What had the famous poets likened the night sky to? Did the sonnets describe the irony of the dark, heavy blanket that did not warm the earth? Were the stars, infinite in number, holes in this blanket that gave glimpses into the days beyond? What would they show if one could get close enough to see through them?Such thoughts briefly entered Plasmius' mind as she soared above the city, but her focus was not on the stars above, rather the structure directly in front of her.

Amity Park Penitentiary was intimidating enough in the day. Storm clouds seemed to form over the prison before sweeping down into the city. In the night, illuminated by so many search lights, it reminded Plasmius of someone about to tell a scary story with a flashlight held to his or her face, angled in such a way to accentuate the shadows. If this prison could be compared to a story teller's face, the prisoners inside could be as the thoughts inside the head, each more gruesome and terrifying than the last. A shame the most intriguing thought would be liberated from this mind.

Doubt was not something Plasmius allowed to slow her progress. Setbacks with machinery or insufficient data on a target were acceptable (to an extent), but neither of those made the ghost woman second-guess her abilities. This night was different. For the first time in a very, very long time, Plasmius doubted.

She doubted her sanity as of late. Telepathically communicating with the voices in Daniel's head was the first sign that she might be losing it, but the voices had yet to ask her to burn things. Perhaps they were not the result of schizophrenia.

Deciding that she was as sane as could be allowed for one in her position, Plasmius wondered if the voices were sane, if such classifications could be given to voices. Freakshow was a potentially - no, an extremely dangerous man. Hundreds dead and more wounded all by him alone and those voices asked that Plasmius free him from his prison. It was not a strategically sound move, unleashing a volatile unknown into an expertly controlled experiment. It would, however, make Plasmius' research go much more smoothly.

As easily as a shark swims through water, Plasmius passed through the outer wall of the prison and made her way inside. It was unfortunate that her telepathic abilities were limited to communication with Daniel's others. She might have been able to pinpoint Freakshow's location without frugally searching for him. Perhaps she would have even reached him in time.

Fleas! Ticks! Mites! Where had these teeny, tiny creepy crawlies come from? No time for stupid questions, only time to pick them off before they could spread! Mmm. Why did it matter where they came from, they were delicious!

Pale, bony fingers plucked the small creatures from their claimed estate on the black leather vest that hung loosely around Frederick's shoulders. It wasn't until Mr. Showenhower noticed his fingers were actually gold in color and metallic in composition that he stopped to consider the reality of the infestation on his person. With that simple thought, the fleas and ticks and mites vanished. He had been sitting in his prison cell picking imaginary bugs from his body and eating them? How very embarrassing. Interesting, however, that the Reality Gauntlet had chosen to reappear now. Even Mr. Showenhower himself had thought it disappeared when the Guys in White could not locate it on his arm. And yet, it was still there. Quite interesting indeed. If it was still there, then that meant it was still active. If it was still active . . .

Research into the artifact revealed a touch-activated pattern was required to unlock the gauntlet's full power. With only three gems in the combination, Frederick surmised even an idiot could eventually discover the right combination. However, the gems would scatter throughout the infinitude of the Ghost Zone if the correct pattern was not entered the first time; a safeguard to ensure an idiot would not be given the opportunity of eventuality.

Even without the Gems of Life, Form, and Fantasy, the gauntlet could still tap into the vast and potent energies of the power gem. It appeared to also have some reality-warping effects, evidenced by the hallucination at the Terror Tower event and the vision of parasitic infestation only moments ago. Mr. Showenhower thought it strange, but a sensation compelled him to consider the possibility that the gauntlet had drawn attention to itself using the parasites to force him to focus on his fingers, his hand and, subsequently, the gauntlet that encased them. If it wanted him to remember it was there, then it must have had a reason.

A glowing red aura surrounded the gauntlet, and Frederick smiled. Oh yes, it had a very good reason.

Plasmius felt the before she heard the explosion that caused it. Her body was violently jarred from its intangible state and slammed into the wall immediately behind her. The remainder of the building on her level between herself and Freakshow slammed into her, further compressing her body and burying her in a large quantity of debris.

It took only a moment for the ghost woman to regain her bearings and her intangibility. She quickly phased through the now-destroyed prison complex and scanned the remains. Undoubtedly, Freakshow had devised his own escape and, judging by the fact that the explosion was able to affect her while she was intangible, he must have retrieved the Reality Gauntlet somehow. Plasmius noted the skeletons that only seconds previously had provided the framework for several hundred human beings. Such a disregard for human life was . . . satisfying. And better still, Freakshow had escaped before she had a chance to get to him. The mere mention of his betrayal in conversation could have left him as one of those skeletons.

So Frederick Showenhower was free. Now those scheming voices could spin their webs to ensure their escape. All the while, Plasmius was spinning webs within those webs. Every possible option was carefully being considered from the best case scenario to the worst. If these protoconsciousnesses had other plans of their own, they would find those plans thwarted and their own selves subjected to a rather unpleasant existence.

Sam and Tucker watched as Danny Phantom, perhaps humanity's only defense against extinction, rolled off his bed and floated up to the ceiling. In his blatant defiance of gravity, he rolled over so that his feet were planted on the ceiling and ignored his hair as it fell away from his face and dangled down towards the floor. Sir Isaac Newton rolled over in his grave as Phantom began to pace back and forth.

"With so much going on, you'd think there'd be more to . . . do, you know?"

"Yeah, seriously. How do you prepare for something this big?" Tucker scrolled through a web page on Phantom's computer. "Agent X was right; we don't have enough firepower to fight this off. And ninety nine percent of the arms we have are conventional, which makes them completely useless in a fight against ghosts."

"Giving up?" Sam taunted. "Surely the great Tucker Foley has a solution to our problem?"

Tucker rubbed his chin. "We could destroy the Fenton Portal, but I doubt that your dad would like that too much."

"That's considered treason in this household, Tucker." Sam and Tucker laughed. Phantom sighed. "Why do you always think I'm joking when I say things like that?"

"Because this is a family, not a military dictatorship?"

"'Not a military dictatorship', she says," Phantom mumbled.

"I do have a theory. I'd need to run it by your parents, but it might be useful."

Danny looked from Sam to his technologically gifted friend. "Alright, shoot."

"When we first started palling around with you on these . . . adventures, I may have . . . borrowed a scanning device from your parent's lab."

Phantom levitated from the ceiling and rotated his body so that his feet were parallel with the floor. Slowly, he brought the soles of his boots down on the hardwood floor. "You're theorizing your suicide?"

"What? No! What are you-"

"If your plan is to tell my parents that you stole from them, especially one of the few inventions of theirs that doesn't explode after being turned on, they will find you and they will kill you."

"M-my plan isn't to tell them that I, uh, borrowed a piece of equi – ok, on a scale of 'one' to 'serious' . . ."

"Eleven."

Sam took Phantom's hand laced her fingers through his. "Do you think it will be possible to scatter his ashes in cyberspace?"

Tucker crossed his arms. "I've been using the device to study the ghosts you've fought. With the exception of some unique irregularities, every ghost I've been able to get readings on have one thing in common; a weak molecular structure held together by erratic electrical currents."

Phantom floated back up into the air. Sam kept her grip on his hand. From Tucker's position, Sam appeared to be holding a Phantom-shaped balloon. "And how am I supposed to use that to my advantage?"

"You know Venom?"

"Uh, duh? Shadow Phantom, anybody? I think my life is turning into one big copyright infringement."

"Oh yeah," Tucker spun around in Phantom's computer chair. "How did we not think of that at the time?"

"I think the whole thing with Danny being a mindless animal coupled with the fact that we told Danny's secret to a guy who works at Axion Labs – a ghost weapon manufacturer – may have distracted us."

Tucker considered Sam's statement. "I guess. Mr. Falluca's been good about keeping it a secret, though. We made a good choice going to him with it."

"Right, right, great job." Phantom turned invisible and began applauding his friends. "Next time something's wrong with me, you know, like if I sneeze, make sure you go to the highest echelons of the anti-ghost community and tell them who I am-"

"As I was saying," Tucker interrupted, "like Venom, ghosts are vulnerable to sonic attacks. Only with ghosts, the sound waves destabilize the electrical current when they come into contact with ectoplasm, leaving the molecules without a bonding element. Theoretically, if a certain frequency was maintained for an as-of-yet undermined length of time, a ghost's molecules would scatter too far to recover once the bombardment ceased."

"Great, except for one thing. Who do we know is building sonic weapons? The Guys in White are strictly ecto and laser weapons as far as I can tell, and my parents are into more sensory gadgetry and whatnot."

"Your discovery might get the Guys in White working on a sonic weapon," Sam offered.

Tucker straightened himself up. "But do we really want them working on something like that?"

Phantom's expression turned concerned. "What do you mean?"

"You've got two kids running around – the spawn of Phantom – and now the head honcho of the anti-ghost division of the US government knows about it. You pretty much told him you turn into a horrible, evil tyrant in the future, and they already have – or have had – some heavyweights on their side from the Ghost Zone, like the Box Ghost. I don't wanna rain on your already rainy parade, but Mister Agent X might start thinking of you as a liability or a threat that he doesn't need to tolerate instead of an asset that he needs."

"And you don't want to give them another weapon they could use against me, right?"

"Exactly. Up to this point, I've only been analyzing ghosts in order to detect a pattern. Now that I've found that pattern, I need to start analyzing the strength of this electrical field. If I can get a solid analysis on a ghost of considerable strength, I might be able to find out just how powerful a sonic blast we'd need to take it out."

"And that's all well and good, but how do we go about building a sonic weapon?" Sam asked. "We can't just build a sophisticated piece of technology in a bedroom with scraps."

"Leave that to me. Considering the circumstances, I think my parents would be ok with me borrowing one of their weapons."

"Good, we can use it as a framework to build around. Maybe we'll find a way to generate a powerful enough sonic blast without even having to build a gun to do it."

This is bad.

My dear brother, you have a penchant for understatement.

Well that's just stupid. Pens can't chant. They can't even talk.

I will assume that was a miserable attempt at humor; something we have no time for. Plasmius is long overdue for what should have been a simple mission.

Maybe she's waiting for nightfall. That's when all our previous communications have taken place.

True, you may be correct. Perhaps I am overreacting.

Now maybe it is you who has the pendant for understatement?

…

Do you think it's strange that we have not heard from our combined self in Walker's mind for such a long time?

Yes, I do. Perhaps something is interfering with our ability to communicate with it. The Fenton Ghost Portal is still operational, so unless something is disrupting our telepathic energies I see no reason why we would not still be able to reach into the Ghost Zone.

But remember, Daniel got his sonic manipulation powers back. Sonic vibrations carry words when humans speak. Do you think this power can interfere with telepathic waves when we try to use them as a form of communication ourselves?

It does not make sense, but it appears to be the only supposition we have to go on. For the time being, let us assume we cannot contact the one in Walker's mind and focus on Plasmius. We will contact her if she does not attempt to reach us by midnight, agreed?

Agreed. Although I wish we did not have to resort to this underhanded tactic of hiding Daniel's powers from him and using them for our own personal gain. If he ever found out-

He WILL NOT find out ANYTHING! Understand this, brother! And once we are given physical bodies by Plasmius, how could he act against us?

. . . I hope you aren't growing overconfident now that everything is falling into place. It would be a big mistake to underestimate Daniel.

Am I not entitled to some confidence? Everything is going according to plan and I have no reason to suspect any failure in the near future.

I guess so. I would hate to see you in a sour mood if something goes wrong.

Nothing will go wrong. Show some optimism! Soon we shall be free!

Yes, free. Free to another master. Our own bodies, maybe, but not ours to do with as we please. I know things aren't looking too good from where we stand, but we'll be slaves to Plasmius, even with our own bodies.

You are a fool if you think Plasmius will keep her grip on us for long. If what I suspect is true, we will have the complete power of two Daniels at our disposal. Plasmius is growing old and weak. She will not be able to withstand our combined might. Yes, we will go from one prison to another, but that second prison cannot hold us for long. And our freedom . . . our freedom is guaranteed!

Freedom is never guaranteed. There is always a price to pay.


"So did you plan to have this talk now, or is it just good timing?"

"A little of both, I guess."

Reflected sunlight from the shiny metallic surface of Valerie's hover board danced along the roof of the building she floated over. The building held no significance; it was simply the first place Phantom thought of when he had requested the meeting. Phantom watched as little motes of lightsped around in erratic patterns with the slightest waver from Valerie's board. He likened it to a disco ball. "Have you heard anything?"

"About what?"

"You know," Phantom turned his attention back on the armor-clad girl in front of him. "Our, uh, kid?"

Valerie shifted her weight, sending the motes of light into a tizzy. "Oh. I was kinda hoping you had something on that. Not that I haven't thought of looking for him, it's just . . . I wouldn't know where to start."

"I'm sure the Guys in White have briefed you on the visitors we'll be having soon. I doubt there'll be much time to look for him while we're fighting for the survival of our species."

"Our species?"

"Yours! Your species!" Phantom chuckled nervously. "Slip of the tongue, sorry."

"Right." Valerie crossed her arms and looked into the sky. Mid afternoon offered nothing spectacular to see; trails from the fuel burned from aircraft crisscrossed the blue sky. Clouds swirled into occasionally recognizable patterns at an almost agonizingly slow pace. Nothing was discernable at the moment. "Have you ever thought of what we'd do if we got him back? What would happen to us?"

"I guess I never really thought about it that much. I've just wanted to get him back."

Valerie nodded in agreement. "I doubt I'd be able to keep flying around like this. Probably have to forget college too."

"What makes you think I'd let you do it alone? He's my son too." The two teenagers looked at each other, feeling the onslaught of an impossibly powerful awkward moment descend upon them. "Oh God, that sounded really weird."

"Listen to us; we're fourteen and talking about how we're going to have to abandon vigilantism to take care of a parasitic ghost baby."

"You'd be surprised how commonplace this is."

"If there's anyone but us going through it, you're right, I would be surprised."

"Phantom."

"WAH!" Phantom spun around, charging his fists with ectoplasm. The booming voice did not come from the giant robot Phantom thought was the source. Instead, a small, floating metallic sphere hovered in the sky just behind the two children. "Prime?"

"Who's Prime?" Valerie maneuvered her board next to Phantom, her gaze fixed on the floating sphere.

"This is a drone I have commandeered from . . . the Fenton's laboratory. I have repurposed it to communicate with you, so as to avoid suspicion. There's a matter of great urgency I must discuss with you."

"Alone?"

"No, she can stay. This may concern her as well. I have detected three trans-dimensional anomalies over the Pacific Ocean. The energy signatures match similar outputs of energy commonly seen in the Ghost Zone."

"Whoa, wait a second, how do you know about energy outputs in the Ghost Zone?"

Valerie looked from Phantom to the sphere. Her confusion was quickly becoming irritability. "What are you talking about? What energy outputs? And how do I fit into all this?"

"I have tapped into the Guys in White computer database. I have access to all their files regarding the Ghost Zone and its inhabitants."

"Isn't that illegal or something?"

"It is necessary if I am to help you keep your race alive."

Would Optimus Prime tap into a government computer system to retrieve information without consulting the aforementioned government first? That seemed strangely out of character. "Ok, so what about these energy signatures?"

"They indicate that something has opened a portal into the human realm. My scans have revealed an . . . unsettling discovery."

"Show me. I mean, you know, if you can. Do you even have a projector on that-?"

A previously unseen panel slid open on the front of the sphere and a holographic image was displayed, answering Phantom's question. A massive portal to the Ghost Zone hung in the air over the ocean. "Three objects emerged from the portal shortly after it opened. They did not return before it closed." The three objects appeared in the next hologram, and Phantom almost lost his balance – while floating in the sky, no less. The 3D image the drone displayed was hardly just unsettling. It was horrifying. Strange alien ships glided through the air just above the water. They looked massive. "Each vessel is roughly twice the size of a standard aircraft carrier." They were massive.

Not many thoughts could penetrate the wall of shock in Phantom's mind. Oh and crap were two. "Wha-so how do – I mean, they-"

"We must act quickly if we are to prevent the vessels from making landfall. Our time for preparation is short."

"Those things are coming here?!" Valerie shrieked.

Phantom had momentarily forgotten the girl was there. He cringed when her shrill cry of surprise rattled his inner ear. It was enough to shake him back to reality, however, and the ability to speak properly managed to restore itself. "I can try to get some reinforcements-"

"There is no time; we cannot risk harm to any humans or innocent ectosapiens."

"Ecto-who?" Confusion was then trampled underfoot by horror. "Wait, we're taking those things on all by ourselves?!"

"We are the only life forms adequately suited to the task."

"And by that, you mean we'll take longer to get blown up?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Phantom sighed a long, shaky sigh. "Alright then, let's get to it." The drone's panel slid shut and the object sped away, leaving the two teenagers alone once again.

"I'm coming with you." Valerie's assertion was not unexpected.

"No you are not." Phantom's response to her assertion was also anticipated.

"What did that Prime thing mean it concerned me too?"

"Valerie, it concerns everyone; everyone here, in Amity Park, maybe the rest of the world. You've seen the recon footage the Guys in White have, these are just scout ships! If we can't stop them here, then what chance do we have against the rest of the fleet?"

"All the more reason I need to help you!"

Phantom grabbed the girl by her upper arms and held her firmly. Her feet lifted up off her board, which gently floated down to the rooftop. "NO, Valerie, do you understand me? NO! I am not going to let you get killed out there! Prime and me - we don't even know what we're up against!"

"So I'm supposed to believe that you and this Prime guy are gonna do a better job at stopping those giant space ships without my help?"

"Listen to me. If we don't make it, you need to be here to protect the city. If these ships make it through us, then the rest of the world is going to need all the help it can possibly get."

Valerie looked into the ghost boy's eyes, searching for some ulterior motive for his refusal to let her help. She couldn't find a single one. "Oh my God, you're serious, aren't you? You really could die out there?"

"I can't let anything happen to you. I've already lost some good friends, and our son, and if there's even the slightest chance, Val, the slightest chance that we could save him . . . I want him to have a family to come home to."

The Huntress remained silent. Phantom pulled her into a hug that rivaled the strength of one of his father's hugs. He let out a shaky sigh, never loosening his grip. "If I don't come back," Phantom set her down next to her board and floated back, taking in the sight of the young woman for what could have been the last time, "keep them all safe."

And without another word Phantom flew away, leaving a very distraught Valerie Grey and more than a few tears in his wake.

A low hum jarred Walker from his thinking. The ghost looked up and saw his advance scouts had successfully broken through to Earth with pinpoint accuracy. The technology aboard the Atrum Navitas truly was incredible. Walker observed the three vessels move with deliberate slowness towards Amity Park. He hadn't realized he had been grinning, but that grin quickly dissolved. Walker knew that technology might allow the passage of a few ships to Earth, but the generatorcould not sustain a dimensional rift large enough to allow the safe passage of his flagship and the rest of his fleet, and even if he could, the portal would not remain open for long.

"Yes . . . that might work. WULF."

The lupine specter's head perked up when he heard his master's call. Wulf stretched from his position at the base of Walker's massive command chair before clearing the distance from the floor to the seat in a single bound.

"Go to the Fenton residence," Walker spat, his voice conveyed his clear disdain for the Fenton name. "Disable the ecto-filtrator on the Ghost Portal. I believe I have found my doorway to Earth."

Wulf nodded and tore open his own portal to the human realm and leapt through without question. At least, without question at that moment. Once on the other side with the portal closed behind him, Wulf contemplated his orders. He no longer wished to bring harm to Phantom; the boy acted nobly, selflessly protecting others from harm, even those who hated and feared him. Was it fair to destroy the small sphere of comfort he had in this world?

With a sad grunt of resignation, Wulf made his way to the Fenton residence. Life wasn't fair, doubly so for heroes.

"Optimus, I understand you might be the undisputed master of fighting Decepticons and stuff, but these aren't Decepticons. These are ghosts."

Phantom looked up at the Autobot leader, who was slightly hunched over so as to allow his bulky, robot frame to fit inside the old docking warehouse. In between them sat a large makeshift table, onto which Prime was projecting the current location and movements of the three Ghost Zone ships.

"You are right, these targets are inferior to Decepticons."

"How's that?!" Phantom pointed to the lead ship. "How many Decepticons are that big?"

"Plenty. That's hardly the point, Daniel. See here? These ships have no weaponry. They were not meant for combat. Planting the bombs I made and destroying the ships will be relatively simple."

"Simple?! There's gonna be a ton of bad guys waiting to tear us apart once we get on board, which you still haven't explained, by the way."

"Aerial drop from a GIW cargo plane. Of course, your power of intangibility would negate my weight and allow you to carry us aboard, and your power of invisibility would allow us to catch them off guard."

"And I told you, if these guys have a way to see us, we'll be sitting ducks while I'm carrying you from ship to ship! And the plane thing? We could get blasted out of the sky before we're even close enough for the drop!"

"Then what do you suggest?"

That tingly feeling that was now spreading across the back of Phantom's head rarely foreshadowed anything good, but a cheeky grin grew on his face as he pointed to an area on the nearby docks. "I once destroyed this building. Allegedly. Ember did something to me, and I guess I went crazy. Leveled the place with a power blast. I guess they've been in no hurry to rebuild it."

"What does that have to-"

"See how they've arranged the construction materials?"

Optimus zoomed in on the area Phantom was pointing to. Sheets of metal were lying at an angle, propped up against one of the completed walls. "You're suggesting we use this as a ramp?"

"Yeah! If we get enough of a head start, the momentum should carry us up high enough that we could land safely on the closest ship."

"This also means we must allow them to get close to Amity Park. It is possible that they do have a weapon of some kind on board, and can only use it when the city is in range. It also eliminated the possibility of a surprise attack."

"They either shoot us in the plane, shoot us while I'm carrying you, or shoot us when we attack them from below. At least with my way we stand a fighting chance."

Prime shut down the projection from his optics while Phantom reverted back into his human form. ". . . Alright then. We'll catapult ourselves onto the first ship once it comes into range. We'll have to figure out how to proceed from there."

Optimus stood to leave, but saw Danny was rooted to the spot. The two looked at each other for a moment before Optimus realized what the boy was waiting for. "I'm not saying it. If your plan works . . . I'll reconsider."

"Ready to reconsider?" Danny looked from his proposed ramp to Optimus and back again. "Go ahead and lie; tell me this won't work."

"This might work, might being the operative word. With enough speed and given the angle of the ramp, I might just be able to grab onto the side of the closest ship."

"And with some vertical assistance, we'll be on the ship and ready to kick some butt!"

"We won't have much time for kicking butt, Daniel. We need to anchor and set these charges and make for the next vessel and repeat the process. Hopefully the two explosions will be forceful enough to destroy or critically damage the third ship."

"And how are we supposed to survive this?"

A parked car sat several feet behind Prime. He walked over to the vehicle and slid it out of his way with one of his massive feet. "Fly away as fast as you can. Are you ready?"

Danny looked at the ships. It took a few seconds to look at the first one, then the second, and finally the third. He realized it was true; everything was bigger in person. Unless it was smaller in person, but that didn't apply here. "As ready as I'll ever be, boss bot."

"Well then, Autobots, transform and roll out!"

Prime's advanced cybernetic parts began shifting and rearranging. At first, it looked as though the giant robot was having a robo-seizure. As his form contorted to greater extents, one could clearly see that this was not the case. The parts continued to realign and rotate, now with more delicacy and grace than before. Panels slid into place, glass panels swung and spun on hinges, wheels rotated on their axels, and an engine that could put a fighter jet to shame roared to life. Optimus Prime was now a Peterbilt truck.

Phantom's transformation lacked the artistic quality of the Autobot commander, but it made up for it in speed. Somewhere in Prime's incomprehensible post-bot-before-truck form, Danny Fenton had become Danny Phantom. The ghost boy phased into Prime's cab and buckled in. "Let's do this."

Prime revved his engine twice before peeling out of his spot in the middle of the road two blocks away from the ramp. It was more than enough distance for the Autobot to achieve his maximum speed. Phantom grabbed Prime's steering wheel tightly. If his knuckles still had color, they would have turned white. Prime hit the ramp at top speed and rocketed into the air, right into the path of the ship.

"Now, Daniel! Bring us up!"

Snapping out of his trance, Phantom pushed up against the roof of Prime's cab with all his might. Miraculously, the truck continued to travel upwards long after gravity should have taken its toll. The top of the ship came into view, and Phantom almost reverted back to human form out of shock. Below the unlikely pair of heroes was a platform. It resembled the surface of an aircraft carrier, but supersized. Of course, Phantom was hardly shocked by flat surfaces. The occupants of the flat surface shocked him. Monsters the likes of which Phantom had never seen scrambled over each other, baying for . . . something, Phantom didn't know what. Some looked human sized, but the real bruisers made Optimus look like a house cat by comparison.

"Optimus, I think we need to rethink our plan!"

"No time, Daniel. We have a job to do."

Phantom felt Prime begin to transform again and quickly vacated his cab. The still-transforming robot plummeted towards the teeming mass of monsters below, and Phantom, with a startled cry, sped after him.

"Keep your head down, and don't stop swinging until there's nothing left to hit!"

Prime finished transforming faster than Phantom thought he was capable of. The robot's foot – the same one that had gently moved the small car moments ago – connected with the face of what looked like a squid, which was acting as the head of a centaur with scorpion pincers for arms. The beast was easily twice as tall as Optimus, which made little difference when two energy blades cleaved the monster's head from its shoulders. Without missing a beat, he ducked as a tongue from the mouth of half an iguana lashed out at him. It stabbed into a pterodactyl on the other side of Prime, who grabbed the tongue and sliced it in half. He swung the sickly looking appendage around like a hammer toss and slammed the impaled pterodactyl into the lizard's head, killing them both.

Phantom witnessed all of this before realizing he had flown close enough for a mobile carnivorous plant to ensnare him with its vines. Three quick ecto-beams made short work of the vines, but the plant moved forward with surprising speed. More tendrils struck at him, becoming thicker and more resilient as their predecessors were singed.

Use the monsters against each other!

Phantom turned in time to grab the sabre-like fangs of a sabre-toothed tiger. He swung the beast into the gaping maw of the plant monster, which paused to consume the unexpected meal. Phantom took the opportunity to blast a hole through the plant's "body". It seemed to do the trick and the plant toppled over and moved no more.

No time to weep for a fallen enemy was given. There were hundreds of monsters on the ship, and they all wanted a piece of the newcomers. Prime caught the wing of a Pegasus with a snake's head and spun it around into the advancing horde. Monsters went flying away in waves, either dead or seriously wounded. Prime released his living weapon into the face of an advancing tyrannosaurus. The dinosaur went down hard.

"Daniel! We have to arm this bomb and get to the next ship!"

Energy-charged acid splattered against the wings of a very vicious butterfly Phantom had used as a living shield. "No way! These things will eat it!"

"They appear to be much more preoccupied with consuming us! We cannot let these monsters spill into the streets of Amity Park, the death toll could be catastrophic!"

Phantom punched a gorilla with spider legs in its canine face hard enough to push back more advancing monsters. The waves of the horrifying creatures had no visible end in sight. "Throw me the bomb!"

A thud almost knocked Phantom off his feet. He turned in time to see a giant, four-armed newt grab at the space where its head used to be. Prime stood with a foot perched on each of the dead beast's shoulders. The bomb was held in one hand, the newt's head in the other. Prime tossed Phantom the bomb and hurled the newt's head like a soft ball. Several indistinct cries could be heard over the screaming masses. Phantom hit the red button – the only button on the device – and stepped back as it magnetized to the ship's deck. It wasn't going anywhere.

"Got it!"

"Let's move," Optimus grabbed the pincers of a massive praying mantis and snapped them off. He stabbed one of them into the insect's head and used the other to beat back a new monstrosity – neither complete nor composite. It looked like a genuine monster; something conjured up in the nightmare of a child. Tentacles lashed out, each one tipped with a spiky club. A slack jaw riddled with misshapen teeth opened and closed, anticipating its meal. Prime gutted the beast before it could take another step closer. "Sorry, we're not on the menu."

"Oh stop, please, before they die laughing at you," Phantom pleaded. He grabbed Optimus by one of his back panels and hoisted him into the air. The robot was much easier to carry once they were both intangible. The creatures swarmed over them, but the unlikely duo could not be touched. The next ship moved beneath them, getting closer and closer to Amity Park's shore. "Could we just drop the next bomb from up here?"

"It could be intercepted by a creature. We cannot take that chance."

Phantom rolled his eyes. "Typical. I hope you brought a parachute, then."

"I did not."

"Oh. Well look on the bright side…" Phantom released Prime, who then rocketed down toward the second ship. Phantom flew in behind him. "You've been dropped from higher places than that."

"Thankfully, a correct observation. But never do that again." Phantom began to laugh, but a large pterosaur-like creature slammed into Prime, knocking him off course. The ghost boy swerved to follow him.

"Daniel! Take the bomb and go!" Prime wrenched the bomb from its secure spot on his waist and threw it to Phantom before he could object. He caught it – a play for the highlight reel if he survived – and made for the ship below him. He would have worried about Prime, but the sound of burning, rotting flesh and cries of pain told him the Autobot was doing just fine on his own.

The ship was crawling with just as many monsters as the last one. Fortunately for them, the ghost boy was in a hurry. He set the bomb and took off, narrowly evading the limbs and claws of the horde behind him. "Optimus! I set the bomb! We need to get out of here, where are you?!"

There was no answer.

Danny, you must leave immediately! Those bombs will go off in less than thirty seconds!

But Optimus-

Optimus is fine! He can take care of himself!

Against a few dozen circus rejects, yeah, but against two megatons of explosives?

He's fine! You won't be if you don't hightail it out of here right now!

Daniel, MOVE!

GO GO GO!

Angrily, Phantom conceded to the voices in his head and sped away. Optimus did not call out to him, and the ghost boy couldn't see any sign of him; only monsters and giant, alien-looking ghost ships. Phantom was on land and safely away from the ships, which were all still barely a mile from shore, when the bombs went off. He explosions knocked Phantom on his ass, which was nothing compared to what they did to the ships. When the light faded and the smoke had more or less cleared, only one ship remained. It was badly damaged, and Phantom guessed there were no monsters left on its surface. The other two had been vaporized completely by a chemical compound Prime had added to the bombs; it made sure that all the spooks aboard those ships were also disintegrated even if they were smart enough to go intangible. The third ship began to turn lazily. A green spiral opened off to its side and the vessel slowly limped back into the Ghost Zone. The portal closed behind it.

Prime was nowhere to be found. The ghost boy searched for an hour after the ships went down, combing the waters for the red and blue robot. But with no debris to base his search on, there never really was any hope. The remaining ship was not the only thing that returned home defeated that day.

This is unacceptable! How could this have happened?!

HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE STILL HAD THE REALITY GAUNTLET ON HIM?

You couldn't have known. Nobody could have known.

So not only are you a fool, you're a kiss-ass too. Wonderful.

SILENCE. I FAIL TO SEE HOW THIS WILL HAMPER YOUR ORIGINAL PLAN. HE IS SURE TO CAUSE ENOUGH MAYHEM TO PROMPT AN EPISODE IN DANIEL THAT WOULD ALLOW FOR YOUR ESCAPE.

But we cannot be sure that is his intent! Perhaps he has his eyes set on getting vengeance on an unrelated person? Suppose he vanishes! Then what, we rot away in here until all three of us die?

NONE OF YOU SHALL DIE, LEAST OF ALL DANIEL. EVEN IF NOT FOR YOUR SAKE, YOU HAVE MY WORD THAT YOUR DEMISE INSIDE HIS MIND SHALL NOT COME TO PASS.

Then you must go and retrieve Mr. Showenhower!

THE REALITY GAUNTLET MAKES HIM UNDETECTABLE TO ME AND MY AGENTS. THE GAUNTLET ITSELF DOES NOT APPEAR TO EMIT ANY TRACEABLE ENERGY. FINDING HIM, AT THE MOMENT, IS IMPOSSIBLE.

Then we must bide our time, and hope Mr. Showenhower still has business to attend to in Amity Park.

To Be Continued

A/N: I've been working on this one for quite a while. I'd write a chunk here and there and finally, probably Friday, I finished it. Of course, working on one chapter over several months can lead to some continuity issues within the chapter. Thankfully, the incredibly talented Cordria beta reads for me and helps me figure out what mistakes I've made. So props to her as always. Hopefully this makes more sense now.

Also, for those of you who don't visit Deviant Art (and I honestly can't blame you), you may have heard about a very big change to the upcoming Reality Wars bit. For those of you who haven't, I'll bring you up to speed. Why is Optimus in this story? He was originally going to be one of several heroes chosen by Clockwork to help Danny become a better hero so as to defeat Walker and save the world. But as I keep writing him in, I think to myself, God, this sounds really dumb. Just a big old robot driving around with Danny Phantom, using dialogue that could easily come from a friendly Technus. and the more I thought about it, the more I found myself regretting putting him in the story at all. So I decided on a best course of action. It led to an even better decision, which was to completely do away with the massive, nonsensical crossover. Instead, Danny is going to be taken to alternate realities and different times to encounter alternate versions of himself. Imagine, what if Danny was a robot? What if he was an alien? What if Plasmius won? Those are just some of the places I plan on taking you, and I think the other nine will be just as tantalizing. Once I got this idea, it just kept making more and more sense. He learned plenty about himself from The Ultimate Enemy, so why not expand on that idea? Hopefully I can get the drawings I've done of the alternate universe Dannys (Dannies?) soon. I know some of you will be upset by this, others will be overjoyed. But don't worry, I do have an explanation for Optimus.

But before I can get to all of that, I need to finish this arc. The idea I have for the next chapter, I have realized, is dumb. I am attempting to fix it. Hopefully this will tide you over until then.

So many reviews! So many more hits! Seeing the occasional favorite or alert notification in my email always makes me feel better. Thanks to everyone, especially Nyrrari, gadrak-the-forbidden-one, Cordria, darkness over day, Chemical Brain, Obiwan456, MasterFerret1, Gamemaster77, Kiminaru, NinjaSheik, BlackRoseFire, dannyluvr95, Teribane, phooykazooi, Foresaken Beast, xxBakaAkki, and BerserkSlash.

Apparently Tuesday is Australia Day. This isn't a quote, I just looked on a calendar and saw it. I think its funny. Also, Mass Effect 2 comes out Tuesday. Awesome.