Millisecond Save

His heart pounding, Giorno refused to budge an inch, choosing to confront the charging Berserker head-on. He braced himself for impact, his unbroken arm taut and ready to strike. With a roar, Berserker swung his massive arm from the left, his intent to crush Giorno like a bug. In a split second, Giorno agilely sidestepped, the wind of the swing brushing past him.

With lightning reflexes, Giorno kicked off the ground, propelling himself towards Berserker. As he closed the gap, his arm erupted with a radiant golden energy that grew brighter by the second. With an explosive uppercut, Giorno unleashed his energy in a blinding flash, his fist connecting with Berserker's helmet. The force of the impact reverberated through Giorno's body as Berserker was thrown back, staggering under the weight of the blow.

Berserker's eyes burned with an intense fire that flickered like a wild flame, its muscles bulged as it let out a deafening roar that echoed through the surrounding dock. Its body quivered with a ferocity that could not be tamed. Giorno's Stand tried to break through the beast's mental fortitude, but it was like trying to part a raging river with bare hands. The beast was driven purely by its primal instincts and showed no mercy to its opponent.

Berserker lunged forward, its massive frame crashing into Giorno with a force that sent him hurtling through the air. Giorno hit the ground, his body bouncing and rolling like a ragdoll, sending up clouds of dust and debris in his wake.

As Giorno struggled to regain his bearings, he realized that he was in grave danger. Berserk was upon him, its black armor glinting in the moonlight. Giorno tried to get to his feet, but the beast was too quick, lashing out with one of its armored legs and sending him flying once again.

But suddenly, a thunderous rumble interrupted the chaos, drowning out all other sounds. A chariot thundered onto the scene, its wheels spinning wildly and kicking up dust in its wake. The Berserker was caught off guard and sent tumbling through the air by the sheer force of the charge.

As the dust settled, Iskandar emerged from his chariot, his presence commanding attention. He drew a short sword from his scabbard, its glinting edge catching the moonlight. The weapon was a Greek-style short sword, its intricate details etched onto the hilt and blade.

A mischievous grin spread across Iskandar's face as he stepped toward Giorno. The sun was rising, casting a warm orange glow across the horizon as the two men stood face to face.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself into quite the predicament, my friend," Iskandar said with a hearty chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Giorno's clothes were torn and tattered, his hair disheveled and sweat glistening on his forehead.

Giorno's lips quivered in a half-smile at the sight of the larger man. "I can handle it," Giorno replied, his voice confident but tinged with exhaustion.

Iskandar's expression turned serious as he leaned in close to Giorno, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "But why to handle it alone when you have me?" he said, his words dripping with playful sarcasm. "I can't let you have all the fun, can I?"

Giorno couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Iskandar's larger-than-life personality, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the thought of having some help.

The berserker's body tensed as he prepared to strike, his muscles bulging and his breath coming out in furious gusts. Iskandar's eyes widened as he saw the incoming danger, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped forward with the grace of a dancer, his feet light on the ground. As the berserker swung his massive weapon, Iskandar met him head-on, his sword flashing like a bolt of lightning.

The clash was deafening, the sound of metal on a tusk echoing through the chamber like thunder. Sparks flew from the point of impact, illuminating the fierce expressions on both warriors' faces. Iskandar's eyes blazed with a fierce determination, while the berserker's teeth were bared in a snarl of pure rage.

But Iskandar wasn't content to merely deflect the berserker's attack. With a roar that shook the very air, he charged forward, his sword whistling through the air. The berserker met him blow for blow, their weapons clashing in a shower of sparks.

The atmosphere seemed to spin around them as they fought, their movements a blur of speed and fury. Iskandar's sword flashed like a comet, striking with the force of a thunderbolt. The berserker roared in defiance, his weapon swinging with deadly intent.

Giorno sprang to his feet, his hand instinctively flying to the searing pain radiating from his wounds. Golden light erupted from his stand, shrouding his body in a warm, radiant glow. It was as if the very essence of life itself had taken hold of him, mending the broken bones that were shattered by Berserker only minutes before. With a sickening crunch, the shattered fragments reformed and knit together, becoming whole once more.

Giorno's power was a double-edged sword, a tool that he had learned to wield with precision and care. But healing himself in this way was not its intended use, and the pain that wracked his body was almost unbearable. Yet he gritted his teeth and bore it stoically, his face betraying nothing of the agony he was enduring.

Iskandar had been entrenched in a fierce battle, sweat pouring down his brow and muscles straining with every move. With a quick step back, he took a momentary respite.

But in that fleeting moment, Giorno saw his chance. Like a bolt of lightning, he surged forward with unparalleled speed and ferocity, his body a blur of motion as he closed the gap between himself and Berserker.

With a swift motion, Giorno slammed his foot onto the ground, causing a sudden eruption of greenery. The vines rapidly entwined around the towering Berserker, trapping him in a cocoon of verdant embrace.

Giorno seized the opportunity to launch a fierce assault on the menacing foe. His fists, like hammer blows, pounded relentlessly on Berserker's weapon. The sound of metal clashing against flesh echoed throughout the battlefield, accompanied by the grunts and groans of the two combatants.

Giorno's fury ignited like a blazing inferno, as he took one last kick at the tusk, shattering it into a million shards. The deafening crack echoed in the air, as the remains of the tusk scattered on the ground like broken glass. The berserker, bound and helpless, writhing in agony, struggling against the suffocating vines that ensnared it. But the more it resisted, the more it suffered, as the thorns of the vines dug deeper into its flesh, drawing blood.

Unfazed by the commotion, Giorno marched forward with a determined gait, his eyes fixed on Berserker.

With excruciating effort, the vines finally gave way and released Berserker's arm from their grasp. The warrior's gauntleted hand closed around the tendrils, causing them to wither and turn black under his touch. The vines had become his new weapon, a manifestation of his formidable Noble Phantasm. Giorno's grip on the plants slackened, and he felt the power he had once held over them slipping away.

In a swift motion, Berserker unleashed his vines like a pack of snarling beasts, their barbed tips aimed directly at Giorno. But before he could even take a step, a flash of crimson light sliced through the air like a scythe, cutting through the thick vines with ease. The plant tendrils crumbled into pieces before Giorno's eyes, showering the ground with blackened debris.