He was dreaming, it was very pleasant dream. All his cares, all his worries were gone, nothing remained but peace.

For once, the weary soul of Giorno Giovanna was able to rest. Laying on a sea of green grass, a soft wind blew through his hair. It was obvious from where he had just been to where he was now… he had died. This time for real, the Throne of Heroes did not pull in his soul, he wasn't a hero in this timeline. When he had regained a physical body thanks to the power of the Grail, he had severed himself from the Throne with his Requiem, a theory he had always hoped were true.

Looks like he was right.

"Man, ya sure are late." a voice he hadn't heard in years caught his attention, and he opened his eyes.

The young man who had been one of his companions back in his original world, Narancia, stood over him. He looked exactly like he did back then, during their struggle against the first Boss. Giorno sat up in the grass, a peaceful smile on his face.

"You wouldn't believe the adventure I had to get here."

"We've all seen some bizarre stuff, why wouldn't we?" cut in a third voice, that of Bruno Bucciarati. Giorno looked around, realizing he was surrounded by familiar faces.

"Well then, care to hear the story, everyone?"

"Of course."

So he recounted his tale, his strange journey through another world, his second lifetime. His friends, his eternal companions listened intently, only occasional throwing out remarks about what they heard.

"And then, I woke up surrounded by you all." Giorno finished, closing his eyes and falling back against the soft grass. "Pretty crazy, wasn't it."

"This woman, Arturia you said?" Bruno spoke up, sitting down next to Giorno. "Is she still trapped, stuck in this 'Throne of Heroes' as… what did you call it, a Counter Guardian?"

"When I used my Requiem on myself, I became a real soul, not a copy made by the grail. I reset myself to 'zero,' as it were, that zero was to no longer be a Heroic Spirit on the throne." Giorno rose back up to a seated posture, resting his hand on his crossed legs. "I believe, without any evidence but this anecdote, that the same happened for her."

"I can see why you'd want to believe that." Bruno said, laughing. "It's just like you. Even after all this time away from us, you haven't changed at the core."

"I suppose not, one's nature doesn't change so easily." Giorno put his hand on Bruno's shoulder, then stood up. The other seated members of his Gang rose along with him. The dream he had from the beginning, the wish he wanted was finally granted.

He was back among his friends… so why did he feel so alone?

"If that girl of yours isn't in the throne anymore, what are ya' doing here?" Narancia punched Giorno lightly in the side, then laughed and turned away. As he walked off into the distance, he added one more thing. "Not like you to keep a girl waiting, Giorno."

"Even if I wanted to, the land the King of Britain goes to after death… Avalon would not permit me entry." Giorno trailed off, his expression hardening as his mind went elsewhere.

Bruno's hand slapped him hard on the back, bringing him back to the present. Giorno looked towards the man, his closest friend in the gang.

"When has something like that ever stopped you." Bruno looked as if he was about to scold a child, his expression deathly serious. "Is your resolve that weak?"

"No, I suppose it isn't." Giorno sighed, clenching his left hand into a fist. "Sorry, I wish I could have spent more time with you all."

"Don't worry about, just get going, idiot!" Narancia shouted from the distance.

Giorno felt it flow through him, his Requiem. A power he shouldn't still posses, but he ignored that reality, who said a dead man couldn't retain his Stand ability… it was a reflection of his soul anyways, wasn't it? He called on his strength, his strange, alien ability, for one more miracle.

The world around him faded, washing away into a sea of white. He was alone in a void, but he continued to move forward. He walked through the void, until finally, even the void began to fade away.

Giorno Giovanna stood on the shore of a beach, he had only been a few times, but it looked similar to the breaches of England. He was alone, not a soul around him.

He continued to walk.

Soon, he found himself at the base of a large tree. A soft, pleasant sound filled his ears. A young woman's calm breathing as she slept below the tree. As he approached her, her eyes slowly opened. His presence must of awoken her, as she clumsily rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She stared up at him in confusion, as if she had seen something that should never have been there. Which, of course, she had.

"My King, your faithful servant is here on your orders." he placed his hand over his heart and knelt next to her. "I do hope you haven't forgotten your order for me to remain by your side forever already?"

Tears fell from the woman's eyes, and she leapt into Giorno's embrace.

"You idiot..." she cried, rubbing her face against his chest. "What about your world, your friends..."

"None of that matters to me… if I'm not with you."

His lips pressed against hers, and the pair fell into the grass.

"A miracle even I couldn't produce, well done." Spoke a man in the distance, out of vocal range of the couple. Atop a ruined medieval tower, an eccentric wizard sat, his long white hair cascading behind him. "Those two sure are an interesting pair, wouldn't you say, Fou?"

The magician of flowers looked to the small, fluffy creature in his lap. But the familiar did not respond, it merely made a strange noise and curled itself up to sleep.

"Everyone gets a happy ending, huh?"

Despite the leader of the gang passing away, the usual power struggles of such a thing did not occur. Everyone easily accepted their new leader, considering his relationship to the previous boss. Passione continued on, the transition going on rather smoothly.

Around a year after the events of the final Holy Grail War in Fuyuki, one of the Gang's Three Officers, Taka Taniguchi, retired from her position, having become pregnant with one of her subordinate's child.

The ensuing struggle for who was to replace her ended in an all out brawl, with the only two remaining standing by the end being Boris and Kumagawa. In order to cease the hostilities within the gang, the Boss give them both the rank of Officer.

And so, Passione's Three Officers became four.

The Boss of Passione sat on a western styled sofa, which looked out of place in the traditional Japanese house he still lived in. Across from him, his old friend from middle school sat, a cigarette in his mouth.

Shinji Matou looked towards his best friend with his remaining eye. Instead of wearing an eyepatch, he elected to grow his bangs over the right side of his face instead, to hide the open socket. Next to him, leaning against his chair was an ornate cane with a wooden handle carved to resemble a fox. He didn't really need the cane, it was mostly for style, he said. The left sleeve of his coat hung loose and empty at his side.

"Any word from Tohsaka?" Shirou asked, bringing a glass of wine to his lips. "I'm sure she's anxious to leave her territory under your control while she studies abroad."

"Not recently, no." Shinji replied, motioning for a figure behind him to retrieve his drink from the table between them. The fox spirit turned demon, Tatsuki, looking exactly as she had over a year ago, handed her Master the cup, and then sat on the floor next to him, rubbing her face against his leg like a cat might. "Which is all the better for me, means I don't have to deal with her… grating personality."

"Would you two learn to get along already, I can't having my allies tear out each others throats." Shirou smiled, putting his glass down and standing up. "I wish I could chat longer, but I'm quite busy with the current restructuring of the gang, shall we get down to business?"

"Of course, I understand completely." Shinji replied, standing up and handing Shirou a small bag full of archaic gold coins. It wasn't as though Shirou was short on money, but coming across the kind of currency the mage community wished to trade in was becoming increasingly more difficult as time went on.

Shirou snapped his fingers, and a member of his gang entered the room with a long wooden box, slightly larger than a grown man's arm. He handed the box to Shirou, who then passed it to his friend.

"You have no idea how difficult it is to get a hold of something like this, you better be grateful."

Shinji placed the box on the table and opened it with his single hand. Within the box rested an arm, more accurately, it was a puppet's arm designed to look like a human arm from the outside. Only one magus could do work on this level in the modern day, and she was a notorious recluse. How Shirou was able to get hold of it was beyond Shinji's comprehension, but he thanked him all the same.

"It's perfect, I can't thank you enough."

"Always glad to help a friend." Shirou replied, heading out of the room. "Stay around if you like, or head home, it doesn't matter to me. But I have to get going, there's a meeting of the Officers downtown."

"Yeah, see you later, Shirou." Shinji closed the box and instructed Tatsuki to take it, then headed towards the door himself. "Let's go home, girls."

Tatsuki followed him closely. Almost like a shadow, a cloaked young woman slinked behind the two, revealing herself to have been present the entire time.

Twenty minutes later, Shirou disembarked from a taxi and headed into the building in front of him. It was a popular western style bar the gang often met at. As he entered, the familiar faces of his family filled his vision. Angelo, the gang's most loyal member, welcomed him inside and brought him to the table in the back room they had permanently reserved.

Boris and Kumagawa were already there, along with several others.

"You're late." A female voice scolded him. In the center of the room, behind a wall of empty dishes and beer glasses, was a young woman with blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore a red leather jacket and short cutoff jeans. Though her normal tube top shirt had been replaced with a regular tshirt as of late. "Don't blame me if there's nothing left for you."

"It's fine, I'm not that hungry, really." He replied, sitting down next to her.

The gang laughed, drank, and celebrated nothing in particular, it was just how they operated now. Less stern of a leader, Shirou controlled the gang with a firm kindness, rather than overwhelming force.

"After that, we sent two of them home in crutches and one in a bodybag, but they'll still coming at us." Kumagawa was recanting his story of a rival gang that had moved in on their turf to the rest of the gang. The gang was reportedly led by a powerful psychic who could make the air around him combust with a single thought. "If we don't send them a strong enough message soon, I'm worried we'll start to take casualties too."

"It's nothing to concern ourselves with, I shall crush them myself!" Mordred stood up, dramatically waving the chicken wing in her hand around like a sword.

"You'll do no such thing," Shirou looked at her, a gaze so powerful even she froze at the sight of it. Reluctantly she fell back into her seat. After the events of the Grail War, the mud had Incarnated her, similar to how Giorno had become living flesh once more. She was no longer a near invulnerable spirit, but an ordinary human incapable of even returning to spirit form.

But that wasn't why Shirou was concerned with her going out into battle, she was still far and away the strongest fighter they had. No, the reason for his concern was different. Placing his hand on her stomach, Shirou gazed into her eyes.

"It wouldn't just be you fighting out there."

The rest of the gang fell silent at his words, before erupting into serious reactions. Cheers, confused exclamations, questions, he could barely understand what they were saying.

"Boss, why didn't you tell me, I thought we were family?" Angelo pretended to sob into Shirou's arm, and the young Boss pushed him off, smiling.

"I wanted to let the whole family know, together. And now, I have."

How long would these peaceful days last, he wondered? He knew they couldn't last forever, but still.

He hoped they would.