Chapter Text
Space was endless, cold like ice and as lonely as a mother missing her kin. The memories were fuzzy, but the pain wasn’t to leave. The ice biting at his fingertips, his body breathless and weightless yet still so, so heavy. He’d reach out a hand to no one, gripping at the world he once lived spinning without him. It was quiet, not even the noise of nothing filled his ears. It was a fate worse than death.
Kars shot up in his bed, a cold sweat sticking his purple curls to his forehead as he gripped at his chest, breathing frantic but slowly calming. He had those nightmares ever since he was a child, the nothingness of space and how cold it was, how lonely. He hated the stars, he hated the night itself. The sun was warm, and it brought the noise and chatter of life with it. That’s why, when he turned his head to his slightly agape curtains, he sighed as he saw the moonlight pour in. One day where he didn’t wake up early was all he asked for.
Kars was born and raised in Italy, currently attending college for an archaeology degree. He currently stayed in his parents home, as it was closer to his college than his own. Kars was always distant to his parents, not that they were bad parents, but he never let anyone get close to him from a young age. Sometimes, when other parts of the family would come for the holidays, they would joke that he was like an old soul in a young boy's body, and sometimes Kars truly felt that to be true. He was always drawn to the past, specifically stones and carvings on walls. He had dreams of caves and lush forests in the night, other beings following him in toe, as well as the endless cold of space.
He crossed his ankles as he sat at his desk, the only light coming from his desktop that was turned up just a bit too bright for anyone else. Although he was interested in all of the past, he was most drawn to a certain relic the most. A mask, carved in stone with fangs molded into its lips. Piles of yet to be returned library books sat next to his computer, all on Aztec artifacts and ancient history. Anything that would give just a bit more knowledge into this mask. He fixated on it, he had ever since he found it, drawn to a book that seemed completely plain at first, but held pages talking of it.
Some man named Joseph Joestar had published books on his findings that now stayed on display in the Speedwagon Foundation Museum, and Kars made it his life goal to one day visit it in New York and see the real thing in person. For now, though, he focused on his degree and getting as much knowledge as he could about these stone masks and their maker. There was one thing, however, that still felt as if it was missing from his life.
Heat.