Sunshine beamed through the window of a peaceful Italian mansion. Giorno Giovanna stood at the window and sighed. A navy bird landed on the mafioso’s finger. The bird chirped a sweet song to Giorno, and Giorno smiled back. Light footsteps tapped on the table next to the window.

“That’s a beautiful bluebird,” said a voice near the window. “And a wonderful song.”

Giorno turned. A turtle stood on the table next to him. A man’s upper body stuck out of the reptile’s back - the man had tall hair, and an eyepatch.

“A canary, actually, not a bluebird,” said Giorno. “His name is Johns. He’s a lovely singer, and a wonderful companion. His death tonight will be sad.”

“Wh-what?!” sputtered Polnareff. “He’s dying tonight?! That’s awful! What happened to him?!”

“Johns was born with an incredible stand ability,” explained Giorno. “But it comes at a cost. Johns needs light to survive, and every day his needs increase. He’s only four years old, but already he can’t be sustained by modern UV lamps. Every day, darkness increases, and ever more powerful lights are needed to combat it.”

“That’s… horrible,” said Polnareff. “But, isn’t there something you can do? With Gold Experience?”

“To keep him alive? No,” said Giorno. “But do not despair, Jean. I have… made some arrangements. If all goes well, Johns’s song will live on long after his death.”

Johns flew into a nearby tree. Giorno stepped away from the window, and extended a hand towards Polnareff.

“Now, I believe I assigned a task to you,” said Giorno. “Did you bring the item I requested?”

Polnareff reached into the turtle’s body, and retrieved a small item wrapped in cloth.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” said Polnareff. “I’m not sure why you think you need it, though. There are guards posted all over the building.”

“I just… want it for safekeeping,” said Giorno, accepting the prize. “Nothing you need to be concerned with. Now, if you will indulge me, could you please spend your evening elsewhere? Tell my bodyguards to go downstairs as well. I would like some time alone.”

Polnareff nodded, and the turtle backed away from the window.

= = = = = = = = = =

The sun set over the serene mansion. Giorno drummed his fingers on the windowsill. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement out of his open doorway - a red mist, filling the corridor.

A glass bottle popped out of the mist. It flew past the threshold and shattered on the floor, spreading fire to Giorno’s carpet. A woman’s silhouette revealed itself through the flames. She was holding a stone goblet, and had curly blue hair.

“Michaela Newton,” said Giorno. “You wish to evolve humanity to its perfect state. You believe my treasure will allow you to accomplish this. You are here to kill me, in the hopes of unlocking the path to my treasure. Is that correct?”

“If it comes to that,” said Michaela. “But I don’t really have to kill you. Your Gold Experience is an incredible ability, creating life from nothing… your stand would be perfectly capable of triggering the evolution I seek. You could be my acolyte.”

“Interesting proposition,” said Giorno. “Did you give the same pitch to my associates across Europe before you killed them? Or were you more concerned with getting as much information as possible before landing your finishing blow?”

“Your order of operations may be mixed up,” said Michaela. “So, I take it you’re not interested in my perfection?”

“I seek to uphold truth and righteousness,” said Giorno. “An evolution that strips away human uniqueness, that effectively kills everyone too weak to handle the mutations… is no ‘upgrade’ process to me.”

“Very well-”

“Furthermore,” said Giorno. “Your entire premise is flawed. Michaela Newton… if I had to guess, you were bullied in your youth? The other kids shunned you for being ‘inferior’ - poverty, looks, intelligence, or some combination of the above. One day, you unlocked a stand with above average power or an uncommon ability, and you believed this was evidence as to your superiority over all mankind. Your ‘utilitarian’ ideals are nothing more than an excuse you use to look down on others the same way they looked down on you. Am I correct?”

Flames licked around Giorno’s bedroom. Through the heat, Giorno felt Michaela’s gaze burning into his skin.

“I hate you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

“You absolutely disgust me, Giorno Giovanna,” spat Michaela. “Your philosophy is antithetical to humanity’s progress… you would destroy all mankind for the sake of truth. Your denial of my perfection… no, your blatant insulting of my perfection. It’s more than I can bear.”

“Duly noted.”

“But, I must admit, it’s fortunate that you pissed me off so much,” said Michaela. “Now, I don’t need to leave anything up to chance. Xanadu: Twist of Fate!”

A shadowy stand appeared behind Michaela Newton. The fire sucked towards its velvet finger. Michaela’s stone goblet broke apart, splashing water into the air. A breeze filled the room as a vortex swirled by Michaela. A glint caught Michaela’s eye. The cloth in Giorno’s head fell away, revealing a golden arrowhead. Gold Experience appeared behind Giorno, and he stabbed the arrowhead into its flesh.

“Every day, darkness increases, and ever more powerful lights are needed to combat it,” said Giorno. “Gold Experience: Requiem!”

Gold Experience’s skin broke away, and the upgraded stand reached its arm around its master. Gold Experience Requiem held up a defiant hand towards Michaela.

A corkscrew of fire, water, earth, and air drilled through Giorno’s head. Gold Experience Requiem shattered, the arrowhead turning to dust. Giorno fell to his knees and slumped over. Xanadu snatched a ladybug brooch off Giorno’s chest. Michaela Newton slinked back into the shadows, and disappeared.

Harry Warhol stepped through a bamboo door. Rain pelted down on Harry’s face as he looked behind him. The door glowed white, and blinked out of existence. Harry sighed, and nervously scanned the area. Harry’s surroundings seemed to be that of a military base. The roads were clean. Behind Harry was a set of barracks, and in the distance could be seen some large buildings and a security checkpoint. Every building was made entirely of bamboo. The base was built into the side of a mountain.

Harry stepped through the base, towards some vehicles. He squinted his eyes. One of the vehicles seemed to be a tank with a fighter jet cockpit. He turned around. Another vehicle nearby was a fighter jet, with a tank’s turret fused to the front.

“This place… it must be an alternate dimension!” thought Harry. “A pocket universe, contained entirely within the feathers’ stand! It has to be! There’s nowhere on Earth that looks anything close to this!”

A quick movement entered Harry’s peripheral. Harry spun around. A shadowy figure was skulking behind the tank-plane. Harry stared at the figure, while slowly backing away. He bumped into a warm figure behind him. Harry screamed. A pale hand grabbed Harry’s collar, and yanked his body to face hers.

“Warhol?! You’re here too?!” spat Michaela. “Here to beat me to the treasure, no doubt. I should kill you where you stand-”

“N-no! I swear!” sputtered Harry. “I’m not trying to stop you, m-ma’am! I was just keeping an eye on that…”

Harry trailed off as he looked back towards the tank-plane. The shadowy figure was gone. Michaela grabbed Harry’s chin, and pulled his face towards hers.

“Fool,” said Michaela. “You do realize what this is, yes? Giovanna used this pocket dimension to hide his treasure. That flash drive is hidden somewhere in this base… and I’m not about to let some useless, pitiful, stupid, smelly-”

Michaela’s words cut off with a sputter. Harry’s eyes shot open. The two looked down. A thick, bright-red spear had been stabbed through both of their midsections.