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Chapter Text

RANBOO

It was four thirty in the afternoon and Ranboo was getting tired of Techno beating him in fights.

"That was terrible," Techno observed, fully suited in his Red Hunter armour and hovering with his hands on his hips.

"I'm dead," Ranboo complained from where he was slumped against the roof of yet another apartment building. "You've killed me."

"What a devastatin' loss. Get up."

Ranboo groaned and pushed themself to their feet. "How much longer do I need to stay out of the house?"

Techno turned his face away primly, expression inscrutable behind the tinted visor. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

"Right. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm turning eighteen today?"

"Oh, are you? I didn't know."

Ranboo rolled his eyes and blew a lock of black and white hair out of his face. He'd grown it out in the six months since Hannah and the vines, until it was just long enough to curl under his chin and brush the back of his neck. Tommy thought it made him look like a cool surfer bro . Tubbo said he looked like a truffula tree.

Whatever. Ranboo liked it. It did get tangled around their horns sometimes, but those had long since smoothed out their jagged edges into gentle curves, so it wasn't that big of a nuisance.

Techno twirled his ectoswords expectantly. "Get up. Go again. Try to actually hit me this time."

Ranboo sighed heavily but pushed himself off the roof and leapt at Techno. His tail lashed behind him. Red and green crackled over his knuckles. Techno caught the blow on his crossed ectoswords and easily redirected the momentum off to the side. Ranboo rolled in the air and flung a halfhearted handful of ectoenergy at Techno's chest, not wanting to cause any actual damage, but it just bounced harmlessly off Techno's armour. Techno rapped him on the back of the head with the butt of an ectosword.

"Ow," Ranboo complained, rubbing their head.

Techno set his hands on his hips. "You're still pullin' your punches."

"Yeah, because I'm way more powerful than you."

"Then why do I keep winning?"

Ranboo gave him an unimpressed glare. "Because you keep using my momentum against me."

"And you're not takin' the shots when you get an opening. Dodgin' doesn't matter if you don't take advantage of it."

"I don't want to hurt you, Red."

"The suit's phase-proof." Techno tapped the blade of one ectosword against the opposite wrist. "You literally cannot hurt me."

"I could knock you out of the sky."

Techno wordlessly pointed to his hoverboard.

Ranboo crossed their arms. "I don't think you appreciate how strong I am."

"Oh, I appreciate that plenty. What I don't appreciate is you holdin' back on me out of some misguided sense of safety. How am I supposed to learn to fight better if you're not gonna actually fight me? What happens when the next big threat comes along and I'm not prepared to deal with it 'cause you were too scared to hurt me?"

Ranboo's Core panged sharply. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I'm pretty sure that counts as manipulation."

"Full strength, ghost boy. I mean it."

"Fine."

"Hey, Phantom!" a voice called from the street.

Ranboo glanced down to see a group of teenagers waving up at him. One had their phone up, presumably taking a video. Ranboo waved back with a smile.

Techno rapped them on the side of the head again.

Ranboo rubbed his head and stared at Techno incredulously. " Ow ."

"Pay attention," Techno said.

Ranboo blinked at him for a moment, then aimed a finger gun at his chest and blasted him point-blank. The ectoenergy rebounded off the suit harmlessly, but the force of the blast sent Techno tumbling backwards head over heels, flailing his arms to reorient himself.

Ranboo's Core hissed. They winced. "Sorry, Red. You okay?"

Techno, with his arms still outstretched for balance, gave them a thumbs up. "Good shot."

"…Thanks."

The group of teenagers below cheered wildly.

"Do a flip!" one of them yelled.

Ranboo, bemused, flipped himself over in an elegant loop-de-loop. The teenagers cheered again. Ranboo grinned.

"Quit panderin' to your fan club," Techno complained. "We're in the middle of somethin'."

"You're just jealous," Ranboo teased.

"I am not."

"Sounds like something a jealous person would say."

"I- no, they're distractin' you, that's all I- stop lookin' at me like that-"

Ranboo opened their mouth to press him further. What came out instead was a cloud of mist.

Techno immediately straightened. "What is it?"

Ranboo squinted across the rooftops, probing his Core for the nearing cold presence. "Nothing too big. Probably on the same level as Ponk or Slimecicle."

"Where's it coming from?"

Ranboo pointed.

"Great. I'll handle it, then."

Ranboo frowned. "But-"

"Nope. It's your birthday. I'll handle it."

"Oh, so now you can acknowledge that it's my birthday?"

But Techno had already flown off. Ranboo stared after him for a moment, then turned himself invisible and followed.

The ghost in question was an anthropomorphic cat with striking blue eyes. His fur was tawny brown, darkening to near-black on his hands and feet. His ears twitched back and forth as if on high alert. His tail swished behind him as he flew, scanning the surrounding area, looking for something.

"Hey, ghost!" Techno called as he neared him. "What brings you all the way out here?"

The ghost blinked at him, surprised, then gave a sheepish smile. "Oh, hi." He raised his hands with his palms facing himself in the Ghost Zone sign of surrender. "You're the Red Hunter, right?"

"That's me. What can I do for you?"

The ghost's eyes flicked vaguely toward where Ranboo was floating behind Techno. "I, um, thought this was Phantom's haunt. I was hoping I could talk to him."

"That can be arranged," said Ranboo, returning to full visibility.

Techno jumped. "Jesus Christ. Have you been there the whole time?"

Ranboo patted him on the shoulder. "I think your scanner needs updating, Red."

"I'll update you ," Techno muttered, which didn't make any sense.

"I thought it was my birthday."

Techno's eyeroll was palpable even through his tinted visor.

"Hi," said Ranboo to the ghost. "Sorry about my friend, he can be argumentative sometimes."

The ghost's eyes were wide. "Oh. I, um- it's okay."

There was a brief moment of silence. Ranboo tilted their head, still not used to ghosts getting star-struck by their presence.

"How can I help you?" he prompted.

"Right." The ghost shook himself. "Um, hi. I'm Antfrost. I run an animal sanctuary in L'manberg."

"Nice to meet you, Antfrost."

Antfrost's lips twitched in a catlike approximation of a smile. "Yeah. Thanks. You, too. I've, um, heard a lot of stories about you."

"Most ghosts have."

"Are they- how many of them are true?"

Ranboo shrugged. "That depends on what you've heard."

Antfrost fidgeted with his fingers. "That you can help, you know. Get ghosts to move on."

"That's true."

"Really?"

Ranboo rubbed the back of their neck. "I mean, I'm not an expert or anything, but I've done it before."

"Only like sixty-somethin' times," Techno muttered from behind them. "But, sure, not an expert."

Ranboo elected to ignore him.

"Wow," Antfrost breathed. "That's amazing."

Ranboo just shrugged again. "I like to help people when I can."

"Can- do you think- could you help me?"

"I can try."

Antfrost's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm not gonna promise anything, but I can try."

"Oh, that's amazing, thank you!" Antfrost clapped his hands. "Um, how do we… start?"

Ranboo thought for a moment, clasping his hands behind his back. Moving on meant satisfying Obsessions. What could Antfrost's be? "You said you run an animal shelter, right? Tell me more about that."

Antfrost's eyes lit up, practically glowing blue. "Oh, it's great. Queen Eret gave me a whole bunch of resources to build the perfect sanctuary in my haunt. It's got everything a sick or injured animal could ever need." He wilted. "Of course, there aren't really any animals in the Ghost Zone, so it hasn't really been used, but that's okay. Other than a bunch of blob ghosts, but they don't really count."

Ranboo frowned. "Why not?"

"Well- they're not really living animals, are they?"

"Neither are we, and we still get hurt sometimes."

Antfrost blinked, like he hadn't thought of that before. "I… suppose."

"How many blob ghosts have stayed at your shelter?"

"Around a dozen or so."

"What form did they take?"

"Um, the usual ones, I think. Ectopi and the like."

Ranboo nodded. "And blob ghosts change their form depending on the situation, right? They would only choose a passive form like an ectopus if they felt completely safe."

Antfrost's expression cleared. " Oh ."

"You did help save animals. Just not the ones you thought you would."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," Antfrost murmured.

Ranboo smiled gently. "Most ghosts don't."

"But then- what happens to my sanctuary after I'm gone? I can't leave a whole flock of blob ghosts stranded on their own."

"You won't. Queen Eret gave you the resources to build it, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think she would just let those resources go to waste after you put so much effort into using them?"

Antfrost was quiet for a moment. "No. No, she wouldn't. She keeps her word. Always."

"Exactly." Ranboo spread their hands. "There's nothing more for you to worry about. Everything is taken care of."

"It really is, isn't it?" Antfrost smiled at Ranboo in something like awe. "You're really good at this."

Ranboo ducked his head sheepishly. "I do my best."

"Thank you."

"Of course." Ranboo held out a hand. "Go in peace, Antfrost."

Antfrost took Ranboo's hand in both of his. "And you as well, someday, Phantom."

Then, with one final exhale, he dissolved into nothingness.

Ranboo floated in silence for a moment. He opened his hand, gazing at his now-empty palm. His Core purred in contentment.

"He's right, you know," said Techno eventually. "You are good at that."

Ranboo dropped their hand with a shrug. "I've had a lot of practice, I guess."

"You really think you could do that for every ghost?"

"I don't know. Some Obsessions are harder to resolve than others. But everyone deserves a chance, so if they're willing to try, then so am I."

Techno shook his head fondly. "You're such a hero."

"High praise from my sidekick."

Techno raised the hilt of his ectosword to whack Ranboo in the head. Ranboo ducked, grabbed his arm, and flipped him over their head, leaving him wobbling in the air.

"Oh, that was not fair," Techno growled.

Ranboo tilted his head innocently. "What? I saw an opening and I took it. Wasn't that the point of your whole lesson?"

Techno's face was obscured by his visor, but his glare was palpable. He wordlessly activated his ectoswords.

Ranboo grinned. "You've gotta catch me first."

They turned on their heel and shot off through the air, laughing as Techno chased fruitlessly after them.

TOMMY

The kitchen in the Minecraft household was not normally this much of a mess. Then again, most meals in the Minecraft household were not made by Tommy.

"Salt, Tommy," Wilbur reminded him. "That's sugar. We need a pinch of salt."

"It's not my fuckin' fault they look the same," Tommy grumbled, shoving the sugar container back into the cupboard.

A bright laugh came from Tommy's phone, propped up against the knife block, where he was on a video call with Ranboo's moms Raine and Bonnie.

"The nerve, honestly," Bonnie lamented. "They should make them come in different colours."

"They make pink salt," Raine offered from behind her, not looking up from her book.

"Then sugar should be blue. It's only fair."

"Don't impose gender dichotomies on your seasonings, Bonnie."

"You're supposed to be helping me cook," Tommy reminded them.

Bonnie gave an innocent smile. "We can help and be obnoxious at the same time."

"I see where Ranboo gets it from now," Wilbur sighed.

The TV in the living room began blaring the local news theme. Tubbo, who was sitting on the living room floor struggling with wrapping paper, startled and cursed under his breath.

Tommy frowned. "Why the fuck are you watching the news at full volume?"

"I can't find the remote," Tubbo complained.

"Phil probably has it."

"So it's been harvested for spare parts?"

"That sounds unhelpful," said Bonnie.

Tommy spread his hands. "That's Phil for you."

"Oh, hey, Ranboo's on the news again," said Tubbo.

Tommy stuck his head into the living room.

"-all in a day's work for our own ghostly hero, the Phantom of Essempy Park," the news anchor was saying. The screen cut to a shaky phone video of Phantom and a catlike ghost having an inaudible conversation before the cat ghost dissolved.

"Badass," said the cameraperson.

Tommy nodded in approval. "Nice. That makes, what, sixty ghosts they've helped move on now? Sixty-four?"

"Sixty-five, I think," said Tubbo.

Bonnie whistled. "That's impressive."

"That's our kid," Raine said proudly. "Also, Tommy should stir the pasta."

Tommy returned to the kitchen and stirred the pasta. "Yeah, well, it helps that he isn't getting shot at by half the fuckin' town every time he shows up."

"I can imagine that would make things easier."

"Maybe don't tell Ranboo's mothers how much they used to get shot," Wilbur advised.

Bonnie's grin was dangerous. "Oh, don't you worry. We've had that conversation with Ranboo already."

Tommy stared at her. "You terrify me."

"Good. That means you won't be stupid."

"Bold of you to assume I'm ever too afraid to be stupid." Tommy moved to pour salt into the pot of bubbling tomato sauce.

Wilbur grabbed his wrist at the last second. "A pinch , Tommy, not a handful."

Tommy wrenched his arm free. "How the fuck would you know?"

"Because I'm looking at the recipe."

"Maybe I'm not following your bitch-ass recipe. Maybe I'm making up my own. The Tommy Innit Special: Needs More Salt."

"You're gonna make it taste like Play-Doh."

"Good. Play-Doh is fuckin' delicious."

"It is not," Tubbo called from the living room. "You'll make us all sick."

"Please do not make everyone sick on my child's birthday," said Bonnie.

"Unless it's funny," Raine amended.

Tommy pointed to his phone victoriously. "See? Fifty percent of Ranboo's moms agree with me. I'm gonna make fuckin' Play-Doh pasta."

Wilbur sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "You are somehow a worse chef than Phil."

"Oi, fuck you, bitch. You take that back. I am the greatest chef to ever cook anything."

"Add a pinch of salt, Tommy," Bonnie said.

Tommy added a pinch of salt.

There was a thump in the living room, followed by a yelp from Tubbo and a choked gasp from Techno.

Tommy startled and pressed a hand against his chest. "Fuckin' Ancients."

"Get the fuck out!" Tubbo yelled. "I'm not done wrapping your present, you dick!"

"Sorry, sorry," Ranboo laughed, covering their eyes as they stumbled into the kitchen. Techno followed close behind, still taking deep, deliberate breaths.

"Could you obey the laws of physics," he managed, "for five seconds?"

Ranboo just grinned. "It's not my fault you need to breathe."

Techno flipped him off.

"It's only 5:50," Wilbur pointed out, glancing at the time on the oven. "You weren't supposed to get back for another ten minutes."

Ranboo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you were keeping me away from the house?"

"It's all part of our evil scheme to take over the world," Bonnie piped up.

Ranboo gave her a deadpan look. "Hi, Mom. Love you, too."

"Ancients," Tommy repeated dismally. "It really does run in the family."

"No swearing in front of my moms, Tommy."

Bonnie frowned. "But he didn't swear?"

"Not in that sentence, anyway," Raine added.

Tommy clapped his hands. "No, no- did you know that ghosts don't say Jesus Christ ? They say fuckin' by the Ancients instead, for some reason."

"Because there's no Jesus in the Ghost Zone," said Ranboo.

"So you swear by a group of fuckin' old dead people instead."

"They're old, dead, and have specific roles to keep the Ghost Zone functioning. Stop swearing in front of my moms."

Bonnie gasped. "By the Ancients, my son, do you really think your poor dear mothers are too feeble to hear such despicable words?"

"Fuck," said Raine.

Ranboo stared at them for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. "You're all terrible."

Bonnie grinned. "Love you too, ghost boy."

Techno appeared over his shoulder. "Tell your spawn not to phase people through the roof without warning."

"It was through a wall," Ranboo protested.

"Several walls. And a floor."

Raine set her book down. "That depends. Was it funny?"

"Hilarious," Ranboo confirmed.

"Then go for it." She went back to her book. Tommy was becoming more and more convinced she wasn't actually reading and just had it there for comedic purposes. He aspired to be just like her.

Techno glared at Ranboo, who shrugged. "I have parental permission."

Techno swatted at Ranboo's head. Predictably, his hand passed right through.

"Alright, fuckers," Tubbo announced, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a shoddily-wrapped gift in his hands. "If the food is ready, then we can get this party started."

Bonnie's brow furrowed. "Shouldn't you wait for Phil?"

Tommy waved a hand. "Nah, we'd be waiting all night. That's why I cooked instead of him. He's probably fuckin' sucked into some ghost invention shit in the basement."

Wilbur and Techno shared a glance over everyone's heads.

"I see," said Bonnie neutrally.

Ranboo clapped their hands. "So. You made food."

Tommy puffed out his chest. "Fuck yeah, I did. It's a feast fit for a king."

"Looks like spaghetti."

"And roasted zucchini," added Tubbo.

Ranboo raised his eyebrows. "You roasted zucchini?"

"Yeah," said Tommy, "because I'm a fuckin' culinary genius, that's why."

"I'm more just surprised that you included a vegetable."

"Oi, fuck you, I can cook vegetables just fine-"

"He wanted it to be red and green," Bonnie explained. "And he was too lazy to dye the noodles."

Tommy wrinkled his nose. "No, I didn't want to dye them because red and green mixed together looks like shit. Literally. It makes brown. I'm not making fuckin' shit spaghetti for Ranboo's birthday."

"I'm honoured," said Ranboo drily.

"You fuckin' should be, bitch. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this food."

Tubbo made a face. "Not literally, I hope."

Tommy threw up his hands. "Why does no one trust my fuckin' judgement?"

"You tried to add a full handful of salt," Wilbur reminded him.

"At least it can't be worse than whatever Phil would have made," Ranboo offered.

Tommy glared at him. "Fuck you."

"You're just ahead of the curve, Tommy," Bonnie lamented. "Genius is never appreciated in its time."

Ranboo picked up Tommy's phone. "I'm hanging up now."

Bonnie laughed. "Alright. Happy birthday, kiddo. We love you."

"Love you," Raine echoed.

Ranboo smiled. "Love you too."

"Your moms are awesome," Tubbo decided as Ranboo hung up.

"I'm adopting them," Tommy agreed, plucking his phone from Ranboo's grasp. "They're my moms now. Not yours."

"You can't just steal my moms, Tommy," said Ranboo.

"Sure I fuckin' can. Mine is dead. I get yours."

" I'm dead."

"You can have Phil."

"No, thanks."

"Not to break up this thrillin' debate," Techno interrupted, "but I am starvin' and I would like to eat Tommy's quote-unquote 'feast' before it gets cold and unpalateable."

"Why the fuck does no one believe I can cook?" Tommy complained.

"Because we know you," said Tubbo.

Ranboo patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We can always order pizza."

"You all fuckin' suck," Tommy grumbled.

The spaghetti turned out to be, in fact, fucking incredible. So incredible that no one should ever question Tommy's ability to cook ever again. The roasted zucchini was a bit too salty, but that was fine. Tommy had never liked vegetables, anyway.

PHIL

Look. Phil wasn't an idiot.

He knew he wasn't the best parent. He knew he spent way too much time in the lab and not nearly enough with his kids. He knew they were slowly distancing themselves from him no matter how hard he tried to be there for them.

But, dammit, he was trying.

Kristin would have done a better job. She would have been able to get the kids to talk about what was actually bothering them, would have been able to pull Phil out of the lab when he got sucked into his work, would have been able to solve this stupid ghost problem in a heartbeat.

But Kristin wasn't here. So Phil was left doing the best he could.

He sighed and tapped his screwdriver against his workbench. The schematics for a portable ghost shield generator were spread out across it, covered in Phil's scratchy handwriting and many, many question marks. The latest iteration of the generator itself sat on the ground being utterly useless. Previous incarnations which had worked even less were piled next to the workbench collecting dust.

That wasn't entirely true. Some of them worked a little. He could generate a small shield that repelled ectoenergy, but it was barely big enough to protect a small child, let alone the whole of Essempy Park. And it was nothing compared to the shields Phantom could make with his bare hands. Phil would have to try a lot harder if he wanted any chance of keeping his kids safe when he couldn't be there to fight for them.

"Piece of junk," he muttered under his breath.

Frustration is a natural part of the invention process , Kristin would have said.

Phil huffed. "That doesn't make it any less frustrating."

He glanced over at the wall opposite the portal. He'd built two containment cells into it, each just big enough for a roughly Phantom-sized ghost to stand up in with a little extra space to move around, but not enough to be comfortable or hide away in the corner where Phil couldn't reach. A wide grid of phase-proof metal bars were bolted over the opening.

If he were to turn them on, a thin film of ectoenergy would stretch across the gaps between the bars, creating a cell that allowed Phil free access while keeping the ghosts inside.

Those shield generators worked just fine.

"Why can't you do that?" Phil complained to the defective generator on the ground.

The generator just sat there like an inanimate object.

Phil sighed and set his hands on his hips. He turned to the other new additions to his lab: two speeders built to safely transport living people through the Ghost Zone, looking like a cross between a submarine and a rocket ship. The smaller one-person prototype worked pretty much perfectly, though it only had space for a low-power ectogun. The larger four-person model had yet to even turn on.

One day, Phil would take those speeders into the Ghost Zone and destroy the ghosts from the source. They would never threaten his family again.

Which was another reason this stupid shield generator needed to work better than it did. Phase-proof metal was great, but it didn't make for a very good windshield, and his experiments with phase-proof glass had never been successful.

Phil turned to the framed photo on his desk. "I don't suppose you have any ideas?"

The woman in the photo was caught mid-laugh, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the corners. Sunlight danced across her tan skin. Her dark hair and black dress were blowing in the breeze. One hand clutched her wide-brimmed black sun hat. The other was pressed against her chest, fingers brushing the gold heart-shaped charm around her neck, engraved with P+K .

Kristin. Phil's dead wife.

He imagined she would have smiled at him and shaken her head in that way she did when he was being an idiot. Take a break, sweetheart , she would have said. You won't get anywhere by banging your head against a wall .

"I won't know if I don't try," Phil grumbled, but he knew she was right. She always was.

Phil slumped into the nearest folding chair and pulled out his phone in hopes of a mindless distraction.

He really shouldn't have opened social media. That was his mistake.

He was immediately met with a video of Phantom and some cat-shaped ghost captioned with another day saved .

"Badass," commented the kid taking the video.

Phil groaned.

More Phantom hero worship. Couldn't people see they were playing right into his hands? Didn't anyone know he was just mimicking their emotions to garner sympathy? He didn't even do anything, just talked to the cat ghost until it disappeared. How did that count as saving the day when everything Phil did got brushed off as the actions of a deranged lunatic?

Phil kept scrolling. Half his feed was filled with Phantom. Phantom fighting ghosts, Phantom talking to ghosts, Phantom causing property damage, compilations of Phantom being 'unexpectedly funny' or 'unhinged for five minutes straight.'

There were exactly two posts that mentioned Phil. One complained about how unhelpful Phil's presence was. The other was a meme listing all the ways Phantom was better than him.

Phil wanted to scream.

Phantom was a threat . Where had all this hero worship come from? And why did no one care to listen to Phil, who had spent literal decades of his life studying ghosts and preparing for situations exactly like this?

He imagined Kristin rubbing her hands over his shoulders. You need to relax, dear.

"I'm trying," he muttered. "But that- that thing is dangerous, not some sort of supernatural entertainment, and definitely not a hero. I would get it if people were scientifically interested. Ghosts and ectoscience are fascinating, but so is a hornet's nest. You don't go poking around when you're not prepared for the consequences. People used to get that. I don't understand what changed."

Maybe they're just used to it now , Kristin might have said.

"Maybe."

Phil glanced up the stairs leading out of the lab.

His own kids were in on it, too. They had never been entirely on his side, only half-listening to his lessons on the dangers of ghosts and how to protect themselves, but it had evolved to being outright dismissive and cutting him off if he ever tried to bring up the topic. Wilbur was the gentlest about it, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Tommy and Ranboo would share amused looks that seemed to contain entire conversations. Even Techno, who had at least agreed ghosts were dangerous even if he never approved of Phil's research, had gotten some switch flipped in his brain and abruptly stopped caring along with the rest of the town.

His kids rarely called him Dad. He had never asked them to. That was fine - they came from the foster system, no one ended up there for no reason. They had never called Kristin Mom, either. But they used to treat him like a parent. These days, he was just another adult living in their house.

"They'll get themselves killed if they're not careful," he said to the air.

Then it's a good thing you're here to keep them safe , he imagined Kristin saying.

They were well-prepared to fight an actual ghost if they needed to. Phil had made sure of that. But they weren't trained to seek out ghosts on purpose like they had been doing lately. Phantom had ripped up entire streets with a single ectoblast before. If one of his kids got too close, too careless, because they somehow believed it was safe…

Phil couldn't have another death on his conscience.

He placed a hand on his shoulder where he imagined Kristin's to be. His hand was cold and rough. It was a poor imitation of the real thing.

Then his eyes caught the time on his phone.

6:43.

Phil bolted upright in his chair.

Shit . He was supposed to make dinner for Ranboo's birthday today. He had promised not to miss it.

Techno had given him a dark look when he'd first promised that. Now, he supposed he deserved it.

Phil shucked off the dirty outer layer of his jumpsuit and dashed up the stairs. There wouldn't be time for him to cook anything by now – they had probably ordered pizza – but he could at the very least make an appearance and try to apologize. Ranboo was forgiving enough. He probably wouldn't mind.

Wilbur and Techno might, but today wasn't about them.

The sound of lighthearted teasing and overly dramatic mock outrage drifted from the dining room. Phil paused just outside, taking a moment to observe his kids from the doorway.

They looked so happy . The five of them filled up the table just fine. Phil's empty plate looked like nothing more than set dressing. It was like none of them had even noticed he was missing. No one saw him standing in the doorway, either.

Ranboo pointed their finger at Techno and said something stern and serious. Techno threw back his head and laughed. A real, full belly laugh, one that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Phil couldn't remember the last time he made Techno laugh like that.

Who was he to intrude on this family meal? If he made his presence known, the atmosphere would dampen immediately. These kids had an easy closeness between them that just didn't include Phil. And he was fine with that. Really, he was.

But he made a promise. He would not abandon Ranboo on his birthday.

Even if, some part of Phil's brain reminded him, Ranboo really wasn't all that alone.

Phil took a deep breath and strode into the dining room with confidence he didn't feel.

"Hey, there, kids!" he greeted genially. "Sorry I'm so late. I got caught up working in the lab."

Sure enough, the room went silent. Wilbur's smile turned strained. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo exchanged glances with meanings Phil couldn't decipher. Techno outright rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he muttered, all traces of his previous amusement vanishing, "we know."

Phil slid uneasily into his seat. "Happy birthday, Ranboo."

"Thanks, Phil," Ranboo said.

"I really am sorry I lost track of time. I know I was supposed to make dinner for you, but I got sidetracked working on the speeders – I swear I'm this close to a breakthrough, I just haven't figured out the last key part yet-"

"I know," Ranboo interrupted. "It's fine. Wilbur and Tommy made dinner."

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Tommy cooked?"

"You're goddamn right I cooked," Tommy boasted, but his bravado felt less genuine than it had before Phil inserted himself. Performative, almost, like he was conscious of the outsider in their midst.

Phil served himself a moderate helping of spaghetti and pretended it didn't bother him.

"He had to call Ranboo's moms for help," Tubbo informed him.

Tommy spluttered indignantly. "Oi, did it not turn out fuckin' incredible?"

"It did not," said Tubbo.

"I mean, it was decent," said Ranboo.

Tommy glared at them. "Are you guys seriously fuckin' shaming me for calling Ranboo's moms? Ranboo's moms are fuckin' awesome."

Ranboo shrugged. "That's true."

Phil internally shrunk in on himself. Techno shot him a dirty look. Wilbur hissed a warning under his breath. Techno rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Ranboo's moms lived halfway across the country and still somehow managed to be an active part of their child's life. Phil glanced at Techno, sitting just across the table, and had never felt further away.

Chapter Text

RANBOO

They stopped by the Rosebush after school the next day under the pretense of doing homework, though that tended to be forgotten in favour of goofing off. Tommy and Tubbo promptly beelined toward their usual table by the window. Puffy had their order waiting for them at the counter when Ranboo went to pay.

"What's the cupcake for?" Ranboo asked as they collected their drinks: two hot chocolates and a chocolate milk, because Tommy was a child.

"Your birthday," said Puffy. "Obviously."

"That was yesterday."

"We were closed yesterday. It's on the house."

"Oh, no, I can't-"

"Just take the damn cupcake, Ranboob," Tubbo ordered.

Ranboo took the cupcake. "Thanks, Puffy."

Puffy grinned. "Anything for my favourite regulars."

Ranboo grinned back. His eyes caught on the memorial wall, where the thin red vine Hannah had planted still twisted between the faux roses on the trellis. Niki's candle burned merrily at the base.

Tommy and Tubbo had already covered the table in various papers and books. Ranboo swept enough of it aside to set down his free cupcake and their respective drinks.

"Man," said Tommy without preamble, " fuck chemistry."

"I warned you that chemistry had algebra in it," said Tubbo, not looking up from his notes.

"No, you said that physics had algebra. You didn't say shit about chemistry."

"I did, too!"

"You did not . How the fuck am I meant to get into university with grades like this?"

"You could try studying," Ranboo suggested innocently, unwrapping the cupcake.

Tommy shot them an unimpressed look. "Well, aren't you just a fuckin' genius, then, huh? I never would've thought of that. You've cracked the fuckin' code."

"I'm not failing chemistry."

"That's 'cause you're a fuckin' nerd."

"I have a C+ average. Tubbo's the smart one."

"You're taking anthropology," Tubbo deadpanned, like that meant anything.

Ranboo spread his hands. "It's interesting!"

"It's also the one class neither of us are taking, so we can't cover for you if you have to run out. It's dragging your average down."

"I only had to run out once last week. Compared to before, that's basically nothing."

"And then you complained all afternoon about missing a lecture on cultural evolution."

"Nerd shit," Tommy reiterated.

Ranboo took a disgruntled bite of cupcake. "You'd be more invested if you spent more time around extinct societies."

"Yeah, I have no fuckin' desire to visit the Ghost Zone, thanks. You can do that on your own."

Ranboo reflexively glanced over his shoulder at Puffy, but she had vanished into the back and probably wasn't paying attention to them anyway. "You'd probably like visiting Snowchester, actually. They do gladiator combat sometimes and I'm pretty sure they invented their own kind of nukes."

Tommy brightened. "Wait, actually? That sounds sick as fuck."

"That's anthropology."

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I refuse to believe that."

"Hey, what about MIT?" Tubbo interrupted, apropos of nothing.

Ranboo and Tommy both turned to stare at him.

"For university," Tubbo clarified.

Tommy raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You really think either of us-" He waffled a finger between himself and Ranboo. "-are smart enough to get into fuckin' MIT?"

"That seems a lot nerdier than anthropology," said Ranboo.

Tommy tried to kick him under the table. Ranboo simply turned their leg intangible, rendering the effort fruitless.

Tubbo rolled his eyes. "I meant if I went to MIT and you fuckers went somewhere else nearby. I know what your grades are like."

Tommy wrinkled his nose. "But then we'd have to go to university in Massachusetts."

"The hell is wrong with Massachusetts?"

"It's fuckin' Massachusetts , man. The fuck isn't wrong with it?"

"Do you wanna stay stuck in this tiny hick town for the rest of your life?"

"Fuck no, but that doesn't mean I wanna go to Massachusetts."

"You choose such strange hills to die on," said Ranboo.

"Thank you."

Tubbo crossed his arms. "Okay, then, boss man. Where are you planning on going to university?"

Tommy shrugged. "I don't fuckin' know. Not MIT, that's for sure."

"Really? You don't say."

Tommy flipped him off. "I've been thinking of trade school. I bet I could make bank as a plumber or some shit. No algebra in plumbing."

Tubbo grimaced. "You do realize you would literally have to deal with other people's shit all day, right?"

Tommy shrugged. "Easy. I do that whenever you open your mouth."

Tubbo threw his pencil at him. Tommy caught it and threw it back.

"Guys, please," Ranboo complained through a mouthful of cupcake.

Tubbo huffed. "Whatever. I'm defiantly not doing that."

Ranboo stopped chewing and frowned. "You mean definitely."

"I said what I fucking said."

"You'll never get into MIT with that kind of language," Tommy said haughtily. "That's highly unprofessional."

Tubbo stuck out his tongue. "Professionalism is itchy and I can't spell."

Ranboo just sighed.

Tommy pointed at them. "See, Ranboo agrees with me. We're gonna go to plumber school and become the real-life Mario bros, and you're gonna be a sad, lonely little nerd in fuckin' Massachusetts."

Ranboo's Core twisted. He set his cupcake down, suddenly uneasy.

"I don't think Ranboo wants to go to 'plumber school'," said Tubbo.

"Sure they fuckin' do," said Tommy. "Don't you, Ranboo?"

Ranboo pursed his lips. "Not sure. Whatever it is, though, it'll have to be in Essempy Park."

Tommy winced. "Ah. Right. 'Cause it's your haunt."

"Yeah."

"That's no big deal, boss man," said Tubbo. "You could just go to the local community college like Techno did."

Tommy brightened. "I bet they have a plumber program there. We could go together."

Ranboo shook their head. "I don't want you to stay stuck in this tiny hick town just to make me feel better. You deserve to see the world. Even if the world includes Massachusetts."

Tubbo narrowed his eyes. "You're saying that like you don't."

"Yeah, something's up," Tommy agreed. "Spill."

Ranboo sighed. "I dunno, man. I'm just kinda like, what's the point, you know?"

"No."

"Explain."

Ranboo rubbed his eyes. "Okay, it's like- the universe decided to give me a cupcake today, right? And now I have the responsibility to deal with this cupcake and everything that comes with it. Except I never asked for the cupcake, and I don't really know what to do with it, and maybe some people think it's cool but one else actually has a cupcake so they don't know what it's like, and they all get to grow up and move on with their lives while I'm stuck with this stupid cupcake."

Tubbo stared blankly at him. "That explained nothing."

"Does that mean you're not gonna finish that?" Tommy pointed at the half-eaten cupcake in front of Ranboo.

Ranboo wordlessly slid it over to him. Tommy happily shoved it in his mouth.

"I feel… stuck, I guess," said Ranboo. They checked to make sure Puffy hadn't reemerged, then lowered their voice. "Like, I'm dead. I died. That's it. Life over. What am I gonna do with a university degree?"

Tubbo shrugged. "What are any of us gonna do with a university degree?"

"But that's the thing. You have options. You get to grow up and move out and do something with your life. I don't have much of a life to do anything with anymore."

"Well, that's bullshit. If you don't have a life, what are you doing in high school? Why graduate if you're already dead?"

Ranboo blinked. "Uh."

Tubbo snapped his fingers in triumph. "Exactly. Who cares if you're not technically alive? You're passing all your classes, you've discovered a new interest, and you've got some pretty badass friends. What more could you want?"

"Mfrm," said Tommy with his mouth full, which Ranboo took as agreement.

"Besides, university applications aren't due until after Christmas. You've got loads of time to decide. You could even take a gap year if you wanted. Or wait and go to university thirty years from now. The world's your oyster, boss man."

"A gap year is a good idea."

Everyone jumped. Tommy choked on cupcake. Ranboo automatically clapped him on the back.

"Sorry," Puffy said sheepishly.

"Er," said Tubbo. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I just walked in. You were talking about university applications."

She wasn't immediately reaching for her ectogun, so Ranboo was inclined to believe her.

"I took a gap year," she explained. "It really helped me figure out what I wanted to do with myself. I got a lot of great work experience. That's how I met Niki." She paused, glancing wistfully at the memorial wall. "Anyway, the extra time let me make a better plan for the next few years rather than a rushed decision. If you're feeling stuck, I would recommend it."

Ranboo gave a halfhearted smile. "Thanks, Puffy."

"Anytime." She flashed a thumbs-up and vanished into the back again.

Ranboo slumped against the table the second she was out of sight, resting their chin on their crossed arms.

"Well," said Tommy, "that's better than going to Massachusetts."

Ranboo snorted.

"The fuck is your problem with that place?" Tubbo complained. "We live in goddamn Tennessee. How is that any better?"

"Oh, no, Tennessee also sucks. But Massachusetts is way the fuck worse."

"Literally how-"

Ranboo closed his eyes, letting the bickering of his friends wash over him like white noise.

They would move on someday. Everyone did. And Ranboo would be stuck here in the aftermath, watching them drift away like dust in his hands, ghosts among ghosts. He would be left behind and forgotten like a childhood toy at a bus stop.

He was eighteen, now. Legally, he was eighteen. He had existed for eighteen years. How much did it really matter than he had been dead for one of them? Was he forever seventeen years and three days, always aging but never growing older?

But then, Dream didn't look like a dead twelve-year-old. Maybe halfas did grow old. Who could say? It wasn't like there was anyone around to ask.

A sudden shock of cold pierced through Ranboo's core. Their breath came out in a cloud of mist. They sat bolt upright, head whipping toward the front door of the Rosebush.

Danger , their Core wailed. Danger. Danger. Danger.

"Shit," said Tubbo, effectively ending whatever argument he and Tommy had been having.

"What is it?" Tommy pressed. "How big?"

Very big. Powerful. Worryingly powerful. But the most worrying part wasn't the strength or how the ghost seemed to be approaching the Rosebush. No, it was the familiarity of the feeling.

It had been six months. Still, the feeling was a difficult one to forget. Especially considering who the feeling was attached to.

The Rosebush doors burst open to a panicked man in a neon green hoodie.

"I wouldn't be here if I had any other option," said Dream, "but I need your help."

Chapter Text

TUBBO

Chapter Text

RANBOO

Ranboo immediately switched to battle mode. "Techno, get in the air. Recon."

"On it," said Techno, ducking swiftly out the door.

"Tubbo, text Wilbur and tell him everything we know. We're gonna need all hands on deck."

"Yep." Tubbo pulled out his phone and began typing furiously.

"Tommy, you have a thermos, right?"

"Of fuckin' course I do," said Tommy, pulling one out of his backpack. "Who do you think I am?"

"Great. Get Dream in there and take it somewhere safe. Once he's-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on," Dream interrupted hotly. "I am not getting sucked back into one of those tiny metal vacuum chambers. You know you're not conscious in there, right? How the hell should I trust you not to stick me in your toilet for another five months?"

Ranboo glared at him. Their Core churned in their chest. "Okay, well, we don't trust you to be on your own because you freed the Crimson Emperor, and that's kind of more important than your feelings right now."

Dream crossed his arms. "I could have not warned you at all and you would have had to deal with the whole army on your own. I'm being diligent."

"That doesn't make me trust you."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Tommy held up his phone and showed Dream the time. "There. See? Four thirty-five. It'll take me about twenty minutes to get back to my house, maybe fifteen if I run. Phil built these new ghost prison cell thingies in the lab. If we stick you in one of those, you'll be fuckin' conscious or whatever, but we won't have to deal with your bullshit. Is that acceptable?"

Dream gritted his teeth, looking like he wanted to incinerate Tommy with his mind, then sighed. "Fine."

"Awesome. Off to Thermosland you go, then."

Dream's expression didn't change, but he allowed himself to get caught without further complaint.

Ranboo pinched the bridge of their nose. "Thank the Ancients."

"Thank me, bitch," Tommy snapped. "I have to run now. I'm doing physical activity for this dickhead."

Ranboo smiled ruefully. "Thank you, Tommy."

"You're fuckin' welcome."

With that, Tommy raced out the door, nearly running into Wilbur in the process.

"Uh, hi," said Wilbur, looking simultaneously baffled and anxious. "This is really- holy shit, that's a vine."

Tubbo tucked his phone back into his pocket. "That was fast."

"I was in the park. Why is there a vine here? I thought Hannah moved on."

"She did," said Ranboo. "We think this is part of the whole Empire invasion that's happening right now."

Wilbur straightened. "Right. What do you need us to do?"

"You have an ectogun?"

"I have two."

"Great. You and Tubbo are on ground control. Help anyone who's hurt, get people inside, try to prevent major property damage from becoming a problem, you know, the usual. We've never dealt with anything quite like this before, so be caref-"

They were cut off by a loud slam from behind them.

Everyone jumped.

"What that fuck is going on?" Puffy demanded, a tray of fresh apricot danishes scattered across the counter. Her eyes burned with a complicated mixture of panic, confusion, and rage.

"Er," said Tubbo, "how long have you been standing there?"

Puffy's fingers clenched around the edges of the tray. "I want answers. Now."

Wilbur took a few hesitant steps forward, raising his hands. "Puffy, just breathe, okay? I promise there's a reasonable explanation for all this. We just need to know how much you heard."

"No!" Puffy swatted his hands away. "I don't care about your reasonable explanations. There are vines growing in my bakery again, and Tommy just caught a- a fucking person in a ghost thermos, and you're all talking like you're about to go to war, and none of this is reasonable! I want the truth, and I want it now."

Ranboo's Core hissed against his ribs. They didn't have time for this. He caught Tubbo's eye, unsure of how to proceed.

Wilbur grimaced apologetically. "It's kind of a long story-"

"I don't care, Will! I don't have the money to keep repairing this place. Stuff keeps happening here, and you guys are always involved somehow. I deserve to know what's going on."

Wilbur glanced at Ranboo, uncertain. "I mean-"

"Ghost attack," said Tubbo bluntly.

Puffy stared at him. "What?"

"There's a ghost attack. As in, ghosts are literally invading the town as we speak. You can have your answers, but they need to fucking wait until we've dealt with this shit, okay? People could get hurt."

Ranboo's Core twisted sharply. They flinched, resting a hand against their chest.

Muffled yelling began to drift in from outside.

"Then I'm going to help." Puffy set her hands on her hips. "This is the third time my bakery has been wrecked by ghost shit. I'm coming with you."

Wilbur opened his mouth.

Ranboo cut him off. "Do you have an ectogun?"

Puffy winced. "Uh… no. It broke last week. Phil hasn't finished fixing it yet."

Of course he hadn't.

"I have an extra," Wilbur offered, holding it out. Ranboo took it and turned it over in their hands.

Puffy had pointed a gun like this at him before. More importantly, though, when she saw him after Hannah moved on, she hadn't. She could have. Her fingers had twitched around the trigger. But Ranboo had waved to her, and she had merely waved back.

"I trust her," he said to the room at large.

"So do I," said Wilbur.

Tubbo spread his hands. "It's your choice, boss man."

Outside, someone screamed. Ranboo's Core threw itself violently against their ribcage. The time for debate was over.

Ranboo allowed his transformation to wash over him and turned to Puffy as Phantom.

She stared at him in shock. Her jaw hung open. Her eyes darted across his face, filled with an unreadable emotion.

Ranboo held out the ectogun. "Welcome to the team."

Puffy swallowed. Hesitantly, she reached out and took the ectogun from Ranboo's grasp.

"Stick with Wilbur and Tubbo," he ordered. "They'll fill you in."

Her expression shifted to determination. She nodded firmly.

Ranboo nodded back. "Good luck. Don't die."

"You, too," said Tubbo.

Ranboo pressed off against the floor and flew up through the roof.

They emerged in what felt like a hurricane of soldier-shaped blob ghosts. They were everywhere, red eyes glinting behind green helmets, chewing on traffic lights and snarling at people through windows. Half the cars on the street already had dents and scratches and claw marks gouged into them.

At least blob ghosts couldn't phase through anything themselves, so people were actually safe inside. Small mercies.

Ranboo, however, may as well have had a giant glowing target on his back, as the nearest dozen blob ghosts immediately started advancing on him.

"Back off!" he roared, voice thick with static.

The blob ghosts were undeterred. One crept up from behind and dug its claws into Ranboo's shoulder.

Ranboo didn't mean to hit so hard. They honestly didn't. But purely on instinct, they lashed out with an arc of ectoenergy, and the nearest wave of blob ghosts fell to the street below in puddles of ectoplasm.

Ranboo winced. His Core panged. Internally, he cursed his halfa strength. Normal ghosts didn't have to worry about pulling their punches.

This also did not deter the advancing blob ghosts. If anything, it seemed to attract more attention. Dozens of glowing red eyes focussed on Ranboo.

Ranboo's fingers flexed. Ectoenergy sparked between them. Their Core buzzed with power.

They took a deep breath.

Sorry, Antfrost.

He flung his hands outwards, energy racing down his arms, sending out a shockwave that blasted clean through every blob ghost within three hundred feet.

It wouldn't hold them back for long. Not with an army like theirs. Hell, the blob ghosts would reform within the hour. But it cleared enough space to give Ranboo a moment to breathe.

Someone whistled from behind him. "Wow. Where was that when we were sparring yesterday?"

Ranboo whirled around to see Techno on his hoverboard, red armour spattered with green.

"Red." Something in Ranboo's Core eased at seeing their friend in one piece.

"Hi," said Techno. He gestured awkwardly to the puddles of ectoplasm on the ground. "Are we chill with doing that now, or...?"

Ranboo pursed his lips. "Not really, but I don't see a better option."

"Fair enough."

"Maybe they'll be free of the Emperor's mind control when they reform." He had no way to prove that, but it was a nice thought, at least. Or maybe he was just clinging to whatever he could to make himself feel better about melting a hundred blob ghosts at once.

Techno, for his part, didn't seem fazed at all. "Let's go with that."

Ranboo nodded, then nodded again, more firmly. "What are we dealing with?"

Techno pointed upwards. "Well. That."

Ranboo looked up to see more blob ghosts pouring out of a massive portal ripped across the sky.

"Ancients," he cursed.

Techno grunted in agreement. "I have… no ideas."

Ranboo furrowed their brow. "Do they have a leader with them? One of the Emperor's generals, maybe?"

At least, Ranboo hoped it was just one of the Emperor's generals. They weren't sure what they would do if the Emperor decided to show up himself.

"Uh, could be," said Techno. "There's a knight in red armour around here somewhere. He seemed important."

"Got it. I'll try to talk him down. You can-"

There was an unsettling crunch from below them, followed by a series of screams.

"I can deal with that," Techno decided.

"You can deal with that," Ranboo agreed. "Good luck."

"Don't die, ghost boy."

"Same to you."

Ranboo turned on his heel, fists blazing with ectoenergy, and leapt into the sea of red-eyed blob ghosts.

TUBBO

It was immediately obvious to Tubbo that they were not equipped to handle this.

There were simply too many blob ghosts. The sky was so thick with them that he could aim his ectogun just about anywhere and hit something. They went down fairly easily, but for every ghost Tubbo blasted into ecto-goo, two more came to take its place. Any regular ghost they scared off was just as soon replaced with another.

And they were also dragging along a confused and panicked third wheel.

"Ranboo is Phantom," Puffy repeated from where she stood between Tubbo and Wilbur.

"Yup," said Tubbo, blasting a blob ghost who was chewing on a telephone pole.

"Wow. I- that honestly explains so much."

Tubbbo paused to stare at her, baffled. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, your whole group is always so weird when it comes to talking about ghosts. And, sure, no one really likes Phil, but you guys talk like you actually know better, not just like you think you know better. And Phantom mentioned you being one of his friends when he was talking to Hannah."

"Huh." Tubbo returned to shooting at blob ghosts. "Well, I am."

"Yeah, you- wait." Puffy stopped in realization. "So when I said it was a good thing that Ranboo wasn't a ghost who was Obsessed with you-"

"He very much was a ghost who was Obsessed with me, yeah."

Puffy let out a groan.

Tubbo blasted a blob ghost clawing at a street sign. "To be fair, it was pretty funny in hindsight."

"Wow. I can't believe I didn't see it. They really-" Her voice got quiet. "They've really been dead this whole time."

"Half-dead, technically," said Wilbur absently, which didn't help matters.

"But I- that-" Puffy ran her hands through her hair. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, they're like that," said Tubbo. "You should shoot some blob ghosts."

Puffy startled like she had forgotten there was a ghost attack happening in the first place. She raised her borrowed ectogun and fired off a few blasts seemingly at random.

"You're giving me a full explanation after all this," she decided.

"Oh, absolutely," Tubbo agreed. "Ranboo's existence is generally baffling. But we have way the fuck bigger problems right now, so your existential crisis is gonna have to wait."

As if on cue, a squadron of blob ghosts uprooted a traffic light from a nearby intersection and began waving it around like a giant club.

Puffy shook her head and squared her shoulders. "Right. Focus."

She joined Tubbo in blasting the blob ghosts into the ground. Together, they managed to get the squadron to set the traffic light down by way of melting them, though it did land on the hood of a parked car. Tubbo winced.

Oh, well. At least now it matched the rest of the banged-up cars on the street.

A burst of red and green ectoenergy shot over the rooftops a few blocks away. The blob ghosts in its path promptly disintegrated. At its epicenter was Phantom, looking apologetic but determined.

"Aren't you ever scared of him?" Puffy asked, so quietly Tubbo almost couldn't hear her over the sounds of battle.

He rubbed his wrist. The sting of phantom bruises drifted under his skin.

"Of him?" said Tubbo. "No." Not anymore, anyway.

Another wave of ectoenergy washed through the Empire's ranks.

It was intimidating, to be sure, the knowledge that thesame hands which were now tearing through blob ghosts like wet paper had been slung around Tubbo's shoulders not half an hour earlier, but Tubbo trusted Ranboo to know their own strength. His friend was far too gentle these days to hurt anyone even by accident. Besides, they would all be screwed if Ranboo wasn't as powerful as they were.

And no one was more scared of what Ranboo was capable of than Ranboo themself.

Several blob ghosts loomed over a trio of teenagers hiding behind a nearby car. Tubbo blasted them before they could get any closer.

"You guys alright?" he asked, rushing over.

One of the teenagers nodded shakily. "Thanks."

"No problem. You should get inside somewhere safe."

"Where? We don't-"

Another teenager's eyes widened. "Behind you!"

Tubbo whirled to find a blob ghost snarling in his face. He raised his ectogun, ready to fire, when a barrage of ectoblasts ripped through the ghost from a completely different direction.

Tubbo furrowed his brow. "The fuck?"

"Over here!"

Tubbo turned.

A group of heavily armed community college students had set up a barricade around the front of their apartment building with dumpsters and aluminum trash can lids, blasting ghosts with reckless abandon. Several of them had tied bandannas around their foreheads or smeared black streaks under their eyes like guerilla war paint. One of them had a Super Soaker instead of an ectogun, which wasn't particularly effective against ghosts, but that didn't seem to deter them.

One of the students waved frantically to the huddled teenagers. "Come on, get inside!"

"Go," said Tubbo. "I'll cover you."

The teenagers hesitated, then made a mad dash toward the trash brigade. Tubbo picked off any blob ghosts who got too close for comfort. The college students ushered the teenagers inside the second they arrived, spraying ectoblasts to keep the ghosts at bay.

"Why are you still out here?" Tubbo called. "Get inside! It's not safe!"

"Yeah, no shit!" the student yelled back.

Another student grinned. "Are you kidding me? This is where all the action is!"

A blob ghost swooped down over their shoulder. Tubbo shot it in the face.

The student jumped, whirling around to see the remains, then gave Tubbo a thumbs up. "Thanks, kid!"

Tubbo frowned and opened his mouth to reply. One of the other students abruptly fired their ectogun right above Tubbo's head. He ducked on instinct, just in time for the blast to strike a blob ghost in the chest, sending bits of ecto-goo raining down around him.

Wilbur grabbed him by the shoulder. "Come on. Leave them be. We've got bigger problems."

"They don't know what they're doing," Tubbo protested. "They could get hurt."

Puffy blasted a blob ghost chewing on an eaves trough. "So could you."

"They're doing just fine," said Wilbur. "Besides, we need all the help we can get."

Tubbo watched the trash brigade out of the corner of his eye as he continued shooting down ghosts. Already, they were ushering in a new group of people, covering their tracks with blaster fire. The ground was becoming slick with puddles of ectoplasm. The air smelled of ozone. A tangy, electric taste buzzed against Tubbo's tongue.

Another shockwave of red and green ectoenergy exploded from further away. For all the blob ghosts they were melting, the Empire's ranks didn't seem to be getting any thinner.

The portal in the sky remained open. Reinforcements kept pouring out.

They really did need the help.

"Fine," Tubbo relented. "But you're explaining to Ranboo if one of them gets hurt."

"Fine by me," said Wilbur.

There was a flash of pink somewhere in the throng of green. Tubbo squinted at it for a moment, then got distracted by several blob ghosts attempting to uproot a fire hydrant and brushed it off as unimportant.

"Did you see that?" Puffy asked.

Wilbur shot another blob ghost in the face. "See what?"

"That flash of pink. It looked like- it might have been Niki."

Wilbur immediately shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We have a job to do. We have to stay focused." There was a dull edge to his tone.

"I saw it," Tubbo offered, if only for sympathy. "Maybe she's helping us."

Puffy pursed her lips, unconvinced. "Maybe."

Tubbo didn't voice the rest of his thoughts – that the Emperor could mind control regular ghosts, too, not just blob ghosts, that all that mattered was how long anyone spent around him before they were caught. It wouldn't help.

Another flash of pink. This one was closer. Tubbo resolutely kept his focus on the blob ghosts by the fire hydrant.

"Please don't be Niki," Puffy begged under her breath. "I can't see her like that. Not again."

A high-pitched giggle erupted over the sound of battle. "Better luck next time, sugarplums!"

Tubbo froze. His gaze snapped upwards.

"No," Puffy whispered brokenly.

The sea of blob ghosts parted before Niki like the royal guard announcing the Queen. She looked almost the same as she had during the first attack a year ago. Same floral dress, same cream apron burnt around the edges, same pastel pink hair floating around her chin. Still, something about her was… different. Her smile was too sweet, verging on the edge of toxic. Her fingers twitched and sparked at her sides.

And her eyes were glowing a deep, bloody red.

"Fuck," Wilbur breathed.

"She's been brainwashed," Tubbo realized.

Puffy made a pained keening noise and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Niki just grinned at them. "Oh, you poor souls. You really think a bunch of humans can stand up to the might of the Crimson Empire? You'll get squashed. Like bugs." She giggled again. The sound made Tubbo's skin crawl.

Wilbur swallowed roughly, then raised his ectogun.

Niki's eyes flashed dangerously. "Now, now, none of that. The Emperor won't have any resistance."

A group of blob ghosts tried to sneak up behind them. Tubbo turned to shoot them down.

"Niki, no," Puffy managed. "Please, it's me. Remember? Your sunflower?"

Niki tilted her head at an angle just sharp enough to be unnatural. She blinked at Puffy for a few moments.

"Sun-flower," she said eventually, robotic and emotionless. "Yes. There are many sunflowers in the Crimson Empire. Perhaps you would like to surrender and join us."

Puffy shook her head. "This isn't you, Niki."

Niki loomed over her, teeth bared in a loose approximation of a grin. "Oh, sweetheart. This has always been me."

Wilbur shot Niki in the shoulder.

Niki reeled back, hissing. Her hand came up to clutch the wound. Puffy reached out, an aborted movement to offer help.

Niki's expression turned furious. The glow in her eyes burned bloody.

"Oh, shit," said Wilbur.

"You," Niki growled. "You fool. You insolent worm. You will pay for that slight against the Crimson Empire!"

She hurtled a swath of ectoenergy at them.

Wilbur ducked. Tubbo tackled Puffy out of the way. The blast singed a charred line across the road, licking at Tubbo's ankles.

Tubbo twisted himself away from Puffy enough to shoot Niki again. When he looked up, though, she was gone, vanished back into the sea of blob ghosts like she'd never been there at all.

"Niki," Puffy managed, voice thick.

Wilbur held out a hand to help her up. It shook. So did his voice when he spoke. "She's under the influence of the Emperor, Puffy. There's nothing we can do."

Puffy allowed herself to stand, but her eyes stayed trained on the spot Niki had disappeared.

That could be Ranboo if we don't win, Tubbo's brain provided helpfully.

Tubbo gritted his teeth. That wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

He raised his ectogun and kept going.

TOMMY

Tommy hated running. Even now that his ankle had finally healed, it still sucked ass. This was why he hadn't taken gym class since tenth grade.

His lungs burned with each inhale. His legs were molten lead. His mouth tasted of blood from overexertion.

He had one thing going for him, though: Tommy was six feet tall. Which meant he had very long legs. Which meant, whether he liked it or not, he could run fast as fuck.

He caught the time on a digital billboard. Four forty-three. Seven minutes left.

He gritted his teeth and ran faster.

Blob ghosts darted in and out of his path. He kept a tight grip on his ectogun, blasting any that got too close, which was most of them. There were so many that even when he inevitably missed, he still hit something.

He passed people screaming and yelling for each other. Anyone with an ectogun was firing wildly at the sky. Someone was trying to whack the Empire ghosts with a pool noodle. Several others were trying desperately to lift a telephone pole that had fallen on their friend. A fire had started on someone's front lawn. Two guys were trying to put it out with a garden hose.

Tommy gritted his teeth. Ranboo had better fix this shit, and fast. Normal-ass people weren't equipped to fight off a full-scale ghost invasion.

Still, he could help at least some of these people, right? Surely Dream could handle being in the thermos a few more minutes-

Tommy's toe hit a crack in the sidewalk. He went sprawling, barely catching himself on his hands, nose inches from the ground. His ectogun skittered across the pavement. Dream's thermos rolled out into the street.

Tommy cursed, scrambling for his ectogun. His knees and palms stung with road rash. He ignored it and pushed himself to his feet, scanning the road for the thermos.

A miraculously undamaged car whooshed past. It missed Tommy by inches.

Tommy raced across the street and cursed again. Where the fuck was it? The stupid thermos had been right there a second ago. Had it gotten knocked away? The car hadn't driven over it, had it? No, it couldn't have, surely Dream would be free if it was broken-

He was so engrossed in his search that he ran directly into Jack.

"Oof," said Jack. Then, "Oh, Tommy-"

"Fuck off, dickhead," Tommy cut him off with a glare, breathing hard. "I don't have time for your fuckin' conspiracy theories."

Jack frowned. "I wasn't going to-"

"I don't care." Tommy pushed past him. There was a slight hill here, so the thermos would have rolled this way, right? "I don't know if you've noticed, but we kind of have bigger fuckin' problems to worry about."

A blob ghost lunged at Tommy's face, snarling. Tommy raised his ectogun and shot it point-blank. It shrieked and melted into a puddle of ectoplasm at his feet.

"You were looking for this, right?"

Tommy whipped around.

The thermos sat innocently in Jack's outstretched hand like it had never tried to run away.

"I want to help," Jack said.

No pointed comments. No conspiracy-fueled rants. No yelling about Ranboo and Phantom. Nothing.

Tommy stared at him for a moment, then snatched the thermos back. "Get inside. Get other people inside. Don't go picking any fuckin' fights with these guys, but if they get too close, blast 'em. Let us handle the rest."

Which was probably just as good as a full confirmation, but Jack didn't say anything about it. He just nodded seriously and ran off.

Huh. That sure was something.

Tommy kept running.

The closer he got to his house, the more blob ghosts he encountered. They all seemed to be heading in vaguely the same direction. Most of them paid him no mind as he dashed between them, blasting them in the back when he had the chance.

He skidded to a halt about a fifty feet from his front door and ducked behind a bush in the neighbour's yard to catch his breath.

The blob ghosts were converging on Phil, because of fucking course they were. They had him surrounded in the middle of the street. He spun on his heel, firing his ectogun constantly, but the shots didn't seem to be having the same effect that Tommy's did. The ghosts just kept creeping closer and closer, leering with their glowing red eyes, flashing sharp claws and pointed teeth.

Fucking hell. Why did Tommy have to get adopted by the stupidest fucking ghost hunter on the planet?

One of the blob ghosts brushed Phil's back. Another reached for his ankles. He barely reacted in time to shoot them both back.

Tommy's lungs complained they still didn't have enough oxygen in them. Tommy told them to shut the fuck up and stop being pussies.

He brandished his ectogun, let out a bellowing war cry, and blasted his way through the wall of ghosts.

"What- Tommy?" Phil spluttered, his aim faltering for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass, bitch," Tommy declared, hoping the bravado would disguise how out of breath he was. "You're fuckin' welcome."

He positioned himself firmly at Phil's back and kept firing. Miraculously, Phil didn't ask any more questions. Between the two of them, they managed to drive a good chunk of the blob ghosts away, leaving a ring of ecto-sludge around them on the road.

"We need to get inside," Phil urged once they were no longer in immediate danger of getting slashed to ribbons. "Give me your ectogun."

Tommy turned to frown at him. "Why? I've been doing just fine, thank you very much."

"I'm a better shot than you, Tommy."

Tommy bristled. "Oh, yeah, and that's done you real fuckin' great recently, hasn't it?" The words came out with more venom than he intended.

Phil was taken aback. "Tommy-"

Tommy blasted the half-dozen blob ghosts between them and the front door into puddles.

"You're fuckin' welcome, bitch," Tommy snapped.

Phil just stared.

The blob ghosts snarled from behind them. Tommy grabbed Phil's arm and pulled him toward the front door.

Overhead, Phantom let out great red and green bursts of ectoenergy. Phil muttered something unsavoury under his breath. Tommy resisted the urge to throttle him.

"Are you okay?" Phil asked as Tommy slammed the door behind them. "That was stressful, but you don't normally snap like that."

Tommy rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily. "The fuck do you think, Phil?"

Phil grimaced. "I know. I'm sorry."

You don't know, though, Tommy thought. Not really.

"I wish I knew why this was happening," Phil continued. "Then I could… reverse-engineer it somehow, find a way to stop it. It doesn't help that Phantom is flying around making everything worse, as usual."

"They fuckin' are not," Tommy growled.

Phil gave him that indulgent, patronizing look. "Right."

"And don't you have that fuckin' ghost shield thing? Why can't you just put one of those over the town?"

Phil's brow crinkled in consideration. "I wish it was that simple, Tommy, but I only just figured out how to make it work. It's nowhere near big enough to cover all of Essempy Park."

Tommy flapped a hand vaguely. "Then fuckin' use more than one."

"That's not-" Phil stopped. He tilted his head, expression pensive. "More than one…?"

Tommy straightened and stretched his back. His legs were burning something fierce. "You wanna share with the class, or just stare off into space?"

Phil blinked like he had forgotten Tommy was there. He clapped a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Tommy Innit Minecraft, you are a genius and probably just saved a whole lot of lives."

Tommy's eyes went wide. "Uh, what?"

Phil didn't bother to explain. Instead, he dashed down to the lab with the air of a determined toddler.

Tommy followed him, hand clenched around Dream's thermos in his pocket. "I'm sorry, can you elaborate on how I'm a genius? I mean, I know that, obviously, but maybe in this particular instance you'd like to explain why."

"No time." Phil tossed a variety of tools into a bag and gathered up the shield generator in his arms. "I'll explain after I get it to work."

He bustled back up the stairs without another word.

"Fuckin' weirdo," said Tommy.

He walked over to the containment chambers, which thankfully had the shields already down over the front. Tommy didn't trust his ability to decipher Phil's tech enough to know which button turned them on. He stuck the thermos through the shield, wrinkling his nose as it buzzed against the skin on his hands, then released Dream and made a hasty retreat.

Dream blinked blearily, eyes slowly refocusing on his surroundings.

"Cozy," he remarked.

Tommy crossed his arms. "I fuckin' ran halfway across town for this, bitch. You better treat this like a fuckin' five-star hotel."

Dream lazily stretched his arms. "Does it come with room service?"

"Fuck you."

"That's a no, then. Shame. I was looking forward to treating myself."

Tommy sighed heavily and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

"Fuckin' what?" Tommy groused.

Dream tapped his wrist. "Show me the time."

"Seriously?"

"Hey, you said fifteen to twenty minutes!"

"I said maybe," Tommy grumbled, but he pulled out his phone anyway. "There. See? Twenty minutes."

Dream squinted at the time. "That was twenty-five minutes."

"By the fuckin'- whatever. Just stay there."

"It's not like I can leave."

Tommy paused, struck by a realization. "And maybe turn invisible when Phil comes down here. He probably won't like random ghosts showing up in his lab."

Dream raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Oh, no, my evil plans have been foiled. I so desperately wanted to be discovered by the most notorious ghost-hater in town. I can't wait to be ripped apart molecule by molecule."

It was Tommy's turn to be unimpressed. "You know what, never fuckin' mind. Phil would probably be thrilled to have you. Do what you want."

"I will, thanks."

Tommy scanned Phil's stockpile of ectoweapons. His Tomzooka was in there, right? Maybe that would be more effective against an invasion like this.

"I wouldn't go back out there," Dream advised.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "No one fuckin' asked you."

"No, really." Dream pressed a hand against his chest. "I'm concerned for you, Tommy. I know you're not as good at fighting ghosts as the rest of your friends. They even gave you the easy job of taking me here instead of helping them fight the Empire. I just don't want you getting yourself into something more than you can handle."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," Tommy snapped, whirling around and jabbing a finger at him. "You don't know shit about me."

Dream held up his hands. "Sorry. Didn't realize I touched a nerve, there."

He kept his palms facing Tommy. If there wasn't a shield in between them, Tommy would have worried about getting fried with an ectoblast.

As it was, Tommy just scoffed and shook his head. "Fuckin'- whatever, man. I don't have to listen to your bullshit. We have bigger problems."

"If you say so."

Tommy ignored him. He swapped his ectogun with the most easily available upgrade and stalked back upstairs, his legs complaining all the way.

It didn't matter what the fuck Dream thought he was talking about. Tommy had a town to save.

Chapter Text

RANBOO

Ranboo swiftly lost count of how many blob ghosts he melted.

It had to have been in the hundreds by now, maybe even the thousands. He hated it. He hated their beady red eyes, the way they lunged at him with no regard for their own personal safety, the way they simply refused to back off until they were puddles on the ground.

They were just animals. But animals still felt pain.

And yet-

A squadron of blob ghosts descended on an apartment building, clawing at the brick and scratching the glass. The panicked yelling of the people inside was audible even through the blocked windows.

Ranboo's Core hissed. Protect, protect, protect.

"Oh, do not," Ranboo muttered under their breath.

They flung out their hands. Ectoenergy arched from their fingers, cleaving the ghosts from the wall.

The people inside were safe. Still, Ranboo couldn't help but feel their hands were sticky with blood.

It would help if that red-armoured general would show up. Then maybe Ranboo could talk his way out of getting his haunt invaded. As it stood, though, this looked like a case where violence actually was the answer.

There was a brush of cold against Ranboo's Core and a tingle across the back of their neck. They ducked just in time for a crimson ectoblast to shoot over their head.

"Hey, halfa!"

Ranboo turned to see a ghost with red eyes and a white hoodie grinning at him.

"You should surrender," Hoodie urged. "The Emperor's patience doesn't last forever, you know. He won't be so kind if you keep resisting him."

Ranboo gestured incredulously to the mess the Empire was making of their town. "You call this kind?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Ranboo shook his head. "You've been brainwashed. The Emperor is tricking you into going to war for him, but you don't have to do that. You can let go. I can help you. We don't have to fight like this."

Hoodie's grin sharpened. Ectoenergy crackled across his knuckles. "All hail the Crimson Emperor."

Ranboo sighed.

Hoodie lunged, fists blazing. Ranboo easily ducked out of the way. They grabbed him by the leg, whirled around in midair, and launched him up towards the portal in the sky.

It wouldn't delay him for long – it hadn't dissuaded any of the brainwashed non-blob ghosts so far – but it was better than melting him. He, at leased, deserved a chance.

And the blob ghosts don't? asked a bitter part of Ranboo's brain.

He ignored it. There were bigger problems.

More blob ghosts lunged at him. He blasted them away. Rinse and repeat.

Their limbs were growing heavy. Already, their reflexes had slowed enough to just barely avoid getting clawed in the shoulder. Their Core was running itself ragged trying to muster up extra energy to keep them going.

Still, it kept on chanting. Protect, protect, protect. So Ranboo kept fighting.

Then, out of nowhere, a dousing wave of ice crashed over his Core. His breath came out in a thick cloud. His limbs seized up, tense with instinctual fear.

Ranboo turned.

A ghost decked out in red armour hovered over the town, surveying the chaos with a calculating eye. He seemed to be cut from a slab of crystal. Everything about him was sharp and polished, gleaming in the light, a brilliant gem above the carnage below. He carried a sword of that same polished crystal material. His helmet covered nearly his entire face, showing only his eyes, which glowed bright Empire red.

Ranboo's Core churned in their chest. Whoever this knight was, his raw power was comparable to that of Queen Eret or Dream, and that wasn't something Ranboo wanted to deal with on their best days.

This was not one of their best days.

"Um," said Ranboo intelligently. "Excuse me, Sir Knight, but could you maybe call off your forces? This is kinda my home and I don't really appreciate unwanted visitors."

The knight turned its head like a smooth stone statue and fixed his penetrating red gaze on Ranboo.

"Ah," he greeted, "the famed Phantom of Essempy Park. I'm surprised you've decided to show your face."

Ranboo narrowed their eyes. Their tail lashed behind them. "You're invading my haunt. Of course I'm going to show up. And I'm really not happy about it, so could you do me the honour of leaving before anyone else gets hurt?"

"Why? By all accounts, you appear to be losing."

Because you have an army and we don't, Ranboo wanted to say, but he didn't. No sense in handing out information like that to the enemy.

Besides, Ranboo wasn't fighting alone anymore.

A blob ghost tried to bite his foot. He kicked it in the mouth. "Look, I don't know what I did to deserve any of this. I don't want to fight you. If you could just call off this whole invasion so we could talk without having to melt anyone, I'm sure we could figure out some sort of compromise."

The knight laughed. The sound grated against Ranboo's spine. "The Emperor was right. Your hands are soft."

Ranboo bristled. "Excuse me?"

"Talking is weakness, halfa. Fight or surrender. The Crimson Empire would appreciate your cooperation."

Danger, Ranboo's Core buzzed. Danger, danger, danger.

"You should leave," Ranboo tried one last time, "before things get dangerous."

The knight's eyes merely glinted sharply. "Is that a challenge?"

"More like a warning."

The knight spread his arms, sword held loosely in one hand. "By all means, then. Deal the first blow."

Ranboo's Core hissed and he blasted the knight directly in the faceplate. The blast rolled harmlessly off the armour. The knight reeled back in midair, shocked.

"You dealt the first blow when you invaded my home," Ranboo snapped.

The knight's eyes crinkled at the corners like he was smiling. "Fascinating. The Emperor will be pleased to hear about this."

Ranboo lunged, ectoenergy crackling between their fingers, aiming for a chink in the knight's armour around his shoulder. The knight slashed his sword in a clean arc. Ranboo hastily shifted their attack into a shield, redirecting the blow to the side.

Right. Sword. Ranboo would need a different strategy if he didn't want to lose an arm.

They punched out two more ectoblasts at the knight's hip joints. The knight twisted lazily, allowing the blasts to glance off his armour where it was most durable. His sword carved a thin line across Ranboo's shin. Ranboo hissed.

…Okay. That also didn't work, but it narrowed down the possibilities of what might.

The knight twirled his sword. "You've never fought an Ancient before, have you?"

"Actually, I have," said Ranboo, batting away a blob ghost clawing at his ear. He decidedly did not mention the fact that Queen Eret had most certainly beaten him and let Techno catch her on purpose.

The knight scoffed. "Not a real Ancient, clearly. You would have been able to sense it."

Ranboo froze. His eyes went wide. His Core recoiled.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself." The knight gave a sweeping bow. "I am Sir Skeppy, Knight of the Ghost Zone and right hand to the Crimson Emperor."

The Knight. Not just any knight. The Knight.

Ancients. No wonder he felt so powerful.

"Speechless?" Sir Skeppy rested his sword against his shoulder. "So was I, back when I was young. I was foolish enough to believe a mere common spirit could stand against the might of the Crimson Emperor. But he was patient with me, and forgiving when I realized my wrongdoings, and now he's generously granted me the strength to become this."

He spread his arms. Crimson ectoenergy crackled down his sword.

Ranboo frowned, squinting at the joints in Sir Skeppy's armour. He had moved out of the way of Ranboo's shots. He was defending the weak points, which meant they could be exploited. Ranboo just needed to get close enough to pry them apart.

"I will allow you that same generosity now, halfa," Sir Skeppy continued. "You may surrender and join us, and your playthings will remain under your control. We could do great things together."

Ranboo's eyes locked on a chunk of crystal armour on Sir Skeppy's leg which stuck out just a bit too far. "Or I could not do that and you could leave."

Sir Skeppy narrowed his eyes. "I will not be so-"

Ranboo blasted him in the face again. As Sir Skeppy raised his sword to block, Ranboo ducked and grabbed the leg armour, ripping it away with all his strength. It broke off with a wet crack, the edges digging into Ranboo's hands.

Sir Skeppy howled. He brought down his sword on Ranboo's head. Ranboo hastily pulled up a shield to deflect it.

"Is that how you plan to defeat us?" Sir Skeppy snarled. "Dirty halfa tricks?"

Ranboo eyed the broken chunk of armour, which was dripping with green like Sir Skeppy's skin had come off with it. "If it gets you to leave, then yes."

"Fine. Have it your way."

He raised his sword above his head and bellowed something at the sky. Ranboo took advantage of the distraction and dug their claws under the edge of his chestplate, snapping away the bottom half. Sir Skeppy's resulting shriek left their ears ringing. They pulled a shield over their head just in time to block another blow from Sir Skeppy's sword.

Ranboo's Core ached. His limbs felt heavy. His tail dragged in the air behind him.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going.

"You'll pay for that!" Sir Skeppy snapped.

In response, Ranboo blasted him in the freshly unarmoured spot on his chest.

Sir Skeppy doubled over. His sword wavered in Ranboo's direction. Ranboo easily danced around it.

They were moving toward his back when their Core sent a shock of ice through their entire body. Their limbs seized with an impending sense of dread. A foreign pressure pushed at Ranboo's mind.

Submit, it seemed to say. Submit. Submit. Submit.

Against his will, he looked up.

A ghost waited just beyond the rip in the sky. He was huge and completely pitch black, like a void cut from the very fabric of reality, a hulking shadow over the Ghost Zone's emerald sky. His blood red eyes seemed to stare clear through Ranboo's soul. A wreath of crimson flames burned around his head like a crown. He slowly tilted his head like he knew Ranboo could see him.

The Crimson Emperor.

By the Ancients.

Ranboo's Core quailed in fear and curled itself into a tiny knot behind their sternum. Their body remained frozen in place. Their eyes stayed locked on the vast nothingness of the Emperor's face. As they watched, it split into a jagged, sharp-toothed grin, mouth and throat glowing the same bloody red as his eyes.

Sir Skeppy shifted at the edge of Ranboo's peripheral vision. His sword flashed red. Ranboo tensed, trying to force his limbs to move, to turn intangible, to do something, but he couldn't even move his eyes from the Emperor. His Core remained tucked away like a terrified child.

A splitting pain erupted across Ranboo's back. This, finally, was enough for him to move, if only to cry out.

"Welcome to the Crimson Empire," Sir Skeppy purred in his ear. "We're so pleased to have you."

Another slash across their back. Their legs abruptly went numb.

Submit. Submit. Submit.

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut and drove his elbow backwards. It collided with Sir Skeppy's arm, knocking his next blow off-course. Ranboo pulled at his Core, yearning desperately for some form of defence, but the best he could manage was twisting to the side as Sir Skeppy brought down his sword again. It sliced across Ranboo's side. Several of his ribs made concerning cracking noises.

It became a barrage. Suddenly, Sir Skeppy was everywhere, sword twirling and slashing and stabbing. Ranboo's Core remained uncooperative. They writhed in midair, trying to keep Sir Skeppy at bay with only flat palms and flailing arms. The Emperor's presence remained a debilitating weight over their mind.

Submit. Submit. Submit.

Get out of my head, Ranboo begged.

The only answer was an echoing crackle of static from above that might have been laughter.

Blob ghosts started shrieking in the distance. Dimly, Ranboo became aware of a thin film of green spreading across the town, pushing ghosts along with it. Some part of him recognized it as a ghost shield.

Sir Skeppy must have noticed it, too, because he laughed. "Your pitiful human machines are no match for the might of the Crimson Empire. They will always fail, sooner or later."

The shield raced toward them. Frantically, Ranboo turned their focus inward and yanked, forcing their Core out of submission. Their vision clouded with purple.

Vwoop.

"Whoa," said Techno, catching Ranboo as he collapsed against him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Take your retreat, Phantom," Sir Skeppy sneered from the other side of the shield. "Hide if you must. But you cannot stop the Crimson Empire. We will continue our crusade to the ends of the Ghost Zone, and we will bring all of it down on your head if you do not surrender. This is your only warning."

Ranboo's eyelids fluttered. All his remaining strength drained from his limbs. His Core fluttered weakly. Techno was saying something, but he couldn't make out what it was.

His eyes flicked to the sky. Just before everything faded to black, he thought he saw the Emperor wave.

PHIL

Phil stood triumphantly on the roof, hands on his hips, surveying the shield generator with pride. It was cobbled together from nearly a dozen different prototypes and attached with duct tape and a wish, but it worked. The shield reached several hundred feet in the air and spread over the ground like a toxic green milk bubble.

Use more than one. Why hadn't he thought of that before? It was so simple, so obvious, and yet he had never once considered it. He supposed this was what he got for spending all his time alone in the lab without anyone there to spell out when he was being an idiot.

God, he missed Kristin.

The shield worked like a charm. It pushed all the ghosts and stray ectoplasm out of Essempy Park like a giant electric fishnet, leaving the people and buildings unharmed. The ghosts hissed and snarled from outside. Any who tried to pass through the shield received a nasty ectoelectric shock for their troubles.

Phil should have implemented something like this months ago. It could have saved everyone a great deal of headache. Maybe Phantom would have been contained long before he ever had the chance to play hero.

Ah, well. Bygones. The shield was here now, and that was what mattered.

Phil squinted at the sky. The portal was still wide open, but ghosts had stopped pouring out of it, seeing the rest of their army camped uselessly beyond the shield. The shadow with blood red eyes had vanished. As the haze of adrenaline faded, Phil became more and more convinced his mind had been playing tricks on him. After all, no ghost is that big.

A speck of red caught his eye. He turned to see the Red Hunter floating just above the rooftops, making their way toward him.

That was odd. The Red Hunter had never bothered to say more than five words to him. Maybe this whole ghost invasion had changed their mind and they wanted to debrief about the battle. Maybe they would let Phil ask questions about their hoverboard. It seemed unlikely, but Phil could dream.

The Red Hunter carried an unidentifiable, unwieldy black and white lump in their arms. At first glance, it looked like some kind of large sack, but the longer Phil watched, the more person-shaped it became.

Phil frowned. He scooted forward on the roof to the overhang in front of his bedroom window.

Was that… Phantom?

No. It couldn't have been. Phantom should have been pushed out of town along with the other ghosts.

But it was.

Phantom's head lolled against the Red Hunter's shoulder, eyes closed and face slack with unconsciousness. His entire body was decorated with wide gashes leaking bright green ectoplasm. Parts of his suit had been burned away, leaving charred skin and tacky green blisters behind. His limbs dangled limply in the air, one arm twitching weakly.

Phil's eyebrows shot up. Wow. He'd seen Phantom hurt before, but never this badly, and never to the point of supposed unconsciousness. He wasn't even sure ghosts could get knocked unconscious.

But if Phantom was faking, surely he wouldn't let one of his known rivals carry him around like this, and especially not in the direction of Phil's lab.

Well. Whatever the case, whatever the Red Hunter had done, Phantom was finally vulnerable enough to capture, and that would put an end to this whole ordeal.

Phil allowed himself a brief celebratory fist pump before refocussing.

It was odd that the Red Hunter didn't have Phantom in a thermos. They had used one before. Had it gotten lost or broken during the battle? Phil wouldn't blame them. He'd lost his fair share of thermoses over the past year. Still, it meant they were all in danger if Phantom decided to call off the ruse and stop playing unconscious.

And if, somehow, he actually was unconscious, Phil could figure it all out in the lab.

Phil uncapped his own thermos. He crouched as close to the edge of the roof as he dared and aimed it at Phantom, waiting as the Red Hunter drew nearer.

Steady now, he coached himself. Almost there.

You've got this, sweetheart, he imagined Kristin saying.

The Red Hunter's head jerked toward Phil. They shifted Phantom enough to free one hand and waved it like they were signalling Phil to wait. Phil hesitated.

Phantom's head slipped off the Red Hunter's shoulder. His eyelids fluttered, briefly flashing dull red and pale green. His face twisted in a mockery of pain. The Red Hunter hastily readjusted their grip.

And just like that, they were in range.

Phil turned on the thermos.

Phantom's eyes widened. He struggled against the Red Hunter, but his limbs barely moved and the Red Hunter's grip held firm. In a flash of blue light, the Phantom of Essempy Park was caught in Phil's very own ghost thermos.

Phil stared at it breathlessly as he twisted the cap back on. He did it. He actually did it. Finally, finally, the streets would be safe again. No longer would Phantom terrorize the town under the guise of saving it. No longer would the undead swarm the land of the living.

There was still the small matter of the army beyond the shield, but Phil was confident he could solve that problem soon enough. After all, he held all the answers in his hands.

His mind raced with ideas. Experiments he could perform. Theories he could test. Inventions he could create. Suddenly, the possibilities seemed endless. Phil could change the world with this.

And when all was said and done, he could go home to his kids and finally be a proper dad, resting easy knowing they were finally safe.

"What the hell was that?"

Phil's head snapped up to find the Red Hunter looming over him, still keeping a healthy distance but closer than they had ever been before, staring down through their featureless black visor.

"Why did you do that, Phil?" they demanded. "What is wrong with you?"

"I caught the ghost boy," Phil replied, which was perhaps not the most eloquent of responses.

The Red Hunter huffed irritably. "I can see that. I asked you why."

Phil's brow crinkled in confusion. "Because you hadn't yet? I assumed you lost your thermos somewhere, so you brought Phantom to me directly instead. Fantastic work beating him, by the way. You'll have to tell me how you did that later. I've never seen him lose so badly."

The Red Hunter spluttered. "Wh- I didn't- you think I-?"

Phil's frown deepened. "Didn't you?"

The Red Hunter made an exasperated noise and dragged their hands down their visor. "Just- just give me the thermos, Phil."

And if it were any other ghost, Phil wouldn't have hesitated to comply, but something about this felt off. Phil clutched the thermos closer to his chest. "Why?"

"Why? Because I need it."

"What for?"

"That's Phantom in there."

"He'll do a lot more good in the lab with me."

The Red Hunter made a choked noise. "Give me the thermos, Phil."

"No." Phil took a half step back. "I don't get it. I'm not going to tell people I caught Phantom single-handedly, if that's what you're worried about. Everyone already knows you're a better ghost hunter than me."

"I don't care about that. I care about the safety of the town."

"But I have completely ghost-proof containment cells in my lab. Phantom has no chance of escape. He won't pose a danger to anyone but me, and I can handle it."

The Red Hunter scoffed. "What, and you think you can fight off all that on your own?" They jabbed their finger at the red-eyed army of ghosts beyond the shield, hurling ectoblasts and gnashing their teeth at the townsfolk within.

"I'm sure I can figure out-" Phil stopped short. His heart dropped into his stomach. "You're going to let him go."

"Give me the thermos, Phil," the Red Hunter repeated. They made no move to refute the claim.

"No." Phil shook his head. "No, I can't do that."

"Phil-"

"Why would you want to let him go? He's a menace. He destroys property, he puts people in needless danger, and he's somehow got everyone convinced that he's the hero. Don't tell me you've been sucked in by his ruse, too."

"Phantom is the only one who stands half a chance against that army."

"I'll come up with something. I can't risk having this ectoplasmic scum get free and cause more damage. My kids live here."

The Red Hunter tipped their head back and scoffed. "Yeah, you really care so much about your kids, don't you?"

Phil was taken aback by the vitriol in their tone. "Of course I do. I love them. They're my kids. And if I have to grab every single ghost out there and shove them into thermoses with my bare hands to keep my kids safe, then I will."

The Red Hunter just stared at Phil in silence. Their fingers twitched over the ectoswords on their belt.

Phil shifted his weight, feeling behind himself for his open bedroom window. "Look, if you want to help with the army, that would be great. But I'm not taking chances on Phantom."

The Red Hunter lunged. Phil moved faster, diving through the window and landing in an awkward roll on the floor. He slammed it shut behind him just in time. The Red Hunter pounded a fist against the glass, leaving a trail of cracks but no breaks.

Phil gave them a disappointed look. "I really looked up to you, you know. I thought you were everything I wanted to be. Whenever you realize Phantom isn't a hero, you know where to find me. Until then, stay out of my way."

The Red Hunter flinched like Phil had physically slapped them across the face.

Phil paid them no mind. He turned on his heel and strode out of his bedroom.

He had Phantom captured and the shield was up. The town and his kids were safe for now. That was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

RANBOO

Ranboo woke up in a cramped cell.

Everything hurt. His arms, his legs, his chest, even his tail. His entire body felt like one giant bruise. Thin cuts and deep gashes littered his skin like seams on a patchwork quilt. His mouth tasted like copper and battery acid.

Ranboo groaned, shuffling around and trying to maneuver their limbs in a way that didn't cause them to seize in agony, which was not an easy task in the narrow space. Their tail brushed against something electrified and they hissed at the shock. Their ribs ground against each other as they shifted. Probably cracked. Awesome.

They pushed themself into a sitting position to see Phil grinning at them from the other side of a ghost shield.

Great. As if today couldn't get any worse.

Phil's grin only widened when he noticed Ranboo looking at him.

"It's so surreal to see you like this," he mused, smug and victorious. "All those months of you terrorizing the town while convincing everyone you're playing hero, and now you're finally here in my lab. I almost can't believe I actually caught you."

Ranboo blinked blearily, mind still foggy from unconsciousness. "Uh."

"And let me tell you, it was not easy. I had to pry you out of the Red Hunter's hands to get you down here. I really thought they were too smart to fall for your propaganda, but apparently not. You ectoplasmic scum are tricky bastards."

Ranboo gave himself a quick once-over to make sure he hadn't changed back to human form by accident. "Okay."

"What, nothing more to say? Does the phase-proof cell scare you? That thing's quite the feat of engineering, if I do say so myself. It's completely sealed. No ghost could possibly get out of there."

Ranboo squinted at Phil. They briefly considered teleporting just to prove Phil wrong, but the slightest nudge at their exhausted Core promptly convinced them otherwise. They barely had the energy to summon an ectoblast right now. Teleporting would just end with them passed out on the floor of Phil's lab, and that was really the opposite of helpful.

Also, Phil caught him. He had been caught by Phil. He should probably be more worried about that.

Phil stepped closer to the shield, eyes glinting with anticipation. "I've got so many plans for you. I'm going to take you apart and figure out what makes you tick. You will be the thing that finally lets me get rid of all ghosts once and for all. And when I'm done, once I've wrung every last drop of scientific advancement from your sorry ectoplasmic corpse…" His lip curled over his teeth in a way he probably thought was intimidating. "I'm going to rip you apart for what you've done to my town. Molecule. By. Molecule."

And maybe, six months ago, Ranboo would have been scared by that. But Ranboo had stared down Hannah and Dream and countless others and come out on top, and his entire body ached from his battle with Sir Skeppy, and the Crimson Empire was swarming around the edges of his haunt, and he would love nothing more than to pass out for the next fourteen hours.

"That's not very nice of you," Ranboo said absently. Their voice came out rough.

Phil seemed genuinely taken aback. "Really? That's it? You're completely at my mercy, here. That doesn't scare you?"

"I mean, no, not really." Ranboo picked at a tear in his jumpsuit. The wound beneath it stung. "You're just, like, some guy with a lab. And you were the one who built that portal in the first place. Did you really think ghosts wouldn't come through?"

Phil crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "We'll fix that, don't you worry."

"Which part?"

"All of it. I've got big plans for you, ghost boy. You and I are going to change the world, and when we're done, it will be safer without you in it."

He spun on his heel and stalked out of the lab.

Ranboo tipped their head back against the wall of their cell and squeezed their eyes shut. Their Core shifted sluggishly in their chest. Sharp, stinging pain from their various injuries blanketed them in a haze.

He must have made some sort of noise because a familiar chuckle echoed from the cell next to his.

"How's it feel, roomie?" Dream taunted.

Ranboo sighed heavily. They had forgotten he would be here.

"What's the matter? Couldn't hold off the Empire as well as you thought? Did the big bad ghost boy finally meet his match?"

"I didn't hear you offering to fight," Ranboo grumbled.

"I warned you they were coming, didn't I? You were the one who wanted me out of the way."

Ranboo sat up, pain festering into annoyance. "This is all directly your fault. We wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't freed the Emperor in the first place."

"Ah, it was bound to happen eventually. No prison can hold anything forever."

"You didn't have to help."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Ranboo ignored him and turned to inspect the shield over the front of their cell. It was stretched thin between a grid of metal bars - presumably phase-proof, knowing Phil. Ranboo tentatively reached out and brushed their fingers against it. A shock of static crackled over their skin. They hissed, yanking their hand back.

"Yeah, I tried that," said Dream. "That's how it feels to run into one of your shields, by the way. It's like wearing wool socks."

Ranboo frowned at his hand. A ghost shield. Ectoenergy wasn't particularly good for living humans, but maybe, in small enough amounts…

They braced themself and tugged firmly at their Core. Their transformation washed over them in a reluctant flash of light, and with it came a fierce wave of pain. Every cut and slash and broken bone stung like someone had bathed them in lemon juice. Their pulse thrummed in their ears. Red swiftly began seeping through their clothes. They ground their teeth, fists clenched, nails digging into their palms, and focussed on slowing down their heartbeat enough that the bleeding wouldn't become a problem.

It would become a problem anyway when Phil walked back into the lab to see Ranboo in the cell where Phantom had been moments earlier, but Ranboo was frankly too tired to care.

Eventually, once he felt stable enough, he reached out for the shield again. This time, his hand passed right through with no more than a buzzing sensation against his skin. He rapped his knuckles against the metal bars.

Yep. Phase-proof. Looked like Ranboo was stuck here until their Core rallied enough to teleport them out.

Great.

Ranboo turned his attention to his various injuries. They had begun to heal, little green specks of ectoplasm beading up amidst the red, but not nearly enough to be substantial. Several deep cuts were carved across his arms and back. His lip was split. His ribs ached when he breathed. Something in his spine was out of place. His legs felt oddly limp and tingly as he moved to brace them against the opposite wall, which meant he had probably tweaked an important nerve.

Internally, Ranboo groaned. Nerve damage took forever to heal. They would have to resort to subtly floating for the next day or so until their legs were capable of holding their weight again.

"You're being awfully quiet," Dream observed. "Something interesting happening over there?"

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut. "Maybe I just don't feel like talking to you."

"But I'm so bored and lonely. You've trapped me in a cell all by myself. Again. The least you can do is entertain me."

"That's rough, buddy."

Dream huffed. "Honestly, why wouldn't you want to talk to me? I'm super popular at parties."

Ranboo glared at the wall. "You tortured me. And you released the Crimson Emperor."

"Okay, first of all, that was once, and it was a year ago, so stop bringing it up."

"It hurt."

"Second, as I have already reminded you, I came to warn you that the Empire was coming. That has to count for something."

"Not when you were the one who released them, Dream. You actually owe me for dealing with them when you came running to me for help."

"You were just defending your haunt. How was I supposed to know they'd care about you so much?"

"I don't know, maybe because I'm a halfa and everyone cares about halfas?"

"They didn't care about me, and I'm the one who freed them."

Ranboo sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose. "What did you think was going to happen? Was the most powerful tyrant in the Ghost Zone supposed to bow before you and declare himself unworthy?"

Dream hummed, pleased. "That would be something, wouldn't it? Dream, the Nightmare Emperor. It has a nice ring to it."

"That is somehow worse than calling yourself the Nightmare King."

"My friends call me Nightmare."

"You are a nightmare."

"If you say so, ghost boy."

Ranboo just sighed again. "So in your ideal world, you would have taken over the Crimson Empire and used them to threaten me into being your apprentice or something?"

Dream scoffed. "Well, I certainly would have done it better than this."

"Because you would have won?"

"From my perspective, it doesn't look much like you won, either."

Ranboo gritted his teeth. "Either way, Essempy Park gets invaded and you get off scot-free."

Dream made a sound of protest. "I did not get off scot-free. I'm sitting in a cell in Phil's dingy basement next to you."

"You freed the Emperor. You deserve it."

"I- okay, look, the Emperor has the Ghost King's crown, and that lets him do things like open portals in the sky and brainwash other ghosts. That's all I wanted. I didn't expect him to be so stingy about sharing it."

Ranboo's eyes narrowed. "You wanted to use it on me, didn't you."

"I wouldn't be mad if it happened."

"I hate you."

"So you've said."

There was a long moment of silence. Something about the Ghost King's crown itched at Ranboo's brain. There was more to it than just portals and mind control, they were sure, but they couldn't remember what.

"You haven't teleported yourself away yet," Dream noted.

"I'm not letting you out," Ranboo responded immediately.

"No, no, I mean- you're still in your cell. Why haven't you just escaped? Phil isn't even here, it's not like you'd have to jump very far."

Ranboo glanced down at himself, at the patchwork of cuts and slashes carved across his skin. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a little bit beat up right now."

"I have not noticed. I can't see you. You may have noticed the phase-proof wall between us."

Ranboo ignored him. "I don't feel like passing out in the middle of Phil's lab."

Dream hummed neutrally. "You didn't seem to have that problem in my lab."

Ranboo's arm twitched painfully. They gritted their teeth. "I was Obsessive at the time. You know, because you tortured me and threatened my friends?"

"Oh my god, get over it. It was an experiment."

"Last I checked, experiments require informed consent. You drugged and kidnapped me."

"Well, yes, but it worked, didn't it?"

"That doesn't make it not torture."

Dream sighed. Ranboo could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You're no fun, you know that?"

Ranboo just pressed his hands against his face. Ancients give me strength.

TOMMY

Tommy was halfway back downtown when Puffy's tiny blue car screeched to a halt beside him. The back door burst open to reveal a frazzled Tubbo.

"Get in," he ordered.

Tommy got in the car.

"Did you get Techno's message?" Wilbur asked from the front seat as Puffy slammed her foot on the gas.

Tommy gripped the door handle. "Uh, no? What message?"

"This one." Tubbo held out his phone.

Phil caught Phantom.

Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.

"What the fuck," Tommy said. "What? How?"

"Either they got caught off guard or really badly hurt," Tubbo guessed, shoving his phone in his backpack.

Tommy let out another string of curses.

Puffy kept a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as she wove around debris blocking the road. "So this is really bad, then."

"Yeah, no shit it's fuckin' bad."

"Phil hates ghosts," said Wilbur, "especially Phantom. Whatever he's got planned, it won't be good for Ranboo."

Memories of Dream's basement and electric shocks and that fucking metal table flashed through Tommy's mind. He shuddered and forced them down. Now was really not the time.

"They've gotten out of worse basements than this," Tommy muttered in an attempt to make himself feel better.

"Yeah," said Tubbo uncertainly, "but only after- you know."

Toxic green and poisoned smiles. Tommy gulped and looked away. He did know.

"It won't come to that," Wilbur promised. "And if it does, Phil cares for Ranboo more than he hates Phantom. Ranboo's not an idiot. He'll handle himself."

Tommy nodded. "Right. Ranboo wouldn't let themself be tortured again just for the sake of keeping their identity a secret."

"For us, they might," Tubbo muttered.

Tommy couldn't really argue with that.

Tubbo pulled two syringes of ectoplasm out of his backpack and pressed one into Tommy's hands. Tommy wordlessly slipped it into his pocket. Tubbo did the same with the other.

Puffy's car skidded into Phil's driveway. The four of them were out and running to the house almost before it had completely stopped.

They found Phil in the living room arguing with Techno, whose red vambraces were poorly hidden under one of Wilbur's flannel shirts.

"Will!" Phil greeted brightly. "There you are. I was just looking for you. And Tommy, and Tubbo, and I see you've brought Puffy with you. Glad to see you're all safe."

Techno met Tommy's eyes over Phil's shoulder. He jerked his head toward the lab entrance. Tommy elbowed Tubbo, who nodded and began slowly edging his way around the room.

"Hi, Phil," Wilbur replied warily. "You look excited for someone who just lived through a ghost invasion."

Phil was practically bouncing from foot to foot. "You'll never believe what I just did."

Tubbo stepped on a creaky floorboard. He winced.

"Let me guess," Tommy said loudly. "Does it have something to do with the big-ass ghost shield that appeared out of fuckin' nowhere?"

Phil shook his head. "Nope. Even better."

"So you didn't make the ghost shield?"

Phil blinked. "What- no, I did, this is just bigger than that."

"The fuck could be bigger than that? It covers the whole fuckin' town."

"I caught the ghost boy."

Wilbur and Techno exchanged yikes faces over Phil's head at the amount of unbridled glee in his voice.

Tommy did his best to look unimpressed. "Really? You?"

Phil's enthusiasm wilted a bit. "Well, the Red Hunter helped at first, but-"

"You got a lucky shot," Techno insisted like he'd already said this a thousand times, arms crossed. "Phantom was already seriously hurt from the whole ghost invasion thing. You know, the thing you're supposed to be worried about right now?"

Tommy silently urged Tubbo to sneak faster. He was almost around Phil now. Just a few more steps-

Phil waved a hand dismissively, nearly smacking Tubbo in the face. "The- sorry, Tubbo. Didn't see you there."

He rested his hand on Tubbo's shoulder. Tubbo gave a pained smile. Tommy shot him a glance that said, good effort.

"The shield will hold. The invasion can wait. Right now, I have the number one biggest menace to Essempy Park locked away in my basement where he can do no harm. I'd say that's worth celebrating, don't you think?"

Tommy raised a hand. "I'd rather not be fuckin' invaded by ghosts, personally."

Phil either didn't hear him or didn't care. He ushered the group down into the lab. "Come see. I could barely believe it myself, but it's- Ranboo?"

Ranboo was sitting near the front of the cell, legs braced against the opposite wall, picking irritably at a loose thread on his jeans. His clothes were rumpled carefully to hide the inevitable flecks of red. He looked up when they entered, revealing his split lip.

"Oh, thank god," they said, voice raspy with exhaustion. "Would you mind letting me out? This is getting pretty cramped."

Phil faltered. "I- no, I caught Phantom. This is a trick. You're trying to get me to release you."

Ranboo stared at him. "What?"

"That's Ranboo, Phil," Tommy tried. "You know, Ranboo Beloved? Tall anxious fucker?"

Phil shook his head. "No. I know what I saw. Ghosts are mimics, Tommy. Don't fall for this."

"I thought you said they just mimicked emotions. Since when can they fuckin' shapeshift?"

Phil fumbled with his words again. "I don't know. It's Phantom. He's different even among ghosts."

"That's literally just Ranboo," said Tubbo, which wasn't even a lie.

"Here, look." Ranboo stuck his hand through the ghost shield across the front of his cell.

Tommy gestured to him. "See? Ghosts can't fuckin' go through ghost shields."

Phil buffered for a moment, then shook his head. "These shields are pretty low power, and Phantom is very strong. It makes sense that he'd be able to pass through. The bars, though? Those are phase-proof. And they're bolted from the outside. There's no way for a human to get in without taking them off entirely. Are you really telling me that Ranboo unbolted the bars, climbed into the cell, and bolted the bars back in place, all without me noticing?"

Ranboo grimaced. Tubbo shifted uneasily. Techno and Wilbur exchanged glances.

"But it's Ranboo," Tommy insisted weakly.

"It isn't. That's what he wants you to think. See, his lip is split the same way Phantom's was. He's just playing games so we let him out."

"I'm not, though," Ranboo muttered, brushing their fingers against their lip.

"They aren't," Dream agreed from where he was lounging in the next cell over. "They're telling the truth. You can definitely trust them."

Ranboo glared and gave the wall between their cells a weak kick. Dream primly folded his hands behind his head.

Phil frowned. "Wh- is that Dream? How did he get in here?"

"That's a ghost," said Tommy. "I put him there. He's a dick. Don't listen to anything he says."

Phil raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Huh. Nice work, Tommy. Looks like we both caught a ghost today."

"Thanks. Can you free Ranboo now?"

Phil sighed heavily. "I told you, that's not Ranboo. It only looks like Ranboo, the same way that other ghost looks like Dream. You can't fall for tricks like this. You'll only get yourself hurt. If we set him free, he'd go straight for the shield generator and let all the other ghosts back in."

"I would not," Ranboo said tiredly.

"See? More tricks."

Tommy and Tubbo exchanged uneasy glances. Puffy whispered something to Wilbur about confirmation bias, whatever the fuck that was. Techno clenched his jaw so tight Tommy worried a tooth might crack.

Tubbo shifted to peer at Ranboo behind Phil's back. He pulled the syringe of ectoplasm half out of his pocket. Ranboo glanced uneasily at Phil, then stuck his hand through the shield and nodded.

"You're starting to sound a little off your rocker, there, Phil," said Tommy.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Wilbur pressed.

Phil's eyes flicked between them. "You don't believe me. None of you. You all actually think that's Ranboo."

"It's not that we don't believe you-"

"I don't believe you," said Techno.

Wilbur ignored him. "It's just we're all stressed about the invasion and we really don't have time to be arguing about this. There are bigger threats than Phantom. We need to come up with a plan and soon, because that shield won't hold forever."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed. "And we can do that in the kitchen. I don't know about you, but I'm fuckin' starving, and there are some barbeque crisps with my name on them."

While Phil was distracted, Tubbo tossed the syringe to Ranboo, who caught it and hastily injected it into their opposite side, hidden from view. Their next breath was notably less strained.

Phil pursed his lips. "This was a mistake. I can't let you be down here."

Tommy laughed nervously. "Uh, we won't be. We'll be upstairs plotting and eating crisps-"

"No. One of you could sneak away and free him. I'm sorry, but I can't let that happen. This is too important. I'll have to stay here and keep watch until I'm sure you've snapped out of whatever delusion this is."

Tommy spluttered. "Ex-fuckin'-scuse me?"

"Delusion?" Tubbo echoed incredulously.

Ranboo sat up in their cell, brow furrowed.

"It's for the best," Phil insisted. "For your safety and the safety of the town. I cannot in good conscience allow you to set Phantom free."

Techno snarled. "So you're choosing ghosts. Again. Over your own living kids."

"It's for your own protection, Techno, just like always."

Ranboo bristled. Their eyes flicked between Phil and everyone else.

Techno let out a bitter laugh. He balled his hands into fists. "You had better change your mind in the next ten seconds."

Phil took a half step back. "Are you threatening me?"

"You're bein' unreasonable."

"I'm being unreasonable?"

Ranboo squared his shoulders, apparently having come to a decision. "Okay, you know what-"

There was a vwoop and a flurry of purple particles, then Ranboo was standing next to Tommy in the main room of the lab. Their legs promptly gave out under them. Blood began seeping through their jacket again. Tommy and Tubbo caught them as best they could, ducking under their arms and supporting their weight. Tommy pulled out his own syringe of ectoplasm and jabbed it into the base of Ranboo's neck.

Phil's head whipped back and forth. "What did- how-"

No one paid him any mind.

"That was dumb as fuck," said Tommy.

"You're one to talk," Tubbo complained. "Don't go around sticking needles in people's necks."

"It was for the greater good!"

Ranboo just squeezed his eyes shut. "'M tired. 'N everything hurts."

Tubbo's tone softened. "I know, boss man. Just take some deep breaths and let the ectoplasm work its magic."

Tommy's fingers brushed against a misshapen bump on Ranboo's side. Ranboo hissed through their teeth.

Tommy frowned. "Did you fuckin' break your ribs?"

"How the hell did you manage that?" said Tubbo.

"Jus' cracked," Ranboo mumbled.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "They feel broken."

"How'd you know? They're my ribs."

Puffy leaned closer to Wilbur. "Is this… normal?"

Wilbur sighed. "Usually it's not quite this bad, but yeah."

Phil stumbled backwards. He scrambled for the nearest ectogun and aimed it at Ranboo. "Get- get back, ghost. Step away from my son."

Tommy shot him a glare. "Uh, I think the fuck not, Phil. He's my friend and he needs help."

"That is not your friend. That is an incredibly dangerous ghost-"

"They can be both."

"I think you should put the gun down before one of us makes you," Tubbo warned.

Techno cracked his knuckles. "There's an idea."

Phil spluttered incoherently, gaze darting between them, verging on desperate. "Are you serious? You all still believe that- that thing is Ranboo, even after seeing it fucking teleport out of a phase-proof cell?"

Tommy opened his mouth.

"They know," said Ranboo quietly.

Phil's eyes snapped back to Ranboo. His fingers clenched around the ectogun.

Ranboo raised their head, eyes glowing gentle red and green.

"They know I'm Phantom," he repeated. "But I'm Ranboo, too. I'm both. I've been both the whole time."

Phil shook his head. "No. That's- no. You're lying. You can't be."

"Can't be what? Dead? That's not an experience you just forget."

Ranboo's arm twitched around Tommy. Tommy squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

"You're lying," Phil insisted, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. "Ranboo can't be a ghost. I would know. My tech would pick up on it."

Techno snorted. Tubbo gave a skeptical hum.

Ranboo just sighed. "Do you remember when I first moved in here? You and Tubbo were working on that boomerang thing. It was supposed to track down ghosts, but it only ever went after me." Their eyes narrowed. "Did you never think about why?"

Phil's face went white. His hands trembled. Techno reached over and plucked the ectogun from his grasp. He didn't seem to notice.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, you can't- you're not-"

Ranboo looked more exhausted than Tommy had ever seen him. "I've been dead the entire time I've lived with you."

Phil's jaw worked soundlessly.

"So congratulations. You finally caught me. But there's a bigger threat out there right now, and if we don't work together, we don't stand a chance. Are you gonna shoot me about this, or are you gonna let me heal so I can help?"

Phil just stared, eyes wide, mouth gaping. Tommy was tempted to ask Techno to take a picture.

"We're going upstairs," Tubbo decided.

Ranboo let out a breath and slumped further against them. "Great."

Tommy led Ranboo out of the lab and up to their bedroom. He didn't look back once.