Half/Baby-Eldritch Danny.
Born to human parents.
Raised a human brother among human friends.
Died a human. Born again within a hole between opposite realities and dimensions.
Born a half.
Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom, Danny Phantom was a boy who should not exist.
Against the very laws of reality and the world itself, he was now living-dead as a paradox.
The Living were Human. The Dead were Ghosts.
If not Living, if not Dead, what was he?
So if not human, what was he? So if not Ghost, what was he?
A zombie? No. He had no Corpse.
A human with ghost powers? No, he bled green. They weren't just Powers, they were (un)nature. It took much too long for him to really come to terms with this, in denial for so long, but secretly knowing deep down.
A ghost with the ability to join the living again? No, he bled red. He used energy like the living would.
He was something in-between and something entirely different.
That's just what happens when one is reborn/remade in a wormhole between infinities.
Daniel James Fenton was a maddening entity to any who looked too closely.
Daniel James Fenton knew what he was while at the same time didn't. He knows the term. It was described in class as fictional, something which should not, and could not exist. He was a baby Eldritch Entity. An Outsider. Or at least half of one.
Ascended beyond the limits of not just humanity but of reality itself.
With this acceptance came new sensations.
The Infinite Realms looked far different than they did with the human eyes he once looked through.
The minds of mortals so fragile, so easy to see now. As were their Souls.
With eyes that could see in Colors unimaginable, he cheered. With those eyes unable to share their wonders with another, he wept.
With teeth far too many, far too sharp, with tongue too long, too green he could taste things that should not have taste. The explorer within him screamed in joy, the friend in him cried out in desperation.
With Ears too sharp, too long, if there at all when hair fell over, heartbeats became soothing rhythms, but hearts too fast or slow left him alone. Sounds beyond comprehension without words humans could describe made the very world he stood on feel alien, himself an alien in the world.
With a nose by which emotions and pasts could be smelt, he felt like a detective, he felt invasive.
With touch that could reach out for the immaterial, that could feel the so-called-fabric of reality, or introduce that same fabric to that which does not exist in physicality, his world felt opened to so many different facets. His world suddenly felt so fragile, like he could tear it by moving wrong. A touch that could reach into a painting and pull out an apple, or enter a game or mind and have it build around him feeling of the same strings and fabrics as outside.
With a vestibular sense no longer limited to walking along the same paths as everyone else, he was free to fly, to reach for freedom unimpeded by simple dimensions. Experiencing destinations no other living could truly the same, lest he share a fraction of it, of his freedom.
With senses beyond those a human could and should have he could experience the Souls of others in all their glory and disturbances. Something his human half didn't like. Far more invasive than his nose, he could gleam so much from so little. He could sense life, auras, and death.
It was by this aforementioned sense he figured out the protection he afforded those around him with his own, protection from him, from maddening.
It was by this same breached aura that his parents and the GIW lost themselves completely.
For when they looked inside, when they invaded the body beyond comprehension, it was not their curiosity that was provoked, but their reality.
The second they breached through his aura, the second he let it down in his wariness, the second they opened beneath the skin, they were lost.
But they were not all.
Buildings came to a facsimile of life.
Plants took on impossible characteristics.
Minds bent in a radius far and wide.
Danny sits in front of one such plant affected by the elimination of his Protective Aura. It glowed like a nebula in place of whatever it was before. It stalk black, violet, and red, as were it leaves. This flower was the closest one to him when he escaped. Before he could put his concept of Protection in the form of aura back up.
He had plucked the flower, it showed no signs of wilting in his hands. It was beautiful. He would keep it, forming a vase of un-melting ice and ectoplasm. A crystalline blue and neon green made up the colors of its new resting place.
He stored it in a space that mortals could not see. A space within him, spiritually.
He put up his aura again and willed two rings into existence that divided reality and unreality, life and death, madness and sanity, eldritch and human.
The two rings crossed over his body, and with senses far more limited than before, but also far more familiar, he stood human again. Mostly.
He much preferred sitting in with everyone else than being an outsider interfering.
He needed energy, human energy, he could repair the fragile minds of the mortals after that, let his Aura wash over them and undo the damages done.
This was not the first time he has had to. Only the first time things had gotten so far.
Distantly, he was sad. Humanly. Though privy to the Souls of humans, he was also understanding. He didn't like being understanding here. He wanted to be sad, to be mad, to have righteous fury and despair, to feel human. But for as long as it has been since he last was one, he felt he was just an Outsider looking in, even at his own fate and body.