It is a standard day in Amity Park Minnesota. Birds are chirping, their song joined by will-o the wisps who speak only in music and color; children play in the park with friends, family, and pets that never left them, even if they did turn green; adults walked around small craters in sidewalks or avoided driving on roads not yet repaired on their ways to and from their many destinations. Nicolai Technus is flying toward an 18 wheeler bearing the mark of the Ghost Interception Wing, drawn in by the powerful and complex piece of technology that it contained. A girl in black and red flew a hoverboard loaded up with weapons to demonstrate their effectiveness on their maker, as thanks for grafting the suit to her. A girl in white and black flew toward the ghost on her hoverboard with a shield projector and a Fenton Thermos™ ready to protect Technus from his obsessive tendencies and the ghost hunters unconcerned with his safety. Shots fly from ecto-pistols and Sam wonders what the GIW could possibly be driving through the city that'd tempt Technus to ignore the dangers presented to him, and why she hadn't just gone to watch Danny destroy Tucker in bowling. Sam flew faster, a trail of violet streaking behind her as she pushed her board to its limits to keep up with Technus and the now speed limit breaking truck fleeing him. A bolt of lightning flew from Technus' hand and the crate doors on the back of the truck flew open, revealing something so brilliant green that Sam wondered if her experimental suit was going to be enough to protect her from the radiation it was giving off. Before she could put up her shield, Sam watched with terror that had no time to rise as the truck hit a pothole, bounced, and one of the agents now trading fire with Technus tripped, fell back, and shot the object of Technus' hyperfocus. The world became nothing but green and pain.
"You, Danny Fenton, are cheating," Tucker declared with the absolute certainty that only a clown could muster. Danny rolled his eyes and rolled the ball down the alley toward the pins and pumped his fists when he got yet another strike. "Five strikes in a row - you're using telekinesis or something." Danny snorted and stepped aside for Tucker to give it a shot. "Ghostly telekinesis to win bowling."
"Yeah, I just learned how to use telekinesis to beat you in something I've been beating everyone at for years. Never to like, grab a remote or toss Young Blood around with, just bowling." Tucker made his swing and Danny patted his shoulder. "You keep thinking that." Danny shook his head while Tucker hit some of the pins. "Just like Sam is cheating in videogames to beat us."
"It's biphobic, what you're doing, really."
"I'm being thoroughly inconvenienced, therefore-" Danny sealed Tucker's lips with his own and snickered at the expression he saw when he pulled back to grab his bowling ball. "Rude, but that's really just the only good way to shut me up."
"It's so effective." Danny shook his head, reared his hand back and the ball flew from his fingers as green light washed over the building and the force of power releasing itself into the material world slammed into his core like a tidal wave, knocking Danny to the ground before it started shaking. Glass shattered, the walls splintered, and Tucker picked him up off of the ground. They ran for a shadowed corner and Danny pulled on the light and shadows in his center, letting it wash over him slowly so that no one would notice him shifting away from the physical into the in-between and Tucker activated his suit. "Orange Spandex looks horrible on you."
"Good thing it's not spandex then, huh? If you were a little taller, I could've worn your back up one instead of Sam." The material covered Tucker's regular clothes and he pulled the hood over his head, running toward the exit while Danny flew above the building, hopping on his hoverboard and pulling out his phone. "Call Sam." The phone synced to his hood rang and rang and rang. Tucker got on his hoverboard and rose above the building as the call went to voicemail. "No, no no, please no." The green light that near outshone the sun was coming from where the world was shaking hardest. "Track GPS on Sam's board." In front of him, the visor of his hood showed him coordinates and he flew forward. "Please, gods, no."
Jack Fenton drove what some would call a tank through what others might call a warzone. The city hadn't looked this bad since Pariah Dark had invaded, and at least then he'dd seen ghosts and humans alike fighting off the forces of the mad ghost bent on global domination. Now he drove over a road that had been torn apart by a shockwave around buildings that had fallen over each other and themselves, the air saturated with ectoplasmic radiation and yet nothing compared to the reading he was driving toward. And there was nothing, not a soul, living or dead, that he could see anywhere. He kept his eyes on what used to be a street, however, so he didn't have to focus on that.
Maddie Fenton, however, was their lookout in case of any hostiles coming at them. And she wished dearly that she wasn't. She saw exactly what all the ectoplasmic radiation was doing in those buildings that had fallen over, could see transparent white and green and blue figures flickering into existence before fading out of view like a signal that the Earth struggled to receive. Amity Park's ghost population hadn't increased so dramatically since the Poindexter incident in the 50s, and that was minuscule to what she was seeing now.
With a familiar viridian light surrounding her, Valerie Gray pulled herself up from a pile of rubble, aching all over her body in a way that she never had before in her entire life. When she looked down at her hands, her suit was broken apart in chunks, the metal burned away in places, and her skin was an alien navy blue. She screamed, and her arm vanished from sight, and someone groaned nearby. She waved her hand around, biting back further shouts while hiding behind a block of concrete. Trying to focus through the throbbing pain in her head, the sandpaper dryness in her throat, the rattling shake in her bones, was next to impossible. Valerie had done more than the impossible before. She focused on her blasters, and her hand came back into view, a pistol sized barrel building itself on her wrist. She whirled it around the rubble to aim at whatever was approaching her and sucked in a gasp that left her coughing. The truck was in ruins, scattered everywhere, the GIW idiots scattered on the ground either riddled with metal and red, or with suits black as night instead of the eye-burning white they dedicated themselves to, skin shades of blue and green, and above them, beyond them, was a mass of ectoplasm shifting from a pyramid to a sphere to a cube, never staying one shape for longer than an instant and yet visibly all of them at once. A portal, like the one in the Fentons' basement that she'd gone through before but this one was unrestrained, wild, terrifying and beautiful in an alien way. She took a step forward, and pain raced up her foot and to every inch of her body, black spots dotting her vision. The last thing Valerie saw before everything went dark was a shock of white hair and a golden hoverboard.
It was an average day in Amity Park Minnesota. It will not be average for a good long time. All is as it should be.