Sleep did not come easily that night.
Jovian lay still in his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, watching faint shadows shift as passing lights from the street filtered through the thin curtains. The city outside continued its usual rhythm—distant footsteps, muffled voices, the occasional rumble of a passing vehicle—but to him, everything felt distant, disconnected. His thoughts were louder than the world itself.
The events of the day replayed endlessly in his mind, not as fragments, but in sharp, vivid clarity. The distortion in the air. The way the ground collapsed without warning. The presence of something unseen, yet undeniably real. It wasn't just power—it was control over something deeper, something unnatural.
And then there was the man.
Voss Calder.
Even thinking the name sent a quiet tension through his chest, as though his instincts were trying to warn him of something he couldn't yet understand. It wasn't fear—not exactly. It was awareness. The kind that told him this wasn't a random encounter. It was the beginning of something far larger than himself.
Across the room, Vital Mirage stood silently near the window. Its golden and silver form was dim, its usual radiant glow subdued, as though it too was conserving energy after the strain of the battle. Even in stillness, it felt alive—its presence steady, constant, and strangely reassuring.
Jovian shifted slightly, pushing himself upright. His muscles protested immediately, a dull ache spreading through his arms and shoulders. He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers slowly. The memory of that invisible force lingered—not just physically, but mentally. It had been unlike anything he had ever faced before.
Until now, his Stand had always been enough.
Vital Mirage had protected him instinctively, reacting faster than danger could fully form. Whether it was falling debris, sudden accidents, or minor threats, it had always responded with precision and control. But today had been different. Today, for the first time, he had faced something that didn't follow normal rules. Something that couldn't be seen, predicted, or easily countered.
And yet… he had managed to touch it.
That moment stood out clearly in his memory—the exact instant he had stopped reacting blindly and started thinking. The shift in the air, the subtle distortion, the invisible pressure just before the attack. He hadn't seen it, but he had felt it. And that had been enough.
Jovian swung his legs off the bed and stood up slowly. The floor felt cold beneath his feet, grounding him in reality. He walked toward the window, stopping just a short distance from Vital Mirage. For a moment, he simply stood there, looking at the reflection of both himself and his Stand in the glass.
"You knew before I did," he said quietly.
Vital Mirage remained still, but its glow pulsed faintly, almost imperceptibly.
Jovian frowned slightly, not in frustration, but in thought. "You always react first. Even before I understand what's happening."
That had always been the case. It wasn't just speed. It was instinct—something deeper than conscious thought. But now, that wasn't enough anymore. If he wanted to survive what was coming, he needed more than instinct. He needed control.
He stepped back, creating space in the room, and raised one hand slightly. Vital Mirage responded immediately, shifting into position, its movements smooth and perfectly synchronized with his own.
Jovian closed his eyes for a moment, focusing. Not on the world around him, but on the connection between himself and his Stand. The faint pulse of energy, the rhythm that linked them together.
When he opened his eyes again, they were sharper. More focused.
"Let's try something," he murmured.
He extended his hand toward a small wooden chair near the corner of the room. Vital Mirage mirrored the motion, its fingers glowing faintly as a soft, golden energy began to gather.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, slowly, the chair shifted.
Not violently. Not dramatically. Just a slight movement, as though something unseen had nudged it forward.
Jovian narrowed his eyes, concentrating harder. The glow around Vital Mirage intensified slightly, and the chair lifted—just barely—hovering a fraction above the ground.
It wasn't about strength. It was about control.
After a few seconds, he released the focus, and the chair dropped back into place with a quiet thud.
Jovian exhaled slowly, lowering his hand.
"That's new," he said under his breath.
Vital Mirage's abilities had always been there, but he had never pushed them this far. Manipulating objects, controlling movement, channeling energy with precision—it was all possible, but it required concentration. Discipline.
Something he hadn't needed before.
But now he did.
He turned his gaze back toward the window, looking out at the darkened streets of Marseille. Somewhere out there, Voss Calder existed. Watching. Waiting. Moving pieces into place for reasons Jovian couldn't yet understand.
And if what happened today was only a glimpse of that power… then this wasn't something he could face alone.
The thought lingered, heavier than the others.
For the first time, Jovian considered the possibility that there were others like him. People with Stands. People who had also faced things they couldn't explain.
People who might already know what Voss Calder was capable of.
His reflection stared back at him in the glass—young, but no longer unaware. There was a difference now. A shift. The kind that only came after facing something that changed the way you saw the world.
Jovian clenched his fist slightly.
"I'm not staying like this," he said quietly. "Not weak. Not unprepared."
Vital Mirage stepped forward, its presence stronger now, its glow steady and resolute.
The path ahead was uncertain, filled with dangers he couldn't yet see. But one thing was clear—
This was no longer just about survival.
It was about becoming strong enough to face what was coming.
And next time…
He wouldn't hesitate.