Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TMF is a tragic, raw story of codependency, of fate versus choice, of misunderstanding, conviction, and identity. It's a story of a man so broken the only way he knows how to love someone is to own them, and a boy so desperate for acceptance that he will protect his abuser and call it family.

This story started simple. A pure, self-indulgent "what if" that let me explore my edgy, dark tastes in the context of a kid's show I loved when I was ten. It was just fun to imagine. What if Danny made the wrong choice? What if he didn't just refuse Vlad immediately, and the villain won-- not through raw power, but through manipulation?

And it still starts that way. Power fantasy, edge, even traces of the show's brand of humor. I tried to keep it feeling like Danny Phantom, not some gritty, grimdark fic where Danny swears up a storm as he's getting vivisected. I wanted it to feel like canon, to feel like the show, just taken in a different direction.

Somewhere along the way… it changed. I started digging deeper into how and why characters would act the way they do. Why Danny would accept Vlad. What that would mean for him. How his friends would react. How ghost fights would change. It stopped being a self-indulgent power fantasy and became a story of trauma, obsession, and the kind of toxic love that feels like home even as it tears you apart. It became deeply personal in ways I didn't expect it to.

It started out living in my head. It moved to a Google doc when it got complicated. And I started writing it out when I realized it wasn't just a silly, fun alternate path. I'm sharing it not because it's easy, but because it hurts. Because these characters deserve to be seen, in all their tragedy and triumph. Because maybe someone else out there will feel what I felt writing it, crying over Vlad Masters at three in the morning.

14-year-old Daniel "Danny" Fenton's story opens much the same as it normally does; with Danny stumbling through his first month as a half-ghost teenager trying to balance his school life while learning control of his powers. In those first few weeks, the stress of every new power he didn't know how to use made his mundane stressors harder to deal with-- his dad's unaware bumbling barely covering for the time he accidentally dented a wall when his hand spouted ectoplasm at the wrong time, Jazz's overbearing protectiveness making it a risk that he would accidentally go invisible with her watching, the time Dash shoved him in a locker only for him to phase and fall out of it. Broken beakers, scorched bedsheets, slipping grades, and weak excuses followed his slow progress up a steep learning curve.

There were nights he'd lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he was even human anymore. His reflection looked the same… except for the times his eyes would glow green. But that itself raised concerns he never really spoke on; what if he phased into the ground in his sleep? Was he technically dead now? What if he went full ghost in front of people? Sure, he had superpowers now, but he couldn't control them, hadn't wanted them, and what should have been something exhilarating turned into a constant source of anxiety.

His family couldn't know; Jack's and Maddie's obsession with ghosts quickly turned from embarrassing quirk to suffocating danger, and every invention of theirs reminded him of what he was and what they'd do to him if they found out. Sam and Tucker remained his only support system, but their frequent bickering made his life harder than it already was. Sam's agendas and Tucker's side hustles drew unwanted attention on Danny himself simply by proximity, landing him detentions and lectures when his ghost powers would pop up at the worst times, or when association simply put him in trouble.

This was the state of things during Danny's first big fight-- S1E1 Mystery Meat, a boy stretched thin, nerves already fraying, pulled into ghost hunting not because he wanted to be a hero, but because trouble always seemed to find him and his friends. The battle does not go cleanly, the Lunch Lady escapes, and Danny returns to school to find Sam and Tucker escalating their latest feud into extremes and trying to force him to pick a side. And he refuses-- not by mediating, as he normally would, but by letting them work it out themselves as he's forced into battle once more. Made to think on his feet, he starts learning, picking up on how to really use his powers, and finally wins with the capture of the Lunch Lady inside the Fenton Thermos.

And here, Danny realizes something: if he can learn to really control them, his ghost powers aren't a curse-- they're tools that make his life easier, cleaner, and more fun… if he can control them. Zapping annoyances, going invisible when Dash is hunting him, walking through walls or flying to get somewhere faster-- they all start looking like something between assets and toys, things he can rely on when the world is too noisy for a normal kid.

In S1E2 Parental Bonding, that mindset deepens instead of being corrected. Overshadowing is never posed as a moral dilemma; it's a shortcut, a workaround to tricky problems, and when Danny accidentally finds himself in Dash's body, he treats it as yet another tool in his arsenal and a prime opportunity for revenge. While he rides the temporary high of Paulina's attention, his loyalty does carry him back to Tucker and Sam-- the dragon situation is simply another ghost to fight, barely a blip on his radar. This doesn't mean that Sam's pushy moralizing or Tucker's reckless schemes aren't still a hindrance, and he already begins coping by categorizing things as "obstacles" or "tools".

The easy ride ends abruptly in S1E3 One of a Kind. When Skulker arrives and is continuously derailed, Danny doesn't take comfort in having escaped-- he's frustrated with himself for being too weak to defend himself. Skulker is defeated by little more than luck, Danny is continuously distracted by Sam's activist agendas-- and it shows that he's fed up with it, because when she jokingly tries to blackmail him with a photo of Danny and Tucker cuddling in their sleep, he zaps the photo into ashes. The encounter, battle, and lucky win against Skulker doesn't leave him grateful; it leaves him feeling angry and incompetent. He has to get stronger, sharper, better, if he wants to survive against ghosts like this. When his reaction to the Box Ghost is "Hello, misplaced aggression", it's not playful banter-- it's vented frustration.

By S1E4 Attack of the Killer Garage Sale, the cracks in Danny's perspective are already widening. His parents' bumbling is no longer a funny embarrassment he can look back on and laugh at; it's an active reminder of the danger Danny lives in. Threats that would tear him apart if his parents knew he was a ghost; defective machines that could just as easily misfire even if they never learned. His brief time in the limelight of high school popularity is fun, but it doesn't make anything better; he sees it as every win being temporary, people being fickle, every good thing can be undermined by someone else's mistake. The lesson to "be yourself" barely lands and doesn't stick. When he takes revenge on Dash through his ghost powers, it isn't played for laughs; it's catharsis and stress relief, the first time petty revenge has felt like an outlet rather than a prank.

The huge shift comes in S1E5 Splitting Images, where Danny sidesteps the plot and its lesson entirely by keeping a cool head. When Sidney Poindexter confronts what he believes to be a ghost boy terrorizing an innocent kid with his powers, Danny actually manages to explain the situation to him-- and Poindexter believes him, after watching for a bit to see Dash bully Danny unprovoked. With Danny talking Poindexter down before things spiral, he never learns the lesson that his powers shouldn't be used for petty revenge, never gets that hit of guilt or taste of his own medicine. It teaches him that problems can be solved just by remaining levelheaded and talking his way out of consequences. Meanwhile, Sam's agendas get him in trouble, Jazz's overprotectiveness paints him as weak, and his parents embarrass him at school-- once again, the conclusion is simple. His friends and family make his life harder, but ghost powers get positive results.

S1E6 What You Want sets the pattern in stone… and brings something interesting. When Danny and his ghost half get separated by the Fenton Ghost Catcher, after the two blink in confusion at each other for a second, Phantom's first response is to repossess his body-- which leaves something like the echo of a scar, a shift in thought process that Danny chalks up to fatigue. Desiree's wish-granting gives Danny pause for a moment, but he doesn't fall for it; however, when Tucker wishes for ghost powers and quickly becomes a looming threat, it makes something click for Danny. Other people can't handle ghost powers. How could they ever understand his own? He dispatches "Tucker Phantom" the same as ever, though is a little more cool to Tucker afterwards; not unkind, but introspective.

And so, by the time S1E7 Bitter Reunions rolls around… well, Danny isn't just a bumbling kid wrestling with his newfound powers but having learned valuable lessons anymore. He's a boy using his powers as crutches. The lessons he did learn just never stuck, and in its place his experiences have started shaping his worldview, hard-won victories and the fickle nature of people teaching him that the only really reliable thing in his life is his ghost half. The powers are convenient, useful, and effective; his friends are exhausting, his family unknowingly puts him in active danger, and it's starting to feel like the powers that once terrified him are the only things he can control. But they also feel like they aren't enough. Every fight exposes how inexperienced he is, every difficult enemy shows him how much stronger he needs to be, and every close call reminds him that he needs to master this part of himself.

He's primed for someone to take advantage and offer him exactly what he wants: training. Real training, not a night of beating up the Box Ghost in some warehouse while trying to evade his parents. When the offer finally comes, it isn't from a stranger-- it's from his dad's "best friend" who's had these exact same powers longer than Danny's been alive. And so it becomes a question not of if Danny will accept, but rather how far Vlad will push his newfound pupil.

Which is where we find him as this alternate path truly begins.

"Let me out of here!"

The Spectral Energy Neutralizer hummed around Danny as he struggled against it, trapped in human form. The box had been a trap by Skulker, who'd just left, dismissed by Vlad Masters, his dad's old college buddy who'd apparently been the victim of a similar ghost portal accident and, like Danny, been left with ghost powers. The billionaire in question was calmly and smugly watching him in ghost form, and when he replied to Danny's outburst, his voice was smooth and patronizing.

"Why? so you can go back to stumbling through your adolescence, desperately trying to get control of your powers? Powers, by the way, that I've had for twenty years." Vlad coated his hands in ectoplasm, as if proving a point. "I have experience, my child." The ectoplasm became a barrier that vanished as he spoke. "And the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you see." The ghost split into three of himself. "I could train you, teach you everything I know." The three Vlads merged to become one again, and he turned invisible, "And all you'd have to do," Vlad became visible again, "is renounce your idiot father."

That stopped Danny, right as the instinct to refuse and insult Vlad bubbled up in his throat. Training. The thing he needed to survive in the hostile world he'd found himself in since the accident. For a moment the boy just blinked at him, trying to figure out what that even meant. Frowning, hesitating, he tested the waters. "So… so what? You mean just like… pretend he's not my dad, or something?"

Vlad chuckled. "Pretend? No, Daniel, simply acknowledge what you already know. Your father is clumsy, careless, oblivious to what you are, and would rip you apart with one of his inventions if he ever saw you in your ghost form." He leaned in close. "He doesn't deserve your loyalty, and you don't owe him it."

Danny's voice came out angry, but there was an uncertain waver to it. "He's… he's still my dad. He'll accept me, no matter what, ghost or not." He sounded unsure.

The man just smiled slyly. "Are you willing to take that risk?"

Instead of answering, Danny took another approach. "He doesn't deserve to get hurt just because you don't like him, Vlad."

Vlad shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "No one has to get hurt, my boy. If you accept my offer I'll guide you, protect you, make sure your secret remains intact." The sly grin was back. "Think of your mother. Think of your sister. They'll be safe, because you'll finally be strong enough to keep them that way."

The boy's eyes darted, trying to think, instinctively looking for a way out. If Danny said no here there wasn't a guarantee he'd ever master his powers, or even that Vlad would let him go. His voice came out softer as he spoke again. "So you'll… teach me how to control this? No tricks?"

Vlad straightened, looking triumphant as if he already knew how this would end. "No tricks. Powers under control. No more accidents, no more stumbling. Just realized potential." There was an oily warmth to his reassurances.

There was a long pause.

Finally Danny took a long, steadying breath and looked at Vlad again. "Fine. I'll accept. My dad's an idiot." No harm in saying that outside of Jack's earshot, especially if it got him where he needed to be. But Danny quickly added, "But I'm not hurting anyone. Not my dad, not anyone."

The smile on Vlad's face widened into something unnerving as he clicked a button, the box blocking Danny's powers retreating and shrinking into a harmless cube with a mechanical whirr. "Of course, my boy. Of course."

The rest of the reunion party passed without much incident, though Danny had this uneasy pit in his stomach for the remainder. The mansion slowly dulled in noise level as guests left to go about their lives, oblivious to the ghostly activities that had occurred during the party. Something bothered him, and he wasn't sure how to quantify it. The way guests filtered out, laughing and talking; the way his family carried on as if nothing strange had happened; the way Vlad's eyes tracked him with a smug satisfaction that reminded Danny of the time Dash had broken an expensive microscope and blamed it on him. Vlad had barely spoken to him since the exchange, but Danny could sense the expectation lingering, a promise left hanging in the air.

The Fentons were among the last to leave, Jack jabbering on to anyone who would listen (and several people who wouldn't) about his latest inventions and ghost encounters. Danny could already tell it would be a late night, if the family didn't just leave in the morning after overnighting at the mansion again. And then he felt attention on him, a pressure he wasn't sure was real or some ghost power Danny didn't know about yet-- but Vlad was looking at him in a way that said come, follow. It was little more than arched brows and a sly smile as Vlad was half-turned toward a side door, but there was a sharpness in it that gave no room for refusal.

For a moment Danny hesitated, looked over his shoulder to see his parents distracted and oblivious, then slipped away unnoticed and followed the silent cue. Instinct told him to stay put and caused his body to react like it was expecting a fight. Against his better judgement, he ignored it. This was no longer about social pretense; Vlad was about to make good on his offer.

Danny ultimately followed Vlad back down into the lab, or at least a room near it-- reinforced metal walls, harsh lighting, humming ghost tech. It wasn't too dissimilar from the lab at Fentonworks, but with upgrades expected of wealth: more space, higher-quality equipment, and it didn't look like someone had exploded the Fenton Weasel again. He let himself look around at the room as Vlad walked further in, hands clasped neatly behind his back.

"From what I've seen of your fighting, your timing is sloppy, but you have spirit," the man was saying. "That's the inconvenient part of talent. You have the ability, but not the knowledge or experience or skill to use it."

Not sure whether to be offended or flattered, Danny looked at Vlad with a raised eyebrow. "So… teach me then. Show me how to- I don't know- not explode when I sneeze, or something."

Vlad chuckled. "Charming, Daniel. Very well." He turned around, morphing into ghost form. "Lesson one! Control your output. Be purposeful."

He split into three again, each moving independently, circling Danny like sharks waiting for the right opening. Danny's eyes widened as he tried to keep all three in view. But they didn't stay in his blind spot for long; instead, they ended up forming a line on one end of the room. Each of them fake-sparred with each other, showing something like a kata- block, feint, vanish.

"That's not fair," Danny complained without any real fire to it.

"It is experience, boy. It is precision." The copies merged back into the Vlad that was speaking, who turned to face Danny again. "Now. You try the sequence. Deliberate and precise."

With a breath, Danny steeled himself, morphed to ghost form, and lunged. All raw speed, poor structure, and inexperienced enthusiasm. He overcommitted, his strike sailed wide as Vlad sidestepped, and a mild blow threw Danny into the wall. He got up, staggering and dazed.

"Ugh." He rubbed his shoulder where it hit the wall. "Did you have to--"

"Yes," the other ghost interrupted coolly. "Discipline, Daniel. If you punch like a boy who's angry, you get punched like a boy who's angry." A small hand gesture caused a few ecto-shields to form against the wall, disposable targets. "Again."

Stationary targets proved easier to deal with than Vlad, but Danny wasn't someone who usually fought with precision. Most of his fights were him flailing wildly against some new opponent, or just beating down the weaker ghosts that came through the portal at random. It caused collateral damage and tired him out, which he supposed was the point of this training. After a shield and a half's worth of practice, Danny mistimed a phase and tore through the second shield, sending it shattering in a shower of harmless shards. He scowled at it like it was inconveniencing him.

Vlad's voice sounded behind him, patient and not unkind. "Better. Not good, but better."

Danny gave a rough laugh that was more a frustrated release of tension. "Wow. Thanks. Real motivating."

"You will not become good overnight," Vlad near-scoffed. "See the goal, then practice until it doesn't require thought."

Danny rolled his eyes, not looking at Vlad. He hated how much this felt like gym class-- exhausting, repetitive, and humiliating when he messed up. Fighting ghosts had always been about surviving, not being clean. But when Danny realized Vlad hadn't spoken in a few seconds and turned around, he saw the faint curve of a smile on the man's face, and realized Vlad wasn't laughing at him. He was… satisfied? Somehow that felt worse.

Vlad raised a hand and summoned a small spark of ectoplasm, shaping it into an orb with a slight twist of his fingers. The orb floated above his palm as he extended his arm towards Danny.

"Take control of it without letting it dissipate," he instructed. "Hold it steady, keep its shape."

The boy frowned, then took a breath and tried to focus on the orb. A flicker of light from the sphere of ectoplasm answered him… then burst suddenly, scattering glowing green motes into the room, where they quickly evaporated. Danny grumbled under his breath.

"This is impossible," he complained. "I can do the easy stuff. I can fly, go through walls, turn invisible… but this? Keeping the… shape? I can't."

"You can," Vlad corrected. "You're young. You've had these powers for what, a couple of months? You are a blade that's never been honed. So breathe. Focus. Sharpen." He summoned another orb of ectoplasm above his palm. "Again."

The boy frowned at Vlad again, but did as instructed, straightening, taking another deep breath and willing himself to focus. After a few seconds the orb shuddered, then lifted, its edges wavering but steady.

Danny's eyes lit up, and he grinned. "Whoa," he said softly, as if afraid speaking too loudly would cause the orb to explode again. "This is actually… kinda cool." Something had worked, something he wasn't even aware he could do.

Vlad allowed a small smile, dispelling the sphere of ectoplasm. "You're catching on. You will not control everything tomorrow. You might not control it next month. But you will learn your limits, and understand where they end. The difference between chaos and craft."

Danny nodded, fatigued but attentive, and satisfied from his small victory. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all-- maybe he'd finally stop having to worry about an accident revealing him in front of everyone. Then his smile faltered slightly as if he'd thought of something less pleasing. "How… how long does it take?" he asked quietly. "To not feel like I'm going to lose control of it?"

The voice that answered him was soft, oddly understanding. "Longer than a lifetime feels to a boy. Shorter than the time it takes to forget a grudge." Vlad stepped back, morphing back to human; Danny followed suit. He watched the boy for a long beat, seeming to measure something in Danny's expression. "Keep practicing. You have potential, Daniel. Enough to frighten small minds and embolden large egos."

The boy smiled weakly, still not sure if that was a compliment or not. "Real morale-booster." But his smile vanished as he looked around for a clock- there wasn't one- and then looked towards the door. "I should head back before they wonder where I am. I'll… practice more."

"Of course, of course. Rest." Vlad's demeanor had switched back to gracious host as he walked with Danny out of the impromptu training room. "Learning when to stop is part of the training." He moved with a deliberate casualness, clasping one hand on Danny's shoulder, light enough to feel friendly and firm enough to feel possessive. As they rounded into the hall, unseen to Danny, a brief glimmer of light passed from Vlad's hand through Danny's shirt, flickering green before fading.

The dim hallway fell quiet aside from their footsteps. Danny rolled his shoulders reflexively, as if limbering up after the training session, and Vlad let go at the motion. Seemingly unconsciously, the teen rubbed at the shoulder with a hand before letting his arm drop and looking down the hall to locate the stairs.

Soft, satisfied, and unreadable, Vlad's soft voice followed him down the hall. "I'll be in touch, Daniel."

Danny barely registered the words, too focused on finding his way back upstairs. "Yep. Thanks, really."

Vlad let the boy continue up the stairs, smirking, letting his eyes linger for a fraction longer than they should.

The climb back up to the main hall felt longer than it should have. His family's voices drifted faintly from above; Jack's booming laughter, Jazz's annoyed complaints, Maddie's even-tempered managing of both of them. They all felt oddly distant, muffled by Danny's own thoughts. He rubbed his shoulder absently. His instincts were still telling him something was up, that maybe he shouldn't have made that bargain-- but logically, what harm would it cause? All he really had to do was call his dad an idiot in front of someone who already believed it. Danny crested the stairs to see his family mingling with the few remaining guests, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd been gone to begin with.

The rest of the night went quietly and predictably, as if nothing had changed. The Fentons laughed too loudly, thanked Vlad too warmly, packed up the Ghost Assault Vehicle with chaotic energy. Vlad's mansion staff seemed to materialize now that the party was fully winding down, quietly cleaning up and putting the tables and settings away. Danny trailed after his family quietly, only half-listening, caught in his thoughts about what had happened tonight. Maybe he didn't have to stumble through life anymore.

By the time the Fenton family left the mansion (with an invitation to return any time), the night was dark and still. To most of the family, the day had been nothing more than a typical Fenton misadventure. To Danny, it was a marker, the start of something new, that he didn't have a name for yet.

Chapter Text

The hum of machinery filled the Fentonworks lab, interspersed with the occasional clank of metal or shower of sparks as Jack moved around the Specter Speeder-- a vehicle ostensibly meant for Ghost Zone travel. Hunched over a notebook, Danny tried to ignore the noise as he scrawled last-minute answers for a homework assignment he should have done yesterday. He'd just never gotten the chance, with another near-nightly ghost attack from yet another creep who'd gotten out through the portal. The boy tried to focus, but it was difficult with the background noise of his dad tinkering. It was a better alternative to doing it upstairs, though, where Danny risked Jazz getting on his case for not doing his work sooner.

A stray screw launched past his head and clattered harmlessly against the wall, distracting Danny yet again. He gave a mildly annoyed scowl over his shoulder, but Jack was oblivious, too focused on the machine. Danny sighed, then went back to his notebook.

"Just a little more soldering, and the Specter Speeder will be finished!" Jack crowed suddenly, making Danny jump, not expecting the sudden boom of his dad's voice. "Ha! The Ghost Zone won't know what hit it when the Fenton family finally takes it for a spin!"

Danny rolled his eyes and put his pencil to paper again, but froze as another unexpected voice sounded in his ear.

"Good heavens, the man couldn't repair a toaster without risking an explosion." It was the smooth drawl of Vlad Masters, who was supposed to be in Wisconsin, not the basement. Danny whipped around to see where it was coming from, but no billionaire was there, and yet it continued. "And this… thing? He's going to kill you all."

"What in the--?" Danny muttered under his breath.

He didn't have time to finish the thought or try to figure out what was happening, however, because his mom chose that moment to walk down the stairs into the lab. She only had eyes for Jack, her expression a strange sort of hopeful that didn't feel entirely happy. "Jack, dear…?"

"Mhm?" Jack gave his noncommittal response, half-under the Speeder. "Hand me that torque wrench, honey."

"Jack." Maddie's voice was a little firmer. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Monday?" Jack asked obliviously.

Maddie put her hands on her hips, looking down at where Jack's face was hidden under the Specter Speeder. "It's May ninth. Do you know what that means, Jack?"

His dad had finally found the torque wrench with one massive hand and was now distractedly adjusting something Danny couldn't see. His heart sank just a little bit when he saw where this was going.

"Ninth, ninth, ninth. Ninth! … Ninth?" Jack didn't stop working on the vehicle as he muttered to himself. "Nope! Still not catching your drift." His voice was entirely too cheery.

"Our anniversary, dear."

"Uh huh, I'll torque it right up. Wait, what?" Jack made to sit up suddenly as he realized, banging his head on the bottom of the speeder as he did.

Maddie's small hopeful smile had vanished into a scowl as she stared down at her husband scrambling to get up, rubbing his head. "The one you forgot. Again. For the eighteenth year in a row."

Once again, the unbidden voice of Vlad basically purred with satisfaction in Danny's ear. "Predictable. He always chooses his toys over the people around him."

Danny decided to forget about the sparking argument behind him and hunched over his notebook again, pretending to do homework. He ducked his head and scribbled nonsense onto a blank page, anything to look occupied. "This isn't real, this isn't real," he hissed under his breath.

His parents thankfully didn't notice him. Jack was pulling out from under the Speeder like a car mechanic. "Oh, no, Maddie, I didn't--"

"Don't," Maddie snapped at him, cutting him off. "You did. Enjoy your Speeder."

She stormed back upstairs, leaving Jack looking lost and Danny trying to get a grip on himself. The door slammed, but then immediately reopened with Jazz sticking her head through it to look into the basement.

"Nice going, Dad," Danny's sister said flatly.

The voice spoke again. "Yes, 'Dad'. A word he never lives up to."

Danny gripped his notebook so tightly he threatened to break its flimsy glued spine. "Shut up, shut up," he hissed.

Jazz seemed to notice Danny's distress and frowned at him with concern. "... Are you okay? You look like you're gonna be sick."

As Danny, frazzled, tried to wave off his sister, Jack seemed not to notice the exchange and sat back down, looking at the Speeder with a miserable expression. "I'll just… finish this first. Then Maddie will see. Then--"

Danny didn't hear the rest of it, because Vlad kept talking. "He'll never change, Daniel. He'll always put ghosts and gadgets before his own family."

He'd had enough, and snapped his response. "He's still my dad!" It came out louder than he meant it to, and both his dad and sister blinked at him in confusion, with the former shrugging and going back to work. Jazz narrowed her eyes.

"Who are you talking to?"

Danny froze, then busied himself with packing up his homework to get ready to go to school.

The cold chuckle of the voice in his head sounded next to him as Danny frantically moved to excuse himself from the room, Jazz watching him in suspicion. "Ah, so you can hear me. Good. That will make this arrangement far less lonely."

The Casper High hallways bustled with activity as students socialized, got ready for class, or otherwise moved about in amorphous masses of cliques and clubs. Danny walked alongside Sam and Tucker towards their lockers, but he was visibly jumpy and nervous; eyes darting, shoulders hunched like he was trying to hide between them, occasionally looking over his shoulder. His friends exchanged looks; they'd seen him twitchy before, but not like this.

What really wasn't helping was Vlad's silky-smooth voice sounding behind him, too close. "Daniel, relax. Your paranoia is practically broadcasting to the entire school." He sounded gratingly amused.

"I'm not paranoid!" Danny snapped quietly. Only Tucker and Sam heard him, and they mostly just blinked in response.

"Uh… okay?" Sam tried. "Nobody said you were."

"Dude, you've been talking to yourself all morning," Tucker added. "Not a great look."

As Danny pressed his lips together and shook his head, Vlad chuckled, and when he spoke, Danny could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Oh, dear. Speaking aloud to voices only you can hear? They'll have you committed before lunch."

"You're not helping," Danny grumbled.

Sam's brow furrowed. "How are we not helping?"

He waved his hands, stammering out an excuse. "No, no, not you two. Uh. Just…" Danny paused, then sighed, defeated. "... Talking to myself."

"See?" Tucker chimed in.

After a brief dirty look at his friend, Danny groaned and rubbed his temple. As they approached their lockers, Danny slowed to a stop, trying to think of what to say or what to do about the voice in his head. Was he just going crazy? Ghost powers finally making him snap? The others looked at each other with concern, but didn't say anything; they could only be told "I'm fine" so many times. Danny leaned against his locker, wondering how to explain things. He hesitantly opened his mouth--

"Duck."

-- and was interrupted by a sharp, firm command from Vlad. Danny jumped, instinctively bending low like he'd just heard the warning from a friend in a ghost fight-- and no sooner did he do that than the crunch of metal sounded directly above his head. He looked up at the source, alarmed, to see a big meaty arm had slammed into the locker where his head had just been.

"Hey, Fenton!" came Dash's loud jeering voice. "Quit hogging the hallway with your freak-show friends!" Laughing, the other boy withdrew his arm and kept rushing down the hall as Danny straightened up, shaken.

Sam and Tucker scowled after Dash. "Jerk," Sam muttered, before turning to look at the locker, which had a faint dent in it now. "You okay, Danny?"

Laughter from Vlad was echoing in Danny's ears, and he just gave a quietly distracted "Yeah, I'm… fine" in response. He didn't sound entirely convinced, even to himself.

"You see, Daniel?" Vlad asked, teasing. "I am no mere figment of your imagination."

Danny swallowed nervously, busying himself with opening his locker to get ready for class. If Vlad wasn't a hallucination, then what was happening?

Class wasn't any better. As Mr Lancer droned on about the Cold War-- the man was somehow the trio's teacher for half their classes-- Danny sat at his desk, chin propped up, trying to forget about the voice nobody else could hear. He'd even caught Vlad's reflection in the window at one point, but of course nobody else saw it. He glanced at his friends. Tucker was scribbling something that definitely wasn't notes, and Sam was watching the projection slides with the exact expression of someone quietly judging the failings of society.

Over it all, Vlad's smooth voice sounded in Danny's ear like a private radio.

"You're slouching again, Daniel," he was saying, smugly corrective. "Do you want to look like you don't care, or is this an attempt at camouflage?"

"Go away," Danny muttered, not bothering to look around this time.

Sam glanced over, puzzled by the sudden comment. "What'd you say?"

Danny quickly shook his head and whispered back. "Nothing. Uh, talking to myself again."

Tucker snorted. "Classic."

Ignoring the exchange, Vlad continued on in a mock-thoughtful voice as Danny desperately tried to ignore him by fidgeting with his pencil. "Mm. Listen to Lancer, Daniel, he's explaining deterrence theory. But, ah, he makes it sound so simplistic." Vlad chuckled. "Imagine that, Mutually Assured Destruction for the sake of security rather than ego."

Closing his eyes, Danny hissed back under his breath. "Not listening."

The voice turned sharp, admonishing. "You are listening," Vlad cut in. "That's the problem. If you weren't, you wouldn't be arguing with me. You can't help yourself."

His fingers tightened around the pencil until it threatened to snap.

Lancer turned around at the front of the class, eyes locked on Danny. "Mister Fenton!" Danny's response was to jump with a small yelp, dropping his pencil as the class turned to look at him. Lancer looked unimpressed. "Since you're clearly so invested in this lesson, perhaps you can answer me. The Cuban Missile Crisis ended when…?"

Danny froze, opening his mouth silently, not sure what to say.

Almost instantly, Vlad cut in. "After a quiet truce," he supplied coolly. "Khrushchev removed Soviet missiles from Cuba, and so Kennedy withdrew American missiles from Turkey." The barest pause. "Answer him, Daniel."

"Um-- uh--" Danny stammered at first, before finding the ability to speak again. "The US… removed their missiles from Turkey, and… the Soviets… backed off Cuba?"

Lancer blinked at him.

"… Correct," the teacher finally said, sounding impressed. He turned back to the projection slide. "Perhaps you are paying attention, after all."

The class turned away and Danny slumped down further in his chair, chest pounding. Tucker and Sam stared at him.

"Dude. You were not paying attention." Tucker's eyes were wide. "How did you know that?"

"I… I guessed?" Danny tried weakly.

Sam narrowed her eyes. "You guessed that."

His reply came too quickly and sounded like an excuse. "Y-yeah, total guess."

As class went on, Vlad chuckled in his ear. "Better. Do you see?" His voice was warm, pleased. "I won't let you humiliate yourself. You'll learn, Daniel… even if I have to drag you."

He swallowed hard and took a nervous breath, forcing his eyes back to the front of the class, trying to pretend he wasn't trembling.

Lunch should have been a reprieve but wasn't. Whatever was going on, Vlad had decided to actually appear in something other than a reflection, and of course nobody else saw him. The maybe-hallucination lounged, sitting on the edge of the trio's lunch table, as Danny hunched over his lunch tray, poking at the unidentifiable slop he'd been served. Tucker and Sam leaned in, whispering, the concern evident in their tones.

"Dude, you've been spacey all day," Tucker was saying. "You didn't even laugh when Lancer tripped on the projector cord. That's like, peak comedy."

"And in English, you rattled off that Shakespeare quote like you'd actually read the book," Sam added. She squinted at him. "You never read the book."

Danny flinched, glancing to the side where Vlad was inspecting his fingernails, and muttered a response, looking down at his lunch. "I just… got lucky."

"A shame your friends can't appreciate the value of proper education," Vlad drawled. "Public school is such a waste. No rigor. No refinement. Your talents shouldn't be squandered rotting away in this cafeteria."

"Not helping," Danny grumbled back, more annoyed than anything.

Leaning back, Tucker and Sam looked at each other before going back to Danny. "Not helping what?" Sam asked.

"You've been muttering to yourself since this morning," Tucker pointed out. "What's going on, man?"

"I'm fine," was Danny's already-repetitive excuse. "Just… tired, I think."

"'I'm fine,' he says," Vlad chuckled. "You sound like your father right before blowing up some new ill-conceived invention."

He'd had it. "Shut up!" Danny snapped, louder than intended and pounding the table with a fist, looking at where Vlad sat and smirked back at him.

There was silence for a beat. A few kids from neighboring tables looked over at the outburst before going back to their food. His friends just stared at him for a few seconds.

Then Sam leaned forward, voice low again, with a new tone in it-- not confused or suspicious this time, but careful, almost gentle. "Danny… there's no one there. Who are you talking to?"

Overwhelmed, Danny ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his head. Then he ended up putting his face in both hands for a moment. "Nobody." His voice was muffled. "Forget it."

"I don't understand why you don't just tell them," was Vlad's input. "Surely your loyal companions would be able to understand your situation. You're seeing and hearing a man you barely know when nobody else can. Quite simple."

Danny stood suddenly, trying to ignore the needling. "I think I just need air," he excused himself. "I'll… see you guys later." He rather hastily left, not quite running but also faster than a casual walk. His friends stared after him until he was out the door and out of sight.

Tucker broke the silence first. "... Okay, that was not just 'tired'."

"No kidding," Sam muttered, frowning. "He's hiding something. Again. And this time, it's worse."

He'd done a rather good job of avoiding his friends for the rest of the school day. They only saw Danny in the classes they all shared, and he ducked away from them between classes. And finally, the dismissal bell rang, and Danny practically ran to the front doors, weaving around clusters of students and even outright ignoring Dash jeering after him.

Tucker and Sam would not be deterred, however. They ran to catch up with him just outside the school, flanking Danny and keeping pace while they kept trying to drag an actual answer out of him.

"Danny! Wait up!" Sam called out, trying to get ahead of him.

When Danny didn't slow, Tucker moved up beside him. "You bailed on us at lunch and now you're just booking it home?" He sounded almost offended, but mostly worried. "Dude, tell us what's going on."

"Nothing," Danny replied shortly, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him. "I just wanna get home."

"You've been twitchy and talking to yourself all day," Sam rebuked. "That's not nothing."

Vlad, who had mercifully stopped physically appearing but had kept up his needling "advice", chose then to chime in. "See how they circle you, Daniel? Like vultures sensing weakness."

"Shut up," Danny muttered under his breath.

Tucker blinked at him, but thankfully didn't seem to have actually heard what Danny said. "Uh, what?"

"Nothing," he replied, too quickly. "I mean--" Danny gave a harsh sigh and rubbed his temple. "Ugh, nevermind."

At that, Sam stopped right in front of him, hands on her hips. "Okay, no. You don't get to 'nevermind' us." She glared at him as Danny just looked back at her, fatigued and unimpressed. "Not when you're spacing out, talking to yourself, and snapping at thin air."

"Guys, really, I just… I'm tired, okay?" Exasperation had crept into Danny's tone. "I didn't… sleep much last night. Ghost stuff. You know how it is."

"Ghost stuff doesn't usually make you yell at empty space in the cafeteria," Tucker returned, skeptical.

"Or magically guess answers in class when you definitely weren't paying attention," Sam added.

Vlad's polished goading was another layer Danny really didn't want to deal with right this second. "And here it comes," he was saying. "The suspicion. Do you think they'll believe the truth, Daniel?" The tone was curious, conversational, rather than sarcastic and mocking. There was a beat of silence. "Or will they decide you've simply lost your mind?"

"That's not what's happening!" Danny shot back in a low whisper, but louder than he'd intended it to. The heads of nearby students turned for a few seconds before losing interest, and he realized he was drawing attention. Danny ducked his head as if trying to hide, moved around Sam, and continued walking briskly. Sam and Tucker hurried to keep up.

"Danny, seriously, we're getting freaked out," Tucker pleaded. "Just tell us what's happening. Please."

"I can't, okay?" It was harsher than he'd meant it to be, almost desperate. "Just… drop it, alright?"

There was an awkward silence as Danny kept moving for a few steps before realizing Sam and Tucker had stopped walking. He looked over his shoulder and slowed at seeing their faces-- stricken and worried. He stopped fully, opened his mouth to say something… then closed it again in silence, torn.

"Excellent job," Vlad drawled at him. "Snap at them, push them away. See how their trust crumbles at the slightest pressure."

He didn't answer this time, because Sam spoke up at the same time, looking hurt. "... Wow. Okay."

"You don't have to bite our heads off, dude," Tucker added, dejected. "We're just… worried."

It took him a few tries to get anything out. "I… I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean… Just… Look, guys, I can't explain right now."

"Then when will you?" Sam challenged, but her tone was less angry now. "Because this is worse than usual, Danny, and if you keep pretending it's fine…" She didn't finish. Vlad took the opportunity to chime in again.

"Listen to her, Daniel," he said smoothly, but with a coldness to it. "She already thinks you're fragile. One of these days she'll decide you're broken beyond repair."

"Shut up," he grumbled back.

Tucker sighed. "You're doing it again."

The three of them kept walking for a few minutes in tense silence, Danny trying to stay focused on where he was walking, Sam and Tucker behind him, exchanging uneasy looks. He wasn't making any effort to ditch them, but his pace was brisk, making them work to keep up with him. They'd just get to Fentonworks anyway, there wasn't a point in trying to outrun them.

After an uncomfortable stretch of time, Sam leaned over to Tucker and whispered out of Danny's earshot. "Something's definitely wrong."

Tucker's reply was quiet as well. "Yeah. Bad wrong."

Danny didn't hear them-- but strangely enough, Vlad seemed to. "Ah, the vultures. Circling, waiting for you to stumble. And you can't even bring yourself to tell them why." He just hunched further, gripping one of his backpack straps more tightly. Vlad's voice seemed entirely too satisfied. After a moment Danny sped his pace, breaking ahead of his friends, who just watched him as they kept their own pace. Frustration and worry were clearly written on their expressions.

"This is worse than the time he kept blowing us off because he was popular for a day," Tucker grumbled.

But Sam's voice was firm, decisive. "No. This is different. He's hiding something big."

They kept walking, keeping Danny in sight, trailing him back to Fentonworks. Something told them that "alone time" wasn't exactly what Danny needed right now.

At some point, Danny had outpaced them enough to be at least half a block ahead of Tucker and Sam, no longer in earshot and keeping his shoulders hunched with eyes on the ground. The pair discussed in hushed tones as they neared Fentonworks.

"Okay, so we're officially stalking our best friend," Tucker remarked, adjusting his backpack slightly. "Just want that on the record."

"We're not stalking, we're following," Sam corrected flatly, her eyes not leaving Danny as he marched past Jazz's car and up the steps to the door. "There's a difference."

"Barely," Tucker mumbled.

The two slowed down as Danny seemed to fumble with his keys, then sped up again when he got the right one and let himself in without even looking around. They managed to get to the corner of the yard by the time Danny closed the door behind himself, close enough to see Jazz on the front couch, listening to music and looking up as Danny entered. If Danny said anything to her, they couldn't hear it, but Jazz took out an earbud as he breezed past, calling after him. "Uh-- hey? You okay?"

Danny didn't slow down, which probably meant he didn't reply beyond the short, vague wave he gave her without looking back. Jazz frowned at him, muttered something they couldn’t make out, and hesitated a moment before shaking her head and putting her earbud back in. Then Danny vanished from view, headed toward the lab.

Tucker and Sam darted around the corner of the building to find one of the exterior basement windows.

By the time they got there, Danny was already in ghost form, floating in the middle of the lab. He looked tense, his mouth was moving, and his eyes were focused on a specific point like he was looking at something. Occasionally he would gesture with his hands, a jerky, defensive motion. The two looked at each other.

"He's… talking," Sam whispered. "Like, having a conversation with someone."

Tucker swallowed. "Yeah, but… there's nobody there."

Danny’s voice rose, his tone sharp enough to carry through the glass even if the words themselves didn’t quite reach. Tucker and Sam ducked instinctively, crouching low against the ground as Danny drifted closer to their window.

Sam’s whisper was urgent. "Okay. That’s not normal. That’s not just tired or stressed out."

Tucker glanced back toward the front door, then toward the basement. "… We should probably get down there."

Sam nodded, still watching Danny arguing with something he couldn't see. "… Yeah. If he sees someone there, we need to find out who."

When the two actually entered the house, Jazz just looked up from her music player, gave them both one look, and jerked her thumb in the direction of the lab. Hastily-given thanks followed them as they rushed for the stairs. But when they'd nearly crossed the threshold into the basement proper, Sam stuck out her arm to block Tucker's advance and put a lip to her fingers. Instead of directly getting involved, for now, they would watch.

Danny had stopped floating by now and was pacing restlessly, not noticing his two best friends hiding in the shadowed stairway. The portal had been turned on at some point, and it was now casting its eerie green light across the metal of the lab. Of course, Danny was still talking to something only he could hear, and this time he was speaking at a normal volume.

"No, that's not-- ugh. Just… stop, okay?" He seemed to be replying, angry and tired. His pacing carried him toward a table piled with scrap metal and half-finished inventions. Instead of stopping, turning around, or walking around it, he briefly went intangible and simply moved through it.

Of course, while Sam and Tucker could hear Danny's frustrated end of the conversation, they didn't hear the person he was talking to. "Good heavens, Daniel. You call that a phase?" Vlad goaded, smugly in Danny's ear, pacing alongside him. "You look more like a child fumbling in the dark than a ghost with dignity."

Danny flinched as he left the table, control flickering just enough that his motion carried something that looked like a cannibalized waffle iron off the table and sending it clattering to the floor. "Shut up, shut up!" He didn't bother with the fallen appliance, just glared at Vlad before walking into the clearer space next to the Specter Speeder.

Which just looked like him staring at nothing again, to Sam and Tucker. The latter frowned, muttering to Sam, "Okay, there's definitely someone else there."

"Yeah," Sam replied, voice low. "Question is who, and what it wants."

Vlad, meanwhile, was circling Danny's position as the boy stopped pacing. "Dear boy, you're unraveling already," he said smugly. "Losing your temper over nothing, clumsy, distracted. Too embarrassed- or stubborn- to even ask me what's going on."

"I said shut up!" Danny snapped, making a sharp pivot to face Vlad, sending another gadget off a table with an elbow. Metal clattered to the floor, startling him into taking a half-step away from the source of the noise.

"Ah, there it is," Vlad purred, but there was a sharpness to it. "You're panicking, my boy. Useful, at times, but not terribly productive right now." He circled around Danny again, placing his hand on the teen's shoulder. Danny jumped and whirled around like he'd actually felt the touch, backing up away from it-- stepping right on one of the inventions he'd knocked over.

He wasn't expecting there to be something there and reflex sent him stumbling back, tripping backwards into the glowing green. Tucker and Sam bolted forward as if trying to help--

"Danny, wait!"

-- but it was already too late: with an alarmed yelp, Danny had fallen through the Fenton Ghost Portal and disappeared from view.

The two of them stood for a moment. The lab was dead silent now, save for the faint hum of the active portal, and it took them both a few seconds to process before speaking.

"He--" Tucker started, thin thread of panic in his voice, "he just… fell in!"

"Or something pushed him, or grabbed him, or--" Sam cut herself off, shaking her head. "I don't know-- either way, he's gone."

The kids walked further into the lab, scanning around for anything remotely helpful. Everything either looked incomplete or entirely alien to them-- beeping tubes with wires sticking out all over, broken appliances that were clearly in the process of being turned into something else, lots and lots of unidentifiable devices with Jack's face on them. Nothing made sense or looked useful.

Tucker was rifling through a pile of metal on the table, muttering in frustration. "I don't even know what half this junk is. How does Mr Fenton do anything with this?"

"I don't know," Sam replied tersely, dropping something that looked like a vacuum motor. "But we can't just stand here. He's in there… wherever there is."

They both looked at the Specter Speeder. Unmistakably a vehicle, but they didn't know how to work it. Or if it was even finished.

"It's a big shuttle thing parked in front of the Ghost Portal," Tucker pointed out, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Then… that's our ride." Sam sounded decisive.

The two exchanged an uneasy, nervous look. Tucker swallowed, Sam set her shoulders in determination, and both stepped toward the Speeder.

Danny found himself tumbling head over heels into a vast, eerie expanse. It took him several seconds to get himself to float upright, though Vlad seemed perfectly at ease, as usual. After righting himself, he looked around at the endless green. Doors to nowhere, floating rocks, swirls of green mist, the distant shapes of figures he couldn't quite discern.

"Great," he groaned. "Perfect. Exactly what I needed today."

Vlad seemed amused. "Careful now. This isn't Amity Park. This is the Ghost Zone." Through the amusement, there was a thread of seriousness in his voice, like it wasn't just fun and games anymore.

Danny didn't bother telling Vlad to shut up this time, just looked out at the distance, trying to figure out how to proceed. See what there was to see. "Right. So this is where all those ghosts have been coming from?"

"Correct, my boy." Now Vlad sounded pleased, like he was a teacher whose student had answered a question correctly. "It's also where ghosts go when you empty the thermos. So do stay alert; you've made a lot of enemies in a very short time."

"Well, that makes things harder," Danny muttered to himself. Vlad simply chuckled softly.

"I do hope you're paying attention, Daniel."

He didn't have time to respond, or ask Vlad what he was supposed to be paying attention to. Suddenly, a troop of armored ghosts came into view, scanning the area before one of them pointed out Danny. Sensing trouble, the boy froze for a second, then flew behind a jagged floating rock to try to think the situation through. Too many to fight at once. He'd lost track of where the portal had spat him out. Maybe if he could--

"Unauthorized presence detected!" one of the ghosts shouted after him. "You there! Halt!"

No time to think, then. Danny zipped away, trying to outfly the group, which was already hot on his tail. "Of course!" Danny complained as he tried to fly away, dodging green blasts of ectoplasm. "Of course I get chased less than two minutes after I come here! Because why not?!"

Vlad kept up with an almost aggravating calm, still in human form. "I told you, this isn't Amity Park," he said conversationally. "The Ghost Zone is harsher, more hostile. You'll need to learn how to survive here if your training is to mean anything."

"Hey, Vlad, if you're real, do you think you could help?" Danny shot back, frustrated.

"I could," the man replied, mock pleasant, "but I'm quite sure you can get out of this situation without my direct intervention. Consider this part of your training, Daniel. You'll thank me later."

"… Yeah, great. Thanks," Danny just grumbled under his breath as he kept flying.

A dim, eerie light filtered through the Specter Speeder's windshield, bathing the cockpit in a ghostly green. With Sam on controls and Tucker working his PDA into the navigation systems, the two had settled into a tense silence once the Speeder had entered the Ghost Zone. It was a few minutes of uneasily adjusting and focusing on processing their surroundings before Tucker broke the silence.

"So… we're actually here," he said nervously, fidgeting with the wire connecting his PDA to the console, trying to make sense of it. "In the Ghost Zone. Driving a giant ghost shuttle. That we barely know how to fly." Something inside the machine clanked loudly, but that had been happening enough that Tucker ignored it.

Sam didn't look at him, focusing on the controls and not flying into a rock. "And Danny's out here somewhere. We still don't know what he's dealing with."

The radar pinged something, a small cluster of ghosts, and Tucker leaned forward to squint out the window. "Got a group of… something. Heading this way. They're all armored and stuff." He sat back, fiddling with his PDA to try to get a camera view. "Looks like a patrol or something?"

Pulling the controls so that the Speeder would head away from the group of armored ghosts, Sam narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to find out. We don't know how fast this thing can actually go."

"It's called the Specter Speeder, Sam."

"Do you trust Danny's dad to actually give it speed?"

"Point taken," Tucker sighed. He looked out the window at the distant patrol. "What if they know where Danny is, though?"

Sam looked conflicted at that. "… We could follow them?" She offered. "Safe distance, stay unseen. No fights unless we have to."

"Do we even have weapons?" Tucker asked, looking at the controls as if he expected there to be a button labeled "Cloaking" or "Ecto-Gun". There wasn't, of course. Nothing was labeled. There was a big red button surrounded by a ghost icon, but that could mean anything from "anti-ghost weapon" to "fly away super fast because there's a ghost". Otherwise everything was either some kind of screen or a button without any indication what it was for.

"Don't touch anything unless you know what it does, Tucker," Sam said, as if she was reading his mind. "Look, let's just… follow from a distance, okay? They've got to be going somewhere. They could lead us to Danny."

Tucker tightened his lips. "And what if they turn around and attack us?"

There was a pause. "We'll… deal with that when it happens," Sam decided. "It's not like we have much of a choice. Look at this place. We could be here for days and not find him."

They exchanged a glance. The humming of the shuttle picked up as Sam turned it back toward the distant patrol, accelerating to keep them in view without getting so close that they'd be spotted. They stopped conversing, with both focused on different things-- Tucker using his PDA to try to get the dashboard in a more human-readable format, and Sam keeping the Speeder on-course.

"Danny…" Sam mumbled, "wherever you are, we're coming. Hold on."

Danny was a black and silver blur as he streaked through the void of the Ghost Zone, the guards hot in pursuit. He wove through floating rocks and stray doors, past mini-islands with jungles and castles and strange terrain he'd probably try to make sense of if he wasn't flying for his life. Vlad, of course, simply drifted casually beside him, unfazed by the chaos.

"Just can't catch a break today," Danny muttered to himself.

He was answered by one of the guards booming after him. "Halt, unauthorized entity! Come quietly or face an increased sentence!"

He darted behind a rock, pressing himself against it, trying to stay hidden. Vlad leaned lazily in midair, arms clasped behind his back, speaking as though this was a classroom. "You could try diplomacy, you know," he said, tone almost helpful. "Ask nicely. Perhaps you'll be cuffed with silk instead of iron."

Danny responded with a glare at first, then peeked around the rock to see where the guards were. "Yeah, thanks," he whispered. "Real helpful."

The guards were fanning out, pulling out something like oversized flashlights. Searchlight beams swept across his hiding spot, nearly exposing him. Danny shot upward at the last second, just out of view, and for a heartbeat he was safe.

"Okay," he mumbled to himself, relieved. "Maybe I can--"

A net of glowing ecto-energy suddenly whipped around him from behind, thrown by a second patrol group he hadn't seen, probably responding to the first's call for backup. Danny yelped as it closed around him with a crackle, trapping him. He thrashed, trying to phase out, trying to blast it open, but it resisted his efforts.

"Let me go!" he shouted at them.

"Resistance logged," one guard replied, floating forward with what looked like a clipboard, barely looking at Danny. "Additional charges applied."

"Save your energy, Daniel, this net was made to trap ghosts," Vlad signed, somewhere between disappointed and corrective. Danny stumbled in midair as the guards yanked him downward. "You won't be able to get out of it without help. Perhaps next time, you'll listen to my advice?"

"You wanted this to happen," Danny accused, before the guards yanked him upright again, ignoring the outburst. One shot at him with what looked like a baton, and Danny flinched, preparing for the blow… but all that happened was that his wrists and ankles were now bound with ectoplasmic cuffs.

"Unauthorized presence neutralized," the guard continued, sounding bored and metallic. "You'll come with us."

Danny squirmed in the net, but the guards ignored his struggling, simply hauling him with them like cargo. "Great. Just great," he said to himself bitterly, looking around at all the guards that had come after him. "First I'm going crazy, now I'm going to ghost jail."

Vlad drifted close enough that Danny instinctively flinched, but otherwise simply kept pace as the guards dragged Danny away in formation. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere," he remarked, pleased. "Oh, and do say hello to Walker for me, would you? We go way back."

He didn't answer, instead looking toward where they were taking him. In the distance was what looked like a massive purple fortress, complete with high walls and watchtowers, a stereotypical prison in the Ghost Zone. The closer they flew, the more details stood out to him. Spotlights sweeping what passed for a sky here, barbed wire topping the walls, armored ghosts patrolling the outside. Even from here, it felt oppressive and hungry.

"Keep your wits about you, Daniel." The teasing had gone from Vlad's voice, replaced with a deadly seriousness. "Walker isn't the forgiving type."

Danny gulped, the cuffs digging in as he reflexively tried to fidget. The fortress loomed larger and larger as they neared. The stationed guards turned to watch him be brought forth, silently waiting as if watching fresh meat be delivered. Whatever happened next, he knew it wouldn't be good-- and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Rule 68: Unauthorized entry into the Ghost Zone. Rule 173: Resisting arrest."

Danny sat on a lone chair in what he quickly discovered was the warden's office, already forced into striped clothing and chained down so he wouldn't escape. In front of him paced a tall ghost in a white suit-- Walker, he'd been told. Vlad lounged nearby, leaning against Walker's desk, watching the proceedings; the teasing had died down a little and he'd actually seemed quite interested in the surroundings, but when they entered the office Vlad's face had taken on that sly, smug look again.

"Rule 224: Reckless portal usage," Walker continued, looking in his massive rulebook instead of at Danny. "Rule 422-b: Failure to file for an official visitation pass. Rule 809: Improper attire. Rule--"

"Improper attire?" Danny muttered under his breath as Walker droned on. "I'm literally just wearing clothes…"

"Consider it a lesson in presentation, Daniel," Vlad chimed in, sounding parental. "First impressions matter, especially in prison."

"Would you shut up?" Danny hissed back.

Walker snapped his gaze away from the book and glared at Danny. "What was that, punk?"

Danny startled, jerking back in his chair. "N-nothing!" he blurted hastily. "I wasn't talking to you, I just--"

"Oh, by all means, keep digging in your heels." Vlad sounded unimpressed, like Danny had done something unwise. "It'll be a learning experience for you, at least."

Once again, he'd had enough. "I said shut up!" he snapped, glaring at Vlad, but Walker obviously couldn't see that. The ghost turned to fully face him, bristling, face steely.

"Rule 13! Disrespecting an officer of the law! That's a jailing offense." The book snapped closed with a crack.

Danny tried to backpedal. "W-wait! I wasn't even--"

Vlad chose that moment to cut in again, smooth. "Bravo, Daniel. You've managed to insult the warden himself. And all because of that temper of yours." Guards entered the room, and Walker jabbed his book in Danny's direction. "This prison system is quite the marvel, don't you think? All these rules… anything and everything disallowed. A perfect trap for the unwary."

At the same time, Walker was barking commands to his staff. "Take him to the cells. We'll see how long you last before you learn respect for my rules, punk." The guards surged forward, unhooking his chains from the chair while simultaneously grabbing hold of him like luggage. "Cell block C. He'll learn soon enough that there are no excuses in my prison. Only rules."

The Specter Speeder hovered in the green haze of the Ghost Zone, a safe distance away from the massive purple fortress that was clearly some sort of prison. The walls loomed impossibly tall, crowned with coils of glowing barbed wire (though how that was supposed to stop flying ghosts was anyone's guess). Towers rose at each corner, spotlights sweeping the vicinity, and Sam had parked the Speeder in a position where those lights would be blocked by the huge floating rocks that littered the dimension.

Hunched over his PDA, Tucker adjusted the makeshift camera feed he'd managed to redirect from the console. "Okay… okay, so that's it. This has to be a prison or something. No mistaking it for anything else."

Sam's knuckles were white from the iron grip she had on the controls, even as the Speeder simply drifted in place. The two watched the patrols circle, putting in perspective just how huge of a scale the place was on. They sat in silence for a few seconds until Tucker cleared his throat.

"But, uh, we don't even know if Danny's in there," he continued, grinning nervously like it was an excuse to not storm the place. "For all we know, he's out there running from the patrols. Or got kidnapped by Skulker. Or… anything else."

"He's in there." Sam's voice was flat, unwavering. "I just know it."

As if to prove her right, movement flickered across the camera feed. A small procession of guards emerged from a side building-- dragging Danny in chains with them. The boy thrashed, muffled shouts echoing faintly even from this distance. Sam and Tucker leaned forward, eyes wide.

"That's him!" Tucker exclaimed.

"And they've already got him chained up like some criminal," Sam added, fire in her voice.

They sat frozen for a moment, watching helplessly as the guards hauled a fiercely-struggling Danny deeper into the compound. The heavy doors of the prison building proper swung wide open to accept them, then slammed shut once they were through, and he was gone.

"… Okay… okay, we just--" Tucker started after another stretch of silence, "we just… have to break him out. Right?"

Sam stared at him.

Tucker kept going, though not without a wince. "I mean-- what else do we do? They've got him in there, in ghost jail. We can't just sit here!"

She spoke through clenched teeth. "You think I don't know that?" Sam looked out over the fortress, ducking instinctively as a spotlight coincidentally turned in their direction. They weren't spotted, of course, but her grip on the joysticks didn't ease. "Every prison has a weakness," she said after a moment. "There's always a way in. We just gotta find it."

Tucker nodded, but seemed uncertain. "Yeah. Or we could, uh, make one? I mean, this thing's got to have weapons, right?" He gestured helplessly at the console, a mess of unlabeled buttons and esoteric screens. The large red button with the ghost symbol was looking more tempting.

Sam followed his gaze, then shot him a glare. "Not unless you want to blow us up before we even get near the wall."

"I was just asking," Tucker muttered defensively.

There was a pause as a ghost patrol flew a little too close, but it passed them by in a disciplined formation. "We'll… sneak in," Sam decided. "Get in, get Danny, get out."

"Sam," Tucker started flatly, "this is a prison designed to hold ghosts. You know, things that can walk through walls, disappear, and fly? If it can hold them, how are we supposed to… you know, get in, let alone get out?"

Sam didn't answer, just looking at the prison with an expression of sheer determination. Tucker exhaled hard, leaning back in his chair and dragging a hand down his face. When he was done, there was a look of resignation, but also conviction, on it.

"Okay." He straightened up. "Plan A: sneak in. Plan B: smash in. Plan C: … pray Danny buys us enough time to think up something better."

"No, Plan A is to get him out," Sam corrected without hesitation, leaving no room for doubt. "No matter what it takes."

The cell that Danny was roughly shoved into was more like a containment chamber than a real room. The walls pulsed with energy at regular intervals like a heartbeat, chains dangled from the ceiling like a threat, and there was a single barred window that showed nothing but the shifting green expanse that was the Ghost Zone. There wasn't an actual bed; there was simply a stone slab shoved in the corner of the space, and the door was more of an array of vertical ectoplasmic bars.

Vlad was already pointing things out as the "door" squealed shut behind Danny. "Now, look around at this room. The ward on the walls suppresses your ghost powers. The chains are there as a reminder of what could be done to you." He almost sounded impressed alongside the teacherly tone. "This sends the message to an inmate: comfort is irrelevant; what matters is control."

Danny was barely listening, instead turning to face the hall outside his cell-- and seeing exactly what he didn't want to deal with. Hostile ghosts lined the block, familiar faces: Skulker, Desiree, Technus, other ghosts Danny had fought and sent back to the Ghost Zone. All of them were glaring daggers at the newcomer, some grinning with malice.

"Oh, great," Danny whispered, panicking a little. "Just great. Stuck in here with… everyone."

"Relax, Daniel," Vlad intoned dryly. "Ghost prisons are like any other confinement system. Establish dominance quickly, don't show fear, and- most importantly- don't make threats you can't back up."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one actually in here!"

"And yet, I seem to be the only thing standing between you and an ectoplasmic mauling," Vlad remarked. "Do keep up."

Not hearing the exchange, Skulker stepped closer to the front of his cell, cracking his mechanical knuckles. "Well, well, if it isn't the little whelp. Stripped of his fancy toys, no less."

But Vlad was already speaking. "Don't let him finish," he cut in calmly. "Interrupt him. Predators like him thrive on their theatrics."

"This'll be--"

"Nobody cares about your monologues, Skulker!" Danny blurted, not entirely sure what he was going to say until it was already out of his mouth.

The cell block went quiet. Skulker froze mid-sentence, caught off guard. Danny realized, too late, what he had said.

"Uh," he stammered, "w-what I mean is…"

"Better," Vlad praised, sounding pleased. "Now. Keep your posture upright, shoulders squared. Pretend you aren't terrified."

Danny closed his mouth and straightened up awkwardly, clenching his fists. It was a clumsy effort, but it seemed to look enough like defiance to confuse the onlookers. Skulker narrowed his eyes, giving sidelong glances to the other ghosts, before focusing back on Danny.

"You're bolder than usual, whelp. Still no match for me, but bolder."

"He wasn't this mouthy last time," Desiree muttered.

"Yes!" Technus boomed in his too-loud voice. "Something is different! Perhaps he has had an upgrade!"

Danny gritted his teeth and turned away from the others so they wouldn't see him talking to nobody. "Could you maybe help me not make them more suspicious?"

"On the contrary, Daniel, confusion is a weapon," Vlad replied, sitting on the edge of the stone slab that served as the bed. "Let them wonder if you've grown sharper, or if you have an ally."

The boy gulped, realizing Vlad was doing this on purpose. Playing the long game, even here. Ghost prison, just business as usual. Somehow it was both reassuring and maddening at the same time. Danny slumped again and sat on the stone slab next to Vlad, bravado slipping the moment nobody was watching him.

"I hate you so much right now," he said under his breath.

Vlad chuckled, smirking like a cat with cream. "You'll thank me later, little badger. After you survive."

They'd edged closer to the compound, using the floating boulders to find blind spots and shelter from the searchlights and patrols. Tucker still hadn't found a cloaking button, so they tucked themselves into shadow, a spot where they'd noticed the guards didn't bother to patrol. They crouched low to the dashboard as if that'd help the Speeder stay hidden, strategizing in hushed tones.

"Okay. Guard patrol just passed the west wall. At least, I think that's west." Tucker peered at his PDA camera feed. "If we loop around behind that rock, we might get close to a service entrance." Pause. "Emphasis on might."

"Good enough," Sam decided, hands already on the controls again. "Moving."

The shuttle drifted forward slowly, slipping from shadow to shadow as the searchlights continued sweeping the area. Sam jerked the ship downward at the last second, narrowly evading a patrol drifting overhead. Both of them froze, holding their breath, but the patrol simply passed by without incident.

"You are going to give me a heart attack." Tucker's whisper was hoarse.

"Relax," Sam hissed back. "They didn't see us."

Tucker checked his PDA again. "Yeah, but one wrong move and we're toast out here."

Sam maneuvered the Speeder closer to the wall-- lower, nearly out of sight. They hovered there, looking for a way inside, before noticing the wall shimmering with a faint green pulse of energy. She frowned.

"Looks like some kind of shield," she assessed. "I don't think the Speeder will be able to get through."

"Figures," Tucker mumbled. "Ghost-proof walls in a ghost prison. Who'd have thought?"

They ducked as another patrol floated by, Tucker almost dropping his PDA in sheer panic. Once it was safe, they straightened up again. Sam looked up at the wall, then at the patrol that had just missed them.

"Okay. New plan," she said. "We wait for a patrol to pass, then follow them inside. They have to open the doors for themselves, right?"

Tucker stared at her, disbelief clearly etched on his face like she was insane. "You mean follow the heavily armed ghost guards into a ghost jail with a huge ship we barely know how to fly?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Tucker pursed his lips and stayed quiet. The two waited until a group of guards moved toward one of the side gates. Edging the Speeder closer, Sam carefully matched its drift to the group's as the doors opened with a deep creaking. The two of them held their breath, inching the vehicle forward--

-- until suddenly, another patrol swooped from above, crossing directly in front of them. Sam yanked the controls hard, nearly clipping a floating rock; the Speeder whined in protest of the sudden movement.

"We're dead. Totally dead," Tucker whispered in frantic panic. "They're gonna spot us, and then we're gonna be in there too--"

But the patrol simply floated by, oblivious. Sam exhaled shakily, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Fine," she growled, shoving the controls back into neutral. "That didn't work."

"Shocker," Tucker deadpanned. "We're way out of our league here."

"Then what, leave him?!" Sam shot back, angry. "Not happening. There's got to be a way in!"

Tucker shook his head, slumping back. "Maybe. But can we find it before they find us?"

The two fell silent again, staring at the insurmountable wall before them. The guards continued their tireless patrol, completely unaware of the Speeder and yet doing an uncanny job of guarding against its approach.

The prison cafeteria was a cavernous hall lit in a ghostly green and ringed by armed guards. Ghosts of all shapes and sizes lounged, socialized, argued among themselves with little to no interference. The Lunch Lady loudly clanged some pots in the kitchen, Technus fidgeted with some small device he'd managed to sneak in, and the Box Ghost seemed to mostly be flying around being a nuisance. Skulker paced near the center like a caged lion, restless and itching to maul something.

Danny was shoved roughly into the cafeteria without preamble. As the door slammed behind him, he rubbed his wrists, heart pounding. The other ghosts turned to eye him; he felt small and young among them. "Great. Everyone who hates me in one room. Just like high school."

Vlad spoke from beside him, tone smooth as silk. "Comfortable, Daniel?" he asked. "Nothing like a little incarceration to teach a boy what his limits are."

"I really wish I could punch you through a wall right now," Danny whispered, trying to steady himself.

"Violence is crude, my boy," Vlad chuckled. "Observation, suggestion, redirection? Now those are tools. Learn to use them, and you may yet walk out of here without bruises."

In the meantime, Skulker had stopped pacing and tilted his head at Danny, sensing the oddness in the boy's demeanor. He approached, voice low and mocking. "Well, isn't this a bad hunt. The kitten thinks he's big enough to join the wolves." The ghost leaned down, towering over Danny. "Last I saw that, it didn't end well for the kitten."

A few ghosts tittered, some floating forth as if to watch events unfold. Danny's expression tightened, ready to fight, but then Vlad kept talking. "Stand tall," he said, voice firm. "Breathe down your spine. Let them see you as someone who belongs where you are, not someone trapped by it."

Awkwardly at first, Danny straightened, then squared his shoulders like someone trying on a jacket that didn't quite fit yet. When he spoke, his voice wavered at first, but then became more steady than he felt. "You, uh… don't have to talk like you own the place, Skulker."

Skulker barked out a laugh. "And who are you to tell me how to hunt, hmm?" He leaned in closer, nose to nose with Danny. "You seem mighty confident for someone outnumbered. Why? You a spy for the warden?"

Before Danny could answer, Vlad's voice flitted into his ear with a soft, guiding lilt. "Feed him doubt. Don't confirm or deny anything. Suggest you're rumored. Let him imagine you've been planted here."

"Oh, you… uh… heard about that?" Danny threw out clumsily. "Walker's been shifting patrols. Block B's ward flickers at… uh… short intervals. Probably every twenty minutes or so. That's… what the whispering's been saying."

Some of the ghosts blinked, and the crowd started whispering. Skulker's expression changed from suspicion to a flash of interest. "Where'd you hear that?" he grunted. "From a guard? From a rat? You sound like you've been fed gossip."

"Now. Act like you regret telling them." Vlad's voice had picked up in energy, pleased, even satisfied. "As if you said too much by accident. People who are careless seem less planted and more genuine."

"Uh-- don't--" Danny started quickly, starting to get embarrassed, and it leaked into his tone, "don't… look at me like that. It's probably nothing. You shouldn't trust whispering, it's… messy. I just… heard it."

The ghosts leaned in now. "Patrols shift?" The Lunch Lady asked. "That's good to know."

Technus tilted forward, excited. "An exploitable timing window! Very interesting!"

Skulker narrowed his eyes at Danny, who couldn't help but shrink back a little. "So. You have been listening where you shouldn't."

Danny felt the dozens of eyes upon him, the weight of his smallness pressing in. He opened his mouth without saying anything, fumbling for words--

"Yes! The cracks finally appear in this box of iron! They cannot contain us forever! I am the Box Ghost!"

The sudden interruption from the Box Ghost overhead took enough eyes off Danny that he was able to breathe and relax just an inch. Most of the ghosts turned to jeer at their resident nuisance, some laughing, some irritated at the interruption. Even Skulker turned to look toward the disturbance with boredom. Vlad chuckled in his ear before continuing, soft and persuasive.

"Distraction in chaos, Daniel, always seize it. Now, humility. Flatter him, disarm them a little." Vlad's voice was coaching, but with an edge that almost said it was a command. "Say you only know a fragment; that convinces them you aren't outright lying. Then sow a seed, a question that implies you're invested. 'How would you exploit that?' Ask, don't tell."

Danny took a breath and felt a little more steady when he spoke again, even when eyes turned back on him. "I don't know anything about it besides what I heard. If it really flickers like that, how would you get past it, Skulker?" He asked. "I mean, you're… the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter, right?" This was absurd, lying and leading like this. "What would you do?" There was no way this would work.

But Skulker's expression shifted, calculating, considering. "You're either stupid or dangerous. The dangerous ones ask good questions."

"Very good," Vlad said warmly. "Let him preen. He'll give you information out of pride."

Skulker leaned close again, voice lowered. "If that ward really does go thin, you don't run straight through," he continued almost conspiratorily. "You go around the east flank. There's a blind spot by the maintenance tower. Only a fool would hop the west line. But," he smirked, "that's assuming the ward does thin. If it's just a rumor…"

Nodding and trying to hide his relief that it had worked, Danny replied almost too quickly. "Right. East flank. Maintenance tower. Got it."

Skulker grinned like a cat who'd found a new mouse to play with. "Alright, whelp. For now, you're useful." Then his eyes narrowed. "But useful things can be prey, too. Don't test me."

The ghosts withdrew, muttering and strategizing amongst themselves, exactly what Vlad seemed to have wanted. Conversation swelled into white noise; the tension eased just enough that the room no longer felt like it was on the verge of exploding.

"Excellent," Vlad praised. "Keep each move small. Confidence is a domino chain in here; a tremor will topple them all. Watch them fracture and use that."

"This is messed up," Danny replied under his breath.

"Survival is often messy," Vlad returned simply. "And you will survive, Daniel. You may even grow to enjoy this."

Skulker turned to face Danny again, catching the tone in the boy's voice: a trace of something unsteady underneath the bravado. Suspicion and something like entertainment flickered across his face. "You've changed. Not by luck." He circled around Danny. "Who taught you to posture like this?"

"Don't answer." Vlad was annoyingly cheerful as he said this, tinted in pride. "They'll wonder; let it distract them. Let them wonder and argue. While they squabble, you have room to plan."

Danny's lack of answer made Skulker seem to either lose interest or turn to another source; either way, he looked at Desiree, Technus, the Lunch Lady. A small argument broke out, about whether to test Danny, whether to trust the "inside knowledge" he'd provided. The watching ghosts divided into murmuring cliques.

He hated himself a little for feeling relieved that the manipulation and coaching had worked. "I don't like this," Danny said when he was finally "alone".

"And yet: you did it." Vlad's tone had softened again, coaxing. "That is progress. You're learning how to react in a crisis."

Danny bit his lip slightly; for a heartbeat there was something on his face somewhere between regret and fear. Then he straightened again and took a deep breath, accepting the small, ugly victory. The other prisoners were arguing, the seeds of doubt sown, and less attention was on Danny.

"Yeah. Okay."

The other ghosts continued debating. Skulker's gaze lingered on Danny a moment, sharp and assessing, watching him with predatory curiosity and caution. Danny met his eyes, not with confidence, but with the guarded resignation of someone clinging to survival. And underneath it all, he hated how a part of him already knew what Vlad would say next: Well done.

The cafeteria continued buzzing with low, simmering hostility and conspiracy; ghosts glaring across tables at the guards, occasional scuffles between inmates. Danny sat at a table in one corner of the room, alone, tense. Vlad leaned against the wall beside him-- arms folded, smug and self-satisfied.

"Well, Daniel, you wanted a way out, didn't you?" the man goaded, sweeping his eyes across the room at the discord. "Here's your chance. Power doesn't come from throwing punches, it comes from knowing how to leverage a crowd and turn a room."

"I don't want power, I just want to get out of here alive," Danny shot back, irritated.

"And you will." Vlad's voice was firmer, reproachful at the outburst. "But surviving here requires allies. Make them want what you want. Push just hard enough, and they'll push even harder for you."

Danny eyed the table where all of his enemies sat-- the Lunch Lady, Technus, Skulker, Desiree, even the Box Ghost. Bonding over their shared hatred of him, no doubt. They were grumbling at each other, all of them looking like they'd rather tear each other apart than cooperate. The tension was like dry tinder just waiting for a spark.

"This is insane," he muttered.

"It isn't insane if it works, Daniel," Vlad gave a sly smirk. "This prison isn't built to last. All you need to do is crack the foundation and shake the right beams." His smirk widened. "Now, just as I told you."

The boy exhaled shakily, steeled himself, and then stood. Every eye in the cafeteria flicked to him-- some sneering, others confused. Danny raised his voice so that the inmates would hear him, hesitation still audible but edged with something firmer. "Look. I'm not the only one stuck in here for breaking rules nobody could follow even if they tried," he pointed out. "Walker's keeping us locked up because it makes him feel important. He doesn't care about order, he cares about control."

A ripple passed through the room as ghosts murmured and exchanged looks. Some of them just jeered at him, one of them throwing a tray of unidentifiable slop at Danny, which he ducked to evade. Vlad leaned in, a devil whispering in Danny's ear. "Very good. Now give them a direction. Don't just complain, show them the way out."

Danny hesitated, then clenched his fists and forced the words out. "If we work together, just this once, we don't have to stay in here. We outnumber the guards like five to one, they can't stop all of us."

The cafeteria went quiet. Skulker stood in challenge. "You expect me to follow you, whelp? Normally you'd barely last five minutes against me."

Vlad stepped in before Danny could falter, voice like a dagger. "Remind him, Daniel. His hunt only goes on if he isn't the prey."

Danny swallowed, then spoke louder. "Yeah, usually. But look around. Walker made all of us his prey, even you. It doesn't matter who's stronger than who if we're all on his leash."

That earned another ripple-- this time sharper, less doubtful, less hesitant. Skulker sat back down slowly, an odd expression like respect on his mechanical face. Even the other ghosts at his table looked at each other before returning their eyes to Danny with new interest.

"Bravo, my boy," Vlad praised, placing a hand on Danny's shoulder with a light squeeze. "You've just lit the match."

The stolen Speeder was tucked low against one of the floating bounders that was close to the compound's outer wall, hidden out of sight and in a shadow that seemed not to be investigated often. Tucker kept the camera feed on his PDA and Sam continued holding the controls just in case they needed to make an emergency maneuver. Through it all, the shuttle was humming and groaning, more than it had before.

"Patrol just passed east side," Tucker reported, eyes glued to the screen. "If we drift closer under that overhang, we should be able to get over the wall and inside."

Sam didn't reply, edging the Speeder forward. The vehicle shuddered, metal creaking, and the two of them winced, pausing to look around nervously before continuing. Hugging the shadows was their best bet. A searchlight swept just over their hiding spot, but not low enough to spot them.

Tucker looked out the window at the near miss. "I swear, this thing is going to give us away. They had to have heard that."

"What else can we do, ditch it?" Sam asked in a furious whisper. "I'll take noisy over exposed."

She started moving it forward again, and almost in response to her comment, the engine gave a sharp, high squeal. It was a horrible metallic screech that echoed in the area, making both kids freeze as the lights flashed instantly in their general direction, and a nearby guard patrol turned to find the source of the noise.

"We're dead. That's it," Tucker panicked. "Toast. Done. Cooked."

Not bothering to entertain Tucker's frantic jabbering, Sam slammed the controls down, jerking the Speeder into a dive. The vehicle wobbled but otherwise responded well, evading several green blasts of energy even as the lights stayed locked onto them. Guards peeled away from their posts, barking orders at each other, engaging with the newly visible threat.

Tucker ducked down below the dashboard. "Great plan, Sam!" he near-shouted. "Totally a good idea to sneak in here with a ship that sounds like a dying blender!"

Sam yanked the controls to the right, causing the Speeder to bank hard to avoid hitting a boulder. "Would you rather we sit still and get caught, or leave Danny in there?!" She demanded as the shuttle leveled out again.

"We're dead. We're so dead!"

Another blast barely missed them and Sam took an opening to try to rise above the wall, as if they were going to fly right in. But she just looked out the window, saw dozens of guards rise to meet the disturbance, and grinned. "Not if we keep them distracted long enough for Danny to get out."

Danny stood by a table near the middle of the cafeteria, glancing around nervously as the prisoners discussed and planned and strategized based on nothing but his own word. Vlad's, rather, he supposed. He still felt small, but Vlad was helping him manage the situation enough that Danny's demeanor held a confidence he didn't quite feel. Guards drifted in the perimeter, watchful, but it seemed that low, general murmuring wasn't much of a threat in their eyes.

"Keep the fire lit, Daniel." Vlad's voice was a silken thread only Danny could hear-- calm, intimate, instructive. "Let them taste the possibility of freedom. People will always gather around hope."

The boy swallowed and took a breath, before lifting his chin and trying to follow Vlad's direction. He spoke louder than before, forcing resolve into his voice. "Walker counts on us being divided." Danny's voice wavered at first, but then steadied. "He counts on us being afraid. But fear only works if we let it."

Behind him, Vlad gave a pleased smirk, like this was even better than he'd hoped. Danny didn't see it, too focused on the task at hand.

Skulker leaned forward as more ghosts focused their attention on Danny. "You got ideas, ghost child?" he growled. "Talk fast. I don't like chatter."

Vlad opened his mouth to feed Danny what to say, but the teen actually beat him to it. "We gather at the east stacks after the bell. A couple of us can distract the patrol, the rest move on at the maint tower." His voice was slowly getting firmer, more confident, steadier with each word. "We don't need to run, we walk through like we belong there."

Conversation bloomed into excited whispers; heads turned, ghosts talking amongst themselves, already planning who would do what. Danny relaxed, smiling a little as some of the tension in his chest eased. The energy in the room was rising, no longer oppressive and hostile, but anticipatory and hopeful. He even almost believed himself.

Vlad cocked his head, genuinely taken off guard for a moment. He'd expected Danny to falter, to need continued guidance through this situation, but this was a side of the boy he hadn't known about. The surprise melted into something warmer, and he stepped close to the boy, speaking in a voice loud enough for Danny to hear but soft enough that it wouldn't disturb the atmosphere of camaraderie they found themselves in.

"Very good, my boy," Vlad whispered, with a touch of pride that felt earned, but also a darker note under it that was hard to identify. "Very well done. Do you see? This natural ability to command and convince?" Once again he placed a hand on Danny's shoulder, reassuring and paternal. "This is not a skill that is learned, Daniel, it is born. I simply helped clear your way to finding it. And with time and training…"

He didn't finish. Danny swallowed, the praise settling in like a warmth he didn't know he needed. He nodded faintly, still smiling a little, feeling more confident in himself than he'd felt all day.

That was when a guard at the far side of the wall noticed the growing rumbles of conspiracy in the crowd, narrowing his eyes and giving a quick hand signal to another guard. The two moved forward together, slow and practiced, preparing their batons. They drifted toward the largest cluster of prisoners and the room's energy immediately shifted; the low chatter tightened into concern.

"If Walker hears of this, we're roasting tonight," the Lunch Lady said in a hushed whisper.

"We have a window," Skulker argued, voice low as well. "Even if Walker hears of it, he can't do anything if we're not here."

"We wish for our freedom, and so shall it be." Desiree sounded resolved, at least.

The guards closed in on them, and the group noticed the approach and immediately fell silent, glancing at one another. In the tension, Danny's confidence faltered; Vlad swooped in to save him once more.

"Now, Daniel, control the narrative," he supplied, voice eager as if waiting for something specific. "Be the one the guards have to answer to; don't look like you're leading anything, look like you're the one who knows what you're doing."

Danny inhaled and squared his shoulders, holding his ground as the guards moved into the group, the other ghosts parting like water in contrast. A third guard had joined the two at some point, and they floated in a loose triangle around the group.

"Alright. Who's leading this little conspiracy?" One of the guards barked.

Skulker puffed up, as if ready to start fighting, but Danny stepped forward slightly, intentionally standing between the guard and the larger ghosts. "Nobody's leading anything," he stated. "We're talking." Then he gave a sort of tired half-grin. "Now, you can either listen to the problem or force us to create one."

The air went taut like a rope stretched to its limits. Danny's words hung in the silence, brazen and reckless, but something in his delivery gave the guards pause. Every ghost in the cafeteria was looking at him now-- the group he'd discussed with, the guards, uninvolved ghosts, even the other guards who hadn't approached, as if they sensed a threat. His grin wasn't cocky or confident; it was just weary, like someone who knew full well what was about to happen. Murmurs swelled around him, not loud, but present enough to give a sense of solidarity.

Vlad's eyes gleamed like he'd just been given his heart's desire. He didn't interfere; he didn't need to. Danny had done more than control the narrative, he'd seized it. The guards, for all their posturing, suddenly looked less sure of themselves.

"Careful, kid," another guard warned, but there was a wariness in it. "That's a bold mouth. You talk big, so act big."

As Vlad had expected, Danny didn't need assistance this time. The boy's smile turned brittle and he tilted his chin up, pulse racing but posture steady. "Then be careful where you swing that thing," he returned, nodding at the guard's baton. "I'm not the one you should be worried about." He didn't indicate the restless ghosts around him. He didn't need to. They did a pretty good job of indicating themselves as the noise swelled again.

It landed. The guards glanced at each other, not used to being spoken to this way by prisoners. One muttered something into his radio.

Vlad allowed the faintest smile at the pause, that precious hesitation. "Beautifully done, my boy," he praised, the pride back in his voice. "This is how you seize control: by making them think you already have it." Danny's face tightened, but he didn't back down, and didn't dare answer with everyone watching him so closely. The warmth of it settled around him again, and he hated how much steadier it made him feel.

One of the guards decided to break the silence. "Enough talk. Break it up." The command was steel, but the voice was nervous. All of the guards, even the uninvolved, stepped forward with professional discipline. And yet the nearest prisoners rose like a single organism to meet them head-on. For a breath, Danny's posture slackened as he felt, fully, how dangerous this really was.

Sensing weakness, Vlad swooped in again, voice soft and excited. "Now, Daniel, watch that guard's shoulders. Aim low. Distract their center. Let them bring their weight into a position you can push."

It wasn't about talking anymore, it was about fighting. Danny tensed up again, muttering to himself. "Aim low. Distract." He slowly slid a foot back, bracing, every instinct telling him to move, swing first, do something. The guards were clearly bracing as well, raising their batons and their tower shields. The crowd's restless growl thickened into something sharp, like the air before a storm. Everything was about to snap.

Vlad's voice coiled tighter in Danny's ear, hushed but electric. "Yes, just like that, Daniel. All it takes is one strike and the room is yours."

Danny clenched his fists. He could feel it-- the weight of every eye, the rising pulse of chaos just waiting for a signal. With a jolt he realized the signal was him, anything he did in this moment. The ghosts were following his lead. With that realization his eyes hardened and he prepared to surge forward--

-- when the piercing wail of the prison's alarm sirens shattered through the tense air, deafeningly sharp.

The guards flinched, radios coming alive with frantic chatter about an intruder. Brilliant red lights strobed to life, flooding the walls with crimson as inmates rose to their feet to either see the source of the disturbance or take advantage of the guards' distraction.

Vlad looked over his shoulder out a window, expression caught between irritation and curiosity. "How… opportune," he muttered.

Danny didn't have to wonder what triggered the alarm; he knew instinctively who would have dared to come here at this exact time. His gut twisted. Tucker. Sam.

Guards advanced as the cafeteria exploded into motion. The first blows were thrown; some ghosts lunged at the guards instantly, eager to use the alarm as cover, while others bolted for the walls, trying to find weak points to escape through. One guard swung his baton at a prisoner, who ducked and immediately countered. The guards scrambled to contain the chaos, formation breaking under the pressure of all the moving parts. Ghosts collided, chairs clanged, the murmuring roar had escalated into screams and shouts and the overlay of barked commands.

Danny staggered back, swallowed by the sudden rush of bodies, senses crystal-sharp with adrenaline. He should have been relieved, but the gut feeling that his best friends had followed him into this level of danger left his chest tight with dread. Hyper-aware, he turned his head toward the window, where that feeling was confirmed: the Specter Speeder zipped past his small field of vision.

Vlad grabbed his shoulder, more firmly than before, somehow steadying amid the chaos. "Focus, Daniel!" He said, tone sharp but not angry. "You've been handed an opening. Don't waste it. You can help them when you've gotten yourself out." He removed his hand from Danny, floating alongside as the boy maneuvered around ecto-beams and flying combatants. "Move the center. Don't waste your energy attacking their armor, use numbers and confusion." Where it had once been silk, Vlad's voice was now the razor-sharp edge of a steel blade, coaching Danny through battle.

Heart racing, Danny saw an opening: two guards shoulder to shoulder, shields raised against a ghost bullrushing them. He darted forward-- not to tackle, but to yank one of them off-balance so that the other guard stood little chance against the oncoming charge. Nearby, Skulker clocked another guard in the head, knocking their helmet away and grabbing the exposed face to throw the guard into a wall.

The prisoners were a swarm. The guards were trained, but outnumbered and outmatched, and every attempt to restabilize was interrupted by another ghost drawing attention. The wards on the walls flickered as Technus flew into some sort of console, which sparked furiously before exploding, dropping the wards entirely with a faltering sputter.

With the wards on the cafeteria, at least, gone, the resistance grew bolder and more coordinated. The guards attempted to retreat into a defensive wedge against the press of prisoners; one guard fired a blast from his baton, but it sailed wide, hitting a table and sending lunch trays flying everywhere. With attention literally everywhere but on him, Danny jumped onto another table-- his voice rang out, not joyful, but determined, focused, and a little terrified.

"The wall, the wall!" He shouted; a few heads turned to look at him. "Ward is down! East flank, move east, keep them split!"

Surprisingly, the prisoners heeded the command; even Skulker moved with the current of momentum. The guards' line fractured and ghosts surged against the wall that bordered the outside, cracks forming, chipping away slowly. The prisoners began cheering as parts of the fortress wall began crumbling, bending, squealing in protest at the force--

-- and then a sharp whistle shrieked from behind them, almost instantly halting the chaos.

The swarm of prisoners whipped around to look for the source, and froze when they saw it. Walker had entered the room, huge and imposing, glaring at the rioters with the condemnation worthy of a judge. The guards finally had a moment to regroup as Walker stepped forward, voice booming like a thunderclap.

"Stop this at once," he commanded, despite the entire room having stilled into tense silence. "You lead insurrection in my domain. That's against the rules. Who is responsible?" But instead of waiting for an answer that likely wasn't coming, his eyes fell on Danny-- the child in the center, standing on a table to rise tall over the other ghosts, head raised like a small animal challenging a lion. "You. Step forward."

The guards didn't even give Danny the chance to approach on his own; two of them roughly grabbed him by each arm and dragged him forward out of the crowd. The crowd stirred just a little as Danny was thrown onto the ground in front of Walker, landing on hands and knees. The boy's breath hitched as he tried to think fast.

"Rule 12: Incitement of collective action," Walker started, bringing out his book again. "Rule 33: Threat to ward integrity. Rule 359: Conspiracy. Rule 701: Endangerment of staff. Rule 702: Endangerment of inmates." The ghost leaned down, towering over Danny. "Speak, now."

Danny's heart hammered in the face of Walker's demand. He knew he'd done something dangerous. He also knew, because of Vlad, that Walker's head was a network of weak points: ego, authority, rules. "This is where you must decide," Vlad said softly. "Stand on your righteous dignity, or break it so the others will see you as a martyr. Take the blame, then be the tinder that stokes the blaze."

At Danny's silence, Walker narrowed his eyes and grabbed Danny roughly by the jumpsuit collar, pulling him face-to-face. The murmuring grew louder; the guards tensed. "Answer me, punk. Did you conspire? Did you lead them?"

The boy opened his mouth, then blurted the words out of his own throat with a jagged but controlled breath. "Yes. I led them. I said what I said. You want us docile, I don't. We moved on my signal."

Gasps as the prisoners inhaled sharply at Danny's candor, then a second of stunned silence. Walker's expression flickered-- first outrage, then something like calculation. He straightened, then let go of Danny, who dropped hard to the floor. "Insolent. Reckless. You will be punished."

"Now, disrupt expectation," Vlad coached, soft and excited. "Don't fight back. Play the victim. Make it seem personal."

Walker nodded to the guards, who surrounded the boy with the warden. Two grabbed Danny to pull him up to his knees; a third and fourth readied batons, but remained on standby. Walker approached, hands clasped behind his back… then struck a hard blow with a fist that sent Danny skidding across the floor. The crowd bellowed in outrage even as the half-ghost got back to his feet, fists clenched, fury and panic fighting in his chest.

A guard's baton cracked across his shoulders from behind; Danny staggered but did not fall, feeling the echo of vibration in his bones. Two more blows rocked him, and through it Danny stood, gritting his teeth but taking it. The guards were practiced, aiming to subdue rather than kill. The prisoners moved forward in a mass, resuming the fight as the guards tried to form their defensive wedge again, but the inmates were surging again with renewed ferocity. One guard was disarmed; another sent flying into a wall. The cafeteria was suddenly a storm of sound and motion.

Walker moved forward with surgical precision, a rock in the tidal wave of conflict. Two more guards grabbed Danny and, this time, did not let him go; instead, they held him in place while Walker sent a fist directly at the side of the boy's head. The crowd paused again as Danny half-collapsed in the guards' grip, coughing and seeing sparks.

"Animals! Animals masquerading as soldiers!" Walker shouted, voice carrying across the room. "This is chaos!"

"You don't get it," Danny retorted through another cough. "You don't know anything about chaos, you don't have to. You just lock us all up and call it order!"

The warden's eyes burned with rage. He grabbed Danny by the front of his jumpsuit again and yanked him away from the guards, before slamming him into the wall. The guards tightened formation, the entire room held its breath, but Walker had his focus only on this upstart newcomer who thought he could hope to change the system. Danny tried to blink away the flecks of light flooding his vision.

"You speak of order while weaponizing chaos," Walker growled. "For that, I will make you an example."

Walker used his free hand to snatch a baton from the nearest guard. Danny's head swam with panic; the taste of something metallic fell on his tongue. As the ghost drew back to strike, the world narrowed to the instinct of fear-- and the quiet, incisive voice of Vlad, as if reminding Danny he was there.

"Daniel. Humans pass through things here," he said as if nothing critical was happening. "You can, too. Don't fight his fist, pass through the grasp like smoke."

A beat.

Danny had frozen at this new information, a dozen thoughts flicking through his head, chased by adrenaline and fury-- fury that Vlad had withheld this vital piece of information, and Danny had to get beaten up to learn it. But the baton was descending, and there was no time for his indignant anger-- just one incensed comment that he no longer cared if it made him look crazy.

"You could have told me that before!"

As the baton flew toward Danny's head, he did the one thing he had never planned on willingly doing within the hostile dimension of the Ghost Zone: become a defenseless human once more. True to Vlad's word, Walker's grip passed right through Danny and onto the wall behind him; the baton phased through Danny's head and clattered loudly against metal. He staggered a step to the side, completely human, to the stunned silence of the onlookers.

"Impossible!" Walker finally snarled, as the guards lunged and cursed, trying to recapture Danny but phasing right through him. The prisoners erupted into a howl of triumph and confusion, pressing against the wall to the outside with renewed vigor, finally causing the protesting metal to crumple and expose an opening.

Danny darted through the wall; he hadn't needed the hole himself, apparently, but the other inmates were already pouring out through it, escaping into the Ghost Zone, ignoring the Specter Speeder which was still zipping around frantically. Sam and Tucker apparently didn't see Danny in the chaos yet, but whoever was driving definitely saw the flood of ghosts and sharply pulled out of the way. For a moment, Danny just stood, hands on his knees, aching all over, disoriented and dizzy. Then he straightened, still breathing heavily in adrenaline and residual panic.

"Thanks for the save," Danny said breathlessly, but with a thread of anger as he looked at Vlad, standing beside him in utter calm.

"I didn't save you, Daniel. I taught you how to use your environment. Quite different."

Danny rolled his eyes, then craned his neck to look up at the Speeder. Tucker was looking back down at him, mouth moving excitedly but too far away to hear. The shuttle swooped low, side hatch popping open; Sam leaned out, without preamble, stretching her hand toward him. "Danny, come on!"

He staggered forward, managing a running jump to grab the offered hand as the Speeder steadied. The two hauled him inside, where he collapsed on the floor, panting and drained now that the fight was over. His breath was ragged, his skin was bruised, his shoulders still ached, but he was alive.

"Dude, what happened down there?" Tucker asked incredulously as Sam shot the Speeder upward and away from the prison complex. "Those ghosts were like… running right through you."

Danny didn't bother finding a seat, instead sitting on the floor of the shuttle, leaning against the wall. "Yeah," he breathed, slowly recovering. "Humans… we're intangible here. I should've known. I had to get beaten to figure that out." He didn't mention Vlad. Not here, not now.

Sam frowned, but didn't look at him, focusing on flying. She turned a corner around a rock, seeming to know the way home. "We've been out here trying to avoid flying into boulders and getting blasted, when we could have just flown through the wall? Would have been nice to know that earlier."

"I know, right?" Danny asked, tone sharp, sliding his gaze over to glare at Vlad, who was perfectly composed and still completely invisible to everyone else.

Vlad smiled pleasantly at him. "And deprive you of the lesson of discovery? Where's the narrative fun in that, Daniel?" Danny frowned, lips pressing into a thin line. He despised that answer. But Vlad kept speaking, as if Danny wasn't glaring daggers at him. "Regardless, very well done, my boy. You were clumsy, but effective. Very effective." His voice was almost proud.

Danny frowned deeper, but ultimately said nothing. He let his head tip back against the Speeder’s wall, eyes shut, breath uneven. Sam and Tucker didn’t press him; they let him sit in silence. It all still rang in his ears. The wailing siren, the roar of the crowd, the thud of bodies, and Vlad's needling chuckle. His head pounded with the echo of the blows he'd suffered in there. For a moment, Danny took a deep breath and pretended he was safe, even if the knot in his stomach refused to untangle.

Walker recovered faster than anyone anticipated. Many inmates had already escaped, but he was holding the line with his guards against the slower or weaker ghosts that hadn't poured out in the initial flood. Fresh lines of guards stood at weak points, shepherding stragglers back into the prison, into rooms which hadn't had their walls torn down.

"Secure the perimeter," Walker barked, overseeing the activity. "Close the east flank, seize any ringleaders still here." Despite the swell of confidence Danny had brought the inmates, those who were left faltered under the weight of Walker's authority and were pressed back into order, back into confinement.

Walker turned his head to look at his second-in-command.“Bullet. Take a troop and investigate that boy. Connections, powers, background, everything. No child stages an insurrection alone.” The other ghost saluted and shot off as the remaining guards fanned out, dealing with the cleanup of the incident. Walker narrowed his eyes in thought.

But the outcome was inked; the prison was damaged, many of the prisoners had escaped, and the ones that hadn't been so lucky were restless and bore watching until things calmed down. For now, the noise of battle died to the uneasy quiet of status quo, just barely hiding a tableau of smoke and the brittle aftermath of an uprising.

One spark from one defiant, insolent punk had nearly undone his carefully-managed order. His prison still stood. But Walker would not rest until that boy was back in chains.

Back in the Fentonworks lab, the portal hummed with energy, its swirling vortex shifting as there was a faint shimmer at the threshold. Danny burst out, in ghost form and outside the Speeder, having found it easier to navigate the Ghost Zone himself with Tucker and Sam following him. He landed, half-stumbling and breathing hard, as the Specter Speeder followed him out with his friends in tow. Once the shuttle had safely cleared the portal, Danny slammed his fist into the off switch, then braced against the wall, gasping.

"Okay… okay," he muttered, wiping sweat off his brow. "Still in one piece. Still breathing. Wait, do I even breathe like this? Ugh. Focus, Danny, focus."

The other two had parked the Speeder and were emerging from it, both shaken but still riding adrenaline from the prison break.

"Dude," Tucker breathed. "That was, like, way too close."

"That's understating it," Sam replied, steadying herself against a workbench. Then she noticed her friend's struggling breathing. "Danny, you're barely standing."

Danny gave a weak grin, brushing it off. "I've been worse." A pause, then a sigh. "… Okay, not much worse."

A presence flitted at the edge of the room, seen only by Danny-- Vlad, lingering with that perpetual, smug patience. His eyes tracked Danny with interest, as if he was seeing the boy in a new context, and had found something he'd liked. Danny straightened a little, but couldn't hide the flinch; Sam noticed and opened her mouth to say something, but a voice thundered overhead, startling all three of the kids.

"Maddie!" came Jack's familiar boom from upstairs. "Careful with the door, I think it's still sticky from last week!"

Danny startled violently, yelping. With a flash, he turned human again-- tripping over his own feet and flailing his arms as he toppled backward. Sam and Tucker both lunged forward to try to catch him, but he landed squarely on his butt just as his parents descended into the lab. Jack was cheerful and animated, Maddie composed and smiling, the air between them warmer than the last time Danny had seen either.

"Danny-boy!" Jack said too loudly, jovial. "You're up late! Just like your old man, eh? Couldn't resist poking around the lab?"

Maddie, however, gave a sharp look to Sam and Tucker, setting an unidentified gadget down on a workbench. "Now Danny, you know the rules. The lab isn't for visitors."

"Yeah, yeah, out you go, kids!" Jack waved, ushering the two out. "Safety first! Don't want anyone tripping into a live portal, haha!"

Sam bristled but kept her mouth closed, tugging Tucker by the sleeve. Tucker cast Danny a sympathetic look and Sam's eyes lingered, clearly wanting to say more. Danny offered a tiny, weary smile and nodded, and the two reluctantly left up the stairs. The parents didn't notice the silent exchange.

"Y-yeah, you know me," Danny answered without any real heart in his voice, getting to his feet. "Just, uh, checking stuff out. Science. Totally… normal science."

Vlad approached to stand just behind him, leaning in and smirking. "Smooth as gravel, little badger," was the silken whisper. "You've survived Walker's prison and a mob of ghosts, but one word from your father sends you into a panic."

"Not now," Danny muttered back, more irritated than anything.

Oblivious, Jack grabbed the device Maddie had set down and brandished it excitedly. "You won't believe what we whipped up on the road, son! Brand new design-- portable ghost net launcher! Fenton-quality containment, compact as a backpack!"

The device misfired, sending a glowing green net sailing over Danny's head and into a table of beakers. Maddie lightly rolled her eyes, then put her hand on the launcher to get Jack to lower it. "What your father means is that the field test went well."

"And, uh," Jack started, voice softer as he looked at Maddie, "we had time to talk. Work some things out."

Maddie gave a small nod and a smile. "Yes, that too."

Danny sank onto the bottom step of the stairway, drained and taking a moment to rest. He ran his hand through his hair, muttering half to himself, half to Vlad. "Guess that's that, then. I led a prison riot in the Ghost Zone, Walker's probably out for my head, you're here for who-knows-what reason…" He sighed. "And Mom and Dad make up like nothing ever happened. Just another Tuesday."

Vlad followed him to the stairs but stayed standing, arms folded as he looked at the two adults talk with each other about the new net-launcher, not paying attention to Danny's presence. "All that effort, all that spectacle, and he gets away clean." Vlad's voice was low and bitter as he cast a look of disgust at Jack specifically. "No bruises, no consequences. Typical."

Danny was too tired to argue even if he wanted to. After a few seconds, he shook his head and stood, pushing himself up a few of the steps. Vlad looked at him, disgust cooling into a thin smirk. The boy's voice was flat as he agreed. "Yeah. Typical."

Danny finished walking up the stairs, doing his best to ignore Vlad's presence behind him. The parents were still loudly discussing the new invention, with Jack's repeated use of "Fenton" indicating that they were on the naming stage. As he rounded into the living room, Danny spotted Jazz, lounging on the couch and scanning a textbook. He glanced at Vlad, then approached.

"Hey, uh, Jazz?" He asked, trying to sound lighthearted. "Can you… do me a favor?"

His sister looked up at him, eyebrow arched and a measure of concern on her face. "Depends. You've been acting seriously weird all week, Danny. What's going on?

"Just… humor me, okay?" he pleaded. "Ask me something. Something from one of your classes, something I wouldn't know. History, science, whatever."

"You… want me to quiz you?" Jazz asked, skeptical. "Right now?"

Danny fidgeted with his hands. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "Just… please."

She studied him for a few seconds, taking in his tension, then sighed and rifled through the pages of her textbook to somewhere random. "Okay, uh… what is the primary function of ribosomes?"

Chuckling, Vlad leaned in to speak in Danny's ear. "They're the cell's assembly lines-- synthesizing proteins." His voice was almost condescendingly warm, fond. "Your teachers will unpack it for you next year, but if you're still trying to prove I'm real, why wait?"

Danny blinked, blurting out the answer before Vlad could keep going. "They make proteins for the cell."

Jazz narrowed her eyes-- confusion, not suspicion-- and looked down at her book as if to make sure. "Correct. Lucky guess?"

"… Yeah," Danny mumbled without conviction. "Lucky guess."

Sensing his tone, Jazz closed the textbook and set it down. "Danny, what's going on?"

He just shook his head, eyes flicking to Vlad again. The man chuckled.

"At last, you're starting to accept it. I already told you. I am hardly a figment of your imagination, my boy." His voice was silky, amused, almost mocking, as if he was surprised Danny had been so naive.

Without another word to Jazz, Danny took the stairs up to his room, rubbing his arms. Jazz stood, expression worried and confused, but she was out of earshot to hear what Danny muttered to himself next.

"It's real. He's real."

Danny quietly closed the door behind him as he entered his room. It was dimly lit by a green rocket-shaped lava lamp, and he didn't bother turning on the overhead light; he'd had enough bright light for one day. He cast a glance out his window at Amity Park, then at the alarm clock on his table; it was almost midnight. That prison break had taken all day. He sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed and kicking off his shoes.

He just sat there for a minute, looking past his aching feet to the floor. Danny sensed more than saw Vlad take a seat next to him, poised and calm. After a moment of silence Danny finally spoke. "Okay, yeah, you're really here. I don't know how, but you're here." He turned his head to look at the man. "Somehow."

Vlad smiled faintly, his voice warm with implied praise. "Perceptive, at last."

Danny frowned. "This isn't overshadowing, is it? You're not in me, I'd know."

"No, Daniel." Vlad's tone was considerably gentler than it had been all day. "This is something simpler, more elegant." He laid a hand on Danny's near shoulder; Danny didn't flinch away this time. "It's called haunting, my dear boy. A basic ghost ability, much like and related to overshadowing. I take it you've not developed it yet?"

Scratching his neck, Danny let a small huff of a laugh escape his nose. "Uh, well, no, not really. I've kind of been busy just trying not to phase through the ground half the time."

"Mm. Understandable, I suppose." There was a beat, and Vlad's tone shifted-- sly, but not admonishing. "Though hardly excusable."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks. Really encouraging."

Vlad ignored the jab, tone shifting again to something more instructive. "Haunting allows a ghost to attach their presence to a person or object. If a person is chosen, only the host can perceive the specter." He smiled. "As you learned today. It is a private and efficient way to communicate."

The teen squinted at his mentor. "So that's why nobody else has been able to see or hear you?" He asked. "You've just been… hitching a ride in my head?"

The man chuckled. "Not in your head, Daniel, alongside you. A shadow just behind your shoulder. A voice whispering when needed, guiding, comforting." He smiled fondly. "Always watching over you, even when you think you're alone."

"A funny way to say stalking, but sure," Danny deadpanned, too tired to deal with Vlad's pattering about. "I don't know how much I like this."

"Stalking? I'm wounded." Vlad put his free hand to his chest-- the other was still on Danny's shoulder-- and looked genuinely stricken… even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. "This is mentorship, not constant surveillance. I only mean to help you, you know." The hand on Danny's shoulder squeezed lightly. "I offer you presence, companionship. Assurance that you won't be alone."

The boy opened his mouth, but Vlad cut him off before any words came out. "I know today was frightening, Daniel," he said, comforting. "Thrown into a prison riot, beaten by the warden, nearly swallowed by the crowd. You could have been crushed by it all." Vlad leaned in. "But you weren't. You survived. More than that, you triumphed. Could you have done that without me there for you?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

Vlad's smile deepened, and he squeezed Danny's shoulder again. "Even silence is an answer, my boy."

Danny pressed his lips together. "But you could have just told me, you know," he pointed out. "You made me feel like I was crazy all day."

Vlad dropped the hand he'd raised to his chest. "Daniel, Daniel," he intoned, sounding reproachful. "I did tell you that you could simply ask me what was happening, but you were too stubborn to concede even that much." Vlad's tone was chiding, disappointed. "If you felt insane, it wasn't because of me. You're still learning to trust. Keeping your vulnerabilities hidden from humans-- now that's wise. But you and I are the same breed. We are rare. The humans wouldn't understand, but I'm the one who always will. Why would you not confide in me?"

He didn't have an answer for that, either.

The silence stretched, and the older man simply looked at him-- warm, fond, patient. Vlad kept going after a moment, apparently taking Danny's lack of response as a win. "Now, you should sleep, little badger." He stood, removing his hand from Danny's shoulder as he did so. "I daresay you've earned it, after the fine work you did today." The words came with a gentle smile, but there was an undercurrent in them that Danny couldn't identify and was too tired to try to. “And remember, Daniel. Even if the darkness closes in around you, you won’t face it alone. You’ve shown me today that you can rise above fear-- so long as you have someone to guide you.”

Somehow that wasn't very reassuring.

The other half-ghost vanished, at that. Danny pursed his lips again, not sure if Vlad had left-left or was still hanging around, listening. After a few seconds, he sighed, then got under his covers to settle down for the night. The boy took one last look around the room, as if searching for a sign that definitively told him that Vlad had stayed or left. He didn't find one. "Yeah," he muttered, pulling his blanket up. "Real comforting."

Chapter Text

The walk to Casper High in the morning wasn't usually a stressful time. The sun was already warm, rather than the lingering chill that usually came before school hours; it pressed down with that somewhat muggy, too-early taste of summer heat that for some reason always happened when it should have been the middle of spring. Summer weeds were already popping up in lawns and gardens; it was starting to rain more often, making it more humid as the month went on.

Danny walked down the sidewalk with Tucker and Sam on their way to school. Danny seemed oddly relaxed as he explained, in abridged terms, what had happened a few days ago in the Ghost Zone, in Walker's prison, and was finally telling them about Vlad-- who he was, how he had offered to train Danny, and how he had helped in that incident. There was a faint smile on his face as he recounted it, like he wasn't talking about a high-stakes conflict that had only just happened. Sam and Tucker exchanged uneasy looks; not just because of the implications of all of this, but also because Danny was strangely at ease about the entire situation.

"You're telling us you're just… okay with this?" Sam asked in skeptical concern. "A ghost suddenly showing up in your head uninvited?"

"No, no, he's not in my head," Danny clarified. "He explained that. It's more like… alongside me. It's called haunting. He's just… there. In case I need him."

"Oh, just there. Great. Totally normal." Tucker's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Not creepy at all."

Sam crossed her arms. "Danny, you still didn't exactly invite him in. That's still invasive." She shook her head. "Did you even get a say?"

"It's not like that," Danny said, rolling his eyes, though pointedly not answering the question. "He said it's guidance, not surveillance. Backup. He doesn't show up unless he has to." He shrugged. "Most of the time it's just… quiet. Like a safety net."

That earned him a side-eye from Tucker. "Safety net? Uh huh. You do realize that sounds like you've got a parental control setting installed in your brain, right?"

Danny made a face, before shrugging again. "Look, it's… complicated, okay?" He paused, as if trying to figure out what to say. "He's been right there when things got bad. It's… actually kind of reassuring."

"Yeah, reassuring," Sam said pointedly. "Because nothing says healthy relationship like a billionaire ghost stalker whispering in your ear."

He shifted uncomfortably, masked it as adjusting his backpack, and pressed on. "He's not stalking me. Look, I told you guys because I trust you, alright?" Danny frowned. "I didn't at first. But it's been a few days, and nothing bad has happened. It's… okay. It helps."

"Helps how?" Tucker asked, raising a brow.

"Like… perspective," Danny replied after a second of figuring out how to phrase it. "He knows things, stuff I haven't figured out yet." He even smiled at them. "Ghost powers, stuff about the Ghost Zone, things I wouldn't even think to ask about."

"You mean he knows how to manipulate you," Sam replied flatly.

Danny's answer came a little too quickly. "He's not manipulating me."

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look again. Noticing it, Danny sighed. His eyes flicked to the side and he opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but then Tucker interjected.

"Wait, then why doesn't he help us fight ghosts?" he asked, thoughtful. "If Vlad is so powerful, why not help us out when it counts?"

"Look, it's not like he can just pop out of my shoulder and start punching things," Danny deadpanned as if it were obvious. "He's not actually here-here."

"Yet you have no idea when he's actually watching, do you." Sam's tone was flat.

There was a beat. "… No, I don't," Danny confirmed quietly.

"So basically he's freeloading inside your personal space, and you can't tell when he's doing it."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Danny sighed. "Guys, come on. He's not-- look, it's not like he can babysit me twenty-four-seven, you know?"

The two of them stared at him for a long moment, even stopping in their tracks as the phrase Danny had chosen landed. Danny kept going for a few steps, then noticed they'd fallen behind, and looked over his shoulder at them.

"What?"

"Did you even hear yourself just then?" Sam asked, concern heavier in her voice. "Babysit you?"

"Dude," Tucker added, pushing up his glasses, "you're way too chill about this whole thing."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Bad phrasing." He tried to brush it off, but faltered a little, conflicted. Danny knew he should agree with them, but… "I don't know, guys, I guess…" He sighed. "After everything? It feels nice. Not being totally alone in this ghost thing."

There was another short pause, then the others started walking again, Danny falling in stride alongside them. Sam softened a little.

"You're not alone, Danny," she said quietly. "You've got us."

"… Yeah," Danny replied quietly, a little guiltily. "I know."

"And last I checked, we're not trying to set up shop in your skull rent-free," Tucker added, still unconvinced. "Or wherever Vlad hangs out if he's not in your head."

There was an awkward silence as Danny frowned at Tucker, but they were approaching the school and couldn't continue the conversation with all the students around.

A voice popped up behind Danny's right shoulder and he jerked to a stop, startled. "Don't trouble yourself, Daniel," came Vlad's voice, smooth and invisible. "They mean well, but they can't possibly understand. They're human; they'll never know the strain of being what we are."

Danny's eyes flicked to the side he'd heard Vlad from, but predictably, nothing was there.

His friends noticed, and stopped walking again. "Danny?" Sam asked warily. "What's up?"

It probably wasn't a good idea to tell them that Vlad had spoken up. "Uh." He floundered for an answer, but was saved by his Ghost Sense rippling out of his mouth in an abrupt exhale. "That," Danny replied, annoyed but also relieved that a ghost was around to cover for his reaction to Vlad.

Of course, right as he said it, what looked like a glowing green blob with red eyes streaked past him, snarling. Danny grimaced. "Of course. First period can never just start normal."

"Well, guess the heart-to-heart's over," Sam sighed, watching the ghost careen into the school wall and phase through.

"Yep," Danny confirmed, ducking behind a trash bin to go ghost without anyone seeing him. "Time for work."

The exterior of Casper High was the same as ever as Danny bolted off to go confront the ghost, except for the huge banner that was strung over the main entrance: "Spirit Week Centennial - 100 Years of Casper Spirit". Kids barely glanced up at it as they walked into the building. What drew more attention was the fact that Mr Lancer was jumping up and down on a trampoline under the banner, entirely too cheery for most of the students.

"Casper! High! Spirit!" Lancer was shouting, pumping his fists like a cheerleader. But with a grunt he lost his balance and landed badly on the edge of the trampoline; a few students giggled at the sight. The man dusted himself off, unfazed, and seemed about to start again, but Jazz approached.

"Ahh, Spirit Week," Lancer sighed by way of greeting even as the girl cast a skeptical look at the trampoline. "I love it so. The pomp, the circumstance, and most of all-- the spirit sparklers!" The man laughed too loudly, and looked down at Jazz. "Did you know I was a cheerleader when I went to school here, Jasmine?"

"Really?" Jazz replied flatly as the laughter around the entrance faded away. "Weird. No clue. Look, Mr Lancer, can I talk to you for a minute?" Her voice had softened, catching Lancer's attention as the two turned to walk into the school building. "It's about my brother, Danny."

They passed a few students loitering near the school entrance; Lancer tweaked an eyebrow. "Is this related to his dropping grades?"

"Maybe?" Jazz offered. "He's been… I don't know, different lately. Withdrawn, jumpy. Sometimes he disappears for hours and won't explain why."

Lancer tilted his head. "Come to think of it, he has had more absences since March," he conceded, sounding concerned. "Different how?"

"He acts like…" Jazz struggled with the words for a moment, "like something's weighing on him all the time. Like he's carrying some pressure no one else can see." She looked at the floor, dejected. "He'll smile at us, pretend everything's fine, but it's not. I know it isn't."

The pair turned down another corridor, Lancer listening to what Jazz had to say instead of stepping in with opinions just yet. He was Danny's teacher, but Jazz was the boy's sister; she had a clearer look into Danny's life.

"I'd talk to him myself, but he'd just think I'm being bossy and shut down harder," Jazz continued. "If he doesn't get help, if he doesn't talk to someone, it's all going to bottle up." She looked up at Lancer, concern in her eyes. "And one day, it'll come out the wrong way."

Lancer slowly nodded, stroking his chin. "You're worried it's not just teenage moodiness," he said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Jazz replied. "He's not lazy, he's not stupid, but lately he acts… like he's not even himself anymore." She paused, not sure if she should say this next part, but ultimately soldiered on. "And… it's gotten even worse in the last week. Muttering to himself a lot."

As they approached the faculty wing, a low rumble shook the floorboards. The two stopped in their tracks, exchanging a look. Lancer briskly moved toward the room it came from-- their new counselor's office-- and opened the door. They were greeted by a mess: shattered furniture, scorch marks, toppled decorations.

In the center of it all, Danny stood alone, hair disheveled, panting, fists clenched, and looking like he hadn't expected company.

"Good one, Fenton," he muttered to himself, irritated, rubbing his temple. "You let him get away. Idiot."

"Easy, Daniel," Vlad's voice whispered from behind him, low and honeyed. "Don't berate yourself. You fought well, and you'll learn from this. They won't understand, but I do."

Danny exhaled, shoulders relaxing just a bit-- but then Lancer stormed in and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him out of the destroyed room. He said nothing, just scowling as Lancer's scolding, Jazz's silent concern, and Vlad's steady presence blurred around him.

Ms Penelope Spectra's office was near-freezing as Danny and Jazz sat before the desk, with Lancer and Spectra herself behind it. Enough space had been cleared in the wreckage for them to comfortably move around, though Lancer had made noises about possibly making Danny clean up the rest of it for detention. In contrast, Spectra was overly cheerful, humming as she tweaked the thermostat control even colder. All four of them could see their own breath, but it didn't seem to bother the adults.

"Do you always keep it this cold in here?" Jazz asked a little awkwardly.

"Of course!" Spectra chirped back, sitting down again. "I find that chill air keeps the mind icy sharp! And don't you fret about the state of this office," she continued, gesturing broadly around them. "Accidents happen! No big deal. Right, Jasmine?"

"It's Jazz," she corrected flatly. "My friends call me Jazz."

"Yeah, well, your brother calls you annoying," Danny muttered under his breath, but loud enough for his sister to hear.

Jazz turned to look at him, concerned but insistent. "Come on, Danny, we used to talk all the time. Now you vanish for hours, you barely eat with us anymore…" Her voice lowered a little. "You look… tired. Like something's eating you alive."

Danny scoffed, crossing his arms but avoiding her eyes. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you."

Even as Jazz frowned at him, Lancer folded his arms and stood straighter, trying to project authority. "That's enough, Fenton. Show some respect. You'll remain here and stay quiet while Ms Spectra and I discuss your punishment."

Scowling, Danny slumped lower in his chair as the other three kept talking. For a second he watched his breath curl into the frigid air and twist away into nothing, before averting his eyes away from the others. He looked like he'd tuned out, staring out the window, but what everyone else couldn't see-- was Vlad, leaning backward against the glass, observing.

"Don't waste your energy snapping at her," the man coaxed as Lancer once again threw out the word "detention" to an overly-energetic Spectra waving it off. "Let her fuss, Daniel. Listen politely, then decide for yourself who truly understands you."

"Unlike her brother," Lancer was segueing into a new point, "Jasmine here is one of our best and brightest." The teacher puffed up with pride, as if this was somehow his own accolade. "She'll be presenting the keynote pep speech at the Spirit-a-thon."

Jazz nodded, smiling, not noticing Danny's eyes digging into her uneasily. "Yeah, I've been working on it all week."

"Right on!" Spectra returned, giving a little fist-pump. "That's why I'm here! To pump up the pep," she gestured to the photos lined up on the wall behind her, "one student at a time."

"Those students don't look very peppy," Danny deadpanned before he could stop himself. But it was true; the photos showed Spectra with a myriad of students, all of whom looked miserable next to the chipper counselor.

"I told you to be quiet, Fenton," Lancer scolded, before looking back at Jazz. "Ms Spectra is a highly-respected motivational speaker and teen therapist. She's agreed to help us reignite Casper High Spirit this week."

They were interrupted as the door opened and a short, stout man with graying hair walked in with a sheet of paper. He had a dour look on his face, eyes flicking to the siblings only briefly as he walked to stand next to Spectra's desk. Jazz smiled at him by way of greeting, but the man didn't react and her expression faltered.

"Ah, this is my assistant, Bertrand!" Spectra introduced the newcomer. "He'll be here to help with the assembly! Show them, Bertrand." The man lifted the paper up without saying anything, showing a mockup of an elaborate domino pattern spelling out "CASPER SPIRIT". Jazz squinted at it and Danny just side-eyed the man. "After Jasmine's keynote, we'll topple this chain. Each domino represents how one person's spirit affects the next person they touch!" Spectra did another fist pump. "Slammin', huh?"

"… If by slammin' you mean weird, then yes," Jazz replied after a moment.

"And the spirit sparklers," Lancer interrupted, bringing his hands up in something weirdly resembling anxiety, "those are still included, right?"

Spectra jumped up, onto her desk, brandishing two lit sparklers she definitely hadn't had before. "Of course! What's Spirit Week without spirit sparklers?"

Jazz tried to give a smile, but her eyes drifted to Danny-- still hunched, withdrawn, head turned toward the window even as he gave the three of them a sidelong scowl. She bit her lip, then looked back at Spectra. "You're a little over-peppy, but I think my brother might really benefit from talking to you." She missed the glare that Danny sent her way at this. "He's been… distant, moody. He disappears sometimes. And if I try to reach out, he just pushes me away."

Danny bristled, opening his mouth to argue, but Vlad interrupted him before he could start, walking forward and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't snap, Daniel," he reminded. "Let her speak. The more she insists you need help, the more you'll see who truly recognizes your strengths."

Exhaling, Danny bit back the argument he hadn't had ready anyway. Spectra leaned forward, her smile sympathetic, cheer dripping from her demeanor like running makeup.

"Don't worry, that's exactly why I'm here!" The counselor's voice was soothing but oily. "Teenagers carry so much hidden weight. If he's struggling, I'll help him unload it all."

"Good." Jazz sounded relieved. "Because if he won't listen to me, maybe he'll listen to someone else."

"Agreed," Lancer concluded. Then he glanced at Danny. "Daniel, get to class. You're late enough as it is. I'll tell you when your appointment with Ms Spectra is before lunch."

"Yeah, yeah," Danny grumbled as he pushed himself out of his seat. He gave one more glare at a concerned Jazz, storming towards the door, grabbing his backpack off the floor.

Vlad's voice brushed against his ear again as the other half-ghost vanished into the air. "Well done, Daniel," he said smoothly. "You see? When they doubt you, I'll remind you of where you stand. Don't resist, just observe. You'll learn quickly enough who has your best interests at heart."

Danny's hand tightened on the door handle for a fraction of a second, then he steeled himself, exhaled, and left the office without another look back.

The "Happy Chair" was probably the most ridiculous name for something he was sitting in as punishment.

Danny was stationed outside Spectra's closed door, head in hands, scowling at the floor. Lancer, true to his word, had informed him that he was to report to Spectra's office at 11:45 during lunch, which meant that he'd had only fifteen minutes to scarf down his food and explain his situation to Tucker and Sam. They'd seemed sympathetic, but the atmosphere was tense; everyone was still weighing the conversation they'd had that morning. Mercifully, Vlad had been quiet; Danny didn't even know if the man was watching now.

The door next to him opened, and out came Paulina, looking distinctly shaken. She stepped fully out of the office, then turned and looked at Spectra, who was hovering in the doorframe.

"So you're saying my popularity is, like, totally dependent on my beauty?" Paulina asked uneasily, rubbing her arm.

"Oh, honey, I'm not saying it's fair," Spectra replied sweetly, "but if you feel like you need more makeup, or new clothes? I say go for it! You're the only you you've got, and you deserve to feel confident." She looked down toward Danny as Paulina drifted down the hall, wilting. "Danny! Come on in."

Groaning, Danny stood and followed her into the office, shutting the door behind him. "Can't believe my sister talked Lancer into this," he grumbled, then glared at the thermostat as mist puffed out of his mouth. "And can we please turn up the heat? I can see my own breath."

"Wow, you do complain a lot. Hm!" Spectra chuckled as she sat, motioning for Danny to do the same. She smiled the whole time. "Well, your sister did say you could be a bit of a baby." There was a distinct something about her tone that rankled him, but he was immediately distracted by the actual words.

"She what?!" Danny demanded, outraged and already forgetting about the freezing room.

"Don't get mad at me, sweetie," Spectra replied, hands held up in a placating sympathy. "Those were her words. I mean, it's not your fault she thinks you're a loser."

Danny's eyes widened, thrown off. "Wait, she called me a loser too?"

Shrugging, Spectra stood up to walk around her desk towards Danny. "Hey, those are her issues, not yours. I don't think you're a loser, Danny." She'd walked around behind him, and placed both her hands on his shoulders. Souring, Danny's posture slumped. "I think you're a great kid. Just a little misunderstood."

"Careful, Daniel," Vlad's voice curled around Danny's thoughts suddenly. "See how easily the words of others can be turned against you? Listen, but do not swallow everything whole. You are wiser than they credit you for."

His hands twitched, his expression flickered as several emotions batted at each other-- defensive, hurt, angry, uncertain. He didn't reply, so Spectra crouched to eye level with him, still smiling infuriatingly.

"You know what I think?" She asked, voice dripping with cheer. "You're a mess… but 'mess' is just the beginning of 'message'!"

"What does that even mean?"

"It means that you're already halfway to being your best self!" Spectra didn't miss a beat. She straightened up, hands behind her back, cheery and saccharine. "Now go out and be a better you!"

Even as she beamed, Danny stared at the floor, shoulders slumped. Without another word he shuffled out the door, past a waiting Sam and Tucker, head spinning.

As the latch clicked behind Danny, someone phased up through the floor-- Bertrand. Spectra opened a compact mirror as he entered, checking her reflection with a satisfied expression. Imperceptible wrinkles slowly smoothed out, not even noticeable unless one actually saw the change.

"Marvelous," she purred, dropping the saccharine sweetness. "Misery really is the best skincare. And that Fenton kid… he's like a walking spa treatment."

Bertrand's form wavered and rippled, transforming-- turning into the same green blob ghost Danny had been fighting that morning. He leaned against the desk, smirking and casual. "You've come a long way since the days you were just a cloud drifting off of--"

Snap! The compact mirror closed shut with a crack like a gunshot. Spectra turned a glare towards her assistant. "Careful, Bertrand," she warned in a voice that was icier than the room temperature. "The past is dead." She gave a tight smile. "I'm thriving in the present."

But Bertrand seemed undeterred, just grinning at her, but he didn't needle further into whatever it was he'd been saying. "Mm. Just making sure you don't forget yourself. Besides, we have a big to-do list for Wednesday-- we should get started on that instead of wasting time on the small fry."

Spectra chuckled, regaining her sweet tone. "Oh, don't worry. Wednesday is still a few days away, and it'll give me more despair than I know what to do with. In the meantime…" She picked up Danny's student file, just looking at the photo for a moment. "I'll sip from the students, especially Danny. Teenagers. Such drama."

"Well, then perhaps I should stir the pot a little bit?" Bertrand stretched, tone sly, and his body began to contort. The green blob melted, reformed, arching as wings peeled from his back-- and finally clicked into the shape of a giant hornet, buzzing ominously.

He phased through the wall into the hallways as Spectra laughed after him, cold and bright.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch time. Students spilled out of the cafeteria and into the halls, the usual laughter and chatter a little muted but still present. Danny trudged towards his next class with Sam and Tucker in tow, expression dark, caught in his own head. The other two shared a glance.

"Dude, you okay?" Tucker tried.

"I'm fine," Danny replied flatly. "I just can't believe Jazz told that shrink I'm a loser."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure she said that?" She asked, skeptical. "Jazz doesn't talk like that. Doesn't sound like her."

Before Danny could answer, Vlad crept into his ear again. "Notice how quickly they defend her, Daniel," the voice whispered, velvet-smooth. "Even your friends doubt your experiences."

It was at that moment that Jazz rounded the corner ahead of them. She smiled brightly, approaching the trio, who stopped in their tracks. "Hey guys!" She greeted. "What doesn't sound like me?"

Danny's glare hardened; Sam and Tucker shared an uneasy look before taking a half-step back, watching the siblings square off.

Jazz seemed to read the room and looked thoroughly unimpressed with what she gleaned. "Still mad?"

"Wow, you really are the smart one," Danny said with biting sarcasm. "Gold star."

She stopped just in front of him, arms folded but expression soft. "Danny, I get that you're angry, but I'm worried. You've been… different, since the accident. You barely talk to me or mom and dad anymore, you're always vanishing--"

"Jazz, I know you think you're helping," Danny interrupted, irritated. "Maybe when I'm older, I'll appreciate it. But right now, I don't."

That didn't seem to deter her. "Well, you have to talk to somebody," she insisted, voice tighter. "You barely have any friends--"

Sam and Tucker frowned at her, clearly affronted; Danny's eyes flashed in indignation.

"Oh, but she isn't wrong, Daniel." The low, silken voice was more background noise than distraction.

"-- besides these two," Jazz conceded, gesturing at Sam and Tucker. "And you don't do anything outside of class. No clubs, no teams, nothing."

"Unless you count the ghosts," Tucker muttered behind him.

"Shut it," Sam hissed back.

Too many people talking now. Danny was fed up. "Maybe this is me now, huh?" He finally snapped at his sister. "Not everyone has to be pumped full of Casper Spirit every second of the day." He might have said more, but his breath puffed out in a fine mist before he had the chance. Ghost Sense? He thought. But I don't see anything. But there was the telltale chill of a ghost nearby, and he couldn't help but shiver at it.

"Danny?" Jazz asked, tone more concerned now. "You're shaking."

She reached out to touch his arm, but Danny flinched and jerked away, voice cracking louder than intended as he blurted the first thing that would excuse him from open view. "Leave me alone!" Danny shouted, before tearing off down a hall and around a corner.

Jazz stared after him, stricken. "It's worse than I thought," she said softly to herself, but she was interrupted by a random student bolting down another hall in the group's direction in a panic.

The kid grabbed the nearest person's arm-- Jazz's-- and yelled, "Hornet! Huge hornet! Run!" before jumping into an empty, slightly-ajar locker and closing it behind him… catching his own hand on the hinge and howling in pain.

Jazz might have helped, but down the hall where the kid had come from, the "huge hornet" in question flew into view. Green and black, bigger than a person, a stinger the length of someone's leg… and it turned its head to look towards the group. Jazz could swear it was looking right at her, and she screamed.

It darted directly for Jazz, locking its forelegs around her upper arms and twitching its stinger up towards her. But then, something-- someone?-- rocketed into the bug's side, knocking it away from her. All she registered from the impact was a shout. "Back off, ghost bug!"

But when Jazz shook her head and looked around, neither the hornet nor whatever had saved her were in sight. "That was a ghost?" She asked softly, stunned.

There was a beat.

"That was two ghosts?!"

Danny and the giant ghost hornet phased through the school wall into the courtyard, both recovering from the momentary disorientation of tumbling through the air. The bug recovered first, bracing itself hovering over a tree. Danny wasn't far behind, hovering between the school and the ghost, glaring.

"Someone call for an exterminator?" Danny taunted.

"My, you are clever!" the wasp bit back, and Danny immediately recognized the voice-- the same ghost he'd been fighting this morning. But he didn't have time to process it. "Let's see if you're quick."

The hornet lunged for him, diving and darting, aiming its stinger. Danny braced himself too late to dodge-- the tip grazed his forearm, tearing a rip through his jumpsuit and slicing a shallow gash in the skin. He cried out more in surprise than pain as a short spray of glowing green ectoplasm spattered the air.

"Whoa--! Never seen that before…" Danny glanced at where the green liquid was seeping out of the wound in his arm, somewhere between fascinated and concerned. "Since when do I leak glow-stick juice?"

"Focus, Daniel!" Vlad’s voice snapped in his ear, sharp enough to cut through the panic. "If you hesitate, you’ll hand the fight to him." Then, with a sigh softening his tone: "You can marvel at your anatomy later. Right now: yes, it should look like that."

That got Danny to refocus just as the ghost wasp was circling back around to take advantage of his distraction. Danny threw a glowing spherical shield up around himself-- something Vlad had helped him quickly master-- just in time; the hornet slammed into it, then bounced off with an angry buzz. The teen smirked, looked away for two seconds to grab the Fenton thermos… and when he looked back with thermos charged, the bug was gone.

The smirk became a scowl. "Gone. Again. Another ghost slips through my fingers at the last second." His voice was low, bitter, filled with self-directed annoyance.

"You push yourself so hard, Daniel," Vlad chimed in gently. "No one person could capture them all."

"Yeah, well," Danny looked at his leaking arm, "I got distracted." Was this the ghost version of bleeding? What did that even say about him?

Vlad’s voice was patient. "Distraction is a luxury you cannot afford, Daniel. You survived-- that is what matters. The rest can wait."

Danny lowered the thermos, not answering for a second, shoulders slumping. He didn't see the window above him as Jazz approached it to peer curiously at the ghost outside. "I dunno, maybe Jazz was right," Danny replied softly to Vlad. "Maybe I am a loser."

He lifted into the sky, a lone silhouette with a dejected posture. The ghost didn't even bother going back to class; he just flew off. Jazz stared after him, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"A ghost…?" She mumbled, then her expression lit up. "Wait till I tell Danny!"

"Are you seriously telling me you didn't see a ghost?"

Fentonworks glowed with warm light, but the mood was tense. Jazz and Danny both sat at the kitchen table, having just finished dinner-- their parents had run down to the lab to fiddle with some new invention, and Jazz had practically dragged Danny from his room so he'd eat with her. The boy in question was slouched, arms folded.

"I'm telling you it didn't look like a ghost to me." His voice was flat with bitterness. "It just looked like a big wasp. So I ran." Beat. "Like a loser," he finished with a mutter.

Jazz leaned forward, frustration plain on her face. "Danny, stop," she said firmly. "That's not who you are. You've been tearing yourself down like that for weeks, and I can't just sit here and watch it happen."

"Then don't."

Vlad's voice crept in like a vine, low and soothing. "She means well, Daniel, but she sees only weakness," he said. "She doesn't understand what burdens you and I carry."

Danny pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes flicking to the side, to empty space. Noticing, Jazz frowned and pushed harder. "You don't talk to me anymore. You disappear for hours. Now you're calling yourself a loser when you're not." She paused, looking conflicted. "You're my brother and I--" Her voice cracked, and she redoubled, sounding more frustrated than intended. "Danny, I can't help you fix this if you won't let me in."

"Fix," Vlad repeated to him. "That's all she sees you as. A project. A problem to solve."

"Maybe I don't need fixing!" Danny snarled back.

The silence was uncomfortable; Jazz's eyes were wide with hurt. Something twinged in Danny's chest at the sight and he immediately regretted his tone, but then Jazz straightened, somehow looking sad, tired, and yet resolved. "I was right. You're not going to listen to me, are you?"

"Nope," Danny replied coldly, the twinge gone.

"Good boy. Short, sharp, unassailable," Vlad whispered at him. "She'll have nothing to grab hold of."

Jazz squared her shoulders, the resolve in her expression hardening. "Then you leave me no choice," she said matter-of-factly, before raising her voice to call into the other room. "Mom! Dad! Can I talk to you about Danny?"

Alarmed, Danny straightened bolt upright, looking over his shoulder to the doorway. "What? Jazz, no--"

But Jack and Maddie were already barreling into the kitchen, the former holding some device that looked like a handheld sewing machine if it didn't have blades like a blender.

"Is something wrong with Danny?" Maddie asked immediately.

"Is there a ghost involved?" Jack demanded.

Without waiting for an answer, Maddie leaned in, right in Danny's face, her voice all gentle concern. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"That involves ghosts?!"

Danny froze like a deer in headlights, not sure how to react. Vlad saved him, voice snaking into his head once more. "Deflect," he said, instructive but soothing. "Point them away from you. Make your sister the problem, not you."

"I-- uh--" Danny stammered at first, but then his face cleared as a spark of mischief flashed in his eyes. He grinned. "Actually, yes!" His voice was bright. "Jazz thinks she saw a ghost today. Tell 'em, Jazz!"

"Good boy," was all Vlad gave him, even as Jazz's face drained. Danny leaned back, smug, while his sister looked utterly betrayed.

"What?!" Their mom was sufficiently distracted, rounding on Jazz and grabbing the teen's shoulders with urgency. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Grinning, Jack brandished the strange new device. "It would've been the perfect chance to test the Portable Fenton Ghost Peeler!"

Vlad scoffed audibly. "There it is again," he said, voice low and poisonous. "Every invention of theirs is made to cut, burn, or tear ghosts like us apart. Peeler, they call it." There was a pause. "Do you see now, Daniel? If they ever knew the truth about you… well, you'd be their first test subject for things like that butcher's toy."

Even as that was being said, the siblings' dad had pressed a button on the handle. With a loud clanking, plates of armor shot out of the back of the Peeler to encase him in a hulking metal suit. Some combination of momentum, weight, and clumsiness had Jack immediately losing his balance and falling forward, crashing onto the kitchen table and sending it skittering across the tile. "Whoops!" Jack said from the floor, apparently unable to get back up on his own. "Still counts as field testing."

Distraction in chaos, Danny remembered Vlad's advice from the prison break. Always seize it. He stood to leave, face and expression all cheerful dismissal. "Well, enjoy your chat!" He slipped out of the kitchen while the others were distracted by Jack, before Jazz could recover and stop him.

Jazz made a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan, looking down at her father struggling to get off of the floor, Maddie bending down to try to help. With them distracted, she allowed herself one soft, broken question. "What's happening to you, Danny?"

Danny had evaded Jazz the rest of the night and even the next morning; he'd kept his door locked, didn't answer when she knocked or called for him, and had mysteriously managed to slip by without her noticing to get to school. She'd even gotten up bright and early to keep an eye on his door, but Danny must have jumped out of the window or something, because it had never opened. So she was resolved to get to him at school.

He evaded her there, too. But Jazz managed one win-- she cornered Sam and Tucker in the hall in the morning rush of students mingling before first period, Danny nowhere to be seen.

Not that they were very helpful, either.

"Don't you think he's been acting weird?" Jazz was insistent, even as the two younger students were leaning back against their lockers and exchanging panicked looks. "I mean, gloomy, negative, like he's carrying the weight of the world?"

"It's called high school, Jazz," Sam deflected, glancing at Tucker. "Or puberty. Or being a fourteen-year-old. Take your pick."

"Yeah, we've got exams coming," Tucker added, stowing his PDA into his backpack. "Besides, even if there was something up, we're Danny's friends. That means we keep his secrets from you." His shrug wasn't very convincing.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at the two of them, then reached into her purse and dug around for a second. When her hand came out, it was clutching a twenty dollar bill, which she offered to Tucker silently.

The boy took it, face brightening. "Although, now that you mention it, he has been--"

Whatever Tucker was going to say, he didn't get to finish. Sam snatched the bill away from him, pushing it back at Jazz. "No, forget it. Look, Jazz, we get that you're worried, but Danny isn't falling apart." She paused, glancing down the hall. Danny happened to be coming their way, looking at the floor, but his eyes occasionally flicking to the side like someone was next to him. "… At least, not in the way you think."

"You… don't see him when he comes home," Jazz said more softly, almost pleading. "He shuts me out more and more every day. He won't even look me in the eyes half the time."

"Listen, yeah, he's carrying stuff he doesn't want to dump on you," Sam conceded, but her voice was firm. "He's fine, he just doesn't want you in his business. You don't have to worry. He keeps some things to himself, but it's not like he's doing anything criminal."

As if on cue, the fire alarm shrieked out. The three of them whipped around to see what was happening, only to see Danny, frozen mid-step away from a drinking fountain, his backpack strap somehow caught on the lever for the fire alarm. The boy looked bewildered, and clearly hadn't done it on purpose, but students turned to glare at him anyway when the overhead sprinklers started drenching them.

The students were moved to the front courtyard of the school like any standard fire drill, except most of them were soaked and markedly more unhappy. A small collection of first responders were on the scene: a fire truck, an ambulance, and two police cruisers. Most of the workers were milling about on the grass, talking to each other and writing things down, also not happy about the clear waste of time.

"A month's detention?!" Danny exclaimed at Lancer, who was looking over him and his friends. Behind him, Tucker was wringing out his beret, and both Jazz and Sam were trying to do the same to their hair. "But I didn't do anything!"

Before Lancer could respond, Spectra slipped into the scene gracefully, stopping just behind Lancer's shoulder. "Hey, Mr Lancer, it was an accident!" She spoke, her voice as sweet and sticky as syrup. "Let's not be too harsh." The counselor looked at Danny, sliding around to his side. "But accidents can become acci-don'ts, right Danny? Learning moments!"

"But--"

"No buts, Fenton," Lancer interrupted, wagging a finger at him. "You endangered school property and wasted city resources. You'll be spending quality time in detention with Ms Spectra." He puffed out his chest with pride. "Why, when I was your age, I got the same advice. And look how I turned out!"

Danny stared at him, scowling, water dripping from his bangs.

But they were let go within the next few minutes, sent back to class. The boy trudged alone back inside, his backpack squelching as he tried adjusting it. His eyes only flicked to the side briefly as Vlad materialized into view; Danny was used to this by now.

"Quite the spectacle, Daniel," the man intoned dryly, arms folded but not stern. "A surprise fire drill? I'd almost think you enjoy chaos."

Danny just brushed past, and Vlad followed him, floating lazily as if lounging in midair. "I didn't do anything," he repeated. "My bag got… caught, or something." He yanked the soggy strap as if to prove it.

"Mm." Vlad was quiet, no teasing. "Not caught. Hooked. Nudged."

The teen paused mid-step, looking at his mentor. "What?"

"I saw it. A hand, or perhaps a claw." Vlad shrugged. "Not yours, certainly. Someone else's little trick."

He fully stopped in place now. "Then why didn't you say anything?" Danny demanded, voice rising in frustration. He threw his hands up. "Now everyone thinks I did it!"

Vlad stopped floating with a smirk, feet on the ground now. "And what would you have said, hm? 'It wasn't me, Mr Lancer, a ghost pulled the fire alarm!' Do you honestly think they'd believe you?" The teasing was back, but only lightly. "They'd double your punishment for wasting their time."

"So…" Danny clenched his fists, "so I just… take the blame? Again?"

The man reached out to put a consoling hand on Danny's shoulder. "Sometimes, little badger, the best move is silence," he said, voice lower. "Not every battle can be fought. The world is eager to blame you; don't make it easier for them."

Danny’s jaw worked like he wanted to argue, but the words never came. He let out a breath, shoulders sagging. "Right. Yeah. Guess it doesn’t matter what I say, anyway." He adjusted his bag and trudged off, still dripping water onto the floor.

Back to Spectra's office for him. Same time, same rushed lunch, same freezing room. Danny had managed to explain to Tucker and Sam what had happened-- a ghost pulled the fire alarm and framed him for it. Their skepticism for Vlad's word was mitigated by the knowledge that Danny would have had no reason to do that, but they still seemed uneasy. The conversation had to be cut short, though, because it was time for his "detention" therapy session.

Which is why he found himself in a top hat, knee socks, a sash labeled "SPIRIT" strung on his chest, and a diaper over his jeans.

Danny was seated in Spectra's office in this humiliating getup, arms crossed and scowling at the counselor. "This is supposed to help me how?"

"Oh, Danny, we're confronting your fear, remember?" Spectra reminded him sweetly. "People call you a baby? Then let's own it! Wear it, be it." She walked around her desk to stand next to him, glancing briefly toward the door. "Once you're not afraid, their words can't touch you."

He sank lower into the chair. "I'm not afraid of being called a baby," he argued sullenly, before continuing more quietly, "I'm afraid of being called a loser."

Spectra leaned forward over his shoulder. "Ah, but you see? That's the same thing. Loser, baby, weakling… it's all just reflections of how others see you. And you," she tapped her temple lightly, "care too much about what other people think."

The door opened suddenly, and Dash walked in with two of his football teammates, carrying large boxes of decorations. "Hey Ms Spectra, where did you want--" And they froze mid-step. They'd seen Danny.

"Oh man, you guys seeing this?" One of the jocks broke into a grin.

"It's the Casper High Spirit Baby!"

All three of them burst out laughing. The sound rang sharp and cruel in Danny's ears and he froze, face burning. He wanted to disappear, to go ghost and turn invisible, to sink into the floor. But then he gave a resigned sigh and looked at the floor, muttering, "Of course."

He slumped further into his chair, shoulders folding inward. Spectra's hand came to rest on his shoulder, deceptively gentle. The faint lines of wrinkles etched onto her face smoothed once more, her complexion brightening as a wisp of green light snaked up from the boy into her touch. Danny didn't see.

What neither of them saw, however, was Vlad. He leaned against the wall, behind Danny, arms folded and watching neutrally-- until Spectra acted. Then his eyes narrowed; he'd seen it. The siphoning, Spectra's youth restored by Danny's misery. His expression stayed calm, but his gaze became sharp and calculating.

"See?" Spectra went on, her voice velvety and coaxing. "The laughter doesn't end you, Danny. It just shows you who you are inside." Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction. "And maybe? That's someone who deserves to be laughed at."

The boy stiffened, glaring at her with something between indignation and despair, but said nothing. Spectra ushered him into the hall to "parade his true self". The humiliation lingered like smoke in his lungs.

Vlad stayed behind in the shadows of the office, watching, expression now unreadable. The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. But his eyes glinted with recognition. Cogs turned in his head. He knew what this was, but he'd never seen one hiding so brazenly in plain sight. "A scavenger…?"

Sensing something more off than usual, Sam and Tucker (but mostly Sam) pulled Danny to the local Elmers Pharmacy to treat him to ice cream after school. Other students had apparently had the same idea; Valerie and Kwan milled about a fair distance away, voices faint but worried, and Paulina sat at the makeup counter with a hand mirror, obsessively fussing over her face and hair. The group had grabbed a table near the ice cream counter. Tucker was chowing on his third strawberry cone, Sam was pointedly eating what looked like a block of frozen tofu, and Danny was picking at a banana split halfheartedly.

"Man, that baby suit thing?" Tucker said around a mouthful of ice cream. "Brutal. Could barely watch." He leaned his PDA over so Danny could see the screen-- Tucker had gotten digital footage of him trudging through the school hall, students laughing and jeering at him. "Half the school's got it on their phones now. Comedy gold."

Danny snapped upright from his slouch, glaring at Tucker, who shrank back a little. "Whose side are you even on?"

"He's kidding, Danny," Sam intervened, firm but gentle.

He just slumped again, emotional energy spent on that outburst. "Yeah. Sure." Rubbing his face, he ignored his half-eaten ice cream. "I don't get it," he continued, voice heavy. "Why am I so-- so depressed and angry all the time? Why do I feel… empty?" He put his arms down, glaring at the banana like it was at fault. "Spectra's supposed to help me, right? But the more I see her, the worse I feel."

Vlad leaned in, visible and audible only to Danny. "I would say it's because you're fourteen, little badger," he started, voice low, "but it's because she feeds on that misery. She sharpens it, then sips at it until you don't know which thoughts are your own anymore."

Danny didn't get the chance to ask what that even meant, because his breath puffed out of his mouth again. Ghost Sense. Here, at a pharmacy? He tensed up, ready to go ghost and engage.

And then he was distracted from that, too. Jazz approached the group's table. "Hey, Danny. How's it going?"

"Like you care," Dany retorted sharply. "Just go away, Jazz."

"Focus, Daniel," Vlad whispered in his ear. "Something's coming."

Danny flicked his eyes around the pharmacy, not really hearing whatever Jazz was saying in response. And then he saw it-- the blob ghost that had been harassing him yesterday, slinking around behind where Paulina was applying makeup. Thinking fast, and glancing at Sam and Tucker, Danny landed on an excuse to get away and out of sight. Suddenly he stood. "Yeah, well, if you're gonna take her side, then you hang with her, too!" He said a little too loudly, pushing Jazz into the now-vacant chair. "Here, take my seat-- you've already taken my friends."

Jazz leapt back up, reaching for Danny, but he'd already turned and bolted for the pharmacy's back door. She raced after him. "Danny, wait!"

Sam and Tucker exchanged a panicked look, then without a word stood and chased after the siblings, Tucker still clutching his ice cream. They saw as Jazz pushed through the half-open door into the back alley, and then all they saw was a flash of light.

Jazz scanned the alley, figuring Danny couldn't have gotten far with her so close on his tail. He'd never been the most athletic kid, anyway.

And then she saw him.

Danny stood a few yards away, his back to her. Just… standing there. Jazz started forward to talk to him, then froze as a ring of light appeared around his midsection, split into two, and traveled up and down his body respectively. He started glowing-- his white shirt and blue jeans morphed into a slick black and silver jumpsuit, his hair turned white, and suddenly he was the ghost boy she'd seen at school yesterday.

Unseen by Jazz was Vlad standing off to the side, watching Danny transform but flicking his gaze down both sides of the alley to check for danger. His eyes landed on Jazz and widened slightly in surprise-- but he stayed quiet as Danny took flight to engage the ghost threat.

"Danny?!" Jazz whispered, watching her brother-- a ghost!-- shoot off into the sky.

No sooner did Danny disappear from view than Tucker and Sam skidded into the alleyway. They looked up at the empty sky, then back down at Jazz with alarm on their expressions.

Jazz whirled to face them, panicked. "Did you see that? Tell me I didn't just see what I think I saw."

Tucker cringed, trying to play it off with a forced grin. "It's not what you think!"

Sam's hand grabbed Tucker's wrist to shove the ice cream cone into his mouth. "Of course it isn't," she said, sounding much calmer than Tucker. "Ghosts aren't real. Jazz, you sound like your dad."

She stared at the two of them for a moment, before remembering their words from that morning.

He keeps some things to himself.

We're Danny's friends. That means we keep his secrets from you.

Jazz blinked in realization. Then she forced a smile and a laugh, too. "Oh. Right, of course. My parents are such loons it must be rubbing off!" She checked her phone with fake brightness. "Wow, is it that late? I gotta go work on my Spirit Week speech!"

Without waiting for a reply, she ran down the alley and around a corner, out of sight. Tucker and Sam both sighed shakily in relief.

Danny phased back inside, invisible and hovering over the aisles and shoppers. He looked around quickly, trying to find the ghost blob that had started this whole mess. His attention was diverted by a cluster of screams-- a few shoppers were now fleeing from a green ghost-panther. The blob must've taken a new form.

He shot down to meet the threat, becoming visible again. "Are you following me, you creep?" Danny demanded of the panther, which just gave a growl of relish.

"Why chase the cub when I can go straight for his pack?" It roared back mockingly, before running directly under Danny-- straight at Tucker and Sam, who must have come back inside at some point.

The two of them seemed to realize the danger they were in, backing up as if unsure where to run.

"Hey!" Danny shouted, snapping around to chase the ghost. "Back off!" He collided with the panther, whipping both of them into a rack of greeting cards which were sent flying everywhere. More screams sounded as civilians vacated the battle zone. The two ghosts skidded into a shelf, which toppled over and dislodged a light fixture.

A paw slammed into Danny's face as the panther disengaged from him and prowled back toward Sam and Tucker.

"Uh, Sam?" Tucker's voice shook. "I think we just got demoted from sidekick to snack."

Vlad's voice sounded in Danny's ear, a firm push. "Steady. Redirect his attention. Don't flail-- control." Something had changed in Vlad's tone-- the teasing was entirely gone, replaced with a quiet seriousness. "If he reaches them, he'll tear them apart."

The ghost was already lunging for them, targeting Tucker first. The boy stumbled back, dropping his ice cream. "Not good, not good!"

"Move!" Sam dove and shoved Tucker aside, carrying both of them out of the way of the pounce.

Danny pushed himself back up and leapt more than flew into the ghost. "No! You leave them alone!" The two collided again and, this time, crashed into the cold food display. Broken glass and refrigerated drinks spilled out over the floor. The two ghosts struggled on the floor for several long seconds, twisting and clawing and punching. Eventually the two broke apart, Danny's jumpsuit torn in a few places again, oozing ectoplasm.

The panther prowled out of reach, intentionally kicking a crushed box of frozen waffles out of the way with a paw. "Look at the pathetic little loser ghost," it sneered. "Can't even defend his little baby helpers!"

A spark of anger in Danny's head flared into a flame and he straightened up. "Do." He twisted his stance, both hands cupped at his side. "Not." A glowing orb of green formed between his hands. "Call." The orb grew bigger, and Danny's natural ghost aura flared brighter. "Me." Finally he thrust his hands forward, the ecto-beam shooting out of them with force. "A loser!"

The blast was more powerful than he'd expected, and more than he'd ever done before. It widened and brightened from a green ray into a near-blinding white cone that was still green at its edges, ripping through the tile floor as it shot toward the ghost. But the ghost quickly leapt out of the way, leaving the beam to strike a wall, blasting a hole clean through the brick and concrete.

Everything was quiet for a few moments as the blast died down, Danny breathing heavily. All four of them looked around at the destruction the battle had caused-- shattered glass, collapsed shelves, half a wall gone, absolute wreckage. At least the civilians had evacuated.

"Well, that's enough damage for one afternoon," the panther drawled, before reforming back into a blob and drifting through the ceiling. "Ta!"

Danny's posture collapsed all at once, shoulders slumping. "And he gets away again," he berated himself, quiet and bitter. "Guess I'm still the town loser."

"Hope this place is insured," Tucker mumbled.

Danny heaved a sigh. He waited for Vlad’s voice to cut in, some sharp correction or mocking tease. But there was only silence. Without another word, he too drifted through the ceiling, flying in a random direction to find somewhere far away to change back.

He didn't notice Jazz outside the pharmacy, staring after the white-haired boy as he streaked away, the weight of everything finally dawning. Danny wasn’t just hiding something. He was something.

Once again back home at Fentonworks. Jazz peeked around the doorframe into the kitchen, spotting Danny with his dinner, though the food was untouched. Instead of eating, her brother was chasing peas around the plate with his fork, staring down at the table, head propped up. She just stood there for a moment, seeing how tired and dejected he seemed after that brawl at the pharmacy.

Like he'd felt himself being watched, Danny looked up at her without moving his head. "What?"

"Nothing," Jazz replied quickly, before approaching him. He just glared at her, putting his fork down. She leaned in and made eye contact, studying him for a moment. Then she reached down and lightly squeezed the top of his arm.

He jerked back like she'd burned him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Checking," Jazz answered without thinking, then quickly covered by shaking her head. "Nothing! Just put my hand down without looking." She watched him rub his arm, frowning at her. "Look, I… I know I've been hard on you lately. But you know I think you're great, right?"

"Yeah, right," Danny muttered, looking away. "That's not what I hear."

"Then you heard wrong," Jazz reassured earnestly. "I know you think I'm pushy, a know-it-all, maybe even a jerk sometimes--" She paused, frowning, as Danny just gave her a satisfied smile and let her go on. She sighed and put her hand around his wrist, fingers brushing his pulse point. "... But I'm your sister, and I care about you." She squeezed lightly but for a second too long, and smiled at him as she let go. "Even if you think I won't get it, you can talk to me. About anything."

Danny hesitated. He looked at her, then her hand, and then at the empty space next to him, before he opened his mouth and looked back at his sister. "Jazz, there's… stuff I don't even know how to explain." His voice was soft. "I…"

The conversation was interrupted as a loud crash from the living room startled them both by rattling the house. The siblings jumped, then rushed over to see what the problem was.

Their dad was proudly standing amid the smoking ruins of their couch, cushion stuffing strewn across the floor, holding the Peeler like a prized fish. "I'm telling you, if we can track down that ghost at Jazz's school, we'll be able to peel it like an onion!"

"Well, we can't completely vaporize it," their mom pointed out from beside him. "Don't you at least want to examine the remains?"

Jazz and Danny exchanged a look, her hand still on his shoulder. For a second he looked guilty.

"Careful, Daniel," Vlad whispered in his ear, smooth and steady. "Do you really think she or your parents would understand the truth? The more you tell them, the more danger you put yourself in."

Dany pulled away from Jazz's touch, masking a reactive flinch. He looked away from her face, not wanting to see her concern right that moment.

"It's okay," Jazz assured him softly. "You don't have to have the words right now, just… Just don't shut me out. Please."

He swallowed hard. If anyone deserved to know, it was her. For a moment he felt like he might cave, but Vlad was suddenly there, hands on both his shoulders. Not hard or pressing, but enough to remind Danny of his steadying presence.

"Do not hand her your burdens, little badger," the man said with a sympathetic sigh in his voice. "She cannot carry them. Only we can."

Danny forced his expression to harden, and he turned away. "… I don't feel like talking about it."

"Yeah," Jazz sighed, but she smiled. "I figured." The next thing Danny knew, Jazz had put her hands on his shoulders in the exact same manner as Vlad, using him to balance as she leaned over and kissed the top of his head before walking away.

Danny stared after her for a second with a surprised blink. A small smile twitched across his face-- warm, almost wistful-- but he spotted Vlad's raised eyebrow and the realization hit him. He grimaced suddenly. "Ugh. Gross."

Vlad's raised eyebrow became a smirk, but he didn't comment. Danny heaved a big sigh, trying to shake off whatever that conversation had been, and left to retreat to his room.

He didn't bother turning on his light as he entered the bedroom, locking the door behind him. The streetlamp outside cast a dim light into the space through the blinds, enough for him to see by. Had his low-light vision always been this good, or was it a ghost thing? Danny gave an irritated sigh at his own train of thought before sitting heavily on the side of his bed, pulling his sleeve up to look at the damage he'd sustained today.

There had been a myriad of cuts and bruises immediately after leaving the pharmacy, but most of them had healed already, no longer visible. What was left were a few fine scratches on his arms and side, not immediately visible to a casual observer. Danny pulled up the side of his shirt to check on himself, registering but ignoring the sudden presence of Vlad seated next to him. He let the cloth drop again, and the two sat in silence for a moment.

Finally Danny spoke up. "Am I even… alive?" He pressed his fingers to his chest, as if checking for proof.

There was a pause before Vlad responded. "Of course you are. You mustn't overthink it, Daniel." There was something hard to define in the man's voice, unlike anything Danny had heard from him before. "You're breathing. Your heart still beats. Your blood still runs red."

"Yeah, but--" Danny started, before hesitating. "-- that wasn't blood earlier. I saw it. Was… was I leaking ectoplasm?"

Outside the door, Jazz paused on her own way down the hall, a mug of something warm in her hand. She heard the low voice of her brother, conversational but quiet in volume. Maybe he was on the phone with Tucker and Sam? She lingered, curious, listening.

"Yes. A quirk of our nature, nothing more," Vlad said matter-of-factly. "Our physiology lives in both worlds. But, understand, Daniel…" He leaned in, tone softer, almost fatherly. "You are still flesh and blood and bone, in this form."

"Then why doesn't it feel like it?" Danny asked, staring at his hand and flexing his fingers as if that would tell him anything about his own body. "Half the time I'm not even sure if I'm human anymore."

Jazz's brow furrowed as she heard that. Only able to hear Danny's side, she tilted her head closer, concern and anxiety flickering across her face.

"That uncertainty will cripple you if you indulge it." Vlad's voice had become clipped, like a teacher pulling a student back to focus. "Your enemies thrive on instability. If you falter, they will exploit it. You must treat this as a challenge, not a crisis."

But then something in both expression and tone softened. "Do you think I never asked myself the same question, Daniel? I have stood where you are now-- wondering if I was simply a ghost wearing a human skin." Vlad's arm draped across the back of Danny's shoulders. "It is terrifying. Existential. But I assure you, it is survivable."

Danny hesitated for a moment, digesting that. When he spoke again, his tone was flatter, less inflected. "So I'm supposed to just… accept it? Like it's normal for green goo to leak out of my arm?"

"I said nothing of 'normal', only that it is yours," Vlad replied wryly, a thread of amused exasperation in his voice. "And it will not kill you. That much I promise. But you must trust me when I tell you how to endure it."

He gave a dry laugh at that, not amused. Danny let himself fall backward onto his bed, out of Vlad's shoulder-hug, and stared up at the ceiling. "That's supposed to make me feel better? Is that the bar now? 'Won't kill me'. Great."

Vlad's response had picked up that familiar coaxing, instructive tone. "It should. Those are the hallmarks of life." He chuckled. "And you, for all your confusion and inexperience, still cling stubbornly to it."

Danny sat up again, squeezing his wrist and staring as the veins strained against his skin with the pressure. "But if I'm half-ghost… does that mean I'm dying? Or… already dead?" A pause, then more quietly, "Did the accident kill me?"

Vlad just smiled softly, again with amused exasperation. "Always so dramatic. No, Daniel. You are neither corpse nor ghost entirely. We exist in both states, straddling a boundary that is meant to be crossed once." He poked a finger into Danny's chest as if to prove a point. "Whether our accidents killed us or not is irrelevant. We are alive. It's simply… complicated."

"Complicated," Danny repeated, voice cracking slightly. "Yeah. That's one word for it." He hesitated. "… My parents always said ghosts were just evil monsters. Not… people."

"That is the tragedy of ignorance," Vlad said in a more serious voice, tone cooling, almost cutting with disdain. "To them, ghosts are simple predators, bits of ectoplasm preying on humans. They cannot comprehend nuance." His expression and tone warmed again. "But you, Daniel, you are proof that the line between monster and person is far less clear than anyone would like to admit."

Danny leaned forward, restless but considering. "So… what does that make me?" He asked after a moment. "A person with a monster in him… or a monster with some human parts left over?"

Outside the room, Jazz's expression faltered at the rawness in Danny's words. Her hand leaned against the frame, torn between barging in to give her brother hugs and reassurance or keeping silent. She'd never heard him talk like this, never heard this level of existential dread in his voice.

"It makes you Daniel," Vlad corrected, soft, almost soothing. "Breathing, bleeding, stubborn Daniel." He chuckled; even Danny had to crack a tired grin at the phrasing. "That has not changed. What has changed is that you now see the world differently. You have gifts that others do not." A small pause. "It frightens you because you do not yet understand them." There was something distant in Vlad's voice at that, as if chasing something half-remembered.

"And… if I never do?"

Vlad hesitated at the question. Then he smiled, and when he replied, his voice had a warmth to it that somehow felt more genuine than anything else in this conversation. "Then you will still be alive. And that is more than enough. Ghosts are more than caricatures of evil. You are more. More than what they fear, more than what they think, more than what they see."

He sat to absorb this for a moment, expression flickering between comforting and unsettled. "Yeah," he finally said softly, almost to himself. "More."

There was a long silence, and Jazz didn't hear anything else come from the room, not even a goodbye to whoever he was on the phone with. She pulled herself away from the door, conflicted, distantly aware that her mug had become cold in the meantime. But, ultimately… this was Danny's secret to tell her when he chose to. Not hers to march into his room after eavesdropping on a private, very heavy conversation. And at least he was opening up to someone. With a light sigh, the girl slowly turned and continued down the hall to her room, shaken.

The atmosphere of Casper High the next morning was distinctly more gloomy than it had been the last two days. Students shuffled by looking exhausted and miserable, the din of conversation a low hum of complaints and resignation. Dash and Kwan discussed their dead-end futures a few yards away; Paulina warned Valerie of early wrinkling as the two passed the trio by. The nearby "Happy Spirit Week!" sign hung like a sadistic joke.

"Uh, is it just me, or is this the worst Spirit Week in the history of Casper High Spirit Weeks?" Sam asked with a quirked eyebrow, watching the two girls walk past them.

"And to top it all off, we all get to sit through Jazz's lame speech about… putting the "I" back in "spirit", or some other nonsense." Danny was looking down the hall, expression bored, as his sister moved through the hall with a spring in her step. She caught his eye and waved, smiling. "The heck is she so happy about?"

"Don't ask me," Sam shrugged. "Usually I'm the gloomy one. Compared to everyone else, I'm the goth bird of happiness."

"Yeah, me too," Tucker added, looking at Dash slump against his locker. "And come to think of it, we're the only ones in our year who haven't had a therapy session."

Danny frowned at him thoughtfully, as if that dredged up something in his mind. But he couldn't dwell on it, because Vlad materialized next to him, leaning down.

"Of course," the man said softly, voice cool and deliberate. "It all makes sense."

Turning to look at him, Danny blinked. "What makes sense?"

"Uh…" Tucker started uncertainly, "Danny, who are you talking to?" As if it could be anyone else.

"Is it Vlad again?" Sam demanded, hands on her hips.

Vlad and Danny both ignored them. "Your school counselor, Daniel," the older half-ghost clarified, low and urgent. "Spectra isn't just preying on insecurity-- she is feeding on misery like a fine wine. She's one of us. A ghost."

Danny's eyes widened. "Wait, Spectra's a ghost?"

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look. "Wait, okay, hold up," Tucker tried to interrupt. "Did Vlad just--"

"And now he's suddenly helpful?" Sam cut in sharply. "How long has he known this and just kept it to himself?"

Too focused on Vlad, Danny didn't answer. "Don't let your friends distract you, Daniel," Vlad dismissed the other two, voice smooth and coaxing before suddenly sharpening into something serious. No-nonsense. "Spectra is only a symptom. The true problem is deeper than one scavenger holed up in a school." He paused. "But if you want to stop her, you'll need to act quickly. Her kind cannot be allowed to feed."

"Danny, hello?!" Sam's volume was increasing.

Danny looked torn for a moment, but then nodded. "Okay. Right." His eyes slid over to Tucker and Sam, and he gave them a slightly apologetic smile. "We, uh… need proof."

Fifteen minutes later, the door to Spectra's office swung open, and both Tucker and Sam shuffled out, looking miserable.

"I hate my life," Tucker groaned.

"I hate your life more," Sam muttered.

Spectra popped her head out of the doorway, grinning wide enough that the lines carved into her face stood out more visibly. "Buh-bye! And remember kids, misery loves company." The door slammed shut.

The door didn't stop Danny. In ghost form now, he phased invisibly through, stopping in a hover in the middle of the office. Back at her desk, Spectra gave a sigh of relief as she coaxed green wisps of energy into herself, rejuvenating her skin. It faintly glowed as the lines were smoothed, the color turning just a shade more vibrant. Danny's eyes widened slightly at the confirmation of Vlad's assessment.

The blob ghost Danny had been fighting all week phased in through the back wall. Spectra turned to look at it, smiling with satisfaction. "There you are. Did you hook up the device?"

"Of course," the ghost-- who could only be Bertrand-- replied casually. "Once the sparklers go off and we vaporize the only cheerful kid left in this place, the despair will keep us young forever!"

Danny stiffened with realization. Vlad's voice curled around his ears. "See, Daniel? Proof enough." There was no gloat in his tone-- just a clipped seriousness. "She is exactly what I said she was-- and she is after your sister."

The bell rang before he could respond. "Assembly time!" Spectra exclaimed, and the two of them phased through the wall into the hallway, leaving Danny alone in the room. "Jazz," he whispered, quiet and urgent, the weight of the situation setting in.

He'd sent Sam and Tucker off to go watch the assembly just in case, then patrolled the halls in ghost form, still invisible. Danny had a few moments to think back on the last few days, remembering half-recognized signs that Spectra had been a ghost with minimal coaching from Vlad. The cold air-- it had masked his ghost sense as just being him seeing his breath. The blob ghost-- it had appeared the same day Spectra had, and was usually near the school. Both of them had berated him, poking at his insecurities. The boy almost berated himself for not seeing it sooner.

But now that he knew what to look for, tracking Spectra and Bertrand down wasn't hard. Both of them were back in their human forms, strutting down a hall toward the auditorium where the assembly was being held. Fashionably late, it seemed; the corridor was abandoned except for the three of them.

"Element of surprise, Daniel," Vlad coaxed in his ear. "You always announce yourself before you fight. This time, don't."

The two ghosts were apparently mid-conversation. "After we've destroyed everything," Bertrand started, looking up hopefully at Spectra, "you up for a cappuccino?"

"Ooh, that's a marvelous idea--"

They were interrupted by an ecto-blast into Bertrand's back, sending him flying across the hall with maybe a little more force than was strictly necessary. But it felt so good to get back at the creep. Danny watched Bertrand skid into a bank of lockers with satisfaction on his face, then turned visible mid-air as Spectra whirled to face him.

"I figured it out, finally," Danny started, a little more coldly. "You feed on misery, don't you?"

"Good," Vlad hissed. "Name her game. Take control of the field before she does."

"I'm… sorry, can I help you?" Spectra tried asking, the cloyingly fake sweetness back in her voice.

"No, I'm sure you can't," Danny deadpanned. "You can't help anyone but yourself." He glanced past Spectra as she braced herself, watching Bertrand push himself back up. "You find that one thing a kid's most afraid of. Their future, their looks," his voice wavered slightly but steeled again, "their confidence. And you pick at it, over and over, while you and your snippy little assistant feed on it."

"Hey!" came Bertrand's irritated interjection.

Spectra just clapped mockingly. "Very good!" Her eyes flashed red. "But I fear you've missed a few details."

Smoke swirled around her form as it collapsed into a misty darkness, a vaguely-humanoid shadow that coiled and writhed in ghost-mist. The smoke clung to the lockers and walls like mold, seeping into every crack, and something about it made him shudder, uneasy. Danny braced himself as Spectra hurtled toward him, but it was a distraction-- now in panther form, Bertrand tackled him from the side and the two phased through a wall into the courtyard.

Vlad's voice was there, urgent, firm, keeping him grounded. "Keep your head, Daniel! Don't let them box you in--"

Now that they were outside, Danny could hear Jazz's voice in the assembly hall, amplified by a microphone but still muffled and distant. "And so, in this centennial year, we honor the past with this ceremonial domino chain. Each one will topple into the next, and trigger our traditional spirit sparklers."

Danny looked in the direction of the auditorium, alarmed, wondering how much time he had to save his sister. Taking advantage of his distraction, Bertrand slammed the boy into a tree, pinning him with a snarl.

"You thought you could stop us?" The panther mocked him. "You? You're just a frightened little kid!"

A paw came down with claws extended to slice for his chest, but Danny reacted before thinking and went intangible, phasing through the trunk of the tree. The claws harmlessly raked the bark, leaving inch-deep furrows. Bertrand hesitated, not expecting this, and Danny burst out of the ground under him, sending the panther flying.

"Yes." Vlad's voice had remained firm and coaching. "Turn that fear into momentum. He presses your hesitation; deny him that."

But the lesson was interrupted as Spectra used the chaos to snake up behind Danny, lunging forward with a clawed hand and roughly seizing him by the throat. Danny thrashed in her grip, but she only wound tighter around him, coiling around to pin his arms and lock his legs, claws at his throat and abdomen.

"Let go!" Danny shouted, struggling.

"Why would I?" Spectra taunted with a hiss. "Your doubt. Your misery. It's delicious!" She floated higher, giving Danny a view into the auditorium through a high window-- Jazz smiling at the podium, dominos falling, ominous-looking devices pointed at her. "And soon, when the dominos fall and the sparklers vaporize your dear sister-- we'll leave you here to take the blame!" The ghost chuckled in his ear. "And by the time I'm done with you? You'll be sure it was all your fault!"

Vlad's voice was sharp. "She doesn't just want to feed, she wants to break you. Don't give her the satisfaction-- push her off of you with a shield, like I taught you."

Danny gritted his teeth. "Man, I am so tired of you dumping on me," he snapped at Spectra, before gathering energy. "And I am so tired of dumping on myself." He glanced through the window at his sister, then narrowed his eyes, a thin green barrier forming between himself and the ghost. "Jazz never treated me like that-- even when I was pushing her away." The glow of Danny's eyes brightened. "And I won't--" the shield solidified, pushing outward, "-- let her down!"

The shield coalesced into a sphere, but didn't stop there-- it actually burst outward in a small shockwave, forcing Spectra off of him entirely. The ghost just flew out of reach, smirking. "Bertrand~ Sic him!"

Bertrand heeded the call, jumping up onto the school roof. Mid-jump his form wavered and changed-- this time taking that of a green ninja, even wielding a pair of nunchucks. The ghost spun the weapon and ended with a flourish, posture ready for battle.

Danny was not impressed. "I so don't have time for this." With a bored expression, he pulled out the Fenton Thermos and pointed it at Bertrand-- who didn't seem to know what the device did, because he didn't react until he was starting to get pulled in. The ghost struggled to pull free, howling, but ultimately vanished inside it. Danny smirked, shaking the thermos as he turned to look at Spectra again. "Hope you like cramped living quarters."

Spectra glared at him, lunging. "You're through!"

Danny slipped out of the way, grabbing her wispy "tail" as she zipped past. "And you're done telling me what to do!" With that, he used his own momentum to drag Spectra through the air,spinning around before letting her go. Gravity did the rest of the work, and Spectra ultimately slammed into an open dumpster, lid closing from the impact above her.

Danny hovered there for a second, expression a quiet sort of triumph, and almost braced to fight the ghost more-- but with a shock, he realized he was low on time, and his eyes darted to the window again. The chain was almost down. "Jazz!"

"Then go," Vlad purred. "Save her, Daniel. Prove yourself."

Without replying, Danny rocketed toward the auditorium wall, phasing both intangible and invisible to rescue his sister.

He flew at top speed-- faster than any car he'd been in, faster than he'd ever gone before. Even as he phased through the school's exterior brick wall he saw the last few dominos in the chain fall-- he had seconds. As close to Jazz as he dared mid-flight, Danny flicked off his intangibility, careened into her side, wrapped an arm around her, and turned his intangibility back on without pausing. There was the sound of something exploding behind him, before he phased through the far wall, into safety, and out of view of the assembly.

Danny halted mid-air, trembling slightly as he let Jazz down, turning off both invisibility and intangibility and just hovering there for a moment. They'd landed in a storage room, dimly-lit and stacked with boxes for various school plays, sporting equipment, and assorted special occasion supplies. The siblings made eye contact; Jazz looked politely shocked, and Danny offered her a small smile.

Before either could say anything, however, Danny was roughly yanked backward through another door and covered in smoke-like mist. Spectra had found him again, and in a whorl of shadowy tendrils, she spun him around and pinned him against the wall. Her trail flicked, slamming the door behind them.

She seized his head. "Look at you," she snarled, voice dripping venom. Danny fumbled for the thermos, but she simply knocked it out of his grasp, sending it clattering across the floor. "What are you? A ghost trying to fit in with humans? Or some creepy little boy with creepy little powers?"

"Steady now, Daniel," Vlad coached. "Do not flinch for her."

"Both!" Danny blurted without thinking, defiant. Then his tone wavered as he actually processed the question. "Uh… neither!" It didn't help that Danny himself had no idea what the answer was. Bad timing, given the conversation he'd had with Vlad, or was she digging it out of him somehow? Man, he didn't have time for this existential crisis. "I don't know!"

"Ha!" Spectra crowed. "You're a freak! Not a ghost, not a boy-- are you even alive? Or are you just possessing your own corpse?" She tightened her grip, claws digging in painfully as the smoke swirled around her with renewed vigor. "You're nothing! Who could care for a thing like you?"

Danny had no idea what to say to that, and it took the fight out of him for a second. Vlad swept in once more, tone sharp, cutting through the boy's panic. "Call her what she is," he instructed. "Scavenger. Say it, boy."

"Y-yeah?" Danny started, trying to square his shoulders in her grasp and glare back at her. "Well, you're… nothing but a scavenger!"

He didn't know what he expected that to do, or why Vlad had told him to say it. But to his shock, the word clearly had an effect-- Spectra drew back sharply with a hiss, letting go of him for a fraction of a second. This gave Danny enough slack to struggle, moving forward and fighting to push her away.

"Good boy," Vlad praised approvingly. "See how she recoils from truth? Use it."

But then, too quickly, she redoubled her grip, pinning him to the wall by the throat and wrist. "How dare you!" She shrieked. "I am so much more than that! I've grown from shadows and scraps, until I forged myself from the fog." Her hand around his throat tightened. "And what of you? You think you can--"

"Excuse me?"

Both ghosts froze as Jazz's voice cut through the skirmish. She stood in the doorway that Spectra had slammed shut earlier, holding… the Fenton Peeler? Why did she even have that? Spectra hissed in irritation at the interruption as Danny just stared wide-eyed at his sister, a flicker of fear threading through him. What did Jazz plan to do with that weapon?

"I don't know this kid," Jazz started, "but I do know he deserves a second opinion." Her thumb pressed the button to activate the Peeler, leveling it at Spectra. As with Jack, the device expanded backwards in a series of clanks, extending metal armor around her, fitting her form with a soft hum. She quirked an eyebrow behind the faceplate, clearly weirded out, but refocused-- a beam of blue-white light engulfed Spectra and she let Danny go, who scrambled backward to get out of the line of fire.

Even as he pawed around for the Fenton Thermos, he couldn't take his eyes off of what was happening in front of him. The smoky, misty form of the ghost peeled away to reveal the human disguise, which peeled away to reveal a more aged version, and again, and again, all while Spectra wailed in agony. By the end, she was nothing more than a shifting mass of shadowy fog, making a high-pitched, wordless whine in the wreckage of her previous forms.

"Man, talk about having nothing within," Danny muttered, hand clamped around the thermos. The mist-ball-thing drifted around the room as if looking for an escape, but with a high-pitched electrical hum and a flash of light, Spectra was finally sucked into the thermos. In the silence, Danny allowed himself a small smile, before standing.

"Well." Jazz wasn't looking at him; she was looking down at the Peeler, deactivating it. With a whirr, the metal armor retracted back into the device. "Looks like that worked. Still weird, though." The girl lowered the weapon and stepped toward Danny, smiling.

He couldn't help but flinch, startled, shoulders hunched like he expected to be mocked or attacked.

"Breathe, Daniel," Vlad coaxed, tone softer than it had been all day. "She cannot touch you now."

But Jazz seemed to realize that Danny was still in battle-panic, and paused before putting on forced dramatics. "Ahh! A ghost!" Her tone was not convincing, but she jogged to the door, leaving Danny standing there with the thermos, nonplussed. She tossed a tiny smirk over her shoulder at him. "You'd better get out of here." And she darted out of sight.

Danny exhaled, posture relaxing as all the tension left him. He turned-- and smacked face-first into a stack of boxes, yelping. "Ugh." He withdrew slightly, rubbing his nose. "Right." And with that, he turned intangible and flew out of the room.

Jazz smiled from around the corner. "He'll tell me when he's ready."

But all Danny heard was Vlad. "Very good, Daniel. Very good indeed."

The rest of the school day was great, in comparison to the last few days. With Spectra and Bertrand gone, the student body was markedly more cheerful, even celebrating Jazz's return to the stage. Danny managed to get through the day without more trouble, and even weaseled his way out of the rest of the detention Lancer had given him-- Vlad had encouraged the boy to lay the "Casper High Spirit" on thick, and Lancer fell for it completely.

He was feeling so much better by the end of the school day that he practically dragged Sam and Tucker straight to the Nasty Burger to celebrate once the final bell rang. They seemed uncertain but pleased at his sudden shift in attitude, and the three sat at their usual table with their food. Sam had her typical salad, Tucker was eating a burger with at least three patties in it, and Danny was chowing down on some cheese fries. But Danny's happier demeanor didn't mask his distraction, the shadow in his eyes. The two stole glances at each other, wordlessly wondering when to bring it up.

Tucker broke the silence first, stealing one of Danny's fries to mask with some playfulness. "So… that Spectra lady," he started as Danny quirked an eyebrow at him. "She was… what, exactly? Like a vampire therapist feeding off sadness?"

"Something like that," Danny shrugged. "Vlad called her a scavenger, said they're a kind of ghost that latches onto negative emotions. Feeds on them, keeps people miserable so they don't run out of food."

Sam frowned and leaned in. "Yeah but see, that right there is the problem. Vlad said. How do we even know he's right?"

"Yeah," Tucker hesitantly agreed. "He's smooth, I'll give him that. But half the time it feels like you're quoting a textbook that nobody else has read."

"Because nobody else has read it, Tuck," Danny sighed, rubbing his temple like he was tired of having this argument. "Guys, he knows stuff. He's been a half-ghost longer than any of us have been alive."

Lowering her voice, Sam narrowed her eyes. "Or he's just feeding you his version of the truth," she countered. "If Spectra proved anything, it's that some ghosts lie for a living."

He shifted uncomfortably. But from behind him, Vlad leaned over Danny's shoulder, unseen by anyone else. "Careful, Daniel. They mean well, but they cannot fathom what you endure. Meaning well is not the same as knowing what must be done. They will question what they can't see, and doubt what they can't understand."

"I mean," Danny started, aloud, "it's nice to have someone in my corner that knows what they're doing, you know? He's been right about things. Like with Spectra."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Sam asked, stabbing her salad with her fork. "That Vlad's explanations line up a little too neatly?"

"It's like every answer just happens to come from him," Tucker added. "No one else. Not your parents, not the teachers, not us. Just Vlad."

"Because none of them can guide you as I can," Vlad scoffed to the side. "Do you see how they second-guess you? How quick they are to strip your victories bare?"

"He hasn't been wrong," Danny retorted defensively.

The other two exchanged a look, and Sam's expression softened. "We're not saying he's wrong, Danny, we're just saying… be careful, okay?" She paused, then soldiered on. "If you start thinking his voice is the only one worth listening to…"

Danny set his fries down with a little more force than necessary. "Can't you guys just… let me have this? For once?" He pleaded. "Things actually worked out today."

Tucker raised both hands placatingly, which would have been a nice gesture if they weren't dripping with burger grease. "Hey, we're not saying it didn't. You kicked butt today, dude." He lowered his hands again. "But maybe don't, you know… outsource your brain?"

"We trust you, Danny," Sam added earnestly. "We're just not sure if we can trust him. There's a difference."

He scowled. "I'm not outsourcing anything, okay? I'm learning. I wouldn't have been able to do that trick with my ghost shield without him. Isn't that what you guys want me to do? Get better at this?"

"Yeah, just…" Tucker started, "we've never even met the guy. And you've known him for what, two weeks?"

Sam's tone was gentler. "Of course we want you to get better, Danny. We just don't want you getting pulled into something worse."

Danny looked between them, then exhaled heavily, frustration softening into tiredness. "You guys just… don't get it," he mumbled. Then as he leaned back against the booth, he looked down at the table to avoid their eyes. His gaze landed on the trash piling up. "I'll go toss this stuff, okay? I'll be right back."

Without waiting for an answer, he stood and gathered up their trash, leaving the half-eaten food and knowing Tucker would probably steal more of his fries. Danny shuffled off toward the trash can, the others watching him go. But as soon as Danny was out of earshot of them, Vlad slid into the empty space to his right.

"They distrust me because they do not know me," he reminded Danny, voice dropping low. "Because my knowledge and experience frightens them. They will drag you down with their fear if you let them, little badger."

"They just…" Danny whispered back, under his breath, "they're my friends. They don't want me to get hurt."

"And yet, who saved you from Spectra's talons?" The man asked. "Who taught you to name her for what she was? Did Sam whisper the word that made her shriek? Did Tucker? No. That was me."

Danny swallowed and did not answer, staring down at the trash he held like it would tell him what the right thing to do was.

Taking his silence for an answer, Vlad kept going. "There is no shame in keeping secrets, my boy." His tone was parental, soothing. "In letting them believe future insight is yours. It will make them respect you more, trust you more. You can leave my name out of it." He watched Danny dump the trash, shoulders hunched. "In time, they will follow where you lead. But for now? Don't let them see weakness."

Taking a steadying breath, Danny paused for a moment, stacked the tray on top of the trash bin, and forced a casual smile before turning around to walk back to the table. Vlad lingered a moment to watch him, then vanished into the air.

By the time Danny reached the table, the other two had finished their food and were gathering up their own trash. They straightened as he approached, seeming confused at the change in his bearing.

"Hey, uh…" Tucker started, trying to sound casual. "You wanna hit up the arcade next? Blow off some steam?"

Danny's smile twitched slightly. "… Yeah," he decided. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Sam studied him for a moment, clearly not convinced, but she didn't press. Instead the three of them gathered their things, Danny flicked a straw into Tucker's nose, and the strained air about them melted into relaxed, friendly banter. Even as they made to leave the restaurant, smiling and joking, Danny's posture was a little too stiff. If the others noticed, they didn't show it. Sam did look at him and falter for a split second, but then Tucker threw a fry at her, and the moment was gone.

"Good boy," Vlad's voice whispered in the back of Danny's mind. Danny didn't react. "You're learning."

It was already dark out by the time Danny got home. Jazz sat in the living room, a half-finished mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her as she worked with a psychology textbook and a highlighter. School stuff, but she dove into it with fervor. She was rapidly scribbling notes onto paper when the front door clicked open, and she looked up.

Danny shuffled in, wearing a hoodie with the hood up like he didn't want to be seen, hands shoved in his pockets. He glanced over to her only briefly. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Jazz greeted back, setting her highlighter down as she watched him stroll into the kitchen. "Mom and Dad aren't home. You out late with Sam and Tucker again?"

"Yeah. Made it back before curfew." He gave her a tired smile as he pulled open the fridge, then vanished from view as he bent down for something. "Just needed to blow off some steam."

"You'd think that creepy guidance counselor vanishing would've helped with that," she probed gently.

Even past the fridge door she could see him stiffen and pause. But then he stood upright again, closing the door with a hand that was now holding a can of cola. He popped it open with a carbonated hiss, and took a long sip before responding, like he was weighing his words. "Guess some things just… stick around."

The phrasing didn't quite sound like him, and Jazz raised an eyebrow before closing her textbook. "You've been quieter lately," she remarked. "Even before Spectra showed up. Not like I'm-tired-of-homework quiet, more like… something's been weighing on you."

Danny gave her a lopsided smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're reading too much into it."

"Am I?" Jazz was careful to keep her tone away from accusation. "Because I know what you look like when you're just being moody. And I know what you look like when you're… not. This is 'not'."

For a second, Danny's expression faltered. His mouth opened, then closed again, and he flicked his gaze to the side, almost past her. He stared at the wall for a fraction too long before looking back at her, calm. "You don't have to worry about me, Jazz. I'm fine."

But she'd seen that flicker in his eyes, that microexpression that told her that there was something he wanted to tell her but felt like he couldn't. Jazz looked at him for a moment, and when she spoke up again, it was soft. "You don't have to tell me everything, you know. But don't lie to me either."

Danny was already moving for the stairs. "I'm not lying," he claimed. "Just… there's nothing to talk about."

Jazz watched him head up the stairwell for a few seconds before calling after him, tone carefully light but with a serious undertone. "I'll always be here to listen to you, little brother. That's all I'm saying."

Something about that made Danny pause at the top of the stairs, and she watched his shoulders slacken, then square up again. He didn't look back at her. "… Night, Jazz."

He continued out of sight and to his room, leaving his sister staring at where he'd been, silent. Jazz exhaled slowly, leaning back against the back of the couch, considering. "He'll… tell me when he's ready," she repeated to herself.

Chapter Text

The Fentonworks living room was its usual organized chaos: half-finished inventions Jack had dragged up from the lab, strewn across the table; blueprints and research papers sitting on one end of the sofa like they were meant to be there. The faint hum of the various machines downstairs vibrated faintly through the carpet, a constant reminder that the house doubled as a mad science lab. The lights in the main room were on, almost masking the orange glow that came from the huge neon sign outside, which had turned on as it started getting dark.

Jazz had already retreated upstairs with her books and a cup of tea; Maddie worked on something down in the lab, the faint squeal of metal being welded occasionally floating up to the ground floor. Jack was in the kitchen foraging for snacks and making a mess, leaving Danny sitting at the coffee table, slouched, doing homework and trying not to think too hard about everything else. After a few moments of flipping his pencil idly in his fingers, the boy sighed and stood, gathering his schoolwork, thinking maybe it'd be easier to focus up in his room.

He was halfway up the stairs when the sudden chime of the doorbell rang out through the house.

"Jack!" Maddie called distantly from below. "Can you get that?"

Without answering but with all the grace of a dying antelope, Jack bustled past the stairs with a half-eaten fudge bar hanging from his mouth. The ice cream started dripping down the side of his chin before the man used one hand to grab it and the other to swing the door open… to Vlad Masters.

Danny froze instantly on the stairs, having glanced over his shoulder to watch his dad’s antics, tired and unimpressed. The visitor quirked an eyebrow at Jack with a mocking amusement. "Jack. What a… delight." The tone was smooth and practiced. "I was passing through town on business, and simply couldn't resist stopping by." Vlad had the same tailored three-piece black suit he always wore, the same careful calm, but there was something sharp in his demeanor.

Oblivious to it, Jack grappled Vlad in a bear hug. "V-man! Business, huh?" Danny distantly heard his mom's footsteps coming up from the lab as Vlad tried with forced politeness to push Jack off. "Don't tell me the cheese empire's expanding to Illinois?"

"Not-- quite," Vlad replied with some effort, managing to wriggle free from Jack's grip. "Axion labs has been courting me," he continued with more composure, smoothing his suit, "for a potential partnership. They value discipline. Precision. The ability to keep even… volatile elements under control."

"Axion?" Maddie had finally joined them at the door, pleasantly surprised but not with as much raw enthusiasm as her husband. "That's serious work, Vlad. Still chasing that dream of cleaner tech?"

"One does what one can to better the world," Vlad gave a bow that simultaneously seemed both mocking and sincere. "Besides…" he straightened up, making eye contact with Maddie, "Amity park has its own charms." The man's eyes slid past the adults to immediately spot Danny on the stairs.

He wasn't expecting to be directly looked at, and didn't know what to do for a moment. "Great," he mumbled, grasping for a reaction to give.

Vlad seemed to sense the floundering, and simply raised his voice. "Ah, Daniel," he called warmly, with a little too much casual calm. Danny's shoulders relaxed a little. "There you are. I was hoping we might have a moment soon to… catch up."

"Uh."

"Why don't you come in?" Maddie asked, not noticing Danny's discomfort. "Jack, go clear off the couch--"

But Vlad just smiled, raising a hand politely. "No, no, I won't impose tonight. I simply wished to drop by and say hello, remind you," his gaze flicked to Danny and back to the parents, "that I'm never quite as far away as I seem." There was a pause, and the smile widened. "Besides, I may be spending more time in Amity Park if Axion proves to be… sufficiently persuasive."

Jack clapped Vlad on the shoulder with a goofy grin, still oblivious to the twitch in the other man's expression. "Well, you'll have to stay for dinner next time! Maddie makes a mean meatloaf--"

Vlad pushed away again, smile thinning. "I'll… hold you to that, old friend." His eyes flicked to Danny again-- silent, but pointed. The mask dropped; the man's expression was sharp and expectant, and gave a quiet promise. It was the same look he'd given Danny at the reunion, and he knew what it meant: Training. Soon.

Danny just swallowed, unsettled.

Without missing a beat, Vlad's charm was back as he stepped back from the doorframe. "Until then! Stay safe, everyone. You especially, Daniel." He grinned, a fraction more sharply than was comfortable. "No teenage boy hijinks." He turned and left, disappearing out of the light, before the door finally closed behind him.

Danny stared at the closed door for a few seconds. Maddie was frowning slightly, thoughtfully; Jack just shrugged, chewing on his fudge bar. After a moment, the boy took a heavy breath and continued up the stairs, reaffirming his grip on his homework. He mumbled under his breath. "Safe. Right."

Casper High looked the same as it always did-- brick walls bleached by decades of sun, posters for clubs and cheesy inspirational quotes plastered next to trophy cases, and a constant drone of teen chatter in the halls. It always smelled faintly of floor polish and bad food, a mix that clung to the lockers even when it was nowhere near lunch time. Students drifted in packs between classes. To Danny, it was all background; the only thing that mattered right now was the heavy thud of sneakers pounding after him.

Danny burst through double doors into a hallway, sweating, trying not to lose stamina. Dash barreled after him, red-faced and clutching a crumpled page in one hand.

"Fenton!" his classmate roared. "You're not getting away this time! I'm taking this grade out of your hide!"

"Why-- is it-- always me?" Danny panted as he sprinted down the hall, turning a corner. Every time Dash scored low on a test, he always came after Danny; it didn't even matter if Danny had gotten a higher or lower grade. Guy really needs to invest in a punching bag, he thought sourly. One that isn't me.

He was too occupied looking over his shoulder to notice that he was running straight into a group of other A-Listers.

"Valerie, I love your top," Paulina was saying between sips of her overpriced coffee. "Totally worth the price."

The girl in question was wearing what appeared to be a bright purple shirt with white trimming and a few buttons holding its v-neck closed. Whatever brand or material it was, Valerie seemed to be quite proud of it. "Isn't it sweet?" She crowed. "Five hundred and seventy nine dollars, and worth every one of my dad's pennies."

"Nice!" Kwan lauded, his usual sort-of-overexcited self. "That's almost as much as your shoes!"

Danny only noticed the group when he was too late to come to a clean stop. Though he tried to brace himself, he skidded and slipped into Paulina, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Paulina's coffee went flying, smacking Valerie in the face with enough force to dislodge the lid and open. For a beat, everyone was frozen: Paulina recovering, Danny internally panicking, Kwan looking on in shock, and Valerie in disbelief as hot coffee dripped down her hair and shirt.

And then Valerie turned her stunned look into a glare directly down at Danny. Sensing danger, he scrambled back to his feet as quickly as he could, turning away just in time to hear her say "Please hurt him."

"Hey, accidents hap--"

Kwan's attempt to keep the peace was interrupted as Valerie yanked him by the collar of his shirt, growling. "Do it!"

But Danny had already bolted, and by the time the exchange was over, he was already halfway down the hall.

"Fenton!" Danny heard behind him.

Great. Now both of them were coming for him. "Gotta keep moving," he hissed as he came to a three-way split. "Gotta keep-- wait." Danny braced to a halt, quickly looking down two directions of the hallway. From one end, Dash; from the other, Kwan. Danny ducked his head so they wouldn't see the flash of green eyes as he tensed. They barreled closer--

-- and with a satisfying thud, crashed into each other as Danny turned both intangible and invisible. Now he had a moment to breathe, but not here. The boy jogged through the nearest wall, which happened to take him into the school parking lot. A cursory glance; nobody was around, no windows to spot him through. He became visible and solid again, finally taking a moment to rest with hands on knees and catch his breath.

"Alright, Vlad, go ahead," Danny sighed, not bothering to mask volume. "Say something smug about… composure or strategy or…"

But no answer came. There was silence. Just the rustle of wind.

"Huh." Danny frowned, a little unsettled. "Guess I'm on my own for once."

He didn't have time to contemplate that. His breath curled out of his mouth, an icy mist in the warm late-spring air. Danny tensed, immediately going ghost and looking around. At first he saw nothing… and then he glanced down. A small, bright green ghost puppy happily trotted up to him with a wagging tail, yipping once.

Danny blinked. "Seriously?" He muttered, before bending down to pick up the dog. The dog didn't seem terribly fussed about it, so he lifted it and examined the collar. The tag gleamed with a logo he thought he'd seen before-- a stylized capital A with dots orbiting it like an atom. Smiling, Danny put the dog down again. "Now you, I can handle."

As if on cue, the puppy started glowing and swelling. Danny blinked and stepped back, uncertain, as the dog suddenly towered over him, growling and drooling.

"Or not," he corrected himself, staring up.

Axion Labs-- a pristine, high-tech facility on the inside, imposing and unwelcoming on the outside. Floodlights, barbed wire, and security guards ringed the exterior, but within? A simple showcase of security measures to the CEO.

The company was well-known for its bleeding edge technology in a variety of fields-- not least of which were medical biotech, computing, defense, and aerospace. If there was a new prototype somewhere with features that felt a decade ahead of their time, chances were that Axion was involved. And this proactivity toward innovation had recently attracted a very wealthy potential business partner, so Damon Gray was tasked with overhauling security in preparation for that person's visit.

The man strutted down the hall confidently, leading a group of four others-- two security guards at the back, but right behind him were his boss and his own daughter. Valerie was getting to be that age-- not enough to do, often asking her father to buy things for her. Showing her around the facility might get her interested in interning there.

"Digital surveillance, retinal scanning protocols, titanium doors, laser deterrents-- exactly as promised," he stated proudly. "The most secure facility in the United States." It was a bold claim, but even if it wasn't true, one would be hard-pressed to prove it. "As promised."

"Well done, Damon," the boss praised. "Feel free to bill me for the remainder of your fee."

"Which means I can replace this top," Valerie put in. Some incident at school had ended with coffee all over her. It came out of the girl's hair easily, but left a stain on her new, very expensive shirt.

"And best of all, no more smelly security dogs," the boss ignored her.

With incredibly bad timing, a furious barking sounded behind the titanium doors. Everyone froze, the guards uncertainly hovering over their weapons. Then with a loud series of bangs, huge dents caved the metal in toward the group, and the doors burst open.

A teenager about Valerie's age crashed through first, landing on his back near the group. Damon stared, trying to process what just happened, before glancing at the guards who were clearly unsure whether they were supposed to shoot or not. The girl jumped, stepping back.

"What are you?" She demanded.

The boy didn't answer, just sitting up, running a hand through his probably-bleached white hair, before scrambling back to his feet. A huge green dog was bounding toward him, slobbering all over the polished floor. It stopped near the group and shook its head, splattering its saliva all over, including on Valerie.

"I'll tell you what I'm not," the strange boy grimaced. "Covered in dog drool."

Even as Valerie yelled in frustration, the massive dog barked and barreled past the group. The teen boy twisted around to call after it. "Bad dog! Sit! No-- stay!" And with a surprisingly high and long-lived jump, he lunged for the dog, grabbed its collar, and was pulled out of sight.

Out of sight was not out of sound, though. Damon could clearly hear the wreckage in the next room-- shelves falling, people scattering, the dog barking, the boy desperately yelling to try to rein it in. He didn't notice the footsteps approaching from the other direction until the owner spoke.

"What in the world happened here?"

Everyone spun around to see a tall, elegant man dressed in a black three-piece. Damon already knew-- this was Vlad Masters, the potential business partner whose impending visit he'd upped security for in preparation for in the first place. He was early.

The man's demeanor was calm, smooth, though his eyes flicked to the CEO. "I fear I've come at a most… inopportune moment, haven't I?" There was only a slight amusement in Vlad's mild tone, no outrage, no disappointment, just the steady sense that this was a normal afternoon's entertainment.

The dog streaked into view again, bounding down the end of the hall, this time without the boy. But the kid wasn't too far behind, also bolting past so quickly he didn't even touch the ground. Damon glanced at Vlad to judge his reaction, but the man was only watching the chaos, arching an eyebrow at the boy specifically.

And the boy, himself, didn't notice who was watching him. Danny just streaked after the dog, trying to get it under control so it would stop wreaking havoc all over the place. He could almost hear Vlad's voice, what the man would tell him right now.

Composure. Don't react to the chaos; control it.

He didn't have time to consider how the thought seemed a little off. The dog was barreling through another wall, tail wagging like this was some kind of game. Danny narrowed his eyes and darted in front of it, grabbing the collar again-- and getting dragged along as the dog didn't even seem to notice him.

"Woah!" Danny shouted, feeling like a ragdoll. "Slow down! Heel, boy, heel!"

The dog plowed through another set of machinery, showering sparks all over. Danny flinched instinctively, losing his grip and tumbling headfirst into a console. For a moment he just laid there, groaning.

"Halt! Halt!" The security guards were finally doing their jobs, running toward the disturbance with weapons drawn. Laser fire streaked over Danny's head-- aiming at the dog, but way too close for comfort-- and Danny realized he had to move.

He scrambled back to his feet and shot after the dog, just barely managing to grab the tail. "Cut it out, you stupid mutt!" Danny snapped, any facade of composure he'd had cracking.

The dog responded by slamming into a support pillar. With a shriek of bending metal, the walkway above groaned and collapsed onto a line of computers. The three bystanders-- Damon, Valerie, the CEO-- screamed and scattered to get further away from the ricochet of debris, but Damon in particular rushed over to a wall.

"Stand back!" He shouted, slamming a red emergency button. "State-of-the-art security system! Nothing gets through."

The room started flashing red as a sphere descended from the ceiling, covered in lenses. A web of lasers flickered to life, but the two intruders simply seemed to go right through it. A net was fired from the wall-- dodged. The dog tore down another hall and the net sailed past its intended target… straight into the group.

The three of them sat in the net, Vlad looking on from a distance away. Damon tried his luck speaking, nervous. "I'm… fired, aren't I?"

"Oh, you're not just fired," came the CEO's seething calm. "You're ruined." As the guards rushed over to free them all from the net, he looked at Vlad. "Masters. You see this madness? This is not what our company stands for. Rest assured it will not happen again."

"What I see is a valuable stress test, if nothing else," the man remarked, watching the boy try to redirect the dog out of the building. Vlad quirked an eyebrow again, ignoring the release of the net, just watching Danny finally get the ghost dog out of the building through a wall. Valerie glared after him but stayed quiet.

Composure, Daniel, the boy could almost hear. Don't let the beast lead you.

Danny looked down at the rampaging hound from where he'd managed to clamber onto its back. At least it was streaking in a direction away from buildings and people. "Yeah," he muttered, frustrated. "Easy for me to say."

"So let me get this straight," Tucker started, sipping his soda through a straw. "He just popped up at your house? No warning?"

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were side-by-side on the sidewalk, walking to Fentonworks after hanging out at the Nasty Burger. The block they were on was quiet, residential; very little risk of someone overhearing enough to be dangerous, so it was a good chance to talk about sensitive things. Like Vlad suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

"Yeah. Middle of the night, too." Danny shrugged, more confused than his friends, who wore skeptical looks. "He said he wanted to check in. I mean, weird and sudden, sure, but he didn't do anything. Just talked."

Sam was not impressed. "You say that like it's normal for half-ghost billionaires to visit your house without warning," she gave flatly.

"Look, it's Vlad," Danny returned, sounding tired of the conversation already. "He does dramatic entrances, and he's friends with my parents. It's not like he was threatening me."

"He doesn't need to threaten you, Danny, that's the point."

"Still, if he's hanging around and showing up in your head, that's a whole new level of disturbing," Tucker added, distracted by his PDA screen. "One Vlad sounds creepy enough. But two?"

Danny hesitated, not sure whether to tell them that Vlad had been suspiciously absent during the incident. No haunting, nothing. But he decided no, it wasn't worth the fight. "Yeah, well," he started, trying to lighten the conversation by changing the subject, "at least I had something else to worry about this afternoon."

"Let me guess," Sam snorted. "Another ghost?"

"Little green puppy. Well… more like giant green wrecking ball." Danny made an exasperated gesture. "He chewed through a fence post, almost flattened a parking lot, and dragged me to some lab out at the edge of town."

Tucker grinned. "Puppy? Was he cute?"

He sighed, but couldn't help but crack a smile. "Yeah. Cute. In the 'I'll wreck your entire living room just to wag my tail' kind of way."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, reading something in his expression. "… Danny, please tell me you didn't name it."

"Uh." Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I did. Cujo. Why?"

"Danny, once you name it, you start-- wait." Sam interrupted herself to give Danny a confounded look. "Cujo? As in the Stephen King book?"

"Yeah, that one evil dog from the one story," Danny replied confidently. "Big and mean, right? Seemed like it fit."

It was like Sam was trying to have a staring contest with him. "That's not… you've never even read the book, have you?"

He shrugged. "Details. I know the idea. Dog goes bad, people scream, lesson learned. Good enough."

"Actually, Daniel," a smooth, amused voice drawled from behind them, "Stephen King's Cujo was a tale of tragedy, not evil." The trio whirled around to see Vlad behind them as if he'd been there all along, perfectly poised in his tailored suit, carrying himself with practiced ease. "A good dog undone by circumstance. Rabies, if I recall. Less monstrous, more… unfortunate."

"Vlad?" Danny sounded half-startled, half-exasperated. "Seriously? What are you even doing here?"

"Why, walking, of course." Vlad gave a smooth smile. "Am I not allowed a pleasant stroll in the town I so dearly support with my investments?" His eyes slid over to Sam, who was crossing her arms with narrowed eyes, and Tucker, who was half-hiding behind her. "And you must be Daniel's… companions," he addressed them with a courteous nod. "Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley, if memory serves?"

"Wow," Sam deadpanned. "You know our names. I feel so… special."

"This is, like… way creepier in person," Tucker hissed under his breath.

Vlad just chuckled. "Forgive me. Old habits. One learns to know a great deal about… the people important to those he cares for." There was something off about how he said it, that made Tucker and Sam exchange a wary glance, but Danny just looked torn between embarrassment and annoyance. Before the boy could speak, however, Vlad stepped closer, folding his hands behind his back. "And as for this Cujo… I must say, Daniel, your literary allusions could use brushing up. But! I admire the instinct." He gave a sly smile. "Names have power, after all."

Danny shifted uncomfortably, as if he'd heard something in Vlad's tone that Tucker and Sam hadn't. He tried not to look as small as he suddenly felt, between the gazes of his friends and his mentor.

"Great," Sam muttered to Tucker. "Now he's judging Danny's taste in books, too."

Smiling thinly, Vlad pretended not to hear her. "I'd be delighted to recommend a few proper titles, sometime. Perhaps all three of you could benefit from a richer reading list?"

Realizing Vlad was already slipping into lecture mode, Danny frowned. Now was… not a good time, not a good place. He glanced at his friends, who looked like they'd both rather be anywhere else. There was a beat of awkward silence, before Danny cleared his throat. "… So, uh, Cujo," he tried changing the subject. "Totally destructive. Any advice on that?"

The thin smile widened, and Vlad's eyes glinted. "Why, of course, my boy."

They continued down the sidewalk. Vlad and Danny had taken the lead, Sam and Tucker hanging behind, visibly weirded out. As always, Vlad's tone walked the line between lecture and conversation. The two friends exchanged uneasy "is-this-really-happening" glances as Danny seemed to be listening a little too closely.

"Command comes from posture first, Daniel, and voice second," Vlad was saying mildly, as if Danny was asking for help with a math problem. "If this Cujo returns, don't chase; direct. A moment." Vlad stopped; Danny took that as his cue to stop as well. The man started physically adjusting Danny's posture. "Like this. Shoulders square, hand low, tone even. A dog will read that before it even hears your words."

"He's literally training Danny like a dog," Sam muttered to Tucker as Danny tested the posture, only to have his left shoulder corrected.

Tucker looked concerned. "And Danny's kinda just… going along with it?"

Danny glanced over, having heard. "I'm just… taking notes, alright?" His voice was defensive.

"Notes are admirable." Vlad smiled, not looking at the other two. "Results are better. You want to control the dog, rather than simply discard it as you would any other ghost."

They kept moving, with Vlad continuing to drone on about posture and body language, until they rounded a corner. Ahead was Valerie's house, a fact the trio only knew because they saw her hauling a box out of it onto the yard. A moving van was parked out front with its ramp down; there were some boxes and furniture within, but much more of their belongings were on card tables on the lawn. A large sign read "MOVING SALE CASH ONLY".

They paused, and Vlad paused with them. "Woah," Sam said softly. "Talk about rock bottom."

"That's like… everything," Tucker added. "Man."

Guilt prickled in Danny's mind. "I feel bad," he admitted. Vlad flicked his eyes down at the boy, but did not speak. "If I'd gotten the dog under control earlier…"

Valerie seemed to notice them at that moment. Not bothering to question the forty-year-old with them, she gave a brittle smile that made it clear she was putting up a friendly act in front of the adult. "Well. You lot picked the perfect time to stop by." Her tone dripped sarcasm like venom.

"I heard what happened, Val," Tucker immediately tried his luck, stepping forward. "That's rough and-- uh-- if you ever wanna talk…"

"Great," came the icy reply. "Word's already oozed down to the bottom of the social grapevine."

Danny stepped forward, hands raised placatingly. "Hey, come on. He means it. He actually wants to help. We all do."

"I don't."

Danny chose to ignore Sam's input.

"Most of us do!" Tucker tried cheerfully.

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Right. I'll pass."

He was about to reply when the telltale fine mist of his breath drifted out in a thin curl. Danny looked over his shoulder at Vlad, whose gaze had snapped to Danny, alert. "I'll… have to pass, too," the boy ended up saying. "I gotta run." And he bolted off, turning to hide between Valerie's hedges and her neighbor's wooden fence.

He just knew what Vlad would say to him. Remember: posture, tone. Direct. Do not chase. Still felt like a strange thought, but there wasn't time to care. With a flash of light he really hoped was hidden, Danny went ghost, just in time for the ground to tremble. Cracks spiderwebbed across the pavement, causing the other kids to back away hastily, and the ghost dog-- Cujo-- erupted from the exposed soil in his big form.

The dog's emergence knocked a box labeled "VAL'S CLOTHES" over onto the sidewalk, where it was jostled open by the impact and spilled its contents. Cujo ignored it, sniffing the ground intently. Everyone was focused on the dog, which meant it was safe for Danny to approach in ghost form.

Of course, Valerie noticed him right away. "You!" She shouted. "Whatever you are, get out of here! You and your stupid dog have done enough."

Whatever, ignore her. Danny gave a sharp whistle, then called out. "Cujo! Hey! Eyes on me!" He drifted forward, posture like Vlad had told him-- shoulders squared, hand low. Cujo, attention drawn, looked at him for a few long heartbeats… and then, to his shock, shrank back down to a small puppy, tail wagging furiously. Danny couldn't help but smile at this development.

"Did… that actually work?" Tucker asked, amazed.

"Don't say it," Sam cut in hastily. "You'll jinx--"

She was interrupted as the pup yipped excitedly, spun around, and rocketed toward the spill of Valerie's clothing on the sidewalk. Cujo ran atop them like they weren't there, tracking dirt onto the fabric. He ran a few more feet, stopped, ran back, and grabbed a sleeve in his mouth.

"Of course," Valerie seethed.

"And now, the dog tests boundaries," Vlad commented, observing with hands behind his back.

Danny tried again. "Cujo-- heel. C'mere, buddy. We don't chew-- nope-- hey!"

You're chasing, that inner voice told him. Don't chase. Direct. Easier said than done.

The dog dodged Danny's attempts at retrieval, zipping under a card table and clipping one of its legs, causing it to tip over. There was the sound of something breaking, but it was impossible to tell what it was. And at that moment, Valerie's father rushed out of the house. He stopped dead at the sight of the mess: shredded clothes, broken furniture, a rampaging puppy.

"What-- what is going on out here?!" The man demanded, more bewildered and shocked than angry.

Danny made another attempt to grab Cujo, but the dog darted between his legs, then clamped onto the ankle of his boot and started dragging. The boy skidded across grass and pavement in what seemed like a random direction Cujo had chosen. "Cujo!" He yelled, panicking and absolutely not dignified. "Down! Down! Buddy, c'mon!"

Tucker and Sam started forward as if to help, but clearly weren't sure what to do; Vlad kept watching silently. Cujo continued his trajectory up the ramp into the moving van, slammed into the inside wall, and the impact jostled the door of the van into a closed position. Everyone just watched in shock as the truck rattled and rocked, Danny shouting from inside.

"No! Nice boy! Nice boy! Down-- down boy down boy down boy-- wait!"

There was a screech. From the lawn, Sam flinched, Tucker peeked through his fingers, and Vlad watched impassively.

"You see?" The man's tone was pleasant as he looked at the kids as if nothing was happening. "Remove clear instruction, and chaos rushes in to fill the void."

"He's not some remote-control car, Vlad," Sam glared.

Before the conversation could continue, the ruckus quieted, and Danny phased out of the top of the van, holding Cujo. He hovered there for a moment, looking winded and shaken. "Okay," the boy panted, reaffirming his grip on the squirming puppy. "Okay. We're…" Danny glanced down at the wreckage on the lawn, then down at the van, guilt written in his eyes. "We're leaving now."

"Don't you dare!" Valerie had stepped forward, surprisingly brave in the face of a floating teenager and his hurricane of a dog. Her voice shook more with fury than with fear. "Not after what you--"

But Danny just lifted away, cradling the dog, and jetted off over the street. The van's back door creaked open to show the disaster inside: splintered furniture, shattered glass, torn clothing strewn everywhere. Damon walked forward to assess the wreckage, nudging a crumpled lamp that had fallen out. He spoke in a hollowed voice. "Does this count as fired, or ruined?"

Valerie didn't answer, eyes pinned to the sky where Danny had shrunk to a speck and vanished. She set her jaw, resolve in her eyes. "I'm gonna find out what you are," she murmured. "And you're gonna pay."

Sam and Tucker stood there in shock for a moment before turning uneasily to look at Vlad. The billionaire stood with hands folded, eyes tracked in the same direction as Valerie's, before looking down and meeting their eyes with a thin, inscrutable smile that was somehow more menacing than anything he could say right now.

"Well," he started calmly. "That escalated."

The man offered the teens a courteous nod, as if dismissing himself from a polite conversation, and then strolled away down the sidewalk. Sam glared after him.

"He loves this."

"And Danny's listening to him more than to us," Tucker added.

They both looked at each other to share a worried expression, before redirecting attention to the wreckage. Valerie was already picking up the pieces, dragging a sale sign from a puddle. But her expression wasn't the broken despair of her father's. It was a rigid, burning focus.

Danny had, at least, managed to get the dog back to the Fentonworks lab without further incident, and even without being spotted or heard by his family. The lab was thankfully empty; the portal was closed, there didn't seem to be any in-progress project that a parent would suddenly return to work on, and it was even relatively clean for once. With a breath of relief, he put Cujo down on the metal floor and just stared at him for a moment.

"Okay," he started, mostly to himself, as the ghost pup was busy bounding happily in circles. "Vlad said… control. Not discard. So… let's try this the responsible way." Cujo gave a bark as if in response; then, with wagging tail, he phased halfway through a toolbox and scattered wrenches across the floor. Danny sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sit," he tried. "Stay. … Roll over?"

The dog immediately grew to full size, tail knocking over a rack of beakers as it whipped toward a table. Danny lunged to catch them, but one slipped his grasp and shattered anyway.

"Yeah, great," Danny muttered in frustration, putting the intact beakers on a table. "That's exactly what I meant by that." He looked over as Cujo shrank again, panting happily. The teen crouched to make eye contact with the dog. "Hey. Look at me." Danny's voice was steadier-- an imitation of Vlad's cadence. "I don't want you to wreck the place, okay? Just… listen."

The dog paused, ears perked, head tilted, clearly responding to Danny's focus. For a second it almost seemed to work. Then Cujo yipped excitedly, bolted toward the portal controls, and began pawing at them.

Danny rose from his crouch. "Wait, no, don't--"

The console sparked to life as Cujo's paw found the "ON" switch. The portal opened in a sudden green blaze of light that flooded the room. Danny panicked, scooping up the dog in one arm before he could knock anything important into it.

He ran his hand down his face, glanced at the portal, then sighed and looked at Cujo. "I can't do this right now," he said without anger. "I'm sorry, boy." The pup whined as if confused, licking Danny's arm. He hesitated a beat, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and guilty. "You deserve better than me."

With one more yelp from Cujo, Danny tossed the ghost into the glow of the portal, then hit the "OFF" switch before the dog could get out. The doors clanged shut, and for a long time, Danny stared at them. Shoulders slumped, he looked around at the small mess Cujo had made.

"That's it. I'm getting a goldfish," he finally stated, turning to leave the lab. "Or a plant."

Danny trudged upstairs. He did not see Cujo phase right back out of the closed portal and out of the lab.

School the next day was rough for Valerie. The trio already noticed she was wearing cheaper clothes, and she brought a bag lunch instead of buying cafeteria food (which, admittedly, was usually the safer option anyway, but it was about the status of being able to fork over a few bucks for lunch). The trio watched from their usual table as, after a short conversation they couldn't really hear, Valerie tried to sit down and was blocked by Dash. Hurt and dejected, they watched her shuffle over to an empty table in the corner.

Danny's gaze lingered a few seconds before dropping to his tray, pushing his mashed potatoes around instead of eating. Tucker was already back to his food, tearing chunks off of a drumstick, but Sam watched Danny with concern.

Finally she leaned in. "Hey," she prodded in a low voice. "Don't do that thing where you get stuck in your own head. Cujo's a mess, but it's not like you asked for him to show up."

"I couldn't even keep him under control for an hour," Danny muttered bitterly. "Vlad's right. Maybe I need--"

"Don't finish that sentence," Sam cut him off with a glare. "You're not falling apart just because you can't magically housebreak a ghost dog."

Tucker's attention had turned toward Valerie again, ignoring the argument between his friends. "Hey, silver lining-- she's like us now!" He had a grin that Danny knew all too well. "That means, rebound city."

Sam smacked the boy with a napkin, but Tucker ignored it and zipped over to Valerie's table.

Valerie herself closed her eyes and massaged her temple, biting back the humiliation. "What do you want, Foley?"

"I was thinking," Tucker started with forced nonchalance, "maybe you'd wanna, uh, sit with me-- us." He offered a nervous smile. "You know, strength in numbers!"

The girl glared at him. "I'm already aware of my sudden outcast status, but thanks for reminding me." She looked back down at her food.

Behind her, the glass windows began to tremble. A huge green muzzle phased through-- snarling, dripping with drool. Tucker's eyes widened and he backed away. "Uh, Val…?"

Valerie ignored him right until Cujo snapped at the lunch bag, shaking it and scattering her food everywhere. Students finally noticed and started screaming, running out of the cafeteria; Valerie stumbled back as the giant dog barreled into the building, skidding into Dash's tray and splattering gravy everywhere. Suddenly the cafeteria was chaos.

Sam looked on, staring at the mess. "So much for training him," she stated dryly.

Instead of going to engage the ghost threat, Danny slumped forward and put his head in his hands. "Yeah. Perfect." His voice was muffled. "Not even good enough to keep a dog in the Ghost Zone."

She had a second to be surprised at Danny's defeatism before slapping the table. "Hey," Sam said sharply. "Eyes up. You can sulk later. Right now, people are screaming."

Danny finally lifted his gaze just in time to see Cujo grab the lunch lady by the apron and dangle her in the air. As he saw this, however, he saw something more unexpected-- Vlad was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, silent but watchful. The boy's eyes flicked toward him instinctively, but Vlad didn't say a word-- just waited with an unreadable expression.

He swallowed hard. "Okay," he whispered to himself. "Control. Don't discard." He ducked under the table to make sure the few remaining students wouldn't see him go ghost. There was a flash of light, then he rocketed up toward Cujo, trying to square his posture again like Vlad had taught him. "Easy, boy!" He called, trying to ignore the slight tugging in his left shoulder muscle. "That lady isn't edible." Then, as an afterthought, "And neither is anything she cooks."

Cujo dropped the woman and looked at Danny, panting excitedly.

"... And neither am I!"

The dog pounced for him, but Danny slipped by and grabbed the collar. The two of them phased through the wall back to the outside, leaving the cafeteria wrecked and students shaken. Food was strewn everywhere, a few tables were overturned, but nothing seemed destroyed this time.

Tucker, still standing near Valerie, gave her a nervous grin and a shrug. "Ghosts. What can you do, huh?"

"What? Ghosts?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Then what Tucker actually said finally registered, and her eyes widened. "Oh my god. Ghosts!"

The lunch period had passed, with students filtering out into the halls, some laughing and some chattering about the chaos in the cafeteria. The mood had slowly shifted back to normal-- one thing Casper High was very good at was brushing off sudden disturbances-- but the current of gossip lingered. Valerie, for her part, walked briskly toward her next class with her backpack hugged tight against her chest. Every movement telegraphed simmering fury-- a set jaw, stiff shoulders, precise movements.

"First the top," she growled under her breath. "Then the move. Now my lunch. Stupid freaks…"

She paused at her locker, shaking hand fumbling her combination. Nearby, Star and Paulina glanced at her, then started whispering and giggling. With a sharp exhale, Valerie shoved he locker open a little too hard, sending her books nearly cascading to the floor. She managed to react quickly enough to slam them back in place, teeth clenched.

Down the hall, Danny was at his own locker with Tucker and Sam. He looked exhausted, rubbing his temples while Sam scolded Tucker for being more worried about getting hooked up than the actual ghost attack. Suddenly, Danny glanced over his shoulder, as if sensing something. Nothing. Just the chatter of students and the squeak of lockers. He went back to what he was doing.

Danny hadn't seen anything because Vlad did not want to be seen. Oh, he was still there, of course, but turning invisible while haunting the boy was… lucrative. But he wasn't focused on his pupil this time. No, he was watching Valerie.

Pride wounded, he thought to himself. Security stripped away. Friends fickle, resources scarce. He smiled. And yet, fire still in her eyes.

He tilted his head, ambling closer to the girl for a better look. Vlad couldn't stray too far from a haunted host-- a limitation of the ability. But within a certain range, he could wander freely, regardless of solid objects. It had come in useful already, investigating Fentonworks through Daniel himself. Studying Jack's inventions, improving them, making them better in his own lab.

Valerie Gray, the internal assessment continued. Daughter of that Damon fellow. He watched her slam her locker closed, then keep walking. The man could afford to follow. Daniel's next class was in the same room; the boy was a little slow to get moving, but any interruption would be brief. A raw edge, untempered steel. With proper honing, she could cut deeper than most.

The girl passed a trophy case and paused, catching her own reflection. She stared at herself for a beat.

A girl with nothing left could be given purpose, he supposed, as Valerie frowned at whatever she saw in her reflection. Anger will keep her moving. Pain will shape her into something useful.

Vlad was likely far enough away from Daniel that the boy wouldn't hear him if he spoke, but why take the risk? He watched Valerie press her lips together and square her shoulders. His expression warmed with approval at the small display of resolve as she moved on. He didn't follow.

One to sharpen you, little badger, he thought to himself, turning to look back at the boy in question. Daniel had dropped a textbook and was crouching to pick it up. One to test you. The mask of the charming mentor slipped briefly to be replaced with cold calculation. Vlad looked between the boy he was shaping and the girl he'd now marked as a tool, balancing them in his mind like chess pieces. A contingency, should you… disappoint me.

Calling the apartment modest would be an understatement. Paint peeled slightly off the walls, the ceiling had water damage, and what furniture they were able to salvage still wasn't in the best shape. Packed boxes stacked in the corners with no room to put their contents; it was a stark contrast to the luxe life Valerie was used to.

Still, it was a place to sleep, and for now, it was home.

Damon adjusted his tie nervously as he looked out the window at the city. They were in Elmerton, a suburb next to Amity Park, and it didn't have the best reputation, but it was cheap. "Great news, sweetheart!" He started, voice a mix of relief and strain. "I convinced them to let me guard what's left of the research lab while they rebuild. One last chance."

"That's great!" Valerie replied. "How many of your employees can you put on it?"

"I… don't have employees anymore." Damon's tone was flat. "It's just me. Alone. At night. In that." He pointed to the rent-a-cop-style security uniform hanging by the door.

Valerie frowned, a little bitter, but raised her chin and folded her arms to mask the worry. "Nice." She couldn't keep the sarcasm out, though. "If things get worse, you can always use it to deliver packages."

If Damon caught the bite, he didn't show it. "Which reminds me!" He reached over to the side and grabbed a large box. "This came while you were at school. From Wisconsin, I think?" Handing the box to his daughter, Damon quickly kissed her cheek. "Anyway-- don't want to be late. Bye, sweetie!"

She was left staring at the box as her father rushed out the door. Indeed, it was addressed specifically to her-- even her current address, and they hadn't even finished filling out the paperwork for that. "Wisconsin?" She murmured, somewhat suspicious at who would know so quickly about the move. "I don't know anyone in Wisconsin…" Curiosity won out over suspicion, though, and she ripped it open. Inside was a sleek black case with a logo she didn't recognize-- a capital V over a globe. There was a note tucked nearly to the side.

Valerie--

You've been wronged. Stripped of respect, of security, of friends. But you need not stay powerless. You deserve strength. Purpose. With this, you can claim it.

-- VLAD

Valerie stared at the neat, tidy scrawl for a moment. Her hand trembled slightly as she lowered the note. She swallowed hard, then opened the case. Silver and red-pink technology gleamed back at her, and on the top was something that looked suspiciously like a high-tech gun. Her eyes widened-- then narrowed with resolve as she picked it up and gripped it firmly.

"Whoever you are, Vlad…" she whispered under her breath, "you get it. You actually get it."

Valerie tightened her hand as if testing the grip, and her finger brushed the trigger-- and the weapon discharged what looked like pink lightning with a sharp, crackling pulse, scorching a mark on the wall.

"Valerie?!" came her dad's panicked voice from the hall outside.

"I'm okay!" She called back, then looked at the smoking weapon in her hands. It took a moment for her heart to stop hammering at the surprise, but that gave her time to realize what was happening. A dangerous smile crossed her lips.

The local park was a large one-- probably what gave Amity Park its name, in fact. A couple of hilltops ringed by a copse of trees here and there; the terrain grew uneven and annoying to traverse, and so people didn't often stray too close. A few kids might play in the trees, pretending they were wilderness explorers, and maybe a couple would come to the hills for a quiet picnic, but today the area was left alone.

It was thus the perfect place for Danny to at least attempt to train Cujo without the dog's rampages causing a risk to people and property. He stood on one hilltop, watching Cujo romp around gleefully in puppy form, while Sam sat on a stump with a dog training manual. Tucker wasn't around, at home dealing with something his mom had plopped on him suddenly. Danny, for his part, was already in ghost form, in case he had to deal with another dog-driven adventure.

"I'm telling you, he won't leave me alone," Danny was saying, half frustrated and half dejected. "I toss him into the Ghost Zone, he just digs his way out through the portal and comes back to me."

"Well, you're the only other ghost in the area," Sam posited flatly as she stood up. "He's probably looking for one of his own. So train him. Ghost dog or not, he's still a dog." She tossed the book at him; Danny didn't bother to dodge, just letting it phase through his body. "Good luck."

She started to walk away, and Danny blinked after her, somewhat indignant. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Hello?" Sam gestured to him as if it was obvious. "I can't be seen hanging out with Amity Park's resident ghost kid." She turned to go, tossing a wave over her shoulder. "Try not to blow your cover, genius."

He glared after her for a few seconds before sighing and bending down to pick up the book she'd thrown at him. "Thanks. Real supportive," Danny grumbled as he thumbed through pages. "A dog's hearing is much more acute than a human's. Okay, so…"

Danny turned to see where Cujo was-- near the edge of the treeline-- and sent a sharp whistle through his middle and ring fingers. He saw the dog perk up and canter toward him, tail whipping.

Another glance to the page, then Danny held out his palm. "Stop." His voice was firm, and Cujo immediately braked, skidding to a halt at Danny's feet. The boy blinked. "Huh. That was easy. Are you already trained?"

Cujo responded by pouncing on Danny, knocking him flat. He sputtered and half-laughed as the pup licked his face. "I'll take that as a 'sort of'." Danny sat up, put Cujo down, and wiped the ectoplasmic drool off of his jumpsuit. He held out his hand again, this time pointing down, and echoed Vlad's cadence again. "Sit."

There was a beat of hesitation, but Cujo actually obeyed this time. Danny's eyes widened; for a moment, pride flickered across his face. This could actually work.

"Yes!" He crowed to himself. "See? Control, not discard. I can so do this--"

Before he could finish that thought, something screamed toward them from the air. Operating on pure instinctive reflex, Danny snatched Cujo into his arms and rolled away, apparently just in time-- an explosion sounded where they'd just been. Danny used a foot to brace against the ground so he'd stop rolling down the hill. "What the--?"

A roar like a jet plane rose overhead. Danny looked up-- a person standing on a silver-and-red hoverboard, clad in red armor with a visor that hid their face from this distance. The most concerning thing was that whoever it was had a weapon pointed at him-- vaguely reminiscent of his parents' currently-prototype Fenton Foamer, but with pink accents instead of green.

He only had time to ponder this because the person wobbled slightly, struggling to maintain balance on the board, clearly inexperienced with it. "Woah--!" The person wavered, clearly a female voice. The voice was strikingly familiar, but Danny didn't have time to ponder that, too. She found her footing as Danny was scrambling to his feet. "Okay, that's more like it."

She fired another missile from her weapon, but Danny was ready this time. He shot into the air with Cujo still in his arms, then dove toward the trees, outspeeding the inexperienced attacker. Briefly taking cover behind a tree, he set the dog down. "Stay," he ordered, then returned to engaging this new threat.

The girl was already on his tail as he rose into the sky again. This time, blasts of pink plasma were fired from a smaller weapon, and their aim was off-- enough for Danny to evade them without too much effort. He dove for another stand of trees, knowing -- and banking on-- the girl would follow. Danny phased effortlessly through a trunk, and heard the rather satisfying thud that told him his pursuer had crashed into it.

The boy floated around the tree to check on her, only to see pink buzzsaws flying-- … just slightly off from his position. "Huh. First day with the new weapons?" He asked, half-mocking and half-genuine, before one of the spinning blades bounced off of a nearby rock and ricocheted into his arm. Danny quickly withdrew with a yelp at the sting of the contact. "Hey!" He snapped. "That hurt!" Then he blinked, realizing. "Wait. That hurt?" He wasn't used to real world weapons hurting him in his ghost form. But there it was; the telltale green fluid leaking from his arm that told him that he had an injury.

A chill ran through him-- not from the wound, but from the shock. Human weapons weren't supposed to do this. Not to him.

"Don't worry, ghost kid," the girl drawled, leveling her weapon at him. Something told Danny this one wouldn't miss. "It won't hurt long. Because you are going down!"

Panic flared in Danny's mind as she fired, and his reflexes were just off-- he braced, knowing he couldn't dodge in time, when he heard heavy footsteps rapidly approaching him. Before he knew it, he was being carried away in Cujo's jaws, with the dog having turned big to yank him out of the way. They tumbled down the rest of the hill into a mess of trees and rocks, and Cujo lost his grip on Danny. The boy slammed against a trunk, nursing his wounded arm, breath ragged.

He heard Sam hiss from nearby. "Danny!" She sounded horrified.

No time. The girl with the weapons swooped overhead, circling, trying to get a clearer view of him. Danny forced himself upright, teeth clenched against the pain. Holding out one hand, Danny raised a shield-- small, but it covered both him and Cujo. The dog growled, standing between him and the attacker, as if protecting him.

"This isn't working," Danny muttered to himself as his shield flickered from strain, but held. "I'm screwing it all up."

But then he remembered Vlad's firm voice: Steady. Do not falter. With an exhale, Danny shook his head, forcing composure. He staggered hack into a fighting stance.

The girl circled again, and seemed to find a good angle, because she fired three rapid bursts. Danny's shield held for the first two-- but fizzled after the third. Taking advantage, she threw more buzzsaws at him before flying in for closer quarters. He turned to try to flee-- and one of the blades sliced into his back, shredding through the jumpsuit and sending him sprawling with a yell. Danny bit back a groan, forcing himself back up.

"That… really stings," he muttered to himself, strained.

The girl hovered closer. "Not so tough now, are you?" She taunted. "I don't care if you're a ghost, a freak, whatever-- you're done!"

The cannon leveled again. Danny glanced around to find Cujo, who was still resolutely by his side, snarling. An impulse flashed through his mind, and he grabbed the collar in a flash of half-formed instinct.

"Mush!" Danny blurted suddenly.

He expected to be ignored, but Cujo instantly surged toward the treeline, Danny clinging to his collar before managing to clamber up onto the dog's back. Wind tore through his hair at the sheer speed, and then Danny gave a laugh of disbelief. "No way. I can't believe that actually worked!"

The girl was firing again, blasts narrowly missing as Cujo bounded across what little open space there was. Sam emerged from cover just ahead; the dog veered toward her, as if on instinct. Danny extended one hand, snatching Sam by the wrist mid-pass and pulling her onto Cujo's back behind him.

"Danny, what are you--"

"No time! Hang on!"

The girl gave chase, but Cujo's speed outpaced the hoverboard. They heard her cursing, taking potshots that exploded harmlessly far behind him. Danny kept low over Cujo's neck, clutching the collar and grimacing through the pain. Sam glanced back at the figure shrinking behind them.

"Get back here!" was the last thing they heard.

"That… sounded like Valerie?" Sam mused.

Danny didn't answer. He was too focused on staying upright. But his expression flickered-- determination, disbelief, and the gnawing thought that he almost lost again.

Sam's room was dim except for the soft glow of a desk lamp; her large window had been covered by blackout drapes. Posters of metal bands and protest slogans plastered the walls, and the girl's gigantic bed was buried under black sheets. A sleek, leather-bound first aid kit was open on the comforter, its contents laid out like a battlefield arsenal-- gauze, antiseptic, medical tape, bandages.

Danny sat on a towel on the edge of the bed (Sam had wanted to avoid having to explain ectoplasm on her sheets; a towel could be thrown away). He was back in human form; since he healed injuries so quickly now, he thought morphing might close it up, but apparently this one was so deep that all it did was cause red human blood to mix in with the green ectoplasm that had already dripped down his back. His shirt had been taken off; thankfully it displayed no damage, but he'd have to do laundry privately at some point.

Tucker winced, fumbling with the antiseptic. "Green blood, red blood," he muttered in mild panic. "This is so far above my pay grade."

"It's called bleeding," Sam retorted flatly, focused on cleaning the blood in question. "Hold him still."

She swabbed across the wound and Danny hissed in pain. Tucker flinched in sympathy, but kept holding Danny's shoulders steady.

"Why did we even come here?" Danny hissed through gritted teeth.

Sam didn't even pause. "Because my family's rich and we've got like three first aid kits in every room."

"And because a hospital would mean some… awkward questions about the glowing green goo," Tucker added.

"Fair," Danny conceded. "Still hurts."

"Dead guys don't complain, so congrats! You're still alive."

Danny snorted at Sam's quip despite himself. The first aid continued in silence for a bit… then Sam paused. He felt her lean closer.

"... These aren't from her weapon," she muttered, sounding unsettled.

He grimaced. "What are you talking about? It hit me, I felt it--"

"I know what a cut looks like, Danny," Sam interrupted sharply. "This-- this is different." She looked at Tucker and pointed to Danny's shoulder. "Look."

Tucker hesitated, but leaned around Danny to look-- and blinked. A faint red marking, dark against Danny's pale skin, branched outward like a frozen lightning bolt. It webbed across his skin, starting with a massive starburst on the back of his left shoulder, sprawling out over his upper back and tracing down his spine.

"Woah," Tucker whispered. "It's like… a tree, or--"

"-- or a lightning bolt," Sam finished, voice heavy. "It's called a Lichtenberg scar. From high-voltage electricity. And it's old."

Danny's breath caught. He twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at, but he couldn't see it. Instead he looked at their faces, searching, confused. "Wait, you're saying this has been there? Since when?"

Sam exchanged a long look with Tucker before answering. "Since… since the accident, Danny," she finally said, gently. "When the portal fried you."

Silence dropped over the room, heavy. Danny stared down at the floor, then almost absently looked at the palm of his left hand. It was nearly invisible now, but someone who knew what to look for would see it-- the faint, shiny patch of skin that was all that was left of the burn scar he'd gotten from pressing the button on the portal. He was silent for a moment, as Sam hesitantly went back to cleaning the wound. When he finally spoke again, his voice was small, uncertain.

"How…" He started, before soldiering on, "How big is it?"

Sam paused, then put her index finger on the starburst. "It starts up here. It kind of branches everywhere, but--" She traced her finger down the main line of the scar. It went almost straight down his spine, ending at the small of his back. "-- it goes over here."

Danny was quiet again, wheels turning. "I… didn't even notice."

"Guess dying'll do that to you," Tucker tried to joke, but Danny flinched at the word. Sam shot a glare at him before softening as she looked back at Danny.

Science was the one thing Danny had always excelled at in school. The exact branch didn't usually matter. Biology was a little flaky, but things like physics and especially astronomy had always been a strong suit despite his poor math grades. What he did know told him one very important thing: there was no way he'd survived electrocution that spread that far over his spine. He hadn't gotten lucky.

"That means I… died," Danny finally said. "I actually died."

"It means you just came back different," Sam put in firmly. "Your body remembers it. That's all."

It was clearly meant to comfort him. It didn't. Danny tried to angle his arm to trace the scar-- he felt nothing, just smooth skin. After a moment he gave up, sitting quietly with hands in his lap. The realization sat heavily; he wasn't just a boy in costume, there was a physical marker that Daniel Fenton really did die in that lab. For once, nobody had a joke ready.

"So…" He started quietly as Sam taped some gauze bandages into place, "what does that even make me?" Danny stared at the carpet, throat feeling tight. His friends looked at him. "I mean, if my heart stopped-- if I really… really died…" The boy cut himself off, clenching his jaw. "Am I still… even me?"

"You're you, Danny," came Sam's steady reply. "That hasn't changed."

Tucker nodded, though he still seemed rattled. "Yeah, man. You're still the same guy who geeks out about space and hogs the fries."

"But what if I'm not?" Danny's voice wavered. "What if I'm just… something else wearing my face?"

Sam stood up to walk around to Danny's front, where she crouched and looked him in the eye. "If that was true, would you even care enough to ask that question?" She asked firmly.

Danny blinked. Something about the way she asked that was grounding, anchoring. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and he let out a long breath, some of the panic melting into weariness.

"Plus, come on," Tucker cut in lightly, "if a ghost was pretending to be you, it would at least have better grades."

That earned a startled half-laugh, a snort despite himself. A smile cracked across Danny's lips. "Wow. Thanks, Tuck. That's real comforting."

Sam smirked, straightening. "Yeah, next time you want to angst about your existence, maybe pick a better audience."

Danny chuckled, running a hand over his face. The heaviness wasn't gone, but it was softened by the warmth of his friends, patching him up both physically and emotionally. It dulled the sharp edge of panic, even if the questions still floated in his mind. But Sam was right; if Danny wanted to get into the gritty, existential questions, there was only one man on Earth that could understand them.

The lot was half-empty, silent but for the faint buzz of a crooked streetlamp. The concrete here was cracked, with weeds pushing up between the slabs. A chain-link fence bordered one side, its gate hanging on a rusted hinge; the entire place felt forgotten and dead. It wasn't the most pristine part of town, but it was quiet, abandoned, unlikely for anyone to interrupt except for maybe a stray cat.

Danny stood in the middle of it, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. He had a hoodie nearby, tossed on the top of a garbage can, but the late May air was too warm and humid even at night to comfortably wear it. He kicked the ground with scuffed sneakers. Though he carried a restless energy, he looked drained. The boy glanced around, almost regretting agreeing to be here at all.

A voice rose smoothly from the shadows, carrying an amused calm. "You're slouching, Daniel," Vlad commented, approaching. "Even exhaustion is no excuse for such poor posture."

Danny flinched, then stiffened with a frown as he watched Vlad emerge from between the beams of an old loading bay. The man had flitted into his presence earlier at Fentonworks, summoning him to this abandoned lot for training; Danny had ghosted out through the wall without delay, leaving his door locked for some plausible deniability should his parents call for him.

Now, though, the man was perfectly at ease, his tailored suit untouched by the dirt and rust of the environment, as if grime could never cling to him. Vlad was unhurried and deliberate in his stride, his expression all polite warmth with something sharper and darker under the surface.

"You just… show up everywhere, don't you?" Danny's voice was flat; he was used to Vlad's antics by now.

"And yet," Vlad replied pleasantly, "somehow, never soon enough."

The man stopped a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back. Danny dropped his eyes again to look at the weeds stretching out from a nearby crack. The silence between them stretched as Vlad studied him, like a chess master eyeing a piece not yet moved.

"You've been reckless, Daniel," Vlad finally continued, the pleasant tone masking smugness. "Close calls with the girl, the dog, even your family. Tonight, we tighten the basics."

Danny didn't argue. With a resigned exhale, he went ghost and hovered a few inches above the asphalt. His posture didn't improve much.

Vlad seemed to notice. "Up," he corrected sharply. "Hover. Control your balance."

The boy rose, but the motion wasn't clean. His shoulders were uneven, his left dipping; at least now he knew why. Vlad watched for a moment, then impatiently made a cutting motion with his hand.

"Stop. Again. Reset." The voice struck out like a drill commander's. "Your left shoulder always dips. This time, core steady, spine even."

Danny let out a groan, but obeyed, pulling himself down to straighten and try again. If he couldn't even get a basic hover down then maybe he really did need this training. He steadied himself this time, still tense but less crooked.

"Better," Vlad commented, though there wasn't praise behind it this time. "You are fighting yourself when you should be directing. Flight is not a sprint; it is posture, pressure, balance. Now. Forward, slow."

Danny glided forward; Vlad motioned for him to turn, but he overcorrected and clipped the edge of an empty crate. Startled, Danny wobbled and dropped a foot lower, before catching himself. Vlad raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Sloppy," the man said flatly. "Your enemies will not wait for you to catch yourself. Again."

Danny gritted his teeth, but repeated the movement. This time it was smoother, and he hovered back in front of Vlad. Somehow this was exerting him; he knew it shouldn't.

"Good," Vlad interrupted whatever train of thought Danny was about to follow. "Now. Basic offense." He gestured toward a nearby half-dead tree. "Controlled."

Still hovering, Danny threw an ecto-blast; it sailed wide, scorching a mark on the pavement. Danny winced; Vlad simply gestured curtly.

"Tighten. Direct. Again."

He fired another; closer, still a miss.

"Again."

The third hit its mark, leaving a smoking scar across the bark of the tree. Vlad gave a faint nod.

"That is control," he said in his usual lecturing tone, not warm but not as cold. "Do not waste energy in display. Every shot has a purpose."

Danny lowered his hand with a nervous swallow, trying not to look too gratified at the rare approval. Vlad let the silence stretch for a moment, watching his pupil sharply, before stepping back and folding his hands.

"We will train the fundamentals until they become instinct," Vlad drawled. "You clearly need it. For now, we'll move on." A pause. "Split your focus. Attempt duplication."

The boy's expression fell. He'd barely gotten the basics under control; splitting himself felt impossible. But Vlad continued watching him, expectant. With a groan, Danny tried to concentrate, straining until his usual ambient glow flared out and flickered. Something formed halfway beside him, before collapsing into mist. Danny stopped trying, breathing hard, discouraged.

"I can't keep it stable," he said with quiet frustration.

"Because you're distracted," Vlad put in sharply. "Your mind is elsewhere."

Danny hesitated, wondering if he should bring it up. Vlad was the only other person on the planet who might have a chance at understanding this particular issue. Finally he sighed and landed in front of his mentor, eyes cast down and to the side.

"There's… something I want to ask," he said quietly.

At Vlad's raised eyebrow, Danny partly unzipped the front of his jumpsuit, shrugging it off just enough to expose his back. He craned his neck to try to spot it again, and once again failed. A little embarrassed, he looked at Vlad.

"I've got this… scar," Danny started to explain. "Back of my shoulder. I didn't even know it was there until Sam and Tuck patched me up." He paused. "It… it's not from a fight. They said it's from… from that night. The accident."

Something like sympathy flickered across Vlad's expression before smoothing over, and he stepped closer, around Danny, examining the boy's back.

"Ah." was the first thing he said, which wasn't terribly helpful. "A Lichtenberg mark. The signature of electrocution." A short span of silence. "Are you aware that it's glowing?"

"I-- what?"

"I'll take that as a no," Vlad chuckled, tone mild. "It likely doesn't do so in your human form. But right now, yes, there is a soft green glow under the mark, possibly ectoplasmic."

Danny blinked as Vlad straightened up and walked back to his front. Great, not only did he have a massive lightning bolt scar on his back, but it glowed in his ghost form. Like he needed to feel like even more of a freak.

"I had scars from my death, as well," Vlad continued as if that wasn't a ridiculous statement out of context. "I had them… corrected, in time. They were far harder to hide than yours is."

Danny tensed, looking back at the ground as he pulled his jumpsuit back up. "So it's true, then," he commented quietly. "I really… died."

There was a beat of silence while Vlad studied him, before resting a steadying hand on Danny's shoulder. "And yet, you breathe." His tone was firm but soft. "Your heart beats. Your blood flows. Do you feel hunger? Fatigue? Pain?" A pause. "Then you are alive, Daniel. Changed, yes-- but alive."

Danny gulped, trying to take it in. They'd already had a conversation like this, and he'd been told the same thing. His fists clenched at his sides. "But Cujo--" he started to argue, "he just… keeps coming back to me. Like I'm one of them, like I'm not alive." Sam had told Danny he was the other ghost in the area, that Cujo was probably looking for one of his own. The thought bothered him more than he'd have liked to admit.

"Dogs are instinctive creatures," Vlad spoke carefully even with the thread of amusement in his voice. "That one isn't seeking you because you're a ghost, but because you smell familiar. Electricity, ectoplasm, command." He paused to tap Danny's shoulder with a finger. "Think like a ghost, Daniel. Predict what it wants, and you'll control it."

Half reassured and half unsettled, Danny exhaled shakily, before looking at Vlad and giving an uncertain nod. Vlad patted his shoulder briskly, as if dismissing the tension, and withdrew.

"Now," the man continued smoothly, as if the conversation hadn't happened. "Again. This time, clear your head." Even with the confident, instructive posture, Vlad looked over his shoulder at Danny, something soft in his expression. "That scar is nothing more than proof of what you've survived." The moment was gone quickly, and he returned to briskness. "Now. Duplicate."

Danny steeled himself, trying to take Vlad's advice and put the situation out of mind. He tried again-- still nothing, still faltering, but maybe he'd get better. Maybe if he could duplicate he'd see the scar for himself. The boy resolved to push through and get this down, as Vlad watched intently-- mentor and something Danny had no word for.

School the next day was more tiring than usual, probably because Danny was still sore from the day before-- the fight with Valerie, the injury, dealing with Cujo, the drills Vlad put him through. He had told Tucker and Sam about that last one, and now he regretted it, because they were grilling him as the trio moved through the hallways between classes. Danny was hunched, trying not to show his visible exhaustion and hesitation.

"So let me get this straight," Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Vlad just… shows up at your house now? Like, knocks on the door like he's picking you up for soccer practice?"

The thing he hadn't told them was how Vlad had approached him-- through haunting (or maybe in person, he couldn't tell with Vlad in town) and simply informing Danny of where to meet him. It was easier to lie. "Yeah, pretty much," Danny said flatly, guardedly. "He's got business with Axion, so he's in town."

"More like business with you," Sam sounded skeptical. "He's not exactly subtle."

Maybe he shouldn't have told them about the training session at all. Danny didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes. He watched the floor resolutely as they walked.

Sam softened a little, nudging his arm. "Hey," she said softly. "You're not his project. Don't let him get in your head."

Danny's expression flickered, a little too raw. The words "I know" stuck behind his teeth, but Vlad's sharp corrections still echoed like a second pulse in his brain. Before he could decide on a reply, though, they turned a corner-- and Tucker collided straight into Valerie, sending her books scattering everywhere.

"-- Valerie!" Tucker blurted, looking like he was panicking a little. "Hi!"

Valerie didn't look terribly pleased, but Tucker scrambled to help her retrieve the books. The other two exchanged a look and stepped back for room, but didn't leave. As Tucker straightened with the books in hand, he glanced at the titles and paused.

"Ghost Hunter's Almanac?" He read aloud. "Ghost Killing For Dimwits? Uh. New hobby?"

The girl snatched her books away from him, eyes sharp. "Not a hobby. They ruined my life." She started to turn away.

"I, uh, I mean-- I may know a thing or two about ghosts!" Tucker started after her. "You'd be surprised--"

"Please," Valerie replied flatly. "I'm broke, not stupid."

"Seriously!" Tucker persisted. "Did you know Danny's parents are professional ghost hunters?"

Great.

That made Valerie stop in her tracks, shoulders stiff. "No, I didn't know that." She turned, all flirty charm, fluttering her eyes at the boy. "And here I thought you were just another geek!" Her tone had suddenly become sweet in a way that reminded Danny uncomfortably of Spectra. "Hey, Tucker, want to carry my books for me?"

Tucker beamed, taking the stack of books and clutching it to his chest like a prize before happily following Valerie down the hall. Sam seemed unimpressed, but Danny was just tired.

"Perfect," he sighed, rubbing his face. "My best friend has a crush on a ghost hunter. Thats exactly what I needed this week."

"That's life," Sam remarked dryly. "Well, your life, anyway. Come on, let's follow lover-boy before we're late to class."

The two followed from a distance. Sam shot an occasional look at Danny's expression-- guarded, tired-- which he ignored. Ahead, they could see Valerie turning on the "popular girl charm" with Tucker falling for it pretty much as easily as Danny had fallen for Paulina's back in March. Yeah, this wasn't going to end well.

The gym bleachers were crowded as Casper High held a low-stakes basketball game between its own students. The air smelled like floor polish and sweat, the ball had careened toward the stands more than once, and the sharp whistle of the referee calling fouls was starting to give Danny tinnitus. He and Sam sat near the edge of one of the rows, waiting for Tucker; Danny's hands were clenched and he bounced his knee with nervous energy.

Sam noticed. "Danny, will you relax?" She hissed.

"How can I relax?" The boy shot back. "Cujo could be anywhere. And…" He lowered his voice. "I still don't know how Valerie became a ghost hunter."

"Maybe she stole some of your parents' stuff?" Sam offered, watching the game below as Dash passed the ball to Wes. "Kinda looked like Fenton tech."

"No, it was pink, not green," Danny reminded her. There was a cheer as someone scored. "Besides, she didn't know my parents were ghost hunters until Tucker told her."

As if on cue, Tucker appeared at the end of the row, Valerie in tow. "Hey, guys, can we join you?" Tucker beamed, and sat down without waiting for a response.

"No!" Danny and Sam said in unison. Valerie faltered, hurt flickering across her face.

"Oh, of course we can," Tucker plowed ahead, oblivious to the tension.

Valerie finally sat, and eyed Danny immediately. "So," she started, trying to sound casual, "Tucker tells me your parents hunt ghosts!"

"Did he now?" Danny asked, barely masking the sarcasm as he glared at Tucker. "What else did he tell you?"

Nobody had time to reply-- though Tucker did give a small smile and a shrug-- because just then, a loud bark echoed through the gym. The hardwood floor rattled, making Dash miss his shot. And then the cracks appeared in the ground, and students screamed as Cujo phased into sight-- tail whipping, eyes glowing, growling.

Chaos erupted.

Students scattered and Danny saw Valerie slip out of sight in his peripheral. In the mayhem, Danny just dropped below his row out of sight to go ghost with a flash before floating over to the massive dog. Cujo planted his paws center-court and began sniffing at the wood, then pawing at it, whining.

Danny floated closer. "Cujo…" He whispered. "What are you looking for?"

The dog brightened immediately, before shrinking down again and continuing to frantically try to dig on the spot. Danny landed and knelt beside him.

"… Sam and Vlad are right," he decided. "Ghost or not, you're still a dog, and you're looking for something."

A sudden blast of pink energy shot toward the two, and once again Danny's reflexes had him grab Cujo and roll out of the way, but this time a glancing hit knocked them sprawling. Both were thrown back by the impact, and Valerie hovered into view on her board, weapon trained on them.

"Say goodbye, ghost boy!" She sounded firmer, more confident. She raised what looked like a Fenton Thermos in all but color, twisting the cap… which stubbornly remained closed. Valerie snarled, struggling to loosen the cap. "Oh, come on, you stupid thermos!" A thin thread of panic clung to her frustration.

Up in the bleachers, Sam and Tucker watched the scene, eyes wide. Sam glared at Tucker. "News flash!" She snapped. "Your 'girlfriend' is about to roast Danny!"

Tucker had a huge grin on his face despite the panic. "She really is hunting ghosts now? That's awesome!" He exclaimed, rushing forward. "Hey Valerie, wait up--" And then he tripped on a row of seats, tumbling forward and knocking into the girl, sending both tumbling across the court. "Great outfit…" He offered, dazed.

Distraction in chaos. Danny seized the opportunity and swooped in, grabbing Valerie by the shoulders and flying up to a basketball hoop, wedging her inside. The girl thrashed, outraged.

"You should be safe here until help comes," Danny told her flatly, already tired of this.

"Get me down!" Valerie yelled back, ignoring him. "Get me down so I can destroy you for what you did!"

He ignored her. Diving down again, Danny grabbed Cujo by the scruff and turned intangible. The ghost dog barked happily as the two phased through the wall, escaping the chaos inside the gym.

Danny had managed to get the dog away from the school for a bit, mostly so he could get back to class without raising any suspicion. Plus, his next class was biology. He'd always liked science, and today was a lab day, so he could talk to Sam and Tucker about what was happening. When they got to their lab table, though, Tucker played with an empty beaker more than he did any actual work, and Danny himself was restless.

"Tucker, you can't still like her," Danny remarked flatly, squeezing a pipette of something clear into a different beaker. They were doing something with cell samples and solvents today instead of dissecting a frog or something, which at least kept Sam involved.

"Why not?" Tucker challenged. "For once, a girl I like likes me back. Why can't you just roll with that?"

"Because she keeps trying to shoot me?"

"Not everyone has to like you, Danny."

"There's starch in this sample," Sam said suddenly from beside them, holding the beaker in one hand (which now had a blue liquid in it) and a vial of something brown in the other. Danny hurried to scribble down what sample they'd used.

"Don't you trust me?" Tucker pressed.

"You, yes," Danny replied without looking up from the notes. "It's your hormones I worry about." Okay, so that wasn't entirely true. He'd had a hard time fully trusting either of them-- anyone, even-- almost since the accident.

Danny glanced sideways at Valerie, who was working at her own lab table. Or she would have been, if she wasn't giving Tucker a practiced, flirty smile. Tucker melted; Danny groaned.

"Oh, this is so gonna end well," Sam grimaced.

Before Danny could quip back at her, his ghost sense puffed out into the air. He stiffened; at the same time, faint barking echoed from somewhere nearby. Valerie had clearly heard it too, because she frowned and shot her hand up in the air.

"May I be excused?"

The teacher waved her off without even looking, and Valerie gathered her stuff and bolted out with a clatter of her glassware hitting the table.

"Great," Danny muttered. He couldn't pull the same trick without looking suspicious. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, Danny ducked under the lab counter, turning intangible to phase down through the floor unseen.

Sam rolled her eyes, flicking the empty pipette. "Sure. Just ditch lab. Totally normal."

Danny was already in ghost form by the time he phased out of the ground and into the school courtyard. Cujo was already there, of course, pawing at the ground and snarling as students scattered in panic. Valerie wasn't anywhere in sight yet, thankfully, but he still didn't know how much time he had before she showed up.

Better get him under control fast, Danny thought, before giving a sharp whistle to get Cujo's attention. The dog stopped trying to dig and looked at Danny, panting and wagging his tail.

"This is getting ridiculous," he murmured, forming a ball of ectoplasm in his hand. "Vlad makes it sound so easy. Okay. Okay, boy. Focus. Fetch!" And Danny threw the ecto-ball away from the school. Cujo's ears perked and he tore off after it. The boy sighed in relief and rocketed after him, muttering to himself.

"Skip school for ghost dog obedience training. Sure. Why not."

Danny flew low over the street as the dog bounded ahead, through residential neighborhoods and the park. The ball faded, but Cujo didn't stop-- he kept running, ears perked, tail wagging with purpose. The boy frowned, confused.

"You're not… fetching, are you?" He asked, moving up alongside the dog. "You're tracking."

After what had to be ten minutes, Cujo finally slowed, nose to the ground. Danny didn't have time to question it before the dog whined, then started to bolt again.

"Where are you even taking me…?"

The ball had long since fizzled, but Cujo kept running. Danny started recognizing where they were after a while-- they were at the edge of town, close to Elmerton, and that huge lab facility crested over manicured trees and a barbed-wire fence. They were back at Axion? Blinking, Danny examined the building and widened his eyes as he realized the company logo was the same as the one on Cujo's collar.

The dog finally went small again, barked a few times, and raked his claws at the bottom of the outer wall. Danny hovered a moment, confused. "Cujo, stop," he whispered. "What are you even…?"

Cujo ignored him, pawing at the concrete and whining. Danny frowned, glancing up again. He pet the dog's head absently, realization dawning.

"You're not just attacking randomly," he realized softly. "You're… looking for something. And it's in there."

Barking as if in response, Cujo started sniffing around in a circle before darting to a grate at the corner of the building. Looked like a storm drain. But the dog pawed relentlessly at it and Danny knelt, picking him up and holding him by the collar.

"Hey, hey, easy," he tried to soothe the dog. "Don't tear yourself up on this junk."

Cujo whined, ears drooping, but still trying to strain toward the building. Danny sighed, rubbing his face, feeling conflicted. "I keep trying to train you," he mused, almost to himself, "but I don't even know what you want. Maybe Vlad was right. Control, not discard…" He put the dog down. "But I can't even manage that."

Instead of bolting for the building again, Cujo pressed against Danny's leg like a normal dog might. Danny blinked, startled at the sudden affection. But before he could react beyond that, the clank of a security gate closing echoed nearby. The boy stiffened, grabbing Cujo close and clamping a hand over the dog's muzzle. Both of them turned invisible just as footsteps approached.

Valerie's dad and his boss walked around the corner. "I appreciate the second chance, sir," the former was saying.

"As long as nothing else happens, we'll see about reinstating your contract," the boss replied in a long-suffering tone that reminded Danny of Vlad. "Knew we never should have gotten rid of those guard dogs…"

Danny watched them pass, heart pounding, but slowly realizing something. Cujo whined, muffled against his hand. "Guard dogs?" The boy muttered, glancing down at the pup he held. "Were you a guard dog? Did you leave something behind?" He chose not to dwell on the implications of this puppy having been a guard dog that Axion had "gotten rid" of. He'd had enough existential dread this week.

He tightened his grip on Cujo, weighing his next move as the dog squirmed to get free. As if to soothe him, Danny stroked the pup's head, watching the front of the fortified lab.

"Whatever you're after in there…" Danny started, looking down at Cujo again, "I don't know if I can keep you from it forever. So I may as well help you get it."

The men disappeared inside, and Danny loosened his grip. Cujo immediately sniffed the air again, pawing at the pavement, determined. Danny watched for a moment, uneasy, knowing he'd have to go inside with the dog to find… whatever it was he'd left.

The three of then crouched on a nearby hilltop, Axion's perimeter lights glaring in the distance. Danny had already given his friends the gist-- one guard, Valerie's dad. Cujo meandered nearby, unusually restless, nose to the wind and maybe picking up on the tension in the group. Sam peered through binoculars, while Tucker fiddled with his PDA. Danny himself sat cross-legged, still in ghost form, visibly weighed down but trying to focus.

"So," Sam muttered flatly. "Dog shows up everywhere, causes property damage, and you're saying he's not just looking for trouble?"

"No." Danny's voice was quiet but firm. "He's not random. He's been pawing or sniffing at the ground every time. He took me to Axion twice. He's looking for something."

As if to prove his point, Cujo whined and dug a little patch of dirt at Danny's side. The boy absently stroked the dog's head, staring at the lit facility in the distance.

"Guess that makes him Lassie with rabies," Tucker joked, then held his PDA aloft with mock dramaticism. "Lucky for us, Axion is still running an older firewall system. I can buy you a few blind spots in their cameras and motion sensors." He smirked proudly.

Sam rolled her eyes and pulled out her laptop to thumb through old financial reports. "I'll see if Axion's been moving anything weird in or out the last couple months," she offered. "Probably won't find anything, but if Cujo's looking for something dangerous…"

Danny gave a small smile, but his eyes stayed distant. Almost unconsciously, he scratched Cujo's ear. Then familiar words curled around his head, low and deliberate.

"Very good, Daniel," came Vlad's smooth tone. "At last you see it. He is not rampaging-- he is searching. You must think as he does, not as a human boy with a leash."

The boy jolted slightly, shoulders stiffening. He hadn't expected to hear Vlad again. Noticing the movement, Sam lowered her laptop and looked at him.

"What? What is it?" She asked.

"Uh, nothing," Danny covered. "Just a cramp. Sitting too long." He stretched out one leg to fake massaging it. He hadn't even thought about telling the truth.

Vlad chuckled faintly, like a private whisper. "Trust your instincts." That was all he said.

Danny swallowed, masking his reaction. The other two didn't seem to notice anything amiss, especially with Tucker still typing furiously before grinning and turning to the others.

"Okay, I've got us a ten-minute window in the west quadrant," he informed them almost proudly. "Motion sensors will think it's raining bricks."

"Perfect," Danny replied, tone focused. "I slip in, figure out what Cujo wants, and slip out before security even blinks."

"Right," Sam confirmed. "Quick in, quick out."

It seemed like they were all reassuring themselves more than each other. Danny gave his friends a quick glance, then gripped Cujo's collar and took a deep breath. Cujo gave a sharp bark, tugging toward the lab. The boy stood, pretending that this was all part of the plan-- that he even had a plan. He avoided his friends' eyes-- because the truth was, he knew Vlad was already guiding his next move.

Danny phased through a reinforced wall; some of the security measures were back up, but clearly they hadn't defended against ghosts yet. The halls were empty, lit with sterile ceiling lights. Cujo trotted alongside him, nose to the ground, tail wagging but obviously agitated.

Danny looked around, muttering in frustration. "Wish I knew what I was even looking for…"

Suddenly, Cujo growled, swelling up to his large form. Before Danny could react, a pink plasma blast slammed him in the back, throwing him hard against the wall he just phased through. He winced as he leaned forward, gripping his ribs.

Valerie stepped out of the shadows in her red outfit, weapon aimed at him. "Back to the scene of the crime, huh?" She asked sharply. "Figured."

Danny grimaced, but held out one hand defensively. "Valerie, wait, I don't want to--"

She fired again before he could finish. Adrenaline made Danny forget the pain of what was probably a cracked rib and he dove, rolling to his feet. Cujo barked and charged at Valerie, missing her and smashing into a stack of crates. While she was distracted, Danny shot a quick ecto-blast-- not at Valerie, but at her weapon, knocking it from her hands with a scatter of sparks.

With a snarl, Valerie turned to face him again and drew another weapon from her shoulder. "You ghosts never learn." She fired.

Danny phased upward through the ceiling, but the blast still clipped him and he yelled, spinning back down through another section of roof. Cujo bounded to his side, growling, while Valerie activated her hoverboard and floated about a foot from the ground.

She zoomed through the air toward them, new weapon aimed, peppering the room with pink blasts. Danny weaved and dodged, hurling a counter-blast-- again, not at her, but at the wall just behind her, aiming to distract. She paused and raised a brow as it scorched useless metal.

"You're not even aiming at me," Valerie realized, voice skeptical. "What's your angle, ghost boy?"

He didn't answer, because he didn't really have a good one to give. Instead, as she kept firing, blasting, throwing swablades, Danny held back-- only blocking, only dodging. And Valerie clearly noticed.

"Why aren't you fighting back?" She asked sharply.

Danny bit his lip, ducking under a blast and considering how to approach this. Before he could answer, though, Cujo barreled between them, barking, knocking into the wall with a shoulder. The dog wasn't fighting; he was rampaging, looking for whatever it was he wanted. Acting on instinct, Danny threw a small shield around Valerie to keep the rubble Cujo had displaced from hitting her.

Valerie braced, but then stared, rattled. "You… you protected me?" The grip on her weapon slackened.

Danny went after Cujo instead, right in time for Vlad to whisper into his ear again. "Careful, Daniel," he coaxed softly. "Mercy is a crack in your armor. If she realizes you won't strike her, she will use it." There was something lingering in his voice, a razor-sharp interest. Danny's shoulders tensed.

"I'm not blasting a human, Vlad!" Danny hissed back, catching up with Cujo.

"Of course not," Vlad replied with measured amusement, like Danny was being naive. "But don't let her see that weakness. Control the field, do not surrender it."

Danny frowned at the phrasing, but he was dealing with the dog now. He did his best to herd Cujo away from the wreckage, but Valerie was pressing even harder after that brief hesitation. She launched a volley of sawblades. He dodged wildly, but one grazed his arm; he winced but kept flying.

Valerie clearly noticed his pained expression, and again that he refused to retaliate. Anger leaked into her confusion. "Why won't you hit me?" She sounded furious. "What are you hiding?"

This time she aimed for Cujo, and Danny immediately darted between the two of them with another shield to block the plasma blast. Whether this was her plan or just a reaction, her boots shifted, transformed into something like roller skates, the hoverboard folding up neatly into her soles. Valerie rocketed forward, winding up for a punch.

Danny went intangible out of reflex and Valerie passed harmlessly through him-- straight toward Cujo's waiting jaws. She flailed, trying to brake, and Danny flew forward and grabbed her by the arms to carry her out of danger.

All she did was struggle. "Let me go!"

"Yeah, you're welcome," Danny snapped back, exhausted enough with the situation that he simply dropped her.

Valerie landed in a crouch, glaring at him. Cujo bounded past both of them, deeper into the lab, oblivious to the chaos he was causing. Danny sighed, rubbing his arm with a wince, then snapped back to attention as Valerie primed her weapon again. He kept his shield ready, kept dodging, kept between her and Cujo. A deliberate restraint, unwilling to let either one be hurt.

"… Interesting," Vlad's voice mused almost to himself, somewhat evaluative in tone. He didn't say any more. Danny took that as a cue to ignore it, but something about it left him uneasy.

"One way or another, ghost boy, you're going down!" Valerie shouted as another plasma blast rocketed toward him.

"Not if I can help it," Danny muttered, turning intangible and bracing, ending up painlessly pushed through a wall by the blast.

Danny tumbled intangibly through the wreckage and walls before phasing back to a physical form and hitting a thankfully soft pile of old mats. For a moment he sat there, coughing, nursing the rib which was definitely cracked now if it hadn't been before. The air smelled old and dusty, for lack of a better word, and Danny looked around after a moment. Pet carriers, locked cages, dog bowls…

"An old kennel?" Danny mused, standing slowly to not make the injury worse. It's heal quickly, but for now it hurt. "Must've been where they kept all the guard dogs."

Something shiny and bright pink caught his eye as barking and blasting sounded distantly elsewhere in the complex. A chew toy, in the shape of a bear. Danny picked it up and squeezed lightly; it squeaked, and the barking suddenly stopped.

"This… this is it," Danny realized, before smiling and phasing back through the wall to see Cujo with attention locked on him. "This is what you wanted all along."

Valerie seemed nonplussed enough that she wasn't firing, so Danny held the chew toy aloft and gave it another squeak. Cujo whined, then barked, tail thumping against the floor.

Danny's voice softened, almost edging into laughter as he held the toy out. "You wanted your squeaky, huh? Oh yeah, does the big scary guard dog want his little pink bear?"

Even as Cujo barreled toward him, Danny threw the toy; the dog caught it, and shrank smaller and smaller until finally vanishing. Danny exhaled hard, relief washing through him, with just a touch of something more raw. He'd grown to like that dog.

"Touching," an icy voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Valerie had her weapon aimed point-blank at him. "A ghost and his pet, conspiring."

"Wait--"

"You ruined everything!" The girl snapped. "You and every freak like you!"

Danny raised both hands defensively, backing away a few steps, trying not to flinch at the wording. "Valerie, stop!" He pleaded.

"How do you know my name?!"

The boy hesitated for a split second. "That wasn't an attack!" He figured it was better to keep trying to explain the situation than even attempt to answer the question. "He just wanted his toy. Not all ghosts are monsters!" Danny held out one hand, offering it as if to shake.

Whatever was going through her mind, Valerie faltered, hesitated. Then she tensed, taking Danny's hand as if accepting… before twisting and slamming him into the ground with a thud. Her bracer unfolded into a blaster, aimed directly at his face.

"You expect me to believe that?" Valerie snarled, standing over him. "You and your stupid dog ruined everything. My dad's job, my life-- gone."

She fired, and it took all of Danny's natural reflexes to bring the shield up in time. The sudden movement must have disturbed his rib, because he hissed in pain. "I'm not your enemy!" He cried, voice cracking, through another blast that still didn't pierce the shield. "I could have hit you a dozen times. But I didn't! Look at me, Valerie-- I'm not fighting you!"

For the first time, Valerie truly hesitated. Her posture slackened just a little, even with her arm-blaster trained on him. Or, well, his shield. He wasn't that confident that she would listen. They seemed at a standstill for several seconds, before…

"Valerie?"

The girl jumped, turning to look over her shoulder, a flash of panic on her face. The blaster retracted with a click, and Danny dispelled his shield and stood slowly.

"That's your dad," he spoke, low and urgent. "You don't want him seeing this." Danny took a breath and turned intangible. He didn't need to keep fighting here, especially with Valerie's dad coming. "… I can't help you there." He flew out through the ceiling.

Valerie was left breathing hard, stuffing her weapons in her bag and pressing a button on her wrist that retracted the costume-- she still hadn't figured out how it did that. And then-- a clatter behind her. She whirled around to see… Tucker, caught in a net, hair full of twigs and grinning triumphantly?

"What the--"

"Uh. Surprise?" Tucker tried. "I, uh, hacked the alarms. Totally meant to. For you! To… cover your tracks! Yeah."

He was babbling, and Valerie's mouth twitched into a smile. But then Damon Gray burst onto the scene, dressed like a mall cop, holding a baton. His glare landed squarely on the boy.

"Uh…" Tucker laughed weakly. "Hi, you must be her dad. You're, uh, way bigger than I thought you'd be."

Damon narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. The teens both smiled awkwardly as the alarms wound down. Tucker just hung there, hoping this counted as a win.

The flight back home was fine. Danny caught Sam up on the situation and had gone straight home to avoid talking more than he had to. The exhaustion of the last few days was really catching up with him, and Vlad hadn't resurfaced since the fight, so for once he was left alone with his thoughts. But he made it home, had a quick dinner that Jazz had insisted on making for him, and had settled on the couch to relax a little. And then the doorbell rang.

Danny had an odd sense of deja vu.

Jazz rose to get it, and when she opened the door-- yep, there was Vlad. The man strode in holding what seemed like a pet carrier; Danny stiffened instantly as Vlad addressed the room.

"Good evening, my dear friends," he greeted jovially. "I just finished my meeting with Axion-- dull as can be-- and I thought before I left town, I'd drop by with a small… gift."

He set the carrier down. A small whine came from inside. Maddie frowned, Jazz raised an eyebrow, and Jack leaned forward-- but Danny's eyes widened. He knew that whine.

"Vlad, what on Earth--?" His mom began.

Vlad raised his hands in a Gallic shrug. "I couldn't resist," he admitted. "Consider this a token of appreciation-- for a bright young man who's shown remarkable courage of late." He bent down to unlatch the carrier, and a puppy scrambled out. Cujo.

Danny's breath caught, but Jack scooped up the dog before he could react. "Ho-ho! Would you take a look at this little bruiser!" The man boomed as Danny stood slowly, uncertainly. "Strong jaw, good stance-- why, he'll make a fine ghost-hunting hound!"

"He'll make a fine mess, Jack," Maddie started, disapprovingly. "A dog? In this house? He could get into the lab equipment, contaminate samples, chew the cables… this isn't practical."

Ignoring his mom, Danny reached to take the puppy from Jack. Cujo immediately wriggled happily in his arms, licking his cheek. Danny laughed, startled, genuinely delighted. "I… wow. I didn't… I mean, I've never…" He trailed off, looking at Vlad and hugging the dog tighter. "He's… thank you."

Vlad's smile sharpened slightly at Danny's reaction, but his tone stayed warm. "A brave young man deserves companionship. Dogs are loyal, Daniel." There was something about the way he said that. "The most important trait one can have. They ground us and keep us steady."

Jazz was watching Danny closely, taking in his reaction. Speechless, clearly overwhelmed, a mix of joy and disbelief on his face. She softened, looking at their mom. "Maybe this isn't such a bad thing?" She asked. "He looks… happier. And honestly, it's good for him to have something to care for."

"Ah, on that note," Vlad cut in, "I took the liberty of giving him a tracking collar. If he gets out, or gets into trouble… well, I can certainly help you find him." Under the words was a clear message for Danny to look at the collar, so he did. It was mostly the same, but the Axion logo on the tag had been replaced-- a capital V on a globe.

"But why now, Mr Masters?" Jazz asked. "Why a puppy, and why Danny?"

The man chuckled, brushing the question off. "Oh, I do believe in rewarding excellence when I see it Jasmine. Young Daniel has been exemplary." A brief pause. "And because it pleases me to see your brother smile. Surely that is reason enough? And call me Uncle Vlad if you like, my dear, Mr Masters is so impersonal."

"I still don't like it," Maddie sighed, rubbing her temples. "A dog underfoot in this house is a disaster waiting to happen."

"Nonsense, Maddie!" Jack boomed. "Every family needs a dog! We'll train him-- he'll learn to sniff out ghosts, guard the portal. Brilliant idea, Vlad!"

Danny laughed again, still cradling Cujo. The sound was shaky but real-- overwhelmed, unsure how to process it all, but unwilling to let go of the slightly-cool bundle in his arms. "He's… he's really mine?" He asked.

Vlad gave him an indulgent smile. "Of course, my boy. Yours to keep."

The puppy pawed at Danny's shirt, snagging a nail on the cloth. Danny tugged it free with an awkward grin, unable to hide how much this meant to him. It was almost too perfectly wrapped up, and Danny didn't care. For once, it was something he got to keep. He had no idea what to call this mix of emotion-- touched, bewildered, and caught between comfort and unease.

The trio sat on a bench in the city park while Cujo romped happily around them in the grass, tail wagging. Danny had found out from Vlad after the fact that the collar swap did provide tracking services, but more importantly, kept Cujo in his small form unless Vlad manually hit a release. Something to do with some element called Ecto-ranium. It was a good way to make sure the puppy wouldn't go on any uncontrolled rampages until Danny could really train him.

Tucker's face lit up at every bark, but Sam looked unconvinced, leaning back with arms folded. Danny didn't care. He watched Cujo with open warmth; it was the happiest he'd looked, and felt, in weeks.

"Man, I'm telling you, this rules!" Tucker exclaimed, tossing Cujo a potato chip. Not like it'd hurt him. "Vlad just drops in, gives you a dog? Instant best day of the week."

"Except it's not just a dog, Tucker," Sam pointed out, arching a brow. "It's the dog. The ghost dog that's been tearing up Axion Labs, wrecking the school, and dragging Danny into every fight this week."

Danny shifted uncomfortably, glancing down as Cujo snapped up the chip Tucker had given him. The dog rolled in the grass for a few seconds, then flopped onto Danny's shoes. Danny smiled, bending to scratch his dog-- his dog!-- behind the ears. "Yeah, well, maybe he's not so bad now." It felt like a bad idea to tell them about the collar swap, so he didn't. "Maybe he just needed someone to… I dunno, stick around."

"Uh huh." Sam didn't sound convinced. "And Vlad just happened to gift-wrap him for you? You don't think that's suspicious?"

He didn't answer her right away, instead looking away. Tucker didn't seem to notice, too busy pulling out his PDA to snap a picture of the dog.

"Who's a good boy? You are!" Tucker cooed. "That's right. Best ghost puppy ever."

Sam glared at him, then turned back to Danny, voice lower and more serious. "Danny… this isn't random. Vlad didn't just happen to give you a dog. He's planting something. People like him always are."

Danny stiffened, ready to push back-- then Vlad's voice ghosted into his ear, smooth and possessive. "She doubts you because she doubts me," he whispered firmly. "Do not let her turn you against what is yours."

He froze for a beat, startled, but covered it quickly; the others didn't seem to notice, and Sam appeared to be content to let him think about her words for a while. Cujo licked at his hands with a soft whine, grounding him. Danny forced a small laugh as Vlad continued.

"Do not let them tarnish your joy, Daniel. This dog is yours because you earned it. He is my gift to you. Proof that you are not alone. Remember this."

Danny's eyes flickered, conflicted. He looked back down at Cujo, who pawed at his leg, tail wagging. Danny scratched the puppy's head again, visibly comforted. "Mine," he murmured, so low the others didn't hear. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the word stuck in his chest, warm and protective and loyal. That's what dogs were supposed to be, right? Loyal. His.

He had something that wouldn't leave, wouldn't slip away, wouldn't laugh at him or fight him on every decision. For the first time in weeks, he looked genuinely happy.

The lights were low except for moonlight cutting across the room through the window. Valerie knelt on the rough carpet, alone in the apartment; her dad still had to guard the facility at night. To occupy herself, she had laid out all her gear on her floor, keeping track of what everything was and did and maybe figuring out how her suit worked. Tools and cleaning rags were scattered nearby, serving as maintenance as much as inventory.

"That ghost boy thinks he can ruin my life," she muttered, wiping down a cannon. "Wreck everything my dad built, like it's some kind of game."

She fit a new power cell into her gauntlet blaster, the click of it locking in echoing in the quiet room. She'd finally calibrated the trigger so it wouldn't fire just from being touched. The charge meter glowed a neon pink as she tested the trigger. A grim smile crossed her lips.

"He doesn't get to just walk away. Not after this."

Valerie began packing her weapons back into their cases, only leaving a few out-- the ones she wanted on her at all times, just in case some other ghost got any bright ideas.

"Ghost boy," she mumbled, unfolding her suit out on the bed. "Your little mutt." She was so glad she'd discovered the safety latch on her ecto-blaster. It made it much less nerve-wracking to put the thing in her bag with everything for school. "Every ghost in this town."

She put her bag on the bed, looking down at the red suit with hands on hips.

"You've made an enemy." She paused, as if testing the next thing that came out of her mouth. "And the Red Huntress doesn't lose."

Chapter Text

The industrial lot was a graveyard of rust and shadow, somewhere between an abandoned construction site and an old shipyard. Empty cranes loomed like great beasts over cracked pavement. Piles of warped steel and gutted machinery lined the fence; looters had long since ripped out any valuable material. The place had been abandoned for years, but the humid, warm June air still carried the tang of oil, a ghost of whatever had once thrived here.

Danny remembered this place. Vlad had first brought him here over a week ago, when Cujo was still rampaging. Now, it had become their training ground-- quiet, isolated, abandoned. The stillness suited them. No curious eyes, no teachers or family or classmates, just broken concrete and wide open space where the echoes would stay unheard.

The one remaining crooked streetlamp was the only thing providing light except for the moon and stars, but Danny didn't need it. His night vision had been steadily getting better in the last month. The air was thick and heavy, carrying the lingering scent of the storm that had passed earlier. It clung to his skin as Danny squared up, hovering above the asphalt in ghost form, waiting for Vlad's next instruction.

The man in question stood below, also in his ghost form, hands clasped behind his back and eyes sharp despite the faint smile curving his lips. "Mercy is a distraction you cannot always afford, Daniel." The pleasant voice held a sharp edge. "Stop pulling your punches, or you will lose."

"I'm not--" Danny began defensively.

"You are," Vlad interrupted. "Against rubble, you strike well enough. But against ghosts, you falter, you hold back. Against humans, you refuse."

With a flick of a wrist, Vlad produced a cube of energy-- within it, an ectopus, a weak ghost that Danny had fought before. It writhed in the box. Danny startled at the sight, realizing what Vlad was about to do.

"You can't just--" he started in alarm.

"Your enemies will not ask permission before striking," Vlad once again interrupted icily. He tossed the box forward so the ectopus hovered in the air between them. "Attack it."

Danny hesitated, shoulders tense, before forming a small ecto-blast in his palm. After a moment he fired, hitting the ectopus; despite it squealing and thrashing, it appeared mostly undamaged, panicking more than injured. Danny flinched and lowered his hand.

"Pathetic," came Vlad's disappointed reprimand, making Danny wince. "Again. Stronger."

"It's… it's not even attacking me," Danny pointed out quietly.

Vlad clicked his tongue. "Do you think that matters?" He asked, tone cutting. "A ghost uncontrolled is a threat to you by existing. Do not let sympathy soften your hand."

Danny took a deep breath, watching the ghost recoil in its box. He clenched his fists and swallowed. It… it wasn't like this ghost was a human. He'd never known ectopuses to be particularly intelligent… The boy lifted his hand, a stronger blast forming. The hesitation lingered in his eyes, but he exhaled and fired-- at full force this time.

The ectopus shrieked, its form dissipating into mist, leaving only what looked like a glowing mass behind that fell to the bottom of the cube and bounced slightly. Vlad dispelled the box and whatever it contained with another gesture. The blast still echoed in Danny's palm like a jitter of electricity he couldn't shake, and he clenched it until the sensation went away. He didn't want Vlad to see the tremor.

"Better," Vlad stepped closer as Danny dropped his hand, shoulders sagging. The boy glanced away, unsettled. "Obedience to command, without question. You see, Daniel?" The man smiled-- pleased, expectant, proud. "That is discipline. And discipline is power."

Danny didn't answer, jaw tight, but Vlad placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"That's my boy. You followed instruction." Vlad's voice held approval. "And you prevailed. That is all that matters. That is strength."

The boy stared at the ground for a moment, a sense of guilt twisting his stomach. He whispered under his breath to himself. "That's… strength." The words sounded hollow, but he repeated them in his head, trying to believe them and ignore the trembling in his hands.

It was only Danny's second time in the Ghost Zone and he already hated it.

Surrounded by countless purple doors in an endless expanse of shifting green, the boy struggled against a new, fairly low-threat opponent on a wavering piece of floating land. This ghost had introduced himself as Klemper, and for some reason, he really wanted to be friends with Danny. Tucker and Sam were nearby, of course, piloting the Specter Speeder and laughing at the comical struggle in front of them. Klemper wasn't even a threat-- he just wouldn't leave Danny alone.

"Klemper!" Danny tried for the fifth time, voice strained. "Get off me!"

This was, of course, in reference to the fact that the ghost had him in a hug that would probably crush him if he was in human form. "But I just want to be your friend!" Klemper replied with bizarre cheer, considering Danny was kicking and shoving at him wildly.

Danny growled, his normal white glow intensifying briefly. Vlad had called it an aura flare, a natural ghostly threat display; it was something that happened when he was angry, sometimes, and included his eyes glowing green in human form as well. It served as the only warning before he blasted Klemper backward, hard. The other ghost yelped, smacking into a floating rock, and clinged to it with a frown. Danny hovered forward, hands clenched and still surrounded with ectoplasm, eyes sharp.

"Better, Daniel," Vlad approved, unbidden. "Precision. Efficiency. Don't let him waste your strength." A pause. "You know what to do."

The boy hesitated a fraction, suddenly glad his back was to his friends so they wouldn't see the flicker of guilt cross his face. Klemper wasn't attacking, just being an annoyance. But… It's just to get him to leave, Danny thought to himself. I'm not really hurting him. He lunged again, fists blazing, and grazed Klemper's arm with an ecto-blast that singed through the striped clothing the ghost wore. Klemper whimpered, then fled into the endless void.

"Good boy." Vlad again. "Precise. Relentless, but controlled."

Danny hovered in the silence for a few seconds, shoulders tight, fists dimming, trying not to let the pride at being praised show too plainly. He rubbed his gloved hands for a moment; Klemper had blasted him with some ice-breath earlier, not painful but colder than expected. Once he'd schooled his expression, he flew toward the Speeder and dropped in, before turning back to human form.

"Will someone please remind me why this was a good idea?" Danny deadpanned, sitting between Sam piloting and Tucker fiddling with his PDA.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to map the Ghost Zone," Sam reminded him with a smirk.

"And the only one who doesn't have to wear these stupid Fenton Phones," Tucker added, poking at the Fenton tech earbuds in his ears. Both he and Sam were wearing them, but not Danny; the idea was that the earbuds would filter out spectral noise, making it easier for them to communicate, however that worked. Danny had no idea, it was just something his dad had made.

Sam rolled her eyes. "They're not stupid. I think they make great techno-goth earrings."

Danny gave a weak smile. "Maybe I should give a pair to Paulina," he teased. Sam shot him a glare that could curdle milk.

Tucker snickered. "Good thing they double as wireless earbuds." He scrolled through his PDA to land on the new song he'd been obsessed with.

Sam directed the Speeder back toward where the portal had spit them out. "Nice shot back there, by the way," she commented. "Little brutal, though. You okay?"

"Fine," Danny replied quickly, having gotten used to deflecting questions like that. "He's gone, isn't he?" Vlad chuckled in his ear but said nothing. He rubbed his hands again. Without the gloves of his jumpsuit, his skin had lost what little retained heat it had, and now he was just cold. "Can a ghost get frostbite?" He redirected the conversation.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Here, my hands are warm," she stated, taking her hands off the controls for a moment to put them over Danny's.

Danny blinked at her, startled, but didn't pull away immediately. His expression softened. Sam looked up, as if realizing what she was doing, and color crept into their faces. And then--

"Ember! So warm and tender!" Tucker squawked off-key, trying to sing along to whatever he was listening to. Both Danny and Sam jerked back from the contact, startled.

"Yeah," Danny chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck, "think I'm gonna need my hands for this."

Sam scowled at Tucker, who didn't even notice, as Danny put his hands over his ears. She went back to piloting them out of the Ghost Zone.

"Control the field, Daniel," Vlad coached in his ear, unhindered by Danny covering them. "Never surrender it. Focus brings victory. Remember that."

Danny swallowed, saying nothing, narrowing his eyes a little as the portal approached. He really had to stop forgetting that Vlad saw, and had opinions on, everything that he did. Control the field. Whatever that meant.

The Fentonworks lab was never a welcoming sight, but it was already better than the Ghost Zone nonsense they'd just been through. The other Fentons weren't there, thankfully; Jazz was probably up in her room obsessively listening to the new CD she'd bought, and the parents were off trying to find a ghost at some local library. It meant the Specter Speeder arrived to no suspicion, and an empty lab.

Danny stowed the couple of maps he'd sketched out of the Ghost Zone in his notebook, which he'd left on a nearby workbench. Art class in his first semester was really paying off; the drawings were hasty but not terrible. He'd refine it later, with something clearer than his hand-written cursive labels and basic outlines of the floating rocks.

The boy was shaken from his thoughts when something small bonked into his shin with a yip. Cujo stared up at Danny, panting happily, tail whipping, clearly just excited that Danny was back. The puppy was still locked to his small form by the collar, so he couldn't get up to too much mischief now, even if he was stronger than he looked. Danny grinned down at him.

Now would be a good time to try training the dog, he supposed…

Danny stiffened his posture and pointed down. "Cujo. Sit. Focus." He said it clearly, but the next bit was mumbled. "Direct. Do not chase."

Cujo's ears perked up and he tilted his head, then plopped down obediently. Danny exhaled with a faint, almost proud smile, continuing to mutter like he didn't realize he was doing it. "Posture first. Voice second."

"That didn't sound like you," Sam stated flatly, leaning against the workbench with arms folded.

Startled, Danny glanced over, then seemed to realize, and looked away with a shrug as if dismissing it. He caught a glance of Tucker still sitting in the Speeder, rocking out to whatever music he was listening to. "What?" Danny finally asked. "It's just… training. You said it yourself, he's still a dog."

"No, Danny," Sam retorted firmly. "You don't talk like that. 'Posture first, voice second'? That's not you, that's Vlad."

He stiffened. "So what if it is?" His voice came out sharper than he meant it to.

Sam frowned at him before pushing off the workbench and stepping closer. "You don't listen to us anymore," she accused, tone heated. "Every time Tucker or I try to help, you just brush us off. But Vlad opens his mouth and suddenly you're quoting him like scripture?"

Danny bristled, defensive now, his shoulders uneven but squared. "Because he's the only one actually helping me get better!" He shot.

That landed heavily; Cujo barked at the tension, then stood, tail low and head tilted. Sam blinked, hurt but furious; Tucker looked up and pulled an earbud out, realizing something was wrong.

"Better?" Sam's tone was quiet but sharp. "He's not helping you, Danny, he's controlling you. Every word of his you repeat is one less that's yours."

"You don't get it!" Danny's voice cracked in an emotion he didn't have a name for. "Every fight, I screw up. Valerie's after me, Cujo's a disaster, Skulker still wants my head as a trophy, I'm getting tossed around every week, and you just…" He gestured wildly at her, trying to convey it, "you just lecture. Vlad, he-- he makes me stronger." Danny let his hands drop, winded by the energy of his own outburst. "He actually… he actually believes I can handle this."

There was a moment of silence as Sam recoiled, but then her jaw set. "And what do you believe, Danny?" Her voice was soft now, but edged. "Hm? That you're only worth something if you listen to him?"

Danny faltered, not having a response to that. Guilt flashed across his face, but he looked away as if to hide it. Tucker was finally getting out of the Speeder, pulling out his other earbud.

"Uh, guys?" The boy tried to defuse. "Can we not fight in front of the ghost dog?" Tucker glanced at Cujo. "Pretty sure he picks up on vibes."

As if to confirm, Cujo whined softly, unsettled by the raised voices, and nosed at Danny's ankle. Danny bent down to scoop the puppy up in his arms-- the puppy Vlad had given him.

Danny stroked Cujo's fur to soothe him, hugging a little too tightly, still glaring at Sam. "See? Even Cujo listens better than you are right now."

"No," Sam cut back, "he doesn't. You're the one listening less."

"He's the only one keeping me from falling apart!" Danny snapped, no longer talking about Cujo.

Turning to leave the lab with his dog still in his arms, he didn't notice Tucker staring, unsettled for once, realizing just how strange Danny sounded, that this wasn't something he could joke away. Sam's expression hardened into something fierce, like anger mixed with worry. In the charged silence left between them, Cujo was the only one wagging his tail.

School. Tempers were still heated the next morning, and the incessant music blaring from dozens of earbuds and speakers wasn't helping either of their moods. Overnight, it seemed, posters of new pop idol Ember McLain lined the walls and lockers. Students hummed along or chanted her name under their breath; the usual socializing was muted, and when it did happen, it was about Ember.

"I don't get it," Danny complained, frustrated. "This Ember person comes outta nowhere and suddenly she's the biggest thing since MP3s? It's so--"

"-- Infuriating how mindless, pre-packaged corporate bubblegum is drowning out actual artists?" Sam interrupted, tone still sharp.

Danny faltered for a moment. "I was gonna say 'weird'," he started flatly, "but yeah, sure."

Tucker grinned, tugging his new Ember shirt. "You don't get it," he claimed. "Ember's not just about music-- she's an expression of my unique individuality."

"Uh huh," Sam deadpanned, arching a brow. "You and every other one-of-a-kind Ember zombie." She gestured at all the students dressed exactly the same as Tucker.

Danny snorted, but there wasn't much energy behind it. Sam crossed her arms stiffly. Tension lingered.

Down the hall, Paulina appeared around the corner, decked out in full Ember merch like everyone else. She caught sight of the trio and sauntered over, smug smile on her face.

"Nice earrings," she started, raising an eyebrow at Sam. "Sale at the 89-cent store?"

Sam straightened up, walking next to Danny, smug expression on her face. "For your information, Paulina, they're a gift," she stated, a thread of anger under the smugness. "Danny gave them to me."

The boy in question froze, eyes wide. He forced a weak laugh, internally panicking. Of course Sam would do this when they were mad at each other. Sam kept her chin high, glaring at Paulina.

"Really? He gave you earrings?" Paulina scoffed. "I always knew you two losers would end up together."

She flounced off, but that didn't keep Sam from bristling, or Danny from groaning.

"We're not losers!" Sam shouted after her.

"And we're not together!" Danny added.

"Ember! Go Ember!" Tucker chimed in, oblivious. "Remember! Ember!"

The two of them rounded on him, glaring. "Would you keep it down?!" They both snapped in unison.

Across the hall, Dash elbowed Kwan, laughing. "Hey, check it out!" He called a little too loudly. "The lovebirds are ganging up on Foley!"

'We're not lovebirds!" Both of them shot at once.

Danny and Sam exchanged an awkward glance, then looked away, embarrassed, like they'd momentarily forgotten they were supposed to be mad at each other. Tucker just shrugged, too busy listening to Ember's song to notice the strain between his friends.

Class immediately seemed extra strict, as if in response to the Ember-mania taking over Casper High. The students settled in to their first period, where Mr Lancer stood at the board. Behind him was a bulky contraption with wires, dials, and monitors; it hummed faintly, and Danny idly thought it kind of looked like a Fentonworks invention.

"As you know," Lancer started without preamble, "the Northwestern Nine standardized tests are only two days away. And because my bonus is proportional to your grades…" He gestured to the machine. "Behold, the CramTastic Mark Five!"

Groans rippled through the room as helmets were passed out. Danny turned his helmet in his hands before putting it on; Sam glared at the machine like it was an affront to humanity; Tucker excitedly plugged his PDA into the side of his station.

Vlad scoffed in Danny's ear. "A machine to replace actual study? Lazy, shortsighted, dangerous. But then, mediocrity has always been the motto for public schooling."

"The latest in subliminal study aid technology," Lancer continued. "Learning at the speed of light!" He pressed a button on the machine. "Let the learning begin!"

The screens flickered, and immediately, Ember's face burst across every monitor. Guitar blazing, lyrics booming out of the speakers-- students immediately cheered and began chanting her name.

Danny and Sam ripped off their helmets in unison, horrified. "Wait, what?" Danny asked. "This is supposed to be study data!"

"It's bubblegum hypnosis," Sam stated, disgruntled. "Figures."

Danny glanced at her-- half in agreement, half worn down by her sharpness-- but didn't respond. Around them, students-- including Tucker-- cheered and pumped fists like they were at a real concert.

"Ember!" Tucker sang off-key. "Go Ember!"

Lancer rushed to the machine, helplessly fumbling with the switches before finally unplugging it from the wall. The music stopped; the kids blinked in abrupt confusion. Lancer popped the disc out-- bright blue with pink lettering: "LIVE! EMBER".

The music started again.

"Foley!" Lancer immediately rounded on Tucker, fuming. "Turn off that blasted PDA!" He threw the CD at Tucker as the sound of drums began to swell.

Tucker ducked, then pointed out the window. "It's not me! It's coming from out there!"

Students rushed to the windows, pressing in close. The beat grew louder. Outside, smoke machines and stage lights rose from nowhere-- Ember's concert forming right in the school courtyard. Danny gripped the window frame, frowning, eyes narrowed.

"Public education, Daniel," Vlad's voice curled in his ears. "A system so desperate for shortcuts it leaves itself vulnerable. No wonder she slipped in so easily."

Danny swallowed, uneasy, but didn't answer aloud. The students rushed out of the room and into the hall, no doubt aiming to swarm the grass to meet Ember for real. Sam noticed his distraction, watching him for a beat; he met her eyes, her gaze sharpened, then both wordlessly followed the crowd, sensing trouble.

They'd barely gotten outside when a truck with a mobile stage pulled in with a screech, completing the concert-lite setup. The tarp dropped; massive amps blared to life as purple smoke billowed across the lawn in a way that made Danny's heart leap to his throat in how he was reminded of Spectra. Out of the haze, Ember materialized in a blaze of blue flame, guitar at the ready, hair seemingly literally on fire. Her backup band puffed into existence in much a similar way.

"Hello, Casper High!" The singer shouted into her mic. The crowd erupted in cheers. "Tell me who you love!

"Ember! Ember!"

Sam scowled; Tucker was already in the thick of the crowd, cheering like it was the best day of his life. Danny, however, was distracted-- his ghost sense puffed out in a fine mist.

"Uh oh," he muttered, looking around. Nobody had eyes on him. Good.

On stage, Ember grinned, her hair flaring hotter. "That's it, babies, say my name! Are you ready for a little youth revolution?"

The crowd roared. "We love you, Ember!" Tucker shouted, still cheering.

"That's because I fill a void in your empty little lives!"

"You're right, Ember!"

Sam glanced back at Danny, who was already transforming-- but only after Lancer had rushed past him with a megaphone. As the teacher climbed on top of a picnic table, the twin rings of light flashed over Danny's body and he rocketed toward the stage.

"At last, a true opponent," came Vlad's silken voice as Lancer shouted something about the "freakishly dressed teen idol". "She draws strength from their adoration. Cut it off, Daniel. Precision and force. No mercy this time."

Danny grit his teeth, flying low as Ember strummed her guitar. A purple shockwave knocked Lancer off his perch, and a small swarm of students rushed him. Danny ignored it.

"No mercy," he muttered, frowning. "Right."

He shot a green blast, deliberately aimed so that it burned through one of the amps instead of Ember herself. Sparks flew, cutting her sound for a beat. Ember hissed, whirling on him. "Big mistake, ghost boy!" She shouted.

The crowd booed at Danny for daring to interrupt, but he barely looked at them. He steeled himself, repeating under his breath like a mantra: "Control the field. Precision."

"Good," Vlad praised smoothly. "Now press the advantage. Show her you will not falter."

Ember's guitar screamed as she launched a vortex of sound at him. Danny dodged, the wave tearing up the concrete where he'd been standing. Students cheered louder, chanting. He hovered, jaw tight, not retreating yet but still hesitating to go right for her. It was strange, he'd never had this much trouble fighting humanoid enemies before. But she strummed again, her attack roaring out like a tidal wave. Danny ducked and weaved, shooting a blast to disrupt the wave before it could hit the students. The crowd screamed in delight, cheering louder.

"Cut the sound, Daniel," Vlad coached, low and insistent. "Break her rhythm."

Danny grit his teeth and fired-- sharp, precise blasts. One shattered a drum amp, another knocked the mic stand, a third vaporized a stage light. Ember snarled, but the flames of her hair blazed higher.

"You think you can upstage me?" She snarled, before turning to the crowd. "Say my name, babies! Louder!"

"Ember! Ember!"

Danny winced, barely pulling out an ecto-shield in time for another sonic wave. Sam shouted from the edge of the mob, but he could barely hear her over the cheers and chanting.

"Danny! Don't let her work the crowd!"

"Heavy, isn't it?" The ghost idol taunted. "Knowing you're just the warm-up act."

Danny pushed back, blasting at the ground in front of her, forcing Ember to leap back. His expression flickered, but he forced himself forward, echoing under his breath. "Control the field. Focus brings victory. Control."

"Yes," Vlad affirmed. "Direct the chaos. Bend it."

With a surge, Danny dove straight at Ember, ramming her guitar with his shoulder. The riff cut short in a horrible screech, and Ember tumbled back, hair sputtering as the flames cooled a notch. The crowd wavered, confused, their chanting faltering.

Ember pushed herself back up, furious. "You little jive turkey!" She yelled. "Nobody cuts my set!"

Picking up her guitar, she strummed one more time, a jagged wave exploding outward. Danny braced, but instead of tanking it with a shield, he angled the barrier to redirect it-- sending it upward with a blast so it blew harmlessly into the sky.

Ember hissed, pointing her guitar at him. "This isn't over!" Blue fire flared around her as she, her band, and her equipment vanished in a smoke burst, leaving only scorched pavement and a dazed crowd behind.

Danny lowered himself to the ground, slipping behind a tree and transforming back to human before jogging toward the mumbling students. He was breathing hard; his ribs ached, but he forced himself to stay upright.

Sam rushed up and grabbed Danny by the arm, concern winning out over her earlier anger. "You okay?"

He nodded faintly, trying not to show the adrenaline still coursing through him. The crowd of students began dispersing awkwardly, filtering back into the school like they'd forgotten what they were so excited about.

Tucker stumbled up, confused and disappointed. "What? No encore? What's that all about?"

Sam glared at him; Danny forced a weak, breathless laugh. He schooled his expression as Vlad's voice echoed once more in his ear.

"Better. Much better."

He shivered slightly, but hid it quickly as he straightened, already bracing himself for the next round. He never only fought a ghost once, and she'd already promised a rematch.

The school day continued fairly normally. Or, well, as normal as it could be with everyone except for Danny and Sam obsessed with the teen rocker who, apparently, was actually a ghost. They'd even managed to get through fifth period without further incident, though the two of them were still tense and not really talking to each other as much. Thankfully, Sam hadn't decided to bring up Vlad again, too busy dealing with Tucker's terrible singing.

Danny was putting some books away in his locker with the other two standing nearby when he heard Lancer's voice from around the corner. "… one more trace of that woman in my school today, I'll--"

Which was when the teacher turned the corner and stopped short. Danny had already tuned it all out by now, but what Lancer saw was even worse than that morning: posters tacked everywhere, Ember hair dye and wigs and eyeliner. How everyone had managed this stuff during school hours was beyond Danny, but the effect it had on Lancer was clear.

"Chicken Soup for the Soul!" The man cried, exasperated, dropping a stack of Ember-covered magazines.

Danny gave a sidelong look at Tucker, who was beaming, also in full Ember merch-- shirt, eyeliner, even a flaming wig instead of his usual beret. "Tucker, you're starting to scare me," he commented flatly. "And I fight ghosts."

"It's an Ember thing." Tucker patted his wig. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand she's an evil, mind-controlling spirit from another dimension," was Sam's dry comeback.

"Yeah, but you said the same thing about Paulina."

Danny almost choked trying to hold back the laugh. Sam shot him an unimpressed glare, and he shrugged helplessly. "You know… he's got a point."

Right on cue, Paulina swept in-- also in Ember cosplay, eyeliner and all. She seemed not to care that she was talking to the unpopular kids. "Ember's giving away free concert tickets at Bucky's Music Megastore!" She spotted Tucker and pointed at him, smiling. "Nice hair!"

"Thanks." Tucker gave finger guns back. "Nice hair!"

The hallway erupted as students swarmed for the exit, screaming Ember's name. Poor Lancer intercepted, trying to barricade the doors by spreading his arms wide. "You people aren't going anywhere except detention!"

The crowd barreled right through him, trampling and leaving him flattened against the lockers.

Tucker didn't stampede out the door, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Danny and Sam were both holding him back as he strained for the exit. "Must… have… Ember… tix!"

Sam gritted her teeth. "We're going to have to deprogram him," she growled, strained.

The two of them exchanged a look. Then Danny closed his eyes, digging his heels in, trying to pull Tucker back without having to go ghost in front of Lancer. "Control the field," he muttered, without fully realizing. "Don't surrender it…"

"Now is a really bad time to be doing that, Danny," Sam hissed, snapping her gaze at him, but he didn't meet her eyes. He just tightened his grip on Tucker, jaw set.

Vlad's voice slunk over him. "Very good, Daniel," he praised, smooth and approving. "See how they flail while you hold steady. You are the anchor."

Danny swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on Tucker instead of Vlad. Sam kept her eyes on him for a moment, watching with a mix of worry and anger as they steadily made progress dragging Tucker back into a classroom.

Tucker was roughly and unceremoniously shoved into a chair-desk by Sam and held down by Danny while Sam tied him up. To an outside observer it would look like they were kidnapping him, but thankfully there were no outside observers right now. Except maybe Vlad, but he got the context. They'd found an empty classroom with the CramTastic still set up, so now they just had to strap him in for a while.

Sam knocked Tucker's Ember wig off to replace it with the CramTastic helmet. Screens flickered with nonsense graphs and formulae. She sighed, then stated flatly, "This is where the healing starts."

"Yeah, if it works," Danny answered softly. "Poor guy looks miserable."

"Better miserable than brainwashed," Sam retorted with a pointed look at Danny.

He ignored her. Tucker hummed faintly, oblivious. Danny glanced at him, then whispered under his breath: "Control the field. Focus or you endanger everyone."

Sam stared at him, frozen. Danny glanced up, then away. Her gaze sharpened. "That sounded like him," she cut quietly.

"It's just good advice," was the defensive response.

"It's his advice," Sam pressed. "You just… parrot whatever he says."

"Because he's the only one helping me get better!" Danny snapped, repeating his earlier argument. "Every fight, every mistake-- I can't afford them. Not with a dozen ghosts and a ghost hunter after me. Not with Ember messing with everyone's heads." His voice softened. "He's… he's the only one taking this seriously."

"No," Sam said, low but steady. "He's the only one making you take him seriously. There's a difference."

Danny looked away, jaw tightening, stung. Sam folded her arms, looked at him for a moment, looked at Tucker, and finally settled back on Danny, voice dropping several degrees colder.

"You know," she started, voice cracking before turning cutting, "if Tucker needs 'deprogramming', maybe you do, too."

"That isn't funny," Danny shot back, voice hard and clipped.

The silence hung, sharp and heavy. Danny gripped the back of Tucker's chair until his knuckles went white; Sam looked away, hurt. For a moment it seemed as if the argument might have boiled over. The silence was sharp enough to sting--

-- and then Vlad's voice coiled softly around Danny's ears, warm and pleased as ever.

"Ah, Daniel… how gratifying. You stand for me even when they would tear you down." The voice chuckled. "Loyalty is no small thing."

Danny stilled, startled at first, but didn't answer. Sam clearly didn't notice-- she was too busy pointedly not looking at him. Tucker still provided background noise, humming nonsense obliviously under the CramTastic helmet.

"They may doubt," Vlad continued, smooth as silk. "But you… you know who truly guides you."

The boy exhaled, shoulders tense, almost guilty… but he relaxed as the praise landed, reassurance passing across his face. He couldn't help it. The moment hung.

And then the classroom door slammed open.

Lancer stumbled in, bruised, shirt torn like he'd fought through a mob. He pointed at the two of them with wild eyes. "Not so fast!" He called, like he expected them to bolt. They just stood there. "You two lovebirds may be the only students left in the entire school who aren't Ember-obsessed--"

"We're not lovebirds!"

"-- but that won't stop me… from giving you an education!" Lancer stormed over to them and grabbed both by the wrists, hauling them to the door like errant toddlers. Danny shot Sam a sideways look, then glanced ahead as the teacher pulled them from the room and into the hall.

"Distraction in chaos," he muttered. Sam heard it and looked over, shocked that he was doing this even now, but Danny was focused. A small, controlled ecto-beam shot from his index finger, zapping a light in the hall ahead and causing it to burst with a loud pop. Lancer jumped, startled, and Danny took the opportunity.

He grabbed Sam's shoulder with his free hand, turning both invisible and intangible. They stepped lightly aside, unseen, as Lancer reacted to the exploding light bulb with another book-title expletive, and then realized the two of them were gone.

"Lord of the Flies!" They heard him shout as Danny lifted himself and Sam into flight. "They're slipping right through my hands!"

One of the perks of spreading his intangibility to other people or objects was that things became much lighter and easier to carry. This was also the case for flight-- Danny held on to Sam quite easily as they soared over Amity Park toward Bucky's, each one with an arm slung over the other's shoulders for a better grip. The light was warm and golden-- school would have been out even if they hadn't ditched, by now. Sam looked down, eyes wide, letting herself enjoy the view for once.

"It's… really nice up here," she murmured, almost to herself.

Danny looked at her, surprised at the sudden gentleness in her tone after being sharp all day. She caught herself and blushed, fumbling for a cover.

"I mean-- the flying," Sam clarified. "The view. It's just… nice."

Danny gave a faint smile, color rising in his own face. "Yeah. It is."

For a moment, they both soared in a quiet that felt different-- close, warmer. Sam glanced at him like she was about to say more, and Danny's mouth opened at the same time.

"Hey, about earlier--"

"Sam, I didn't mean--"

Both stopped, awkward, then started to laugh under their breath. The tension from earlier was easing, just a little. It was fragile, but real.

"Do not lose focus, Daniel," Vlad's icy voice slid in, low and deliberate. "Sentiment is a distraction you cannot afford."

Danny stiffened, grip tightening around Sam without really meaning to. His expression shuttered and closed off, warmth draining into a tight-jawed seriousness. Sam noticed immediately; the way he was about to let his guard down, and then just… didn't.

"Danny?" She tried, quietly, searching. "You were just--"

"Nothing," he forced out quickly. "Just… I need to stay focused."

She studied him with an unsettled frown. Not pressing, but not quite believing him, either. Danny looked forward, jaw still tight. It was like someone had pulled a curtain down over his face. The almost-apology, the almost-laugh, the almost-something-- they were gone, replaced by the echo of a reprimand.

He's right, Danny thought to himself. I can't let myself get distracted.

Sam exhaled, almost disappointed, knowing he'd just pulled away. She looked back down at the city, the moment slipping through her grasp. She tried to recapture it. "Well," she started tentatively; Danny glanced at her again. "Point is, flying's… nice."

And then they nearly slammed into a massive cardboard cutout of Ember, Danny briefly distracted by Sam's comment. Both teens yelped, Danny peeled hard to the side, and they crash-landed in the dust at its base, their awkward closeness shattered in a much more literal way. Sam had one more flat comment as she dusted herself off.

"Falling stinks."

The inside of the music store was wall-to-wall with teens chanting Ember's name. Giant screens flickered with her image and huge speakers blared her song. Security guards tried to keep order, but it was a lost cause; everyone was trying to get up front. As Danny and Sam entered through the ceiling, a plume of purple smoke erupted on the balcony, revealing Ember basking in the crowd's adoration.

"Tell me who you love!" She crowed.

"Ember! Ember! Ember!"

Her blue-flame hair rose higher, as if gasoline was poured on it. Danny frowned. "Something tells me they're not gonna love their idol getting sucked inside the Fenton Thermos."

"I think I can distract them." Sam pointed at a cutout, signalling to Danny to bring her there.

About a minute and a half later, the crowd gasped-- Sam was sitting on top of the cutout's ear, a red marker in one hand, having vandalized Ember's cardboard face with classic glasses and facial hair.

"Hey everyone, look!" She shouted over the crowd. "It's Ember McLame!"

Ember's hair sputtered briefly, then blazed higher in anger. "Cool beans, a critic," she deadpanned, then smirked, readying her guitar. "Maybe you'll like my new song better!" She twisted a dial--

-- and before she could fire, Danny slammed into her, knocking her down. He started charging a blast.

"Now, Daniel," came Vlad's low, sharp instruction. "Swift and precise-- show her no mercy."

A moment's hesitation, a flicker in his eyes, then he fired. The blast slammed Ember back again with a shriek, interrupting her recovery. Danny hovered in the smoke, cocky for a moment. "Hey! Do you take requests? How about 'Beat It'?"

"How about I just lay down a few power chords instead?!" Ember yelled back, getting hold of her guitar again. She strummed, and a wave of sound studded with skulls hurled him back. The thermos slips from his back, flying uselessly onto a cutout's ear.

"Focus!" Vlad commanded firmly as Danny winced, shaking off the attack. "Hold your ground, keep the pressure. Every wasted second feeds her fire."

Danny steadied with glowing fists. He lunged again, but Ember vanished in a spiral of flames, leaving nothing but smoke. The crowd roared, convinced it was all part of a performance light show. Danny hovered, scanning the crowd, jaw tight. "Great," he grit his teeth. "Just what I needed."

"Better," Vlad remarked. "No hesitation. Remember, Daniel; precision, not spectacle."

Sam peered down from the cutout she was perched on, watching Danny's shoulders square lopsidedly as he took the coaching in stride and looked up toward the ceiling. She wanted to call out, but there was no way he'd hear her over the cheering crowd. To her, he just looked distant again-- less like her friend, and more like a soldier on someone else's leash.

Danny rose through the roof of the building to find Ember, her flaming hair lashing like a whip. She shirked at him.

"Seriously, dipstick?" She taunted. "Don't you have better gigs to crash?"

"Dipstick? Ho ho. Funny." Danny lunged, catching her hands in his, trying to pin her down. He wasn't sure what he planned to do if he succeeded, but maybe Sam would come with the thermos. At least it kept her away from her guitar. "Who writes your insults, the same hack who writes your songs?" Their hands both trembled with effort.

"Good, Daniel." Vlad. "Pin her. Control, don't flail."

But below, the chanting swelled as teens caught a glimpse of their idol atop the building. "Ember! Ember!" She grinned, hair flaring higher, beginning to push harder against Danny, starting to win the test of strength.

"Chanting… makes her stronger," Danny grunted in realization. It wasn't the adoration itself, it was the chant.

"That's right, baby pop," Ember teased back. "The more they chant…" Suddenly she flung him into the giant cardboard cutout, causing it to lean dangerously over the street. "The stronger I get!"

Danny groaned, dazed, standing up from where he'd been thrown. He was sore all over, making it hard to tell if he had a serious injury, but his ghost form was normally pretty hardy.

"Then silence her, boy!" Vlad sounded like he was getting impatient. "Precision, efficiency-- end this before it spirals."

Ember was suddenly there, floating above him, glowing brightly. "And wait until midnight!" She continued. "When the whole world's chanting my name!" She strummed a wave before he could react, knocking Danny into the cutout again. "Then you'll all be my slaves!"

Danny struggled to get up, but collapsed again, the flash of light telling him he'd gone human again. Sparks crackled around him as the cutout began to fall, teetering over the edge of the building. If he didn't have a serious injury before, he almost definitely had one now.

The rooftop access suddenly opened, and Sam burst onto the scene, holding the thermos. "Get away from him!"

Ember smirked, looking away from the struggling boy to the goth girl. She twisted her guitar dial as Sam rushed to stand between her and Danny. "Aw, teen love. They say it never lasts." The ghost idol looked from her guitar to her two opponents, mischief in her eyes. "Nothing distracts teenagers more than hormones. And I need to keep hero boy busy for the next eight hours." She strummed before Sam could react. "How about a love song?"

A tidal wave of pink energy and hearts surged across the roof, catching both Sam and Danny in its wake. Sam was hurled backward, screaming, barely catching on to the side of the cutout hanging over the edge. Danny, however, took the wave head-on-- he wasn't thrown, but his eyes flickered pink and glazed over. His jaw slackened into a goofy smile.

"Danny…?" Sam called uncertainly.

"Keep on truckin', hero boy," Ember teased as Danny turned toward Sam, a dreamy expression on his face. "Right outta my way."

Danny ignored Ember, just crawling toward Sam on the cutout groaning under the shift of weight. "Wow," he started dreamily. "I never realized… you're really pretty when you're about to fall off a building."

Sam clung to the edge, terror in her eyes as she slowly realized what had happened. She glanced down to the honking traffic as the cutout began to shift, tilting further. "Danny, stop!" She pleaded. "You've gotta help me! Go ghost, fly us out of here!"

But Danny just kept crawling, oblivious to any danger either of them might be in.

"Daniel, control yourself!" Vlad snapped urgently in his ear. "This is weakness. She is using you. Do not debase yourself like this-- focus!"

Danny didn't so much as twitch. For the first time in a month, Vlad's words hit a brick wall. His voice cut off mid-reprimand, a stunned silence lingering where it should have been. The boy just kept inching closer, eyes fixed only on Sam, leaving her stranded and panicked as the cutout creaked louder.

Ember's laughter echoed in the evening as she phased back through the roof into Bucky's, leaving her spell behind to work its magic.

The cardboard cutout of Ember slipped more and more as weight was shifted to the hanging side; the crowd below finally seemed to notice what was happening and gasped as they saw little more than a teenage girl clinging desperately to one edge, hair whipping in the wind. What the onlookers didn't see was the boy approaching her, now standing, actively endangering her because a ghost's spell had inflicted him with a terrible case of puppy love.

Blasted banshee.

Vlad had now visually manifested, if for no other reason than to try to catch Daniel's attention better, snap him out of this trance. If the boy saw him, he ignored his mentor, just walking toward Samantha like a zombie.

"Danny, stop!" The girl begged. "Don't come any closer!"

"But you're over there, and I'm over here," was the dazed reply. "I wanna be over there."

"Wait-- no." Samantha finally seemed to realize. Her eyes narrowed. "I know that look. That's the same puppy-dog stare you give Paulina."

"Who's Paulina?"

The girl froze in stunned silence, before muttering, "Okay, that's a pleasant side effect."

Teenagers and their inability to focus for more than ten seconds. If Vlad was visible to anyone other than Daniel he'd be yelling at both of them. As it was… "Daniel, enough of this nonsense!" He told the boy with sharp urgency, floating up alongside him. "Ember clouds your mind. Focus! Take control before you both fall!"

Daniel didn't react. He stumbled another step forward, utterly enchanted. The cutout creaked dangerously as weight shifted. The girl shrieked, scrambling to hang on.

"Danny, when I said I wanted you to pay attention to me, this is not what I meant!" Panic had mixed with a stressed anger. Daniel just smiled at her, oblivious and infatuated.

"Daniel!" Vlad shouted, hoping volume would help. "She is dangling from death and you-- you stand there, simpering like a fool! Obey me-- wake up!" He hadn't quite meant to let the last part of that slip, but it didn't seem to matter. Daniel still didn't react.

Samantha's grip finally slipped. She screamed as she fell backward, and even the crowd gasped. For one heart-stopping second, Daniel only stared after her, whispering something incoherent, but then a gloved SWAT agent's hand snatched her wrist from a dangling rope ladder. Even Vlad hadn't noticed the helicopter in all the noise and panic. If it hadn't been there…

Two more agents swarmed Daniel's side of the cutout, danging more rope ladders. The boy blinked, dazed, unresisting but also not moving for the ladders. Vlad's voice slashed through the haze again, raw with a desperation that edged into panic. "Daniel! Listen to me! You are losing yourself--" his voice cracked just the smallest bit-- "Do not make me watch you throw it all away!"

But Daniel just swayed on the cardboard, oblivious to it all-- to Vlad, to the SWAT agents trying to get him onto the ladders, to the chaos below. For once, Vlad's grip didn't seem to hold. The silence after the outburst felt somehow heavier than the crowd's noise.

Taking a breath, Vlad tried again, his voice low and pleading. "Daniel, please. You're stronger than this. Come back to yourself. Do not make me watch you fall."

The boy didn't react-- just blinked hazily at the object of his infatuation as she was hauled to safety. It didn't seem to matter if it was command or coaxing; nothing was working.

The Ember cutout finally snapped, thankfully not the side holding a dazed teenage boy, and slammed down onto a bus and scattering police blockades. The crowd screamed and scattered. He glared down at their incompetence and looked back at his pupil, who seemed lost without the girl to point his compass.

Vlad's voice faltered with something uncharacteristically raw, then sharpened again, covering the slip with brittle irritation. "Snap out of it, boy! Do not make me intervene more directly." He wasn't even sure if that was supposed to be a proper threat or not.

The SWAT agents had finally decided to just grab Daniel and bring him down to the ground themselves. Even then, surrounded by students being corralled, parents shouting, and Lancer for some reason standing on a bus with his megaphone, the boy just stood there dreamily.

"By authority of the Emergency Mass Grounding Act, you are all under arrest!" Lancer shouted as if he actually had the authority to declare it.

"How did Lancer even get the SWAT team out here?" Samantha questioned from nearby, having apparently been placed in the crowd. She was grimacing, clearly displeased.

Of course, Daniel heard her immediately, and his attention snapped to her with a too-wide smile. "Sam! You're here too!"

The girl shook her head and yelled furiously. "Danny, quit staring at me like a lovesick goldfish and do something!"

The boy tilted his head and mumbled something. Vlad interjected, clipped and scathing. "I swear," he hissed through his teeth, "If you waste everything I've taught you for a girl's smile--"

But he cut himself off, knowing by now it wasn't any use. The boy was thrown into one of the many armored cars brought along for this overeager raid, to be shipped off to his parents with his sister. He was the only one in the car not blathering on about Ember, and that should have been a relief. It wasn't. Hundreds of kids entranced by an upstart ghost, and Daniel was one of only two children not chanting her name. Vlad wished it was as simple as that.

The SWAT van screeched to a halt outside Fentonworks, and clearly the agents had no respect for due process, because they simply slammed the door open and threw the Fenton children roughly inside. They landed hard on the floor, Jasmine still donning Ember apparel-- how was a girl so aware of ghosts also so vulnerable to them?-- and Daniel barely reacting to the rough treatment. Cujo barked from somewhere deeper in the house at the noise.

Maddie approached first, and Vlad couldn't even enjoy it this time. "What is the matter with you kids?" She demanded, hands on her hips. "You should be studying for the Northwestern Nine, not running wild with that Ember nonsense!"

Daniel propped himself up on his elbows, staring dreamily at nothing. "How can I study? All I can think about is Sam…"

Jasmine huffed at him. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you thinking about Ember?"

Jack stepped forward, arms crossed as he loomed over them. "Well, I'm thinking about putting you both in the Fenton Stockades!"

"Stockades?!" If anyone could drip venom while being thoroughly shocked, it was Vlad. "For your own children? Jack, you dangerous idiot--"

The oaf dragged his entire family downstairs, down past the lab, into what could only be described as a proper dungeon. Stone walls, chains dangling from the ceiling, stockades tucked in the corner-- but the stockades weren't what Jack stopped next to and proudly displayed. No, that would be the upright, metal coffin, with sharp spikes lining the inside.

"Jack!" Maddie scolded. "We can't put our children in some medieval torture device."

For a moment Vlad forgot all about his plans for Daniel; all he could see was a boy being threatened with a device intentionally crafted to prolong suffering before death. "That--" He began, appalled and angry, "that isn't a stockade. That's an iron maiden. Unbelievable." He looked at Daniel helplessly. "Even I would never put you in something like that, Daniel. Of all the reckless, irresponsible…"

Daniel actually flinched at the words this time, but didn't speak.

"-- Ah, so you can still hear me," Vlad interrupted himself, sighing in quiet relief. "Good. I can… work with that."

In the meantime, Jack was pouting. Actually pouting about being unable to put his children in a torture chamber. "Oh, all right. We'll just ground you like everyone else."

If Vlad was physically there he might have killed Jack on the spot.

Jasmine snapped upright, defiant. "I'm going to Ember's midnight concert, and there's nothing you can do about it!" She snapped, grabbing her brother's arm. The boy had just been staring at the floor, but now he blinked, startled back for a split second. Maddie intercepted, grabbing both children by the collars of their shirts.

"You and your brother are not leaving this house, young lady!"

Vlad scoffed. "Do you see it now, Daniel? They don't guide you. They don't protect you. They would rather hurt you than understand you."

"Fenton Stockaaades!" Jack boomed, singsong.

Maddie let go of the children and shoved Jack into the iron maiden herself, slamming the door closed on him.

"I meant them!"

"Monstrous fool," Vlad muttered, following Daniel as the boy walked up the stairs to his room. "Serves him right. What is that room even for?"

To his surprise, Daniel actually answered-- not loudly, but less quiet than he usually would. "Ghosts," was all he said. It was hard to define the inflection, if one existed at all.

Vlad stared-- first at Daniel actually answering, and second at the implication. If his parents ever discovered the boy's powers… "Daniel, listen to me," Vlad started, voice less polished than usual, ragged around the edges. "Do not think this is normal. Do not forgive it. You deserve better than the threat of a torture room. Better than parents like them."

Daniel seemed overwhelmed, and pressed his palms over his face as he muttered something incoherent. Vlad fell silent, but the fury lingered in the quiet, heavy and unresolved. He made one final comment, voice bitter.

"And still you ignore me."

Sam's room was her usual black and red color palette, massive four-poster bed, metal and punk decor, a blackout curtain shut uselessly against the faint noise of Ember mania. She hadn't bothered with the moody candle lighting, instead just turning on the dangling ceiling lamp, making it brighter than usual in the space. She kicked aside her headphones as she paced furiously, frustration boiling over.

"Danny's useless," she muttered angrily, "Tucker's brainwashed, and I'm stuck holding this whole mess together when I can't even leave the house."

A voice cut through her monologue, smooth and deliberate. "No one should bear that weight alone, Miss Manson."

Sam whirled around-- Vlad was suddenly there, leaning against her desk like he owned the place. How-- did he just phase in like any other ghost and she didn't notice, or could he just teleport now? She stared for a moment, and then her expression shifted. The girl stomped up to him, glaring daggers.

"What-- get out of my room!" She snapped. "Do you just break into people's houses for fun, or is this just part of your whole creepy routine?"

Vlad barely reacted, staying calm and infuriatingly amused. "Consider it… an illustration," he replied. "I go where I please. But tonight, I came because you need me."

"Need you?" Sam snarled back, before she unloaded all the anger and frustration of the past few weeks on him. "Don't flatter yourself, Vlad. You've been poisoning Danny's head for weeks! He used to listen to us-- his friends-- but now it's all your mantras and your smug little lessons." She briefly stopped jabbing a finger into his chest to give air quotes. "He doesn't hear us anymore, he only hears you. I don't know how to reach him anymore, and you're the reason why!"

Vlad didn't reply yet, simply letting her rail against him and get it out of her system. His expression was patient, lightly amused, with his hands folded loosely behind his back. She glared harder, as if it would rattle him.

"And don't even think for one second I'm going to fall for whatever game this is," she continued. "You don't care about us. You care about control. You care about Danny being your little puppet."

Something flicked across his expression for one instant, and was gone the next, so quickly Sam wasn't sure she had even seen it. "You're right," he finally answered, the picture of composure-- soft, deliberate, not defensive. "Daniel does hear me. Because I give him the tools he needs." Something in his eyes definitely darkened this time. "Tools his parents never could. But," Vlad leaned forward, voice dropping, the darkness gone, "he still needs you. I can guide his power, Miss Manson, but only you can ground his heart. He listens to me because I see what he could become, but you-- he listens to you because he needs someone to keep him human."

Sam froze for a half second, thrown by the sincerity in his tone, and yet still convinced he was just masking. She shook her head sharply, replying flatly. "If you think I'm just going to roll over and trust you--"

"Not trust," he interjected. "Use. Use me, as I intend to use you." He moved on like that wasn't the most manipulative statement in existence. "Ember is dangerous, clever, and growing stronger with each hour." Vlad paused, looking at her appraisingly. "Do you want to waste precious time scolding me, or will you accept an ally when one presents himself?"

Her fists clenched as she held the man's stare, glare still searing and indignant. The tension hung heavy, and yet Vlad stood steady, letting her feel that he wasn't flinching, not fighting-- only offering a steady hand, an alliance she knew she'd be an idiot to dismiss. They held the silence for several seconds before Sam finally caved, her voice cracking with frustration more than conviction.

"I hate that you make sense."

Vlad allowed a small, knowing smile to curl his lips. "It's one of my more irritating qualities."

It was a short trip to Fentonworks. If Vlad had teleported in to Sam's room, he didn't do so now; she was forced to let him fly her there invisibly, nervous he'd intentionally drop her the whole time. But the man seemed to stay true to his word; he wanted to help, and letting her fall wasn't going to move that along. And so it was a tense, silent trip before they phased in through the wall of Danny's room.

She almost wished Vlad had dropped her. The boy was sitting cross-legged on his bed surrounded by what photos he had of her, and a few things she didn't know he had and didn't feel like puzzling out why or how he had them. Danny was slowly, softly chanting her name like a mantra. As soon as she and Vlad touched down on Danny's carpet and turned visible again, he snapped his attention to her with a bright smile.

"Sam! You snuck out to see me!" Danny exclaimed, not seeming to notice Vlad there. "Oh, this is just like Romeo and Juliet, except I'm the one on the balcony… and I can understand everything we're saying."

Sam groaned, then approached and shook him by the shoulders. "Danny, will you knock it off? We have to stop Ember before she brainwashes the whole planet!"

Danny stood, still smiling. "As long as we have each other, none of that matters!" He grabbed her hands, holding their fists up between them.

"This isn't you, Danny," She pressed. "You don't feel that way about me, and I don't feel that way about you!"

He tilted his head, still in that dreamy daze. "Then why are you still holding my hands?"

Sam glanced down to see that she was still gripping his wrists after he'd grabbed her, and threw them down with a growl.

Vlad finally stepped in, interrupting with a firm voice edged with too much command for Sam's comfort. "Daniel, control yourself!" The boy blinked at the voice, wavering. "Your judgement is clouded. You must resist."

"Danny, this isn't romantic, this is mind control!" Sam added.

If Vlad had brought his mind to the surface, Sam's voice made the spell drag him back down. He gave her a goofy smile. "Wow. You're really pretty when you're yelling at me."

Sam facepalmed. Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. "He gets this from Jack, I swear…"

"Focus, Vlad!" She snapped at him. "If you're supposed to be so smart, fix him!"

"I cannot 'fix him'." With a long-suffering sigh, Vlad straightened, smoothing his expression back to calm authority. "Her type is not unknown," he continued, tone back into lecture mode. "A banshee spirit, affecting others and feeding through song." He made a hand gesture to punctuate his point. "The chant strengthens her hold. The longer it continues, the more absolute it becomes."

"Great," Sam started pacing angrily, Danny's eyes tracking her like a puppy's. "So Ember's got the whole school chanting her name, and Danny's stuck like this--"

"You mean, stuck with you," the boy interjected happily. "Lucky me!"

Vlad's tone sharpened, frustration and something a little harsher breaking through. "Daniel, listen!" He snapped. "This enchantment will end when Ember is defeated. But if you yield to it now, you risk more than yourself-- you risk her." He nodded to Sam.

It landed, if just faintly. Danny blinked, then looked at Sam, puzzled. "Does this mean we're breaking up?"

Sam threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "How can we break up? We were never together!"

Danny didn't have a response to that, and just pouted, seeming confused. Sam sighed, running her hand down the side of her face-- then realized something. She looked at Vlad.

"Wait, you-- you said she affects people through song, right?" She asked.

"Correct," Vlad replied simply, as if it wasn't obvious just from the way Ember had fought.

"That's it!" Sam was excited now. "That's why I'm not under Ember's spell." She pulled her hair back to reveal the earbuds she'd worn all day. "The Fenton Phones block ghost noise!"

"Precisely," Vlad confirmed, voice approving but somehow tired. "A clever deduction."

Danny beamed and interrupted. "So we're not breaking up?"

Sam gave a noise halfway between a growl and an exasperated laugh. "Unbelievable." She grabbed Danny by the wrist and yanked him toward the door, with him stumbling dreamily after her. "Come on. We'll deprogram you like we did Tucker." And she stopped cold, realizing. "… Oh god, Tucker!"

Vlad followed as she dragged the boy out, watching carefully with an unreadable expression. His voice dipped low, soft in a way it hadn't before, as he addressed Danny. "Hold fast, little badger," he whispered. "Just a little longer."

Danny giggled, dazed. "You said 'hold hands', right? Cause I'm really good at that."

Sam groaned, hauling him out the door. Vlad suppressed a sigh, smoothed his expression, and followed.

The classroom was dark when they found Tucker, still tied to the chair, CramTastic helmet still plastered on his head. The screen was the only thing lighting the room, blinding in the boy's face. The three entered the room, with Vlad hanging back in the shadows as Danny and Sam hurried to Tucker's side. Danny, at least, looked focused and worried, his best friend's wellbeing momentarily overriding the spell. He pulled off Tucker's helmet as Sam undid the ropes.

"Twelve… hours… of… intensive standardized test prep," Tucker mumbled, teeth chattering.

"Tucker, I'm so sorry!" Sam apologized, guilt in her voice and expression.

Danny was immediately distracted, leaning against her. "You're beautiful when you're wracked with guilt."

"Not now, Danny."

The moment the rope was untied, Tucker bolted upright and pulled his friends into a group hug. Sam stiffened; Danny just let it happen. "Man, it's about time!" He exclaimed. "I always knew you two would end up together."

"We're not together," Sam corrected, pushing Tucker away. "Ember's got him under some kind of spell."

"So…" Tucker looked at her, then pointed at Danny, "you don't want to end up together?"

"I-- I don't know!" Sam threw her hands up. "Maybe! But not like this!" Danny just leaned dreamily on her shoulder, as if it was confirmation. In the background, Vlad cleared his throat sharply; Danny's eyes widened and he instinctively jerked back upright. Sam shot Vlad a glare before turning back to Tucker. "Tucker, please-- we have to break the spell."

Frowning, the boy picked up the CramTastic helmet and plopped it on Danny's head. "Then let's crank up the story problems and we'll see him in twelve hours."

"We don't have twelve hours," Sam gestured frantically to the nearby wall clock. "Ember's concert starts in like twenty minutes. If she gets the whole world chanting her name, she'll be unstoppable!"

Vlad stepped closer, voice even but with an edge. "She's correct," he confirmed. "This enchantment will only unravel when Ember herself is brought down. Delay, and Daniel will remain…" he made a vague gesture to the boy, "… compromised."

Sam scowled at him but said nothing. Tucker didn't even seem to hear Vlad, instead just yanking the helmet off Danny again and tossing it aside. "Then we better bolt down to that show and crank down the volume!" Suddenly he paused, then blurted, "The volume of a sphere is equal to the square of the radius of the base times pi times the height."

Danny blinked in his daze. Sam stared. Vlad, meanwhile, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That would be the volume of a cylinder, Mr Foley."

Tucker froze, eyes wide, finally noticing the man's presence in the dark shadows of the room. He gave a weak laugh, startled. "Ha… since when have you been there?"

Sam just groaned, dragging Danny and Tucker back toward the exit. Vlad followed, a faint smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, masking an otherwise unreadable, guarded expression.

The concert hall parking lot glowed with floodlights and neons, advertising the upcoming performance. Teens decked in Ember merch crowded the entrance, chattering with excitement. A billboard loomed above: Ember, mid-strum, her hair blazing. Security guards dressed in yellow scanned the kids as they filtered inside. In the shadows at the edge of the lot, the group phased in through the pavement-- Vlad primarily directing it, but Danny seemed mostly focused for the moment.

"Go kill the power," Sam hissed to Tucker. "We'll stand watch."

Tucker darted toward the staff-only side door. Sam and Danny followed more slowly, creeping in when nobody appeared to stop Tucker. Vlad stepped behind them quietly, choosing to turn invisible-- just in case. With nothing to keep him focused, Danny just stared at Sam happily.

She noticed. "Uh, can you watch something besides me?"

The boy blinked, then pulled out a photo of Sam he must have brought from his room, and stared at it with the same dazed happiness. Sam groaned.

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose, still invisible. "Daniel, honestly," he chided. "You're supposed to protect your friends, not moon over them while the world collapses."

Sam blinked as if surprised that was what Vlad chose to focus on, but Danny beamed like he'd been given permission. "Right! Protect. Got it." A pause. "Protect Sam." He stared at the photo again.

"Danny, come on, that's not what he meant," Sam tried to tell him.

"Sure it is!" Danny replied cheerfully. "Protect you! I can do that."

"Close enough," Vlad muttered, exasperated.

Tucker skidded into the empty control room, rushing up to the terminal and scanning the board of knobs and switches. Okay, he wasn't sure what anything here did. It was like the Specter Speeder all over again. But the boy spotted a red switch that read "PA SYSTEM". That probably did something, right?

"Okay, cutting off the power…" Tucker mumbled, flipping the switch. The amps out in the concert hall crackled audibly with feedback. That… probably wasn't turning off the power. But he blinked, suddenly blurting, "Electrical power equals electrical current times electrical potential." He shook his head hard with a groan. "Man, I gotta stop doing that."

Outside, the group heard Tucker's voice echo from the speakers lining the building-- and if they did, so did Ember. The sound of pounding footsteps caught them off guard as "security" burst into the hallway. It would probably have been more intimidating if the security wasn't the jock A-Listers, Dash, Kwan, and Dale.

Of course, not intimidating didn't mean not strong. Dash and Kwan lunged, grabbing hold of Sam and Danny respectively, while Dale peeled off toward the control room. Dash held Sam firmly by the shoulders, while Kwan had an unresisting Danny in a chokehold that was probably entirely not necessary, and that was when Sam noticed Vlad… wasn't there?

"Mindless lapdogs," the man's voice muttered as if in answer to that line of thought. He actually sounded angry. "Of course Ember would reduce them to this…"

At that moment, Dale dragged Tucker in by the arm, with Tucker mumbling some nonsense about "if a train moving at twenty-five miles an hour leaves Station A…". Invisibly, Vlad raised a hand, already forming an ectoplasmic beam… but hesitated, waiting, calculating. It proved to be a good decision when Ember stormed in, holding her guitar and looking at the kids like they were roadkill.

She turned toward the exit to the concert stage, like she was just in there to check. "Later, dipsticks," the ghost taunted. "I gotta go rock my world. And when I say my world, I mean my world!" Ember left, hair blazing, arms raised to the crowd's cheers as if it was all a performance.

Sam twisted against Dash's hold, trying to break free as Danny just slumped, the haze flickering but not gone.

Suddenly all three of the bully-security kids jolted and dropped, and the kids whirled around to see Vlad-- no longer invisible, ectoplasm trailing out of his empty hands. He glanced at Danny in particular. "That, my boy, is called a Ghost Stinger," the man stated offhandedly.

Choosing to ignore for now the fact that Vlad had apparently just zapped three teenagers into unconsciousness, Sam rounded on Danny, trying to shake him back to reality. "Danny, stop her now!"

The boy shook his head, dazed but defiant. "I won't leave you, Sam."

Vlad leaned down to speak into Danny's ear, but all three of them could hear his sharp tone. "Daniel, think. That banshee feeds on devotion. Every second she plays, she draws more power." He paused for effect. "And who do you think she'll burn first once she's strong enough?"

Danny's breath hitched as Vlad nodded toward Sam.

"Forget about me!" The girl urged.

"I can't! … I won't!"

"No, you must," Vlad insisted, urgent. He sighed lightly. "You don't understand yet, but this… this drive inside you?" The man poked Danny's chest with a finger. "It is your Obsession. It defines you. So act on it, Daniel. If you don't, she'll take Sam from you. Forever."

Danny grit his teeth as he processed that. His blue, human eyes suddenly flared into the glowing green of his ghost form; he even seemed to take on the white glow he normally had as a ghost, even if it was fainter. The dreamy haze gave way to fury.

"Ember…" the boy growled.

Shocked at the sudden intensity in her friend, Sam recoiled a little, then looked at Vlad, who was watching Danny with something like unsettling satisfaction. "You…" she started quietly, warily. "You're doing this to him."

"I'm guiding him," Vlad corrected quietly, something strangely soft under his tone. "Would you rather see him useless and lovesick, or ready to fight?"

The boy in question breathed hard, clenching his fists, glowing eyes locked on the stage as Ember prepared to perform. Even as he was shaking, the glow around him flared brighter.

Vlad leaned in. "Yes, that's it, little badger," he coaxed, like he was convincing a fire to burn. "Don't waste yourself on puppy love. Protect what matters. Protect her."

"Danny…?" Sam tried, not sure if her voice would cause something to snap. "Are you okay?"

"No." Danny looked at her sharply, but the edge only lasted a fraction of a second before it softened with something both more and less intense than the infatuation he'd given her all night. "I feel like my heart's being ripped out." He redirected all that contained something to the teen idol on stage as she began to sing. "But I know who I can take it out on!"

"It was, it was September…" the lyrics bloomed from the stage. "Winds blow, the dead leaves fall…"

He lunged forward before the transformation even finished, rings blazing brightly around him and ripping him into his ghost form. Sam and Tucker both stumbled back as the resulting shockwave knocked into them-- but Sam couldn't help but smile, relieved to see Danny back in action.

Vlad lingered behind for a moment, satisfaction tempered by a flicker of something rawer and softer. "Yes…" he mumbled with something like pride, "that's my boy." He had vanished before Sam could look over at his tone, her smile fading into confusion as Danny rocketed toward his target.

"Your life goes on without me, my life, a losing game…"

The arena was packed, lights blazing. Ember commanded the stage, already singing, hair flaring as the crowd was already chanting in full force. The sound made the walls shake. The ghost idol's band simply played backup mindlessly, the focus on the singer-guitarist who was too busy watching and working the crowd to pay attention to the children she thought were already dealt with.

"But you should, you should not doubt me…"

"Ember! Ember! Ember!" The crowd chanted, over and over again.

"You will remember--"

The lyric was abruptly cut off and the crowd gasped as Danny burst onto the stage, a black and silver blur that rammed straight into Ember's side and knocked her upward into the stage lighting. His ambient glow was brighter than ever, his hands sparking with ectoplasmic energy that danced across his jumpsuit, barely controlled.

"Hey, No-Hit Wonder!" The boy shouted as Ember snarled at him, hair mussed. "Mind if I jam with the band?"

"Get this straight, dipstick!" She roared back, grabbing her guitar and floating in the air. "I don't do duets!" The ghost girl snarled, strumming a chord that sent a green wave at Danny, shaped like a fist.

The boy braced, preparing a shield-- but then Vlad phased in beside him in his own ghost form, doing the same. The pair threw overlapping shields up, the blast breaking against them in a shockwave, the barriers not so much as wavering.

"Focus, Daniel!" Vlad instructed, low and sharp, but somehow carrying over the roaring crowd. "Precision, then force. Break her rhythm."

Without even thinking about it, Danny nodded sharply, gave a quick "Got it!", and the two pushed forward. They moved in tandem and split focus-- Vlad going high, Danny aiming low. Ember blocked an energy slash from Vlad, only for Danny to sweep under her defenses with a flying kick, knocking her back. The style was markedly sharper than his usual scrappy brawling-- measured, efficient, ruthless. It carried something like a contained fury that he'd never shown in a fight before, and Sam noticed from backstage.

"He's fighting… like Vlad," she breathed. Tucker looked at her briefly, before his eyes turned back to the pair of half-ghosts with something resembling awe.

Ember's hair blazed higher as she strummed again. A storm of flaming notes burst across the stage toward Danny, but Vlad phased around and struck her from behind while Danny pressed forward, head-on against the attack with a brutal white-green ecto blast. The rockstar staggered under the combined power and seamless coordination of her opponents; for a moment, she looked rattled.

"Yes! Like that!" Under the strain, there was definitely pride in Vlad's shout. "Strike decisively!"

Danny's eyes burned bright. He prepared a massive energy blast as Vlad harried Ember from the other end of the stage. Time to end it, the boy thought, all of his hesitation against the enemy gone like smoke in a storm. The blast shot forward at the same time as Vlad slammed Ember with his own attack, red and green and white blazing into the blue of Ember's form and colliding with enough force to send her crashing into her own amplifiers. The shockwave from the resulting explosion knocked half the crowd to their knees, snapping the chant off mid-word.

The spell shattered like dropped glass.

The crowd fell silent, dazed, confused, now nothing more than hundreds of teenagers shaking their heads and wondering why they were here. Danny landed heavily, panting hard. Needing to recover from being freed from the spell himself might have been a bad thing mid-fight if not for two important factors: one, Vlad was there, and two, Ember seemed to have lost control of the battle.

The ghost scrambled out of the shell of the speaker, singed, bruised, hair guttering down to a weak flame. "No! No! Say my name!" The crowd stared. "Come on, say it! Say my name!"

There was no response. The fever had broken. Ember looked around in disbelief, panic creeping in on her face.

"Your audience is gone, Ms McLain," Vlad grabbed her by the neck with a cold calm. "The show is over."

"The only thing we're saying here," Danny added, stepping forward and uncapping the Fenton Thermos, "is goodbye."

Vlad threw Ember forward, where the beam from the thermos caught her. With a wail and no small amount of kicking and screaming, she was dragged in, swallowed by the light and finally caged somewhere she couldn't sing her way out of. The concert hall fell quiet, silence only broken by the sparking of damaged equipment and the bursts of smoke that the band members vanished in.

Danny capped the thermos, chest heaving, energy still sparking around him but fading as he calmed himself.. A hushed whisper fell over the arena, unsettled onlookers watching the two ghosts, unsure if they should cheer or scream after that very public display of power. For just a moment, Vlad looked over at Danny-- not with smugness, not with cold calculation, but with pride. Sam started forward, her motion catching Vlad's eye, and he immediately masked his expression, leaving her not sure what she'd even seen on it.

Both ghosts phased backstage and out of sight, leaving the crowd to its murmuring.

The noise of the crowd dwindled to uneasy, confused chatter once Danny and Vlad were out of sight. Backstage, the four of them regrouped in a quiet corner littered with cables and folded chairs. Both of the half-ghosts morphed human; Danny peeked around the corner to see the teens filing out of the building. He leaned against the wall, still holding the thermos, looking shaky and winded.

"I… I almost…" He started, then looked at the others. "Sam, I almost let her--"

His voice cracked, and the boy looked down at his hands. Sam and Tucker moved closer, trying to steady him, still rattled but supportive.

"You didn't," Sam assured him firmly. "That's what matters."

Danny forced a weak smile, but it didn't stick. He glanced at Vlad, who kept a respectful distance from the gaggle of teens, composed but giving the strangest sense that he was reining himself in. The man spoke, his tone gentler than usual, but edged with self-control. "You were compromised, Daniel. Nothing more." He looked toward the wall that separated the stage from this room. "What matters is how you fought once you saw clearly. You were decisive. Effective."

The boy gulped, not entirely reassured. The last eight hours were somewhat hazy, but he remembered how brutal he'd been in that fight. His gaze flicked down. Sam noticed, her eyes narrowing slightly, also having seen how different Danny's fighting had been.

"Yeah, uh," Tucker tried to laugh awkwardly, "decisive is one word for it. I thought you were about to suplex her into the ground, dude."

Danny let out a breathy laugh before running a hand down his face, emotionally drained if not physically. "I don't know what came over me. It felt…" Strange. Unsettling. Exhilarating.

Vlad stepped closer, as if sensing Danny's thoughts. "What came over you was resolve," he stated, lowering his voice. Danny looked up at him. "A glimpse of your potential." A light exhale. "That kind of clarity is rare, Daniel. Don't waste time doubting it."

He didn't answer right away, just looking at Vlad for a beat before lowering his gaze to stare at the floor, slightly ashamed at his own train of thought.

Sam looked between them, picking up on the subtle shift but not knowing how to describe it-- it wasn't just Danny responding more to Vlad's voice than his own friends', but… that still felt like part of it, even now. And Tucker hadn't seemed to notice, just Sam. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't call it out. Not yet. Not here. Not when Danny was still recovering from all of it.

Finally, Danny exhaled and closed his eyes, slumping against the wall. "I just…" He paused, then seemed to mostly speak to himself as he finished. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Not you guys." Not again.

Sam squeezed his shoulder, trying to ground him. Vlad's expression flickered, just for a moment, the mask slipped-- something sharper, more personal laid behind it. He schooled his face quickly, but when he spoke, his voice still carried a raw edge.

"Then learn control," he replied. "That is how you protect them. That is how you protect yourself."

Danny opened his eyes, caught between relief, guilt, and unease. The entire day had just been draining. He felt sore in places he didn't know he'd taken hits, had sweat soaking the fringes of his hair. But at least his friends and his mentor weren't at each others' throats this time.

The classroom the next day was stiff, quiet, and exhausted. Students sat at their desks, most seeming chagrined or sleepy, CramTastic helmets perched on their desks and waiting to be used. Lancer and Principal Ishiyama loomed at the head of the room, the former clutching a stack of test results and looking displeased-- and not just because he still had a black eye from yesterday.

"These standardized test scores are the worst in school history," he reprimanded flatly, slamming the papers onto the desk for emphasis. "No doubt thanks to your late-night obsession with that wretched noise pollution."

He let that sink in for a moment, before giving a resigned sigh and picking up the top two papers of the stack.

"However," Lancer continued with forced dignity, "two perfect scores did salvage the school average. Which is good news for my bonus." There was a beat. "Mr Foley. Mr Fenton."

The class murmured. Tucker leapt to his feet, arms raised triumphantly. "Yes! Vindication!" He crowed. "Twelve hours of brain-melting CramTastic actually paid off! Ladies, form an orderly line!"

A few of the nerd-girls giggled. Danny, meanwhile, sat frozen in his chair as Lancer handed his test back to him, staring at the neat, red "100" scrawled at the top. He didn't smile.

Sam caught it immediately and narrowed her eyes. "Since when do you ace standardized tests?"

Danny shrugged awkwardly, gripping his pencil too tightly. "I just… focused, I guess." The words rang hollow.

In his ear, Vlad's voice purred with indulgent satisfaction. "See, Daniel?" He remarked softly, with a trace of pride that sounded like it should be coming from a parent. "Precision. Discipline. With me, even your mind sharpens-- even if I must feed you half of the answers myself. They should be thanking me."

He flinched slightly, trying not to show it by shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Mr Foley and Mr Fenton are excused from this afternoon's remedial CramTastic session," Ishiyama announced. "The rest of you will report as scheduled." A groan rippled through the class.

The bell rang at that moment. Students rose with chatter. Tucker basked in the little attention he was getting, while Danny lingered, staring at his test. Sam didn't let it go, stepping closer.

"You're not proud," she observed, voice low. "You're spooked. Why"

Danny hesitated, unable to answer. Vlad's voice slid over him again, quieter but firm. "Do not falter, Daniel. This is proof you're becoming what you must be. Hold on to that."

He gripped the edge of the desk, then finally stood, forcing a weak smile and a casual, practiced "Nothing, it's fine" at his friends. The unease lingered in his eyes, but he was this far in already. He'd get used to it. Eventually.

They took that evening to relax and unwind somewhere away from the pressures that wracked teenagers-- social, academic, and familial. This meant the park, and so the trio sat at their usual bench with some quick dinner from Nasty Burger. Cujo was curled against Danny's thigh, tail thumping the bench softly on occasion. They ate their food in a slightly tense silence, the air still heavy with everything that happened.

"I'm just saying," Tucker grinned, trying to break the quiet, "perfect score, Ember gone. And technically, that helmet works! Twelve hours of pure torture, but hey. Totally worth it." He took a big bite from his burger.

"Yeah, and you earned it," Danny gave a genuine smile as he snuck a fry to Cujo, who snapped it up happily. Then his face sobered, and he looked at Sam. "But… I couldn't have done any of it without Vlad," he commented quietly. "He saw things I didn't. Got me out of that haze when no one else could."

Sam leaned back, unimpressed. "Yeah, by putting his own haze over you. Ever think of that?" She folded her arms, sighing. "You don't even hear yourself, Danny. Half of the stuff you said before that spell? Straight out of his mouth."

"So what if it was?" Danny asked earnestly, not denying it. "He's not wrong. He told me Ember was the threat, and he was right. He taught me how to train Cujo. He helped me defeat Spectra. He got me out of ghost prison." He sighed, trying to cool his tone back down to normal. "He helped me focus when everything was… messed up."

She exhaled, turning away to watch Tucker pick up a confused Cujo to snap a selfie with the dog. "He's not helping you, Danny," she tried to press. "He's getting inside your head. That's worse than Ember, it's even worse than Spectra."

Danny gently took Cujo back from Tucker, settling the puppy on his lap to scratch his ears. His voice is still soft, a little defensive, but sincere. "Sam, he saved us," he reminded her. "He saved me. You saw it. Without him, I'd have stayed under that spell, and Ember would be ruling the world." He smiled tiredly down at his dog. "Doesn't that count for something?"

Sam glanced at him, caught between anger and the fact that she couldn't deny what Danny was saying. She didn't answer right away, and he took that as his cue to continue, leaning in to Cujo licking his hand like it was an anchor.

"He's the only one who can teach me control," he continued. "The only one who makes me feel like I'm… not just fumbling around in the dark."

The girl softened slightly at the raw vulnerability in her best friend's voice, but her frown persisted. "Or he's making you believe that," she retorted, but less sharply. "People like Vlad… they don't just give gifts without strings. You know that, right?"

Danny gave a faint, but genuine, smile as he looked at her. "Maybe. But I don't care if there are strings. For once… I don't feel alone. That has to matter too."

A heavy silence fell. Sam studied him, conflicted, eyes softened from their earlier flare. Finally, she looked away, unwilling to keep pushing tonight. "I still don't trust him," she said softly.

If Danny was going to reply, Tucker interrupted him with a grin. "Seriously, can we take one night to celebrate?" He held his burger like it was a trophy of his excellence. "Ember's toast, I'm officially a genius, and we got burgers! Win-win-win!"

Danny laughed weakly, shaking his head. Sam's eyes lingered on Danny, now focused on petting Cujo, thinking of all the ways the boy was echoing Vlad these days. It was unsettling, but the conversation had shaken her beyond just that. A not-small part of her wondered if maybe… Danny wasn't wrong after all.

Chapter Text

Energy at Casper High was peaking. The hallway bustled with noise and chatter, lockers slammed, students spoke over each other. The PA system crackled to life with some basic pre-class announcements, which barely anyone paid attention to, though they looked up when the audio briefly distorted. Jokes were made about someone sneezing on the mic, but nobody really batted an eye otherwise.

The energy was high because of one important fact: it was the last week of the school year. Five days left. Then it was ten weeks of vacation, and most students had already started it, mentally clocking out even though they still had finals to get through. Posters were strewn about on the walls, announcing end-of-year activities and summer clubs. Someone had scrawled "FREE AT LAST" in marker over one of them.

The speakers squealed again without a voice to back them. Sam flinched at the sharp noise, then crossed her arms. "Wow," she intoned flatly. "End of the year and the school's still running on bargain-bin tech. Color me shocked."

The trio stood in a relatively clear spot of hallway near their first class, waiting for the bell to ring. Tucker grinned. "Or maybe it's haunted!" He joked, waving his PDA around. "Think about it. School ghosts! They'd make us redo finals for all eternity."

"What, you want a ghost of standardized testing?" Sam arched a brow.

"Eternal scantrons," Tucker replied with a mock shudder.

Danny yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Please don't give the Ghost Zone ideas," he grumbled. "I'm running on three hours of sleep."

"Up late studying?" Sam asked.

"You could say that." It was mostly the truth. After acing the Northwestern Nine with Vlad's help, the pressure was on Danny to keep the momentum up, at least for finals. Vlad himself was making sure of that, saying something about maintaining appearances and ensuring a bright future. Unfortunately, that meant he'd been up all night factoring quadratics and he still didn't really get it.

A few junior students passed by, having a conversation about how one was going to Lake Eerie for summer camp and the other was being forced to work at the food court. Past them, Valerie and Star leaned against their lockers; Valerie was frustratedly poking at her phone, which seemed to be having technical problems.

"So Val, you coming to the bonfire on Friday?"

"If my phone doesn't die by then," Valerie grumbled. "Seriously, this thing's frying. Guess that's what I get for using a V60." She tucked the device away in her pocket, seeming to give up on it for now.

"Just say you don't wanna go," Star teased. Valerie's mouth twitched into a smile.

The PA sparked to life again, but this time everyone looked up at it as it crackled with static. "Goo-ood mor-morning Casper Hiiiiiigh…!" A distorted voice called out. It sounded vaguely familiar through the noise, and Danny narrowed his eyes. "End of year-- year-- end--- ennnnnnnd of the yearrrrrr…"

There was a sharp screech that made everyone jump, then it stopped without further output. Students looked around at each other; a ripple of confused whispers spread through the hall. One boy shouted "Buy new speakers already!"

"Glitching lights, glitching phones, glitching PA," Sam remarked dryly. "Totally normal."

Lancer stood at the front of the room, trying to wrangle his restless, already-clocked-out freshmen. The blackboard was smeared with erased drawings that the students had snuck in before class, not all of which were appropriate for the setting; desks were skewed in the back corners so the problem kids could mingle and joke without being called out. Danny, Sam, and Tucker sat together near the middle, trying to ignore the din as Lancer wheeled a screen projector into place.

"Alright, class," he slightly raised his voice to speak over them, "time for a pop quiz--"

The projector suddenly flickered, sparked, and blew out with a sharp pop. Smoke curled from the bulb, which still spat and hissed faintly. Students gasped, then broke out into cheers and laughter as Lancer stood, shellshocked.

"No quiz!" Dash pumped his fist. "Yes!"

"Man, I actually studied, too…" One kid grumbled.

Danny barely had time to register his Ghost Sense triggering before a ghost materialized over the sparking projector-- Technus, laughing dramatically. "Behold!" The ghost bellowed, far too loud for the tiny classroom. "It is I, Technus! Master of all things electronic! Tremble as I--"

Technus froze as the kids started clapping and cheering louder, not from fear, but from delight. Someone in the back whistled. Lancer, having recovered from the shock of both the projector and the ghost, sighed loudly when said ghost seemed to be doing nothing but monologuing.

"Yeah, real terrifying," Sam muttered.

Tucker was grinning. "Hey, if he knocks out the grading system, maybe finals are cancelled." He elbowed Danny playfully. "Technus: true hero of the people."

Sam looked around, eyebrow quirked. "Why aren't people more afraid, anyway?"

Danny frowned, but didn't move. Technus wasn't hostile, just obnoxious. The ghost looked around in confusion at the strange response he'd gotten from the kids, before getting over it and preening in his usual self-aggrandizing way. The boy tuned him out as Vlad's voice slid into his ear, smooth and dismissive.

"Ignore him, Daniel. He's nothing." Vlad sounded utterly neutral, like this was beneath Danny's notice. "A clown, grasping for attention. Let him posture-- it costs you nothing."

He stiffened, but didn't rise. Sam narrowed her eyes at him.

"Aren't you going to… do something?" She hissed.

"Like what?" Danny whispered back. "I can't go ghost in class." Which was, at least, the truth.

"Yes! Cheer! Applaud!" Technus boomed over them. "Soon your entire school will be under my control! Starting with… uh…" The ghost looked around, then zapped an AV cart for emphasis. "Your DVD player!"

The AV cart belched smoke and died with a sputter. The class burst into laughter again. Seeming confused but rolling with it, Technus posed again over the smoking device.

"Clockwork Orange! You're damaging school property!" Lancer threw his arms into the air before attempting to shoo the ghost out with a mop that was leaning in the corner.

Danny gripped his pencil tighter, the faintest buzz of restlessness in his arms, but he still didn't move. Vlad's words lingered, heavy as stone, even as he watched Technus relent against the mop-wielding teacher and flee into the hall.

The bell rang after a strained forty-five minutes in which Lancer attempted to salvage what he could of his authority once Technus had been banished from the classroom. Students still laughed and joked about the event; the trio could even hear the ghost's dramatic declarations down the hall, before he zoomed past a trophy case and through a vending machine, leaving it sparking behind him. Everyone gawked, but nobody seemed especially afraid.

"Yo, he just fried the vending machine!" Kwan shouted, pointing at the machine which was now dropping its contents like a coin pusher. "Free soda!"

A bunch of kids crowded around the cascade of snacks, scooping up as much as they could carry. Lancer yelled at the group from his classroom and was promptly ignored-- until he physically entered the hall, still brandishing the mop, and the students dropped half their spoils and took off.

Danny stood at his locker with Sam and Tucker, fidgeting, bouncing his heel to burn energy. He watched Technus streak overhead through the ceiling lights, causing them to flicker. The boy's hand twitched, like he wanted to step in, but he didn't. Sam frowned at him.

"Since when do you just stand there while a ghost is flying around?" She asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, but Vlad cut in-- voice silky, deliberate, and threading straight into his ear. "Stay your hand, Daniel," he coaxed. "Discipline means patience. Let the buffoon rant if he wishes. He is a distraction from your studies, nothing more."

Danny winced, turning his face like he could shake Vlad's voice out. His friends exchanged an uneasy glance, sensing something off. "He's right there," he muttered. "I could--"

"And gain what?" Vlad interrupted. "A small victory, at the cost of greater dangers circling ever closer?" There was a pause. "No. Control yourself. Control is strength."

The boy exhaled sharply, gripping his backpack strap hard to readjust it on his body. Sam just kept watching him while Tucker fiddled with his PDA, which was now also fritzing.

"Danny…?" She prodded.

"I'm fine," he brushed it off quickly, not really answering the question. "Just… you know. Finals."

Sam stared at him. "Unbelievable," she finally said. "He's telling you to sit this out, isn't he?"

Sensing the tension come back when Danny flinched, Tucker interposed himself with a joke. "Hey, maybe he just wants your GPA to stay above water for once," the boy grinned.

"It's not like that," was Danny's defensive answer.

"It is exactly like that." Vlad was very much not helping.

Technus whooped dramatically somewhere down the hall, blasting the intercom into static. Students laughed and cheered, end-of-year apathy mixing with confusion into entertainment. Danny flinched at the noise, glared down the hall, but stayed put. Jaw tight, he slammed his locker shut with more strength than needed, and forced himself to walk away with his friends as if nothing was wrong.

Vlad echoed into his mind faintly. "Good," he whispered. "Discipline, my boy. Discipline above all."

Things went on like this even after lunch. Students spilled out of the cafeteria as the bell rang, already used to the "rampaging" ghost, the glitching intercom, and the flickering lights. Casper High students were nothing if not quick to get back to the status quo, but usually that happened after the ghost was already gone, not while it was still actively flying around. The teachers were obviously less pleased about the situation, wheeling busted technology into storage rooms and already switching to other methods of teaching. One of them muttered something about the grading system being down.

Tucker perked up at that. "No grades, no finals!" He crowed.

"You know they're gonna just grade by hand, Tuck," Danny reminded him.

The other boy shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "Dude, have you seen Tetslaff trying to hand-grade?" He asked. "No way they'll go through with that for every student in the school. Technus is officially my hero."

Sam didn't share in the banter, instead shooting a look at a flickering light. "Yeah, until your 'hero' fries the whole school," she intoned.

Danny lowered his voice as they reached a spot of hall that was relatively empty. "I don't know, guys," he admitted. "If he can take down the grading system, what's next? Traffic lights? Hospitals? What if someone gets hurt?"

She looked at him with relief, and nodded sharply. "Then we need to stop him before that happens. Simple."

They continued down the hall, but Danny fell out of step and lagged behind when Vlad chose then to speak up. Sam and Tucker continued on, not noticing. "No, Daniel," Vlad spoke, firm but lower than usual. "Not here. Not now."

Startled, Danny glanced ahead to make sure his friends hadn't noticed him slow. "Vlad--" He tried to argue.

He was cut off immediately, his mentor's tone not cold so much as urgent. "Listen to me. If you reveal yourself within these walls, you risk far more than a few lost report cards. Too many eyes are watching. The wrong eyes. You know this."

Danny swallowed, something twisting in his chest. "He's wrecking the school--"

"And? What of it?"

"Someone could get hurt--"

"And if they do, you will save them when it matters. Not before."

"But if he spreads--"

Vlad's voice was firmer with this last interruption, with an almost raw edge under it. "Then we handle it when the time comes. Not before." There was a beat, like a silent sigh, a recomposure. "Patience, Daniel. Discipline means knowing when to strike-- and when restraint is the only way to keep yourself safe."

Those words hit differently. Maybe it was the tone behind them. Danny didn't argue this time, lowering his eyes to the floor.

Apparently Sam and Tucker had noticed he'd fallen behind, because when he looked up again, they had stopped walking, looking back at him. "Danny?" Sam prodded.

He gave a weak smile. "It's fine," he forced out, trying to hide the slight shake in his voice. "He's just messing with the system. Nobody's hurt yet." For now.

She didn't seem to fully believe him, but she only narrowed her eyes and didn't press. As Danny caught up with them, Tucker pumped a fist.

"Seriously! If Technus wants to delete finals, I say let him. Dude's my MVP."

Danny forced a weak laugh but couldn't ignore the flickering lights, or the buzzing in his chest that told him he had to act. For now, though, Vlad's words-- his tone-- were enough to stay his hand. He only hoped that Vlad wouldn't wait until disaster struck.

The rest of the day passed without serious incident, but rather a bunch of minor ones that the kids quickly grew apathetic to, aside from the odd cheer when Technus did something "helpful". At one point, he'd turned the PA system into a jokebox for ten minutes, leaving the class complaining when it was cut off mid-song. At the day's end, students filtered out of the school, chattering about broken grades and finals being delayed. Danny and Sam walked together down the steps; Tucker was still inside, apparently trying to snatch some free snacks with a bunch of others. Danny himself was visibly tense, feeling like he was having an argument with his own chest.

Sam seemed to pick up on it. "So what," she started, flat and challenging, "we just sit back while Technus takes over the school?"

"It's discipline," Danny said without any real heart in it. "Learning when to wait instead of acting."

"What's the point of discipline if people are getting hurt?"

"Nobody's getting hurt," Danny sounded defensive now.

"Yet!" Sam threw her arms up, stopping in front of him. "That's not good enough, Danny."

He stopped walking and lowered his voice. "You don't get it," Danny replied, strained. "If I fight him at school, people will notice. The wrong people. And then what? It won't just be Technus anymore."

She blinked at him, caught off guard that he'd thought so far ahead. But then Sam narrowed her eyes, catching the subtext, the word choice. "That sounds like him talking."

Danny didn't deny it. "Yeah. But what if he's right?" He almost sounded like he was pleading now. "He said patience matters, that sometimes waiting is the only way to protect myself. And you. And Tucker."

Sam folded her arms, frowning, opening her mouth to argue again-- but she stopped. The way he was looking at her-- he actually believed it. Not just parroting his creepy mentor, but holding on to the words like they made him feel safe.

"You…" She started skeptical, but her tone softened and she shook her head. "You… really think he's protecting you."

The boy shrugged. "I… don't know," he admitted quietly. "But for once, it feels like someone's looking out for me. Like I don't…" Danny trailed off, apparently unable to find the words.

Sam exhaled slowly, frustrated but not wanting to keep pushing. "Or… he's just making you believe that," she offered as one last remark, before the two kept walking. Danny still didn't argue with her, just kept his gaze low. The distance felt heavier than the silence did.

Things were quiet at home. Danny sat at his desk, cross-legged on his chair, Cujo snoring on the foot of his bed behind him. A textbook lay open to the side next to a worksheet, and his pencil scratched against scratch paper. The light from his desk lamp was soft but not quite yet dim. The room was unusually quiet-- save for Vlad's voice behind his shoulder, like a shadow he couldn't see.

"No, Daniel, check the denominator again," the man corrected patiently. "You'll find the answer reduces cleanly if you factor it first."

With a small pause as if confirming what Vlad was saying, Danny erased and corrected, exhaling. He took about another minute to solve the equation before leaning back and rubbing his eyes, tired but grudgingly impressed with his own progress.

"… Thanks," he near-muttered, before grimacing as he saw the next problem. "X and Y should just get a divorce already and save us all the trouble."

Vlad chuckled, and the smile carried to his tone as he spoke. "Discipline sharpens the mind as much as it does the body, little badger. You see? Even the most tedious sums bow to patience."

Danny started working out the next problem, but his pencil slowed. His mind wasn't fully on the homework; he still felt that strange, mobile pressure under his ribs that made it feel like he was vibrating subtly. A constant urge to move, manifesting as tapping his finger against his pencil. "Yeah, but…" he started, "Technus is still out there. Shouldn't I… y'know, do something about it?"

"I know it's difficult, Daniel," Vlad replied, calmly. "Every fiber of who you are wants to rise to him. But," his voice turned dismissive, "Technus is only posturing. A peacock displaying his feathers, nothing more. He fritters with your school's toys because he is small-minded. Hardly worth the distraction."

The boy frowned, looking down at his paper, still restless. His instincts told him otherwise. "Doesn't feel like it."

"That is why you must trust me, Daniel," Vlad returned sharply, before softening. "Instincts are fickle-- clouded by impulse, fear, emotion. But wisdom lies in restraint. If you go chasing every shadow, you reveal yourself-- and then you risk far more than a faulty computer system."

Danny hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He flinched as he bit a little too hard and tasted a flash of something metallic. The sting cut through the restless vibration for a moment.

Vlad pressed, voice soft but heavy with authority. "Stay your hand. Let Technus rattle his cage. While you strengthen here, at your desk, where nobody can touch you."

He exhaled slowly, slumping his shoulders without saying anything, then continued working on his algebra worksheet. His silence marked agreement, or at least acquiescence, despite the unease lingering in his eyes.

"Good boy," Vlad's voice rang, low and satisfied.

The quiet continued into the morning as Danny prepared for school, still in his room. A red zip-up hoodie lay discarded on his chair; it would be entirely too hot today to wear the thing. He slotted his worksheets carefully into his half-empty backpack; maybe he'd work on them to distract himself from everything that was going on.

After a moment of brief packing he sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. Cujo tugged at his shoelace, either playing or pulling him to his feet, Danny could never tell. Danny gave a soft smile and picked his dog up, who proceeded to wag his tail with pricked ears as if listening.

"I should be out there," Danny said quietly, rubbing the pup's head. "Technus isn't just… messing around. I can feel it." A pause, then another sigh. "But every time I even think about going ghost, I'm told to wait. Told I'll mess everything up if I don't stay put."

He put Cujo down, and the dog whined softly, nudging Danny's hand like he knew the boy was upset. Despite his slumping shoulders, Danny gave a soft smile and scratched the puppy's ears. "Yeah, I know, boy," he whispered as if in response. "I just… don't know what's worse. Letting Technus run wild while I sit around, or trying to stop him and-- and messing something up because I couldn't wait."

The doorframe creaked, and Danny's eyes immediately snapped toward it like it was a threat. Jazz poked her head in. "Hey, little brother," she started casually. "Did you want to walk to school or get a ride today?"

Trying to calm the hammering in his chest, Danny gave a weak smile. "I'll walk, but thanks." It was better in case he needed to get out of sight quickly to go ghost, and he really didn't feel like getting psychoanalyzed by his sister today. Time to escape.

Grabbing his half-zipped backpack, he passed her into the hall and down the stairs, leaving Cujo to curl up on his bed. Jazz raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing, just leaning against the railing as she watched. Danny briefly stopped by the kitchen to grab a plastic-wrapped honey bun on his way out the door, not even pausing as he undid the packaging.

She waited until he was out the door before giving a sigh and a slump. It hadn't been much-- but she'd heard him venting to his dog. Someone was telling Danny to blow off the ghost situation, as much as he didn't want to, and the stress was plainly visible in how the boy carried himself, reacted when startled, and even the way he spoke. "Danny…" Jazz mumbled to herself. "Who's making you hold back?"

But as Danny trotted down the Fentonworks porch and gave a cursory, alert look around, there was just the quiet hum of always-active technology from the building behind him. A nearby street lamp flickered and died, and the boy raised an eyebrow at it before moving on, assuming a burn-out of the bulb. As he turned to walk toward Casper High and took a bite from his impromptu breakfast-- too sweet, but he didn't care as long as it was food-- Danny didn't notice the scattered lights continue blinking out around him.

First period was tense. Lancer trying to keep his clocked-out students focused-- Danny was one of the only people who'd actually done the History worksheet-- under too-bright fluorescent lights which had never bothered the boy before, but now gave him a headache. Maybe it was stress, maybe exhaustion. Maybe it was even hunger-- the pastry he'd grabbed hadn't helped for long, and now Danny was hungry again. He'd make it to lunch, but still.

As Danny tapped his pencil restlessly against his own arm, suddenly there was a loud pop-- and the room went dark and still. The lights, the projector, Lancer's computer-- everything cut out at once. Danny's head shot up, snapping alert as one kid gave a startled shriek, a surprised silence lingered for a few seconds, and then the students gasped and muttered.

"Everyone stay calm!" Lancer called over the din, trying to maintain control. A quick glance out the door confirmed the hallway had gone dark as well. "It's just a power outage. We'll, uh, go old-school today!" He fumbled through his desk for chalk and a flashlight, a few kids pulling out their phones to do the same, only to have their screens flicker as well.

Danny rose slightly, not fully standing but no longer fully sitting either. His instincts screamed something was wrong, even if his Ghost Sense didn't. The faint thrumming in his bones he'd felt since getting to school intensified into nearly feeling like he was vibrating; every part of him was restless, ready, alert, wanting to act, wanting to move. He twitched, then glanced out the hall again, already thinking of a plan to slip away and transform. Ask to go to the bathroom, transform there, investigate and find Technus-- simple.

This had to be it. This had to be when he was supposed to act--

"Stop, Daniel," Vlad cut through his thoughts like a whip. "Now."

"Danny?" Sam whispered, noticing the boy rise and suddenly freeze.

He'd never heard Vlad like this-- icy, commanding, the words sharp enough to slice. Danny swallowed hard, still half-standing uncertainly, heart pounding. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, leaving him confused and shivering.

"Do not dare transform," Vlad continued, clipped and firm, but with something else under it. "Do not expose yourself over flickering lights. Do not throw everything away for--" he cut himself off for only a second before his voice hardened again, "-- for this."

Danny flinched, but was unable to respond. His classmates were too distracted to notice, save for Sam and Tucker, who watched his jaw tighten. Sam narrowed her eyes; Tucker just looked worried.

"You will obey me, boy." The tone was harsher, but something like panic bled through. "Sit. Down. This is nothing but noise. Control yourself before you ruin everything. Control is strength."

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk, but that was nothing compared to how the color had drained from Danny's face. Instinct rebelled, but there was something in the harshness of Vlad's commands, the unyielding authority, that pressed in against Danny and made him feel small. Shakily, he lowered himself back into his chair, trembling, chest screaming at him. His ribcage felt like it was vibrating against skin that was too tight, louder with every second he didn't move.

The chalk squeaking against the board ripped him back to reality, but Danny couldn't focus now. Lancer was writing something about the Cold War at the front of the room, pretending order had been restored, while Sam leaned over and whispered.

"Danny? What was that?"

He couldn't answer. His throat refused to work, like Vlad's command still coiled there, yanking him back into his own body. Danny moved his hands up to his head uncertainly, but then forced himself to stare down at his desk, pretending to take notes when all he was doing was scratching his pencil across the paper in uneven lines.

"Danny!" Tucker joined in with a hiss. "Dude, what's going on? You look like you're gonna hurl."

"What's he doing to you?" Sam added, grabbing Danny's sleeve, concern overriding the usual anger at Vlad. But she paused, blinked, and withdrew when she realized Danny was shaking.

Vlad had remained quiet since Danny had sat back down, neither scolding further nor offering a recovery. So Danny was left with alarmed friends whispering at him and a steadily growing, aching vibration in his body he could no longer ignore. Instead of answering, he dug his pencil harder into the paper until the lead audibly snapped. It was loud in the quiet of the blackout, enough that a few heads turned, but quickly lost interest.

Sam and Tucker exchanged looks. Danny giving them excuses was one thing. Not responding at all was a completely different matter.

Class continued in darkness and teachers scrambling to manage finals prep without electricity. Danny, for his part, had slowly recovered from the incident in first period-- still ridiculously restless, but no longer shaking, actually becoming responsive again. He was still unusually quiet, and the attempts by Sam and Tucker to keep the mood light around him were unanswered but very much welcomed.

Lunch was forced into the courtyard. Thankfully, Casper High had never upgraded from gas cooking to electric, so the food was the same as ever-- for better or worse. Students crowded the few picnic tables available, or sat on the grass to eat. The trio had managed to score a table to eat at. The air was unsettled, quieter than the previous day's chaos-- Technus hadn't directly appeared, but everyone kind of assumed he was the reason the lights went out.

Valerie and Star were sort of near them, sitting on the grass against the school wall with their food, underneath a row of spotlight fixtures that were turned on whenever a special event was happening in the courtyard. Star was eating and gossipping loudly, oblivious to Valerie fiddling with her gear underneath a jacket. The girl slammed the heel of her hand into the casing of a flickering piece of tech, but it didn't help.

Danny poked at his food listlessly as Tucker and Sam tried to fill the silence and act like nothing was wrong. "I'm just saying, maybe Technus isn't all bad!" Tucker was grinning. "I mean, no power, no grading-- that means no homework and no finals! I say we let him glitch away."

"Sure, until the stoplights go out and someone gets flattened," Sam deadpanned.

Danny didn't chime in, pushing his food around his tray. His meals had gotten larger lately-- the cafeteria let you order however much you wanted as long as you had the money for it. In front of him was about five dollars worth of food, half-eaten, slowly growing cold, but what he thought would get his energy back up didn't seem to be helping at all. His friends looked at him, and Sam opened her mouth to speak.

Before she could say anything, though, a sharp crackle echoed through the light fixtures ringing the school building as they flickered on and back off repeatedly. One squealed under the stress, groaning loose. An entire section of bar holding two spotlights began to crack. The one directly over Valerie and Star.

Star shrieked and bolted up and away from the danger. Valerie rose to try to do the same, grabbing her gear, but the item she'd been trying to fix spat sparks violently, knocking her back down into the grass. Her leg tangled with her bag and her jacket, and as Star screamed her name, Valerie froze and stared up at the light pole as it finally broke off and came crashing down--

-- and then Danny was suddenly there, having vaulted over the picnic table while everyone else was too stunned to react, grabbing Valerie's arm and dragging her out of the way with his own momentum. The section of light smashed down where she and Star had sat with a deafening crash as she and Danny tumbled several feet away from the shower of sparks. Students scattered even if they were nowhere near, shrieking.

Valerie stared at Danny as they broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed as he panted for air. It wasn't inhumanly fast, but more than anyone had expected from this twig of a kid.

"What the-- Fenton-- how--" the girl blurted, shaken, "how did you even… move like that?"

Danny swallowed, grasping for words as he stood and helped her up. "Uh. I…" He started awkwardly. "Lucky… reflexes, I guess?" Weak excuse, he berated himself, before trying to cover. "Guess gym class is paying off." It was a much safer option than the truth.

Valerie blinked at him, clearly not buying it, but Star and Lancer interrupted the conversation with frantic fussing, forcing her to drop it. She straightened and brushed herself off as Danny hurriedly walked back to his gaping friends, staring at him even with a stiff, muttered "thanks…?" leaving her mouth.

"Dude, what?" Tucker hissed as soon as Danny was in hearing range. "How-- did you go ghost without going ghost?"

"No, just…" Danny mumbled as he sat back down. "I… I don't know, guys, it… just happened." He glanced over his shoulder where Lancer was ushering the two girls inside the building. "I can't explain it."

"You're not shaking anymore," Sam said suddenly.

He blinked at her before realizing she was right. The shaking, the vibrating, the pressure-- they weren't completely gone, but they were manageable now, ignorable, like a breath he'd held for too long finally released. Suddenly his food seemed more appealing, too, and he realized just how hungry he was.

As Danny went back to his lunch and Tucker tried to joke, Vlad's voice slid in to his ears, measured but firm. "Better, Daniel," the man stated with quiet approval as his pupil shoveled chicken into his mouth. "Protection does not always require spectacle. You acted without revealing yourself-- exactly as you should."

Danny exhaled, shoulders relaxing, surprised at the lack of scolding. A flicker of relief, both at the approval of his mentor and the easing of… whatever his jitteriness was. Maybe it was adrenaline, but the boy felt… better. He even managed an innocent smile when he saw Valerie side-eye him suspiciously as she entered the school again, clearly filing the incident away for later.

The blackout continued, and people didn't seem to bat an eye at Danny's heroics-- he simply wasn't interesting enough, Valerie was no longer popular, and it passed with barely a comment or two in the halls. Teachers scrambled, passing out worksheets, grading by hand, muttering under their breath about prehistoric teaching methods. Tetslaff scrawled crooked notes on the chalkboard by flashlight, exasperated. Students groaned as they were forced to write problems out with the lack of a working printer. The room felt heavy and distracted, instead of the chaotic cheer of the previous day.

Danny sat at his desk, posture tight, eyes down. The relief he'd felt at lunch had faded by sixth period. He tapped his pencil in bursts-- twitchy, restless, needing to move. Needing to act. But he was kept in his chair, feeling it like an itch in his chest he couldn't scratch. Sam noticed and leaned toward him.

"You're wound so tight you're about to snap," she whispered in a voice low enough Tetslaff wouldn't hear.

Danny flinched-- not at the words, but at the tone, expecting anger. He muttered without looking at her. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she corrected. "You almost jumped out of your skin when the lights went out, and--" Sam paused as Danny clenched his hand around his pencil. She decided to change track. "And you didn't think twice about helping Valerie."

His eyes flicked toward her, then down again. He exhaled through his nose, shoulders tense, before mumbling his reply. "That was different." His tone and eyes were distant, like he wasn't fully present despite sitting right there next to her.

"Different how?"

Danny's voice was flat, almost mechanical. "She was in danger. Real danger. I couldn't just sit there."

Sam blinked at that. Despite the flatness, she'd heard something under his tone-- something raw. "So why are you sitting now?" He voice softened. "Technus is in the walls, the lights, the whole system. That's danger too. You saw it."

He hesitated, jaw tight, then swallowed and tried to find the words without spilling the entire truth. "It's… not that simple."

She narrowed her eyes, connecting the dots. Danny's flinching, the incident in first period, the incident at lunch, the whole… discipline thing. Her voice was cautious but edged as she probed. "He… he's telling you not to go ghost, isn't he?" Danny's sudden freeze and hunched-over posture all but confirmed it. "That-- that's why you were able to save Valerie. You stayed human." The silence between them stretched when he didn't answer-- not even to deny it.

Sam pressed after a moment, frustrated but somehow not surprised. "He's not protecting you, Danny," she hissed. "He's breaking you in." He still didn't reply, staring down at his hands, shutting her away. Because she knew he believed Vlad. Believed he was being protected from something. Believed it so much he was willing to stay still when everything in him demanded action. Sam's frown turned into a glare, and her voice sharpened. "If you keep listening to--"

Snap!

The crack of Danny's pencil breaking in half in his grip echoed sharply through the classroom, and heads turned. Sam jerked back, startled, even as Danny calmly dropped the pencil and looked down where the sharp splintering had cut a deep gash through his thumb and the meat of his palm. He stared at the red oozing out as if he'd never seen anything like it before and was dully trying to figure out what it was, turning and flexing his hand like he was casually inspecting the wound. It looked more like ink bleeding across his notebook than anything real.

Tetslaff rushed forward with a napkin and a muttered "honestly, Fenton" and tried to usher him to the nurse's office. The class started muttering.

"Did he just… snap a pencil in half?"

"No way the dweeb is that strong. It was probably cheap."

"Dude, did you see him at lunch earlier?"

He stood without really reacting to the fact that he was now bleeding, and let the teacher press the napkin against the cut. The boy let himself be herded into the hallway, even as the class muttered and whispered behind him. There was pain, sure, but it barely registered in comparison to the pressure against his chest, like the wound was less real than the ache under his ribs.

Vlad's voice echoed in his head like a mantra. Discipline. Patience. Restraint. Control. The words looped in his skull, steadier than the dim ache in his hand or the voices around him, and he hung onto them. They were the only things that made sense.

The rest of the school day, and even the walk home, passed like a blur until Danny was back at Fentonworks. The nurse had taped gauze padding around his hand, which made it hard to hide the injury, so he didn't bother. Unfortunately, Jazz was already sitting on the couch when he slipped inside the house, so the boy hastily shoved his hand into his jeans pocket to hide it.

She didn't seem to notice, looking up from her book to smile at him. Cujo yapped from the hall and skittered across the floor to greet his master, who gave the dog a quick scratch before walking toward the kitchen. He was exhausted, more than he should be, and thought maybe it was low blood sugar from the injury.

"You know," Jazz started casually as Danny passed her, "for a guy who always complains about being tired, you've been moving pretty fast lately."

Danny glanced up from where he was bending to search the fridge, eyebrow quirked. "Fast? What, you mean like, sprinting to catch a bus?" He fished an apple out of the crisper and straightened.

"More like diving across a courtyard to pull someone out of danger," Jazz teased, shaking her head with a smile. "You don't usually stick the landing like that."

He froze mid-bite, before shrugging and trying to play it off. "I just… reacted, I guess." He closed the fridge door. "Anyone would've done the same thing. Reflexes, adrenaline, whatever. Totally normal."

"Mhm. Normal." She leaned forward, watching her little brother with something between gentle pride and knowing amusement. "Still, not bad. Almost like you've gotten… faster and stronger."

Danny's face softened slightly, but Vlad spoke before he could reply. "Do not let her pry, Daniel," he hissed, voice edged with irritation. "Praise can be a snare."

"Really, Jazz," Danny muttered, his expression withdrawing. "It's not… it's not a big deal."

"It is." Jazz seemed unruffled. "You've been stepping up more this semester. Don't think I haven't noticed."

He looked down at his apple, turning it in the hand that wasn't shoved in his pants pocket to hide a deep wound. He opened his mouth--

"Did I hear 'stepping up'?"

Jack's voice boomed from the next room before the man barreled in to slap Danny on the back so hard the boy nearly choked on another bite of apple. "That's my boy! Strong reflexes, great grades, heroic instincts-- runs in the family! Must be my genes finally kicking in!"

Danny coughed, stumbling to catch his balance with an expression somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment. There was a painful spasm in his left shoulder as something in the scar reacted to the impact. Jazz rolled her eyes; Cujo yipped at the sudden noise.

"Your genes, indeed." Vlad's dry remark barely masked the seething underneath it. Danny bristled in some sort of sympathy, catching the tone. "If his genetics were responsible for anything, Daniel, you would be obsessed with fudge and parading around in an orange jumpsuit. Pay him no mind."

"Yeah, sure, Dad," Danny said aloud, rubbing his shoulder with dry irritation. "That must be it." Jazz frowned at his tone but said nothing.

"Knew it!" Jack grinned proudly. "With training, you'll be saving the world before you know it, son."

The man tromped off humming some tune, leaving the kitchen quiet again. Danny sighed, running his injured hand through his hair.

"Don't let him get to you," Jazz offered gently, eyes flicking to the gauze but leaving that matter alone. "I meant what I said."

Danny returned a small, sheepish smile before heading for the stairs, Cujo at his heels. Jazz went back to her book.

"Fools all around you, Daniel," Vlad muttered, sharp. "Do not let their noise drown your discipline."

Danny's smile faltered, and he hid it with another bite of his apple. He looked down at his dog for reassurance, bending down to scratch him behind the ear. Discipline was strength. Restraint was wisdom. Patience was control.

Somewhere inside the city's humming power grid, where data and electricity flowed like blood through wires, Technus flitted from device to device, console to console, flooding out of one simple building into the city itself. Circuits bent to his will, reshaping themselves into neon skylines and jagged towers, replicating Amity Park in synthwave. Every flickering bulb, every stuttering speaker-- they carried his laughter, reacting in time with his cadence.

Technus wasn't just in Casper High anymore-- he was in everything.

"Behold!" He boomed to nobody. "For I, Technus, master of all things electronic, have seized the very lifeblood of this pitiful city!"

The ghost gestured grandly around him, as if giving an invisible audience a presentation. The digital skyline glitched and pulsed under his control.

"Your homes, your schools, your precious traffic lights and refrigerators!" Technus continued, flying through a neon power line like it was a monorail track. "All shall bend to my will!" He stopped, hovering, observing his handiwork with hands on his hips.

"I shall upgrade this primitive backwater into a glorious techno-utopia!" He continued to monologue and grandstand as if anyone was watching or listening. "Whether you meatbags like it or not!"

Technus's laugh booked out again, and with a wave of his hand, he found himself instantly above the digital trace of Casper High. Circuits were coiled over it, transforming the school into a neon fortress. Another wave, and he was over the city center in an instant.

"The age of paper and pen is over!" He shouted, raising his arms high. "The age of flesh and frailty is obsolete! From the humblest alarm clock to the mightiest power grid, all shall serve me!"

Another booming laugh, before Technus flickered into static, dispersing into the grid as the city lights pulsed ominously in rhythm with his voice.

The blackout spread city-wide, only flickering alive again on occasion. When the sun set, it revealed just how much the city depended on electric lighting. Without streetlamps or the glow from windows, whole blocks vanished into shadow, side streets and alleyways indistinguishable from voids. Traffic snarled where signals had gone dark, horns blaring as drivers tried and failed to navigate with only headlights. While the lights would turn back on briefly, their absence brought with it a deeper unease-- corners felt sharper, shadows more threatening.

Valerie knelt beside her sled in full Huntress gear, working under the dim flickering of a streetlamp that had decided to exist for a few minutes. She scowled as she fiddled with the controls; sparks jumped across the display and the device blinked rapidly before rebooting itself.

"Great," she muttered under her breath. "Glitching gear in the middle of a ghost crisis. Just what I needed."

She pulled off her mask to wipe sweat from her brow. For a moment, she looked tired-- just a fourteen-year-old thrust into high-stakes protection of the city because somebody had to step up. Then a faint beep cut through the silence, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she looked up in surprise.

Resting neatly against a nearby building's wall was a sleek black case that definitely hadn't been there before. The girl stiffened, glancing around the empty alley, hand hovering over her ecto-gun. Nobody was there. Slowly and cautiously, she approached the box, before popping the case open.

Inside, neatly arranged, was a set of fresh circuits, a replacement gauntlet brace, and a compact drive labeled only with the V-on-globe logo she'd seen before. The designs were sleeker, the metal faintly tinged green. A slip of paper rested on top, scrawled with the same tidy handwriting as the initial delivery of her gear.

For your continued work. Smarter. Stronger. Ready.

No signature, no address, but she knew it was for her. Valerie blinked, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Heh. Guess my mystery sponsor's been watching."

She slid the new components into place. Her gauntlet flickered, then stabilized-- no glitch, no static. Her sled hummed with renewed energy, brighter and sharper than before. Valerie grinned, confidence restored.

"Alright," she stated with some finality as she stood. "This Technus is glitching up the city grid. Ghost boy is nowhere to be found. Guess that means it's my turn."

She pulled her mask back on and kicked her sled into the sky, leaving the empty alley behind.

School was cancelled the next day due to the blackout, and the chaos spreading city-wide overnight. Traffic lights flashed from all green to blinking randomly to completely out. ATMs spit money into the street, with people ignoring the traffic danger to scramble for loose bills. Phone lines and cell towers sparked with static, conversations cut off in squeals of interference. Shopfront televisions flickered to life, displaying Technus's face as he cackled over the feed.

"Citizens of Amity Park!" His voice rang out over the city. "Your fragile analog world has entered its next glorious phase! The age of techno-utopia-- ruled, of course, by me!"

Valerie streaked over the rooftops on her upgraded hoverboard. Her HUD blared with alerts, but the systems held steady, untouched by the glitches. "Not on my watch, circuit-breath," she muttered, before diving low. Her ecto-gun aimed at a sparking transformer and fired out a pink blast. The shot landed, but the power surged back within seconds-- rerouted by the ghost.

Technus appeared in a neon flicker across her visor, smirking. "Ah, the little hunter with her shiny new toys!" He called. "Let me take those for a test drive."

Static crackled across Valerie's gear as Technus lashed out with a hand, trying to infect it. Valerie gasped, preparing to defend-- but a surge of green and white arced across the sled, burning through Technus's attempt like acid. The ghost reeled back.

"What?!" Technus bellowed, glaring at her with rage and disbelief while clutching his smoking arm. "What is this… vile countermeasure?!"

"Anti-ghost upgrade," Valerie called back, taunting. "Guess my mystery sponsor's got you all figured out."

Her sled stabilized, unfazed, while the ghost hissed and retreated back into the power grid, voice still booming over every speaker. "Bah! Enjoy your reprieve, girl!" He shouted. "You may resist my touch, but the city itself already sings my code! Soon, even your precious toys will be outpaced by progress!" He vanished in a cascade of neon lightning, zipping along a telephone wire.

Valerie steadied herself, muttering "progress can bite me" under her breath, before banking toward the next surge point. Her sled held stable against the feedback, letting her hold her ground-- but every blast was countered by Technus splitting himself off into another part of the grid, to the point where she was destroying infrastructure more than she was fighting the ghost.

"Tch-- no good," she finally relented, pulling up sharply. "He's everywhere at once."

The girl flew into a quiet side-alley, landing and removing her mask again to wipe her face. Her gear was holding together, but she wasn't. The sheer scale of this takeover was simply overwhelming. But the ghost boy who handled this kind of thing on a weekly basis, she'd been informed, was nowhere to be found, so Valerie was the only one doing anything about it.

"Fine," she muttered crossly, looking down the alley toward the street. "Guess it's down to me. I'm not letting some overclocked circuit board take my city."

She breathed for a moment longer, then pulled her mask back on. Her sled and gauntlets whirred back to like as she zoomed through the air back into the chaos.

The trio had their own plans for combating the tech-ghost that had decided to claim their town. Even if Danny couldn't go ghost, he could still do something, and it had gotten to the point where if he didn't do something he felt like he might explode. So the three rushed into the chaos downtown. Car horns blared around them, pedestrians were too afraid to cross the unmanaged streets. They grouped near an empty office building, looking around.

"We can't just sit here," Sam grit her teeth, repeating herself for about the seventh time. "We've gotta do something."

"I know," Danny sighed, frustrated and antsy. They'd had this conversation so many times, but it helped them feel like they were at least planning. "But I can't-- I mean, I can't go ghost. Not yet." He still hadn't gotten the go-ahead from Vlad, and at this point he wasn't sure he would ever get it.

She shot him a look, but didn't press-- she'd seen just how fragile he'd been the previous day, and while today didn't seem as bad, she had no idea what was going on in his head anymore. He might have been completely fine, or he might have been one harsh word away from… running out into traffic, or something. Sam wouldn't take that risk.

"Stand back, people!" Tucker strode forward, pulling out his PDA and a clump of wires, approaching the nearby traffic pole. "Tech genius Tucker Foley is on the case!" He plugged one of the wires into his PDA, fiddled with some nonsensical adapter on the other end, and then plugged the adapter into a slot near the base of the pole. "Just gotta rewrite the traffic signals through this auxiliary subroutine--"

He hit a key. For a second, all the traffic lights turned red-- then every single one flipped green. Cars lurched forward from every direction. Tires screeched in a near pile-up and drivers began shouting at each other in panic.

"Tucker!" Both Sam and Danny yelled in unison.

Tucker winced as his PDA sparked, but he hit another button and all the lights began to blink yellow and stayed that way. The intersection stayed clogged, horns blaring but drivers beginning to back up and correct.

"Okay, okay," he scrambled to unplug from the pole. "That was a trial run. Totally intentional. Testing the limits of the system."

Sam facepalmed. Danny pinched the bridge of his nose in an uncannily Vlad-like gesture. "Pretty sure the limit is 'we all die in a car crash', Tuck," he muttered. He lowered his hand and looked around, not realizing what he'd just done, too occupied with the result of Tucker's attempt. "But…" he continued slowly, a small flicker of hope passing across his face, "that means you can get in. You connected."

Tucker blinked, surprised, then beamed, even though car horns were still screaming in the background. Sam lowered her hand from her face, realizing the same thing. For the first time, there's a crack, an opening they can get in through. But…

"Danny?" Sam probed softly. Danny might have missed his own gesture, but she certainly didn't. "I think it's great that you're here to help, but… maybe you should head home for now?"

Danny stared at her. "What?" He sounded almost offended, but more confused than angry. His bones hummed again. "You get on my back for not doing anything, then when I actually try to help you want to send me home?"

Put like that, it did sound bad. Sam raised her hands in a placating gesture as Tucker also looked at her oddly. "No, no, I don't mean just sit this out entirely," she tried to clarify. "Just…" Sam gestured at him vaguely, eyeing the thin line on his right hand where the cut had been yesterday. "… You've had a bad couple of days."

"It's been bad because I can't do anything, Sam."

"Right," she hastily agreed, which seemed to confuse Danny long enough to disarm him. "That's what I'm saying. If you can't do anything… maybe go home and prepare until you can?" Sam offered a smile. "Get some tech handy, make sure your folks are okay-- that sort of thing. We can handle the small stuff. Right, Tucker?"

"Uh." Tucker didn't seem to expect being put on the spot, but he recovered quickly enough to grin. "Right! Don't sweat it, dude, we'll keep Technus warmed up for ya."

Danny frowned at them some more. If Vlad was listening, he didn't have anything to add-- no agreement, no commentary on how his own friends were benching him. He opened his mouth to argue, but the thrumming in his chest chose then to spike, causing Danny to wince and forgot what his argument was going to be. He'd gotten used to ignoring the feeling, but it was rarely incapacitating like that. Maybe they were right and whatever was going on under his ribs was enough to make him sit this fight out.

The sensation continued for several seconds, and the others just looked at him like he was proving their point. When his lungs finally felt like they weren't trying to implode, Danny took a deep breath and tried to ignore the concern-bordering-pity on their faces. Discipline, patience, restraint, control. Even in the absence of Vlad's voice he knew what the man would say.

"… Fine. Whatever you say," Danny finally conceded flatly. Something flickered across Sam's face at his tone, but it didn't linger long enough for Danny to analyze it even if he felt up to it. "I'll go home. Just…" He looked down the street at where the cars were finally starting to move on from the near-accident. "… You guys come with me, at least to get some of my parents' tech. Gotta have something to fight ghosts with," he finished with a bitter mutter.

Sam and Tucker exchanged a worried look as Danny stuffed his hands in his pockets and stalked off, before following him back to Fentonworks without further conversation. The silence lingered, heavy and oppressive.

They made it back to Fentonworks, which was one of the only places in the city unaffected by the current chaos due to having its own power generator and a prototype ghost shield hooked in. Tucker and Sam had slipped into the lab and brought out an assortment of gear while Jack and Maddie were too busy preparing to enter the fray themselves. The two kids had entered and left before either of the parents noticed, though not without an uncertain look at Danny.

The boy now sat stiffly on the couch, watching the news coverage of the ongoing incident. The camera flickered; glimpses of Valerie in the distance, shooting at Technus whenever he appeared, snarled traffic, attempted repairs on phone towers, emergency crews scrambling to help anyone who was getting hurt in the mess. Danny's eyes were locked on all of it, pale, jaw tight. He dug his fingers into the cushion below him.

"This whole mess from one ghost," his mom sighed from the kitchen, looking over. "It doesn't even care who it hurts."

"All we need is a Fenton Bazooka, and that ghost will be toast in five seconds!" Jack pounded a fist into his open palm.

Danny's grip on the cushion went white-knuckled as he tried not to flinch at the exchange. If only his parents knew; he'd be on the receiving end of one of their weapons, too. He swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at his stomach. The adults wandered down into the lab, still ranting. He sat frozen, breath a little uneven.

Jazz was watching him intently from the armchair. He'd noticed her looking at him more than she was watching the news, expression soft and worried, but he'd done his best to ignore her. Finally, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah," Danny replied too quickly. "Totally fine." As if every bone in his body didn't feel like he'd been stuck with a tuning fork.

His sister raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He didn't look at her. After a beat, she stood and moved to sit beside him on the couch. For a moment, she leaned gently and silently into his shoulder. Danny glanced at her, startled, but didn't move away.

"You've been growing up a lot this year, you know," she finally said after a moment, quiet and warm. "Sometimes it feels like… you've aged twice as fast. Like you're carrying way more than anyone else our age should have to."

He blinked, thrown by her tone. His throat worked like he wanted to protest, but the argument didn't come. Danny slumped a little, staring at the carpet. "It just… feels like I should be doing more."

She studied him for a moment, expression still soft, then looped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. It was a proper big-sister hug that he couldn't remember getting since he was eight. "You are doing more, Danny," Jazz said. "You've been keeping it together while everything's been crazy. That counts." She offered him a smile.

Danny stiffened briefly, but gradually, slowly relaxed into the hug. He let out a shaky exhale before returning the smile, almost shyly. He leaned into her despite himself. "Thanks, Jazz," he said after a few seconds of quiet. "I… I guess I needed that."

She brushed his hair back lightly, looking at him like she wanted to say more. Whatever it was, she appeared to decide against it. Instead, Jazz patted his shoulder once and stood, giving him his space again. "Just… don't forget you've got people who care about you, okay?"

He nodded faintly, eyes pulling back to the TV as Jazz headed down to the lab herself. Valerie was still fighting, still struggling. Danny clenched his hands again, but this time he breathed slower, steadier. He whispered under his breath, not sure if he was talking to himself or to Vlad. "I can't just sit here."

Jazz paused at the doorway, catching the words and glancing back. There was something like quiet realization on her face as Danny slowly stood and made for the front door. She didn't call to him-- just let him be, because that was what he needed right then.

The street was chaos. Traffic lights had started flickering nonsense, Technus having recovered from Tucker's brief intrusion. Car alarms and horns blared in every direction, storefronts and neon signs buzzed with static and sparks. Technus's laugh echoed from the speaker systems, ringing out over the entire city and yet carrying a disorienting stereo effect.

"Citizens of Amity Park! Witness the dawn of my glorious techno-utopia! Soon, you will bow before my every command!"

Sam and Tucker ducked into an alley, relying on the fading sunlight to keep them hidden. Both wore cobbled-together Fenton gear like it was video game armor and they were preparing for a boss fight. Clearly the gear hadn't been made for teenagers, and they weren't even entirely sure what some of it did, but they hadn't had time to investigate or test.

"This is insane," Tucker whispered. "Danny should be here."

"Danny's benched," Sam replied sharply. "Someone has to step up until Vlad lets him off his leash." She spat the words like they left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Right." Tucker was trying to sound confident now. "Besides, how hard can fighting Technus be? He's basically a walking hardware store commercial."

She shot him a sharp look and he grimaced, adjusting his gear. They crept toward the main street where Technus hovered, arcs of energy sparking from power lines into his hands. He was out in the open in the middle of town, and while they weren't sure what the ghost was doing, they knew that someone had to do something about it.

"Okay," Sam hissed under her breath. "Aim for the chest. Don't let him get near your gear. Ready?"

Tucker gave a weak grin. "Nope."

That earned him a smirk. The two broke cover; Sam opened fire first, a volley of green bolts lancing across the street. Technus jerked as they hit him, before turning and swatting the rest aside with flying sparks.

"What is this?!" He cried out. "Rebellious children interfering with my ascension? How utterly… predictable!"

The ghost slammed his hands together, releasing a pulse that made every car alarm in the area go off at once. Sam winced, resisting the urge to cover hear ears, and kept firing. Tucker crouched behind a dumpster, tapping furiously on his PDA.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, "if I can loop his signal into the streetlight grid, I can short him out…"

Technus's aura flashed and he turned to look at Tucker. Wires snaked out from a traffic light, whipping at him to knock the PDA out of his hands. The boy yelped as his device went flying and he dove for cover.

"Tucker!" Sam called out, before unloading the weapon on Technus to cover for her friend. Technus redirected, charging for her next. Electricity surged through the air and into the blaster, causing it to spark and fizzle. She dropped it with a curse, backing up against a car as sparks licked dangerously up the metal.

"Pathetic!" The ghost shouted, rising higher into the sky in a helix of wires. "You are gnats in the path of technological supremacy!"

Sam shielded her face, bracing for whatever attack would come-- and suddenly, a pink flash streaked across the sky. A bolt slammed into Technus, sending him tumbling through the air and forcing him to recover. The source made itself known immediately-- Valerie on her hoverboard-sled, circling above the two other kids with weapons out.

"Guess you've never dealt with pest control!" the girl shouted. She fired another burst, and Technus yelled out in frustration, shielding himself with bits of broken city infrastructure and car doors. His hand lashed out to seize her-- only for bright green sparks to arc out of her suit, shocking him.

Technus jerked back with a howl. "What?! My glorious assimilation-- denied?!"

She pressed the attack. Sam scrambled to recover her blaster; Tucker dove for his PDA. For the first time, the three fought together: Valerie pushing Technus back, Sam covering from the flank, and Tucker working away in the back.

"Don't think of this as a team-up!" Sam shouted up at the other girl, momentarily forgetting she wasn't supposed to know it was Valerie in that suit.

If Valerie was bothered by this, she certainly didn't show it. "Fine by me-- just stay out of the way!" She called back without even looking away from her ghost target.

Said target was recoiling again, recalibrating his approach. His voice boomed too loudly over the battlefield, smug despite his frustration. "You delay the inevitable!" He claimed. "I am power! I am progress incarnate!" Technus whirled up into the air again, retreating skyward in a trail of wires and electrical arcs, leaving the street scorched and smoking. "And you, children, are obsolete!"

The three stood as the ghost rose into the sky, Valerie staying perched in the air, Tucker and Sam panting and catching their breath.

"So… uh. Round one goes to us?" Tucker asked with a shaky grin.

Neither girl look convinced; they both lowered their weapons. Sam grimaced as Valerie scanned the skyline, watching pieces of technology ranging from broken light poles to home appliances rise after Technus.

"No," Sam replied, breathless. "Round one was just him playing with us."

The technology and wires and electricity that ascended after the ghost began coalescing into a form Sam and Tucker knew all too well from one of Danny's previous fights-- a giant armor-mech construct that Technus would pilot, and something told them that using an old version of a bad operating system to counter him wouldn't cut it. The real fight hadn't even begun yet.

Unseen by any of them, perched on a tall utility test pole, was Danny.

He sat on the narrow platform at the top of the pole; he'd told himself it was a safe vantage point, but that wasn't it, not really. The boy had gone ghost to get up here, and was now perched invisibly to avoid being spotted. The thick, still-live cables that snaked up the pole buzzed faintly below him. The hum wasn't loud, but it vibrated through the metal, through him, until it settled deep in his bones-- and seemed to counter, or soothe, the constant buzzing that had been plaguing his chest.

It felt like gravity pulling him sideways-- wrong, unnatural, yet steady and grounding. He tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was sitting on live, high-voltage wires that would probably kill him a second time, his fingers hovering near the closest cable without touching it. The air about him was sharp, charged, prickling against his skin, and yet it was invigorating. For reasons he didn't want to name, the static calmed him more than it should have.

Vlad's voice slid into his ear, icy and smooth, not so much as making Danny wince. "Now, Daniel," he said. "Now you may strike."

Danny took a steadying breath, tensing. The gnawing in his chest yawned wide, like a great hungry beast that knew it was about to be fed. He only spoke one word. "Finally."

The battle was already in motion. Sparks jumped between power lines light lightning veins as wires and even entire poles were uprooted to add to Technus's mech-suit. His laughter wasn't new; it had been echoing through the city all evening, but now it carried an edge of unhinged triumph, rattling windows in their frames.

Valerie circled overhead on her board, pink shots streaking against the neon glow. Sam and Tucker darted between cover on the street below, trading fire and frantic shouts. For every hit they managed to land, Technus answered with new armor or a surge of living wires or a pulse that made entire blocks crackle with static.

Technus spun theatrically above them, showing off his latest armor. "Yes! Tremble before my techno-utopia!" He spread his arms wide as if the very streetlamps were his worshippers. "Soon, Amity Park will run on nothing but the glory of me!"

Sam and Tucker crouched behind the wreckage of a bus stop as Valerie flew in for a landing to regroup. She reloaded her wrist blaster, breathing a little heavily.

"Where's that ghost boy?" She grumbled in frustration as she adjusted something on her board. "Doesn't he live for this kind of thing? The whole city's frying and he's nowhere!"

"He'll come," Sam breathed, trying to believe it. "He has to." She'd sent him home. Stupid.

Technus had seemed content to let them cower and hide before, but this time he pressed against their position. A cascade of lightning bolted downward toward their hiding place; the three of them barely had time to dive out of the way, scattering independently. Tucker sprinted for the corner of a building and Sam tried to aim her weapon, but Valerie kicked off into the sky again to fly back into the fray. And suddenly--

Smash!

A streak of black and silver rocketed out of the sky, slamming Technus and his giant mech suit violently into an empty city bus. It pulled up sharply after the impact, revealing none other than Danny, glaring down at the other ghost. His eyes and aura blazed brighter than ever before, and he didn't waste words.

"Shut up."

He hit Technus again, this time with an ecto-beam-- sharp, efficient, no wasted motion. Each strike was controlled and surgical.

Valerie shot upward to meet him, firing pink alongside the green. "About time you showed up!" She shouted at him over the chaos. "You let him tear apart the whole city before you even lifted a finger!"

Danny ignored her, pressing the attack. He darted forward to slip under Technus's guard, fists sparking with ectoplasm, every blow landing with a precision and intensity that wasn't like him. Sam frowned from the street, uneasy; that wasn't Danny fighting, and it wasn't even Vlad, but something hungrier. But she continued providing support from the flank.

Technus whirled on her, knowing Valerie's gear was out of bounds, trying to surge into Sam's weapon. Danny immediately intercepted with an energy strike, knocking the ghost back in a crackle of static. He seized the moment to follow up with a brutal ecto-blast, sending Technus careening into a traffic light.

Valerie rose again to meet him, furious now. "Don't ignore me, ghost boy!" She snarled. "You left us to clean this up for hours!" The girl drifted in front of him, blocking his path. "People could've died while you sat on your hands!"

He didn't flinch, his eyes only flaring brighter. Danny pushed forward, hands burning with energy, angling around his temporary ally. "Move." That one word wasn't angry. It wasn't even defensive. Just flat and focused.

Still, Valerie reeled at the tone. She glared at him as he simply flew after the enemy, but didn't press-- the fight wouldn't wait.

Meanwhile, Tucker had finally found a safe spot out of the line of fire while the others distracted Technus by keeping up the pressure. "Almost… almost…" He muttered, tapping away furiously on his PDA. "And…" He slammed a key, and there was a sharp beep. "Got it!"

All traffic lights across the neighborhood blinked in sequence, looping Technus's control back in on itself in a closed circuit. The ghost spasmed in his armor, glitching like corrupted code.

"Wha--" His voice came out in a garbled shriek. "No-- my perfect system--!"

Danny rocketed forward again, slamming Technus through a billboard and shattering the armor apart. But he didn't stop there-- even with Valerie and Sam trying to provide support, Danny was a living storm, angling above the recovering ghost and striking with another hard energy-punch that sent Techus into the asphalt, cracking it.

Tucker pumped a fist as he watched the aftermath of his play. "Yes! Outsmarted the techno-freak at his own game!" He crowed. "Genius-level, baby!"

Danny landed on his feet over Technus's groaning, exposed form. Without any of his usual banter, he uncapped the Fenton Thermos with one hand, voice flat and cold. "End of the line."

The beam engulfed Technus, who flailed, wailed, and was sucked in. The city went still. Some lights flickered back to normal; others sparked weakly or stayed off, too damaged to recover. People looked out their doors and windows, murmuring, wary but now safe.

As if losing his bravado, Danny slumped, chest heaving, thermos clutched in his hand. Valerie landed next to him, gripping her board and fuming.

"You could have shown up sooner," she snapped. "What, were you waiting for permission or something?"

He stiffened, squaring back up, glancing up at her as guilt flitted across his face. He couldn't answer.

Tucker's boasting saved him. "Did you see that?" He started from several feet away, pointing at himself with his thumb. "I totally hacked Technus! Outsmarted him with pure genius!"

Danny forced a weak laugh, but his eyes dropped and he masked it by scanning the wreckage. Valerie kept glaring at him-- then she noticed his stance, remembered his precision, the way he hadn't wasted a single move. For just a beat, her expression softened with grudging respect-- before she, too, hid it by turning away sharply and walking across the street as if to investigate something.

It took half an hour for the chaos to fully subside and people to recover from the last few days; the four teens milled about loosely, with Danny on his own, Tucker and Sam regrouping, and Valerie off to the side checking over her gear. Cars idled as police took statements and moved traffic along; a few people in black suits held clipboards at the edge of activity, probably assessing damages and repair costs. The air smelled of ozone and burnt-out circuitry.

Danny lingered just out of sight of the authorities, not wanting to have to explain anything, but staying as a ghost in case people were watching. Pale, sweaty, and clutching the thermos like it was the only solid thing around him, he still couldn't help but notice that his buzzing, gnawing feeling had subsided. Not just lessened-- it was completely gone now. Silence in his bones, something like a hunger sated. He felt… normal.

Sam and Tucker were just close enough to call out to him without making it look like they were socializing beyond standard post-combat check-ins. "You okay?" Sam asked, neutral in tone but with a soft smile.

"Yes," Danny returned, breathless and distracted by his own self-reflection. "Just… tired."

Tucker held his PDA aloft proudly, grinning wide. "You kidding me? That was textbook heroics! My hacking genius totally locked Technus out."

"Yeah, Tucker, you saved half the city grid," Sam answered him, rolling her eyes with a half-smirk.

"Don't you forget it," Tucker posed dramatically. "Tucker Foley: Tech Savior of Amity Park."

Danny managed another weak laugh, shaking his head slightly, but didn't join in the banter too much. Had to keep up appearances-- there was a deliberate distance between him and his friends, mindful of the eyes around them. They neither pulled him into a hug nor shunned him, letting him look and feel like an independent operator rather than part of a team.

Across the street, Valerie finished checking her gear and began hovering on her board. Her hood was off as she wiped away sweat, employing the same strategy as Danny-- regroup without being seen by the authorities. Apparently she didn't care about being seen by the trio. More importantly, though, she was watching Danny-- really watching him-- as he recovered from the battle. Her expression was taut; suspicion, anger, but something grudging settled in under it all: respect. Not trust, not forgiveness, just an acknowledgement of what she just saw. The way he fought, the way he held nothing back when it mattered.

He met her eyes without hostility, just tiredness. She stiffened, yanked her hood back on, and zoomed off into the sky before anyone could pin her to the scene.

"… She's gone," Danny muttered to himself.

He hadn't expected a response, but Vlad's voice drifted in smooth and sharp, cutting through his thoughts. "Of course she is, Daniel," his mentor remarked as if it was obvious. Maybe it was. "The hunter licks her wounds when the prey proves formidable. Pay her no mind."

The boy sighed but didn't outwardly react except to rub his temple. His friends exchanged quick glances behind him, voices low enough he couldn't hear them.

"He looks… better," Tucker mumbled optimistically.

"No," Sam whispered back, "he looks relieved. That's not the same thing."

"You see now," Vlad continued to purr into his ear, quiet and pleased. "You waited. You struck. And you won." There was a pause. "Discipline, Daniel. Always discipline."

Danny swallowed, staring at the thermos. Its weight steadied him, but in the back of his mind he could swear he still smelled burning wires. Another victory, another lesson, another piece of proof that Vlad knew what he was doing far more readily than Danny did. The sound of sirens wailed closer and Danny turned invisible as police swept the scene, the moment already slipping into the aftermath.

School was back in the rest of the week, much to the dismay of the student body. Finals came and went-- Danny passed his with a solid A-- and the last day of school was a breather while teachers graded and prepared their students for the ten weeks of reprieve. Finally, at the tail end of Friday, Casper High held a year's end assembly that nobody paid much attention to.

The bleachers creaked under the weight of bored students, the stage decked with folding chairs and a podium. Graduation had happened first, for the seniors leaving this school behind for college or work or whatever they planned to do. Now, Principal Ishiyama sat politely off to one side while Lancer paced the stage, droning on with an overly self-important speech about "academic excellence" and "the bright future of Casper High". Nobody was listening.

"-- and so, as Shakespeare once said in The Tempest, 'we are such stuff as dreams are made on'," the vice principal rambled on. "You, our dear students, are that stuff. The dreamers, and the dream."

Tucker leaned back, between Danny and Sam. He whispered before closing his eyes, "Wake me when he quotes something from this decade."

Sam rolled her eyes. Danny, meanwhile, wasn't listening to him, either. His gaze kept flicking across the bleachers to where Valerie and Star sat. She, too, was half-listening, half-distracted, idly tapping her foot. He studied her-- not with teen crush eyes, not even with animosity, but with an analytical, assessing sharpness that felt alien in his own head. The kind of appraisal, he dimly realized, that Vlad would sometimes turn on Danny himself.

Valerie didn't notice him watching, too busy rolling her eyes at something Star muttered. To her, Danny was just another geek in the crowd-- nothing special, even if he had saved her. But his stare lingered anyway, focused, thoughtful in a way that made him shift uneasily where he sat when he realized what was going through his head.

Vlad coiled into his ear, disarming the discomfort immediately. "Always watch the hunters, Daniel," he whispered. "Learn their tells. Their strengths. Their weaknesses."

Danny frowned slightly, but managed to suppress the flinch as he tore his eyes back to the stage. Sam glanced at him, curious more than suspicious, but the boy forced a thin smile and pretended to listen to Lancer drone on.

"-- and so, dear students," Lancer gestured grandly, oblivious to how little his audience was paying attention, "may your summer be filled with the noble pursuits of learning, character, and above all, discipline."

The gym echoed with tepid applause before students started gathering their things, eager to leave and not see this place for over two months. Danny exhaled, still unsettled by where his thoughts had gone, not sure whether or not they'd been entirely his own.

The sun was still high as students filtered out of the school in groups, a mark that the day was getting longer, that summer was well on its way. Danny had splintered off from Sam and Tucker with little questioning so that he could walk alone down the quiet side street that led to Fentonworks. His gaze was unfocused, distant, pointed at the pavement in front of him. A voice unfurled in his ear, smooth and deliberate.

"You wonder why I held you back," Vlad stated. It wasn't a question.

Danny didn't answer aloud, but his expression shifted in a manner of confirmation. He kept walking, grip tightening on the strap of his backpack.

"Responding to a threat at your school so quickly-- so rashly-- would have jeopardized more than the fight," the voice continued. "It would have jeopardized you, your secret."

The boy exhaled slowly and gave a minute nod, before glancing around to see where other students were, if they could hear him if he replied. They were slowly drifting away from his path; the closest person to him was a suited man with a clipboard, eyeing a repaired telephone pole.

"Discipline means waiting until I tell you to act." Vlad's tone had turned instructive, but not unkind. "If you acted immediately, yes… you would have won the battle. But you would have lost the war."

Nobody else was in earshot, and nobody was walking in his direction. Danny stared at a streetlamp as it flickered-- this time, just a dying bulb, not a ghost wreaking havoc. "So I'm supposed to just… do nothing?" He hunched his shoulders uneasily. "Even when people are getting hurt?"

"Not nothing," his mentor corrected gently. "Waiting. Choosing your moment." There was a pause, and Danny almost thought Vlad was done with his comment, but the man continued. "The wrong eyes are on Amity Park, Daniel. The wrong people are paying attention." Vlad's voice lowered. "A misstep now, and the danger that follows will not be Technus."

Danny swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to process that. The implication landed, as vague as it was. He nodded again, obedient but clearly troubled, jaw tight.

Vlad's tone softened to something almost paternal. "You did well," he said. "You trusted me. And because of that, you prevailed. Remember that."

Dim light from an ornate desk lamp cast Vlad's private study in soft shadow. Bookshelves towered along the walls, heavy with tomes ranging from classical to educational to esoteric. The only movement was the flicker of a fire and Vlad himself, sitting at his desk with immaculate posture. He scrolled slowly through classified-looking documents on his sleek laptop, eyes sharp and focused.

On screen was a grainy photo-- Danny mid-flight, blasting Technus into the ground. It was blurry, but unmistakable. In the top corner, labeled in red, was a code: SUBJECT 1017. Other windows showed cold, numbered reports with headings like "Incident Parameters" and "Containment Recommendations".

"So…" Vlad murmured to himself, "they've noticed."

The half-ghost leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, expression caught between thought and irritation. He reached forward and clicked an internal link. Another dossier flashed-- SUBJECT 0921 in yellow, over distorted footage of Technus gathering his armor. A third code, also in red, peeked out from under the window, barely glanced at-- SUBJECT 1019.

"They circle like vultures," he muttered bitterly, "with no idea what they stalk. Fools, mistaking noise for danger."

He closed one window, then another, leaving Danny's blurred photo and relatively barebones file up. Vlad stared at the words for a long time before finally continuing, his voice lower, tinged with something raw and human.

"Not you, little badger," he whispered. "You, I won't let them have."

He gave a sharp exhale, then straightened, mask slipping neatly back into place. The last few windows were dismissed, leaving only his sterile desktop environment on the screen before standing. His voice was polished again, composed, as he made his way out of the study.

"Control the board, Daniel. Always control the board."

The streets of Amity Park were long-quiet, littered with sparking wires, broken tech, and scorch marks that hadn't yet been cleaned up. Two days, and the primary wreckage of the battle had barely been touched, as if the city wasn't sure what to do about it. But it meant others could take their time to analyze the situation correctly, and take the fleeting recollections of bystanders before presenting the objective facts of the battle.

Two men in dark coats and muted gear crouched amid the wreckage, both equipped with handheld recorders. One shone a small light over the twisted scraps of a shattered amplifier, while the other jotted a few notes onto a clipboard covered in red-stamped forms. Their voices were low, clinical, precise.

"Mark it," the older one started, straightening up and clicking his recorder. "Subject 0921 confirmed manifestation, escalation beyond expected parameters." He sounded bored, gray eyes sweeping over the area. "Containment intercepted."

"Copy," the younger one confirmed quietly, before speaking into his own recorder. "Significant civilian interference. Two teenagers equipped with technology sourced from Subject 0999." He frowned, smoothing out his dark brown hair as the wind ruffled it. "Subject 1017 engaged directly; unexpected reinforcement from Subject 1019."

"1017 fought effectively," the first man stated, scanning the block before approaching the shallow crater left in the street. "Stronger response than projections suggested. Too strong for coincidence."

"And yet 1003 didn't interfere," the other man looked up, no longer talking into his recorder. "Not officially, anyway. No visual confirmation noted, no Ecto-Signature logged."

The gray-eyed man paused, chin tightening. "Still-- 1017 survived 0997 thanks to 1003's guidance," he reminded his partner. "Patterns repeat. Whether he was seen during this incident or not, we can't discount the possibility that he was involved."

"Mm." The second man clicked his recorder again. "Recommendation: confirm escalation of Alert Status on 1017 to Red, maintain on 1019. Maintain surveillance on both. Note cooperation between 1017 and 1019 after previous hostility." He paused, then looked at his partner. "Did we get a read on 1017's signature?"

"Yes," was the bored reply, as the man flicked through papers. "Reading was sharp, fast. Faster than most other ectoentities. Like an electrical current running too hot."

The pair moved carefully out of the wreckage. The one with the clipboard tucked it into a case stamped with bold red lettering-- "E. C. R. D. - CONFIDENTIAL". They walked off into the dark, stowing their handheld recorders.

The younger one eyed a sparking wire as it fizzled out. "Eyes open," he said with an air of finality. "It's only going to escalate from here."