Singapore 1939

Pain crashes through Joseph's legs in time with the waves to his right. It feels like he's been chasing this bastard for hours on this shoreline, moonlight glancing off the sea beside their chase. His breath is still steady, more than likely he can keep up 'til the sun rises.

But still, for a guy to keep up with a Hamon master like myself, he must be a vampire…

The cloaked man ahead of him seemed to glide with each step, kicking off the ground with each stride and floating like a paper airplane for a brief moment until his feet made contact with the sands below. Something unnatural was happening for sure, but Joseph could not quite figure out the trick.

He had barely gotten a glance at the man at the docks before he fluttered off. The figure was wearing a solid navy cloak, with some sewn images of feathers haphazardly dotting the wrinkled folds. Short black hair was pinned back with…something. This creep would've been hard to find barring the shallow breaths Joseph had heard while combing the drydocks. The Foundation had only told him there that there was someone snooping around their Singapore facility, not a particular description. The last thing Joseph needed after getting married was more trouble, and definitely no more vampires.

Snapping back into focus, Joseph notices that the distance between the two is shrinking. The sand from the figure's steps was getting in the joints of his prosthetic at this point.

Oh, c'mon, it's hard enough to get clean this thing, now I have to root around to get sand out? Better just trip him up here and get some questions answered.

"Hey bastard, eat clackers!" Joseph spits out to force the man ahead to swivel his head around to the left to try and see the threat.

Perfect.

Joseph breaths in the energy of the air around him, condensing his Hamon into the clackers wrapped around his prosthetic fingers. With a hooked throw, he aims the spinning marble-sized balls at the man's right leg, a blind spot. However, just before impact he hears the figure shout out something for the first time: "Fly Like an Eagle!"

At least he speaks English.

The clackers seem to stop midair, as if an invisible limb intercepted them. Any normal clackers would be sent flying into the ocean on their right, but stored Hamon crackles at it pours its energy into the unseen force. The man's left arm spasms wildly, and he collapses into the sand along with the depowered clackers.

Okay, so not a vampire, that's good. As long as whatever arm power he used isn't a blade of solid light or shoots lava this should be game, set, and match.

The man clambers up on his still twitching elbow and eyes Joseph fearfully. Under the full glow of the moon above him, Joseph could see two feathers resting on each ear, and an olive toned face in between. He seemed to be in his late 20's.

"Alright Birdman, start talking. Why are you so interested in a secret lab? I'm sure there's a gull's nest you could be raiding about a mile down this beach." Joseph eyes the man's face, hoping to squeeze some information out before he takes off again. The tide was rising, any more chases would be easier but who knows what other tricks this guy might have.

"What's it to you, you a cop or something?" The man has a low, gravelly, and taunting voice. Seems designed to piss someone off with the feigned ignorance behind it.

"How about this, I'll give you a challenge, if you say a word with the letter E before you give me the information I want, I'll jam this other Hamon clacker down your throat and we'll try again."

Alright, let's see what this guy's made of. I'm sure he didn't like that first sting.

"Hamon…Do you know a Jonathan?" The man's eyes sharpen.

Not good, I'm at an information disadvantage.

"Congrats on the challenge, but how do you know my grandfather?"

"I've only read his work, his work on-"

"Got it, Stone Masks, blah blah blah. Being a vampire isn't all that's it's cracked up to be. I mean look at you, you'd lose that great tan."

Great, another Straights.

"Oh but you have it all wrong. You see, I too am an archaeologist. I have quite the artifact, and I wanted to see if they all blended together."

"Well too bad for you, we make sure to smash every mask we find so freaks like you don't get their fang fetish kicks. Better luck next time."

"Well, Joestar, I still have the prime of my life to find as many temples as I can. You are only a temporary speed bump."

"Really, because as I see it, you have an asscrack full of sand and soon an ass full of my foot."
The man starts to quietly chuckle, before pounding his fist into the sand with a hearty laugh.

"W-what's so funny?"

"And here I thought you had me on the ropes. That little blast of Hamon gave me a scare. Turns out you really don't know the gift I've been given by the heavens."

"Oh I get it, you're a crazy one. Go ahead, show me what that power is."

Not good. He's got something up his sleeve, I just can't see it…

The man curls backward and jumps to his feet. "Since I know your name, how about I offer mine. It's Miller."

Joseph steps back defensively, eyeing the man's arms for stray movement. "Sounds like a damn Yankee name."

Instead of readying to attack, Miller settles back and rests his hands on his hips. There's a brief silence as he looks Joseph over, the waves beginning to lap the sand beneath them. "I'm an Illinois boy, what can I say? Fly Like an Eagle!" At that last word a massive force collides with Joseph's sternum, forcing the breath from his lungs. There was no movement from Miller, no tells.

I mean, besides him yelling the name of whatever power he's using. It's probably active now, so I'm really out of warnings now.

Joseph tries to roll back with the force of the prior blow, to get some distance and regain his breath. He gets about four feet back before the sensation of a giant beak clamps down on his left calf. This strength definitely feels vampiric, but last I checked they didn't have psychic powers. The unseen force drags Joseph across the sand before launching him into the air up and over Miller. Barely a second passes before Joseph lands face down, sand in his nose and mouth.

"You really don't see it, do you Joseph Joestar?" He can hear the man step slowly behind him.

I can just picture this bastard sneering at me.

Joseph scrambles onto his back, spitting out sand. "I can see you're definitely cheating."
"What can I say, I guess I'm more gifted than you." Miller began to approach, deliberately and with enough cockiness that Joseph briefly considered the age-old strategy of getting out of there and regrouping. The splashes of saltwater from Miller's steps give Joseph his opening.

"Well, Miller, I have another talent, too." Joseph begins to grip the newly wet sand as the tide laps the side of his pant leg, breathing in as deep as he can after the blow to the chest from earlier.
"And what's that?"

"The next thing you'll say is, 'Throwing sand? Isn't that childish, Jojo?'" With a flick of his wrist, he flings a handful of wet sand right at Miller's crotch.

Miller's hands reach down to block the cheap shot, "Throwing sand? Isn't that childish, Jojo?" And with that, Miller freezes in flash of recognition as Joseph spins his legs around to both stand and kick seawater in a horizontal splash at Miller's midsection, imbuing it with enough Hamon to subdue a man four times his size. Miller's eyes widen, as despite the Hamon charged water stopping a few inches short of his abdomen, both of his arms begin to shudder with Hamon.

"Now get ready for a fistful more, Miller!" Joseph lunges forward, focusing his energy into the knuckles of his right fist.

This is it, while his invisible friend is stunned. I have to knock him out cold, then I can deal with whatever monster he's hiding.

"Not good enough, Jojo!" Miller tumbles backwards into the foaming waves at his feet, before a force propels him straight upwards. "I'm done sparing you, it's plain to me you don't see my Stand." His body seemed to hover above Joseph's, just a foot or two out of reach.

I can still nail him with my clackers, I should still have a second or two with his arms weak! Now!

Joseph begins to spin his clackers for a final blow, before Miller spins to face Joseph midair. Like a hawk diving in on prey, Miller descends feet first, shouting "You're out of time Jojo! Fly Like an Eagle, Time Slip!" A flash of aquamarine seems to drown the air around Joseph, and the feeling of massive talons digs into his gut and clutches the organs within. There is no blood nor tearing muscle, but it's as if instead of flesh being ripped, Joseph himself was being torn from reality. He sees a massive man before him, feet like talons and arms shaped like hawk heads. The face is desiccated and stitched, staring intently into Joseph's eyes, its bare skinned torso etched with Roman numerals. Behind it, two large wings adorned with golden feathers. Instead of the beaches of Singapore, there is only a stream of aquamarine and this figure.

And once more, in a mere moment, the man disappears and Joseph is dragged into a current, helpless and paralyzed. If there was any sensation but rushing air, it might be possible to tell how long he had been flying. It seems like forever to Joseph, and yet….

Time passes…

I wonder how Suzi Q is getting along. I did get that call from Speedwagon kind of suddenly, I'd hate to leave a widow like Granny…

And longer…

I might've needed to phone Lisa Lisa for help on this, but I was kind of waiting 'til this whole Mother's Day fiasco blew over. I mean, I just figured out she's my mom, can't I be forgiven for not sending a card?

And longer…

I swear, whatever that Stand was is just plain cheating. You can at least see Hamon. Definitely feel it. Hopefully I get my rematch, I think I have a plan now… Does this count as running away?

And longer…

Is there a draft in here?

There isn't. But Joseph is being pulled somewhere. Different than the current dragging him for god knows how long.

Y'know I'm really coming around to aquamarine.

Sadly, the rushing color around him parted into bright sunlight, and the sounds of bustling crowds and roaring waves flooded Joseph's ears. He feels air rushing as if he was falling-

Singapore 1988

-And Joseph lands face first into a gravel walkway of a boardwalk.

A deep voice groans in front of him. "Yare yare…" Another voice, smooth and wavering in tone says something else in response. It's all in Japanese, but Joseph can make out at least a name, said so saccharine it's plainly a deception. He hears "Jojo".

End of Chapter 0