JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Part 9- Shattered Requiem

Tokyo. The year is 2035. The city was alive with light — neon towers stabbing the night sky, billboards screaming advertisements so vivid they drowned the stars. People bustled through the streets, laughing, shouting, arguing, each step echoing against the synthetic hum of the metropolis. To the ordinary eye, it was just another restless night in the largest city on Earth. But beneath the glass towers and digital veneer, something unseen stirred. For decades, Stands — the mysterious manifestations of human spirit — had existed in the shadows. Most of the world remained ignorant, dismissing reports of impossible battles as rumor, conspiracy, or hallucination. Yet in Tokyo, things had changed. Whispers of "Stand accidents" filled underground networks. Entire city blocks collapsed without warning, as if erased from existence. Survivors spoke of invisible hands, or voices that bent reality like glass. The government hushed it. Corporations investigated it. Families buried it. And at the center of it all, one man watched the city with contempt. Dr. Haruto Kurotsuki stood on the rooftop of the Shinjuku Arcology, gazing across the skyline. His sharp black coat fluttered in the wind, his gloved hands gripping the silver cane that supported his thin frame. Behind him, the faint outline of a Stand — a tall, faceless figure wrapped in chains of light — shimmered in the darkness. "Humanity believes these powers are gifts… but they are curses," Kurotsuki whispered. His voice was cold, almost reverent. "Individual wills clashing endlessly. A cycle of chaos. Suffering. Death. I will end it." He closed his eyes, recalling the moment his wife and child had been swallowed by a Stand catastrophe years ago — their bodies gone, their existence erased like ink dissolved in water. That night, something inside him broke. And in its place, something new was born. "Null Requiem…" he muttered, and the figure behind him tilted its faceless head. "Soon, the world will be one. A single order. A silence eternal." Far below, in the crowded streets, a boy named Jorimaru Joestar hurried through the crowd, unaware that destiny was already coiling around him. He was no hero — not yet. Just a young man chasing distractions, running from a past he refused to confront. But fate has always had a way of dragging Joestars into battles larger than themselves. And tonight, under the buzzing glow of Tokyo's neon sky, the gears of a new bizarre adventure began to turn.