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Description
The following text is essentially one big spoiler if you'd rather follow the comic.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Danny Phantom in
Time's Apprentice
& Phantasia

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1:

The single press of a button; the whirl of turbines coming to life; the growing intensity of the lights surrounding him; fourteen year old Daniel James Fenton, found himself staring straight into the heart of the machine as it roared to life. Panic rising to the surface, and yet frozen, unable to run as the lights nearly blinded him, engulfing him within their rays, followed by agonizing pain.

He didn’t know what had hit him. The surge of electricity that flared out of the machine tore itself through him like a white hot knife. The scream that left his lips had drawn the attention of every member within the house; a look of sheer horror upon their faces.

The last thing he remembered seeing was his father slamming down the emergency shut off switch and his mother racing towards him before his vision faded to black. He heard the sounds of sirens, the frantic cries of his parents, his friends, until he couldn’t hear anything at all. That was the day that young Daniel died.

________________________________________________________________________________________

The calm tranquility that comes after so much pain, leaves a sort of weightlessness in its wake. The gentle fluttering of the heart coming to an end, leaving one to feel lost in a sea of warmth, floating forever downwards in its comforting embrace. That was how it had felt the moment the screaming had left his ears; his own screaming. The warm comfort lulled over him in waves, like a gentle tide that went on into forever only, it was suddenly ripped from him. Spiraling into darkness, the mass of black tendrils that engulfed him felt as if they were going to consume him, breaking him down into nonexistence.

A scream filled the air, echoing out into the darkness before toxic green eyes snapped open. The young teen’s form lurched forward in a desperate attempt to get his bearings before settling with a panted breath as he took in his surroundings. The same dark stone walls greeted him with their cold, yet comforting view, reminding him that it had just been another figment of his imagination. Yet it always felt too real for his own comfort, nagging in the back of his head that something was wrong, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Bringing a gloved hand up to settle the ruffled snowy white locks, Danny sighed, deciding to let the thoughts slide for now. He’d have to ask his guardian about it later.

It had been only four months since his death, the ill-fated day where he’d fallen prey to the contraption that was his parents inter dimensional portal. He often found himself wondering if they’d ever completed the project or given up on it as he floated through the endless corridors of his guardian’s tower. He’d only been allowed to traverse within the living world a few weeks ago, but it had only been to appease the binds that wished to drag him into his grave….

His grave… it was still so surreal and morbid to think on the fact that his body was now rotting six feet underground, and yet he was still chained to it because of his mistakes. He’d been so overwhelmed with the sense of panic at the time that he couldn’t bring himself to listen to his guardian’s words. It seemed foolish when he looked back on it, and yet, who wouldn’t freak waking up in some unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed with your arms phasing through the mattress.

He could still feel the effects of that day upon him, when he’d fallen through the rift his guardian had opened in failed attempts to reassure him. Waking upon the floor of his closet, only to find his possessions packed away and the Box Ghost attempting to horde the containers; his mother bursting down the door, weapon drawn… She only knew he was there from the EMF reader upon her belt screaming out unpleasantly, but she could not see him, could not touch him, and could not feel him. It devastated him that his own mother wasn’t able to tell he was there, and when the gun rounded on him, unseen or not, he ran.

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten out of the house at the time; though he knew now that his spectral influence left him phasing through the walls and into the open sky; it didn’t matter, he couldn’t keep himself there with the gun in his face. His own mother… and yet she didn’t even know it was him…

His mind had raced, searching for any form of comfort within his reach. How his gaze had landed upon his friends, Sam and Tucker, as they wandered down the road, downtrodden and tired. How he’d so desperately tried to speak to them, call out to them, scream at them, and yet no voice reached them. He found himself physically unable to interact with the world, his cries unheard, his touch unfelt, he was but a shadow amidst the trees. They continued walking, and continuing to deny the truth, he followed, calling out to them, begging for them to hear him; and then they stopped. A first moment of joy thumped within his core thinking he’d finally broken through the barrier between them, until they set a bouquet of flowers at his feet… His gaze followed the flora down upon the disturbed earth beneath his feet, turning with the recognition of what he was standing upon, and coming face to face with the harsh reality that stood behind him. His own named etched into the cold hard stone. His grave…

It felt like the world had crashed down around him, slowing down to a near painful speed as everything hit him with enough force to buckle his knees and leave him panting for unneeded breath. The figures of his friends turning away with tear stained faces, left him feeling broken as he cried out to them, but he was as invisible as the wind. He watched them go, unwilling and unable to move as sobs wracked his form. He was truly dead and nothing could change that.

He couldn’t remember how long he’d sat there, staring up at the sky wishing for it all to be some big lie. That it was some cruel prank of joke being played on him, and he’d turn around with someone laughing at him from behind the bushes. But nothing came; only the sheer agonizing understanding that he was alone and the world had left him with the setting sun on the horizon.

When finally deciding it was time to move on, picking himself up from his woes so as to stumble off into the darkness and remain forever unseen. He found he could not move, fixed rigid to the spot; the source of his immobility hanging tightly by the burning red chains snaking around his ankles before they started dragging him backwards towards the head of his grave. A panicked cry escaped his lips, unheard upon the winds as he clawed at the earth in attempts to get away from whatever ominous fate they were dragging him to.

It was a flicker of light that had distracted him from his struggles briefly. The dark shadow of a cloaked figure cast itself over him, scythe poised to strike before it was brought down upon him, or so he thought. A scream tore through the air, but it was not his yelp of terror, but the writhing chains that had clasped him, slithering back into the earth. A breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, released itself from his chest, but there had been no time to rest, as he found himself yanked up to his feet with the cloaked figure bearing down upon him. It was the first time he’d been scolded by his guardian, the man’s words still rang within his ears like a harsh reality, ‘Do you have any idea what you have done!?’… No, he hadn’t a clue at the time. It was only after Danny found himself dragged back to the tower where the whole mess had started that he realized what had occurred. He’d bound himself to the earth, albeit not completely, but enough to where the tug upon his core to return there became unbearable after only a few short months.

To be a bound spirit, is to be a trapped spirit; forever having to haunt the grounds in which they either lived or died, or wherever their body was laid to rest. And if their haunt is lost to time, their souls become lost and vengeful. His guardian, thankfully, had severed the ties before they had burned into him, but the effects would still remain present for many years to come. However long that may be, he was uncertain, but the damage had still been done, and he’d be forced to live out the rest of his afterlife with it until the tie had faded with the ages.

He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. There was no point dwelling on the thought of his death. Nothing was or would be able to change that fact. He just had to keep moving forward with his afterlife, and hope that someday he could see them again, if only for a brief moment.

The spectral tail that currently held place of his legs flickered ever so slightly as he floated up a narrow stairway. The flight eventually opening up to a set of double doors, to which, with a resigned sigh, he pushed open, wandering into the library that had become his second home since that fateful day.

Description
The following text is essentially one big spoiler if you'd rather follow the comic.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Danny Phantom in
Time's Apprentice
& Phantasia

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1:

The single press of a button; the whirl of turbines coming to life; the growing intensity of the lights surrounding him; fourteen year old Daniel James Fenton, found himself staring straight into the heart of the machine as it roared to life. Panic rising to the surface, and yet frozen, unable to run as the lights nearly blinded him, engulfing him within their rays, followed by agonizing pain.

He didn’t know what had hit him. The surge of electricity that flared out of the machine tore itself through him like a white hot knife. The scream that left his lips had drawn the attention of every member within the house; a look of sheer horror upon their faces.

The last thing he remembered seeing was his father slamming down the emergency shut off switch and his mother racing towards him before his vision faded to black. He heard the sounds of sirens, the frantic cries of his parents, his friends, until he couldn’t hear anything at all. That was the day that young Daniel died.

________________________________________________________________________________________

The calm tranquility that comes after so much pain, leaves a sort of weightlessness in its wake. The gentle fluttering of the heart coming to an end, leaving one to feel lost in a sea of warmth, floating forever downwards in its comforting embrace. That was how it had felt the moment the screaming had left his ears; his own screaming. The warm comfort lulled over him in waves, like a gentle tide that went on into forever only, it was suddenly ripped from him. Spiraling into darkness, the mass of black tendrils that engulfed him felt as if they were going to consume him, breaking him down into nonexistence.

A scream filled the air, echoing out into the darkness before toxic green eyes snapped open. The young teen’s form lurched forward in a desperate attempt to get his bearings before settling with a panted breath as he took in his surroundings. The same dark stone walls greeted him with their cold, yet comforting view, reminding him that it had just been another figment of his imagination. Yet it always felt too real for his own comfort, nagging in the back of his head that something was wrong, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Bringing a gloved hand up to settle the ruffled snowy white locks, Danny sighed, deciding to let the thoughts slide for now. He’d have to ask his guardian about it later.

It had been only four months since his death, the ill-fated day where he’d fallen prey to the contraption that was his parents inter dimensional portal. He often found himself wondering if they’d ever completed the project or given up on it as he floated through the endless corridors of his guardian’s tower. He’d only been allowed to traverse within the living world a few weeks ago, but it had only been to appease the binds that wished to drag him into his grave….

His grave… it was still so surreal and morbid to think on the fact that his body was now rotting six feet underground, and yet he was still chained to it because of his mistakes. He’d been so overwhelmed with the sense of panic at the time that he couldn’t bring himself to listen to his guardian’s words. It seemed foolish when he looked back on it, and yet, who wouldn’t freak waking up in some unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed with your arms phasing through the mattress.

He could still feel the effects of that day upon him, when he’d fallen through the rift his guardian had opened in failed attempts to reassure him. Waking upon the floor of his closet, only to find his possessions packed away and the Box Ghost attempting to horde the containers; his mother bursting down the door, weapon drawn… She only knew he was there from the EMF reader upon her belt screaming out unpleasantly, but she could not see him, could not touch him, and could not feel him. It devastated him that his own mother wasn’t able to tell he was there, and when the gun rounded on him, unseen or not, he ran.

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten out of the house at the time; though he knew now that his spectral influence left him phasing through the walls and into the open sky; it didn’t matter, he couldn’t keep himself there with the gun in his face. His own mother… and yet she didn’t even know it was him…

His mind had raced, searching for any form of comfort within his reach. How his gaze had landed upon his friends, Sam and Tucker, as they wandered down the road, downtrodden and tired. How he’d so desperately tried to speak to them, call out to them, scream at them, and yet no voice reached them. He found himself physically unable to interact with the world, his cries unheard, his touch unfelt, he was but a shadow amidst the trees. They continued walking, and continuing to deny the truth, he followed, calling out to them, begging for them to hear him; and then they stopped. A first moment of joy thumped within his core thinking he’d finally broken through the barrier between them, until they set a bouquet of flowers at his feet… His gaze followed the flora down upon the disturbed earth beneath his feet, turning with the recognition of what he was standing upon, and coming face to face with the harsh reality that stood behind him. His own named etched into the cold hard stone. His grave…

It felt like the world had crashed down around him, slowing down to a near painful speed as everything hit him with enough force to buckle his knees and leave him panting for unneeded breath. The figures of his friends turning away with tear stained faces, left him feeling broken as he cried out to them, but he was as invisible as the wind. He watched them go, unwilling and unable to move as sobs wracked his form. He was truly dead and nothing could change that.

He couldn’t remember how long he’d sat there, staring up at the sky wishing for it all to be some big lie. That it was some cruel prank of joke being played on him, and he’d turn around with someone laughing at him from behind the bushes. But nothing came; only the sheer agonizing understanding that he was alone and the world had left him with the setting sun on the horizon.

When finally deciding it was time to move on, picking himself up from his woes so as to stumble off into the darkness and remain forever unseen. He found he could not move, fixed rigid to the spot; the source of his immobility hanging tightly by the burning red chains snaking around his ankles before they started dragging him backwards towards the head of his grave. A panicked cry escaped his lips, unheard upon the winds as he clawed at the earth in attempts to get away from whatever ominous fate they were dragging him to.

It was a flicker of light that had distracted him from his struggles briefly. The dark shadow of a cloaked figure cast itself over him, scythe poised to strike before it was brought down upon him, or so he thought. A scream tore through the air, but it was not his yelp of terror, but the writhing chains that had clasped him, slithering back into the earth. A breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, released itself from his chest, but there had been no time to rest, as he found himself yanked up to his feet with the cloaked figure bearing down upon him. It was the first time he’d been scolded by his guardian, the man’s words still rang within his ears like a harsh reality, ‘Do you have any idea what you have done!?’… No, he hadn’t a clue at the time. It was only after Danny found himself dragged back to the tower where the whole mess had started that he realized what had occurred. He’d bound himself to the earth, albeit not completely, but enough to where the tug upon his core to return there became unbearable after only a few short months.

To be a bound spirit, is to be a trapped spirit; forever having to haunt the grounds in which they either lived or died, or wherever their body was laid to rest. And if their haunt is lost to time, their souls become lost and vengeful. His guardian, thankfully, had severed the ties before they had burned into him, but the effects would still remain present for many years to come. However long that may be, he was uncertain, but the damage had still been done, and he’d be forced to live out the rest of his afterlife with it until the tie had faded with the ages.

He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. There was no point dwelling on the thought of his death. Nothing was or would be able to change that fact. He just had to keep moving forward with his afterlife, and hope that someday he could see them again, if only for a brief moment.

The spectral tail that currently held place of his legs flickered ever so slightly as he floated up a narrow stairway. The flight eventually opening up to a set of double doors, to which, with a resigned sigh, he pushed open, wandering into the library that had become his second home since that fateful day.