Danny Phantom

Invasion

Chapter Twelve:

They Called her Mother

He had no idea why he was still living, still breathing, but he was. Well, not in the way he was used to, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered. Something had changed inside him, something new and amazing. The senses were almost enough to make his head spin, that is, if he'd still had a head to spin. The others would surely come, and when they did, he could reclaim them, and they would feed him. His power would grow off of the sacrifices of his people.

But why, he thought, should he stop at his own people? Weren't there billions thriving on this tiny speck of dirt floating through space? Weren't there enough of them to spread his plague, his legacy, throughout the galaxy? There had to be. This planet was crawling with potential chosen carriers. They would all serve him well, serve to carry his children. And the mutation, well, a slight setback, but nothing that couldn't be rectified when he became one with the planet. It was simply a matter of time.

Plans aside, he tried to move. He had to have movement left, he assumed. And he did, but not in the way he remembered. There were still tendrils, but he couldn't change them to his bidding. Well, they grew when commanded, and they were still the same familiar cold steel, but that was about it. It would do for now, because all he really had to do was gather the remains of his fallen comrades. It was easy enough, as they were strewn about fairly close to him. Though it had been a close call when the meddling worms had come investigating the deaths of his fellow men. So close, in fact, that he'd nearly attacked the boy to silence him. In the end, however, they blamed the female, the evil one. Her name was lost to him. Much of his memories were.

He tried not to think about it. He had other things to worry about, such as leaving his legacy rooted into the Earth through the rock and steel and dirt, and even in the pathetic life that scurried across the surface. Or at least, what little would be left once that woman had her way with them. He'd felt it when the life had gone away, taking its delightful green with it. He was angry, but that was nothing that couldn't be fixed, not once they all left him to his work.

And so to begin, since the others had left him alone, he'd burrowed into the Earth, entangling himself within the life and spirit of the planet itself. He forced himself through it and dominated it.

And then it all began to decay. Wonderful, beautiful green. It was different from the life he'd remembered only days before. Oh so different... but he didn't care. All that mattered to him was the lovely green and the tingling it sent through his vines.

Once he'd hollowed out a nice little spot for himself deep within the planet, he began to spawn his children, the offspring that would pass on his living legacy. They were certainly not beautiful, but life itself was beautiful, so they were beauty in itself. To others, however, they were less than beauty. In fact, they were abhorrent to the eye and ear of man. Blood-curdling shrieks issued from their gaping maws, making the very flesh crawl. They weren't very large, and if they weren't so slimy, they might almost pass for a plant. But they didn't. They were very slimy, a writhing mass of tentacles with one tooth-filled hole for a mouth. He found them delightfully charming... but the humans did not.

Even less so when he turned the spawn against them. Their little tentacles, though slimy, were numerous, and impossible to get off once attached. They scurried up the form of their target to the top of the head, where it was the mouth's turn to play. The sharp needle-like teeth bored millions of little holes in a circular pattern on the skull, and then the mouth suctioned it out, chewing it and eating it. Once that was finished, there was no hope left for the poor soul who'd fallen victim to the spawn. Their brain, the very essence of their being, was sucked out forcefully through the hole and devoured like the bit of bone. One would hope that the death would be quick and painless, that there is little suffering, but none have ever survived to tell of that part. And one can only assumed that having the brain ripped out of one's skull wouldn't be a pleasurable experience.

When there was nothing left to control the body, the tentacles slip in through the hole in the skull, along with forcing their way in through the base of the skull near the brain stem, through the eye-sockets, through the nose, the ears, and the mouth. The nerve-sensitive endings in their tentacles would then slide into what was left of the brain stem and take over the nervous system before the heart ceased beating. And it all occurred in a matter of seconds.

Their numbers were low to start out with. He couldn't have a mass-panic messing up his plans, so he coerced a few victims into his service and hid away, deep within the heart of his own decay, and waited. The time was soon to come.

"Are we clear on our plan, then?" Depravity asked, folding her arms. She'd traded her skirt and shirt for a form-fitting catsuit and a long, dark-brown trench coat. She liked it better. Jaston nodded as he traced a finger through the dirt while he sketched out his end of the deal.

"You, Lady Depravity, are going to heaven to dispatch your mother and siblings, while I head to the west to locate the Wind Goddess and steal her essence."

"And while he's doing that, I'll be brewing up another batch of Hysteria to unleash upon the denizens of hell," Miriana supplied, her smile becoming quite insane.

"That leaves me to dispose of Clockwork." Dan crossed his arms, cackling under his breath.

And with that Depravity appeared to wink out of existence. In truth, she'd merely torn a tiny hole in the fabrics of reality, allowing her body to slip into Heaven unnoticed, something she had been unable to do as a Ghost alone. It was difficult, but with her new body, it was like a knife through butter. The realm she had been born into, the realm she'd once called home, it looked the same as when she'd last seen it only fifty years ago. It had taken that long for events to be set into motion, but she didn't care. She was back, and ready to finish what she'd started.

The realm itself was white and misty as always, and the spirits floated lazily about. Most of them ignored her, though a few stopped every now and then to give her the once-over before moving on to rest again. That was fine by her, and she let them be. She didn't want to create a disturbance that might bring Mother's attention, for if the deity of light were to discover her daughter had once more breeched the skies, Depravity might not get the chance to collect her orb. She needed that element of surprise.

Unknown to the dark Ancient, however, Mother's clairvoyance had shown her this very event years ago, during the fight between her daughter and the being she created... the hybrid boy. She had already seen her own fate, and knew it was unwise to try and change it. So she wasn't going to. However, she had not seen the fate of her other eight children, and had forced them away. Chaste and Ire had been hard-pressed to leave their mother's side, but in the end, they were dragged away by Ardor, who understood the dark tidings Mother had felt she'd wrought upon herself. After all, it had been her mistake to hide her apocalypse within the soul of her eldest daughter.

But what most of the children didn't know, something that Lore would explain to them later, was why Mother had chosen to remain behind to deal with Depravity. After all, she had no intention of killing her daughter, let alone fighting her again. Her only purpose was to ask one single, simple question. She knew she couldn't fight. Her connection to life had been severed when she'd felt her sisters pass from life, something that was like a knife being jammed between her ribs. Even if she'd wanted to fight, there was too much pain to stand it. For now, all she could hope was that her Sempiternal would win out, in the very end. Only Mobieus knew that answer, though.

This was how Depravity found the woman who'd given her life. Standing within her chamber, staring longingly down at the planet she'd worked so hard to create, only to leave it to its possibly grim fate.

"Mother," she said, striding in. The sounds of her boots clicking on the stone echoed off the chamber walls. Mother nodded, her hands folded behind her back serenely.

"Depravity."

"You were expecting me, then?"

"As always. I know why you're here, child. I know what it is you seek, and I will not stop you. I haven't the power to any longer."

Depravity sneered. "I wasn't sure if it was true, but apparently it is. You're sisters, auntie Ravial and auntie Kalliva, they held your connection, didn't they?" she asked, snickering slightly. "I should have suspected as much. But that's not important anymore. If you know what I want, how come you don't just give it here?"

Mother sighed, sadness in her tone. "I cannot take my own life, dear child. You know that better than anyone else. But, as you are my daughter, I am not going to stop you. I only have one question I wish answered before you rip my very soul from my body."

Depravity twinged at her mother's words, as they were sharp as a whip and cold as ice, but her face betrayed nothing. She forced the sliver of pity she felt into the depths of her heart and said, "What then?"

"I want to know why. Why is it so important that you take this power from me and my kin, why must you feel this hate?"

She didn't answer at first, and when she did, it was slowly, as though she were searching out the proper words. "You did this to me," she whispered. "You lied to me. You told me I could see him again, and you lied. And the boy, the one who killed me, he didn't care that he killed me. He'd gladly do it again, if given the chance. But all he did was watch me die. You put those filthy creatures there in place of my hellions, and that is something I cannot accept."

Mother nodded. "So your motives have not changed, but your methods have."

Depravity was silent, and then in a flash of dark she slipped forward, thrusting her palm through the woman's back. Mother remained silent, her face vigilant, though one single golden tear rolled down her pale cheek.

"You only said one question, not two," Depravity whispered into her mother's ear. "I'm sorry, but time's up. It's been up for a long time, now." She twisted, and Mother jerked slightly, but refused to cry out. She would not die a coward's death, and she would not beg. It was below her as a Goddess.

Danny banged on the door, hard. The Wisconsin dairy castle had been rebuilt since he'd last seen it. And apparently, the rich man living inside it had decided to shell out a few extra million to make it even more extravagant than it had been before. A tall man in a tuxedo answered, his nose turned up.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah, I need to see Vlad Masters. I'm an old friend."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"An appointment? No... look, I just need to talk to Vlad!"

"I'm sorry, young man, but you may not see Mr. Masters without an appoint-"

"Wait, Charles, let me see who it is," came a familiar voice from within the stone hall. The butler at the door gave a slight eye-roll before stepping aside to allow his employer to see who'd barged in on his bath time. The expression on his face was like gold to Danny. Shock and terror all in one neat little bundle. However, Vlad didn't faint like Paulina had. Instead he dashed forward, grabbing Danny by the arm and yanking him inside.

"Daniel, how is this possible?" he whispered, prodding Danny's arm.

"Ow! Hey! I'm not a ghost!" he said, yanking his arm back. "I'm not here for small talk, either."

"I didn't suspect so. Come, we'll talk in private."

Vlad led him into a very lavish sitting room, where he gestured for Danny to sit in one of the large, cushy chairs. Danny did so.

"So, dear boy, why have you returned from the dead to seek out, of all people, me?" he asked, sitting in a chair across from Danny.

"She's back."

"Who's back?"

"Depravity. She's alive, she killed a whole bunch of shifters, set Dan, Miriana, and Jaston free, and then she just straight up vanished!" he said, now standing again. Vlad gaped at him.

"You mean to tell me that she's alive, and you can't find a destructive force on that scale?"

"She... she's keeping a low profile, I think. So I can't find her."

Vlad nodded and stood, crossing the room to the window. "I see. And you want my help? How would that benefit me?"

Danny glared at him angrily. "You never change, Plasmius," he snarled, folding his arms in front of him. "You don't help, the world could pretty much be destroyed. They're out there, they want us all dead, even you."

Vlad nodded. "I assumed as much. What of you then, dear boy? Are you on a crusade against darkness herself once again? Who's in your little crew this time?"

"That's not important. What's important is that you agree to help me. Just this once, or we're not going to be around much longer."

Vlad, at last, nodded. "I suppose-" he started, and was cut off when the entire earth began to tremble. "What is that?" he said, bracing himself against the wall as debris began falling from the ceiling and shelves. The trembling grew into full-blown rocking.

"I don't know!" Danny said, his body becoming intangible to avoid a chandelier that came crashing to the ground. He could hear the servants of the house screaming and running for cover. The pair leaped and phased through the wall as the rest of the castle came down in a pile of solid rock. Smoke obscured their vision, but when it cleared, Danny was certain he felt his stomach leap into his throat.

It was like everything in the world had suddenly died. The grass was brown, the trees had all lost their leaves, and all the wildlife had suddenly lived up to their name. Danny stared around, mortified. "What... the hell happened?" he whispered, slowly getting to his feet. And then above, something else happened. As though in a wave of darkness, the sun vanished, replaced by the dim glow of twilight. Danny's stomach dropped down again. "It's like light and nature just died..." he murmured, staring around.

Vlad's eyes turned somberly to the sky. "You don't know how right you just may be, Daniel."

Depravity was hesitant to withdraw her hand, but she did at last, and Mother's motionless form crumpled to the ground, where she lay in a peaceful position. The emotions welling up inside of her were pushed hastily aside and she turned to leave. Heaven had changed, she noticed, since the light had gone. She was holding it in her hand. The spirits had all hidden amongst the clouds, fearful that the dark would get them, too. She chuckled.

And then she wondered what might happen when Miriana collected her father's orb. He did dictate law, after all. Did that mean utter chaos might ensue? Not really, she supposed, since it would be her law to command as she pleased. And time would be a wonderful thing to command as well. She wondered how the others had progressed in their own quests, and why her mother had just let herself be killed. Had she seen the future? Did she know it was a waste to fight?

And then another thought occurred to her: where were the other eight ancients?

"So she's gone. I hadn't expected it to be so quick, but then again, I had also forgotten about her ability to see. No matter. What's done is done, and I should be preparing for the next stretch of the parade." He sighed deeply. "Mother is what we called her... she was always so full of life and energy. She loved to create. And now here, in these dark times, she's been forced to wallow in the darkness of death. It's quite sad, really." He paused, then shot a glance back. "I'd suggest you children hide. When he shows up, I guarantee it will be a messy affair."

They did as he told them, vanishing into the heart of the fortress just as the maniacal laughter began to echo through her walls. He turned to the swirling mirror and waited patiently as the front door was blasted off its hinges yet again. Even through the debris he knew who it was. With a slight smile he watched as the dark ghost forced his way into the room.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up at all."

"Clockwork. You knew I was coming."

"Yes, I knew. But then again, I know everything."

"Why a goddess would want to live in a dump like this is entirely beyond me," Jaston muttered to himself. It was dark now, so he assumed Depravity had succeeded in her mission. And he didn't mind. He'd liked it better like this.

He slid silently through the town. People were hiding in their homes, some superstitions taking over and forcing people to attempt to sacrifice others to "appease the Gods," which he found all entirely funny. He moved past them and to the house he'd been looking for, then gently rapped on the door. The woman that opened the door was no older than sixty, it appeared, with her graying red hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her teal eyes swept him over for the briefest instant before they widened and she took a step back.

He chuckled. "Hello, Jasmine."