The young Joestar's pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, but he was truly frightened by what he had seen in his dream.
In his dream, rubble littered across a dusty, dimly lit hotel, abandoned and in ruins.
In his dream, a crimson Hamon bubble containing the familiarly flashy headband floated in his direction.
In his dream, everything was splattered red, painted dark.
The sense of impending doom gripped around his windpipe in a choke-hold.
In his dream, Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, had breathed his last breath.