Walker had encountered Plasmius often enough to be able to identify a halfa when he saw one, even if there hadn't been hundreds of rumors about Phantom beforehand. So, the sight of a human, a living being using powers that should have been reserved for the dead, didn't shock him. Sure, he'd been confused about why the boy didn't transform like Plasmius did, until he'd been forced to acknowledge how much harder it was to catch Phantom when he could phase through almost everything he had to throw at him, but not shocked.

No, even when Phantom was chained to a chair in Walker's office with twice-forged chains and seemingly struggling to call up the rings that seemed to typically precede a halfa's transformation, Walker hadn't been shocked. He didn't know how a halfa's powers progressed, after all, and Phantom seemed younger than Plasmius.

This, though? He'd spent nigh on a hundred years dead and buried and he'd never seen anything that set him back as badly as this before.

He stared at the absolutely miniature blob ghosts sitting where Phantom had been.

"What in tarnation-"

The blob squealed and rocketed to the door. It was fast for such a little thing, but it clearly didn't have much experience manipulating its form and stalled while trying to squeeze itself under the door.

Walker grabbed it by the tail and dragged it back. It reflexively wrapped its tail further around Walker's fingers, even as it tried to bite him. It could not get through Walker's gloves and was reduced to something like gumming on the fabric.

Walker continued to stare.

"Phantom?" he asked, incredulously.

The blob - Phantom? - hissed at Walker.

The little menace was a blob? He had caused this much trouble and beat Plasmius as a barely formed blob? A blob that couldn't even squish its body enough to escape Walker's grasp.

Looking like this, Phantom couldn't have formed more than a handful of months ago.

... Walker realized that he hadn't so much as heard a whisper of Phantom's existence before this year.

He sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk as Phantom continued to do his level best to chew through Walker's glove and covered his face. A baby. They'd been fighting a baby. A baby who barely knew how to be a ghost.

A spear of dread shot through what had once been Walker's gut. By ghost custom, law, and, more importantly, the rules in his own book, it was now Walker's responsibility to raise this feral little... creature.

Phantom hissed at him again.

Walker slowly lowered his head to his desk.