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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Christmas

Danny yanked the zipper of his winter parka shut. His hand was already on the handle of the front door when his movement was interrupted:

"And where do you think you're going?"

Maddie had poked her head into the doorway. She was wearing her usual hazmat suit but had tied a kitchen apron over it. Her bulky goggles —a protection effective both for conducting chemical experiments and for chopping onions— were lowered onto her face. She looked like some kind of giant, irritated bug.

"I'm going to the mall. I need to buy a present for Aunt Linda."

"Danny…", she sighed, her tone heavy with disapproval.

Yeah, yeah. He was king of procrastination. He knew. He'd had the whole of December to buy his Secret Santa gift, but he'd drawn Linda, Aunt Alicia's new wife, which hadn't been too exciting —he had only met her once. Though as he saw it, nothing about Christmas was exciting. The idea of navigating through a thick crowd of frenzied shoppers amid the piercing strains of Mariah Carey made him want to hibernate in the Zone until next year. But now, there he was. The idiot who went shopping on Christmas Eve.

"Really! Why does everything need to be so last minute with you? How about that letter to the dean. You still haven't written it either, have you?"

His already bitter mood soured further and his fingers twitched in exasperation. Would there ever be a day when she would stop harping on about that? If he ever got to write the stupid letter, she'd be the first to know!

"Give me a break, Mom. It's Christmas, will you stop for a minute? You're driving me nuts!"

His mom's expression wavered briefly before settling into resignation. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Sure, she believed she was acting in his best interest, helping him, even. Steering him back on the right path. He was getting sick of it though.

Having come back from college for the winter holidays just a few days ago, he had broken the jolly news to his parents: he was provisionally suspended, pending an official decision from the administration board. Since then, he had endured their puppy-dog eyes and worried looks, each and every time he walked into a room. Poor Danny. The family disappointment.

His parents had asked questions. His mom had cried, his dad had even suggested a therapist. They had done their best to try and figure out the reason behind his academic failure. Unfortunately, there was no explanation he could give them. None that they could understand, at least. Even Jazz struggled to grasp the extent of his problem. Because, how could she?

At times, his anger gave way to desperation. A heavy, crushing thing that drained him of all energy and motivation. What good would writing a letter do anyway? Even if the board went back on its decision —which would be a small miracle—, what difference would it make? Truth was, he was cornered; trapped like a rat.

"All right then," Maddie relented, looking rather discomfited. "Don't stay out too late. Everyone will be arriving by six."

Danny felt his irritation deflate like an old balloon.

"Sure, Mom. I won't be long. An hour, tops."

Hearing him more mellow, Maddie ventured a timid, hesitant smile, as if she worried it might set him off again.

What a great son he made.

The mall turned out to be just as dreadful as he had feared: utterly packed, loud, suffocating. More than once, he was tempted to turn invisible and intangible, and walk straight through the crowd. Instead, he ended up entering the first cosmetics store he saw. It was huge, bustling with shoppers eager, like him, to complete their purchases so they could hurry back home for the evening celebration.

Glass cabinets and chrome-plated displays sprawled endlessly. A true ocean of shiny plastic, filled with lipsticks, creams and mascaras. Colorful perfumes in tiny glass bottles glistened under the artificial spot lights, neatly aligned on shelves along the walls. A heady scent permeated the air as customers liberally sprayed themselves with samples, and as if the situation weren’t dire enough, Michael Bublé's nasal voice was belting out that Santa Claus would be coming to town. Danny could feel the onset of a migraine.

He wandered through the aisles until he stumbled upon what looked like a suitable section for a gift. He should have felt relieved, but as minutes ticked by, a sense of dread settled on his shoulders. The choice of facial treatments, creams and masks was overwhelming. Cucumber, green tea, clay, aloe-vera. And a bunch of other seemingly random things. Charcoal...? Snail slime? This had to be made-up. Danny furrowed his brow as he eyed the picture of a woman on one of the ‘miracle skin sets’. Her face was covered with a thick layer of black mud, and she smiled like it was the best day of her life.

Danny stood there and looked awkwardly around him. A few feet away, a couple was also shopping. The young woman hesitated between two items in her hands, and next to her, her boyfriend waited, back hunched, shoulders strained. He noticed Danny and their gaze met. His basset-hound eyes offered him a pained look. Stay strong, buddy.

All right. The sooner he picked something, the quicker he'd be able to get away from there. He refocused on the task at hand. Whatever he selected, Aunt Linda probably wouldn’t even like it anyway. Might as well just close his eyes, point his finger at random, and...

"Danny! Danny, is that you?"

His eyes snapped open and he turned around.

"Val? Hey! What are you doing here?"

She waved a hand toward her shirt pocket, and Danny noticed her uniform and the small silver tag that read: 'Valerie, sales associate'.

"You work here! Since when?"

Valerie smiled in a way that was meant to be casual, but ended up being more of a wince.

"Since the end of high school."

"Oh. And… do you like it?"

"What do you think?" She shook her head and her face darkened. "The customers are awful this time of year. Earlier, some brat knocked over a whole box of conditioner. His mom yelled at me and threatened to sue because her kid had swallowed some of the stuff. Took me two hours to clean it all up."

"For real? That's crazy," Danny commiserated.

"The team and my manager are pretty chill though, so there's that. Besides, it always beats the Nasty Burger. I swear I still have nightmares about that fried grease smell!"

She laughed and Danny did too. Back then, she had been so embarrassed by the fast food mascot gig that she had tried to keep it a secret, but now it was no more than a lighthearted memory of her high school days.

"I actually got this job to save up for next year," she said, serious once more, as if she felt the need to explain. "I'm still planning to go to college, you know."

She acted calm and confident, but Danny knew her well enough to sense what hid beneath the facade. A wave of sympathy swept over him. A few months prior, as exams loomed and the last school day approached, a singular topic had been on every senior's lips: what next? Some had talked about going into their family businesses, a few had planned to join the army, others had contemplated gap-year trips. Most had looked forward to going to college.

At the time, Valerie had mentioned her dreams of becoming a robotics engineer. Privately, she had also told Danny that she probably wouldn’t be able to enroll in September, due to her dad's financial situation. A pang of guilt rose in the pit of his stomach. He'd been so focused on his own problems that he hadn't even bothered to check in on her since.

"I'm sorry, Val... I really should have called or messaged you. We haven't talked in ages. It must have been tough, having to stay here."

"Eh, you know me. Takes way more than that to bring me down!"

She puffed up her chest, arms on her hips, and lifted her chin in a defiant attitude that Danny recognized all too well. Towards the end of high school, soon after she had turned eighteen and faced mounting pressure from the local media, Valerie had chosen to publicly reveal her identity as the Red Huntress.

The revelation had been a shock to their classmates, while Danny had feigned surprise. As time had passed, his own secret had become buried so deep beneath the heavy pile of his lies, that he had never been able to tell the truth to Valerie. These days, she and Phantom had found a somewhat common ground, though her opinion of ghosts had never significantly changed. At best, they were ectoplasmic beings barely aware of their actions. At worst, bloodthirsty monsters to be eradicated without delay. She probably placed Phantom somewhere in the middle.

"Anyway, enough about me," she suddenly exclaimed. "What about you? How's college? You're at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, right?"

"Yeah, college is... Um, it's fine. It's going okay," Danny lied, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly captivated by a stain on the floor tiles.

Valerie squinted and her expression resembled the one she made when she suspected Phantom to play mind games with her. His vague answer had obviously failed to convince her, but much to Danny's relief, she chose not to press further and shifted the topic:

"So you're home for the holidays? What about Tucker and Sam? They're around too?"

"No, they couldn't make it back."

"Oh, how come?"

"Tucker is spending the holidays away from Amity this year. And Sam is off volunteering in Patagonia. At a sanctuary for endangered animals in Argentina, remember? She used to talk about it all the time towards the end of school?"

"Right! So she actually ended up going, huh? I always assumed it was just something she said to annoy her parents."

"Yeah, can you believe they wanted her to go to business school?" Danny chuckled at the absurd mental image of Sam in a suit and heels, giving some powerpoint presentation in an office. "Her parents are still mad. So she's decided to stay over there with the other volunteers... They're all super into ultra-recyclo veganism; she's having a blast."

"Cool..." Valerie appeared lost in thoughts, and after a moment, she added, "Hey, if you're up for it, some folks from the old crew at Casper High are throwing a New Year's party next week. You should totally come! If you don't have any other plans?"

Danny suppressed a grimace. The old crew. In other words, Dash, Paulina, Kwan, Star and the whole royal clique. His good old pals. Yeah, he'd rather spend New Year's Eve locked in Walker's prison. His face must have given away his inner thoughts, because Valerie insisted with an amused pout:

"Come ooon, it'll be fun! It's been so long! Don't you want to know how Paulina's dream career as a lifestyle influencer is going?"

A muffled groan escaped Danny's lips. And to think he'd once had a crush on Paulina. Valerie giggled.

"I'll message you the details... Just think about it," she said. Then she gestured to the shelf of beauty products Danny had almost forgotten about. "In the meantime, I'm guessing you didn't come all this way just for fun. Were you after something specific? A gift for someone?"

Danny nodded, told her what little he knew about Aunt Linda, and Valerie sprang into action.

When he finally exited the mall, gift in hand, he reflected that everything had gone quite smoothly after all. Thanks to Valerie, the ordeal had been expedited in record time, and on her advice he had opted for a Korean skincare set, which she had expertly wrapped and adorned with a silk bow.

As his eyes scanned the parking lot for his car, his thoughts lingered on Valerie. She was so smart, so strong, so dedicated. It was unfair that she had to sit on the sidelines, stuck in a minimum wage job, while idiots like Dash got the VIP treatment just because the guy could run with a football. Guilt nagged at him too, because wasn’t he partially to blame for what had happened to Valerie's dad?

He located his car and slid into the driver's seat. It was an old model that his dad had found at a local used car dealership. Danny had passed his driving test earlier that year, and his parents had bought him his very first car as a graduation present. They had done the same for Jazz, two years prior.

It’s the deal of the century, Jack had assured him, who knew enough to see that most of the vehicle's mechanics were still in good shape despite its old age. For a while, Jack had attempted to persuade him to let him tinker with the engine's injection system to make it run on an ecto-fuel which he had cooked up himself. The family SUV had already been running on ecto-fuel for years, Jack had reminded him —not necessarily a reassuring argument, though. How his father managed to pass the yearly safety inspections was a complete mystery.

Danny turned the key in the ignition and left the parking lot, heading for the beltway. Given the option, he'd pick flying over driving any time, but his mom would have had questions if he'd gone and left his car in front of the house.

It wasn't yet six o'clock when he finally pulled up in front of Fenton Works. The air was icy, and a quiet stillness hung over the street. Warm lights filtered through many houses' windows, and it was easy to imagine families and friends gathered behind the curtains, ready to spend the evening with their loved ones.

Danny walked to his house, his keys jingling as he distractedly spun them around his index finger.

"It's almost time! Hurry up and go get ready," Maddie hollered from the kitchen the moment he stepped through the door.

"Get ready?" he repeated while hanging up his coat.

"Yes, go wash up a bit! And put on a nice shirt!"

Grumbling, he made his way to the upstairs bathroom. There, he splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He attempted to flatten a few unruly spikes in his hair by sweeping a hand over it, then headed to his room, opened his wardrobe and looked at the few button downs he owned. Not many fit him anymore. He should have gotten rid of the items that had become too small a long time ago, but some odd sense of nostalgia had held him back. Last year, he had been hit by a sudden growth spurt and though he'd probably never reach his dad's height, at nineteen he was finally taller than his mom and sister.

He picked the dark blue shirt Jazz had gifted him for his last birthday and gave it a few tugs to try and smooth out a few wrinkles. Whatever. Why was his mom making such a big deal out of this anyway? Who did she think he was going to impress? Aunt Alicia wasn't the type to care about this stuff, and she'd probably show up in her usual flannel-and-suspenders outfit. As for Vlad, hell would freeze over before he admitted to being impressed by anything Danny did. Even if he started wearing Armani suits. Which he never would.

By the time he got back downstairs, the hall was already filled with conversation. Aunt Alicia had just arrived and Danny was disappointed to see that she wasn't wearing suspenders after all. Next to her stood her wife, Linda, who was chatting with Jazz. Danny had met her at their wedding in Arkansas the previous year. She was a plump woman with curly blond hair and a gentle face. When she spotted him, she offered a friendly hand wave, and Danny responded in kind before going down the last remaining steps to join the group. Aunt Alicia had just launched into a rave about how much he'd grown, when the doorbell rang.

"Danny, could you open the door?" his mom asked, as his aunts moved further down the hall to clear space in the entryway.

"Must be Vladdie!," Jack exclaimed, clapping his hands.

Danny rolled his eyes, his eyelids fluttering with resignation. He opened the door, revealing the sharp silhouette of the esteemed Vlad Masters, billionaire extraordinaire and part-time criminal. Danny's gaze lingered for a few seconds on the flashy race car parked in front of their house.

"V-MAN!" Jack shouted behind him, as if he hadn't seen the man in years.

Vlad's charismatic smile morphed into a strangled yelp as Jack rushed over to engulf him a crushing hug. Danny sniggered and ignored the dark look Vlad shot his way as he closed the door.

When Jack finally let go, Vlad ran a hand through his hair, a pinched expression on his face and adjusted his crumpled tie in an attempt to recover a more dignified appearance. Then, with a smooth smile, he greeted the other guests, before casually turning to Danny, as though he'd only just noticed his presence. Yeah, right. As if his wolfish eye didn't zero in on him whenever he stepped into Fenton Works.

Vlad tilted his head in what appeared to be a polite nod, but as his gaze caught his, he briefly flexed his spectral aura in a mock challenge to Danny's territorial claim on his haunt. He gave him a wide smile. Danny was used to his baiting though, and he bit back the instinctive urge to retaliate. That was just classic Vlad. The power plays, the arrogance, the posturing.

"Daniel. It's such a pleasure to see you again"

"Hi, Vlad. Yeah, it's been a while, huh?"

A hint of amused irritation flickered in Vlad's eyes, who was the only one suited to appreciate the sarcastic subtext. The day before, Danny had thwarted his latest scheme of the month, which had led to a full-blown confrontation in the Zone. For weeks, Vlad and Technus had been plotting something together —Danny had smelled trouble.

And then, recently, he'd unraveled the mystery. Technus had been crafting an ecto-electroplasmic computer virus for Plasmius, with the intention of unleashing it on all of Amity Park's computers and cell phones (phase one); followed by a nationwide spread (phase two). Naturally, there was only one way to get rid of it: the premium version of PlasmaSafeguard Antivirus, conveniently developed by —oh, surprise!— VladTech, at the forefront of cybersecurity and ever so concerned about your trust, you can bet on that.

Danny had destroyed most of the computers and servers Technus had been using, which had led the ghost to go ballistic, and then Plasmius had joined the fray. Danny had managed to win the fight, but just barely. They'd likely have a rematch sometime soon. Despite this, Vlad didn't look nearly as annoyed as Danny had expected. Danny suspected him to be twisted enough to take some kind of satisfaction in the challenge offered.

"Please, come on in everyone, let's move into the living room," Maddie gestured with a welcoming wave as they walked together. "Jack, could you turn off the TV?"

Jack was standing in front of the TV which was tuned in to a local news channel. He was holding out the remote, tightly clutched in his hand as if he intended to turn it off but couldn't quite bring himself to do so. Danny glanced at the screen and his heart skipped a beat.

"But, honey, it's that scoundrel Phantom, look! He's robbing jewelry stores now."

All eyes turned to the television. The reporter's voice-over was informing the viewers that the notorious resident ghost of Amity Park had seemingly renounced his self-proclaimed role as the town's protector after blowing a section of the mall, some twenty minutes prior.

Shaky, low-quality amateur videos played on the screen, obviously captured by onlookers present at the time of the explosion. Phantom's distinctive silhouette was easily recognizable and stood out against a peculiar bright circle of light, immediately followed by a powerful blast that wrecked the windows of nearby stores. The footage switched once more, revealing a group of people rushing into the shattered front of the jewelry store, shamelessly looting the display shelves to snatch watches and necklaces.

"We've got to go," Jack shouted. "He's probably heading for the bank! The good people of Amity Park need us!"

"I don't know, Jack…", Maddie said in a measured tone, her eyes still riveted on the newsflash.

She was evidently torn between her desire to hunt down Phantom, and her duty as the hostess on Christmas Eve.

"Oh, no you don't! No way!" Jazz blurted, her face reddening with anger. "We're trying to have a normal family Christmas, for once, so you better quit this nonsense! Not tonight!"

"But Jazzie-pants..." Jack whined, awkwardly shuffling where he stood. He looked like he was barely restraining himself from rushing to the garage and jumping into the Ghost Assault Vehicle to drive off to the threat. "We can't let that rascal blow up stores and get away with it!"

Danny paid them little attention, their bickering fading to a low hum in the background. He was still fixated on the TV, frozen in place, mouth agape. The video quality was subpar, but it hadn't been doctored or edited. There was no mistaking it, it truly was Phantom, his milky aura, his hazy white hair, his glowing green eyes. It was... him.

There was only one problem. Danny was pretty sure he'd have remembered if he had somehow blown up the mall in the last twenty minutes.

"Come on, look at it! It's clearly just a bunch of people taking advantage of the confusion to ransack the store! Besides, Phantom isn't even there anymore. I'm sure it must have been an accident," Jazz reasonned while shooting him an intent look.

Finally tearing his attention away from the screen, he minutely shook his head. I had nothing to do with it! But whether Jazz had caught the message or not, he still felt too stunned to voice his support. Before his dad could launch into a counter argument though, Vlad spoke up, with that same confident and assertive air he used in his mayoral speeches:

"Jasmine makes a valid point. Whatever the situation, and even if Phantom has indeed decided to get into organized crime...- " His smile revealed surprisingly sharp teeth. "-... it's obvious that the miscreant has already fled the scene. Otherwise, the journalists would have their cameras on him. I must say, it would be a shame for us to miss a pleasant evening in such charming company."

He offered a gracious smile to Maddie, and Danny glared. The miscre-what?

"Vlad's right, Jack," Maddie sighed. "We'll look into it tomorrow."

Jack's frantic demeanor eased and his shoulders sagged with disappointment. Reluctantly, he finally switched off the tv but looked as if he would have been less upset if Christmas had been canceled instead.

"Considering a career change?," Vlad whispered in his ear, after conversations had resumed around them. "Your execution needs more finesse. A jewelry store? Quite unimaginative. And explosions are the hallmark of amateurs."

"Keep dreaming," Danny grumbled.

Vlad smirked. Clearly, he didn't buy into what the news said, but he was relishing this unexpected opportunity to rile him up. Phantom's reputation had always been shaky at best, and Danny knew that the media was quick to turn against him and accuse him at the slightest misstep. It amused Vlad to no end.

Danny felt frustration well up inside him. Admittedly, chaos sometimes followed in his wake. He was out there fighting freaking ghosts for crying out loud! Of course a few eggs were bound to get broken. And sure, he had sometimes found himself in the midst of a few explosions. But it wasn't his fault! Well. It almost never was. Point was, this time he genuinely wasn't to blame. He had been long gone from the mall, twenty minutes ago. The whole thing reeked of a setup. Someone was obviously pretending to be him. Could it be Amorpho? Why would the shapeshifter resurface after all these years, though?

Danny huffed in irritation. Vlad still wore that condescending, smug look, but he somehow managed to withhold the need to defend himself. The moment would have been poorly chosen, because further away, Jack was now calling out to Vlad, a glass of champagne in his hand.

Fortunately, the rest of the evening went on without any more breaking news involving Phantom. Danny compulsively scrolled through his phone, refreshing the Amity Park News live feed for the latest posts, scanning for any mention of this impostor.

While Jack's overenthusiasm for hunting Phantom might have been a bit wacky, the reality was that it paled in comparison to Danny's own internal urgency. The mere idea of an intruder wreaking havoc in Amity Park while he was confined to a chair was unbearable, bordering on painful. Yet, he knew that no matter how clueless his parents tended to be, even they would eventually notice his absence on Christmas Eve. His only option was to try and think about the incident as little as possible. And check the news. As long as there was no immediate danger, he could manage.

At the dinner table, he found himself stuck between Vlad and Aunt Alicia. His mom had already scolded him multiple times for being glued to his cell phone, so he had no choice but to make an effort to pay attention to the ongoing conversation. Which was annoying, because Vlad was monopolizing it with his boring reelection talk. His four-year term was nearing its end, and as he explained, he would be officially launching his campaign at the beginning of the year. For the past half-hour, he had been delving into the fascinating details of mayoral elections, discussing his choice of deputy and his main opponent, Ernesto Montez.

Danny was even starting to wish they could go back to the earlier part of the evening, before dinner, when Jack had insisted on showcasing a few prototypes he was particularly proud of. He had almost set the table on fire, but at least it had been the opposite of boring.

Danny rested his chin on top of his fists, elbows propped on the table, not bothering to feign interest. At this point, he was almost hoping the turkey would start flying and attack them, like that memorable Christmas a few years back, when their meal had turned out to be ecto-contaminated and gone on a murderous rampage.

Vlad was now complaining about how hard it was to find a decent public relations team, when, much to Danny's delight, Aunt Alicia abruptly cut him off:

"Yeah, you politicians and businessmen sure do face tremendous problems, don't you?" she scoffed. "My good-for-nothing ex-husband was also involved in politics and whatnot, just like you. Always whining about one thing or another."

Vlad's mouth snapped shut so forcefully that his jaws produced an audible click. Danny could practically sense the scalding retort burning on his tight lips, but he remained silent and simply offered her a sinister smile. Aunt Alicia, who had never been one to hold back, appeared unimpressed. Danny felt suddenly awake. Finally, something interesting! Watching Vlad publicly get schooled just happened to rank right at the top of his favorite activities.

"And speaking of business, how's yours?" Alicia continued, shifting her attention to her sister and brother-in-law.

Danny sighed and slouched back in his chair. Nevermind. Here came another round of dull conversation.

"Pretty well, actually," Maddie replied cheerfully.

"Your, uh... inventions… they all work?" Alicia asked, with a dubious turn of her lip.

She was probably remembering the experimental device that had caught fire during the drinks before dinner. Danny couldn't blame her skepticism.

"Well, not all of them, of course," Maddie admitted. "We dedicate a significant amount of time to research. We're currently working on a new ecto-metal alloy to enhance ballistic performance, for instance. And every now and then, we do experience some spectacular breakthroughs."

"That’s right!" Jack exclaimed. "A few months ago, we completely revamped our approach to ecto-defense. And the city of Amity Park even became our biggest customer!"

With a wide grin, Jack gestured towards Vlad, who nodded politely.

"It’s true, most of the city has already adopted this new and improved Fenton Works technology. Amity Park has very specific needs when it comes to ghost defense."

"And Fenton Works is the best on the market," Jack added with pride.

"Yes, despite what the government may think," Maddie sighed. "The GIW keeps on sending field agents on recon missions, and let me tell you, their behavior is just awful. They’re utterly incompetent. I've even filed a complaint, but they haven't bothered to respond."

"So, ghosts are something of a plague around here, aren't they?" Linda asked, looking a bit shy.

She obviously didn't know what to make of the Fentons' enthusiasm for the paranormal, and Danny strongly suspected she didn't buy into the whole ghost thing. She probably thought they were all a bit cuckoo and was just humoring them out of courtesy.

"Indeed. They're a real plague on this town," Vlad said. "Some more than others."

Danny kept his eyes resolutely fixed on the water jug, determined to ignore the jab and the predictable mocking glance.

"Which reminds me," Maddie said. "Jack, did we ever hear back from the Patent and Trademark Office?"

"Uh, no, not yet. At least I don't think so…", Jack replied, rubbing his chin.

"It's been almost three months now," she insisted, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Are you sure you sent the letter?"

"Absolutely!," he said, nodding vehemently. "I clearly remember going to the post office and mailing it, because that was the day before Danny moved out."

"I'll have to give them a call on Monday, then," she said. "It's a patent application, after all. It's important that it goes through…"

She looked deep in thoughts, likely worried that Jack might have misplaced the letter amidst the chaos of Danny's moving-out day. It wouldn't have been the first time something like that happened. There was a reason Maddie was usually the one handling the paperwork.

"Aah, but that's right, I nearly forgot: you moved out a few months ago, didn't you, Daniel? How are classes going? How's college treating you, hmm?"

Vlad had asked the question casually, as if it really had slipped his mind. When in reality, he probably had hacked into the college network to spy on his grades and keep track of his schedule. It was both kind of ridiculous and infuriating.

Back when he had been fourteen or fifteen, Danny had readily called Vlad his archenemy. It sounded cool, and every hero had a nemesis, right? Comic book superheros always did. But since then, he'd gotten older and his perception of the world had become less black and white. He had come to realize that Vlad wasn't quite the evil mastermind he fancied himself to be. More than anything, Vlad liked to put on a show and reveled in grand theatrics. The outfit, the cape, the flamboyant hairstyle, the swirling flames. All that.

Their relationship was a strange one, and the established status-quo operated like a well-oiled machine. Vlad made his life difficult, and Danny foiled his evil schemes. Even if lately, these evil schemes hardly qualified as such. These days, Vlad's plots revolved around things like overshadowing members of the Times editorial team to secure yet another 'Person of the Year' award. Ridiculous bullshit.

When the situation called for it, they still fought, of course. That hadn't changed. But these confrontations were usually oddly comforting too in a way, like an old, familiar routine. It had been years since Vlad had truly attempted to win over his mom. And while he would still throw insults about his dad in fits of anger, Danny suspected it was largely to maintain a certain image.

Oh, he was still cautious, naturally. Vlad's moral compass had always hovered towards the darker end of the spectrum, and their worldviews fundamentally clashed. Vlad wasn't a good man; in fact, he was kind of an asshole. An asshole who thoroughly enjoyed tormenting Danny at that, as he was now, clearly relishing the sight of him squirming.

"Yeah, college... um…" Danny mumbled, arms crossed, frowning with obvious awkwardness.

Vlad's smile widened.

"You're at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, right, Danny?" Aunt Linda asked. "What are you studying?"

"Astrophysics," Danny replied, his gaze fixed on a corner of the tablecloth.

He wished they would just drop it. He'd rather hear another half-hour on mayoral elections. Why didn't they ask Jazz instead? She loved talking about her psychology studies at Harvard.

"Oh, that sounds hard," Linda offered kindly.

Danny shrugged. Classes being hard wasn't the problem.

He was still staring at that invisible spot on the table. The last thing he wanted was to catch the worried looks his parents must have been exchanging right about now.

"Danny's had... a few hiccups along the way, but he'll bounce back. Isn't that right, Danny?" Maddie said, her tone gentle.

In lieu of an answer, Danny shrugged, his expression guarded. A few hiccups. Ha! The atmosphere felt suddenly heavy around the table.

"Oh well, college is overrated anyway," Aunt Alicia interjected, breaking the tension. "Take me for instance, I was never one for studying! Do you remember, Maddie, what the principal told Mom on my graduation day?"

The conversation finally shifted to more relaxed territory, as Aunt Alicia began recounting a funny story involving the two sisters during their teenage years.

Danny couldn't wait to excuse himself and go to bed, and the evening's conclusion was a welcome relief. When time came for everyone to unwrap their Secret Santa presents, Aunt Alicia leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear:

"In case things don't work out at that fancy college of yours, you can always come stay with me in the forest and I'll teach you a few things! You've got the gear for it, now."

With a hearty slap on the back, she burst into laughter at her own joke. Danny smiled politely in return and pretended to inspect his gift: a pair of sturdy-looking logger boots with chunky soles. Probably all the rage in the lumberjack community.

"Thanks, Auntie."

Next to him, Jazz had just finished opening her present and let out a delighted squeal. Evidently, Vlad was the one who had drawn her name and had gone way off budget, as the wrapping paper revealed a sleek state-of-the-art laptop 'for her studies'. It was ultra-thin, glossy, and undoubtedly carried a hefty price tag.

Danny set down the boots, which were as robust as they were ugly. For a moment, he pictured himself in a checkered plaid shirt, wielding an ax, trudging through the forest in Aunt Alicia's footsteps.

Not the most thrilling prospect, but still marginally better than what he knew awaited him. He sighed. The future had never felt so uncertain.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

New Year's Eve

A brisk polar breeze swept through Amity Park. The snow, which had been falling relentlessly all day, had finally ceased a few hours ago, leaving the rooftops draped in white fuzzy blankets. Below, the streets lay dormant, houses neatly aligned. In an hour or so, people would cheer 'Happy New Year!', and a few would step outside to set off fireworks purchased for the occasion. Some would join in on the fun, while a few would no doubt complain about the ruckus.

Danny floated, drifting aimlessly and relishing the complete silence enveloping the city before midnight. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the air almost as icy as the ectoplasm coursing through him.

The distant slam of a door made him reopen his eyes. Down below, a woman had just got out of her car, and he casually trailed her little silhouette. She wore scrubs —a nurse, perhaps— and she was hurrying toward one of the small houses, probably eager to reunite with her loved ones for the festivities.

Everywhere, spirits were high, yet somehow Danny couldn’t shake off the gloom coating his thoughts as he kept thinking back to the previous summer. It had been the end of his high-school years, and the start of something new too. He, Sam and Tucker had known it, a brand new chapter of their lives had been about to unfold. As they had said their goodbyes, they had made a promise to each other: they would keep in touch. They’d call each other, they’d game online, and they’d still see each other during holidays. Realy, nothing would change. Except everything had.

Deep down, they had known it had been wishful thinking. Things were no longer how they used to be and they never would. High school was over. And with it, their little team, Team Phantom, and their ghost-hunting escapades.

Danny didn't blame them. Sam was volunteering on the other side of the continent, rescuing baby penguins, or something along those lines. She was living out her dreams. Meanwhile, Tucker was spending the holidays in North Carolina, with his new girlfriend's family. They had met in their Computer Science class, and it had been love at first sight. If Jazz had been around, she would have insisted on doing something fun. But Jazz wasn't here either. She had left shortly after Christmas to join some of her college friends for a skiing trip in Colorado.

No, he didn't blame any of them. He didn’t! He couldn’t fault them for wanting to live their lives. As a matter of fact, he was happy for them. Very happy, he thought fiercely, determined to push aside the jealous voice hissing in his head: what about his life? When would he get around to living it? Danny forcefully shook his head. He was not going down that road again.

It didn't matter, and he didn't mind being alone anyway. A few days earlier, Valerie, true to her word, had texted him the details of the party she had mentioned at the mall. A number of Casper High alumni, including many of his former classmates, were having a party somewhere tonight. Danny had politely turned the invitation down. He had no desire whatsoever to see any of the popular clique. Witnessing Dash flaunt his achievements and brag about his stellar performance on the college football team was the last thing he wanted. There was zero need to hammer home how much of a failure he was, thank you very much.

He continued to drift aimlessly, allowing his weighless body to move with the gentle gusts of wind, when a fleeting flash of light suddenly caught his attention —an oddly familiar shade of magenta. Huh. Without a sound, he drew closer. A shiver ran down his spine and a frosty breath escaped his lips. He squinted.

Several yards ahead, Plasmius floated and was currently in the process of reabsorbing a duplicate. He was hovering near a large house somewhat secluded from the others. While he wasn’t doing anything blatantly nefarious, something about the way he crept around set alarms in Danny’s head. He frowned. Then it clicked. He knew whose house this was. It belonged to Enesto Montez, the former mayor.

"Prepping for the elections, are we?"

Vlad whirled around. Upon seeing him, the surprise on his face morphed into annoyance. He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away an inconvenient fly.

"Go away, Daniel."

"What’cha up to, Vladdie?"

"None of your concern."

"It is, if it involves Amity Park. So, why are you lurking around Montez’s house?"

Vlad sighed in exasperation. He floated a few meters up to get closer to Danny, who eyed him warily.

"And what about yourself, pray tell. Why must you always insist on sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?" His red eyes glowed stronger in annoyance. "Why aren't you busy partying and drinking cheap beer like most other young fools your age tonight?"

Danny's expression hardened.

"None of your business," he snapped.

But it was too late. Vlad had sniffed out his weakness like a shark smells out blood, and he was already sinking his claws into the wound:

"Ah, now it's none of my business, is it? What, your little friends aren't around? Did they grow bored of you, Daniel?" Danny gritted his teeth, but couldn't help a slight twitch, which Vlad immediately seized upon. A victorious gleam flashed in his eyes. What a total bastard. "Aah, but that’s it. Your antics kept them entertained for a while, but these days, they've got better things to do. And now, you're all alone."

Vlad's words struck where it hurt, but Danny bit back the pain and welcomed with open arms the anger rising inside him.

"Are you for real? Look who’s talking! It’s New Year's Eve, and here you are, scheming over pointless shit for your stupid election. You’re the one who’s all alone, Vlad! You’re pathetic!"

Danny had spat out the insult with an unusual rage. Vlad had struck a nerve, and he wanted to hit back, hard. Vlad's face contorted with fury and he crouched slightly, as if to launch for an attack. Danny clenched his fists and ecto-energy sizzled beneath his fingertips in response, ready to strike back.

And then, out of nowhere and against all odds, Vlad huffed a sharp breath, straightened up and smoothed out his features. He raised his nose in disdain:

"I have no time for your childish games."

Stunned, Danny could only watch helplessly as he turned his back and floated away. An unsavory blend of disappointment and anger swept over him. Was Vlad seriously blowing him off like that? The thought was infuriating. The nerve!

BANG!

Danny had fired an ecto-blast, striking his target square between the shoulder blades. Vlad lurched forward before spinning around, his expression both pained and shocked. He obviously hadn't thought that Danny would hit him from behind. Understandable, given that his usual fighting style definitely wasn’t so dirty or aggressive. But fuck it. Danny was upset, miserable, humiliated, lonely and pissed off. A good fight to clear his mind was just what he needed. And Plasmius made the perfect outlet.

"Attacking your enemy from behind? Well played. Seems like I did manage to teach you a thing or two after all."

He sneered and unleashed a rapid series of ecto-blasts that Danny deflected with a shield. Lunging forward, hands ablaze with crackling green energy, Danny released a wide, powerful ecto-beam that Vlad narrowly avoided by teleporting away moments before impact. He reappeared behind Danny, catching him off-guard, and seized his neck. His hold was iron and scorching with ecto-energy.

"Aaagh! Let go!"

Danny thrust his own hands upward in a desperate attempt to loosen his grip, but it held firm. He tried to go intangible, but of course in such close combat, it was useless: Vlad could sense how his energy fluctuated and could effortlessly follow him between planes. Danny roared. He grabbed Vlad's wrists around his neck again and drew from deep within to let an icy flow run along his fingertips.

Vlad yelped and immediately released his hold, sensitive, as Danny knew, to his ice powers whose properties clashed with his own elemental physiology. Without pausing to catch his breath, Danny charged again and delivered an uppercut that Vlad narrowly evaded.

"What’s gotten into you, Daniel?"

Something akin to a growl rumbled in his throat:

"Shut up, Plasmius."

Forget the small talk, he wanted to fight, to stop thinking. Jaw clenched tight, Danny launched another attack with renewed vigor. His movements were growing more brutal, but sloppier too. He threw a right hook that Vlad easily countered with a backhand. Soon the dynamic of the duel shifted, as Vlad no longer actively seeked to hit and focused on parrying and dodging instead.

"Daniel. Stop. What is it with you tonight?"

Danny knew he wasn’t thinking straight, and Vlad had obviously noticed. To his dismay, he suddenly realized that Vlad was actually starting to look vaguely worried, which only fueled his frustration. Why wasn't Vlad fighting back? He usually jumped at any chance to beat the living daylights out of him... And right when that was precisely what Danny was after, he wanted to talk?

"What the hell do you care?" Danny shouted. He shot another ecto-blast at Vlad, and this time it hit him head-on. Vlad grunted in pain. He just had to keep this up. Vlad would eventually lose his temper and retaliate. "I just want to fight! I have to! There's nothing else to get! So shut up already and fight me!"

A part of his mind registered that he was now shaking. From what, he didn’t know. Anger, surely? To make things worse, his attempts to provoke were obviously falling flat. Vlad countered his ecto-blasts onslaught with a protective dome shield, then flew back down and landed on the roof of an abandoned building. Much to Danny's surprise, a ring of black light appeared around his waist and he reverted to his human form.

"I refuse. I demand you explain yourself. What is happening?"

I refuse, I demand. Was this guy for real? Fury pounded in his temples like a drumbeat. Danny hung in mid-air, grinding his teeth. Then, bursting forth from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye, he propelled toward Vlad. His legs lost their corporeal shape, leaving a milky trail in his wake. He was a comet in the night. Vlad would have no choice but to dodge or fight back. In human form, such an impact could kill him.

Vlad had to dodge.

Or fight back.

He had to.

Danny screeched to a halt.

Vlad hadn’t budged an inch, feet firmly rooted to the rooftop. He hadn’t even flinched. Panting, teeth still grinding, Danny's face hovered mere inches from his, glaring fiercely. His fists burned with ecto-energy, casting a green reflection in Vlad’s unblinking blue eyes.

His frustration had reached its peak, but even then, Danny knew he couldn't attack Vlad in this form. His human body was too weak to withstand the force of Phantom's blows, as pissed off as he was.

"Transform," Danny hissed, his fists still clenched and glowing, the barely contained energy threatening to escape at any moment.

"No."

"COWARD! DO IT!"

"THAT’S ENOUGH!"

Danny was well aware he wasn't in his right mind, because whatever Vlad had been up to, it didn’t remotely warrant such a reaction from him. Yet, his need to release his pent-up anger through violence was so overwhelming, that he couldn’t stop. To stop meant to think. And thinking only brought pain.

Vlad frowned. He had no trouble holding his gaze, clearly immune to the inherent unease that would normally seize the living in such close proximity to a ghost.

"I’m not one to shy away from knocking some sense into you, as you well know", Vlad stated evenly.

"Then fight," Danny breathed bitterly, though he knew it was a losing battle.

"No. You might be a reckless teenager, but you act like you’re on the brink of a nervous breakdown. So, out with it, what’s the matter?"

Danny swallowed. He was reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that Vlad would not finish their fight, no matter how much he pushed. He shook off his hands and the energy gathered in his fists dissipated into the night air.

In the course of their face-off, they had strayed away from the residential district into the outskirts, and Vlad had landed on the roof of an old ten-story building. Once a textile mill and its offices, it now stood abandoned for years. The street below lacked public lighting, but the moonlight and Phantom's faint glow were more than enough for their nocturnal eyes.

"You said you had to," Vlad pressed on, as Danny said nothing. "What did you mean by that?"

Danny felt his throat tighten and his breath hitched. With a start, he realized his anger was crumbling under the weight of the misery that had been hiding there all along. Not a minute ago, the urge to punch Vlad’s stupid face had been all-consuming but now, a deep weariness settled into his bones. Vlad was right: he had acted erratically. He’d completely lost it.

"Nevermind, Vlad. Forget it. Just leave. Go back to spying on Montez or whatever."

"Not until you tell me what is going on."

Danny let out a disbelieving huff.

"Oh, really? Why? What’s your angle? Trying to find a new weakness you can use against me? You’ll never change."

"Right back at you. Always so quick to jump to conclusions and accuse me of the worst, yet you’re the one who came picking a fight tonight, in case you’ve forgotten. You’re mistaken, though; my question has no ulterior motives." At this, Danny barked a mirthless laugh. How much of an idiot did he take him for? Vlad always had ulterior motives. Vlad lifted an impatient eyebrow. "The fact is, I have many years of experience over you. Perhaps I could offer some advice?"

Danny touched down on the roof as well. He gave a feeble kick into the powder snow and shoved his hands into his pockets, watching glumly as the flakes fluttered in the dark sky. He sighed and decided to follow Vlad’s lead. A ring of light flashed and split around him, momentarily painting the surrounding area a brilliant white. He felt the familiar weight of his body enveloping him, heavy and comforting.

"Yeah, I guess you’d know about that stuff."

"About what? What do you mean?"

Danny snorted. For fuck's sake. He was such a loser. Was he seriously considering spilling his guts to Vlad of all people...? He sure had a knack for digging his own grave, didn't he? On the flip side, he'd already hit rock bottom, so at least he couldn’t fall much further down.

"What I mean is... I'm stuck." he blurted out, slapping a hand against his chest. "Everything; my…"

His throat constricted painfully and his voice cracked, choking off his words. Emotion surged through him like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf everything in its path. He had no choice but to fall silent to spare himself the humiliation of tears. When he spoke again, his voice was a barely more than a whisper:

"My future. My studies, my plans. I'm stuck. I want to move forward. Get my degree, fulfill childhood dreams, work at NASA someday, even." He closed his eyes. The words came a bit more easily, now that he had started. "Except Phantom won’t let me. I can't leave."

When he reopened his eyes, he turned to gaze at the city lights of Amity Park. Where it all began. Where it would end.

"Part of me wants to move on, start something new, but the other half of me won’t allow it. As if it doesn’t want things to change, ever."

A minute stretched by in silence. Danny let his gaze linger on the houses and buildings, bathed in moonbeams that glided over their snow-covered roofs like silk. His eyes were heavy, his brow furrowed. Any moment now, he half-expected Vlad to sneer at him. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd kick him when he was already down. But when he broke the silence, his voice was unusually gentle:

"Is this related to the challenges you’ve been facing at college?"

Danny nodded, the words stuck in his throat. Something painful was throbbing behind each side of his jaw, and his eyes tingled. He was going to get kicked out. It was pretty much a given, now. The fleeting memory of the joy he had felt upon opening his acceptance letter flooded back to him. Dear Mr. Fenton, we are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into our astrophysics undergraduate program.

He had worked so hard to make his dream come true. It hadn't been easy, but despite the mediocre grades he had earned as a high school freshman, he had managed to turn things around. Over time, he had found a healthy balance between Fenton's goals and Phantom's priorities.

That acceptance letter had opened a world of possibilities. Or not. Up until then, Danny had never really left Amity Park, not since he had become a half-ghost. At least, never for more than a few days. A week's vacation, here and there, at most. He hadn't known.

"I don’t have a choice. I can’t sleep, because there's not enough time, it's impossible. I study and work as much as I can, but... UW-Madison is just too far from Amity Park."

Okay, scratch that. Now this was rock bottom. He was painfully aware of how pathetic he was. His eyes flicked to his side. Vlad was watching him with a solemn expression that Danny couldn’t quite place. It was unsettling, but certainly better than the usual contempt, for sure.

"I need to come back every weekend at the very least. If I don’t, I go nuts. I mean, I tried, at first, but…"

Danny stifled a shiver and although he was only wearing a t-shirt, the sporadic gusts of icy wind had nothing to do with it. Yes, he'd tried during that first month. So damn hard! There was no way he’d let himself be ruled by these instincts, these ghostly urges. His obsession. He hadn't even known that's what it had been, back then.

In the past, Sam and Tucker had pointed out that his drive to protect Amity Park often went way beyond a simple sense of duty. Danny had always brushed off their concerns with a joke. It was ridiculous. Obsessed, him?

He hadn't lasted two weeks. One Thursday afternoon, he'd gotten up from his seat in the middle of class, shaking, restless. Defeated. He'd left campus and, unable to endure another second, he'd flown straight back to Amity. His brain in a fog, his thoughts a maddening loop. It was only after two days of frantic patrolling, feverishly scouring every corner of Amity, that he had begun to come back to his senses.

"But, what? Go on. What happens if you don't return?"

"At first, it’s manageable. I start with little things, like reading the Amity Park news, checking the local police updates, harmless stuff. But as it goes on, I do it more and more often. At some point, nothing cuts it anymore. I start seeing the city invaded, or burning in flames. Knowing everything is actually fine doesn’t help, nothing does. I freak out."

"So, you've been returning to Amity every weekend since starting school?"

"Yeah. I told my parents, at first, because I was staying at their place anyway. But my grades were getting worse and they started to worry. They think I have anxiety issues, or an attachment disorder, something like that."

Danny shrugged. For obvious reasons, letting Jack and Maddie Fenton in on the fact that their son was actually victim to acute bouts of ghostly obsession had never been an option.

"In the end, I stopped telling them. Now I still come back on weekends, but I don't go home. That way, I can patrol non-stop. I don’t sleep and I don’t have much time for studying or doing my homework. I leave by Sunday evening, but even if I hurry, it's about a six-hour flight from Amity Park to Madison. So, yeah, not much time for anything, really. Anyway, you can guess where this is headed... I'm running headfirst into a wall. Pretty dumb, huh?"

Danny chuckled dejectedly, feeling drained from within, caught between relief and shame. This heartfelt confession had left him raw.

"Of course, it’s dumb," Vlad sighed.

His tone lacked the usual blend of arrogance. It wasn’t pitying either, and for that Danny silently thanked him. More than anything else, he didn’t think he could have stomached it.

Danny turned to look at him. Vlad seemed tired, and his somber expression brought forth a chilling realization. He was probably the only person on earth who could genuinely understand. The concept of obsession —its power, its hold— was beyond human comprehension. As for ghosts, it was the very idea of fighting against something so defining that made no sense to them. He and Vlad were somewhere in the middle. Human enough to feel the shackles, too ghost to shake them off.

"Are you planning to return to college, once winter break ends?" Vlad asked.

"I doubt they'll take me back. I'm suspended and I have no way of explaining my spotty attendance, tardiness, missed assignments, and everything else." He shrugged. His failure was inevitable. "And anyway, even if they did accept me back: what's the point? I don't see how next semester could play out any differently."

He would forever be bound to his need to protect Amity Park.

"It is impossible to overcome an obsession."

Danny winced despite himself. The O word. That was what it had been about all along, naturally, but Vlad’s blunt acknowledgement caught him off guard, somehow. Of course, this whole conversation felt surreal. Never in a million years had he envisioned talking about this with Vlad. This wasn’t a topic that got discussed. Ever.

"Let alone ignore it," Vlad continued. "I should know. Nevertheless, it is possible to make things more... bearable. We're not full ghosts. We're also human, and that's an advantage we can leverage. It gives us flexibility, to a certain extent."

"Yeah, how so? Unless you mean I should count myself lucky that I need to come home only on weekends, maybe?" Danny joked half-heartedly.

But Vlad was serious:

"Precisely. If you were a full ghost, I highly doubt you'd be able to leave this town at all. Or even want to."

A shiver of dread crawled down his spine like cold slime. The idea was horrifying.

"Great...," he mumbled. "So, in short, I’m doomed."

"Not necessarily. You just need to use what leeway you have to your advantage."

Danny pondered this for a minute, mulling over the comment.

"But I don't have any... leeway?"

"You said so yourself: coming back on weekends is a tolerable frequency and an acceptable compromise."

"Acceptable? Yeah, right. Look where it got me."

He failed to see where Vlad was going with this. These recurring weekly trips were precisely what had gotten the better of him, they had just gone over that. Even if he only came home on weekends, it was still too much. The pace was unsustainable.

"The main issue lies in the time it takes you to travel from Amity Park to Madison, yes?" Vlad mused, rubbing his chin with a pensive look. Danny nodded. "Have you ever considered traveling through the Zone instead? Its unique geometry might work in your favor."

"Um, well yeah, I did think about it... I mean, there’s a ghost portal in my parent’s basement, so of course I considered that. And, well... I knew where to find a portal in Wisconsin too, so..." Danny shot Vlad a sidelong look, before raising his palms in a gesture of innocence. "Not that I would have broken into your house, obviously." Vlad rolled his eyes and motioned for him to continue. "Anyway, the distance between your portal and my parents' within the Zone is only a bit shorter. It hardly makes a difference. Plus, it's not ideal anyway: there’s always a risk my parents might shoot me on my way out."

Vlad titled his head as if he hadn't thought of that specific point. There was one thing the Fentons had never wavered on, and that was their deep-seated animosity towards Phantom. The sight of him wandering around their home —something he insisted on doing— never failed to drive them up the walls.

"I've also tried creating natural portals myself, but, um, I haven’t been very successful."

"Opening paradimensional portals is a delicate task that requires specific skills."

"Can you do it?"

If Vlad had this power and if he was willing to teach Danny, then maybe... But that glimmer of hope was snuffed out before it could take root. Vlad shook his head.

"No. But I do have another idea."

His piercing blue gaze locked onto Danny's, and he paused for a moment as if to heighten the suspense. Danny wasn’t in the mood for his dramatics however. He raised both eyebrows in exasperation.

"What? Spit it out."

Normally, such a display of blatant insolence would have irked Vlad, but he seemed so pleased with himself that he didn't even bat an eye. Weird.

"You might not know this, but I have a portal in my lab here, in Amity Park."

Danny paused, taken aback. If that were true, then it must have been a recent addition, because the last time he'd been at Vlad's, he hadn’t felt a thing. Portals to the Zone, whether natural or artificial, emitted distinct microvibrations that no ghost could miss. Danny knew this well, having spent the past four years of his life lulled to sleep by the ectoplasmic oscillations of the Fenton Works portal, a few floors below his bedroom.

Noticing his surprise, Vlad gave him a smug smile.

"Did you move the one you had in Wisconsin?"

"No, this one is new. I now have two portals. One, as you’re aware, in my castle in Wisconsin. And the other in my Amity Park home."

He was now scrutinizing him. As though he expected Danny to finally grasp what he was... Oh. Oh! Excitement spiked through him:

"And these two portals... their location within the Zone... are they...?"

"Close to each other?," Vlad said. "They are. About half an hour's flight, give or take. I often need to travel between my residences, and because time is of the essence, I made sure to optimize my calculations accordingly."

His brain buzzed with sheer exhilaration. The space-time continuum of the Zone did not adhere to the same Euclidean rules as the world of the living. It was part of the reason it was so difficult to map. Entry and exit points within the Zone did not necessarily mirror the physical distances that existed on the other side.

Normally, commuting between Amity and Madison took him hours, but if he could shorten that journey to a half hour by passing through two strategically located portals... He'd be able to come back every weekend and fulfill his need to protect without having to sacrifice his studies. It would be a complete game-changer! He'd finally be able to...—The warm hope within him burst like a soap bubble under the sun. There was just one problem.

Vlad never offered anything out of the goodness of his heart.

"Why would you help me? What do you get out of this?"

"You wound me, little badger. You know how much I strive to help whenever I can."

"Vlad."

He had the audacity to look offended. Seriously. As if he hadn't spent the last four years manipulating Danny whenever it suited him. That he still believed he could pull off the innocent philanthropist act bordered on the ridiculous.

"So?" Danny insisted, suspicious and dead set on figuring out his game.

Vlad gave a brief huff of disdain, but Danny wasn't fooled. Without much surprise, Vlad finally tilted his chin, looking thoughtful, as if he were just now contemplating the possibility of a potential payoff for his generous offer. Ha.

"I am being sincere," Vlad began, his words measured. "I am willing to let you use my portals as you please. Additionally, I am willing to let you stay at my place in Amity Park on weekends. My house is certainly big enough." He paused again, as if choosing his next words with great care. At last, he reached the heart of the matter: "I don't ask for much in return. Just that you try to view this... arrangement, as a genuine cohabitation. And, at the very least, that you don’t treat my house like a hotel."

As Vlad spoke, his posture stiffened to an almost defensive stance. He looked as if he expected Danny to tell him to get lost, yet the cautious way he'd phrased his proposal hinted at the importance he attached to it. Danny stared at him. The request seemed very reasonable. Perhaps too reasonable. Experience reminded him to tread carefully.

"It’s not another stupid plan to turn me into your evil apprentice?"

"No", Vlad retorted. "Though I've never stopped wanting to teach you, you know that"

Yeah, by shooting ecto-blasts in my face, Danny thought to himself, opting to remain silent this time. He'd dealt with Vlad often enough in the past to remain apprehensive. There was something else. Vlad wasn't lying, but... he wasn't telling the whole truth either. Danny had learned to pick up on his cues. His gaze was elusive.

"Then what is it?"

Nearly a whole minute passed in silence. Finally, with obvious reluctance, Vlad admitted:

"You're not the only one grappling with an obsession."

Danny felt his jaw drop and had to make a conscious effort to regain a more neutral expression. How hadn’t he thought of that?

Vlad's obsession wasn’t a mystery. His infatuation with Maddie, his delusions about having Jazz and Danny move in with him. More than mere revenge on Jack, it was the idea of a family that ate at him —or at least, his obsessed mind’s warped idea of one. It was tragic, undoubtedly, for a man who possessed more power and wealth than he could ever desire, to yearn for something so ordinary for most people.

Vlad had acted decent tonight, though. Danny had talked and he hadn't mocked him once. He had listened. Danny was determined to reciprocate the courtesy. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

"Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s say I spend weekends at your place. Then what? We play cards on Sunday afternoons or something? What exactly... is required?"

"I don't play cards," Vlad said curtly. He still looked uncomfortable, but his tone had regained an exasperated edge that was much more like him. "I’m not asking you to do anything. And we're not here to talk about me."

Danny grunted in displeasure. He had just spilled his guts, but of course, heaven forbid Vlad would reveal a glimpse of vulnerability. Not the great Plasmius.

"Fine, whatever. Don’t think I won’t bring it up again though."

"Does that mean you accept?"

"I'll have to think about it. I guess maybe I should at least try writing that letter to the dean, now... see if there's any chance at all that they'll keep me. But it's a long shot."

"That would be a wise decision."

At that exact moment, explosions boomed in the distance. Colorful bursts lit up the sky, while joyful shouts and cheers echoed in the night.

A black ring glided along Vlad, leaving in its wake Plasmius’s dark silhouette, whose red eyes gleamed sharply in the moonlight. Danny felt a cold mist escape his lips.

"Happy New Year, little badger," he said, rising into the air, his cape gently billowing in the wintry breeze.

Danny transformed too. Freed from gravity, his feet lifted off the ground.

"Yeah. Happy New Year to you too, fruitloop."

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Early January

The answer came quickly. Well into the first week of the year, Danny received it on a morning that began like any other.

As he entered the kitchen, he let out a wide yawn and slumped into a chair. He reached for the cereal box on the table, still feeling half asleep and wishing he could have slept a bit longer. He would have too, if it hadn’t been for a lab explosion that had shook the house and jolted him awake. Though these loud noises were common at Fenton Works, it didn't make them any less annoying —especially when they occurred so early, after he'd spent all night chasing ghost octopuses across town.

He poured cereal into a bowl while Maddie fetched the milk from the fridge to set it on the table beside him, gently tousling his hair.

"Good morning, sweetie," she greeted, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"Morning, Mom. Was that Dad in the lab?"

"Oh, yes, that’s right. Your father is replacing the Specter Speeder’s spark plugs."

She smiled, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation for a deafening detonation of that kind. Danny shrugged. As he ate, she lingered there, fiddling with something in her hands and shuffling her feet oddly. Finally, she drew a short breath and placed an envelope on the table, nudging it towards him with one finger.

"You've got mail."

Her eyes shone with a peculiar mix of worry and anticipation which told him this couldn’t be just a late Christmas card from some elderly great-aunt. He glanced down, and the sight of the logo in the top right corner was an instant bucket of ice down his spine. Just like that, he was wide awake.

University of Wisconsin–Madison

The day following his encounter and subsequent conversation with Vlad on the rooftop, he had gathered his courage and written to his college dean to plead his case. Though he knew he had lacked good arguments to help his situation, he had tried his best to write that email. Still, he very much doubted that he had managed to convince anyone. As he had told Vlad, his less than stellar behavior in the first term could hardly be defended.

He took the letter and ran a finger over the UW-Madison crest, his breakfast now entirely forgotten. The response would be negative, surely? He stared at the envelope, unable to move. Schrödinger's letter. As long as he didn't open it, the probability remained non-zero.

"Go on, honey, open it."

Danny shot her a nervous glance. Somehow, she looked even more anxious than he felt. With a lump in his throat, he tore open the envelope and extracted the paper that would seal his fate. His eyes darted over the text, jumping from line to line.

Dear Mr. Fenton... following the meeting of the Disciplinary Board on December 16th blah blah ... you have been suspended pending an official resolution... blah blah blah... please understand our deep regret at having to take such measures...

Yes, yes, he already knew all that. His gaze finally locked onto the key paragraph:

In response to your request on January 1st, and considering the exceptional circumstances surrounding your case, we are pleased to inform you of the decision to lift your academic suspension and reinstate you to your degree course —Bachelor of Science in Astrophysics.

This was followed by a few polite words encouraging him to make the most of this opportunity, along with a reminder of the second term’s start date. Then the signature:

Dr. Thomas Khang, Dean of the Physics Department.

Danny raised his head, dumbfounded. He met his mom's eyes and nodded, feeling caught in a daze. Despite his obvious shock, Maddie seemed to easily read what she sought on his face, because she erupted into a delighted squeal and embraced him in a tight hug.

"Oh, Danny, yes! I'm so glad you took a chance and decided to write to them! This is fantastic!"

His mom's joy was infectious. As he read the letter again, more slowly this time, a smile gradually spread across his lips. He was allowed to go back! It was almost unbelievable. He had somehow managed to persuade them; how on earth had he pulled that off? One bit stood out... considering the exceptional circumstances surrounding your case… Huh.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by his dad who had barged into the kitchen. His cheeks were smeared with dirt and his hair was a disheveled mess, but he wore a broad grin:

"What's going on around here? Are we celebrating something?" he asked while wiping his hands in a dirty rag.

"Danny got an answer from college: he’s back in!" Maddie cheered, before Danny could even open his mouth.

"Well done, son!" Jack thundered, delivering a hearty slap on the back that sent him nose-diving into his cereal bowl. "I knew you had this! Ah, wait a second, I’ve got just the thing for the occasion! Where's that Fenton waffle maker?"

The Fenton waffle maker was an ordinary appliance whose mold Jack had ingeniously reshaped after his own face. While his dad rummaged through every cupboard in search of the gadget, Danny carefully refolded the letter and tucked it away in his pocket. An electric happiness tingled in his arms and neck. This was his one shot and he wouldn’t waste it. He was so going to make the most of this unexpected second chance.

Which, of course, meant he now had some things to consider. Namely, Vlad.

"Ugh, looks like it’s busted," Jack sighed. He had found the waffle maker, but it refused to turn on. "I’ll make it up to you later, son."

"Leave it, Jack. Come take a look at this instead", Maddie interjected. "They finally got back to us after my call last week."

She had gone through the rest of the mail: a bill, a few ads, and something bearing an official-looking seal. Danny glimpsed the header: United States Patent and Trademark Office. Maddie was engrossed in reading. Her earlier cheerfulness had faded and she was now completely focused —and a bit troubled? Jack stomped closer and peered over her shoulder to read alongside her.

"They’re saying there’s no pending file under Fenton, Jack. Are you positive you sent the application back in September?"

Jack's forehead wrinkled.

"Yes, I’m sure," he said slowly. "I really am, Mads. It's like I said last time, it was the day before Danny moved out, I definitely remember sending it."

"And you did send it via certified mail, like I asked you to, right?"

This time, Jack’s confidence seemed to waver a bit.

"Um…"

"The post office must have given you a receipt as proof of mailing. Did you keep it?"

Jack scratched his head in confusion and Danny knew it was a lost cause.

"We're running out of time, Jack! We'll have to file another patent application immediately."

Maddie sprang to her feet, waving the letter frantically, while Jack shot desperate looks in every direction, as if hoping to spot the mailing receipt magically stuck to a wall somewhere.

Danny, well accustomed to his parents' frenzied behavior, quickly tuned them out as his thoughts drifted away. Returning to his cereals, he contemplated his next moves.

Going back to college meant accepting Vlad's offer. Their previous dealings had always rested on shaky grounds, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the prospect of spending every weekend at Vlad’s mansion. Would Vlad try to take advantage of the situation? Most likely. But did Danny even care? After all, he obviously benefited from the arrangement too.

He hadn't seen Vlad since that night on New Year's Eve. Should he text him? Go to his house? He certainly wasn’t used to paying him friendly visits, but if they were to live together... What other option did he even have? This was it, no turning back.

Yes, he just needed to talk to him.

In the end, Danny didn’t get the luxury to hesitate long over the best way to contact Vlad. The opportunity presented itself the very next day.

The previous night, Technus had gotten into his head that he needed to teach Danny a lesson for disrespecting him a few weeks ago, and he had seized control of a home appliance store. Danny had spent the night taming explosive microwaves and wrangling coffee makers until he could shove Technus into the thermos — but sadly, not before his cell phone had taken a dive into a possessed toaster, frying its battery.

As a result, he had gone early that afternoon to a local repair store to fix his phone. Upon returning home, he noticed a suspiciously expensive-looking car parked in front of Fenton Works —a Maserati that stuck out like a sore thumb, its glossy black body looking utterly out of place next to the family's Ghost Assault Vehicle.

He entered the house, cautiously surveying his surroundings as he walked in. He could sense a faint, subdued ecto signature further inside, and when he finally spotted Vlad in the living room, it didn’t come as much of a surprise. He appeared busy reading something or another. In fact, Danny soon noticed that the dinner table was entirely covered with papers and documents. A second later, Vlad glanced up and offered him a cordial smile.

"Daniel, there you are! How are you?"

"Hi. What are you doing here?" he inquired, his tone a bit harsher than he had meant —old habits died hard. "Why are you here alone, and where are my parents?"

Vlad didn’t appear offended by the lukewarm reception and evident mistrust. He simply gestured towards the papers strewn across the table. On closer inspection, Danny noticed several colorful posters and brochures. A leaflet caught his eye. Phantom's silhouette, crossed out in red. Nice.

"I'm fine-tuning a section of my manifesto. My PR team advised me to focus my communications on anti-ghost security and to team up with the town’s local experts."

He infused the word 'experts' with as much irony as two syllables could convey, but Danny barely noticed. He grabbed the leaflet, read it, frowned, and shoved it under Vlad’s nose:

"What's this now? Is that supposed to be me?"

The leaflet proclaimed: Let's make Amity Park free of ghost attacks: vote Vlad Masters! Beneath the text, a large no-symbol had been stamped on top of an all-too-familiar silhouette.

"This logo represents the ghost threat hanging over this city in a general sense. Not necessarily a…"

"What’s your problem?" Danny said, tossing the leaflet away in disgust. "Again with the anti-Phantom bullshit? Tsk...— it's exactly the same crap as last time."

Four years prior, Vlad's bid for mayor had largely been fueled by his rivalry with Danny. At that time, Vlad had heavily leaned into anti-Phantom propaganda, ultimately winning the elections, though no one seemed to recall actually voting for him. It had been an arrogant way of telling him: I run your town —and a particularly provocative insult, given Phantom's well-known territorial nature.

Since then, things had changed. Much to Danny's surprise, Vlad appeared to enjoy his role as mayor. The public seemed to agree he was good at it too, and the press praised his contributions to the city. The upcoming election polls were in his favor, and in fact, he stood a solid chance of winning without resorting to overshadowing anyone this time around.

So why did Vlad insist on playing these childish games?

"I’ll have you know that this logo was entirely designed by Fenton Works," Vlad scoffed.

Danny shot another irritated look at the leaflet. Indeed, the logo’s outline did remind him of his mom's drawing style. Ugh, whatever. Vlad continued:

"And it’s not my fault if concerns over ghost-related insecurity are at the forefront of my constituents' minds. You should understand, considering all the ghost attacks we've suffered lately. Two dragons, just a few weeks ago! It’s only natural that people are worried. And then, another incident, right on Christmas Eve…"

Vlad barely concealed a smirk, the hint of a sharp fang peeking out behind his lips.

"If you’re referring to that stupid thing with the jewelry store at the mall, that wasn't me!" Danny protested.

"Why, yes, of course," Vlad replied in a tone that suggested otherwise. "And the household appliance store last night, that wasn't you either, I suppose? I've already received dozens of complaints on my desk since this morning, you know."

"Yeah okay, last night, that was me. Well, it was mostly Technus, really," he said. "But on Christmas, it was this... fake Phantom, like a doppelganger or something. I don't know, my life's complicated, alright?"

"So I’ve gathered...," Vlad drawled in a manner that never failed to grate on Danny’s nerves. "Nevertheless, you can imagine that for the good citizens of Amity Park, whether it was Phantom or his mysterious twin, it makes little difference."

Danny sighed in defeat. He didn’t want to admit it, but Vlad had a point. Lately, Phantom’s image had plummeted to an all-time low. Which was fantastic, because he just loved spending his nights protecting this city only to be repaid with insults and suspicion.

"You should be glad your parents are consultants on this project," Vlad noted. "It speaks volume about how much their reputation has improved."

He rolled his eyes as he spoke, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. Yet, there was no denying the truth. Once the laughing stock of their parascientific community, Jack and Maddie Fenton were now held in high regard as professionals. Their work had garnered widespread recognition, and the fact that Amity Park was now fully equipped with Fenton technology was no coincidence. It was known for being the most cutting-edge on the market.

"Yeah, speaking of my parents, where are they?"

"Maddie’s making tea in the kitchen. Jack has just stepped out. He said something about getting an ice cream cake, I believe."

"A cake? Why?"

"Can’t you guess?"

Danny stared at him.

"Your parents are over the moon that you’re going back to college. They told me everything. I think congratulations are in order." Vlad said. He allowed a strategic pause to linger, before adding with calculated empathy: "They worry about you, you know."

Although Vlad’s attempt at psychological manipulation was obvious, a pang of guilt twisted in Danny’s stomach. He had caused his parents so much trouble, hidden so many things, and lied so often to cover his tracks. He was far from being an ideal son. He glared at Vlad, who watched him, something akin to hunger shining in his eyes.

"Cut the mind games. You just want to make sure I go back so I’ll stay at yours."

"Does that mean you’ve made your decision?"

Danny ran a hand through his hair, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He nodded.

"Yeah, I accept."

"Excellent, then I will...-"

His words were cut off by a loud scream and a series of detonations.

Bang, bang, bang!

"GHOST!"

Danny tensed and Vlad startled in his chair. Their eyes locked for a split second, just as Maddie roared in the kitchen. Danny bolted out of the living room, a half-baked plan already taking shape in his brain. He turned invisible, not wanting his mom to see him and intending to catch the intruder off guard. But as he neared the kitchen, he came to an abrupt halt.

Just a few feet ahead, his doppelganger, in ghost form, darted through the hallway. Danny's eyes widened, the ground suddenly unsteady beneath his feet. The illusion was unnerving. How could it be so perfect? And —a troubling question sliced through his hazy thoughts, like the sharp blade of a knife— why hadn't his ghost sense gone off? No shiver, no chilly hiccup. For the first time in his life, his sixth sense had failed him.

He had to go after him! Right as that thought flashed in his mind, the strange lookalike flew through the wall and vanished. Danny took a step forward, but his head was reeling from the shock and he lost his invisibility. He swayed, steadying himself against the wall with a hand.

"Danny, are you all right?"

Maddie had emerged from the kitchen, gun in hand, safety goggles down. She looked furious.

"That blasted Phantom! Snooping again! When will he learn not to meddle in our business!"

The sound of galloping footsteps echoed behind them.

"Phantom! Where is he?"

Jack was back. Danny turned around. His dad, a massive orange silhouette, rushed into the room, a sizable ice cream cake in his hands. He hurried toward them, followed closely by Vlad.

"Yes! He might still be here! I managed to hit him," Maddie said, cocking the ecto-gun she still held firmly before her. "Danny, Vlad, you stay here, don't move!"

Jack shoved the cake into Vlad's arms with such force that he staggered back a step. He pressed a button on his utility belt and an array of ecto-weapons sprung out from his suit and pockets. He then charged down the corridor, shouting war cries alongside Maddie.

Danny watched them go and blinked, debating whether he should do something. He turned and saw Vlad holding the cake; their eyes met. Vlad raised a curious eyebrow.

"He... he looked just like me! Phantom! I mean, he was…"

Danny could still vividly picture the other Phantom, jumping and disappearing through the wall, right before his eyes. The resemblance had been uncanny.

Seeing a look-alike on TV had been one thing; but this.... even though it had lasted less than a second, it had sent shivers down his spine. Just yesterday, he had still entertained the possibility of Amorpho's involvement, but now he knew it couldn’t be. Amorpho was an excellent shape-shifter, but his tricks, though impressive, could never achieve this kind of perfection. There were subtle flaws that gave his illusions away when you knew what to look for. The eyes, in particular. The aura. And small details, like body stance and posture.

This impostor was on a different level. Phantom’s likeness had been replicated with unparalleled precision. It was alarming, but Danny could already feel his initial amazement souring into annoyance. He had enough problems as it was. Frankly, he could have done without yet another addition to the growing collection of weirdos bent on ruining his life.

"It was that ghost from the other day," Danny lamented, trailing into the kitchen after Vlad. "The one from the jewelry store in the mall. See? I told you! There's a new crazy in town who takes my appearance to fuck with me."

"Language," Vlad scolded him mechanically.

Vlad placed the dessert on the kitchen table before turning his attention to the glistening puddle of green ectoplasm on the floor. Maddie had certainly not missed her target. Despite himself, Danny couldn’t help but feel a hint of vindictive satisfaction as he imagined the burning pain this new enemy must have been experiencing right about now. He had been on the receiving end of an ecto-gun enough times to be acutely aware of how painful and slow these wounds were to heal.

A shattered teapot lay on the counter, and the extractor hood above the stove had also taken a bad hit in the heat of the moment. The metal had melted in several places and it probably would need to be replaced altogether. Danny crossed his arms over his chest and heaved a soul-weary sigh. Vlad ignored him, still examining the ectoplasm on the floor. Just as Danny was about to ask him about his theories on the whole thing, Jack and Maddie's footsteps echoed once more.

"Everything okay, Danny, Vlad?" Maddie asked. She pushed back her hood and shook her head to free her hair. "Are you all right? I hope you weren’t too frightened."

"Don't worry, we've secured the perimeter!" Jack boomed.

"Did you, uh... did you catch him?" Danny asked as Jack holstered his weapons.

"Unfortunately not," Jack pouted. "He didn’t stick around."

"I'm sure you'll catch him, eventually," Vlad said.

Jack lit up at these words, impervious to the sarcasm laced in Vlad’s tone. With a loud exclamation of agreement, he slapped his best friend on the back.

"You got that right, V-man! We’ll catch him next time! Now, who wants cake?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Back to School

"Get lost, Phantom! Quit haunting Amity Park!"

"Go back to where you came from!"

"Thief! Rascal! Scoundrel!"

An old lady rummaged through her granny shopping cart and began hurling eggs at Danny, cursing him with colorful expletives. Though the projectiles passed through his intangible body, the insults and jeers still hurt.

"It wasn't me! I told you," he said again to the small crowd, sparking a new round of booing.

He might as well have been talking to a wall. Oh, he bet Vlad would have loved to see that pitiful spectacle. With a frustrated huff, he deftly dodged a tomato before soaring up into the sky, turning a deaf ear to the disapproving cries below. It was the third time this week. The third time!

The whole thing was a total media disaster. Phantom had finally revealed his true colors, was what the news said. He was now branded a thief, a common criminal. Vlad's election campaign, heavily focused on ghost insecurity, hadn’t done him any favors either, and suddenly, nobody seemed particularly interested in hearing what Phantom had to say for himself.

It stung. And it was getting old. If he ever laid hands on that stupid doppelgänger.... they were way overdue for a little chat face-to-face. He hadn’t caught sight of the other ghost boy ever since, though.

He was still mulling over these bitter thoughts when he landed in the alley adjacent to Fenton Works. A flash later, Fenton, hands in pockets and a sullen look on his face, emerged from behind the dumpster.

No point dwelling on it. He was just wasting time, a luxury he could no longer afford. He had more important things to focus on at the moment. If he didn't want to blow his last chance, he needed to catch up on his academic reading as soon as possible. The week had flown by, and the second term was set to begin in two days. Tomorrow already, he'd be heading back to Madison.

He pushed open the front door of the house, kicked off his sneakers in the general direction of the shoe rack, and hollered:

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

From the living room, Jack and Maddie's voices greeted him back. Danny walked further in and peered through the ajar door. They hadn't moved an inch since he'd left the house several hours ago. Both were hunched over their laptop, closely scanning its screen, Maddie looking serious and Jack utterly bemused.

Earlier that morning, they had received another letter from the Patent Office, and its contents had hit them like a bombshell. His mom had glossed over the details, and she had been quick to assure him that, really, it was no big deal, and that his only concern should be classes and coursework.

But Danny wasn’t fooled, he wasn’t blind. His parents' worry was palpable, and if he had read between the lines correctly, this was no minor administrative blunder: his parents had been blindsided. Essentially, the Office was ordering Fenton Works to cease the use and sale of any equipment employing 'ecto-etheric frequency transfer for spectral resonance fields' technology —so, in other words, nearly all of their newest ecto-defensive inventions.

The notice had been issued because, as it turned out, a patent for this exact piece of technology already existed, filed three months prior by another party. And since patenting something already claimed was obviously illegal, it put them at risk of perjury and federal fraud, no less.

Clearly, someone had played a dirty trick on them. Who? They had no clue. It led to another significant problem too: the entire town of Amity Park had been supplied with the latest equipment. But if Fenton Works no longer held the commercial rights...

Needless to say, tension hung thick in the air.

Danny tiptoed back to his room, where his textbooks awaited him. Between his parents' anxiety, the Phantom impostor, and the impending stress of a new term, it felt like a heavy cloud loomed over his head.

Going back to school proved to be a welcome distraction, if nothing else. The second semester kicked off with a bang, and he was glad he had taken the time to catch up on his readings and coursework. Throughout the week, teachers mercilessly doled out assignments in spades, like lousy belated Christmas gifts.

Before long, Danny found himself with a presentation on the properties of complex numbers to submit, three chapters of 'Newtonian Mechanics' to summarize for his Dynamics module, and a calculation using the Lorentz transformation formula to complete. Hours of work ahead, but for once, the prospect wasn’t quite as daunting. This time, he had a plan.

By Friday, a tingling sensation had spread through his limbs, and the back of his brain had started to itch with a now-familiar need. The end of the day came with a relief that wasn't solely due to the end of classes. Danny hurried back to his dorm room to gather his things and, backpack slung over one shoulder, he went ghost before rising into the air, invisible.

A contented sigh escaped his lips, as he was finally free from gravity’s pull. Sometimes, he ended up feeling constricted when he didn’t transform for extended periods; as if his human body couldn't quite contain him, stretched too tight.

Gliding gracefully across the sky, he set off. Vlad's castle was located in the countryside, away from the city and prying eyes, but flying there was a relatively short trip, and he had no trouble finding his way, guided by the course of the Mississippi River.

The place hadn't changed. It was the same massive castle, adorned with flags and countless towers. A giant made of stone and steel. Danny had a fleeting vision of the Ghost Assault Vehicle parked in front of the main door, his dad bouncing up and down, while he, just a young teen, stared at the building and whispered to his sister: ‘Dad's old college pal is loaded?!’ A faint smile played on his lips. Was it nostalgia? Then he remembered the ecto-crate Vlad had trapped him in, and he snorted derisively. Right, not a chance.

He phased through the front and set out to explore, trying to recall how to get to the lab. The place seemed somehow even larger from the inside than the exterior suggested. It was obvious that no one had lived here for quite some time. A solemn stillness hung over the many rooms. The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the windows, caressing the massive furniture with their dark, wiry fingers. All was silent, paralyzed. Eerie. Like a haunted castle. The thought made him chuckle.

He eventually found the lab, which had also been deserted. The workstations lay bare, the computers were switched off. Only the faint hum of the portal disrupted the otherwise complete silence. He hovered closer and pushed the button. Immediately, the doors opened with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the mesmerizing vortex concealed within. Standing in the shadows, Danny's eyes momentarily lost themselves in the beauty of the emerald and silver swirls. Then, with nimble grace, he leaped through.

It was exhilarating. The Zone's ectoplasm-laden atmosphere electrified his senses. While he usually thought of the world of the living as his world, in these moments, it was clear that the Zone belonged to him too, and that he equally belonged to it in return. This place recognized him and welcomed him into its cold, barren arms, like a mother embraces her child. Danny delighted in floating through this boundless expanse, and he whistled a few nonsensical notes as he soaked up the rich, invigorating ectoplasm, feeling relaxed and content.

The Zone was so vast that it was rumored to be infinite; not even the most ancient ghosts could claim to have seen its every corner. Danny took a moment to take in his surroundings. Earlier that week, Vlad had sent him directions on the most efficient flight route between his two portals, and while Danny wasn’t entirely familiar with this part of the Zone, he was able to recognize a few features in the landscape. There, a grand door framed with gemstones marked the domain of the ghost of a reclusive banker. Farther down, an island with palm trees and a crimson lake, where mermaids frolicked and lounged.

Navigating the Zone could be confusing. Although Danny was no stranger to its eccentricities, its maddening layout regularly continued to blow his mind. Its non-Euclidean geometry paid no heed to the physical laws of the living world, and constantly warped, bent and twisted the fabric of reality within this horizon-less universe.

Things that appeared nearby could turn out to be hours away, or vice versa, depending on the path taken. In the past, he had sometimes stumbled upon unexpected shortcuts. At the bend of a gate in the midst of a flowery desert, he remembered spotting a volcano supposedly miles away, but when he had retraced his steps, the desert had vanished, replaced by schools of silver sardines shimmering in the void. It was all too easy to become lost for hours, days, months here —a non-issue for the Zone's more permanent residents.

Danny was confident he was on the right path, when his attention was drawn to a house floating on his right. It was a neo-Gothic structure, tall and narrow, with a pointed roof that loomed over its surroundings. Its dark facade boasted numerous windows, their curtains drawn like veiled eyes, and at the very top, purple plumes lazily swirled behind a wide circular aperture.

This was Amorpho's domain, he realized —unexpected, but timely. After a brief moment of hesitation, he approached the front door and tapped the knocker shaped like an Venetian mask. Instantly, the purple flames in the wrought-iron lanterns flared, and the door swung open, seemingly moved by its own volition.

Cautiously, he floated inside and inspected the entrance hall. Countless Phantoms stared back at him. The walls were lined with mirrors, forming a mosaic of reflections that stretched into infinite galleries. In some, his silhouette was blurred or distorted. In others, he looked younger, thinner or paler. He startled when a nasal voice broke the silence:

"Phantom!"

Dressed in his usual black and red trench coat stood Amorpho, his eyes curious behind tinted glasses.

"Hey Amorpho. Long time, yeah?"

Amorpho politely tilted the brim of his broad hat.

"It has been a while, indeed. Cup of tea?"

Danny’s smile turned into a wince. If the rest of the house was like the entrance hall, it was a hard pass from him. The thought of a little tea party with thousands of Dannys and Amorphos staring at them from endless corridors gave him the heebie-jeebies.

"Uh, no thanks, I’m good. I'm just passing through, I'm in a bit of a hurry. I've got to get to Plasmius’s; he's waiting for me."

"Plasmius?" Amorpho repeated. "I thought you two were enemies?"

"Well, it's complicated. I'm staying at his place on weekends at the moment, to, uh...— Anyway, I just had a couple of questions for you. Do you..." He hesitated. He hadn't thought this through and needed to come up with a way to phrase his question without sounding insulting. "You can shapeshift into anybody; do you know if it's... um... I wouldn’t say common, but do you know any other ghosts with this power?"

Amorpho adjusted his tie, a pinched expression on his gray face.

"I've yet to meet another ghost as talented as I am in this specific skill."

"Ah, I thought maybe... So, here’s the deal, there's a ghost in Amity that has been taking on my appearance."

If Danny had had any lingering suspicions about Amorpho's innocence, the shock on his features would have dispelled them.

"What!"

"I've only seen the guy twice. Well, only once, if you discount the time I saw him on TV. And it only lasted for like a second, but... He was a dead ringer for me, it was insane. Super impressive."

"More impressive than when I do it?"

His tone carried a touch of defensiveness. Like many ghosts, he took pride in his powers and unique abilities. Amorpho wasn't exactly a friend, but they were on good terms and Danny didn't want to risk offending him.

"I mean, probably not, but like I said, I only saw him for a second, so it was a bit hard to tell. What I mean is that it was very convincing."

He kept his true opinion to himself. Nonetheless, Amorpho still seemed to sense that he was downplaying it, and his curiosity was obviously piqued as he mused:

"I wonder who it could be…"

"Yeah, I was hoping you’d have an idea?"

"Perhaps a newcomer... with powers similar to mine. That would be quite interesting." His tone, however, suggested that he didn't find the idea interesting at all, but rather revolting. "I would like to meet him."

Danny shrugged.

"Last I saw him was in Amity Park about two weeks ago. I've looked for him everywhere, but there’s been no sign of him since then. Then again, if he's like you and can pretend to be someone else…"

"If you grant me passage into Amity Park, I'd like to conduct my own investigation. I believe I can spot another shapeshifter and I would like to test how our abilities compare."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright!. Sounds good."

The request was odd but not unwelcome —Danny wasn't used to granting rights of way, given that ghosts usually just helped themselves regardless.

A few minutes later, he left. As he soared back into the dark depths of the Zone, he wondered if talking to Amorpho had been the right move, after all. What would Amorpho do if he found the other shapeshifter? If the two decided to duel or something equally dramatic, Danny hoped it wouldn't happen in Amity Park. He already had enough problems without another—

"OOW!"

Lost in thought, he narrowly avoided colliding with a ghost floating in his path, and had to leap sideways to avoid impact. He stopped and turned around to offer an apology.

"I’m sorry, I...—Oh!" He recognized the other ghost. "Princess Dora! It’s you!"

"Sir Phantom!", the maiden exclaimed, her hand delicately placed on her chest. "You startled me! What foul creature pursues you, compelling such haste?"

"Oh, uh, nobody. Sorry, my head was in the clouds."

He gave her a sheepish smile and Dora laughed, her scare all but forgotten.

"You never change, Sir Phantom. And where are you bound in such manner?"

"I'm looking for Vlad's portal, it's... this way, right?"

"Yes, you will see it after that big jellyfish," she said, pointing to a massive aquatic creature swaying lazily below. "Just to the left of the icicle cavern. Be cautious, for the bats dwelling therein are incorrigible rogues."

"Thanks, Dora. How about you, what are you doing here? You’re far from home, aren't you?"

She nodded and her gaze dropped.

"I have lost my necklace, and I'm searching for it everywhere."

Danny noticed that her neckline was indeed bare. The jewel she typically wore, the powerful amulet that transformed her into a dragon depending on her mood, was missing.

"Any idea where you could have lost it?"

Dora appeared embarrassed, twirling the end of her braid around her finger.

"Perchance, I may have dropped it… um, last time."

Ah. Her awkwardness suddenly made sense.

Dora's brother, Aragon, was a cruel ghost, who enjoyed tormenting his sister more often than not. A few weeks earlier, he had pestered her so relentlessly that their quarrel had escalated into a full-blown dragon fight. And it was just Danny’s luck that the battle had somehow found its way to Amity Park.

The two dragons were formidable opponents, and Dora lost all control when she was in this form. Danny had intervened and done his best to stop them, but as usual, the media had been quick to point fingers at him for the ensuing destruction. Since then, Dora had repeatedly apologized for invading and destroying what she knew to be his territory. Though Danny had assured her that all was forgiven, she still obviously felt guilty.

"If I ever find it in Amity Park, I'll bring it back to you," he promised gently.

She looked up, a glimmer of hope in her ruby eyes.

"Oh, thank you, Sir Phantom. I am unworthy of such benevolence; you are a noble spirit and a true gentleman!"

He smiled. Her quaint expressions always made him feel like a character in one of Lancer’s old plays. With a friendly wave, he bid her farewell and resumed his journey.

He and Vlad hadn't set a specific time, but for once, he didn't want to risk showing up late and pissing him off before their agreement could even begin. Four years of intense rivalry couldn't be wiped away with a simple handshake, and their history was nothing short of explosive. Danny wanted to try and get off on the right foot as much as possible, because he had a strong hunch this cohabitation was going to put their patience to the test.

He found the portal easily. It was located around the bend of a cavern filled with winged creatures that eyed him warily as he passed. He punched in the code provided by Vlad, placed his hand on the ectosignature scanner, and the doors whooshed open. He stepped through the paradimensional tear.

On the other side was Vlad's lab, similar to the one in Wisconsin, albeit smaller. Vlad had evidently granted him clearance, as no alarm blared upon his arrival. Danny closed the portal behind him before taking a better look at the place.

Unlike Vlad’s other lab, this one bore signs of recent use. The area was brightly lit and permeated by the sterile scent of antiseptic. Laboratory glassware was meticulously arranged on shelves, and a few experiments were in progress. Viscous, fluorescent substances glowed in a few beakers, while a separating funnel dripped steadily into an Erlenmeyer flask. A large refrigerator with transparent doors displayed assorted boxes and carefully labeled test tubes. On a nearby table, Danny recognized an ectograph, a machine his parents had invented to convert ectoplasmic waves into frequencies.

The place reminded him of Fenton Works, despite their fundamental differences. Danny had to give him that, Vlad exhibited much greater care for his workspace than his parents ever had. Now that he thought about it, seeing a lab with such pristine worktops, walls free of scorch marks, and a general absence of things on the brink of explosion might have been a first for him.

He took a few steps forward and noticed a broad glass partition wall farther ahead. As he drew nearer, he realized that the lab overlooked a wide room that resembled a cross between a gym and a military training facility. Its walls had a sleek sheen, as if covered with some kind of metal panels, while the floor appeared to be made of dark stone. Granite, maybe? Danny let out a low, appreciative whistle, feeling just a twinge of envy. Must be nice to be rich. The best training equipment he’d ever got his hands on were some old boxing bags from school —and even those he had to give up the day he'd realized he could punch through concrete with his bare hands. Would Vlad let him use this space if he asked?

He flew up into the air and crossed the ceiling.

"Good evening, Daniel."

Danny startled even as he finished phasing up through the floor, finding himself in a spacious living room. Vlad sat at the table, a laptop open in front of him, his attention on Danny. Once his feet touched the floor, Danny reverted to his human form.

Here went nothing. Hopefully, this whole thing wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass.

He offered an awkward hand wave.

"Hi."

Was this weird? Why, yes. Yes, it was.

"Don't act shy. I know you've been in my house before."

"Yeah, but…"

"Never as an invited guest?"

"Uh…"

Before Danny could answer anything, a voice from his right interrupted them:

"Excellent! Just in time for dinner."

Danny whirled around, and…—

Vlad?

A Plasmius duplicate had popped his head through the doorway, sporting a kitchen apron over his white attire. He then proceeded to wag a wooden spoon towards the other Vlad.

"And you, you should take a break from work," he scolded.

"Go away," grumbled the other Vlad.

The Plasmius cook rolled his eyes before retreating back to where he had come from —the kitchen, presumably—, while the Vlad in the living room muttered something rude under his breath. Danny stared at the door, baffled.

"Is talking and arguing with yourself something you do often?" he asked.

Because that certainly explained a few things.

Dinner turned out to be surprisingly pleasant and easy. In an unspoken agreement, they had both decided to steer clear from sensitive topics and had set aside the usual provocations in an attempt to have a more, well... normal conversation. Vlad asked about school, Danny talked about his homework. He was reminded that Vlad was a scientist too, not only well-versed in parascience and chemistry, but he was also an accomplished physicist. When Vlad suggested a few relevant books from his personal library to support Danny’s presentation research, he found himself genuinely interested in the recommendations.

As the meal neared its end, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to the other shared aspect of their existence. Danny recounted his encounter with Amorpho earlier that evening, and since Vlad had never met him, Danny shared a few of the funnier anecdotes from their very first meeting, years ago, when the shapeshifter had wreaked havoc at his school.

It was strangely freeing. For the first time in months, Danny felt he could talk without constant self-awareness, or the need to hide half of himself. After dinner concluded and the conversation tapered off, Vlad guided him upstairs to his room.

"I hope you’ll find it to your liking," he said as he opened the door.

"Are you kidding?"

While Vlad’s castle in Wisconsin had always given off strong Dracula vibes, this house was thankfully much more contemporary, and this bedroom was big, warm and welcoming. It felt like a five-star hotel room. Or so Danny guessed; he had never actually stayed at one of those.

He immediately noticed the wide, ultra-slim TV screen mounted opposite the bed —the kind that would make Tucker drool— and the en-suite bathroom visible through a half-open door. A sleek desk stood by a large window overlooking the garden, dark at this hour of the evening, but illuminated by small electric lanterns along the pathways.

Danny dropped his bag onto the floor by the bed, then flopped onto it, sprawled on his back, before wiggling his arms and legs as if making a snow angel. The bedspread was incredibly soft —satin, or silk? Whatever it was, the material felt heavenly, the mattress plush, and he was certain he'd never laid on a bed so divine.

After a moment, he sat back up, his leg bouncing against the edge of the bed frame. Despite the late hour, he felt restless. It could only mean one thing, and he couldn't wait to get going. Vlad seemed to pick up on this, but before leaving the room, he adopted a serious expression and said:

"I know it would be pointless to ask you not to stick your nose all over this house."

"Hey!" Danny protested, frowning in mock offense. He pretended to think before relenting, "Nevermind, you're probably right.".

Vlad ignored the interruption:

"So I won't ask you to. However, there are certain boundaries I would appreciate you respecting. My own bedroom, naturally, as well as my lab."

"Uh, but you know your portal's in your lab, right? How am I supposed to come?"

"Of course. You can come and go to use the portal, but that's it. Don't touch anything. Don’t snoop."

"Okay, okay, sheesh..."

Danny couldn't fully suppress the defiant green sparkle in his eye, more out of habit than real challenge. Vlad's little experiments didn't interest him, and certainly not enough to jeopardize their deal. Besides, between his homework and patrolling around town, he doubted he’d have time for anything else.

Once Vlad finally left, Danny's gaze immediately shifted to the window. An icy energy pulsed through his veins. He had missed Amity Park.

As he became Phantom, the peculiar tingle that had buzzed against his aura since his arrival grew stronger. Instinctively, he knew what the sensation was —an alert that he stood in territory haunted by another. Vlad must have felt the same thing every time he visited Fenton Works. He often took great pleasure in barging in unannounced and unceremoniously spreading his aura all over the place. Danny could see why; it was kind of tempting.

Without waiting any longer, he set off into the dark night. Throughout the evening, as he carried out his patrol, he found himself thinking with a light heart, that maybe, just maybe, the wheel had finally turned in his favor.

The weekend went by without a hitch. Weird, yes, but it was the truth. Danny managed to finish his homework and even had time to read 'General and Cosmological Relativity', a book he had found in Vlad’s library. Nothing major came in the way of his patrols, and the routine of his nightly outings was only interrupted once by a ghost gorilla at the local zoo.

Incidentally, these few days also offered an unexpected glimpse into a side of Vlad that Danny had never seen before. Though they had known each other for years, it was one thing to banter around and ectoblast each other in the face, and quite another to share a living space. On top of that, he somehow hadn’t been quite prepared for what should have been obvious: for the first time in his life, he was living with someone like himself.

This realization proved both a surprise and an eye-opener for Danny. Vlad had been a half-ghost for decades, and unlike Danny, he had never had the slightest need to hide what he was within the confines of his own home. This peace of mind manifested in a pronounced tendency to use his powers for the most mundane purposes —a snap of his fingers ignited the fireplace, objects levitated to him, and he also had the annoying habit of teleporting around at every conceivable moment.

"Don’t you ever worry you might slip up one day and forget you're not at home?" Danny asked him one afternoon in the kitchen, where he had come to get a drink.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you’re at work, with people, and you just walk through a door, or something?"

Danny nodded toward Vlad, who lowered his gaze to his arm, phased deep into a cupboard as he pulled out an espresso cup.

"No. Is that something you struggle with?"

A smug smile formed on his lips. Danny cut short the impending comment about his youth and lack of experience:

"No. It's just that, generally, I don't use my powers like…"

He waved his hands vaguely towards the cupboard, Vlad and his coffee cup.

"What? The great Danny Phantom only uses his powers for good, is that it?" Vlad scoffed.

Danny rolled his eyes. Yeah, good one. Vlad had no idea. He wasn't proud of it, but when he'd discovered he could turn invisible, one of his first moves had been to sneak into the girls' locker room. He'd had his powers at fourteen! So of course he had always used them excessively and with a total lack of self control. That wasn't the point.

"It’s not what I’m saying. It's just that...". He trailed off, searching for words to articulate a sentiment he couldn’t quite grasp. "Nevermind, forget it."

Something that Danny would have been hard-pressed to define flickered in Vlad’s eyes. He must have understood more than he let on because as he turned his attention back to the coffee machine that had just finished brewing, he said:

"You don't have to hide or pretend here."

Danny’s eyes dropped to the soda bottle in his hand, his head tilting slightly. A thin layer of frost crept around it. He took a sip, then left the kitchen.

They didn't fight once, and Vlad even went as far as refraining from his usual jabs at Jack. In return, Danny tried his best to be an exemplary guest. This resolve, however, was put to the test towards the end of the weekend.

Vlad had left his laptop on the dining room table, open and unlocked. All by itself. Whether out of instinct or force of habit, the temptation to have a look quickly became irresistible. What if Vlad’s apparent good behavior was all an act to hide some secret scheme? What harm could there be in taking a quick peek? Danny tiptoped closer. An email inbox. He furtively scanned his surroundings to double check he was truly alone, then leaned in and began clicking around.

The emails didn’t reveal any diabolical plots, though there was a certain infernal quality to them: committee reports, urgent requests, complaints, and an unending stream of ‘friendly reminders’ that started with ‘following up on my previous message…’.

POOF!

"Please, Daniel. Don't stop on my account".

Vlad had just appeared right next to him and Danny immediately straightened up. Their gaze met, and Danny managed a forced smile.

"Hey! I was curious about your work, and it's... uh, it’s interesting."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you find city council minutes the epitome of excitement."

Danny stepped aside to allow him to pass and reclaim his seat. Vlad lightly dusted off his suit jacket, before refocusing the screen, seemingly determined to ignore his presence. Soon, the clicking of the keyboard and the intermittent crackling of the fire in the fireplace were the only sounds breaking the silence. Feeling a little guilty, Danny stood there awkwardly, somehow inexplicably annoyed by the sudden silent treatment.

"Whatever. It looked kinda boring, actually."

"These are adult job responsibilities. I wouldn’t expect you to understand."

"Pff, yeah, alright..." Fine, he'd stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, but Vlad didn’t need to be such a jerk. In a last-ditch attempt at reconciliation, he continued, feigning polite interest: "Do you often need to work on Sundays?"

Probably; evil never slept after all. He bit his tongue. Vlad finally tore his gaze from the screen. He pushed his chair slightly back and looked up to consider him. His eyes had taken a kind of intensity that Danny had learned to be wary of. He couldn’t help but swallow nervously.

"I do actually," Vlad said. "The town has been giving me the runaround lately. There's been an increasing amount of destruction, a lot of damage to deal with. More so than usual."

"Oh yeah?"

"Hmhm," Vlad nodded. "There’s been a clear statistical spike in ghost attacks since September."

In other words, right around the time Danny had left for college. He felt his heart sink at the thought that, despite his best efforts, he could no longer ensure Amity Park’s safety.

"Your frequent absences have paved the way for newcomers and competition." Vlad remarked casually, watching him over his clasped hands, fingertips touching. "Your territorial claim on the city has weakened."

No! A sharp pang of panic twisted into his gut as a chill ran down his spine. He would have felt it. This couldn't be right. Amity was still his.

Vlad continued to scrutinize him, and Danny suddenly noticed the sly satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. The anxiety lifted almost instantly, and he clenched his teeth and fists. He'd been played.

"You bastard! You can't do that! It's not—"

"What? Not fair?"

Precisely. For Vlad to exploit his obsession to manipulate him like this, so soon after he'd poured his heart out to him just a few weeks earlier, felt especially treacherous and cruel.

"You said you wouldn't use this against me," he reminded him bitterly.

"Hmm, true. You're right, little badger. I guess I couldn't resist. Much like you with my computer."

Ha, what else was new? When it came to dishing out petty revenge, you could always count on Vlad. Clearly put out, Danny didn’t feel like letting himself get pushed around. There was one topic of conversation Vlad had been all too happy to brush aside. And he was no longer in the mood to give him that courtesy.

"Whatever, that was low. I've been open, told you pretty much everything, and you’ve given nothing in return."

"I invited you to stay, to help you."

"And yourself," Danny shrugged. It wasn’t even a jab. He knew how Vlad worked. "Don’t pretend. You’ve already admitted why you wanted me here."

Vlad's smug smile faded and he subtly tensed against the back of his chair. Danny knew he was treading close to dangerous territory.

"It's personal."

"Oh right, and it isn’t for me, maybe? Come on, after all it involves me, doesn’t it?"

Vlad shot him a menacing glare designed to intimidate him, but Danny stood his ground and crossed his arms, unfazed. He didn't even feel bad about forcing Vlad to retreat behind his threatening facade. He had a right to know, and after the little stunt he'd just pulled on him, turnabout was fair play. A prolonged silence lingered in the air as they stared each other down, and eventually, Vlad let out a deep sigh. Danny fought to keep any hint of the victory he felt showing on his face.

"What is it that you want to know, exactly?"

In a swift motion, he closed his laptop, seemingly coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn't be accomplishing any more work that night. Danny moved closer to the fireplace where magenta flames danced, and settled onto the leather footstool in a comfortable cross-legged position. He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin against a closed fist.

"So. You're a billionaire."

"Multibillionaire. I’m aware, thank you."

"Aren't there, like, loads of people who’d want to marry you? And kids to adopt? You could have a family by tomorrow, if you wanted.

"It doesn't work like that."

He deflated a bit before changing his angle:

"Okay. So why me?"

"We are the same."

Danny suppressed a grimace. It was both kind of true and most definitely false. He hesitated before finally biting the bullet:

"So, not because... I'm Maddie's son?

"It used to be my main motivation, I won’t deny it."

Something felt off, Danny realized. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but—

"How are you so chill right now?"

In the past, the mere mention of Maddie’s name had always been enough to trigger frenzied monologues about his plans to get rid of Jack and win over his mom. Though Vlad obsessed about the idea of having a family, Maddie Fenton, in particular, had always been right in the eye of the storm.

"Maddie holds a special place in my heart, and always will. However, these days, I find myself more lucid; less... infatuated."

Obsessed, Danny mentally corrected. But for Vlad, too, it seemed difficult to admit out loud.

"Alright, I’ll bite," Danny said. "So what’s changed, then?"

"Let me ask you, Daniel," he replied after a moment's silence. "Didn't you anticipate the challenges you'd face when you first left Amity Park for college?"

The sudden shift in topic caught Danny off guard and he considered steering the conversation back on track, but Vlad looked unusually serious. The answer to that question was embarrassing, but that ship had kind of sailed.

"No, I didn’t. To be honest, I had no idea. I'd never left Amity Park for long periods since my accident. I think Sam and Tucker suspected something was up, but I never took their concerns seriously. I really didn’t think that...—I mean, it wasn't like I was shouting from the rooftops that I loved hoarding boxes, or that I went nuts if I didn’t like the cafeteria food, y’know?"

Danny gave a dry, humorless chuckle. Sure, his situation was just a bit more manageable; at least he could keep it under control, most of the time.

"Of course, once I left, I got a reality check real fast." He then raised his chin and gave him a defiant look. "Yeah, I know. I was delusional. So go ahead, you can make fun of me all you want."

But for once, there was no hint of contempt on Vlad's face.

"It wasn’t my intention. I simply wanted to point out the similarities in our situations." He paused once more. Danny held his breath. "I began to realize the disproportionate space Maddie was occupying in my... thoughts, about two years ago."

"Only two years ago? Seriously?"

Danny could hardly hide how baffling that was, and Vlad did bristle this time. A bitter edge seeped into his voice:

"One tends to overlook things otherwise obvious to outsiders."

He was right, Danny would have been a hypocrite to deny it. That was how obsessions worked. Their hold was so insidious that the one ensnared lost the ability to take a step back to recognize their influence. Incongruities and aberrations committed in their names were systematically justified, rationalized.

"So…. how did you manage to ignore it?

"Ignore it? You can’t, as I told you before," Vlad said, looking tired. "I've done many things over the years, some of which I'm not proud of."

Danny stared at him, feeling almost entranced. Where was the usual facade? The sarcasm, the tricks, the pretenses?

"You've already seen the Maddie hologram," Vlad said, his gaze wandering into the distance. "It goes beyond that, of course. There was a time when I seriously contemplated cloning you, for instance."

The way he spoke could almost be described as detached, as if the admission was mundane. Sometimes I take sugar with my coffee. Sometimes I clone people. Noticing the horror on his face, Vlad raised an eyebrow:

"I never went through with it."

It wasn't all that reassuring, and suddenly, Danny wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear about all the other crazy ideas that had crossed his mind. His expression must have betrayed his unease, because Vlad smiled darkly:

"You'd probably start entertaining a few wild ideas yourself if circumstances kept you away from Amity Park for too long."

Danny shivered despite himself. Not just at the suggestion, but mostly because he suspected it was true. He was almost starting to regret insisting on having this conversation. The whole thing was downright depressing.

"To come back to your initial question, I simply aim to make the best of the hand I’ve been dealt. Considering the factors tied to your own predicament, this agreement provided me with an opportunity to explore an alternative and healthier approach, if I may say so."

Danny nodded, his eyes unfocused, still fixed on Vlad but without truly seeing him anymore. In short, they were both screwed. In the fireplace, the fire continued to crackle, casting crimson reflections on the walls.

"Chin up, little badger." Vlad’s tone had regained some levity and he sounded mildly amused. He had been a half-ghost for over twenty years, Danny reminded himself. "It is a lot to take in, but you still have time. You'll eventually manage to figure out a long-term solution."

Vlad was right, Danny reflected as he coasted through a current of ether that meandered across this part of the Zone.

The weekend was coming to a close, and Danny had once again gone through the portal to fly back to Wisconsin. The past couple of days had exceeded his expectations, so much so that he had decided to leave his backpack behind for the following Friday.

His conversation with Vlad kept replaying in his mind and had led him into deep reflection. What was the point of wallowing in self-pity or ruminating over what-ifs and if onlys? The truth was, if he wanted to have a shot at a more or less normal life —kind of a stretch, admittedly—, then he needed to take action. He had to figure out a long-term game plan.

While this arrangement with Vlad certainly fixed things up for the time being, relying on his portals for weekly commutes wasn’t a sustainable workaround. What would happen the day he’d get his first job, perhaps in another state? Or what if he got into yet another fight with Vlad, which was bound to happen sooner or later. And what about his dream of joining NASA? What then, whispered a small, desperate voice in his head.

In theory, he knew a solution —simple yet difficult : mastering the art of creating natural portals. It was a complex exercise. Few ghosts had the ability or the necessary skills, but if he could create portals on demand, popping over to Amity whenever the need arose would be a breeze. It was the perfect solution to his problem. However, and though this all sounded great, Danny was painfully aware that aside from a few sad sparks, he had never succeeded in forming even the tiniest interdimensional scratch.

And so, Danny soon found himself immersed in practice, floating on his back and leisurely drifting through the Zone, attempting to create an opening in the dark, nebulous canvas that extended beyond sight. So far, his best attempt had yielded a brief flash of light. It had been short-lived, but he hoped it was a start.

His face wrinkled in concentration as he stretched out his hands in front of him, wiggling his fingers as if to pierce the ghostly fabric of the Zone. To no avail. He didn’t have a clue of how to go about this.

"Yo Phantom! What’cha doing? You sleepwalkin’ or something’?"

Danny turned and let his arms fall to his sides as a sleek metallic shape emerged from the darkness, its engine roaring. Johnny 13 expertly executed a controlled drift, bringing his motorcycle to a stop right beside him.

"Hey, Johnny."

The young biker pushed back his dirty blond hair and flashed him a lopsided grin.

"So, what was that? Some kind of tai chi?"

Danny floated back upright, suddenly very alert as an idea struck him.

"Johnny! You've opened portals to the living world before, right? To Amity Park? I've seen you do it!"

Johnny leaned forward, resting his forearms on the handlebars of his bike. He raised an eyebrow and scrutinized him cautiously.

"Sure, yeah. But listen, if you're still mad about that, I—"

"No, no, I don't care," Danny cut him off. "I just need to know how you do it!"

He instantly eased up.

"Oh, that. Umm, well it’s not like it works every time."

"What do you mean?"

"Eh, I dunno. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don’t. It depends on.. stuff. Like where I am, and how I’m feeling it, I guess."

Danny mulled over this information. This was to be expected; he still had off days where his ice powers failed him too. But if he could grasp this technique, even partially...

"Show me! Where do I start?"

Johnny looked at him, puzzled. Clearly, he hadn't expected this reaction.

"You're such a weird kid, you know that? Hope this isn’t just another way for you to kick me out quicker next time I swing by your town, huh?"

"It’s not," Danny assured, excitement palpable in his voice.

Johnny shrugged and dismounted his bike. He extended a hand, splaying his fingers in front of Danny's face, as if touching an invisible, flat surface.

"You feel that?"

Danny focused intently on the spaces between Johnny's fingers. Soon, he understood. Faint vibrations were stirring the matter around the outstretched hands. He nodded, then raised his own hands, determined to replicate the phenomenon.

For several minutes, Johnny coached him, offering vague yet insightful pieces of advice. Before long, Danny began producing some brief sparks in the black expanse.

"Not bad," Johnny remarked.

"I've never managed to do more than this, though," Danny lamented, glancing down at his gloved hands with frustration.

"Well, it's like I said: it doesn't always work. Try picturing somewhere specific, a place you’re familiar with, it helps."

"A familiar place…"

Amity Park, naturally. Danny shut his eyes tightly and spread his fingers once more, channeling a steady stream of his ecto-energy to their tips. He could feel the ether beneath his palms, the density of the ambient ectoplasm, the subtle magnetic oscillation coursing through the Zone.

"Oh!"

A large circle, stretching at least six feet wide, had just opened up before him. Its edges undulated in the darkness, radiating a luminous green so bright it seemed white. Across its threshold lay the familiar sight of stores, lights, and people. Amity Park.

"Wow!"

Danny floated closer to the opening, instantly recognizing the layout of the shopping mall that spread below. His excitement waned, and he winced. Unknowingly, he'd chosen the worst place to appear. People started to take notice of him, pointing in his direction and shouting things he couldn't quite make out. They must have mistaken him for the other guy, back for trouble.

Just as he opened his mouth to reassure them, his portal snapped shut while he was still halfway through it, with a resounding bang. The force of the impact propelled him backwards and he yelled, sucked into the Zone and flung back like a cannonball. After a series of inelegant rolls and tumbles, he managed to regain his balance. He shook his head to collect himself, while Johnny hooted with laughter, hunched over on his motorcycle.

"What happened?" Danny stammered, a little shaken.

"You lost control," Johnny replied once his laughter subsided, a hand clasped over his stomach, as if struggling to catch his breath. "It happens. You should give it another try, come on. Don't throw in the towel so soon."

Judging by the glint in his eye, it was obvious he anticipated another mishap. Danny pouted. He had no doubt that in a few hours, the entire population of the Zone would hear about this.

"I think I’ll call it a day."

"Suit yourself, Phantom."

Johnny snapped his fingers, sending a quick zap of ecto-energy that reignited his motorcycle. He twisted the throttle to rev the engine, then raised two fingers in salute before vanishing through the black and emerald wisps of the Zone.

Alone and free from Johnny's sniggering, Danny contemplated giving it another shot. It had been far from a total success, but despite the imperfect outcome, he'd managed to create a portal. He felt a bit dizzy, though, and wasn't sure he'd be able to pull it off again. Ultimately, he decided to call it quits for now and set off.

He had just remembered he had a math exam in the morning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Second Weekend

From Bad to Worse

"Get back! You’re not allowed in there!"

The executive assistant had sprung up from her desk so suddenly that her chair toppled over, clattering loudly on the floor. Seizing the opportunity amidst her frenzied scrambled, Danny rushed down the corridor.

"Where is he?" he asked, the scandalized secretary hot on his heels.

"I've never seen such…—Stop!"

Undeterred, Danny pressed on, but the assistant trailed closely behind. Too closely. It was too late to go invisible. What had he been thinking… waltzing in through the front door like that? The usual way would have been much easier.

"I’m calling security, young man!"

A door swung open.

"Will you keep it down!"

Danny came to an abrupt halt, his eyes immediately locking onto Vlad who looked disgruntled and annoyed at the disruption in his work. Vlad’s gaze first settled on his assistant gasping for breath, before seeing Danny who was glaring daggers.

"Ah."

"Mister Mayor," the employee wheezed, flustered by both the exertion and the absolute gall of the intruder. "This young man stormed in without permission. He insisted on seeing you without an appointment, if you can believe it! I told him—"

Dannt cut her indignant explanation by pointing an accusatory finger at Vlad:

"I know what you did!"

Vlad raised his hands in a wordless request for silence. Danny scowled and the secretary squeaked before snapping her mouth shut.

"Thank you," Vlad said.

"But, sir, I don't think you under—"

"Thank you, Janine." he reiterated more firmly. "That will be all."

The secretary's hair bun seemed to droop in disappointment as Vlad stepped aside to usher Danny into the room. The look she sent his way from over her thin glasses as he entered the office of her esteemed Mister Mayor was possibly colder than the Far Frozen. Tss.

Danny stomped his way in and toward the solid mahogany desk in the center of the room. A small metal plaque on top proudly proclaimed 'Mr. Vlad Masters, Mayor of Amity Park', and he frowned as if the object had personally insulted him.

The door made a soft thud as Vlad closed it. Then a click. It was locked.

Returning to his desk with smooth, elegant strides, Vlad settled into his chair—a luxurious-looking leather throne— seemingly unfazed by the blatant animosity. He met his younger counterpart’s eyes again and held them with a sort of amused irritation dancing right beneath his otherwise nonchalant exterior.

"My assistant is right, Daniel. You should have scheduled an appointment. I'm a busy man, you know."

"You don’t say. I’m sure she has no idea how busy you are, Vlad."

Vlad rolled his eyes and released a long-suffering sigh.

"Alright, then. Here we go. What is it, this time?"

"You know exactly why I'm here!"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Cut the bullshit!"

"Let's see... Is this about Skulker's bear traps?"

"Uh, what? No!"

"Because you should know that I haven't supplied weapons to Skulker in years."

"I don't give a damn about Skulker!" He stomped his foot. "My college dean! Thomas Khang!"

"Ah, that."

Vlad absentmindedly drummed his fingers along the edge of his desk, as if he was rather bored by their conversation. Taken aback by this disregard, Danny opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, until his anger got the better of him:

"Yes, that! You had no right!"

The shadow of a sneer crossed Vlad’s face, and he lifted an eyebrow, seemingly eager for Danny to explain in further details what exactly he had or didn’t have the right to do. He was also clearly enjoying seeing him so agitated, because when he spoke again, he drawled in a way that seemed designed to provoke him further:

"I fail to see the problem, really."

"That's the problem!" Danny burst, throwing his arms up in the air. "You can't just overshadow my college dean to have him take me back! I don’t want you interfering in my studies! Ever! Especially if it’s to pull that kind of crap behind my back!"

Thomas Khang, the Dean of the School of Physics, was both a distinguished researcher and a highly respected doctor. Danny had bumped into him in the Physics building’s common lounge earlier that week, and although he had never chatted with the man in a one-on-one conversation before, he had felt compelled to thank him for the second chance he had given him.

Unfortunately, it had soon become evident that Khang only had a vague grasp of what Danny was referring to. His answers had been hesitant and disjointed. The telltale signs of the mental confusion specific to those who had temporarily lost their free-will through overshadowing had been clear as day. Undoubtedly, Khang’s subconscious was still plagued with lingering after-effects, buried deep within his subconscious. The rest of the puzzle had been all too easy to piece together, and Danny had bided his time until the weekend.

Back in Amity Park that Friday, he had spent about an hour pacing restlessly in Vlad’s living room like a caged animal. Eventually, and because Vlad wasn't coming back, he'd decided to seek him out himself, even if that had meant going to his office at the town hall.

And yet, now that he was here, he wondered why he had even bothered. What had he been expecting? Vlad showed no remorse, no shame. Of course he didn’t! What, had Danny really thought that their recent little heart-to-heart had changed anything? That Vlad had changed? Idiot.

"I've seen your work, Daniel. I know your course’s academic program shouldn’t be too much of a challenge for you. And we both know that the obstacles you faced were beyond your control. If you deserved to be reinstated anyway, what difference does it make?"

Danny was too angry to even take notice of the compliment. He slammed his hand down on the desk:

"The difference is that success means nothing if you cheat for it!"

"Cheat? Our powers make us who we are. What you are! There's nothing wrong with acknowledging that and using them to your benefit."

"But not to overshadow my professors! Accomplishments must be earned! How do you not get that? There are rules! For me and for everyone else!"

This time, Vlad lips curled into a smirk, revealing the sharp tip of a pair of fangs.

"But we are not everyone else. And we stand above the rules."

"You're a complete psycho!," Danny snapped.

His fists had tightened and a faint emerald glow flickered dangerously in the depths of his eyes. He was so angry he wouldn't have been surprised if he had unwittingly transformed into Phantom. Vlad’s expression soured, but his voice remained eerily composed when he spoke again:

"Am I to understand that you're unhappy about being back in college?"

Danny squinted. He knew his methods inside out. Vlad was now going for a bit of his signature emotional manipulation. I only wanted to help you, why aren't you grateful?

His actions were far from altruistic, though: Vlad was always out to help himself. He had calculated his moves to ensure their deal would be sealed; that was all there was to it. Oh, it was quite possible that Vlad actually deluded himself into thinking he had acted to help Danny. Perhaps he genuinely believed that scrambling his teacher’s brains had somehow been for Danny’s own good, and that his reaction was both unjustified and unappreciative. That was the worst thing about Vlad. In the mile-deep ethical and moral abyss from which he viewed the world, the end always justified the means.

"The problem, Daniel," Vlad went on, growing irritated by his lack of response, "is that you're too naive to take what's rightfully yours. You could get as many degrees or phDs as you wish! All you have to do is take, but you're too weak!"

"Right! Because that's how you got rich, isn't it?," Danny retorted, his words dripping with sarcasm. "By overshadowing some poor schmucks so they’d cut you big checks and hand over all their properties! You just helped yourself, didn’t you?"

"Precisely! Maybe you'll understand one day, if you ever cease acting like a child!"

"You're insane!"

"And you're blind! Wake up, Daniel: we are superior, it’s as simple as that!"

"Oh come on, not that bullshit again! I'm not in the mood."

With an exasperated groan, Danny turned into his ghost half. Instinctively, his feet lifted off the ground and his sour mood instantly caused the room’s temperature to drop several degrees. Though Vlad remained seated, his reaction to the hostile aura, now unhindered by any human barrier, was immediate. He stiffened, and a red glint flashed through his eyes like a warning.

Danny ignored him. Going intangible, he phased straight through the window and, without a backward glance, he soared high into the sky. This conversation had been pointless. Worse yet, instead of resolving anything, it had only fueled his anger.

Truth was, he felt disappointed. Which was plain stupid. Had he thought for a second that Vlad would apologize? Fat chance! The fruitloop was more likely to donate his fortune to charity. Vlad didn’t apologize. Vlad demanded and he seized. He had known full well that Danny would never condone his actions, yet instead of asking himself the right questions for once, he had deliberately looked the other way and acted as he deemed most convenient.

Danny sped over Amity Park, occasionally veering wildly to avoid birds. The crisp air hit his face and ruffled his hair but couldn’t clear his mind. Nothing had changed, nothing at all, he reflected bitterly. Vlad would always be the same selfish, manipulative jerk. A little conversation and a few days of polite cohabitation wouldn't change that. He was a certified moron if he had hoped for anything else.

Ruminating over this, he dove headfirst into his evening patrol, scouring every street and rooftop for troublemakers to vent his frustration on. His chance came a few hours later in the form of Skulker. Despite his repeated defeats over the years, the hunter had never given up on his dream to acquire the Ghost Boy’s pelt —a fact for which Danny was particularly grateful as he proceeded to kick his butt once more that evening.

Coincidentally, Vlad's earlier mention of 'bear traps' finally clicked into place when Danny realized that Skulker had equipped himself with new flying mechanical contraptions —some horrifying things that resembled oversized traps with hinges that snapped like hungry piranhas’ jaws. Getting rid of them proved challenging, and though Danny managed to end the fight fairly quickly, local residents still found ways to complain and holler their displeasure at him, annoyed by the deafening clatter the devices produced as they chased after him.

Adding to his foul mood, two GIW agents turned up at the end of the fight. Shaking them off was never too difficult, but the fact that the Ghost Investigation Ward continued to dispatch operatives to Amity Park on a regular basis was annoying —for his parents too, as these government agents had an unfortunate tendency to attempt arresting them for 'obstructing justice' whenever their paths crossed during ghost hunts.

And so, Danny found himself spending much of the evening on edge and on the lookout, battling in turn the ghost of a giant spider weaving its web in the abandoned theater on Winston Street, the ghost of a door-to-door insurance salesman, and a flock of shapeless little will-o'-the-wisps who had claimed to be on a sightseeing tour on the outskirts of town. None of them deserved his wrath if he was being honest, but when Danny threw himself so fully into his need to protect Amity Park, the primal euphoria that came with fulfilling his obsession pushed any moral qualms to the back of his mind, and his general outlook became: fight first, think later.

Hours slipped away, and by the time he finally slowed down, it was well into the night. Reaching the top of the train station’s clock tower, just as it was about to strike two in the morning, he released a sigh and lowered himself to sit on the low wall of the railing. Perched there, he contemplated the city skyline for a moment, absentmindedly bumping his legs against the ledge. He should probably head back and get some sleep.

Out of habit, he took out his cell phone and scrolled through the notifications he had accumulated throughout the evening. Some were from the group chat he shared with Sam and Tucker. Sam had sent a selfie, surrounded by penguins, while Tucker proudly announced he had won his college's hackathon.

Another message was from Jazz.

[Hi little brother! How are you? 😊] -Jazz, 00:10

[How was your first week back!?] -Jazz, 00:10

Danny smiled, and just like that, his mood lifted a little.

                  [Pretty good] -Danny, 01:57

                  [Managed to hand in all my homework on time🙃] -Danny, 01:57

It was late and he hadn't expected her to answer right away; but he was wrong, because his phone buzzed back immediately:

[Well done!!👏 You got this!! ] -Jazz, 01:57

A surge of affection for his sister warmed his chest. He typed a reply before pausing, fingers hovering over the screen. Jazz didn't know about the deal he'd struck with Vlad; he hadn't told her. Should he bring it up? She had never forgiven Vlad for any of the crazy stuff he had put them through over the years. Danny could easily anticipate her reaction: she'd get all worked up and then try to analyze him with her endless psychological mumbo jumbo. With a few taps, he deleted the words he’d started to write, and replaced them with a more benign, innocent reply. What Jazz didn't know couldn't hurt her.

As this thought crossed his mind, he tensed, ectoplasm growing cold. It wasn’t the same! Where had this ridiculous connection come from? This and Vlad’s methods were two very different things. He had always resorted to white lies and little omissions, his actions were nothing like—

But Jazz was messaging him again:

[Did mom and dad tell you about their patent problems?] -Jazz, 01:58

                  [Yeah] -Danny, 01:59

                  [Dad forgot to send a letter or something?] -Danny, 02:00

                  [Mom was freaking out last week] -Danny, 02:00

[Yes, someone patented a part of their own tech] -Jazz, 02:01

[They have no idea who did it] -Jazz, 02:01

[It’s crazy] -Jazz, 02:01

                  [You think it’s that bad?] -Danny, 02:01

[Yeah] -Jazz, 02:02

Danny frowned. Although their parents' issues typically revolved around mechanical problems, they had also had their share of legal troubles over the years. There had been lawsuits due to accidents or faulty machinery on a few occasions. But things had always turned out okay in the end.

                  [How bad?] -Danny, 02:02

[Well, legally, they can’t sell their own inventions anymore. So…] -Jazz, 02:03

                  [But they'll find a way to fix this, right?] -Danny, 02:03

[I called them yesterday] -Jazz, 02:04

[Mom didn’t sound too optimistic] -Jazz, 02:04

                  [Crap] -Danny, 02:05

                  [This sucks] -Danny, 02:05

[Remember my roommate Jenny? The one in law school?] -Jazz, 02:06

[She's going to help me do some research]-Jazz, 02:06

[Anyway, I just wanted to let you know] -Jazz, 02:07

[Hopefully it’ll all work out in the end] -Jazz, 02:07

                  [🤞] -Danny, 02:08

[Good night, little brother] -Jazz, 02:08

                  [Good night] -Danny, 02:09

Danny tucked his phone back in his pocket. While Jazz tended to fret easily, her concerns were often justified. He made a mental note to call his parents soon.

Another glance at the clock informed him that it really was getting late. With a graceful leap, he jumped off, his ethereal form gliding effortlessly in the dark night. Time to go back. To Vlad's. Pff.

Once he got there though, he found the mansion deserted and silent, all lights off. He floated for a few moments in the hallway and the living room, torn between his urge to confront Vlad once more and square things up, and the weariness weighing on his limbs. With a resigned sigh, he decided to spare himself another headache and silently retreated to his room.

The following day, Vlad was still nowhere to be found. Danny had slept in and when he finally went down to the kitchen in the late morning, he found the house as empty as the previous evening. Vlad had most likely gone back to work at the town hall. In his stupid office, with his stupid suit and his stupid little smirk. Ugh! Just thinking about it made him want to punch something. Something Vlad-shaped, preferably.

With a deliberate effort, he pushed the thought aside. Stewing over the same old thoughts all day long wouldn't do him any favors. After a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he went back up to his room to tackle his homework. He managed to make some solid headway, but several hours of relentless integral calculus later, his brain felt like mush threatening to leak out of his ears. He needed a break.

Standing up, he stretched by the window, his back sore from the hours spent slouching in his chair. Outside, the weather was beautiful, the cold winter sun and clear sky calling to him. He emptied his backpack and stuffed in the ugly boots Aunt Alicia had given him for Christmas. She had been kind enough to include the receipt, and Danny was more than happy to swap them for something else —literally anything.

With his backpack slung over his shoulder, he flew to the store, a well-known chain of shoe retailers located in a commercial area. After exchanging the boots for a voucher, he leisurely wandered through the aisles. He was considering a new pair of sneakers, when a familiar figure near the entrance caught his eye:

"Valerie!"

She turned around, sending her long, curly black hair flying behind her. Her eyes scanned the store for a second before lightening up with recognition.

"Hey, Danny! You again?" she exclaimed, stepping closer.

"Yeah, you stalking me or something?" he quipped.

"Ha, funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," she retorted playfully. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be at college?"

"I'm home for the weekend. What about you? You’re not working today?"

Valerie shook her head and her lips formed a thin line.

"No... Actually, I'm looking for a new job, hopefully in retail, still. Gotta keep saving if I ever want to make it to college. I applied to a bunch of openings online, but my dad swears nothing beats handing out resumes in person, like back in the days, or whatever."

With a shrug, she motioned toward the pile of items clutched tightly to her chest. Danny finally noticed her uncharacteristically dull attire: a white shirt paired with a gray tweed blazer —perhaps another suggestion from her dad. She stood slightly hunched over, her arms weighed down by several cardboard folders, a small stack of printed resumes and a tablet. An old backpack, with its bottom gaping open, hung sadly from her shoulder. She must have caught him looking because she quickly explained:

"My bag gave out on the way —it was my old school bag... I’ve been needing to replace it for a while, but ..." She wiggled her burdened arms and let out an embarrassed chuckle, "I’m broke!"

"Oh!" he said simply, then handed her his own backpack. "Here, use this one. You can give it back whenever."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I don't need it; it's empty. Go ahead."

Gratefully, she accepted, promising to return it soon.

"So, you're on the hunt for a new job," Danny said as she packed her belongings and the remnants of her worn-out bag. "Got bored of cosmetics?"

His question had been innocent, but Valerie's face darkened instantly.

"You didn’t see the news? Phantom blew up a section of the mall on Christmas Eve. The store where I worked was right there, and headquarters decided to shut it down until further notice. Everyone got laid off."

"Oh no…"

"Yep, once again, I lose everything because of him!"

"Ah yes, that's really, um…—", Danny trailed off weakly.

Before he could come up with the rest of his lame answer, a sudden wave of cold washed over him. He sucked in the mist threatening to escape his lips, and a shiver rippled through him.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine," he lied, his eyes already darting around. "But, uh, I just remembered I’m expected somewhere else. And well, I'm running late. So um... it was nice to see you again, good luck and... see ya!"

Valerie waved goodbye with a resigned expression as she watched him hurry towards the exit. All those years spent together in high school had obviously taught her to just roll with his quirky habit of slipping away at the most random times.

As soon as Danny had left the store and rounded the corner, he ducked behind a nearby pickup truck and went ghost. The light from his transformation had barely faded when startled screams erupted inside. Time to move.

In one seamless leap, he phased through the wall, every sense on high alert.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST! BEWARE!"

His muscles relaxed at once. Oh, this shouldn’t take long.

"Hey! Boxie, I’m over here," he called out in a singsong voice as he flew up to the center of the store.

The Box Ghost had wasted no time in gathering a hefty stack of shoeboxes. Upon spotting him, they levitated and began to swirl around him like a miniature tornado.

"Phantom! These boxes are mine! Mine, you hear! You can't take them away from me!"

With a vengeful sweep, the Box Ghost sent a small battalion of boxes flying his way. Danny dodged most of them with a single jump, but a few managed to turn sharply and proceeded to dump stilettos all over his head.

"Ouch," he grumbled, rubbing his skull.

The other boxes on the shelves had started to quiver with anger. They glowed blue, shaking against each other, their lids clattering like a flock of furious harpies. All the customers had fled, leaving the store deserted. The Box Ghost bellowed something again, but Danny paid him no mind as he fired an ecto-blast. The shoeboxes sprang up in unison, forming a protective wall in front of their master.

BOOM!

The wall of boxes exploded, showering the store with cardboard scraps, chunks of soles, leather and plastic .

"Oops," Danny muttered.

The Box Ghost streaked toward the kids’ aisle, a whirlwind of boxes in his trail. Danny bolted after him, but a sudden sound made him stop and spin around.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Reacting on pure instincts, Danny contorted his body without regard for physics, twisting into impossible loops and holes.

"HEY! ARE YOU CRAZY!"

The Red Huntress, fully clad in red leather and perched on her hoverboard confronted him in all her glory. The mask’s visor obscured her expression, but the massive ecto-gun she was aiming at him was a sure sign of her foul mood. Then, her hoverboard bursted forward, and she fired again.

Shit, shit, Danny thought frantically, spinning and twirling to evade. Catching the Box Ghost in these conditions was going to be impossible.

"STOP," Danny yelled again, trying to get out of her range. "Can't you see I'm trying to—"

"To ruin my life! Again!" Valerie yelled back, still squeezing the trigger. "You just love destroying the places I work at, don’t you?! Or any store I’m looking to work at!"

An ecto-shot grazed him, the pain causing him to instantly slap a hand on his side. Damn. It had been a long time since Valerie had attacked him with such fervor, and clearly, she hadn't lost her touch.

"Val, just think for a second! I—"

"Don't call me Val, ghost!," she barked. "We're not friends!"

"Stop shooting me!" Danny demanded, frustration boiling over.

Narrowly avoiding another round, Danny phased through several shelves to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Huntress. While doing so, he scanned the aisles for the Box Ghost, but evidently, he had made a break for it.

With a short huff, he flew up and made a final quick loop around the store to be sure the Box Ghost was no longer there, then phased through the ceiling. Out in the open air, he soared even higher into the sky to get a bird's-eye view of the entire area. There was no trace of the other ghost.

It wasn't his most pressing concern though. Down below, Valerie's hoverboard roared. She would be on his tail in no time, and he knew she was equipped with powerful trackers that even his invisibility couldn't entirely fool. He had no desire to fight her. Fleeing was his best bet for now.

Diving into the clouds, Danny made his escape and sped away without any further consideration for negotiations. Valerie was convinced he was guilty, and he knew from experience that talking wouldn’t get them anywhere at this point.

It was as if they were both fourteen again, as if the slow progress they had made in their relationship had been brutally wiped away and forgotten. True, they'd never been friends —occasional allies, at best— but Valerie had begrudgingly come to admit that Phantom wasn't so bad, for a ghost anyway. That was, until today. Now, she apparently had no problem shooting at him on sight. Because she had him all figured out, hadn’t she: Phantom just couldn’t resist blowing up stores alongside his favorite sidekick, the Box Ghost… Danny groaned. Ugh. Stupid doppelganger. And stupid Box Ghost. Stupid ghosts!

Once he was certain he'd lost Valerie, he flew back down and became intangible for a moment, so as to shake off the icy water that had soaked him when he had gone through the clouds. His side throbbed with a dull ache. He sat on the edge of a residential building and took a look at his injury.

His ribs had been grazed, nothing serious. The scratch glowed a sharp green against his pale skin. Already, the wound was visibly healing, and the torn section of his suit was reknitting itself, delicate ectoplasmic fibers creeping like fine black tendrils across his skin.

"Shoo! Shoo!"

Danny glanced down. A few feet below, a man in pajamas had come out onto his balcony and was waving a broom in his direction, as if trying to chase away a pesky pigeon stuck in the gutter. Danny opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to get into yet another argument and he could all too easily envision the other neighbors, soon drawn by the noise, stepping out to add their two cents as well.

With an indignant huff at the man still brandishing his broom, Danny took off again. This weekend was going from bad to worse. Plasmius messing with his college dean, Skulker, the Box Ghost, Valerie shooting at him... And now people in pajamas bullying him with broomsticks? How was this his life?

Night was beginning to fall, painting the sky in hues of red and gold. Danny, still seething with frustration, was flying over Amity Park, when another icy chill alerted him to the nearby presence of a ghost. His gaze raked the area. The Box Ghost?

No, it was better. Much better.

"PLASMIUS!"

Vlad froze for a fraction of a second, his posture briefly stiffening before he relaxed again. He rose into the air and turned, his cape billowing behind him. Though his eyes were devoid of pupils, a definite sarcastic glint shone within them, and as he drew nearer he bowed his head in mock courtesy.

"Phantom."

Danny realized he knew this place: this was Ernesto Montez's house —the very same spot where he had caught Vlad on New Year's Eve. He had a strong feeling that this was also where Montez held his election campaign team meetings. The day had left him on edge, and the mere sight of Vlad —along with the memory of the stunt he had pulled— made his fists clench.

"You shouldn’t be here," he snapped.

"Is that so? I'm just passing through."

"We both know you’re not just 'passing through'. You’re spying on Montez."

"You can’t prove that."

Danny frowned. He didn't need to prove anything. Amity was under his protection. It was his job to protect the town and its residents from the likes of Plasmius and other malicious ghosts who kept sneaking in to cause trouble. Barely contained energy now radiated from his fists and simmered in his eyes. Still, Vlad didn’t react.

"We didn't quite finish our chat yesterday, did we?"

"I don't feel like chatting."

"Oh, I can see that. Fighting, on the other hand…"

Vlad spread his hands in challenge. An invitation to settle their conflict the good old way.

Itching to wipe that insufferable smirk off his face, Danny channeled the energy buzzing within him into a powerful ecto-blast. Vlad teleported away, but Danny had learned his lesson too and he knew what was coming. With a swift side leap, he narrowly avoided the hand that had been about to seize him by the nape of the neck before soaring up to put some distance between them. He clasped his hands together and then spread them wide, creating a large, bright green ecto-sphere.

"AAAH", he shouted at the top of his lungs, hurling the orb with all his might.

A pink ecto-energy shield materialized, its curved surface deflecting the projectile back toward him and forcing him to somersault to evade. The stream of ecto-energy crashed into a tree, scattering a flock of birds into the sky, their angry chirps filling the air. Danny was panting now, but his anger had slightly faded, and his mind suddenly felt clearer, sharper. Brute force alone was never enough against Vlad. He had to use his brain.

"You know, it's precisely because of this kind of reckless behavior that you get such a bad rap in the media," Vlad commented with feigned chagrin as he watched the birds fly into the distance.

The jibes were nothing more than a tactic to goad him into losing his temper. But two could play that game. And it was one Danny excelled at.

"Yeah, well, I guess we can't all be voted 'most eligible bachelor in the country' by some glossy magazine. How much did it cost you to bribe them into it, by the way?"

Vlad scoffed.

"I did no such thing, and I’ll have you know that I— HEY!"

Vlad narrowly blocked the ecto-blast just in time, but his attention had been diverted for a split second. It was all Danny needed to turn invisible and launch another attack from a better position. This time, the blast struck Vlad squarely in the chest, sending him hurtling a good thirty feet across the sky.

"Ha!" Danny exclaimed with satisfaction.

He became visible again and couldn't resist an insolent little hand flourish. Vlad regained his balance, his ruby eyes ablaze.

"Very well, little badger, you’re on."

With a puff of magenta smoke, a clone materialized beside him. Danny gulped and crouched into a fighting stance. All his senses were heightened, consumed with pulsing adrenalin. Anticipation flared in his nostrils.

Vlad lunged forward, Danny countered. Soon they were engaged in a battle as fierce as exhilarating. Their exchanges of attacks and blows were brutal, some potent enough they would have utterly crushed weaker ghosts; yet for them, it was a familiar dance, executed with flawless balance.

The fight served as a catharsis for Danny. Against Vlad, there was no need for him to hold back or pull his punches. Soon enough, as the duel evolved into more of a rivalry competition, victory took a backseat. They were both aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses, and instinctively knew when to strike, or when to allow brief moments of respite in the guise of witty banter and jabs. Facing such an impeccably matched opponent was a source of pure sporting enjoyment neither could resist.

For hours on end, shots, blasts and explosions echoed without pause. It wasn’t until well into the night that the final bursts of green and magenta illuminated the dark sky. Once again, their clash had taken them to the outskirts of town, leading them to a large park. Though not quite deserted when they had arrived, the last few joggers had quickly fled upon spotting two angry ghosts locked in battle.

Their endurance had been pushed to its limits. Feeling utterly drained, they all but collapsed at the foot of a hill, sprawled out side by side. Vlad was the first to revert to human form, likely too spent to remain a ghost without discomfort.

"You’ve got quite the energy, little badger," he sighed.

The usual nickname lacked sarcasm, and Danny found he didn’t mind it. He shifted back into his human self as well and winced immediately. He was going to be so sore tomorrow.

"That’s the energy of youth," Danny responded with a chuckle. "I need to burn it off; let off some steam."

"And preferably when I’m around, it seems."

"Tell you what, how about you let me use that super fancy gym of yours, then? That is, unless you're afraid I'll wreck the place."

"I highly doubt you could even scratch the walls."

Danny made an amused sound, his eyes closed, relishing the cool night air against his sweat-dampened skin. The ground beneath his skull felt pleasantly solid. A brief silence settled between them, punctuated only by their slowing breaths and the gentle rustle of leaves in the trees. Then Vlad spoke again, slow and measured:

"I could train you. If you wanted." Vlad obviously knew him all too well, because he quickly added, "And it’s not a ploy to turn you into my evil apprentice."

His disdain for the childish notion was so clearly enunciated in those last words that it elicited a weak snort of laughter from Danny.

"Alright then. Okay."

His tone was casual, but they both knew better: it was a major agreement. Danny had always rejected his teaching offers, though they had been numerous and frequent over the years. Vlad remained silently impassive, but Danny could almost sense his inner delight.

Maybe he'd taken one too many blows to the head or something, because his decision made no sense, he knew. All week, he had wanted nothing but to kick Plasmius’s teeth in, and now he just signed up for training sessions with the guy? It was absurd, and yet, it was as if their fight had set the record straight, in some inexplicable way. He felt strangely calm.

"About our conversation yesterday...," Vlad trailed off, his voice low.

His words were unusually hesitant, and Danny sighed inwardly; he might as well just bite the bullet.

"Yeah, look, I probably shouldn't have barged into your office like that, and then stayed out all night."

He wasn’t going to admit to throwing a tantrum, but that was essentially what he'd done, right? He'd spent the night sulking and hadn't come back until much later. Technically, he had been the first one to deliberately break their agreement. How had Vlad phrased his request again...? Not to treat his house like a hotel.

"You're free to come and go as you please," Vlad replied evenly.

"I was so mad. The thing is... I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way you do things. It's so..."

He waved his hand above his head, as if trying to grasp the right word. Cunning? Selfish? Deceitful?

"I shouldn't have," Vlad said.

Danny turned his head to look at him, his cheek pressed against the grass.

"I knew I was stepping over your moral boundary, and I shouldn't have. I regret it."

Danny’s eyes widened, fixed on Vlad who kept his gaze resolutely ahead, seemingly lost in the starlit darkness above. Vlad wasn't one to offer apologies. Let alone sincere ones. Yet, this might have been as close as he'd ever come.

"Thank you."

Granted, he hadn’t outright admitted his methods were unethical but he had expressed remorse. Not necessarily for the action itself —Danny wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise—, but at least for the impact it had on him. There was little doubt Vlad would do it all over again given the chance, but even so, Danny was willing to let it go for the time being.

They lay there, soothed by the quiet lullaby of the night. Leaves rustled lightly in the breeze, small creatures stirred in the bushes, a dog barked in the distance. Danny felt calmer than he had in days.

His attention had drifted upward to the constellations above, his eyes tracing the outlines of Orion, Pegasus, Cassiopeia, and his favorite: Andromeda. The Pleiades shone particularly bright tonight, he mused, before remembering that January was indeed the prime month for observing them. As he studied the Seven Sisters, he was suddenly reminded of Jazz.

"Vlad?"

"Hmm?"

"Did my parents tell you anything about the patent situation?"

Vlad snapped out of his own reverie and propped himself up on an elbow to look at him. His eyes were two bottomless pools of blood-red moonlight, glowing in the night.

"No, they didn’t. What is this about?"

Danny outlined what he knew. His dad’s slip-up, their worries, the cease-and-desist order. In a few words, he briefly touched on the messages he'd exchanged with Jazz.

"She thinks it's bad. They’ve lost the rights to their new invention —the... uh, ecto-frequency transfer thing, and they’ve put so much work into it, so yeah…"

"I see," Vlad whispered.

Danny allowed a hint of ecto-energy seep into his eyes too, pushing back the darkness. Instantly, everything seemed much brighter and he was able to distinctly make out Vlad's pensive expression.

"I thought maybe they'd told you? They've upgraded the town’s anti-ghost security with their new stuff, right?"

"Yes, but unfortunately, I wasn’t clued in on this yet. It could be a problem, indeed."

If Danny had hoped to hear him downplay the potential severity of the situation, he was disappointed. Judging by his grim expression, he seemed to share Jazz’s concerns. Uneasiness twisted a painful knot in his guts.

Was Fenton Works in trouble?

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Third Weekend

Vlad

A giggle escaped Danny’s lips. The faint buzz of ecto-energy that the little ghost blobs transmitted tickled his skin as they brushed against him.

"Boo! Booo!" they squeaked, waving their tiny arms above their shapeless heads.

Danny had been flying through the Zone on his way to Vlad's house, following his now-familiar route, when a flock of ghost blobs had crossed his path. They had surrounded him, intent on spreading terror wherever they went, and had been targeting him for several minutes, roaring moderately convincing boos in their high-pitched voices. The boldest of the bunch unceremoniously grabbed a lock of his white hair with its tiny hands and gave a firm tug, resulting in little more than a pinch.

"You guys are so cute," Danny chuckled, shaking his head to scatter the ghosts, who dispersed like a swarm of mosquitoes.

A displeased murmur rippled through the group. They didn't want to be cute, they wanted to be terrifying! With indignant squeals, they finally retreated, and the herd resumed its journey through the Zone. A smile lingering on his face, Danny watched them fly away in uncertain zigzags until they were just a speck among the green and purple wisps.

He wasn’t in any rush. This was the third weekend he would spend at Vlad's, and he was starting to know his way between the two portals. Though he could have reached his destination by now, he had decided to take his time. These commutes had become his only chance to soak up the nourishing ectoplasm of the Zone. Unlike Amity Park, where the dimensional veil was remarkably thin, the atmosphere in Madison was poor in ectoplasm, making these weekly trips through the Zone refreshingly invigorating.

The week before, he and Vlad had finally patched up their differences. Kind of —and at least for the moment. He hoped no new major clashes would disrupt their truce, this time. They had also agreed to train together, and the prospect filled Danny with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Part of him worried that Vlad would slip back into his old world-domination monologues, despite his promise. At the same time, he couldn’t deny he was curious to see what Vlad could teach him. He wasn't too proud to admit it: Vlad had always held the advantage of experience. Decades of experience. He possessed powers Danny could only dream of, and he had seen him perform extraordinary feats.

Danny had only been a half-ghost for four years. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t made significant progress in that time —quite the opposite. The way he had learned to control his powers had been exponential and spectacular. Those early months spent struggling to stay visible and avoid sinking through his chair in class were long gone.

Yet, recently, he had admittedly grown complacent. In the past, Sam and Tucker had constantly spurred him to push his limits and explore the full extent of his abilities. Now that he was on his own, it was up to him to maintain discipline. Talent alone was going to cut it, and he knew he had been slacking off, as of late. Vlad certainly hadn't honed his powers by taking it easy.

With that thought in mind, he halted his flight through the Zone. It had been a couple of weeks since his encounter with Johnny 13, and he hadn't attempted to create a portal to Amity Park since then. The initial try had shown promise, but the attempt had ultimately ended in failure. One thing was certain, though: he'd never succeed unless he kept trying, he mused, filled with newfound determination.

Drifting alone in the infinite expanse of the Zone, he recalled Johnny's advice. The malleable ether between his fingers. The vibrations of its micro-particles. Danny lifted his arms and stretched both of his hands in front of him. Johnny had recommended visualizing a familiar place. Just... he’d better avoid the mall this time.

Danny shut his eyes in deep concentration, when he heard a crackling sound. As he opened them again, his pupils widened in surprise and a wave of excitement washed over him. Before him, a portal floated wide open. It was smaller than the last one, but it also looked more stable, its fluctuating edges sharper. And on the other side: his room! His old room, at his parents' house, at Fenton Works. He had immediately recognized the worn-out posters on the walls and his starry sky comforter.

He floated towards the interdimensional tear, cautiously poking his head through the opening. Yep, this really was his room. Emboldened, he ventured further until he crossed entirely to the other side. He turned back, his eyes locked on the portal. Face taut with apprehension, he held his breath, half-expecting it to explode like the last one had. A few seconds passed, but nothing happened. The portal was... stable? He'd done it!

Danny took in the room with a sweeping glance —his desk, cluttered with all his knick-knacks, books, models, video games. It was all there. He hovered at the center, filled with awe. Just moments earlier, he had been on the other side, deep in the Zone. And now he was here. He had really done it.

All was quiet. Danny could hear no sound except the eerie murmur of the open portal behind him, and the steady ticking of his alarm clock on the bedside table. It was a Friday afternoon; his parents were undoubtedly engrossed in their work down at the lab.

Feeling particularly confident and enthusiastic, Danny phased through the floor of his room, landing softly in the kitchen. A carefree smile on his lips, he turned around to grab a soda from the fridge.

Click.

His whole body tensed in fear.

Maddie!

His mom stood before him, her face contorted by shock and anger. The barrel of her ecto-gun was already trained on him, her grip firm and unwavering. Her reflexes were as sharp as ever. It was almost as if she'd been expecting him —and perhaps she had, considering this was the second time she caught Phantom intruding in her kitchen in just a matter of weeks.

Danny's brain had emptied like a sieve, his muscles momentarily frozen. That split-second hesitation proved a moment too long. He made a move to leap away. Too slow! A series of gunshots rang out, immediately followed by a searing pain in his shoulder.

"Aaah," he cried out, his hand reaching for the wound.

His mom was aiming her ecto-gun at him again, screaming something, but the pouding pain in his eardrums drowned her out and she sounded far, far away. For a terrifying moment, he thought he was going to pass out. Then his survival instinct kicked in and he switched to autopilot. Run, run, run. He had to put as much distance as he could between himself and his mother. Between himself and that gun.

Getting his wits back about him, he phased through the wall and took off. Instinctively, he found himself flying toward the lab, toward the Fenton Works portal. Luckily, a flicker of clarity stopped him just in time. His dad must have been down there, still. Like a cannonball, he propelled himself upward to the ceiling, and reached his room. With a dizzying sense of relief, he saw that his portal remained open; a gateway to a black, icy ocean that had never seemed more welcoming.

He lunged through it. Panting, he raised his arms as best as he could to close the opening. His wounded shoulder throbbed with agony, sending a fresh wave of pain rippling through his chest like a thousand blazing suns. Tiny black spots began to dance around the edges of his vision.

The portal shrank, then disappeared. He was alone once more, in the vastness of the Zone, his breaths ragged and his body trembling.

Damn it.

He had completely panicked. While it wasn't his first time getting shot by his mom or his dad, the attack had been so sudden it had caught him off guard. It had been a close call. The image of his mother was still seared into his mind; her face twisted in fury, the gun in her hand, its barrel aimed squarely between his eyes, her finger on the trigger...

He wasn’t sure what exact type of gun she had used, but one thing was painfully clear now: that weapon hadn’t fired simple ecto-blasts, but real bullets too. Bullets likely made of that new ecto-copper alloy his parents had mentioned a while back. And if he wasn't mistaken, one of them was still lodged in his shoulder. Even now, the pain was excruciating and kept on pulsating in waves. If the pain was this intense in his shoulder, he didn’t dare imagine how bad a headshot would have been. He shuddered. There were some possibilities he’d rather not dwell on.

He remained still for a few minutes, panting, one hand clenched on his injured shoulder. Ectoplasm smeared his glove, and Danny knew from experience that he would first need to remove the foreign object. It would take a bit of time and rest for it to fully heal.

He took a deep breath. Now that he was alone again in the Zone, the nervous tension gradually faded and ebbed away. Soon, a feeling of excitement grew in its place.

He had succeeded!

He had managed to create a real portal, to Amity Park, to his room! A stable portal that had opened and then closed at his command. He had never managed that before. If his shoulder hadn't hurt so much, he would have done a celebratory flip. Instead, Danny let out a triumphant cry that echoed, unanswered, in the depths of the Zone. In the wake of this incredible victory, the pain started to feel like a mere inconvenience.

A childlike pride swelled within him and he suddenly felt the urge to boast of his success to Vlad. He set off again, glad his destination wasn't much farther. For once, he had surpassed Vlad in one area, and nothing and no-one would stop him from bragging a bit.

As soon as he entered the lab, he noticed Vlad, busy at a workstation. The surface was cluttered with an assortment of electronic components and tools —diodes, clamps, transistors, and an array of small parts neatly organized— and he appeared focused on what appeared to be an integrated circuit. Upon spotting Danny crossing the portal, he set down his soldering iron. Danny floated closer, hovering above the worktop and cast a curious look at the oscilloscope and its fluctuating curve.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing a notebook where Vlad had sketched a logic gate diagram.

"Hello to you too," Vlad replied emphatically. He unplugged the soldering iron and got up from his work stool. "I was making some repairs. I detected a short circuit in the portal purge system when I changed the filter this morning."

Then he squinted and hastily reached out to shield the electronics with his hands.

"Stay back, would you? I’d rather not have ectoplasm dripped on my circuitry."

Danny glanced at his shoulder. The wound was still oozing, green and slimy, and a few drops were indeed threatening to fall at any second. He floated back, rolling his eyes.

"Gee, your concern is touching, really."

"Sit," Vlad ordered, pointing to an empty worktop. "What happened?"

Danny complied and settled onto the bare table. His fingertips lightly grazed the cool, enameled glass surface where the milky glow of his ghostly aura shimmered. A broad smile stretched across his face:

"I managed to create a portal in the Zone."

"Did you?"

"Yep, nailed it on the first try too," he added, not bothering to hide his pride. "Well, the first time today, at least."

Vlad nodded in appreciation, amused by his obvious delight.

"I must say, I'm impressed. I know from experience it’s no easy feat. But I must ask: it wasn't the portal that attacked you, was it?"

With a tilt of his chin, he gestured to Danny's wounded shoulder. A thin stream of ectoplasm had trickled down his elbow and was now pooling on the table.

"Ah that," Danny muttered, suddenly embarrassed by the absurdity of the incident. "Yeah, so, the portal I made opened up at my parents' house."

"Oh?" Vlad responded evenly.

His tone remained impeccably neutral, yet Danny caught the mischievous glint in his eyes. Had he already caught wind of his less-than-perfect attempt last week? There was a good chance Johnny had spread that embarrassing piece of gossip throughout the Zone. He let out a contrite sigh.

"Well, yeah, anyway, so my mom shot me. I guess it probably wasn’t the best location to try something like that."

"Probably not, indeed," Vlad conceded. "Let me have a look at this. Does it hurt?"

"A bit," he admitted, wincing slightly as he shifted his position.

Vlad opened a drawer, reached into a box and pulled out a pair of single-use latex gloves. He slipped them on, then leaned over Danny's wound to probe at his shoulder with a clinical detachment that wasn’t devoid of curiosity.

Danny squirmed, feeling uncomfortable under his sharp scrutiny. He was used to tending to his injuries alone. The only people who'd ever given him a hand had been Sam, Tucker and Jazz. All three had tended to freak out whenever he bled a bit too much —or say, if one of his limbs looked like it might fall off.

A fleeting memory flashed through his mind, an unpleasant recollection of the day the Fright Knight's sword had nearly severed his right hand. He hadn’t been unable to bandage the injury by himself and had asked Sam and Tucker for help. A decision he had quickly regretted.

Tucker, white as a sheet, had sat on the floor, shaking, unable to stomach the sight of Danny’s mangled hand, barely held together by a few strands of gooey tendon. Meanwhile, Sam had managed to put together a makeshift splint, tears streaming down her face. She had barely listened as he had reassured them that his ectoplasm would act as a super glue, and that his hand would be as good as new in no time. It wasn't easy for them; they didn't fully understand how different his hybrid biology was from their own. From that day forward, Danny had resolved to seek their medical help in extreme emergencies only.

Yet Vlad... Vlad didn't look shocked or horrified. In fact, his expression was devoid of any trace of concern. He had moved to the lab refrigerator and retrieved a rectangular box with a high, see-through lid. When he returned, Danny saw that it was a cultivation box filled with small pots containing plants and small cuttings. Though they looked like regular aromatic plant stalks, the faint glow they gave off betrayed their otherworldly nature.

"What's that?"

He watched warily as Vlad plucked a few leaves with tweezers.

"Achillea Spectrum." Vlad turned back to him and offered him a stainless steel bowl with three medium-sized leaves. They were vibrant green and shone with a pale sheen. "These leaves are native to the Zone, and are perfectly safe to eat."

"Uh, yeah, I’m not eating that."

"They’re packed with ectoplasmic nutrients and boost the immune system. When chewed, they act as an anesthetic. You'll need them if you want me to extract the bullet in your shoulder."

Danny inspected the leaves in the metal dish more closely. Apart from their halo, they looked like those basil leaves his mom occasionally used for cooking. Still, that didn't mean he wanted to put them in his mouth. He glanced up at Vlad.

"What’s it gonna do to me?"

"Nothing harmful. You might feel a bit light-headed, but you'll hardly experience any pain."

"Uh, I mean, my pain tolerance is pretty high", Danny said. "I really don't think I need—"

"Take them, Daniel," Vlad ordered in a tone that suggested his patience was wearing thin.

"You’re sure this stuff won’t poison me?"

"Yes," he responded gruffly. "If I wanted to poison you, it would have been done long ago."

How comforting. Despite his reservations, Danny placed the leaves in his mouth and tentatively began to chew. They were unexpectedly juicy and tasted surprisingly good —fresh and slightly sweet.

"It's kind of... minty," he ventured, chewing with growing confidence.

"Hmhmm," Vlad acknowledged. He rifled through another drawer, apparently searching for something. "I'm surprised you've never tried it before. Its effects are well-known in the Zone. What do you usually use for pain relief?"

Danny hummed in thought.

"Not much, to be honest. Tylenol doesn't help anymore. I've tried a bit of everything from my mom's first aid kit, but nothing really works since..."

With his good arm, he gestured vaguely toward himself. Vlad shot him a severe look. Danny couldn’t tell whether he was displeased to hear about his experimentation with painkillers or disapproved of his recklessness.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Danny exclaimed.

Vlad had located what he had been after. Holding a pair of surgical scissors near his injured shoulder, he instructed:

"Hold still. I'll just cut off a piece of your suit."

With apprehension, Danny observed as Vlad deftly sliced into the black fabric, forming a neat square around the wound. The gash in his flesh was still gaping, oozing ectoplasm, but Danny realized he no longer felt anything; the pain was muted.

In fact, as he continued to chew the leaves, the fresh, minty juice seemed to rush straight to his head. He felt wonderfully light. Vlad had turned away again, muttering something about antiseptic, and Danny sat there, inexplicably transfixed by a shimmering reflection of light on a large metal box across the room. His brain floated like a helium-filled balloon. Airy, carefree. This stuff sure was more effective than Tylenol, a small, delighted voice remarked in his head.

"Daniel."

"Hmm?"

Danny tore himself away from the mesmerizing reflections and turned his attention back to Vlad, who looked unamused. Vlad raised an eyebrow and shot a pointed look to his shoulder. Following his gaze, Danny saw that the square of cloth he had removed moments earlier had already reformed over the wound.

"Will you stop that, please?"

"Huh? Stop what?"

His suit always regenerated, whether torn, ripped or burned. It was as much a part of him as his fingers or his hair. Vlad let out the long-suffering sigh he always did whenever Danny displayed his ignorance.

"You just need to will it. Focus a little."

Danny watched him cut a new square. He placed it next to the old one, which didn't look like much of anything now. Detached from its host, the fabric had reverted to a shapeless puddle of green ectoplasm. Danny concentrated, trying to prevent his suit from reknitting itself. How did Vlad know all this stuff?

A funny thought crossed his mind.

"Is that how you got your cape?"

Danny was suddenly overcome with laughter and his giggles reverberated through the lab. Vlad eyed him cautiously, but soon a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he eventually regained his composure.

"I see the Achillea Spectrum is working," he commented, applying some antiseptic to the wound.

The procedure was quick and painless. Vlad's movements were precise as he extracted the bullet, its metallic clink resonating as it landed in the surgical tray. With expert skill, he then stitched the tear as if he did this on a daily basis. Danny couldn’t help but be impressed. He had learned to give himself stitches with the help of online tutorials, but despite four years of regular practice, his stitches were never as neat as Vlad's.

"All done," Vlad announced, snipping the final thread. "It should heal quickly. Maybe even by tomorrow."

Danny reached up, running a finger over the newly closed wound. He still felt no pain. Awkwardly, he muttered:

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Vlad had just tended to his injury. It was strange. And very much contrary to their usual dynamic. Vlad seemed to appreciate this too, clearing his throat before adding:

"You should go get some rest. I'll finish up my repairs."

He tilted his head towards the countertop where the electronic components still lay in wait.

"Is it a difficult repair?"

Danny still felt cocooned in a soft fuzzy blanket, but now his head spun lightly and the pleasant light-headedness had given way to a drowsy sensation. His mouth felt dry and his limbs heavy.

"It shouldn’t be. I just need to double-check a few things, but I suspect it's a simple soldering issue. I'll replace the faulty element, turn off the portal, replace the circuit, and then power it back up. It shouldn’t take more than an hour."

Danny’s gaze lingered on the portal. It was closed, but as always, something seemed to whisper behind its doors.

"Make sure you're not inside when you turn it back on," he joked faintly, without taking his eyes off it, lost in a distant memory.

He yawned. He was exhausted. His brain felt sluggish, wading through the thick glue of drowsy thoughts. He turned to Vlad and was about to tell him he was off to bed, but the weight of his stare silenced him.

"What?"

"That's an oddly specific warning."

Danny’s eyes flickered back to the portal. So similar to the one in his parent’s basement. Where it had all started. Although he wasn't cold, his skin prickled with goosebumps.

"Well, yeah, that's how it happened... for me."

He shrugged, unease twisting in his stomach. Damn spectrum-whatever. Why would he even joke about that? It hadn’t been funny and he didn't want to talk about any of it.

Vlad's expression turned to one of horror.

Undoubtedly, he had always assumed that Danny had been ecto-radiated, like himself; unaware he had actually served as a conduit for a portal's genesis. Struck by lightning, swallowed by a black hole, consumed by death.

Vlad appeared on the brink of saying something, but Danny waved a dismissive hand to stop him.

"ANYWAY. I'm going to bed. I'm dead, ha."

He waggled his eyebrows with forced humor, but the message was clear: the topic was closed. Ghosts, with rare exceptions, didn't discuss their deaths, and Danny didn't like to talk about his own either; his half-death, or whatever their unusual condition could be called.

Then, eager to change the subject for good, he gestured with his thumb toward the gym beyond the glass partition wall.

"Still up for it?"

"We'll see. Depending on how your shoulder heals. For now, get some rest."

Danny nodded, stifling another yawn. He hopped off the table, floating lazily before rising to the ceiling and flying through it soundlessly.

As soon as he reached his room, he collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. Without any conscious effort, a ring of light swept over his body, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Danny woke up much later than he normally did. The medicinal plant he had ingested likely was to blame, or perhaps it was simply the strain of using a new power he had little control over that had left him drained. Whatever it was, he had slept deeply and it was nearly eleven o'clock when he finally went downstairs, his brain still foggy and his eyes bleary from the extended rest.

With slow, dragging steps, he made his way to the kitchen and pulled open a cupboard to survey the available assortment of cereals. They were all of the whole-wheat variety, no sugar, high fiber and the likes —some even had raisins… ugh! No wonder Vlad had turned to the dark side. He eventually reached for a box of granola mix that looked tolerable enough, and sat onto a stool at the central island.

The kitchen was like the rest of the house: huge, fancy, all white marble and gleaming metal. The stainless-steel, multi-burner gas stove was a mammoth, and the units and cabinets shined so immaculately that Danny could catch his reflection in them. Along one wall, an array of expensive gadgets was showcased, and Danny identified a sleek, futuristic breadmaker of some sort. As he ate, he idly wondered if Vlad ever used all this junk.

Where was Vlad, anyway? Despite the late hour and it being a Saturday, he couldn't hear a sound except the low hum of the fridge. The house felt eerily deserted.

On his first visit, three weeks prior, Vlad's territorial imprint on his home had been heavy; overbearing, almost. It had been impossible to miss, and its weight had conveyed a certain warning, a reminder: this space wasn't Danny’s to haunt. He was but a guest here.

Gradually, the sensation had dulled. Over the days, then weeks, his own imprint had tentatively clung onto these walls, intertwining with Vlad's. Hesitantly, but in peace. It felt homey.

As he lifted the spoon to his mouth again, his hand paused mid-air. The air froze in his lungs, and a frosty mist escaped with his breath. Convinced it had to be Plasmius—who else could it be?— he didn't react, but then a voice that clearly wasn't Vlad's spoke from behind, causing him to startle with a full-body flinch.

"Hello, Phantom."

Danny swiveled his stool around. There, his dark silhouette a sharp contrast amidst the brightly lit kitchen, stood none other than Amorpho. He raised two fingers to tip his hat.

"Oh. Hey. Hi, Amorpho," Danny said, swallowing his surprise. He relaxed and waved his spoon in greeting. "Wasn't expecting to see you here. What’s up?"

Amorpho floated closer, the hem of his trench coat skimming the tiled floor in swirling shadows.

"I'm here about our previous conversation. I'd like to scour Amity Park and search for that other shapeshifter, if that’s still alright with you."

"Yeah, sure, totally. Cool. I haven't seen him since the last time we talked, though. Maybe he left," he said, thinking aloud. "By the way, how did you know where to find me?"

"You mentioned staying at Plasmius's on weekends, last time. Is he…here, at the moment?"

His tone carried a note of concern. Plasmius was known for his irritability and extremely low tolerance towards trespassers.

"I’m not sure, I don't think so...," Danny replied, returning to his bowl of granola. "Why exactly do you want to find this other ghost anyway? It can’t be the first time you’re hearing about another shapeshifter, right?"

"No, of course not. But I've yet to come across anyone as gifted as myself," Amorpho declared, pushing back his glasses with a haughty sniff. "And the way you described his skills piqued my interest. I have to admit I am... well, intrigued."

He mostly sounded jealous and a little annoyed. Danny refrained from commenting on it, though he couldn’t help but think it was hilarious.

"Do you think he might be able to do stuff you can’t?" he asked playfully.

Amorpho let out an incredulous gasp.

"Hmf. Nothing's impossible, I suppose. But I highly doubt it. Shapeshifting is my specialty."

"Yeah, you can really turn into anyone, can't you?"

At these words, as if he had been challenged to prove his talent, Amorpho successively transformed himself into Danny Fenton, Phantom, Walker, Skulker and finally Plasmius. Maintaining Vlad's appearance, he twisted his features into a silly face which looked particularly funny on Vlad’s usually stern front. Danny burst out laughing. Pleased by the positive reaction, Amorpho reverted to his usual form and declared with pride:

"Yes, anyone."

Danny, still munching on his cereal, found he was thoroughly entertained. Taking another bite, he asked:

"And what about people you've never met? Like, celebrities?"

This time, Amorpho obliged by transforming into several actors, singers, and personalities. Danny, an enthusiastic audience, responded with oohs and aahs each time Amorpho shifted effortlessly from one figure to another. This was super weird, he thought, watching Freddie Mercury morph into Elvis Presley right beside the bread maker.

Their fun was abruptly cut short by a loud commotion and a shout. Danny jolted in surprise, dropping his spoon, which clattered against the tiled floor. From the hallway, a voice wheezed, stammering and fearful:

"I will tell everyone…! I will...—"

Danny got up, exited the kitchen, only to come face to face with... Ernesto Montez? The man was clearly attempting to flee down the corridor, his face a mask of sheer terror and his eyes wide with unshed tears. Upon spotting him, Montez let out a high-pitched scream, followed by a howl as his eyes darted behind him to land on Amorpho, who still looked like Elvis in a ridiculous white peach-skin getup. Montez bolted down the hallway so fast that he stumbled and ended up scrambling towards the front door on all fours.

"What the—" Danny muttered, utterly bewildered, as he watched the short man disappear through the slamming door.

The measured rhythm of footstep reverberated through the hall. Vlad casually adjusted his cufflinks and strolled to the door to ensure it was closed all the way.

"What was that?" Danny asked.

"Ernesto Montez."

"Thanks, I noticed. I mean, what was he doing here?"

"He came to visit," Vlad replied, seemingly unbothered. Danny frowned, prompting Vlad to elaborate after a brief sigh. "He demanded a meeting this morning. Clearly, he intended to intimidate me. It was quite amusing, actually."

"He didn't look amused."

"Hmm... I suppose the meeting didn't turn out the way he'd hoped."

"Vlad," Danny said solemnly. "Did you pressure Montez into backing out of the elections?"

This is what it had to be, or something like it. Vlad could act like such a child. But he immediately put on a shocked expression.

"I did no such thing! And frankly, I shouldn't have to explain myself, but he's the one who came to me with threats, if you must know. He claimed he was ready to expose to the public how I supposedly manipulated the town into voting for me in the last election." Vlad barked a dark laugh. "The fool."

Danny rubbed his temple.

"Yeah, except he’s right. Seriously, I don’t think there’s a single person who actually voted for you. Apart from my dad, of course."

Vlad scowled. He seemed about to retort something unpleasant, when he noticed Amorpho still awkwardly lingering in the kitchen.

"What’s this nonsense?" Vlad snapped, now in a bad mood. "This isn't the circus!"

"Chill out, it’s just Amorpho," Danny said with a shrug as the other ghost quickly reverted to his usual look.

Amorpho apologized profusely and then hurried off. Danny couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Why was it that most ghosts feared Plasmius but had no problems clowning around his house at all hours of the day and night?

"Please refrain from inviting all sorts of oddballs into my house, if you don't mind,"Vlad grumbled.

"What, Amorpho? Well, I didn't exactly invite him, he just... uh... dropped by. He's going to investigate the ghost that's been pretending to be me, you know? I just hope he didn’t scare Montez too much; the guy looked totally freaked out. What did you even do to him?"

"Nothing," Vlad assured. But his tone was anything but reassuring, and Danny knew that nothing was about the exact opposite of what had happened. "I simply don't appreciate being threatened under my own roof."

"He looked upset... He’s gonna want to get back at you."

"Ha!" Vlad scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "He's so shaken up he won’t say a word. He'll lay low now, I am sure of it."

With a sinister grin, Vlad turned on his heel and strode off, presumably to his office where he’d resume his little game of political chess. Danny furrowed his brow. As long as Vlad wasn't physically harming anyone, it was probably okay to let it slide… right?

Ugh. Whatever. He had other, more urgent things on his mind. Homework, for starters. And his patrols, naturally. He stretched. But first, he was going to take a shower.

The remainder of the day concluded without further incident, and then Sunday arrived.

Because of Danny’s injury, Vlad had decided to put any physical training on hold, despite Danny’s insistence that his shoulder no longer hurt. It was true—he felt fine. He had been out patrolling the night before, and upon waking up that morning, he had found that his injury had almost completely healed. Nevertheless, Vlad had deemed it wiser to refrain from overly violent activities —ironic, coming from the man who’d never had any qualms about knocking him around for most of his teenage years. In the end, they had agreed to focus on their powers instead.

Danny had expressed interest in telekinesis, a choice he soon came to regret because, despite Vlad's advice, it became evident rather quickly that he lacked any aptitude for it. For the past twenty minutes, he had been trying, without luck, to move a sports towel lying on the bench. Not a single corner had twitched. His hands were now shaking, not from concentration, but from a growing urge to pulverize the darn thing. To make matters worse, the obvious ease with which Vlad made balls, discs and various objects jump and dance around him was downright infuriating.

He shot Vlad an exasperated look as he effortlessly directed a set of weights to settle in a corner of the gym. Glowing a bright magenta, they obediently lined up on their designated rack.

"That’s it! This is driving me crazy!" Danny exclaimed. "I give up!"

The idea had sounded great, initially. The way Vlad manipulated all kinds of everyday objects —a jacket, books, his laptop, a cup of coffee— made it look so easy and practical. Not to mention the significant advantage a power like this could provide in a fight.

"I did warn you this might happen," Vlad reminded him.

"But why?" Danny whined, sounding rather undignified.

"Not all powers are inherent. While some are common to all ghosts —invisibility, intangibility, flight— there are also more complex ones that require a certain natural aptitude. Like shapeshifting, a talent your unexpected guest from yesterday is obviously gifted with. Telekinesis is more widespread than that, but it still demands a certain innate predisposition."

"So I'm out of luck then?"

"Who's to say for sure? But I wouldn't count on it. This affinity is innate, not learned. Despite my years of experience, I, for one, would be hard-pressed to make even a single snowflake."

That cheered him up a bit. At least there were some things he could do that Vlad couldn’t. The sport towel now forgotten, Danny floated on his back and took a moment to glide calmly, his gaze drifting idly to the gym's high ceiling. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and straightened up.

"Duplication! Now that’s cool, and I’m pretty sure I could pull it off!"

It was within his grasp, he was confident. He had actually tried to duplicate himself in the past, even if the outcomes had always been disappointing. He'd either sprout an extra pair of arms or end up with an ear where his nose should be. Vlad, on the other hand, he knew, mastered this power to perfection.

"Alright. But first, assume a proper shape, please."

"Huh?"

Vlad waved his hand in his direction.

"Your legs, Daniel."

Danny glanced down. Below his waist, the rest of his body dissolved into a trail of dark mist.

"What’s the problem?"

"It's lazy," Vlad said dryly.

"Are you kidding? It's... comfortable? Especially for flying?"

And it was true. Aerodynamics one-o-one. Whenever he flew at high speeds, he almost always formed a spectral tail. And sometimes, he did too when he was relaxed, like now. It just felt natural. Now that he thought about it though, he realized he'd never seen Vlad with one.

"What, you’re not feeling the aesthetic?"

He chuckled and he executed a few quick loops, his form curling and swirling behind him.

"It's a matter of discipline," Vlad grumbled. "And if you want to attempt duplication, you need to be fully in control. If you're so tired that you can't even maintain a proper shape, we might as well stop. How's your shoulder?"

"It’s fine, I told you." Danny willed his legs to reform, so as to please his highness Plasmius. "Seriously. You know how much I can take. Hey, you’ve slammed me into walls and thrown trucks at me. Multiple times. A little bullet wound isn't gonna stop me."

Vlad’s mouth twitched; perhaps a moment of contrition, unless it was a nostalgic pang for the good old days of beating the shit out of each other.

"Sure, but this kind of bullet is unprecedented. I've analyzed it; it's made of an ecto-copper alloy, did you know?"

"Yeah, my parents churn out new kinds of junk all the time. You get used to it." Danny waved his hand as if swatting away a fly. "So, how about these clones? How many can you make?"

Vlad’s lips curled into a smirk, his red eyes glinting, and then: one... two... three... four... five... Danny lost count. Pink clouds billowed all around and before long, the room filled with Plasmius replicas.

"Wow…"

There must have been about thirty of them, Danny estimated. He had never known it was possible to multiply oneself so many times. The Vlad copies exhibited a range of expressions. Some stood around politely, as if they'd just arrived at a social gathering and were patiently awaiting the proceedings. Others seemed bored and Danny spotted one inspecting his fingernails while another yawned. Most, however, were staring at him with an unmistakable air of calculated interest.

The weight of those gleaming scarlet eyes all bearing down on him triggered a sudden rush of adrenaline. Fully surrounded by countless Plasmius clones, unpleasant memories of their past hostility flooded back like a wild beast rearing its head, hissing in his ear that he was trapped. Driven by an irrepressible impulse, his aura unconsciously grew heavier, pulsing with a warning.

Vlad —presumably the original Plasmius— clicked his tongue reprovingly.

"No, no. None of that today."

With a series of quick popping sounds, the clones vanished one by one in clouds of pink smoke.

"Oh," Danny muttered, suddenly embarrassed.

Only now did he realize that his hands and forearms were ablaze with ecto-energy. At some point, he had unknowingly clenched his fists, readying for an attack. Feeling a little sheepish, he shook his arms to dispel the crackling green energy.

"I trust the demonstration met your expectations."

Vlad remained impassive, but Danny could sense a smugness lurking beneath the surface at having elicited such an instinctive and visceral reaction.

"Show off."

"Now it's your turn. Give it a try."

Danny groaned inwardly. Of course Vlad would have him make a fool of himself before offering any actual guidance. And after such an impressive display, Danny’s own lack of skill would be even more embarrassing. Awesome.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. Focusing intently, he envisioned his spectral essence and the ectoplasmic energy flowing through him. He imagined it splitting in two, like a cell in mitosis. Yet, an internal resistance thwarted his efforts, refusing to separate from its host.

He opened one eye, then the other. He was met with a skeptical look from the extra head protruding from his left shoulder.

"That was terrible," the additional head remarked, unimpressed.

Danny sighed heavily, releasing the breath he had been holding. With an annoyed shrug, he dispelled the ridiculous growth. Vlad, predictably, looked both smug and amused.

"You're not focused enough."

"Yes, I am," Danny insisted. "I really tried."

"You waste energy on unnecessary things. I've noticed it before, in our fights."

Danny crossed his arms and shot him a defiant glare. If Vlad launched into another lecture about how weak and inferior he was, he swore he’d punch him in the face; resolutions be damned. He took a deep breath.

"Case in point. Thank you for demonstrating," Vlad said, tapping a finger on his chest.

Huh?

"What are you talking about?" Danny asked, irritation and confusion mixing in his tone.

"You don't need to do that."

"Do what!?" he snapped.

"This. Breathing. Blinking," he listed. "All these self-imposed constraints to appear more human are nothing more than artificial behaviors that drain your energy and concentration."

"I…"

His initial impulse was to deny. Who cared? Why did Vlad insist on nitpicking over such unimportant stuff today? But his retort died on his lips as the comment wormed its way into his mind. It wasn't totally irrelevant.

"Sam and Tucker always told me that... uh, well, it's creepy if I don’t."

"They're not here now, are they?"

It had been one of the very first things the three of them had realized, back then. As a ghost, Danny didn't need air. He didn't even technically need it to speak. And rightly so, Phantom didn’t have lungs or vocal cords. His insides were nothing but ectoplasmic imitations of human organs, a grotesque mimicry of life. It had soon become evident that his newfound inhuman traits had unsettled his friends.

Sometimes you look… dead, Tucker had confessed to him a few days after the accident.

The otherworldly echo in his voice. The ethereal glow. The stillness of his chest. Even Sam, with her gothic fascination for the afterlife, had avoided meeting his neon green gaze during those early weeks.

Gradually, he had learned to alter his behavior as Phantom; remembering to breathe, to blink, to move. In short, he had learned to act more human, more alive. This effort, cumbersome at first, had eventually become second nature. It was fake, yes; for show, perhaps, but... it was also necessary, wasn't it? He needed to appear reassuring to the living.

Still, he couldn’t refute Vlad made a valid point. Whether Danny liked it or not, it was a fraction of his energy and focus that he was constantly devoting to something physically useless. Vlad, on the other hand, never bothered pretending when he was a ghost. He didn't sugarcoat his true nature. Danny could easily guess what he was getting at: embrace what you are.

Danny ceased the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

"Right, then. Now let's get into technique. You're trying to split yourself in two halves, aren't you?"

Danny nodded.

"That's where you’re doing wrong. Picture your essence like an onion, with individual layers you can peel away."

Danny closed his eyes again, feeling a sudden clarity in his mind. Vlad must have picked up the shifting vibrations of his aura, because he kept on guiding him:

"Yes, that's it. Gently now. Aim for an even layer, if you want a flawless duplicate.

Maintaining his focus, Danny felt a portion of his essence lift, divide, then separate.

"Hey, not bad at all!"

His own voice. Danny reopened his eyes. His double was before him, grinning. Amazed by his achievement, Danny flew around the duplicate in a little circle. No extra eyes, no missing limbs.

"A perfect copy!," he exclaimed in satisfaction.

"Hm, a bit more handsome, I'd say," the other remarked, smoothing his hair with flair.

"What?"

"Well done," Vlad said. "Now make it disappear and try again, but with more finesse. The more precise you are, the more duplicates you’ll be able to create."

Danny stared at the clone who immediately took a step back, hands outstretched in a defensive gesture.

"Nope, no way!," the duplicate stiffly said. "I'm here, and I’m staying"

"Uh…"

What on earth was going on now?

Vlad's lips were oddly pursed, as if he were struggling to contain a laugh.

"Get back here!" Danny ordered as the duplicate flew away from them. "You're supposed to do as I say. C’mon, knock it off!"

"Get lost! You're not the boss of me!" the other retorted petulantly.

"What's the matter with him?" Danny asked Vlad with an incredulous look. "Why is he... like that?"

"Impertinent? Well, he is your duplicate, after all."

The other stuck his tongue out at them. Danny glared at Vlad, who seemed quite pleased with his own little joke, then took off after his copy. To little avail. The other could fly just as fast as he did and dodged his attacks as if he could read his mind. This could be a training method worth exploring, he mused, though he was starting to feel dizzy from flying in circles around the gym.

After a while, however, they both began to tire. When the other finally touched back down on the ground, Danny landed beside him and assumed his most authoritative air.

"Alright, that's it. You’re going to, uh... merge back into me... or something. That's an order!"

"Nooo!" the other whined. "I don't wanna die!"

Danny gave him a puzzled look. He hadn't considered it from that angle.

"Come on, don't be so dramatic," he pleaded, growing a little desperate.

But the other crossed his arms and turned his chin away, a stubborn pout on his face.

"Go ahead, Daniel," Vlad said. "Reabsorbing a duplicate is much simpler than creating one," he assured.

"But he says that—"

"Nothing at all. He's just being a bit difficult."

"I thought duplicates had to follow orders?"

"Usually, they do, yes," Vlad chuckled. "But not always, it depends on your mental state. And on your technique. His composition must lack balance."

The ease with which Vlad had been able to create dozens of copies now seemed even more impressive. Vlad must have sensed his dismay, because he continued:

"It'll get easier with practice. And so will dealing with this kind of inconvenience," he added after a second, nodding towards the duplicate.

The other had stopped his sulking and now wore a vacant expression, his eyes glassy, his mouth slightly ajar.

"What's wrong with him? Why is he all, uh... zoned out?" Danny asked. "He looks like me in English class."

"Another matter of practice. He lacks the necessary concentration capacity to stay independent when your attention shifts elsewhere, like to this conversation."

"Well, I thought he was a little too independent, actually," Danny muttered.

Taking advantage of his double's dazed state, he absorbed him back. A green cloud later, it had vanished and Danny felt that portion of his ecto-energy returning to him. Even if the result hadn't fully lived up to his expectations, it wasn't that bad, he thought. He was nowhere near creating an army of clones like Vlad could, but perhaps with some practice, he'd manage to make one or two capable of following some basic commands.

"Let's call it a day," Vlad suggested.

"Yeah, I think I’ve got the hang of it."

Between the training and the physical exercise, he was starting to feel tired. He slowly stretched his arms above his head.

"You won’t be besting me with that technique any time soon", Vlad remarked with a smirk.

He sounded so smug Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Never needed it before," he retorted boldly. "One me is more than enough to take you down, Plasmius."

The bravado lacked any bite though, and they both knew it.

"Next time," he simply said, a fleeting scarlet glint flickering through his eyes, like the silent promise of a challenge accepted.

Danny chuckled, then rose up in the air once more, phased through the ceiling and returned to the main floor.

Who'd have thought? Training with Vlad was... fun?

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Fourth Weekend

Valerie

It was the best feeling in the world. Danny was flying over Amity Park. Finally!

This Friday afternoon had been rough —and the worst part was, he couldn't blame anyone but himself. He had completely neglected his patrols the previous weekend, caught up in other things, like homework and training with Vlad. As a result, his obsession had been gnawing at him so relentlessly for the past couple of days, that he'd even considered skipping his last lecture. He should have known better. Patrolling Amity Park was never optional, it was the very reason for his weekly visits.

Determined to make amends for his slip-up, he had kicked off the evening with a thorough sweep of the town. After resisting the nagging urge to fly home all day, the relief was almost dizzying.

There was more to his current delight. For the first time in months, Danny experienced a renewed sense of pride, and the boost to his self-confidence felt fantastic. He was pleased, knowing he hadn't given in to the temptation of ditching classes. He had completed all his assignments, and he had even received some promising grades already. No doubt, his life was finally getting back on track.

And it wasn’t just about his academic improvements, either. His visits to Amity Park were no longer the logistical burden they had once been, and with each passing week, he found himself increasingly enjoying his stays at Vlad’s place. Sure, the fact that Vlad lived in a luxury mansion didn’t hurt —especially one where Danny had his own private jacuzzi!— but more than that, living part-time with another half-ghost had given him a newfound sense of freedom and a peace of mind he had never been able to associate with the concept of home until now.

Using his powers in casual ways —like floating to reach the top of a shelf— without worrying about getting caught and facing the business end of an ecto-gun was a novel experience. And so was the general lack of secrecy. He no longer needed to hide his nightly excursions. Or lie about his injuries, for that matter. Danny hadn't forgotten the gracious way Vlad had tended to his shoulder, not even hinting at wanting something in return for once.

Of course, Vlad was still the same old fruitloop, knee-deep in dubious business —like bullying his political opponents and brainwashing whoever stood in his way; Danny was most definitely not forgetting that. But he had to admit that living with Vlad was far from the terrible ordeal he had initially feared.

Danny had been patrolling the city for several hours that evening. Just as he was about to wrap it up for the night, a cold chill gripped his chest. A faint mist escaped his lips as terrified screams pierced the silence, jolting him into action. He dashed forward and quickly spotted the Box Ghost further down. The ghost had managed to slip through his fingers the previous weekend and apparently, he had moved on from shoe boxes. This time, he had set his sights on the loading bay of a warehouse, and was opening the site's containers one by one to free the boxes trapped inside.

Warehouse workers scattered in panic, yelling and running around, as possessed boxes chased after them. Their distress immediately ignited Danny's protective instincts. He leaped forward, greeted good old Boxy with a witty one-liner, and the encounter soon turned into one of their usual battles. Minutes later, Danny was already about to win. He reached for his thermos when a mechanical noise erupted, and an angry voice rang out:

"You two again!"

Danny’s reflexes took over as he jumped aside, while the Box Ghost took his cue and sank through the floor. There was a loud burst of ecto-blasts, some of which struck the side of a container with a deafening noise, sending the remaining hidden workers fleeing in panic. Danny whirled around and shot the Red Huntress a heated glare.

"What the hell? I almost had him!"

The Box Ghost had resurfaced from the ground a short distance away, and was attempting to flee unnoticed. Danny bolted after him. He was not letting him escape, not again! Behind him, Valerie shouted:

"Get back here!"

He ignored her, speeding off. The hoverboard's engine roared behind him and he knew Valerie was in pursuit. He flew higher, gaining altitude, his eyes frantically scanning the area for the Box Ghost.

Where was he? Where was he? ... There!

Danny swooped down. Tunnel vision, focused on his target. One hand on the thermos lid, ready to unscrew it, ready to—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Ecto-gunfire forced him to swerve sharply. He cursed through clenched teeth —he was going way too fast. Unable to correct his course in time, his momentum sent him crashing into a thick wall of stacked boxes lining the warehouse exterior. Rolling and tumbling, a massive pile collapsed on top of him.

"DAMN IT!"

Buried deep beneath a mountain of cardboard, Danny struggled to break free, flailing in frustration, his anger drowning out rational thoughts as he thrashed about. Another shout escaped him, before he finally remembered there was an easier way out. He turned intangible and soared up through the air, his gaze sweeping the loading bay below. He honed on his ghost sense, hoping to catch even the faintest spark of aura somewhere, but...

"He's gone! Great! Really, that’s just... great!"

His victory had been snatched right out of his hands, and he could almost feel it like a physical thing slipping away. His obsession howled in his head, and the euphoria he'd felt at the start of the fight had turned into an intense yearning.

"Freeze, Phantom!"

Danny turned around. Valerie had him in her sights, one eye narrowed behind the scope of her ecto-gun. Her red mask was covering her face, concealing her expression.

"Oh, give me a break! I'm really not in the mood," he snapped.

He kept shooting glances around, hoping against all odds to catch a glimpse of the Box Ghost. But aside from a few workers cautiously emerging from their hiding spots, the place was deserted.

"Awesome, he’s cleared out. Thanks, Valerie, really. Thanks so much for your help."

"I didn’t come to help you," she retorted.

She still had her ecto-gun trained on him, but she was merely tracking his movements now.

"I was about to catch him," he groaned.

"No, you weren't! You were just trashing the place, like always! Stupid ghosts!"

"AaaAArghHH!!"

Danny scraped his fingers across his face, pulling down his cheeks in despair Valerie could be so pig-headed!

"Valerie! How long have we known each other?" he exclaimed. "Do you really believe I was goofing off in some warehouse full of boxes? You don't think that maybe, I was trying to stop the ghost who's known to do just that?"

Valerie eased the gun down a notch. A small concession. But Danny was too mad to appreciate this small step forward.

"Don't play innocent."

"But I am innocent!" he erupted, scandalized, arms outstretched, as if daring her to pull the trigger.

"Oh, are you? What, you’re gonna tell me you were innocent too, that other day at the shoe store? And at the jewelry place, on Christmas Eve, in the mall? The store I worked at had to shut down, you know! I lost my job, thanks to you!"

She readjusted the gun on her shoulder, and Danny noticed her finger twitching on the trigger. For a tense second, he hovered, perfectly still, feeling torn, then sighed. If he let this misunderstanding fester, their relationship would probably never recover.

"First off, I'm sorry about your job. But I swear, it wasn't my fault! There's some other ghost who's been pretending to be me. I had nothing to do with this whole thing, I wasn't even there that day!"

Valerie scoffed in disbelief.

"Yeah, right! You think I just fell off the turnip truck? How gullible do you think I am? It wasn’t you at the shoe store either, I suppose? Who the hell was it, then? Tinkerbell?!"

"Okay, yes, that was me at the shoe store," he admitted. "But I was just trying to catch the Box Ghost, like always!"

"Yes, like always," she repeated, her tone oozing with irony. "By wrecking everything in your path!"

Danny was beginning to lose patience. They were going around in circles.

"Look, you don't have to believe me. If you're so convinced I'm guilty, then fine! You're so stubborn, Val! Why can’t you trust me just a little, for once?"

"I don't trust ghosts," she shot back, not missing a beat, like a lesson well learned.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Danny muttered, exasperated.

He turned away. Turning his back on her was always a risky move, but she no longer seemed about to attack him without physical provocation.

"Prove it."

He halted, then slowly pivoted back. Below him, his spectral tail swayed steadily, poised to shoot straight toward the clouds.

"What?"

"Prove to me that I can trust you."

"Hm." He crossed his arms, wary. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm looking into someone. I want to ask you a few questions."

Danny raised an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. The mighty huntress needed his help now, imagine that.

"I thought I was just a ‘stupid ghost'," he said with a bitter edge.

It had been years since she'd last insulted and attacked him like that. Even though their relationship had always been a real headache, this sudden resurgence of hostility stung. In Valerie's mind, there was no connection between Fenton and Phantom, but for Danny, sealing off his emotions and enduring her clear disdain for his ghost half had always been tough.

She must have picked up on something in his demeanor because she finally holstered her ecto-weapon and disarmed her hoverboard's cannons.

"Okay," she relented with a pout. "I take it back."

"Thank you."

"So, about these questions?"

"Depends. Questions about who?"

"Vlad Masters."

His eyes widened.

"The... the mayor?"

"Yes," she replied impatiently. "So, will you help me?"

His mind's gears began to churn frantically, but it felt as if sand had jammed them up. He'd anticipated questions about some misbehaved ghost, or suspicious incidents in town, something along those lines. Valerie was aware that Phantom watched over Amity and that he knew it inside out; and so they'd occasionally teamed up like this before.

But... Vlad? Valerie was looking into Vlad Masters? The Red Huntress had no reason for wanting to investigate Vlad Masters. Amity Park’s esteemed mayor, a businessman, a world-famous billionaire, and most importantly, a regular human. Had she caught wind of something...? A knot twisted in his gut.

"Uh, sure," he nodded. "How about we head over there? It'll be quieter."

He gestured toward a few hundred-feet-high industrial building, where their conversation was unlikely to be overheard, as below them, the warehouse workers had returned and were now pointing at them worriedly, exchanging whispers among themselves.

Valerie agreed and followed him, her hoverboard humming softly next to him as they flew side by side. Upon reaching their destination, Danny landed soundlessly on the flat roof, while Valerie retracted her board and gracefully jumped down to join him. It was getting dark and the street lamps were too far away to cast any light on them. Only the milky glow of Phantom's ethereal silhouette glimmered amidst the shadows.

"So. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Vlad Masters."

She had a no-nonsense business-like attitude. Danny suppressed a wince. Using what he hoped was a friendly tone, he asked:

"Could you take off your mask?"

Valerie paused for a moment.

"Why?"

"I feel like I'm under interrogation."

Truthfully, he wanted to be able to gauge her reactions. The mask made this nearly impossible. Fortunately, Valerie eventually pulled it back, shaking her curly hair before fixing him with a piercing gaze.

"What do you know about him?"

Danny stared at her, doing his best to maintain an air of nonchalance, though he would have much preferred being the one asking this question first. He was on thin ice. Under no circumstances could he reveal too much, yet if he said too little, she'd catch on that he was leading her on.

"He's the mayor...," he started.

"Obviously, everyone knows that," she interrupted, her tone dry. "What else have you got? The shady stuff, I mean."

Danny furrowed his brow. There were too many things to count.

"He's been linked to several financial crime cases… even though he's always been cleared in the end. And then there was that tax evasion story, recently."

Vlad dabbled in all sorts of illicit ventures. Corruption, money laundering, embezzlement. The list went on. But that wasn't what Valerie wanted to know. She waved her hand, cutting him off once more.

"Yeah, yeah, I have the internet too. I mean... the other stuff…"

Danny froze.

Was she asking him what he thought? She couldn't be.

"What exactly are you after, Val?"

His voice dropped, serious. She simply held his eyes, unblinking, and asked him point-blank:

"What’s the connection between Vlad Masters and the Wisconsin Ghost?"

His naturally pale complexion spared him from giving himself away right then and there. He sucked in a shallow breath, his throat constricted, and felt his breath hitch. Remembering Vlad's advice, he ceased his breathing altogether. He couldn't afford any giveaways. From this point on, he treaded a minefield. One misstep and everything could burst into pieces.

"Their... connection?" he repeated carefully. "You'll have to clarify what you mean by that."

He wasn’t about to lay all his cards on the table. Her questions were too dangerous and, consequently, hit uncomfortably close to home.

"Do they work together?"

As if to give himself some composure, Danny uncrossed his arms, feeling the tightness in his throat ease a little. Good. That was a much, much safer line of inquiry.

"Hard to say," he replied. "I don’t hang out with Masters or Plasmius —the Wisconsin Ghost, as you call him."

"Bullshit! Some joggers spotted you both two weeks ago, fighting above North Hill Park."

"Yeah, you just said it: we were fighting. So, as you can imagine, we're not exactly best buds," Danny reasoned. "He doesn’t clue me in on his evil schemes of the week."

Valerie studied his face. His little tirade had been convincing: Phantom and Plasmius were known enemies, and Danny had hated him long enough to sell his disdain convincingly.

"Do you know if Masters associates with any other ghosts?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Could Masters be overshadowed by the Wisconsin Ghost?"

And there she went again with those troubling questions; her assumptions edging a little too close to the truth for his comfort.

"No, he’s not. Why would you think that?"

His reply had been fast, too fast, and Danny realized what a strategic blunder that was almost as soon as the words left his mouth. His eagerness to dismiss such a possibility had backfired: Valerie was now eyeing him with suspicion. For once, Danny wished he had even a fraction of Vlad's ability to manipulate conversations to his advantage.

"I have it on good authority that Masters has a keen interest in the paranormal," she said in a low voice. "He keeps it out of the public eye, but he knows a lot about ghost hunting and ecto-weaponry."

Danny knew what she was alluding to: Vlad had been her benefactor, once. He had provided her with her first ecto-weapons when she was just fourteen. Back then, Vlad had used her as a pawn to keep tabs on Danny. He had stopped supplying her a long time ago, and she had since acquired her own gear. She had never publicly acknowledged Vlad's crucial role in launching her hunting career. Vlad had certainly asked her to keep this detail under wraps. A billionaire supplying guns and dangerous equipment to a young teenage girl? Not the kind of thing he'd want circulating in polite society.

"Yeah, so what? Everybody's a little cuckoo around here, aren't they? Who doesn’t have some kind of interest in ghosts in this town?"

"It's more than that," she insisted.

"Well, it’s common knowledge that he's friends with the Fentons. Jack Fenton is his biggest fan; they studied science together in college. Plus, he's the mayor, no wonder he's curious about ghosts. But that doesn’t mean he's overshadowed."

Danny tried to steer her away from this line of thought, but his arguments didn't seem to be hitting the mark and were falling flat.

"Or maybe you just don't know about it," she countered. She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "So he's a scientist, huh? You've never seen him conducting any strange experiments? Weird stuff... involving ghosts?"

"No, the guy just likes to play around in his lab… relive his glory days in college or whatever... it’s not that weird."

Valerie seemed on the verge of saying something but halted abruptly. There was a fleeting expression in her eyes.

"I know you, Phantom. You’re not telling me everything."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You said I could trust you," she admonished.

"And you can!"

The lie had slipped easily past his lips. Valerie could never —ever— go down that road. He racked his brains to find something else that might convince her, anything to divert her attention away from that idea. Anything but Vlad Masters. But already, Valerie was pulling back her mask on her face, activating her hoverboard before nimbly hopping onto it.

"If you say so..." Her board's engines purred. She scrutinized him, towering over him. She raised two fingers in a V shape, pointed them toward her own eyes, then back at him. "I've got my eye on you, Phantom."

A second later, she was gone.

By the time Danny got back to Vlad's, it was already late in the evening. Soaring through the night, wind tousling his hair, he was still mulling over his chat with Valerie as he phased through the imposing front of the house, flew across the entrance hall and into the dining room.

Vlad was there, standing with his back to him and facing the fireplace where a magenta fire softly crackled. At first, Danny thought he was talking to himself before realizing he was on the phone. The notion that he might be overhearing a confidential conversation sparked a habit-driven thrill of curiosity.

But although he hadn’t made a sound, Vlad almost immediately turned to glance up at the ceiling, where Danny floated in the corner. Oh well. He landed on the floor and reverted to his human form, the flash of his transformation briefly lighting up the dimly lit room. He half-expected Vlad to shoo him away so as to keep his call private, but to his surprise he didn’t and merely gestured towards the dining table as he kept talking. It was then that Danny finally noticed the takeaway boxes. Chinese food. His stomach grumbled loudly, and he realized he was starving.

Ungracefully, he pulled up a chair and slumped into it before grabbing the closest box and a pair of chopsticks. Vlad must have eaten dinner earlier, because the food had gone cold. He toyed with the idea of getting up and reheating his meal in the kitchen microwave, but ultimately ditched the thought. He was too tired and so hungry that even cold noodles had never looked so delicious.

Vlad was still on the phone, droning on about plaintiffs, proceedings and appeals. Boring. He was pacing around the room, until his gaze landed on Danny, who was slouched over his meal, wolfing it down without so much as bothering to chew. Vlad’s face twitched and Danny braced himself for a reprimand on his poor manners, but instead, Vlad walked over and reached to lightly graze his fingertips over the box in his hands.

"Oh," Danny whispered, surprised by the abrupt change in temperature.

The box had warmed instantly to Vlad’s touch. Forget about telekinesis or duplication: this was the kind of really useful power he needed. Listening to Vlad with only half an ear as he ate, Danny's attention snapped fully back when a word caught his attention. Fenton. This conversation was about his parents, he realized. Unfortunately, a few minutes later and before Danny could glean any more clues, the call wrapped up and Vlad hung up.

"Were you talking about my parents?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Vlad admonished, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

Danny fought the urge to fling the carrot between his chopsticks at Vlad's face, but his curiosity won out. He made a show of swallowing his mouthful, then pressed:

"So?"

"Yes, I was." Vlad pulled up a chair and took a seat with far more elegance than Danny had displayed. He looked worn-out, his furrowed brow betraying his displeasure. "I'm going to help your parents with this regrettable patent case. I was talking to my lawyers, they're already working on it."

"Do you believe it’s as bad as Jazz thinks?"

He dreaded hearing his answer. Vlad's expression already said it all.

"Yes. This is a disaster."

"What! But why? Just because my dad forgot to mail some letter? I don’t get it."

"Figuring out exactly what went wrong is proving difficult. Maddie and Jack have been trying to track down who might have filed for the patent on their ecto-etheric frequency transfer, but the responsible parties are hiding behind an offshore trust company and various aliases. And their legal team is surprisingly sharp. Your parents are no match for them."

"Oh…"

"But I am. Unlike your parents, I've got nearly unlimited resources and access to the best attorneys."

Danny nodded. His hunger had all but vanished, replaced by a heavy feeling weighing on his stomach. He had to ask:

"Why do you want to help them?"

Despite their deal and the recent cordiality between them, Danny was all too aware of Vlad's methods. What would be on the bargaining table this time? What double-edged proposal would he offer him? I'll help your parents, and in return, you’ll have to...

Vlad’s mood was too serious for a sarcastic retort, and he thankfully spared him the insult of spouting yet another bullshit line about his supposed pure-hearted generosity.

"Amity Park is fully equipped with Fenton tech," he stated, arms crossed. "This suits me. I'm very familiar with their products, which means I can control and alter them to my advantage. I'm perfectly happy with the situation as it is, and have no inclination to change."

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. So Vlad wasn't planning to blackmail him in exchange for his help?

"Besides," Vlad continued sternly, "the tech in question is powerful. I won’t tolerate outsiders laying claim to it. That privilege is mine and mine alone."

His silhouette contrasted sharply against the fire’s bright glow, the flames carving dark lines across his face. His eyes burned a fiery scarlet. There was the Vlad he knew.

"Three, two, and… cue the evil laughter soundtrack."

Vlad sniffed disdainfully and his eyes returned to their human blue.

"You can joke, but this situation impacts you too. Your parents could lose everything, they could go bankrupt."

"I know," Danny replied, attitude sobering. "But it’ll work out, right? Don’t you have, like, a whole squad of lawyers? The ones who’ve bailed you out half a billion times?

"A fair estimate, and certainly not an exaggeration," Vlad replied sarcastically.

"I mean... It changes things, doesn’t it? They're bound to find out who did it."

"I hope so, Daniel. Tomorrow afternoon, my team and I will go over to your parents’, and we'll start building the case together."

In deep contemplation, Vlad fell into silence, his gaze fixed on some unseen point, likely already outlining plans to prepare for hundreds of potential scenarios. Vlad was not just an exceptional fighter; he was also, above all, a businessman and a skilled strategist. And for once, Danny thought with relief, he was finally putting his talents to good use.

Danny straightened against the back of his chair and stretched his arms over his head, feeling his back crack. The hits he took as Phantom always ended up transferring to Fenton, and clearly, his stunt at the warehouse had left him with a few bruises. Vlad noticed his slight wince.

"And how was your evening in town? You look like you had fun."

"Let's see... I got smacked into a wall and buried under a mountain of boxes."

Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"The Box Ghost?"

"Mmhm," he confirmed with a nod.

"And? I hope you caught him? He broke into a moving van parked outside the city hall on Wednesday. It was a real hassle."

Danny groaned a few inaudible words, but his sullen expression told the story.

"Oh, I see how it is. Looks like I’ll just have to pack up my things, then; Phantom's found himself a new, worthier archenemy," Vlad sniggered. "What happened?"

Valerie had happened. But Danny was reluctant to bring up their encounter and subsequent conversation. He knew Vlad. If he sensed his secret was in jeopardy, he'd lose his shit. And Danny was well aware of how drastic his reactions could be. The moment Vlad perceived Valerie as a threat... well, an accident could happen so fast. As a consequence, Danny was determined to handle the situation himself. He would personally ensure that Valerie let go of her suspicions. She had to. After all, Vlad's secret was his too.

"Just bad luck, that's all," he mumbled, picking up a chopstick and twirling it between his fingers.

Vlad smirked, then let out a brief sigh:

"If you run into Skulker, remind him he still has my copy of 'The Chemistry of Advanced Explosives' and that I'd appreciate it back."

"Yeah... I'll make sure to stamp his library card between two bear traps", Danny grumbled.

The next day, a good night’s sleep undisturbed by ghosts eased most of Danny’s tension, and he woke up feeling much calmer. In the morning, he trained with Vlad. This time, they sparred through successive rounds, and Danny ended up narrowly losing.

Sitting alone in the kitchen, he ate his lunch —leftover Chinese from the previous evening— while daydreaming about new ways to use his ice powers for the inevitable rematch. Vlad had already left for Fenton Works, having been invited by Maddie for lunch before the legal team’s arrival. After he finished his food, Danny quickly cleared the table and left the kitchen, hands in his pockets, while mentally listing all the homework assignments he needed to complete that day. He still had a presentation to finalize and a conclusion to draft; and he also hoped he’d have time to take a look at that cosmology book he had spotted in Vlad's library earlier.

He rounded the corridor, and... —abruptly halted in his tracks.

"V... Valerie?"

Yes, Valerie. Right there, in Vlad's house. In the corridor. What the...? Her eyes were oddly fixed on the wall, her hands fiddling with one of the two candle-shaped light fixtures. At the sound of his voice, she jumped and spun around, eyes wide. Recognition dawned, and her panic subsided a bit. She pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling sharply.

"Danny! It's you! Phew! You scared the heck outta me!"

She wasn't wearing her Red Huntress costume or her regular clothes, but rather a dark attire, a departure from her usual colorful style. She straightened up and offered him a smile, though it was obviously strained with unease.

"What are you doing here?", she asked. "I didn't see you come in?"

Danny casually strolled nearer and gave an unconcerned shrug. Over the years, he'd perfected the art of making things up, and his answer flowed effortlessly:

"Oh, my dad asked me to drop off some anti-ghost posters, for Vlad’s election campaign, y’know. I'm back home for the weekend, so I’m helping them out a bit." Silence lingered, as Danny waited politely for her own explanation. When she offered none, he prodded further: "What about you? What brings you here?"

In her eyes, Danny saw the frantic scramble to come up with a believable excuse. He recognized that trapped look all too well. He'd often worn the same, when his mom had questioned him about the blood and ectoplasm on his t-shirts, or when she had wanted to know why he had sneaked out in the middle of the night.

"I, uh, wanted to... leave a resume, for a job at the city hall. Yeah, that’s it. And Masters is the Mayor. So, uh, I came here."

"What kind of job? His personal electrician?" he asked with a smile, tilting his chin towards the wall sconces she'd been meticulously inspecting before his interruption. "And what did you mean when you said you didn’t see me come in?"

"Oh, well, um…"

Evidently, Valerie found lying on the spot much trickier than he did. She was stumbling over her words, and without her mask, her nervousness was clear as day. Danny watched her squirm for a while, arms folded, in a clear message: her story was bullshit and he didn't buy a word of it.

She seemed to reach the same conclusion, because she eventually released a long, defeated sigh.

"Okay, okay, it's not true. I'll explain everything, but you have to promise you’ll keep all of this a secret."

"Keep what a secret?"

She studied him for a moment, her eyes regaining that piercing quality Danny was so familiar with. With a finger, she tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"I remember, during the last election, four years ago… Your dad made you wear all that junk to support Masters —banners and stuff... but you never liked the guy very much, did you?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with—"

"I suspect Masters is hiding something. Something sketchy. And I've decided to look into it and find the truth. That's why I'm here. I spent all morning hiding in the bushes outside, waiting for him to leave. I figured the house would be empty."

"Oh yeah, I... actually came in through the back door, on the other side," Danny muttered. "But so what, you think he's swindling cash from city hall, or something? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the police can—"

"No, not the police," she cut him off. "And not quite like that, no, I’m not thinking about that sort of thing. More like... well, I can't tell you all the details, but it's tied to my job as the Red Huntress. And it’s very important. You have to trust me on this, okay?"

He nodded, holding back a bitter smile. Unbeknownst to her, her request ironically mirrored his own from the day before.

"Alright... What are you after? Maybe I can help?"

"I think I've got it figured out," she replied with a knowing smile. "Here’s the deal, I ran into Phantom yesterday, and he mentioned that Masters likes to play scientist in a lab he has somewhere around here. I just want to have a quick look…"

He was a complete idiot and he internally kicked himself. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? Now, Valerie had broken in, all thanks to his own carelessness. She turned away again and went back to fiddling with one of the candle-shaped sconces on the wall. With a sudden tug, she yanked the fixture down.

There was an immediate click, and the outline of a door, previously invisible, emerged from the paneling's grooves. Valerie pulled the movable partition, revealing a section of the wall that pivoted open. The opening behind revealed a long, polished concrete staircase leading down into the depths of the basement. She let out a victorious exclamation as Danny watched in astonishment.

"How did you know that was there?" he breathed, feeling equally impressed and puzzled.

He himself hadn’t been aware of this passage. He had only ever flown in and out of the lab, and had always seen Vlad do the same. The ease with which Valerie had discovered this access spoke volumes about her sharp deductive skills.

"I'm a professional, don't forget," she said, flipping her hair back, heartened by his admiring look. "How do you think I disabled the alarms? I know what I'm doing."

"And, um ..., you're planning to head down there, just like that?" Danny asked, feeling uneasy.

He had no wish to see Valerie snooping around Vlad's lab. What would she find in there? Surely nothing befitting the unassuming persona of the amateur scientist mayor.

"Sure, why not?"

"Then I'll come with you."

An idea had just struck him: if he could somehow stash anything incriminating before she got her hands on it, he might just turn the tables. Perhaps this was his chance to dispel her suspicions, after all. Without evidence, she'd have no choice but to confront the facts: Vlad was just some rich weirdo.

But Valerie didn't seem enthused by his suggestion.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. No offense, Danny, but... I'm the Red Huntress, I deal with things like that all the time. Whereas you, well…"

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Sure, he could lift cars with his bare hands, but to Valerie, he'd always be that scrawny kid who tried to dodge PE at school. He insisted:

"You can't go down there on your own! What if it's dangerous?"

"Exactly, it could be! I have reason to think there might be ghosts, and I know how much they spook you. Look, I don't mean to scare you, but... there might even be some here, right now, in this hallway."

Ha-ha. If only she knew.

He looked around pointedly:

"I don’t see any."

"That doesn't mean anything !" she retorted dryly, irked by his casual attitude. She locked her eyes onto his, as if trying to unsettle him, and tapped her index finger on his chest. "They could be lurking anywhere, anytime. You always have to assume that ghosts might be around. Ghost hunting basics."

Danny offered a tight smile.

"I’m still coming with you."

With a sigh, she relented:

"Okay, if you're sure... Just keep your eyes open."

They passed through the opening and went down the stairs, Valerie leading the way with Danny close behind. Despite knowing what awaited ahead, a nervous tension ran through him. As they cautiously made their way down, he couldn’t help but feel like some kind of burglar about to pull a heist.

Downstairs, the lab looked like it always did. Spacious, white, clean, sanitized. There weren’t any chemical experiments in progress, and the laboratory glassware, neatly arranged on shelves, glistened under the bright ceiling light like oversized soap bubbles. A couple of refrigerators hummed in a corner, their transparent doors showcasing colored vials and labeled boxes. The equipment was tidy and organized. The machines were switched off. Only the workbench where Vlad had been tinkering with the portal was cluttered. The previous weekend, he had identified other minor glitches —the sort of details Jack might have overlooked, but Vlad refused to leave anything to chance. The table remained thus covered with electronic components, integrated circuits, a soldering iron and various papers and diagrams.

Danny approached it, while Valerie made her way to the portal. Vlad had powered it down again the previous evening, after Danny's arrival, to continue his repairs. A lucky timing, as the portal was far less impressive in this state. Its doors stood wide open, but in the absence of a para-dimensional rift, the airlock merely revealed a plain, white wall. Not a glimmer of ectoplasm in sight.

"Check this out! What could it be?" Valerie asked, studying the towering frame of the portal.

Seizing the opportunity while she was busy, Danny snagged the documents and schematics from the table with an intangible hand, and hastily stashed them through a locked cabinet.

"Oh, I saw the exact same one at Comic Con last year. I think it’s a replica from Stargate, or something."

"It looks so real…"

"Yeah, I bet it costs a fortune. Turns out Masters is a huge geek, huh? Who'd have thought; haha…"

Valerie made an indecisive noise, casting one last wary glance at the setup before turning away.

"I’m going to check over there," she said, gesturing towards the table Danny had just cleared. "Let me know if you spot anything suspicious."

Not a chance.

Treading lightly across the floor, Danny moved quietly towards the refrigerators. With a gentle pull, he opened their doors, careful to be silent, and started to gather anything that had a supernatural glow. It was no easy task. The fridges held an array of vials, flasks and boxes filled with a variety of ecto-fluorescent samples. There were tubes of neon liquids, bottles containing slimy green goo and boxes of cuttings similar to the Achillea Spectrum Vlad had shown him last weekend. A whole lot of stuff that Valerie was better off not seeing.

Casting frequent, angsty glances at Valerie, who was currently bent over the integrated circuits and had her back turned to him, Danny began to phase the objects, one by one, into the floor. With his intangibility, he could sink them through the smooth tile surface, effectively wedging them between two material planes. It was an old trick. His bedroom's walls were full of first-aid kits, spare thermoses, and secret notes.

Just as he finished hiding beneath his feet a petri dish containing fanged purple blobs, Valerie turned to face him.

"Any luck? Be careful with those," she said, walking toward the fridge. "You're the one the Chemistry teacher gave detention to for a whole month, right? That one time you broke every beaker the school had?"

"Yup, that was me," he admitted with a grimace.

As if he could ever forget. Following that unfortunate incident, Dash had nicknamed him Fent-klutz, and it had stuck for the rest of highschool. It had happened not long after his accident, and at the time, he'd found it hard to stay tangible throughout the day.

"Hmm, doesn’t look like there’s anything really interesting in there," Valerie muttered, closely examining what little remained inside the fridge.

She seemed disappointed, and Danny was relieved. They proceeded to engage in a nearly hour-long cat-and-mouse game, during which Danny constantly needed to stay one step ahead. He diverted her attention away from a number of documents and pieces of equipment, phasing them into walls, floors and locked cabinets before she could notice their existence. The huge gym adjacent to the lab caught her interest, but although it attested to Masters' obscene wealth, she couldn’t pinpoint anything particularly suspicious about it.

After a while, she had to face the facts: she hadn't found anything to support her accusations. When she finally acknowledged defeat, it was with obvious reluctance, her disappointment written all over her face. Knowing her persistent nature, Danny doubted that this inspection alone would be enough to dismiss all her suspicions, but it had certainly shaken her confidence.

Eventually, they left the house together, as Danny had no particular reason to stay. After saying goodbye and going their separate ways, Danny waited until she was completely out of sight before transforming and flying straight back to Vlad's lab.

He landed, shifted back to his human form, and sighed as he contemplated the extensive cleanup ahead. It had been relatively simple to grab and hide everything within reach, despite Valerie's presence. But now, he had to return every item to its original place; otherwise, Vlad would notice the intrusion.

Danny was no stranger to tidying up a lab, given his experience. The one at Fenton Works had always been a happy chaotic mess, and over the years, Danny had developed a few tricks and techniques.

He began by thoroughly searching every hiding spot, retrieving the numerous documents, objects, tools, boxes, and experiments he had stashed around. This step took him a considerable amount of time due to the sheer volume of items; and since he had acted in such a hurry, it was some time before he could be sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Next, he arranged the objects and documents into groups based on where they came from. It was a tedious and complex task, but a few hours later, he was nearly finished. Soon, the only remaining challenge was tackling the refrigerator and its assortment of boxes, vials and ecto-biological containers. If this had been his parents' lab, the process would have been much easier. He could have simply tossed everything back into the fridge, and they'd have been none the wiser. Vlad, however, ran his lab with military precision, meticulously labeling, classifying, and cataloging everything. Intent on following his approach, Danny proceeded to diligently return each item to its original place, carefully reading each label and relying on his knowledge and a few educated guesses.

His progress was slow but steady. The fridge was soon mostly filled, with only a few items left on the worktop. He reached for a box holding two vials of neon-green liquid, and as with all the others, he mechanically read the label.

His blood ran cold. His muscles froze and he was momentarily unable to make a move, eyes fixated on the two vials and their labels:

Ectoplasm (sample): Phantom.

and

Ectoplasm (sample): Phantom clone.

With effort, he managed to set the box down. The plastic had started to crack under the pressure of his grip. Phantom clone. Questions and answers stormed his brain in a wild rush. Blood pounded against his eardrums. Phantom clone. Bits of conversation he'd had with Vlad came back in full technicolor, vivid as a movie scene.

There was a time when I seriously contemplated cloning you.

Danny had been horrified by the revelation. Vlad had assured him he'd never followed through with it, and he... he had simply taken his word for it? Had he forgotten who he was dealing with? Plasmius didn’t just drop his impulses. How could he have been so naive? So gullible?

The small label seemed to mock him. Had Vlad been playing him all this time? This impostor who had caused him so much trouble, this doppelganger —no, this clone.... Could it be that Vlad had...?

His heart raced at the thought. He pressed a shaking hand against the edge of the worktop and had to lean on it. His knees felt weak. His breath was short and painful in his too-tight chest.

He weakly sank onto the workstool, eyes still locked on the two samples. Slowly, his horror darkened into anger. Despite what Vlad had promised, had he given in to his darkest obsessive urges? He'd admitted as much, after all: there's no way to overcome an obsession. Had his apparent mature and reformed attitude been nothing but a sham? If so, Danny had been a complete fool. He'd fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

He stood up and hurried to a storage cabinet by the fridge, retrieving a thick binder. While tidying earlier, he had noticed it contained notes and records. He flipped through its pages, scanning its contents as he feverishly searched for any mention of Phantom's name.

His search yielded nothing, but lost in his investigation, he failed to hear the footsteps going down the stairs until it was too late. Not that it mattered anyway; he had no intention of fleeing or hiding. He shoved the folder onto the table and stood up, his heart pounding fiercely.

"I thought I'd made myself clear. You are not to sneak around my lab."

Vlad descended the stairs, one by one, each step deliberate and unhurried. When he reached the bottom, his eyes settled on the objects strewn across the table, the binder and the few vials. His eyes narrowed, his cheekbone twitched, and Danny knew he was furious.

"So, you're spying on me? Just like old times?"

His voice was low, his demeanor detached, yet Danny knew from experience that this was only a deceptive facade, like a predator luring its prey with a false sense of security.

"How did you know I was down here?"

Danny glanced upward. Were there cameras hidden in the ceiling? Was Vlad watching his every move when he thought he was alone?

"The hallway’s secret door wasn't properly closed," Vlad replied coolly.

He didn't seem to appreciate the implied accusation or the audacity. His eyes swept over the cluttered workbench once more.

"What's the meaning of this?"

The question caught Danny off guard. Part of him had half-expected Vlad to transform right then and go on the offensive. Historically, their conflicts had always gone down that way. The fact that Vlad hadn't turned ghost yet highlighted their shifting dynamic.

But Danny wasn’t inclined to play nice. His whole body was shaking with ecto-energy and he was pretty sure his eyes must have been glowing acid green by now. He kept his transformation in check, though. If he switched form, they would come to blows. And Danny wanted answers first.

"That’s what I'd like to ask you, Plasmius," he spat.

His snarling retort caused Vlad to pause. A shadow of doubt flitted across his face as if he realized he was missing some key context. Danny, far from acting sheepish as someone caught red-handed, looked both upset and angry.

"What's this!?" Danny jabbed a finger at the plastic box holding the two samples. Vlad followed his gaze, his lips tight. "Answer me, damn it! What the hell did you do?"

There was a moment of silence, then Vlad replied, still in that same mild, falsely calm tone.

"You seem certain you already know the answer. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"You've got to be shitting me!" Danny slammed his hand onto the table, and the vials rattled against each other. "I’m not playing your little games! There’s a label: Phantom clone!"

"That's right."

Danny was shaking with fury. Vlad’s excessive aloofness made him want to jump over the table and stick his fist in his face. With a colossal effort, he took a moment to breathe and regain some composure. A strangled chuckle escaped him.

"What you did to my college dean, that was one thing. But this... this is going too far. How could you—"

"Let me get this straight," Vlad interrupted icily. "You think I have cloned you, or that I'm conducting experiments to do so?"

"You said it the other day: I've considered cloning you!"

This time he couldn't fully contain the fiery green energy that flared up in his fists, and he had to shake them hard to dissipate most of it. Too many emotions were battling inside him. He felt enraged, lost, betrayed. But a nagging feeling whispered that something was off. Vlad... Vlad wasn't reveling in triumph or taunting him as expected. Instead, he looked irritated too.

"Of course: everything condemns me. Especially since I’m such a... what is it you always say? A lunatic. An egomaniac."

Danny glared at him, but confusion now tinged his anger. What was he playing at?

"So... you confess, it’s true?"

"No," Vlad snapped, his pursed lips revealing the tip of his fangs. "I'm merely pointing out how quick you are to accuse me of the worst, regardless of the circumstances."

"Aw, that's so unfair," Danny scoffed. "You, the picture of innocence. A real goody two shoes. As if you haven't pulled the worst crap on me for years."

Vlad shrugged, as if to concede the point. He was still obviously displeased, but there was something else Danny couldn't quite put his finger on. He seemed almost hurt. Or offended, perhaps. Which made no sense at all.

"Be that as it may. You are mistaken."

"Oh yeah? Then you better explain. Now."

Vlad took a few steps closer, and Danny tensed up, on high alert and ready to fight back if it came to that. Vlad ignored his reaction and opened the box. He took the first vial, the one labeled Ectoplasm (sample): Phantom, and placed it on the table.

"This is your ectoplasm."

Then, he picked up the second vial and set it down next to the first:

"And this one belongs to the other Phantom —your doppelganger, the impostor who broke into your parents' house and whom we saw on TV. I don't know who he is."

"I... I don't understand."

"Clearly," he retorted dryly.

"So, it's not...," Danny began, unsettled. "If you’re telling the truth... How’d you get a hold of this? And where’d you even get it?"

"In your parents' kitchen. Maddie shot the intruding Phantom, remember? There was enough ectoplasm spilled to collect a sample."

"What about mine?"

"Last week. You left it all over the place."

"Huh?"

"You were injured. Did you forget?"

"Oh."

Danny sank onto the stool, feeling drained and confused. His eyes lingered on the two samples but he wasn’t seeing them anymore. Hypotheses and doubts bombarded him. Gone were his certainties, but no matter how he mulled over Vlad's words, nothing made sense. His next question passed his lips in a whisper:

"But why?"

"Believe it or not, I was trying to help you."

"Then why all the secrets? Why take my ectoplasm on the sly instead of just asking? And why would you label the other one as 'Phantom clone'?"

Amorpho had combed through Amity Park in search of the impostor and reported back: he'd found nothing. Danny still remained convinced that the other ghost had to be an exceptionally skilled shapeshifter. He dared not entertain other, darker theories, such as...

The label Phantom clone glowed starkly against the vial's green hue.

"I didn’t say anything because I didn't want to worry you. And also because, I’m afraid I don’t have any answers." He paused and seemed to hesitate before adding, "As to the term 'clone'... All indications from my analysis point to it being your exact clone."

"Wh —what?" he stammered.

"From an ecto-genetic standpoint, the two samples are identical. It’s remarkable. There are typically slight differences even between a clone and its source, but not in this case. No discrepancies whatsoever."

"Are you sure?"

Vlad raised an eyebrow, as if questioning his scientific expertise was an insult, but Danny must have looked pale enough for him to withhold further comment. He simply nodded.

The initial relief of hearing Vlad deny the accusations had quickly vanished. Danny was lost. The idea that a second ecto-genetically identical Phantom was out there sounded both insane and horrifying.

His anger had gradually dissolved into bone-deep weariness. Vlad's gaze remained fixed on him, his expression grave, and Danny was engulfed by a wave of guilt. He'd thrown accusations, insults and had provoked him like it was nothing. While he still felt his reaction was understandable —of course seeing his name and the word 'clone' on an ectoplasm sample was bound to make him panic— he realized he had been quick to jump to the worst conclusions, and had discarded any benefit of the doubt. He met Vlad’s eyes, a sheepish look on his face:

"I shouldn't have accused you so fast. I'm sorry."

Vlad let out a sigh, more tired than annoyed this time.

"I suppose I’ve earned that distrust. You and I don't exactly have the best track record."

"Yeah…"

He could say that again. The truth was that although their relationship had significantly improved, old habits die hard and when it came to Vlad, Danny had never been inclined to presume innocence.

"So, were you just being nosy, or did you have a specific reason for sneaking down here today?"

Danny made some quick calculations. While it would have been easy to chalk it all up to curiosity, the weight of guilt combined with Vlad's somber expression prompted him to reconsider his approach. This impromptu spying session hadn't happened randomly, of course; he hadn't planned to tell Vlad, but...

With some reluctance, he recounted his encounter with the Red Huntress the day before — her suspicions, her questions about Master’s connections to ghosts, and then how he had found her in the house just hours ago, much to his surprise. Finally, he explained how he had decided to turn the lab upside down to maintain his cover.

Danny tried to keep the exact nature of Valerie's speculations fairly vague, and avoided mentioning her most troubling questions, especially those regarding Plasmius. This proved wise, because despite his caution, Vlad soon began pacing wildly, his stride predatory, his gaze murderous.

"See, that’s exactly why I didn't want to tell you," Danny lamented.

"You didn't think I was going to just stand there, did you?" Vlad snapped as he continued to pace the lab. "If that stupid little—"

"Hey, Valerie's not stupid!"

"For her sake, she better be. Because if she keeps sticking her nose where she shouldn’t, and starts putting together—"

"Then what?" Danny interjected. "You’re gonna push her under a bus?"

Oops, bad luck. That was kind of fate Vlad Masters' enemies usually met, wasn't it?

Vlad didn’t answer, his eyes darkening. They stood facing each other, tension thick between them until Vlad finally broke the heavy silence:

"She cannot find out."

"I know."

"She must not find out."

"I know! But you stay away from her, I'm serious. You won't lay a hand on her. Not even a little finger."

Vlad wasn’t wrong; Danny was just as eager to keep Valerie in the dark —though certainly not at the cost of her life. Valerie was his friend, and beyond that, she was under his protection. The need to keep her safe was supreme.

Vlad’s eyes lingered on the inactive portal across the room. He folded his arms and clicked his tongue against his teeth, as if he'd just been denied a common courtesy.

"Let me handle it," Danny insisted. "Give me some time to figure out what she’s got. I'm sure it's nothing."

"It's certainly not nothing if she went through the trouble to come here and sneak into my lab," Vlad muttered.

"But she hasn’t found anything. Let me talk to her."

Vlad turned back to Danny. His blue eyes, piercing and cold as ice, assessed him sternly. Eventually, he offered a brief, stilted nod and then made his way towards the stairs. Before disappearing and leaving Danny alone, he barked:

"And make sure you finish cleaning up!"

The door slammed shut behind him. Danny released a heavy sigh, slumping forward until his forehead rested against the table. The enameled surface felt cool against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut. What a mess.

He needed a plan. And he needed it fast.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Fifth Weekend

The Dragon

Throughout the week, Danny racked his brains, to the point that staying focused in class became a challenge. He felt constantly distracted and couldn’t stop scribbling half-baked ideas in his notebooks rather than paying attention. This mounting stress proved pointless. By the following weekend, he still had no plan. In the end, the plan came to him when he least expected it.

It was an unusually beautiful Sunday morning —unprecedented for mid-February, according to Lance Thunder's weather report. The sky was a clear blue, free of clouds, and the sun shone so brightly that many people had swapped their hats and scarves for sunglasses and caps. The warmth had also seemingly spread to the hearts of Amity Park's residents, creating a relaxed atmosphere in town, and so it was in high spirits that Danny set out for his customary patrol that morning.

Hovering mid-air above Egon Square, Danny leisurely watched the bustling monthly farmers market below. People strolled among the vibrant stalls, colorful with displays of fruit and vegetables, cheese, fresh bread, honey and jams, as well as handicrafts, jewelry and cute little knitted trinkets.

Near the square's entrance, an old man sat on a chair beside his newsstand. His dog, a large, placid-looking shepherd, stood by a sports magazine rack topped with a poster advertising next week's Super Bowl. When the dog spotted Danny floating some thirty feet above, he began to bark excitedly, his tail thumping the ground with interest. Not wanting to disrupt the peace, Danny promptly turned invisible.

He was about to move on, when a large white fabric tent caught his eye. It was set up next to a stand that stood out from the rest, with a few foldable tables where busy-looking people in purple T-shirts hailed passers-by, leaflets in hands. There was a long banner stretched between two poles that proclaimed: 'Vote Montez, together for Amity Park', and in smaller letters below: ‘Only eight days before the elections, make the right choice!’

The gathering itself wasn’t too surprising, of course. Montez was likely somewhere nearby, making his rounds and shaking as many hands as possible, as was the electoral tradition. A van branded with the Amity News logo was parked at the curb, suggesting the event would probably make the local midday news.

What was completely unexpected, however, was Valerie's presence. He recognized her almost immediately, despite the flashy purple T-shirt she was wearing. Armed with a pair of scissors, she was diligently unpacking a box full of bright badges and arranging them in trays.

Danny tilted his head as he stared at her silhouette in disbelief. Valerie, a political activist? For Montez? Something didn’t add up.

Staying invisible, he landed in the middle of a thick camellia bush at the edge of the square, and a flash later, Danny Fenton casually walked out, hands in his pockets. He approached the gathering and was soon greeted by a volunteer who handed him a leaflet, a badge and a cap, and asked him if he wanted to learn more about Ernesto Montez's ten campaign promises.

"Uh, no, thanks," he replied, accepting the flyer out of politeness but declining the badge and hat. "I just wanted to say hi to my friend."

He motioned towards Valerie, who perked up at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, Danny!" she called out, as the other volunteer shrugged and walked away. "Want a badge?"

Reaching into the box she had been unpacking, she produced a handful of shiny buttons featuring the candidate's profile.

"Nah thanks, my dad would disown me if he ever caught me wearing that," Danny joked, although it wasn't quite a joke.

"Oh, if I'd known you'd be here, I'd have brought your backpack," she said, snapping her fingers. "I still have it, you know."

"Don’t worry about it, there’s no rush," he assured her with a smile. "So… you're into politics now, huh?"

"Well, yeah," she replied, her tone light but her eyes shifting. "I figured it’d be a great way for me to give back to the community."

Danny had a reputation for being clueless, but he wasn’t stupid. And that sounded like a canned excuse if he ever heard one.

"Really? So this has nothing to do with your shenanigans last week at Mast—"

"Shh!" she shushed him, casting a quick glance around to make sure no one had overheard him. "My shena—?! Come with me!"

She rounded the table and grabbed him by the forearm, steering him away from the crowd and her teammates. She led him past the white tent and stopped a bit farther away, near a bench secluded from prying ears. From there, Danny could now see inside the tent, as its sides were partially open. Ernesto Montez sat on a high foldable chair, accompanied by none other than the famous local journalist Tiffany Snow, and her TV crew. A makeup artist was dabbing powder on Montez's face, while Tiffany talked with her assistant, a lanky young man with a long mop of hair cascading over his eyes like an Afghan hound. Danny tore himself away from the scene as Valerie resumed, sounding mildly irritated:

"I told you that what happened needed to stay between us! Why would you blurt stuff like that out on the street? What are you thinking!"

"Okay, I’m sorry," he apologized flatly. "But you still haven't answered the question."

"What question, exactly?"

She folded her arms and lifted her chin, defiant.

"Why didn’t you tell me why you sneaked into Masters’ house the other day?"

"Why does that matter?" she shot back. "I already told you: it was related to my work as the Red Huntress."

"Right, so your newfound interest in politics and your involvement with Montez’s party has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you're spying on his main opponent in the elections, huh?"

At these words, Valerie’s confidence faltered, and she started wringing her hands, stealing glances at Montez's tent.

"I know what you might be thinking…" she began awkwardly.

"Do you? Because I'll tell you anyway: it makes me think that you're spying on Masters for Montez’s benefit, and that you've been feeding me some bullshit story about ghosts just to get me off your back."

"That’s not true! I didn't lie about that!" she burst out, and Danny could see the honest indignation in her eyes.

"So…. you and Ernesto Montez... You expect me to believe it’s just a coincidence?"

"Well, okay, not totally. Montez actually gave me a job..." she mumbled, biting her lower lip. Danny raised an encouraging eyebrow. "I kind of needed it, you know? After losing my old job because of Phantom... And Montez pays better than what I made as a sales associate."

"What job? Spying on his political rival? I never would have thought that you’d—"

"No!" she interjected, clearly offended by the implication. "Well, I guess sort of, but it isn’t what you think! He didn't hire me to sabotage Master’s campaign. It’s not like that…"

"Then what?" he pressed, growing impatient.

Truth was, Danny couldn't care less about the local elections. If Vlad and Ernesto wanted to play spy versus spy, that was the least of his concerns. And even if Valerie had truly been after some dumb communications strategy program or whatever, he couldn't give two shits about it. In fact, it would have been a relief, because it would have meant that her motives were just mundane, not genuinely dangerous.

Valerie seemed to hesitate for a moment, before finally confessing.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"All right."

"Montez wanted my services because he knows I'm an expert in the field. He says that... that Masters isn't human, that he's overshadowed, or that he's being controlled by a ghost, maybe that Wisconsin ghost, or... or by some kind of monster, or a vampire. He says he's seen some disturbing signs; with his own eyes."

Danny winced involuntarily, recalling that morning when Montez had fled Vlad's office as if chased by the devil himself. Danny had warned Vlad… He had told him he had screwed up. Why was it always his job to clean up the mess?

"What? You don't believe me?" Valerie asked, mistaking his annoyance for skepticism.

"You gotta admit, it does sound a bit far-fetched. A vampire? That’s nuts. Plus, they're political opponents, so wouldn’t it make sense for him to spread rumors to try and discredit Masters?"

"Maybe, but he told me that he saw—"

"And you said it yourself: there was nothing in Vlad's lab."

"Yeah, that’s true," she sighed.

Despite having all the facts and logic laid out, she looked torn. She seemed to acknowledge the lack of concrete evidence, but something intuitive prevented her from giving up. It was this instinct that made her an excellent ghost hunter; yet it would also lead to her downfall if she persisted in that dangerous territory.

"Danny, you’ve spent a lot of time around Masters; he's a close friend of your dad’s, isn't he?" she asked, leaning towards him with a serious look on her face. "Have you ever noticed anything strange about him? Like a... feeling, something... different, something creepy?"

Danny made a noncommittal sound. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, though he fully knew what she meant. Unlike Danny, Vlad never completely suppressed his spectral aura. It gave him a subtly intimidating presence, and he reveled in the unsettling effect it had on the average human.

Luckily, he was spared from having to answer when a series of loud shouts suddenly grabbed their attention. The commotion was coming from inside the white tent. Tiffany Snow was screaming at the top of her lungs, and next to her, her assistant stood frozen, a paper cup in his hand. A large brown stain spread across the front of Tiffany's lilac dress.

"Wow, she’s gone mad," Valerie breathed, her eyes glued to the unfolding drama.

That was an understatement: Tiffany was in a full-blown rage, livid with anger as she yelled at her young colleague. The makeup artist who had been working on Montez took a step back, mouth agape as she watched the furious journalist.

Montez got up from his chair, approached Tiffany and gently tapped her elbow. With a leap, she whirled around. Before he could say a single word, she howled like a furious harpy, producing a shriek so shrill and fierce it no longer sounded human. Montez recoiled in horror and stumbled out of the tent. As he staggered away, Danny heard him gasp: "Snake eyes... she has snake eyes!".

"Danny!"

Valerie grabbed his arm and pointed a finger back at the tent. What Montez had meant became obvious.

Tiffany was the stuff of nightmares. Her pupils had turned red and slit, like a reptile’s, and blue scales had sprouted all over her skin, face and arms. Her assistant fainted, spilling the remaining coffee onto his shirt. She bent over the young man's unconscious body and screamed in rage, her forked tongue flicking between rows of sharp, glistening fangs.

A thick gold necklace adorned with an emerald gemstone glinted around her neck. Danny’s heart skipped a beat. How had he missed it?

"I’ve got to stop her!" Valerie yelled.

She pressed a button on her watch and in an instant, pieces of metal, leather and latex shot out of her bag, assembling around her body with impressive precision. Moments later, the Red Huntress stood before him, masked and wielding with an ecto-gun.

"No!" Danny shouted back, grabbing her shoulder.

"Go hide somewhere safe and let me handle this," she demanded, shaking off his grip.

"It's too dangerous!"

"Just go!"

Piercing screams echoed all around them. Their brief exchange had cost them valuable seconds. Tiffany had completed her transformation, and in her place stood a massive blue dragon, with a pair of wings, horns, and a green crest bristling down its back.

The beast flapped its wings and threw back its head, releasing a spine-chilling roar. A spray of green fire erupted from its maw, obscuring the sun and casting a sinister shadow over the plaza.

"Danny, leave!" Valerie ordered.

She jumped onto her hoverboard and, with a kick of her heel, charged at full speed towards the dragon. Seeing Valerie's silhouette, so ridiculously tiny against the huge fire-breathing monster, made Danny's blood run cold. Despite her high-tech equipment, she was no match for it, and Danny knew it. He'd faced Dora in her dragon form in the past, and knew painfully well that this beast was far more formidable than the ghosts the Red Huntress usually dealt with.

He had to act. Fast. He should have known there’d be no point in arguing with Valerie; nothing could make her back down from danger.

He quickly scanned the area around him. It was absolute mayhem. The crowd was wild and shrieking. Panic-stricken people ran in all directions, knocking over tables, shoving stalls, jostling each other in the alleys. His gaze darted across the square, urgently seeking a suitable hiding spot where he could transform safely; he needed something big, or a dark corner, anything. But everywhere, there were people —crying, running, stumbling.

Thinking it was his best option, he sprinted towards the Amity News van. However, at that exact moment, the dragon, now intent on catching Valerie in its claws, sliced through the air with its enormous tail and slammed it down precisely where Danny stood. He made a move to dodge but wasn't quick enough. The tail struck him in the stomach with brutal force.

It was like a cannonball had hit him. The impact knocked the breath out of him and flung him several yards, sending his body hurtling across the square like a rag doll. He hit the van head first, and his skull produced a sickening crack. He slid down the side of the vehicle and collapsed to the ground, his body slack like a disjointed puppet.

Dull at first, the pain quickly intensified until it was unbearable. Something warm and wet began to trickle down his neck. Danny raised a shaking hand. Blood. Was his skull fractured? Black stars danced before his eyes, clouding his vision and threatening to drown him in an ocean of darkness.

Valerie! Through the haze, he could make out her scarlet silhouette lying on the ground. The dragon had knocked her off her hoverboard, and one of her legs was twisted behind her as she crawled.

"No…"

His own voice sounded weak, so weak. The physical pain was excruciating, yet the frantic, obsession-fueled panic over his impending failure made it almost insignificant. He had to protect Valerie. Protect these people. Protect Amity. Protect. Protect. His mind was a broken record, replaying the same compulsive, anguished mantra over and over.

Summoning every last bit of strength, he pushed himself up. This desperate effort triggered a new wave of pain, leaving him panting and drenched in sweat. His body no longer obeyed him.

No, it couldn’t be... He had to move. He had to. Already, the dragon was closing in on Valerie, drawing a deep breath, its bloodthirsty gaze trained on the Huntress trembling at its feet. With cheeks puffed out, smoke billowing from its snout, the dragon was seconds away from—

A powerful ecto-beam struck the beast like a vengeful bolt from the skies. The creature roared and turned to face its new opponent.

Danny's vision had narrowed to a tunnel of shadow and pain, but he saw him. Flying through the air and circling the dragon, he recognized the other Phantom. His... clone?

How had...?

But his mind was floundering in a mud swamp, his thoughts trapped in a thick, compact sludge. With a fleeting spark of lucidity, he realized that someone would eventually find him and certainly send him to the hospital. His skin prickled with a shiver. He couldn't go to the hospital. He absolutely couldn't go to the hospital. It would be a disas—

The black curtain came down.

Nothing made sense anymore, nothing mattered.

When Danny regained consciousness, it happened gradually. His brain felt like a dusty old computer booting up after a long hibernation, and his senses returned one by one. Smooth silky sheets beneath his fingers. A bitter aftertaste in his dry mouth. And silence. Near-total, save for the sound of his own breathing. A faint metallic scent lingered in the air, along with something more pleasant. Perfume? With caution, Danny opened his eyes. The crystal chandelier overhead scattered golden droplets on the walls and ceiling as the setting sun dipped through the tall lattice windows. He was in his room at Vlad's.

Pushing himself up on one elbow, he winced and hissed through clenched teeth as he settled back against the pillows. Gingerly, he reached to the back of his skull. His skin felt oddly cool, and his hair was damp. It wasn't the stickiness of blood; rather, it felt like... water? Confusion washed over him. He probed the area with his fingertips, but the injury was gone. In the spot where he was certain he had been wounded, there was nothing but a tingling sensation.

How had he recovered so quickly? And even more puzzling, how had he ended up back here at all? In his mind's eye, he saw Valerie, lying on the ground, and his enigmatic doppelganger in the sky, challenging the dragon. Then, a black void. His memories stopped there. Who had brought him back? Vlad? It couldn’t have been Valerie. Even if it turned out she was fine, she would have insisted on taking him to the hospital, or at the very least, to his parents'.

He reached into his jeans pocket and found that his cell phone was still there. The home screen informed him that it was past six. Usually, by this time on a Sunday, he’d be on his way back to Wisconsin.

With a swipe of his thumb, he unlocked the phone. Seeing several message notifications from Valerie brought immediate relief; she was okay, or at least, alive. He opened the messaging app, but his phone let out a feeble beep before it gave out. Dead battery.

"Ugh…"

He weakly tapped the useless phone against his chin. His charger was downstairs in the kitchen. Granting himself a few more minutes, he tossed his head back onto the pillows, forearm slung over his eyes.

His thoughts drifted back to Tiffany, a huge, angry dragon spewing green fire into the sky. If only he'd recognized the necklace a little sooner, he might have prevented this mess altogether. Dora had mentioned it... She had warned him that she had lost her necklace somewhere in Amity Park, after her clash with her brother. The epic showdown between the two ghost dragons had occurred a few months prior, and it had been widely covered by local news channels. Tiffany Snow had undoubtedly come into possession of the necklace then. But where was it now...?

With a final sigh, Danny reopened his eyes and forced himself to get up. Despite his exhaustion, he was relatively unscathed aside from a few bruises and muscle aches. He wasn’t one to complain about a good thing, but even for his standards of quick healing, he had recovered remarkably fast.

He stretched, lifting his arms and rolling his shoulders carefully, and felt no pain. Then he wrinkled his nose in distaste —he was dirty, coated in dried sweat and blood. Making his way to the bathroom, he phased through the door and briefly turned intangible to drop his filthy clothes in a heap by the shower.

His charger sat where he'd left it the day before: in the kitchen, plugged in next to one of those shiny chrome appliances that took up a good chunk of the wall. Danny plugged in his phone and leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter, chin cradled in his hands and eyes glued to the small screen as he waited for it to power up.

Before long, the device erupted into a frantic buzz:

[Are you okay!!??] -Val, 11:10am

[Where are you?] -Val, 11:10am

[Please answer Danny] -Val, 11:44am

[I didn't see you leave] -Val, 12:10am

[Are you all right?!!] -Val, 12:11am

[Let me know when you get these messages] -Val, 01:32pm

[???] -Val, 02:01pm

There were about fifteen messages like that, their tone growing increasingly insistent, as well as several missed calls. Danny hurried to write:

                  [Sorry, my battery died] -Danny, 06:35pm

                  [I’m okay] -Danny, 06:35pm

                  [What about you???] -Danny, 06:35pm

He had barely sent the last message when he got a reply:

[Oooh] -Val, 06:35pm

[😣] -Val, 06:35pm

[I was so worried] -Val, 06:36pm

[I saw you getting hit] -Val, 06:36pm

[I looked for you afterwards, but I couldn’t find you] -Val, 06:36pm

[I was afraid something bad happened to you] -Val, 06:36pm

                  [No] -Danny, 06:37pm

                  [All good] -Danny, 06:37pm

                  [I just ran away ] -Danny, 06:37pm

                  [And you???] -Danny, 06:37pm

[Phew!] -Val, 18:38pm

[Yeah, I'm okay too] -Val, 06:39pm

[I sprained my ankle pretty bad though] -Val, 06:39pm

                  [What happened?] -Danny, 06:39pm

[Hmm] -Val, 06:40pm

[🙄] -Val, 06:40pm

[It pains me to say this] -Val, 06:40pm

[But I’m glad Phantom showed up] -Val, 06:40pm

She then forwarded him a video link. Someone had recorded part of the fight from a distance using their phone. The footage was shaky and the mediocre camera struggled to stay in focus, resulting in a blurry image. Despite this, Danny immediately recognized the Red Huntress lying on the ground, the dragon beside her, and Phantom’s nimble silhouette flying through the air. Ugh, phony, he thought in frustration.

With his nose almost touching the screen, he tried to make out the details obscured by the low-quality video. One thing was clear: Phantom was leading the fight. He saw him charging towards a hydrant, unscrewing the top, and then directing the powerful jet of water right into the dragon's open flaming mouth. The image jerked violently away from the scene as the phone’s owner finally bolted and ran, and the footage ended there.

Comments were running wild below the video. As he scrolled through them, Danny realized that most people were praising his doppelganger —or clone, or whatever he really was. But the public's admiration in the comment section tasted distinctly sour. Danny wasn't used to feeling like he was competing against his own image. Still, he had to admit that everything had ended rather well, and that was a huge relief. When he had seen Valerie on the ground with the dragon looming over her, while he was unable to get up... he had feared the worst.

A comment caught his eye and pulled him away from these troubled thoughts. One message, liked by a few others, claimed that Phantom himself had lured the dragon to sabotage Montez’s rally —a clear act of political terrorism, the user insisted. Danny’s disbelieving huff turned into an exasperated groan: there was a reply from @FentonWorks, an account he knew was managed by his mom.

'An interesting theory @IllumiNacho, but ghosts operate on rudimentary instincts. They fight, driven by basic territorial behaviors. Phantom lacks the capacity to discern between political affiliations; his brain is too primitive.'

"What? My brain is just fine, thank you!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Ugh, what a load of bullshit."

"Language."

The voice behind his ear startled him so much that he almost dropped his phone, and the adrenaline surge prompted him to spin around. Vlad was standing right there, leaning slightly over his shoulder, eyeing the cellphone’s screen.

"Vlad! Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that!" he gasped, slapping one hand over his racing heart.

Seeing him so jittery, Vlad straightened up and his lips curled into a smirk. Danny glared. Jazz had often complained about how quietly Danny moved and now he could finally empathize.

He put his phone back in his pocket and, as his heart rate slowed back to normal, he watched with irritation Vlad who strolled to the fridge to grab a bottle of mineral water. For a second, he was highly tempted to freeze it solid before Vlad could pour himself a glass, but he then remembered his lingering questions and resisted the childish urge for revenge, choosing instead to ask:

"Did you see what happened at Egon Square today?"

"I did. I was at your parents' place to discuss the progress my lawyers are making on their case, but I saw the video online. I can already picture the stack of complaints waiting for me on my desk tomorrow morning…."

"So, you weren't there?"

"No. The fight looked intense, but you seemed to be holding your own."

Danny sighed and rubbed the back of his head, where the old wound was now only a slight discomfort. His hair, still damp from the shower, stuck up in wild spikes as he ran his fingers through it.

"Yeah, except it wasn't me."

"You mean…?"

"It was the other guy, yeah. The... the clone?"

"So where were you then?" Vlad asked, clearly intrigued by this turn of events.

"I got hit and blacked out," he admitted, disgruntled. "I don't even remember making it back here. I have no clue what went down."

He shot him a sharp look, as if daring him to slip in a snide comment. But Vlad appeared deep in thought. After a moment, he asked:

"I noticed our mutual friend was also present, hmm?"

He sounded mild, but Danny knew that underneath the composed demeanor, he was keenly alert. With the town elections fast approaching and Fenton Works' legal troubles, Vlad had been swamped with work. They had barely seen each other all weekend and they hadn’t discussed Valerie since the previous week. That had suited Danny just fine, even if he knew there was no chance Vlad would ever just let it go.

"Yeah, Valerie was there too."

"She came to fight the dragon?"

"No, she was there before." Danny hesitated. "She was volunteering for Ernesto Montez's meet-and-greet at the market."

"Excuse me?"

His tone had turned icy and a flash of red flickered through his pupils. Danny met his gaze head-on and said:

"Honestly, this is all your fault."

He filled Vlad in on what he’d discovered: Valerie was digging around for Montez, who had harbored some concerning suspicions about Vlad. Danny couldn't resist a bit of 'I told you so' because, yes, Vlad had screwed up. That little stunt in his office a few weeks earlier had badly rattled his political rival, and instead of keeping a low profile, Montez had counterattacked by hiring the notorious Red Huntress to dig up dirt and uncover the truth.

"So yeah, you’ve brought this mess upon yourself," Danny concluded with a shrug.

Vlad narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Danny knew it, but the situation was equally irritating for him. Vlad’s double-dealing and silly political games had gotten Valerie mixed up in all this.

"This has gone too far," Vlad grumbled. "I'm deploying my spy bugs."

"Remember," Danny warned, his posture stiffening despite his aching limbs. "I've told you, don’t touch—"

"I know." Vlad clicked his tongue impatiently. "This is about Montez. He's spying on me? Fine. Then I'm spying on him."

"Sure, like you weren't doing that already..."

But Vlad had already turned away and he briskly exited the kitchen. Danny rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. Spy bugs. Seriously. Vlad had more than a few screws loose. Poor Ernesto...

Slowly, he made his way back upstairs. He was tired, but he still had to pack his things and fly through the Zone to return to college. He had a test first thing tomorrow morning, on superconductors and superfluids, which was a lot less super than the name implied.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

The Super Bowl

The Amity Park welcome sign —"A Nice Place to Live!"— finally came into view. Danny was stuck in a never-ending traffic jam, humming a cheerful tune as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, while the somber faces of other drivers slowly drifted past.

Sure, he had been returning to Amity Park every weekend. But coming back as Fenton was different. It was his first time back at his parents' house since winter break. Watching the Super Bowl together was something of a family tradition, one his dad especially loved to go all out for —usually with his famous spicy salsa and triple-cheese nachos. With any luck, Maddie would manage to hide his beloved foghorns and vuvuzelas in time this year.

A few minutes later, Danny finally passed the sign marking the city limits, and as he crossed that invisible line, something almost began to buzz in his chest. He was home. Growing impatient, he was tempted to turn the car invisible and intangible and skip the agonizing wait. It would have been easy, he'd done it before. But it was an unnecessary risk, so he reluctantly dismissed the idea and merely squirmed restlessly in his seat. For someone used to racing through the sky at a hundred miles an hour, the traffic felt like an endless parade of asthmatic turtles.

"Surprise!"

"Jazz!"

Danny dropped his bag just in time to catch his sister as she threw herself into his arms the moment he stepped through the front door.

"Hey! I didn't know you’d be here!" Danny exclaimed as she finally let go.

"It’s reading week!" Jazz replied with a grin.

"DANNY! Is that you, son?"

Before he could respond, Jack greeted him with a bear hug so tight Danny swore he felt a couple of his ribs creak.

"Ready for the big game? Go Chiefs, go!"

"Dad, the game's not until Sunday," Jazz reminded him with an eye roll.

It had only been a little over a month since his last visit, but Danny felt a deep sense of joy being back in the family home. Though living with Vlad had mostly gone well, nothing could compare to the feeling of being home, surrounded by family —and in his own haunt, where his territorial imprint was strongest. It was as if the house itself recognized his presence and welcomed him back with open arms.

As they walked further inside, Danny spotted someone else in the living room. Seated in front of the glowing TV, beside a large foam finger that Jack must have dug out of the garage, was a blonde girl with glasses. She gave him a shy smile.

"This is my roommate, Jenny," Jazz explained as they exchanged greetings.

They chatted for a bit and Danny learned that she was a British exchange student from Cambridge, where she was pursuing a dual degree in American and English law. In other words, she fit right in with Jazz’s circle of genius friends. She had never watched an 'American football’ game before, and sounded excited to experience this 'typical American event' with Jazz’s family. Danny doubted their family had anything typical to offer her, but she'd likely realize that soon enough —if the flashy Fenton Works neon signs, the antenna, and the zeppelin-shaped Ops center on the roof hadn't already tipped her off.

"Where's Mom?" Danny asked a few moments later.

"She's downstairs, in the lab," Jazz informed him. "I'll go get her."

"No, don’t worry, I'll go now."

Just as he was about to leave the living room, an image on the TV made him stop in his tracks. The local news had just switched topics, and now Ernesto Montez's face filled the screen. It was his official campaign photo: a three-quarter view, with a broad smile, shoulders squared, and eyes confidently locked on the camera. But what really caught Danny's eye was the caption underneath: "Ernesto Montez: Has the Candidate Lost His Mind?"

"What's that about?" he asked.

Jack hit a button on the remote to turn up the volume.

"[...] several audio recordings have surfaced in which candidate Ernesto Montez is heard making bizarre, conspiratorial statements. The source of these recordings has not been confirmed yet, but multiple insiders have vouched for their authenticity.

In the recordings, Montez makes paranoid and incoherent claims, including seeing the late singer Elvis Presley inside the home of his main election opponent, Vlad Masters, whom he also accuses of being a vampire. He further alleges that the current mayor of Amity Park is using 'robot insects and birds' to spy on him through his windows. When we reached out for a comment, Montez refused, dismissing our journalists as 'reptilians'.

Members of his party, Together!, have expressed 'concern' and emphasized that they are taking their candidate’s mental health very seriously."

The program then moved on to the next story, and Jack lowered the volume as he commented:

"I always knew that Montez had a few screws loose!"

"Yeah... unlike Vlad who’s perfectly sane," Danny muttered.

"Exactly!" Jack exclaimed, the irony flying way over his head.

"It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?" Jazz said. "For this to blow up just one day before the election…"

Nope, Danny thought, nothing strange about that at all. Poor Ernesto. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not doing more to stop Vlad's schemes against the man. Realistically, he knew there wasn't much he could have done, and besides he already had enough on his plate without getting tangled up in political affairs on top of everything else.

He left the others and went down to the lab to see his mom. He found her sitting at the long workbench to the right of the entrance, and for once, she wasn’t deep into an experiment. Instead, she was hunched over a pile of paperwork that sprawled across the entire table. In one corner, a stack of thick books loomed precariously, threatening to topple over any moment. As soon as she heard him arrive, she looked up, set her papers aside, and greeted him with a hug.

"Danny, sweetheart! You're here already. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"It's alright, Mom, I just got here. Are you okay?"

She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes.

"Of course, honey, everything's fine."

Danny didn't need to look at the documents to guess what was weighing on her mind.

"Are you working on the patent case?"

"Yes, but I was just about to take a break."

"Is it... is it getting any better? Vlad and his team are helping you now, aren't they?"

Over the phone, Maddie had repeatedly assured him that they had the situation under control. But in person, she clearly couldn't hide her concern as easily; because the way she pursed her lips immediately betrayed her hesitation.

"Well, yes, without Vlad's help in defending our interests, I think we might have gone out of business a while ago. He’s been a huge help, truly; and right in the middle of the elections too. We’re incredibly grateful, but…"

She seemed to hesitate.

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. You can talk to me. Have the lawyers made any progress?"

"The lawyers are great, they really are…"

"So?"

"I’m afraid that it won’t be enough."

"But… why?"

She sighed, and briefly closed her eyes. Reluctant as she was to discuss her business’s legal problems with her son, the situation was dire enough that it prompted her to continue:

"As you know, we’ve received a cease-and-desist order. Legally, we can no longer market any inventions that use ecto-etheric frequency transfer for spectral resonance fields technology.

"Okay… and? Is that a lot of inventions?" Danny asked, though he already knew the answer.

"About half of our current tools, and nearly everything we developed for ecto-defense. And that also includes all the installations we’ve already sold to the city."

"But it doesn't make any sense! How can they force you to do this? When all this stuff is yours! Everyone knows you invented it!"

"Well, the Patent Office doesn't see it that way. We’re not listed as the rightful owners of the patent. Someone else beat us to filing it a few months ago."

"But how could this happen? I thought Dad just forgot to mail a letter or something? I don't get it…"

"It's complicated, we're not entirely sure ourselves. By the time we realized what had happened, it was already too late."

"That's crazy," Danny said. "Can they really just steal intellectual property like that? Don’t you need documents, proof? Files, research reports, technical blueprints?"

Danny only had a vague idea of the process, but the idea of someone blatantly stealing what his parents cherished the most — their inventions, their genius— revolted him to the core.

"Of course," Maddie sighed, nodding with resignation. "And that's the crux of it. The other party filed the patent properly, with all the required documentation."

"Then who...? Who could have had access to all this besides you guys?"

"That's where we hit a wall: we don't know. If we did, it would make things a lot easier. But whoever it is, they’re hiding behind fake names, shell companies... I have to admit, it's hard to keep track."

Danny frowned, methodically thinking the situation over. Follow the money. Who stood to gain? In the past, Vlad would have been his prime suspect, but things were different now. His ghost enemies were more into creating cheddar mega-monsters in the grocery store dairy aisle —or whatever absurd scheme they dreamed up that week. Red tape mischief was hardly their style.

"I'm not telling you this to worry you, honey. I just want you to understand that right now... well, things are a bit tricky, but—"

"It sounds a lot more serious than 'a bit tricky'," he interrupted. Her attempt to downplay the situation irked him, as if she didn’t think he could handle the harsh truth. Vlad's warning echoed in his mind. He'd hoped Vlad was exaggerating, but… "You're facing bankruptcy, aren't you?"

"Danny..." she began, her tone meant to comfort. But seeing his determined expression, she gave in: "Well, yes, it's a possibility. There's a chance we might need to sell the house..."

Sell the house? No way! It was unthinkable! The idea of his parents losing everything they’d worked their whole lives for —the family home, the place where he'd grown up— was unbearable. Another fear, stemming from Phantom's deep territorial instincts, magnified his horror. A chilling sense of dread crept down his spine like icy slime.

"Feels a bit chilly all of a sudden, doesn't it?," Maddie remarked with a shiver.

Danny pulled back his spectral aura, but the weight of the potential catastrophe was stifling.

"Come on, let's not dwell on this," she decided firmly, slapping her thigh. "Let’s enjoy the weekend. How about we join the others upstairs?"

Danny nodded weakly, trying to regain his composure as he followed her up the stairs. But his anxious thoughts clung to him like a dark shadow, worry weighing heavily on his mind.

The next day, Danny spent most of the afternoon in the garage. First, because his dad needed help finding his inflatable football —the giant one with his face printed on it—, and then to clean up the mess, after they declared it officially missing —most definitely stolen by a ghost, Jack decided.

Sunday morning was set aside for homework, but despite his best efforts, Danny found himself easily distracted. He finally gave up on his books after lunch, and sprawled out on his bed to play an online mobile game where the goal was to swallow other players and climb to the top of the leaderboard.

He was about to take first place when a faint, energetic ripple brushed his senses. It was so subtle he might have missed it if he hadn't been in his own home. The ecto-energetic vibration was too muted to set off his ghost sense. It was also familiar —Vlad, in human form, had just entered the house.

"Danny! Vlad's here! Come say hello," Maddie called needlessly from the first floor.

He grumbled under his breath, his eyes still glued to his phone’s screen. Normally, Vlad's arrival never failed to raise his hackles, sparking an instinctive territorial urge to keep tabs on his movements. This time, though, he realized he mostly felt indifferent about the other half-ghost's presence.

A few minutes later, another player took out his character, ending his game. Still lying on his bed, he buried his face in the comforter and groaned in defeat. He turned his head, gave a guilty glance to his neglected textbooks on the desk, and then slipped his phone back into his pocket and got up.

As Danny descended the stairs to the foyer, he saw Vlad shaking Jenny's hand while Jazz made introductions. When Vlad noticed him, he turned to say hello, and as usual, he briefly flexed his aura across the room. It was a deliberate provocation, like walking into someone's house and tracking mud all over the carpet. Yet for once, the jab felt more teasing than truly offensive. Danny returned the greeting, his expression neutral as he amplified his own aura in response, letting his spectral presence resonate at a frequency traditionally used for staking territory. This is my turf, Plasmius, he seemed to say —and Danny caught the fleeting smirk on Vlad’s face, just before Jack grabbed him for a hearty welcome hug.

"Jazz, you didn't tell me your dad's friend was Vlad Masters," Jenny whispered urgently.

Her mouth hung open and her wide eyes followed Vlad, as if she couldn't believe that the actual Vlad Masters was right there in the same room.

"Oh, I didn’t think about it. Yeah, I guess Vlad’s pretty well-known, isn’t he? Jazz replied, considering her friend's dumbstruck expression.

"Pretty well-known?" she repeated in disbelief. "Are you joking? He's a billionaire, and he’s regularly in the news! My teacher was just talking about him last week!"

"Your teacher?"

"Many legal cases involving VladCo are very relevant for study," she explained.

"Yeah, I’ll bet, given all the shady stuff they're mixed up in," Danny chuckled from beside the two girls.

Although they spoke in hushed tones, Danny was certain Vlad could easily catch every word. The quick, indignant glance he shot their way confirmed this theory.

"There are many top lawyers and firms that have worked on those cases," Jenny insisted, turning to face him. "The way VladCo always manages to come out on top is famous. It's inspiring."

"Yeah, inspiring, sure," Danny muttered, thinking of Montez's unfortunate fate.

His eyes followed Vlad as Jack escorted him into the living room. Jenny leaned in again, and resumed in another excited whisper:

"Do you think I could ask him about an internship in his legal department?"

"I don't know, Jenny," Jazz replied, looking concerned. "Vlad can be a bit…"

She let her sentence hang in the air, but the look on her face suggested the word she had in mind was hardly flattering.

"Ah, it’s okay, Jazz," Danny objected with a shrug. "He hasn’t been that bad lately."

His sister raised her eyebrows so high they almost disappeared under her bangs. But before she could retort, Maddie's voice called from the kitchen, cutting through their conversation:

"Kids! Could you come and give me a hand please!"

Dragging their feet, they trudged toward the kitchen. True to his annual tradition, Jack had wanted to make his favorite snacks: fudge, nachos and corn dogs —in enough quantity to feed a small army. As always, his enthusiasm was evident in the chaos that surrounded his work, whether in the lab or in the kitchen, and it looked like a small tornado had blown through.

"Danny, take the drinks and glasses to the living room, please. And Jazz, the nachos are ready, take those too, okay? Be careful, they’re hot." Maddie then furrowed her brow. "You wouldn't happen to know where your father might have left all the kitchen towels, would you?"

Danny and Jazz shook their heads.

"I can help you look, Mrs. Fenton," Jenny offered immediately.

With their arms full, Danny and Jazz left the kitchen, leaving Maddie and Jenny to hunt for the missing towels.

"I hope none of this is ecto-contaminated," Jazz mumbled as she eyed the dish in her hands.

In the living room, Jack was animatedly explaining something to Vlad, who looked less than impressed. He gestured wildly, mimicking an explosion with his hands while blowing a raspberry for added sound effect, and Danny could easily guess the topic of their conversation. The night before, his dad had accidentally blown up the outdoor trash can while attempting to install a ghost-repellent diffuser inside it. There had been a recent uptick in ghost racoons in the neighborhood, and in theory, it had sounded like a good idea. Danny was recalling the disaster when a sudden flash of something green and orange in his dad’s hands made him to flinch reflexively:

"Dad!"

Jack had pulled out a hideous, brightly colored wallet from his pocket and was handing it to Vlad. It was the latest prototype of the "Paws-Off-Spook" wallet —just as unpleasant to look at as it was to touch. At least, it was easily recognizable. Jack turned to Danny, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Mom needs you in the kitchen. She's, um... —she's looking for... something."

Jack seemed confused, then disappointed, and let his hand drop to his side. He slipped the wallet back into his pocket and headed toward the kitchen. Danny finished arranging the soda bottles on the coffee table and, once his dad was out of earshot, he said to Vlad:

"That thing would have given you a nasty shock. Don’t touch it."

"I had no intention to," Vlad assured, though he glanced worriedly toward the door where Jack had just disappeared.

Danny was about to flop onto the sofa, hoping his mom wouldn't call for him again, but instead, Jazz cleared her throat.

"Danny. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Without Vlad, was the unspoken part.

"Ugh, what? Now?" he moaned, pulling a face.

Jazz nodded and then strode off with purpose, a command to follow more than an invitation. He sighed as he trailed after her.

"What's up?"

"Wait."

Jazz led him into the laundry room and shut the door behind them. The room smelled like fabric softener, and the dryer droned softly in the background, with a muffled beat of drumming and metal clinking. Jazz was well aware of a half-ghost's enhanced hearing abilities, and it was no accident that she'd chosen this room. She turned to face him, hands on her hips, her eyes sharp. The resemblance to Maddie was striking.

"Okay, what’s going on with Vlad?"

"What?"

"Just now: 'Oh, it's okay Jazz, Vlad's not so bad'", she mimicked in an exaggeratedly gruff voice, parodying her brother. "And now you're distracting Dad so Vlad doesn't get zapped? What gives?"

Danny smiled. He should have seen this conversation coming. Jazz had always been very perceptive. After all, she was the only one who figured out his secret all those years ago, all those years ago, while all the adults around them had remained clueless.

"Well, the wallet's no joke. This thing stings like hell…"

"It’s not about the wallet," she cut him off. "You know what I mean. Normally, you'd be the first to push Dad to show it to him. Something's changed."

Danny didn’t bother denying it. He told her about his deal with Vlad and how he had been spending every weekend at Vlad's house since school had started again. He tried to convey how the arrangement was mutually beneficial, but the specifics were obviously confusing for a human. Jazz, who approached everything from a psychologist's perspective, struggled to understand the instincts driving his supernatural nature. Once again, the gap between their realities was made painfully obvious when she asked, hesitantly:

"I thought school was going better? And that you didn't need to come back anymore, because you had learned to manage your anxiety and—"

Danny felt a mix of amusement and impatience. It wasn't her fault she didn’t get it, he reminded himself.

"Jazz, I already told you. It's not something I can simply 'overcome' or 'learn to deal with’."

"Okay, okay," she relented, lifting her hands in surrender. "I guess I should've known you hadn’t stopped coming back to Amity Park. I saw that online video the other day, the one where you fought that dragon."

"Ah, yeah… That wasn't me, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"It wasn't me," he repeated. "Remember what happened on Christmas Eve, with the jewelry store at the mall? Yeah, that wasn’t me either, like I said. There's... an impostor. Some ghost who takes my appearance and pretends to be me. It’s a real pain."

He kept his tone light, as if it were just a minor inconvenience, some pesky trickster who had found a new way to bug him. He refrained from mentioning Vlad's theory. Jazz would likely be as horrified by the idea as he was, and he didn't want to ruin the day.

"Really?" she frowned. "I could have sworn it was you. He moves and fights just like you."

"You… you think so?"

An uneasy feeling crept over him. He hadn't thought about that.

"Well, at least he did the right thing, didn’t he? He won the fight and saved the day. No one got hurt", Jazz reasoned. "And everyone seemed pretty grateful in the comments."

"Mmmhm," Danny nodded without much enthusiasm. He was far from being convinced that his doppelganger was one of the good guys. Even though he was glad things had ended well, the whole identity theft thing left a bitter taste in his mouth. He shrugged. "Sure. Phantom hasn’t been winning any popularity contests lately, so I guess there’s a silver lining."

Jazz's serious expression softened, and she considered him with a gentle look in her eyes. Whatever she saw seemed to please her because she broke into a smile.

"You look so much better than you did at Christmas. Look, I’ll never be able to trust Vlad, but I trust you, Danny. Besides, maybe you're right... I mean, he’s been helping mom and dad. For real this time, by the looks of it."

"It’s been easier since we made that deal," Danny admitted. "And I wasn’t lying about school; I really am doing better now. No skipped classes, no missed assignments."

Jazz's smile widened. If anything could convince her, it was good grades and solid performance. Vlad, dragons, mysterious doppelgangers? Whatever—as long as the report card was stellar.

Above the soft hum of the tumble dryer, their dad’s booming voice suddenly reached them from the other side of the door:

"Jazz! Danny! Danny! Where are you? Hurry up, it's almost kick-off time!"

The game was a nail-biter, and the Chiefs' narrow win over the Eagles kept everyone on the edge of their seats. None of them were particularly fans of either team, but Vlad had a soft spot for Marquez Valdes-Scantling, a former Green Bay Packer now playing for the Kansas City Chiefs. So naturally, he had thrown his support behind the Chiefs, and besides, he had said, he wasn’t about to cheer for the Eagles after Aaron Rodgers got injured playing against them earlier in the season.

As always, Jack was more than happy to back Vlad's choices, and he cheered and clapped enthusiastically alongside his best friend, when Harrison Butker's kick secured the Chiefs' victory with just eight seconds left on the clock.

In the end, the suspense had everyone riveted —except maybe for Jenny who, despite the explanations, didn't seem to understand much about the game and was more interested in the halftime show.

When the night wound down, Vlad said his goodbyes, and everyone else headed to bed. But not Danny. He was determined to tackle the homework he'd put off earlier, even if it meant staying up late.

It must have been around two in the morning when he finally closed his books. He stretched in his chair and felt his stiff back crack. After a long yawn, he stood up, left his room and hobbled down the stairs to the first floor. He was on his way to the kitchen to get a cold drink, when he froze in his tracks.

He had heard a noise —like a crash, muffled and distant. His eyes locked onto the door that led to the lab. The sound had come from there. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Danny momentarily made himself intangible, just long enough to phase through the door. Perfectly silent, he descended the stairs, his feet barely brushing the steps, his breath still in his lungs. The stairwell was pitch dark, with only the faint emerald gleam of his eyes piercing the shadows. He couldn’t hear any voices, but it sounded like someone was moving things around further below.

Reaching the bottom, he stealthily rounded the corner —and every muscle in his body tensed.

It was the other Phantom. Just a few feet away, his translucent form casting a ghostly glow around him. He hadn't noticed Danny yet, too absorbed in the documents scattered across the table —the same ones that had kept his mom so busy the day before.

A jolt of realization hit him, like a lightning bolt striking a tree. Could this guy have been behind his parents' problems all along? What if, for some reason he still didn't understand, he had been the one messing with Fenton Works? The details were still fuzzy in his mind, but the thought solidified and he felt a sudden certainty: this impostor was involved, somehow, someway.

"It's you!" Danny blurted out.

He had lost the element of surprise, but it didn't matter. The sudden realization had wiped away any semblance of strategy, leaving only a simmering anger.

His doppelganger gasped and turned around. A paper slipped from his hands as he froze, eyes wide at the sight of Danny.

"I know what you're thinking," the other said hurriedly. "But I wasn't spying on their legal stuff. I was just…"

His voice trailed off. A peculiar expression clouded his features; as if he'd lost his train of thought mid-sentence. He was now staring at him with an expression that Danny couldn't quite decipher, even though it was written on his own face.

Danny clenched his jaw. Oh, but he knew that look. Guilty. Caught-red-handed. The other realized how flimsy his lie was, and that Danny saw right through him. With each passing moment, his certainty grew. The very fact that he had mentioned spying was proof enough that this snoop had been poking around where he shouldn’t. A surge of protective instinct seized him as a bright light flared from his waist, transforming him into his ghost half.

Now, two Phantoms stood facing each other. The milky halos of their figures shed a dim light amidst the darkness, like twin moons in an inky-black sky. Then, a burst of light filled the room.

BOOM!

Danny had fired a powerful ecto-blast. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes or witty banter. But although he had attacked without warning, the other dodged with lightning-fast reflexes. In one nimble leap into the air, he avoided the ecto-energy beam which slammed into the table. The books stacked on top flew in all directions, crashing against the walls and floor with heavy thuds.

"Stop!" his doppelganger demanded, hovering several feet above the ground.

Ignoring the warning, Danny followed suit and took to the air, charging at full speed towards his opponent, his fists blazing. He hurled a hail of crackling ecto-spheres, each one of them glowing bright with destructive ecto-energy. Again, the other executed a series of loops and turns, evading every blow with effortless grace.

Undeterred, Danny extended his palms and unleashed a continuous stream of ecto-beams, one after another. This relentless assault went on for several minutes, but always, the other Phantom dodged with uncanny agility. Danny groaned. No matter how strong his attacks were, he hadn't managed to land a single hit. It was unbelievable. He just couldn’t seem to gain even a split-second advantage. In spite of this, the other still didn't retaliate, seemingly content to twist and weave as he flew through the lab.

"This is ridiculous," the doppelganger muttered, his long, spectral tail trailing behind him.

For no apparent reason, he paused abruptly. Without missing a beat, Danny seized the opportunity, charging his fists and aiming them precisely at his opponent. He released the ecto-energy burning in his hands, absolutely certain the ecto-blast would hit him dead on this time. And then—

Something happened. Something that made no sense at all.

The other.... vanished. There was no other way to put it. No sound, no smoke, no lightning —nothing. A fraction of a second earlier, he had been floating right in front of him, about to be struck by his ecto-blast. An instant later: evaporated. Poof. Gone. Nothing.

No! Not nothing!

Danny sucked in a sharp breath.

There was a hole, right there! Or rather, a portal. No larger than the palm of his hand. It was collapsing, shrinking. About to close up. Without a second thought, Danny threw himself through it like a bullet, compressing his spectral form to squeeze into the interdimensional gap, now the size of a quarter.

He barely made it through before the portal snapped shut behind him. Immediately, he spun around, fists clenched, his eyes darting around in search of the other Phantom.

He was in the Ghost Zone. The luminescent wisps and the green milky way stretching into infinity made that much clear. The instant surge in atmospheric ecto-energy hit him like an electric jolt. He felt his spectral aura expand in response, the need to protect and to fight burning with painful intensity in his chest. For several tense minutes, he scoured the sector, desperate to confront his enemy. But he found no one, even though the other couldn’t have hidden far in this stark, desolate landscape.

Frustration mounted as Danny flew back and forth, roaming the area. How could he have disappeared so quickly? He hadn't let him out of his sight. Had he teleported away?

However he managed to escape, the point was that he was well and truly gone. After a while, the adrenaline from the fight and chase ebbed away, and gradually, Danny began to take stock of his surroundings. Usually, he could identify at least a few landmarks —a distant island, the ornate carvings on a floating door, or even the distinctive feel of a particular area. This time though, Danny realized that he hadn’t the faintest idea of where he was. He did, however, perceive a faint disturbance in the atmosphere. It felt strangely ominous. Something very unusual haunted this part of the Zone.

Resuming his flight, he picked a direction at random in hopes he’d eventually come across something familiar to help him get his bearings. There were several islands nearby, most of them deserted, except for one in the distance, with some kind structure that looked like a church beneath a cloud of dark stars. He hesitated, debating whether to approach, but decided against it —he didn’t feel like asking unknown and potentially hostile ghosts for directions. A minute later, he was struck by a much better idea.

There was an easier way to get out of here. He'd done it before, surely he could do it again.

Danny stretched out his hands and closed his eyes, focusing intently on the soft magnetic vibration that pulsed around him. He wiggled his fingertips. Matter rippled, like gentle waves on a lake. He knew this. He could do it. Visualize. Amity Park.

He spread his fingers wider and pulled. Something crackled. He opened his eyes again, without releasing his hold, and a triumphant smile spread across his face. A circle, its wavering edges shimmering in the dark, had just opened up —like a porthole in the sky, through which Danny immediately recognized his hometown.

He crossed to the other side. Almost instantly, a sense of unease crept into the back of his mind. Something was terribly wrong. He floated high in the sky —a clear blue sky with the midday sun shining bright above. That in itself was unexpected. Granted, time followed its own rules in the Ghost Zone; and while it was unlikely, it was still possible that several hours had passed in the human world. But that wasn't just it.

Far below, hundreds of feet beneath him, Danny recognized Egon Square. The plaza was bustling with colorful market stalls. Danny watched people leisurely strolling, looking barely bigger than ants from this height. He hovered there, mouth slightly open, arms limp at his sides. He had never experienced such intense déjà vu. And yet, it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he spotted a white tent in one corner of the square.

Valerie stood near a bench, not far from the big tent. He recognized her immediately. She was wearing a purple T-shirt, her thick hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she was chatting with... She was chatting with him. With Danny.

The thought that he had to be in some kind of ultra-realistic dream crossed his mind.

He shook his head and rubbed his face. This wasn't a dream. It really was him. That day. It was—

But just as an outlandish theory began to form in his mind, loud noises shattered the quiet. Though he was high in the air, he heard a particularly piercing scream rise and fall, soon followed by a hoarse, spine-chilling roar. Danny floated in place, petrified, a powerless observer of a scene he had already lived through once before. His eyes remained locked on the two figures below. He saw —he saw himself— grabbing Valerie's arm, and watched as she wrenched herself free from his grip.

Seconds later, a massive blue dragon appeared, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of panicked cries. The beast opened its jaws, screeching and growling, and spewed a long stream of green fire at the sun, its wings beating furiously. The Red Huntress sprang into action, racing toward the threat on her hoverboard, helmet down, ecto-gun in hand.

Danny knew what was about to happen. How could he not? He'd seen this before. The crowd was yelling, crying, running in all directions. His eyes caught the familiar shape of a white van. The Amity News van. Yes, he knew. That was when he had—

BANG!

Danny winced in pain as he watched himself slam into the side of the vehicle. From his vantage point, the impact looked even more brutal. Tiffany's tail had flung him across the square with tremendous force, and he vividly recalled the sharp pain, the disorientation, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

The dragon swiped its clawed paw at Valerie, knocking her off her hoverboard. She scrambled on the ground, desperately crawling away from the menacing creature looming over her.

Danny scanned the sky. Any second now, the other guy would…

Realization hit him like a hook sinking deep into his gut, and he had a dazzling, mind-blowing epiphany.

A gigantic rush of adrenaline broke the chains of his paralysis. Running on pure instinct, he lunged into action. He charged at the beast, arms outstretched, and before he could even consciously call on his powers, his hands were already glowing and firing a powerful ecto-beam right into the dragon’s face.

It was him! He was the one who had saved Valerie —he'd saved everyone! Right from the start, he —

Danny abandoned trying to process the thought as another burst of flames nearly scorched him. He focused on the fight. He knew how to win, of course he did: he'd watched the footage of his own victory just a few days ago. Part of him acknowledged the flaw in this logic, yet he had never been more certain. He knew exactly what to do.

He banked sharply, skillfully dodging an angry, clawed paw swiping in his direction. Then, he threw a few feints, hoping to draw the beast's attention fully onto himself and away from Valerie. Once he was sure Tiffany's focus was entirely on him, he unleashed a rapid flurry of ecto-blasts. Seizing a momentary advantage, he dove towards the fire hydrant at the corner of the sidewalk. Despite never having used such a system before, he found the cap no match for his superhuman strength —it yielded easily, and water began gushing out with force. The dragon wasn’t far behind, its mouth gaping wide, a bright green spark growing larger in the back of its throat. Danny's nerves were frayed. With a quick, precise motion, he aimed the water jet straight at the creature’s open maw.

Bull's-eye!

His hands, glowing bright with ecto-energy, turned the water into an icy stream that flooded right into its mouth and steaming guts.

With its throat soaked and freezing, the dragon coughed out a few pitiful puffs of smoke. Then, it collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain, paws pressed against its snout as it writhed miserably. Finally, with a final shudder, the animal transformed, its shape shrinking until it was replaced by Tiffany's curled-up, human body.

Danny rushed to her side. He placed one intangible hand on the back of her neck to remove the necklace, while helping her to her feet with the other. Tiffany seemed shaken but wasn't injured; she wobbled for a moment before getting her balance back. An ambulance had just pulled up to the curb and paramedics hurried towards them. Leaving her to the care of the medical team, Danny walked away and scanned the area urgently. He needed to hurry up and find…

"Hey, Phantom!"

He turned at the sound of the familiar voice. It was Valerie. She was on her feet, albeit with difficulty, and she limped toward him. Her mask was pulled down, revealing an unusually pale complexion.

"You did great," she said.

"Val! You need to get checked out by the paramedics. Your foot...."

He reached to support her by putting his shoulder under her arm, but she fiercely swatted him away.

"I’m fine, it’s nothing. There are other people who need help more than I do. And I need to find someone. My friend. I saw him get hit, but now I have no idea where he is."

"Your... friend?"

A loud buzzing filled his ears as he stared at Valerie, no longer hearing her words as she described Fenton. She looked worried, biting her lower lip every so often. Clearly, if it weren't for her injured ankle, she'd probably be out there searching for poor Danny herself.

"This is so... weird," Danny breathed, bewildered. There was another version of himself, another Danny. The one who'd crashed into the Amity News van. Not a clone, not a doppelganger. Him. "I feel like my head’s about to explode. This is insane."

"Huh? What?" Valerie asked.

"Everything..." Danny said, looking around as if seeing his surroundings in a new light. And in a way, he was, and yet he wasn’t. "I... I've lived through all this before. Except, not really. Or well, I did, but from a different point of view, I guess. I don't know how to explain it."

"Are you feeling okay, Phantom? Valerie asked. "Did you hit your head?

"No...," Danny chuckled softly. "I think... I think I've traveled back in time, Val! I don't know how it's possible, but I'm in the past!"

"Uh…"

He shrugged off her half-skeptical, half-concerned look, and laughed, amazed. He couldn’t believe it! This was incredible! He gestured toward the banner still stretched between two poles behind Montez's stand.

"‘Only eight days before the elections'? But the election's tomorrow!" he exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing. Then he pointed to the newsstand and the large poster advertising the upcoming Super Bowl. "What about that?! I just watched the game! The Chiefs won 35-38, my dad sang all night. I'm not crazy!"

"Uh, sure."

"I've gotta get back —but first…"

Danny instinctively glanced toward the spot where he remembered passing out.

"Phantom, maybe you should —HEY!"

In a flash, Danny slid one arm behind Valerie's knees and the other around her back, effortlessly lifting her up with a gentleness that belied his strength. Valerie let out a startled yelp and demanded to be put down, but before she could protest further, he had already whisked them over to the medical team.

"Please help her," Danny urged one of the paramedics who turned to them in surprise at their sudden arrival. "I’m sorry, Val. I’ll be in touch, okay?"

She growled something that sounded suspiciously like an insult, but Danny pretended not to hear. He knew Valerie’s pride wouldn’t easily forgive being carried off like that, and he was pretty sure she’d stay mad at him for a while. But he just couldn’t afford to waste another second.

Ironically, time was running out.

He had to find himself right now, otherwise someone would end up noticing the young man lying on the ground, bleeding from the head. Everything was crystal clear, now. He'd initially thought himself lucky to have avoided the hospital, but luck had had nothing to do with it. Logic didn’t either, clearly, but he could already sense this entire ordeal turning into a monumental headache —he might as well save that pleasure for later.

He easily located the Amity News van. Thankfully, the onlookers were still reluctant to venture out, and no one was around. Danny Fenton was slumped against the side of the van, a thin trickle of blood running from his ear down to his collarbone and disappearing under his T-shirt. For a moment, the strangeness of the situation made his head spin.

Carefully, he lifted the body —his body—, and checked the back of his head. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. Just as he had feared, his skull was cracked. If he were a normal human, an injury like this would have likely been fatal. As it was, his body was fighting with all it had to heal itself and keep him alive. This was bad. He had to hurry.

He turned them invisible, then shot up into the sky, heading to Vlad's house as fast as he could without risking further harm. He knew Vlad would still be at his parents' place at this hour, so he didn't bother masking his presence as he phased through the front wall. He passed through several rooms, before sinking down through the floor to reach the lab. There, he laid his body on a clean workbench and looked around. Having recently organized the entire lab, he knew exactly where to find what he needed.

Vlad kept a well-stocked supply of medical equipment, including a jar labeled "ecto-regenerating cream," which seemed like just the thing. After carefully cleaning the head wound, he applied a generous amount of it. His current skull depended on it, after all. He also found an achillea spectrum-based serum, which had a minty, refreshing scent, and added a few drops for good measure.

An actual doctor would likely have been appalled by his amateur efforts, but Danny knew his body healed quickly. By the time he finished, he congratulated himself on a job well done. He put the medicines back where in their place, then scooped his past self up and flew him to his room.

He laid his body on the bed, making sure to rest his head carefully on the pillows, then stood back to look at himself for a moment. The Danny from the past was breathing slowly, his lips slightly parted, unaware of the paradox unfolding.

Danny leaned in and scanned the features of his own face.

"This is so weird."

Even though this Danny was in human form, while he was currently Phantom, the other's ghost sense hadn't triggered once. What had puzzled him for long now finally made sense. His ghost sense simply didn't react to his own ecto-signature. Duh.

Danny took one last look at his past self on the bed. Alright, what now? He’d better get back home. To the present… future?

At the thought of home, a brilliant idea struck him. His parents were at risk of losing their house and business. And why? It all went back to that letter his dad had misplaced months ago. He could fix that! Just like he’d done with the dragon!

Excitement bubbled up inside Danny as he closed his eyes, extended his arms, and focused intently on one single thought: the past. The second week of September, the day his dad was supposed to have sent the application file —it had been the day before Danny had left for Madison. That’s what Jack had said.

Danny had grown up with Tucker as his best friend. Of course he'd seen Star Trek and Doctor Who, and read comics like X-Men: Days of Future Past, Flashpoint, and countless others. In movies and comics, time travel stories rarely worked out the way the hero hoped.

But this was different, wasn't it? He was acting only to help his parents. A slight doubt lingered, but before he could second-guess himself, a shimmering portal appeared at his fingertips. Danny held his breath and inspected the round opening. It led to his parents' house. Good. Did he get the date right?

Well. No time like the present…

He leapt through the temporal tear.

The Fenton Works lab was pitch-black, except for the light spilling out from the open portal behind him, a gateway to his room at Vlad’s place —back in the past. Danny landed on the floor and quickly surveyed the lab. He took in the long workbench to the right of the entrance, cluttered with papers and books. A sinking feeling twisted his gut. He stepped closer and picked up the calendar his mom used to track birthdays. The days were all crossed off up until…

Sunday, February 12.

He had failed. He had gone back to the moment he had left just hours earlier. This was Sunday night, Super Bowl night.

His shoulders slumped. The disappointment was so strong that his mental hold on the time portal faltered. The opening abruptly shrank into nothingness, plunging him into near-total darkness. He flinched at the sudden loss of light.

"Damn it," he hissed.

His elbow caught the edge of the stack of books, sending the unsteady tower teetering. He made a move to steady it, but it was too late. The heavy volumes came crashing down. With a frustrated sigh, he bent down to pick them up. Only his ghostly halo gave off a faint opalescent glow around him.

Okay, so. He had failed, but things weren’t so bad, he mused. What did he know? Maybe this was normal? He had no clue how this new power worked. Perhaps he always needed to return to his starting point, before he could make another jump in time?

As he placed the last book back on the table, his gaze was drawn to one of the documents. He picked it up. United States Patent and Trademark Office. Right, he needed to help his parents. He could do this.

"It's you!"

He started, and spun toward the voice coming from his right.

A few feet away, near the bottom of the stairs, stood a figure he recognized immediately. Once again, he found himself staring at his own face, twisted in anger this time. He momentarily froze, and the document slipped from his fingers, falling quietly to the ground.

In that instant, everything clicked. It was almost too much to process. Reality had taken on a sharp yet surreal quality, and his brain was surely going to melt. This had all happened a few hours ago. He was reliving the scene, only this time... He was... He was the other guy. The one he'd taken for an impostor, a clone —a spy?

"I know what you're thinking," he rushed to explain. "But I wasn't spying on their legal stuff. I was just…"

The rest of his sentence caught in his throat as a wave of the strongest déjà vu he'd ever experienced crashed over him. His ears started ringing and his vision tunneled. He had both heard and spoken these words before. He was simultaneously himself and the other. It had always been this way. Oh yeah, his brain was definitely melting.

A bright white light snapped him out of his daze. The Danny of the past had just gone ghost. And he knew what came next.

BOOM!

Danny dodged the attack almost before it was launched, soaring toward the ceiling. There was a resounding crash, and he knew that the books he’d just carefully restacked were scattered across the floor again.

"Stop!" he shouted, equal parts desperate and irritated.

It was useless, of course. He remembered all too well the anger he’d felt when he first saw this supposed imposter —this guy who had clearly been spying down here and might even be responsible for his parents’ troubles.

Evading the incoming ecto-blasts and attacks was almost too easy. Now he understood how the other had dodged so effortlessly. Nothing could be simpler. He was facing his own fighting style and tactics, because he was his own opponent. It felt almost like performing a choreographed routine. With fluid grace and agility, Danny darted from side to side, bending and somersaulting to evade each ecto-blasts the other hurled at him with growing fury. It was amusing in a way, but also frustrating. The other wasn’t giving him a chance to speak. Why had he been so hardheaded?

"This is ridiculous," he grumbled.

Ridiculous.

The words echoed from the past.

His flight through the lab came to a screeching halt. It was right after the other had said that, that he had inexplicably vanished.

As the thought crossed his mind, a strange numbness crept over him, like a thick fog wrapping around his brain. He shook his head hard and blinked rapidly. Then a surprised yelp escaped him.

In front of him, the other Danny was frozen in mid-air, suspended like a statue. His fist glowed a brilliant green, the budding spark of an ecto-beam ready to launch in his direction. But the attack didn't come. It just hung there, motionless.

This had to be one of the weirdest things he'd ever seen, he thought in awe, watching the other Danny, his features locked in anger, paralyzed mid-action.

A golden glint on his chest caught his eye, and he became aware of an unusual weight around his neck.

"What the…?"

He looked down and, to his surprise, saw a large necklace hanging around his neck—a necklace he definitely hadn’t been wearing a moment ago. He grabbed the medallion dangling from the chain and turned it over.

There was a symbol.

CW.

"Good evening, Danny Phantom."

Danny jolted, spinning around and dropping into a defensive stance.

A tall, blue-skinned ghost floated before him, draped in a purple cape and hood. He held a long scepter in his right hand, but it was his chest that captured Danny’s attention. His ribcage was hollow, like a grim display case with a glass panel on hinges. Inside, intricate clocks, pendulums, gears, and cogs moved in minute, delicate motions. It was both captivating and nightmarish.

Danny forced himself to look away from the eerie mechanical sight, and glared at the intruder. The ghost’s face was stern, marked by a prominent scar, and his eyes glowed a deep crimson. Danny frowned, tense with challenge, and demanded:

"Who the hell are you?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

The Tachyonaut

"Kronos, Saeturnus, Kairos, Aion... I've gone by many names throughout the ages. Most ghosts call me Clockwork."

His voice was deep and low, and his red, pupil-less eyes stared at Danny with unnerving intensity. Danny met his gaze, refusing to let himself be intimidated.

"All right, Clockwork. When did you get here, and where did you come from?"

"I’ve been here from the beginning. I’m always here."

Danny frowned. Great, another whack job. At least this one hadn’t tried to attack him yet —a step up from the usual crowd. And yet, despite his odd behavior and cryptic words, there was a disquieting seriousness about this ghost that made Danny feel he should tread carefully.

"I’ve never seen you before."

"Always and never are twin sisters."

Okay, nutcase confirmed. Danny’s initial caution was turning into impatience.

"You know what? I actually don't care. I don’t have time for this. What do you want? If you’re here to…"

The rest of his sentence died on his lips. Clockwork, who had started out looking like a young man, was rapidly aging before his eyes. His face grew lined, his back stooped. Inescapably, he was becoming an old, very old man.

"What the…," Danny muttered, stunned.

Clockwork looked centuries old, now —shrunken and frail, his spine bent and twisted. Or rather… Danny blinked. His frail form wasn’t that of an ancient man at all, but that of a small infant, he suddenly realized. Was it a trick of the light? Had he even changed, or was he embodying all these forms at once?

The more Danny tried to make sense of Clockwork’s appearance, the more distorted and slippery it became. A shiver of dread scraped down his spine like fingernails on a chalkboard. Driven by morbid curiosity, he tentatively reached out with his aura, and —a soft gasp escaped him like a hiccup.

"Who are you?"

"I told you."

"I mean," He paused, swallowing hard. What was he really trying to ask? A strange intuition nudged him, whispering that Clockwork wasn't just someone. But something. "Are you a ghost?"

Clockwork smirked, revealing a row of glossy, white baby teeth.

"Yes, I am a ghost. Though probably not in the way you’re thinking. I'm neither dead nor alive. I just am."

Danny's eyes shifted back to his past self, still suspended in the air, motionless. Then he looked at Clockwork again, and the set of small gears turning minutely inside his chest. His throat tightened.

"You are Time."

Clockwork's expression softened, and Danny could have sworn he saw the flicker of a smile cross his now-adolescent face.

"I traveled through time today," Danny said. "I mean, in the past, earlier."

He knew he wasn’t making any sense, but Clockwork didn’t seem to mind.

"I know."

"You know?"

"I know everything. I see everything."

There was a moment of silence as Danny tried to decide whether he was more impressed or annoyed with Clockwork. He settled on both.

"You know everything, huh? Then why are you just showing up now? Turns out I've been messing things up for months," Danny said, grumbling under his breath, "and gotten myself into all kinds of trouble because of it."

"The timeline continuum must be protected. I only step in when things get particularly delicate." Clockwork nodded toward Danny’s past self, still frozen in midair. "Your situation is... unique. It was time we met."

Danny sucked on his teeth. Time they met, huh? His mind raced, trying to come up with a way to explain how the situation had mostly been under control, despite what he’d just admitted. But if Clockwork really knew everything, then... Danny tilted his head toward his past self and asked uneasily:

"What did you do to him?"

"I haven’t done anything to him. It’s us who are currently existing out of time. This medallion you’re wearing allows you to be temporarily suspended with me."

Danny took the pendant and ran his fingers over the gold letters carved into it. Then he looked back up at Clockwork, whose face remained unreadable.

"Is that why you’re here? To stop me from... shooting it out with my past self —or, uh, future self?"

"In a sense."

Clockwork waved the scepter in his right hand, and with an ease that immediately made Danny envious, he opened a wide portal into the Zone. The green wisps of light on the other side cast long, swaying shadows on the walls of the lab. Clockwork floated through and then extended a hand in invitation:

"Come with me."

"Why?" Danny asked, wary. "What do you want from me?"

Getting a read on Clockwork was almost impossible. He wasn't hostile, but his stern demeanor did little to inspire trust or sympathy. Truth was, he kind of creeped him out. Sensing Danny's hesitation, Clockwork's tone mellowed.

"I just want to talk, if you don’t mind. About your new power."

Danny hesitated for a moment but then, as it often did, his curiosity got the better of him and he followed him through the paradimensional opening. As soon as he crossed to the other side, he knew exactly where they were —the faint murmur, the oddly thick atmosphere, and all of these scattered, desolate islands in the distance...

"My domain is over there," Clockwork said, pointing with his scepter to a distant islet.

Danny followed his gesture and recognized the tall tower with its high spire rising above the Zone’s winding landscape. From their vantage point, the building looked like a church, or maybe a small castle, surrounded by drifting dark stars.

"I was here... earlier".

"I know. Follow me."

Danny started to follow Clockwork who was already flying ahead, but a glance at the still-open portal behind them made him pause.

"Wait." Clockwork turned, and Danny pointed at his past self, frozen and motionless in the lab on the other side of the portal. "What about him —I mean, me? Are you just going to... leave me like this?"

"Don't worry. Everything is the way it's supposed to be."

Without further explanation, Clockwork resumed his flight. What a weird guy. Danny shrugged and followed him, keeping his eyes on his sinuous, ghostly silhouette. For a few minutes, they flew together, the silence only broken by the rustling of Clockwork’s cloak swirling behind him. The atmosphere in this part of the Zone felt strangely heavy, and as they progressed, the ectoplasmic pressure grew more erratic. Danny could easily understand why this area seemed so desolate —a static charge, almost tangible, weighed down on everything around them.

The tower and the island grew larger as they got closer, and Danny soon realized his mistake. What he had thought was a cluster of dark stars above the domain was actually a swarm of gears. They floated in orbit, drifting in and out of sight as if pulled by the island’s gravity. Some were huge, nearly the size of the roof, while smaller ones combined and separated, forming intricate, rotating patterns in the sprawling green sky.

The island itself was small—just large enough to support the foundations of the towering structure and its few turrets. The building was entirely made of stone and looked like a cross between a lighthouse and a clock tower. It rose several stories into the air, looming over the endless void below.

Clockwork led the way up to the top, heading towards a large steeple with a pointed roof and a wrought-iron belfry. He entered through the arched doorway, while Danny carefully touched down on the paved guardrail surrounding the bell tower. He peeked inside before stepping in.

Inside, the walls and ceiling were covered with clocks. Their gears clicked and clacked, filling the air with an intense, relentless mechanical symphony. Great pendulums swung —a precise, unwavering tempo powered by the shifting movements of weights and counterweights. Large timepieces ticked and tocked, while their numerous hands —a few missing, some reversed— moved in a steady rhythm. Most of the clock faces looked ordinary, but some were warped or lacked numbers entirely. In one corner, a couple of hourglasses turned lazily, their sands flowing upwards and then downwards, while clusters of floating gears spun endlessly with no clear purpose.

"Are you all right?" Clockwork asked.

"Yeah," Danny whispered without taking his eyes off a ghostly cuckoo clock where a scrawny bird had popped out of its metal nest to chime the hour. "It's weird, this place feels a bit…"

Danny tore his eyes away from the clock and focused back on Clockwork. He couldn't quite find the words to describe the strange vibe of the island, so he kept quiet, not wanting to risk offending his host. Some ghosts were quick to take offense at even the slightest critique of their lairs. But as usual, Clockwork seemed to pick up on Danny’s unspoken thoughts and gave him a rare smile.

"My home exists outside time, beyond any single timeline. That sensation you’re feeling is caused by a high concentration of ecto-tachyons."

"Ecto-tacky-what?"

"Fine particles. They’re everywhere but tend to accumulate here, around my domain. These particles are chrono-conductive. It means that they facilitate time manipulation."

"Right, I see," said Danny, who didn’t see much of anything. "So, uh... if I got this right, you and I kind of have the same powers, yeah?"

"Not exactly. Your natural abilities are impressive, that much is clear, but your powers are confined to your own timeline. That makes you subject to retro-causality."

"Well, that clears it up," Danny quipped.

"I invited you to my home because I would like to teach you —if you’re willing."

"Uh," Danny said, taken aback. "For real? That's nice. I wouldn't have minded getting a tutorial when I first got my ice powers, either."

"Your cryokinesis doesn't compare. Your ecto-tachyokinetic abilities are infinitely rarer, and I must admit, I’m quite intrigued."

"Man, this is crazy…"

Danny took a deep breath —unnecessary yet comforting. The air smelled of metal and machine oil, and the constant ticking and clicking had almost grown into a lullaby.

"A few hours ago, I had no idea what was going on. I had no clue I'd gone back in time. Over the past few weeks, I tried to open portals to travel around; Johnny even tried to teach me. I never thought… I mean, looking back, it’s so obvious. All those times I thought some other ghost was messing with me…. turns out it was just me the whole time. I’m such an idiot."

The first time had been the explosion in the mall on Christmas Eve —an explosion he must have caused when he had opened that very first portal with Johnny. He had lost control, and the blast had been so powerful it had flung him straight back through the Zone. And then later, there had been that other portal to Fenton Works. His mom had ended up shooting him in the kitchen —just like she had shot the intruding Phantom a few weeks before. How had he not put it all together?

The thought of his mom and Fenton Works brought the brilliant idea he'd had back in the lab rushing back with new intensity. His eyes lit up, excitement rising inside him:

"I need to go back several months into the past. Is that possible?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you show me how to do it?"

"I can, but I must warn you: it won't work."

Danny’s enthusiasm deflated slightly.

"Why not? You don't even know what I’m planning."

"You forget that I know—"

"—everything, yeah, yeah," Danny interrupted. "If that's true, then you should also know that I’m not going to change my mind."

"Touché."

"So why wouldn’t it work, though?" Danny couldn't help but ask, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

"Because even your best efforts would be in vain. Your actions cannot bring about the outcome you’re hoping for."

"But I need to help my parents. This is super important to me. I just want to change one tiny thing, I swear. I’m not looking to create any time-breaking paradoxes here, Doc Brown."

Clockwork chuckled, his voice deep and old. He was the most enigmatic ghost he'd ever met, Danny thought to himself. Even now, his motives and goals remained unclear, and his ever-changing features were unreadable. He did seem to enjoy Danny’s wit and quick comebacks though, because he gave him an amused smile.

"Far be it from me to suggest you’re in it just for sports almanac to get rich," he joked, surprising Danny who hadn't expected him to get the pop culture reference. "But you misunderstand. As I said earlier, your powers are limited to your own timeline. Both as an object or a subject, you ultimately cannot escape that constraint. So I suggest you drop the idea."

"Look, I appreciate your advice and all," Danny stated firmly. Clockwork's cryptic wisdom and vaguely preachy tone were starting to grate on his nerves. "But I’m not waiting for your blessing. My parents need my help."

"Very well," Clockwork nodded. "Theory without experience is mere intellectual play, and you must learn. Consider this your first lesson."

"If you don't want to help me…"

"On the contrary, I will help you. But when the time comes, remember that it was you who insisted on doing this."

A hint of doubt crept in, but Danny crushed it. The risk had to be worth it: his family needed him.

"Okay, how do I do this?"

"I have something that should help you, come with me."

Clockwork moved towards a circular platform. There were several objects arranged on it, including a dark two-way mirror, a weaving loom and a short pillar topped with a stone tray. On the tray sat a glass sphere encased in brass rings and a meridian, like a transparent celestial globe. The sphere rotated slowly, as if guided by faint magnetic forces, and inside it, thick wisps of milky smoke drifted peacefully.

"Is that some kind of crystal ball?" Danny joked .

"This is a chronocatalyst," Clockwork replied, adding with a crooked grin: "And yes, in a way, it is."

"What does it do?"

"You'll see." He motioned for him to come closer. "Put your hands on it."

Danny complied and placed both hands on the surface, curiosity outweighing his reservation. Immediately, a surge of energy pulsed through his gloved fingers, and the white wisps inside the sphere began to swirl, the gentle fog soon turning into a churning storm.

"Whoa…"

Through the billowing clouds of smoke inside the globe, Danny saw himself, his hand resting on the strange object, and Clockwork beside him. It was as if they were being filmed from above —a mise en abyme.

"This is the present, according to our current timeline," Clockwork explained. "The chronocatalyst will help you pinpoint the exact moment you're looking for, and the high ecto-tachyonic frequency of my domain should make things easier. Try shifting back."

Under Clockwork's guidance, Danny gradually learned how to use the unusual device. Inside the sphere, fragments of his life flashed by. It was like rewinding a movie —only this time, it was his own story unfolding. Danny could feel the energy particles flowing through his fingers and into the globe which hummed softly against his palms. The sensation wasn’t unlike what he felt when creating portals, though more intense. Then, suddenly—

"Here."

The day before he had left for UW-Madison. He could see his bags, piled up in the entryway, ready to get loaded into the family SUV. Almost instinctively, Danny sensed how to manipulate the residual energy in the chronocatalyst and, to his surprise, he opened a portal without any difficulty.

"Good work," Clockwork said approvingly.

Danny studied the opening he had created, peering into the familiar interior of Fenton Works. He took a few cautious steps forward and crossed through. The place seemed empty—no one was around. He glanced back at Clockwork, who hadn't moved, still floating beside the sphere, which had returned to its original milky, serene state.

"What about getting back to the present? How will I do that?"

"It will be easier, because the present is your anchor point. You shouldn't have any trouble. But keep the medallion, and use it to call me if you need help."

"Thanks, Clockwork."

"Don’t thank me just yet. Remember what I told you. Goodbye, Danny Phantom."

Danny's portal shrank, and Clockwork and his lair vanished. He was now alone.

Alright, Fenton. Playtime’s over. It was time to focus on the critical mission ahead: saving his parents from bankruptcy. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him, and quitting wasn’t an option. The family home and his parents’ business depended on him.

First things first: he needed to find that letter.

But where to begin? If Vlad were here, he’d probably mock him for diving in headfirst without thinking things through. Maybe the lab would be a good place to start; his parents spent most of their time there. Or perhaps he should check the—

A noise from upstairs interrupted his train of thoughts. Someone was coming down the stairs with heavy footsteps. Danny instantly turned invisible. Seconds later, his dad appeared, carrying a large box in his strong arms. He was followed by none other than past-Danny, who had a sports bag slung over his shoulder. Danny stayed still, hovering a few inches off the ground in complete silence. Even with everything he knew now, the fear of being detected by his past self still lingered. Thankfully, no telltale puff of frosty breath gave him away.

"Is that everything?" Jack asked as he set the box down with the others in the hallway, near the garage door.

"Yeah, there are a few things left, but we can probably get them tomorrow," past-Danny replied, dropping his duffel bag and checking his phone. "I’ve gotta go —I’m meeting up with Sam and Tucker."

"Of course, son. Need a ride? I was just about to run some errands."

Danny already knew his answer. He had flown there. That farewell day was still etched in his mind —the three of them had met up at the Nasty Burger for one final Mega Monster Meal Combo.

"No thanks, I'm good. I feel like walking a bit," the other Danny replied, grabbing his coat. He opened the door, and gave his dad a little wave. "Later, Dad!"

Danny’s attention returned to Jack, who was now busy rearranging bags and boxes, stacking the smaller items on top of the larger ones to clear space in the hallway. As Danny watched, his eyes idly wandered to the console table. Then, they snapped back, widening in surprise.

The letter!

Two hard board back envelopes were sitting there, each with a yellow sticky note attached. Just as Danny started to move closer, Jack turned around, and the corner of the box he was carrying bumped into the console table, knocking both envelopes to the floor.

"Oops," Jack mumbled.

He bent down to pick them up, but the sticky notes had fallen off in the process. Danny saw him hesitate for a moment, a brief frown crossing his face as he looked back and forth between the two envelopes. After a moment, Jack shrugged, stuck the notes back on —one for each envelope— and placed them back on the table before heading toward the kitchen.

Danny waited until his dad was completely out of sight. Then, still invisible, he floated closer to take a better look. Each sticky note had an address scribbled on it, intended for filling out certified mail slips at the Post Office. One was addressed to the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office; the other for Mr. Al Phakathi, Agent Alpha of the Ghost Investigation Ward.

His dad had mixed them up. The formal complaints his mom had meant to send about the Guys in White's abusive behavior had ended up at the Patent Office, while the patent application had been sent to... Agent Alpha, that director from the GIW. So that was where everything had gone wrong.

Danny quickly glanced around to make sure he was still alone, then swapped the two addresses, making sure each envelope would go to the right place this time.

Piece of cake.

Just as Clockwork had promised, getting back to the present was no trouble at all. The moment Danny was back in his room, he practically collapsed onto his bed, utterly drained. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

The next morning, he went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Everyone else was already up. Jazz and her friend Jenny were watching a movie in the living room, and Maddie, who was loading the dishwasher, told him that Jack was working in the lab, because the portal needed a filter replacement.

"Everything okay in the lab? I mean, with work and all that?" Danny asked, trying to sound casual as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Maddie paused and gave him a curious look.

"Well, actually, the lab was a real mess this morning," she said, raising an eyebrow. "We think some ghosts might have come through during the night. All my books were scattered on the floor. Did you hear anything?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I thought I heard some noise, but I figured it was just a dream," he replied with a shrug. Wow, smooth, Fenton. But how could he ask questions without sounding too suspicious? So, got any patent stolen lately? He poured milk over his cereal, trying to keep his tone light, "Anyway, what are you guys up to today?"

"Oh, you know how it is. The house is a disaster...." Maddie sighed as she looked at the pile of dirty dishes from the Super Bowl party the night before. "And I need to hurry; Vlad and his lawyers are coming back this afternoon."

Danny’s spoon slipped from his fingers and splashed milk on the table.

"What!"

"What is it? Are you feeling okay?"

"No! I mean, yes, I'm fine!"

"Hm, you do look a bit pale. Did you not sleep well?"

"Vlad —I mean, Vlad's coming with his lawyers? This afternoon? Why?"

She gave him a puzzled look.

"You know why. We talked about this on Friday. Vlad is helping us build a case for the patent. Are you sure you're okay, honey?"

Before he could react, she walked over and pressed the palm of her hand against his forehead.

"Ooh, you're freezing! You must be coming down with something."

He wasn't hungry anymore. Using his mom's concern to his advantage, he pretended he needed to lie down and promptly retreated to his room.

He sat on the edge of his bed, feeling hollow and disoriented. His mind was reeling, desperately clinging to what he knew to be true. He had switched the addresses back to their proper place. He had changed the past. He had fixed his dad’s mistake.

Unless… —But no. He couldn't even entertain the idea. It was unacceptable. Unthinkable. And yet...

"It was me who swapped the addresses from the start...," he whispered.

A heavy, cold feeling settled in his chest. A second later, he realized it wasn't just dread —his breath turned into a fine mist.

"An interesting demonstration of retro-causality in action."

Danny jolted upright, spinning around as he leapt to his feet.

"Clockwork!"

The ring of light that had instinctively sprung from his waist fizzled out. He pressed two fingers against his forehead and let out a loud sigh. Then he cracked one eye open to glare at the ghost floating in front of his old Dumpty Humpty poster. His initial shock had faded into a mix of annoyance and unease.

"What are you doing here? My parents are downstairs and they're ghost hunters, you know. There's a lot of stuff that could go off with you around."

Granted, he had rigged the house security’s sensors to keep the ecto-atmospheric levels below the alarm threshold. But still. And if he was being honest, Clockwork was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"You knew," Danny said, looking somber. "The whole time, you knew I was trying to fix a problem I was going to cause?"

The words themselves were enough to make his head throb. This concept went against everything empirical theory dictated, and it frustrated his scientific mind.

"Yes," Clockwork replied calmly. "Do you understand now? Each of your visits into the past has to be self-consistent for them to even happen."

"But that doesn’t make any sense," he insisted, desperation edging his voice. "I defeated the dragon. I patched up my injury and made sure I wouldn’t end up in a hospital. So I successfully changed the past, didn’t I? None of this would have happened if I hadn't gone back. So why didn’t it work this time?"

"On the contrary, everything is the way it's supposed to be."

"You say that a lot," Danny remarked bitterly.

Sure, Danny might have been largely to blame for the mess he was in, but a part of him couldn’t help feeling that Clockwork shared some of the responsibility. Clockwork had known all along. The guy was a time master —some kind of god, possibly. So, really, he could have tried just a little harder to stop Danny from crashing and burning like this.

"What I mean is that you have closed the causal loop. So, everything happened exactly as it should."

"But the dragon…"

"You accomplished what was meant to happen —what had already happened. You witnessed it yourself. And just like you said, after defeating the dragon, you treated your injuries and saved your own life."

"So wait, did I fight the dragon to save my life? Or did I save my life so that one day I could fight the dragon? Ugh, this is like the chicken or the egg thing…"

"That is because the egg is the chicken. Your victory over the dragon tied the loop together; it equally belonged to both your past and your future."

"What, this was all just… fate, then? Doesn’t that mean my actions were already decided, if what you’re saying is true?"

"Fate is a human invention. You are simply bound to your own timeline, which means your actions must occur within a closed, self-consistent time curve. Hence, the causal loop."

Danny rubbed his temple.

"Yeah I’ll need to take some notes," he joked weakly. "But I think I kind of get it. Basically, I can travel through time, but it's useless, right? That’s just great."

"This was my first lesson," Clockwork said pleasantly.

"Yeah, well, I can’t say I’m looking forward to whatever you have in store for lesson two," Danny sighed. "What about you? Are you also stuck with this... causal self-consistency thing?"

For the first time, Clockwork gave him a genuine smile, and something mischievous sparkled in the depths of his crimson eyes. Oh, this guy was getting a kick out of this.

"No, I’m not. But let's save that for a future lesson."

Danny spent most of the morning in his room, replaying Clockwork's words over and over in his mind, long after he had left. Although the explanations had finally cleared up the mystery of the past few months, the whole situation had left a bittersweet aftertaste.

Lying flat on his bed, he fiddled with the medallion Clockwork had given him. For later, he had said. Danny wasn't sure he wanted to see him again, though. Clockwork had offered to be his teacher, but what was the point? The past couldn't be changed. He had played with fire and had gotten burned. He certainly had learned his lesson.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang, followed quickly by the sound of footsteps and voices—and a familiar aura.

Vlad.

Danny leapt up, bolted out of his room and sprinted down the corridor, his feet barely touching the floor. He skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs, peering down just in time to see his mom ushering a small group of lawyers into the house. There were three of them, all sharply dressed and carrying briefcases. Trailing behind this trio of navy-blue suits was Vlad, like a shepherd herding his flock. He hadn't noticed Danny yet.

Maddie offered coffee, and the lawyers eagerly accepted as they followed her into the living room. Just as Vlad was about to step through the doorway, Danny reached out with his spectral aura to lightly brush Vlad’s. Vlad halted mid-step and turned his head, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Danny at the top of the stairs. Danny lifted his chin and raised his eyebrows in a silent demand.

Vlad frowned. Danny rolled his eyes and titled his head to the side in a few quick, impatient jerks. If Vlad could just take the hint and get a move on...

"One moment, please. Start without me; I won't be long."

Vlad had pulled out his cell phone and he waved it briefly toward the group in the living room, an apologetic smile on his face, before stepping away.

"What?" he hissed in a whisper as he climbed the stairs to meet Danny, who was waiting at the top. "If this is another one of your childish—"

"Ugh, just listen for once, okay?" Danny cut him off, frustrated by this gratuitous reprimanding. What he had to say was far more important than their usual squabbles. "I know who stole my parents' patent." Vlad's eyes immediately sharpened, and Danny knew that he finally had his full attention. "The patent application file was sent to Agent Alpha, the GIW director. He's the one who received everything: the schematics, the blueprints, the technical stuff."

"And you couldn't have mentioned this sooner? We've been searching for weeks—"

"Yeah, because I just found out!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"There were two envelopes, two different addresses. They got mixed up."

"Jack did wh—"

"My dad had nothing to do with it," Danny interrupted firmly. He then wrinkled his nose. "I'm the one who switched the addresses. It's, uh... kind of a long story."

"I wouldn't say I have all the time in the world," Vlad retorted, glancing back downstairs. "But go ahead, explain."

"Okay, right, so... um..., Danny began, trying to figure out how he could explain everything without sounding completely unhinged. "Have you ever heard of a ghost named Clockwork?"

"The Master of All Time.?" Vlad asked with a skeptical huff. He waved his hand dismissively: "He’s just a rumor. A myth."

"Oh yeah? Well, guess what, I met him yesterday. Because it turns out I can time travel."

The look on Vlad's face now made it clear he was questioning Danny's sanity —and wasn’t that rich.

Danny took a deep breath and quickly recapped the events on the night after the Super Bowl —the fight with the dragon, his epiphany, the encounter with Clockwork and the subsequent colossal mistake he'd made, thinking he could fix the past. He had to backtrack a few times to clarify some points and explain his more confusing details. Despite that, Vlad listened without interrupting, and by the time Danny finished, the skepticism had vanished from his face.

"The power to travel through time" Vlad echoed thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I know, it's nuts."

"I've heard the occasional rumor... Even though everything pointed to those being the usual nonsense that gets peddled around the Zone."

"I feel like such an idiot," Danny admitted dejectedly. "I mean, with the whole clone and impostor stuff… I didn’t even realize it was me who was messing up big time."

But Vlad didn't bother with words of comfort. Instead, he began tapping his fingers against his jaw, his eyes distant as if lost in deep thought.

"The possibilities would be endless…"

Danny stifled an exasperated groan. He had just laid out in full detail how he had royally screwed up using that ridiculous power, but was that enough to deter Vlad? Nah, of course not! He was probably off fantasizing about all the lucrative stock deals and investments he could’ve capitalized on over the years.

"Endless? Did you even listen to me? This is the most useless power ever! I can’t change a single thing because of that consistency rule or whatever Clockwork kept rambling on about."

"And do you trust this Clockwork?"

"Well, I don’t have much of a choice. He seemed to know a lot… and his place was full of creepy stuff, like twisted clocks and flying hourglasses —the whole shebang," he said with a shrug, as if Clockwork's eccentric collection was proof enough of his expertise. He paused then added almost as an afterthought: "He was kind of weird."

"You were inside his lair?," Vlad asked.

"Uh, yeah? He told me my power was pretty rare and that he wanted to teach me how to use it —be my mentor, I guess."

"Oh, I see. Some strange ghost you met yesterday wants to become your mentor, and that’s all fine and dandy?" Vlad grumbled.

"No need to be jealous, Plasmius. The guy might be a weirdo, but you still hold the top spot in that category."

Vlad looked offended and the corner of his eye twitched with annoyance. He'd been trying to recruit Danny for so long, and getting him to even consider training together had taken him literal years. So naturally…

"Moving on," Vlad continued flatly, "up until now, Fenton Works has been dealing with an invisible enemy. Knowing that Agent Alpha received the file and fraudulently submitted the application changes everything."

"I wanted to tell my parents this morning, but…"

"It would be hard for you to explain how you got hold of that information."

"Yeah." Danny said with a mirthless chuckle, easily envisioning the awkward scene. "Imagine that —so, here's the deal, Mom: I'm a ghost, but that’s not even the worst part. I also got a new stupid power, screwed up the past and nearly destroyed your company. But hey, apart from that, I'm good, I promise."

"It won’t come to that. I’ll tell them that my investigative team finally had a breakthrough. The GIW has significant resources, though. What Agent Alpha has done is blatantly illegal, but taking them to court for abuse of power won't be easy."

"And you’ll need evidence, won’t you?"

Vlad raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face almost chastising Danny for forgetting who he was talking to.

"Oh, I’ll get the evidence."

And for the first time, his predatory smile was oddly reassuring.

Chapter Text

Epilogue

With more force than necessary, Danny ripped the sticker off his sleeve. He crumpled it up and tossed it into a nearby trash can, then gave himself a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any more badges, ribbons, or stickers his dad might have slapped on him.

Satisfied he was finally rid of all the Vlad-branded junk, he stepped away from the city hall building he had just exited and let out a quiet sigh. He leaned against the railing and rested his chin on his folded hands. The afternoon was winding down, and the setting sun bathed the clouds in liquid gold. The air was crisp. He took a deep breath.

Inside city hall, the celebration for Vlad's victory in the mayoral election was in full swing. Even from outside, Danny could hear the faint hum of lively conversation, bursts of laughter, and the occasional applause from the crowd —mostly Vlad’s political supporters and campaign staff. His win had been a blowout. After Montez's absurd conspiracy theories had gone public, his credibility had tanked. Vlad had won reelection by a landslide. What a joke.

Of course, Danny was the only one who knew what really went down behind the scenes. Still, he figured it was at least a step up from the mass overshadowing Vlad had pulled the first time around. It wasn’t much, but at least people had genuinely voted for him this time.

Danny would have much rather skipped this charade of a victory party, but his parents —especially his dad— had insisted and practically dragged him along. We owe Vlad a lot, they had said. And it was true. Fenton Works wasn't completely out of the woods yet, but thanks to an unexpected breakthrough —and what an extraordinary stroke of luck that had been— Vlad's investigators had finally tracked down who had filed the patent, and things were starting to turn in their favor.

Still leaning against the railing, Danny’s eyes drifted to the tall, modern art installation in the middle of the city hall plaza. It was a flat metal sculpture with circular holes cut through it. It vaguely reminded him of a giant slice of Swiss cheese, and he wondered if Vlad had picked it out himself.

Bzz! Bzz!

A series of buzzing sounds jolted him out of his daydream. He pulled out his phone from his jean pocket as it vibrated with more incoming messages. They were from Valerie.

[Hey! How are you?] -Val, 05:10pm

[I'm in town] -Val, 05:10pm

[I’m not far from your place] -Val, 05:10pm

[Can I come by?] Val, 05:11pm

                  [I'm not at home right now] -Danny, 05:11pm

                  [Sorry!] -Danny, 05:11pm

[Ah too bad] -Val, 05:12pm

[I've got your backpack] -Val, 05:12pm

[I wanted to give it back to you] -Val, 05:12pm

                  [I'm outside of city hall] -Danny, 05:12pm

                  [If you're in the area] -Danny, 05:12pm

[Yes!] -Val, 05:13pm

[I'm super close] -Val, 05:13pm

[I’ll be there in a minute] -Val, 05:13pm

[😊] -Val, 05:13pm

                  [👍] -Danny, 05:14pm

Just as he was putting his phone back into his pocket, he heard the rhythmic sound of heels clicking against the asphalt. Someone was coming. He looked up and recognized Vlad's executive assistant, Janine. He gave her an awkward smile and she responded with a frosty glare. By now, she was probably convinced he was one of those delinquent kids the media loved to rant about.

Danny watched her walk toward the building's entrance. She pulled open the double doors, and for a brief moment, the sounds of the party spilled out. He thought he heard his dad’s booming voice, loudly praising Vlad. His endless admiration for their esteemed mayor's intelligence, finesse, and integrity was tiresome, but at least it was sincere. The same couldn't be said for most of the other guests. They barely bothered to hide their sideways glances and envious looks at Vlad —who, for his part, seemed to relish strutting around in this nest of vipers.

After about ten minutes, a car pulled up to the curb. Someone got out —it was Valerie. She shut the door, and locked her car, which merrily beeped a few times. She then turned towards the building and as soon as she saw him, she gave him a friendly wave.

"Hey!" she called out, handing him the backpack she had borrowed weeks ago. "I’ve been meaning to give this back to you for a while now, sorry..." she apologized. She glanced over Danny’s shoulder, curious about the bright lights and colorful banners. "What's going on here?"

"Vlad's big coronation. You’ve been keeping up with the election, right?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course."

"My dad insisted I had to come."

He shrugged with disinterest, suggesting that, given the choice, he'd rather be at home playing Doomed 2 on his computer. She laughed, but as her eyes drifted back to the building behind them, her mouth twisted into something more awkward. It wasn’t hard to guess why. Montez had become a public joke, and his conspiracy allegations had turned him into the town’s laughingstock. She probably felt a little foolish for believing some of his wild stories and agreeing to investigate on his behalf. Naturally, she’d never know that her suspicions about Vlad weren’t as far-fetched as they seemed now.

"By the way, how’s your ankle?"

Valerie looked relieved at the change of subject and tugged at her pant leg to reveal a splint.

"I got lucky: it’s not broken. It’ll be a few more weeks before I’m back in action, but it could have been way worse."

"That’s great news! And, uh... what about work? Did you end up finding a new job or...?"

Danny regretted asking almost immediately. The memory of that disaster at the shoe store where she’d tried to land a job was still fresh. Of course, he felt the whole mess was mostly the Box Ghost’s fault, but he had an inkling she might not see it the same way.

"Nope! And I’m fine with that," she said with a grin.

Wait, what? Danny’s surprise must have been written all over his face because Valerie laughed, her face lighting up with happiness:

"I’m going to college!"

"What? That’s awesome! How—?"

"Something totally crazy happened!" she practically squealed. She glanced around, then leaned in and lowered her voice, "But you can’t tell anyone." He nodded in agreement, and she whispered with an excitement she could barely contain: "I won twenty-five thousand dollars!"

"Twenty-five thou—!" Danny started to shout, but Valerie quickly shushed him, frantically motioning for him to keep his voice down. Whispering now, he said, "Twenty-five thousand dollars? That's a lot of money! How’d you win that?"

"Well... every year, my dad and I head down to Kentucky to watch the Super Bowl at my cousins’ place —the ones in Louisville, you know, they always make this big barbecue thing. Anyway, my Uncle Dave usually places a little bet on the game, and I thought... what if I gave it a shot this time?"

"Seriously? I never pegged you as the type to get into sports betting," Danny said.

She laughed.

"I’m not, quite the opposite, trust me. But the thing is, I had a reason…."

And that reason, she explained, was Phantom. They'd crossed paths a week earlier in Lincoln Square, right after the whole dragon fiasco. In fact, he had kind of saved her life, she reminded Danny, wiggling her ankle. Phantom had acted even weirder than usual. He'd rambled on about the past, the future, and a bunch of things that sounded like total nonsense.

"I don’t know if ghosts can get punch-drunk… he sure sounded like he’d banged his head pretty good or something," she said. "But then he mentioned the final score of the game, and he seemed so certain... I didn’t think much of it at the time, but later I remembered, and, well…"

35 to 38. That conversation came flooding back to him. Valerie had bet on the exact score? The correct score, of course. No wonder she'd won so much. Even without knowing much about sports betting, it was obvious that nailing an exact score had to pay out big.

"It's not really cheating, right?" she asked. Clearly, it was an idea that she had been wrestling with. "I mean, I took a big risk, used a good chunk of my savings... And I've never heard of ghosts being able to know the future, so how was I supposed to know if..."

"Are you kidding me? This is so random, and who cares anyway?! It’s awesome!"

Okay, technically it was a little like cheating. But did that even matter? Valerie was one of the hardest-working people he knew. If anyone deserved a little nudge from fate, it was her.

Still, Danny couldn’t shake his amazement. Clockwork’s joke about the sports almanac popped back into his head, and he wondered if he had known all along what would happen. Looking back, he probably did.

"I know! I still can't believe it... I have no clue how Phantom could have predicted the score. That ghost is so weird…"

"Or maybe he was just rambling, and it was a super lucky guess?" Danny suggested. He wasn't exactly eager to broadcast his new ability. She didn’t seem convinced, but he just smiled and went on, "Anyway, what really matters now is that you’re going to college!"

"Yes!" she agreed, her eyes sparkling. "Goodbye, dead-end jobs!"

"Do you already know where you'd like to go?"

"Not exactly, but I have a few schools in mind... including the University of Wisconsin–Madison."

"Really? That’d be amazing!"

"How are your classes going?"

"Good. The end of the year was a bit rough, but... things are much better now."

Unlike the last time they had talked about it, she must have seen the sincerity in his eyes because her expression softened, and she looked almost relieved.

"I’m glad to hear that. You’ll have to give me all the details sometime. I’ve got tons of questions about the campus, the city, the dorms, the student groups... because, to be honest, UW-Madison is pretty much my top choice."

"It’d be so cool if you ended up studying there too!"

And Danny truly believed that. Even if his friendship with Valerie was never as close as the one he shared with Sam and Tucker, the potential had always been there.

"Yeah, they’ve got a really great robotics program," she said.

Suddenly, a voice cut in, deep and smooth as velvet:

"The engineering department is indeed excellent."

They both jumped slightly. A dark figure stepped out from the shadows behind them, and for a split second, a pair of eyes seemed to flash red in an odd trick of the light. Danny shot Vlad an irritated look. How long had he been lurking there, eavesdropping? Vlad sauntered over with calculated ease, moving with the fluid grace of a tiger closing in on its prey.

"Oh, good evening, Mr. Masters," Valerie greeted in a small voice that didn’t quite sound like her. "Uh, yeah, that’s what I heard. And since I have a good GPA, I thought maybe, with a little luck…"

She suddenly seemed uncomfortable, and Danny remembered she had recently broken into Vlad's house. She probably thought Vlad didn't know, but her demeanor gave away her guilt.

"Luck isn't everything," Vlad pointed out with his best politician's smile. "A letter of recommendation from an exceptional alumnus, on the other hand..." He let his words hang in the air for a moment. "It just so happens that the head of the engineering department is a close friend of mine."

Danny raised an eyebrow. Was he imagining things, or had Vlad just offered to help Valerie? His initial shock quickly turned into suspicion. A close friend, huh? Like the head of his own department had been? Complete with a free side of friendly brainwashing?

Valerie opened her mouth in surprise. It was an offer she couldn't turn down: a referral from one of the world's most renowned business tycoons would be her golden ticket into her dream program.

"You... you’d do that for me?"

"But of course," he replied, flashing a shark-like grin. "We’re hardly strangers, after all."

Danny caught the subtle glance Valerie shot his way and he feigned cluelessness. Fenton wasn't supposed to know who her former employer was, or how she had once been connected to the esteemed mayor of Amity Park.

"Thank you, I... I really appreciate it," she said sincerely. Then, after a brief hesitation, she added, "Congratulations on winning the election. The accusations Montez made were pretty serious, and I have to admit, for a moment even I thought maybe... um, what I mean is, ah nevermind… —I guess it doesn’t matter now... So, anyway, congrats."

Vlad thanked her. Then, with a promise to be in touch, Valerie finally took her leave. They watched as she walked away, got into her car, and drove off into the night.

"She seems to have dropped her suspicions," Vlad commented as the car disappeared around the corner.

"Yeah. Montez was a conspiracy nut, and Masters is pure as the driven snow. Nice setup."

"Thank you. It’s what I do best."

Danny rolled his eyes on principle, but a small grin broke through, ruining the effect.

"Why help Valerie, anyway? Is that really what you’re planning? Just a few weeks ago, you couldn’t decide whether to push her off a cliff or cut her brake lines."

"Miss Grey is a smart young woman. I’ve worked with her before, so I know what she’s capable of. She’s ambitious, and I have no doubt she’ll go far if given the chance. In the long run, it’s better for my plans to have her working with me rather than against me."

"Big shocker there…", Danny muttered. "Still, it’d be cool —not your scheme, I mean us going to the same college."

"I'm glad to hear your grades have improved."

"Did you really listen in on our whole conversation?" Danny asked, giving him an accusatory look. But Vlad, unbothered as ever, didn’t react. Danny sighed. "But yeah, me too. And you know what I meant, things have only gotten better thanks to my weekly visits. I’m not kidding myself —until I can figure out how to create portals to check in on Amity Park whenever I want, I’m stuck hauling my bags back here every weekend. Without that, I don’t really stand a chance."

His eyes drifted across the large plaza in front of city hall. The skyline on the horizon blended into the dark sky, the tiny, lit windows of the buildings like stars scattered across the earth. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with Amity Park. The city seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. His obsession was sated. For now.

He still had a lot of work ahead of him. Sure, his stunt with the dragon had earned him some good press, but winning back people's trust would take time. He could do it, though. Phantom’s reputation had always been a rollercoaster —this wasn’t the first dip, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

"Speaking of which, how’s your progress with the portals?" Vlad asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Have you seen Clockwork again?"

"Just once," Danny admitted. He held back from mentioning that Clockwork had officially offered to take him on as an apprentice. "The biggest thing is, I need to figure out how to tell time portals apart from spatial ones. For some reason, I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. It’s really hard."

Vlad nodded, his gaze drifting into the distance as a shadow briefly flickered crossed his face. Hm. Then, Danny felt it all click. The day he mastered portal creation, he’d never have to stay at Vlad’s place again. Vlad would probably never admit it, but it was suddenly obvious: these changes messed with his own obsessional constraints.

"But hey, I’m pretty terrible at it," Danny added. "So I’ll probably be sticking around for a while yet."

Vlad’s shoulders eased, and the darkness in his eyes lifted. Danny fought back a smile. There were moments when Vlad was a complete mystery, and others when he was as easy to read as a book.

"Though, to be fair, it's not so bad, all things considered," Danny continued. Vlad watched him with a hint of curiosity. "I mean, it’s not always easy, for sure, but this is better than us fighting all the time, right? We've known each other for years, but we never really got to know each other, I guess. And that kind of sucks. It’s not like there are a lot of other half-ghosts out there… So, I suppose it’s kind of… nice?"

He cringed at how awkward that sounded, but his fumbling and clumsy wording didn't seem to faze Vlad, who gave him an inscrutable look.

"I share your sentiment, little badger."

There was a quiet pause, and Danny sensed a strange, unspoken understanding pass between them. Like a silent promise.

The moment was shattered by the front door flying open with a bang, letting out the sound of music and laughter. Jack's booming voice followed:

"Vladdie! Danny! There you are! I’ve been searching everywhere for you two! You’re missing the best part of the evening! They just brought out the dessert and it's fudge cheesecake! Fudge! If you want some, you better hurry —there’s still time!"

They turned to see Jack standing a few yards away, holding the door open with one hand and a plate stacked high with cake in the other. He grinned broadly and waved the plate enticingly, as if to emphasize the extraordinary bargain they were about to miss.

"I think I finally get why my dad wanted you to win so badly," Danny joked.

"Hmm, sorry I kept us from the best part of the evening," Vlad replied, his tone dry.

"Should we head back in, then?" Danny suggested, watching Jack, who was still shuffling in place and waving his plate toward them.

"Yes," Vlad agreed. Then he turned to Danny, his blue eyes glinting with an intensity that caught Danny off guard. "We wouldn’t want to skip the best parts. If there’s still time, let’s make sure we don’t miss out on anything else."

Danny got the distinct feeling that they were no longer talking about dessert.

And so, they went.