The air shimmered ahead. Three figures, vaguely humanoid swirls of sickly green ectoplasm with pinpricks of red for eyes, solidified from the gloom. They were E-tier, bottom of the barrel—Fodder Shades. Their forms wavered, barely holding together, driven by a basic, aggressive instinct to challenge the stronger energy source that had invaded their territory.
Theory is not applied here, thought Kael. This was real.
The first ghost attacked him with a wordless shriek, a clumsy, clawed swipe. Kael's mind screamed intangibility, but his body reacted a half-second too late. He phased, but not completely. The spectral claws passed through his shoulder, a jolt of icy cold that burned, and he stumbled back with a grunt, his aura flickering in shock.
Too slow! It tried to claw its way up his throat. The second specter was already on him, charging like a bull. Kael threw up a hand, instinct taking over. "Blue Fire!"
A sputtering wisp of blue-silver flame, more like a lit match than a projectile, shot from his palm. It went wide, fizzling against a marble angel monument behind the ghost, leaving a small scorch mark. The miss cost him. The third ghost phased up through the earth beneath him, its chilling presence making him shocked and bend backward, tripping over a low grave marker and landing hard on his back. The impact knocked caused him physical damage.
They circled him, these mindless, bottom-feeding ghosts, and he was losing. Humiliation burned hotter than the cold in his shoulder. He had too much potential but sill fumbling against ectoplasmic toddlers.
A ghost came for him. This time, his temporal perception flared-duck left. He rolled, the ghost's claws tearing through the air where his head had been. The split-second warning was the catalyst he needed.
Anger replaced panic. He pushed off the ground, flying erratically a few feet into the air to break their circle. One of the shades shot after him. Kael twisted in mid-air, a move that felt more clumsy than graceful, and kicked out. His foot, sheathed in his flickering aura, connected solidly. The ghost turned into a cloud of green mist, dissipating before slowly beginning to reform elsewhere.
One down. the victory, small as it was, cleared his head. The remaining two charged in unison. He didn't try to phase. He met the first one with a focused punch, his fist engulfed in a concentrated burst of blue fire. It connected with a sizzle, and the ghost reeled back, screeching.
The last one came from the side. Kael moved and raised his hand, and this time, the Blue-Fire Ray was successfully done. A precise beam of electric blue energy, no bigger than his thumb, lanced out and struck in the chest. It froze, glowed intensely for a second, and then vanished with a pop, leaving behind only the smell of ectoplasmic wisp of smoke.
He stood there panting, the silence of the cemetery rushing back in. The fight had lasted less than five minutes, but he was utterly drained. His body felt heavy, the constant fighting causing strain on his core. He was out of practice, out of shape for a real fight, and he had no way to capture them. All he could do was disperse them.
As the first ghost he'd kicked began to slowly reform again from a nearby mist, Kael knew it was time to go. He'd learned his lesson; staying was pointless. He blasted the reforming specter with another Blue-fire-Ray, buying time. then turned and shot into the sky.
He flew faster than he ever had before, a streak of blue and silver light streaking over the rooftops of Elmerton, not stopping until he'd phased back through his bedroom window and collapsed on the floor.
His first fight. It should have been easy. Three E-tier specters, little more than mindless, aggressive wisps of ectoplasm. But theory was nothing like practice. They'd nearly overwhelmed him through sheer persistence. It was only when his temporal perception had flared—that he'd found a rhythm
The victory was hollow. He'd spent twenty minutes of precious stamina against the Ghost Zone's weakest foot soldiers. He hadn't even had a Fenton Thermos to trap them; all he could do was blast them apart and hope they'd take a long time to re-form.
Kael's body ached with fatigue. A hot shower did little to wash away the frustration. Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, the fight replaying behind his eyes. Every misstep, every wasted movement, every panicked surge of power was a lesson written in pain and humiliation. Power is useless without control, he thought. He needed precision and control. His mind fueled by desire to improve, landed on the most logical example from his old world: Batman. The relentless pursuit of physical and mental perfection known in a human body. That was the foundation he wanted. The ghost powers would be the tool, but the body and mind had to be the unshakable to wield it's power.
The next morning, his new life began. Elmerton Middle School was a sprawling, single-story complex of beige buildings and manicured athletic fields, different from Casper Middle School. After a meeting with the principal, Kael was officially enrolled in the eighth grade. When asked about clubs by the principal, he showed polite interest in the Science Olympiad and the Chess Club—both clubs that suited him.
His new homeroom teacher, Mrs. Gable, introduced him to the class. He gave a smile and went to the last seat in the corner by the window. The classic protagonist seat. It offered a nice view of the room and a quick escape to the sky.
The school day was filled with simple coursework and social observation. He answered a question about cellular mitosis correctly, earning a nod from his science teacher, and otherwise kept his head down. He was a ghost here in another sense, present but not truly part of the system.
After the final bell, he walked home. At the evening, he shared his plan his aunt.
"The house has a spare room next to the garage, right? I was thinking… I'd like to set up a home gym," he said, feigning a casual tone. "I think some physical activity would be good. And I was looking at clubs. Maybe a martial arts dojo?"
Aunt Claire looked up from her plate, her sharp eyes softening with approval. "That's a wonderful idea, Kael. A very healthy way to channel your energy. The best in town is Master Feng's Academy. It's a few blocks from here. They teach a blend of karate and jujitsu. Very reputable."
"Master Feng's," Kael replied. "I'll visit tomorrow."
That evening, his training was different. Without his ghost gadgets, all left behind in Amity Park for now—his practice was purely physical and metaphysical.
He transformed himself. The blue-silver aura flickered to life. This time, he didn't try to fight. He just moved. He practiced phasing through the branch of an oak tree without stumbling. He held his invisibility for thirty seconds, then a minute, focusing on steady breath. He hovered, perfectly still, in the center of the lawn. It was boring, foundational work. It was everything he needed right now.
Later, he flew around the town, giving the cemetery a wide look. He could still feel that cold strange sensation in the world, a thorn in his ghostly senses. But he didn't go in. A true hunter didn't charge in unprepared. He will gather more information about this area.
He landed back to his room. His body ached, but his mind was clearer than ever. Preparation first. Then action.
He would go to the dojo. He would build his gym. And in two weeks, he would make a secret trip back to Amity Park to bring supplies. The fight was over, but the war for control had just begun.