AN: OK, so, there was a guest who reviewed the note at the end of the FIRST Magical asking for more on this site. And, OK, yeah, I get it - having to go to anther website just for ONE fic is a pain in the butt. So I'm willing to cross-post my stuff. It's going to go up on Ao3 first, though, if that's important to you.
Chapter One
Deep in the Ghost Zone, well past places any sane specter would hesitate to enter without at least a few friends for backup, floats the dome-shaped headquarters of the Council of Observants. According to the Council, they see all and know all, and their decisions are infinitely wise and take into account the well being of the entire Ghost Zone (and, perhaps, the Real World as well). They are, though they themselves would never admit it, very dramatic.
When they order a ghost arrested and brought before them for trial, they dramatically read out a list of past and future crimes before dramatically declaring the prisoner's sentence. When everything is well, they dramatically congratulate one another. When things are...not so well, they dramatically blow everything out of proportion. When they see a true disaster on the horizon? They send a pair of Observants to see Clockwork, the Master of Time, who really does know everything, and they dramatically demand that he do something to fix it.
This story begins with two Observants flying toward Clockwork's lair at their top speed.
"Clockwork, something terrible has happened!" the Observant on the right shouted, eye bulging, as he and his companion burst through the double doors of the enormous clock tower that their associate called home.
"You can no longer see the actions, past, present, or future, of Tom Marvolo Riddle, or the fate of the world in which he resides," a deep voice stated from the shadows.
"Yes," the Observant on the left said, somewhat calmer than his partner. "We have come—"
"To find out why this is, how to fix it, and what Tom is going to do," Clockwork interrupted.
"Yes," said the Observant on the right, clawed fingers brushing against his cloak, agitatedly.
"You cannot see Tom because he has broken the bonds of his destiny," Clockwork sighed, floating out of the shadows, a grim expression on his weathered face. "He has used forbidden magic ot force himself out of alignment with the time-stream."
"Then he must be destroyed." The Observants spoke in unison, somber.
"That may prove to be difficult," Clockwork said, his unchanged expression somewhat out of place on his chubby cheeked baby face. "I am unable to interfere with him myself, and am barely able to see his future." Using his staff, Clockwork gestured to the circular screen nearest his guests. Somberly, the three ghosts watched as a pale man with red eyes and slit nostrils set in a shockingly nose-less face laughed, high pitched and cold, as he watched figures in skull masks pursue a screaming woman, trying in vain to flee over broken concrete while already limping. In a wash of static, the scene shifted to show the Ghost Zone being invaded by masked wizards and witches on brooms, hexing any ghost unlucky enough to cross their path, the broken remains of the Council Building barely visible in the background.
"How can this be prevented?" one of the Observants demanded, while the other clenched his fists and stared and the view-screen, trembling.
"We must send our own agent who has broken from destiny, a master of his own fate able to ignore prophecy and choose his own path, to oppose Tom." Clockwork turned to face the Observants, his red eyes glowing brightly. "Only Danny Phantom can save us now."
"Are you certain?" an Observant asked, skepticism oozing from his tone and posture. Clockwork only nodded, face, now in his prime, as solemn as ever.
"Very well," the other Observant sighed. "But remember: Danny Phantom is your responsibility, Clockwork. If he fails, or if he turns and joins Tom, the fate of our world will be on your head."
"He will not fail," Clockwork stated confidently, as the Observants departed. "I hope," he whispered, turning away from the door and clutching his staff with both hands as, on the screen, the army of wizards reached his tower, blasting the walls apart with hexes while their master urged them on with madness in his eyes.