Ultimate Danny Phantom

by Grumbles

Impossible choices. Webs within webs. Gods and monsters. The righteous path is not easily tread. -now under heavy revision-

3. You Will Remember My Name

You Will Remember My Name

"That tears it; the second we get back to my place, I am unplugging that damn portal."

Sam and Tucker jogged up behind where their friend was standing. The three had been wrapping up a Sunday night study session at Sam's house when Danny's ghost sense alerted them to a nearby extra-dimensional malefactor. They had chased it for over thirty minutes, eventually leading to a park where the trio had lost sight of the ghost.

"I share the feeling, but then your parents would definitely kill you," Tucker said. He had lost most of the muscle mass from his encounter with the dragon ghost only a month before, but his shirt still fit snugly around what remained.

"I'm already riding that line with my extracurricular activities," Danny said, floating up off the ground to get a better view of the area. "It's bound to happen sooner or later."

"I prefer later," Sam chimed in. "As in never."

"Yeah, well…" Danny trailed off. "Oh, there it is! Tucker, soup me."

He saw Sam roll her eyes as Tucker unclipped a Fenton Thermos from his belt. "Please don't make that a catch phrase."

"Tucker, that is definitely becoming one of my catch phrases," Danny said, catching the other boy's toss. Sam huffed and crossed her arms.

"Roger that, Ghost Boy. You want us to do anything?"

"First, don't call me that. Second… uh, I dunno, flank him?"

"You want us to flank a ghost?" Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"You want us to use our bodies to try to block off something that can walk through walls?"

"Well geeze, Sam, when you say it like that, it sounds like a bad idea," Danny said with a cheeky grin. He took off into the sky, only glancing back to see which direction his friends had taken.

Satisfied with his plan, Danny circled higher and higher around the ghost, planning on the best direction from which to attack. He readied the thermos and dropped into a freefall. The wind stung at his face, drawing tears from his eyesand sending his white hair flailing about. He began propelling himself faster towards the ground, gaining even more speed. Danny repositioned himself and aimed straight for the ghost, pushing forward with more power; his finger hovered over the thermos's activation button.

Finally in range, he pressed the button and watched a silver beam of light streak out from the thermos – and completely miss the green puppy ghost as it darted away, yapping excitedly at a rabbit.

"Son of a bitch," Danny growled through clenched teeth, eyeing the dog as it disappeared behind a bush. He had only a few milliseconds to begin to appreciate the double entendre of his comment before he collided bodily with one of the many trees planted in the area, his speed preventing him from avoiding it. His injuries were both many and serious and the tree had cracked and splintered on impact. Unlike the thermos he had been holding, Danny's body quickly got busy repairing itself.

"Dude!" Tucker shouted from a distance. "What happened?!"

Danny's injuries were simultaneously disgusting and hilarious. He wobbled back from the tree with one knee bending the wrong way; his neck and head were firmly planted on his shoulder horizontally. One side of his face was crunched in by the force of the impact and fragments of his jaw stuck out from under his lip. "Phhhhhbbbbttbtb?!" What the hell do you think happened?!

Finally having reached their friend, Sam laughed heartily. This caused Danny's unsightly visage to contort even further in annoyance. Tucker smiled weakly and averted his gaze. The repairs to Danny's body were taking even less time than usual, and he was mostly restored within a minute. "That stupid mutt," Danny spoke, his broken jaw fully healed. "Chased off after a rabbit, moved out of the way just in time. I was so close!"

"You should be more careful," Tucker said softly. "I know you're pretty much invincible, but we don't know the limits your body can take."

"I thought the ghost dragon told you Danny was some kind of god who could rend the Earth in twain?" Sam asked.

Tucker shot her a perturbed look. "He didn't say it quite like that."

"Look," Danny stepped in to shut down what sounded like an argument in the making. "I don't know if I even have upper limits." Tucker rolled his eyes. "But! But, you're right, maybe I do. I probably do. I guess it wouldn't hurt to work on some control." The suggestion appeared to sit well with Tucker, who nodded in agreement.

"I think you need to get your old colors back first," Sam said.

"That I can agree on," Tucker added. "The white-with-black is not working for you at all, what with your ghost hair."

Now it was Danny's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, sure, next time I step into a portal to another dimension I'll be sure to bring a few extra suits with me before I turn it on and zap myself, how's that?"

His friends chuckled, bringing a smile to his face as well. With his original suit ruined beyond recognition, he had needed a replacement. His parents had custom-ordered several suits each for Danny and Jazz well before the activation of the portal; Danny's original suits were all white with black accents. At first the colors of his new suit hadn't bothered him, but the ribbing from both Sam and Tucker had now made him self-conscious.

"This has been fun and all, but it is now," Tucker pulled out his cell phone, "11:45! Wonderful."

Danny and Sam exchanged uncomfortable glances, knowing what was coming. "Broke curfew?" Sam asked.

"Yup," Tucker replied tersely. "Bad enough my dad hates your parents now," he said to Danny. "He's not going to be happy knowing I broke curfew to hang out with you."

"Tucker, listen," Danny started, "what happened with-"

"Let's not do this now." Tucker cut in sharply. "We'll talk in school or something, I've gotta go."

Danny and Sam waved half-heartedly as Tucker jogged off.

"Why'd you go and push him?" Sam whispered irritablywhen Tucker was far enough away. "You know it sets him off, on top of everything else he's going through-"

"You're the one cracking jokes about it! Besides, you think I wanted to?" Danny was suddenly aware he was standing in the middle of a public park in his ghost form. He turned invisible and sped off into a nearby bush, transformed, and hurried back to Sam. "...What was I saying?"

"About Tucker…?"

"Oh! Yeah, Sam, I don't want to talk about it, it's crazy awkward, but we can't just let him bottle it all up inside."

"If he needs to talk to someone, he can go to a shrink. He doesn't have to talk to us, or anyone if he doesn't want to," Sam protested, walking briskly back the way they had come.

"He's not the kind of guy to open up about feelings," Danny countered, idly playing with the destroyed thermos. He would have to deal with that headache later. "We're his friends, we need to be there for him, you know that."

"What I don't know is what it's like to have a monster inside your head, controlling your body like a puppet," Sam shot back. "What I don't know is what it's like to be helpless as your body is used to kill over a dozen people, including your best friend! Even if you didn't actually die… but still!" Danny was having trouble keeping up with Sam's quickened pace. "Tucker knows more about that stuff than anyone else on the planet now. Do you really want to force him to relive all that?"

"No, of course not," Danny admitted. Sam stopped to look at him. "But what can we do? What are we supposed to do?"

The two stood awkwardly on the sidewalk, staring into each other's eyes. Neither was accustomed to such concentrated desperation. "I don't know," Sam relented quietly, finally breaking eye contact.

The two continued their walk, now at a much slower pace. Unlike Tucker, Sam and Danny cared very little about breaking curfew. The minutes passed in silence until Sam's house came into view.

"We'll think of something," Danny offered finally. It was an unsatisfying conclusion, but it was all he could think to say. Sam nodded unconvincingly.

"Sorry I was rough on you before," she said upon reaching her stoop. She patted Danny on the shoulder before heading up to her door. "You're a good guy, Danny."

He certainly didn't feel like a good guy. With Sam inside, Danny made his way into an alley to transform. Normally, flying above the city on a peaceful night would relax him and put all his problems in perspective. On this night, however, not even the magnificent sight of the cottony tops of clouds softly illuminated by moonlight could raise his spirits.

---

Something had awoken Jack earlier than usual, long before Danny left for school that Monday. He chalked it up to his acid reflux and lumbered down the hall and into the bathroom, his feet shuffling softly in the hallway despite his great size. He chose to use touch to find his pills in the medicine cabinet rather than blind himself with the bathroom lights. His night vision slowly improved and he could just make out his outline in the mirror over the sink as he ingested the generic brand medication. Something nagged him all the way back down the hall to his bedroom. He stopped at the top of the stairs, absently looking down into the darkened foyer while he racked his foggy brain.

Jack slowly descended the staircase instead of returning to bed. To his left, the foyer at base of the stairs opened into the living room; to the right behind a closed door, a long-unused office. While the darkness of the night obscured the details, Jack knew exactly what was inside before he even opened the door. Boxes upon boxes lined the walls, even blocking out the lone window. Inside these boxes was history – records, reports, data of all kinds, all of it from the Ghost Wars. Most of these files were copies; the originals were locked away, probably in some government warehouse.

While the boxes of paper files were attention-worthy in their own right, Jack found himself drawn to the dusty computer sitting neglected on a wooden desk against the far wall. The computer triggered something in Jack's memory and suddenly, as if he had received an electric shock, he was wide awake. He quickly maneuvered into the chair and activated the machine. Several seconds passed. Then a minute. Jack remembered this computer was an older model; it took a while to start up. He took the opportunity to make a hasty retreat upstairs to summon his wife. Moments later they both entered the room, which was now dimly lit from the small monitor. Shadows from the boxes flickered as the screen displayed different images and text prompts.

"What is this about?" Maddie asked, failing to stifle a yawn. Her teal bathrobe hung open, revealing an orange nightgown beneath.

"I could kick myself, Maddie," Jack replied in a hushed yet urgent voice. "This whole time, we had another source, but never even thought to consider it."

"Another source of what?"

"The truth." Jack logged onto the computer and navigated his way to a desktop icon. The icon itself was an image of a monitor screen. Directly beneath it were the words "Security Feed".

Jack felt his wife's hand rest lazily on his bare shoulder. He double-clicked the icon, and the custom-made FentonWorks software booted up. Maddie's hand tensed. He continued to navigate through menus until he found what he was looking for – the date the Fenton Ghost Portal Mark 2 went active in their basement. The feed from cameras around the property uploaded their contents into the computer every twelve hours. Every month, the data for that month was compressed into a marked file for easy storage. Their computer was state-of-the-art for its time, and with some tweaking from an old friend, the computer was able to store terabytes of data. Jack had little trouble finding what he was looking for.

"This whole time, we took Danny at his word. We were so caught up in the portal working we didn't even question it. But with everything we've seen, with everything that's happened…"

"Are we really so oblivious?" Maddie's voice was sullen. "This should have been the first thing we did."

"I forget we even have this room half the time, let alone this old computer," Jack remarked. He reached up and took Maddie's hand in his own. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

With his free hand, he navigated to a specific timeframe and played the video recording. The two watched as their son stood in the lab with Sam and Tucker. Danny had donned one of his protective white HAZMAT suits and cautiously stepped into the portal. He disappeared within its cavernous depths. For barely a few milliseconds a flash of green could be seen from the portal before the display from the feed went to static and the camera feed cut out. The static eventually cleared up to show both himself and his wife working in the lab. The portal, previously empty, was now filled with the swirling green energy of the Ghost Zone. The time was several hours later; Danny and his friends were nowhere to be seen.

Jack and Maddie were silent. Jack released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He rewound the feed and played it again, watching the events right up until the static blocked out the feed. Images from the major ghost encounters over the last few months began to play through his mind. Jack found himself drawn to the memories not of the powerful aggressor ghosts, but to the scrawny and unsettlingly familiar Ghost Boy.

"Does Danny know about this? The recordings?" Maddie's voice was soft with a defeated aura. Jack figured she was having similar thoughts of the white haired, green-eyed boy, roughly the same height and build as their son.

"I, uh…" Jack trailed off, momentarily losing his train of thought. He rewound and froze the recording just as the flicker of green light could be seen from within the portal. "I don't think so." Jack could hear his heart pounding in his ears. A bead of sweat fell from his forehead and onto the dusty keyboard. The Ghost Boy's sudden appearance, the activation of the portal – pieces of a very uncomfortable puzzle were finally falling into place.

The sound of Maddie's ringtone caused them both to jump. She fumbled to grab the phone out of her robe pocket and paused once she saw the caller ID. Jack noticed she hesitated before answering. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Danny's voice replied, just loud enough that Jack could hear. "Wanted to call and let you know I'm gonna be a little late getting home."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Well, you know, studying and everything…" Danny trailed off. "Actually, it's Tucker. I'm worried about him, after what happened with the, uh, dragon ghost. He doesn't seem like himself." He paused again. "I wish I was more like Jazz. You know, so I could help him like she could."

The grip of uncertainty and queasiness which had worked its way into Jack's chest began to evaporate. He motioned for Maddie to hand him the phone – she was noticeably less tense as she did so. "Hey, kiddo," he spoke, finding his voice.

"Hey, Dad."

"Son, your sister is wonderful at helping people, but she isn't what Tucker needs. He needs his friends most of all right now. Tucker's a smart kid; he knows you can't relate to what he's been through. Just be there for him when he needs you."

"It also wouldn't hurt to gently encourage him to seek help, if it looks like he is struggling," Maddie added thoughtfully.

"What did Mom say?" Danny asked.

"She said you are way past curfew, and now you have to clean out my shed."

"Ha ha… oh, yeah, I guess I am late."

Jack assumed Danny only just then realized it was 12:45 am. "Just be safe getting home, we'll talk about the shed later."

"Okay. See you guys in a bit, love you, bye."

With that, the line went dead. Jack and Maddie were still alone in the dimly lit office. "I don't care what that is telling us," Maddie pointed at the computer. "That's still our boy we just talked to; still the same Danny he was before. Even…"

"Even if something did happen," Jack finished, swiveling around to take one last, hard look at the monitor. "Even if Danny is the Ghost Boy."

---

Very few ghosts had ever truly captured the attention of Ember McLain. She preferred the flashy, materialistic lifestyles of her human celebrity colleagues over the primitive and violent nature of her kin. There had been several close encounters with powerful ghosts during her years on Earth – the Fright Knight, Box Ghost, the devastatingly handsome Skulker – but none of those encounters had been as strange as the surprise visit from a nasally little ghost calling itself "Technus".

"My master is not asking for much, only a simple detour from your planned schedule."

Ember was still attempting to wrap her mind around the idea of Technus. He had loudly elaborated on his origins when he first appeared right out of her iPad and into her tour bus; she didn't understand all of the jargon, but enough to understand that Technus was not "born" like other ectosapiens – he was created. His unusual origin story would certainly explain his unusual body; a cloud of green binary cobbled into a roughly humanoid form, as if an afterthought for her convenience.

"That is absolutely out of the question," she snapped. "Do you know where we are right now?"

"An easy question," Technus scoffed. "We are currently en route to New York City, travelling south along-"

"New York City," Ember interrupted. "We're on the East Coast. You're master wants me to drop my entire tour to hit my final destination in Amity Park – on the other side of the country – by the end of the week?"

"Yes, I believe I already iterated my master's request."

"Don't get smart with me." Ember stood from her couch and began to pace. "This isn't even about money; not entirely. This is my first cross-country tour; dropping so many stops along the way would really throw a wrench into my plans. Not to mention my career." Ember noticed several of Technus's eyes – or what were probably his eyes – following her flaming hair as it loftily trailed along behind her. The tour bus was darkened for a moment as it passed through a small tunnel. The blue light from Ember's hair danced around the bus before the sun illuminated the interior once again.

"We have considered the possible damage to your… career." Ember snarled at the insincerity in Technus's voice. "I am prepared to instantaneously transport you, your crew, and your gear to Amity Park and I can return you to New York City before your scheduled event."

She stopped pacing. "Can you guarantee this won't interfere with my tour?"

"As a gesture of good faith, my master has already deposited a sizeable down payment into your personal banking account. You may verify this if you wish."Ember retrieved her iPad from the couch and logged into her banking account. Technus was right; it was a sizeable down payment. "My master is willing to pay four times that amount as compensation for services rendered."

Ember couldn't stop the childish grin that spread across her face. The more this cloud of ones and zeroes talks, the better this gig sounds. "Just one thing," she started, regaining her composure. "How do you plan on moving all of my equipment across the country?"

"The tunnel we passed through moments ago was a portal created by the Box Ghost. You are roughly fifty kilometers from Amity Park."

Ember's eyes widened and she darted to the front of the tour bus. Her ghostly driver did not seem bothered by the change of scenery. "The Box Ghost did this?" she murmured. She knew he was powerful, but this...

"And he will happily transport you back to New York City in time for your next concert. With these matters settled, can my master count on you to perform the task as requested?"

"All of this just so I can cast some spells on a dorky Ghost Kid?" she chuckled and turned to face Technus. "Tell your master it's a deal."

Technus made a motion that looked like it might have been a nod. He then vanished back into Ember's iPad, which she was still holding. Ember gingerly set the device down on the empty passenger seat and returned to the couch. Across from her seat, a gunmetal grey Gibson X-Plorer with neon blue and pink accents sat comfortably in its open case. A lone sapphire, roughly the size of a Clementine, was embedded in the body of the instrument. Ember delicately removed the guitar from the case, revealing a blade affixed to the longest edge of the body. She smiled as her fingers slid along the neck. The guitar hummed with ethereal energy in her grasp.

"That dipstick ain't gonna know what hit him."

---

At first, Tucker hadn't noticed the whispers. These whispers did not emanate from demonic voices trapped inside his skull; rather, they came from his classmates and faculty. The first few days of school for Tucker following winter break had been mentally exhausting. He had spent so much time trying – and failing miserably – to push the vivid images of carnage and gore from his mind. The effort had eventually desensitized him to it, although the implications of growing accustomed to it weighed heavily on his conscience. The school counselor had offered the same empty platitudes that had been offered by his father, his doctor at the hospital, Danny and Sam, and from Danny's parents during the limited time they were allowed to examine him following his possession. 'You couldn't control your actions', 'The ghost was way too powerful', 'You're lucky to even be alive', had all been thrown at him by people who cared enough to try and offer support. In the following weeks, all of these irritating attempts to get Tucker to open up about his feelings had been far surpassed by his now-most hated phrase in human history: 'It wasn't your fault'.

The time Tucker spent alone had allowed him to come to terms with his ordeal – or as much as he was able on his own. He knew that he wasn't in control, that Prince Aragon was a terrifyingly powerful foe, and that he was lucky to be alive. He also acknowledged that none of it was his fault. None of this made him feel any better.

Whose fault is it, then? My hands murdered those people. My body caused all the damage. I couldn't even twitch a finger against Aragon to stop him from killing Danny. Sure, that last one wasn't permanent, but at the time…

These torturous thoughts and more plagued his mind, wearing him down mentally and physically. Sam and Danny had remained steadfast friends throughout the ordeal and for that he was thankful, but Danny's continued insistence on discussing his feelings was unfathomably frustrating. How could he begin to explain the depths of his remorse and his guilt to the very two people he felt he had failed the most? Beyond the nightmares, beyond the self-deprecating thoughts and feelings, Tucker had tried the hardest to forget the vivid images that had played in his mind just before Aragon was driven out – more vivid than his strongest memories; he had seen horrible destruction in his mind's eye and somehow he knew, it was all yet to come.

"-heard he had horns growing out of his head." Another whisper danced past, just within earshot. Tucker turned to identify the source, but the crowds in the hall made that impossible to pick out the one individual voice out of hundreds.

"Hey, Tucker!" This voice was readily identifiable, both in tone and similarity; Kwan Sie – the tall, broad-shouldered partner-in-crime to Dash Baxter, strutted down the hall towards Tucker's locker; a small handful of letterman jacket-wearing friends in tow. "How ya doin, buddy?"

"Fine, thanks," Tucker murmured. He had been lost in self-deprecating thoughts and only then remembered he had stopped to collect his Algebra book for class.

"That's good, that's good, so hey, listen, Phil was telling us that he saw you shoot lasers out of your eyes at the mall, you know, back when you got possessed by that ghost? We were all wondering; think you can do it again? Give us a little light show?"

The snickers and playful elbowing from Kwan's posse only underscored the obvious – these kids were going to be trouble. Schools across the United States were required to instruct their pupils about the horrors inflicted by ghosts on humans during the Ghost Wars, and to hold human victims of possession free from any blame. In some instances, the indoctrination simply didn't stick.

"You know I can't do that, Kwan."

"Aww, how come?"

Tucker chose to ignore his harasser, but that did not dissuade Kwan, who slammed Tucker's locker shut in front of his face. "Leave me alone," Tucker hissed through clenched teeth. His eyes had begun to fog up.

"You heard him," a new voice announced. "Back off."

Tucker, Kwan and his friends all turned to see Dash standing menacingly only a few feet away. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was staring death at Kwan.

"Dude, what's your deal? We're just trying to get this freak to show off some ghost powers," Kwan explained, elbowing Tucker in the ribs.

"You think that's fucking funny?" Dash asked accusingly. He uncrossed his arms and began to close the gap between himself and Kwan. The rest of Kwan's friends awkwardly shuffled off. "Fifteen people died and you want to make jokes?"

"Yeah, dead because Foley-"

Had Tucker blinked, he would have missed the speed with which Dash slammed Kwan into the lockers, pressing his forearm against his teammate's neck. "Foley is a lot of things, but he's not a murderer. He didn't ask for that. Nobody in their right mind would ask for that, you understand?"

"Okay! Jesus, dude, what the hell is your problem?!" Kwan wriggled away from Dash's considerable grip.

"My problem is with little shits like you who take a miserable situation and blow it up a million times worse than it was." Dash was fuming, and Tucker could see the older boy's face visibly redden. "You get the hell out of here. If I see you or any of your little stooges pulling this shit again, I'm going break your goddamn legs."

Without another word Kwan ambled off, leaving Dash and Tucker alone in the hallway.

"Uh… thanks, man," Tucker offered cautiously. He thought of leaving it there, but his curiosity got the better of him. "What was that? Kwan's your friend, why'd you snap on him?"

"You want me to keep walking next time?"

"Wha- no! I mean-"

"I've got reasons, let's leave it at that," Dash interrupted.

"Sure, okay. Thanks again, man."

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class period. Dash nodded and strode away, his long legs carrying to his next classroom. Tucker headed for his own classroom, but paused after a few steps. Dash Baxter was willing to cut him a break. Maybe it was time he cut himself a break. And maybe it was about time he cut his friends a break, too.

---

There were many things Skulker enjoyed in his afterlife. He enjoyed the new wave stylings of The Artist Formerly Known as Prince. He enjoyed the taste of a subtle whiskey from time to time. He enjoyed the sensuous curves, flawless blue skin, and fiery temper of his former lover. Perhaps at the top of the list, certainly in his top five, Skulker greatly enjoyed being kept in the loop. Being left out of the loop was frustrating, especially when the loop included his sensuous, flawless, fiery, former lover.

Hi-Def telescoping optics did not lie; a tour bus with flamboyant pink and blue flame decals was barreling down the highway, only a few miles from the exit to Amity Park. Two semi-trucks followed at a distance, emblazoned with similar decals. All three vehicles bore the name "Ember" on their sides.

"This is Skulker," his synthesized voice boomed. "Please acknowledge."

"Go ahead," his employer replied without missing a beat.

"I believe a situation is developing in Amity Park." Skulker chose his words carefully so as to not accuse his employer of any intentional misdeeds. "Ember McLain is headed for Amity Park. Her latest tour has her scheduled to perform in New York City tomorrow night."

"Keeping tabs?"

"The schedule is publicly available information," Skulker stated monotonously.

The line was filled with soft static for a moment. "I have acquired her services for my latest test of Delta's abilities."

"You should have consulted with me. I am familiar with Ember McLain; my knowledge could be a valuable asset-"

"I am painfully aware of your intimate knowledge of Miss McLain. I have consulted with Technus, we concur that your personal feelings will jeopardize this mission. You are to observe the events as they play out. You are not to interfere unless circumstances threaten Delta's life. Do you understand your orders?"

"Affirmative," Skulker grumbled. "I still believe I should have been consulted, regardless of your ultimate decision regarding my active involvement."

"Duly noted. Report as ordered, I will contact you if circumstances change."

Skulker turned off his radio and silently fumed, but his self-centered frustration quickly gave way to concern for the children.

Tucker was in a fragile emotional state following his possession and near-death experience at the hands – or claws – of Prince Aragon. It was a harrowing experience for all three of them, and Skulker had detected significant shifts in Tucker's behavior; he had started exhibiting signs of depression. Samantha and Daniel were lost as to how to reach out to their friend. As devastating as Prince Aragon's visit to Earth had been, at the end of the day, he was only marginally more dangerous than most of the ghost monsters the Fentons had encountered during the Ghost Wars. Ember was a whole different kind of monster. She was at least as powerful as Prince Aragon, and she was without a doubt smarter. And then there was her guitar...

Skulker shuddered to think what horrors his employer had paid Ember to inflict upon these children. Daniel had barely survived his encounter with Prince Aragon, he would stand no chance against a more sinister and cunning opponent.

Why do I care? Ah, there it was; the 'voice of reason'. These are not my children. My task is to make sure they survive, nothing more.

His optics followed Ember's vehicle procession as it neared the city limits of Amity Park.

These children never asked for this life, but now dark forces manipulate them and twist them down a path which will destroy them; especially not in light of recent discoveries… I cannot – will not stand by and watch their future go up in flames.

His mind was made up; orders be damned. Skulker activated his jet pack, spinning up his onboard engine. Stabilizer wings rotated and unfolded from his back. Maneuvering thrusters on his heels and palms warmed up. His engine discharged, leaving a small crater in the concrete atop the Terror Tower where Skulker stood milliseconds before. He exploded through the sound barrier and rapidly closed the gap between the tower and Ember's caravan. This time, he would get there first.

---

"Did you get Tucker's text?" Sam asked as she and Danny exited their fourth period together.

"No, I'm not sneaky like you; I got caught the last time I tried that." He frowned, thinking about his string of failures. Unlike Sam and Tucker, who somehow never got caught using technology in class, he was forced to pay attention, not being able to distract himself from boring lectures like his friends without getting in trouble.

"He's in the computer lab, said he wants us to go there during lunch."

"Fine by me, I'm not really hungry." He thought about the words as he said them. It was strange; he hadn't been hungry the day before either. He also couldn't remember eating or drinking anything…

"I packed," Sam patted her messenger bag, her words jostling Danny from his thoughts.

The two headed down the halls of the building, worming their way through the hungry throngs of students as they filed into the cafeteria. The computer lab – the product of a generous donation by an alumnus– had been added onto the school the year before Danny had arrived. It was a beautiful addition to Casper High, and Danny noticed Tucker felt more at home in the lab than he did anywhere else, except perhaps his tech-heavy bedroom.

"Hey, guys," Tucker called from the far end of the room once they arrived. "What's up?"

"Not much, got the last algebra test back," Danny replied, going through the motions of small talk.

"Do better than last time?"

"Not really," Danny replied, slightly embarrassed.

Tucker nodded. "I guess that's as good a starting point as any. I'm sorry if I've been difficult to deal with lately. You guys are the only people in the world who have an idea about what I'm going through, and I feel like I've been pushing you away."

"Tucker," Sam started, "you haven't-"

"I'm not trying to play the pity card or anything," he continued, cutting Sam off. "And I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, but I know I can't turn all of this inward. I mean, look what happened when I'm not on my game; Danny needs me for math!"

"No argument here," Sam said, grinning at her mathematically challenged friend. "So does this mean you're feeling better?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I am. You were both there; you saw what happened, what Aragon… used my body to do." Tucker looked down at his hands, before clenching them into fists. "We can talk about stuff we'll all agree on until we're blue in the face, but I don't even know what to say."

"I'm not sure we even know what to ask," Danny added thoughtfully. "It's probably all the psychology stuff Jazz forced me to learn before she left for college. She says talking is good for us; helps, you know, vent all the bad feelings out."

"Wonderful insight, Dr. Phil," Sam muttered.

"But we don't know where to even start," Danny continued, casting a quick, angry glance at Sam. "If it wasn't helping, I'm sorry."

"You guys were just being good friends," Tucker said. "If it makes you feel better, my parents and I are talking about getting me in to see a counselor, so hopefully this all gets squared away soon."

"Well, see?" Sam patted Danny on the shoulder. "Mission accomplished, Danny."

Despite Tucker's calm and logical demeanor, Danny sensed that what was troubling him was much deeper than his friend was letting on. His musings were interrupted as the distant wail of the Ghost Sirens alerted the trio to the presence of a new ghostly malefactor. "Let's try to pick this up later tonight, if you want," Danny suggested as he made his way for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam asked irritably.

"I've got to check out whatever that-" he gestured out the windows "-is; try to cover for me in English class if you can, I'll be back soon, promise." Danny hurried out of the computer lab. Even as those last words left his mouth, Danny knew that he couldn't keep that promise; the Ghost Sirens only activated if the early warning detection grid picked up a powerful enough energy signature, meaning either a wayward pack of lower level ghosts, or something much worse. These days, "much worse" was becoming more commonplace.

"Be careful," Tucker warned. "Please."

Danny nodded and hurried out of the lab, down the hall, and into a bathroom. Certain he was safe from prying eyes he transformed and flew out of the school. A pillar of smoke in the distance, several miles out from the city, was more than he could have asked for in guiding him to the source of the trouble. He just hoped it wasn't more trouble than he could handle.

---

There was a time in Ember's afterlife when she was one of the trillions of frightened and displaced refugees fleeing the war-torn habitable zones of the Void as a monstrous entity fought to bring the Echoes of Earth under his control. Skulker had saved her life. The friendship and romance that followed was one of the few truly positive experiences Ember could recall in her entire long-lived existence; it had also made their separation that much more sour.

No matter how bitter their break-up had been, Ember never would have expected blind aggression from the tiny green ghost. Much later she would discover why Skulker had utilized an electro-magnetic pulse weapon to disable her caravan and lay waste to her equipment, but at the time he assaulted her caravan, she had no such answers.

"What the hell was that?" Ember barked when the wave of energy struck her tour bus.

"I dunno, boss," her driver mumbled. He lazily fiddled with the ignition, but to no avail. "Some kinda power surge maybe, the bus is dead."

Moments later the ground behind them was engulfed in vicious explosions. "My gear!" Ember snarled to no one in particular as another blast threatened to flip the bus over.

Grabbing her guitar, Ember turned intangible and shot out of the tour bus. She scanned the area and quickly found her attacker, who was easy enough to spot hovering several meters above the destruction and peppering the remains with additional gunfire. The recognition sent a wave of emotions through her – she decided to fuel the angry ones.

"Skulker!" her roar immediately caught his attention. Ember noticed for the first time that his suit was different than the last time she had seen it; much larger and more imposing, especially superimposed against the background of carnage and flames behind him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I know all about the deal you've made, Ember," Skulker shouted in response. His amplified voice was easily heard over the sounds of chaos beneath them. "You will not harm those children, they are under my protection."

His protection? "Why do you care about that dopey Ghost Boy?" Her response came in the form of searing green fire belched from a forearm cannon attached to Skulker's suit. She maneuvered out of the way of the fire and slung her guitar over her shoulder. "One of them yours?"

She still received no verbal response. Skulker ceased his incendiary assault and revealed a minigun, which rotated down from within his opposite forearm. Ember dodged out of the sudden barrage of green energy bolts which sprayed through the air where she hovered only moments before. He followed her trail, tracing an intricate spiraling pattern through the sky, but missing every shot. Not like Skulker to miss-

Ember remembered too late that Skulker was more cunning than most. Her aerial acrobatics had allowed his more precise weapons to get a lock on her speed and maneuverability. Shoulder-mounted missile launchers rotated up and out of their housing and targeted her as she continued to dodge laser flak from the minigun – flak which she noticed was trailing her much more closely. She attempted to switch up her evasive flying, but the missiles fired and found their target before she could build up enough speed. A series of dull thuds accompanied an equal number of miniature green explosions as the missiles exploded against her body, sending Ember careening through the air and into the road. The green minigun bolts found her as well and pummeled her body further into the ground until Skulker ceased his barrage and eased himself onto the torn-up pavement. Green-gray smoke wafted up from her landing site.

It was rare that Ember experienced pain because she was smart enough to avoid most violent physical altercations. And while Skulker clearly overestimated the damage his toys had done to her form, he was not wrong in assuming they would hurt. Her otherwise flawless blue skin now sported blackened spots of ash, which themselves concealed darker blue and purple bruises. Her makeup artist was going to have his work cut out for him for the rest of the tour.

"I'm getting paid a lot to fool around with this Daniel you're so fond of, but I'm not going to hurt him, or his little dipstick friends." Ember slowly ambled out of the smoke, doing her best to conceal her slight limp. Whether or not she was successful, Skulker's robotic face contorted in a rare expression of surprise, to accompany the equally rare automatic backward steps. "But your master and the weirdo cloud guy didn't say anything about hurting you."

Ember unslung her guitar and lunged at Skulker too fast for his systems to react. She swung her guitar like an axe at his chest. The bladed edge sliced easily through his torso, spraying hydraulic fluid and sparks into the air. Skulker stumbled back and pulled his own sword out from his elbow – the folded blade having been cleverly sheathed in his upper arm. Ember's next blow was met with resistance, and her guitar bounced off Skulker's sword. She swung again, and again, and each time her strikes were deflected.

While Skulker's newest toy was enough to fend off her deadly blade, his was still only a sword. He was also slowing down, thanks to the damage to his complex hydraulics. Ember held her guitar in front of her and retrieved her pic from inside her glove. Skulker sheathed his sword and braced himself for the attack he knew was coming. Ember strummed the instrument forcefully and felt a wicked smile spread across her face as the sonic blast screamed forward and slammed into Skulker. The brief attack did not appear to do much damage to the robotic suit, but once it sunk to its knees, she knew her target had suffered the intended harm.

"Give up?" Ember called as she slung the guitar around behind her back and started over to the defeated robotic shell. "I think you should."

"If you kill me, there will be no one to p-p-p-p-protect youyouyouyou when your new friends turn on you." Skulker's vocalizer was malfunctioning, but was still able to communicate.

Ember scoffed. "I don't think you'd be much help in that situation anyway. But I don't want to kill you," she paused, running a hand over the open wound she had left in Skulker's armor. "I just need you out of my hair for a few days."

Ember wound up a fist to plunge into Skulker's power cell, but froze as she picked up faint movement in her peripheral vision. She turned just in time to see a white-clad boy careen out of the sky and aim himself at her like a human-shaped missile. Ember effortlessly sidestepped the attack. The boy sped past her, screamed an unintelligible curse, and slammed into the damaged remains of a jeep. The vehicle rocked over onto its side, leaving the boy stuck in the warped metal of the door.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," Ember remarked as the boy peeled himself from the remains of the vehicle. "I wasn't expecting to run into you so soon."

"D-D-D-Daniel, you must not enga-aaaaaaaaAAAAge Emb-" Skulker's warning was interrupted by a swift backhand, sending the robotic shell skidding several meters along the pavement and effectively disabling his vocalizer.

The Ghost Boy looked from Skulker's defeated form back to Ember as she advanced on him. "Ember, huh? You're that wannabe rock star, right?" he hoisted himself out of the jeep, keeping Ember in front of him and his fists raised as he circled her.

"Wannabe?" Ember chuckled as she and the Ghost Boy circled each other. "If you know who I am, you know I'm the real deal, kid."

"The real deal? Weird, since you're clearly not any rock artist from the 70s or 80s."

"I like your taste, dipstick." Ember readied her guitar. "So are we going to talk all day or are we gonna fight?"

"Thought you'd never ask!"

And, in what would go down as the quickest defeat of his career, the Ghost Boy lunged at Ember only to find his face on the receiving end of a swinging kick which planted his head firmly in the ground, breaking his nose and shattering his front teeth. Ember dug her knee into his spine with tremendous force, pulverizing several vertebrae. Her other foot kept his face firmly planted in the ground, allowing only muffled gurgling cries to escape the pavement; all in less than five seconds.

"I hope you last longer in other pursuits." Ember drew her fingers across the sapphire embedded in the body of her guitar and grinned as the instrument hummed with mystic energy.

"Chreepy," the Ghost Boy choked out from his partially-healed mouth. "I'm only shixteen."

"Well, in that case," Ember stood up off her victim's mangled body and delivered a swift kick to his side. Ribs splintered from the force of the impact and the boy was sent flying into another vehicle. "You'll have to settle for being my slave."

Even the Ghost Boy's impressive healing ability couldn't shield his mind from the mystical energy that surged at him from Ember's guitar. She watched his eyes fill with blue energy as her spell worked its magic; tearing down his natural mental barriers and preparing him for submission. Her hypnotic voice rang out, travelling along with the melodies of her instrument to implant her will in his mind:

"I love that you'd do
Anything for me
I know you're the one
To set me free
If you only knew
What it means to me
That you'd do anything for me"

No matter how many times she used her magic guitar to bring lesser beings under her control, the goofy smile that spread across the faces of her victims always put a grin on her own. The Ghost Boy floated up from where his body had lain in a crumpled heap and hovered over to Ember.

The moment between Ember and her new puppet was interrupted by the familiar sound of Skulker's engine firing up. She turned and watched his damaged robot shell blast off into the sky and disappear within the city.

"Do you want me to go after him?" Danny asked eagerly. His glowing green irises had been washed out by a vibrant shade of neon blue; the same shade of the sapphire in Ember's guitar.

"Not right now," Ember looked at her new slave and grinned again. "Let's make tracks before more people show up. The rest of you," she called out to the crowd that had gathered during the battle; her music had ensnared them as well. "Forget what you saw here today, and erase your evidence."

The masses of civilians, none of whom had been seriously injured thanks to Skulker's carefully calculated attack, watched the two ghosts vanish into the sky. Those who had recorded pictures and video on their cellular devices threw them to the ground and crushed them under heel. The crowd then promptly forgot what they had been doing.

---

The Ghost Sirens had shut down several minutes after starting up and the brief lockdown in Casper High was lifted with just enough time for students to resume their after-lunch period, much to the chagrin of Sam and Tucker.

"Now that we've finished deriving the meaning from this poem, or at least taking a stab at it, let's talk historical context. Why did Blake choose to rhyme 'eye' with 'symmetry'? Any thoughts on this one, Mr. Fenton?"

Sam looked from Mr. Lancer to the empty seat between her and Tucker. "He's not here," she volunteered, knowing this put her at risk for taking his place. "I think he went home sick, or something."

"Yes, or something," Lancer murmured. Sam saw him scribble something on his clipboard before turning his attention to another student, thankfully not Sam.

A short vibration on her outer thigh alerted her to a text from Tucker.

T: U think hes ok?

Keeping her eyes trained on Lancer, Sam's thumb glided over her phone and typed in a response.

S: Probs

T: Hope so

T: 1 of us shud chek it out

S: C u l8r

T: Cant skip out, alrdy in trbl w dad

T: U cud go

S: gr8 idea

S: o w8

S: no clu were he is

T: call sklkr

S: k

S: u hav his #?

Sam noticed an irritable glance from her friend and grinned. She was much snappier at texting, even though the brevity school required forced her to sacrifice grammatical correctness. Her musings were cut short by the intercom system buzzing into the classroom. The secretary requested her by name, and Lancer sent her out with a hall pass. The main office did not offer much in the way of privacy for students taking calls, which would have been nice considering the nature of Sam's caller.

"I hope I am not interrupting a crucial moment in your studies, Samantha."

"You have got to be kidding me," Sam whispered, her eyes widening in surprise. She immediately recognized Skulker's voice on the other end of the line. "Why are you calling me here, at school?"

"There is a situation, I require your assistance; Tucker's as well."

"Does this have something to do with Danny? Is he OK?"

"No, he is not. Listen to me very carefully. On Tucker's home computer, he will find research conducted by the Fentons and Professor Noreen Wakeman on sonic weaponry I uploaded to his hard drive. The Strategic Supernatural Defense Force never advanced any such weapons to testing, but the schematics are sound, in theory. The two of you must get into the Fenton's lab and create a working prototype by modifying one of the Fenton's pulse laser rifles they store in the armory."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, what is going on?" Sam paused to keep her voice hushed and level. "What happened to Danny?"

"You must do as I say; it may be our only chance to save Daniel."

"Wait, hold on, why can't you build the-" Sam glanced at the secretary, who was giving her a concerned look, "thing you need to build?"

"The ghost that now has Daniel under her control is the same ghost that severely damaged my systems in battle. I was fortunate to escape intact."

That explanation sent shivers up Sam's spine. "Ok, so the thing, what do we do with it once we're finished?"

"My systems are already undergoing extensive repairs. The damage was severe; it will be several hours before I am combat ready. I will meet you in the Fenton laboratory later tonight to retrieve the prototype, or assist in its completion. Tucker should be able to work with the schematics I have sent him."

"Uh, I'm not sure if you know this, but Tucker isn't an engineer, even if he is smart enough-"

"This is one of the only times during Daniel's assuredly long and painful ghost fighting career when I will have the exact answer to the problem he faces. You may not trust me, but you should believe me when I tell you I am trying to help. Tucker has studied the Fenton armory extensively; he has just enough expertise to complete the task per my instructions."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine. Guess we'll be hearing from you later."

"Indeed."

The line went dead, and Sam lazily set the phone into the receiver with a sigh. Whether she liked it or not, it looked more and more like Skulker was here to stay. After reassuring the secretary that everything was fine with a fib about Danny's uncle on the other line, Sam headed back to class. The walk gave her a little time to think.

One encounter with that massive robot with a penchant for long-winded exposition was not quite enough to pin down his personality, but Sam had noticed in earlier conversations that the mechanoid was always calm while speaking. This time, the deliberateness was gone from his voice, replaced by a sense of urgency. A ghost had Danny under its control, he had said, and Tucker needed to build a new type of anti-ghost weapon to save him; what were they dealing with now?

Could something actually scare Skulker?

Despite her Devil-may-care attitude, this new world of terrible and powerful monsters had worked up a considerable amount of anxiety in Sam. Her anxiety only intensified as more powerful ghosts kept crawling out of the woodwork. Danny was lucky to survive his last encounter, and now…

The three of them would need more than luck this time.

---

While Skulker's hulking robotic shell fit humanoid proportions – exaggerated for appearances – his true form sat safely housed deep inside his shell just below the neck. Barely a foot tall, the tiny green blob contained the memories and experience of over one thousand generations of hunters and warriors. For a great deal of time that cumulative wisdom was spent honing survival skills in the lawless and savage Void.

Skulker did not find the technology to protect himself against mindless beasts until the years before the Ghost Wars, when a godlike conqueror imposed his will over the habitable zones in the Void. And it was not until later still that Skulker outfitted his armor with weaponry, returning him to his rightful status as an alpha predator.

Despite his genius intellect and resilient technology, the Void was more than capable of producing creatures smarter and stronger than he. Ember was one such creature. The tiny green ghost watched glumly as his restoration chamber worked on repairing the grievous damage caused by Ember during their encounter on the highway. It was now five thirty in the evening, Samantha and Tucker were likely trying to figure out how to get into the Fenton's laboratory undetected, and Skulker's suit still had at least another hour before it would be fully functional again.

Fortunately, Skulker was just as resourceful without his armor as he was with it. The computer station along the wall of his new sewer lair winked on with a wave of his hand and awaited a command.

"Dial Fenton household, business landline," Skulker commanded. His voice was much higher in pitch and not nearly as intimidating as his audio synthesizer, but it carried the same air of confidence.

[Dialing…] appeared on the central monitor. Ancillary monitors winked on, displaying images of the exterior of the Fenton home from the viewpoints of several hidden cameras. The weeks following Aragon's attack had been very busy weeks for Skulker.

"Hello?"

Skulker kept his gaze on the smaller screens, but his attention was focused on the voice of Madeline Fenton, who had answered his call. "Is this Mrs. Madeline Fenton?" he asked, feigning a worried tone.

"Yes it is, may I ask who's calling?"

"My name is Butch Hartman. I own a comic book shop near the Historic District. I'm sorry to call you so close to dinner time; I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Not at all, Mr. Hartman. If you're calling about the sirens from earlier today, rest assured my husband and I are aware and we are working on it."

"Well, that is why I'm calling. I noticed some strange lights coming from some of the buildings down the street about an hour after the sirens went off. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but in light of the recent ghost activity in that area, well, I thought it might be related and that you should know about it."

Skulker noted a pause on the other line before Mrs. Fenton replied. "Thank you very much for the tip, Mr. Hartman, we'll check it out right away."

"Much appreciated, thank you. And do be careful, no telling what might be creeping about in those old buildings." Skulker waved his hand and the call ended, and he diverted his attention back to the monitors as they cycled through different feeds.

One of his cameras monitoring the back alley moved into the center screen, and showed Samantha and Tucker sneaking up the fire escape outside Danny's room. He grinned, appreciative that Sam had heeded his warning. The image of the two teenagers scaling the side of the Fenton residence cycled to a smaller monitor and a new feed took its place, showing the Fentons speeding away from their home in the notorious RV, likely carrying the fearsome exoskeleton with it.

Maybe this plan would work after all.

---

"Of course it's gonna work, dipstick. You don't get on my level by making shitty plans."

"I mean, yeah, obviously, duh, but I think you'd have a much bigger turnout if you waited until, I dunno, Friday to have the concert? Saturday? Let word spread a little, then you'd have, like, fifty times the turnout!"

Ember scowled at her new thrall. "You don't think I can get a packed house by tomorrow night?"

"I think you can do anything," the Ghost Boy answered, his voice dripping with adulation. "But I don't think you should take chances on this, what if it doesn't work?"

"Trust me, kid, this is going to be one of the best stunts I'll ever pull. If that doesn't blast ticket sales through the roof for the rest of the tour, I don't know what will."

Her thrall sighed in resignation. "Well, you know best."

"That's right. Now, go help those stooges of mine finish moving the new equipment. I'll let you rub my feet when you're done." Without another word, the Ghost Boy flew off with a goofy smile plastered on his face. "Idiot."

"It appears your mind control spell is working as you claimed," a nasally voice spoke up from Ember's hip.

A familiar green binary cloud billowed from the phone clipped to her belt and assumed its awkward humanoid shape. Two of Technus's strange eye lenses focused on her, the others darted around the open space of the amphitheater.

"You want to explain what the hell happened earlier on the road?" Ember snapped. "I thought Skulker was on your master's payroll." A hand gripped the shoulder strap of her guitar reflexively, ready to swing it into combat position in the blink of an eye.

"He is, for the moment. And he was given strict instructions not to interfere with this operation unless credible threats to the Ghost Boy's life manifested. This has not happened, and my master has no intention of cancelling this arrangement; evidenced by the speedy delivery of new equipment."

Ember's hand let go of the strap and followed it down to the opposite hip, where it planted firmly. "Yeah, well… I handled Skulker. You better make sure he doesn't interfere again, I'm playing with fire as it is right now; he could blow this entire gig if he shows up tomorrow night."

"I am, ah, unable to guarantee that at this time," Technus replied uneasily. "Skulker is currently evading my detection, and has cut off all communication with my master."

"So what am I supposed to do if he shows up?"

"I'm sure you can handle him again, especially now that the Ghost Child won't interfere."

Ember squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. "All of this to protect the little brats. I told him I wasn't going to hurt them, but either way, why does he care?"

"That is an… unexpected development."

"What, didn't know Skulker has a sentimental side?"

Technus did not respond, and Ember noticed his eyes were drifting aimlessly within his body, and portions of the flowing binary stopped and started erratically. His eyes then snapped back into focus, and his binary flowed normally again. "I have just updated my master with this information, and now we must ask a second task of you."

"These tasks are going to get very expensive for you very fast," Ember sneered. "Especially if Skulker crashes my performance tomorrow."

"In the likely event that he does, my master asks that you command the Ghost Boy to attack Skulker."

"What, not convinced? The twerp does anything I say, without hesitation."

"That remains to be seen."

"Hey, dipstick!" Ember shouted, keeping her eyes trained on Technus.

The Ghost Boy darted over to her side, wide eyed and eager to obey. "What do you need?"

"This is my friend, Terry Technology," Ember waved at Technus, who scoffed at the moniker. "He's never seen a human eyeball up close before, give him one of yours."

Without a word or gesture of hesitation, the Ghost Boy plucked out his eye with one swift motion, his face contorting briefly in pain as the optic nerve snapped. As he offered his eye to Technus, a new one began to grow back in his socket. Once the bright blue glow of Ember's spell overcame his new ethereal green iris, he blinked wiped away a tear with his free hand. Technus gingerly accepted the eye, looking from it to the child. Ember could not get a beat on Technus's emotions, but his ones and zeroes were moving slower.

"Thank you," Technus spoke finally. "You may return to your duties, Ghost Child."

Ember nodded and the boy flew back to the stage. "See?"

"Fascinating…" Technus continued to examine the eyeball in his hand. "That was a very reassuring demonstration."

"I thought you'd enjoy it. Tell your master that if Skulker shows up, I'll be happy to sick the dweeb on him, for all the good it will do. Kid can't fight worth a damn."

"It is more important that he obeys your commands. My master is interested in the extent to which this child's mind can be dominated."

"I get that he's unique, but why him? Surely there are other people more worth your master's attention than this kid."

"I do not question, I just make sure everything goes according to plan. We'll be in touch, Ms. McLain."

With that, Technus vanished back inside Ember's phone. The eyeball fell to the floor and rolled over to Ember's foot. She ground it under heel with a grimace; whatever was going on with Technus and his master, regardless of how well they paid, she would be glad to see them both gone once this gig was done.

---

Unlike his overshadowed form, Tucker was not possessed of any noteworthy grace or above-average reflexes. Sam observed this as Tucker tumbled in through Danny's jimmied-open window, across his bed, and onto the floor in a disappointing display of clumsiness.

"Wow, Tuck. That was something," Sam remarked monotonously as she carefully maneuvered in through the same window. "Why aren't you in the Olympics?"

"Funny," Tucker grumbled as he righted himself. "Let's go."

"What about the Fentons? With the alarms going off earlier, they're probably down in the lab right now, coming up with some new weapon or something." Sam's phone vibrated in her pocket as if to punctuate her sentence. She opened it to view a text message from an unknown number.

She read it aloud: "Fentons are following up on a false tip regarding today's events; you have at least 2 hours."

Tucker cocked an eyebrow. "How could you possibly…" his eyes moved to the phone. "Skulker?"

"If I was a betting girl, yeah. After you."

Tucker led the two of them down into the lab, finding the work space in a state of disarray. "Must have been busy after the sirens, huh?"

"Maybe," Sam murmured, noticing a framed picture of a younger Danny propped up amid the clutter. It looked out of place for some reason…

"Here's the weapon locker. How are we supposed to get one of those laser rifles out?" Tucker jiggled the thumbprint-sealed lock.

Sam frowned at the lock and turned to face the rest of the laboratory. Against the far wall hummed the Ghost Portal. The safety doors were sealed, and no trace of the ethereal green ectoplasm could be seen. The wall across from the lockers and storage was devoted to research and experimentation. A computer console with several monitors took up one corner, but most of the rest of the desk space was cluttered with papers. Danny's photo caught her eye again, and Sam moved towards it.

"Does this picture look weird to you? Like, it being here?"

"Picture? C'mon, we're looking for – Sam!"

"What?"

Tucker hurried past her and delicately held up the picture by the top edge of the frame. "You're a genius!"

"Yeah, duh… why is that, exactly?"

"Thumbprints! Danny's parents don't wear those jumpsuits all the time, only in the lab or out on official business. Wanna bet that at least one of their prints are on this thing?"

Sam's eyes lit up. "Especially if they brought it from upstairs."

Tucker took the picture over to the locker. He held it at different angles, trying to present the scanner with a readable print. "Maybe I jumped the gun. I don't think this scanner works without the actual-" he was interrupted by the indicator light winking green with a friendly beep. The door unlocked and opened slightly. "Never mind then," he whispered. "That's, like, a pretty massive security breach. Maybe I should leave them a note or-"

"Come on, we're burning daylight, Tucker."

With the picture returned to its exact location on the desk, Tucker removed a pulse laser rifle and set about dismantling it on the floor of the lab. Sam removed the printout of the schematics Skulker had sent to Tucker and began gathering the equipment he required.

"You sure this is gonna work? I mean, I guess nobody is, it's a theoretical weapon, but are you sure you can follow the specs?"

"Have a little faith, Sam."

She rolled her eyes. "I have faith in you being a huge nerd, but like I told Skulker, you're not an engineer or mechanic or anything like that. Don't you need, I don't know, experience or training with this kind of stuff before you can go cracking into dangerous sci-fi energy weapons?"

"That's why I removed the power cell first," Tucker said cheekily, holding up the silver and green canister. A hair tie was flung at his face as a response. "Look, I don't know if I can do this either, but Skulker is out for the moment and trusts me to at least get the ball rolling."

"Do you trust him?"

The screwdriver in Tucker's hand stopped turning for a moment. "I don't know. He's helped us a lot already. He saved my life, too. But all this stuff about him working for someone who's watching Danny… it's complicated." Tucker gave a screw on the casing of the rifle a few more turns as Sam gathered more gear. "Maybe I don't trust him," he continued, "not completely anyway, but in the face of all the crazy being thrown at us, he's the only ghost trying to help. And I believe he wants to help."

With a sigh of resignation, Sam took a seat next across from Tucker, the pile of parts on either side of the weapon between them. "I guess that makes sense," she admitted.

"What do you think about Skulker?" Tucker asked, keeping his focus on the task at hand.

"Let's focus on this weapon, I can tell you what I wrote in my diary later."

It was a long and arduous process, but Tucker was a quick study on Skulker's schematics and on the basic workings of the laser weapon. Halfway through the second hour, all of the component parts had been affixed to the body of the weapon, but there was no chance that the casing would fit back on with the attachments. Fortunately for the two children, the casing on the weapon would not be their problem to solve.

"Excellent work," a booming voice said from the stairwell.

Sam's head snapped to the source of the sound so quickly it hurt her neck. Tucker had almost fallen over from his sitting position.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked cautiously as she stood up. "I thought you said that ghost from earlier had messed you up pretty bad."

"My repairs are complete," Skulker touched a hand to his chest; a gesture Sam assumed meant the area was damaged earlier. "I came to offer my assistance, but it appears Tucker has completed the work, or at least nearly so."

Tucker rose to his feet, holding the weapon close. "Yeah, the, uh, the casing doesn't fit anymore because of the attachments, but everything else should be fine. Had to rewire and reattach some stuff along the way, but I think this baby is good to go."

As Skulker closed the gap between him and the children, they took several nervous steps backwards. "Do you still fear me?"

"No." Tucker answered before Sam could reply. "Just not used to seeing a giant robot striding towards us. It's menacing, no matter how friendly you are."

"Make no mistake," Skulker reached out and accepted the weapon from Tucker. "I am not friendly."

"That's reassuring," Sam muttered.

Cold green optics focused on her face, and silence gripped the stale, sterile air of the laboratory for several uncomfortable seconds. "You, Samantha… you do fear me. Why?"

"It's not… I don't… You're weird, Skulker."

It was clear from both his and Tucker's expression that was not the response either of them expected. "Weird?" Skulker probed.

"Yes, weird. This whole situation is weird. This whole entire planet is weird." Sam's bottled up anxiety and fears needed to be vent, she could push them down no longer. "Twenty years ago the world was wondering if the human race was going to go extinct. Extinct! Then we built laser weapons to fight monsters from another dimension, I mean, does anyone think about that and say 'why yes, that was a completely normal response to a completely normal situation'? Who could think that?"

"Nobody is say-"

"It wasn't bad enough all that shit happened," Sam continued, cutting Tucker off. "The monsters were stronger than us; they can take over our bodies and shoot energy beams from their hands. It was weird, and we threw geniuses and AI robot things and superheroes and lasers at them and won! Hooray!" Sam's voice was wavering, and tears were building up in her eyes. "But now the monsters are back. They can do all the same things they could do last time, but now they're smarter than us. And who's defending us from them? Not the military, not the Guys in White, not even the Fentons; no, this time it's Danny Fenton. C student and clueless idiot Danny Fenton. My best goddamn friend, Danny fucking Fenton. And we're right on the front lines of a new Ghost War with him! So don't tell me not to be afraid of you, or of any of this, because it is terrifying." Tears were now streaming freely down her face, and Sam couldn't choke out any more words between quiet sobs.

"Tucker," Skulker said softly, "please take the weapon upstairs, we will be along shortly."

The boy looked at Sam, who nodded uneasily. "I'll just, yeah… I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Tucker silently made his way upstairs, casting a timid look over his shoulder as he went.

"You have been bottling that up for some time," he stated.

"That obvious, huh?" Sam asked with a sniffle.

"You are right to be afraid of the new threats, and you have assessed them correctly. These are smarter and stronger foes, the likes of which have never been encountered on Earth in centuries. But do not take that to mean you face impossible odds. Daniel has gone up against two adversaries of immense power and emerged victorious."

"That's not the point! We're just kids, Skulker! Why is this our responsibility? Why are our lives on the line against these monsters? Why do I have to go to sleep at night wondering if it's the last night I'll ever have?"

Even after taking a knee, Skulker had to hunch to bring himself to eye level with Sam. "You seek answers where there are none, but you must not despair. The three of you are not alone in this fight, and you will triumph. Of that, I have no doubt."

"Oh, yeah? Are you going to fight our battles for us? You won't always be there. Something will happen, like whatever happened to you today. And why do you even care? What is your stake in all of this?"

Skulker reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a worn and weathered photograph. "The most recent life I have lived was that of a soldier, drafted into service of the United States Army during the Korean War. I died in battle, and my echo in the Void was assimilated by Skulker. My consciousness assumed dominance over Skulker's other voices, and I was able to hold onto my memories."

Sam wiped some remaining tears away. "Why are you telling me this?"

"My name… my human name was Kevin. My late brother's name was Ishmael, although he preferred to go by 'Izzy'. Years after my death, he invented a rather ingenious device, which-"

"Wraps cellophane around deli toothpicks?" Sam finished, eyes wide and knees weak.

A large metal hand offered Sam the picture. She looked down at the image and covered her mouth. Staring back at her, clear as day, was Sam's grandfather, Izzy Manson. He stood smiling next to a tall, handsome man with rugged features, dressed in Army fatigues. "I learned of this after our last encounter," he said quietly.

All Sam could do was look back into Skulker's unwavering optics. She had no words to express the maelstrom of confusion that raged in the depths of her soul.

"Your situation may seem hopeless, but know this: I will stand by your side against all challengers, in this world and all others. We are family, Saman-" he did not finish her name. Sam's spindly arms flung themselves around Skulker's broad neck and her face buried into his massive chest. He felt her petite form shuddering from the renewed sobs, and embraced his niece.

They remained that way for several minutes, until Sam had worked herself down. She took a step back and tried drying her face. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice steadier than earlier.

"Now, we bring Daniel back."

"Good." Sam's mind was still racing, but her renewed confidence was overpowering her anxiety. And Danny wasn't going to save himself. "Let's get to work."

---

"This is clearly the Commencement we foresaw. The child's mind teeters on the brink of collapse. You must intervene now."

Two red eyes narrowed in contempt. "This is clearly but one of the trials the boy will face; I assure you it will not be his last. These trials are the soil from which he will grow in mind and body and spirit."

"We should have anticipated this," a third, more accusatory voice spoke. "You have reneged on your responsibilities, Scribe. You promised us a solution to the Cataclysm, yet you never had any intention of eliminating the child, did you?"

Calling him Scribe was meant as an insult, a reference to days long past when he served as Scribe for a cruel and brutal tyrant. Clockwork felt no shame or discomfort at the use of the title. It was, after all, historically accurate. He did, however, feel agitation at these single minded cyclopses.

"You remember the past as vaguely and inaccurately as you foresee the future. I promised nothing to you who observe fragments of time and rush to act without context. The Cataclysm will resolve itself, this I said to you."

"And yet you are not diametrically opposed to direct intervention, as we witnessed when you entered the mind of the child to save his life. To any Observant, it appears you have ignited the fire foreseen to burn us all to ash. What say you?"

"Behold!" Clockwork made no physical gesture, but behind him the space in the Void shimmered and expanded, forming a window through time. "What I display before you is a war which was hidden from our gaze before it began." His audience looked through the window to watch as humans in Kyoto, Japan engaged swarms of ectosapiens; one of the last battles of the human-dubbed Ghost Wars. "These are most dangerous times, when the flow of time is obfuscated to the few who can look upon its majesty and comprehend its patterns and its idiosyncrasies."

"Then what authority do you have to stay our blade, if your vision is as fragmented as you claim ours to be?"

"I stay your blade, for you would slit the throat of creation itself were it to your satisfaction! No, you will never move against that child, or any human. You fear a Cataclysm about which you know nothing. But I have seen the true and terrible visage of Cataclysm through the very eyes of this child you wish to destroy."

The time window behind Clockwork distorted and morphed into a still image of a frightening figure; a hairless, pale and gaunt face with skeletal features and dead, solid black eyes.

"Who do we look upon through this window, Clockwork?"

"I know not his name or origin, but I know that he does not belong in this time." Clockwork remained silent for a moment to reflect on the idea of an entity which could evade his omniscience. It was an… uncomfortable line of thought. "In recent times we have all felt in our higher senses a great disturbance. This was no mere ripple; some great force tore its way here, and has sent mighty waves of disruption crashing through time. It has affected my ability to see clearly through time, but let those who would question my resolve and wisdom, beware! For while the future you Observants fear so terribly is largely obscured to my vision, I know that the child – the very child you would put to the blade to assuage your own childish fears – is the only hope we have to turn the tide of the real threat which menaces us from the shadows."

Silence gripped his audience of Observants, many of whom had their eye trained on the image of the unknown being behind the Master of Time.

"What, then, do we do?" One spoke finally. "What can we do?"

"We will watch. And none among you are to move against the child. He is instrumental to our salvation."

"To make it so, the boy must live?"

"The boy must live…" Clockwork turned from his audience to the still image of the black-eyed entity. "For now."

---

Something the Fenton parents had become accustomed to seeing was a living room occupied by Danny and his two best friends watching television, playing video games, or hurriedly working at the last minute on a project due the next day for some class. Danny had stopped doing homework in the living space quite some time ago.

Therefore it was surprising to Jack and Maddie, returned from a dead end investigation, to find their son with his text books out, working on assignments for class. "Oh, hey guys," he said nonchalantly as they entered the foyer.

"Hey there kiddo," Jack said. "When did you get home?"

"Oh, like, twenty minutes ago maybe. Went to Sam's place after school with Tucker to work on our book reports, thought I'd knock out the rest of my homework before turning in for the night."

"That's a welcome change," Maddie remarked with a smile. "We haven't seen you do homework at home in ages!"

"Yeah, well, I guess I have been slacking a bit. I'm a little behind on some assignments, figured there's no time like now to catch up, right?"

"I think that attitude calls for some pizza!" Jack suggested excitedly.

"Yeah, I… actually, I'm not super hungry," Danny said. Jack noticed he sounded concerned.

"Something up?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm fine. I feel great, actually. Lots of energy, or whatever, I dunno. I just haven't been hungry lately, or thirsty. Feel totally fine, though."

"Tell you what, I'll save you a slice in case you change your mind, how's that sound?"

"Just a slice?" Maddie called from the kitchen.

An hour later, after the pizza had arrived and been mostly eaten by Jack, the paunchy patriarch took a seat next to his son on the couch and flipped on the television. "Don't mind if I check the news, do ya?"

"Nope, go ahead, almost done anyway."

The news was not on yet, and Jack disinterestedly flipped through the channels as Danny finished his homework. "So, what'cha learn at school today?"

"Oh, we were supposed – ah – went over something about poems by William Shakespeare. Or Blake? I don't really know, poetry is dumb."

"Well, maybe," Jack had to struggle not to agree with his son, being a man of science and with no interest in prose or poetry to speak of. "But that goes hand in hand with history, and that's your favorite subject, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and I guess. Everyone is always saying women love poetry, but I don't think that's true."

"It's not; not for everyone. Take your mother, for example. If I studied up on some poems back in the day and tried to win her heart with it, it probably wouldn't have worked - that's not her thing. Some people say 'it's the thought that counts', but if you're just following a trend you watch or read about, where's the thought?"

"…I like that answer."

"So who's the lucky lady?"

Jack noticed his son hesitated before replying. "It's, uh… it's Sam."

"Ha! What a surprise!" Jack exclaimed, making no effort to hide his sarcasm.

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone with two eyes and a brain can see that you two are going to end up together at some point."

"Well that's, uh, news to me…" Danny mumbled.

"Sam's a strange bird, kiddo. Not in a bad way, strange in its best… she's unique, kiddo. Roses and poetry might have gotten their parents together, but Sam strikes me as the type to light those on fire."

"Yeah, and she probably wouldn't like the roses and poetry much either," Danny quipped back.

Jack laughed heartily at the joke. "Do not repeat that to your mother," he said, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

"Well that's a lot to think about. I'll sleep on it, thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, son." Jack pulled Danny into a quick hug before Danny hurried up the stairs into his bedroom. The conversation had provided a brief distraction from the lingering worry Jack felt for his boy.

The reprieve would not last long.

---

Danny stumbled into his room, eyes blazing with the vibrant blue energy of Ember's love spell. He barely made it to his window before he vomited up the slice of pizza he ate earlier.

Me and Sam together? Bad enough I had to say it, but it's a thing? People think of us like that? That's… That's…

His train of thought was interrupted as his gag reflex forced him to dry heave – his stomach was completely empty.

Ok, get it together, Fenton. You did good. Did well? Whatever. Ember said 'go home and be a good boy, go to school tomorrow, then come back to the amphitheater afterwards.' It's just to keep up appearances; none of this sneaking around bullshit after tomorrow night. Things will be different then.

In his time spent with Ember helping her prepare for her concert – news of which was spreading across the Internet like wildfire – Ember had revealed her plans and her secrets to him. Like many ghosts of her strength, Ember had a unique power beyond the standard array of ghost abilities. Her power was to hypnotically control humans and weaker ghosts with her voice. The effect was only temporary, to the point where subjects would break free within minutes without her constant singing.

Then Ember found the sapphire. During the chaotic years in the Void leading up to the Ghost Wars, Ember had stumbled upon the gem on one of the many floating islands in the habitable zones. She kept it hidden, safe from those who would steal it, until she escaped to Earth during the Ghost Wars. The gem was housed in the body of Ember's guitar and its strange energy had an unexpected yet welcome effect; her hypnotic spells were made permanent.

After a series of tests drawn out over the next two decades, Ember determined that her guitar was ready to be played in front of a… larger audience. Her first concert in Boston had been very successful. With the gem in her control, Ember's wildest fantasies were about to come true.

Despite his joy at the imminence of his new master's victory, a tiny voice whispered in the back of Danny's mind; a grating voice which scratched against his skull and refused to be silent. This isn't right, it whispered. This isn't me.

---

"Danny?!"

A puzzled look on Danny's face greeted Sam and Tucker outside Casper High the next day. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?"

"What's up?" Sam repeated as she and Tucker caught up with their friend. "What happened to you yesterday?"

"Yesterday? Oh, you mean after I went to check out the Ghost Sirens." Your little friends know your secret, Ember's commands echoed in his thoughts. They'll know something happened to you, and Skulker might be helping them. Do not tell them my plans. "There was a ghost tearing up the highway. Skulker was messed up, but we, uh, drove it off."

"Really?" Sam asked accusingly. "That's not what Skulker told us."

"What do you mean?" Danny furrowed his brow.

"Skulker told us you were hypnotized by Ember, that new pop singer who also happens to be the biggest, baddest ghost the Earth has ever seen," Tucker chimed in. "Go figure."

"Baddest isn't a word, Tuck," Danny snapped. "And what, suddenly Skulker's your pal? Since when did we start believing everything he says?"

"Gee, I dunno, I think he earned some credibility when he, uh, saved Tucker's life," Sam hissed. "Probably yours, too."

"And I guess that makes him totally a good guy now, above questioning, and five hundred percent on our side, good to know!" Danny laughed haughtily and rolled his eyes. "Grow up, guys."

Sam's upper lip began to quiver in anger. "So keeping you and Tucker alive means nothing to you now, is that it?"

"Why would it?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sam shouted, causing both her friends to startle. "And why doesn't it change anything, because Ember told you to think that?"

In a startling display of power bleeding, Danny's human eyes quickly flashed, not neon blue or green or red, but pure, empty black. Sam and Tucker took an involuntary step back. "Don't you dare talk about her like that," Danny choked out through clenched teeth.

"Well, thanks for proving us right," Sam's voice had lost some of its confidence from earlier. "I didn't think it was so… what's the word-"

"Pervasive?"

"Thanks Tuck. Danny, we only want to help you-"

"So you figured all this out, hooray, you guys are so smart. Said nobody, ever. And what is it you want to help me with? Returning to my boring life with you two? With my workaholic, absentee parents and sister? With school bullies and extra-dimensional monsters who want my head for a million nonsense reasons? No thanks."

Sam and Tucker exchanged concerned looks. "What do you mean return?" Tucker asked.

Do not tell them my plans. "You'll figure it out." Danny abruptly turned and marched off.

"Skulker said this is probably what he'd be like," Tucker said softly, watching his friend storm away, "but I never would have thought Danny could turn into-"

"That's not Danny. Not while he's under Ember's control."

Tucker sighed. "No way I'm getting anything done in school today."

"Thinking of skipping with me? Won't that set your Dad off even more?"

"This is a little more important. If we're going to take Ember down, we need a plan; a good one. And from the sound of things, we need one by tonight."

Sam turned and started walking away from the school, and Tucker fell into step beside her. "We're going to break that bitch's hold over him, Tuck. Whatever it takes."

They continued at a hurried pace towards Tucker's house – the meeting place they had agreed on the night before. "Sam, back when I was overshadowed… right at the beginning, after I, uh, you know-"

"After Aragon used your body to cut off Danny's head? I remember. I don't want to, but I do."

"You looked me – uh, him – in the eyes and said you'd do whatever it takes to save me… what did you mean by that?"

Alone on a sidewalk, barely a block and a half away from the school, Sam turned a steely gaze on Tucker. "I would have killed you before I let him do it. We've all heard about what it does to people, being under a ghost's control. It's no way to go." Her eyes fell to the sidewalk. "If I had to fight Aragon alone… that's what I would've done."

"Good." Sam's eyes rose to meet Tucker's. "Whatever spell Danny is under, it's bringing something up we haven't seen before. Maybe it was buried deep inside him at the start of all this, or maybe it's been planted by Ember's spell. Whatever it is, it's evil. We can't let Danny turn into that. Ever."

"What are you saying?"

"We need to be ready should the worst happen. Do you think you could pull the trigger if it was Danny instead of me? And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Sam started to object, but stopped herself, knowing it was a futile gesture. "I don't know," she admitted. Sam's feelings for Danny were not something Tucker brought up often, especially since the accident which gave him ghost powers.

The two kept walking in silence. Tucker had no desire to kill anyone, but Sam was right. Death at the hands of a ghost was a horrible way to die. For Danny, forced into slavery by a ghost and warped into something evil was maybe even worse, especially if the real Danny was conscious inside, helpless to stop his own body from wreaking doom and destruction upon the world. If Sam couldn't bring herself to save Danny in that way, Tucker resolved that he would have to step up if the situation spiraled out of control. Whatever it takes… to never see those black eyes ever again.

---

There was a time when the Fentons strategized a counter-offensive against an endless wave of other worldly beings from their shielded Operations Center mounted on top of their current home. It was a dark and frightening time because humanity had started believing that it would lose the Ghost Wars. Before the dust settled, before mankind seized its victory from the cold dead hands of its enemy, the Fentons and their unusual arrangement of allies were the only line of defense for the human race. To keep the world's leaders informed on matters of war, a direct line had been established between the Fenton home and the White House. It had not been used in some years, so Maddie was justifiably surprised when the dusty old rotary phone began to ring on the wall of the laboratory.

Easing the receiver off the hook, Maddie slowly brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Fenton?" The voice on the other line was certainly not the Commander in Chief. It was, however, familiar.

"Governor Wahlberg," some tension worked its way out of Maddie's voice. The State government also had access to this exclusive landline. "It's nice to hear from you again."

"Always a pleasure, Mrs. Fenton. Is your husband around? I have something to discuss which concerns the both of you."

"I'm afraid he's preparing our equipment for another patrol. I'm guessing you heard of our recent incident?"

Muffled sounds of turning pages could be heard from the other line. "Several totaled vehicles including two semis and their cargo, belonging to one Ember McLain. A whole mess of people who were present at the scene of what you describe in your report was pretty clearly a battle, but nobody can remember any details. Ms. McLain apparently cannot be reached for a comment, and is supposed to be on the other side of the country right now. Your report worries me, Mrs. Fenton."

"It worries us as well, Governor."

"Level with me, Madeline. Is this as bad as it sounds?"

"At the moment, we don't know. Jack and I fully expected to arrive on the scene to find a ghost present, like the last incident. This time there was nothing."

"Any thoughts?"

"No. Not until we have more information."

"Fair enough. And speaking of the last incident, have you encountered any problems with your local government trying to tie your hands?"

"If you're referring to Mayor Foley, then no. He's been cooperative with our investigations since you overrode his authority, if not especially happy about it."

"I don't want to neuter the guy, but ghost attacks on U.S. soil are matters of national security. He's lucky he wasn't asked to step down. No telling what kinds of problems he could've caused if there were other operatives on the ground at the time."

Maddie hesitated. "Other operatives? I thought we had full autonomy to act on ghost related matters at our discretion."

"The President isn't convinced that the previous administration took the right approach to the SSDF at the end of the Ghost Wars, especially not in light of recent events."

"What are you saying?"

"I'll give it to you straight, Mrs. Fenton. Your most recent reports, along with eye witness accounts and video recordings of the last two incidents don't paint a pretty picture. You and your husband are winning these fights by the skin of your teeth, and it sounds like other ghosts are doing a lot of the heavy lifting for you. Now don't get me wrong, you and Jack are war heroes, I have nothing but respect for you… but we can't let you continue to operate independently if this is how these battles are playing out."

"If you're saying what I think you're saying… Governor Wahlberg, Mark, I know things look bad right now, but what you're suggesting – we haven't hit that point, not yet!"

"We passed that point when you and your husband were almost killed by two different ghosts on the same day last year. The ghosts crawling out of the woodwork keep getting stronger; we can't just leave it in your hands anymore. The President has issued an executive order fully reactivating the Strategic Supernatural Defense Force."

"Governor, if you've read up on the war, if you've truly done your homework, you know what almost every expert in the field believes; that the ghosts at the end of the war, and possibly for the entire duration, were being directed behind the scenes by some kind of leadership. When we won, we never pursued them. We left them alone. If that leadership still exists, it may perceive rearmament as an act of aggression, and… did you say fully reactivate? I thought the SSDF was shut down completely at the end of the war?"

"Not completely. They've been busy in the last few years. You and Jack need to come out to Sacramento so I can bring you up to speed once you've finished with this new Level Three."

So that was that. Maddie knew better than to keep arguing this point with the Governor; he couldn't ignore an Executive Order any more than the Fentons. "I… I'll let Jack know. Thank you for keeping us in the loop, Governor."

"Anytime, Mrs. Fenton. I look forward to reading your report. And please, be careful out there."

With a click, Governor Wahlberg's line went dead. Maddie set the receiver back on the hook and flopped down into her chair. Had it really gotten that bad? Neither Maddie nor Jack were actually opposed to the reactivation of the Strategic Supernatural Defense Force, considering they were two of its founding members, but they did fear the implications. Opening the Earth back up to extra-dimensional aggression was something they strived not to do in the years following the Ghost Wars.

Now, only time would tell if the cold and calculating alien minds hiding deep in the Ghost Zone would take notice that the Guys in White were back.

---

If someone had told me six months ago that I would be doing this, I would have laughed. Or cried. Tucker checked his surroundings to make sure the coast was clear before waving Sam forward. Hell, I came up with this part of the plan and I still can't believe it.

Darting forward out of the shadows, dressed in all black, Sam took point and hurried through an open room with dozens of different costumes hanging from clothing racks. They provided decent enough cover as the two teenagers snuck through the backstage part of the amphitheater, searching for Ember's dressing room.

You will need a clear shot at Ember's guitar, Skulker's words replayed in Tucker's mind from earlier that day. With any luck, the disruption should free Daniel from her spell. I can buy all three of you enough time to escape.

Reaching around behind his back, Tucker sighed in relief as his fingers touched the cool plastic casing of the sonic weapon he had worked on the night before. The whole mission rested on this weapon and Tucker's paranoia forced him to make sure it was still there every few minutes, even though he could feel its weight hanging from his shoulder.

Not that we don't want to save Danny ourselves, Sam had asked, but why aren't you the one blasting into her dressing room and using the sonic gun on her guitar?

Skulker's answer had been unsettling, to say the least. Ember will attack me on sight, and will probably force Daniel to fight me as well. There is a much higher probability of the weapon being destroyed while in my possession. The two of you have a greater chance of actually using it, and a lower chance of being killed in the process.

Having cleared the wardrobe, Sam and Tucker had the difficult task of gaining access to the security room. Finding the office would be easy enough, but the concert was minutes away and the honeycombing hallways behind the stage were crawling with staff. Fortunately, Tucker had planned for this. Beneath their black "ninja gear" as Sam had called it, the two wore stagehand T-shirts, emblazoned on the front was a white lowercase "e" surrounded by a neon pink and blue flame. They each wore a lanyard with the same pattern around their necks, obtained by Skulker, with official access passes attached. Sam grabbed a clipboard from a table nearby and the two walked at a brisk pace through the halls, weaving in and out of the bustling tech crews and other personnel.

"Hey, kid," a security officer shouted at Tucker. "What's that thing on your back?"

"Acoustimeter, I'm with the sound crew."

"Acou-what?" She held a finger up to her ear, listening to someone over her radio. "Go ahead, they're waiting for you."

Tucker nodded and continued on his way with Sam. Thank you, Skulker.

"Is that what were calling that thing?" Sam called back over her shoulder.

"An acoustimeter is a real thing, Sam. We can call it the Foley Noise Cannon if that makes you feel better."

A few more twists and turns and the two found themselves outside the security room. A single guard was posted at the door and two more were manning the consoles inside, keeping the lines of communication open between the officers stationed around the theater.

"Is it just me, or does it look kinda… I dunno, understaffed?" Sam asked, pretending to look at her clipboard.

"Private security for these kinds of gigs usually deal with really aggressive hecklers and audience stuff, I really doubt they expect two teenagers to do what we're about to do. You have those things Skulker gave us?"

Sam patted the utility belt Skulker had fashioned for her. "Set to go. Take my clipboard, act natural, and be ready to grab the guy at the door."

The two turned down the hall and walked at a brisk pace for the door. Sam slid a small silver sphere from one of the pouches on her belt and nonchalantly tossed it up in the air several times.

"Can I help youse kids?" The guard at the door eyed Sam and Tucker suspiciously as they headed for him.

Sam thumbed the activation button on the sphere. "Yeah, catch." She tossed the orb at the guard. His hand shot up to catch it, and in moments he was twitching quietly and drooling on the floor. After he and Sam donned their ski masks, Tucker dropped the clipboard and grabbed the limp body under the arms. As he dragged the guard into the security office, Sam kicked the door shut and pulled a small toy pistol from the larger front pouch and pointed it at the other two guards. Painted black and without the orange safety cap, the guards were none the wiser. "You two, up against the wall with your pal. Move!"

The two conscious guards cursed and jumped out of their seats, hurrying to comply with the petite, armed teenager.

"It's scary, Bonnie. You are really good at this." Tucker took a seat and began pouring over the different security feeds.

"Much appreciated, Clyde." Sam kept the gun aimed in the guards' general direction. "You find her yet?"

"Nah, and she isn't in her dressing room. I hope she's not on stage already, that would make things difficult."

"What about the, uh, other one?"

"Nowhere in sight. Oh, there's Ember, looks like she's headed to makeup. But where's the guitar?"

"Y-you kids are here to steal Ember's guitar?!" One of the guards choked out. He didn't look much older than Sam and Tucker. "All of this for a fucking X-Plorer? I'll buy you one if you just go away!"

"On your salary? Bullshit." Sam kept the gun trained on them. "Now keep that pretty mouth shut, unless you want me to paint the wall with your brains."

"Good Lord, Bonnie," Tucker muttered. "Can we do one job where you don't shoot someone in the face?"

"We can try-"

"Oh shit, GET DOWN!"

Tucker's warning came too late. He only had seconds to react to one of the camera feeds, showing Danny in ghost form flying fast down the hallway at the security door. Tucker was able to brace himself in time, but Sam and the two guards went flying against the array of monitors as Danny's energy-charged form blasted through the door, sending a concussive shockwave around the room.

"I knew putting a camera in here was a good idea," Danny remarked, pointing at a small camera mounted above the security monitors. "I'll level with you," he paused to brush some debris off his shoulder. "Even though you are both really pissing me off right now, I asked Ember not to make me kill you. If you come quietly, I'll walk you both out of here before the show starts and you can go home. No backstabbing, no tricks. Promise."

Tucker looked from his friend over to Sam, who was slowly picking herself up off the ground. The bodies of the two guards had cushioned her impact, and they had taken the brunt of the damage.

"Danny, you have to try to fight this thing," Tucker pleaded as he removed his mask, trying to find some trace of his best friend in the neon blue irises of the being standing before him.

"Because that worked so well for you, right?" Danny scoffed.

Tucker flinched. "When I told you, and the cops, and everyone else that I don't remember what happened; that was a lie. I was awake the whole time. I saw everything, felt everything. I remember all of it." His voice was trembling. "When Aragon decapitated you, I lost any hope of being rescued. Do you know what it's like, to lose hope? To truly believe you are going to die?"

Something seemed to stir in Danny's demeanor. "Tuck, I had no idea-"

"I can work through the guilt over what Aragon used my body to do to all those people. I can work through the memories of pain; it's all terrible, but manageable. But what I felt when I thought you died was beyond all of that. I gave up; I stopped trying to save myself... until you came back. I know you're in there, somewhere buried beneath the spell. You can't give up. You have to fight her!"

The mention of Ember snapped Danny back into the flow of his hypnosis. "What makes you think I want to fight this? Obedience to Ember is liberating! I don't have to protect this stupid town, or worry about its stupid people anymore. I do what Ember says, and help make her fantasies into reality. She's changing the world, Tucker! Why are you trying to stop us?"

"Do you realize how batshit crazy and idiotic you sound?" Sam spat, regaining her composure and yanking off her mask. "And you know what? For all your cockiness and arrogance, for all your super powers, you're just a weak willed little bitch. Tucker had to have a ghost tear its way into his head to take over him, and Ember does what? Plays a shitty cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart and makes you a slave?"

Danny darted forward and grabbed Sam by the neck, lifting her off the ground with no visible strain. Tucker noticed how gaunt his friend now looked. "I already told you not to insult her," Danny hissed, "but you love pushing my buttons, don't you?"

Time seemed to slow down as Danny stared into Sam's eyes, his own burning with blue energy. What do we do if we can't get to Ember? Tucker had asked Skulker earlier that day. What if Danny finds us before we can find her and use the weapon on her guitar? His hand reached up to the opposite shoulder and grabbed the strap keeping the Acoustimeter attached to his back.

You will have to improvise, Skulker had said. Plan B.

The Acoustimeter now sat in Tucker's arms, and he took aim at Danny. I guess my real question is, what do you think will happen if we use it on Danny? Will it break the spell?

I do not know what effect this weapon will have, on either the guitar or Daniel. It is the only working theory we have at the moment, that sonic interference will disrupt the spell, since destroying the instrument is almost certainly beyond our capabilities.

The weapon's energy cell charged up, and a green indicator light winked on letting him know it was ready, and Tucker's finger began to pull the trigger. So I'll have to make the call. What if it isn't the right one? What if I screw up?

Sonic waves are invisible, but they are most certainly not imperceptible. Tucker flinched as the bombardment of sound tore across the room and slammed into Danny. Sam fell from his grip as the Ghost Boy was flung into the far wall. Tucker squeezed the trigger several more times, bombarding Danny with wave after wave of sonic disruption. Danny collapsed to the floor, howling and sobbing in agony as sonic waves tore into his body.

We must all make difficult decisions, especially in times of war. In the heat of the moment, there is no time to second guess yourself. You must act… and be prepared to deal with the consequences.

Tucker lowered the weapon when Danny stood up. Something looked off about his friend, and Tucker's throat tightened. Oh, no, he thought. Please, God, no.

Danny's body rippled and bulged as if the sonic waves were trapped inside his body, trying to escape. He staggered around the room, wheezing through clenched teeth and gripping his head tightly.

Neither of Danny's friends knew what was happening inside of Danny's body. To Skulker's credit, his theory was correct. The sonic distortion was sufficient to break Ember's hold over Danny's mind and worked as well on Danny as it would have on the guitar. What Skulker did not – could not – account for was the mystical nature of the gem embedded in her instrument. Forged in the fires of creation, the sapphire transcended the science of mankind. It warped the fundamental forces of the universe to turn fantasy into reality. Ember's fantasy had been to compel her subjects to obey her commands forever. But with Ember's specific commands erased from Danny's mind, only the compelling force of the gem remained.

The bombardment of the sonic weapon was agonizing on a molecular level, and the gem compelled his pain to amplify. Every aspect of Danny's physicality and mentality was forced, but with no ultimate purpose. Green energy emanated from his head in waves. His emotions, his fears and desires, his apprehension and anticipation, all of these were compelled to magnify simultaneously in his mind.

Snowy white hair rose up as the air around Danny began to spin. The dull hum of the energy spilling off of Danny's body, combined with the rattling of the equipment caught in the howling air stream were almost loud enough to drown out Danny's screams. Unable to fight the gem's unyielding compulsion, Danny's mind snapped. His hair exploded into a white flame atop his head, and his skin continued to ripple and distort. Black veins bulged up from his neck. Sam had shuffled over to Tucker in all the commotion, and Danny shot them a look of helplessness and desperation before his green eyes were wholly flooded with blackness. His head snapped back and Danny gave one final howl, only this time his scream carried force. The ceiling exploded upwards, and any solid matter between Danny's mouth and the sky was obliterated as his ghostly wail accelerated upwards and out of the building.

Sam and Tucker gasped when Danny looked back at them. Whatever he had just expelled from his body had taken Danny's teeth, tongue, and lips with it. The dangling flesh quickly sealed over the wound, leaving pale skin where his mouth once was. Tucker had no insights into Danny's mind; he had no way of knowing that the gem was responsible, or what it was doing to his friend.

He had no way of knowing that it had begun to whisper commands in Danny's mind, or that its first command was the extinction of the human race.

---

When the officers of the private security firm lost contact with the main office, Skulker knew the plan was working. They were in disarray, but it was only a matter of time before they sent someone to check on the situation. To his dismay, Skulker recognized Plan A was going to fail when Ember suddenly appeared on stage. The show was starting earlier than he expected, and the children couldn't get to the guitar while she was on stage with hundreds of people chanting her name.

He prepared to kick off his own Plan B when the roof off to the side of the stage exploded upwards and the Ghost Sirens started wailing in the distance. His schematics showed that the damage came from the security office and Skulker felt a tightness in his chest he hadn't experienced in some time. Ember was already storming off the stage in that direction; he had to beat her there. As Skulker sprinted across the roof of the amphitheater, he remotely activated the fire alarm in an attempt to drive the attendees out of harm's way.

Throwing stealth to the wind, Skulker threw himself down through a ceiling window in one of the offices, tucked and rolled through a door into the hallway, and continued sprinting towards the security office. Terrified humans threw themselves to the floor and hugged the walls as the massive robot charged past, and many began screaming and running. Just as he was about to turn the corner to the security office, Ember burst through a set of double doors at the other end of the corridor.

"You!" she spat. "Do you have any idea what you've-"

A shrill scream interrupted Ember. The two sped for the security office to find Tucker and Samantha scrambling against the far wall as someone approached them. Skulker balked once he realized the flame-headed, black-eyed, mouthless figure was Daniel.

"Is that the dipstick?" Ember asked, entering the room behind Skulker. "Hey, kid, what happened to you?"

"Skulker," Samantha started from her huddled position on the floor.

Daniel's attention snapped back to her. He lifted an arm and it charged with green energy. Without hesitation, Skulker flung his own arm forward and fired a spinning razor disc from above his wrist. The circular blade cut clean through the boy's arm lobbing it off just below the elbow. The green energy in the limb faded and died, but instead of lying dead on the ground, it melted into black goo. Before it had even finished decomposing, a new limb sprouted from the wound. Daniel's dead, black eyes turned on Skulker.

"Nice trick, huh?" Ember walked past Skulker and up to what she thought was still her thrall. "Well you've gone and done it this time, lover. Tanked this show, ruined my deal, and probably destroyed my career. I'm done with you." She turned to face Skulker with a wicked grin on her face. "Danny, sic 'em."

The boy did nothing of the sort. Instead, faster than Skulker's advanced optics could follow, Daniel appeared to teleport in front of Ember, leaning forward with his fist stretched out. Green blood and bile flew from Ember's mouth as the force of the impact to her stomach sent her blasting through the wall of the security office and out into the street.

Spinning around, the Ghost Boy fired beams of green energy from his hands at Skulker. Skulker turned and raised an arm to defend his head while Daniel pushed the attack. Skulker reached into an oversized pocked with his free hand and retrieved a grenade launcher as it detached itself from within his leg. He brought the weapon to bear and fired a round into Daniel's chest. The force of the round flung Daniel through the hole in the wall and the explosion sent his body tumbling to the streets below.

"Samantha, Tucker, are you alright?" Skulker asked. He noticed a highly visible bruise on Samantha's neck in the shape of a hand. "What did he do to you?"

"Aside from this?" Samantha brushed her fingers across the mark. "Nothing." Her voice was hoarse, and Tucker helped her to her feet.

"What happened?"

"Plan B," Tucker answered. "We were out of options. If I had known this was going to happen…"

"You did what you had to do. Now you must flee, it is far too dangerous for you to remain. I will do what I can to stop him."

"Skulker, you can't," Samantha pleaded. "He'll kill you."

"He will try." Skulker took two long strides and threw himself out through the hole in the wall and into the street. He hoped the children would heed his warning.

"Skulker," a weak voice called out. He looked to the source and saw Ember lying in a pile of rubble on the other side of the street. A crowd had gathered around Ember and Daniel. "Behind…"

Before he could turn around, the Ghost Boy was on him again. A more powerful energy blast slammed into his shoulder and sent the robot shell spinning as Skulker fought to regain his footing. A powerful uppercut slammed into his jaw, cracking the metal alloy in Skulker's chin and sending the ghost sailing through the air. He bounced off the side of a building and collided with the sidewalk with a crunch as the concrete crumbled beneath his weight. The crowds began to panic and flee, but some misguided fools stayed behind to document the encounter on their phones.

Daniel descended on Skulker and gripped the robot's shoulders with new strength. His fingers dug into the metal before the boy launched him into the sky. The child shot up off the ground, leaving a trail of glowing green energy behind him. Daniel stopped some distance above Skulker's trajectory and wound up a fist. Despite his efforts to evade the blow, Daniel's fist still connected and shattered the metal panels on Skulker's back. Skulker flew back down toward the ground, but the Ghost Boy was waiting for him. A blast of energy shot up from the boy's hand, this one even stronger than the last, and tore through Skulker's abdomen, shining out through his back.

Redundant and backup systems prevented the blow from paralyzing Skulker's shell, but it was still severely damaged. Fortunately, Skulker was not the only one in this fight. Just as Daniel advanced on him again, a blue fist collided with the side of the boy's head and propelled him into another building.

"Ember?" Skulker started. "I thought you were down for the count."

"Just knocked the wind out of me." She extended a hand, which Skulker accepted. "Is this what you were talking about the other day?" she asked, pulling the larger ghost to his feet. "About my allies turning on me?"

"I was not specifically referencing this," Skulker gestured at Daniel, who had floated up out of the rubble that had fallen on him. "But something like this was bound to happen when you deal with the likes of Technus and his master."

When Daniel charged again, Ember swung her guitar in an upward slicing motion. The blade caught the boy in the chest, spraying black slime into the air. Skulker leapt into the air and fired more circular blades at Daniel's arms, severing them. Ember dashed underneath and swung her guitar in an arc, embedding the bladed edge of her instrument into his back. She flung the armless body into the same building as before. Daniel's arms quickly began to grow back.

"So what, you don't work for your boss anymore?" Ember continued, preparing herself for the Ghost Boy's next attack.

"I do not work for anyone anymore."

"And all because of these kids. Why do you care so much?"

Daniel floated up out of the rubble again and began flying towards them.

"If we survive this, I'll tell you."

It soon became apparent to Skulker that surviving this encounter was unlikely. The Ghost Boy was faster and stronger, and channeled that into an unusual, unpredictable fighting style. Ember swung her guitar down, attempting to cleave his head in half, but Daniel had blinked back several meters. As Ember's blade slammed into the pavement, the boy's fist rocketed up and hit her square in the jaw. Fragments of teeth and globules of green blood flew from her mouth and her head snapped back as she stumbled away from her instrument.

Skulker's fist smacked into Daniel's open palm; it was waiting for the blow. The boy spun around and tugged, flipping Skulker over his shoulder and slamming the robot shell hard onto the pavement. A black boot kicked backwards and knocked Ember's leg out from under her as she charged Daniel from behind. Ember fell on the boy's back, and he grabbed her arms in a vice grip before blasting off into the sky. Once high above the buildings, he released his grip and spun away from Ember, firing bolt after bolt of energy into her body.

On the ground below, Skulker righted himself and yanked Ember's guitar free. He spotted the two fighting up in the air and tried to fire up his main engine, but it had been damaged by Daniel. Carefully calculating his trajectory, Skulker fired off his boot thrusters at maximum strength. The force carried him close enough to his target to fire off his energy net. The electrified webbing wrapped around Daniel and shocked him with a constant stream of thousands of volts of electricity. Skulker yanked the net closer and swung at Daniel's head with the guitar. The blunt edge clobbered the boy in the temple, and he fell from the sky.

Two small, blue hands caught Skulker under the arms, keeping him from plummeting to the ground. "I thought you didn't want these kids to be harmed," Ember remarked as she flew them to the ground.

"The boy can take it. And I am not trying to kill him; I am trying to restrain him long enough for you to remove your hold over his mind."

"Earth to Skulker, he isn't my play thing anymore," Ember snapped. "Whatever those kids you love so much did to him, it broke the spell."

"Something is still affecting his mind," Skulker slid out of Ember's grip as they reached the ground. "Your spell is the only explanation."

A bolt of green lightning shot out of the dust from the crater left in the ground from Daniel's impact. It flung Skulker back into an abandoned truck, flipping the vehicle over. The Ghost Boy emerged holding the shredded remains of Skulker's net in one hand and charging more electricity in the other. Ember stepped in to intercept the blast; the blue flame on top of her hair roared to life and surged forward to intercept the second bolt. The explosion whipped up another dust cloud. Ember retrieved her guitar and flew in, wielding it like an axe as she took Daniel on by herself again. Their battle took to the skies, leaving a heavily damaged Skulker on the ground with no way to reach them; the jolt of the Ghost Boy's electricity had fried what remained of his propulsion systems.

Suddenly, Skulker was hoisted into a sitting position. He found himself looking into the tearful eyes of Madeline Fenton.

"No sudden moves spook," the unmistakable voice of Jack Fenton spoke from behind him.

It was then Skulker noticed the Fenton One Shot, mounted on the assault RV, was aimed directly at his face. "You have convinced me. No sudden moves."

All three turned their attention skyward as thunder boomed above them. Flashes of green lightning and blue fire could be seen from their vantage, but only Skulker was able to magnify and observe the actual combatants from the ground.

"Is that our son up there?" Maddie demanded, turning her attention back to Skulker.

"This situation continues to deteriorate before my very optics," Skulker mused aloud.

"What?"

"Apologies. I have sustained massive damage to several critical systems. I did not expect I would be the one to tell you, but yes. That is your son."

Maddie wiped the tears from her eyes, but made sure to keep the One Shot trained on Skulker with the remote control he now saw in her hand. "He's in danger?"

"We are all in danger. The ghost he is fighting attempted to dominate his mind with a spell, but… my efforts to free him backfired, it drove him insane."

"So you did this?!" Jack growled in his audio receptor.

"If, by 'did this', you mean 'attempted to save his life', then yes. I am responsible."

"Why do you care about what happens to our boy?" Maddie hissed.

The sounds of combat were growing closer, and Skulker knew it was only a matter of time before Ember lost the upper hand. Slowly, Skulker rose to his full height, towering over even Jack. Maddie tracked his movement with the One Shot.

"I will be happy to discuss my motives, and any other items of interest to you, at a later date. At the moment, all of our lives are in jeopardy, including your son's. Join with me, and together we can save him."

Jack and Maddie exchanged looks, but only briefly. The enemy of my enemy…

"We'll do it. On one condition…"

---

In all her years in the Void and on Earth, Ember had never truly experienced what humans called 'getting your ass handed to you'. If she didn't find some way to shut down the dipstick, she felt he might literally act that out. He was certainly capable.

Danny flew in from the storm clouds which had accumulated during their engagement, firing lightning bolts out of his hands at her. Each one was deftly swatted away with her guitar, and she succeeded in cleaving his arm away from his body, along with a good chunk of his shoulder. Instead of growing a new limb within seconds, black, gooey tendrils shot out and stabbed into the limb the instant Ember's guitar blade had passed through. The tendrils yanked the limb back into place, and it immediately worked again. If this kept up, Ember wouldn't last much longer.

Ember delivered a series of swift kicks to Danny's midsection, following up with a vicious swing of her guitar. The blow knocked Danny back and put some distance between her and the Ghost Boy, but only for a moment. He blinked in, either teleporting or moving too fast to track the movement, and grabbed the sides of Ember's head. He slammed her face into his forehead several times before driving a fist straight into her broken nose. Ember tumbled through the sky, jerking in pain as Danny followed her with green lightning bolts. Righting herself, Ember swung at Danny's waist with her blade. His body turned intangible and the axe phased right through.

Capitalizing on the lull in Ember's momentum, Danny grabbed the arm closest to him and slammed his fist into Ember's elbow. She cried out as the limb snapped and bent the wrong way. He followed up with a swift chop to her throat, and then he grabbed the guitar out of her one working hand.

"Gibe dat back, you-" Ember did not finish her sentence before a massive bolt of green lightning surged into her body. Smoking and charred, but still alive, Ember floated in the air for a moment before starting to tumble downward.

Her momentum was not fast enough for Danny. He flew in, grabbed one of her legs, and began spinning furiously. When he let go, Ember sped like a comet to the ground with a streak of blue fire trailing behind her. Danny wound up and hurled the guitar after her before speeding towards the ground himself.

The impact crater caused by Ember's forceful reunion with the ground had collapsed the street into the sewer below. Broken pipes flooded the bottom of the pit with fetid water. Just as Ember began to push herself up out of the muck, her guitar blade stabbed through her shoulder and pinned her to the pavement with a sickening wet crunch. She tried to cry out, but the last of her energy was quickly fading away. Danny floated down into the pit beside her and wrenched the guitar out of Ember's back. She groaned and tried to shuffle away, but a firm boot kept her anchored in place.

Before Danny could deliver a killing blow, Skulker body checked him, sending the Ghost Boy crashing into the side of the crater. The guitar clattered to the ground, and Skulker quickly scooped it up. Daniel's hand shot out and fired several energy blasts at Skulker. One severed the servos in his arm, the other went wide, but the last one hit Skulker's head. The beam was thin and sliced through the top of Skulker's cranium with the power of an industrial cutting laser. Green flames erupted from the wound, just as they had done from his chin earlier. As Skulker tumbled back from the force of the blow, he tossed the guitar high up into the air.

Ember watched Danny leap on top of Skulker, tearing at his chest panels and the delicate systems beneath. Above them, a bolt of white energy shot out from some unknown source and collided with the guitar. Tears swelled up in Ember's eyes as the guitar exploded in a ball of blue fire.

As if a switch was flipped somewhere in Danny's mind, the fire on top of his head dissipated and returned to normal white hair. The blackness retreated from his eyes and veins, and his mouth reformed on his face. The instant he returned to his normal ghost form, the glowing green rings formed at his waist and spread across his body, turning him back to normal. Danny Fenton collapsed on top of Skulker; human again.

"Ember…" Skulker spoke at last. "Are you still alive?"

"Yes," she choked out. "Thank you for asking."

"You are welcome."

"Skulker?"

"Yes, Ember?"

"I… I don't think I'm going… to make it."

Several seconds passed. "I know. Your injuries are many and grievous."

"You really… have a way… of saying goodbye…"

"As luck would have it," Ember felt the cold metal of Skulker's hand brush against her cheek. "I am not saying goodbye. You and I will cross paths again someday, Ember."

"In what… the after-after-life?" Ember tried to chuckle, but the effort drained even more of her remaining energy. "It's oblivion… for our kind… when we go…"

"You asked me why I fought for these children," Skulker stroked her cheek gently. "It is because of you, Ember. You showed me there were good things worth living and fighting and dying for."

Ember felt herself slipping away. It was a calm feeling, a restful feeling. A flash of blindingly brilliant silver light washed over her, and Ember let go.

---

Skulker looked at the Fenton Thermos in his hand, reading [OCCUPIED], and sighed in relief. With his one arm disabled from the last blast of energy from Daniel, he almost did not free the device from beneath him in time to capture Ember before she died.

Turning his attention to Daniel, what remained of his scanning systems informed him that the boy was alive; severely dehydrated, but otherwise alright. From the looks of him, the boy hadn't eaten in several days. Skulker wondered if the he was being sustained by his own core for the duration of this incident, or even longer.

At the top of the crater, Skulker spied Jack and Madeline Fenton looking down at him. From this distance, and due to the damage to his systems, there was only one way Skulker could think to communicate his success.

He gave them a thumbs-up.

---

In the Fenton household, most of the day after the incident downtown had been spent in the living room. Local news stations were covering the story all day, and the television was left on as background noise. Daniel had yet to wake up from his battle, and was resting in his bedroom. The attention of Jack and Madeline Fenton was laser-focused on their Skulker's eight-foot-tall robotic shell. It stood motionless in their living room, save for the flickering green flame which now emanated from the open wound on top of his cranium.

The better part of the afternoon had seen Skulker explain events as best he knew them, starting from his arrival in Amity Park following the Lunch Lady ghost incident and culminating in the events of the night before. Certain key details had been left out, specifically Skulker's true purpose in town and the nature of his line of work. Certain creative liberties were taken with his motives.

"So who was this Ember ghost?" Jack asked. "Were you hunting her, too?"

The Ghost Zone's greatest hunter fib had apparently worked. "Ember was an ectosapien who fled to Earth before the start of the Ghost Wars. Her intellect and unique abilities, coupled with her enhanced strength and endurance categorize her as a Level Three on the Neutron Level System. She posed as a human musician for several years, allowing her to hide some of her ghostly traits from the public under the guise of eccentricity or theatricality."

"It looked like you two… knew one another?" Maddie probed.

"We were close once," Skulker admitted. If he was uncomfortable answering the question, it didn't show. "That was a long time ago."

"What happens now?" Maddie asked.

"Daniel has shown an aptitude for heroism, and a firm dedication to protecting this city against the new wave of threats which it now faces."

"But we can't ignore what's staring us right in the face; they're putting him – heck, probably all of us – in serious danger." Jack said firmly.

"I find it unlikely that Daniel is acting as a magnet for these new threats. Your portal is a more likely culprit, as it was the entry point for the meat ogre ghost. Even still, the dragon ghost that possessed Tucker Foley entered this world through a temporary portal. And Ember McLain was on tour, passing through town when she encountered your son."

"She was supposed to be in New York at the time," Maddie commented. "The meat ogre ghost was the only breach in portal security we've encountered. We locked it down after that incident, and haven't reopened it since. In any case, I'm having trouble believing that these incidents happen to be untimely coincidences."

"I'm not buying the coincidence angle either," Jack added.

"Had it been Ember or any other ghost, Daniel would have intervened. Amity Park is his territory, he will respond to threats against it. It is his instinct now."

"You're talking about him like he's completely a ghost, completely one of you," Maddie said, making no effort to hide the contempt in her voice. "He's still our son, even if he does have these powers."

"Which is why we think it's a good idea to try and remove his powers," Jack chimed in.

"Remove?" Skulker asked incredulously.

"Yes," Maddie replied sternly. "We have no idea how these powers are affecting him. Did you see what Ember's spell turned him into? Did you see how gaunt he looked once we got him back? How much longer until he wastes away into nothing or turns into one of these monsters?"

"You do not even understand how Daniel received his powers. The exposure to the level of energy required to activate your portal is more than enough to dissolve a human into a puddle of radioactive waste, and yet he survived. He has defeated four ghosts since receiving his powers – five if you count my near-demise at his hands. He has recovered from a broken body and, perhaps more significantly, a broken mind."

"So we just let him keep fighting?" Jack asked somberly. "We keep letting him throw himself between us and the monsters? I don't know how many more times I can watch my son come so close to death before my mind breaks."

"Even if these more powerful ghosts are drawn here by your son's new supernatural nature, you cannot remove his powers. Daniel is the only one who can stand between you and the monsters, and they will keep coming whether he has the ability to fight them or not. He will grow stronger, more resilient, and more capable of meeting the threats head on."

"That isn't Danny's responsibility," Maddie interjected. "He didn't ask for this, it isn't solely on his shoulders to keep the whole world safe from whatever comes crawling out of the Ghost Zone."

"It may not his responsibility to act as a sentinel those who would raze this planet. There are others, I understand, who are better qualified." The Fentons shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. "Regardless, word of Daniel's triumph over Prince Aragon and Ember will inevitably draw even more powerful foes from the recesses of the Void. They will come for him, and if he cannot defend himself, he will die."

"We can protect our family, thank you very much," Jack grumbled.

"Is that so? You did not appear poised for victory against the dragon prince. Had Daniel not arrived back on the scene when he did, it is very likely one or both of you would have perished. The same can be said of all your other recent encounters."

Both parents were silent.

"In the short term it may be beneficial to remove the source of Daniel's power, if such a feat is possible. I do not know if it is. What I do know is that his power is growing, and the more it grows, the better he will be able to defend this city and, perhaps, the world, when the time is right. He certainly has the potential."

For a moment, Danny's parents stared into each other's eyes. It looked as though they had already discussed this possibility. "I don't like this. At all," Maddie started. "But until we find a different way… a better way…"

"Will you help him reach that potential?" Jack finished. "And can you keep him safe along the way?"

Skulker folded his arms across his broad chest. "If he will have me, I will train him. But I cannot be his only pillar of support. Your son has been abruptly thrust into your world – a world of war, of monsters, and of fear; whatever misgivings you have about his changes, you must continue to support him. He will fail without you… and we will all suffer the consequences."

After a long silence, Maddie spoke first. "It will take a lot of adjustment."

"At the end of the day, not matter what freaky powers he has, Danny's our son. We've got his back, against all comers."

Skulker couldn't help but take notice of the lack of conviction in Maddie's voice, but chose not to pry further – his message was clear. He left them, activating his reflective camouflage and leaving through the back door. Once airborne, Skulker began to plan. He had not lied to the Fentons when he told them more powerful ectosapiens would be coming for Danny. He failed to tell them that these new enemies were very likely already making their move.

---

"I did what?!" Danny nearly shouted into his cellphone. His throat was still sore, and the effort made him wince. Not such an adverse reaction, considering what had happened to his throat the night before.

"Relax, Danny," Sam tried to soothe her friend. "It was Ember, not you. It's fine."

"Uh, no freaking way, Sam. I tried to strangle you? I bruised your neck? How is that fine?!"

"I'm alive, how's that for starters?"

"…pretty good. I don't think I'll ever find a way to apologize, though."

Sam sighed exasperatedly. "You'll think of something, I'm sure."

"I can't believe I did that."

"Will you quit it? We all got out alive again, stop being such a big baby."

"So what's the damage from your parents?"

"For what, cutting class all day, and then going to a concert without their permission? Grounded, of course. Tucker got the same treatment."

"My fault again," Danny added sadly.

"On the bright side, this time the ghost stuff happened completely separately from our bad behavior, as far as our parents know, so my parents' distaste for you hasn't gone up any more than it does any other day."

"Good to know. How is Tucker? He hasn't been returning my calls."

"Mine either. He poured out his soul to you back there; it was some really heavy stuff."

"And, of course, I don't remember any of it. Just bits and pieces from the last few days." Danny paused for a few seconds. "Am I a bad friend?"

"Oh, for the love of- where is this coming from now? Because of the choking thing?"

"No, not just that. I feel like I'm failing Tucker. Like, we should be able to talk this stuff out, but he's pulling away."

"You said so yourself yesterday, this talk it over stuff is probably your sister talking. You shouldn't try to do what she does. We both just need to keep being good friends, to Tucker and to each other. And we definitely are good friends, Danny."

"If you say so," Danny said with a chuckle. "Thanks, Sam."

"Anytime. And since we're talking about really awkward, uncomfortable shit, what's the deal with your parents? They know now?"

"They woke me up earlier before they left for the Governor's office. I was still a little groggy, but I guess they teamed up with Skulker to save me from Ember's spell. Her thermos is sealed away in the cryogenic storage vault in the lab, and I'm still alive. I guess we're going to talk more when they get back, but so far they seem… maybe not okay with everything, but they haven't tried to vivisect me, so that's a good start."

"That is a good start! This has got to make things easier, right? No more sneaking around and hiding it from them."

"I hope so. Listen, I'm gonna try Tucker again, then try to eat something. I look like I'm starving, it's kinda weird."

"Sounds good. Let me know if you get ahold of Tucker."

"Will do, see you later."

Danny was unable to reach Tucker, for the umpteenth time, and decided to try again later. It gave him time to think, but none of the thoughts were good ones. He could only remember flashes, bits and pieces, from the last few days, but it was enough to fill him with worry. How much stronger, more cunning were his foes becoming? How much longer until he went toe to toe with a monster that couldn't be beat?

How much longer would he hear the sapphire from Ember's guitar whisper in the recesses of his mind?

---

The hour long drive north to Sacramento and waiting in the Governor's office had sent Jack through various emotional states; nervousness, excitement, guilt, worry, and a cascade of others had all washed through his mind. He noticed his wife seemed much more reserved, but he knew she was experiencing at least some of what he felt. After all, the two were not just in Sacramento to see the Governor.

"I finished the report just before you got here," Governor Wahlberg remarked, setting a folder down on his desk after welcoming the Fentons inside. His Boston accent was much more noticeable in person. "A musical ghost with a magic guitar, huh?"

"You can't make this stuff up," Jack said cheekily.

"No kidding. Looks like she did a lot of damage; thank God nobody was killed this time, but the property damage makes the last incident look like a drop in the bucket and we're still getting updates to the initial estimate."

"If there was a way to stop these fights before they caused so much damage, believe me, Governor, we would've already implemented it," Maddie spoke up; catching the direction the Governor was going.

"The Commander in Chief thinks there is a way to do just that. It's why he reactivated the SSDF."

"Uh, fully reactivated?" Jack asked for clarification. "Maddie tells me that they were never completely shut down."

"To be perfectly honest, Mr. Fenton, I'm not the best guy to ask about those details. I suspect my other guest is better suited to that task." Governor Wahlberg buzzed his secretary twice over the intercom.

Opposite the entrance the Fenton's had used, a set of double doors swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room. His head was shaven and a neatly cropped goatee framed his thin-lipped mouth. The man's dark, olive skin was offset by a spotless, tailored white suit and thin black tie.

"Jack and Maddie," he spoke in a gravelly voice with a Manchester accent. James Steele, the reinstated Director of the Strategic Supernatural Defense Force slid a pair of aviator sunglasses off his face, revealing his pensive, sullen eyes. "We need to talk."

---

The crater left in the street outside the amphitheater was cordoned off and under constant police surveillance. As night fell, most of the crowds and tourists had dispersed, but a few stragglers remained behind. A woman wearing black jeans and a red sweatshirt with the hood drawn down over her eyes kept her distance, but not out of superstition or fear. It just would have been awkward trying to explain the snake that slithered out from her pant leg and into the storm drain behind her.

The black reptile turned intangible and eased its way through the ground over to the crater. In seconds it found its target – a Clementine-sized sapphire buried underneath some rubble. The snake returned to its master and slithered back up her pant leg, setting the sapphire in the woman's pocket before assuming its disguise as a tattoo on her green skin.

One down, three to go.

To Be Continued