One year after Harlem.
The morning sun bathed Air Suplena Island in a golden glow, the sky above so bright and clear it looked endless. The ruins, the cliffs, the temple—they all felt heavier today, like the island itself understood the significance of what was about to happen.
John Joestar stood barefoot in the center of the ancient stone training ring, the same one where he'd first awakened his Ripple a year ago. His body was leaner now, his stance more confident. His steel balls hung at his belt, glinting in the light, and his nails faintly shimmered with the quiet, coiled power of the Spin.
Weather Report floated behind him, arms folded, silent as the grave.
Across from him, Joseph Joestar cracked his knuckles with a mischievous grin. His silver hair fluttered in the salty breeze, and slung casually at his side were two battered clackers—worn, but deadly. The air around him seemed charged, as if his very blood was humming with Ripple energy.
"Alright, Johnny-boy," Joseph said, rolling his shoulders. "One last dance before you head back to the Big Apple."
John smirked, settling into a low stance. "Go easy on me, old man."
Joseph laughed—loud, fearless. "Kid, I'm about to break you like a cheap souvenir."
Without warning, Joseph surged forward, golden Hamon flashing across his fists. The clackers spun, leaving streaks of sunlight in the air.
John reacted instantly. He kicked off the ground with a burst of wind summoned by Weather Report, leaping skyward like a missile. A steel ball whirled from his hand, propelled by the perfect rotational energy of the Spin.
Joseph's clackers snapped out, intercepting the steel ball mid-flight with a crackling burst of Hamon. Sparks exploded in the air.
John landed lightly on a gust of air, breathing steady. He flicked his finger, launching a Nail Bullet with pinpoint force. It ripped through the air, trailing spiraling energy behind it.
Joseph snarled playfully, coating his clackers in Hamon and swinging them in a wild arc."Sunlight Yellow Overdrive!"
A wave of Hamon energy burst outward, colliding with the Nail Bullet and dispersing it harmlessly.
John grinned.
He wasn't done yet.
He summoned another burst of wind to rocket forward in a blur, crossing the arena in seconds. His body blurred as he weaved between the ancient pillars, using Weather Report's control over air pressure to snap between cover points like a ghost.
Breathe in the pattern. Feel the flow. Strike!
John charged, steel ball spinning with lethal precision.Joseph answered with a wild, crackling whip of his Hamon-infused clackers.
The impact shook the arena, blowing dust and sea mist skyward. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stones.
John thought about using Tusk Act 2—the ability to move the "Hole" his Nail Bullet made—but clenched his fists.
No. Too dangerous. Even for him.
Instead, he used his momentum and spun another steel ball at Joseph's legs—a calculated trip attempt.
Joseph leapt back, breathing heavily, a wide grin splitting his face.
"That's it, kid! That killer instinct—! That's the Joestar spirit!"
John skidded to a stop, his lungs burning with exertion, Ripple thrumming in every fiber of his body.He smirked.
"I could just stand barrage you with Weather Report," John taunted, flexing his fingers as the air swirled tighter around him, "but that'd be way too unfair."
Joseph barked out a laugh, clenching his fists tighter.
"Come at me, Johnny-boy!"
John roared, launching forward again—this time at full power.
Steel balls spun like meteors.
Wind lashed like whips.
Nail Bullets fired like artillery.
Joseph met him head-on, shouting ancient Ripple techniques—his clackers a blur of sunlight and fury.
And then—At the peak of the clash—As one of John's Nail Bullets spun toward Joseph's exposed side—A vine of glowing purple energy suddenly erupted from Joseph's wrist.
WHIP-CRACK!
The spectral thorny vine coiled around the projectile mid-flight and yanked it away an instant before impact.
Both of them froze.
John skidded back, eyes wide.
Joseph stood panting, staring at the glowing, crackling purple vines coiling around his arm.
"What... the hell?" John gasped.
Joseph looked just as stunned. He flexed his fingers, the vines responding to his will, shimmering like a living extension of his Ripple.
A slow grin spread across Joseph's face.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, laughing breathlessly. "Looks like I still had a few tricks left in the tank."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[STAND DETECTED: Hermit Purple]
[User: Joseph Joestar]
[Ability: Spirit-based energy vines. Functions unknown.]
John exhaled, his pulse racing.
He grinned.
"Guess you're not just an old man after all."
Joseph winked, twirling his clackers lazily. "Never underestimate a Joestar, Johnny-boy. Not even an ancient one."
They both laughed—long, loud, and free—the sound echoing across the cliffs, blending with the endless roar of the ocean.
-<<>o<>>-
The last echoes of their laughter faded into the endless blue sky.
Joseph and John sat side by side on the sand, the training ring now far behind them. Their legs were stretched out, bare feet dug into the warm, golden grains. The ocean rumbled before them in slow, lazy waves. A salty breeze tousled their hair.
Joseph flexed his hand again, the purple vines of Hermit Purple flickering faintly before dissolving into nothingness.
He chuckled under his breath. "Still can't believe it," he said, voice low and amazed. "I always thought my Ripple days were all I had left. But this—this Stand thing—"
John rested his arms on his knees, staring out at the sea. Weather Report hovered nearby, its pale form nearly invisible against the bright sky.
"Yeah," John muttered. "It doesn't make sense."
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair.
"You've been using Ripple your whole life. If a Stand was going to awaken, it should've happened long ago." John frowned, squinting against the sunlight. "Why now?"
Joseph shrugged, grinning. "Maybe getting my ass kicked by my own son shook something loose?"
John chuckled dryly.
But deep inside... he felt it. A pressure. Something... tugging at the corners of his mind.
Why now...? Why would Joseph Joestar awaken a Stand after all this time?
The thought circled and gnawed at him like a hungry wolf.
And then—It hit him.
Like a spear driven through his brain—FLASH!
A memory—not from this life—but from another.
A black coffin. A grey mask. A grinning face. HIM.
DIO.
John's breath hitched, his body seizing up. A hundred images smashed into his mind:
Dio clutching the Stand Arrow.
Dio's body—Jonathan Joestar's body—twisting with new, terrifying power.
Stands awakening in the bloodline.
Jotaro.
Joseph.
Holly.
All of them feeling the ripple effect of Jonathan's stolen body being transformed by Dio.
It wasn't just random. It was fate. It was blood.
John gasped, clenching his fists into the sand.
Questions gnawed at him.
He couldn't tell Joseph about the flashes of memory — about Dio, about the past life he was starting to remember. Not yet. Not until he understood it himself.
Instead, he kept his voice casual as he dug his hands into the sand.
"Hey, Dad," he said. "Can I ask you something?"
Joseph turned, raising an eyebrow. "Shoot."
John stared out at the horizon, feigning nonchalance.
"How did your grandfather—Jonathan Joestar—die?"
Joseph blinked, a little caught off guard. But then he leaned back, looking up at the sky as if trying to pull the story from the clouds.
"Well," he began, "it's a bit of a family legend."
He paused for a moment, then smiled sadly.
"My grandpa Jonathan was a true gentleman. He and my grandma, Erina, were sailing to America to start a new life. Everything was supposed to be perfect. But Dio—Jonathan's adopted brother—wasn't about to let him go so easily."
John listened intently, his heart thudding in his chest.
Joseph's eyes darkened slightly as he continued. "Dio had become something... unnatural. A vampire. He attacked them on the ship. From what Grandma Erina told me... Jonathan fought him, gave everything he had to stop him."
Joseph clenched his fist slowly.
"In the end, he managed to save Erina. She escaped with some other survivors... but Jonathan..." He exhaled, heavy with the weight of loss. "He died on that ship."
John's breath caught in his throat.
"And Dio?" he asked carefully. "Was he killed?"
Joseph shrugged, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Grandma Erina believed Dio was defeated. But... she also said she never saw the body. No proof, no certainty."
A cold chill ran down John's spine.
No body.
No confirmation.
A vampire — something that could survive things normal men couldn't.
John felt the blood drain from his face.
If Dio survived...If he's still out there...And if Joseph awakened his Stand because of me...
His mind raced, connecting the dots at terrifying speed.
What if my awakening... woke him up too?
He gritted his teeth, forcing his expression to stay calm. Joseph didn't need to know the storm brewing inside him.
"Thanks for telling me," John said, voice steady.
Joseph gave him a sideways look. "Why the sudden interest, kiddo?"
John shrugged, trying to play it off. "Just... thinking about the future, I guess."
Joseph smiled wistfully and turned back to the sea.
"Yeah," he said. "The future's always been a little crazy for the Joestars."
John nodded silently, but his hands curled into fists in the sand.
If DIO is still out there... if he's alive...Then the real battle hasn't even begun yet.
At last, Joseph reached out and clapped a firm hand on John's shoulder.
"Whatever it is," he said quietly, "we'll face it. Joestars don't run."
John looked at him—and for a moment, he wasn't just looking at his father.He was looking at a living bridge to a history of warriors, of battles fought under impossible odds, of an unbreakable will passed down through blood and spirit.
He straightened his back.
"...Yeah," John said. "We don't run."
They sat there in silence for a long while, watching the sun slip lower toward the horizon.
Tomorrow, John would leave this island.Tomorrow, he would step back into a world filled with chaos, with heroes and monsters alike.But today—
Today, he sat with his father, shoulder to shoulder, and stared down destiny.
-<<>o<>>-
The morning sun hung low over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the quiet harbor.
John and Joseph stood near the docks, the salty breeze ruffling their clothes. Behind them, their luggage was already packed — ready for the trip back to New York.
It was time.
Joseph clapped a hand on John's shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze.
"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked, his voice gruff but kind.
John nodded, eyes steeled with determination. "Yeah. I have to be."
Joseph studied him for a long moment, pride and worry battling behind his eyes. "New York's not the same city we left," he said. "And you're not the same kid you were a year ago."
John smiled faintly. "Neither are you, old man."
Joseph barked out a short laugh. "Guess we're both full of surprises."
There was a brief, comfortable silence between them — the kind that only comes after surviving something huge together.
John turned to face his father fully.
"I promise you, Dad," he said, voice low but fierce. "I won't let something like Harlem happen again. I won't let innocent people... people like Holly... get hurt because I wasn't strong enough."
Joseph's expression softened, a deep sadness flickering in his eyes at the mention of Holly.
He pulled John into a rough, tight hug.
"You don't have to carry it all yourself, kid," he muttered. "But if anyone can keep that promise... it's you."
John closed his eyes, feeling the weight of it — the vow, the loss, the responsibility — settle deep in his bones.
When they pulled apart, Joseph smiled, wiping at his eyes quickly like he could pretend he hadn't teared up.
"Alright," Joseph said, slapping John on the back with a grin. "Let's go raise some hell, Joestar style."
John chuckled, feeling lighter and heavier all at once.
As they boarded the boat, the morning light bathing them in gold, John glanced once over his shoulder — back at the island where he'd trained, where he'd awakened something ancient inside himself.
And he swore silently:
No more running. No more weakness. Whatever was coming... he'd be ready.
.
.
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Author's Note:
Guys, I have a few questions.
1) Why Does Webnovel keep fucking the formatting up? I swear to god, any and all spacing errors you see are not mine.
2) Would you like two chapters of 1-1.5k words everyday, or One chapter of 2-3k words?
3) Harem or no Harem? ( This is my first novel, so romance might be a bit difficult to integrate into the story). Also if no harem, romance or no romance at all?
4) Which stand would you like next? Note: He might not get a new one for quite a bit more chapters in order to make sure the power scaling doesn't get too messed up.
Also, I'll say something. I need.... *drum roll*.... REVIEWS. I'll upload a bonus chapter ( Long, don't worry) if we reach 10 reviews, or 150 power stones. I'll upload 2 bonus chapters if we manage both.