The Field Trip and a Secret Identity

Chapter 17

"You must remember, you're not allowed to interfere."

"You have already done so once, and doing so again... you know how it will end."

He was a child at the moment. High up in the air, he refused to face them. He stared long and hard at the image in front of him. Sam was comforting Dora, the very distraught princess. The high ranging emotions were messing with her, teetering her too and from the edge of becoming a dragon. Had tragedy not struck her kingdom, she might have had better control over her transformation. But it had, and she didn't. He changed to an adult.

The pressures of everything weighed so heavily on his mind. He knew the ending to this story, and he knew he wouldn't mess with it. The one time had been the one time. He was a ghost millenniums old, as old as time and the Ghost Zone. Yet they doubted his intelligence. Fools.

"I know."

Eyes watched and narrowed, a picture too funny for the scene depicted. They expected so much of him but held him in the lowest regard. They all stood in a line, but it was unspoken that the ghost in the middle was to speak on their behalf.

"Yet you hold that look in your eyes."

He couldn't help it as he turned back into a child and turned to face them. "Did you just make a joke?" His face was taken up by a smirk. He knew they'd say that. He thought it was funny and just wanted to share the joke with you. The Observers on the other hand were largely unamused.

At their lack of reaction his smirk dropped to a from as he turned older, much older, and he turned back to face the screen as he rubbed at the clock imbedded into him. He tossed his staff hand to hand as he watched the glow of spirits, so much weaker than the ones of Pariah, float less powerfully into the sky. Beams of light telling of fades all over the island. Subjects of a kingdom left crippled, a population so large cut down so fast.

At the hands of a single man. A man? Ha. A monster. A disgrace to their kind. Skulker killed to find his peace. His unfinished business. This ghost killed to kill. He was an unreliable narrator at best. Yet Dan had to escape.

He felt as his back un-hunched as he changed to an adult. A hum  escaped his lips and he heard sighs come from the ghosts behind him. He vaguely wondered not for the first time how they do that when they had no mouths.

It was quiet when the Observers left and stayed that way in the tower housing only a single resident. He turned his head toward the broken thermos on the floor, but didn't let himself gaze on it long. His hood didn't shadow his glowing red eyes as he turned young and tilted his head towards the ground.

He'd seen timeline upon timeline, decision upon decision. He'd known. Dan was always going to escape. It was only a matter of when. Him leaving just long enough to let the ghost escape. It was planned. Ghost Writer will have quite the story to tell once the tale ends. It was slightly hard to tell though if he was writing the adventure as it went or making it suit him, wouldn't you agree?

On the screen, the adults of the trip watched as three teenagers pat a ghost on the back, told gentle assurances. The Fentons wondered how they were so quick to do so to a ghost they supposedly never met. The teacher knew that even of they didn't know each other, they likely would have done the same thing anyway.

A flick of his hands helped to speed the time passing by.

This path was set it stone. There was no avoiding it. Minor details will come and go, but this was no longer an unreasonable timeline. He could speed through the scene as if it were a mere commercial. In hardly five seconds he passed what could be the entirety of content of an episode on a TV show.

The kingdom was in mourning. A society reduced to half its population in seconds. Three teens talking in a back room, knowing dangers that lie just ahead. One still felt so unprepared for the battle coming but would stand up to fight anyway. As they talked, two parents tinkered, relieving their stress in the only way they knew how: building weapons to fight.

To scar.

To fade.

He aged years in a single moment and an eternity all the same time. He leaned into his staff. Dozens of pathways still played in front of him. The river of time broke off into streams and then multiplied more even then. He wondered which event will cause a flood, leaving other streams to dry to no more than a drop of water.

Dan had done well on his mission. It was a terrible deed he'd done. Fading nearly an entire civilization to wound his enemy and to grow in power. It was terrible. But he was winning. He was stronger.

He was terrifying and harmless and dangerous at the same time. Predictable and completely inexplicable at the same time.

He smiled with childish hope as he shrunk down, floating in the air with a useless but powerful emotion. How worthless was it.

Hope. Ha. Maybe with the right stream...

A teacher walked through the screen. He was looking for the teens. His students were wandering around the palace, tense. They knew something was wrong, but they didn't know how much. They watched ghosts float past them looking more than lifeless, more than if something in them died. Like as if whatever had allowed them to exist in the afterlife had been ripped from them.

The responsibilities of adulthood returned with his appearance change. He hated and loved his job. How beautifully disgusting it was.

The clone appeared to the trio. She had news. Was it bad news? Well how bad was it that most of the children of the kingdom had lived? How bad was it that most of them no longer had parents?

As ghosts, most ectoplasmic beings wondered: is there something next, of us this it? Were they lucky to have come this far?

How they hoped for something next. For every lost soul to exist in somewhere better than a life based around obsession. How the children hoped that the one that raised they was at least happy. Thousands of years old yet mentally the age of a five year old child, wishing the best for once fellow subjects.

The Princess wished to rage a war against Dan. Foolish and impulsive. She may have been hurt, but she had a kingdom to run. She couldn't afford sending more people out, especially against being too powerful for many of those in the Ghost Zone. This would only hurt her more, and it was a wise choice when she was convinced to rebuild her broken land instead.

Clockwork looked for which stream would help her raise her world back from its ashes.
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:)
Who needs Danny content when I could just lead y'all on a wild chase of what just happened  instead?

Ok but y'all got questions about this chapter I'm sorry and leave it in the comments I'll try to answer it.

SO LONG MY CHICKEN ARMY,
YOUR LEADER,

-Bella