(A/N):
Thanks for the support!!!
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Meanwhile at Jojo's Mansion...
Jojo's Room...
Sleep took Jojo the way gravity takes a falling coin.
No warning. No resistance.
In the dream...
There was no bed, no walls, no bodies curled warm at his sides.
There was only water.
Not an ocean. Not a lake.
Something deeper and stranger.
"...."
He found himself suspended within it, his body drifting upright as if the concept of up and down had quietly resigned.
The water was clear, impossibly so, yet filled with light.
Stars floated through it. Not reflections.
Not illusions.
Entire constellations drifted past him like slow-moving embers.
Some burned blue. Some pulsed red.
Others cracked open to reveal spinning galaxies within their cores.
He inhaled. And breathed.
"...."
The water filled his lungs, yet it didn't suffocate him.
It welcomed him.
Every breath felt natural, effortless, as though he had always belonged here.
His thoughts were calm. Too calm.
There was a strange freedom in it.
No weight. No pain.
No duty clawing at his spine.
The chains were gone.
Even the endless ledger of sins felt distant, muted, like a book closed somewhere far above.
Yet beneath that freedom… something else coiled.
Restraint. Invisible, but absolute.
Jojo tried to move.
"...."
He kicked, arms slicing through the luminous water, muscles burning with familiar strength.
He swam hard, pushing forward, stars parting around him in lazy spirals.
Nothing changed.
The scenery didn't shift. The distance didn't close.
No matter how fiercely he swam, he stayed exactly where he was.
The realization crept in slowly, cold despite the warmth of the water.
'I'm not floating.'
He was sinking. Not fast. Not violently.
Just enough to notice.
Below him, the water darkened.
The stars grew sparse, stretched thin like dying sparks.
Vast shapes moved in that darkness, outlines too large to be creatures, too deliberate to be random.
Something ancient stirred far beneath, turning over in its sleep.
Jojo strained harder, muscles screaming now, but his position remained unchanged.
The universe-water rippled gently, uncaring.
A thought surfaced, unbidden.
'This is what a cage feels like when it's beautiful.'
The sinking continued.
Slow. Inevitable.
And for the first time in a long while,
Jojo felt something he rarely allowed himself to name.
Not fear. Not panic.
But the unsettling awareness that this place knew him… and had been waiting could be a trap to trap him hear.
The stars above dimmed.
The darkness below widened.
And somewhere, far beyond sight, something turned its attention toward him.
The water darkened further.
Not gradually. Not naturally.
It was as if something vast had passed between him and existence itself.
Jojo stopped swimming.
Above him there was no longer light, no stars, no shimmer of galaxies suspended in liquid infinity.
There was only black. Absolute. Smothering.
A ceiling that was not a ceiling, pressing down without ever touching.
The pressure finally snapped his restraint.
Hellfire erupted.
His skin burned away in a silent scream, flesh peeling into embers as the Ghost Rider surfaced beneath.
Fire bloomed where blood should have been, skull igniting like a star born in wrath.
Even underwater, the flames lived, burning blue-orange, furious and defiant.
Bubbles tore upward in violent streams, not steam but fragments of reality recoiling from the heat of him.
The water did not extinguish the fire.
The fire commanded it.
The darkness recoiled slightly, as if offended.
Then—Two lights ignited ahead of him.
Not stars. Not suns. Galaxies.
They spun slowly, each one vast and ancient, entire universes rotating within perfect spherical pupils.
As they drifted closer, the scale became horrifyingly clear.
They were eyes.
The water trembled.
From the void between those twin galaxies, a shape emerged.
Immense. Impossible.
Its silhouette alone distorted the surrounding space, bending light and shadow alike.
A head pushed forward.
A turtle's head.
Ancient beyond reckoning.
Its surface was carved with cosmic scars, constellations etched into its shell-like skin as if time itself had tried and failed to erase them.
Each slow movement displaced oceans of darkness.
Every breath it took caused stars elsewhere to flicker and die.
Ghost Rider tensed, chains clinking softly as they coiled around his arms, hellfire roaring brighter in reflex.
He did not retreat.
He did not bow.
But for the first time in this dream, he understood one simple truth.
This was not a demon. Not a god. Not even a king.
This was a witness.
The colossal being leaned closer, its galaxy-eyes fixing fully on him.
The pressure intensified, not hostile, not gentle. Evaluating.
A voice echoed.
It did not come through sound. It arrived directly inside existence.
Slow. Layered. Carrying the weight of epochs.
Ghost Rider straightened, skull blazing brighter, flames rippling outward like a solar flare.
He spoke.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
The words tore through the water, the hellfire burning symbols into the dark as they traveled.
The turtle's eyes rotated, galaxies shifting, stars rearranging themselves like thoughts being reconsidered.
The voice answered.
Not aloud. Everywhere.
Older than language. Calmer than death.
Ghost Rider felt it settle into him, heavy and vast, as if the universe itself had leaned down to speak face to face.
His flames did not dim.
But for the first time since he became what he was, even the Spirit of Vengeance felt… like it was standing before a very very strong opponent.
Still, he did not yield.
His chains tightened in his grip.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU ARE. IF YOU STAND IN MY WAY—"
The turtle's head tilted slightly.
And the darkness around them paused.
"...."
Not froze. Paused.
As if the dream itself was holding its breath.
The laughter rolled through the void again.
Warm.
Cracked at the edges like an old storyteller's chuckle.
-Chuckle
The kind that belonged to someone who had watched civilizations rise, trip, and laugh about it later.
Ghost Rider stiffened.
"...."
The voice settled into his skull, not intrusive, not forceful. Just… there.
Then it spoke, amused and gentle.
"My name is Maturin."
For the first time since the flames claimed him, Ghost Rider froze.
Hellfire flared higher, chains rattling as instinct screamed threat.
Jojo knew that name.
From another life. Another world. Another story.
The great turtle.'The one It feared.
The one Pennywise never dared mock, never challenged directly, never even named without trembling beneath the circus grin.
The realization hit him like a hammer.
His thoughts betrayed him.
'…No way. Not him. Not the big one.'
The laughter returned, softer now, fond.
"Ah," Maturin said kindly, "so you remember the little clown."
Another chuckle. Older. Deeper.
"He did love his games, didn't he? Always pretending I could be strangled or chocked by a few collapsing universes."
A pause. Amused.
"Children's stories need drama, after all."
The galaxies within Maturin's eyes turned slowly, rearranging themselves like patient thoughts.
Ghost Rider's flames roared brighter, but he did not advance.
"YOU'RE IN MY HEAD."
The words burned outward, sharp and warning.
"YOU'RE READING THINGS YOU SHOULDN'T."
Maturin did not flinch.
The water around them steadied, no longer pressing, no longer sinking.
"I am not reading," the turtle replied gently.
"I am listening."
The vast head lowered slightly, bringing those universe-filled eyes closer, not threatening, not dominating.
"You carry more than one lifetime," Maturin continued.
"More than one story. More than one ending that never truly ended."
Ghost Rider felt it then.
Not invasion. Recognition.
The flames around his skull crackled uneasily.
"WHY DID YOU PULL ME HERE? IF THIS IS A TEST—"
"It is not," Maturin interrupted softly.
The darkness shifted, revealing faint ripples of light beneath the water, like memories waiting to surface.
"I did not summon you to judge you."
"I did not summon you to bind you."
"And certainly not to harm you."
The water stilled.
The pressure eased.
And then Maturin spoke again, slower now, as if choosing each word with care.
"I am harmless to you," the great turtle said, his voice settling like a blanket over the void.
"You were never in danger here."
Ghost Rider did not lower his guard, but the flames no longer surged blindly.
"THEN WHY ME?"
The galaxies within Maturin's eyes shifted, dimming to a somber glow.
"Because of the clown," he replied.
The word carried weight. Not mockery this time. Recognition.
"Or by his truer name according to your memory… the Death Lights."
The water darkened briefly, reacting to the name like a wounded thing.
"You ended him," Maturin continued gently.
"In a parallel reflection of this universe. One thread among many, but a decisive one."
Ghost Rider felt it then.
A distant pull in his chest.
Like a scar remembering the blade.
'So it really happened…'
"The Death Lights do not truly die as mortals do," Maturin said.
"They echo. When one avatar is destroyed, its memories scatter across the lattice of worlds."
A pause.
"And one of those echoes has awakened."
The void trembled faintly.
"It has sensed its own end," Maturin went on.
"And now, in fear and rage, it is moving through nearby timelines. Hunting."
Ghost Rider's chains rattled softly.
"HUNTING WHO?"
"The Losers," Maturin answered.
"Past. Present. Future. Those bound by the story that defied it."
The turtle's voice hardened just a fraction.
"It will try to erase them before they can ever stand together again. Generation by generation. Timeline by timeline."
A long silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Ghost Rider's fire burned steady now. Focused.
"AND YOU WANT ME TO STOP IT."
Maturin smiled.
"I want you to finish what began," he said. "And I want you alive long enough to do it."
The galaxies in his eyes flared brighter.
"When the time comes, one of the Losers will find you," Maturin continued.
"Across worlds. Across probability. When that bond forms—"
The water rippled outward.
"—I will bless you with the ability to walk between worlds."
Ghost Rider's skull tilted slightly.
"A GIFT."
"A responsibility," Maturin corrected kindly.
"And protection."
The turtle leaned closer, his ancient presence steady, reassuring.
"Your power is still growing, Jojo Sataru. Faster than you realize. Faster than many forces will tolerate."
The void seemed to listen.
"My blessing will shield you," Maturin said. "Not from consequences—but from being unmade by them."
Ghost Rider hesitated.
"...."
For the first time since the flames claimed him, there was no immediate answer.
'Champion… Pawn… Guardian…'
Maturin sensed it, the doubt curling beneath the fire.
"I do not demand your loyalty," the turtle said softly. "Nor obedience."
A gentle laugh, warm and ancient.
-Haha!
"I am asking you to choose."
The galaxies slowed.
"I will not misuse your trust," Maturin promised.
"I have watched champions rise and fall longer than your hellfire has burned in your soul."
A pause.
"And unlike the Blind King… I do not consume those who serve."
The void began to brighten at the edges, signaling the dream's end.
Ghost Rider straightened.
The flames around him steadied into resolve.
"IF I WALK THIS PATH— IT'S ON MY TERMS."
Maturin's smile widened.
"As it should be."
The great turtle began to fade, his vast form dissolving back into stars and silence.
"Until we meet again, Spirit of Vengeance," Maturin said warmly.
"And Jojo… storyteller of endings."
One last chuckle echoed through the dark.
-Chuckle
"Do try not to let the clown bore you."
Then the universe folded inward.
The water vanished.
The stars blinked out—
—and Jojo snapped awake, breath sharp, flames long gone.
Forks lay quiet outside his window.
But somewhere, far beyond sight, a story had just chosen its next chapter.
Before Two hours…
Down in the hall, Biffer sat rigid on the couch in his harmless dog form.
For a heartbeat, the house was silent.
Then his ears twitched.
"...."
A low growl crawled out of his throat.
-Grr!
The growl deepened. Twisted. Split.
-HOOOOOWL!!!
With a thunderous howl that rattled the windows,
Biffer's body expanded, bones cracking and reforming as hellfire traced along his spine.
Fur burned away into ember-black hide, horns curving forward as glowing sigils flared across his chest.
The hell hound stood snarling, claws gouging into the floor.
The sound ripped through the mansion.
Rosalie and Alice burst out first, moving faster using their speed.
Inadu and Caroline followed, Caroline already halfway vamped, eyes glowing.
Debbie and Gayathri rushed out moments later, fear and adrenaline tangling in their eyes.
Cecellia stumbled out last.
She froze.
"...."
Her breath caught when she saw Biffer in his true form, flames licking from his jaws, eyes like molten suns.
"Oh my God…" she whispered.
Biffer didn't even look at them.
He turned toward the front door, hackles raised, every instinct screaming hunt.
Before anyone could react, the locks clicked.
The door swung open on its own.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
[New Fan fic: Star Entertainment: Building An Empire. Check it out.
There will be two chapters a week(Monday and Tuesday)
If delayed I would post it on Wednesday or Thursday.]
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!