EXT. NEW YORK CITY – SIDEWALK – DAY – 2025
The city hums with life. Cars rush by, people chatter, and somewhere distant, a saxophone plays under the city noise.
Peter Benjamin Parker walks down the busy street, his backpack slung over one shoulder. His eyes are distant, his thoughts turning over like gears.
Peter (thought): Aunt May only knew about the race… but she never said anything about a man who called himself JoJo…
He sighs, brushing a hand through his hair, lost in thought.
???: Excuse me are you Peter Benjamin Parker… or Peter Parker II, for short?
Peter stops cold. The sound of the city fades for a heartbeat.
He slowly turns around.
Behind him stands a man leaning casually against a lamppost. His light blue hair is messy, strands falling into tired, light-colored eyes that look like they've seen too much. His skin is pale, almost ghostly. A small earring gleams in his left ear.
Peter narrows his eyes, cautious.
Peter: And who are you supposed to be?
The man straightens, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Aldo: My name is Aldo J… I won't say my last name, because well, privacy and all that.
He steps forward, boots clicking against the pavement.
Aldo: Call me JoJo for short.
Peter blinks, his pulse quickening slightly.
Peter: JoJo…?
Aldo nods slowly, his tone turning serious.
Aldo: The main reason I'm here… is to talk to you, Mr. Parker.
The wind picks up, rustling Peter's jacket. A sense of unease tightens in his chest.
Peter: Talk to me? About what?
Aldo's eyes meet his sharp, weary, and knowing.
Aldo: About your grandfather… and the race that changed the world.
'LATER'
Warm light fills the small pizza place. The clatter of dishes and chatter of customers echoes softly in the background. A jukebox hums a faint 80s tune.
At a corner booth, Peter Parker sits across from Aldo J., a steaming pizza between them. Peter's hands rest uneasily on the table while Aldo leans back, calm, one arm over the backrest.
Aldo takes a slow sip of soda, setting the glass down with a faint clink.
Aldo: As I was saying again, Mr. Parker let me reintroduce myself properly.
He gestures lightly with his hand.
Aldo: My name is Aldo J… or JoJo for short. The main reason I'm talking to you right now… is because my great-grandfather was a friend of your grandfather during the Steel Ball Run event.
Peter's brows knit together, his tone sharp.
Peter: What do you mean friends?
Aldo exhales, his expression shifting, the weariness in his eyes deepening.
Aldo: The Steel Ball Run wasn't just a race, Mr. Parker. It was a war hidden beneath the cheers and the dust. A dark history.
He leans forward, voice low.
Aldo: My great-grandfather and your Grandfather were friends during the S.B.R and they were after something called the Holy Corpse a sacred relic said to hold divine power. They sought it to stop a certain enemy… a man who possessed a Stand.
Peter blinks, confused.
Peter: A… Stand?
Aldo smirks faintly, raising three fingers.
Aldo: There are three types of power scaling in this world things even the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj or that red witch you might've heard about have no knowledge of.
He counts them down with deliberate precision.
Aldo: Stand, Hamon or Ripple and The Spin.
Peter leans closer, listening despite himself.
Aldo: Let's start with Stands. A Stand is a psychic manifestation of a person's soul, their fighting spirit, or their intellect. It appears as a visible entity beside its user and has unique abilities tied to their nature.
He drops one finger.
Aldo: Second, Hamon or Ripple is an ancient martial art. It channels solar energy through controlled breathing, producing life force identical to sunlight. It's deadly to zombies, vampires any creature of darkness.
Another finger lowers.
Aldo: Finally… the Spin. A supernatural technique involving perfect rotation. Objects especially steel balls aare spun to generate immense rotational energy. It can heal, destroy, manipulate, even distort gravity itself.
A faint glow runs across Aldo's fingertips as he twirls a coin on the table it spins endlessly, defying friction.
Aldo: I'm also a wielder of the Spin myself.
Peter stares, speechless.
Peter: That's… a lot to take in.
Aldo: Yes, very much a lot.
He lets the coin stop spinning, his tone dropping, serious now.
Aldo: Now… I want to demand that you hand it over.
Peter's eyes narrow.
Peter: Hand what over?
Aldo sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair.
Aldo: If I told you… you wouldn't believe me.
The tension between them thickens. The hum of the restaurant fades, leaving only the quiet creak of the ceiling fan.
Peter watches Aldo carefully, his instincts prickling.
Peter: Try me.
Aldo's gaze hardens.
Aldo: The Holy Corpse… your grandfather sealed it.
Peter frowns, his voice steady but uneasy.
Peter: We don't have the Holy Corpse at our home. And yet, we never even knew it existed.
Aldo's expression darkens. Without a word, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a Strange bizarre item shimmer across its surface.
Aldo: If you don't have it… then how about this instead?
He slams it on the table.
'CLANK!'
The noise echoes through the restaurant, and a few heads turn before going back to their meals. Peter stares at the object confused, tense.
Peter: What is that supposed to be?
Aldo smirks faintly.
Aldo: A Stand Arrow.
Peter gulps, his voice catching.
Peter: Sta–what?
Aldo leans forward, lowering his tone, eyes gleaming with quiet authority.
Aldo: The Stand Arrow grants the user a Stand a power born from their soul. The ability it gives depends on one's attitude… and personality. It's random, unpredictable. A curse and a blessing both.
He pauses, his gaze locked on Peter.
Aldo: And I forgot to mention only Stand users can see other Stands. Normal people can't.
Peter's eyes dart nervously to the green arrow, realizing it hums faintly, like it's alive.
Aldo: So, if you're willing to fight me… you're already dead by now... Your already three steps away from our generation's curse, Peter Parker.
The silence stretches. The air feels heavy.
Peter exhales slowly, leaning back, trying to steady himself.
Peter: I don't want to fight either.
Aldo tilts his head slightly, curious.
Peter: But… I do want to hear the full story. About your great-grandfather and my grandfather. About what really happened during the Steel Ball Run.
Aldo studies Peter for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he nods.
Aldo: You know… there's a reason our parents named us after our ancestor?
He leans back, folding his arms, a faint shadow crossing his tired face.
Aldo: Fine.
He looks Peter straight in the eye.
Aldo (sigh): Then let me tell you the story of the Steel Ball Run.