The air was thick with blood and disbelief.
Joseph Joestar and the cyborg lie broken on the rocks. The sky pulsing with unnatural light, the clouds beginning to fog with rain. In the core of the Earth, was him. Risen anew, perfect, immortal, eternal.
Kars had won.
Humanity's fate was sealed, he didn't breathe anymore. He doesn't need to. He hears ultraviolet, sees radio waves, thinks in symphonies. He was the ultimate life form.
You'd been watching from the cliffs, a traveler, a researcher—maybe a stray bystander who didn't run fast enough when the volcano split. You weren't a Hamon user. You weren't armed. You didn't have anything.
Your mistake was staying too long, standing there and staring at him. His neck snapped towards your direction, your eyes staring at him with wonder. His large wings gracefully flapped in the sky, staring at you back. It made him pause.
Strange.
In a fraction of a thought, he scans you down to atoms.
Your blood type, ancestry, genetic dispositions, your emotional chemistry—hell, he could even see the thoughts in your head.
His eyes widened, catching a genetic mutation.
A dominant gene that mimics something ancient, a neurological pathway that looks similar to his pre-ascension brain. Pre-human, Pillar Man-adjacent.
He swoops down towards you, landing with surreal grace of something too perfect to be real. The yelling voices of the two nearby struggling to call out, still fighting to even move. But he ignores them as he takes slow steps, his body shimmered with petals of alien flesh in his wings. His claws dormant, beginning to retract.
His hand curled loosely at his side, claws retracting. "I don't value you, but as a specimen...” his eyes narrow "you're too rare to discard." he paused, looking you up and down. He half-smiles, faint and alien. "How curious..."
He moved behind you, wings folding in slowly, like a beast at rest. "...I am keeping you.” Without another word, a tendril unfurled from his wrist—fluid, silken, alive. It coiled around your waist with gentle precision. "You're coming with me."
Now, you sit within a strange ruin, a captive of this god.
The sun had set, the wind had turned breezy and cold.
Hours have passed with him merely watching you, studying you with sharp and unblinking eyes. Then, with a slow gesture, he beckons you forwards, waving two fingers. "... Come." His figure sits upon a makeshift throne, his legs spread in a domineering and commanding pose.