The Chess

Danny's house was silent. It seemed that Jess had decided to stay with one of her friends or at school, preparing for the annual exam, while his parents were still at the hardware store. There were dismantled wires and sensors lying along the removed baseboards on almost every wall. The alarm system was clearly not working and would not be for the next couple of days. The teenager poured himself a glass of water and, just in case, turned around before trying to repeat what he had learned today. He focused on imagining the shape of what he wanted to create and repeating the state in which he had not lost control of the Phantom. Calmness. Trust. Integrity. A geometric shape began to form in the clear liquid, unfolding from a tiny point in the water. The cube was perfect and did not even grow to the size of the glass. This meant that today's lesson had not been in vain. Danny added a new three-dimensional shape in the form of a lightning bolt to the ice cube without much difficulty. Perhaps the next time he encounters a small demon that has escaped from the Ghost Zone, he will be able to use this power more consciously than before. “You risk getting lost in imaginary identities.” The smile disappeared from the teenager's face as he remembered Masters's grim warning. He had become accustomed to thinking of the Phantom as a separate entity. It was like a symbiote that simply coexisted with his power, rather than a part of himself. This was convenient and even enjoyable to some extent. It was easier to think of it as a friend rather than an unknown aspect of himself, as his own body already presented him with challenges beyond his control. Such as his acne. Thinking about skin problems made the boy remember Vlad's scars on his forearm and the reason for their appearance. Vlad's description of his acne was brief and to the point, as if he didn't want to go into the details that some teachers and educators like to discuss in their drug-related lessons. However, Danny was more affected by the gray scars resembling small craters than by the colorful descriptions of the diseases associated with heroin use. With thickened skin around the edges of the former ulcer and thin skin that looked like it was about to tear at any moment, the center of the scar was even more eerie. The proximity of the delicate epidermis to the blood vessels made the scar look even more sinister. It was as if the ulcer was a parasitic plant that had taken root in the veins and arteries. Danny used telekinesis to remove the ice cubes from his glass and popped them into his mouth, then casually placed the glass in the sink. He quickly walked to the backyard and plopped down in a nearby snowdrift. The coolness and softness of the snow soothed the teenager's anxious thoughts and Phantom's nerves. "It will be difficult to stop thinking of him not as a separate entity," he thought, opening his eyes to gaze at the gray, cloudy sky, where large snowflakes were falling. “One thing I know for sure is that you haven’t been affected by the disease, and that’s a good thing,” Vlad told him. “Why are you so sure?” he couldn’t help asking, nervously tapping his finger on the rim of his thermos. “Have you had some tests?” The answer didn't come as a surprise. It was only to be expected that the ectoplasm that had fallen into Masters' hands, which he had helped him remove from his face after their "hilarious" first trip into the otherworld, wasn't just lying around in his jacket pocket. As Danny lay in the snow, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The vampire's composure sometimes unnerved him. Such a forced examination was both insensitive and rude, but... There was always that damn "but." In this case, it took the form of hideous scars from ulcers that Danny didn't want to see on his own body, so he was willing to put up with this the intervention. — At least he answered honestly, — Danny muttered, watching another fluffy snowflake float by. — It would have been worse not to know. A slight buzzing overhead was too much of a departure from the usual sounds of the neighborhood, causing Danny to sit up abruptly, disturbing a flurry of light snowflakes that refused to melt on his Ghost-cooled body. A small drone flitted by the edge of the Fenton house's roof, blending in color with the gray sky. “— Daniel, between you and me, I’m concerned about your careless attitude towards your own injuries and your habit of ignoring the ectoplasm that leaks out of you, — Vlad said, sounding unusually worried. ― Yeah, maybe my parents will want to study the strange green liquid, just like you. — Have you considered that there might be someone else in this world besides me and your parents who is interested in studying those commonly referred to as Ghosts?”

***

At this time of day, the streets of Amity Park were already quite busy, so it took a little longer than expected to reach Daniel's house. Masters noticed that the impressionable teenager had a negative reaction not only to the description of the external symptoms of the ghostly illness but also to the fact that he had already tested for it. However, it was a necessary dose of truth that could not be avoided. If he's learned anything in this life, it's that a complete lie will eventually raise questions and become less than convincing. The man leaned back in the soft seat as soon as the Fenton house disappeared from view. The boy had seriously exhausted him by forcing him to control himself during training so that he wouldn't accidentally freeze everything around him. Even though Danny didn't resist the influence, his extraordinary resistance to mind control had taken a toll on Vlad's already limited resources. — He's just like you, Maddy, — Vlad muttered, closing his eyes. He exhaled wearily, rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave off the onset of a headache. A pleasant image from the past warmed his soul. Madeleine was one of the few people who had captured his interest in his youth. Her sharp mind and lively personality were like a spark that ignited his own heart. In her eyes, the familiar and already boring world was reflected in a new way. It was a shame that she was reluctant to share this spark with him, preferring the company of a loud and overly bright “friend.” Vlad shook his head slightly to dispel the unpleasant thoughts that inevitably followed his memories. After the teenager, the car was still quite chilly, and I wanted to wrap myself up in a warm coat. The boy was handling himself better, but it was clear that the coolness was more comfortable for him than the warmth. He felt a bit sorry for boy, as the upcoming summer would be a challenging time for him and his icy powers. Vlad yawned wearily, covering his fanged mouth with his hand. No one would see him through the tinted windows of the car, but the habit was too strong. Showing one's fangs was not only considered incredibly rude, but also a form of threat that only other vampires could understand. He still had a lot of work to do, and he couldn't take a day off, no matter how much he wanted to. It wasn't just about his innate pedantry or sense of responsibility, but also about the persistent people in white uniforms. They were representatives of a small and relatively young government organization with no future prospects, especially if they continued to work the way they were. He genuinely felt sorry for the taxes he had paid (at least the honest part of them). But, alas, they are like a monopoly production ― MIW will not develop in any promising direction without competitors. They are like greenhouse plants that have settled too well in life, with a caring owner who tries to destroy any little threat. ― So maybe it's worth adding some excitement to their mundane existence? — Vlad smiled at his own thoughts. It was a risky endeavor, but it could benefit him in more ways than one.

***

Danny was dreaming about the eyes. They were poisonously green and glowed brightly in the darkness. Like two smoldering embers, they flickered intermittently, observing the visitor and not responding to his hoarse “Hey.” There were also the teeth. He could see them clearly. The sharp fangs, reminiscent of a shark’s, filled almost the entire mouth and were clearly designed for a crushing bite rather than an elegant arterial puncture. The creature was silent, staring at him and it evoked sympathy rather than fear. Wild animals only bite when they feel threatened, not like the way they're usually portrayed in movies. They're cautious, not stupid. And what he saw was something akin to a wild animal, only much more intelligent. This spark of intelligence could be easily read in his brightly burning eyes. The creature was hiding in the dark forest, refusing to come out into the open glade. It was both afraid and curious. It moved through the shadows, rustling through the fallen leaves. It shifted from one foot to the other, retreating into the depths of the forest and then approaching again, allowing a ray of moonlight to illuminate its blurred, pale face, which had more animal than human features. But it was a face, not a muzzle. Knock... Knock... Knock... The green-eyed something stirred and dived into the deep shadow of the trees, hearing a sound that was not part of their shared dream. The dark forest faded away, taking on the familiar shape of a room. The long streaks of streetlight filtering through the slightly open blinds gave familiar objects new silhouettes and forms in the dim light. The blanket on his chest felt like a heavy weight. Danny waking mind craved more oxygen, but his still-sleeping body was not ready to provide it. There was a nasty taste in his mouth, something too dry and covered with fine hairs like peach skin. Knock... Knock... Knock... No, he wasn't imagining things. The sound that had awakened him was like the rhythmic tapping of two wooden sticks against each other. If he listened carefully, he could hear the soft rustling of woolen threads being pulled through his fingers. With difficulty, Danny turned his heavy head and saw the source of the noise. Charlotte was sitting on the shelf where the terrarium with the thermos was placed, her legs dangling carelessly. A strange object resembling a short wooden trident was tucked into the belt of her white dress, with a pile of loose, grayish wool attached to it. Or perhaps it was Charlotte's own hair, Danny couldn't say for sure. The girl was twisting a thin thread from the yarn, winding it around what appeared to be a long spinning top with greenish symbols that glowed slightly in the dim light. It was the heavy end of the thing that made the monotonous sound that woke him up, hitting the countertop under the shelf. Knock... Knock... Knock... — No. You couldn't gotten out, — his own voice sounded hoarse. “I couldn’t,” — the girl’s smile was visible in the glow of the streetlight. She didn’t even look at him, continuing to spin. She sat straight, maintaining perfect posture. — Then what the hell? — Danny tried to sit up, but the blanket was pressing down on his chest with an incredible force. All he could do was lift himself slightly off the pillows. “Did you know that people often eat spiders or other house bugs while they’re sleeping?” — Charlotte gave him a quick, sly look. — “Was it tasty?” — Is this another of your illusions? — Danny felt a growing coldness in his chest, which escaped from his tightly clenched teeth in a cloud of cold steam that settled on the blanket. — You little... “Watch your tongue, young man,” — the little demoness reprimanded him in a sharp, haughty tone, returning to her work. — “Don’t forget that I am more than three hundred years older than you, despite how I look.” Danny looked around the room. It was the same as always: the furniture, the posters, the books on the shelves, and the little children's stars on the ceiling that he had never gotten around to removing. There was an old, pot-bellied TV with a VCR, which he had kept more out of sentimentality than necessity. Everything was the same as always, except for Charlotte, who was sitting where the terrarium should have been. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long,” — she sighed with regret. — “You digest all my spiders so quickly that it took a lot of effort to get through to you.” — Why did you do that? — Danny ran his tongue over his dry lips and felt something small and furry brush against the corner of his mouth. It was probably a spider's leg. “You said earlier that you wanted to talk to me,” — she shrugged. — “So here I am. Say what you wanted to say. If you still have any words.” The spindle with the runic pattern continued to tap monotonously on the tabletop. The information was difficult to process in his head. It was a good thing that Charlotte could hear him, and perhaps even listen to him. It was a bad thing that he had kept her in his room, hoping that she wouldn't see anything. He shook his head slightly, dismissing the foolish thoughts that a three-hundred-year-old demon, who had seen more than he had, might not find as interesting as he thought. He needed to focus on more important matters than his own disturbed modesty. ― It's been over three hundred years since your abuser died. Why did you decide to return now? For my father? “Oh, so many questions,” — Charlotte continued to spin without stopping. She wound a little more thread onto the spindle with each turn. — “I’ve already mentioned that I need Fentons, hunters and executioners. Your father meets at least two of the three criteria. In fact, if I think about it, he meets all three. His father is a much more paranoid individual, and has never consciously associated himself with hunting. However, this does not mean that spirits do not follow him.” — Great, another family skeleton in the closet, — Danny sighed wearily, shaking his head. “My dear, your family have not even crypt in their closet, they have a full-fledged cemetery. And you’re one of the dead people in it, whether you like it or not,” — Charlotte said in a mocking tone. Her almost derisive voice was starting to annoy her. — You've been in my dad's head. You've seen more of him than you need to, and you know he's harmless. He's not the kind of person who would be an executioner, — Danny said, trying to keep his voice calm and not raise it. Who knows if he's still in his bed, or if Charlotte's illusion is more complex than it seems. “He’s worse than you think,” — Charlotte said calmly. — “He’s an idiot with a gun. You never know what he’s going to do. Even the Norns can’t predict his behavior. Except for the fact that he’s going to do something stupid that’s dangerous not just for himself, but for everyone around him. But the problem is that he’s going to think he’s right, even when everything is screaming otherwise. He will only admit his mistake when his apologies are no longer effective and his attempts to fix things are futile. Nothing will make him think twice before acting.” Knock... Knock... Knock... "He's also more childish than I was when I was alive. He doesn't think things through and doesn't follow through, relying on his wife like a house elf. He's a frivolous romantic and a dreamer. Jack is a nobody without his wife, who he clings to like a parasite, draining her energy. I warned her not to get involved with him, but she didn't listen. Why would anyone listen to a three-hundred-year-old spirit who's seen plenty of leeches like him? Now she's sitting in the shadow of her selfish husband, doing everything he's too lazy to do, raising his children, managing his money, keeping your house from falling apart, and getting nothing in return. Not even the right to put her own name on the work she's doing. Your father is a parasite. And parasites need to be dealt with.” Knock... Knock... Knock... Danny was watching the movements of the spindle intently. To say something against Charlotte's words, he really wanted to object. But there were no arguments. He continued to listen to the steady tapping of the spindle, not daring to look up. The vile spider's paw gritted between his teeth. “You know I'm right.” — Jack's not dangerous, — was all Danny could say in response to Charlotte's monologue. “Oh, the child’s naive belief in the infallibility of its parent. It is an incredible quality of the living, somewhat similar to a dog’s loyalty to its master. Kind, innocent animals that are capable of loving even the most despicable creatures.” — He hasn't done anything to deserve death yet, — the voice sounded distant, with a slight otherworldly echo. Danny could see the greenish reflection of the Ghost's eyes on the blanket. —Your interference has made him worse than he already was. It has fueled his paranoia, but even that can be corrected. We can balance out the flaws you've mentioned and make them invisible. “And what about what he’s already done?” — The sound of the spindle became quieter. Less frequent. — “I was in his head, as you pointed out. I saw through his eyes what’s in your basement and how it was used. Many would consider him worthy of punishment for thet, or even death.” Danny closed his eyes. The cold was soothing. In the morning, he would probably wake up in the coldest room in the house, but right now, he didn't care. Tiny, sparkling snowflakes began to grow on the surface of the blanket. They formed in the air and fell from the ceiling, slowly landing on the bed. It was as if the teenager had created a giant snow globe to hide himself from everything bad. ― I don't hold a grudge against him. “How noble,” — Charlotte snorted. ― Everyone makes mistakes. It was just one of them. The sound of the spindle stopped completely. The spider disappeared inside it and Charlotte disappeared. In its place appeared again thermos wrapped in a web in a small terrarium. Nothing but the rapidly melting snow on the surface of the blanket spoke of the reality of the dialogue that had taken place between them. Danny pulled his legs to himself, shrinking into a small ball on a large cold bed, and sat for a long time with his face buried in his knees.

***

“Dude, what’s up with you?” was the first thing he heard from Tucker this morning. He knew without anyone else around that he looked like shit, with his eyelids swollen from lack of sleep and his lips red from rubbing them raw trying to wash away the taste of Charlotte’s spider. The night had been even harder than if he’d just been chasing some little imp that had escaped from his parents’ portal. The brief conversation with Webster had exhausted him in every sense, but he didn't want to talk about it, so he brushed off her questions and tried to steer the conversation in a more pleasant direction. It was strange, but they hadn't seen Sam today. Yes, their classes rarely overlapped, but not to the extent that they couldn't even cross paths at their lockers during breaks. At least not to exchange a few words with Sydney, with whom the Goth had once found common ground. The school spirit seemed in a particularly good mood today, as it reflected in an old mirror with a shabby frame, a fresh cigarette in its mouth. Danny silently took an air freshener out of his backpack and put it in the locker. Let the ghost live behind the glass most of the time. ― it didn't help the smell of tobacco. By lunchtime, all the textbooks would be smoky, and it was a miracle that the teachers hadn't noticed the occasional stench. "There's no smell to it," Tucker assured him. However, the ghost's keen sense of smell detected a distinct aroma of smoke mixed with printer's ink. ― ...So he got stuck in the middle of a match, ― at lunch, Tucker finally had time to tell Danny what kind of wunderwaffe he was coding in the computer lab. ― He couldn't keep up with the opponents' actions, but you should have seen what he was doing! It was a machine for perfect matches. You couldn't tell it was a machine! Only it was a bit quiet. — You'll be banned from this server soon for your tricks, — Danny chuckled, sipping a cola that was too sweet after his morning cup of bitter coffee. His friend had a bad habit of not just cheating in online games, but using them as a platform for his experiments. As an independent player, he was mediocre, as was Danny himself. One lacked the speed of reaction, while the other lacked the ability to react to pixels as well as to live targets in reality. — It's not a big deal, — Tucker said, cutting a bigger piece of meat from the burger. — All I'm worried about right now is getting the cooling system working properly. Yesterday, I thought my PC was going to catch fire. — Maybe we can go through my parents' shed and find something useful. If they don't mind, you can take some parts, — the memories of the night time conversation were no longer as painful in the light of day. — But everything there has already been used. Their gothic friend finally approached the table. Strangely enough, she wasn't alone; she was accompanied by a handsome guy in black, with ash-blond hair and a shiny earring. Danny hadn't seen him at school before. — Hi, — Sam said tonelessly, as usual, as she sat down across from Danny. She was only reserved when she was really tired, or had had an early morning argument with her parents. — This is Gregor. He's an exchange student. ― Nice to meet you! ― the guy replied with excessive energy. Perhaps it was just that Danny didn't like new people who approached him, but he didn't like this newcomer. He smelled like something rancid and stale, like an old apple that had been left in the refrigerator and was now being given a fresh look in order to be fed to someone who didn't matter as much. There was something familiar about it, something he often saw in the mirror in the morning, and it only added to his annoyance. Sam briefly explained that escorting the new guy was a kind of assignment from Lancer. Well, it seems that the teacher figured out who stole the frogs from the biology class at the end of last term, and he decided to punish them in this elaborate way. And considering how the girl had been trying to stay away from him all lunch, Phantom was starting to like the new kid less and less. He was being too clingy to his friend.

***

The drone's readings were recorded in the database, automatically marking the points on the city map where minimal activity resembling ectoplasmic entities was observed. By the middle of the second day of observations, there were several areas with the highest activity in the city, but unfortunately, the Plasmius Genetics laboratory was not included in them. Although this seemed impossible to K, as the wealthy man's mansion in Wisconsin literally glowed like a Christmas tree in a dark, windowless room on the maps with this research. — But there's something interesting, — O said, handing his partner a tablet with an open document. — The most frequent occurrences in the last forty―eight hours have occurred in a house that, according to documents, belongs to a certain Madeleine Fenton. And this lady and her husband are, one might say, indirectly related to our past goal. The head of the family has received many patents for devices for the study of ectoplasmic phenomena, and his wife has succeeded in studying these very phenomena. Dissertations, research, she was even invited to many significant scientific conferences this year. The management was so interested that they decided to take a break from searching for the “object” and instructed us to visit these people.

***

― So you'll be participating in the play? ― asked the Goth girl after her friend told her that Weston had decided to start the year with a small cooperative with theatergoers and seamstresses, offering them a small play based on the legend of Hades and Persephone for the spring, which Danny had edited behind Lancer's back. — You should probably participate too, — Gregory interjected. — You showed a very good knowledge of mythology at the bookshop yesterday. Gregory didn't fall behind Sam even in the last break before electives and clubs of interest, in which you could finally do what you like at school. His obsessive desire to make discreet compliments, stand closer or take her hand was beginning to annoy. Especially actively he was when she wanted to discuss anything with Danny. It seems that the friend was also beginning to annoy. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he slept well enough to let the Ghost on someone. And the newcomer who interrupts him for the third time is an ideal future victim of motivated aggression. “You’re so calm and serious.” “You're so mysterious.” “Maybe we can go for a walk after school?” The new guy was acting like some kind of caricature “pick me boy” from any social network that just couldn’t exist in real life. He was cute and only interested in what you were interested in. Even Polina, who was picking up her things for the elective from her locker, seemed to notice this fake persona as they passed by. — First of all, it's rude to interrupt people, — Sam reprimanded Gregor, deliberately standing between him and Danny, who was already emanating a noticeable coldness, and faint greenish sparks were beginning to dance in his blue eyes. — Secondly, I'm not a member of their club, so I'm not going to interfere with Danny's work. And thirdly... The corridor was filled with shrieks. The frantic and frightened Birds: Alice, Sophie, and Catherine, all running at Danny, jostling each other and grabbing his arms. It was hard to make sense of their incoherent chatter. ― ...Wes is in the auditorium... ― ...The drawer is so disgusting... ― ...Will you help? ... Fenton, looking confused, tried to listen to them all at once, but he clearly failed. The teenager blushed profusely, feeling awkward and surrounded by a group of pretty girls in short skirts. As he looked from one cheerleader to the next, he waved his hands in a desperate attempt to calm them down. ― Wow. One at a time and slowly, ― he said. ― Did something happen at rehearsal? ― Come on! Only you can help! ― a red-haired cheerleader with a short haircut grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the auditorium, while a blonde with two ponytails helped her by pushing the guy in the back. — Sorry, Sam, — the brunette with the thick braid bowed slightly and folded her hands in an apologetic gesture. — I promise we'll bring him back, — she quickly blurted out, blushing furiously and immediately running after her friends. — Your friend seems to be popular with the girls, — Gregor remarked, scratching his neck awkwardly. — I know, — it was too difficult to contain the anger. Especially when you had to watch helplessly as your friend was taken away, apparently to a harem. A skinny, freckle-covered boy with a dozen scars, but still a friend who her liked to some extent. Much more than the pretty newcomer. — Maybe if we can't spend time together as a threesome, you and I can go to a movie? He was smiling like he knew her well enough to suggest something like that when she was so obviously not in the mood. The guy was too obviously hitting on her, hoping for something that she wasn't interested in. Not with him, at least. — No, — the Goth girl said curtly, opening her locker. All she wanted to do was put her extra textbooks back in their proper place and go home, where she could lock herself in her room and listen to her favorite gothic rock band's dark music all night, occasionally allowing herself to cry during the emotional parts of the singer's performances. She planned to stay in her black room for as long as possible, sacrificing her dinner in favor of thinking about the transience of life and supernatural beings with bright green eyes. Instead of accepting her refusal, the guy pushed her against the locker, blocking most of her escape routes with his own body. He was too close. The smell of some “stereotypically masculine” cologne made her nose tingle and made her want to sneeze. Only her best friends were allowed to get this close to her, but not a guy she had only known for a couple of days. With her textbooks clutched to her chest, she discreetly reached into the inner pocket of her jacket for her small, trusty self-defense tool. — I know we only met yesterday, but I'd like to exchange phone numbers in case you change your mind, — Gregor said, handing her a small piece of paper with a handwritten number on it. Sam almost groaned in frustration and exhaustion. Why couldn't some boys just accept the word "No"? ― I've been looking for you, ― a hand with a soft pink manicure grabbed the Goth girl by the elbow of the hand that was clutching a small folding knife in her jacket pocket. ― Have you forgotten that we need to be at the elective class? Pauline was smiling as if nothing had happened. Her locker mate smelled of sweet flowers and chocolate. A strand of shiny rhinestones in her black hair reflected a multitude of bunnies in every color of the rainbow, and her new dress rustled slightly with every movement. Before Sam could even raise an eyebrow, let alone ask a question, Pauline turned to Gregor with her trademark flirtatious smile. — You're new, aren't you? — she asked, slowly pushing Sam away from the guy. — I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we have a lot to do today. — I'm afraid you'll have to do without company from now on. Ciao! The girl methodically led the goth girl away from the unlucky suitor, holding her hand tightly in her own, as if she was afraid that the hot-tempered Manson would do something rash. As they meandered through the hallways, Sam realized that they were heading towards the back exit near the cafeteria. It was a shortcut in case they didn't want to face the crowd of students at the main exit. — What are you doing? — Sam couldn't help asking, but it came out harsher than she intended. — I'm helping you get rid of an annoying suitor without resorting to violence, — Pauline replied without hesitation, shrugging her shoulders slightly, as if to say, "What's the big deal?" — Are you helping me? What for? ― already on the way to the emergency exit, Sam freed herself from Pauline's tenacious grip. ― Girls are supposed to help each other. Is not it so? It's weird, by the way, that you're reaching for that thing. I thought you were against violence. ― Pauline smiled brightly, pointing to the black folding knife in the gotessa's hand. The captain of the cheerleading team tilted her head to the side in curiosity, staring at her frowning classmate. The small pebbles in her hair seemed more like a part of her lush curls than an ordinary accessory. Her red lips were painted without clear contours, following the latest trend, and she had a subtle shadow under her eyes, similar to the look of most Korean idols, to create the effect of “smiling” eyes. However, in Polina's performed, this “cuteness” seemed like the mask of a sly fox. — Only for animals, — the girl muttered darkly, tucking the self-defense tool into the inside pocket of her jacket.

***

There was nothing suspicious backstage in the auditorium where the Birds had dragged Danny, even though the ghost had let out a small puff of icy air from his mouth, indicating that he should be on his guard. Although it was unclear why. There were only old set, rows of costume hangers covered in plastic bags, foam swords, and a papier-mâché dragon head. There were no signs of ectoplasm or ghosts. At least not that they could see. — So what's happened? — Danny asked, still looking around. Alice silently pointed to a small wooden box next to the head of the mythical reptile, while Sophie and Katherine hid behind her. The old-looking square box could easily hold small, unnecessary props, but not someone like Weston, who had already grown to almost six feet by the time he was sixteen. At one point, Danny even thought that the Birds were just playing a prank, but then there was the new cloud of ice that escaped from his lips when he approached the box and squatted down next to it. According to the inscription on the lid, it was an old package from England, sent in the last century. — This box must have celebrated its centenary yesterday, — Danny muttered, reaching for the object. — Be careful with that thing! — Sophie squeaked, peeking over her more daring friend's shoulder. ― Oh, come on. Are you seriously afraid of some kind of box? — Danny was almost laughing, looking back at the Birds. But at the sight of them, incredibly pale and slowly backing away, the smile quickly faded from his face. In the next second, his hand, which was stretched out towards the hundred-year-old box, was grabbed by a disgusting giant mouth full of greenish slime, but thankfully it was toothless. The lid of the small box turned out to be the mouth of a square creature that only appeared to be an abandoned, dusty object. Danny jumped to his feet, trying to shake off this strange thing, but the creature's long, fleshy tongue quickly wrapped itself around his arm up to the elbow. Fenton tried to push it away and remove it with his free hand, but his human strength was not enough. A disgusting, warm, slimy thing that looked like a giant snail with a box-shaped shell began to suck the guy inside pretty quickly, wrapping itself around his arm like a snake. Danny, without much thought, turned into a Phantom, unleashing his icy powers. It was more of an instinct than a deliberate decision. When you're being devoured by a box, there's not much time for contemplation. The green, slug-like tongue quickly covered itself in a thick layer of ice, preventing the Ghost from being drawn into the box. Danny regained his composure and used his willpower to stop the freezing process. — Is Wes inside that thing? — Danny asked, pulling his hand free. The frozen pieces of the ghost box's tongue fell to the floor with a glassy thud, melting and evaporating almost immediately in the warm air. — Yes, — Alice replied readily. Sophie was nervously biting the nail on her little finger, and Catherine was squeezing her friend's hand so tightly that her fingertips seemed to be turning blue. The first attempt to open the mimic's mouth was unsuccessful. The rotten-looking wood of the box, infested with wood-dwelling parasites, turned out to be surprisingly sturdy, and the mouth was so powerful that it was not easy to hold it by the slimy, empty-looking gums. The monster's flesh resembled jelly, covered with a thick, stretchy membrane and a luminous liquid that dripped onto the floor. Danny put the box on the floor, opened the lid, holding the imp with his knee, and preventing the lid from closing with his foot. The remnants of a tongue with still-frozen ice crystals covered the entrance to the creature's immense throat. Even with a gloved hand, reaching into that warm, stinking mess was as repulsive as scraping the remains of a soggy, crumbling meal from a sink. But work was work. In the depths of the maw, Danny managed to find Wes's hand. Pulling him out of the slimy trap was no easy task, but it became easier once he had a grip on the short sleeve of his soaked T-shirt. When Weston was free, the Phantom used his power more focusedly, sealing the demon's voracious mouth with an icy crust. The box growled and trembled in his hands, trying to open its mouth, but the thick layer of ice refused to yield. ― How are you? ― Danny cautiously touched the shoulder of a basketball player covered from head to toe in an unpleasant substance that smelled of half-rotten food, sour porridge, and a sports locker room filled with sweaty football players after a difficult match. — Ugh..., — was all Wes could say. His hands were shaking. — Yeah, ick, — Danny said with a reassuring smile, patting the president of their little club on the shoulder. — But it's probably washable. The cheerleaders showered him with thanks that made his ears burn. Being an unwitting emergency specialist had its perks, like a couple of cute kisses on the cheek from pretty girls. As he watched Wes and the Birds help him to the school showers, Danny noticed the dried traces of the ghost box's greenish saliva on Sophie's leg. It was no surprise that she was the most afraid of the thing, and it was no surprise that Wes ended up in the monster's mouth, always ready to help the girls. Although vampires are stronger than average people of their age, it is still not enough to handle even a small imp on their own. The box was shaking and wriggling in the boy's hands. It seemed as if there was something else inside the box besides the obscene long tongue that was trying to break through the rotten wood. It was hard to believe that this seemingly ordinary box was large enough to hold a large basketball player, and still have room for a giant slug-like tongue. — Well, the rehearsal is clearly postponed for today, so let me take you to a more suitable place, — the Phantom said to the box, levitating into the air. His parents probably hadn't had time to set up the sensors yet, but he still had to be careful on his way to the portal in his house, lest he encounter anything else like the drone that had flown over their neighborhood the day before. This suspicious object, belonging to an unknown entity, had caused his mother some concern when he mentioned it during dinner. But father, as usual, believed it was the work of Russian or Chinese intelligence agencies. As he approached the house, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked on the sidewalk with strange license plates that didn't indicate the state. At the door stood two men in white suits, and his mother was talking to them, looking visibly displeased with their visit. Just in case, Danny flew over the street and made a loop to fly in through the back door and straight into the lab. Fortunately, the portal was open. Judging by the amount of equipment, his parents were conducting tests and assembling new sensors when they were abruptly interrupted by the strange people in white. It was surprising that they had even come out to answer the door, leaving all their equipment behind. They were usually impossible to get out of the basement lab when they were busy, but this time... Danny carefully lowered himself to the floor next to the portal. The last visit to the Ghost Zone was still a scary memory in his head, so he decided to just throw the ice-covered box into the portal and not to wind up neither himself nor the Phantom once again with a walk to the greenish Otherworld. He was in no hurry to return to his human form, or at least the appearance of it. It would be impossible to clearly explain to the adults how he got home anyway, but it was worth listening to what suspicious visitors might talk about with his parents. Carefully flying up through the ceiling, Danny got as close to the living room as he could. — ... ecto flashes in your house are occurring suspiciously often and are similar in frequency to those emitted by this creature, — said one of the people in white, but the teenager could not tell which one. Both man was hidden by his father's broad figure. — Again, you are not being accused of anything, — the second visitor hastened to add. — It is simply a precautionary measure that we would like to monitor your research and determine if the 'entity' is indeed connected to it. This is solely for your own safety. Our cooperation can be mutually beneficial. — And I'll say no again, — his mother said sharply, clearly not giving his father a chance to speak first. — Our research cannot easily accommodate new observers at this time. And working with new organizations is not part of our plans until at least next quarter. Now, I'm asking you to leave. We have a lot of work to do. “Have you ever thought that there might be someone else in this world besides me and your parents who is interested in studying what we call Ghosts?” : Vlad’s words suddenly came back to him. It seemed that he had finally figured out who Masters might have been referring to. These people were clearly serious, and they were not going to leave his parents alone. If they were talking about the same “entity,” then things were definitely getting serious. And not just for him.

***

When Kotova returned from a short trip to her home police department, she was surprised to see her daughter at the entrance. Her face was covered in a large bruise, causing one of her spider eyes on her temple to close, and the eye on her left eyebrow to barely open, covered in a network of broken capillaries. Fortunately, the damage to her eye seemed to be minimal. A girl with messy pigtails and a dirty woolen school dress over her padded warm pants sat sadly on a bench, twirling the first pansy in her fingers, which had almost lost all its eyelashes. Ivanov didn't comment on it, just hurriedly used his electronic pass to enter the Special Biotech department, letting Mukhtar pass through the turnstile. For once, he did everything he could to avoid interfering. — How long have you been sitting here? — the woman asked, taking off her hat and unbuttoning the top button of her official tunic. Instead of answering, the girl shrugged her shoulders and placed the tattered flower between the pages of one of her notebooks, staining the paper with it's tears. Kotova sighed. Once again, all the ink would run, and the girl would complain that she couldn't read a single word of her lesson notes. — Who did you fight with this time? — The woman sat down next to her daughter on the bench. Over the past six months, her teachers had already written her a letter of happiness, which they had pasted into her daughter's diary, and the reason was always the same. The new quarter hadn't even started yet, but it was already happening again. ― With Shurka, ― the girl muttered, rubbing her bruised eyes. ― She called me an anomaly again, and after she found out that Nikita had asked me to dance, she poured tea on me at lunch. — And you've started solving problems with brute force again, — Kotova sighed, finishing her daughter's thought. It becomes more difficult to live when you suffer a minor infiltration, even for adults. Let alone children, especially when you have arachnid eyes from birth. It's not that everything is completely bad, but your daughter's bad temper definitely makes some situations worse. — Sonya, I've already told you not to just punch everyone you don't like. — She started it! ― the girl exclaimed hurtfully. — And you continued. This makes you no better than Shurka herself, — Kotova continued calmly, examining the bruise more closely. Her daughter's arachnid-like eyes were heavily reduced and had poor vision, but they were still important organs that could be damaged just as easily as her main eyes. — Perhaps I should really transfer you to a different school, since you're being mistreated at this one and the teachers are letting the students get away with it. The girl fell silent and looked down at the floor, examining her mud-splattered boots, and sniffed. Yes, she had friends where she was studying now, but if the brawls continued at this rate, she would simply return home with out one of her eyeone day. “It’s just a childish game,” some of the teachers would dismiss the issue. It was clear that they had no desire to protect someone they genuinely considered an “infiltrator.” Although it may not have been the extra eyes, but the simple unwillingness to separate the children during breaks. It's a thankless task. Kotova stroked her daughter's dark hair, straightening her disheveled bangs and the crooked white collar. There was one more thing that the woman hadn't tried yet, preferring to give her daughter the opportunity to try to resolve the conflict on her own: talking to the parents of the girl who was causing all the trouble. If the teachers weren't doing anything, maybe the parents would. Especially if she went to their house right after work, still wearing her uniform. — Tanya, — Ivanov called her cautiously through the turnstile. — I don't want to interrupt, but we have a "guest" here. He's come to give us some work, — which was the NNI's way of referring to a specific person: a guest from a parallel reality who had once served as a ticket to a high-ranking position for Kotova. After the Infiltration outbreaks became slightly less frequent and less destructive, small gaps in reality began to be recorded throughout the Union. Although it is possible that they were opening all over the world, these were such minor details that they were not given much thought. The portals were mostly harmless anomalies, and no one more dangerous than a biomech had appeared. However, this individual stood out among the wandering anomalies due to his humanoid appearance. Apart from his hypertrophied fangs and extensive knowledge of electronics, genetics, and economics, he was indistinguishable from an ordinary citizen. It was precisely because of this knowledge that he was kept in the public eye. Who wouldn't want to take advantage of such a unique opportunity to gain valuable insights from a guest from another dimension? Although his thoughts and ideas often contradicted the government mainline, his collaboration proved to be surprisingly beneficial. It was Kotova, a young and unassuming police officer, who initiated this productive communication with a representative of another world. However, he was a slippery character, to put it mildly. He didn't do anything that didn't benefit him in some way. He was a capitalist, after all. And since he had come voluntarily, it was likely that this additional interaction would be challenging for them at best. Kotova stood up from the bench and, after escorting her daughter through the turnstile, handed her five rules and asked her to wait in the cafeteria. They would be home late today.

***

There wasn't much concrete information about ghostly of things on the internet. There were a few references to old Japanese legends, but that was about it. Or maybe Danny just couldn't focus on searching after witnessing the visit of the strange people in white. Who knows. His nerves were frayed all day, and during dinner, there was a small argument between his parents that caused him and Jess to leave the dinner as quickly as possible. His mother and father didn't yell at each other like they usually did, and neither of them raised their voices, but the reason for the argument... Jack was open to cooperating with the white guys, but Maddy didn't share his enthusiasm. After locking the door to his room, the teenager plopped wearily on the bed. After the night's indoor snowfall, the entire blanket was wet this morning, and he didn't bother making the bed for the day so that it could dry. Upon returning home, Danny's first instinct was to turn off the heating in his room. The Phantom was feeling extremely stuffy, and he craved a cooler environment to help him process the information he had received throughout the day. He kept glancing at Charlotte's terrarium. Unfortunately, spiders can't stay cold for long, so he eventually had to turn the minimum heating back on. It was just to prevent a dozen new insects from crawling in to replace the dead ones. It was quite late, and his parents and sister were probably asleep, while he was still browsing the internet in the light of the lamp on his bedside table. On the pillow next to him, Danny noticed a spider that looked similar to the ones that lived near the thermos. He sat up in bed and took a closer look at the terrarium. Inside, a second spider was scurrying around, having emerged from its burrow. This behavior was highly unusual, as the spiders had previously hidden and refused to eat. “Do you want to talk today?” — Danny thought, offering his hand to the spider on the pillow. The insect quickly climbed onto the guy’s hand, and curled its legs up to make itself look as small as possible. — I'm just crazy, — Danny muttered, sighing. What he was about to do wouldn't be approved by Greenpeace. Summoning his courage, the teenager put the spider in his mouth and swallowed the small, still-living creature as quickly as possible. He could feel the spider's legs stretching out in his throat as it crawled down his esophagus. The sensation was akin to having a bitter pill stuck in the back of his throat, but Danny managed to overcome his nausea and focus on hearing Charlotte's voice. Opening his eyes, he saw the girl sitting on the shelf instead of the terrarium, just like yesterday. She silently put her finger to her lips, asking the teenager to be quiet, and pointed to the window. It was difficult to get out of bed under the influence of the demoness' powers. It was as if for the sake of each movement, invisible threads had to be torn, pulling the body into a kind of cocoon. But it was worth it. As Danny approached the window, he noticed a small device on the frame outside, lightly dusted with fresh snow, looking like a miniature DVR. Opening the window, Danny took a small device off the frame to get a good look. The obvious eyepiece of a small camera and small holes in the body, most likely former microphone: a surveillance device, but clearly not belonging to the parents. Fisting his fingers, the teenager destroyed the gadget, taking a certain pleasure from the crunch of the case in his palm. After checking the second window, he also removed and crushed an inconspicuous bug. “These things are like eyes for someone, aren’t they?” — Charlotte asked, looking down at the boy from the top of the shelf. — Something like that, — the teenager nodded, sitting down on the bed. — Eyes and ears. Why did you tell me about it? The girl paused for a moment, looking Danny straight in the eye, before answering: “I said my target was hunters, executioners, and Fentons,” — she began to slowly spin the spindle with the greenish runes again. — “Those who came and left these things fit two of the three criteria, even if they are not Fentons.” That night, the teenager slept poorly again, jumping at every rustle. He listened to the sounds from outside and got up a couple of times to lift the blinds slightly and look outside. He wasn't particularly surprised when he noticed the familiar white car with strange license plates parked in front of the house across the street. Whoever these people were, they couldn't have missed the loss of the bugs, and they were likely planning to make up for it by staring at his room all night. Danny jumped up in bed when he heard footsteps in the hall. It was six o'clock in the morning, so it was his mother, who usually got up early to make breakfast. He felt exhausted as he got out of bed. A nasty headache was forming somewhere in the back of his head, but that wasn't the problem. The thought that these strange people were not specifically targeting him but the entire house was barely visible through the growing migraine. Without getting out of his pajamas or bothering to find his slippers, the teenager picked up the remains of two devices from his room's windows and went downstairs to the kitchen, where his mother had already started frying pancakes. — Good morning, sunshine, — Maddy smiled as usual, pretending that she and her father hadn't fought again yesterday. — You're up early today. The teenager glanced at the kitchen window and came closer, silently placing the remains of the tracking devices on the countertop next to the stove. The woman examined the items for a while, then silently moved the frying pan off the stove and asked: ― Where did you find it? Danny pointed to the window. Just as silently as Charlotte had done the day before. It seemed unnecessary and pointless to say anything. Every word they uttered could be interpreted in a way that benefited those listening and used against them later. Mom studied the window for a long time, then approached it and, apparently finding what she was looking for, instructed him sternly to go wake up their father. At school, Danny first took Tucker and Sam by the arm and gave them a brief summary of what had happened, along with a brief request for their help: "We need to find the members of the club and warn them that there are other hunters in town besides my parents. These hunters are serious and are looking for a some creature, but I don't know what it is. Once you find guys, tell them to be careful." With a silent nod, the friends split up to search for the members of the Mythological Club among the student body. Danny, on the other hand, headed straight for Principal Ishiyama's office. If anyone should have been informed first, it should have been her, and then Weston.

***

O was in a bad mood. The boy Fenton, a strange freak, was not only obviously a little crazy, but he also found the cameras so quickly that they didn't have enough time to extract any useful information from them. Despite this, the teenager appeared to be a simple-minded and introverted autistic individual who rarely made eye contact with others. One would not expect such observational skills from someone who talks to themselves and eats insects. The memory of this little psycho putting a dead spider in his mouth made Agent's neck itch. He reminded Agent of a former classmate: a quiet and unassuming individual who was largely ignored due to the fact that someone had once caught him eating pigeons, those feathered flying rats, while hiding under the school's bleachers. There was something off about him, something that shouldn't be present in ordinary people. Something sick. Back to analyzing the data that the drones had managed to collect and personal dossiers on all members of the Fenton family, O tried to push thoughts of the little abomination away so that they wouldn't interfere with his work. But it didn't work out to fully focus on business. It turned out that both of the Fentons' children were attending Casper High School, which was the second most active location for ectoplasmic flashes in the city. Whether this was a mere coincidence or a pattern remains unknown. However, the school was definitely a place they needed to visit, and the sooner the better.

***

The atmosphere in the classroom was nervous, to put it mildly, and it wasn't even about the unscheduled inspection that Mr. Lancer had started again. Glancing at the office door from time to time, Danny only counted down the time until the end of lessons, wanting to leave school as soon as possible. The ”where to" question He was about to leave and remained open, but even the Ghost Zone now seemed to be a relatively safe place compared to the real world. It would be calmer if he knew exactly what kind of “creature” the people in the white uniforms were looking for. Even if it turned out to be himself. It was better than this nervous uncertainty and the thought that someone he knew might be in danger. Someone weaker than him, someone who didn't have the strength or ability to fight back. While he wasn't worried about Victoria, the Swamp Witch could give him a run for his money in many ways, but what about Weston with the Birds? What can they do against hunters who look suspiciously like government agents from the movies? As soon as the bell rang, Danny jumped up from his seat and, leaving a piece of paper on Lancer's desk, rushed out of the office, with Tucker barely keeping up with him. ― Did you manage to warn anyone before the lessons started? — Danny was trying to fish out of his backpack the crumpled pack of cigarettes he'd bought on his way to school that morning. A small bribe for Poindexter, for which he will most likely agree to sit in a locker and not show off once again. — Tori, Alice, and Wes, — Tucker said as he caught up with his friend. — What did the headmistress tell you? — Nothing specific. She asked me to leave right after school and go for a walk until about eight o'clock before I went home, — Danny tried to formulate a mental request for Sydney to sit quietly so that the harmful poltergeist wouldn't perceive it as a challenge. — Don't walk alone, don't talk to strangers, and so on. We already know all that. She thinks these guys in white aren't self-employed or from a private company, which is a problem. — From government? — Tucker asked in a half-whisper. — I'm think so, — Danny typed the password on his locker. — And Masters is not available right now. At the sight of the pack of cigarettes, Sydney quickly agreed to Fenton's terms. What wouldn't a nicotine-addicted dead man do to obtain the one thing that brought him joy in life? Reaching out from the mirror with a black-and-white hand, he eagerly grabbed the pack, which seemed too colorful against the backdrop of his mirror-like reality, and disappeared into the reflection. Danny hoped that he wouldn't break his promise and would remain hidden if anyone decided to check the students' belongings. However, there was one person at school who was almost impossible to get rid of. Gregor had latched onto Sam like a leech again, and he had forced her to join his group for after-school activities. On one hand, having an ordinary person in their group made them less suspicious and antisocial. On the other hand, there wasn't much to discuss with him. While the self-proclaimed new friend was standing in line to get snacks with Tucker, Danny leaned closer to his friend and whispered: ― Why is that leech sticking to you? Sam just sighed heavily, trying hard not to notice the way Gregor was looking at her. The way he was smiling and adjusting his sunglasses. Yesterday, Pauline had given her a surprisingly accurate description, calling him obsessed. The popular girl seemed to have a good understanding of the types of guys who were messed up, and she had told them about the time she had discovered an impromptu altar in one of her fans' lockers that was dedicated to her. Although she had made it sound like a funny joke, it had caused fear in her heart. Who knows what a psycho like that might do if the object of his affection starts dating someone, for example. — I have no idea, — the girl replied honestly. — Can you sit next to me while this guy and I are together? He's bothering me. He grabbed my legs under the table during lunch yesterday. I don't want him sitting next to me. Danny nodded silently. In the context of the hunters' surveillance, the creepy perv in their group wasn't the biggest problem, but it was definitely an unpleasant one that needed to be addressed. The teenager even regretted throwing the ghostly box into the Portal. Scaring the creepy guy with a toothless imp would have been a good idea. It would have definitely attracted the attention of the guys in white, but probably not to him. ― What are you two talking about? ― Gregor tried to sit next to Sam, pushing Danny out of the way, but Danny didn't move, so Gregor had to sit across from her. — We're just discussing the details for Tucker, — Fenton lied easily, and Foley picked up on the lie just as easily. — Is there anything useful in your parents' barn? — he asked, sitting down across from him and passing him a burger and cheese potatoes. — No. But I haven't gone through all the junk yet. But after I came across a flash drive that glowed in the dark and had a broken case, I started to think that it might not be a good idea to connect all these things to the computer. — Danny meticulously wrapped his burger in a napkin to avoid handling it with dirty hands. — Come on, I'll take any useful piece, even if it's radioactive, — Foley chuckled. — What are you up to, cyber-psycho? — Sam quickly grabbed her orange juice from Gregor's tray, trying not to look at him. — We're testing a small bot at the computer club, and my old PC can't handle it, — Tucker shrugged carelessly, glancing outside and nudging Danny under the table. Looking out the window at the parking lot, Danny noticed a familiar car with suspicious license plates. It seemed as if these guys were following him. The driver was difficult to see through the tinted windows. He still don't know who you were dealing with. ― Tucker, aren't you afraid that after connecting the parts that Danny's parents used, your bot will gain self-awareness and try to take over the world? ― Sam tried to maintain her usual sarcastic attitude. She joked, carefully ignoring the pervert across from her. ― Just like Hull 9000? ― after Gregor’s words, it became awkward to laugh. The guy didn’t fit into their small group at all, but he seemed to be the only one who stubbornly ignored it, continuing to smile and munch on a vegetarian sandwich as if nothing had happened. When all the food was gone and all the awkward conversations were shattered by Gregor's attempts to squeeze himself into their company, and it was at least strange to continue sitting in the cafe in silence, the establishment had to leave. It was relatively warm outside and not very snowy, so the decision to walk a little to the nearest park came naturally. But, as expected, the white car did not leave them just like that. As Danny turned around, he could see car slowly walking down the road or waiting by the side of the road. There was no doubt that she was following him, either as a potential “entity” or as one of the Fentons who could be used to pressure his parents into the “cooperation” they had so insistently offered them the day before. It was unclear which option was worse. Turning around again, the teenager noticed two men with shaved heads getting out of the car. He had a good look at them. The boy wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and he tripped over something, falling to the ground and hitting his chin painfully against the brick wall. Cursing through clenched teeth, he suppressed the urge to spit out the blood from his bitten tongue. ― Danny! ― Sam was the first to run to him, concerned, helping him up. ― Are you okay? — Fine, — he replied, hissing as he wiped the blood from his chin. — Do you have a tissue or something? The Goth quickly pulled a purple handkerchief with black spiders and webs printed on it out of her coat pocket. Too pretty to get dirty, but better than getting blood all over the brickwork. — What's this? — Tucker looked in confusion at the object that had caused his friend to "kiss" the pavement. A small wooden box, seemingly flimsy and eaten by wood parasites. On the lid was the English address of the sender and more than a hundred years of the date of sending. It seems that this box did not want to stay in the Ghost Zone and reappeared in order to take revenge on the Phantom in such a strange way for his frozen tongue yesterday. Danny's mouth released a cloud of icy air, which he managed to hide behind Sam's handkerchief from prying eyes. — What is it? — Gregor reached forward, reaching for the ghostly box before he could be stopped. The touch of warm human hands seemed to awaken a small, box-like demon. The lid of the box opened, revealing an excessively long tongue and a mouth filled with sharp, giant-sized splinters. Whatever this creature was, it had clearly evolved since yesterday. Gregor dropped the box with a scream before the sharp teeth could bite him. Danny reacted quickly, grabbing the hapless guy by the arm and running towards the park after his friends. He should have thanked the mysterious box, as it would have distracted the guys in white for a while. — W-was that a ghost? — Gregor asked, stammering either from fright or from running fast. — Welcome to Amity Park, — Danny said irritably, wiping a small trickle of blood from his chin with a rough gesture.

***

— You're late again today, young lady! — Mrs. Manson blurted out instead of greeting her daughter on the threshold. — Not at all, — Sam said, ignoring her mother and walking into the house without taking off her coat. After escaping from the demon box, Gregor had retreated, and the group was finally able to breathe freely and even play some snowballs. — It's five minutes past seven, and you told me to be home by eight. In theory, I could have stayed out for another hour. — You're always picking on little things, — the woman rolled her eyes, following her daughter up the stairs. — An hour is a 'little thing'? — the Goth girl couldn't help but be sarcastic. — Sam, you're well aware of your own schedule, — the woman persisted. — The sooner you return home, the better. The less time you spend with your so-called 'friend' Fenton, the better it is for you. — Can't you just stop criticizing my friends for once? — the girl snapped as she reached the doorway of her room. — You don't like Danny just because you didn't choose him. You don't like anything that you can't control completely, including me! ― Sam... — Stop it, Mom. Just... — Sam stammered, trying to gather her thoughts. — Just stop it. I'm a bad and wrong daughter who doesn't listen to you and hangs out with other bad and wrong people. I get it. After locking the door behind her, the girl quickly put on her headphones and turned up the music. Her fingers trembled with anger and resentment as she scrolled through the playlist on her old, beat-up player, which she had bought at a flea market with the money she had earned during the summer by selling books at the bookstore. The player was starting to glitch, causing the small screen to flicker, but it still had a good battery life. Most importantly, it was hers. Her parents couldn't blame her for using their money to buy a gadget and then filling it with "satanic" songs. Huddled in her favorite corner of the room, the girl pulled off her coat, threw it carelessly on the floor, and immersed herself in the loud music that her family referred to as noise. Sometimes she envied her friends. Even Danny, whose parents were far from perfect, didn't have the same level of control as she did. They didn't monitor his every move or forbid him from socializing with others. She remembered when she first met the quiet Fenton in third grade. She had been homeschooled before, and she was surprised that the boy's mother hadn't taken his phone away immediately after they had come over with Tucker to play and watch cartoons on an old cassette player. The woman never even looked into their room while they were having fun together. Yes, as it turned out later, the guy had a lot of skeletons in his family closet, but even they didn't seem as scary to Sam as this suffocating control. She jumped when her phone vibrated in the pocket of her knitted vest, which she had also bought with money she had carefully saved from her part-time jobs. The message was not from Danny or even Tucker, but from Pauline, with whom she had struck up a conversation after escaping from the annoying Gregor. The cheerleader had sent her a photo of a tattered tarot deck with traces of cobwebs and an unassuming invitation to “do a reading sometime after school.” “Maybe she’s not as empty-headed doll as she seems,” Sam smiled to herself, pondering the offer.

***

— Better than nothing, — K said with a sigh, looking at the living box locked in a small cage. The Fentons were surprisingly successful in removing all the bugs they had placed, although it took them most of the day. Despite the fact that the head of the family was willing to cooperate with them, his wife would not allow it. At Casper School, they were unsuccessful. Any activity ceased as soon as they added the location to their list of visits. The principal refused to cooperate, citing the lack of a valid reason for the inspection. They could have fabricated one, but it was not necessary. One of the teachers, a balding literature teacher, agreed to help them without informing Mrs. Ishiyama. However, even this did not yield any results. Whoever they were dealing with, the Creature was clearly playing ahead of them. It was as if it knew every move they were making. They had already dealt with visitors from another dimension, but these greenish blobs, more like oversized slimes, were neither intelligent nor powerful. But this thing... The only blurry photo of a black-and-white creature with bright green eyes and a face without any distinctive features hung on a corkboard in the center. It couldn't be linked to anything or anyone, but giving up and leaving Amity Park empty-handed would be an unaffordable luxury. The ghostly box was the only complex ectoplasmic creature they had in their possession. Although it bore no resemblance to the "Object," K reassured himself that it was better than nothing. — Coffee? — his partner asked, holding out a disposable plastic cup from a nearby cheap diner. The drink was disgusting. It was too unsweetened and didn't even have milk, but Kay eagerly took a sip of the invigorating beverage. After spending a whole day on his feet, he was willing to drink anything to stay awake. — Disgusting, — K breathed, turning back to the trap. — What the hell! The cage was empty. The box seemed to disappear as soon as he looked away.

***

In the evening, Danny didn't find any new suspicious devices on the windows outside or inside his room. Charlotte's spiders didn't appear either, hiding in their usual nests. However, the boy's dreams remained unsettling. He found himself back in the clearing at the edge of the dark forest. Once again, he tried to call out to the creature with glowing green eyes, hidden in the dense shadows of the trees. But to no avail. One thing was good, waking up early on a day off, he felt a little more rested than yesterday. Lying on the bed, he looked at the ceiling for a long time, until the phone on the bedside table vibrated briefly, announcing a new message. Lazily stretching, he sat up and the first thing he saw on the floor by the bed was not slippers, but the already familiar annoying box. “Guess I shouldn’t have worried so much about those guys. They can’t even catch a box,” — Danny chuckled, looking at the crate that had only a couple of scratches on it. — “I wonder why you’re sticking to me.” He cautiously reached for the box, but then stopped himself: — Just don't bite, — he said to the box in a stern tone before gently touching the lid with his fingers. He stroked it, as one would do with an animal in a pet store, before making a decision about purchasing a new pet. A large brown eye opened between the cracks in the lid, causing Danny to pull his hand back in shock. This creature had indeed evolved, and quite rapidly at that. Six wooden legs emerged from beneath the creature's body, resembling spider legs in appearance. The joints of the wooden legs glowed a greenish hue, as did the long tongue that the creature extended, almost like a dog's. This creature has indeed evolved, and quite quickly at that. Six wooden legs appeared from under the body, somewhat resembling spider legs. The joints of the wooden legs glowed greenish, as did the long tongue that the box lolled out almost like a dog. — You know, you're almost cute when you don't growl or bite, — the teenager smiled, stroking the ghostly box once more over the giant eye, and went to the dressing room to change. It wasn't very comfortable, but it made him feel better. The thin wooden door provided at least a semblance of privacy from Charlotte's prying eyes. When Danny, ready for the new day, returned to his room, the Box was already settled on his unmade bed, its paws tangled in the blanket and its drool staining the pillow. After this, he would definitely need to wash his bedding, preferably several times. Finally, he picked up his phone and read the message. Masters had left a brief message, asking him not to worry and to come to a very strange address. This was the response to his inquiries about the people in white uniforms?! On the other hand, if you thought about it, Vlad was generally a pretty cool-headed person. This was proven many times by their joint training sessions, and the moments when he turned to him for medical assistance after a serious fight. However, fulfilling such a vague request required a level of trust from Danny that he didn't even have for his parents. Without hesitation, he dialed the familiar number just to make sure of something. — Good morning, Daniel, — the voice was definitely Masters's. The tone was calm and relaxed, as usual. There was no trickery. — I didn't think you woke up this early on weekends. ― That wasn't part of the plan, ― the ghostly box began to gnaw on its favorite pillow with its wooden teeth, causing feathers to fly. ― Are you okay? It was strange to receive a request to meet from you, ― the teenager held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and forcefully pulled the pillow out of the little imp's wooden teeth. The creature took it as a game and began to gnaw on the fabric even more intensely. All Danny achieved was to send a flurry of light feathers into the air, swirling like white flakes in a snow globe, and the pillow was completely ruined, much to the monster's delight. He exhaled in disappointment. Cleaning the room was added to the laundry. — Same question for you, Daniel, — Vlad's voice sounded surprised. — Did you get a dog? — Not really, — Danny said, holding the phone more comfortably as he looked at the spider-like wooden monster with the corgi's habits jumping on the bed. — Do you mind if I come with this 'dog'? I can't leave him home alone. — Um, no... I don't mind, — Masters seemed more than a little puzzled. One could give oneself a little medal called "for baffling the man who couldn't be baffled." — What time can you be there? — If I can, I'll be out in about fifteen minutes and back by nine, — Danny said as he used telekinesis to collect the feathers scattered around the room and send them into the trash can. He was grateful that yesterday's fumbling with the surveillance devices hadn't given his parents enough time to fully install the sensors. This meant that cleaning would be faster and easier. — Would that be convenient for you? — Of course, — the tone of his voice made it easy to imagine a slight, restrained smile. — There's a bit of construction going on here, so don't be alarmed. I think the road signs will be a good guide for you.

***

They arrived at the Fentons' house as soon as they received a signal from the drone about a new outbreak of ectoplasmic activity. The journey took less than ten minutes, but when they arrived at the scene, there wasn't even a spark of the otherworldly influence left. Their bad luck seemed to be following them. First, the Fentons, then the loss of any activity at the points of anomalous outbreaks, and finally, the escape of the captured object. His wounded arm ached more than usual today. Ignoring the need to change his bandage this morning seemed to be causing a slight inflammation, but K was willing to put up with it for the sake of completing his mission. When he saw the familiar old box in Fenton's hands, neither he nor his partner hesitated to follow him through the streets of the residential area. Did the boy realize what he was holding in his hands? Did he understand what would happen if it decided to wake up and feast on his skinny limbs? The boy walked deeper into the old town, then turned into the working-class district, which was home to the oldest and most dilapidated buildings. At this early hour in the morning, the streets of this area were still empty, and the lone teenager carrying a box looked strangely out of place. If K were still working for the police, he would have suspected the boy of being a courier for a local gang. The strangeness didn't end there. Fenton stood for a long time studying some road signs, and then turned into an alley lined with warning tapes. The road signs were very unusual. Only when he got closer did K realize that one of the signs had a strange symbol resembling a flask and some writing in Russian or Ukrainian, which he had never been able to distinguish. As for the other signs, they were even more peculiar. The greenish, slightly phosphorescent hieroglyphs did not resemble any existing alphabet on the planet. ― What the hell? ― O's question was more rhetorical. Portable ectoplasmic activity detectors gave a short beep. In the darkness of the alley where the red-jacketed teenager had disappeared a couple of moments ago, there was a flash of light. From there came the echoes of voices, laughter, and what sounded like music from a radio. With their weapons drawn, the agents carefully moved deeper into the brick maze, which was filled with debris and construction waste. In the dead end, they were met not only by strange workers, but also by an unknown spatial anomaly. It looked like a wall that was being dismantled, but instead of an old apartment or the other end of the street, there was an endless greenish space filled with stairs, doors, walls, and similar portals leading to unknown spaces that differed in both color and weather. While one of the nearby gaps was filled with snowflakes, the neighboring gap was illuminated by bright sunlight. The boy was nowhere to be seen, but right next to the portal sat the workers, sipping beer of an unknown brand from glass bottles and having put aside the tools of which the most striking was the hammer, leaning against the wall next to the woman. From humans they were distinguished by bluish skin and unusually pointed ears. They were dressed completely out of season, wearing nothing but denim half-jumpsuits and heavy boots, which looked particularly ridiculous on a woman who, like the men, was not wearing a T-shirt or a shirt. Her ample breasts were covered only by the top of her jumpsuit and wide straps. They spoke strangely. Their speech was more like a whisper and the rustling of fallen leaves than anything that human vocal cords could replicate. — Federal Bureau of Anomalous Activity Surveillance, — O first showed his badge, drawing the attention of the unimpressed creatures. — Drop anything that could be used as a weapon and raise your hands where we can see them. The creatures just laughed. Well, it looked like laughter, but it sounded like a few drafts whistling. One of the men, a bearded and short man, pointed at the agents and said something to his colleagues in a rustling language, which made them laugh louder and the whistling of the drafts intensify. It didn't seem like they were particularly afraid or even surprised by the presence of people with guns and uniforms. The blasters had only been tested on small, greenish, shapeless imps. They worked perfectly on their simple, jelly-like bodies, but K wasn't sure if they would be even half as effective on more complex and dense creatures like these. Today seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out. He and his partner removed the safety locks and aimed their weapons at the blue-skinned creatures, who remained calm and smiled at them. It was like watching parents watch their children play cowboys. ― Mukhtar, fas! ― a command came from the side, but instead of a dog, a giant tarantula jumped at them. A short, paralyzing bite and layers of web quickly covering him from head to toe were the last things K saw before he passed out.

***

— What an interesting arachnid you have, — Kotova remarked as she filled out the incident report, glancing at the spider-like box with a single large brown eye on its lid. The creature was energetically running from one worker to another, dragging a long tongue across the ground, dripping with greenish, thick saliva. — I've never seen one like this before. Technically, this was their first full-fledged visit to another dimension, but it ended in an ugly way: two stunned foreigners with weapons, who, according to the documents they carried, were representatives of the same power structure that Masters had mentioned. What was suspicious about this was the way they reacted to a simple spatial anomaly, which was both nervous and unprofessional. It was the first time she had encountered them, and she had no idea what to expect from them. But not to the point of pulling out your gun! “And the management wanted to send a whole squad here,” the woman thought, looking at the three bored security officers on the other side of the gap, who had decided to stretch their legs next to the car. The armored van also moved its legs periodically, following the movements of the officers. Kotova took another look at the documents presented by her colleagues from another world. She looked at the weapons they had confiscated, which had signs of infiltration elements, or what could be considered an analogue of anomalous manifestations. However, something still didn't add up. It wasn't so much the information provided by their "Guest" as it was the basic logic. — They're strange. Everything seems to fit with your words, comrade Vladislav. But they're somehow... — Kotova tapped her pen on her cheek, trying to find the most appropriate word to describe the men wrapped in two cocoon-like structures. — Dilettantes? — Masters suggested, adjusting his warm scarf. — To be honest, I'm a bit surprised myself. They were so eager to collaborate with our reality's researchers. They were so eager to obtain subjects for their studies. But when faced with a simple portal... — Master handed Kotova the unlocked tablet of one of the agents, showcasing the documents detailing their objectives in the city. — That's a bit harsh, — the woman said, studying the text with a certain degree of skepticism. Perhaps the task had been assigned to newcomers? After all, a world filled with infiltrators like Masters and portals opening here and there couldn't be that poorly prepared. — But it's clear and concise, don't you agree, Tanya? — Ivanov offered the arachnid a treat, gently stroking its neck as Mukhtar took the dry ration with its front legs and began methodically chewing on it with its mandibles. — While we're at work, I'm Major Kotova to you, Lieutenant, — the woman corrected him. There was no doubt that he wouldn't allow himself any more liberties. However, sometimes their friendly relationship became too friendly at the wrong time. The blue-eyed teenager, who had been sticking close to Masters all this time, looked at the arachnid with interest and finally decided to approach the creature, which he had probably never seen before. — Who is this? — he asked quietly, pointing at Mukhtar. — A service arachnid, — Ivanov replied readily, in his usual broken English. He was much better at Chinese. At least the pronunciation didn't make his ears curl. ― Cool... ― the boy's eyes were as bright as they had been the day Sonya brought home a dirty, newly hatched spider-cat from the street, which had grown from a small fool into a fat, impudent, red-faced creature that was always trying to steal a piece of sausage from the table. ― Can I pet it? ― the child asked hopefully. — Daniel, — Masters started to reprimand the child, but the lieutenant quickly calmed him down. — Don't worry, Mukhtar is well-trained. He won't bite without a command, — the man said as he squatted next to the spider, who was finishing its meal. He gently stroked the animal, showing the child where they could touch it. The boy carefully reached out and touched the spider a couple of times, testing the stiffness of the chitinous hairs. He watched as the animal closed its large eyes. The arachnids had evolved significantly from their small counterparts. This world seemed familiar, with a clearly smaller number and scale of anomalies, but full of familiar things. Perhaps the manifestations of Infiltration had not yet had time to change it as much as they had in their reality? Perhaps this was the reason for the poor training of the local representatives of Special Services? — I used to want a dog, — the teenager admitted, continuing to gently stroke Mukhtar. — But now I want this. — Your parents won't be happy about this, — Masters chuckled, signing the copy of the document that Kotova held out to him and taking a copy for himself. ― I agree, young man. As far as we know, arachnophobia, as a form of xenophobia, is very strong in your reality, ― Kotova finished her paperwork, roughly planning her next steps. The “Guest” had indeed given them a lot of work, but in the long run, it might be possible to persuade their colleagues from this reality to cooperate with the research institute. If they didn’t cooperate, it wouldn’t be a big loss. A relatively stable reality within easy reach was an even more tempting prospect than the vastness of space. The management will definitely like this, and they will definitely start paying more attention to the portals. Kotova pulled off her hat and ruffled her short hair. It was much warmer outside than it was inside portal. She wanted to stay and explore the new world, but she had work to do first. — Stop standing around, — she shouted at the guys by the armored car. — Pack up the sleeping beauties. I'm not carrying them to my own back.