From the highest structure in the rail yard, unseen by all—
Voss Calder watched.
Below, the four of them stood victorious, their Stands still active, their breathing heavy but controlled. They had improved. Adapted. Survived.
Exactly as expected.
Behind him, a presence stirred.
Obsidian Fang.
Its form remained partially hidden, its aura heavy, oppressive, as though reality itself rejected its existence.
"They're growing," Voss said quietly.
The Stand did not respond. It didn't need to.
His gaze remained fixed on Jovian.
"The grandson…" he murmured.
There was something different about him. Something familiar.
Something… irritatingly persistent.
Voss turned away slowly.
"Let them struggle," he said.
"Let them believe they have control."
Below, Jovian looked up suddenly, a sharp feeling cutting through him.
For a moment—
Their eyes almost met.
But the presence vanished.
Gone.
Like it was never there.
Jovian frowned, unease settling deep in his chest.
"…He's watching us," he said quietly.
Lucien didn't look surprised.
"I know."
The wind passed through the empty rail yard, carrying dust and silence with it.
And far beyond their reach—
The true enemy was still waiting.