Long before the era of Auras and semblances, a great yet rare power existed. Stands. Stand users are now but a thing of the past, or are they?
Seeing their child born defective, with no aura or semblance, his parents throw him away like trash. This...
The boy opened his eyes and looked around him. He saw he was in an alley, and a voice – a woman's voice – was calling him.
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"Who are you? Do I know you?" the voice was behind him, but his instincts were screaming at him not to turn around. "I am your mother. Your real mother, I mean."
"Bullshit! You were never my mother! You abandoned me! My name is Kira Branwen, proud member of the Branwen Tribe, and second in command of the White Fang!" The boy heard footsteps approaching, and felt a hand on his shoulders. The voice spoke again, "it was the worst decision of my life, but you knew how your father was. If something wasn't going his way, he just went and removed any variables that could cause him trouble."
The boy scoffed. "So that's what I was? Your son, your only son, a variable?" he swatted the hand away and decided to turn his back, to look at her mother in the eye.
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Ghostly hands lunged at him, ready to grab him. "I told you not to look back. This is just a little part of what awaits you if you continue on your path. You were just a helpless, powerless child." Struggling against the hands' grip, he called for Killer Queen, but the Stand didn't answer.
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I know who I am! So what? If I'm destined to die, so be it!" Biting down on one of the hands, he broke free and shoved his mother away, running from the scene. "It's useless." She replied, flatly. Then everything turned to black.
