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Up on top was a lot lonelier than what Giorno thought, especially after… He cast a glance to the Mista lookalike by his side. He should probably dismiss the man before he contemplated any further.
"You're dismissed." The man immediately left without question. That was another thing that Giorno hated. As much as Giorno had hated it when Mista pestered him before the incident he missed it, always sure to complain about being dismissed or bother him if he stayed up too late working- no matter how old he was.
Now he was replaced with a shoddy copy of him that didn't care if Giorno died or not and was always filled with a slight tinge of fear. He still didn't really know what happened in this world's version of events but he sort of didn't want to know.
There were a lot of things that he really didn't want to know. It had been a pattern ever since he had taken over as Boss of Passione.
That included things that he knew now. Including things concerning his predecessor. As much as he hated it, he came to understand a little bit the paranoia- and he knew now it was definitely paranoia not evil- that plagued the man.
In just a week of him coming out as the new boss there were several attempts on his life. More that he could count on both his hands. Even the friendliest seeming of men hid daggers in their smiles it seemed, and for a while there was the distinct temptation to just disappear and do what Diavolo did even though he knew that Golden Experience could take care of anyone that came for his life.
At least at that time he had Mista to help him, and Polnareff. They understood, and they helped him out of his shell so to speak. But now like everyone else that Giorno knew they've been replaced.
He sighed at his desk. Sometimes he wondered if he should take Diavolo back from… Wherever it was Golden Experience sent him off to. Thinking about it, Diavolo had lost everything in that fight including a part of his very soul if what Polnareff was to be believed.
Giorno's head hurt with all the thoughts running through his head. He cursed his naivete. Looking back, Abbaccio was right, and as much as he hated to admit Polpo was too.
His 15 year old self had such a self-righteous, naive, black and white perception of people and he hated it. Just how many people had he failed to understand just because he refused to see? Just how warped was his perception?
He wished.. He wished someone had taught him. He knew it was impossible but he wished that he had the opportunity to expand his worldview outside of the gangster that impressioned him so much. He wished to meet his friends again, he wished that the few people he got close to didn't die.
He wished that he didn't have to come to such severe blows with Diavolo, his other half dying probably a very lonely death and the man himself sent to god knows where.
Golden Experience manifested itself on the table, sitting cross legged. "It isn't useless. I can make it happen, but the question is, are you willing? I was originally hesitant to tell you this but you are miserable. My ability when I became a requiem is to set anything to zero. I can still rewind the clock in a sense, but in doing so you would sacrifice everything you have currently- even me."
Giorno contemplated for a moment and then nodded. "Alright, although I must warn you that I have become much weaker than before. I can't completely erase what had happened so everyone will likely get vague impressions of what had happened before- including you. Do you still want to go through with this?" Much more confidently, Giorno looked at the dulling yellow stand in its cloudy purple eyes and "Yes."
The thin stand stood up, and then everything went to black.