Morning came with a quiet heaviness, as though the city itself carried the weight of something unseen. Jovian stepped into the streets of Marseille with a sharper awareness than ever before. The world hadn't changed—but his perception of it had. Every movement, every shadow, every subtle shift in the air felt significant now.
He wasn't just walking anymore. He was observing.
Vital Mirage remained close, its presence faint but constant, like a second heartbeat guiding his instincts. Since the previous night, Jovian had made a decision—he wouldn't wait for danger to come to him again. If others like Voss Calder existed, then there had to be others like him as well.
And if that was true… he needed to find them.
The opportunity came sooner than expected.
A sudden crash echoed from further down the street, followed by the sharp sound of metal bending and people shouting. Jovian's head snapped toward the noise, his body reacting before his thoughts fully formed.
He ran.
Turning the corner, he was met with chaos. A delivery truck had overturned, its cargo scattered across the road, wooden crates splintered open. But the damage didn't make sense. The impact pattern wasn't natural—it looked as though something had struck the truck from the side with immense force.
And then he saw it.
A figure stood near the wreckage, one arm extended, a radiant golden Stand positioned behind him like a knight guarding its master. Its form was elegant yet powerful, armor-like plating reflecting light, its posture composed and unwavering.
The user was a boy, slightly older than Jovian, with sharp features and a composed expression that didn't match the chaos around him. His eyes scanned the area calmly, as if measuring the situation rather than reacting to it.
Jovian slowed his steps.
Another Stand user.
The boy noticed him immediately. Of course he did.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was tense—not hostile, but cautious. Two people who understood something others didn't, recognizing it in each other without needing words.
"…You can see it too," the boy said finally, his voice calm but certain.
Jovian didn't bother pretending otherwise. "Yeah. I can."
The golden Stand behind the boy shifted slightly, its presence firm and controlled. "Then you're not normal either."
"Guess not."
A faint smirk crossed the boy's face. "Good. I was starting to think I was the only one."
He stepped forward slightly, extending a hand—not aggressively, but with quiet confidence. "Alaric Duvant."
Jovian hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. "Jovian Jorwick."
The handshake was brief, but it carried weight. Recognition. Understanding.
Before either could say more, a sudden, low hum cut through the air.
Both of them froze.
Vital Mirage appeared instantly at Jovian's side. Alaric's Stand shifted into a defensive stance without command.
"…You feel that?" Jovian muttered.
Alaric's expression darkened slightly. "Yeah."
The sound grew louder—not from a single direction, but everywhere at once. The ground vibrated faintly, and the shadows between buildings seemed to stretch unnaturally.
Then, from the far end of the street, something moved.
A figure stepped forward slowly, hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed despite the tension in the air. Behind him, a dark, flickering Stand emerged—its form jagged and unstable, as if made of shifting shadows and embers.
The user stopped a few meters away, tilting his head slightly as he looked at them.
"…So I'm not the only one either," he said casually.
His tone was almost bored, but his eyes were sharp, calculating.
"Name's Iggy Solaro."
The Stand behind him pulsed, releasing a faint heat that warped the air around it.
Before Jovian or Alaric could respond, another voice cut in.
"You're all loud."
The three of them turned sharply.
Sitting atop a broken crate nearby was another boy, arms crossed, watching them with clear disinterest. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was undeniable. Behind him, a sleek, shadow-like Stand lingered, its form smooth and silent, barely distinguishable from the darkness around it.
"Lucien Moreau," he added flatly, as if introductions were a chore.
Silence fell for a moment.
Four Stand users.
All in the same place.
Jovian felt it immediately—that same tension from before, but different now. Not danger. Not yet. This felt like something else entirely.
A connection.
Or maybe something pulling them together.
Alaric glanced between them, his expression thoughtful. "This isn't a coincidence."
"No," Jovian said quietly. "It isn't."
Iggy scoffed lightly. "You think?"
Lucien didn't move, but his eyes sharpened slightly. "Something's coming."
That word lingered in the air.
Something.
Jovian clenched his fist slightly, Vital Mirage's glow intensifying in response.
Voss Calder.
The name surfaced in his mind again, heavier than before.
"…I met someone yesterday," Jovian said, breaking the silence. "He called himself Voss Calder."
The reaction was immediate.
Alaric's expression hardened.
Iggy's relaxed posture straightened slightly.
Even Lucien's gaze shifted, interest replacing indifference.
"…So it starts," Lucien muttered.
Jovian looked at each of them in turn, understanding dawning slowly but surely.
They weren't brought together by chance.
They were being drawn together.
By a common enemy.
Vital Mirage stepped forward slightly, its presence steady and resolute.
Jovian exhaled, his voice firm.
"Then we don't face it alone."
No one argued.
And just like that—
The path forward had changed.