I'm probably mad taking this on, given I already have one project going and I'm co-writing another. Still, I reckon I can get it done.

For those who haven't been following this account, this story is set in the same universe as my Gravity Falls fics, Forever Autumn 1 and 2. Reading the other two is not required (if I'm doing my job right), but may improve your reading experience.

Here's hoping you like it. Let's get going.

Prologue

As the six scribes ventured up the river, they encountered a phalanx of soldiers from a neighbouring kingdom. The commanding general called out to them, demanding them to stop immediately, for he suspected that the scribes and their brothers were the cause of the drought.

The scribes knew they could not stop, so they ran. The soldiers turned to face them, but their formations were too rigid to catch the nimble scribes, and they escaped up the river. As they fled into the distance, the general cursed them and lay blame of all his problems on them. For the general had lost much and had become forlorn and desperate, and war and hate was all he had left.

- The Tale of the Six Scribes – R.E.R.E. archives, Hereford, Great Britain

TRSM ENCRYPT: CAESAR 3LB

MESSAGE READS: 26-8-15-6-18-16-8 23-18 23-11-8 4-21-18-24-8-23 17-8-23-26-18-21-14 22-23-4-17-7 5-2 9-18-21 9-24-21-23-11-8-21 23-21-4-17-22-16-12-22-22-12-18-17-22

Canberra, Australia – March 2018.

Captain James Monroe had woken up this morning believing his world to be fairly straightforward. Everything had a logical explanation in this world. Ghosts were not real. Magic was just a fairy tale. Conspiracy theorists were full of it. The Government were a pack of crooks.

Now, as he sat at the table in the darkened room, he began to realise that only the last of those safe, comfortable facts was truly accurate.

In front of him, an American army officer – dark-skinned and of average build, but with a gaze that betrayed a far more dangerous man – stood next to a slideshow projected on the wall, using a ruler to point things out. A slightly wild-haired man in a shirt, tie and leather jacket, the latter marked 'ASIO', sat next to him, his arms crossed. The rest of the room was shrouded in darkness.

"We are living in a brave new world," declared the American, "Our new enemies hide in darkness and secrecy, and we must adopt their tactics to bring them into the light."

He pointed to a duo of figures on the board – a young man in a dishevelled suit and loose tie with a blue-and-white pine-tree hat, and a woman with long red hair and a variety of flannel under a brown bomber jacket. The figures were labelled 'Freelance Paranormal Investigators', complete with air quotes.

"We are already behind, gentlemen," continued the American, "We have private citizens trying to handle paranormal affairs themselves, to say nothing of R.E.R.E.'s inadequate handling of such things. We need to get into gear."

"And how does this concern Australia, Major Hohenbecker?" demanded the man from ASIO.

Major Hohenbecker nodded, pressing his ruler against the slideshow. The slide changed, now displaying a white-haired, pale man in a black-and-white jumpsuit.

"This is Danny Phantom," he said, "He was declared an enemy of the state late last year, but he escaped apprehension. He and his sister were spotted in Sydney earlier this week."

"Why is this bloke an enemy of state?" asked Monroe, "He looks harmless enough."

"He represents one of the largest security threats known to man," replied Hohenbecker, "He can become intangible. He can become invisible. He can fly and he has a variety of offensive ectoplasm-based attacks. His mere existence is a danger to every man, woman and child on this planet."

"Still don't see why that makes him a bad guy, sir," mused Monroe.

"It's a precaution, Captain," shrugged the man from ASIO, "What happens if the guy decides to become a criminal or a spy for the Russians or something?"

"The Cold War is over, Mr. Blake," said Monroe, crossing his arms, "It ended."

"Point still stands," retorted Mr. Blake, "He's a security risk."

Hohenbecker nodded.

"We can't work with his kind, Captain," he said, "They live only to destroy. Pray you'll never have to understand that."

Monroe sighed and shrugged.

"Alright then," he said, slightly hesitantly, "How do we get this guy?"

"That is a problem," agreed Mr. Blake, "ASIO's experience on these matters is...limited. We'll have to outsource."

"Task Force Vulture will arrive on Australian soil within the month," replied Hohenbecker.

"Task Force who?" quizzed Monroe.

"Vulture," replied Mr. Blake, "Crack anti-paranormal commandoes, Captain. They're under the direct authority of the Department of Defence."

"A damn sight better then the GIW or the All-Seeing Eye ever were," added Hohenbecker, "But you'll need to handle this locally until they arrive. I recommend hiring an expert."

"Well, that sounds easy," grumbled Mr. Blake, "I'll just go hire the bloody Ghostbusters..."

"No need," said Hohenbecker, "I have a dossier from a benefactor of mine. A Mr. Vlad Masters."

He reached into the jacket of his uniform and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Mr. Blake. The man from ASIO opened it and whistled.

"Red Huntress, eh?" he read, "Nice name."

He looked over to the darkness on the other side of the table.

"Is this approved, ma'am?" he asked.

A voice echoed from the shadows.

"Approved and recommended, Mr. Blake," she replied.

"Alright then, Minister Williams," nodded Mr. Blake, "Let's get this done."

AN: Much conspiracy. Such sinister.