Time stood still in Clockwork's lair. From the largest gear on the outside of his abode to the smallest hand of his last wristwatch, all stood still. Every last tick and tock was silenced. The lone sign of movement from any timepiece was the pendulum within the Master of Time. Slowly it moved, taking several seconds to come way and more seconds to go back.
Clockwork's eyes were almost a true grey, their scarlet glow seeming to have never existed. The lines in his aged face were drawn, and his beard was white as snow. His breath had been reduced to a low rasp, and each breath he took seemed to bring him pain. He leaned on his staff, unable to float without collapsing in discomfort.
Dora watched the Master of Time with mournful eyes. While she didn't feel she could call Clockwork a friend, she did place her trust to him, and had slipped away many times in the past to seek his council. He had always been a kind and helpful soul to her, and Dora hated to see him in such pain.
Clockwork fell into a coughing fit that nearly sent him falling over, and Dora made a move forward to help him straighten himself out.
"Dora," Clockwork spat out between coughs. "My seventh death draws near, as does a threat. You need to leave."
"I can't just leave you here like this!" Dora said. "If there's a threat coming, how do you expect to deal with it?"
"I assure you, the threat will not harm me. They won't have the time," Clockwork chuckled at the grim piece of humour.
"But…Clockwork…"
"Don't worry, Dora. I can't say that I'll be fine, but I can say that I will return. I always have." He smiled at her, and she gave a sad smile back.
"Go." The Master of Time pointed skyward, and the ceiling parted. Dora lingered for a moment, but she finally brought herself to become a dragon and soar away. Clockwork did not watch her depart. He was bent over, gripping at his chest as he continued to cough.
"Dying is bad enough," he thought. "But why are the last hours the worst?"
He found himself grateful for the distraction appearing before him. Violet flames had appeared on the floor, and they danced upward into definite shapes. One form resembled Satan; the other was clothed in armour. The flames quickly solidified, becoming spirits. Both were cloaked, one in robes of purple flame, the other in red and white cloth. Both had Pariah's Mark as a decoration on their belts. Clockwork knew both figures well, and he knew that they knew of him.
"Ah," Vlad Plasmius said with a dramatic air. "Clockwork, Master of Time."
"Vlad Plasmius," Clockwork managed to reply. "Lonely, deluded, bitter man who let jealousy and hate get the better of him. Or, in Danny's words, a seriously crazed-up fruit-loop." Clockwork allowed himself a slight grin as he saw Plasmius flinch at the insult.
"We have need of your powers," the Fright Knight declared as he stepped forward, pointing towards the Master of Time with his sword. "By now, you must have seen Lord Pariah's return."
"I saw him enslave you two," Clockwork said wryly. "He is still locked in his sarcophagus."
"Lord Pariah returns," the Knight repeated. "And, when he had us investigate his Keep, we found that the hieroglyphics of his lair contained a verse prophecy, given by you to the Ancients."
"Tá eagla orm," Plasmius purred.
"This prophecy mentioned a force that would rise up and take Lord Pariah's power once it had been restored to him," the Knight said. "Lord Pariah demands to know who will overthrow him!"
"And," Plasmius added, "Walker tells me that a certain samurai has escaped from his prison. I would like to know where he is."
"You should read the myths Oedipus and Perseus," Clockwork mused. "You might think twice about your questions."
"Oh, come now, Clockwork," Vlad slyly cooed. "With my resources and Pariah's power, do you really think we wouldn't know about your condition? You're about to die! Do you really want to waste precious time and energy trying to resist?"
"For the last time," the Knight took over, "tell us what we must know!"
"True," Clockwork smiled grimly. "My death draws near. But it is nearer than you think."
The Master of Time looked down towards his chest. His internal pendulum made a great swing upward, and seemed to suspend itself up on high for a moment. Then, as if lightly tapped by an invisible hand, it swept downward. The descent lasted mere seconds, but a small eternity seemed to pass.
The pendulum finally halted in a stiff motion, hanging straight down. It did not climb again.
"Time out," Clockwork sighed in a last, mournful breath.
The Time Lord's eyes became hollow black slits. The hair of his beard fell away in one felt swoop. The blue skin of his face cracked and chipped and fell away, showing the green skull underneath. Soon this skull was all that remained of Clockwork's face, and it fell from his cloak and rolled along the floor. The ghost's robes collapsed in a heap on the floor, as if they had just been tossed there. Clockwork's staff fell on top of them. And, as the skull rolled back and came to rest by the pile of robes, the Lair of Time became black as night.
The darkness was set back by a red orb Plasmius formed in his hands as he bent down to study the remnants of the Time Lord. He lifted up the skull and looked it over carefully. He knew that there was no sense losing sleep over the death. Clockwork's death marked the end of his existence for two months. There was no way to bring him back. But the timing of his death struck Plasmius as odd. Clockwork seemed aware that they were coming, and that he would die during their visit.
"Strange…" he mused.
"Lord Pariah will not be happy when he hears this," the Fright Knight gulped. Plasmius began to sweat once his friend's words had sunk in. The Ghost King certainly would not be happy about this. All the text that he had read on the despot painted the image of a character who could deliver severe castigation to any minion who did not perform a task. Plasmius was on shaky ground as it was. And a matter such as retrieving the name of the one who was to overthrow Pariah was no small matter.
Perhaps there was reason to lose sleep over Clockwork's death.
"There must be some other way to find out about that 'Tá eagla orm' nonsense," he growled. "Where is the lair of those 'Observants' I've heard about? They can see the future as well as Clockwork."
"In the entire history of The Ghost Zone, they have only been seen by the Ancients and by…"
"…The Order of Afterlife," Vlad grunted, frowning at the memory of that foolish society he had long ago brought to ruin. "Yes, I know. And they all needed Clockwork to call them. But the Observants can't just remain invisible until they want to talk with Clockwork. There has to be a way to find them." But as Plasmius racked the depths of his brain, he could not devise any solution. Less was known about the Observants than there was about Clockwork; and it had taken years for Plasmius to come across any tangible knowledge about the latter.
For once, he was at a loss as to what his next move should be.
"We could…"
"Run" was the word he wished to close with, but the thought left his mind as quickly as it had come, as Plasmius beheld the mark that now served as his belt buckle.
"Perhaps we can provide Lord Pariah with something to make up for the lost information," the Knight offered.
Plasmius scoffed at the idea. What could compensate for knowing the identity of one's eventual conqueror?
Both figures turned their heads at a strange rattling sound. Plasmius expanded the orb in his hand to let its red light shine on a simple table off by a doorway. On it rested a sight that took Plasmius by surprise: a Fenton Thermos. It was dirtied and dented, as though whatever it contained was able to move about within its confines and had done so often in an attempt to escape. One such mark on the thermos resembled a face, and Plasmius found something about that face to be familiar…
"What is the meaning of this?" he pondered aloud.
"A ghost kept prisoner by Clockwork must be dangerous, unstable, and a menace to all who come near it," the Fright Knight mused.
The two companions shared a look of revelation as the thermos continued to shake.
---
So…who is it that will oppose me?
Pariah's voice echoed in the minds of Plasmius and the Fright Knight. Plasmius and the Knight had just returned from their journey, and stood before the tomb. Off to their right was Prince Aragon, a snide look on his face.
"I'm afraid that Clockwork met his end before we could learn of Tá eagla orm, my lord," the Knight said, a bit hesitantly. As the mark on his belt began to glow red, and as Aragon's sneer grew, the Knight began to wish he had let Plasmius speak.
You seem to forget, my servant, that you betrayed me. You forget that it is a miracle that I have spared you and continued to have you serve me. You are in no position to displease me. And you, Plasmius…you are worse off than he is, and you have something to lose.
"Quite right," Plasmius nodded. "And I'm most upset about it. But I'm afraid only Clockwork can set back time, so unless you'd like to wait two months, I'm afraid anything on Tá eagla orm other than what's written on the walls here is out of your reach."
Your tongue displeases me, Plasmius…The mark on Plasmius's belt became brighter, and the eyes on the Sarcophagus lit up.
"So sorry, sir," Plasmius gulped, backing away a few steps. "But we were able to find something, and it may be of value…"
"You dare to try and buy off Lord Pariah?" Aragon snarled. "He is not one of your foolish henchman! You serve him now!"
"Yes, thank you for reminding me, Prince," Plasmius said, a bit of bite in his comment. "But if Lord Pariah will allow me to show him what we found…"
You may show me.
"Thank you," Plasmius bowed, and produced from his cloak the Fenton Thermos found in Clockwork's lair. "This device is used by Danny Phantom…"
"That boy!" Aragon roared, his eyes becoming reptilian. "How can he be of any help to us?"
I want nothing to do with the child.
"Ah," Plasmius cooed. "But this device is used by his little friends and himself to capture ghosts. This one was found in Clockwork's lair. Any ghost kept under watch by the Master of Time must be a truly terrible threat to young Daniel. And he must have tremendous power."
…Go on.
"Might this ghost not make a suitable companion to Aragon and myself?"
"You and the Knight," Aragon snarled. "How dare you compare yourself to me!"
Enough, my prince. So, Plasmius, you think another servant is needed?
"Not just any servant, sir. A servant who was deemed so powerful by Clockwork that he kept watch over him directly. That kind of power could be invaluable in tracking down your lost relics…and dealing with any obstacles that could stand in the way. After all, the only one that could be easy to obtain is the throne, because I had it in my possession." Plasmius gestured over to the elaborate seat that sat by the doors, brought to the Keep from his castle in Wisconsin.
…Very well, Pariah finally thought after a time. Release the spirit.
"My lord, I would bind whatever's inside that thing to you, as you did Plasmius and the Knight," Aragon suggested. "We don't know what it is."
A wise thought, my prince. The eyes on the Sarcophagus lit up, and the thermos glowed a bright red for a few moments.
Now you may release the spirit.
Plasmius twisted the lid on the thermos and popped it off.
---
The light, faint though it was, burned at Phantom's eyes. He had not seen it in at least a few months. The pain grew as his body expanded and left its cold prison. He lifted his scalloped cape over his eyes as his feet touched down on hard stone, and only gradually did he let the glow of torches and spirits reach his pupils.
Soon he could see, and the sights before him were familiar, if distant. He stood in a long hall of red masonry, a tall podium at the end of it. Perched atop the stand was an Egyptian sarcophagus, decorated with red eyes and a fiery crown. Torches held firm in their braces, casting their light across the room but creating ominous shadows in the process.
Phantom turned his head about like an owl's, and observed what was behind him. By the doors at the other end of the hall rested a throne, and directly before him stood three spirits. One, a medieval ghost with an ugly sneer on his face, was alien to him. But the other two he remembered well from bygone days of youth; the Fright Knight, Spirit of Halloween, and his old foe Vlad Plasmius. Both bore a strange mark on their belts that looked like pieces of hooks with an eye in the centre. Both wore looks of pure shock on their faces, their gazes directed at the silly emblem on Phantom's chest that had never evolved out of his suit.
Their gazes confused him, and Phantom looked down at the design. A strange heat had entered his chest, as the white emblem of his youth had become blood red. It was also changing form. Within seconds, it was the same mark on the belts of Plasmius and the Knight.
Phantom had barely begun to contemplate the strange symbol when he heard a gasp.
"…Daniel?" Plasmius spat, his eyes wide.
Sense returned to Phantom quickly, and he put on a smug grin.
"Well, well, well…" he sneered. "If it isn't my old idiot cheese head arch-enemy. I see you still have your ghost-powers. Looks like Danny never did turn into me after Clockwork's meddling." He looked down at himself and placed his hands on his chest to insure he was tangible. "But I'm still here. Wait…I could hear in that thing," he shot a glare at the thermos in Plasmius's hands. "They said I existed outside of time…"
A devil's grin replaced his sneer.
"So I can do whatever I want," he chuckled.
"…Daniel?" Plasmius repeated. The Knight was gripping his sword harshly. The medieval ghost also had a bewildered air about him.
"Not anymore," Phantom darkly said. "I grew out of it. Though getting away from the Danny you know took a little work…and the deaths of two parents named 'Jack' and 'Maddie.'" He glared over at Plasmius, hoping for some reaction.
"Maddie?" Plasmius gulped, but soon regained his composure. "Nonsense. You may be Daniel's future self from another timeline, but I have no reason to believe your foolish remark."
"Believe it," Phantom said cruelly. "And I got this new suit and face thanks to a little…borrowing of your ghost-half."
"Oh, what stupidity is that?" Plasmius scoffed. "How could you have managed that?"
"Amazing, what the death of a lousy parent will do to a jealous old man. Then again, you were always a fruit-loop."
"I am not a fruit-loop! You, apparently, suffer from delusions. You couldn't possibly have taken my powers!"
Oh?" Phantom said. He split himself into four Phantoms, reassembled, formed red ectoplasm in his hand, and teleported to and from the top of the podium.
"Well?" he said mockingly. "Oh, and the reason I got stuck in that thermos was that I tried to ensure my past by killing everyone close to Danny…Maddie included."
"Liar!" Plasmius yelled, leaping back to his feet. His teeth were bared in rage, and his eyes had lit up. Even the Knight and the medieval spectre looked appalled.
It was delicious.
"Try me," Phantom sneered.
"The equipment I gave Valerie to hunt ghosts has been monitoring Daniel since I gave it to her," Plasmius declared. "They would have detected you."
"Then why am I in this time? One of Jack's stupidly-named inventions was set to Danny's ecto-signature, and couldn't key in to me."
"…Why are you even here?" Plasmius was sounding desperate for arguments now. "It sounds as if the timeline has changed. Why haven't you vanished?"
"Why don't you ask Clockwork? Oh, and one more thing: In my time, I blew up both your houses, and I killed what was left of Danny."
Plasmius roared in fury. He shot forward, arms outstretched, seeming ready to break Phantom's neck. In response, the wicked spectre shot hot red blasts from his eyes, and sent Plasmius crashing back against a pillar of the room.
His task done, Phantom finally whipped his head around. "Ah," he cooed. "Pariah's Keep, still standing. For now." His gloved hands began to glow bright red.
What is it you intend, child? A voice echoed in his ear.
"Who's there?" Phantom said as he raised an eyebrow and lowered his hands.
You cannot recognise my voice, child?
It dawned on him. "Pariah Dark," he muttered.
Trapped within my Sarcophagus after you imprisoned me. But when Plasmius took the Crown of Fire from me, it called back, and I could awaken certain powers, including the one to commune with you through thoughts. I will be brief, child. I wish to return, and return at full power.
"You had the Crown and Ring when Danny fought you," Phantom said. "What were you missing?"
Pariah did not answer. Trapped within here, I summoned my loyal prince, Aragon, to my side. Through the Crown, I managed to enslave Plasmius and return the Fright Knight to my services.
"So…the mighty Vlad is now a lowly henchman," Phantom laughed.
We have an understanding. To repent for his offences against me, he will help track down my six relics, restore me to power, and help me erase your former self from existence. If he does this, I will pardon him for his meddling, and restore to him that which I have taken.
"And that is…?" Phantom asked, but this question was also ignored.
Plasmius has given me my throne, the first artefact. But five remain, and it may be perilous to track them down. I will need Plasmius and my servant the Knight in the future, and I wish no harm to befall Aragon. Another hand may be needed. If you serve me, I shall accept you as a new entity, separate from the child, and you shall be given freedom and power under my reign. But if you do not wish to serve, then you shall bear the punishment for your young self. Choose, and be warned, I can sense your thoughts.
Phantom leaned back laughing. How stupid did this ghost think he was? "Not much of a deal," he chuckled, rubbing his thumb and middle fingers together nonchalantly. "Can't see a lot in it for me."
"How about your life?" Aragon growled.
Precisely.
Phantom felt a rush of cold run into his head and seep down through his body. He broke out into a chill so severe that he fell to his knees. His vision turned blue, and he saw lightning run along his body, sending him into wild convulsions.
I have placed on you my Mark. So long as you wear it, you are bound to me, and I can control or kill you if I wish. I will now rephrase my offer: you may serve, or you may perish.
The lightning and cold left Phantom's body. His expression was no longer so smug. He grunted at the coffin before him, but didn't dare make a rebuttal. He had no wish to meet an untimely end. Humiliation was to be preferred over death.
But this was not something he would tolerate for long. He had enjoyed ten years of freedom, and he was not about to give that up so easily. He knew from Danny's battle with the despot that Pariah had weaknesses, and he intended to exploit them as soon as he could.
He did not see Aragon glaring at him, suspicion in his eyes. There was no mistaking that emblem. Regardless of how it had happened, Danny Phantom had become this figure, and the transformation was frightening. Aragon felt an aura of deceit about the figure, and he was not about to let this new presence – or Plasmius, or the traitorous Knight – threaten his master.
The Fright Knight was also apprehensive about this arrival. Pariah needed to be kept happy, so that his temper would not cause him to punish the Knight for his betrayal. A happy Pariah might also lower his guard or free the Knight from his mark, providing a chance to escape. If this older version of Danny Phantom revived his smarmy attitude, things could go wrong.
Plasmius seethed with rage and suspicion. If what this creature – and it wasn't Daniel – said was true, and he did absorb Plasmius's ghost-half in another time, then that was an offence worthy of vengeance. And, much as he would like to deny it, the bits of story that this spectre had given seemed possible. Even with that aside, Plasmius had too much at stake, and his own plans for Pariah, to let this character get in the way…
---
When 'roused, the King shall hear a Call
And Summon Three Souls, Dark and Tall…