Under the ethereal glow of the moon, Jormund and Professor Alexander stood before the enigmatic mansion, its charred facade casting eerie shadows. Puzzled, Jormund questioned, "Professor Alexander, why have we come to this burned-down mansion?"

The professor, adjusting his glasses and consulting his notes, replied, "It seems the Speedwagon Foundation has a keen interest in unraveling the mysteries behind this mansion's sudden appearance and subsequent fire."

Approaching the mansion, its dilapidated state became more apparent. The remnants of grandeur hinted at a past elegance now marred by flames. The architecture, though damaged, still held an air of mystique, reminiscent of a bizarre adventure.

As they explored the desolation, the professor's observations were abruptly interrupted by an unsettling creaking sound. The burnt remnants seemed to echo with the ghostly whispers of a past untold. Jormund's instincts heightened, sensing something peculiar about the charred hallways.

Unbeknownst to them, the remnants of the Joestar Mansion concealed secrets that transcended the ordinary. The narratives of Stand users, supernatural confrontations, and the Joestar lineage unfolded like pages of an ancient tome.

Hesitating before the entrance, Jormund and Professor Alexander cautiously pushed open the creaking double doors, revealing the once-grand foyer now tainted by fire damage. The smell of burnt wood lingered in the air, a somber reminder of the mansion's tragic past.

Jormund, eyeing the interior warily, remarked, "This place gives off an eerie vibe. What kind of secrets does it hold?"

Professor Alexander, holding his notepad and pen tightly, responded, "The Speedwagon Foundation believes there's a connection between the appearance of this mansion and certain supernatural phenomena. We must tread carefully and document everything we find."

Professor Alexander, riffling through his notes, suddenly paused, his eyes widening with realization. "Jormund, it appears we've stumbled upon the Joestar Mansion. This mansion, known for its enigmatic appearances, belongs to the renowned Joestar family."

Jormund, hearing his family name mentioned, felt a strange mix of surprise and curiosity. "Joestar? That's my family name too. Could there be a connection between me and this mysterious mansion?"

"We're about to find out" Professor Alexander replied as they ventured further into the dimly lit interior, the remnants of the Joestar Mansion unfolded before them. Charred portraits adorned the walls, showcasing faces frozen in time. The grand staircase, though damaged, still bore an air of regality. The echo of their footsteps seemed to whisper the tales of a bygone era.

Passing through the decaying corridors, Jormund couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Shadows danced along the scorched walls, casting a haunting presence that stirred his instincts. The silence within the mansion was occasionally broken by the faint crackling of residual embers.

In a room that once held opulent furnishings, now reduced to ashy relics, Professor Alexander mused, "It's as if time stopped here, yet the traces of what occurred linger."

Jormund, scanning the room, added, "Whatever happened here, it left an indelible mark. Let's proceed with caution."

The journey through the decaying corridors of the Joestar Mansion led Jormund and Professor Alexander to a room that, despite its dilapidated state, bore an air of authority – the old office of George Joestar I. The remnants of an era long past lay strewn about, with dusty bookshelves and faded leather-bound tomes.

Jormund, examining the room with intrigue, remarked, "This must have been where George Joestar I conducted his business. The atmosphere is still preserved, even if everything else is falling apart."

Professor Alexander, flipping through his notes, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, this room is a historical relic. We might find clues about the mansion's mysterious appearances here."

As they delved into their exploration, Professor Alexander's gaze fell upon a peculiar object mounted on the wall – the stone mask. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and he recounted the tale of Dio Brando, the individual associated with the ominous artifact.

"In the early 20th century," Professor Alexander began, "Dio Brando, a malevolent force, used this stone mask to transform into a vampire. It's said to have supernatural properties, capable of granting incredible power. Dio's legacy is one marked by treachery and the pursuit of immortality."

Jormund, captivated by the tale, examined the stone mask closely. "So, this mask is tied to a dark chapter in the mansion's history?"

Professor Alexander's eyes reflected a mix of historical reverence and subtle fear as he responded to Jormund's question. "Jormund, this office, and the events tied to it, have a profound impact on our heritage's destiny. It was the events in this very place that the Joestar family crossed paths with the Speedwagon family, forging a bond to confront a greater evil. It also lead to the founding of the Speedwagon foundation."

His voice carried a weight of history, and the mention of a "greater evil" sent a shiver down his spine. The connection between the Joestars and the Speedwagon family seemed to transcend mere coincidence, hinting at a destiny that intertwined their fates in a battle against forces beyond comprehension.

As Professor Alexander carefully took the stone mask from the wall mounting, a sudden change overcame the atmosphere within the mansion. The air thickened with an eerie darkness, and distant sounds of shuffling steps echoed through the corridors. The once silent mansion now reverberated with the unsettling noise of the undead.

A foul scent, reminiscent of rotten flesh, permeated the air, signaling the presence of something unholy. Jormund's eyes widened as the situation unfolded before them. He could feel the tension in the air, and the realization dawned on him that they had stirred something ancient and malevolent.

Professor Alexander, his face betraying a mix of concern and determination, spoke urgently, "Jormund, we need to leave, now! This mansion is not just a relic of the past; it holds a darkness that should remain undisturbed."

Jormund, his voice filled with a mix of fear and curiosity, questioned, "What have we unleashed, Professor?"

The professor, glancing back at the approaching darkness, responded with a hint of urgency, "This goes beyond your family history. It's a dark force tied to the destiny of our lineages—the Joestars and the Speedwagon family. We must get out before it consumes us." looking back at the mask before continueing, "We can't leave this behind. We need to take the mask with us and destroy it. It's the only way to put an end to whatever malevolent force we've awoken," he exclaimed, his words carrying a sense of determination. Jormund nodded in agreement before they both left the office.

As they hurriedly made their way through the dimly lit corridors of the Joestar Mansion, Professor Alexander clutched the stone mask in his hands. Jormund, keeping pace with the professor. The weight of the situation pressed upon them as they moved through the haunted halls, the distant sounds of undead footsteps echoing ominously in the mansion.

As Jormund and Professor Alexander rounded the next corner, they were met with a ghastly sight – a horde of undead, former butlers and maidens of the once-humble mansion, now reduced to rotten flesh and bones. The undead creatures slowly shuffled toward them, driven by a relentless desire to consume the living. 

Jormund, not accustomed to the supernatural, felt a chill run down his spine. "What in the world is happening here? Undead butlers and maidens? This can't be real!". The grim reality of the situation sank in as he glanced around for any means of defense. 

Professor Alexander, though visibly disturbed, maintained a veneer of composure, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "It seems the dark history of this mansion has come to life. We must find a way out and take that cursed mask with us. It's the source of all this!"

As they tried to navigate the maze of undead, Jormund's unease grew. "We need a plan, Professor. We can't fight them all. How do we get out of this?"

Professor Alexander, scanning their surroundings, replied, "We have to backtrack. There might be another way. Just stay close, Jormund, and be ready for anything."

Suddenly, the ceiling behind them gave way, and more undead tumbled down, effectively trapping the duo. Jormund and Professor Alexander found themselves surrounded on all sides, with the relentless undead closing in.

Jormund, now feeling the weight of the situation, turned to Professor Alexander, who met his gaze with a mixture of fear and determination. The two knew they were facing an overwhelming threat, and the urgency to find an escape route grew more critical with each passing moment.

Professor Alexander, recognizing the gravity of the situation, turned to Jormund and spoke with determination, "We have no choice, Jormund. We must fight our way through. Destroy them, and we can make it out alive!"

Jormund, maintaining a somewhat lighthearted tone despite the chaos, quipped, "Guess I always wanted to dance with the undead. Let's make this a memorable performance!"

With a swift motion, Jormund manifested Hypergenesis, his stand, in front of him. Each punch carried the power of "Amplify," knocking back or tearing through the approaching undead. However, to Jormund's dismay, they kept rising.

Turning to Professor Alexander, Jormund questioned, "Professor, it's like they never stay down! What do we do?"

Professor Alexander, displaying his own unique abilities, calmly initiated a self-controlled respiration. Ripples of solar energy emanated from his body as he delivered precise punches to the undead falling from the ceiling. Each touch disintegrated them into dust, preventing any chance of regeneration.

Professor Alexander reassured Jormund, "Destroy them completely, Jormund! We can't afford to let any of them come back. Keep fighting, and we'll find a way out of here!"

Jormund, witnessing Professor Alexander's Hamon in action, was intrigued. "What was that technique you used, Professor? It was incredible!"

Professor Alexander, focused on the ongoing battle, spared a quick explanation, "It's called Hamon, an ancient breathing technique creating similar energy like of the sun. We can discuss it later, but right now, we need to deal with these undead."

Jormund quickly assessed the situation, realizing the need for a plan. Surveying his surroundings, he spotted a series of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. With a spark of inspiration, he turned to Professor Alexander, "We can use the chandeliers! If we can bring them down, it might create a barrier between us and the undead. I'll use Hypergenesis to enhance my strength and knock them loose. Can you cover me?"

Professor Alexander nodded in agreement, "Go for it, Jormund! I'll hold them off as best as I can!"

Jormund, with renewed determination, unleashed the power of Hypergenesis. With amplified strength, he lunged towards the chandeliers, delivering powerful blows. The first chandelier crashed down, creating a makeshift barricade between them and the relentless undead. Jormund continued his assault, strategically targeting other hanging structures to fortify their defense.

As Professor Alexander continued to clear a path through the corridor, Jormund skillfully utilized the chandeliers to keep the undead at bay. The echoing crashes of the falling structures created a chaotic symphony, temporarily halting the relentless advance.

In the midst of the chaos, Professor Alexander's voice cut through, "Jormund! We won't make it through here! We need to jump out the window!"

Jormund, mid-swing with Hypergenesis, acknowledged with a nod and a shout, "Got it!" He redirected Hypergenesis towards the window, shattering it with a powerful strike.

With a quick glance at each other, they both leaped out of the broken window. Fortunately, a small roof beneath them softened the fall. They slid down its slope, landing with a solid thud in the courtyard. A brief moment of relief washed over them as they caught their breath, the undead menace temporarily left behind.

As they caught their breaths, Professor Alexander glanced around the courtyard, realizing that the undead had not followed them outside. He turned to Jormund, "That was close. We need to find a way to destroy that mask before more undead show up."

The courtyard of the Joestar Mansion was a mixture of overgrown vegetation and ancient stonework. Cracked statues adorned the area, and the once well-maintained garden had given way to the wild. Jormund and Professor Alexander found themselves in this eerie place, the echoes of their footsteps amplified by the tall walls that surrounded them.

As they caught their breath in the courtyard, they noticed a figure at the window they had jumped from. A spectral knight, peered down at them with hollow, glowing eyes, his undead presence sending shivers down their spines.

The voice of the figure, resonating with an undead tone, echoed through the courtyard, "Why was this place ripped out of time and space?"

Confused by the question, Jormund and Professor Alexander asked in unison, "Who the hell even are you!?"

The spectral knight, now angered, responded, "I am Graveheart, a former servant of my master! You worthless mortals aren't worth for further questioning." Before Graveheart could make a move, Jormund, with newfound confidence, exclaimed, "WAIT! I will now use my special technique, taught by each Joestar generation!"

Graveheart, surprised by the declaration, stoped confused as Jormund turned to Professor Alexander, grabbed his arm, and without further explanation, bolted towards the front gate while pulling the professor after him, yelling, "RUNNING AWAY!" at the top of his lungs. Professor Alexander, though initially taken aback, quickly followed Jormund's lead, dashing towards the front gate in an attempt to escape Graveheart's menacing presence.

As Graveheart regained his composure, he swiftly jumped down into the courtyard, his undead army following suit. The relentless pursuit had begun, with the echo of footsteps and the ominous presence of the undead becoming more palpable.

Between breaths, Professor Alexander, with a hint of concern, asked Jormund, "Shouldn't we stand and fight him? We might have a chance."

Jormund, panting heavily, replied with a fearful tone, "I ain't fighting a damn ghost of the past with an entire army of undeads for backup. We need to keep running!" Fear crept into his voice as he looked over his shoulders, witnessing Graveheart and the relentless undead horde drawing ever closer. The urgency in his tone was palpable as they continued their desperate sprint towards the front gate.

Barely reaching the front gate, Jormund and Professor Alexander tumbled through it, escaping the strike that Graveheart was about to deliver. As they fell to the ground outside the mansion, they heard the echoes of Graveheart's furious roar. However, to their astonishment, the entire Joestar mansion vanished into thin air.

Lying on the ground, catching their breath, Jormund managed a shaky laugh as he spoke up, "Remind me never to do something like that again. Ghosts and undead armies? Definitely not my kind of adventure."

Professor Alexander chuckled in response to Jormund's joke. "You're right, Jormund. Ghosts and undead armies are not on my preferred list of adventures either. But, we might never find out exactly how that mansion jumped through time. I'll have to inquire with the foundation when I deliver the mask. It's beyond our knowledge."

As they lay there, recovering from the harrowing experience, the mystery of the Joestar mansion lingered, shrouded in the unknown.

".... the Speedwagon foundation assumed that all the time abilities of certain stands could have caused this bug in time and space, but they never were sure about that theory." Jormund finishes his story.

Clay, being the down-to-earth dragon he is, scratched his head and remarked, "Well, that's one strange story. Ghosts and undeads, huh? Can't say I've ever dealt with that before."

Sunny, always curious and adventurous, had a glint of excitement in her eyes. "Wow, JoJo, your world sounds like a mix of dragons, magic, and bizarre adventures. I never thought there could be so many things beyond Pyrrhia."

Tsunami, more accustomed to battles, raised an eyebrow, "So, you faced an army of the undead? That's a new one. I bet we could take them down with some teamwork."

Glory, with a slight smirk, added, "Ghosts, time-traveling mansions, and undead armies. Sounds like a gripping tale. I hope you're not expecting something like that to happen here."

Cinder, having listened in silence, finally spoke up, "Interesting tale, JoJo. But I'm glad we don't have to deal with any of that right now."

Jormund chuckled slightly before responding to the shocked reactions, "Well, in my world, we don't have dragons. Just a mix of humans, weird creatures, and the occasional supernatural anomaly. No majestic dragons ruling the skies, unfortunately."

Clay's eyes widened, "No dragons? How do you even survive without dragons?"

Sunny looked perplexed, "But dragons are a part of the natural order! How can there be no dragons?"

Tsunami, with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, added, "No dragons? That sounds... strange. What creatures dominate your world then?"

Glory and Cinder exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the oversight in their previous questions as Jormund corrected himself. Jormund continued, "Let me clarify that a bit. We do have dragons in a sense, but they are mythical creatures, part of our stories and legends. In reality, no living, breathing dragons soar through our skies. As for rulers, well, that would be us humans."

Clay scratched his head, "So, you have stories about dragons, but they're not real?"

Jormund nodded, "Exactly. Dragons are more like symbols and legends in our world, not creatures you can touch or talk to. We humans are the dominant species, for better or worse."

Sunny pondered, "No real dragons? That's a bit sad. Dragons are amazing!"

Tsunami, with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, asked, "And humans rule your world? How does that work?"

Jormund sighed, "It's a complex thing, really. We have societies, governments, and all that, but it's not always as harmonious as it should be."

As the sun began its descent, casting an orange hue across the landscape, a collective yawn passed through the group. Tsunami, noticing a chance for some playful banter, smirked and asked Jormund, "Hey, Jojo, are you afraid of ghosts?"

Jormund, caught slightly off guard, shifted uncomfortably and admitted, "Well, you see, ghosts... I might be a little afraid of them. Just a bit."

Just as he settled back down, Glory couldn't resist the opportunity. With a mischievous grin, she suddenly exclaimed, "Watch out, there is Graveheart!" Jormund, genuinely startled, jumped up, whirling around in shock, asking frantically, "Where?!"

Laughter erupted from the group as they enjoyed the playful prank. Jormund, realizing he fell victim to the joke, chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, you got me there. Ghosts, though... yeah, they give me the creeps," he admitted, trying to maintain some humor about it.

Cinder, ever vigilant, suggested, "Maybe it's a good idea to extinguish the fire. We wouldn't want to draw any unwanted attention at night. What do you all think? And it might be time to rest as well."

The idea found unanimous agreement among the dragons. Clay, being the closest to the fireplace, casually stepped forward and, with a gentle trampling motion, put out the fire with one of his front paws, leaving them in the soothing darkness of the night.

Curious observing the dragons piling up for the night, Jormund found himself uncertain about where to rest. However, Cinder's considerate voice reached him, offering a spot beside him under the warmth of his wing.

"Hey, JoJo," Cinder spoke, "you can sleep right here beside me. It should be warmer under my wing."

Jormund, appreciating the gesture, nodded and made his way toward Cinder. As he laid down beside the dragon, he expressed his gratitude, "Thanks, Cinder. That's thoughtful of you." The warmth and comfort of Cinder's wing became a welcome embrace, providing a sense of security under the starlit sky and it's three moons.

In the shadowy outskirts near the SkyWings' palace, a mysterious figure lingered beneath the branches of a gargantuan tree, patiently awaiting the arrival of a dragon that never came.

Frustration etched across the person's face, he muttered to no one in particular, "As expected, the red dragon has failed."

Expressing his frustration to the empty air, the individual summoned his Stand, "Destiny Scribe." The otherworldly entity materialized, taking on a spectral form reminiscent of a Lich. It hovered above the ground, clad in robes that resembled unfurled scrolls, with a book clutched firmly in its ethereal hands.

Addressing his Stand, the person demanded, "Show me the threads of destiny."

Destiny Scribe opened its book, revealing a complex web of intertwining strands. Some threads merged harmoniously, while others remained isolated. Some split apart, and a few ended abruptly.

The person scrutinized the intricate patterns, his gaze fixating on a specific thread. Speaking to himself once more, he concluded, "It seems heading south would be a better course than following them."

With a nod, the Destiny Scribe vanished as the person decisively made his way in the southern direction, guided by the unseen forces that governed the tapestry of destiny.