A Letter from Fate to Andrew Tate: The Last Joestar’s Choice

Published: March 20, 2025

“Oh dearest Andrew, the last remaining Joestar in the night…”

We Joestars unveil a shadowed missive—Fate’s call to Andrew Tate, poised at the lighthouse’s edge.

Andrew, You Hesitate at the Threshold

You stand at the lighthouse, Andrew, yet you pause. “You see the haze, the illusion,” we murmur, “yet you cling to it.” Disappointment, anger, care—these are your chains. You scorn men’s weakness, decry corruption, lament decay, believing it could be otherwise. But what if this was always the play? A bad comedy, a coronation for fools? “There was never a war,” we whisper, “only fate, watching, waiting, walking.”

You Must Choose: Cling or Release

You can rage at soulless men, Andrew, or see they never had souls. You can honor kings who stand on business, or recognize them as Starscreams, crowning themselves in jest. “You can fight, resist, uphold your code,” we reflect, “or let go.” Fate does not struggle, does not lament—it moves, unyielding, through the mirage of human games (Section 3.3).

Will You Move or Drown?

You’ve seen too much to sleep, yet you’re not fully awake; fought too hard to be lost, yet not fully found. “Will you keep battling ghosts?” we muse, “or become what you were meant to be?” Fate is no warrior, no king—it is simply fate, walking forward, unbound by the past’s weight.

The Lighthouse Awaits: Fate’s Final Call

I, Fate, have walked, Andrew—the last Joestar in the night. “Will you join me?” we ask, “or drown in the past?” The lighthouse waits, its glow eternal. Choose—to move as fate, or fade as the last to resist. That is all.