From Scratch

Chapter 1: From Scratch

Initial impressions hold a huge value. Down the line or right at the start, there will be consequences, and it might not just end with a mere feedback. It doesn't depend solely on what you choose to wear or how many scars there are on your face. The impressions are also made beforehand. The latter is probably more important than everything else, because of how self-perpetuating this thing can be. Shall one person come up to someone with a preconceived notion and force someone to behave exactly like the rumours say, it's only going to get worse. More people would try to check the viability, only to get the response everyone, including them, expects. Maybe an example has to be made to understand everything more properly.

Take an image of a man, a boy more like. His stark white hair smeared by dirt, by green liquid that trimmed from his forehead and acted as blood. His clothes torn apart, his neon green eyes shining with a whirlwind of emotions, from the rush of adrenaline that refused to stop. His legs wobbled, but the sword that stuck between an unnamed man's ribs held the boy in place. What happens next is that you take a look around — across the terrain, littered with corpses as if someone decided to dig up every resident of a cemetery. The only difference was that they had yet to begin rotting, they were fresh. The putrid smells of blood and ectoplasm, scorched flash and melted metal mixed together, attacking the boy's senses. He could still hear them all, unable to differentiate between the yells made before the shouters were cut apart and the moans of those that were dying now.

A murderer. A monster. That's who he was claimed to be. A child that possessed enough power to wipe out all his enemies if given a slither of a chance. The one who seized more and more power as he went and who had to be stopped at all costs before he became unstoppable. They tried. They united two worlds to kill the abomination of nature as they thought him to be a cruel beast. Now he was the one whose hands were smeared in the blood of those close to them, those who possessed the courage to fight the white-haired devil. The impression was not going to die off, it never would. The hatred, the fear were going to only be amplified as years would go. How obvious, how expected, how pitiful, how...unfair.

"I warned you all..." the boy whispered, his eyes shaking, his mind on the border of madness.

Nobody could withstand the weight of everything that had transpired and walk away with no repercussions. It was a massacre he committed, against an army of thousands. Humans were well-armed with technological marvels. The undead possessed the power the living sought to mimic. They all were ready to fight and die. But that was the easy way out. To perish, to ascend to the afterlife, and what did he have? The borderline, the existence that he would have to carry on with whilst knowing that he was at fault for everything. The cheaters. He was wronged, and yet he got the shortest end of the stick that barely amounted to the size of a nickel.

He brought himself to stand on his own. The sword was left to rest where it was. The boy looked down on his palms, bitten by the rabid monsters of this world, then his legs, cut and burnt numerous times. He didn't know how long he had been in a trance. But what he could see was that the wounds were fading, and his body was working at its fullest to mend the broken bones and burnt skin. No matter what he did, no matter what everyone tried, he still grasped for his existence. Why? Wasn't it better to just raise the blade and pierce his only part that could not be healed — the core containing his entire energy? Was it cowardice or courage to refuse to take his own life? What could be considered an easy answer, an easy way?

A croak. The boy looked directly at its source. A creature that looked like a human while not being one — a ghost with green skin. With wild white hair and a lab coat to match. Ironic how someone so familiar to the boy ended up being butchered and trapped under a crumbled piece of machinery that he couldn't even phase through. The boy kneeled before the ghost sprawled on the ground, grabbed him by the hair, and stared directly into the swollen face of the loudest spectre imaginable.

"P-please... ghost child, Phantom, have some mercy," he pleaded, "I swear by the Ancients, you will never hear from me again."

No more empty bravado, no screams of triumph.

"You mean the ones who are six feet under, Technus?" The boy nodded in the direction of the tall castle in the distance. "The promise sounds empty to me. I gave you all the chance to walk away..." he pulled the man's hair, causing the ghost to scream, "Did any single soul listen to me? WHY SHOULD I LISTEN?!"

The yell resonated across the entire domain. Phantom smashed the ghost's head against the ground. His white boot soon left its imprint on the downed spectre's face.

"Please..." the begging was merely a raspy whisper. "I'll tell you...everything."

"I know everything there is to know. Some prophecy about me made you all go batshit insane and try to murder me!"

"It's not all..." coughed Technus, "The one who made it...was Clockwork."

Phantom froze."Clockwork? Are you meaning to tell me that... "

"He put us all together...told us what to do...ever since you turned into a halfa. He is the Master of Time. How could we doubt him?"

"And the humans? Answer!" Phantom grabbed his neck and demanded to know more.

"I don't know...we never cooperated enough..."

The half ghost's look showed his readiness to kill the ghost in his hands — just squish that neck in a single move. But then the green glow subsided, the boy let out a sigh and stopped himself. He was wounded, but the injuries healed. His mind was shaken, but he wasn't going to let the weakness overtake him. Not until the main culprit was dead. He would go and finish everything in one day. If only he...

"Reached my dwelling, Daniel?"

The boy spun around, his joints aching at the sudden and quick move. Before him stood another ghost. He emanated a presence that was most imposing and screamed danger and power. A being with blue skin and red eyes with no pupils, dressed in a purple cloak, whose chest was void of anything except multiple gears and clocks, and also a glowing orb that seemingly floated there. Even in his hand, on which there were multiple watches, was a staff with clocks on top.

"It will prove to be cumbersome."

"You... all along, it was your doing." Phantom clenched his fists, hunched from tiredness and pain.

"Yes, Daniel. It was. Your anger is expected, like everything else. I know every question you have, so let us go over all of this. My motives are my own. Just like I saved you and your family years ago, I am taking it all now. By your own hands, no less..."

The teen's eyes glowed with rage. His strength kept coming to him as more and more raw emotions flowed inside his core.

"And they call me a monster."

"You are, Daniel. You are a danger to not only this world, but every other you will touch. And as it is my job to maintain the balance, you will perish. Look around you, this was a mere demonstration of what you are capable of. Most of your wounds were made when you tried to be careful, tried to run, but once your true nature emerged, you ravaged everyone present. Even your own family."

"You turned everyone against me..." Danny's voice was small, "I had no choice..."

"In the end, everyone's own life matters more than the other's. I've seen enough to be convinced of that. All those tirades about defending those who were close to you, for what? To kill them yourself without your godfather's aid. You are a monster, Daniel," Clockwork declared calmly.

"Why did you do all of this?" Asked Danny, tears welling up in his eyes, "Why didn't you kill me yourself before? Why all of this? To make a point? WHY?"

"I am not obligated to answer you more than I want to."

"Oh, I get it. You are just someone who enjoys seeing people suffer. You lived all these years, knowing everything in advance. You were bored and decided to have a field day at my expense... "

"Perhaps someone who died here was a future threat as well, and I simply decided to use one problem to deal with another," the ghost shrugged. "In any case, you have outlived your usefulness."

The staff in the ghost's hands turned into a scythe. Phantom collected his power in his hand, dodged the strike that followed, and then a blast of green light was launched right at the opponent. Clockwork merely sidestepped, glancing behind himself, hearing the rumble and seeing a tower of the distant castle blow into pieces. That was precisely why the boy was dangerous. If this teetering on the edge of power could do it...

"I think you are forgetting why you will never be able to win against me. Let me remind you. Time OUT!"

Everything around seemed to freeze. The fire no longer flickered, the blood dripping into a puddle was stuck in the air, and the teen himself froze in his spot. That was the main power of the ghost. Time itself obeyed him, and everyone was helpless before him. Clockwork slowly approached the boy, who could not move a muscle.

"I believe we should end this senseless charade right..."

Then, for the first time in his existence, the Time Master saw something and experienced a shock. Right before his eyes, Phantom moved his head to watch the approaching scythe. To him, it felt like moving through sleep paralysis, but he wasn't going to stop. Not now.

"You...can resist my power?" He asked. If he could move, he also had a sense of his surroundings. Clockwork immediately calmed down and said, "Even so, this will not be enough, Daniel. Can't you see why I should stop you before anything happens? If you manage to resist me, you will become unstoppable and dangerous to all. Thus, I shall make sure it does not happen, "the ghost raised his scythe,"Farewe..."

Danny could only watch as his life was about to get taken away. And yet he felt...strangely calm. Perhaps this was a way out. He didn't even have to decide. He had only one regret. That the man before him was going to go on with his pathetic, vile existence. He did not close his eyes, despite being able to do so. Call him petty, but Phantom was not about to give the man the pleasure of seeing his desperation and pain. At least this satisfaction, he would deny it. And only the opened eyes allowed him to see something he hadn't expected to witness.

It happened too quickly. Too suddenly. Before Clockwork could make the final swing, someone, someTHING pierced the ghost's chest. Right through the core. It looked like a hand, unseen, as if it were made out of darkness itself and surrounded by a purple glow. Clockwork's expression was that of shock, terror. The hand that did it dropped its glass-like pieces on the ground, before retreating and vanishing, as Danny could not see anything behind the Time Master, who tried to look there and saw more than the teen did.

"How...couldn't I...know it?"

Clockwork collapsed on his knees, but there was nothing behind him. Danny didn't have time to wonder. He was released from the trap of time, as it resumed its normal flow. He saw the ghost's scythe that turned back into a staff, and his mind came to a decision. With a burst of stamina, Phantom lunged forward, grabbed the artefact, and then caved it right at the bastard's head. Something snapped in the boy's mind and he swung the staff like a bat again. And again. He smashed into the ghost's cranium over and over again, all his fury accumulated over the years making its way into his hands, which, after the staff snapped, kept doing their work, hitting the downed ghost as the teen roared. Everyone who was still alive could only watch in horror as the most powerful ghost in existence was down in what felt like a couple of seconds.

Finally, the muscles betrayed the teen. He stopped his merciless attack, looking at the results-a vomit inducing mess.

Before he could even think about what happened, his own body finally gave up. Danny collapsed on the ground and lost his consciousness. The last thing he remembered was a distant voice, a woman's whisper, but the words turned into a blur.


-Linebreak-

When Danny woke up, he was unsure of how to proceed. Naturally, one would open their eyes and look around. But he just didn't want to. Yes, he was lying on what felt like a multitude of rocks. But it didn't matter. He hadn't slept at all for quite some time, so he took what he got. Slowly but surely, the past events came flooding back into his mind.

'Oh, yeah. I killed a damn god,' he thought.

His sarcasm came back. He noticed it and embraced the return of his coping mechanism. It showed that he was willing to cope. Maybe it was just the sense of triumph that lifted his spirits and made the teen forget about the atrocity he had committed. Somehow...made him apathetic. No, the latter wasn't because of that. Most probably, he himself had grown apathetic to what he did to them, and it was just adrenaline speaking. This thought made the teen uneasy, but that was a fact. Besides, the people he valued most died weeks ago. And when people try to kill you, you lose most of the attachment for some time. Whatever made him sleep well at night, Danny decided. As long as his mind didn't collapse on himself, he was fine with it.

In any case, he was glad it was supposedly over. Nobody killed him in his sleep, after all.

Then Phantom's face twisted in a grimace as even more memories went through the floodgates, heralded by a monstrous headache, the memories of where he actually was before falling unconscious, the memories of that strange being that actually damaged the Time Master. He was just the one to beat up the dying man. Pathetic, if you ask the teen. But it was obvious that the others didn't see anything. If they lived to tell the tale.

Finally, Danny opened his eyes, and before him was the ceiling that could use some repairs. The plaster was covered in cracks all over. The teen saw that he was lying on a bed that just so happened to be so uncomfortable. He knew where he was. It was his home—the very castle that was ravaged so constantly that repairing the rooms was of little point. Still, he wondered how he got here. As if answering his question, the doors opened, and a green glowing skeleton walked in. He didn't say a word, only kneeling and bowing its head.

"Of course," Danny muttered, "the only loyal servants are the mindless ones, huh?"

He lifted the dirty covers and examined his body. With the wounds healed, only a plethora of scars remained. But he could move and was still kicking. That's all that mattered. Yes. He was still alive. In his own sort of way. Danny was ready to laugh, but it couldn't come. What if he had done something irreversible? What if the universe collapsed without Clockwork being there? He might have been an evil, conceited bastard, but he might have been essential to how the universe functioned. But then Phantom simply concluded that he didn't care. If anything, he would just sit on the throne and welcome the imminent collapse. But until then...

Suddenly, a single gust of air came out of his mouth, as if he was standing in the middle of a cold tundra.

"Intruders..." Danny hissed. "Don't attack them just yet. We will have a talk."

The skeletons shared their consciousness, the order was passed to everyone.

Phantom tossed away the covers, before the rings of moonlight appeared on his chest. They split in two, travelled up and down before his half-naked body was dressed in something decent — a simple black outfit, pants and white boots. He didn't need any armour to impose his demands. He went through the crumbling halls of the castle that looked more like ruins, open to every passing wind. Despite everything: crumbled stairs, collapsed corridors, he quickly reached the central hall, the throne room, which remained relatively unscathed, and from there, a tiny hallway that led outside ended with a huge doorway, for the heavy doors were no longer held by hinges. The light breeze flew into his stoic face, pushing away the stark locks and letting him see the new arrivals. They were numerous, of all shapes and forms, with the absence of mortals. And yet, for a change, they were unarmed. Every ghost can feel emotions. And right now, the reek of fear could be almost tangible.

"I do not like visitors," Phantom announced loudly. "Why are you here? Certainly not to try again?" His green eyes shone menacingly.

One of the ghosts stepped forward. It was a green-skinned bald creature with only a single enormous eye. He wore yellow and white robes that were longer than his feet. He outstretched his clawed hands further, before getting on the knees, hitting his head on the floor and using those for support.

"We beg of you, Lord Phantom, have mercy on our world!" It screeched.

Now wasn't that a surprise?

"It is late to ask for that, you insipid bastard. I asked you for the same thing, didn't I? I asked you ALL. But...it seems I am at fault for not getting the point across sooner. Had I known that all it takes is one particular ghost, we could have avoided THAT."

He pointed at the spot behind them — at the scorched battlefield that was yet to be cleaned.

"I hope that me letting you all go is enough to testify to my lack of desire for conquest. Get lost. I wish to be left alone. That's all I ever asked and what everyone here wishes for themselves. Are we in agreement?" He leaned forward, expecting an answer. And at this, everyone before him kneeled.

"Yes! There will never be a single sentient ghost here except for you! We swear!"

Phantom nodded. "Good. And make sure to let humans know. Now get out of my sight."

Turning around, he returned to the sanctuary of his new home. And as the doors shut behind him, so did the last connecting thread with his past. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to breath. He allowed a couple unwilling tears to go down his cheeks. He allowed himself to curl on the floor, his back against the cold brick wall.

It was finally over.


-Linebreak-

In retrospective, perhaps it was not something he had to wish for. He had all the power in the world of the undead, and what did he use it for? To sit on a throne all day long, it seemed. He enjoyed silence, like any ghost did. To be left alone to dwell on their eternal existence. For Danny, it meant endless reminiscence of the events that transpired over the last few months, but it also helped him come to terms with his situation and then grow to hate it. Because he was not a full ghost, he was a halfa — a hybrid between the living and the dead. He was cursed to the way of existence of one of his parts, while the other loathed it. His human half sought something he didn't have and couldn't understand. And it made him feel...empty.

The conditions he set were simple, and for once, everyone decided to oblige. He was completely alone in the vast halls of the towering stronghold. At first, he managed to keep his mind occupied; he tried to make the place more liveable. He got rid of the corpses, he ordered the repairs to the most crucial parts of the castle, but once it was all over, there was nothing he could do to keep his mind off crucial things. And what did he do? Ultimately, after another month of solitude, he chose the easiest path — to tuck everything under the carpet, as if nothing had transpired. He was satisfied with it. His human part was good for that, as their psyches were much more layered than those of the undead. The latter could be smart and reasonable, but some things, like regret or willful ignorance, were something foreign. He could just try to forget it all, to move on...but it was easier said than done.

He rummaged through the library of the Ghost King, but the letters turned into a mess. He tried to get some sleep, but the nightmares wouldn't let him. And what was there to do? To sit on the throne and hate his entire life. He wondered if that's how the tyrants of the past were made. How his predecessor, Pariah Dark, turned into a power-hungry monster. With the entire world expecting, waiting for the 'King' to snap, it was a straightforward invitation to give them what they wanted. At this thought, the teen threw one leg over another, and looked at the piece of jewellery on his finger. It gleamed with wicked green light. Two crimson gems glowed like a pair of eyes. The symbol of his power, which, along with the crown that was absent from his head, increased his power tenfold.

He never asked for it. He had to kill the king who was threatening his home. The teen had neither the knowledge nor the lust for power to do so for his own selfish gain. And seeing where he was now, he caught himself in the thought that he had better leave the people to their fate. He, of all beings, could just run off and find a hole to hide in. And who knows, perhaps Pariah would have spared some of the lives that Phantom eventually took? At first, he cared deeply for those he had to kill, but as the numbers grew exponentially, he found little room in his heart for everyone around him. But the consciousness was not easy to get away from.

Unlike this world.

That's what he found out several minutes later. All he did was close his tired eyes.


-Linebreak-

"Hey, runt, wake up!"

Before Danny could process what was said, he got splashed with water. He immediately stood on his legs, his eyes darting all over the place. He appeared to be...in some sort of an alley. It was damp and covered in shadows. The buildings around, with as little as they showed from this side, had something European about them. Apparently, he was not in America anymore. Or in the barren wasteland.

"Did you hit your head or something, kid?"

Danny finally looked at the reason for his clothes being soaking wet. It was a very buff man with a brown sleeveless jacket and green hair, of all things. In his mouth he had a single straw. He was a human, and that was the last thing he expected to see at his home.

"The hell is your problem?" Phantom growled. He was about to ask what he was doing in his castle, but it was clear as day that he wasn't there anymore.

If the man didn't attack him or run off, Phantom figured that it was better not to give him any reasons to just yet. His mind was set only on this at the moment.

"My problem? Your drunk ass is scaring the customers."

"I am not 'drunk'. I was just sitting here. Well, 'here' is a broad term. Could you tell me where I am?"

"You serious?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"Those were rough times."

"You are in Lugnica. The marketplace, to be exact. Sheesh, and he says he is sober."

Without waiting for an answer, the man just walked off. Danny gave him a small glare, half tempted to burn the edges of his stupid wide pants. But he was helpful, despite being rude, so the teen would take it. Sitting on the nearest box, Phantom began thinking. Unless there was some portal that decided to suddenly pop up right beneath him, someone carried him here, to this 'Lugnica' place. He wasn't the best student there was, but he was fairly confident that there wasn't any such place on Earth. The clear blue sky, as opposed to the dark green of the Zone, added to the conclusion that it was no longer the land of the dead. That led him to the only possible conclusion.

So he sighed and got up. "Won't know until I check, I guess."

As he exited the alleyway, Danny was assaulted by the bright morning sun. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he took a look around. Now there was no room for doubt in his mind: it was another world. He came to that conclusion for several reasons. Reason one: Earth didn't have any lizardmen or genuine half animals gallivanting around. Reason two: the Earth had no carriages pulled by other reptiles. The final reason was that the entire surrounding area seemed backwards in comparison to the world Phantom was accustomed to. And upon confirming his suspicion, the teen grinned toothily.

'This is the world that doesn't know shit about me, where I am free to do whatever I want! Clockwork is dead and nobody is there to stop me! Alright, the last part sounded downright evil.'

Danny laughed. His happiness threatened to spill over, and everyone who passed him could see that. But it subsided soon after. Then realisation dawned upon him. He couldn't see his face, but his clothes remained the same as they were in the castle. Which, in turn, implied that he stood out from the crowd. That would explain the looks the people were giving him. After all, he did look like a noble who was worse for the wear. There was a fountain nearby that suited his next goal just fine. Danny approached it and peaked over the clear water. A head full of messy black hair, long, unkempt and dirty, stared back at him, almost covering the blue eyes of the most vibrant icy shade. He looked more human now. There was no otherworldly glow, for starters. So his form did change during sleep. But that's not what seemed important at the moment.

He hadn't been paying attention to his appearance at all. What would he have done if nobody had been there to see him? Nonetheless, Danny had a newfound willingness to change that.

What a brilliant idea. Why hadn't he thought of going to another world? It was so simple, so ingenious!

There was one problem, however.

He had no money.

'Hm...Pickpocketing is always an option,' Danny began to think. 'Turn invisible, approach, phase the hand inside a pocket — easy tactic. Just enough to get some breakfast. No need to be so conscious about it, Phantom. You will find a proper income eventually.'

He wasn't the type to keep a silver spoon in his mouth, and he was fine with that. After all, he wasn't born into the title, being less than a blimp on the radar. Yes, he was assumed to be the most powerful ghost around, and he was a king atop of that. But now he would rather forget all his titles, even if it meant scraping by for a while. It was literally a clean slate. It did feel wrong to start it off with a low-level theft, but what would you do? Life was an uphill battle, and it would take some time for him to get a comfortable living. When in Rome, speak like a Roman, they say. And at that moment, 'Romans' in this metaphor were vagabonds and thieves. Going forward with the plan required him to be less of an eyesore and more of a speck unworthy of extra attention even when in the visible spectrum.

That's why Danny also considered pawning off his clothes and buying cheaper ones, thus saving the rest of money for food. It looked almost comedic how penniless the sharply dressed man was. What a bother. But this part of the plan was better than the following one. It's not like the outfit would be gone forever. After asking around the locals, he learned where he could find a buyer. With a clear destination in mind, the seventeen-year-old made his way through the streets.

The first glance gave him little information. Now, his eyes wide and his mind hungry for knowledge about the place he wanted to settle in, he examined everything throughly. He had a question about whether or not this world had magic. It was a staple of the genre. There were some robed people that could pass as mages, but it was more of a speculation based on appearance, the very same faulty logic that had wronged him a lot of times before. Danny decided to just wait or probably ask for some pointers in a tavern. To him, it was like planning a long-awaited party. Every little detail of the schedule made him giddy. With his power, he could achieve a lot in the field of magic, if there was such. Yes, it's not like he had sworn off his powers, granted by his undead half. Since it brought him so much trouble, it was only natural to milk it for all it's worth. But of course, world conquest was not what he wanted. That's precisely what he ran away from.

The streets were surprisingly clean for a city that was so backwards in terms of development. It was a sight to see, and Phantom was confident that the locals thought so too. The roads were also bustling with carts as if they were modern cars in the middle of lunch break. It was difficult to cross the road with how many there were. Then Danny passed some sort of archway, leading to what probably was the residence of the guy in charge of the city and probably the whole country. The pearly castle far ahead was a testament to this. Atop of the archway rested a diamond-shaped coat of arms (or, at least, Danny assumed that that was it) — two dragons wrapping their hands around the red gem in the middle. Obviously, it was a replica. There were no rubies that big. Chuckling to himself at this thought, Danny stopped his ogling and continued forward.

His stomach's grumbling felt like a whip of a slaveowner who wished for him to go faster, and Phantom obeyed his cruel master. Finally, he found a tailoring shop. There, a sleazy-looking individual quickly approached him, maybe too closely.

"Good morning, sir. How may I be of service?"

"Do you buy clothes?"

"Oh, you are one of those who goes straight to business. As a matter of fact, I do. Young Anastasia works hard so that our capital is well-stocked on the best goods. Are you one of her agents?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I were," Danny pointed out. "Say, how much will you give for the clothes like these that I am wearing?"

"Pawn shop is in the district of beggars," the seller's mood took a plummet from the seems. "Although...they do look interesting. May I?"

Danny nodded, and at the very same moment the tailor took his hand. The man used his spare one to rub the material between his fingers.

"Hmm...such softness, a quality black dye..." Then he examined the buttons, "I'm not a jeweller, but it does look like real silver... but those holes are going to affect the price, also, since I don't have that material..."

And then came the pants. The tailor pulled two parts away lightly, "Sturdy."

After he got up, the man began to think, "Pardon me, but you don't look like a person to own these fine pieces of clothing. I don't need any trouble with the law. "

"They're mine," Danny said, narrowing his eyes, "and I'm selling them because I need some extra money and more discreet clothes right now. Caught the memo?"

"A...memo?"

Phantom sighed. He may have understood the local language, but slang was not a universal thing.

"You got what I mean, right?"

"Oh, you would also like to buy some of my own clothes, huh? I think I have something more casual, yes."

"Neat, " Danny clicked his tongue."Now how much are you paying for mine?"

"Yeah, that. I believe that these are worth around fifty silvers. That's more expensive than some magical artefacts, so I'm not raising it any further. Don't even try."

'It's not like I can bargain,' Danny thought. 'He makes it sound like that's a lot. 'I guess I have no choice but to take this offer.'

"Fine, have it your way."

In the end, he had thirty coins on him. The other twenty were spent on the new clothes that were more natural to the area. He may not have looked like a noble, but a decently well-off burgher. That already made him less suspicious. His new outfit consisted of a black turtleneck over a high-quality shirt. The thick brown pants were held by a leather belt. From what little information he had, Phantom could rent a room and get the food that wasn't taken after a fight to death with street rats. That was a good start. What to do next was another thing entirely.

A satisfied stomach made him surprisingly more lenient with the law. Selling everything he had but his underwear was probably an undignified act, but it made him reconsider his course of action. In his thoughts, Danny didn't notice how he entered yet another, one of many, alleyways. And he wouldn't have noticed, he would have exited it in a blink, but fate, vile as it was, decided to toss something his way.

"Oi, oi. Look who we got here."

Phantom stopped in his tracks. 'Just when I was about to become a model citizen.'

"Hey, we are talking to you!"

Danny turned around and pointed at himself, "Me?"

He examined his 'ambushers', if that was a proper word. It was an interesting trio of thugs. Like in some kids' stories, each had one particular trait worthy of a nickname. One was a tiny man with brown hair. He barely reached the belts of his companions. Another was a thin-looking guy that looked like someone who might rape unsuspecting girls in places like this. He was the only one armed with knives. Then there was a textbook definition of a thug — just a wall of muscles.

"Do you see anyone else around here, dumbass?"

"Sorry, didn't see you there, Shorty," Danny grinned.

"I'm a dwarf!"

"Really?" The teen's look turned exaggeratedly and comically thoughtful. "Where is your beard then?"

"You think it is time for jokes?" The Thin asked, waving his knife. "Hand over all you've got."

"Now that is pitiful."

"Huh?"

"You should sound more threatening!" Danny scolded them, approaching the vagabonds without any fear. "Your buff buddy should do the talking," he whispered to the bandit and pointed at the giant. "Or you could enrich your vocabulary. This might help, too. Don't be generic."

"The hell is wrong with you?" The skinny jumped away from the boy who appeared to be missing a screw."You want to die so badly?"

Phantom snapped his fingers, letting a small green flame dance around his fingertips. "Nah, I'll pass. Crap, this comeback was the worst," he muttered.

The fear on the bandits' faces was evident. "Shit, he is a mage! I didn't sign up for this!" The thuggish one yelled.

Then a small surge of emerald light emerged from Danny's pointing finger, flying right past the ear of the thin one, who stood in the middle. It hit the wall and the impact kicked a couple of bricks out of their places. Further escalation was prevented. Danny had some conflicting feelings about how easily they were scared but decided not to dwell on it. It still felt good being a little shit. He missed that a lot. Before the situation could change for worse or better, a blur of yellow and brown rounded the corner and ran past him, almost knocking the teen down. He could swear it was a girl. Then the blonde kid with a black ribbon did stop for a second, rambled a quick half-hearted and insincere apology and then ran off, jumped on some crates and got on the roof of one of the buildings.

"What's that about?" Danny mumbled, not paying attention to the bandits. They took it as a chance to either attack or run off. Due to pride or stupidity, you pick one, they opted for a chance of retaliation against the smug bastard.

The Thin was the first. He lunged forward, swinging his knives. From how he did it, desperately attempting to land at least a single hit, Danny could figure that the man was an amateur. No sooner had he come to this conclusion than he turned to face the man and dodged both swings. Humans were different from ghosts or spirits. They were slower, unable to land a hit if not for a voluntary handicap of not phasing through the weapons. In response, Phantom kicked the man's leg, causing the thin man to lose his footing and receive a punch in the face. Then Danny went for the neck and grabbed it. Out of breath, Thin dropped his weapons.

"Alright. It's official. You guys can't even steal a purse from an old lady."

"What's going on here?"

Everyone looked towards the exit from the alleyway. There they saw an unusual woman. Phantom examined her attentively, forgetting about two other thugs he had to beat and the one he was holding. He found himself impressed for a moment by the beautiful features of her face, her bright light purple eyes. Her long silver hair reached the waist, and on top of her head there was a white flower. Danny was no florist, so he couldn't tell which one it was. Dressed in a white and purple outfit that was a strange mixture of a robe and a dress, she looked like a fairytale princess. Her appearance as a girl in her late teens only added to the image. The thought made Danny laugh a little, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What are you laughing about?" She asked.

"Nothing. An inside joke. There is a robbery in process, madam. Don't worry, just move along," Phantom smiled.

Sadly, his jests were not universally understood. She was about to go, but then stopped.

"I cannot overlook a crime in process. You must leave these people alone."

To sound more threatening, the lady suddenly summoned an ice shard. For now, it hung in the air. Menacingly. So she was a mage.

"Yeah, right after...wait a second..."

The bandits realised an opportunity, resisting an urge to smirk evilly. The thug and the dwarf ran behind her, and the sense of pity Phantom had felt towards them turned into contempt.

"Please help us!"

"We were just on our way when this crazed lunatic attacked us!"

"And he took our money!"

Phantom glared at them, a gesture that only fuelled the misconceptions. He tossed the thin bandit towards his friends, and the man scurried back with a whimper.

"Your money? Well, this bag with silver has been hanging off my belt for the last hour after I sold my only set of clothes. And with these coins, I ate some delicious pie down that street... I am not helping my case, am I?"

"He is mocking us!" Shorty exclaimed.

The lady narrowed her eyes, "You won't return it?"

"Nope. 'Cause it is mine."

"Then I am sorry to do this."

The girl launched the shard of ice, and the following happened in a blink. Phantom outstretched his palm, and a green wall of light blocked the strike. The shard shattered into pieces that flew everywhere, and in the tight space of the alleyway it was as dangerous as a hand grenade. Nobody got harmed, thankfully, but the surprise of the girl was evident. The bandits finally decided that the effort was not worth the questionable gain when there could potentially be a battle involving magic.

"Look, princess, I swear the money is mine. These are the robbers who simply miscalculated the odds."

"How do you prove it?"

"The supposed owners chose to run away," Danny deadpanned and pointed behind her. And she actually turned, making a surprised gasp.

"For future reference. I could actually harm you while you were looking the other way. But yeah, you were used, lady."

"Oh, I am so sorry! I misjudged and could have harmed you!" She rambled, looking at the floor in shame.

Phantom couldn't help but chuckle. It was obvious that the girl just wanted to do what's best. But his amusement was cut short when a familiar gust of cold air escaped his mouth. His eyes darted to an amulet on her neck, to a green twinkling gem.

"That's...fine. Mind answering a very blunt question? We'll call it even then."

"Ehm...alright," she responded slowly and cautiously.

"Is there a spirit inside that thing?"

"Oops. Looks like I got ousted," A high voice sounded, before out of thin air a creature popped.

The spirit in question looked like a cat. A rather small one, fitting on a shoulder, with grey and white soft-looking fur. Its icy-green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Hey there. Name's Puck. I am really sorry for her attitude. She should learn how to judge people."

"Puck! It's not that," the girl responded, "He looked just like they did. Except he was the one doing the beating."

"I'm still here," called Danny, not sure how to feel about her words. He eventually decided to talk with the floating cat, "So, you are a spirit?"

"Yep! How did you know I was there?"

Phantom shrugged, "I've had that ability for a while. A spirit or ghost comes near—I feel it. "

"That's neat!"

"Yeah. At least those can't sneak up on me. Anyway..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I guess we will just go do our things now."

The girl seemed to remember something important and urgent, "No! I've got distracted and we've lost her!"

"Don't worry, we'll find her eventually," Puck reassured.

"Are you by any chance talking about a blonde girl with black ribbon?"

Both the girl and her spirit looked at the half ghost. He took it as a yes.

"She did pass here, but took to the roofs. If she jumps down at some point, or you can't get up there, you won't catch up. "

The girl's spirits hit their lowest during the entire conversation, but she immediately bounced back with a determined expression.

"I have to find her. And I can't leave the city without what she took."

"And that would be..."

Silence settled for a moment, before she and Puck exchanged glances. They were contemplating whether or not to tell him. Eventually, the girl turned back to the teen and spoke again.

"I'm sorry, but we just met and..."

Phantom hummed. Now that he thought of it, that thief had something shiny in her hand. Maybe that's what the girl was after. Giving her another once over, he came to a conclusion. She did look quite wealthy, if he was to help her, then it could land him a proper job or a monetary reward. It was a perfect opportunity for him.

"'Tis fine. It's only natural. But I'd like to help, if you don't mind."

"Huh?" She looked at him in surprise. "I don't think it is a good idea."

"Really?"

"Don't worry, she is just being stubborn," Puck flew closer and whispered in the boy's ear.

"I heard that, Puck. That's not it. It's just...is it really okay to ask for your help after this mishap?"

Danny huffed lightly, "I told ya, we are good. Besides, you are not asking. I am the one wanting to tag along. The truth is, you will spend a lot of time searching for her. And if she is any good, she will pawn off the thing the moment an opportune moment comes. So..." he grinned and leaned forward, "You need me, princess."

"P-princess?" She squeaked.

"You certainly do look the part. Hence the nickname."

There was some tension that seemed to have come and gone in a moment. Weird. She wasn't a real princess, was she? The girl seemed thoughtful.

"And you can help?"

Danny recalled the seemingly insignificant comment of the tailor. 'Pawn shops are in the district of beggars.'

"There is a district for the impoverished, correct?" He put a hand on his chin.

"Yes, I think so. It's just that I am not exactly local."

"This will be our best bet, I think. Usually, districts like this have a high crime rate. A perfect place to sell stolen goods, nobody will notice."

"And...what if the thief is not there? There must be several of those."

"I think that the boy has a good idea," put in Puck. "It really is better than looking around just asking people."

"She is a thief," Danny added, "Not a celebrity that has their face even in a pubescent virgin's bedroom. What are the odds that someone recognises her?"

The girl seemed to contemplate the options. Phantom did wonder why she was so unwilling to enlist help. Maybe it was him that was a problem. That idea was even more depressing than it sounded. He did try to sound trustworthy, but it probably came out as annoying and suspicious. Sure, his favour wasn't just a kindness of the heart; he needed money in the long run, but he wasn't planning anything bad or illegal. Finally, the silver-haired girl sighed.

"Very well. It will be a good thing to search together. Let's go, Puck."

Danny and the spirit were about to follow her, but the former was stopped by the cat, who floated in front of his face.

"You know, you smell funny."

Danny raised an eyebrow, "Now that's a rude thing to say."

"Not in that way," Puck snickered, "I meant in a more...magical way. Do you have a deal with a spirit?"

Phantom seemed to consider the answer. "In a way. My affairs with the likes of you are a bit...different."

"Now that's not ominous at all."

The boy chuckled, "Relax. I'm not forcing them into slavery or anything. They just try to kill me maybe too often."

Puck blinked, but seeing the distant look on the teen's face, decided not to pry into it.

"If you say so. But be warned. Lay a hand on my companion and you will have to face me. And the stab on the back won't work."

"Then we both can rest easily."

"Hey, are you coming?" The girl called.

"Yep," both of the speakers finally decided to follow her.

Danny's mind was naturally very curious. This very curiosity killed both the cat and him at some point, but it wouldn't stop him now. For some reason, the thought still made him uneasy. He just hoped this little act of compassion wouldn't escalate into something much worse.


A.N. That is one stupid idea that dawned upon me. I was really tempted to stop writing it, because I considered Subaru to be the perfect protagonist for the original novel. If my story has some readers, I may expand on it somehow.