[Third Person Pov]
"Not gonna lie, man," Danny called out as Skulker wrenched free of his grip and spun to face him in midair, "you've caught me at a really bad time. Can't we just… reschedule this? Tomorrow works great for me. I'd really appreciate it."
Skulker let out a low, contemptuous scoff. Reaching over his shoulders, he drew a pair of wickedly curved katanas, the blades singing as they left their sheaths. "Unfortunately for you, prey doesn't get to decide when the hunt begins." He gave the swords a sharp, practiced twirl. "That privilege belongs solely to the hunter. And I've decided your time is now."
Danny rolled his eyes so hard they nearly vanished into the back of his head, eyelids fluttering. "I just know you're going to get on my damn nerves tonight, aren't you?"
The ghost hunter lunged. Steel flashed. Danny weaved and tilted, body flowing around the lethal arcs with practiced ease, neon-green eyes narrowing.
"I'm warning you," he said between dodges, "I'm not the same kid you battled when we first met."
Without breaking rhythm, Danny's eyes flared brighter. Twin beams of glacial blue energy erupted from them and slammed into Skulker's chest. In an instant the hunter was entombed in a massive block of glittering ice, suspended helplessly in the night sky.
For half a second, silence.
Then Skulker's wild mane of spectral hair ignited like living fire. Heat radiated outward in a violent wave, melting the ice from the inside out until it shattered in a cascade of steaming shards. The hunter emerged grinning, eyes alight with savage delight.
"What a coincidence," he snarled. "I'm not the same hunter I was back then, either."
His rocket boots roared to life with explosive force. The sudden acceleration caught Danny completely off-guard. Instinct alone brought a translucent green barrier into existence between them—only for Skulker's armored fist to smash straight through it like paper. The impact sent Danny tumbling backward through the air, pain blooming across his ribs and shoulders in sharp, white-hot waves.
"Thanks to my new sponsor," Skulker boasted, closing the distance in a blur, "I'm upgraded. New and improved!"
One of the katanas swept in a vicious horizontal arc meant to bisect Danny overhead in a downwards slash. The blade passed cleanly through empty air as Danny's form split into two identical copies that slid apart around the strike, then snapped back together into a single body. Before Skulker could recover, Danny's right fist erupted in a roaring green flame. He drove an uppercut into the hunter's jaw with everything he had.
Skulker rocketed upward and backward, tumbling end over end.
Danny flexed his smoking hand, a cocky sneer tugging at his mouth. "Not *that* improved if I can still kick your ass the same way."
Stabilizers flared along Skulker's armor. With a mechanical whir, an entire arsenal of micro-rockets unfolded from compartments across his body and launched in a screaming swarm. Danny thrust out a hand. Invisible telekinetic force seized every missile mid-flight. He clenched his fist. The rockets detonated in a spectacular chain of explosions that lit up the Gotham skyline like fireworks.
Before the afterimages faded, Danny summoned a barrage of glowing green screen-panels. They shot forward like throwing knives, edges whistling through the air. Skulker twisted and juked between them with unnatural agility, armor thrusters firing in rapid micro-bursts. Even when the panels stretched and reshaped themselves into cascading cubes meant to trap him, he slipped through the gaps with impossible, almost contemptuous ease.
From his back, massive laser cannons unfolded and locked into place. Blinding green energy gathered at their muzzles for a heartbeat—then unleashed a pulverizing beam.
Danny barely had time to throw up a layered wall of screens. The beam punched through every single one, shattering them into glittering fragments. The residual force slammed into his chest like a freight train. He cried out as searing heat tore across his torso, the black fabric of his suit burning away in places to reveal scorched skin beneath. He tumbled end over end through the air until pure willpower solidified a glowing platform beneath him. He landed hard on his side, one knee and one hand braced against the spectral surface, breathing ragged.
Green energy pulsed beneath his skin as he forced his spirit body to knit itself back together. Wounds closed. Charred fabric regenerated. When the healing finished, Danny exploded off the platform with such force that it shattered behind him like glass.
They met in the middle of the sky.
The collision of their bodies released a shockwave that rattled windows for blocks and sent distant car alarms wailing into the night.
"Dude—seriously!" Danny shouted, weaving under a sword slash and answering with a punishing haymaker. "Just leave me alone! Go bother someone else for tonight!"
Skulker laughed, the sound metallic and unhinged. "Aww, but we're having so much fun!" Emerald ghost rays lanced from his eyes.
Danny twisted, deflecting the beams with a hasty ecto-shield, then drove a powerful kick into Skulker's wrist. One of the katanas spun free, spiraling away into the darkness. Before it could disappear completely, Danny's telekinetic grip seized it mid-flight and yanked it back into his waiting hand.
Steel met steel.
The two blades crashed together in a shower of brilliant green sparks, the force of the clash vibrating up both combatants' arms as they locked eyes over the crossed edges—hunter and halfa, suspended high above Gotham, neither willing to yield.
Skulker's belt flared with a sudden pulse of raw energy that slammed into Danny's chest like a battering ram. The force hurled him backward through the open air, the katana nearly slipping from his grip. Danny righted himself with a sharp twist, boots flaring green as he shot forward again without hesitation.
As he closed the distance he dragged his free palm along the length of the stolen blade. A wave of intense cold surged through the metal. Frost energy raced across the steel in intricate crystalline patterns, and a thin, silvery mist began to drift from the edge like breath on a winter morning.
Their battle spilled across the Gotham skyline.
The two spectral figures streaked between the towering buildings, weaving through narrow alleys and over rain-slick rooftops. They phased in and out of solid matter with fluid ease—ghosts to every human eye, yet their clash was anything but imaginary. The night air crackled with each impact.
Inside a modest apartment several floors below, a family of four sat around a late dinner. Conversation stopped mid-sentence when the overhead lights began to flicker violently. The crystal chandelier swayed on its chain. Cabinets rattled. Silverware trembled against plates. The parents exchanged uneasy glances, chalking it up to another city power fluctuation.
They never saw the two glowing figures that tore straight through their dining table and continued downward through the floorboards in a blur of green and metal.
The fight tumbled from apartment to apartment in a relentless exchange of blows, neither combatant willing to yield ground. Walls shuddered. Windows vibrated and glazed with frost. People that were sleeping, their breaths became visible and shivered.
In one quiet bedroom a baby startled awake in its crib and began to wail, tiny fists waving at the strange lights flickering through the ceiling.
Danny twisted, shoving Skulker's remaining sword upward with the frosted blade, then drove a brutal elbow into the hunter's midsection. The impact launched Skulker clean through the outer wall and out into the open night.
For a brief second Danny hovered beside the crib. His expression softened. He gently placed a pacifier between the crying infant's lips and murmured, voice low and sincere, "Sorry about the noise, little guy. Sweet dreams."
Then he shot after Skulker like a green comet.
—
Meanwhile, far from the aerial battle, Sam eased open a tall window that led onto one of Wayne Manor's side balconies. Thick residual smoke still clung to the grounds, giving her the cover she needed. She glanced once over her shoulder toward the chaos inside, then climbed onto the railing and leapt without a sound.
Purple light bloomed around her body the moment her feet left the stone. The elegant dress she still wore fluttered as her magic lifted her into the air. She rose above the rooftops, scanning the distant skyline until she spotted the violent spiral of green energy and armored metal that marked Danny and Skulker's ongoing fight.
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. For a long moment she simply watched, conflict written plainly across her face. Then she turned and flew in the opposite direction.
She landed lightly on a familiar fire escape several blocks away, vaulted the railing, and crouched in front of a fourth-story window. Inside, Tucker was in the middle of his room—shirtless, sweat gleaming along the defined lines of his arms and chest. Sticky notes covered nearly every wall in dense, color-coded clusters. He was grinding through another set of push-ups, breath steady, a small puddle of sweat already forming on the floor beneath him. The months of training had clearly paid off; his frame looked stronger, more solid than she remembered.
The soft knock on the glass made him freeze mid-rep. He looked up, blinked hard, then scrambled to his feet and crossed the room in three strides. The window slid open.
"Sam?" Confusion colored his voice. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the gala with Danny?"
She climbed inside without answering, already pacing the length of the small room, hands pressed against her face. The formal dress looked almost absurd against the backdrop of his cluttered, lived-in space.
"Yes—something came up. Oh god, Tucker, I messed up. I messed it up big."
"Whoa, whoa—calm down." Tucker shut the window and turned to face her fully, concern sharpening his features. "What happened? Is Danny okay?"
"He's… fine. For the most part." Sam dragged her hands down her face and exhaled shakily. "But he's currently fighting Skulker. The hunter just attacked the gala out of nowhere. And—long story short—Danny found out that we remember. That we know about the other timeline."
Tucker's eyes widened. "Oh… fudge." He ran a hand over his short hair, already piecing together the implications. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say, knowing Danny, he was not happy about that."
Sam hugged her arms around herself, voice dropping. "He wasn't. I've never seen him that angry at me before. Not ever." She looked up, resolve hardening beneath the guilt. "But that's not why I'm here. We have to go help him. Right now."
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