[Third Person Pov]
Due to the sheer intensity of the battle and the overwhelming, seemingly endless number of ghosts flooding the rooftops, it was impossible not to feel crushed beneath the pressure. Every second brought another threat, another strike, another voice screaming through the chaos. Injury was inevitable in a fight like this—survival itself felt like a victory.
Danny unleashed a powerful sonic wail toward one of the spectral bards, the sound tearing through the air like a shockwave. The bard retaliated instantly, its own haunting melody transforming into a destructive sonic attack. The two forces collided, invisible waves slamming against each other and warping the air between them.
Before Danny could press the advantage, a ghostly jester cartwheeled into the fray with unsettling grace. Laughing wildly, it hurled several glowing bombs high into the air around Danny. The explosions erupted in rapid succession, forcing him to break off his attack. The concussive blasts sent him flying sideways, and he barely managed to twist himself upright before skidding across the rooftop. As he slid, Danny threw up a shimmering barrier just in time.
A unit of armored ghost knights charged him in perfect formation, their movements disciplined and relentless. Swords and axes slammed repeatedly against his shield, joined by the jester's flying daggers that ricocheted off the barrier from all directions. Each impact sent ripples through the shield, and Danny gritted his teeth, pouring all of his focus and strength into keeping it intact.
Behind the knights, the bards began to sing once more. This time, their voices blended into an ominous marching song, an anthem of war and conquest. The effect was immediate. The energy around the soldiers surged, their movements becoming faster, stronger, more aggressive as the music amplified their supernatural power.
With a sharp crack, Danny's shield finally shattered. He was hurled backward, tumbling and stumbling across the rooftop before hitting the ground hard. The knights wasted no time. They closed the distance in a blink, weapons raised high as they bore down on him with unnatural speed.
Danny twisted his torso, barely pulling himself out of the path of their blades as he tried to summon a construct for protection. He was too slow. A metal fist slammed into his face, knocking his focus aside. The knights seized the opening instantly, throwing themselves at him without mercy. They piled onto him from every angle, determined to pin him down and overwhelm him through sheer force.
Protecting his head, Danny felt a bright halo of energy form around his waist. Pain and fury twisted his expression.
"Arghh! Get away from me!!" he shouted.
A violent repulsive force erupted outward, blasting the knights off him and sending them crashing across the rooftop in all directions.
Danny rose shakily to his feet, panting hard. His body was marked with bruises and slashes, but his glowing eyes burned with defiance. He was far from finished. Lifting off the ground once more, he tapped his earpiece as he flew back into the fight.
"Aim for the bards! They're the support units!" he called out. "Take them down and the rest should follow!"
"Copy that," Robin replied calmly.
He pulled out several birdarangs and infused them with spectral energy. A sharp green aura flared around the blades, making them hum with deadly precision. Robin hurled them at the knights blocking his path, the explosions clearing a narrow opening. Without hesitation, he sprinted and vaulted forward, locking onto one of the bards.
Before he could strike, a wizard noticed his target. With a swift gesture, the ghost conjured a translucent barrier around the bard, sealing it off.
Robin spun his staff, his eyes glowing with focused energy.
"Ever been to Hawaii?" he asked suddenly.
Both ends of his staff burst into flame as he charged it with power.
"I'll show you some real ghost limbo."
He lunged forward, weaving through incoming spells with fluid acrobatics. Flips, rolls, and midair twists carried him past blasts of 'magic' as he closed the distance. His staff lashed out, fire and impact crashing against the wizard until the ghost faltered. With one final strike, the wizard was taken down—and the barrier vanished with him.
Robin didn't hesitate. He charged the exposed bard, slamming it to the ground. A beam of light immediately descended from above, pulling the bard upward as a Danny clone appeared, thermos in hand, sealing the ghost away.
Danny and Robin passed each other midair, exchanging a single, wordless high five before splitting off once more.
Together, they tore back into the battlefield, flying in coordinated arcs as gadgets and powers rained down on the ghost army. They dodged and evaded whenever possible, and when they couldn't, they braced themselves to take the hit with minimal damage.
Smoke bombs burst into thick clouds, spectral sleeping gas spread through the ranks, sticky goo trapped charging enemies, ghost-restraining ropes snapped tight, and birdarangs sliced through the chaos. Every tool they had was thrown into the fight as they struggled to thin the overwhelming numbers and turn desperation into momentum.
Batman moved like a living shadow across the rooftops, making perfect use of his invisibility. Every motion was precise, deliberate, and merciless. Empowered by Danny's abilities, his retaliation had become faster and more brutal than usual, yet never sloppy. His batarangs were no longer just projectiles—they were weapons he wielded like daggers, flashing briefly in his hands before disappearing into the darkness along with him.
With his newly gained strength and speed, Batman barely made a sound as he moved. Each step was feather-light, each landing calculated so perfectly that even the ghosts struggled to track him. He struck, vanished, and struck again, leaving confusion and disabled apparitions in his wake.
Still, his greatest battle was not against the ghosts.
Batman fought to keep control of himself, to resist the intoxicating surge of power flowing through his veins. Danny's strength was overwhelming, seductive in how easily it answered his commands. He had to keep reminding himself—over and over again.
'This is borrowed power. It isn't mine. It doesn't belong to me.'
The fight raged on around him, but his struggle was just as much internal as it was external. He couldn't afford to lose himself, not while the Ghost Zone forces threatened to wreck havoc in their reality.
Following Danny's strategy, Batman focused his efforts on the bards. He agreed completely—cut off the support, and the rest would fall. Using his phasing ability, he slipped through the rooftop itself, emerging silently behind his targets. An empowered punch dropped one bard instantly, while specialized ghost-hunting gadgets neutralized others before they could react.
Elsewhere, far from the chaos of the front lines, the Ghost Archer had taken position on a distant rooftop. Calm and methodical, he knelt with an arrow already nocked, bow drawn and steady. Three targets moved through his vision.
He aimed first at Batman.
The Archer's eyes narrowed as he tracked him, constantly adjusting his aim as he considered him the most dangerous.
"Too evasive…" he muttered to himself.
Batman only appeared long enough to strike before vanishing again, reemerging in unpredictable locations. The Archer exhaled sharply and shifted his focus.
Next was Danny.
The Archer watched as Danny tore through enemy ranks, unleashing concussive sonic waves, bursts of fire, and searing beams of energy. Constructs formed at his command, blades and shields manifesting as he carved a path through the ghosts surrounding him.
"Too vigilant…" the Archer noted quietly.
Danny covered every angle, layered shields forming instinctively whenever danger approached. There was no opening.
Finally, the Archer's gaze settled on Robin.
Robin fought in the air alongside Danny, still adjusting to flight, his movements strong but not yet fully refined. He battled a cluster of jesters, capturing them with bolas and gadgets while narrowly avoiding their attacks. When Robin landed briefly on the edge of a rooftop to regain his balance, the Archer's eyes sharpened.
"Perfect."
The Ghost Archer breathed out slowly, steadying himself. The bowstring was pulled taut, every muscle relaxed except the ones that mattered.
The arrow flew.
Robin stepped forward, ready to launch himself back into the fight—when he felt Danny stopped possessing him and something slammed into him from behind.
"Wha—"
He turned just in time to catch Danny as he stumbled into his arms, an arrow embedded in his chest.
"Danny!!" Robin shouted, panic and shock crashing through him.
Danny's eyes flickered faintly as green spectral blood spilled from the wound. His voice was strained, weak.
"I'm just a clone…" he choked, blood flowing out his mouth. "I'm just a clone."
The words repeated as his form began to lose cohesion. His body slowly melted, dissolving into glowing ectoplasm that slipped through Robin's fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on. His voice grew distant and distorted, still repeating the same reassurance as if it mattered more to him than the pain.
"I'm just a clone…"
Within moments, all that remained was a faintly bubbling green puddle at Robin's feet.
Before Robin could react, the last viable clone of Danny surged forward and merged with him, overshadowing his body protectively. Power flooded Robin's system, raw and uncontrolled.
"ARGHHH!!" Robin roared.
Energy burst from his eyes and clenched fists, crackling violently around him as rage consumed every rational thought.
From his distant perch, the Ghost Archer clicked his tongue and prepared to relocate. He glanced back toward Robin one last time—
—and froze.
Robin was gone.
The Archer's eyes widened just as Robin appeared beside him in a blur of motion, having copied Danny's teleportation technique. His face was twisted with fury, eyes blazing, fist drawn back and overflowing with ectoplasmic energy.
The punch landed with overwhelming force.
The Archer was launched backward, crashing hard as Robin pursued relentlessly. Every strike came faster than the last, driven by fury rather than technique. The Archer hit the ground hard and scrambled backward, wounded and desperate, one trembling hand raised.
"No more! No more!" he begged.
Robin walked toward him slowly, deliberately, cracking his knuckles as energy rolled off him in waves. His voice was cold, steady, and terrifyingly controlled.
"No," Robin said quietly.
"I say when we're done."
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