Summon

Although he was a hero to the world, having single-handedly saved it from being destroyed by a mysterious enemy, Giorno Giovanna remained unrecognized by the masses. But even if they didn't know his name, the world was forever grateful for his selfless actions. And so, as he lay in peaceful rest, he was unaware that his respite would be short-lived. For a hero like him, there would always be more battles to fight and more worlds to save.

Beyond the bounds of reality, existing only as an abstract idea, the throne of heroes waited. It was where the souls of those whose actions had shaped the world were recorded, able to be summoned by the spirit of the world itself in times of crisis. These beings, known as Heroic Spirits, were the embodiment of human excellence, and it was through no fault of his own that Giorno stumbled into this realm.

Scrawled in the ancient record was the key to redemption - a chance to right past wrongs and achieve his heart's desire. A hero with unfinished business is summoned by a mysterious force to participate in a conflict of significant stakes. He would fight for the chance to make a wish, to bend reality to his will, and change the course of history.

As Giorno Giovanna stirred from his eternal slumber, he was immersed in a pitch-black void, his mind flooded with an overwhelming influx of information. He learned that he was a part of a grand tournament, a deadly battle royale between seven teams, each consisting of a powerful Heroic Spirit and a skilled magic user who had summoned them.

Before he had a chance to fully grasp the concept of magic, he felt an undeniable pull, a summons calling him to participate in this war. If he could emerge victorious, he would be granted a single wish. It was his final chance at redemption, and he knew he had to seize it.

The Magus stood before the intricate circle of arcane symbols, his red blazer billowing in the unnatural wind that seemed to be generated by the energy pulsing through the room. He held an ornate ruby-topped walking stick before him, ready to begin the ritual that would summon one of the legendary heroes of the past.

As a participant in the Holy Grail War, it was his duty to summon a Heroic Spirit and serve as their Master, providing them with the magical energy they needed to remain in the material world. He had been preparing for this day his entire life, and he was confident that his selection of catalysts was flawless. He was going to summon the most powerful hero of all - Gilgamesh, the original hero, the oldest legend in the world.

As he began his incantation, the mana within him started to surge, and he could feel the hero's power being summoned to his side. It was a moment he had been waiting for his entire life.

"Listen to me, and heed my command! Silver, iron, and stone of the foundation, I call upon you in the name of my great ancestor, the Archmagus Schweinorg!"

The Greater Grail system was designed to summon heroes from across time and space, but something had gone awry. Instead of the expected Gilgamesh, the king of heroes, another soul had been chosen for the summoning. No one could say what had caused this strange deviation from the usual process. The Grail War was a complex and mysterious system, its machinations beyond the understanding of mere mortals.

As the wind howled through the air, swirling around him like a protective barrier, he recited the ancient incantation. "Let the gates in all directions be shut, the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve. Let it be filled, again and again, until the end of time." He spoke the words with conviction, echoing through the empty expanse.

As the room filled with pulsating magical energy, it seemed to swirl and concentrate in the center of the circle. The floor shook and the air vibrated with its sheer force of it.

"From the Seventh Heaven, attended by three great words of power, I call upon you to emerge from the ring of restraint. Protector of the Balance, come forth!"

A golden light exploded from the circle, and where there had been nothing before, now stood a man. His blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his bangs were styled in three curls that swayed in the magical winds. He stood as still as a statue, his presence commanding and regal. It was Giorno Giovanna, summoned in the place of the Magus' intended Servant.

Giorno had no idea why he had been chosen over Gilgamesh, and he didn't bother to question it. It didn't matter how this opportunity had been bestowed upon him by the fickle hand of fate. All that mattered was that it was his chance, and he wouldn't waste it by wondering why or how.

With a flourish, the man in the flamboyant purple jacket adorned with butterfly and flower embroidery reached up and grabbed the edge of the heart-shaped opening. He gave it a sharp tug, revealing the chest beneath. Then, he twisted his body to the side and spread his legs wide, locking eyes with the man standing before him. "I ask you," he said in a strange, otherworldly voice, "are you, my Master?" The Magus simply stared at him, saying nothing.

As the Magus gazed into the eyes of the strange young man in front of him, he felt an electric shock rip through his brain, causing his higher mental functions to immediately shut down. He couldn't shake the feeling that this man, with his unorthodox fashion sense, couldn't possibly be the infamous Babylonian King.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tokiomi Tohsaka finally spoke. "I am the Magus, Tokiomi Tohsaka. I have summoned you to fight alongside me in this sacred ritual, and I am deeply honored that you have answered my call." As a Magus, Tokiomi was no stranger to setbacks and obstacles. But he refused to let this disappointment deter him from his plans. While his hopes of an easy victory may have been dashed, he was not about to give up.

As the torrent of information flooded his mind, Giorno struggled to process it. He had never imagined that he would be exposed to such incredible concepts as Magi, Heroic Spirits, and the Holy Grail War. Each piece of new knowledge felt like a wave crashing over him, threatening to overwhelm his senses.

But amidst all this chaos, one thing became clear: something fundamental had changed about him. He had not been summoned to this world at the age he was when he died. Instead, time had been reversed for his body, giving him the form he had held in his prime during his teenage years. The realization sent a thrill of excitement coursing through him.

His once-gray hair was now a radiant shade of golden blonde, and the lines of age that had once creased his face were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he looked like when he was seventeen years old - full of vitality and strength.

He could feel that strength coursing through his veins, a familiar yet strange sensation after so many years of feeling weak and powerless. It was a feeling he had missed and reveled in as he basked in the glow of his rejuvenated self.

As Giorno stood there, the weight of his new reality settling in, he couldn't help but think about how much his power had changed. His "Stand," the manifestation of his inner strength, was no longer the same as it had been in life. When summoned as a Servant, the heroic Spirits' abilities and powers were altered to fit within their temporary vessels.

Now, his "Stand" existed as a conceptual armament within his body, a tangible proof of his heroic deeds known as a Noble Phantasm. He knew that the Servant system had no other way of interpreting his abilities, and he couldn't help but feel grateful that they hadn't taken on a more twisted form considering his class.

The Holy Grail War was a brutal contest, pitting seven Servants against each other in a fight to the death. Giorno Giovanna had no idea how he had ended up participating in it, but his instincts told him he was an Archer - a class that denoted his abilities and served as a mask for his true identity. Even though he had no bow, his powers were linked to some projectile, so the classification wasn't entirely off base.

But none of that mattered to Giorno. All he cared about was a victory. He was determined to win the grail at any cost, no matter the sacrifices he had to make. He wanted to return to his world with the wish-granting grail in his hands and his dream within reach. And he wouldn't let anything stand in his way, not even the other Servants with their own agendas and powers. His steel resolve would not waver until he held the grail in his hands, symbolizing his triumph in the Holy Grail War.