Disclaimer: I still don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does, and I somehow doubt that will be changing any time soon. Since I'm not making any money from this, there is nothing for the law-ninjas to sue out of me.
Author's Note: WHOA! One-week turnaround time on this one! ... Probably a good thing, since this week is largely going to be spent on website stuff and I don't think I'll have time to write over the weekend.
Chapter Five: Logic, Void, and Death
"No more hope of freedom
Our dreams are washed away
The second age is coming
It's the dawn of a new day
Judgement stands before us
The second king will rise"
-"Revelations" - Dragonforce
...crack...
"So what I'm saying is maybe he's not going to be a threat to anybody anymore." Tucker concluded.
Danny and Sam exchanged doubtful looks. The two ghosts still didn't know that the royal geek was in routine communication with Dan; nor did they know that Vlad was also in regular contact with the fire-headed spook.
"We've got ten years of proof he's going to try and blow everything to bits!" Sam countered. "So what, nobody's seen him for a month or so now? That doesn't mean a thing; Valerie went for a few years without seeing him, remember?"
"Sam's got a point, Tuck." Danny agreed. "Just because nothing's happened yet doesn't mean it's not going to happen."
Tucker gave an exasperated sigh. Of course he'd been trying to plant the idea that maybe they didn't need to worry about Dan anymore. He wasn't about to suggest they try giving him a chance, let alone forgiving the fire-headed ghost. Tucker's own opinion of the ghost may have improved, but not even he was quite magnanimous enough to forgive Dan for all his terrible deeds. Dan had ruthlessly murdered Danny after all, even if it could be interpreted as some sort of self-inflicted injury due to Dan's... complicated... nature.
"Well..." Tucker racked his brain for a response that wouldn't involve revealing he had been talking to the ghost. "I dunno, when nobody would see him around, wasn't it usually because he got his butt kicked and had to recover first?"
"I guess so..." Danny shrugged, glancing at Sam.
"Yeah..." The goth's expression was dark; Tucker had a feeling he was already on thin ice with his friends about the subject.
"Well, from what we know, his last fight was about a year ago... or ten years ago? Stupid time travel!" Tucker complained rhetorically. "Point is, he had to have recovered already or he couldn't have gotten away from that Fenton Thermos. So we can probably assume he's not recovering from injuries."
"Mmhm." Sam had her arms crossed, and Tucker recognized the stubborn expression on her face.
"I guess." Danny agreed, his own face registering doubt.
"Well if he doesn't need to rest up, what's he waiting for then?" Tucker concluded.
The couple in front of him looked at one another in thought. Unfortunately for Tucker, Sam had a counter to his argument.
"We don't know that for sure." The goth ghost countered. "Maybe it took a lot of power to bust out of that thermos?"
Except he's been out of the thermos for six months already. Tucker mentally retorted. And busting out of the Fenton Thermos didn't take anything out of him anyway.
Of course, revealing that information would reveal that the geek ghost had been in contact with Dan. Tucker knew he was doing the right thing, but he also strongly suspected that his friends would not see it that way. Sam especially, she harbored a dislike for Dan that was second perhaps only to Valerie's impressive loathing of the ghost. Tucker fully intended to come clean to the pair eventually, but not until he was sure they wouldn't flip on him about it.
Which meant proving that Dan wasn't going to appear and blast them all to smithereens.
An effort that had, so far, been utterly futile.
...crack...
---
"What is that fruit loop thinking, saying Brett Favre should have retired-?" Dan complained to no one in particular, the ghost passing aimlessly through a field of debris in the Ghost Zone.
He would never have dreamed it, but he had just spent the better part of a day at Vlad's mansion. They'd been watching a football game, the Packers were playing of course; and they had spent the better part of the game trading insults and arguing about the various strategies and players on the team. Dan's dignity had excluded him from wearing the proper cheesehead regalia, of course; however Vlad didn't share that restriction and had been proudly displaying his affiliation.
Dan had been certain to insult the older man's apparent lack of dignity and gaudy attire at every available opportunity.
It wasn't exactly a friendship. Dan would never call Vlad a friend, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Indeed, friends didn't take every opportunity to insult the intelligence of one another; and though Dan was loathe to admit it even to himself, Vlad was every bit as good at it as he was and perhaps slightly better.
It wasn't even a rivalry, there was little for them to compete over. It was simple fact that Dan was more powerful; while Vlad was more wealthy and perhaps more clever. The ghost had no aspirations to financial wealth; the billionaire had shown no interest in acquiring power beyond what he had via his business empire.
No, if anything it was a strange sort of rapport between two ex-villains. They had a little in common for obvious reasons; the same reason Dan had certain things in common with Danny. It wasn't friendly, indeed it was often barely civil; but it was honest. There was no pretending; Vlad had accepted Dan's presence but never pretended that it was truly welcome, Dan had accepted Vlad's scant hospitality but never pretended to truly appreciate it.
...crack...
Dan paused, surveying his surroundings. He wasn't sure why, but that one spot in the Ghost Zone seemed to always draw his attention. He knew what the debris used to be; after all, he'd been the one to lay waste to Pariah's grand fortress and leave indeterminate rubble it his wake. It just seemed something in that region was always pricking at his awareness.
...crack...
There was always some noise in that area; Dan chalked it up to colliding debris. There was an unusual rhythm to it however, a rhythm that the ghost had only just realized. The Ghost Zone was known for inexplainable oddities, but for some reason the steady clack of something against something else was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Well, as much as white flame could stand on end, at any rate.
CRACK!
And then, reality shattered.
---
Valerie's head shot up, her lunch momentarily forgotten. What was that? She could have sworn she had heard a gunshot outside.
"What's up, Commander?" One of the other Patrol members sharing the cafeteria with the huntress glanced over, having noticed her jolt.
"Did you hear something?" Valerie frowned.
"Hear something?" The young man raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know." The huntress admitted after a moment. "I thought... I could swear it sounded like a gunshot."
The Patroler shook his head. "I didn't hear anything. You're sure you didn't imagine it?"
"I'm pretty sure." Valerie frowned, munching her salad in thought. "I know I'm not slated for the afternoon patrol, but I think I'm gonna do a long-range sweep of the Far Outlands after lunch. Call it a hunch, I guess."
"Uh... okay."
It can't be Phantom. Valerie mused sourly to herself. If it was him, it wouldn't be a single gunshot, it'd be a ground-shaking explosion. There wouldn't be any doubt then. What was that-?
She hurried to finish the rest of her salad, hardly tasting it. Valerie's nerves had grated raw over the past few weeks, the tension aroused by Phantom's return only worsened as the ghost failed to make an encore appearance. She tried not to take it out on the Patrol under her command, with only some success as she pushed the force harder than she had since the siege years ago.
Still, perhaps a long flight would help her relax, even if only a little. Valerie did derive an awful lot of enjoyment out of patrol, out of flying across the city on her jet sled. A long-range sweep would keep her out and busy the rest of the day, easily. Perhaps well into the night if she wanted; unlike many of her fellow Patrol members, the huntress was perfectly at home roughing it out in the wastelands. She'd had to learn to be, after all; when Phantom destroyed the ghost shield in his final and most lethal rampage, her very survival had hinged on being able to eke out an existence in the ruins without any help or any hope of aid.
To be honest, sometimes she felt more comfortable out there than secure in her apartment at headquarters.
---
Dan shielded himself against the shockwave instinctively, though the blast wave flung him back several dozen feet. The boulders nearest the blast were vaporized in an instant; those further away were sent flying, resuming their journey started by Dan's own blast that destroyed the Keep years ago.
Great. Dan complained to himself. I wonder which of my old acquaintances is going to try and kill me now.
No further attack seemed to be immediately forthcoming, so the ghost dispelled the barrier and got a good look at what had caused the explosion. Red eyes widened in shock and he immediately dropped into a defensive crouch.
Dan was surrounded on all sides by a veritable army of veiled ghosts.
His first instinct was to launch the first attack and clear a path through the surrounding ghosts. One doesn't get surrounded for any nice reason, after all. Then again, he was trying not to give anyone a reason to think he was the same old psychopath he'd been for the past decade. What if these ghosts were some of the scouts Tucker had mentioned?
"Who are you?" Dan hissed through clenched teeth.
"Kill..." One of the ghosts in the mob mumbled. "Kill..."
Clearly, we have a failure to communicate. Dan noted dryly.
"For the king." One of the others picked up the chant. "Kill for the King!"
That seemed to spur the mob into action as they moved in on Dan, drawing weapons. Each ghost was wearing a loose robe and a veil that obscured their faces; Dan suspected they were generic skeleton ghosts beneath the veils. Still, they were clearly unfriendly; nor did he know who exactly they were.
Dan evaded the first swing of a sickly green saber easily, ectoplasmic energy swirling around his clenched fists.
"Well, now that it's merely self-defense instead of unchecked rampage..." Dan growled, opening one hand to form the green energy into a compact ball. "... I'll have to kill you all now!"
Admittedly, the fire-headed ghost was looking forward to the prospect of a safe target to take some violence out on. The past several weeks had been trying on his fragile patience, to say the least. Laying flaming waste to a horde of mindless drones seemed to be the perfect outlet.
The first blast cleaved clear through the mob, revealing the black and green sky of the Ghost Zone beyond it. Dan immediately dove for the opening before the mob could close in, blasts from both hands sending massive explosions through the ranks to his right and left. Like the skeletal minions of Pariah Dark, these veiled ghosts were exceedingly weak, crumpling before his strength.
"You know, if you're going to pick a fight with me, you should know that it's impossible to win!" Dan sneered, spinning around and charging a giant green blast in both hands.
Had it been a few years ago, Dan would have used such a blast to detonate an entire city block; perhaps an area a few miles in diameter. The explosion certainly brought back recollections of the ghost's final rampage in the city after his Ghostly Wail had destroyed that stupid shield. Skeletons went flying in all directions, the green shockwave ripping across the mass of ghosts.
Where did they all come from? Dan wondered, putting some more distance between himself and the mob to get an idea of what he was up against.
It was clear now these ghosts couldn't have been scouts from the Mattingly castle; no one would send an army on a simple scouting mission. Tucker may have had a flair for overkill, but Dan was pretty confident that the royal geek wasn't that big an idiot. They couldn't have been remnants of Pariah's army; those had been simple skeletons, with the occasional sword or helmet; these were all clad in matching dark red robes and black veils with some sort of four-horned crest sewn into them.
And who is this "King" they're killing for, anyway? Dan duplicated himself to dodge another attack, both selves strafing the mob with powerful blasts.
A third duplicate singled out one of the ghosts, grabbing the veiled spook and hauling it away from the mob while Dan's other two duplicates continued the attack.
"Who's this King you're talking about?" Dan hissed, shaking the ghost by the front of its robes.
"Heehee..." The ghost chuckled in a shrill voice.
"Tell me!" Dan demanded, the statement punctuated by explosions below from his duplicates. "Who is it you useless goons are working for?"
"The King." The ghost whispered reverently. "Our lord and savior, the great one destined to rule all and remake the world in his image-"
"Enough of the pretty language, curse you!" Dan snarled, rapidly losing what patience he had. "Give me a name, you fool! A name!"
The ghost didn't answer, instead laughing in that shrill voice. It was particularly grating laughter with a high pitch that distantly reminded Dan of that lunatic ringmaster Freakshow. That thought displeased Dan, he hadn't thought about that incident in ages. The memory of having been controlled rankled and blew through the tattered remains of his patience.
"Fine, I'll send your king-" Dan sneered, vaporizing the ghost. "-to oblivion after you!"
Something tore through the mob below, cleaving dual silver bands of destruction through the massed ghosts. With unerring precision, the blasts raced toward Dan's two duplicates, destroying anything caught in the blast. He dispelled his copies with barely any time to spare before they would have been struck.
"Is that so?" An unfamiliar, deep voice rumbled from across the battlefield.
---
"Man, it's so frustrating!" Tucker complained, flopping down on his throne with a sigh.
"I take it you haven't had any luck convincing the others that he's no longer a threat to life and limb?" Dora inquired.
"It's always 'He's been doing this for ten years, he's not going to change now!'" Tucker pitched his voice higher in a mockery of Sam. "And there's just no talking to Valerie about it, period. She's convinced Dan's out for blood; hers!"
"Well..." Dora eased herself into her throne next to Tucker. "Can you expect anything else? They haven't talked with him, they have no reason to believe that he has changed from what they know."
"I know." Tucker sighed. "It's just frustrating. I mean, okay, I can see why Danny would be completely unforgiving and all. But the girls are just being stubborn!"
"Perhaps because they love Danny?" Dora pointed out. "Sam is clearly besotted with Danny, after all. I would not be surprised if Valerie harbored similar feelings for him. They don't see Dan as part of what Danny was, they're blinded by their love for Danny; they'll only ever see Dan as Danny's murderer."
"They're clueless." Tucker rolled his eyes. "Sam, I could see. But Val? I dunno."
"Don't forget Valerie also carries a vendetta for the death of her father and comrades as well." Dora paused thoughtfully. "They all have a great many reasons not to forgive Dan for his actions."
"Yeah, I know." Tucker slumped. "But-"
Any further statements were cut off by a distant rumble of thunder, the ground beneath the two ghosts bucking like a frenzied beast. Tucker was thrown from his seat and faceplanted against the stone flooring with a yelp, while Dora remained in her seat by virtue of bracing herself between the armrests. A chorus of startled shouts echoed from the castle's denizens as the shaking intensified and then subsided with an ominous rumble.
"What was that?!" Dora looked around the throne room, her eyes wide.
"Ow..." Tucker picked himself up off the floor. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." Dora confirmed shakily. "That sounded almost like an explosion!"
Tucker stopped at that statement, a look of panic crossing his face. "An explosion- Oh man!"
"You don't think it was-?" Dora didn't have a chance to finish the statement; Tucker was already pelting for the door, transforming as he ran.
"I gotta find out if that was Dan!" He shouted behind him. "I was supposed to meet him later anyway!"
"I'm going too!" Dora was hardly a wingbeat behind the royal geek. "If he's involved, the situation is likely too dangerous to go alone!"
Tucker didn't protest Dora's decision. She was every bit as capable a fighter in dragon form as he was, and probably better; and he had a sinking feeling about whatever had caused such a shockwave to rip through the Ghost Zone. If Dan was involved, it could only mean one thing.
He was destroying something... or someone.
---
Dan drifted back, mouth hanging open as he took in the sight of his new opponent.
"Who... who the heck are you?!" He gaped.
The ghost glowering across the battlefield at Dan could only be described as massive; he towered above the horde of veiled ghosts. The horde, already vastly reduced by Dan's efforts, parted; nearly groveling as their leader passed them. The giant gave off a veritable aura that commanded fear; even Dan with his confidence and massive ego was affected.
At a glance, the ghost appeared to be some sort of barbarian; he was clad in leather armor, with an enameled metal chestplate and spiked shoulder guard; all of it polished to a deep red luster. In the massive right hand was a huge sword easily three times Dan's height; the left hand was protected by an armored gauntlet that Dan suspected was made of gold, though the metal was bright, nearly platinum in color. Somehow the ghost's footsteps sent shockwaves through the immediate area though there was no ground to tread on.
Then Dan looked at his enemy's face.
Stark white, a veritable wall with black markings; baleful red eyes glaring down from above a terrible scowl. That vicious face was framed by a crazed mane of deep red hair, in turn framed by the jet black horns. One pair, large and coiled to either side of the ghost's face; ram horns on a gigantic scale. The other pair, jutting from above his forehead before sweeping back and upward; a cruel parody of a bull.
Dan noticed all this in a second, and it was a good thing; he would have missed the giant spiked mace flying at his head if he had been distracted by the spook. He quickly dove out of the way and countered with a green blast that ripped the weapon from the giant's armored grip.
"I asked a question." Dan snarled, showing his fangs. "I demand an answer!"
"You dare..." The ghost boomed. "You dare to demand anything of your lord and master!"
"Lord and-" Dan stopped and glowered at the ghost. "Yes, I do, because the last time I checked, I don't have any lord or master!"
"Insolent specter!" The ghost closed in on Dan, swinging that sword with far more speed than anything its size had any right to move. "You know not the face of the only one fit to command this world?"
Dan jumped the blade, landing briefly on the flat of the great weapon and blasting the ghost in the face before kicking into the air and out of the way. He rode the blast wave from the resultant explosion-
Except there wasn't an explosion.
"What-?" Dan looked down at his target.
The ghost was grinning, a sinister slash of a smile that cut across his face. His left hand, the one with the gauntlet was held up; the green energy blast held suspended within the cupped fingers.
"This is expected to harm me?" The ghost sneered. "Pathetic."
The ghost's gauntlet gleamed with a silver light, and Dan's blast... vanished. It wasn't dispelled, it was as though it had simply ceased to exist entirely.
"All hail Lord Maghnus!" The cry went up from the horde of veiled ghosts. "Lord of the Dark, great savior of this cursed land!"
Well I suppose that answers my question. Dan quipped to himself.
"Some savior!" Dan taunted. "Obviously you don't know what you're up against!"
"Bah, the same despicable ego as the humans." The ghost hissed, lobbing a red blast the size of a large building at Dan.
Admittedly, even Dan had some trouble dodging that one. He snarled a curse as he got out of the way, the stink of scorched fabric revealing what a close scrape it had been. Any slower, and it wouldn't have just been the end of his cape being fried.
Dan used the cover of the blast to duplicate himself again, three copies turning invisible and moving to flank the huge ghost. The fourth remained visible to distract Maghnus. Somehow the huge ghost could dispel energy attacks with that gauntlet. Clearly then, the best strategy was to make a situation where the ghost couldn't block an attack; and Maghnus couldn't block multiple attacks from various directions with just one arm!
"I think I'm entitled to brag." Dan taunted the ghost, lobbing a green blast the size of a bus at the spook. "After all, I'm the only one in the the entire Ghost Zone that not only defeated, but destroyed the ghost king!"
As expected, Maghnus snatched Dan's blast out of the air with the gauntlet, his stony expression turning darker at that. "The ghost king?"
"Sure, big guy, used to have a castle." Dan sneered. "Crown of Fire, Ring of Ra-"
"THOSE WERE MINE" The ghost boomed, the sheer volume of his voice enough to send Dan backwards in surprise. "He stole them! He betrayed me and took that which is rightfully MINE!"
Did I say something wrong? Dan mused idly as his three copies lined up their blasts. He used the opportunity afforded by Maghnus ranting to aim the fourth and final blast. Surely one of them would strike true, and this little diversion would be over with.
"Here, let me give a little of them back to you then!" Dan quipped, all four of him firing.
Ah, the witty banter! Dan had missed it so. The statement was accurate enough; in his fight with Pariah years ago he had destroyed both the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. In the explosion, the vast store of power contained by the two artifacts had been absorbed by Dan. The result had vastly boosted his power.
"You-!" Maghnus hissed, lashing out with his gauntlet.
A bolt of silver cracked into existence, and struck.
---
Valerie landed her jet sled near the crater, studying the wreckage. Despite her earlier paranoia, she had yet to find anything amiss on her long-range sweep. The wind toyed with her hair; she needed to trim it again.
So far from the city the only sounds were the wind whistling through the ruins and the groaning of concrete and steel slowly settling and shifting. Rarely, ever so rarely, there was the occasional call of a bird. Otherwise, the ruins were silent; a vast graveyard for all the victims Phantom had claimed.
For six months she'd thrown sanity and self-preservation to the wind after the shield fell over a year ago. Insane with grief, she'd dedicated herself obsessively to a single goal; Phantom's destruction. Revenge.
How dare he come back. She growled to herself, unable to defile the silence by giving voice to her thoughts. We were finally able to move on and start over, and he had to come back.
She wandered down the broken roadway, littered with debris. The destroyed remains of FentonWorks had tipped into the street, nearly blocking it up with a heap of twisted metal and shattered brick. The old ops center was a nearly unrecognizable mass of steel; Valerie wondered when exactly the shell of the building had finally fallen over completely.
Probably when Danny, Sam, and Tucker were here. She mused. When Phantom showed up and almost finished me off.
It had been about a year since then, though it felt like it had been ages. That other Danny had won, ten years ago in that other timeline. What had happened to turn Phantom loose again? Had the Fenton Thermos failed, unleashing the ghost on an unsuspecting Amity Park? Was that other Danny still alive?
Why hadn't Clockwork done anything to stop it?
Valerie wasn't sure if she was glad that the ghost hadn't put in a repeat appearance, or if she was annoyed. On the one hand, the New City was intact and everyone in it was currently safe. On the other, there was no way to know when the ghost would resume his attack. Why hadn't he attacked? From what she could tell from their brief encounter in the old cemetery, there was no reason for Phantom to retreat. Paulina had agreed; the ghost had appeared to be in perfect condition. So why had he retreated and gone into hiding?
"Stupid ghost."
---
Dan screamed.
Normally he would have been appalled by his reaction, but he was too busy being in pain to care about appearances. He wasn't quite sure what had happened. One instant Maghnus was surrounded on four sides by huge green energy blasts that were about to tear the giant to bits.
The next instant Maghnus had launched a silver bolt from his gauntlet. The brilliant beam sliced through Dan's blast like a hot knife through butter; except instead of parting the green energy, it made it... disappear.
Dan barely had the chance to get that particular duplicate out of harms' way; the silver beam had caught him in the shoulder and arm. As with the energy blast just prior, anything touched by the silver blast simply... ceased to exist. In other words, that copy just had its left arm sheared clean off.
And blast it all, it hurt.
Dan dispelled that particular copy, though it didn't make the burning agony in his left arm cease. His duplicates were still part of him, however disposable; and a mortal wounding to one was going to leave a mark even after it had disappeared.
He tried to collect his wits enough to have his other two duplicates continue the attack. They flanked Maghnus, laying down a haphazard covering fire of blasts. Some of them did actually hit the giant ghost, however they seemed to do little damage. They didn't even scorch the ghost's red armor.
"Not even the ghost king could stop me!" Maghnus bellowed, lunging at the nearest duplicate.
"Cr-" Dan yowled, his shout interrupted by the armored fist closing around one of his duplicates.
Dan's vision went white and his entire world was briefly consumed with nothing short of pure, complete physical agony. Maghnus had used that strange silver energy weapon on the duplicate, and it had disappeared entirely. Dan thrashed, his other remaining copy vanishing as his concentration shattered. The sensation was astounding; burning, searing pain; stabbing, tearing sensations as if he had been ripped to bits.
Which of course had happened to that duplicate.
I... Dan realized in a barely coherent thought. I can't beat this guy!
That was a concept that would have rankled badly under normal circumstances. He hadn't been so utterly outclassed by anyone in a very long time. Even when he had been beaten by Danny in that other timeline, it wasn't that his other self had been more powerful; that Danny had merely been stubborn and unbelievably lucky.
Dan wasn't thinking about that, however. He was in incredible pain and knew he was on the brink of losing consciousness. Ego had to take the backseat to basic survival for the first time in a long time; and that required him to focus. He couldn't get away by flying; he was too badly maimed. So he had to generate a portal with the remains of his strength and escape to the human world.
"So you destroyed my younger brother." Maghnus boomed, glowering at Dan's crippled form. "Pariah was always insignificant compared to me. And now I shall gladly serve you the very fate you boast of giving him!"
Silver energy glowed around that gauntlet on the giant ghost's arm, the strange weapon aimed right at Dan. In a moment it would fire, and he knew if it hit, his life was over.
"You..." Dan rasped, one fist slowly clenching as he mustered the remains of his strength.
A black bolt of energy lanced out toward Dan, rather than silver. It arced crazily through the air, a beam of pure darkness; death itself. There was a flash of green right before it reached Dan; a bare flicker that was quickly consumed by the fatal blast as though it had never existed. When it was over...
There was nothing left of Dan.
Author's Note: Running like hell! RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE THEY'RE GONNA KILL MEEEEEE! Maybe that's why my muse got me to finish this chapter an entire week sooner than expected; to give me more time to run for my life!
So yes, the plot thickens and we learn it probably wasn't Dan that the Observants were throwing a fit about. Granted, it doesn't look like they need to worry about him anymore anyway. Who is this Maghnus? Besides being Pariah's previously unknown big brother? What's with the funky thing on his arm? What's his deal, anyway? Mwahaha, you'll just have to keep reading to find out, won't you?
So now... virtual financial bribes to my loyal super-cool readers who probably all want to chase me with chainsaws right now: Angelic Kittens, Fulcon, BaronOBeefDip, Selofain, i AM the Random Idiot, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet, Eleirah, Moony's Metamorphmagus, Tie-dyed Trickster, and Sukoru! You guys rock pleasedon'tkillme!