Chapter 1

A/N: I'm revisiting this project. I'm gonna replace the first 3 chapters with an updated and edited version of it. I got rid of a lot of grammar errors and added a few things for context. I have a completely brand-new chapter that will come out this week as well. Enjoy.

1 year ago

The dark room was lit up by a fiery blue light. It didn't come from a flashlight or a torch, it was magic energy coming from the hand of a boy. The light softly illuminated his face, brown eyes framed by wire rimmed glasses, light brown skin, black curly hair, skinny, and a pudginess to his face that still makes him look like a kid. He was looking at 3 other boys in front of him, each taller than the first boy, who was 5"6 tall.

"Ok," he said. The 3 other boys snapped to attention, looking the smaller boy directly in the eye. "We only have one shot at this. The Shadow Organization is making their play on the president tonight. This spell will have us blend in with the crowd. When they look at us, they'll see something that belongs, if anything at all. We'll be hidden in plain sight. As soon as any of us makes a move, the spell will break for you, so choose your moment to strike, understand?"

The boys nodded. The tallest, at nearly 6 feet, a white, brown-haired hid, with brown eyes and a pudgy nose spoke up, "What will we be expecting? Poison? Sniper? Suicide bomber? I don't think we're strong enough to block that."

"Yeah," Another white boy spoke next to him. He was blond, also wearing glasses, but these were horned-rimmed and thick, magnifying his brilliant blue eyes to look bigger. He stood about 5"10 and was a little stalky, early muscles developing. "You've taught us a lot during this trip, and we all clearly have the same type of power that you do, but you haven't taught us to block something like that."

The boy smiled. "Well, Brandon," he looked at the brown-haired kid. "Alex," the blond. "You guys can do anything. I've taught you to wield your power, it's up to you to figure out how you wield it yourself. This is do-or-die time. The president can not die today, understand everyone? Him dying can't happen, not while we're here. We have power, yes, but we also have the power to change things, and make a difference. Yeah?"

The final kid is a black boy a little bit taller than the first one. He is overweight for his age, densely curly black hair that sits in a tight fro, acne, and a heated scowl hot enough to melt permafrost. He sighed. "You're full of shit Michael. How can we, a bunch of kids freshly out of middle school, supposed to save the one person who has more people watching his back than anyone else in the world?"

"Well, Francis," Michael said. "If you would have let me finish, I was gonna tell you that with this disguise spell no one can see us or would even care about us. Not even the Secret Service. We could walk right next to the president himself and no one would care. And as soon as the Shadow Organization makes its move, we'll be right there to stop it."

Francis nodded. "Ok. You're still crazy, but ok. We'll go along with your plan. You think we'll be able to get bunk beds in our cells at Guantanamo Bay when we fail to save the president?"

"Doubt it," Michael said. "Probably just torture and gang rapes. Everybody ready?"

They all nodded. Brandon set his jaw in anticipation, Alex adjusted his glasses, steel in his eyes, Francis crossed his arms and gave Michael a look of contempt, but made no protest. Michael smiled again and held up his glowing flaming hand. He began to chat.

"Four winds converge on a brush, mirror dragons dance, intertwined with the destiny of man. Reflect the light of intermission, hide the breath of life from our fellow man. Blind truth and untrusted temperance! Bakudo no. 10, Kagami!(Mirror!)"

The light shot up and 4 tongues of blue fire snaked through the air and hit the boys in the head. The fire spread down their bodies and then went out. They didn't look any different.

"Let's go," Michael said. He went to the door to the protest of the other boys. But he opened the door letting the light from the outside flood into the surprisingly spacious broom closet. Outside a gala was ongoing. Men in black and white tuxedos, women in elegant dresses, and a whole bunch of wait staff catering to the elite's every need.

"Michael, what the fuck?!" Francis said. "Your spell didn't work dip shit!"

"Then why is no one acknowledging us?" Michael replied.

Indeed no one was paying the noisy, underdressed teenagers who just walked out of a random broom closet in the White House. In fact, one of the wait staff, a bus boy, walked by and said to himself, "Who the hell left the cleaning supply room open? Someone is getting fired." He walked between the group of boys and closed the door, not paying attention to them in the slightest.

"See? No one can see us," Michael said.

"How did we get into that closet in the first place?" Alex said. "We walked into a completely different room, in a completely different building on the other side of town."

"We got here through the power of plot."

"What-"

"The fuck?" Brandon finished for Alex. Francis looked like he was trying not to have an aneurysm.

"Come on, we have a job to do." Michael turned around and walked into the crowd.

Later

Shots rang out. Someone had gotten close enough to shoot at the president! And it was none other than a Secret Service agent who was right next to him the whole night. President Barack Obama was standing at a podium giving a speech to address key issues he wants to tackle after his reelection if he is successful in the run. All of a sudden a Secret Service agent walked right up to the stage, stopped about 10 feet away from the president, and pulled out his gun. Before anyone else could react, the agent pulled the trigger and fired 4 rounds. The president only had time to flinch, before the bullets reached him. But they never came.

Just a few feet in front of him the bullets sparked against something invisible. He doesn't have his ultra-thin plexiglass in front of him, so what blocked the bullets? His answer was quickly answered when a column of blue fire-like energy burned the air in front of him. The fire slowly died out, curling off of the frame of a young boy, about 14, standing with a sword drawn in a defensive position.

"Don't worry Mr. President!" Michael said. "Just stay there and we'll take care of this!"

"We?" The president asked. The sound of metal being drawn rang out around him as 3 more columns of blue flame came to life in mid-air around him, dying down to reveal 3 more boys with swords drawn. The president knows about magic, but no one in the entire world was powerful enough to use it. Until now it seems to him.

The agent who fired dropped his gun and went slack-jawed. He hunched over so that his face was parallel to the floor. He began to wraith, foam frothing in his mouth. He shook off his black shades, his eyes an unnatural grey like cataracts, the wet spit from his mouth wiping off makeup that made him look still alive. The corpse's back split open as if a pillow ripping at the seams.

Black ooze shot out in a fountain, forming a massive puddle around the dead man. People screamed and ran for the exits as the other Secret Service members finally took action and ran forward. Half of them pointed guns at the black mass that was bubbling and frothing like acid, while the other half pointed guns at the 4 boys.

"I would back up if I were you," Michael said.

"Step away from the president!" One agent shouted. "We have you surrounded!"

"No," Michael said, staring straight at the mass of black liquid. "You're just in the way and are about to be killed."

As soon as he said it, the mass surged forth and a dozen human-shaped beings took form from the black ooze, burning yellow eyes, and sharp talon-like claws on each hand. They twitched and sprang forward into a hail of gunfire that did practically nothing, and tore into the flesh of the agents who were closest. One sprinted at Michael who ducked under its swipe, jumped upwards and sliced through the creature's ribs, if it had any, turned in mid-air, and brought down his sword, decapitating the creature. It fell and burned, leaving nothing behind but black soot and ash.

The screams of the dying started to end, and the creatures got back up. More seemed to bleed out of the shadows in the corners of the room, surrounding everyone who is left.

"Mr. President," Michael said. "It would be in your best interest to stick close to us and let us handle this. It's a situation that your Servicemen can't handle right now. Leave it to us."

The president was slack jawed, this kid, who still looks like he was 12, just moved faster than the eye can see and killed this creature in 3 seconds flat while half his guards got chewed through like candy. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked.

"I got your back, sir," Alex said, his sword held in front of him in a horizontal stance. "Stay close to us and you'll be safe."

The president thought for a moment and then nodded. "Alright, this entire situation is crazy, so, I'm ordering you as the Commander and Chief, protect me to the best of your abilities!" he turned to the rest. "All of you, save your president!"

The monsters sprang into action, the boys held their ground, and most of the Servicemen were slain that day. That day was also the start of the Soul Society.

1 year later

"I wonder what the president wanted," Brandon asked Michael and they walked down a hallway leading to the Oval Office in the White House. They were different. The same looking, but different. For one, both walked with purpose, both had on formal black military fatigues and combat boots. And both had on white overcoats with a diamond pattern on the bottom trim, and a diamond symbol in the middle of their backs with the Japanese kanji 一 (one) for Michael and the kanji 二 (two) for Brandon. Both had swords strapped to their waist. Michael had a European long sword with a double edge, and Brandon had a Japanese Katana.

"I don't know," Michael said. "Today is the one-year anniversary of the incident. So many good Secret Servicemen died that day, but we came out of it more or less ok. If a little beat up."

"Yeah," Brandon nodded. "Something is definitely up. Should we be cautious?"

"Has he ever given us a reason not to?"

"He gave us everything."

"Exactly, so be on your guard."

"Will do boss."

They reached the door to the Oval Office, and two guards in black suits and shades stood at attention on either side of the door. They eyed the boy's swords but said nothing. Even those out of the loop, people know that the kids who open-carry swords in the White House are special and to not be messed with. So instead they nodded at the two young men and opened the door for them. Brandon and Michael nodded back and entered the room. The president was signing papers at his desk when they walked in. He looked up and smiled.

"Hello, boys!" The president said as he got up. "Please, take a seat." He motioned to the couches in the center of the room. They nodded and both moved to take a seat, unstrapping their swords as they did. They sat opposite each other, being separated by a coffee table. The president went and sat next to Brandon, he placed a file on the coffee table.

"I know that today is the anniversary of the incident that happened last year, and once again I want to express my most sincere gratitude that you boys were there that night."

"Think nothing of it," Michael said. "We are just citizens doing our duty to our country."

"Besides," Brandon said. "You've more than paid us back with the land you gave us and the funding for our little organization."

"I'd hardly call the Soul Society little," the president said. "But that's an argument for another time. Right now, I have a case for you."

The boys straightened up. Never has the president asked them to do any kind of mission before, neither officially nor unofficially, this piqued their interest. "Really?" Michael said. "What's so important that you of all people would want us to do? Don't you have a billion people working for you day and night?"
"I have dozens of task forces working around the clock day and night monitoring threats both domestic and foreign, and even one that's been dedicated to this particular one for over 30 years now."

Michael and Brandon shared a look. This could be what they were waiting for, a chance.

"Ok," Michael said. "You've piqued our interest." Brandon nodded.

The president nodded back and opened the folder. Inside was a Polaroid aerial shot of a small town with a tall water tower, surrounded by a lush forest and tall cliffs.

"This is Gravity Falls," the president said. "Located in the Pacific Northwest, nestled in a forest in the middle of Oregon, it's an unassuming town, perfect for a summer getaway. The main income from this town is tourism, ranging from sideshow attractions, a pristine crystal clear lake and waterfall, and even a, and I'm quoting here, "Tent O' Telepathy," ugh. Just saying that is making me queasy."

The door opened up and a Serviceman peaked his head in. He said, "Sir, should I get you some Tums?"

"No, it's fine. It was just an expression, Gerald."

"Ok, let us know if you need anything, sir." He closed the door.

The president sighed. "Ever since the incident last year, they've been more and more overprotective every day. It's like having my mother hover over my shoulder day after day. It gets exhausting."

Brandon nodded and said, "I'm sorry to hear that, sir."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"The case?" Michael asked. "What's so important about a hick town in the middle of nowhere?"

"Right," the president moved the picture aside and handed the boys a paper each from the file. "This town is the center of anomalous beings for centuries. Things kicked up about 30 years ago when a grad student decided to write his dissertation on the paranormal. Normally we wouldn't even give this a second glance, but then, he actually started to make actual progress. And then… nothing."

"Nothing?"

"He went dark," the president elaborated. "His research suddenly stopped and he dropped off the face of the earth. His brother took up the residence shortly thereafter and turned it into a tourist trap. What was it called?

"The Mystery Shack," Brandon said reading off the paper the president gave him. "Several power surges have been resonating from the residence lately and the power signature is… weird."

"Weird how?" Michael asked.

"The power is more than what the town uses in a year, and it's coming from an internal source. And several other energy-related anomalies have occurred either in or near the town of Gravity Falls proper. What do you have?"

"Missing person statistics," Michael replied. He flipped the page over. "As well as mass hysteria incidence, followed by mass amnesia to dozens of people. Someone or something made them forget whatever freaked them out in the first place." No one argued the 'something' comment, everyone in the room knows that there are things that go bump in the night that can't be explained.

"There are also several documented incidents of strange creatures that are magic in origin that seem to populate the woods around Gravity Falls," the president said.

"So? There are magical creatures everywhere. I'm pretty sure the cleaning staff has a secret family of Brownies hidden somewhere to help with the cleaning." At everyone's look, Michael explained, "The kitchen staff leaves out bowls of milk and honey. It's a textbook offering to keep in good graces for housing spirits."

They nodded, having long ago accepted Michael's brand of weirdness.

"Having said that," the president said. "This area has a far larger concentration of magical creatures than anywhere in the United States. Except maybe Chicago, but that's gang turf basically. These creatures are, well, weird. Apart from the run-of-the-mill vampire and werewolf, there are also several strange creatures spotted that look like a toddler mixed up random animals together for fun."

"Yeah, I agree about the toddler part," Brandon said, flipping through more pages of the file. "Manotours, multi-bear, gobblewonker? These names make no sense."

"So what's the job?" Michael asked. "I mean, obviously we're gonna do it, but all we've been getting is exposition. What do you need us to do, sir?"

"Well," the president said. "I would like you to investigate however you can. The power surges alone are cause for concern. A special task force was set up 30 years ago when the anomaly started, and after 3 decades of work, they have nothing to show for it. Now, I've funded your organization with billions of taxpayer's dollars, now I want that investment to start being paid back."

Michael and Brandon looked at each other, sharing a brief silent conversation with just one look. To be called on was expected, but to be called on as this went beyond their expectations. In a good way. No one can sniff out the supernatural like these two, and very soon, the Soul Society.

"Brandon was right," the president continued. "The power surges alone are cause for alarm. There's also a signature that mimics cosmic radiation. We don't know what it is and we need you to find out. Think you can do that for us? I'm asking as both a friend, and as your president. Please rise to the occasion and help serve your country once again."

Michael and Branded nodded and stood up. "Consider it done, Mr. President," Michael said. He gathered up the file and tucked it under his arm. His sword flew back to his belt and retrapped itself. Brandon tied his own himself. "We'll get to working on this right away. We'll update you with anything we get."

"Thank you, boys," the president shook each of their hands. "Please, do your country proud." They nodded and walked out the door.

Walking back down the hallway, Brandon asked, "So, what's the plan you got cooking in there."

"You know me too well," Michael smiled. "I was thinking I can go in myself undercover with a small team."

Brandon gave him a look. "Is that a good idea? You already have people coming after your head. Are you sure you don't want me or the other captains to go with you? Or even Eva?"

Michael shook his head. "Eva hasn't gotten to the rank of Lieutenant yet. And besides, none of you know how to conceal your spiritual power that well yet. I still struggle with it, but I can be invisible if I need to. The creatures there might be able to sense spirit energy, so we need to be careful. And while I'm gone, someone needs to fill in my seat, and that's the exact job that a lieutenant is supposed to do, and you're the only one who can fit the bill."

Brandon nodded, knowing the protocols since he helped make them. "Ok, I get that, but still, you're gonna need some backup. I'm the leader of the Stealth Force for a reason. I can be outside, monitoring the whole town if I need to."

"I know you can," Michael said. "Which is why I need you to hang back at Soul Society. To teach the new recruits what you know."

"I know what you taught me."

"And you've learned much more on your own," Michael replied. "Besides, I already have a team in mind."

"Of course you do," Brandon sighed. He's been his friend since the 6th grade, and when he puts his mind to something, Michael becomes an unstoppable force. "Who is it?"

"Red and the gang I've been personally teaching."

Brandon's eyebrow twitched, and a small smile upturned the corner of his mouth. "Really? Gonna make a move on Red?"

When no answer came, Brandon stopped walking. Michael stopped a few seconds before, so Brandon turned to look at him. "It's not gonna be like that, and it can never be like that. Not anymore."

"Why?" Brandon hadn't seen him so… not calm in years. Even when building the Soul Society from the ground up he was always optimistic. Now, he isn't. "Did something happen? You didn't make a move on her did you?"

Michael shook his head. "No. She's gonna be a Captain soon. She's close to a bankai.

A few weeks later, Gravity Falls

Dipper PoV

"So, a party," I said. "That's actually warranted. We deserve it after all the stuff Gideon put us through."

"Yup!" Grunkle Stan said. "And one more shampooing in the downstairs carpet can get that nasty musky hairspray smell out. That kid uses it like it's holy water or something. It smells like mothballs."

1 week after Gideon stole the shack. 1 week after we were homeless for a quick spell and 1 week after… Bill. Things were finally starting to get back to normal. And tomorrow the shack finally opens back up for business!

Suddenly, the door to the gift shop was kicked open and there stood Mabel who was the one who kicked it. "Ow," she said. "Kicking doors in is a lot harder than in the movies." She kneeled down to massage her leg. "Yeah, this is gonna be fun today. Oh hey guys!" She shot up and immediately ran over and tackled me in a hug. "Dipper, the day is almost here, we can open up shop again!"

"I know Mabel, I'm excited too!" I hugged her back, once I could breathe again. "So how was girls' day?"

"Great!" Wendy said she came in behind. "Got the extra strength shampoo and renewed the Rug Doctor rental you got. Are you sure you want to be wasting more money on it? It's like the 12th time you've shampooed the carpet."

"The 13th actually," I said. "But who's counting? Certainly, not me and Mabel, who may or may not have a bet going on."

"Really? Who's winning?"

"I am!" Mable said. "I got Grunkle Stan stopping at 14, Dipper has 20. Soos said he'd stop at 17. So one more shampooing and I win my favorite candy flavor!"

"Which is what?" Wendy asked.

"Candy flavor candy!" Mabel exclaimed.

"Is… is that a real flavor?"

"She eats raw sugar packets," I said coming up behind them. "So, literally we can give her anything and she'll eat it. FYI, don't try her Mabel Juice."

"Um, what?"

"The less said about that, the better."

"Ok."

"Did you get the supplies I asked for, by the way?" I asked them. "The party isn't gonna set itself up. Unless… nah, Journal doesn't have a spell for that, I would remember."

"Oh, shoot, I knew I forgot something!" Wendy snapped her fingers and looked disappointed. "I'm sorry Dipper. Mabel wanted to try and drink some of the cleaners to see if they tasted any cleaner than each other. It was a whole thing."

"Why am I not surprised by any of that."

"She's your sister?"

"Good point. It's fine Wendy," I assured her. "I'll go and get them. I need to get out of the house anyway. Grunkle Stan has been making weird laughing sounds at that Gideon doll all day, and it's creeping me out big time." I pointed behind her, and she turned to see Grunkle Stan holding a Gideon doll with one hand, laughing menacingly.

"Yeah, you go do you Dip," she said, cringing at the sight. "I'll handle… whatever this is…. God, I'm not getting paid enough to deal with this."

Only feeling slightly bad, I leave her with the Grunkle Stan situation, while Mabel is egging him on, and go to the cart. Once in, I drive to town. It's a nice day, late afternoon with the sun just beginning to make its descent towards dusk, it's a nice peaceful day.

In town, I parked my cart off of the main street and got out. The store I needed, "Occult Emporium," has a few ingredients I need for a mind protection potion I wanted to make. I don't want to have any chance of run-ins with any isosceles monsters. But as I was walking to the store I caught sight of someone I've never seen around town before. A teenager a few years older than me, sitting on a bench strumming an acoustic guitar.

"I searched for form and land/For years and years I roamed," he sang as he hit the notes on his guitar, he paused for a second, looked like he was in deep thought, and then resumed with another verse. "I must have died alone/A long long time ago," I couldn't tell for sure, but the look in his eyes told me that he was singing about more than just the lyrics. Like he was trying to say something. Or I could just be looking too much into it.

"Wow," I say out loud when he finishes playing the song. "You are good. Like, really good."

"Thanks, kid," he said. He was taller than me, with light brown skin, curly black hair, and glasses. He looked to be about Wendy's age. "You have a lot of other people you know to compare me to?"

"Um, not really. Well, there is this one guy, but he's not actually that good."

"Why? Can't hold a note?"

"No, he just has no talent."

"Ah, that's a shame. I'm looking for a second guitarist. Oh well."

"What brings you to town? Usually, tourists check out the sideshow attractions and leave."

"Oh, I'm here for a show," he says while putting his guitar in its case. "Me and my band do covers and gigs. We're not famous or anything, just trying to make a few bucks."

"Really? Why not though, you sound amazing!"

The teenager laughed. "I appreciate the compliment but we only do covers. Writing songs is hard and we have no creativity."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, at least you can give a good show from what I just saw."

He smiled. Then reached into his pocket and handed me a folded piece of paper. When I unfolded it, I saw that it was a flier for his band. "A nameless band?" I ask. "Is that a play on words or something?"
"No," he replied while getting up. He's a little taller than me, but not by much. "We just couldn't agree on a name so we went with that. Why don't you come by the venue tonight? It's kid-friendly so all ages are welcome. I'll even comp your ticket."

"Really? I've never been to a concert before," I said looking back at the flier. On it was him as the frontman, a girl with red hair on the bass, another boy with black on another guitar, and a chubby boy on drums. "Is it ok though?"

"Yeah. I have a few extra tickets that I can give away. Do you want to bring a friend? Maybe a special someone you want to show a good time?" He gives me a knowing smile as if he could read my mind, but he was probably just guessing that I have a crush on someone.

"Well," I say and look back at the flier. "Is it really ok? To be giving out free tickets I mean. You just met me and… I don't even know your name."

He snapped his fingers and said, "Oh shoot, I'm sorry! Where are my manners." He cleared his throat and said, "I'm Michael. What's your name?"

I looked back at him, Michael was smiling in good nature, his brown eyes twinkling with some sort of mischief. "I'm Dipper. Dipper Pines. Do you think I can get 2 extra? One for my sister and one for my… friend."

"That special someone?" His smile grows wider.

"Yes," I say, feeling heat rise into my cheeks.

"Dipper," he puts a hand on my shoulder. "Consider it done."

End Chapter 1

A/N: I'm gonna flesh out the characters of my OC's but for the most part this will be centered around the main cast of the show. There will be arcs, and kick-ass anime-styled fights. Stay tuned, and enjoy :)