"I must say, I'm very impressed that you have the audacity to follow through with this plan. It is foolish, reckless and will fail miserably, but it is still impressive."

Danny Fenton shot a menacing look at the toad-like ghost sitting on the edge of a table in his parents' lab.

"The last thing I need from you is sarcasm, Skulker. Now you're absolutely sure this is going to work?"

Skulker fired a tiny ectoplasmic beam from his index finger, hitting Danny in the neck. "The suit? Yes, for the thousandth time, you will be able to interface with the suit flawlessly. Your plan is what won't work."

"And, for the thousandth time, thank you for the vote of confidence," Danny retorted, rubbing his throat. "It really isn't that hard, if you think about it."

"You're right. Use my suit to fight off the Turpetrator and Desiree and who knows what other ghosts he has working for them, defeat them all and take the sword. It isn't hard at all, if you're trying to get yourself vaporized."

"I never said I was going to steal the sword."

"Then what, pray tell, were you going to do with it?"

Danny's expression was solemn. "Stab the Turpetrator with it."

Skulker looked on in bewilderment. "You're going to stab the Turpetrator with his own sword?"

Danny only nodded as he transformed into Phantom.

"That's suicide! The blade is forged from the very essence of hatred! Stabbing the Ghost of Malevolence himself with it could destroy you both!"

"The blade is tainted," Phantom said in a distant tone. "It doesn't have enough power to do that. If I'm right, stabbing him with the sword will taint it further and diminish his power."

Skulker cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"

"Let's just say I'm well informed," Phantom replied coolly as he turned intangible and entered Skulker's mechanical exo-suit.

The familiar robotic face twitched as Phantom's neural systems interfaced with the suit. Black flames erupted from the top of the steel skull. The eyes glowed the same color, and a small flame burst from the chin.

Phantom looked through his new eyes at a mirror on the far side of the room. "Why all the black?" he asked, only instead of his own voice, Skulker's mechanical one relayed the query.

"Black is your primary color. I assume that's how the flame pattern works."

Phantom looked over his shell in fascination. "I'm having second thoughts about giving it back to you when I return."

"If you return," Skulker corrected in his high pitched voice. "My combat suit wasn't designed to withstand direct attacks from level nine ghosts."

"Level nine?"

"Never mind that. Daniel, this is doomed to failure. I do not doubt your abilities as a combatant, but you are nowhere near powerful enough to lock horns with the Turpetrator. Your odds of survival are astronomically low."

Phantom began slinging various Fenton weapons over his adopted robotic shoulders. "I have to do it. Even if I die, I win."

Skulker floated over to Phantom and hovered in front of his face. "How so?"

"The Turpetrator wants to use my rage so he can kill Plasmius and take over the world. I'm not thrilled about my actions saving Plasmius' life, but there are billions of other lives at stake. And if he becomes as powerful as I think he could, there'd be nothing to stop him from conquering the Ghost Zone too."

Skulker shook his head. "Fourteen years old. Not old enough to operate a motor vehicle, not even through the ninth grade and here you are, willing to sacrifice your life so that others may live. I'll never understand you humans and your courage."

"It isn't courage," Phantom grumbled as he installed twin Fenton Thermoses in his forearms. "It's the right thing to do."

Phantom slammed a fist into the OPEN button on the wall. The yellow and black striped doors slid open revealing the menacing swirling vortex that led to another dimension.

"If you're right," Phantom said as he stared into the abyss, "and I don't make it back, take care of them. Keep them safe."

Phantom activated the thrusters in Skulker's boots. Collapsible wings unfolded and reached out past his shoulders. Thrusters on the wings activated as well and the robotic husk lifted up off the ground. The ghost boy checked the dual wielded ecto-bazookas in his robotic hands before blasting off into the Ghost Zone. The slimy substance that made up the portal shimmered as the ghost boy entered. It quickly settled leaving a very distraught Skulker alone in the Fenton's laboratory.

"I'll do my best," he said sadly. "I'll do my duty."

Prince Aragon stumbled to the ground. His medieval robes dripped with fluids from his containment cell, and more of the stuff was coughed to the floor where it amassed in a puddle. The ghost prince looked at his murky reflection in horror. He was . . . alive.

"What is this," he croaked. His deep, commanding voice had not fully returned. "Where am I?"

"You're in Wisconsin, one of the fifty states within the United States of America."

"I know what Wisconsin is," Aragon snapped, feeling patronized. "And I know who you are."

"Do you now? When I haven't even revealed myself?"

"I know you – your voice, your scent. It still sickens me, the stench of lies and unthinkable atrocities against innocent life."

"Then your own scent should gag you," Plasmius spat. "You, who agreed to further my goals in exchange for nothing more than a free meal."

Aragon stumbled to his feet and looked in the direction of the voice. "I was . . . not myself."

"Indeed? Then why do you wear this Amulet of Aragon if you detest what it makes you become?"

Aragon's eyes widened in horror as the amulet materialized out of thin air before him. His hand instinctively reached for it, but he jumped back as Plasmius appeared in the same manner, her hand grasping the chain that held the Amulet.

"My brother betrayed me." Aragon said absently. "He killed my sister and laid siege to my kingdom before defeating me. Even in my more powerful state, I was unable to defeat him on the physical plane, but he eventually met his demise."

"Hmm," Plasmius looked at her right hand, which was balled into a fist. "And, refresh my memory, what happened after?"

"I was reunited with my kingdom in the Ghost Zone. Using my powers I hunted for my brother while keeping my people safe."

"But your obsession, finding the Knight of Acrimony and slaying him as he had slain you, caused you to abandon your people. They were left to defend themselves against all the horrors the Ghost Zone had to offer. It was nothing short of a miracle that they managed to survive the reign of the Pariah Dark of that era."

"I lost touch with what little humanity I retained. I cast aside my duties as Aragon and gave in to Terrakor."

Plasmius waited for the revived ghost to continue, but he remained silent. "And now?"

"I give up on my hatred towards him. Defeating him will not restore my kingdom, it won't right the wrongs he made and it . . . won't bring back Dorothy." Glowing purple tears trickled down his face.

"You may be right about your kingdom and the justice drivel, but Dora," Plasmius chuckled. "Well," the ghost hybrid pressed a button on a device strapped around her wrist.

A translucent cylindrical containment chamber identical to the one Aragon had been held in slowly rose from the ground. Suspended in the liquid floated the petite form of a young woman, no older than twenty. Her expression was serene, as if she was in a peaceful sleep. The hole in her torso told a different story.

Aragon stumbled over to the tank and leaned up against it. His lip trembled as he looked up at his long-thought deceased younger sister. "H-how did you-"

"My methods of acquisition are my own. She has been in various forms of suspended animation since I found her body. Physically, she has not aged since her death. That is all you need to know."

"But she was slain almost five hundred years ago, how did you-"

"I told you, my methods of acquisition are my own. Now, I'm sure you wish for her to be revived, am I right?"

"Yes! Yes, please! I will do whatever you ask!"

Plasmius strode past the prince. "Your brother was adopted, correct?"

"Y-yes, but what does that have to do with any-"

"You two became close friends, almost like real brothers."

Aragon nodded silently, stunned by Plasmius' knowledge of his former life.

"But he came to you one day, imbued with unimaginable power by unknown means, and offered you the amulet. You two dreamt of conquest, but he wanted to test his powers on your own kingdom. You and your sister opposed him and she paid the ultimate price for her decision. You forfeited your life in combat, leaving the Knight of Acrimony to freely devastate your kingdom."

"How do you know all this," Aragon asked sternly, his voice returning.

"Unbeknownst to you, the Knight of Acrimony was merely an agent of the real threat, the Turpetrator. The Knight's single goal was to grant a mortal enough power to enter the Ghost Zone by sheer force of will. The portal would allow the Knight to enter the spectral realm and awaken his master. Unfortunately for the Turpetrator, the Knight failed."

Plasmius activated a holographic projection which showed Phantom in Skulker's robotic shell preparing to engage ghostly warrior. "The Turpetrator is why your kingdom burned to cinders. He is why your sister hovers between life and death."

Aragon felt a familiar feeling rise in the pit of his stomach. His eyes flashed a brilliant shade of red. "What must I do?"

"Defeat the Turpetrator. Kill him if you so desire, it matters not. I want his sword brought to me, if possible. Preferably intact. The ghost child is using the mechanoid shell. My only condition is that he survives. Ensure his wellbeing and Dora will be restored to life."

Aragon bowed before the vampiric ghost before him. "It will be done."

Plasmius tossed the amulet that she had been holding towards the prince, who deftly caught it. He slipped it over his neck and felt the familiar energy surge through his body. His form contorted, shifted and elongated. Within seconds, Aragon floated before Plasmius in the all-too-familiar form of Terrakor.

"If I am defeated again . . . take care of her. Keep her safe."

Terrakor glanced over at the containment chamber that held his sister. With a low growl, he took off into the active Ghost Portal at the other end of the laboratory.

Plasmius' grinned. "No promises."

"I must thank you, ghost child," the Turpetrator spoke as Desiree and Bertrand appeared on his sides. "You've saved me the trouble of hunting you down."

"I'm the one doing the hunting here," Phantom growled through Skulker's voice modulator. The deep tone was becoming a bit annoying, but at least the Turpetrator was not making fun of him. "And it looks like I found my prey."

"You hunt me? I could crush you under my finger, boy," the warrior throatily laughed from behind his helmet. "But I don't want to kill you yet."

"I know all about your plan to use my anger to defeat Plasmius. Well I've got news for you; that's not going to happen."

Phantom fired twin blasts from the bazookas he had been holding. One blast hit Bertrand square in the face, the other tore into Desiree's shoulder. Having spent all the weapons' energy in the initial blast, he crossed the barrels in front of him, blocking a powerful downward blow from the Turpetrator. His blade bounced off the steel.

Phantom discarded the weapons and activated the chest-mounted zap cannon. A blast of energy lanced forth and pressed into the Turpetrator's stomach. The ghost was hurled back from the electric shock, leaving Phantom time to aim his arm-mounted Fenton Thermoses at Bertrand and Desiree. Bertrand was quickly vacuumed into the device, but Desiree managed to dodge the suctioning power of her designated thermos.

"Foolish boy, I cannot be incapacitated so easily," Desiree hissed as she lobbed ectoplasmic daggers at Phantom.

"I wish I had a sword of pure energy," Phantom shouted as he targeted the still stunned Turpetrator with his auto-firing laser cannons.

Desiree froze and, as if by its own will, her hand rose and twitched. Phantom found himself facing Desiree with the exact item he had requested. The light-blue blade glowed brilliantly in stark contrast to the dull, dimly lit greens of the Ghost Zone.

Phantom fired missiles at Desiree, who nimbly dodged them. Her trajectory led her right into the very blade she had conjured for Phantom. With a quick movement, Desiree's flesh wound was severely worsened. She cried out in pain as Phantom aimed his Fenton Thermos at her.

"My love!" the Turpetrator fired purple beams of energy from his eyes that blasted the thermos from its retractable mechanism. "You shall never harm her again!"

Phantom brought his blade to bear as the elder combatant advanced on him. The ghost boy was thankful for the enhanced strength Skulker's suit had given him, if only to withstand the furious blows of the Turpetrator.

"I will make sure you die painfully and without dignity, vermin!" the Turpetrator bellowed as he pressed his attack harder.

Phantom utilized the suit's sensor array and saw that Desiree was attempting to sneak up behind him. Her good hand had been transformed into a blade of her own. At the last second, Phantom spun out of the way of both his attackers. The Turpetrator's blade sliced through Desiree's like a knife through hot butter. She wailed in agony as globules of deep purple ectoplasmic blood poured from the open wound.

"Looks like I won't have to ever harm her again," Phantom jeered. "Better watch it, wouldn't want to contend with a domestic disturbance report from the neighbors, now would you?"

"I will tear out your heart and devour it before you have a chance to die!"

"Temper, temper! Looks like I'm going to need some help. Desiree, I wish I had another sword, this time made of adamantium and fused with ectoplasm."

The Turpetrator stared at his wife, who was sobbing as her arm involuntarily rose to shoulder level. "What are you doing?" the bulky warrior demanded. "Stop that at once!"

"I-I can't!" the ghost genie cried as the new blade appeared in Phantom's free hand.

Phantom lunged at the Turpetrator, who was momentarily taken aback at his wife's inadvertent betrayal. The strength of Skulker's suit allowed him to drive the Turpetrator back. Phantom knocked his adversary's blade aside long enough to stab his other one deep into the warrior's chest. Blood seeped from the wound and floated around in the gravity-free void.

"You fight well, but for a lost cause," the Turpetrator mused as he examined the hilt of one of Phantom's swords protruding from his body. "No mere sword can extinguish me. I am immortal!"

"I suggest you revise your statement, lest you be discovered a liar."

The Turpetrator gasped as Terrakor vaulted through the Ghost Zone.

Phantom was in a similar state of shock, but came to his senses in time to dodge the dragon. The Turpetrator was not so lucky and was violently slammed into by forty five feet of teeth, claws, scales and fury.

Phantom remembered his other, less dangerous, problem and turned to face Desiree, who had turned her tail into a sword. "Insolent child," Desiree spat.

Phantom used his sword to smack Desiree's own blade aside. And again, as she repeated her attempt to slay him. And again. And again. Phantom brought his zap cannon online and fired a blast that hit Desiree in her already wounded shoulder. She cried out in pain as an electrical current surged through her body.

"You are a vile and disgusting creature," Desiree choked out through muffled sobs.

"Duly noted," Phantom blandly replied as he backhanded the female specter. More blood and spittle filled the air as Desiree spun around from the force of the impact.

Phantom activated the grapple function on the arm that had lost its Fenton Thermos. The robotic hand retracted and was replaced by a four-clawed appendage. Phantom aimed it at Desiree's back and fired. The grapple made contact with her back and the claws snapped shut, two over her shoulders and two under her arms. The serrated edged dug into her flesh and she cried out once again.

"Amity Park, three days after you started your attack, is in total chaos," Phantom said angrily. He swung his grapple arm and slammed Desiree into a nearby floating rock. He held his grip on the ghost and the boulder shattered.

"The National Guard has been fighting alongside the Guys in White nonstop since day one." Phantom charged his free hand with ectoplasm and used the fist to punch Desiree in the face on her backswing. Her head rocked back, spraying more bodily fluids into the air.

"Over twenty people have been killed. More than one hundred have been wounded. Over half the city is without power. Looting and gang violence, almost unheard of before in Amity Park, runs rampant." Phantom blasted off towards a larger boulder and slammed Desiree into the surface. He touched down next to her and pressed one of his robotic boots into the small of her back.

"Mayor Foley has admitted that the city lacks the resources needed to deal with half the problems, and the damage done to the city will put us in debt beyond what could have ever been imagined. It is hypothesized that it would be cheaper to simply tear down the city and rebuild it." Phantom violently yanked the grapple from Desiree's back, tearing out whole chunks of flesh. "And it's all your fault."

The ghost genie's sobs were almost inaudible. "P-please . . . s-s-stop."

Phantom aimed his remaining Fenton Thermos at the back of Desiree's head and activated it. "So you have wished it, so shall it be."

Bertrand had been lying in wait inside the Thermos. When it opened to inhale another occupant, the shape shifting specter made his escape, turning into an invisible and intangible vapor. In his flight, his form passed through that of Desiree's demolecularized body. In the span of less than a tenth of a second, the two had known of the imminent failure of the Turpetrator's plan and had reached a decision. If he survived, there would be one person he would go after. Spectra had to be kept safe, at any cost.

"You cannot be alive!" The Turpetrator bellowed as he sliced at his draconian adversary. "I witnessed your demise at the hands of the ghost boy!"

"I have been restored to exact my revenge. Your minion felled my kingdom and murdered my sister before defeating me."

"He was a fool, failing to perform the simplest of tasks. His death at the hands of the Pariah Spawn took far too long."

"For centuries I believed the Knight to be you. The truth was even more hideous."

"Then you are as much of a fool as he was!"

The Turpetrator tore Phantom's sword from his chest and threw it at Terrakor. Before the adamantium blade could pierce the serpent's heart, a grappling hook snapped it out of the air and drew it back to the mechanical body that Phantom inhabited.

"Not today. Scaly's with me . . . right?" The dragon nodded in confirmation. "Super."

The Turpetrator was quickly out maneuvered. Terrakor loosed balls of fire at the warrior while Phantom flew in close and tried to land another severe blow. Then Phantom fell back, blasting away with whatever weapons Skulker had in his arsenal along with whatever weapons he had brought with him as Terrakor tried to bite, scratch and whack him.

"You fight about as proficiently as your hack of a wife," Phantom taunted as he tried to land a headshot on the warrior. "I guess it's no mystery as to who Spectra inherited her fighting abilities from."

The Turpetrator was jostled from his defense and lunged at Phantom. He swung his blade hard enough to knock the ghost boy off balance. An energy filled punch sent the robot shell hurtling through the air. The Turpetrator spun around and prepared to block an attack by Terrakor, only his Odium Blade sliced through the underside of the dragon's neck and cut deep into the flesh.

Phantom watched as the dragon lost its new lease on life. It soared over his head, the glow slowly leaving its eyes.

Terrakor felt life depart from him as the Turpetrator's blade cut his throat wide open. His vision steadily blurred, but he held on to consciousness like a raft in an endless sea.

I failed you, Dora. I'm so sorry.

And yet, if the ghost child remained safe, there was a chance that Plasmius would follow through on her agreement. The dragon's tail brushed up against something and it quickly wrapped around the object. Repeated slices on his scaled hide revealed it was the Turpetrator. With the last ounces of his incredible strength, Terrakor squeezed on the warrior's wrist. A faint, yet sickening snap reached the serpent's ears and he let death embrace him once again. Third time's a charm . . .

Phantom saw the tail of the large dragon wrap around the Turpetrator's sword arm and squeeze until it snapped. The ghost boy, separated from Skulker's battle suit, flew at the now useless appendage and grabbed the sword from limp fingers. He transformed the moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the Odium Blade and by the time he was holding the weapon firmly, it was Danny Fenton staring the Turpetrator in the face.

It was Danny Fenton who then stabbed the Turpetrator in the chest and watched as the evil purple glow flickered out of the Turpetrator's eyes.

Plasmius watched with satisfaction as Daniel defeated the Turpetrator. The further desecration of his blade, coupled with the severe wounds he had sustained, would keep the meddlesome ghoul out of the picture for a good long while.

The female ghost now directed her attention to Dora Mattingly, sister of Aragon Mattingly. The prince had held up on his end of the bargain, keeping Daniel alive long enough to strike a crippling blow to the Turpetrator. While Plasmius was devious and often double-crossed her cohorts, this was a special case.

From the folds of her cloak, Plasmius withdrew another amulet, almost identical to Aragon's. In some respects, it was. The jewel in Aragon's amulet had been segmented in order to create the duplicate. The amulet's segmentation was what most likely resulted in Terrakor's death, not being at its full strength.

The gem in Plasmius' new amulet, however, was whole. Combined with the regenerative strand of Daniel's DNA, the broken piece of the gem had restored its lost half. Plasmius grinned as she turned her hand intangible and reached into the containment chamber. The amulet was slipped over the young woman's neck and floated aimlessly in the fluid.

A green light shone from the open wound in Dora's chest and it sealed over itself. A dim green glow sparkled behind the young woman's closed eyelids. Utilizing the stolen genetic code from Daniel, Dora had been restored to life.

Plasmius looked on in joy. She had succeeded in finally raising the dead.

To Be Continued

A/N

So, has Plasmius has finally done what she's been trying to do since the beginning of the story? Not quite yet. Will Dora make an appearance before the end of the segment? Possibly. And I forgot I had the Paper Shredder in the next chapter, not this one. And what's the deal with this Pariah Spawn business?

Dance you puppets of varying size and intelligence, dance.

WE TAKIN' OVER