Chereads / DC: Jojo's Bizzare Adventure / Chapter 20 - Always Bet On The Plot.

Chapter 20 - Always Bet On The Plot.

Yes, it's a JJK reference, also I just realized. If Sukuna's last finger is in a box, does that mean that all Sukuna can see is endless black and no sound? Yuji put him in hell. 

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Jorno Jovanna crashed through the side of yet another building, his body ricocheting off the steel girders and concrete walls as he fell. His muscles screamed in protest, his bones rattling from the impact. As he plummeted toward the ground, he clenched his teeth, raising his hand in a desperate gesture.

"King!"

In an instant, the King of the Clouds appeared beside him, invisible to the naked eye, and slowed his descent by manipulating the air. Jorno's fall eased as he hovered just above the rubble, landing lightly with the grace of someone far less injured than he was. He winced, coughing up a spatter of blood.

His body was reaching its limit. King could absorb most of the damage, but it wasn't enough. He felt the heat from Grayven's Omega Beams coursing through his connection with King—his Stand had taken the brunt of the damage, but Jorno felt every searing ache as if his skin had been burned. His body trembled, and his vision blurred momentarily from the exertion.

"Thanks, King..." he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. He had never encountered anything that could actually hurt King before. Without his Stand, he'd have been dead long ago.

From the rubble of the building he had just decimated, Grayven stepped forward. The New God's imposing figure loomed like a shadow, his white hair streaked with blood, his eyes cold and calculating. Despite the damage he had sustained, Grayven looked far from finished. His movements were steady, his strength undiminished.

"Are you ready to accept death, child?" Grayven's voice boomed as he surveyed the battlefield. His tone was full of contempt, as though the fight were already over. "You've tried your best, struggled valiantly, but in the end, it's meaningless. Darkseid has decreed that this planet is his, and your resistance is nothing but a minor irritation."

Jorno steadied himself, his knees weak but unyielding. "C'mon, man," he quipped, grinning through the pain. "You think I'd give up that easy? I've got a job to do, y'know."

Grayven's lips curled into a sneer. This human boy was nothing like the others. His confidence—no, his defiance—was irritating beyond measure.

"You've overstayed your welcome, mortal. Prepare to die," Grayven growled, before launching himself forward, his fists clenched and crackling with energy.

Jorno barely had time to react before Grayven was upon him, his movements almost too fast to track. King of the Clouds materialized in front of Jorno, blocking a series of rapid, devastating punches that would have pulverized any normal fighter. The force of each blow sent tremors through the ground, dust, and debris swirling around them.

Grayven's fists connected with King's crystalline body sparks flying with every impact. The Stand managed to block the hits, but Grayven was relentless, launching a barrage of punches that shook the very air around them. Jorno gritted his teeth, the pressure from the blows reverberating through his connection with King.

"You're getting slower, Grayven," Jorno taunted, his voice strained but steady. "Maybe the old man should sit this one out."

Grayven's eyes flashed with anger. He hadn't expected this child to hold out for so long, but more than that, the longer they fought, the more dangerous Jorno became. The boy was adapting—growing stronger with each passing moment.

With a snarl, Grayven threw a devastating punch, aimed directly at Jorno's head. King of the Clouds intercepted the blow, their fists meeting in a clash of raw power. The shockwave from the impact shattered nearby windows, and the force of the punch sent cracks rippling through the ground.

But Jorno was ready. With a smirk, he snapped his fingers. "Now."

In an instant, King manipulated the air around them, creating a nearly invisible compressed air wall just in front of Grayven's face. The sudden change in pressure caused a powerful shockwave that threw Grayven backward, sending him skidding across the ground.

Grayven growled in frustration, but as he pushed himself up, Jorno raised his hand, mimicking a gun. His eyes narrowed with concentration.

"Bang."

Jorno fired a compressed air bullet from his fingertips, the high-speed projectile flying toward Grayven with lethal precision. The air whistled as it tore through the space between them.

Grayven, moving purely on instinct, dodged to the side just in time, the bullet barely grazing his shoulder. "Tch... magic..." Grayven muttered under his breath, annoyed by the invisible attacks. Whether it was magic or some strange manipulation of the air, it didn't matter. Jorno's abilities were dangerous. And worse still, the hits that had once been minor annoyances were beginning to sting.

"Can't see my Stand?" Jorno taunted, grinning. "Sounds like your problem."

Grayven's patience was running thin. He had fought many enemies in his life, from gods to men, but this child was pushing him further than he had expected. Each of Jorno's air bullets was carefully aimed, and every dodge felt more difficult than the last. Worse, the air itself seemed to be turning against him, growing thinner, more suffocating. Jorno was manipulating it—stealing oxygen, making each breath a struggle.

Grayven's chest heaved as he steadied himself, frustration boiling inside him. He attempted to fire his Omega Beams again, but just as before, Jorno erected an air wall, nearly invisible, that refracted the heat of the beams. The collision caused an explosion, blinding Grayven momentarily and disrupting his aim.

This was infuriating. Unlike his father, Darkseid, Grayven wasn't adept at using the Omega Beams with the same level of precision. Jorno had found a way to exploit that weakness.

But Grayven was far from finished.

"I can't see that creature of yours," Grayven growled, wiping blood from his mouth. "But it doesn't matter. I've learned enough."

Grayven clenched his fists and lunged forward with renewed fury. His plan was simple—feel the Stand. He couldn't see it, but every punch, every impact was painting a picture in his mind. He had been testing the range, the speed, the feel of it.

He ducked under another punch from King of the Clouds, twisting his body with precision as he delivered a devastating blow to the Stand's abdomen. In the same motion, he grabbed hold of the crystalline figure and brought his face close, his eyes glowing red with Omega energy.

"Now, die."

Grayven unleashed his Omega Beams point-blank, the deadly red light piercing through King of the Clouds' crystalline torso and shooting straight into Jorno's abdomen.

"ACK!" Jorno screamed, the pain overwhelming him. The heat seared through his body as though he had been stabbed with molten metal. He doubled over, his body trembling.

Grayven grabbed Jorno by the hair, yanking him up off the ground. The boy was bleeding heavily, his body shaking from the trauma. "Be honored, boy," Grayven said, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "You injured me. Few can claim such a feat."

With a final, dismissive motion, Grayven hurled Jorno across the battlefield. His body skidded across the rubble, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Jorno's vision blurred as he came to a stop, lying motionless, his shirt soaked with blood from the gaping hole in his abdomen.

Grayven stood tall, brushing his long, white hair back into place. His eyes glinted coldly as he looked down at Jorno's still form. The fight was over. He had more important matters to attend to.

But as he turned to leave, the faintest movement caught his eye.

Jorno's fingers twitched.

...

The battle-scarred streets of Metropolis lay in ruin, smoke rising from the wreckage of buildings and vehicles alike. Fires burned in the distance, casting a hellish glow across the battlefield. Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, ever the intrepid reporters, cautiously disembarked from their helicopter, the roar of its blades finally quieting.

Jimmy carried his camera, already running, while Lois marched ahead with her notebook in hand. Their target wasn't the crumbling buildings or the eerie quiet that had settled over the city—it was the heroes themselves. And there, in the center of it all, Diana of Themyscira stood over a fallen enemy, her once gleaming armor now tarnished with soot, blood, and scratches. Her hair, wild and loose, clung to her sweat-soaked skin, while her hand gripped her sword with purpose.

She loomed over the heavily injured body of Steppenwolf, the New God who had brought devastation to Earth. His once-impenetrable armor now lay in ruins, caved in at places, a long gash stretching across his chest. Blood trickled down from multiple wounds, pooling beneath him as he breathed with difficulty, each breath shallow and ragged.

Steppenwolf stared up at the sky, his vision blurred, his strength fading fast. He had seen death before and dealt it with relish and violence. But now, as it stared back at him, he found himself oddly calm. "So... this is it?" His voice, once booming and arrogant, was now frail and pensive. The end. He had never imagined it would come so soon, or that it would come here, on this distant planet, in service to Darkseid. A fitting end, perhaps, for a warrior who had served so long.

Diana, breathing heavily, her muscles aching from the long fight, raised her sword, the golden light from her Lasso of Truth still glowing faintly at her hip. She looked down at him, her expression hard, but not without a sliver of pity. "It'll be painless," she said softly. There was no joy in what she was about to do—no triumph in the killing of a fallen enemy. It was merely a necessity. Steppenwolf had caused too much harm to be left alive. If she didn't end him now, who knows what destruction he might bring if he ever rose again?

Steppenwolf closed his eyes, accepting his fate. "For Darkseid..." he muttered, ready to join the endless void.

Diana prepared to strike, her sword poised to deliver the final blow.

"Excuse me! Miss? Would you mind answering a few questions?"

The voice cut through the moment like a sharp knife. Diana froze, blinking in disbelief as she turned to see Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, both standing a few feet away. Jimmy was aiming his camera directly at her, broadcasting the scene live for the world to see.

Lois, her usual steely determination radiating through her voice, stepped forward, undeterred by the sight of the towering Amazon warrior or the fallen god at her feet. She seemed entirely focused on getting her story.

Jimmy, however, was shaking slightly, his camera trembling in his hands. "See? Listen to the warrior princess, Lois! She knows what she's talking about!" His voice was a little too high-pitched, betraying his fear. The wind from the earlier clashes still lingered in the air, and bits of debris could be seen swirling around them. Despite that, Jimmy kept the camera steady, capturing every moment of the tense standoff.

Diana sighed, lowering her sword and sheathing it. She could feel her muscles scream for rest, her body exhausted, but her warrior instincts refused to let her show any weakness. "Questions?" she asked, her voice tinged with irritation. "I'm not sure you should be worried about that right now. This is still a dangerous area." Her eyes flicked back to Steppenwolf, still lying prone at her feet, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Jimmy, his face pale with worry, kept glancing at the fallen Steppenwolf. "Yeah! Listen to her, Lois. This whole place is a war zone!"

Lois ignored Jimmy's pleas, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "No," she replied firmly, never taking her eyes off Diana. "Now, mind telling us exactly what you are? The alien before said you were the planet's 'heroes.' Is that an official term, or...?"

Diana raised an eyebrow, incredulous at the timing of such a question. Was now really the best moment to conduct an interview? She had half a mind to send them running for cover, but before she could answer, something caught her eye—a flicker of movement in the shadows.

A chilling voice cut through the air: "Goodbye."

Before Lois or Jimmy could react, a towering figure appeared beside them, moving faster than their eyes could register. Grayven, still bleeding from his earlier fight with Jorno, had re-emerged, his dark robes billowing as he raised his hand toward Lois, his palm hovering inches from her face. The sinister glow in his eyes told her everything she needed to know—one touch, and she would die.

The world seemed to slow in that instant, Lois's heart pounding in her chest as she locked eyes with her would-be killer. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat, frozen in the terror of the moment.

Just as Grayven's hand moved forward, his palm mere centimeters from Lois's face, the air around them shifted—a blur of red and blue streaked across the battlefield.

Grayven's hand was stopped cold.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," came the calm, commanding voice. Superman stood between Lois and Grayven, his hand gripping Grayven's wrist with an unshakable force.

Lois's breath caught as she stared up at him. Her husband—Clark Kent—stood before her, alive and well. His iconic red cape billowed in the wind, the large "S" on his chest gleaming under the dim sunlight. She had thought he was dead. The world had thought he was dead. But here he was, standing as strong as ever.

Grayven's eyes went wide with a mixture of disbelief and fear. Superman was supposed to be gone, destroyed by Doomsday, yet here he was, very much alive. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Grayven attempted to pull his arm free, but Superman's grip was like iron.

"I can't let you run, either," Superman added, tightening his hold on Grayven's wrist.

Grayven's mind raced. He knew that in his current state, he couldn't defeat Superman, Diana, and the others all at once. The retreat was his only option, but retreating meant humiliation—a failure that would tarnish his standing with Darkseid forever. He had never run from a battle, and Darkseid had never tolerated weakness. But now, survival was his only choice.

Charging his Omega Beams, Grayven's eyes began to glow, the searing red light threatening to ignite.

Seeing the imminent threat, Superman acted quickly. In a blur of motion, he grabbed both Lois and Jimmy, whisking them to safety in a nearby alley, far from the impending blast.

Grayven roared in frustration. "DESAAD!!!" he bellowed to the sky, his voice echoing across the ruined city.

Suddenly, a Boom Tube opened above him, swirling with dark energy. The portal back to Apokolips had arrived. His face showed brief relief—he would escape. He would live to fight another day. But before he could leap through the portal, Diana struck again.

With a flash of steel, Diana's sword sliced clean through Grayven's arm, severing it at the elbow.

"Come back here!" Diana shouted, her voice filled with fury. "You started this fight. You don't get to walk away."

Grayven staggered back, clutching the bloody stump where his arm had once been. He stared at Diana in disbelief, pain coursing through his body as he attempted to scramble for the Boom Tube.

As he prepared to flee, a swarm of Parademons descended from the Boom Tube, swarming Diana and surrounding her, their claws and wings beating against her as she fought them off.

Grayven took the distraction to leap toward the portal, but his eyes flicked to Steppenwolf's body. He couldn't leave him behind. Grabbing Steppenwolf by the armor, Grayven tried to lift him, but as he did, Steppenwolf's head slid clean off—the earlier cut from Diana had finished him off.

Grayven froze for a moment, rage and panic warring inside him. Steppenwolf was dead.

With one final glance at the battlefield, Grayven locked eyes with Superman and Diana. He burned the image into his mind—he would remember this defeat.

"I swear it," he growled, his voice low and full of venom. "I'll kill you all."

And with that, he jumped through the Boom Tube, vanishing into the swirling darkness, Steppenwolf's headless body left behind as the portal closed behind him.

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[Auther: Yo. My boy Jorno is dead. Or is he!?!?!?! Anyways, no happy ending for Jorno yet.

Alright, here's what Jorno looks like and yes, he has fangs.

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