The city was quiet as Josiah made his way back to the estate, the chill of night pressing on him. Black feathers littered the streets, remnants of recent skirmishes. Every sense was on edge. He knew the leader's presence was near, guiding the chaos from the shadows.
Then he saw him. A figure stepped from the darkness, aura shimmering with a golden glow. Solar Titanium reacted instantly, fists raised, tension radiating like a coiled spring.
Josiah froze. The figure raised their own Stand, nearly identical to Solar Titanium—muscular, humanoid, golden, close-range, fast, precise. The enemy's Stand mirrored every motion, every instinct, moving as if it were born to counter Josiah.
The man spoke, voice low and chilling. "So… you are the heir. I've been waiting for you."
Josiah's grip tightened. "Who are you?" he demanded. His heart raced, every muscle tensed. This was no ordinary adversary. This was someone who could rival him, match every move, anticipate every thought.
The enemy smiled. "Call me Lucien. And like you, I have Solar Titanium's kin. But unlike you, I've mastered it fully. Let us see which of us is truly worthy of the bloodline's fate."
The two golden Stands mirrored each other, pulsating with energy. Josiah realized the coming battle would be unlike any before—no thugs, no lieutenants. This was the true test, a clash of equals.
Solar Titanium's fists clenched, glowing brighter. Josiah's heart pounded. The city around them was silent, holding its breath. Windgrave's fate, and perhaps the Jorwick bloodline itself, would soon be decided in the golden glow of two unstoppable Stands.
And with that, the first strikes flew.