Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John Constantine always expected the worst, so he prepared for the worst. This way, he was hardly ever surprised. It was a pragmatic and life saving mindset when dealing with the occult, demons and people even more shit than he was. But his current situation was neither the worst (he thought so far anyway) but it was surprising. And that pissed him off. There he was, conjuring a simple travel spell to meet Zatanna in her apartment for - nevermind what for - when his portal began to warp and turn a sickly green. He first thought it was Poison Ivy. With how much Constantine had been seen with the Batman lately, it would make sense for his enemies to test their fate with the Occult Detective. But when he was sucked into the portal against his will and came crashing down onto a hard surface, he realised this was something much more interesting. The lack of leaves was a bit of a giveaway, too. 

He now stood upon what he could only describe as a meteor. It was deathly cool to the touch and stuck out in uneven craggy spikes where it dropped off into an infinite abyss. The atmosphere had sufficient oxygen in it, but it certainly wasn’t Earth’s. Nor was it space; the murky ether glowed the same sickly green his portal had turned and struck him with cold shivers with every wisp of strange wind. Where did the wind come from? Not important. Floating haphazardly around the ether for as far as his eye could see were various similar meteors and lonely doors of all different shapes, sizes, colours and levels of nope. John brought his coat closer over his chest and lit a cigarette between his teeth. His frown deepened when he saw dark green shadows weave between the floating décor of this new dimension. Strange sounds licked his ear. They were sharp, curious, and deeply unsettling, which was saying a lot considering he was friends with demons whose voices could literally summon portals to Hell. 

A chilling wail echoed throughout the air. 

“And that’s my cue to get outta dodge,” John grumbled. He wasn’t in the mood to explore new worlds. He was in the mood for something beginning with Z. He extended his hand forward and summoned his magic. His hand began to glow an eerie gold but as the energy leapt from his fingertips it fizzled out. John took a large final puff from his cigarette. He dropped it to the ground and stomped it out. Shaking his hand, he tried again. But again, the magic dissipated into the strange atmosphere, barely leaving his fingers. “That’s not good.” To drive home his dire sentiments, a hoard of shadows ambushed him and spun around in dizzying fashion. He spotted faces on the many shadows, their eyes piercing into his very soul. Constantine gritted his teeth. The spectral glow radiating off the creatures pissed him off even more. Ghosts. I hate ghosts. Demons, fine, monsters, fine, supervillains, fine. Ghosts can fuck off! They were unpredictable and chaotic, clinging to the mortal realm in whatever way they can. He had to be extra crafty when dealing with them, too, as physical magical attacks did little to ward them off. After all, you can’t fight what you can’t touch. The rare moments he had access to blood blossoms were the only times he was able to physically harm them. He was grateful for the few times he’d encountered ghosts, but hadn’t done a whole lot of research on them. Mainly because there wasn’t a lot on them. Constantine, however, did know better than to tick off ghosts. He had a scar to remind him. “I mean you no harm!” he shouted through the shrilling cries of his ghost assailants. “I came here by accident. But my magic doesn’t seem to work here and I can’t leave.”

Then a soul shaking voice belted through the cacophony and into John’s mind. “Cease!” The ghouls slowed and finally came to a halt, surrounding Constantine shoulder to shoulder. Their shapes were vague blobs of various shades of green and black and blue. The source of the command floated down from above and came face to… eye with the con Detective. The creature before him had a humanoid body, albeit lanky and thin, clothed in white and gold robes with a dark cape. But atop its inhuman shoulders was a single, smooth green mound with a lonely,  large, red streaked eye. One clawed hand fluttered eagerly by its side. The other reached forward and pointed with a jagged finger towards Constantine. Human!” the creature hummed through his consciousness. “You are trespassing.” Constantine realised the creature didn’t have a mouth, so Mind Speak was an appropriate form of communication. But he hated Mind Speak. He could already feel a headache coming on...

“ Apologies for that. But like I said, I didn't mean to come ‘ere and now I can’t leave. Help a bloke out?” he said with a slight smile, gesturing to himself innocently. 

The one eyed monster clicked his fingers and suddenly John was seized by two of the ghostly guards. “You will be taken to the Council of Observants for trial.”

“On what charge!” Constantine demand. He struggled against his captors to no avail. 

“The Phantom Clause states that all humans who arrive to the Ghost Zone without His assistance are trespassing.” John's feet lifted from the ground. Phantom Clause? The Ghost Zone? Was that another phrase for the Phantom Zone? If it was, he was in a right mess and he unfortunately didn't have Superman on speed dial. He made a mental note to get onto Clarkie’s good side, starting with reducing his swearing around the Boy Scout. But this didn’t seem like the Phantom Zone, at least, not from how Clark had described it. Was this a whole new dimension just for ghosts? Was he really being taken to Ghost jail? Surely it couldn’t be worse than demon jail. Or the LAPD county jail...

Another, powerful voice came echoing from behind the entourage. “The Phantom Clause further states that all human trespassers are to be handed over to the King heir, to me!”

John was whisked around by his captors to view the new ghoul. He floated several feet above the group and looked down upon them with fierce, radioactive green eyes creased between a frown. His snowy, gravity defying hair was crowned with a thin band of blue ice littered with green jewels. The crowned weaved passed his pointed ears and blended into his pale bluish skin. The ghost wore a black, modern-looking battle suit, accented with white plates, gloves and boots, with a white ‘DP’ insignia on his chest. In his right hand was a long-sword made entirely of ice and it was pointed at the Observant. The other ghouls seemed to shy away and avert their gaze. John’s captors also loosened their grips on his shoulders. The new ghost - the King heir? - commanded a striking presence, aided by the bright ethereal glow which emanated off his entire body. Despite this, on closer inspection John realised that the ghost appeared rather young. Perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. However, John knew ghosts’ appearances were deceiving. For all he knew, this prince could be a thousand years old! 

“Lord Phantom,” the Observant gravelled, bowing its head and clasping its hands together respectfully. “We were simply going to take this human to the Council for processing while we awaited your arrival.”

“Like how you took Sam to the Council for processing? Like how you made a deal with Undergrowth to use her as a tool to usurp me!” Phantom growled, shaking the general vicinity. He swiped his sword and lifted it high into the air. “From this moment forth all manner of creatures from Earth will be taken to the Fenton Portal immediately.”

The observant closed its eye and seemed to growl timidly. Its fists tightened, turning the knuckles white. “As you wish, King heir”. And with that, the ghosts separated, some disappearing into the ether and others rushing away, chaotically chasing each other. The Observant lingered for a short moment, only forced away with a final glare from Phantom. The ghosts holding John disappeared and he braced himself for impact, expecting to fall back onto the rock. Instead, he floated in the ether, as if he were swimming. He relaxed back into this new sensation, placing his hands in his pockets.

“I s’pose I should thank you for that. Thanks.” Phantom regarded him with a quizzical eye, raising one eyebrow. 

“How did you get here?”

John sighed dramatically. He drew out another cigarette and placed it between his teeth. “For the last time, I didn’t mean to. I was casting a travel spell and then my portal went all ghostly and the next thing I knew I landed on that there rock. I tried to get back to where I was but my magic didn’t seem to work. Maybe ‘cause part o’ the trick is to know where I am to get to where I’m goin’. And I’ve no idea where I am!” 

A glimmer of realisation flickered through the blue speckles in Phantom’s green eyes. “You ARE John Constantine!” Before John could react, Phantom had grabbed him by the shoulder and whisked him through another portal.

Chapter Text

The pair emerged into the bright light of the midday sun on a clear day. John squinted as his eyes adjusted to the new environment. He heard a seagull squawk overhead and the lapping of water against a seawall. He would have said he was in England, if it wasn’t for the bloody blazing sun reigning fire upon him. His eyes finally adjusted. He was standing in a small, grassy park, on the shore of a harbour which stretched infinitely before him, curving and twisting around the natural rocky, sandstone cliffs surrounding them. He could see houses lining some of the headlands, and a city skyline breaching the top of a small hill in the distance. He followed the skyline to the break in the harbour and saw the very thing he was expecting. A large grey, curved bridge stretched across the harbour in the distance. John grumbled. Sydney was far too sunny and hot for his liking. But this alcove Phantom had brought him to wasn’t all that bad.

“Now why’dya take me ‘ere?” he turned around to face Phantom, finally lighting his cigarette. “And why’dya help me? Who are you?”

Phantom had lost the sword and crown and his glow seemed to blend into the sunlight. He stood beside John, only several inches shorter. The playful twinkle in his eyes completely expelled the illusion of royalty from John’s mind. Now he just looked like a curious kid, albeit a dead one. The ghost kid stuck out his hand. “The name’s Phantom, and this here is my city. I helped you because you’re a human and I protect Earth from the perils of the Zone, and because you’re John flipping Constantine and this is the best day of my afterlife!” He was shaking John’s hand furiously now, his grin growing wider by the second. John frowned and looked at the gesture. Phantom immediately let go and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry. I’m just excited.” Whoever this kid was, he was no ordinary ghost. What ghost went around protecting human cities, and praising the likes of Constantine?

“You know me?”

“Hell yes! You’re a superhero, you help the Justice League, you stopped that demon guy in the orb in Metropolis last year from taking over the world.”

John’s frown deepened. “I’m no superhero. I’m not into the silly costumes and capes. I only help the League ‘cause if it’s bad news for them it’s usually bad news for me. And you still haven’t really answered my question. Who are you?”

“I’m Phantom,” the ghost kid repeated with a huff and a cross of his arms. John raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, dude, I’m Phantom. Ghost kid extraordinaire? Saviour of Amity Park.”

“Nup. Never ‘eard of ya.”

The kid scrunched up his face. “Typical rest of the world ignoring what Australia does. Australia is ground zero for spectral activity and I protect the world from the malevolent spirits which seek harm upon the Earth.”

“Didn’t realise Australia had superheroes. Only villains. Or villain.”

“You mean Captain Boomerang?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

Phantom snorted. “I find that egregiously offensive. Not all Australians know each other, y’know. Do you know the Queen?” John folded his arms and smirked. An Australian ghost? Now that’s a laugh. “Ok, yes I do know Boomi. That man can hold his liquor… Did you know he can down a yardstick in under a minute?” A very Australian ghost. And no, John did not know that. He also didn’t know what to do with that information.

“You’re a whole lot less terrifying in the real world, kid.”

“Well, I’m only King heir to the Ghost Zone. Out here I’m just a teenage vigilante.”

“I thought you were a superhero.”

“Depends on the tabloid you read.”

John broke his stern gaze and laughed. He finished up his cigarette and stomped it into the ground. Phantom gasped and launched upon the butt and threw it into a bin nearby. “Did you forget the part where I protect the Earth!” John rolled his eyes and chuckled again to himself.

“Now, do’ya mind telling me how I got pulled into the Ghost Zone? And what the Ghost Zone is?” Phantom was getting increasingly more interesting with every utterance he made. And he seemed harmless enough… human enough, so John decided it was safe to keep digging. Just as long as he didn’t ask how he died, he would be fine. He had another scar to remind him of that one.

Phantom floated next to him and crossed his legs. He tilted his head and frowned. “You mean, you don’t know? I would assume a man in your… field would know of the very dimension which connects all the dimensions.” John shook his head and shrugged. “It’s also known as the Infinite Realm. Heard of that?”

Constantine paced away and held his finger to his chin. “Infinite Realm? The dimension which converges upon all other dimensions? The purgatory before purgatory? I thought it was a myth.”

“We all thought Amazonians were a myth until Wonder Woman arrived.”

“Touche. But that still doesn’t explain why it interfered with my magic.”

“Ah,” Phantom grunted, scratching his neck again. “That probably has something to do with… me. I’m sure you detected some…” he pursed his lips together, “ tension between me and the other ghosts.”

“What does a political spat have to do with anything?”

“I’m getting there!” Phantom sighed dramatically. “The Ghost Zone and mortal realms are intrinsically linked. Any instability here means instability there and vice versa. And that political spat is causing more instability there than you can even imagine. And until I can resolve it it’s going to continue to cause you problems whenever you try to manipulate space.”

“Well, fix it then. I don’t fancy going to ghost jail next time I try to cast a spell.”

Phantom unfurled his legs and placed his hand to his chin in thought. Then he clicked and with one simple swish of his wrist he produced a beautiful ice crystal not dissimilar to a Krytonian crystal Constantine had seen once before. He zapped the crystal with a blast of green energy, infusing the glacial blue relic with his spectral power. The centre of the crystal pulsated with the weird substance, almost as if it were alive. The ghost kid handed it to Constantine who took it suspiciously, examining the strange object all over. “This will ease your passage through portals. If your spells begin to warp, point this towards the portal until it stabilises.”

“How’dya figure?”

“This crystal is my own creation and has my ecto-signature on it. Pointing it to your portal will release the energy inside and trick whatever Zone force is interfering with the spell into thinking you’re me, allowing you to transport yourself wherever.”

John grunted. He summoned his magic and a portal appeared before him. Predictably the portal began to warp and turn green. Constantine looked at the crystal skeptically before pointing it towards the magic. A steady beam of Phantom’s energy projected from the crystal into the portal, calming the swirling energy until it was stable. “What do you know, it works. Thanks again, kid.”

“Where are you going?”

“You said Australia was ground zero for spectral activity, right? Mind if I stay in your city and ‘ave a little look around?”

The ghost shrugged nonchalantly. “Not at all.” Within a heartbeat the heat of the sun disappeared around Constantine and suddenly the Phantom was nose to nose with him, floating an inch above, staring daggers into John. His eyes were blazon again and his breath sent chills through the detective. “Just don’t get messed up in my business again!”

John raised his hands in surrender and made a cross over his heart. “Detective’s honour,” he said with a wink. Then he stepped through the portal and was gone.

Chapter Text

Danny landed atop the Amity Park silo which stood upon a hill, allowing him to look over the entire suburban district. In the distance was the Sydney skyline, glowing in the setting sun. He groaned and rubbed his face, running a gloved hand through his hair. Why did the day he met a worldwide celebrity superhero have to mean bad news for his hold on power in the Zone? He couldn’t risk any more human interference in the Ghost Zone. There was already a substantial portion of ghosts who distrusted where Danny’s allegiances lay - he was half human, after all. Danny needed to prove to the Zone that he stood for ghosts and would protect them from those humans which seek to exploit ghosts. But to the humans he was the hero who protected them from ghosts. It was times like this when he truly felt like he’d earned the nickname Sam gave him - Walking Purgatory. 

Sam. Danny’s stomach twisted at the thought of her. He had tried everything to contact her for the past three months, but since the incident at the Council of Observants she had gone underground. Even Tucker couldn’t find her. Sam had entered the Ghost Zone without him in order to speak to the Observants, to try and convince them of Danny’s worthiness for the throne and why him being on it would benefit both ghosts and humans. That was stupid. The Zone only cares about ghost affairs, and Danny’s connection to the human world is the very reason there is resistance to his ascension. She was captured and manipulated by Undergrowth, who the Observants had released. Undergrowth controlled Sam once again and threatened to kill her if Danny did not relinquish his title. 

That threw Danny’s obsession into overdrive. He needed to protect Sam, but in the long run, being on the throne would protect the Earth from another tyrant ghost king, his only rival in this match, Vlad Plasmius. Danny invoked his obsession before the Council and denounced Sam as an ally and friend, claiming his obsession to protect included being on the throne to protect ghosts from human invaders. The Council could not refuse this action and so released Sam and thus created the Phantom Clause. When Danny arrived back on Earth, Sam was nowhere to be found. The only clue that told Danny she was ok was a note with her wrist ray on his table, saying: “You chose your side.” Not exactly the most comforting message, but it at least showed that Sam had indeed been released on Earth.

Talk about losing touch after high school. 

After mustering the power to command all the ghosts to protect the Earth and Zone at the end of last year from the spectral meteor, enough ghosts had been convinced that Danny deserved his title of King heir over Plasmius, whose attempts to protect the Earth failed miserably. That dragged Danny into the deep politics of the Ghost Zone. Danny hadn’t been able to command any ghosts since. They were almost as brutal as the anti-ghost anti-vigilante tabloids that gave him a near daily blasting. Vlad’s inputs behind closed doors in the Zone weren’t helping, either. Plasmius hadn’t been seen in the year since the meteor, and his claim to the throne had yet to be officially recognised by the Council. But the growing dissent against Danny’s claim didn’t come from nowhere.

Danny summoned his phone from the pocket dimension and called Tucker. He ought to be finished up studying for the day by now.

“Hey, Tuck, how’s the study? Crack any enigma codes yet?”

“Hey, Danny,” Tucker replied from the other end of the call. “It’s good, and yes, actually. We’re studying that this week. But as fun as it is breaking through hypothetical mainframes, I could use a break right about now..”

“How about a super break?” Danny’s smirk was palpable even through his disembodied voice. 

Tucker gasped. “Hell. Yes. What did you have in mind?”

“We have a visitor and I’d like to keep an eye on him.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

Danny paused for dramatic effect. Took a deep breath in, and spoke. “John. Constantine.”

“ The John Constantine? Bloody Hell, Danny!” Danny went on to relay his encounter with the broody Brit as well as his debacle with the Observant. Danny had tried to keep Tucker out of the entire nasty situation as much as possible, but he was still his best friend so kept him informed of all the political ghostly goings ons. Even if it was just in rant form. Tucker had been too tied down with Uni work for the better part of the year, anyway, to be anymore involved. “First off, sorry about the Observant; that’s super annoying. But secondly, you met John Constantine; that’s super cool. Where is he now?”

“I have a hunch…” Danny grinned, peering off into the distance. “I’ll text you the address when I find him.” And with that Danny hung up and took off back towards the city in search of his new friend. 

********

Phantom

Fenton Portal

Observant

Ghost Zone

King heir

Amity Park

John examined the keywords he’d jotted down into his notebook with a deep frown. Having just left the ghost kid, he was now sitting down in a café in the middle of the city. He’d texted Zatanna to tell her he’s on case and can’t meet her, just so she wouldn’t bite his head off next time he saw her. It was only a half lie. He was investigating something, but he also didn’t want to risk traversing large distances, despite the crystal Phantom gave him. The waitress came around to give him his beer and sandwich.

“Fancy yourself a ghost hunter, huh?” She said with a musical lilt, looking over his shoulder at his notepad. 

“John turned around to face her, relaxing into his seat and meeting her eyes with a slight smile. “A ghost hunter? Are those common ‘round here?”

The waitress shook her head teasingly, swiping a black hair ringlet behind her ear. “You foreigners, never paying attention to us Aussies. Ghost hunters are the talk of the town ever since Danny Phantom popped onto the scene.”

Danny Phantom? How intriguing… “What else can you tell this foreigner about Danny Phantom and ghost hunters? When did he first appear?”

The waitress scrunched up her nose and folded the wait tray under her arm. “Around six years ago? In Amity Park, where I’m from. And ever since he’s been protecting the town, and eventually the city from evil ghosts and evil scientists. He had help, though, of course”

John raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

The girl smiled knowingly and looked away in a blush. “Well, there is another, human hero. Red Huntress. She and Phantom have done several team ups to protect the city. It’s pretty cool. They’ve thwarted G.I.W. conspiracies, Plasmius’s plans, and even saved the world from a spectral meteor last year.” John jotted down Red Huntress, G.I.W. and Plasmius onto his notepad. 

“I don’t recall any meteor threatening the Earth recently.”

“You better brush up on your history, then, Constantine. ”

From the back of the café a loud brash voice called out for the girl. “Valerie! We need you out back!” And with that she left the detective alone, retreating into the cafe’s storage room. John was rather taken aback at how much that girl - Valerie - had divulged. Phantom must be a pretty big deal if he had fans like her. He set about bringing up newspaper articles about Phantom and the Huntress from the past year on his phone. Most of them were isolated to the Amity Park Herald, which had produced almost daily articles on the ghost kid and his antics. A pair of ghost hunters stood out amongst the rest in every article he read. They were quoted often and were present at the scenes of Phantom’s fights. Dr. Madeline and Dr. Jack Fenton. Fenton... as in Fenton Portal ? John quickly pulled up a search on the portal and discovered that it had been activated in February 2015, six years ago. A lightbulb burst in his head. He pulled up another search on Phantom’s first appearance. February 2015, only a week after the portal was activated. He switched back to the article on the portal. 

“After a major complication which threatened the entire project, the Fenton Ghost Portal miraculously turned on a day after attempts failed to activate it. The Fenton Doctors still remain unsure how the portal turned on, having found no accidental conduit between the Ghost Zone and Earth.”

The detective took a large swig of his beer before chomping down on his sandwich. 

He found himself being far more intrigued by this Danny Phantom than he was of the legendary Infinite Realm, which apparently exists. The Ghost Zone wasn’t welcoming at the moment anyway. There was something entirely unghostly yet inhuman about the kid which entranced John. He knew ghosts had obsessions, the very sentiment which connected them to their enduring existences. But those usually arose only when the ghost’s death was violent or sudden, making them stay connected to this realm until their business was completed, justice done, or goodbyes made. Whatever Phantom’s obsession was, it certainly didn’t include any of that. No, he acted like a superhero, and a superhero’s work was never done. Phantom also acted like any other teenager he’d met, and had the ability to hold a coherent conversation, something most ghosts lack unless they’re talking about their obsession. This ghost kid was something entirely new, and his detective instincts compelled him to investigate. Huh, maybe that will be my obsession if I become a ghost. 

John filtered through several of the Fenton’s papers in various science journals and learnt that the green substance in the crystal was called ectoenergy, ghosts were made of ectoplasm, and that some powerful ghosts had cores. The Fenton’s claimed Phantom had an ice core, which explained his Elsa magic. The next paper piqued his interest even more. The Fentons weren’t joking when they called themselves ghost hunters. For three years since Phantom’s arrival they’ve been hunting him and other ghosts, intending to experiment on and research them. Something about that twisted Constantine’s gut. He usually didn’t feel sorry for any manner of creature, but the idea that these people harmed Phantom left a sour taste in his mouth. However old the Phantom actually was, he still acted like a kid, and no kid should be treated like an animal. Red Huntress apparently was also a serious ghost hunter, having fought Phantom on many occasions. She was a Class A vigilante alright. No one knew who she was or where she got her gear from, but up until two years ago, she and Phantom were mortal enemies, if John believed the tabloids. 

Another article grabbed his full attention.

  “WE WERE WRONG”.

  Dramatic and clickbaity, but intriguing. 

“Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton condemn their past actions and sentiments towards Danny Phantom and ghosts.”

“‘We were wrong,’ Dr. Jack Fenton admitted. ‘Phantom does help the city. He saved the world. He is a hero.’

“These comments come after Danny Phantom, the Fentons and Huntress teamed up to save the world yesterday from the so-called spectral meteor, which threatened to separate the Ghost Zone and Earth, potentially resulting in a catastrophic tear in the fabric of reality. After billionaire Vlad Masters revealed himself as the villain Plasmius and failed to stop the meteor (in return for a ransom), Phantom commanded all the ghosts to come forth and shield the Earth from the reality ripping properties of the meteor. Vlad Plasmius is now nowhere to be seen.”

“‘The ghosts showed that day that they are beings worthy of our respect and gratitude,’ Dr. Madeline continued. ‘We have known for some time that we misunderstood ghosts, and have tried to change our ways. But after the meteor incident, we know for sure that Phantom is a superhero, worthy of the Hall of Justice.”’

That was some mighty high praise. How on Hell’s Earth did he not know about Phantom? Or the meteor? Did the Justice League know about him? John grunted. Very likely. They liked to keep their cards close to their chest, and usually didn’t bother intruding upon another hero’s space unless they caused problems. But John was nosey, and Phantom’s problems were causing him problems. Not that he needed a reason to do anything. But if Batman gave him any grief he had his excuse. 

He was now mindlessly scrolling through images of Phantom. The earliest pictures were shadowy, blurred and taken from a distance, but eventually Phantom made official appearances and allowed photographers to capture him. Some photos even showed Phantom giving kids fist bumps. These photos were from 2015, but Phantom certainly didn’t look the same today. For once, he had matured, like you would expect any teenager to do in that span of time. Where he looked around nineteen now, the photos from 2015 showed him looking like he was fourteen. And that wasn’t the only change John noticed. Young Phantom lacked the pointed ears, fangs and blue skin which the current Phantom exhibited. Phantom developed these features over time, each year growing a little more ghostly. So, the ghost kid matured like a human and a ghost over these past six years? This kid just keeps getting more weird. 

With a final swig of his beer, Constantine left the café, leaving a respectable tip for Valerie. He’d completed all the academic research he could. Now it was time for a hands on education. 

Chapter Text

Danny hovered above The Rocks, soaking in the cool, evening sea breeze. Ferries filtered in and out of the Quay below, their lights twinkling off the deep midnight blue of the Harbour. When he wasn’t being chased by G.I.W. agents or other ghosts, Danny loved floating high above the city and indulging in its night-time beauty. The salty air tickled his tongue and the soft zephyrs flying past the buildings whispered to him… He knew those were actually ghosts, but he liked to imagine it was the spirit of the city. Danny sunk a little further down until he was directly above the front doors to The Fortune of War. He didn’t have to wait long until he spied his favourite occult detective striding down the pathway, making a bee-line for the old pub. Danny followed Constantine inside, making sure to keep his distance despite being invisible. Predictably, John ordered a lager and brought it to a booth in the shadowed corner of the musty pub. He looked around curiously, nodding to himself as he assessed the area. Danny assumed he could sense strange forces, too, as his ghost sense had been sending him constant shivers since he arrived at The Rocks. Then a strange golden glow grew from his fists. He murmured something in a foreign language under his breath and a blast of energy pulsated across the entire building. Several ghosts appeared into Danny’s view, seemingly unaware of their newfound transparency. Most of them were sitting in empty booths, enjoying a couple of brews, keeping to themselves. Others floated mindlessly around, phasing through people and objects as they did. The humans didn’t seem to notice, though. Danny was utterly mesmerised. His parents had attempted to make devices which could reduce ghosts’ opacity, as had the G.I.W., but apparently this was an instance where magic won over science. 

“You following me, kid?”

Danny jumped. He turned to meet the dark eyes of the detective, examining himself as he did. Wait. of course his spell would work on me, too.

Danny composed himself and cleared his throat. “I said you could stay. That didn’t mean I’d give you free reign.” The halfa floated over to John’s booth and sat across from him. “And I know you, John Constantine. Demon's follow you. I'd rather not have a demon-ghost spat in the middle of my political spat.” 

John grunted. “I s’pose that’s fair. How’ya find me?” 

Danny could barely contain his cheeky grin. He placed his hand to his chin and dramatically gesticulated as he explained. “"If I were an British occult detective and had no knowledge of ghosts even though I should and suddenly found myself in Sydney, the epicentre of global ghostly activity, and had a fondness of alcohol, where would I go to start investigating? The oldest pub in the city!"

John’s grim expression didn’t change. “And how long did you rehearse that line before you found me?”

Danny gulped and averted his gaze. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” 

“Y’know, you're awfully human for someone who's supposed to be dead.” 

Danny felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. That would be Tucker. Saved by the silent notification! “I’ve got some business to attend to,” he said, floating up through the table. John grumbled from his lack of reply. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” John replied with a mocking two-fingered salute. 

And with that, Danny flew out of the building and into an empty side street. He transformed back to his human form and walked out of the shadows to meet Tucker standing right outside the pub. 

The pair greeted each other with a fistbump and secret handshake. “Dude. Alcohol and superheroing? I love being an adult!”

Danny laughed. “We have to be extra inconspicuous now, though. I followed him inside invisibly but he cast a spell that revealed all the ghosts to him.”

“He saw you?”

Danny nodded. “He knows Phantom’s around.”

“So we can’t let him recognise Fenton. Got it.” 

Danny clasped Tucker around the shoulders and together they walked into The Fortune of War. They each grabbed a brew and found a booth on the opposite side of the bar to where Constantine was. Danny couldn’t see any ghosts anymore, but he could still feel them. I guess the spell dissipated. The pair situated themself so Tucker was facing Constantine, and Danny’s face was shielded from the detective’s view. Tucker pursed his lips together and struggled to keep his eyes off Constantine. He was beaming like a small child who saw Mickey Mouse at Disneyland. 

“Keep your cool, dude.”

“Dude! It’s John Constantine. He’s a superhero.”

Danny paused halfway through his sip. He pouted. “I’m a superhero.”

Tucker dismissed that with a dramatic eye roll. “Yeah, but Constantine is, like, Justice League level superhero. Besides, you said he didn’t even know who you were.”

“Rude,” Danny mumbled, returning his attention to his beer. “What’s he doing?”

Tucker stretched his neck to look past the other patrons. “He’s looking at his phone. Drinking his beer. Looking at us.” Tucker ducked away quickly with an audible gasp. Danny stole a quick look behind him. John’s eyes met his. Recognition flashed across the Brit’s face. He flicked between Danny and his phone and got up. Danny ducked away and drank some more. “Oh fuck, he’s coming over,” Tucker whispred, looking down at the wooden table. “We’re just big fans. Big, nosey fans who did not mean to pry. Yeah That works.”

“You’re a Fenton, right?” came John’s gravelly voice right next to Danny. 

The teenage superhero gulped. Not what he expected, but he’ll roll with it. He looked up and blinked several times. He forced his eyes to widen. “Oh my god, you’re John Constantine.” His voice was more monotone than he wanted it to be.

“John Constantine’s at our table,” Tucker gasped. At least his awe was real.

Danny coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, I’m a Fenton. Da- Danny Fenton,” he reached out his hand to accept John’s offer of a shake. The man made a sharp inhale as their palms touched. He shot a questioning look at Danny before releasing his hand. 

“John Constantine knows who you are,” Tucker murmured again, now staring into the light brown brew before him.

“Danny, hey?” John raised an eyebrow. 

“This is my friend, uh - Tucker.” John extended his hand to Tucker as well, who took it and gave him two, firm shakes. John looked back at Danny’s hand once again and shrugged to himself. “Uh, what brings you to Sydney?”

“A ghost. I’m doing a little bit of research on them, and your parents’s publishings have been extremely helpful.”

“Well, they are the original ghost hunters,” Tucker chimed in. “They’ve been in the business of ectology since their college days.”

“So I read. One of their failed experiments back then is how Vlad Masters got his powers, isn’t it?” He was looking at Danny now. “Must be weird having your dad’s old best friend turn out to be a supervillain.”

Danny scoffed. “You have no idea.”

Constantine looked away into some shadowy corner and scoffed. Richie and him weren’t exactly on the best terms before he made a deal with Destiny, but he liked to think they were pragmatic allies. When John learned Richie had betrayed him, Z and Blood, and sided with Destiny, he was beyond pissed off, especially because he had started feeling sorry for the old bugger, even if he didn't show it. Seeing his soul get dragged to Hell was rather cathartic. “I might ‘ave an idea.” He turned back to Danny and Tucker. “Stay out of trouble,” he finished with a slight glint in his eye before dropping some coins into the bar tip jar and leaving the building. 

“That was fine-” 

“He’s onto you, man.”

“He’s onto me.” Danny finished his beer in one giant gulp and slammed it on the table. Tucker mirrored the gesture. 

“Well, that was exciting. Meeting a real-life superhero-”

“Excuse m-”

“But it’s time for me to head home.” He grinned at Danny as he stood up. His ghostly friend scrunched up his nose at him. “You gonna stay out on patrol?”

“With him here, yes. Catch ya later, man.” Tucker grabbed Danny’s shoulder affectionately then left. 

Chapter Text

That was quite the coincidental encounter, John thought. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Taking a puff of his cigarette, he made his way to the train station, intending to head north to one Amity Park. As he descended into the station, he noticed something strange about some of the other commuters. Their eyes had a faint, red glow to them, and they were infinitely more expressive than anyone should be, generally, let alone after a working day. A middle-aged man in a suit holding a briefcase was jumping around like a kid on a sugar high. An old woman was running up the escalators as if she had the body of a young athlete. John felt the station was rather cool, too. As John rounded a corner, he caught the gaze of a young lady, whose menacing red eyes flickered with a distant intelligence as she tilted her head at an unnatural angle. Suddenly she hissed at John and sprinted in the opposite direction. The detective took a deep breath in and took off after her. The woman led him out of the station and through alleyways, knocking people out of her way, sometimes flinging them with inhuman strength. She was wearing a bright, red coat which acted like a beacon in the dark city, allowing John to spot her even through the crowds. She ran down a long, shadow-filled lane, which stunk of old garbage, and John followed suit, hot on her heels. 

“Aha! Got you cornered, love,” John boasted, his breath heaving. He had chased her into a dead-end ally, surrounding the woman on all three sides with tall buildings. “Now, why don’t ya come on back here and we can talk, eh?”

The woman slowly turned, her dark hair covering her face as she hunched over. A single, red eye broke through the gloom of the lane and looked straight at Constantine. Whatever this creature was, this skin was not its own. It struggled to control the woman’s body in any respectable way and was fighting against the force of gravity, as if it was not used to being at its mercy. Then, from the woman’s lips, a voice rose in horrible, raspy tones, the likes of which even the master of the dark arts had not heard before. This was no ordinary possession. “This is no business of yours, human.”

“Yeah? Then whose business is it? Phantom’s?”

The woman threw back her head and produced an ear-shattering cackle. Her back arched sharply and her fingers contorted. “That heretic is no concern of mine. I serve only the one true King heir. The one who is responsible for Pariah Dark’s demise. The one who will make humanity bow before the undead!”

Constantine made a mental note to remember the name Pariah Dark. Sounds like Phantom and this creature’s master had a hand in defeating them.“Are all those red-eyed puppets out there servants of your master, too?”

The creature swayed and cleared the hair from its eyes, revealing a dark, paled, hallowed face. Its voice developed a lilt as it fell from side to side idly. “We will take the town. We will take the city. Then we will take the world, aha!” The woman launched herself into the air, clearing John and flying up, and up. Constantine muttered a spell under his breath and launched golden ribbons of magic towards the woman, binding her in his spell and forcing her back to the ground with a bone-crunching thud . Her eyes grew wild as she kicked and squirmed against the spell, the whites of her eyes visible as John came to stand over her. With one, final push, she broke free and forced John back into a wall. He fell to his knees and wheezed, feeling a the new fracture in his rib with each, dire inhale. Desperately, he launched another magical attack upon the woman, but it dissipated with a simple flick of her wrist.

“Your magic will be no use in the war, demon hunter,” she said, crouching over Constantine and pulling him up by his shirt collar. She looked into his soul with those piercing, ruby eyes. “You may pray that my master shows his mercy, but you will not be heard.”

Think, John, think! Magic was no use anymore against the creature now he lacked the element of surprise, and he hadn’t the time to formulate any clever, non-physical spell. It was clear to the detective now that the woman was possessed by a ghost, but he hadn’t any blood blossom. He quickly recalled the Fenton Doctors’ research. Human weapons don’t work against ghosts, magical attacks don’t work against ghosts… only ghosts worked against ghosts. Pushing through the pain in his left side, John pulled out Phantom’s crystal and forced it into the woman’s thigh. She shrieked and wailed as Phantom’s ecto-energy flowed into the wound. John pushed himself up against the embedded crystal and then forced the ghost against the wall. He ripped the crystal from the leg and placed it against her throat. “Who is your master? What is he planning?”

The whites of the woman’s eyes again grew and she struggled to look away. She wheezed and groaned, struggling against Consantine’s grasp. “This woman is just a vessel. You would not hurt an innocent human, would you?”

Constantine glowered and pushed the crystal further into her neck, drawing blood, eliciting a strangled gargle from the woman. “Collateral has never been a problem for me. Talk!”

The creature glared at Constantine and bared its teeth. Determination set in its eyes, but was broken by yet another forceful shove of the crystal by John. “The ghosts will turn against the young halfa. Plasmius will protect us all from your human filth . Once he ascends to the throne, nothing will stop the hoards of my kin from overshadowing the Earth! Not even your precious hero, Phantom. ” It spat out that name like poison. 

John scowled at the creature. He was done with it. Slipping his free hand into his pocket he retrieved a small flask of Holy Water. Opening it, he magically compelled the water to rise and spun it in front of him until it formed a flaming gold anti-possession pentagram. “With the power vested in me, I, John Constantine, banish you, ghost, from this body, never to return!” He sent the spell over the woman’s body. She violently convulsed and contorted as the shimmer of the spirit began to tear away from her body. After several moments, the woman was finally free. The ghost shot out into the sky and flew away in a panicked hurry. The woman went limp, but John caught her in his arms. He cleared her hair from her face and grunted approvingly when he saw the dark colour return to her features. He carried her out of the alley and into the street, where he saw a small crowd had gathered. 

Typical, John growled to himself once he saw several people had been recording the scene. One young boy looked up to him in awe. How did Bruce deal with this attention? It was obnoxious. He placed the woman gently on the pavement before gesturing to a man. “You, call an ambulance. She was possessed by a ghost and possibly has a few broken bones.” The man acted immediately. Others kept the crowd from surrounding the woman, shooing the kids with smartphones away. This city was definitely trained in superhero cleanup, alright. John broke through the crowd, trying to slip away, but kept getting people grabbing his coat and shouting his name. Some people cleared a path for him, holding the gathering crowd back so Constantine could make his escape. This was why he wasn’t a Leaguer. He liked doing his business and then leaving, no string attached, no crowds to deal with, no stupid fans who had no idea how dangerous his job was getting in his way. He finally managed to escape the crowd, making a bee-line for the station.

He had to warn Danny.

Chapter Text

On most nights, Amity Park hummed with a soft energy as the humans quietened down for the evening and the ghosts drifted aimlessly through the town, the newfound harmony of the two peoples electrifying the night. Tonight was not most nights. 

As Danny floated above the town his hair stood on end. Amity Park felt darker - heavier - as if it were covered in a weighted blanket. The sounds rising from the roads and houses was muted, too, barely reaching Danny’s ears. These days, his ghost sense was continuously triggered in Amity, like it was when he was in the Ghost Zone, as this was where he and the ghosts had begun the Zone-Earth convergence to save everyone from the meteor twelve months ago. But with every icy breath, a sour, rotten sensation stained his tongue. Danny drifted down to the roadside. Instinctively, and without conscious reason, he produced his sword and crown as he surveyed the street. There were only a few people out at this time of night, usually, but the street seemed to be filled with a dozen people in Danny’s immediate vicinity. Beyond this small crowd, Danny could make out the face of a couple of people. They were shying away and hastily making their way to their homes. One briefly looked at Phantom and a small glimmer of hope flashed across her face, before she disappeared inside. Danny turned his attention to those near him. They were silent. Not so much as a breath passed their lips. And their eyes were red. 

Phantom squared his shoulders and pointed his sword to the ground, clasping the hilt with both hands. “The people of this town are under my protection. Leave their bodies now.” There was no response. Danny clanged his sword against the ground and rose it high above his head. “I am the King heir. You will do as I command!”

Then, something slammed against Danny’s back, sending him flying down the street. With acrobatic agility, he leapt to his feet and held his sword out in front of him. The horde of overshadowed bodies launched upon him. He blocked their punches and kicks with the flat of his sword, trying his best not to harm the human vessels. A man clawed at his back, drawing blood on his exposed neck, and Danny whisked around to force him away. The impact of his sword upon the man drew blood. Phantom grimaced and flew into the air, ripping two people from his leg and arms, throwing them to the cold pavement. He morphed his sword into a fighting rod and came down upon his attackers with brute force. Whacking the assailants away with each freezing strike, Danny scrambled for ideas of how to release the humans from the ghosts’ clutches. And why the Hell were they possessing humans, in his town? They must have an end wish. Danny flung the ghosts across the street, then they flung him across the town, little by little gaining the advantage as the halfa refused to hit the humans with any mortal force. He managed to break away for a split second. Then, with one, heaving blow, Phantom pushed several people away, sending them flying into parked cars and street lamps and the gutter. He squared himself against the horde and took one mighty breath in.

His wail shattered glass and tore up the bitumen. The ghosts struggled to maintain their footing against the force of Phantom’s cry, their forms contorting and writhing in pain. Danny pressed on, forcing his energy out before him until, finally, the shimmering shadow of the ghosts began to leave the humans’ bodies. One, three, then five were ripped from their vessels and dissolved into the still, cool air. But as Danny’s wail tapered out, the other ghouls clawed their way back into their human forms and stalked toward the now panting, shaking halfa. He growled. His aura filled the street with a cold, energised glow. His eyes were blazon. 

"Neat trick." Danny spun around on his knees to view a very nonchalant John flicking his cigarette to the ground and grinding it under his boot. He was standing in the middle of the dimly lit street just a few feet away from the commotion. "Need a hand?" 

Danny panted. "Constantine. Get out of here. I can't protect you against all of them." He struggled to his feet then blasted two of the possessed people away with a powerful burst of green energy. 

"Well you're gonna have to, kid, for a short while at least." He drew out from his coat pocket a thick stick of white chalk. "I've got a trick of my own." 

With another punch and kick towards his attackers, Danny laughed. "What are you going to do with that? Write them a nicely worded letter?" 

John's face fell to a scowl. "Just keep 'em back, will ya?" And with that he bent down over a torn up slab of road and began drawing a large symbol. 

Danny grumbled but continued to push back the ghosts with ectoblasts, fists and ice. A finely manicured hand sliced across Danny's face, drawing green-red streaks of blood. He grabbed their wrist and headbutted them, knocking them to the ground. With his ecto-electrified ice staff he shocked the remaining attackers and slammed them against poles, cars and each other. 

"Alright. Now get them all together!" Constantine called over the sound of battle. 

Danny flew up into the air and elongated his staff until it was the width of the road. He shot back down towards the group of ghouls and swept them back in one, powerful stroke. They all fell to the road in a nice, neat pile. 

"Now com'ere and help me with this." 

Danny flew over and landed by the detective's side. The slab of bitumen was now covered in a large, white pentagram surrounded by flame. Sam would like this one, Danny thought. A twang of guilt caught in his throat, but it quickly passed. 

"Throw this above them and keep 'em rounded up. I'll do the rest." The pair nodded to each other and Danny did as he was told. The rock was only as heavy as a ball would be to a human so Phantom had no issue tossing it like a frisbee. As it flew, he blasted the ghosts to keep them back. 

John began incanting loudly, his hand directed to the pentagram. His voice rose in intensity and volume until finally the rock began to crack, light shooting out of the fissures. The rock split and exploded, leaving a glowing pentagram floating in mid air. John threw his hand down, commanding the symbol to fall over the people. They began to writhe and contort, shrieking and crying out in pain. Eventually, the ghosts began to tear from their human vessels. Once they were out and the people fell limp, Danny blasted them all with his ectoenergy again. He ripped the Thermos from his belt and sucked them all up, one by one, capping the device with a satisfied hmph. 

He floated over to the people and helped some of them to their feet. Assessing them for injuries and apologising profusely. Most of them were alright aside from developing large bruises and a few scrapes. By now, the people of Amity Park were well accustomed to ghost attacks and respected Danny Phantom enough to be grateful of his help, even though they got caught up in the mess. The emergency services had arrived by now and were tending to the people. When Danny was convinced the townsfolk were alright, he floated back over to Constantine, who had lit another cigarette. 

Danny cleared his throat. "Neat trick. What's in that chalk?" 

John held the stick out between him and Phantom. "Just chalk. With a little blessing from a priest. The real magic comes from… well, the magic." He grinned through his teeth, the cigarette stuck between his four front teeth, and pocketed the chalk. 

Danny looked to the ground and spotted the discarded cigarette butt from before. He pounced on it and tossed it in a nearby street-bin. The ghost boy glowered at Constantine, who simply shrugged and began walking away.

Danny placed his hands on his hips, but followed the detective just a few paces behind. "I thought I told you not to get involved in my business." 

"You did. And I didn't. Your business got involved with me. And regretted it," he said with a wink. He didn't elaborate. Danny went to prod his for answers when he stopped outside a house and looked up. "I'll explain once we're inside." 

Danny looked up, too, and realised with a gasp that John had led him home. The brick townhouse looked inconspicuous on the bottom half, but the third storey was a metal, reinforced control tower with a large black and green sign that read ‘Fenton Works’.

"My - uh, Fenton Works?" 

John didn't respond and instead climbed up the small stairs and knocked at the door. Doctor Maddy opened, her turquoise jumpsuit glowing from the bright light inside. She stared at Danny quizzically before turning her attention to John. She looked him up and down quickly with wide, bewildered eyes. 

"Doctor Fenton, I presume," John said, extending his hand out. 

She shook it firmly. "Yes. And you're John Constantine, if I'm not mistaken." John nodded and Maddy let him inside. She looked to Danny again who shrugged helplessly, before following the detective inside. Danny closed the door behind him and floated above the coffee table in the living room, where his dad had now joined his mum and John. When all introductions were made John pushed his cigarette into the ashtray, raising his eyebrows at Danny as he did so. 

"Good to see you, Phantom," Jack said with a stiff, unsure nod. 

Danny straightened his back and made a mock salute. "And you, Doctors Fenton." 

John looked between the three of them, who all looked between each other, and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Christ! Danny, we don't have time for this. I know who you are." 

Maddy and Jack gasped together, Maddy hovering her hand over her utility belt. 

"How-" Danny began. 

"First off, you're a shit liar. Secondly, you all just confirmed it." 

Danny held the tension in his shoulders for a few more moments before relaxing. He shrugged at his parents with a harmless smile before landing on the ground. This guy probably knew the identities of Superman and Batman, and just about everyone in the League and Titans with a secret identity. Considering John appeared to be helping him, Danny figured his identity was safe with the occult detective, too. He sealed his core and let the rings of blue light engulf him, morphing back into his human form. John grunted approvingly, then took a seat in the armchair, promoting the Fenton's to do the same on the couch. He wheezed quietly, clutching his side tentatively, before recomposing himself.

"Now that's out of the way, explain what you're doing here, Constantine." Danny leaned forward with his elbows in his knees. His brow was creased as he looked at John. 

Constantine sighed and pursed his lips. A moment later, he explained. "Plasmius is back. And you're not gonna like what he has planned." 

Chapter Text

“Report.”

The agent handed her a thin, white file, with nothing but a date stamp on the cover. He clicked a button and the four large monitors before them lit up, giving off an eerie glow in the otherwise dark cavernous laboratory. Each displayed different images. One showed civilians in the city, some acting as though they were drugged, others skirting away, hurtling towards their destinations. The next screen revealed shaky phone-camera footage of a fight between two people in an alleyway. On the third was a live feed outside an old, rusty warehouse by the docks, no movement to be seen. 

With a white, gloved hand, Deputy Director Samantha Manson slid out the single sheet from the file. She glanced at the title, “Constantine”, then towards the final screen. In the basement laboratory of Fenton Works stood three of the Fentons in front of that fateful Ghost Portal, the Occult Detective inspecting the green swirl. 

Constantine

First spotted in the Sydney area, Hunters Hill, mid-afternoon today. 

Later seen in the city centre. Confrontation with a woman, possibly possessed.

Appearance in Amity Park. Assisted Phantom with a hoard of possessed individuals.

End.

Sam walked over to the side of the sparse desk and dropped the file into an incinerator. The quick smoulders momentarily licked her face with red and orange hues, before the only light was once again the soft blue emanating from the computers. Her boots echoed around the room as she walked back to the agent. “An unimportant development. Davis.”

Agent Davis nodded and enlarged the footage from the city to take up the four screens. “More people are falling victim to overshadowing everyday. It is my team’s estimate that at this rate, the entire Sydney area will be under shadow by the month’s end.”

The images flicked from one section of the city to another. From a cafe occupied by only a scared waitress and three eccentric individuals, to a shopping mall, all but deserted. 

“And have you any idea on the cause?”

With a simple click, Davis brought up the video of the warehouse, a riverbed, top of a skyscraper, and a section of bush. From slight shimmers and cracks in the air, shadows and green mist flowed freely. “The Phantom Planet incident left the world vulnerable, in merging the Zone and Earth to rebound the cosmic pulse. Phantom failed to remove the two worlds completely from each other’s influence. Now, formal portals are unnecessary for ghosts to traverse through the worlds. Weak points, or tears, in the fabric of reality give them free passage.”

Sam clenched her fist and inhaled sharply. Letting out her tension in a breath, she responded. “Ghosts don’t overshadow without reason. Ghosts are not evil. They are intelligent and driven beings.” She shot Davis a look, her lavender eyes boring into his. His face was stern, his chin turned slightly upward. Finally he relaxed and lowered his eyes. Nodding slowly he continued. 

“‘They’re as smart as humans’, I understand. But humans can be led astray.” He drew up the phone-camera footage finally. It was dark, and the audio crackled with interference from the energy being thrown around in the fight and the screams of onlookers.

“...ghosts will turn----- Plasmius -- protect us ------ human filth. Once he ascends to the throne, nothing will stop the hoards -------- *click*.”

Sam slammed her fist upon the table. Hadn’t that monster ruined enough lives? Had the depths of Hell not claimed Vlad Masters’ soul yet? Perhaps he had no soul. And had Danny not quelled the Zone, as was his responsibility, as was his promise? Davis pulled another file, a thin, pearled envelope with a red wax seal, from his coat and handed it to Manson. She sighed and took it. Turning it around she gasped, for the wax was pressed with the Commonwealth Coat of Arms. The kangaroo and emu looked back at her with dire eagerness. 

“Your orders, ma’am.”

She straightened her back and looked at the screen one last time, holding the unopened letter in the air before her. “We cannot wait for Phantom to save us again. The Justice League is off world, addressing inter-galactic matters, and we have permission,” she waved the letter vaguely. “It’s time for the new Ghost Investigative Watch to act.”

Manson switched off the monitors, plunging the room into darkness, leaving only the faint hologram of the letters “G.I.W.” hovering on the desk.

Chapter Text

Danny stood in the middle of the Chambers of the Council Of Observants looking upward to the dozens of one-eyed bureaucrats surrounding him in the raised amphitheatre. Ghosts sat in a separate section of the audience, too, all awaiting this meeting. Danny’s long cape was draped behind him, his sword was in its icy sheath on his belt and the crown glinted in spectacular fashion against the blinding lights which shone upon the chamber. With his shoulders squared, even the most sceptical Observant couldn’t help but keep its eye on him. 

Constantine sat on a bench against the wall of the ampitheatre, crossing his arms. Maddy had insisted on him wearing a warm parka while in the Zone, and it looked quite ridiculous under his coat. Still, Constantine couldn’t help but shiver in the presence of all these ghosts. Danny didn’t blame him. He was dragging a human into ghost affairs, but his hope was that the Detective’s renown would offer his address some legitimacy. Constantine, surprisingly, hadn’t objected.

That was his human side accounted for. 

Danny looked up to where Queen Dorathea sat on a throne-like chair beside the four Speakers of the Council, a knight on either side holding the flag of her Kingdom. Her face was stern as she caressed the emerald and gold pendant hanging around her neck. She would not hesitate to use her power should this meeting turn ugly. Dora was steadfast in her loyalty to Danny and commitment to finding a peaceful solution. He regretted asking for her involvement in this mess, but she had offered all her power to his side of the battle. Should Plasmius rise to the Throne, so too shall my brother return, she had said, If they were to form an alliance, as they surely would to eliminate us both, it would mean the end of ghost and humankind alike... The Queen would not see her Kingdom fall to Aragon’s evil again, and she owed Danny for his help in defeating him. He was grateful to have her on his side. After eyeing off the Speakers, Dora turned to Danny and gave him a quick nod. He returned the gesture with solemn eyes and then turned to address the Speakers.

“It is my belief that the terms of the Phantom Clause have been broken!” His voice bellowed around the room, commanding quiet from all attendees. The Speakers finally turned their apathetic attention towards the young halfa. The one in the center gestured with his hand, allowing Danny to continue. “Ghosts are amassing in the Human World and overshadowing people at unprecedented - unwarranted - rates. They are causing harm to humans. Ghosts are possessing individuals without reason and inciting terror on Earth. The Clause clearly states that no ghost is to interfere with humans, as no human is to interfere with ghosts, in each respective territory. How could the Council allow this to happen?”

The four Speakers murmured silently between each other for a few moments before turning back to Phantom. “ This is indeed a concerning matter. We assure you, King heir, that we will do everything we can to amend this error .” Danny grimaced internally as their four voices spoke all at once into Danny’s mind.

“Start by properly dealing with Plasmius.” Danny said through gritted teeth. “He is the cause of this.”

“ That is a mighty accusation .” One Speaker stated. “ You are aware we are tracking him, but he is yet to be charged with anything."

“ Do you mean to undermine the Council’s procedures? ”

“ Do you not trust our efforts? ”

“ Do you not trust your kin? ”

Danny sniffed and eyed the hall. The Observants and ghosts all around were murmuring and turning their gazes away in suspicion. “I believe it is you who do not trust me. I was attacked by a hoard of possessed humans. But if you will not take my word for it, I have brought along a human as an eye-witness. May I present Detective John Constantine, master of the dark arts, before the Council?” The Speakers nodded. Danny extended his hand towards John and beckoned him over. Wrapping the coat tighter around his chest, John came to Danny’s side.

"How's it going? Hi, love," he said with a wink to Dora. He looked back to Danny with a cheeky, smarmy grin. Danny shot a look at Dora, who seemed rather amused at John's antics, but as Danny scanned the audience he felt his stomach twist. 

“ State your piece, human .” Danny growled quietly. The Council didn’t care who he was, he was just another bag of meat to them. John turned back to the Council with a huff and roll of his eyes. 

“Look, everything the kid - er - King heir said is true. And on top of that a possessed woman attacked me in the middle of Sydney city. She told me her master was Plasmius and that there were plans to invade Earth. She claimed Plasmius was the one true heir to the Zone Throne and threatened war against Phantom and humankind.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Danny an apprehensive side-eye.

The tension in the chamber rose as the audience and Speakers chatted through their minds of these revelations. John grumbled and hunched over turning to Danny. The halfa gave him a small nod, but kept his hand grasped on his sword’s hilt. Finally, the Council settled and the Speakers replied.

“ A testimony from a human and a... half-human will not sway the Council. ”

“Are you joking?” John blurted out. “I’ve got a broken rib to prove it.”

Danny cringed at John’s outburst. He could already feel the ghosts’ eyes boring into him with betrayal. Of course he agreed with John, but he could not be seen taking a definite stance with a human. His jaw hurt from his constant clenching, but he knew no other way to keep himself quiet. 

John continued. “Look, if there is a ghost threat to humankind, you can bet your green arses that the League will be there to stop it. But if you have the authority to handle this, then handle it goddammit!

“ Your words will not convince the Council, human. ”

“Then what will?” Danny finally hissed. 

The Speakers fell silent. A palpable stillness fell over the chambers.

“Perhaps a ghost Queen’s testimony, hm?” Dora rose out of her chair, her hands clasped together in front of her, and strode to the balustrade. The audience gasped and stared at her, if not for her reverence, then for her beauty, for that alone was enough to hold a crowd. Her long blonde braid fell behind her and her serpentine eyes gazed out into the audience with nothing short of disappointment. “Ghosts have been seen leaving the Zone in increasing numbers over the past several cycles. These ghosts are acting erratic before their departure, seemingly radicalised by…. Evil words. My soldiers attempted to apprehend some before they escaped, and they all spoke of one name - Plasmius.” A racour of cries rang out from the crowd. Observants and ghosts alike leapt from their seats, shaking fists at Danny and John, some at the Council itself.  

One of the Speakers banged a gavel onto the desk several times. The others made placating hand gestures. Eventually, the cacophony died down and they were able to speak. “ These are indeed troubling revelations, my lady. ” Dora bowed her head slightly before raising her chin once again. “ We will have to consider them most deeply. ”

“And while you’re at it,” Danny interjected, stepping forward, “you can deal with the ghosts who attacked me in my own Haunt.” He pulled out the thermos from his utility belt and uncapped it. A roar of wails and cries erupted from the thermos as the rogues flew out into the chamber. They swirled around and around finding ways to escape. The Observants flew up and apprehended them, forcing them into cages made of blue energy. One of the Speakers flew down to the floor to examine the ghouls. One jumped to the electric bars, startling the bureaucrat. 

“Where is Plasmius!”

The Speaker whacked the cage with a mighty blow, sending the ghoul to the other side. It shrunk and cowered in the corner and spoke no more. 

“There you have it,” Danny declared, approaching the Speaker. “You cannot deny our claims now-” The ghost held up a hand to silence him. His singular, beady eye seemed to glare at Phantom, and Danny could feel a strain on their telepathic connection. Danny felt as though he’d break his own jaw with the amount of tension he was holding there. These ghosts invaded his territory and the Speakers didn’t care. He glowered at the Speaker, his eyes shining even brighter. Eventually, the Speaker broke away and flew back to its position. After a few moments of silent deliberation between the four bureaucrats, they spoke.

“ We will take these matters on. The Council is adjourned. ” Suddenly, dozens of ghosts flew away and up into the Zone. The hall emptied so quickly Danny barely had time to comprehend what was happening. 

“What? That’s it? Will you not bring Plasmius before the Council?”

“Enough from you! If you truly trust your kin, you will trust the process. ”

“ The procedure .”

“ The Council. ”

Danny gulped down his retort. He couldn't contest that ultimatum, so he simply nodded and turned away, walking out of the Chambers and into one of the anterooms. John, just as confused at the abrupt ending, raced to follow him out.

Chapter Text

“Oi! Kid,” John shouted after him. He finally caught up with him and closed the door behind them. “You can't just leave it at that!” He went to grab Danny’s shoulder. Phantom unsheathed his sword and brought it between himself and Constantine. His eyes were blazon. John gasped and stepped back, before frowning and standing strong. “Careful, kid.”

Phantom held his gaze for a moment, then finally lowered the sword. He sheathed it then placed his hands behind his head, leaning into them and staring at the ceiling. Shaking his head clear he replied. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Aren’t you the King heir? Don’t you have power?”

Danny let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Well, now I’ve pathetically brought a human along to help defend my position, whatever trust the ghosts had for me is probably gone now!”

“Pathetic, huh? Typical.” John ran his hand through his hair, roughing it up, letting a growl rise in his throat. “You ghosts are no better than the demons I fight. You claim to be powerful and free but you’re all strung up in your own stupid rules. And when you can’t handle your own messes, you drag the human world into them and screw them over in the process. Now I’m no superhero, but I quite like being alive and having somewhere to live. There is an imminent threat to the Earth, and you’re leaving its fate up to those… bureaucrats!” He stared down into Danny’s eyes, his teeth clenched. He shoved a finger into his chest. “I won’t.”

Danny growled, whacked his finger away and clenched his fists. What would John know? What would anyone know? The ghosts didn’t trust him, and neither did the G.I.W. If he defied the Council, he’d lose his position in the Zone forever, and Plasmius would take up the title of King heir. Thinking of the chaos that would ensue made his chest tighten. He shook his head and coughed a dry laugh. “You’re right. You’re not a superhero. If you were, you’d understand the position I’m in. You don’t have any more obligations here. You’re not a hero, so go home.”

The detective’s eyes lost focus for a moment. He sighed and came back to himself. “But you are!” John glared at him, eyes scanning over the young halfa. He seemed to be looking at him anew, and the distance in his eyes made Danny lower his head. But when Danny raised his eyes, all he could see was Sam. The same disappointment in her lavender eyes was reflected in John’s now. He was at the ghosts’ mercy again, and again he could see an ally slipping away. “Or are you just another useless ghost?”

You chose your side, she had written.

“I-,” the words were stuck in his throat.

He hadn’t made any decision. Previously, the pathway had forked before him, and before he’d made up his mind the winds of fate had blown him down one road.

Those winds blew ferociously behind him once more.

“I can’t go against the Council. I’m sorry.” He turned away and held his other arm as the royal ice attire melted away.

He didn’t have a choice.

“Then what good are you, your majesty?” He got no response. John coughed. “Well, fuck you, and fuck this. I’m taking the speeder.”

John stormed towards the exit, a cigarette already lit between his teeth.

Danny spun on his heels. “I’m on your side.”

Without turning back, John replied. “Then prove it.” And then he was gone, leaving Danny’s head spinning. Danny paced back and forth for a few moments trying to gather his thoughts. But he could feel himself spiralling.

“I understand why your human friend is upset.”

Danny spun around to see Dora in an open doorway. He nodded respectfully, and she returned the gesture as she entered the room proper, closing the door behind her.

“I do, too. But I don’t know what to do, Dorathea. I don’t know how to beat him this time.” He slumped down onto a couch. Dora followed by gracefully seating herself, placing a hand on Danny’s back.

“It’s not about beating him, Danny. It’s about being stronger. And we are strongest with our friends by our side.”

Danny huffed. “I don’t have many of those these days.”

Dora nodded solemnly. “Sam…”

The halfa jumped up and began pacing again. “If she was here she’d know what to say. She’d know what to do. She would slap sense into my empty, stupid brain. And she’d make me not feel so… powerless.” He shook his head and sighed. “We always found a way with her.”

The queen sat back into the couch cushions and smiled up at Danny. He turned around and frowned at this gesture.

“What?”

“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” Danny repeated, with indignation.

“Trying to convince the ghosts they need a king?” Danny blinked and scoffed, but couldn’t find a response. Dora floated out of the seat and towards the door, beckoning the young halfa. “Follow me.”

^^^^^^

She led him through the vast expanse of the Zone in silence. All the while Danny couldn’t even form a question. What did she mean? She knew that if Danny did not take up this mantle then Plasmius would. Finally, they landed outside the enormous, red bricked castle of Pariah Dark. Only once they were inside the tomb chambers did Dora speak.

“For millennia, the Ghost Zone survived without a King. Those years were unpredictable, but there was peace.” They stood before the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, where Pariah was imprisoned. The Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage were held in separate enchanted chambers on either side of the sarcophagus. Dora hovered her hand over the Crown chamber. “Pariah forced sectors together, and oppressed those who dissented. These artifacts are how he held such dominion. And even with all that power, the Zone was unbalanced. It was unstable. Ghosts are meant to be free, Danny. Free to live out the rest of eternity in whatever form of peace they can. When they are controlled, they grow restless. When they are free, there is balance.”

Danny shook his head, and kept shaking it as he gazed around the entire tomb. “So, the ghosts don’t want a king?” He huffed and coughed as he held the back of his head. “Ever since we defeated Pariah Dark the Observants have insisted…”

“The Observants think they are King,” Dora hissed through dragon teeth. “This trouble only started once they started meddling.”

Danny finally stopped shaking his head and turned back to Dora. “Plasmius is just a pawn to them. They’re using him to gain power.”

The queen nodded. “And the only thing between them and ultimate chaos is you.”

“What am I meant to do?”

Dora placed her hands on his shoulders and stared earnestly into his eyes. “The only antidote to chaos is balance. Be stronger than Plasmius. Trust in your friends. After Dark, after the meteor, your role was never to rule, but to bring balance and stability, and you can only do that when your heart,” she placed a hand over his chest, “is balanced.” Dora released him and smiled. Danny gave her a knowing look, but hesitated.

“I don’t know if I can trust her.”

Dora’s grin widened. She winked and lifted herself off the ground. “Yes you do.” And with that she took off into the lime depths of the Zone.

Chapter Text

Hello my dear readers,

I apologise for the large hiatus in this work. I have been busy with work and other projects, but I promise you that I am thinking about this story and my other constantly! Updates will come, but I cannot give you a timeline for when. Hope you are all well and staying safe <3<3

Chapter Text

As soon as John had parked the Speeder in the Fenton’s basement, he nicked an ecto-scanner, threw off Maddie’s parka onto the kitchen floor and stormed out the front door. The doctors called out after him in a flurry of questions and gasps, but he ignored them and slammed the door behind him.

While Danny was having a crisis of identity, Plasmius was still out there conjuring God knows what kind of plan. And if he was in league with the Council, well, let’s just say John would gladly accept his guaranteed ticket to Hell now. How could he have been so stupid? To trust a ghost - to trust a kid! - and expect it all to work out just grand. No. Like everything else that goes awry, it was up to him to solve it. Everyone else would just get in the way. He whipped out the ecto-scanner and as soon as he turned it on it started beeping, and beeping, and it was so fast it was almost one consistent sound. John immediately shut it off and waved away the strange looks he got from others around him. Sheepishly, he turned it back on again and set the volume to silent. The screen blipped like a sonar machine and he could see a dozen or so spirits in his immediate environment. Their energy levels were weak and showed only a faded dot on screen, but it gave John some surety that the machine was effective. Now, all he had to do was find the largest, most powerful congregation of ghouls and there he would find Plasmius. What he planned to do once he found him, he was still working on, but he knew it would be fun.

 He caught the train south, having found a pattern in the concentration of ecto-energy. Over the next few hours he wandered through the city, the alleys, and the beaches trying to attract any malicious spirits towards him through magic. His frustration grew as the only ghosts to approach him were curious energy swirls and blobs, but they all flew away as soon as he looked at them. Where had all the evil ghosts gone? Yesterday he couldn’t get through the city without seeing a possessed person. What had Plasmius ordered of all his minions? Or was this because of the Council proceedings after Danny showed that ghosts had been possessing humans unlawfully? It gave him little comfort either way. 

Finally, he emerged from an old, unused train tunnel onto a large and all but abandoned shipping yard. Rusted shipping containers, and half constructed machinery lay rotting on the cold ground. The ocean was right next to him, he could feel the salt spray, and yet he could not hear the waves lapping against the concrete platforms. The air grew thick and his hairs stood on end. He took one more step out into the open and looked down to the ecto-scanner. A large mass of dots were swarming two dozen metres ahead of him. Their readings were high. Raising his eyebrows he gingerly turned the volume knob to full. 

BEEEEEEEEEEP

He winced, not really knowing why he expected anything else, and before he recovered his senses something from above slammed him into the ground. The scanner fell from his hands and broke. He rolled to his back and threw his hands up as another ghost, all now visible, came upon him. A golden circle emerged from his hand and the ghost bounced off of it. John scrambled to his feet, keeping his protection spell above him. The sky became dark as a cloud of ghosts swarmed around the yard, blocking out the sun. John gritted his teeth and summoned another spell and held both of his hands out.

“Come on, you bastards!” And come they did, one after another, and then two and three pounded down upon him. He threw some magical attacks towards his assailants. They held up for a few moments, but then he felt a strange tug in his magic, and saw a vibration ripple through the hoard of ghouls. Suddenly, his magic failed him once again and the ghosts streamed down upon him. John launched himself over a large, rusting pipe and kept running, using the obstacles in his way to bring distance between him and the ghosts. He could feel their physical power growing as a bitter, metallic taste polluted his tongue. As John ran, he also noticed that the ghosts were slamming into the solid objects, seemingly unable to get through. Finally rounding under a tower of stacked containers, John pulled out the crystal Danny had given him. The ghosts pounded around on the iron, the hollow, rotting metal echoing like thunder.

 Catching his breath, he threaded a line of golden, magical string through the top point of the crystal and placed it around his neck. He placed his hand in prayer over his chest, muttered under his breath and then shot his hands out in front of him. The gold of his magic intertwined with the green energy of the crystal. His shields were a shining mixture of emerald and gold symbols, and as one of the ghosts finally broke through, John yelled and threw two balls of magical, ecto energy up above him. The containers exploded into the air and crushed the ghouls surrounding them. John formed a spear and shot it through the ghost coming towards him. The ghoul stopped in mid air and seemed to gasp as the spear made it bleed, the rest of its form melting from the wound. 

“Get in!” John cheered as he clambered over a container and looked out over the shipping yard. The ghouls were regrouping in pockets around him. John sneered and ignited his fists in green-yellow flame. “You want some of this, you cocksuckers?” The ghosts hissed and gnashed their fangs, reverberating the air around him with freezing energy. “Where’s your master? Where’s Vlad Masters? I’d like a word with him.” More and more ghosts filled the sky, and soon all Constantine could see was a void of darkly glowing bodies. A ball of lead seemed to have dropped in his stomach. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew his limits. As the ghosts floated to and fro, he made out a warehouse on the far side of the shipping yard. He gritted his teeth and made his plan. A stupid one, but one that would surely keep him alive. He licked his lips and said, “Not much for talking, ey? Well, then, let’s dance.” 

And with that Constantine, his eyes now blazon, exploded with magical energy and leaped down to the ground. John shot fireballs, and curses, and shields at his assailants, making just enough of a pocket around him to clear a path towards the warehouse. The ghosts pounded upon his shields, but his magic held fast and caused some ghouls to shriek in agony when they made contact. Blast after blast, panting, and sneering, John raced towards a broken window on the floor of the warehouse. Ghosts chased after him, but he focused his attention solely on his destination. He imbued his limbs with energy to accelerate him and dropped his shields. The ghosts came three-fold upon him, but as John slipped through the window, one ghoul caught his arm with a clawed finger. As John flung himself to the ground of the warehouse, he shot his hands up again and muttered a protection spell around the immediate structure.

The ghosts thumped fruitlessly against the corrugated iron and glass, making the protection spell shimmer emerald and gold with each impact. John panted and gulped for air, letting his head rest upon the ground. As he got up to a seating position he winced and grasped his left shoulder. Hot blood was oozing out, soaking his coat. He cursed under his breath, but undid his red tie and began wrapping around the wound. He observed the ghosts stupidly banging themselves against the shield. Some made their way higher, beyond the spell, but John simply rolled his eyes. He held his hands in front of him and expanded the protection spell around the entire structure. He made sure not to expire all of the energy in the crystal, however, and left a small amount just in case he needed a grand escape. Eventually the pounding dissipated. Perhaps the ghosts had some sense after all? “That’s right, chumps,” he sneered, “No being born in the Ghost Zone can get through this charm.” The final thump was heard overhead as the sea of ghosts stilled. John lit a cigarette, shoved his hands nonchalantly in his pockets and leant back against a pole. The silence was heavy, but the cold of the ghosts did not reach him through his enchantment. 

A few minutes passed, and John was beginning to doubt. Then, a tremor resonated through the hoard. They heaved like a great sigh and parted, revealing a shadow of swirling red mist coming towards the warehouse. John plucked his cigarette from his mouth and crushed it under his boot. Walking up to the broken glass he tuttered and snickered. “My my, is Prince Charming really gracing me with ‘is presence?” 

The mist was swept away in an unnatural wind to reveal the sleek, horned, and smarmy figure of Vlad Plasmius. His red irises broke through the fogged and cracked window pane. They were narrow, but his lips were curved into a sneer as the wind dissipated and his heavy white cape fell on the floor behind him. His thick, black gloves creaked as he clenched his fingers, but as he released them he spoke.

“You should know better than to taunt the undead, demon hunter. ” 

John and Plasmius were separated now only by the dirty glass, and John’s shield. The detective’s will steeled as he remembered this fact. He was sure not even Plasmius would be able to get through because the shield was built with Phantom’s energy, and he only knew how many times the kid had bested his nemesis. 

“You know, I really should know better! And yet here I stand, taunting, yapping, being a right git - and guess what? You people always end up back in the filthy, maggot holes you were born in.”

Plasmius relaxed and smiled some more. “I can see why Daniel likes you. But do not think for a moment that he can win this. As you can see,” he gestured to the ghouls around him, “I have the support. If you wish to stay alive I suggest you get out of our business.”

John sighed dramatically and looked around, disinterested. “Unfortunately, I’m just too damn annoying. So, it’ll save us both a whole lot o’ trouble if you just go on n’ tell me what the big plan is.”

Vlad chuckled and shook his head. “It’s quite simple, really. Daniel and I both hold claim for the throne, as we played equal roles in taking down Pariah Dark. The only thing that would distinguish us, then, is support. My influence has spread; it is only a matter of time before the Zone falls under my rule.”

John paced away, continuing his disinterested glances around the empty building. He fiddled with his fingers, kicked a metal pipe, and spoke with a musing lilt. “I suppose that’s true. But tell me, O King, will you being on the throne bring stability? And ah-” he cut off Plasmius with a single finger, “I don’t mean metaphorical stability. None of that sappy shit. I mean literal stability. Because, in case it has escaped your notice, there is something seriously wrong with the Ghost Zone. Your ghost minions feel it. I feel it. And if you’re in want of a place to rule, you’re going to have to fix it. Tell me how, and I’ll leave you to play King in the Zone. As long as the Earth is protected.” Vlad Plasmius held the detective’s eye for a moment, then broke contact and began stalking around the building. Constantine followed, fire magic sparking on his hidden hand. 

“If you’re referring to the sporadic portals, you can thank dear Daniel for that. He’s the one who merged the two worlds.”

“Yes he did. But don’t you find it funny that the only place where my magic works and ghosts don’t warp between dimensions is in Amity Park? His haunt?” 

Plasmius stopped sharp causing his cape to blow in front of his feet. He gave Constantine a deep glare, but as a smile curled onto his pointed lips he let out a rough laugh. “His haunt ? He’s a halfa, Constantine, the only ghosty quality he possesses is a dead sense of humour.”

“You don’t have a haunt?” John blurted out, ignoring the joke. Vlad growled but turned to face the detective in silence, holding his chin up. John squinted, trying to examine his acquaintance like he would examine a crime scene. Finally, he huffed and nodded slowly, walking up to the glass, so close his nose was almost touching it. “Phantom may not have support, but the Observants and others sure seem to think he does have a haunt, among other ‘ghostly qualities’. Even your minions were put on trial for invading his territory. I also know that the ghosts detest humans. They’d rather have no King, than let a mutt rule them.” The pair stared into each other's eyes again; Vlad, with his crimson irises pulsating with unnatural light, and John, squinting hard to contain the sparks of magic which so desired to surface. “Tell me, Plasmius, what did the Observants promise you? A title? An army?” John shook his head, never breaking eye contact. “They’re using you.”

That was the trigger. Like an explosion, Vlad burst with rage, bared his teeth and roared. Crossing the threshold, he broke through the shield with ease before grabbing Constantine by the neck and raising him in the air. John felt his feet leave the ground and grasped his assilant’s arms as the air was pushed out of his throat. Then, like thunder clouds rolling in from the distance, the hoard of ghosts began to rumble. It was quiet, but steadily gained power, and soon the very air around them seemed to be vibrating with anxious energy. John looked around and saw the dark figures take shape, solidifying, baring their teeth and encroaching upon the shield. They began to press against it but remembered they could not penetrate the magic. John croaked out a laugh even as he struggled to hold his body, lessening the strain on his neck. Vlad also smiled, seemingly unaware of the sudden change. 

“Laughing in the wake of your own defeat?”

“Oh, I’m not laughing for myself, argh!” John wheezed. 

Plasmius’s grasp around John’s neck tightened and the detective feared he would collapse a windpipe. But instead, Vlad raised him higher and then screamed, “I will defeat you!” as he flung the detective across the room. “And then I will defeat Phantom!”

John hit the concrete hard and rolled to a stop. The cut on his left arm burned as fresh blood oozed from it. He coughed and spluttered as the air returned to his lungs, propping himself on one arm and pointing to the hoard above him. “Not before they defeat you.” John extended his free hand and flickered his fingers, and like water the shield melted away, the emerald and gold energy shimmering into nothing. Vlad tensed and looked up. He clenched his fists and growled, bright cerise flame erupting on his hands. Staggering, John got to his feet. The ghosts tentatively pressed against where the shield once was, then made a slow advance into the warehouse. “What a King’s gamble that was,” John hummed. “To lie to your constituents about what you really are. A meta, not a halfa!” 

The detective shouted the last words to the ghosts around him. Their growls deepened and they quickened their pace towards their new enemy. “They’ll have your head for this.” John sneered. Then, Plasmius turned his attention to Constantine, and with a great roar he thrust a ball of flaming ecto energy his way. John started and ducked out of the way. As he sprung to his feet he engulfed his own hands in yellow flame, expecting more. But as Plasmius prepared another blast the ghosts came down upon him in full force. They tore at him with grotesque claws, beat him with ghoulish tails, and all the while Vlad blasted them, grunting and shouting. Constantine caught Vlad’s eye through the foray and felt a deadly chill run through him. A half-moment later, an explosion of red-pink energy erupted from Plasmius, blasting the ghouls away. John covered his face with his arms. Vlad lurched towards him and John quickly, messily, shot fireballs at him, staggering backwards. He tripped over some old wood, and Vlad reached a clawed hand at his arm, drawing blood. John growled and summoned a shield in his free hand. He drew it between himself and Plasmius and then threw the villain backwards with the force of a freight train. 

Quickly, the ghosts once again beat down upon their old master. Again they gnawed and grunted, but again Plasmius was too powerful. Vlad spun around and duplicated his form. Now five horned figures were fighting against the hoard. One by one, they quelled any ghost that dared fight back. Punch after blast after zap the ghosts failed, until, in a blast of brilliant burning electricity, Vlad screamed and exploded a mass of ecto-energy from his body. The ghouls were hit, and they dropped to the floor, and dematerialised into the air. John, who appeared to have been glued to the floor, gaped at the sight. The flames on his hands felt rather childish compared to that. Still, he steeled himself and stood strong. He raised shields around himself and braced for whatever evil Plasmius would do unto him. A moment passed. And another. But Plasmius did not advance. He panted, but the fire in his eyes had only grown. His expression was manic when he turned to face Constantine, greasy lines of hair falling over his face. 

“If I can’t rule the Zone, and I can’t rule here… Then I will see to it that they both burn! ”

And with that, Vlad Plasmius shot through the roof and into the sky, leaving John alive, but with blood now turned to ice.