This story leaves off where the series ended. It turns out that everything that happened in Phantom Planet was just the product of Vlad's dreams when he had come to be put under Nocturne's spell once again. Danny, of course, had left him asleep until being struck by a dream asteroid had woken him up and he found his house in shambles. Though he couldn't be sure, he was blaming Danny for his home's destruction.
A Danny Phantom Story
Chapter 1: A Thanksgiving Suprise
Vlad Masters wasn't happy. In fact, at that moment, he could have sworn that he was experiencing the worst day of his life (as many usually do in times of distress). You see, due to circumstances beyond his control (circumstances including the total annihilation of his Wisconsin castle and a very satisfied Danny Phantom) here he was, stuck in the very last place he wanted to be on Thanksgiving Day: California. Vlad hated the beach. He couldn't bear the sun's intense rays that so easily burnt his flesh, nor fathom how any sane person could find the incessant raging of waves soothing- it gave him migraines. (Why California? Maybe it was just a part of his search for satisfaction in his early years of wealth that had inclined him to spend millions on this large chunk of the Californian coastline, or maybe he'd just bought it because he could.) Not to mention, he was missing the Packers vs. Lions Thanksgiving game because of a series of rolling blackouts that had left all electronics, including his 40 inch flat-screen television, completely useless. Yes, altogether, he was not having a very good day.
Because there wasn't much else to do, he had put on his heaviest and warmest overcoat and gone for a walk along the shoreline. He wasn't quite headed anywhere in particular, but anything was better than sitting inside in the dark, cold, and quiet. It was 43 degrees and falling, and the wind cruelly wound its way through every small aperture in the fabric Vlad clutched about him. He watched his breath crystalize in front of him, then looked out into the murkey grey water. What should he have been thankful for on this day? The warm, toasty electric fire he should have been sitting in front of? The surround-sound stereo system he should have been blasting the game on? Those new boots he was tearing up against the sand?
"Thanks for not being any worse," he said to himself. As he came up over a dune, he stopped in his tracks.
A lifeless form laid in the sand just a few yards away, swaying with the tide and covered in sea foam, sand, and weeds.
He approached it cautiously, coming closer and closer until he was standing directly over it, ignoring the freezing cold water ungulfing his feet.
It was breathing.
Without a second more of hesitation, Vlad flipped over the unconcious form, then stumbled backwards, his eyes wide in shock.