Capitolo Terzo: Conquista (9)

Tired, confused and… upset.

Giorno Joestar was in the strangest of moods compared to anything he had felt before this point. As their brief stop had ceased and their plane had resumed its trip to reach his aunt and cousin, the young blond found his capacity to keep awake somewhat difficult. His mother had already told him that he could catch a nap despite his interest to keep awake and ask questions that were being barely answered.

His father was slightly tense- Giorno had never seen his dad behave so guarded around someone that was called an ‘ally’, yet he couldn’t help but be wary himself around the beautiful red-haired lady who was giving him odd looks. Santana looked ready to jump her at any action she may commit, which further heightened the foreboding sense of unease around this new ‘friendly woman’. The only one that wasn’t reacting as negatively was his mother. Hannah kept a surprisingly calm and polite look while regarding ‘Baba Yaga’, and that seemed to be the thing that kept the redhead at bay.

There was just that glimpse of nervousness whenever the mysterious woman’s eyes lifted up to the motherly figure, and each brief ‘skirmish’ between eyes always ended with Baba looking elsewhere out of pure dread. Still, the flight was quite uneventful. The idea was that they would make three more stops before reaching India, going first to Tsaritsyn, then Fort-Alexandrovsky and finally stopping by Kabul before going beyond the Indian border. To Giorno, that was half-a-gibberish explanation since he hadn’t much knowledge of these places, but he understood that those were cities between their current location and their destination.

He had glanced at maps of India, but never once he had gone there before now. He heard from Georgie it was a bit weird since it was a British Dominion that was undergoing an ‘intense reform’, something that their fathers had been pushing for years now, and that things were quite turbulent due to that. Nothing extreme, but people were always moving, always working, always doing their best to keep up with the extensive upkeep of maintaining the country afloat. Back in the plane, Giorno’s lips parted to let out a yawn. Despite the loudness of the engine, the fact he was still shaken by the intense skirmish with that scary man and the general sense of unease at the notion that something could go wrong for a reason or another, the boy’s sleepiness caught up to him and dragged him away from his semi-conscious behavior.

Closing his eyes, the blond felt the stress falter together with his strength as he felt pulled away from that small space and into his own dreams. He liked to dream, it was quite the nice place where to spend time when resting and… it was different than anything others had. His mother had told him it was unique, same for his father- Giorno hadn’t told anyone else about it, even Georgie knew close to nothing about it. Not because he was worried about it, but rather because he found this too much of a safe place to bring up others' knowledge. It was his little haven, his happy place when trying to find peace in his own mind and sleep.

As he opened his eyes in that ethereal palace made by space, stars and cosmic dust, he was met with a kingly location where his small throne between two bigger ones existed. A castle within his dreams. A place he could sit and think and then remember. Some would call it mere imagination at work due to his age, but Giorno had been told by his parents this was more than just that. And he was sure of it himself. The sense of calm and quiet this place gave him was too real to be a figment of his imagination. That the lucid wandering was actually too intense to be born from his creativity.

Yet that day something was different about the throne.

Some pieces of the wall and the columns were… missing? A frown adorned Giorno’s face as he gave a look around. He was slightly confused by the sight and even more as dark mist emerged from the broken windows, surrounding Giorno.

Blinking again, a panicking Giorno was about to look around once again, but his effort was stopped when he felt a pair of hands grasping at his shoulder. Now, that gesture should have frightened him since the idea of an unfamiliar presence touching him like that was invasive. But this interaction actually soothed him as he glanced behind and saw a figure that had his own frame and yet looked like a… knight? Its armor was golden, and yet the overall design was childish in nature. It looked more like a fancy outfit to play being knights rather than being one. Yet, he could tell the figure was a protector. His protector. Those violet eyes- they flashed a determined pledge to protect him.

“Hahahahahahaha!”

A loud distorted laugh pulled his attention away from this development and he saw the real culprit of the damage inflicted upon the throne room. The shroud of darkness soon condensed in a single deformed entity with eyes and face that were familiar to Giorno, to the point, he quickly took a step back away from it. A grin appeared on the vicious monster, as what was once Grigori Rasputin stood in front of him.

“They- They thought they could have killed me so easily. But I- I am more- I wasted so much in my life to give up like this,” The man muttered angrily, then smiled jovially at Giorno. “You- you will be my puppet. My shell. My revenge.”

“No!”

This monster was the same that had hurt Uncle Jojo and that he couldn’t allow to stand. Yet, he was alone before it, and… he couldn’t do it. He knew he was too inexperienced, too weak. But his unease faltered as he felt the hands on his shoulders squeeze again. The blond turned to look at the armored being and could feel it smile at him. The figure then nodded, Giorno’s eyes widening as he saw it disappear in himself and as the Shadow enclosed towards him, his frame was suddenly coated in yellow light. A moment, he felt a rush of energy and his instinct told him what to do next.

He jumped up, finding himself several meters away from the ground and staring at a stunned demon trying to make sense of what was going on.

“You… what?”

Giorno’s eyes lit in awareness. This armor, it was giving him a chance. He wasn’t powerful or anything, but he was strong enough to deal with this monster. His mind went back to what he saw his father and uncle use many times. The way they attacked with punches and kicks. He wanted to try, and Giorno got his chance as he managed to easily get within range and land his fist onto the shadow’s side. The punch didn’t pack enough heat to cause any substantial physical damage, however the same didn’t extend to the ‘effects’ it created. In fact, the fist had glowed brightly as he cocked it before striking with it and the energy spread through the monster’s body, tearing into part of its body.

It roared in pain and the entity glared at him with unveiled hatred.

“You little mutt! I shall devour you!”

The tendrils coming for him were fast, but Giorno was faster. He felt his body was moving quick enough to mimic with extreme precision some of the moves he saw his father go with during training. The shadow growled, the monstrous man trying his hardest to reach him but failing to do so as Giorno effortlessly shredded into those with his attacks. He knew it wasn’t his physical input, but the energy harnessed by the armor itself. After a few minutes of chipping away the shadow piece by piece, Giorno felt it was time to end it. So he shifted around, setting himself right behind the suffering beast and jumped at it. His right fist was glowing with righteous justice, the energy packed within this last hit exceeding the input exerted by the previous strikes. The attack landed and Giorno felt the armor yell in pride a single word which he couldn’t help but nod at.

“MUDA!”

What an odd word! He was sure he heard it somewhere else, but he just couldn’t recall on the spot. Still, the damage dealt to the monster was evident between its convulsing frame and the screams coming from it.

“No no no! My plans, my ambitions- my dreams! My great dreams- ALL GONEEEEEEEE!!”

The shadow shivered in clear pain and soon it collapsed, dispersing into particles which disappeared shortly after. With this threat now dealt with, Giorno focused on his bizarre armor and admired it. He felt so strong and yet he couldn’t hold himself from falling on one knee. Confusion returned, yet it became apparent what was going on as soon as a whisper reached his ear, the voice being the same as his.

“I’m draining too much from you.”

Oh.

The armor disappeared and the drain vanished completely, leaving Giorno winded but overall fine. He offered a small smile as he approached his own throne, sitting down on it and… closing his eyes. He felt tired, yes, but he was happy like that and he could now catch some good rest.

After all, the journey up ahead was far from over.

-------d-d-d-d--------

Two days have gone and yet I could tell things had properly settled down.

I wasn’t still sure if this was a good idea but… the witch had done nothing to warrant any serious interaction. Well, beyond the fact she was suddenly interested in Giorno and had prompted quite the ballistic Hannah through that behavior. Magic or not, the redhead couldn’t do anything to get to him and yet I could tell that wasn’t her real purpose.

I looked back at what we talked about, the deal we made and I could tell even then that she hadn’t been lying. The witch’s decision, which was surprising to me due to how the legend of Baba Yaga was entrenched within Russia, centered around ‘freedom’. An attempt to find a way to break away from the tradition and do something else. Something had forced her hand, but it happened in such a way that she didn’t feel offended by it. No, Baba Yaga almost sounded like she yearned for that when she staked her claim and her request.

She wanted to travel- she wanted to be around us. Her point was that we were ‘what she had been looking for in centuries’, and while that sounded immensely ominous, she reasoned it was more than just mere spying. It was understanding. The ones she was looking for were fellow individuals which had the potential for immortality. The news struck me odd since I had expected for my lifespan and Hanna’s to be quite high due to our grasp of hamon, but I didn’t realize it was getting to that point.

Then again, my wife’s unique biology and my own spiritual and physical might may have been determining factors for both of us to reach that sort of elevation. I had suspected something like this, but the news provided a solid understanding about the overall situation. At least now I can cross another line off the bucket list of ‘one-upping original Dio in something’.

Still, with Jonathan still recovering from his wounds and yet happy for having found a couple of souvenirs to bring to his wife, I felt like the last thing needed for us was to bring him to Madras and then hopefully get back home. I didn’t expect things to go as smoothly as I wanted, but that was the expectation.

We managed to pass through the last few stops in Russia, make it through into Afghanistan and ultimately reach Peshawar for a quick break before going for Hyderabad to have a brief chat with Nizam Asaf Jah VI about potential expansion of his agricultural funds. Being one of the more reformist figures within the core of India, I wanted him to have an advantage in handling the economy compared to more reactionary figures. Maybe also influence his son, Osman Ali Khan, into being more progressive in his take on reforms.

All in all, I couldn’t ignore this chance that opened plenty of doors, and I had the advantage of playing on a ‘friendly turf’ since India had long been turned into a Dominion by my own pressure. The issues of rebellion had lessened with just a handful still complaining about the lack of independence. Autonomy had been implemented, a reorganization of the regions had gone through and a general effort to ‘civilize’ some of the more upsetting practices was still ongoing to make sure that, once decolonized, India was going to be freer from its worst flaws. I didn’t expect it to be a shining pearl within Asia, but it was going to be a land where there would be less deaths each month.

Baba Yaga was a bit of an unexpected guest to have onboard, but she behaved as she preferred to be ‘a tourist’ and see places that she never thought of being brought to. She looked around, studied the unusual garbs used by the locals and asked questions about the culture of current-day Pakistan. I couldn’t offer much since I hadn’t been there in this region, but I could tell things were less tense than those had been a decade or so ago.

And as this ‘jolly trip’ went on, I was unaware a new force of evil was soon to be awakened due to something I didn’t have around the first time I visited the subcontinent. Or rather… someone.