Emperor of Heaven Clark Kent

Emperor of Heaven—Clark Kent.

Giorno's voice was calm, as though he were telling a story that had nothing to do with him.

"It happened many years ago."

He gently rubbed the brooch in his hand, the flames dancing in the fireplace reflected in his pupils.

"My father—Dior Kent—died."

"?!"

Clark abruptly shot to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.

Dior could...

Die?

His blue eyes widened, his lips trembling, yet he could not utter a single word, as if he had suddenly lost the ability to speak.

For eight-year-old Clark, death was clearly still something he could not comprehend.

Even so, the pressure that word placed upon him was immense.

The brother he spent every day with, his closest friend bound to him by an unbreakable bond.

Could die?

Dior on the other side was clearly calmer, but the fingers suddenly gripping the sofa armrest tightly betrayed the turmoil in his heart.

No one could remain calm upon learning of their own death, much less eight-year-old Dior.

"Giorno!" Locke could not help speaking up. "Don't joke about this."

How could he possibly let something like that happen?!

"I don't know either."

His gaze swept over Locke's tense profile. Giorno seemed to understand what Locke wanted to ask and said, "That day, Grandpa, you only said, 'I'm heading out,' and then never came back."

"Only Uncle Clark returned."

"I asked countless times."

Giorno's voice carried a weariness that did not belong to his age. "But Uncle Clark always kept silent about the truth behind those two things."

"Later, Uncle Clark sent me to Italy—to my biological mother's family."

"But a year later, he suddenly appeared again. Without explanation, he took me to Metropolis."

The flames in the fireplace suddenly leaped higher, casting Giorno's shadow onto the wall and twisting it into a savage shape.

"At the top floor of the Manhattan Building in Metropolis, he pressed down on my shoulders, pointed at the brightly lit city below, and said—"

Giorno cleared his throat.

Imitating that cold voice from his memories:

"The world will ultimately belong to the Kent family."

"Giorno, Dior will be proud of you."

Dior's red eyes contracted as he stared at Clark in disbelief.

This big idiot was that powerful?!

"Over the next eight years..."

Giorno gave a bitter smile and shook his head. "Uncle Clark ruled nearly the entire world with absolute power."

"He proclaimed himself the Emperor of Heaven, ruling with an iron fist and suppressing all resistance, claiming he would purge humanity of the seven deadly sins!"

"Mm..."

"Using the cruelest methods."

"Everything in the world became orderly, tranquil, and peaceful beneath his will."

"No one could stand it, least of all me."

"So after secretly escaping, I joined the organization resisting the Emperor."

"The Anti-Injustice Society Republican Party."

Boom—!

Lightning tore across the night sky, instantly illuminating the entire living room and casting shifting, unpredictable shadows across the four faces.

The rain outside grew heavier, raindrops the size of beans hammering against the farm's metal roof with deafening crackles.

The gale swept curtains of rain across the wheat fields, bending the unharvested golden stalks until they could not straighten.

An eerie silence filled the living room, broken only by the crackling firewood in the fireplace and the rain outside.

Locke stood before the fireplace, the firelight casting his tall figure onto the wall, where it swayed with the flickering flames.

Sitting stiffly at the dining table, Clark nervously fiddled with the bouquet Giorno had created.

His senses were becoming sharper and sharper. The rain outside, the creaking metal sheets on the distant barn stirred by the wind—all of it flooded into his ears at once. Yet none of it compared to the pressure Giorno's words had just placed on him.

Even though he had not understood much.

He could still tell.

In the future, he seemed to become a very, very bad villain.

After having Star Platinum make a cup of hot cocoa and hand it to Giorno, Locke glanced up at the family portrait hanging on the wall—

Dior wore an unwilling expression as Locke held him in place, while Clark stood beside them with a foolish grin.

Martha and Jonathan stood behind them, one on each side.

Come to think of it...

"Giorno."

"What about your other uncles..." Locke hesitated for a moment. "Or aunts?"

Giorno tilted his head, the three golden donuts atop his head swaying gently with the movement.

A puzzled expression appeared on his face.

"Other uncles?"

Didn't Dad only have one brother, Clark?

His eyes suddenly widened, and he nearly spilled the hot cocoa in his hand. "Wait. Grandpa, did you leave me other backup plans?!"

"God knows how badly our organization needs manpower right now!"

He rose excitedly and paced back and forth through the living room. "Right now, Professor Charles is holding everything together by himself. If there are other uncles..."

"Just Uncle Clark alone was already powerful enough to rule the world. Then the other uncles..."

"Hey, kid." Dior could not help rolling his eyes. "Aren't you thinking too much?"

He pointed at himself, then at Clark. "There are only a few of us here. Where would any other uncles come from?"

But Giorno paid him no heed and sank into his own thoughts.

"Defeat the dictator Clark, and world peace will—"

"Stop!"

Locke rubbed his temples. Star Platinum promptly pressed a hand onto Giorno's shoulder. "Calm down, kid."

"I was just asking."

Still, he seemed to understand now.

The timeline Giorno came from was probably, perhaps, maybe...

Not the same one as theirs.

Or rather...

A multiverse?

After all, the system said it would send him a child every few years. How could it be that in Giorno's future, he still had only Dior as a son?

Unless the system had crashed again?

Thinking of the Charles Giorno had mentioned earlier, Locke grew curious. "So, Giorno, how did you travel through—"

"I..."

Just as he was about to speak, Giorno's body suddenly began flickering with a faint golden light, his outline gradually turning transparent.

Even Gold Experience dissolved into golden dust and vanished.

"Sorry, Grandpa."

He lowered his head to look at his increasingly translucent hands, a helpless smile pulling at his lips. "Time's up."

Looking up at Locke, Giorno's golden eyes were filled with reluctance.

"Grandpa... Maybe the future has already changed, or maybe my time has run out."

"Anyway, listen to me first, Grandpa."

"Be careful of our barn."

"Today is a crucial turning point. The professor said that in this storm, my Martha and Jonathan grandparents, whom I never got to meet, they..."

Giorno's voice became faint and drifting, his figure rippling like a reflection in water. He sighed and said regretfully:

"Looks like I can't say any more. Then this is where I'll leave it, Grandpa."

"I hope that when I wake up again..."

Boom!

Lightning flashed, illuminating the boy's gradually transparent smile.

"...I'll see a bright future."

Crack—!

His figure completely transformed into countless golden motes, drifting toward the ceiling like raindrops flowing upstream before fading into the air.

The living room fell silent.

Only the unfinished cup of hot cocoa and the lingering warmth on the sofa proved that a donut-haired boy had once truly been there.

"Uncle Locke." Clark's voice was tight. "Will I really become such a terrible bad guy?"

Without answering immediately, Locke merely bent down and picked up the blue ladybug Giorno had left behind, his thumb gently tracing the exquisite pattern on its back.

Mm.

It was alive.

He pinned it to his chest and said softly:

"No."

"Because from this moment on, history has changed."

Summoning Star Platinum, he pushed open the front door.

His gaze pierced through the curtain of rain toward the barn not far from the house.

There...

A massive black shadow was silently rising.