the pair.

"Patty," a familiarly genteel voice said over the intercom. "Dispose of those, will you?"

"Huh?" Patty blinked, looking down at the Angelic armor in her arms. "O-oh! Ruh-right!"

Patty summoned [t.A.T.u] and tossed the priceless armor at the wall, instantly subsuming them into the Second Dimension. Red tried to summon them to him, finding himself unable.

"Patty, San…" Red said, grinning, as he got to his feet, fresh blood dribbling down his chin. "And is that Arby I hear? Heh. I have to say, Syx, I'm impressed. Please, tell me you didn't rope Ena into this."

"Tell me about it," grumbled Dew, shooting Syx an aside glare.

Setty shrugged. "She's back-up."

"Well?" Red chuckled, cracking his knuckles before beckoning. "Come on, then."

Kabby panted as he ran down the halls, quickly approaching the Shop where the majority of their converts were concentrated. Did Red just want him to get them to safety, or all the kids? Part of him, specifically the part that didn't want to run all over the damned building, hoped for the former, but another part of him knew he meant the latter. He had to get these helpless brats out of here before Red and his chosen champions got down to it.

A series of rumbles sounded through the building, the slight tremor in the floor that had become horribly familiar. "Shit! It's too soon!"

He skidded around the corner and sprinted towards the Shop, hoping against hope that he could wrangle the soon-to-be scared and confused children together and get them out of this incipient…

He opened the doors to the Shop, eyes widening at what he saw. "…Warzone?"

Cars lay strewn about the working bays, crumpled into useless masses of metal like smashed beer cans. Tools were scattered over the floor as though entire boxes had been flung with force, fires raged in oil-rag bins surrounded by hollering, celebrating kids, those with Stands had them out, wreaking havoc alongside those without. At the far end of the Shop the kids, cackling and cheering, were playing soccer with what appeared to be the severed head of Cardi. He looked around to see select members of the Shop Staff in a similar state, or were being gruesomely made so. Others, including Cowlick and the attendants who actually bothered to protect the kids, dangled from the ceiling by chains, wrapped in what appeared to be car frames, somewhat roughed up but intact.

"Viva la revolución!" Barkley crowed from atop a wrecked car, belting out a destructive guitar solo as he pummeled a less well-liked Acquisitions attendant. He slowed down the beat (down) when he looked up, spying Kabby. A sharp, malicious smile spread across his face. "Heya, Kabby…"

All the kids stopped their revelry and turned, staring down the adult, the Staffer, that had intruded on their domain.

"Uh-oh…" Kabby muttered, holding out his hands in front of him. "Hey, Barkley… uh, what's goin' on here?"

"Oh, dintcha hear?" Barkley said, idly strumming on his guitar, prodding Kabby in the belly a few notches harder than what could be considered friendly. "Setty and Syx smeared them some Staffers a li'l while ago. We's takin' over."

"Well, yeah, kinda?" Kabby said, shaking his head and raising his voice, hoping he sounded authoritative. "Look, we gotta get outta here! Setty and Syx're gunnin' for the Boss Lady, which means they gotta go through Red, first! We gotta get outta here before–"

Barkley cut him off with a bass note, Kabby grunted as a blunt vector slammed into his gut, sending him tumbling backwards, wheezing.

"We don't have to do anything, Staffer!" Barrel, the remora boy from the Little Wrath boondoggle, snarled, stepping forward from the crowd, flexing his Stand [Device]. "We don't have to do anything you say ever again!"

"Yeah!" Hanzel cried, his [Black Forest] hopping up and down on his shoulders. "Never-ever!"

"We're takin' over the 'Donna!" One kid, an adorable club-footed imp beggar named Tobi proclaimed, summoning his own Stand, a rather destructive spider-like entity called [Bombs Over Baghdad]. "We're done doin' what grown-ups say! Includin' you! Includin' Red Nightmare! The 'Donna for 'Donna Kids!"

"THE 'DONNA FOR 'DONNA KIDS!" Was the unanimous refrain, the kids without Stands held aloft power tools, sharpened suspension springs, and all manner of bludgeons.

"Shit." Kabby leapt to his feet and scrambled for the door. "Nope! Nope nope nope!"

Barkley strummed a few power-chords. Bass-notes smashing craters into the floor where the older imp had been an instant before, sharp notes shredding heavy machinery into scrap. Kabby dove out the door, rolling across the floor before taking off down the hall, galloping on all fours.

Barkley hit a high-B and the metal doors exploded outward, thick steel crumpled as though by pneumatic battering ram. "Get 'im!"

The children gave an undulating war cry and took off after the imp, Stands and weapons raised.

"Ugh…" The pummeled Staffer groaned on the ground, smiling despite her missing teeth. "Better him than me!"

Barkley belted out a hard, fast riff, lopping the Sinner's head from her shoulders and sending it bouncing across the floor before following after the mob.

"Me and my big mouth…" She gurgled.

Dew grunted as he was sent tumbling down the hall, his [Rebel Yell] bore the brunt of the blow, but it still hurt. He looked up to see Red already on top of him, launching a blisteringly – literally, the air around the guy caught fire when he threw a punch! – fast strike down at him. [Rebel Yell] caught his fist, squeezing it with all his might, but he couldn't even dimple his rough, placoid hide. Dew shot a swift, powerful left to the Sinner's liver, hoping to stun him long enough to get some distance, only for the Sinner to grab his Stand's chain-wrapped wrist, holding it implacably. This was nuts!

"Don't give up, Dew!" Red said as he pressed down, causing the linoleum Dew was laying on to extrude out from under him, pressing him into the concrete, cracks spidering out on the floor. "I know I'm strong, but you'll think of something! You have so much potential, I can smell it on you! [Rebel Yell] is an extension of your soul, your very being. Just like you it has some secrets yet to share! Not to put you on the spot or anything, but the other kids could really use those secrets right now!"

"Stop given' me a pep-talk while kickin' my ass!" Dew strained as he felt himself getting pressed inexorably into the floor. "It's weird!"

"Sorry."

A pair of armored hands reached out from Red's broad chest, grabbing Dew by his dingy, sweat-stained tank top. Red lurched forward as Dew was pulled up and through him, his hands smashing craters into the floor. He looked up to see Dew and Setty streaking down at him, fists raised. The Pact compelled him to reach out and smash them together like cymbals, but he resisted. Instead, he prepared to leap out of the way only to find his legs stiff, less responsive, Arby's will fighting his own for control. The kids bellowed and unleashed a rush of punches, Setty's fists slamming into his lower back as Dew's pummeled his shoulders and head, smashing his torso into the ground. The reinforced concrete gave way and the Sinner punched through to the floor below.

"Dammit!" Dew panted. "This is nuts! No matter what we hit him with, he just keeps comin'! Yer tellin' me this is him nerfed?!"

"We gotta stick with the plan," said Setty, turning as Syx sprinted up to them, huffing and puffing. "Syx, you good?"

"N-no," Syx replied, his voice steely despite the sheen of sweat on his brow. "Red was right, I'm still pretty gassed out from fighting Pops."

"So, what do we do?" Dew said, looking down the hole and raising his fists. "Shit, he's–!"

Red burst from the hole, eyes glowing through curtains of pulverized concrete, and brought his hands together with a thundercrack. The shockwave tore down the hallway, dispersing the dust clouds, shattering windows, buckling lockers, and knocking the garbage cans about. Red looked about at the empty hall, his eyebrow arched. Where were they? Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, a gaggle of cubist figures streaked across the floor and up the walls, taking off down the corridor. He sighed and shook his head, setting off after them at a leisurely pace.

"You won't beat me by running, kids!" He called out. "I'm healing already, so if you're going to think of something, think of it fast!"

"He's right!" Setty hissed as they hid on the wall behind a locker. "What little we've done to him is already patching up! We need to slow him down enough to do some real damage! Syx, are you feeling any better?"

"I need more time!" Syx cried, head in his hands. "Time to breathe, time to think!"

"Time…" Dew murmured, thoughtfully.

Metal screamed as the lockers crumpled like tissue paper, ripped away from the wall. Standing before them was Red Nightmare, his expression set and grim. "Time's up."

The Sinner's fist slammed into the wall, smashing it away. The kids cried out, though immune to damage in this realm, their minds were poorly suited to the assault on the senses this dimension provided. They were scattered about the floor of the adjoining room, imprinted on the pieces of rubble, separated. The world tumbled around them as the debris bounced about the room, their sense of motion negated, stunning them momentarily.

Disorientated, Syx 'looked' about. Luckily for him, gravity permeated the veil between the Second and Third Dimensions, but the information was at once flat and full, his other senses screaming at the discord and lack of input. He felt like he was going to vomit, he needed to vomit, but physically couldn't, not in here. He managed to focus through discomfort, looking around in time to see Red's foot raised above the piece of debris Syx' visage was occupying.

"Sorry, Syx," muttered Red.

Syx grit his teeth and braced, preparing to be scattered about anew. A roar drew his attention as Setty and Dew streaked by, tackling Red through the wall.

Syx sighed in relief before squawking in surprise as he was unceremoniously dumped into the Third Dimension.

There was the vomit. 'Hello, lunch. You haven't aged well.'

"S-Syx!" Patty cried, clambering up next to him, patting his back. "I-I'm suh-sorry! A-are you okay?"

"No…" He growled, wiping off his mouth and spitting. "I'm still too tired to use any of my strongest moves! I'm useless in this fight!"

"Oh, is that all?" San said, pulling out her [Stealers Wheel] and flicking around some tiles. "Here you go!"

Syx grunted as he felt something akin to a full-body 'blink'. His exhaustion evaporated like a drop of water on a hot skillet, burned away by a sudden wave of jittery, electric verve. He felt his fingers tremble as his body surged with aimless, unfocused drive. His normally ordered mind suddenly entertaining four or five lines of thoughts at once, helplessly tangled together like a troupe of Vaudeville pratfallers trying to use a single door. He grit his teeth and focused himself, his supreme will wrangling the sudden wave of irrepressible energy into his familiar sense of order. He got to his feet and squeezed his hands into fists, ready to re-enter the fray. But what had caused this sudden jolt of vitality?

"San!" He heard Patty call out, turning to see the normally irrepressible baphomet flat on her rear, panting and heaving as rivulets of sweat poured down her brow. "What's wrong?"

"J-just gave Syx a l'il t-top-up!" San replied, chuckling weakly between huffs. "And h-he needed it! Phew! You felt like this the whole time? H-how were you even standing?"

"You swapped your energy for his tiredness?!" Patty exclaimed.

"Y-you always said I have too much pep!" San said, shrugging. "F-figgered I'd sh-share!"

"You gave him all your energy?!" Patty said as she pulled her hair; Syx noted with wry amusement that Patty never seemed to stutter when chewing out San. "You could have died!"

San shrugged. "But I didn't?"

A resounding crash shook the room, a pained grunt followed as Setty skidded across the floor, groaning. Syx looked up to see Dew attempting to grapple with the towering Sinner, even his rugged Stand unable to do much more than slowly buckle before his titanic strength.

"Setty," he said, holding out his hand. "Tag in."

He sensed her grin through her visor, reaching up and slapping his palm. "Go get 'im, tiger!"

Dew strained, pouring all his rage and drive into his Stand, only barely managing to keep Red's talons from squashing him like a bug. He felt his legs start to buckle, dropping to one knee. Didn't this asshole ever get tired?! His Stand was powerful, fast, and accurate in a way he couldn't properly express. But then, wasn't that always the case when it came to anything complicated? When it came to figuring things out, what to do, what to say, he only ever had two options: act on impulse or dither and agonize. There was never enough time to make a decision, to say the right thing, to do anything other than whatever instinctive, self-destructive notion popped into his head. Just like him, his [Rebel Yell] was nothing more than a brute, a bludgeon, a tool to be thrown at a specific problem. Fighting anyone he couldn't simply overpower or stomp was, apparently, like using a hammer to polish a sportscar.

"Setty and Syx were like you, Dew," said Red, his voice only somewhat strained as he slowly crushed the boy. "Their Stands are strong and fast, true, but both of them are so much more, can do so much more. So can yours. I know it can, Dew!"

"St-stop…" Dew snarled through gritted teeth. "Talkin'… So… Much!"

"Right. I'll try and make this quick," said Red, increasing the pressure. "If only you'd had more time to hone. To explore. I'm sorry it came to this."

Dew buckled under the pressure, his groans of exertion slowly but steadily rising into a scream as both his spirit and his body began to give out. He just needed to hold out a little more! Just a little more time! It was then he felt [Rebel Yell] shift its grasp, its fingers digging into something other than Red's unyielding hide. Everything around him went… taut? Like his Stand was grabbing a thin layer of material and pulling, space itself warping around his fingers, threatening to tear away. The more he squeezed, the more [Rebel Yell] dug in, the stronger the feeling got, the more he could feel it form in his mind, his surroundings bending, warping, a flat sheet curling in on itself, forming a weird, wavy crescent.

No, not a crescent.

A ring, a flat ring with a half-twist at the connecting ends.

What was that?!

A bass thrum sounded as a pillar of hypergravity appeared on Red Nightmare's flank, slamming the Sinner into the far wall at incredible speeds, the sound of him smashing through dozens of other walls echoing through the hole. Syx was at his side in a second, helping him to his feet.

"Thanks," said Dew, gruffly, eyeing up the blind mute imp, practically glowing with vitality. "Shit, Syx, you sure bounce back quick."

"Had a bit of a top-up courtesy of San," said Syx, dusting him off, actually smiling for once. "This must be what crack is like!"

"Ho-lee shee-it!" Dew threw his head back and laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen you proper smile before! She got any more of that shit?"

Red Nightmare roared as he streaked from the hole in the wall, enormous hands extended, talons glinting. Dew and Syx unleashed a flurry of punches only for the huge Sinner to pass right through them, his body shattering and scattering furniture before smashing a new hole in the wall. The boys glanced at one another and then at the articulated metal hands on their shoulders, looking up to see Setty hovering over them.

"You boys got another round in ya?" She said, chuckling.

A bellowing, inhuman roar drew their attention to Red as he stepped through the hole in the wall, his eyes glowing toxic harlequin as Pact energy crackled over him, evidently painful.

"Stop. Making me. Damage property," Red snarled through gritted fangs.

"Sorry, Red," said Syx, adopting a fighting stance.

"Yeah," said Setty, apologetically. "We'll try and make this quick."

They moved to attack when [Rebel Yell]'s arm swung out, halting them. "Wait. I'll handle him."

"What?" Setty said, glancing at Dew and then at Red. "Dew, man, you hit your head or something?"

"You heard me, bitch!" Dew snapped, gesturing at her and Syx and then at the door. "I'll hold Red off while you merc Boss Lady."

"Dew–" Syx began to say, concerned.

"Listen, will you?!" Dew interrupted, gesturing at Red. "Look at him! We may we well be shootin' spitballs at a Mack Truck! Our only way outta this is if Boss Lady bites it! You two'll be more than enough to handle her fat ass, I just gotta keep this asshole from steppin' in!"

"Dew," said Setty, grabbing his shoulder. "He'll kill you."

"Don't matter. Just kill Belladonna," said Dew, spitting after saying her name. "Besides, I got an angle. Go. Get out of here."

Setty and Syx grimaced at one another before nodding in silent agreement. She grabbed his hand and pulled Syx up through the roof. Red grit his teeth and prepared to give chase, only to be tackled into the adjoining room by Dew. The incubus roared as he hammered down on the Sinner's face with a flurry of punches, his Stand bellowing its warcry as it did. Red Nightmare grabbed his fist in his palm with an explosive sound, the shockwave sending chairs and desks tumbling about. He roared and swung up, swinging the boy overhead to slam into the floor.

"Not sure what you were expecting to accomplish with this, Dew," said Red as he towered over him, raising his arm over his head in a chop. "There's no way they'll reach Belladonna and kill her before I deal with you and get to them. Why throw your life away like this?"

"What life? You think I give a shit?" Dew said, grimacing. "I'm too much like him, see? Like Pops. So what if I die? Just means I won't grow up and Hell's one asshole poorer. These things repeat, right? Like a… circle with a… twist in it?"

"A Möbius strip," said Red, his brow furrowed, a muted sort of sympathy clear in his eyes. "It doesn't… it doesn't have to be that way, you know?"

"Yeah…" Dew rose to his feet, not averting his gaze as he adopted a fighting stance. "Whatever."

"Stand down, Dew," said Red, his arm trembling and sparking as he resisted the Deal. "If you don't attack, neither will I. That's the best I can do for you."

"But then you'd have to go stop Syx and Setty, right?" Dew growled, summoning his Stand. "Fuck that."

"Dew…"

"Remember all that shit you was talkin' before?" Dew said, smirking. "About figgerin' things out?"

Red's eyes narrowed, the hint of a smile curling the sides of his mouth. "…Yes?"

"Hey," Dew said, grinning. "Wanna see somethin' cool?"

"Yes." Red's eyes shone, smiling now. "I do."

The boy roared as [Rebel Yell] reached out, its clawed fingers digging into the air, no, the space around them, pulling it taut, the world around them stretching, pulling, snapping. For an instant it appeared as though the room they stood in, the rooms adjacent, the hallways, the view outside the windows, all came rushing in. Weaving together.

"[Rebel Yell]!" Dew bellowed, as his Stand clapped its hands together, pulling space and time together. "[WHITE WEDDING]!"

Reality snapped back into place like an elastic band. Red's head swiveled about, trying to detect any appreciable difference, finding none. "…That's it?"

Dew folded his arms across his chest. "Yep."

"What did you do?"

"Not sure," said Dew, tapping his temple. "I mean, I think I know, but I dunno how to say it. Anyway, you better go stop Setty and Syx, yeah?"

Red studied the boy for a moment, scanning his body language for any intent to attack, for once finding none. "…Yeah. You won't attack when I turn my back?"

"Naw." Dew fished about in his pockets and produced a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. "I'm on break."

Red shrugged and stepped out of the room, scanning the hall for anyone, finding it empty. He set off down the hall, past one of the staircases and an elevator, not that he'd bother with them. Their fight had taken them all over the 'Donna, up through floors, down through floors, around the perimeter, even with Setty's intangibility, getting to Bella's office would take time. He just had to find the right spot and smash through the–

"Sup?" Dew said as Red ran by him.

"Hey–" Red skidded to a stop, turning to the young incubus as he took a drag on his cigarette, a sour smirk on his face. "…Dew? How…?"

Dew tapped his watchless wrist. "Tick-tock."

Red furrowed his brow, taking off in the opposite direction, with Dew on his right. He sprinted down the hall looking for familiar landmarks. A fire extinguisher, room 303, a heavily graffitied bank of lockers, the… staircase and elevator.

And Dew.

"Long time no see," he said, wryly.

Red grit his teeth and leapt upward, smashing through the ceiling and into the higher floor. His feet set down on the linoleum as he stepped out of the dust cloud, eyes widening. Standing there, leaning on the doorframe was Dew, smiling now. He turned around to the hole he had made, looking down into it, gasping at what he saw.

Himself.

He saw himself looking down at himself, who in turn was looking down at yet another him, and on and on in an endless tunnel. He looked up to see the same, but in that tunnel the other hims were looking up just as endlessly. A slow chill raced up his spine, his guts clenching in horror as hideously familiar memories spilled in. He knew in his heart that this was no Requiem, but the momentary reminder had been enough to put the fear of God into him. No, this was much more mundane but no less troublesome, space itself had been pulled in by the boy's Stand and folded into a loop, a Möbius Strip.

He was trapped.

Author's note

Red's so proud of his kids.