**EDIT: I POSTED THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER AND THIS INTERLUDE AT THE SAME TIME. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ "THE ACTIVATION (PART II)" PLEASE GO BACK. MY BAD.**
Fun fact: I wrote this interlude before the climax. It gave me an incredible amount of direction and helped me stay focused, something I will forever be grateful for, lol.
It was also largely experimental. My goal was to stay omniscient. I tried my best not to fall back into a limited third person POV, but I'm pretty sure I failed. I'm sorry if that bothers anyone, but I do hope this ties things together for ya, in any case.
Interlude
A gentle chime cheerily welcomed a newcomer into the café. Located near Amity Park's community college, the quaint little place saw an obscene amount of traffic throughout the entire day. Though the lunchtime rush had already come and gone, quite a few patrons remained, idly sipping lukewarm coffees and teas, their laptops and highlighted notes perched precariously on tiny round tables. Most had their headphones in, clearly absorbed in their own little worlds of midterm crises and overdue papers. Fingers flew across keyboards and touchscreens, and only seldomly did hushed, stressed voices interrupt the studious silence.
As such, not one of the patrons paid any attention to the newcomer as she skirted the clutter of tables and ancient armchairs toward the worn wooden diner booths lined along the left-hand side of the café.
One of the two men sitting in the middle booth acknowledged her approach with little more than a flick of his gaze. She couldn't say how the man had beaten her to the café when she distinctly recalled seeing him lingering behind at FentonWorks.
The second man, dressed in an old hoodie and jeans, could not be more different than the first. Whereas the other sat with prim poise, his navy suit immaculate, the younger lounged, grinning like a fox at his phone.
"You look satisfied," the woman commented drily, removing her sunglasses and tossing them onto the tabletop.
The older of the men gave her a deadpan look that seemed to convey far more than she had any desire to unpack. The second man took absolutely no notice of her tone. He did, however, finally look up as she slid into the booth opposite him and his brother.
They looked a lot alike. Both brothers had pale eyes and strong jaws. They were both sly as eels, with intelligence that encouraged arrogance, but the younger of the two...
He was the one to watch.
"Aren't you ?" the younger man asked delightedly. He grinned with all his teeth.
The woman's lips twisted into a scowl that didn't fully coincide with the flutter of thrill in her chest. They were doing great things—she knew this—but she did not need to flatter anyone with falsehoods. "We failed."
"Ah, but that's the thing: I never expected to succeed ."
That was not the response she expected. He knew this. Her initial reaction betrayed her, but she schooled herself, an expression of stone settling over her features. "Remind me, then," she hissed, "what was the point of all this?"
If anything, the man's infuriating smile became even more so. For all of her brilliance and capability, the woman in front of him could be so... small-minded sometimes.
"To see how far we could go, of course." He took a sip of his still-steaming cappuccino and ignored the irritable huff from his older brother. Leaning forward, he whispered, "You can't tell me that your experience wasn't... enlightening. "
He pushed the cell phone toward her. It displayed a few interesting bits of data they managed to collect from the day. She softened almost immediately. Even without the visuals before her, she could not argue that point. Not in the least. The dangerous thrill of the unknown held her captive, just as much as the charisma of the man before her always did.
"The boy is a fascinating case," she murmured, almost mournfully. She had likely ruined any sort of future rapport with the subject. Shame, really. That single conversation had revealed more to her than she would have ever expected. "What I would give..."
"What we gave," the older brother snarked suddenly, "were leads. Something for the boy and his caboodle of allies to investigate. Use against us. The Mansons were compromised. The devices are in the Fentons' hands." He glowered at his younger brother. "Success and failure doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things when all we've really done here was follow your reckless whims!"
The younger waved his hand. He gave zero shits about his brother's social circle. Nor did he care that they could not retrieve their little Vladco inventions. Assuming they were intact, they were hardly salvageable after the remote wipe he'd done, anyway. He'd ensured there was not a single speck of evidence that could be traced back to them besides. "Nothing happened that I didn't account for."
"This was dangerous . And ill-advised." The older brother's gilded voice became poisonous in his disapproval. "As much as I agree the boy needs careful handling, this has gone too far."
The younger brother's addictive glee disappeared into a sudden vacuum of cold anger. "You don't believe that," he said. "Not truly. If you did, you never would have suggested using the Mansons. And you never would have found us the clown."
"But I never —"
"We need to learn how to control them, Robert."
"Not like this," the older man argued.
This again. So small-minded. And so, so weak. This kind of caution did not inspire innovation. It was not wisdom so much as it was a barrier.
He could not afford to cater to it.
Neither of his partners could see the whole picture. His brother was a coward. The woman before him, while brilliant and useful, was also far too myopic to see beyond her own indulgent pet projects sometimes. The Fentons sure as hell didn't see it either. But they would. Someday. All of them would.
They'd all see that Pariah Dark had the right idea but...the wrong execution.
He had every intention to fix that.
This was only the first stage, barely a baby step into the plans he'd been culminating ever since he learned about the existence of the Danny Phantom. The man looked back down at his phone, lips pulling back into a feral smile as he once again scanned the physical evidence of just how far they had gotten.
Implanting an idea like that into Phantom's mind, encouraging his whole psyche to revolt...It wasn't enough. It never would be. Not until the kid was back in his hands. Daniel Fenton-Phantom was an enigma. More so now than ever. And he was going to be the one to crack him open and understand all his pieces.
With Showenhower on their side? With his intimate knowledge and family history? They weren't only going to have a serious edge on the ghosts: they were going to discover the key to keeping it.
And better yet? The boy continued to impress. To grow. To evolve .
This really was going to be ever so much fun.
Both he and the woman had a lot to play with here. At which point was Phantom most susceptible to the artificial Obsession? And just how susceptible were we talking here? Did his emotions have a part to play? Did what he was have any bearing on his behavior? How would it differ if Phantom were a true denizen of the Ghost Zone?
And that data there. At the end of the reading. That implied Phantom somehow fought off the compulsion, and wasn't that an interesting bit of rawhide to chew on?
The woman was thinking very well along the same lines. Her full, painted lips drew up into a smile, and she looked up from his phone. She was, maybe, starting to believe that her toy wasn't so broken after all.
"You played your part well, Operative V," Kyle Lucas said. Because it did need to be said. She'd knocked the boy off guard, gotten under his skin. And better yet: judging by some of the data, they both suspected she'd at least succeeded in getting into his head, making the compulsion all that much easier to lock into place. It didn't work quite the way they expected—and they would delight in discovering exactly why that was—but they were onto something, and that was very exciting. "Truly."
Verity Vu leaned forward onto her elbows and placed her chin on gracefully folded fingers. Eagerness and ambition had long since replaced whatever irritation she'd stormed in with. "Well, then, dare I ask what's next?"
Operative L grinned.
Friendly reminder! This fic is titled "Shift." Largely, and most obviously, it was titled that because of the Shift, the event I created to drive this post-reveal plot forward. Less obviously, it was also titled "Shift" because this fic is meant to serve as a detailed depiction of Danny's transition between "Year/Season 1," during which he learned to be Phantom alone with Jazz, and "Year/Season 2," during which we would indeed see a lot more of Operative L as Danny's Main Antagonist. And that, I'm afraid to say, is material for a sequel I probably will not be writing. I apologize if this disappoints anyone. I wrote this interlude specifically to tease the imagination and leave everyone with a greater sense of potential for this world I built (as well as iron out any confusion that may remain after the last chapter, of course). I love it when other writers do that to me, honestly, so though you may not agree, I hope it is enough.
Anyway, don't be sad! This is not the end! Not yet, anyway. ;)
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Oz out.
EDIT: PLEASE NOTE THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER I AM SO SORRY I MADE A MISTAKE AND I SEE HOW THIS MESSAGE CAN BE CONSTRUED AS MY SEND OFF BUT REST ASSURED IT IS NOT. MORE TO COME.
LOVE YOU GUYS.
