CHAPTER 19: GOD EAT GOD, PART 3
For many years of his life, Danny Fenton has lived a privileged life of wealth, fame, and status, all coming with the status of being the world's first and only superhero.
Beginning from humble roots from innocent tomfoolery with experimental technology developed by his parents meant to breach and explore the unknown reaches of the fabric of the cosmos, to battling against hordes of the undead on Earth, the name of Danny Phantom has become known in every household on the planet, becoming the one and only face and name associated with the afterlife.
The position he had soon received is not too different from that of a god, the only difference being that no one can doubt his existence. However, with definite proof of the afterlife found at last, this discovery has led to a complete rejection of religion from society; an iconoclast the likes of which the world had never before known.
But where the rest of the world moved to become more modern, those not ready to relinquish their beliefs decided to resort to being postmodern.
Making reconstructions of Fenton Works technology, whether crudely by small niche groups or professionally funded by entire governments, the people who still clung to their religions sought to incarnate their gods on Earth, making their beings of worship real and believable at last.
Danny Fenton has been witness to the more professional and high-end attempts created by theocratic states meant to create their own equal fighter similar to his ghost half of Danny Phantom, but never before now has he seen the poorer attempts at achieving such goals, nor any with goals as short-sighted as expanding their congregations on a smaller scale.
Furthermore, he has never been without his ghost half for such an extended period of time, much less been away from any support that may give him assistance. Any assistance that could have been provided through his family is gone with their deaths, and any fight he could make on his own is nonexistent without his ghost half to become Danny Phantom.
Just as he has been spectator to the sights he has seen in Old Amity Park thus far, he is once again but a spectator to the fight that currently lays before him, set between the warring religious factions of the Christofascists and the I.A.D.L. (Israeli-American Defense League) for greater influence and dominance of their own religious to impose upon others.
Even in the future, there is still one form of battle that is as immortal as the gods each side claim is true:
The holy war.
[Soundtrack Cue: Megadeth - Holy Wars... The Punishment Due]
Rushing in fully armed in a blitzkrieg attack, the I.A.D.L. fired on the unsuspecting Christofascists, downing several enemy soldiers with a simple bum-rush. Advancing straight into the lair of the Christofascists, they are proven to be fighters well worth their weight in gold, and most of their weight consisting of ectoplasmic blasts sent flying in all directions and into any and all enemy targets.
Just as the I.A.D.L. were well-armed and experienced fighters, however, their chosen targets of the Christofascists still held their own military might; a fact showcased throughout most of their reign in Old Amity Park, and a fact that they aimed to demonstrate by defending their home.
Grabbing ectoplasmic rifles and guns of all varieties, tossing them out to anyone not aligned with the I.A.D.L., the Christofascists began to fire back at the invading force, fighting to defend their own territory. The resulting clash of the two armies is nothing short of a complete state of chaos; an orgy of violence and hate expressed through cold gun metal and artificial hellfire.
Bodies move, bodies fight, bodies fall, and bodies die; no one person is spared from the battle nor its effects. The two armies suffer their own numbers of losses, but also among the losses are the bystanders and innocents of those made captive by the Christofascists, falling dead from the occasional stray ectoplasmic blast. The scene of violence makes escape impossible, forcing them to stay and watch as the war unfolds.
The modern setting of futuristic guns and developed military tactics would give anyone the impression that the battle that they fight is one justified, made in the name of a good cause fighting for that goal. But the change of attire and weaponry from swords and armor to guns and camouflage do not change the reality of why they fought nor make it any more civilized.
The fact remains the same: One tribe is not the same as the other. They are separate only from what societal construct they have pledged their allegiance to; a construct that does not exist and does not hear or acknowledge their acts of devotion, especially not this act of war.
The context is lost upon Danny Fenton, who only continues to observe from the sidelines. Even without a ghost half in his body, his human half is still very much concerned with safety and self-preservation, leading him to take shelter from the gunfight. Safe from the fight, he can continue to observe it without any personal harm, watching the fight in attempts to understand it.
Human without a soul, he cannot fully comprehend the complex nature and supernature of the holy war going on; all that is to his understanding is that these two sides are fighting and want each other dead. Lacking the understanding of religious belief, his mind functioning only in an animalistic state, he takes no sides in the fight, watching it on with terror, with a degree of pity for the lives lost.
Even if he had the capacity to understand the reasoning for the fight, however, it would probably make little difference to how the fight makes him feel now.
Self-preservation is what keeps him far away from the fight, but it has also led his mind to search the area for some means of escape to be away from the violence completely. Escape routes are calculated in his mind, courses of action run through to find the best possible scenario for escape, but there are none so far that he can see that would give him safety again.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
But out of the corner of his eye, there is something that gives him the idea of a means of putting a stop to the fight. Out of the haze of war and terror, there rested the lone belonging of Deacon Showenhower and the Christofascists that would allow him a chance to ensure himself of his safety.
The Ghost Portal.
Carrying only the most basic of thoughts in his head, he cannot fully grasp the effects of the ghost portal, knowing only of its lethal effects on those that were marched into it at gunpoint, nor could he understand why it held such significance to him upon looking at it.
Underneath his limited understanding, he somehow knows that it is important for him to step inside the portal, and activate it while he stands inside. Even though he has seen firsthand many lives taken as they had been burned alive in the dimensional rift created, he knows that he must do the same.
Walking out in the line of gunfire, he moved past the warring soldiers on through their battlezone, disregarding all around him for the one goal of reaching the Ghost Portal. The animal instincts are at last put aside for a goal, a human thought, guiding him on his path once again.
He still does not fully understand why he moves to reach the portal, nor does he know what will happen to him when he reaches it. Only does he understand that there is a feeling in him that tells him he must reach the portal, and nothing else he can think of comes close to importance in doing it.
Through some miraculous show of events, Danny reached the portal unharmed, not affected at all by the gunfire flying back and forth in the battle he walked between. Paying no more mind to the warzone behind him, he took to the controls of the Ghost Portal, activating it to step inside.
His hands move over the crudely-constructed controls of the machine, typing up the necessary commands to activate the machine. How he types the correct keys are a mystery even to Danny himself; perhaps the act is repeated from a glance at the Christofascists that used it minutes ago, or perhaps it could even be muscle memory from using his own portal at Fenton City once before.
Nonetheless, he successfully managed to activate the portal, giving him what he needed to achieve his goal. As the Ghost Portal began to activate and feed energy to create the interdimensional rift to reach the ghostly unknown, Danny stepped inside the portal, waiting for it to complete its task of reaching the Ghost Zone.
Looking up to the portal, Danny watched as its chevrons began to emit green glows of energy, soon to lead to an opening sideways through spacetime into the brane of reality commonly known to man as the afterlife. The physical and metaphysical details of the dimensional rift and its science are lost on Danny, as are the results of what will follow from the portal's activation...
...but the most basic understanding of Danny Fenton's backstory would give sign that he would gain his powers again, and fight back again.
Once the portal had at last activated, it fed through itself a blast of ectoplasm, washing over the body of Danny Fenton like a baptism of hellfire.
Unlike those who had previously gone into the portal and perished, his body persisted under the distress of the ectoplasm bath; its metaphysical burns only putting superficial harm on Danny Fenton. Nonetheless, the effects of the portal were indeed very painful, and his suffering was just as great as those who stepped through the portal before him.
The pain of the portal brought back a certain trauma instilled in him once before, bringing his mind back to a time when he was in this very same situation, in a time when he was even less aware of the portal and what effects it would have, allowing him to regain memories lost upon him.
He remembered the time when he had first stepped through a Ghost Portal in the basement of his parents' home as a teenager, causing it to permanently alter his body and genetic structure into that of a living ghost, splitting his body and soul into two separate beings that shared a symbiotic relationship:
Danny Fenton, the human boy with family and friends...
...and Danny Phantom, the ghost-hunter ghost superhero.
The familiarity of the life-changing event is fresh in his mind once again, but all similarities end when the Ghost Portal deactivated. No longer having to withstand the maelstrom of artificially induced ectoplasm over his body, Danny Fenton spoke out a personal incantation meant to call upon his powers, believing the process to give him his powers back.
"I'm... going... ghost!" Danny groaned.
Calling out his signature transformative words, he expected a pair of rings to come from his midriff and exchange his mortal form for his immortal one, allowing him to become the world-renowned superhero named Danny Phantom once again, giving him the chance to fight off both armies and find salvation from the madness...
...but, despite giving his signature call, nothing happened.
Unsure of the reason why he had no reaction from his call, Danny repeated it again, putting more emphasis in his voice.
"I'm... going ghost!" Danny shouted.
Once again, nothing came of the beckoning, and still was he left within his mortal body without a sign of achieving his ghost form. The reason had still remained elusive to him, taking precedent even over the surrounding firefight and fatigue in his body after the duress of standing in the Ghost Portal, but soon came to him as more memories began to return to him.
He remembered how Demon Phantom had torn his ghost half from his body and devoured it nearly whole, taking away his soul and the one component needed to become Danny Phantom once again. Lacking in that essential part of his self needed to become the living ghost once again, and having no way to gain that part of him back, there is no way left for Danny to stop the fight.
Giving into the fatigue of the Ghost Portal's painful effects, Danny collapsed to the ground, falling unconscious.
Left with his mind unaware of his current surroundings, the skirmish continued on without Danny's acknowledgement of it, eventually coming to an end, with victory left on the side of the I.A.D.L. and a crushing defeat for the Christofascists. Overwhelmed, undermanned and outgunned, the Christofascists who were fortunate enough to survive surrendered to their victors.
Now left to the mercy of the fundamentalist paramilitary group, the Christofascists' leader, Deacon Showenhower, previously cowering to himself during the entirety of the fight, was brought to the feet of the I.A.D.L.'s leader, putting their own leader at his mercy at the barrel of his gun.
Listening to their Deacon Showenhower speak to the enemy forces, hearing what their own religious leader would soon say, they would soon realize how unfortunate they were, not only to survive the long battle that laid waste to their fellow congregates, but how much of a waste that their own lives were for dedicating themselves to the self-proclaimed holy man.
"Pathetic little goy. Think you could keep inching into our territory and get away with it, Showenhower?" The I.A.D.L. commander asked.
"Wait! No! You've got the wrong guy! I've just been with these people for a few months! I barely know them!" Deacon Showenhower lied.
"Don't play coy with me, you little bastard. You've been forcing plenty of people to follow your false god, stealing them away from the path of the true and righteous god and his chosen people!"
"Please! You can take whatever you want, really! Just don't hurt me! I don't care about this stuff, really! I was just in it to get laid! That's all! I'm a sick man! I just did this to get women!"
Deacon Showenhower's desperate confession brought disgust both to the I.A.D.L. and his own Christofascists, made even more insulting when he resorted to begging for his life. Kneeling down before the commander of the I.A.D.L., he began to plead for his life to be spared in the most demeaning way he could offer himself.
"C'mon, I never wanted to fight anybody. I just talked these idiots into it so I could get laid. I'm a sex addict. If I didn't get these people to throw their women at me, I'd probably just be jerking off in a corner for the rest of my life! I had to lie my ass off and make a bullshit version of Christianity just to get pussy! And I have a small dick. Really, I'm pathetic. I'm not worth killing, sir. Please spare me." Deacon Showenhower begged.
Finding some degree of pity upon Deacon Showenhower, the I.A.D.L. commander lowered his weapon, giving his victim the sign of mercy he wished for.
"Get up." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
"Please, sir. I don't want to die. Please, don't- don't kill me." Deacon Showenhower begged.
"I said, get up! I'm not going to kill you."
Getting on his knees as ordered, Deacon Showenhower continued to show his gratitude towards the commander, bowing before him for his mercy.
"Thank you, sir. You're too kind. Thank you. Thank you so much." Deacon Showenhower said.
"Don't thank me too much. The only option we have for enemies we don't kill is to make them our slaves." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
"I'll be your slave, sir. I'll be your personal servant for as long as you live. I'll do anything you want."
"Good. Because, if you're to be a slave to the I.A.D.L., we need to fulfill the covenant first."
"C-Covenant, sir?"
The I.A.D.L. snapped his fingers and summoned another soldier to him, carrying two belongings pertaining to the so-called 'covenant' which he spoke of. One of the belongings was a surgical tool of ambiguous use, resembling nothing in the modern medical field and more resembling a medival torture device...
...and the other object an explanation for what the tool was: A jar of severed human foreskins.
"Abraham was commanded by god to circumcise all the males in his family, both his sons... and his slaves. It's law for the foreskin to be buried after the ritual, but I've taken the liberty of collecting them from the leaders of heathens like you. After all, it's all ashes to ashes and dust to dust when all is said and done, so I don't think god would mind what really happens to that little piece." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
Obsessed with sex to the point where all survival instincts were overridden by the threat of his genitals being mutilated, Deacon Showenhower began to panic, standing up from his place of begging and attempting to escape by running. His attempts were quickly cut short by two I.A.D.L. soldiers grabbing him and holding him down, forcing him at the mercy of their commander once more.
"W-Wait! No! Not that! Anything but that!" Deacon Showenhower begged.
"Relax. If you're really so obsessed with sex as you say you are, perhaps you would benefit. It is quite effective at curbing unnatural male sex drives to more... manageable levels." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
The I.A.D.L. commander took the mutilation tool in his hand and stepped forward to Deacon Showenhower, whose pants were pulled down by his captors to allow their commander to access the organ to be flayed. Growing more desperate under the imminent mutilation he would soon endure, Deacon Showenhower screamed louder as he felt his reproductive organs grasped by the commander, awaiting the pain to follow.
"Don't worry. If we can endure this for 2,000 years, you can, too." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
Before the commander could place the torture device on the specified organ, it was soon blasted out of his hand, burnt under the heat of ectoplasm shot straight at him. Turning to see who would dare fire upon him during the ritual, he and his soldiers all looked to see a new player in the set, one that sided with neither the I.A.D.L. nor the Christofascists.
Floating in the air before them was a figure strongly resembling Danny Phantom, but clearly not the one and the same individual. Instead, this person resembled that of a feminine version of the superhero, sporting longer hair and bodily curves that made her gender and disassociation with Danny Phantom obvious.
This laid even more confusion to the true Danny Fenton present in the building, vaguely recognizing the figure for himself. Slow are the memories to return to him still, but still does he correctly identify the new ghost before him, gently whispering out her name in surprise.
"Dani..." Danny said.
Having made her dramatic entrance to the Christofascists' lair, Danielle spoke at last, addressing her personal grievances to the I.A.D.L. commander.
"You know, I'm a big supporter of religious beliefs. That's your guaranteed right under the U.S. Constitution. But religious beliefs aren't the same thing as religious practices. That includes genital mutilation of any kind. Maybe it's okay with you guys, but here's the thing... I'm an intactivist." Danielle said.
No longer concerned with the captives taken during their previous battle, the attention of the I.A.D.L. was now placed solely on the new arrival of Danielle Phantom, raising their weapons to the subsisting specter as tensions between the two parties were raised as well.
Raising his pistol to Danielle Phantom, the I.A.D.L. commander ordered the enemy ghost fired on.
"Daughter of Lilith! Kill the succubus!" The I.A.D.L. commander shouted.
[Soundtrack Cue: White Zombie - Blur the Technicolor (Poker From Stud To Strip Mix); Starting from 0:06]
After using their illegal ghost-hunting weaponry on the Christofascists, the I.A.D.L. then pointed their weapons at the intended target the weapons were designed for, aiming them straight for Danielle Phantom. Though not experienced as her genetic originator, Danielle was no pushover in a battle, especially not for I.A.D.L. terrorists firing ectoplasm straight at her.
Flying out of the trajectory of the ectoplasmic blasts, Danielle further showed that she not only held combat experience, but also her own share of wits.
"I was actually born out of a test tube, but I'm really a 12th-generation American if you wanna get specific. Ancestors were known as the Fentonightingales." Danielle quipped.
Dodging away from continued blasts of ectoplasm, Danielle grabbed one I.A.D.L. soldier out of the group, tossing him into his comrades and knocking the lot down.
"Ironically enough, they were witch hunters at one point in Salem. You guys probably would've gotten along just fine." Danielle quipped.
Evading fire once again from the enemy soldiers, Danielle flew past the oncoming shots, moving to a series of crates.
"Then again, you guys are Jewish, so maybe not. People were assholes to Jews back then, too. History's always full of bigoted shitheads."
Picking up one crate from the bunch, she threw it towards the I.A.D.L. soldiers, knocking down more enemies. Choosing to use her physical tactics against the militia, she attacks them without using her ghostly powers, not wishing to inflict any potentially lethal attacks in a show of mercy.
The I.A.D.L., however, were not so merciful as their opponent sought to be. Indoctrinated and fully committed to their religion, they are concerned only with the task of defeating any enemies to their faith, and ensuring that they would never pose as a threat to their beliefs again.
This time, they do not resort to making the attacks themselves. Instead, they let the 'honors' of that front lie in another one of their weapons.
"Release the prophets. It's time we show this poshea yisrael why we're the chosen people of god." The I.A.D.L. commander ordered.
Stepping forward with a Fenton Thermos in his hand, an I.A.D.L. soldier removed the cap from the top, unleashing the ghosts imprisoned within. Just as the Christofascists had their own ghost created to fight on their behalf, the I.A.D.L. showed themselves to have not one, not two, not even three, but four ghosts set upon Danielle to fight, each taking the form of biblical angels.
The four angels went by the names of the archangels within Judaist mythology, Raphael, Uriel, Gabriel, and Michael, each appearing in the form of stereotypical angels found in paintings and other forms of art, dressed in white robes with halos and white swan-like wings. None were distinguishable from one another, as all shared the exact same face and look, just as usually depicted in Christian art.
The supposed holy images of the angels nor their inability to be differentiated were not the most significant image in the eyes of Danielle; the image privileged enough to warrant her attention belonged to the weapons of the angels, their weapons of choice being long medieval broadswords emitting flames out of their blades, all of which were pointed straight at her.
As the swords kept their aim at her, the angels holding the swords also charged forward to attack her with them.
"Easy, guys. There's plenty of me to go 'round, but even I can only take on so many at a time." Danielle joked.
In response, Danielle chose to fly straight back at the angels, firing out ectoplasmic energy blasts from her hands to disperse the incoming enemies. The blasts fired out converged to one specific point in the middle of all the enemy ghosts, exploding upon impact and successfully separating the ghosts from one another, allowing Danielle to fight them one-on-one at her convenience.
Spreading apart the group to fight each member individually, she selected the first angel in her path to fight, charging up her fists with an ectoplasmic glow.
"But don't let that discourage you. I'm a tough girl. I can take it if it gets rough!" Danielle shouted.
Blasting away the sword out from the hand of the angel, Danielle followed by throwing punches to his face, drawing out pained groans from the ghost as it received its counterattack. The angel attempted to retaliate by striking its own hands at her in response, but Danielle's long life spent on the streets showed her fighting abilities were superior to the ghost's, showing her to be the clear winner in moments to come.
However, that victory was cut short by the rest of the angels regrouping with a coordinated attack aimed straight for Danielle. With their one comrade injured and out of the fight, the three remaining ghosts made the most of themselves to compensate; two took hold of Danielle by the arms, and the third readied his sword, preparing to drive it into her astral body.
"Hey, wait! We didn't establish a safeword yet." Danielle protested.
She then raised her arms to the faces of the angels, hitting them with her elbows, then subsequently her fists.
"Mine's 'mashed potatoes'." Danielle joked.
Raising her hands up to the incoming angel with the sword, Danielle let loose a flow of projected hellfire from her hands, sending the driving the incoming ghost back and no longer heading towards her as an imminent threat. Free at last, she flew down and swooped towards the living spectators of the fight, putting her attention towards one of the I.A.D.L. soldiers for an item which would see the ghosts defeated.
Her target was the soldier who had released the angels to fight, and the object she aimed for was the tool that held them in the first place: The Fenton Thermos.
"Excuse me. I need this." Danielle said.
Flying to the soldier holding the thermos, she swiped it from his hands in one fell swoop, snatching it out of his hands. Successfully capturing the instrument needed to put a stop to the threat of the four angel ghosts, Danielle then turned her attention back to the aforementioned threat, finding the entire group converging on her once again in a more concerted attack effort.
Unlike their previous error of attacking her all in one group, however, they made sure to avoid the mistake by splitting into separate targets to attack. Dividing themselves into individual fighters, the ghosts maintained a healthy distance away from Danielle, keeping themselves in motion in preparation for any attack from her.
Keeping her hands tight on the Fenton Thermos, Danielle paid no mind to their tactics, keeping her mind solely focused on her own.
The first ghost had come to Danielle at last, holding up a sword with the intent to slash at her with it. Not allowing the angel to make his kill, Danielle held out a hand to shoot the ghost in the face, preventing him from making his attack land. Following up with her defense, she then turned the Fenton Thermos towards him and opened it, firing a tractor beam of energy that subsequently drew the ghost inside it.
Trapping the ghost inside the pocket-size pocket dimension, Danielle turned to find another of the angels attacking, bringing the need for defense to come again. Having her hands occupied with the Fenton Thermos, she instead threw a kick to the ghost's face, knocking him back and left vulnerable for her to trap him alongside his already captured comrade.
Opening the Fenton Thermos towards the stunned, Danielle trapped him inside the Fenton Thermos as well, eliminating half the fighters in seconds.
Having efforts concentrated down to only two fighters, the two remaining angels no longer stuck to their original strategy, but instead flew towards Danielle to fight her at the same time; one taking her front, and one behind her, giving her two different targets to attempt to fight off on opposite fronts.
Ducking and dodging away from sword slashes, Danielle caused the two enemies instead to collide with one another; their swords impacting on the other and pushing both enemies off of her fronts. Now having both of her remaining targets in a fighting length, Danielle took full advantage of this by aiming her Fenton Thermos forwards, trapping the ghost before her inside...
[Soundtrack Cue End]
...and, aiming the Fenton Thermos over her shoulder next, trapped the ghost behind her inside it as well. Successfully defeating all of the angels let loose by the I.A.D.L., Danielle turned her attention to the aforementioned solders, raising her ectoplasmically-charged fists once again.
Rather than further provoke the wrath of the spiritual being who had defeated their own weaponized spiritual beings, the I.A.D.L. decided to lay down their weapons and bow in surrender, putting a stop to all violence in the building, and moving the victory to the new, third party which claimed dominion over the souls present.
But Danielle Phantom is no religious leader, carrying different beliefs and motives for herself and the people of Old Amity Park. It is those motivations and her personal credo that she takes the opportunity not to convert or enslave the defeated group at her feet, but instead to educate them.
Flying to those who laid before her in surrender, Danielle selected Deacon Showenhower and the I.A.D.L. commander, dragging them out for a personal lecture.
"Look at you guys. People are suffering enough in this place, and all you can do is take advantage of that to make your own private armies for who knows what you wanna do. Freakshow, you're probably the worst offender of this. The other guy might actually believe in what he does, but what you're doing is downright exploitation." Danielle said.
"I... I just didn't know what to do. After the asteroid passed us and everyone finally knew about the Ghost Zone, no one cared about the Circus Gothica anymore. Everyone left me, even Lydia. I always had a problem with sex. It was easy to hide away when I had Lydia since... well... she would do anything I said. I had someone to take care of it. But ever since she left, I've had no way of getting a good orgasm. So I found a way through this." Deacon Showenhower said.
"So, in order to fill your little problem, you had to brainwash people to follow your lies so you could get some tail."
"I didn't know what else to do, okay?! I'm a retired, bald circus freak with nothing else to himself! What was I supposed to do?"
"Get help, get some friends, get a life. Same as everyone else would do. They sure as hell wouldn't make a whole cult around themselves just to prop themselves up."
"But I needed it. Not just the sex, but I needed the applause. I needed the attention. I needed the love, like I used to get. Like I had before."
"There always comes a time for the show to end. Yours came long ago. But you just had to try to take the spotlight one more time, no matter what it took. You should be ashamed of yourself. In fact, all of you should be ashamed of yourself for following him. The man literally took your wives and girlfriends and siblings just for him to get laid. At no point did you ever think that there was something wrong here? And for the women that actually went for him, don't you have any respect for yourselves? You've got families of your own, and you throw all that away for a guy that claims he can save you from something that's not there?"
Danielle's harsh critiques of Deacon Showenhower and his followers inflicted a great deal of shame on the group, causing them to lower their heads in a state of pure emotional defeat. From the lies of the Deacon himself to all of his flock who followed him blindly, no burden of emotion is too great for their shortcomings.
Having made her point with the one religious group, Danielle then moved on to the I.A.D.L. commander and his troop.
"And what makes you any better than them? I don't doubt that you actually believe in your own religion, but these people did the same things as you, and based it all on a lie. The outcomes of what you do is still the same, and does the same harm. Is it really so better when you do it because you believe in it?" Danielle asked.
"Yes." The I.A.D.L. commander said.
"And how so? Because you somehow think you just so happened to be born into the right religion at the right time, and you were so certain it was the right one?"
"We are the chosen people of god. That is what I know in my heart. We have suffered persecution since the beginning of time, and we will continue to suffer it until the end of time until we fight back and take control, where we will no longer be persecuted for who we are again. From the Dark Ages to the Third Reich and to this day, we have been accused of running the world and stacking the odds in our favor. All we wanted to do was survive. If we're going to be accused of such things, then we might as well do them, and ensure that we will no longer suffer anything like the 6 million of us who died will again."
"You won that fight already. Hitler's dead, and Nazism's not coming back that strong anytime soon. No one's going to forget the people who died, either. But you're not the only one who's been persecuted for what they believed. You'd be hard-pressed to find a person or group of people that wasn't persecuted at some point in history. You don't meet persecution with persecution. You end the cycle, and you try to make something better for everyone. The Nazis themselves cried persecution, and that's what led to that tragedy in the first place. If you just go killing or enslaving anyone you see fit, then you're no better than the people who did kill those poor 6 million... and you're a disgrace to those same people who died."
Unlike the Christofascists, the I.A.D.L. is not so easy to take their criticism, nor show their reaction to it as strongly. The responses given by the Judaist militia are but hard stares and scowls, with the occasional glace to the side or aversion of eye contact with Danielle.
Though both sides suffered great losses and defeats, but no losses were as great as the personal attacks on their faiths, placing a bludgeoning blow onto their collective minds and beliefs from the harsh treatments given to them. It is not obvious whether or not the words shared by Danielle will have any effect on changing their minds as a whole or lead them to a more righteous path...
...but she still hopes for the best nonetheless, trying to stay to an optimistic state of mind in a time when optimism has long fallen out of season. These final thoughts and conclusions are still in her mind as she left the fight behind, allowing the Ecto Corps to arrive later and see to the mess she made of the would-be holy war.
Her departure, however, is cut short when a familiar voice spoke out her name.
"Dani..." Danny groaned.
It is not the utterance of her name which makes her stop dead in her tracks, but it is the voice itself which speaks it out. She knows the person who owns the voice, and her own connection with that person is a complex one that she cannot fully come to peace with, as he is her genetic template and the reason for her very existence; the only reason why she is alive in the first place.
Turning to the voice with a look of surprise on her face, she finds Danny Fenton, but not as she suspected. Rather than appearing to her in ghost form, instead in tattered and torn clothing, she knows that there is something wrong with him, and that there is a reason behind his being in Old Amity Park, where he has never visited before for many years since the Ghost Zone was made known to man.
But all of these facts are overridden by her own conflicted feelings and anger, leading her to look back to the desperate eyes of Danny Fenton with a scowl.
"Danny." Danielle said.