The purple-clad ghost loomed over Team Phantom. They were surrounded by his duplicates, all armed. "Nowhere to run, children," Clockwork stated coolly.
Danny cast a panicked glance over his shoulder, revealing nothing but the time window into the desolate wreckage of Amity Park ten years from the present. The time ghost was right, there was nowhere to run…nowhere in this time, at any rate. "Nowhere but the future!" he shot back. He grabbed his friends and leapt through the portal. The scythe fell from Tucker's hands, and he briefly wished that the techno-geek had managed to hold onto it—hey, any weapon was better than none!—but said nothing as they landed hard in the twisted remains of their once-hometown.
Sam stared around in horror. They'd seen it through the time window, but nothing could compare to seeing it herself, with her own eyes. Her palms were scraped by rubble. The air was thick with the acrid stench of ectoplasmic fire and the unmistakable odor of death lingering below. Her eyes stung, and she wasn't certain it was just because of the reek or the dust. Goth or not, she couldn't not be moved by the sight of the razed city. "How do you think this all happens?" she whispered, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Danny hovered several feet off the ground. He was about to reply when the unmistakable sound of an ecto-cannon echoed over the wasteland. His eyes widened as he saw flashes of dangerous pink light on the horizon. "Valerie?" he whispered. It had to be. Only Vlad and those he supplied had pink ecto-energy, and if that was Vlad he'd have no need for an ecto-cannon.
He dropped to the ground, cloaking ghost form in humanity to hide from her hoverboard's sensors. "Hide!" he hissed in response to their questioning looks. He wasn't exactly sure why he felt this need to get away, to hide, but he couldn't help it. It swamped his reason and his hero complex with primal fear, and he knew that he wasn't the only one affected.
Sam grabbed his arm and pointed to a cave in the rubble. It looked fairly sturdy and was large enough for all three of them to fit with some semblance of comfort. He nodded, and they raced over, keeping their footsteps as quiet as possible. They didn't know what Valerie was like in this nightmarish future, but it probably wasn't good.
Once they were all safely ensconced in their little hiding place, Danny whispered the answer to Sam's earlier question. "I dunno...but based on what we just saw, I have a really bad feeling I'm the one responsible."
Sam blinked at him a few times before making a soft sound of comprehension. She'd forgotten her own question.
An indistinct shadow glided smoothly over the ground. The ragged edge of a cape was barely visible. Danny shot a glance at Sam, then Tucker—that could only be one person. Danny shifted and looked up—fortunately, their hiding place had a good vantage point. His blood ran cold at the sight of the ghost. The figure floating above them was taller, stronger, and unquestionably a full ghost, but he was still recognizable as once being his younger self. Although Danny was currently in human form, the resemblance was unmistakable. The time window hadn't really done him justice, and despite all the ghosts Danny had faced, not even Pariah Dark had seemed more terrifying.
Dan, as Danny dubbed him in his mind, looked around curiously. Suddenly he stiffened and sneezed. Danny hardly realized, though—he had his own problems. His ghost sense surged down his entire body, as though he'd been plunged into icy water, and he retched out a thick, almost tangible cloud of ice. He shivered and drew back, unconsciously seeking the warmth of his friends' human bodies. Sam touched his shoulder and gave him a look that asked "Are you alright? What was that?"
He sent her a look back that said "I'm fine, and I don't know." She frowned, but nodded.
Dan was turning slow circles in the air, frowning fiercely. He seemed to be tracking something he couldn't quite see. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he darted forward, shifting into invisibility. Danny swallowed nervously but leaned forward.
"There you are," Dan murmured as he reappeared, holding onto something still invisible, but as they watched green energy swirled in the air and, like a mirage, visibility slowly spread over someone else. Dan grinned fiercely and let go, content with having forced the other ghost to drop his invisibility. He floated back a few feet and looked appraisingly at the person he'd revealed as visibility flowed over the rest of his body.
There was no question that Dan cut an imposing figure. Over seven feet with his brilliantly flaming white hair, chest and shoulders bulging with muscle, inhuman red eyes set in a greenish-blue face, fanged mouth stretched impossibly wide in a cruel grin. His jumpsuit hugged every impressive contour of his musculature, and the cape from his shoulders made him seem even bigger.
His opponent was much less immediately powerful. He, too, was muscular, but he was leaner and shorter, just over six feet. His hair was blue and unmistakably gelled, matching undersized eyebrows and triangular markings sweeping from the outer corners of his eyes, which were also the same hue. He wore a white jacket open over his bare but crudely bandaged chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his lower half was clad in loose, pleated pants, better known as hakama. The only things that proved immediately disconcerting about his appearance were the mask on his left cheek, like the toothy jawbone of some feline creature, and the neat, round hole in his abdomen large enough to fit a softball.
But there was something else. Dan radiated power, certainly, an aura of intangible fear and the promise of pain. But the stranger exuded pressure, thickening the air. Beside Danny in his hiding place, Sam gasped ineffectually for breath, Tucker's unconscious form already slumped against the wall.
The stranger sauntered forward in the air—and yes, it really was sauntering, as though the air was a solid platform, not the fluid glide of ghostly flight. His lazy smirk spread into a grin, and Danny saw with horror that it gave Dan a run for his money.
"Name's Grimmjow Jeagerjacques, bitch," he purred, and while his voice wasn't quite like Dan's baritone drawl, it was no less threatening. Even the name was foreign—most ghosts chose fairly simple names for themselves with roots in their obsessions or their past. However, the name suited him. Grimmjow. Raw, uncontained power.
Dan quirked an eyebrow, rising a bit higher in the air so he could look down on the newcomer. His red eyes burned. "Bitch?" he questioned arrogantly, as if he expected Grimmjow to suddenly quail and cower before his might.
Grimmjow just grinned. "Fuck yeah, bitch. That enough reason for you to fight me?"
The powerful ghost flung his head back and laughed. The sound sent chills down Danny's spine. That laughter would haunt his nightmares, he knew.
"I suppose I might have some time to play…"
Green fire crackled around black-gloved hands, expanding into a massive ecto-blast of the variety that could level skyscrapers in one hit. Danny winced and turned away, noting with dim horror that Sam was now comatose as well, overwhelmed by the pressure. Tucker was bleeding from one ear. Icy panic gripped him, and, no longer caring if Valerie could detect his ghost powers—what did it matter if she might try to kill him later? If he didn't do this he would definitely be dead!—Danny covered their hiding place with a dome shield just in time as blinding light exploded. He felt the pressure disappear from his soul, and Sam stirred behind him. Danny sighed in relief that turned to confused shock as he saw liquid ectoplasm seeping from the glassy surface of his shield, beading and rolling down to pool at his knees.
Frowning, he dissipated the shield only to feel the pressure return with a vengeance. Danny faltered with shock before putting the shield back up and cutting off the flow.
Huh. That was…weird.
He turned his attention back outside and in amazement stared at Grimmjow, standing unmarked in the air. One slender forearm was lifted to shield his face.
The other hand was still in his pocket.
"What kind of shit Cero was that?" he laughed, and the exhilarated light of battle in his blue eyes terrified Danny even from behind the rippling green shield.
Dan scowled. Grimmjow hadn't been destroyed. He hadn't hit the ground or a building hard enough to make a crater. Hell, he hadn't even moved. He wasn't used to being defied like this. Even Valerie, that thorn in his side, knew to at least dodge.
There was an odd buzzing sound, and suddenly Grimmjow was behind him. Dan hastily opened a hole in his torso, barely large enough to accommodate the arm that suddenly speared through him from behind.
"Reishi manipulation?" Grimmjow sounded surprised as he withdrew his arm. Another buzz, and he was standing in front of Dan again. His stunted blue eyebrows lifted as he gave Dan another once-over, and then it was his turn to fling back his head and laugh. It was higher than Dan's, more unhinged, and Danny was surprised to discover that, if possible, it scared him more.
"Ohhh," he chortled. "You're one of those ghosts, what with your fucked-up ecto-whatever. No wonder I can't sense your reiatsu!"
Danny was shocked. What was reiatsu, and why didn't he know what ectoplasm was? Wasn't Grimmjow a ghost? He was flying—he'd even been invisible earlier! By the look on his face, Dan didn't have any more of an idea what Grimmjow was talking about than his younger self.
Grimmjow snorted. "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to explain this shit to you." He took another look at Dan's uncomprehending expression and facepalmed.
"Reiatsu is spirit pressure. It's made by human souls. But you ghosts or whatever you call yourself exchange it for ectoplasm, which ain't so evolved. You can mess with your environment and manipulate your reishi easier, but you're fucked if you go up against somebody with reiatsu."
Dan growled and charged another ecto-blast, this one even more powerful. "Not so evolved? Oh, I'll show you not so evolved!" His fury was plainly visible. He was king here, not this blue-haired bastard who came out of nowhere.
Danny hastily threw more power into his shield, arms shaking as he fought to keep out the backlash of the explosion and not let that crushing…reiatsu, or whatever it was, in. It was hurting Sam and Tucker, and this ectoplasm shield was apparently keeping it out of the little cavern they hid in. He shot another glance at the weeping liquid trailing down the shield and rethought it. Maybe the solid less-evolved barrier wasn't keeping out the reiatsu, it was merely devolving it, like his parent's ecto-converter changed ectoplasm to electricity. And Sam and Tucker could deal with ectoplasm—they hung out with him, half-ghost extraordinaire, for god's sake.
As Danny had now rather expected, Grimmjow was still unscathed.
Dan snarled and discarded ranged attacks as a failure, instead flicking invisible and darting in to slam a fist into Grimmjow's face—except Grimmjow didn't look surprised at all. Dan grunted in pain as the force of the punch, enough to knock anyone else from the air and crater the ground, jarred back his arm viciously as it met with Grimmjow's unmoving fist as he caught it. "The hell…? Impossible!"
"Couple more things," Grimmjow purred. "What you call invisibility? S'not that good. Any soul can see it. Even humans with high enough reiatsu! And forget trying to fool an Arrancar like me. Your visibility's pretty damn weird though. Coating your reishi with ectoplasm or something like that." Dan's eyes suddenly widened, and he howled in pain as Grimmjow effortlessly crushed his fist. "Oh, and funny thing about reiatsu. Doesn't matter who's attacking." He flung out the arm still holding Dan and sent him crashing through a precarious skyscraper, causing it to tumble down on top of the ghost. Grimmjow laughed and was waiting for Dan when he floated intangibly from the wreckage, looking slightly dazed and worse for wear. Another buzz and Grimmjow was suddenly right in Dan's face. "It's the one with lower reiatsu who gets hurt."
Dan's eyes widened and he hissed a curse as he realized that this was not a fight he wanted to continue. He swooped away from Grimmjow and held out one hand, a swirling green portal opening to the Ghost Zone. Grimmjow snorted and caught the end of Dan's cape, yanking him back and driving him ruthlessly into the pavement, cracking it with Dan's body. He crouched on Dan's back, one foot on his lower back, the other right between his shoulders, one hand holding Dan's shoulder in an iron grip.
"Coward!" he mocked, his disturbing cackle echoing eerily amongst the twisted rubble. "You never run away from a fight! I was gonna just kill you…but you know, I'm still kinda weak after that fight with Kurosaki."
Danny felt sick, cold dread coiling in his stomach. But it was like a car crash—no matter how much he wanted to look away, he couldn't. He was glad, in that moment, that Sam and Tucker were unconscious behind him. At least they wouldn't have to see this.
"You know what I am, fucker?" Grimmjow continued nonchalantly. "I'm a Hollow. An Arrancar, to be specific. And you know how Hollows get more powerful?"
Dan snarled wordlessly into the pavement, ectoplasm leaking from his mouth. Several ribs and his jaw were shattered, too much of an injury for such a small impact, but it probably had something to do with what Grimmjow had said, about the ones with lower reiatsu getting hurt. Danny got the feeling that the only reason he wasn't screaming curses at the other spirit was the aforementioned jaw injury.
Grimmjow leaned closer. "We eat souls," he hissed. "Normally I wouldn't go for small fry"—Dan snarled again at the derisive jab—"like you, but I'm not in Hueco Mundo right now. There aren't any Gillians I can eat for a quick boost…" His voice became even more deadly and horrifying. "…and right now you're the strongest soul here. I always was kinda curious what ectoplasm tasted like."
Danny had never wanted to look away more than in that instant. With a crack of bone and a nauseating slurp, the Hollow sank his teeth into Dan's temple and tore, thick green liquid splattering his chin and neck.
The agonized scream lasted only a few seconds before second death choked it, but it seemed like an eternity.
Sam groaned and opened her eyes. Her head felt like someone had taken out her brain, squeezed in a vice, and replaced it. Danny was staring forward blankly, eyes too wide, expression one of dazed, fascinated horror. It was similar to the one he got sometimes when they watched a particularly vicious horror movie of the splatter variety, but he never looked quite this…disturbed. She touched his shoulder, and he jumped, turning haunted eyes to her.
"We need to get out of here," he hissed.
Sam's mind churned frantically before she hit on the memory of being dragged to Clockwork's lair by Skulktech when his (their?) time medallion fell off. She didn't know if they'd be brought to Clockwork's lair or back home, but judging from Danny's expression, anything would be better than here. She grabbed Tucker's arm—he was still unconscious—and yanked his time medallion over his head. Her medallion still anchored him to this time.
"Danny!" she hissed. "Take off the medallion!" He blinked at her, uncomprehending. Oh fuck. Whatever he'd seen had really done a number on him. She took a gamble and let go of Tucker, sliding the time medallion over Danny's head and dropping it before doing the same with her own.
Space and time warped around them and they were surrounded in a vague, nightmarish confusion of blue light and the cacophonous sounds of ticking and the eerie peals of deep bells before it all resolved into a familiar alley just outside the Nasty Burger, warm afternoon light painting the city—the living, unharmed, gloriously intact city of Amity Park—with soft gold, and Sam had never been more glad to see the Sun. Danny retched beside her, overwhelmed by horrors only he had witnessed. Tucker whimpered, eyes moving beneath his lids, and she knew he was going to be okay.
She also knew that she would do absolutely whatever it took to prevent that future. Danny looked at her, blue eyes empty and blank with terror, and she couldn't help but pull him into a fierce hug, struggling to keep from sobbing and she knew he was doing the same. He was trembling in her embrace, and for once she was glad that his sister was a burgeoning psychologist. He looked nothing if not traumatized right now, and while Jazz was overbearing sometimes there was no question that she loved her little brother.
Footsteps sounded in the alley. Speak of the devil. Jazz looked determined and stern, but that expression disappeared when she saw Danny, pale and shaking and covered in sweat, holding onto Sam for dear life. She ran to his side and wrapped her arms around him. The test confrontation could wait.
Ten years later, Grimmjow Jeagerjacques stood and dragged a hand across his mouth before opening a garganta to Hueco Mundo and disappearing from the world of the living.
