Disclaimer: I still don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does, and I somehow doubt that will be changing any time soon. Since I'm not making any money from this, there is nothing for the law-ninjas to sue out of me.

Author's Note: Well, we are officially underway! Remember, you don't have to have read Jeremiad or Anathema to be up to speed on Benediction, but it certainly wouldn't hurt. As always, reviews and other such feedback are vastly appreciated!

Chapter 1: Demon's Escape

"Sometimes I feel so out of time and place, trapped in a maze

As if I was lost in someone else's life...

The values I should keep in high regard don't mean a thing to me"

-"Misplaced" - Sonata Arctica

He drifted through the Ghost Zone of ten years ago, considering his options. So much was doubtlessly wrong with the timeline now, it seemed a daunting task even for him to set it right. Really, he'd missed his narrow window of opportunity. His weakness had plenty of time to make dozens of useless promises and mentally brace himself against the possibility of such a catastrophic loss. Even if Danny lost his friends and family now, it was clear the child would never consent to the cheesehead's offer to remove his ghost half, the botched operation that had given rise to his proper existence.

So I exist 'outside of time', was what those stupid ghosts said. He mused. He hadn't been entirely deprived of sound during his imprisonment, and he had heard bits of conversation regarding him and his weakness. So then it doesn't matter what I do to this timeline. At all.

He passed a large purple football, and the thing stopped him in his tracks. Why was it so familiar, and what was a giant purple-hued football doing in the Ghost Zone? Footballs distantly reminded him of that idiot Dash, yet another person who should have been dead but wasn't. No, that wasn't what was familiar about the thing. Momentarily distracted from scheming, he approached it, tapping a finger against the rough surface. A distant memory of part of him hunting for a key surfaced, and he nearly slapped himself on the forehead. Ten years later, and he only now remembered that the cheesehead's portal was sealed by a blatantly obvious football? With an annoyed grunt, he kicked the oversized sports equipment aside and dove through the swirling green vortex it had been hiding. He didn't need to use an artificial portal to cross from the human world to the Ghost Zone as he had long been capable of generating his own portals; but if he was free to do as he wished with this false reality, the cheesehead's castle was as good a place to start as any.

The lab on the other side was little changed from what he remembered. Various details were changed of course, gadgetry lying in various locations, computers full of unfamiliar data. That didn't bother him in the slightest. This was a place from distant memory and while altered, this was the place he had shed his weakness, consigned his human self to oblivion. The cheesehead himself was nowhere in sight, but this didn't bother him overmuch either. Yes, perhaps the existence in this timeline of his full-powered archenemy would prove entertaining. Valerie had long ago ceased to be an amusement, and in this inherently wrong timeline, the girl had yet to acquire the skill or the absolute dedication to trying to kill him. But Vlad Masters? The original human-ghost hybrid might prove a challenge, at least for some short time.

The old castle. Still standing. He mused, a large green energy blast forming in one hand. I'll just fix that little problem.

---

Vlad Masters was having a very good day. He'd spent the better part of the weekend out of town for a computer technology convention, unveiling Vladco's latest processors. Granted, the new hardware was merely a scaled down version of the equipment in his secret labs in Wisconsin and Colorado, but even then the new gadgets were quite impressive. Several large companies had submitted queries about the new processors and simply put, it had been a very productive, very profitable few days. However, the billionaire was quite looking forward to returning to the peace and quiet of his castle where he could relax, and perhaps fiddle with some of his latest projects in the lab. Perhaps he could work on some little plot with which to pester Daniel.

Vlad settled comfortably against the plush limo seat, watching the familiar towers of home coming into view. Needless to say, when the ground heaved suddenly and sent the limo screeching to a halt, the man had an excellent view of those towers. That is, an excellent view of the towers as they buckled and fell, consumed by a massive green explosion.

"What was that?" He demanded to no one in particular. I just changed the ecto-filtrator last week! For the most part all the ghosts that he knew of would not have dared to attack his castle. Vlad certainly was not well-loved by the denizens of the Ghost Zone, but he was well-feared. The limo was still perhaps a mile from the castle, so Vlad stepped out of the slow vehicle. The driver was one of the ghosts in his employment and already knew Vlad was half-ghost, so in a flash of black the billionaire transformed, taking to the air to find out what had just destroyed his castle. His (only recently replaced) collection of Packers memorabilia would be avenged!

From above the sheer destruction was both awesome and terrible. Clearly the explosion had to have originated in the basement, for to Vlad's sharp eyes the lab, or rather the twisted steel and shattered concrete remains of it were laid bare to the sky, the entire ceiling ripped away, reinforced sidewalls entirely pulverized. Items from the lab were blasted several hundred feet from where they had originally been, what few bits were still recognizable smashed beyond hope of repair. Indeed, the explosion seemed to have been worse than when his portal had up and exploded. That had left at least a few walls standing. Where his massive castle had stood, now all that remained was a giant crater scooped from ground by the incredible force of the blast. While he floated above the wreckage holding off on an angry outburst, he did a mental check of his projects. Had any of those been volatile enough to detonate with that kind of force? No, it was impossible. Not even any of Skulker's new weapons were able to generate such powerful results. Not even he could generate an ecto-blast with the explosive power of a thermonuclear device.

If it wasn't my work, and it certainly wasn't me, then what... or who-?

Vlad was startled from his musing by demented laughter floating up from somewhere below him, somewhere down in the crater. Clearly, it had to be the culprit. With some quick aerial maneuvering, Vlad made certain the sun was at his back in case whoever it was decided to glance up. Whoever it was had a tall build, muscular and with the veiled promise of deadly power. From where he hovered, Vlad couldn't see the ghost's face, but the black and white costume seemed distantly familiar. The figure below turned around and shot off into the sky, tearing past Vlad with incredible speed. The billionaire didn't even see the green blast coming until it struck and sent him reeling briefly, the attack clearly not intended to do real harm, but to simply knock him off balance while the ghost escaped.

"DANIEL!" He yelped, at a complete loss as to what exactly was going on. It was a ghost, clearly, but too tall to be Daniel; too powerful to be his rival. But he saw it when the ghost had blazed past, clear as day, that silly nested DP emblem. Clearly, the younger ghost hybrid had something to do with this. The question was what? Had the boy found how to alter his ghostly appearance already? It was certainly possible, Vlad had obtained that particular skill within two years of his own incident, and Daniel's powers had been developing at a mildly alarming rate. Vlad was certain that even assuming Daniel had some new guise, that the boy could not possibly have become so powerful since their last encounter, when he had encouraged the young hybrid to help him resolve his acne problem.

The ghost had long since disappeared in the distance, heading straight in the direction of Amity Park, an aerial route Vlad was quite familiar with having traversed it numerous times himself. Assuming that was Daniel, how had he gotten so powerful? Why did the boy target his castle, while only taking potshots at his real target? It's extremely unlike the boy to instigate something like this. Vlad mused, dusting the soot from the ecto-blast off his impeccable white attire. Destroying his enemy's stronghold was a tactic he might be more inclined to, and tempting though it was, Vlad had never actually followed through. Daniel was certainly dense, but the boy was not stupid; he had to know that making such a bold move would not help keep either of their identities secret as per their uneasy 'truce'.

Oh fudgedoodles! Now I need to figure out some believeable explanation as to why my castle has exploded twice in the past year! Vlad scowled as he landed amid the ruins. Coming up with a plausible excuse once hadn't been too difficult. He had merely placed the blame on the Guys in White and a botched attempt to capture the Dairy King. That excuse wouldn't be terribly well received a second time. Perhaps he could claim it had been a gas leak over the weekend, turning the place into a veritable bomb by the time he returned from the conference. Well, if all else failed, he would simply resort to more underhanded measures to deflect any untoward investigation. A little cash here, a bit of overshadowing there...

And no thanks to Daniel. Vlad surveyed the wreckage up close, a fiercely displeased, full-fanged scowl plastered on his face. Some things had survived the first explosion. The destruction here was far worse, an absolute, total loss of the mansion and every single thing inside it. Including irreplaceable Packers trinkets he'd obtained since the last explosion. No amount of money could make up for the loss of signed jerseys, footballs, and helmets. No amount of money could make up for the hours of lost research, data irretrievably lost unless it was old enough to be backed up in Colorado. It was certainly out of character for Daniel, but Vlad didn't particularly care about that little bit of trivia just then. He would get to the bottom of things, one way or another.

---

He flew off, laughing the entire way. He had caught the cheesehead off guard easily enough, but resisted the initial urge to start blasting. Vlad could wait, he had more important things to vaporize with the castle out of the way. In the back of his mind, he knew he was completely off his nut, but the fact didn't bother him much. His timeline was gone, was it? He was stranded in time, bereft of friends and family for the past ten years, and now without even so much as a past to call his own? Fine, he was free then to destroy this one, to destroy his weakness, Valerie, the cheesehead, and everything else that he felt needed to be vaporized. As he shot over farmland and scattered bits of suburbia, he decided that there were a lot of things that needed to be vaporized.

He didn't waste much time on his way to Amity Park, as that city was his top priority. However, he amused himself as the miles rolled by below with several large blasts, randomly ripping the landscape asunder, occasionally clipping houses and large buildings. He couldn't help but laugh, it reminded him entirely of his first flight from Wisconsin to Amity Park after he had brutally shed his weakness a decade ago. Well, it had been ten years ago for him, despite his present temporal displacement. Yes, and at the end of that long flight had been Valerie, the little witch who had been responsible for thwarting him at nearly every turn. He growled at that recollection, one fang glinting in the sunlight. Oh, he would make her pay. She wouldn't get the chance to assemble a resistance like she had in his proper timeline.

---

"Man, you should've told us you had a such an awesome pool ages ago, Sam!" Tucker declared, reclining on his pool raft, a soda in one hand. "This totally beats waiting in line at Floody Waters!"

"Yeah, no lines, no jocks..." Danny watched Sam cannonball into the pool from the high dive, the goth girl's splashdown lightly spattering Tucker. "... and no ghosts!"

"Present company excluded?" Sam chuckled at the bad joke. "Your turn, Danny!"

It wasn't how the teenage half-ghost had originally envisioned spending his summer. After the frantic cross-country chase that had ironically covered the entirety of their original road trip however, just staying in town and relaxing was certainly an enjoyable alternative. Danny suspected he would be jumpy about his secret identity for months after the media blitz and nationwide manhunt that had followed right on the heels of his identity being blown. He hadn't told either of his friends, but he was desperately glad that he had been able to use the Reality Gauntlet to wipe that fact from the minds and memories of the entire country. It had been an uncomfortable wake-up call to what could happen if his secret got out.

Danny glanced down from the high dive platform. Funny how he could fly several hundred feet in the air without a problem, and still find the idea of throwing himself from a twenty foot diving board daunting. Wait, who says I have to jump from the platform?

Grinning impishly, Danny jumped from the diving board, but stayed in the air in a blatant affront to physics. Sam cocked an eyebrow as the half-ghost positioned himself in the air, slightly offset from where Tucker's raft floated. Still grinning, Danny curled up into the traditional cannonball position, and simply let gravity do the rest, his splashdown soaking Tucker and sending large waves throughout the giant pool.

"Hey-!" The techno-geek yelped, having not seen the splash attack coming. "No fair!"

Danny surfaced, just in time to catch a shot from Tucker's water gun to the face. Before long, the trio were engaged in a vigorous splashing war, laughing and enjoying the pleasant weather and freedom from responsibilities that came with summer vacation. The struggle shifted gradually from free-for-all soaking to Danny and Sam attempting to overturn Tucker's raft, the latter throwing all his slight weight into thwarting their efforts.

"C'mon in, the water's fine!" Sam chuckled as she flung a handful of water at Tucker.

"You just want my raft!" He accused, splashing at Danny to prevent the dark-haired teen from sneaking up and dumping the raft.

"What makes you think that?"

After several minutes of the effort, Danny ducked under the water, swimming beneath the raft to place one hand against plastic. For just a second the raft was intangible, just long enough for Tucker to plunge through it into the water. Mission accomplished, Danny flew up through the raft and settled comfortably on the now vacant pool toy.

"Nah, Sam didn't want the raft." Danny grinned as his friend came up for air, sputtering. "I did!"

Sam and Tucker exchanged looks, nodding once. While Danny relaxed on the pool raft, the other two stealthily paddled around to one side, slowly guiding the raft to shallower water. Danny had his eyes closed, soaking up the sun, so he didn't pay the slight motion any heed. With the better footing on the pool floor, Sam and Tucker had just enough leverage to, on an unspoken signal, throw their weight into it and flip the raft entirely over, dumping Danny with a yelp back into the pool.

The trio's merriment came to a sudden halt when the low rumble of an explosion echoed through the air, the shockwave an inaudible WHUMP seconds later.

"What was that?" Sam glanced toward a plume of smoke visible in the distance.

"Sounded like an explosion." Tucker noted.

Danny tensed, concerned. Explosions generally meant one of two things: His parents were out in public testing some new gadget, or a ghost was up to no good. More often than not, it was the latter.

"Danny, chill." Sam put a hand reassuringly on her friend's shoulder. "Summer vacation, no responsibilities, remember? Let your parents deal with it."

Danny exhaled and tried to make himself relax. "Yeah, you're right. Think it's on the news yet?"

"Easy way to find out." Sam climbed out of the pool, wrapping her black towel around her waist. She scooped up a little remote control, and with the press of a few buttons a small television screen slid out from a hidden compartment near the pool.

"Man that's handy!" Tucker hefted himself up on the edge of the pool to watch the screen, Danny following suit as the screen came to life.

"This is Tiffany Snow with a breaking news report!" The entirely too perky voice of the news anchor declared. "Just moments ago, what appears to be a ghost attacked this fast food restaurant-" The screen changed to a helicopter camera, showing smoldering ruins of an all-too-familiar eating establishment.

"They blew up the Nasty Burger!" Tucker yelped, recognizing the toppled sign.

"Yeow." Sam stared as the camera zoomed out somewhat, catching the ghost responsible in the frame, clearly laughing with delight at the destruction.

Danny's blood ran cold the instant he laid eyes on that figure, a bolt of pure fear making his blue eyes fly wide open in horror. "Oh no..."

That twisted mirror image was burned forever into Danny's memory, the demented future that had been averted only by the narrowest of margins and with the meddling of Clockwork. Danny would never forget the absolute consuming terror he had felt when he thought for certain his friends and his family were dead. The nightmare form of his alternate evil future self had been haunting his dreams for months, a fear that he had subdued with frequent reminders that the ghostly fusion of his and Vlad's ghost halves was sealed securely in a Fenton Thermos, trapped for good. That reassurance was burned to nothing as Danny watched the ghost start lobbing green blasts at nearby buildings, the news camera only faintly catching the screams of panic.

He couldn't leave this to his parents even if he wanted to. This was his nightmare, and he would have to face it head on.