The bus rumbled along the road, its engine's rhythmic hum creating a false sense of tranquility amidst the chaos that surrounded Jovian and Calista. The scenery outside the windows blurred into a mosaic of buildings, trees, and people, each passing moment bringing them closer to the hospital—or so they hoped. Inside the bus, tension crackled in the air, an unspoken fear shared by every passenger. The vibrations of the bus seemed to sync with the pounding of Jovian's heart, creating an unnerving rhythm of anxiety.
Jovian's thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of their situation. "Where the three of us are… there's no way anyone would have a reason to attack us! But… right now… I don't know how we're under attack by an enemy Stand that's being operated remotely. An automatic pursuit… Just who is this enemy?" He glanced at Calista, who was slipping in and out of consciousness, her breathing shallow and labored. The sight of his sister in such a state gnawed at his insides, making the urgency of their predicament all the more acute.
Maxwell Silver, the boy with the mullet, watched them intently. His gaze was sharp, calculating, yet there was a glimmer of something deeper—an empathy that Jovian hadn't expected. "Listen, Jovian, I'm not just doing this out of the kindness of my heart… I'm doing this because I saw how noble you were."
"Noble…?" Jovian replied, confusion and suspicion mingling in his voice. The word felt foreign, almost misplaced in their current reality.
"I saw you risk your life to go into your sister's body and defeat the enemy Stand, in return for you having the same sickness," Maxwell explained. His eyes held a sincerity that was hard to ignore. In the midst of chaos, Maxwell's steady gaze offered a sliver of stability.
Jovian felt a surge of gratitude but also a pang of guilt. "Thanks... I just did what I had to do. She's my sister." His voice wavered, the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him.
Maxwell nodded. "And that's why I'm helping you. I'm sending Cherry Bomb into your bloodstream, so try not to move." His tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.
Cherry Bomb, the red entity, began to float towards Jovian's mouth. As it entered Jovian's body, he felt a cool sensation spread through his veins, numbing the burning pain from the infection. It was as if ice was flowing through his bloodstream, providing a temporary reprieve from the agony. The sensation was both soothing and disconcerting, a stark contrast to the fiery pain he had been enduring.
Suddenly, time seemed to slow down for Jovian. Everything around him moved in a sluggish blur, as if the world had slipped into slow motion. The colors dulled, and sounds became distorted, creating an eerie and disorienting atmosphere. He could see every detail with startling clarity—the cracks in the bus's windows, the lines on the faces of the passengers, the dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
Jovian's Inner Monologue:"Why… Why is everyone so nonchalant about the Queensland Tournament? It's literally an all-out war…" He struggled to comprehend how people could continue their daily lives amidst such chaos and danger. The Tournament had turned Queensland into a battlefield, yet there was an unsettling normalcy in the way people acted. The juxtaposition of everyday life and the violence of the Tournament was jarring, making it hard for Jovian to process the reality of their situation.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an overweight businessman arguing loudly on his phone. The man's voice was grating, his frustration spilling over into every word. "No, you listen to me! I don't care what the board says, we need those reports by tomorrow!" His face was flushed with anger, completely oblivious to the danger that lurked around them.
Jovian snapped back to reality, the slow-motion effect dissipating. He watched the businessman, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. The man's face was flushed with anger, completely unaware of the peril surrounding him. The tension in the air was palpable, an electric current of fear and anticipation.
Without warning, a bullet came flying through the window, shattering the glass with a deafening crash. The bullet struck the businessman in the head, killing him instantaneously. Blood splattered across the seats, and the passengers screamed in horror, ducking for cover. The sudden violence shattered the fragile calm, plunging everyone into a state of panic.
Jovian's heart raced as he turned to Maxwell. "What the hell is happening? Who's attacking us?" His voice was a mixture of fear and determination, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Maxwell's eyes were sharp, scanning the surroundings. "Stay down! This isn't just a random attack; someone's targeting us." His voice was steady, a stark contrast to the chaos erupting around them.
The bus swerved, and the driver shouted, "Everyone get down! We're under attack!" His voice was high-pitched, edged with terror.
"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU'RE NOT APART OF THIS!!" Jovian screamed, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. The intensity of his outburst stunned the other passengers into silence.
"GET BACK IN THAT FUCKING BUS SEAT AND DRIVE TO THE HOSPITAL, UNLESS YOU WANNA DIE!!!" Jovian yelled once more, his voice echoing through the bus. The raw urgency in his voice galvanized the driver into action.
The driver, startled and visibly shaken, hesitated for a moment before complying. The bus lurched forward, speeding down the road as passengers huddled in fear. The atmosphere inside the bus was tense, a volatile mix of fear, confusion, and determination.
Meanwhile...
"FUCK! I HIT THE WRONG TARGET!!" A man screamed, laying on an elevated location somewhat near the bus. The frustration in his voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the calm precision of his earlier actions.
The man was holding a sniper rifle. He was wearing a camouflaged military uniform, with a camouflaged military cap. He had orange hair that flowed out from under the back of the hat. The sniper rifle was a sleek, deadly instrument, its matte black surface glinting in the sunlight.
"Well, I don't miss twice!" He exclaimed as he was about to pull the trigger. His eyes narrowed, the focus and intensity of a predator zeroing in on its prey.
Suddenly, the phone began to ring, followed up with a loud sigh. The interruption was jarring, pulling him out of his lethal focus.
"Hello?" The guy answered, his voice a mix of irritation and impatience.
"Soldier Boy, come back to the hospital immediately." A voice could be heard from the other end of the line. The urgency in the voice was unmistakable, cutting through the man's irritation.
"Uh, can it wait? I'm kinda in the middle of something." The man questioned, his tone bordering on insubordination.
"No! Get back here now! It's too risky to talk about on the phone, so I'll tell you in person!" The caller exclaimed, their voice a mix of frustration and command.
The man checked the time. 10:18 AM. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as he contemplated his next move.
"But... our assault has already been going on for 18 minutes... Don't you think it's time we wrap it up?" The man replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. The mission had stretched on longer than he had anticipated, and he was eager to conclude it.
"No! I said get back now! I can feel my Stand coming closer to me, which also means they're coming to the hospital!" The voice said before a long beep, indicating he had hung up. The abrupt end to the conversation left the man no room for argument.
"Fine, fine... I'm coming." Soldier Boy said before realizing the man had hung up on him. His voice was a mixture of resignation and annoyance.
"I'm pretty hungry anyway," Soldier Boy remarked once more, as we get a scene of him walking off with his sniper rifle. His footsteps were measured, each step a testament to his training and discipline.
To Be Continued!