Giorno’s face froze into a mask. Not even his blue eyes moved as he took this stranger in—but whoever he was, he felt him before he even visually processed him.

Giorno had felt strange every day of his life since being ripped away from home, but today was different. He, like always, had done his best to ignore it but there was unshakable sense that the source of it was standing in front of him.

It wasn’t until the glass was slipping from his hand and crashing to the floor that he was shaken from his stupor. Croccante jerked in the strange man’s arm and fled into his room.