[Third Person Pov]
The Ghost Zone's swirling green mists seemed to thicken around the spectral galleon as the battle intensified. Danny and the Aqua-Family looked utterly worse for wear. Their once-impressive uniforms were torn and singed, hanging in ragged strips from their bodies. Deep gashes wept ecto-blood and crimson alike, while ugly burns blistered across exposed skin. Exhaustion weighed heavily on every movement, yet none of them faltered.
The Flying Dutchman moved with unnatural agility that defied his bulky, barnacle-covered physique. Despite gripping both cutlasses, he lunged forward and unleashed a brutal barrage of punches directly into Danny's face. Each impact landed like a cannonball, snapping Danny's head side to side and forcing thick spurts of green blood from his mouth. With a final, vicious kick to the chest, Danny was sent hurtling backward through the air.
Jackson Hyde dove in at the last second, catching his new friend in strong arms. "Danny! Are you okay?" he asked, voice thick with concern as he steadied him.
Danny raised a trembling thumbs-up, forcing a weak, bloody grin. "I'm spectacular," he rasped. "Put me back in, coach. I can take him."
Arthur swung his golden trident in a wide, powerful arc aimed at the pirate's midsection, but the weapon simply phased straight through the Dutchman's ghostly form. The captain retaliated instantly, cracking the heavy hilt of one cutlass across Arthur's jaw with a sickening thud. Before the King of Atlantis could recover, twin beams of searing ghost energy erupted from the Dutchman's eyes, blasting him backward. Arthur crashed hard into Mera, sending both tumbling across the slick deck in a heap of limbs and weapons.
"Yer as persistent as the barnacles on me hull!" the Flying Dutchman roared, his voice booming like thunder across the Ghost Zone. "Stay down, ye filthy landlubbers!" He thrust out a massive fist, unleashing a devastating ghost ray that screamed toward Arthur.
But Danny suddenly blurred into position, planting himself directly in front of the Atlantean king. The full force of the energy beam slammed into the center of his chest. "Danny!" Arthur cried out in alarm as the half-ghost slid backward, slamming into him. Smoke curled from the blackened impact site on his suit.
Arthur gripped Danny's shoulder. "Are you okay, son?"
Danny's eyes snapped open—brighter, greener, and glowing with renewed power. A feral grin spread across his face as he wiped glowing blood from his lips. "I'm more than fine." He had absorbed the raw spectral energy, converting it into fuel that surged through his core like liquid fire. "Now it's time for the counterattack!"
With his recharged strength, Danny concentrated and painstakingly split off a duplicate of himself. The second Danny hovered beside him, both speaking in perfect unison. "Fun fact about me—people aren't the only things I can overshadow."
The duplicate shot forward and phased directly into Arthur's trident. The weapon flared with brilliant ghostly energy, crackling with power that made the air hum.
"Whoa," Arthur exclaimed, gripping the now-enhanced trident tightly as green sparks danced along its prongs.
Danny turned to him, breathing heavily. "You heard Robin. Think you can hold on long enough for me to do what I need to do?"
"Go!" Arthur encouraged, planting his feet as the Dutchman charged with murderous intent.
"You're not going anywhere except to an early grave!" the pirate bellowed, swinging both cutlasses in a deadly whirlwind. Arthur met the assault head-on, the empowered trident blocking each strike in a shower of crackling energy that lit up the entire deck.
Seizing the distraction, a ring of bright white light formed around Danny's waist. In a flash, he transformed back into his human form—black hair, blue eyes, and a simple domino mask over his face. The sudden shift stunned everyone watching, even the ghostly crew. Danny flashed a defiant grin, stuck both middle fingers up at the Flying Dutchman, and stuck out his tongue before phasing straight down through the deck of the ship.
"You insolent whelp!" the Dutchman roared, the sound shaking the entire vessel. "This is an order from yer captain! Stop him! Arghhh!!" He cried at the end as he was attacked by Arthur and his enhanced weapon.
Danny dropped into a low crouch beneath the deck, his body coated in a messy mix of red and green blood. 'This seems like a job for Danny Fenton instead of Danny Phantom,' he thought grimly.
Ghost pirates immediately spotted him and raised flintlocks, firing ectoplasmic bullets that whistled past his head. Danny rolled backward, phasing through a nearby wall just in time, "Thun thun thun thun… dun—" He hummed to himself.
Robin's voice crackled in his earpiece. "Are you seriously humming the theme to Mission Impossible right now?"
There was a brief pause. "...No," Danny replied timidly, before immediately continuing to hum the tune even louder as he moved.
He phased into another room filled with more enraged ghosts brandishing cutlasses and axes. They charged with bloodthirsty roars. Danny hurled a smoke bomb at the floor; when they slashed through the thick cloud, he had already sunk into the ground.
He descended through two more levels, emerging in the cartographer's cabin. Ancient maps and yellowed parchment covered every surface. A ghostly scribe with a quill looked up in surprise, but Danny was faster, phasing downward again—only to yelp as he exited the bottom of the ship into open Ghost Zone nothingness. He transformed mid-fall just long enough to launch himself upward, then reverted to human form and phased back inside through the hull.
"Trust me," he muttered to the stunned cartographer ghost, "you do not want to go down there."
The ghost attacked instantly, flinging ghost rays and enchanted scrolls that snaked through the air trying to ensnare him. Danny dodged and weaved, firing his own ghost rays from his fists to burn away the parchment. He grabbed a pair of bolas from his utility belt, whipping them around the ghost's wrists before leaping over the desk with a powerful dropkick. The scribe crashed into the far wall. Danny sprinted past him, phasing through another wall into the ship's kitchen.
Ghost chefs hurled every sharp object imaginable—knives, cleavers, skewers, even flaming lobster pinchers. Danny leaped across preparation tables like an obstacle course, tossing ecto-goo bombs that detonated in sticky bursts, gluing the chefs together, to the walls, and to their own stations. As he phased through the next wall, the pursuing knives all embedded themselves harmlessly into the wood behind him.
A final group of ghosts burst through a door with snarling, enraged expressions. Danny's eyes flicked from them to several barrels stacked in the corner, then back again. A smirk crossed his face.
He bolted through the next wall with a panicked expression. Behind him, a slow-burning rope fuse raced toward the liquor barrels. Moments later, a massive explosion rocked the entire ship. Danny dove to the ground, covering his head as wooden planks and debris flew everywhere. When the shaking stopped, he stood up and admired his handiwork: a giant, smoldering hole now gaped in the side of the vessel, the eerie green of the Ghost Zone clearly visible through the wreckage.
Danny held his fingers in front of him, smoke curling from the tips, and blew on them coolly before pretending to holster them at his side. His face was smug. "Boom."
He rushed toward one final wall. On the other side lay the keel—the massive backbone timber that served as the structural heart of the entire ghostly ship. Danny phased through, landing in a crouch before the enormous, glowing beam. He looked it up and down, a wide, determined grin spreading across his bloodied face.
"Bingo."
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