The Last Pillar.

Chapter one hundred and three: Requiem sung softly

A sharp pain filled (y/n)'s head as light flooded 'her' eyes. She looked down and saw herself laying on her legs. These were not her legs. It was Diavolo's legs! If she was no longer in her body, that means someone else was! Was this the ability of Silver Chariot's new forme? Carefully, (y/n) got up. She spoke to herself softly so her stand and ghost warriors heard her and knew. "I seem to have swapped bodies with our enemy. We need to be vigilant.," The words met the ears of her stand and her followers, thankfully. She picked up her body carefully. 'Wow. I am really small. How the heck have I not grown?,' she asked herself. She saw her own eyes open and the big red eyes stare back before the person began to thrash and yell in her voice, "Put me down! Bastard!" "Stop thrashing! You don't know what you can do with my body, dummy!," (y/n) snapped at the person in her body as Sticky Fingers was summoned by the child, only for the blow to be blocked by Avalon.
So Bucciarati was in her body. That was a relief. "(Y/n)?!," Bucciarati asked before noticing that his voice was different and reaching up to the horns on the head, "Ah ta ta ta! How can you stand using these things, it's like a sensory overload." "My horns are for self defense. They are meant to feel the air and environment.," (y/n) replied, "But, it seems like all of us have swapped bodies. I bet it was the effect of the arrow on Polpol's stand." That made her remember, Polnareff's stand was still at large! It had the arrow! "No time for this! The others have to be waking up by now, we have to get that arrow.," the body swapped pillar child spoke, "Get on my back and hold on." Both heard a scream and (y/n) went to look down over the arena, the gang members were awake and figuring out what was going on.

"Just to think, all of this chaos because of an arrow. My own stand. Dio's stand. All of this misery orchestrated by fate. First the masks, then the stands, now the arrow.," (y/n) rambled quietly to herself, trying to make sense of everything, "So much misery from men wanting Ultimate power. My father, my brother, whoever created these arrows, this man whose body I am in. When will it all stop?" "(Y/n). You need to snap out of it. We have to get that arrow if we are to stop Diavolo.," Bruno told her with her own voice. Avalon stayed out, hovering over (y/n) and Bucciarati. His power seemed to be even greater now, like it was given another boost. His silvery body seemed to be corporeal. The pillar girl felt Bucciarati pat her with her own tiny hand. "We need to go. Let's find silver chariot.," Bucciarati spoke and pulled on the pink hair that (y/n) had. "Alright. Let's go.," Came her reply as she ran to the edge of the wall and climbed down the building. She looked around the streets at all the people who were still asleep.
With Bucciarati on her back, she ran back into the collesseum. The green eyes of the body she currently inhabited looked around before she finally saw what she was looking for, the oily black hide of the berserk Silver Chariot. She heard the surprised shouting of the gang from their positions and another familiar voice. She charged forward with Avalon right over her and swung at the stand, the sharp blades of the winged stand cut through Silver Chariot's arm like a hot knife through butter. Bucciarati knocked the stand back with Sticky Fingers.

The arm fell to the ground, still gripping the arrow. The voice of Giorno was heard, yet his speech matched Narancia's patterns more. "It's Bucciarati and (y/n)!," the teen exclaimed in excitement. (Y/n) looked up to where the teen was, Bucciarati sat on her shoulder after stabilizing his new weight. "Narancia. Your soul is in my nephew's body.," she spoke and looked to the bodies in front of her, "Identify yourselves." "Giorno.," Narancia's body spoke. "I'm Trish.," Mista's body spoke. Trish's body spoke up, "I'm Mista." (Y/n) nodded and looked at the reptile that Giorno was holding after hearing her old friend's voice from it, "(y/n). And I assume that Bucciarati is in your body." Bucciarati looked at the turtle, "You, you're the man we were supposed to meet! Polnareff!" "You swapped with the turtle.," (y/n) said as she knelt down to look Polnareff in the eyes, "I'm sorry Polpol. It's my fault." "No it's not. I don't blame you for this. Nor do I blame you for what happened thirteen years ago, you can let that go.," her old friend replied from the beak of the turtle he possessed. His blue eyes had replaced the turtle's brown ones, the eyes looked to Bucciarati, "I am Jean Pierre Polnareff. That berserk stand is mine, as I believe that (y/n) has already told you. I was already killed by Diavolo, but my spirit clings to this world as I inhabit this turtle."
"Chariot is not acting like it should. Is that an effect of the Arrow?," (y/n) inquired. "It seems so. It is no longer Silver Chariot, but Silver Chariot Requiem. It is the reason all your souls are switched around.," Polnareff replied as they watched his stand raise from its place on the floor. "What terrifying power. It is also corporeal, I can not see through it.," (y/n) spoke and kicked a pebble at the stand after standing herself. The pebble bounced right off of the inky, man-shaped mass. "Silver Chariot has become a fully defensive stand. From my wish to protect the arrow at all costs.," Polnareff explained. Bucciarati hopped off of the body that (y/n) inhabited and reached the tiny clawed hand out to the arrow.