"Can fate really not be changed?"
Dawn gazed at the vast sea he had created, his spirits far from high.
He wondered whether the fate of JOJO could truly be rewritten.
Abbacchio should have died on Sardinia, but because of an outsider like him, he had lived a little longer, only to die in Rome.
That showed that, in some sense, fate could be changed in small ways.
The price was that everyone had nearly died beneath Ghiaccio's mold attack.
Anyone who tried to challenge fate needed to be prepared to die.
Dawn took a deep breath. If fate could not be changed, how could he obtain the Insect Arrow?
Would he be rejected by the Insect Arrow, just like Diavolo, and end up unable to live or die?
A powerful sense of unwillingness rose in Dawn's heart. Abbacchio's death had sounded the alarm.
This was fate's warning, a predetermined ending that no one could change!
His anguish reached its peak. Dawn lit a cigarette, but it still did nothing to calm him. Even his fingers began to tremble slightly.
"What's... happening to me?"
Dawn stood where he was, completely unaware that a long string of text, like garbled code, had appeared above his head and was flashing wildly.
Giorno immediately grew serious. Mr. Dawn had said this should be his Stand ability.
But why did it look so bizarre?
The flickering gave the impression that the whole world was fake, as though a system crash could happen at any moment. It struck Giorno as utterly absurd.
"What's wrong with Mr. Dawn?"
Trish asked anxiously, "Hasn't the enemy already been defeated?"
Bucciarati temporarily set aside his grief over Abbacchio's death and said, "It seems... his Stand is going berserk."
"His Stand is going berserk?"
"That's right. But it usually happens just after a Stand awakens. Once someone has full control of it, this sort of thing rarely happens."
Giorno looked at Dawn again. "Bucciarati, Mr. Dawn doesn't look like someone whose Stand just awakened."
"I know. Regardless, let's get Mr. Dawn into the turtle's safe room to rest while we drive."
Bucciarati approached Dawn and reached out, trying to communicate with him.
"Mr. Dawn?"
Bzzzt—
The sound of electricity crackled in the air. The small Cloud Dragon, only a few dozen feet long, stirred up the remaining bolts of lightning, warning Bucciarati not to come closer.
Bucciarati opened his mouth to explain, but then the flashing text above Dawn's head suddenly changed, drawing everyone's attention.
The text gradually became orderly and legible, glowing with flickering golden light.
[Stand: Beyond Imagination: Scales of Resolve] [This ability is a temporary product born from a Stand running wild. It can only be used three times. Exceeding that limit will bring about severe, unpredictable consequences. Offer your price and take your wish. This is a transaction no one can overturn.]
The Stand's rampage stopped, and Dawn slowly came back to himself.
A moment ago, he had felt as though his head were splitting apart. The world before him had begun flickering in and out, leaving him in unbearable agony.
Fortunately, he had made it through.
The little Cloud Dragon happily circled Dawn. He patted its cool little head, and the delighted Cloud Dragon did a somersault in midair.
"Mr. Dawn, you were acting very strangely just now. Also, what's that golden text above your head?"
Bucciarati didn't move any closer, but instead alerted him to it.
Only then did Dawn notice the text above his head, flickering with golden light. His eyes widened, and a surge of joy welled up inside him.
It was a golden ability!
The first golden ability in history!
Dawn eagerly read through the ability description. It was a shame he could only use it three times, but that was no great loss.
The ability was only a temporary one, born from his Stand running wild. It was already a great deal that it didn't take up a permanent slot.
Dawn wasn't greedy. Besides, Dragon Tamer and Wasting Time were both excellent abilities. They were both purple, and more than enough to help him handle most battles.
[Requesting a transaction]
In Dawn's mind, [Stand: Beyond Imagination: Scales of Resolve] trembled violently. It had sensed the presence of countless lingering obsessions here.
[Requesting a transaction]!
[Requesting a transaction]!!
[Requesting a transaction]!!!
"Shut up!"
Dawn's temper flared, but he decided to find out what was going on and why Scales of Resolve was reacting this way.
With a single thought, a huge tide of obsessions surged toward him, crashing relentlessly against his mind.
Dawn's temples throbbed. He could only rub them as he searched the sea of obsessions for useful information.
Help, there are so many dead people here...
Why didn't you say anything? Why did we even bother, brothers...
If I can just hold on a little longer... Secco will definitely come save me...
I can't breathe!
I'm sorry, Bucciarati. I can't hold on...
"Found it!"
Dawn's eyes lit up. He chose that particular obsession, and a moment later, information about its owner entered his mind.
[Abbacchio, male, Stand User, born in Italy...]
"Fate can't be changed? I refuse to believe it!"
Dawn steeled himself and focused.
[Stand: Beyond Imagination: Scales of Resolve]
Activated.
An unknown place.
An unfamiliar street.
The whole world was gray. Not a single person was on the street; only a red bus was parked there.
Abbacchio sat at a table by the roadside, elegantly eating the food on his plate.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone searching for something beneath the tablecloth.
Abbacchio set down his wine, lifted the tablecloth, and bent over to look.
"Officer, what are you looking for?"
The man's face was impossible to make out. He didn't turn around, but continued searching through the broken wine bottle with a pair of tweezers, trying to find something.
"There was a robbery here last night. I'm looking for a weapon—the broken pieces of a beer bottle. There might be fingerprints on them."
Hearing this, Abbacchio couldn't help saying, "You probably won't find any fingerprints. No, even if you do, the culprit has connections with a lawyer. All your efforts will be wasted, and you might even bring trouble on yourself."
The man still didn't look up. He calmly replied, "Of course I know that. But I'm after the outcome, not the truth for its own sake."
"Pursuing the truth for its own sake inevitably makes people want to take shortcuts. When they take shortcuts, they lose themselves and miss the truth."
"What I pursue is the process of seeking the truth, Abbacchio."
Confusion appeared on Abbacchio's face.
"How do you know my name? Who are you?"
The man raised his head and smiled mysteriously.
Abbacchio suddenly clutched his head in pain. He seemed to remember something. His expression changed, and he abruptly stood up and headed toward the bus by the roadside.
"I have to get on that bus. I have to go back. Bucciarati still needs me."
The man looked at Abbacchio and spoke softly. "But, Abbacchio, have you forgotten? You came here on that very bus. This is the end of the line..."
Before you continue