KISMET ─ vento aureo.

▹ TWENTY-NINE ;

☆ ⁺ « HAND IN THE COOKIE JAR

★˚⋆ YOU BROUGHT THE RECEIVER TO your lips and spoke in the most exaggerated Lower Space accent you knew how to. "'Ello? This is Ahren Irani. May I speak to Pannacotta Fugo?"

"Who is this? I don't know anyone by that name."

Fugo's suspicion was practically a knife, sharp and cutting. It might have pissed you off but you were just glad to hear his voice again.

Stars, you could have cried. Your crew had made it to Minos. They were okay.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself before I hang up."

You darted a look around the dock. A few bored sailors and dockworkers, some grisly fishermen. Abbacchio keeping watch by the corner. No one seemed the least bit interested in you. Even the cracked holoscreen in the corner wasn't displaying any current news about your crew.

"Fugo," you said, cutting back on the Lower Space twang. "It's me." Your throat tightened. "Your Captain."

You heard Fugo inhale. It became utterly quiet on the other end of the call.

"Fugo?" you said.

"What's the name of my Stand?" Fugo asked.

"Purple Haze. Or Purple Catastrophe, depending on who you ask."

"H-how are you alive?" he spluttered and you almost laughed. "How did you manage to get out of the Black Zone? Are you on Minos right now?"

"I don't really know myself. It's a long story, but yeah, I'm on Minos. Where are you and the crew?"

Fugo got over his shock quickly. "We got here a few days ago and took a while to regroup. Coco Jumbo managed to make contact with Polnareff and we took one of the ferries to the nearby islands. D46. We're under a made-up research crew Coco whipped up. We have clearance for three weeks."

"How much time do we have left?"

"A week," said Fugo grimly.

It was about what you had expected, but hearing it from Fugo made it so much worse.

"Keep doing what you're doing. I'll find a way to reach you."

"Will you be able to? We can send someone out."

"You need everyone to deal with Polnareff. I'll manage. We can't waste anymore time. Besides, I have help."

"Help?"

You looked in Abbacchio's direction. He'd left his GA uniform behind and wore black pants and a grey button-up. His hair was shoved under a cap. As far from an Inspector as you could please. "You'll see."

Fugo's voice suddenly turned urgent. "Captain, I have to ask. Did JoJo ever say anything to you? Anything strange?"

"No. Strange how, exactly?"

"No. It's nothing. I was just curious. I wanted—ah, well, it's not important. We'll continue things here then," said Fugo. "I'll pass you over to Mista. He's been listening in this whole time and nearly shat his pants."

"Shut up, you flackbag," Mista said without missing a beat. You couldn't help smirking. "Is that really you, Cap?"

"Who else?"

Mista's voice went uncharacteristically soft. Your breath caught.

"You really scared me, you know that? I don't know what I would've done if—flack, I'm so glad you're alive."