Danny Phantom Clone Novels & Stories

"For an A-tier Malevolent Phantom, your hunting methods are laughably sloppy. Compared to the others I've encountered, you're way behind." Daphne scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. I'm just trying to feed myself. Why waste time? And let's be real. You humans never really care how lowlifes like them die." Then, she stood up, her expression more serious. "Looks like I'm no match for you. But you'd better not lay a finger on me, because I'm the younger sister of an S-tier Malevolent Phantom. If you kill me, my sister will lose her mind, and she'll take down anyone in her path. You ready to deal with that kind of fallout?"

But he kept his eyes open. He had to watch. The clone rose slowly. Bone snapped. Tendons rewired themselves with cable. Silver slid under the skin like liquid titanium knitting itself around a human frame. His left eye flickered red. His right was gone, replaced by a rotating lens with a scanner that made a high-pitched whine. “Phase Six complete,” the clone whispered. “No more humanity. No more heart.” Alessio raised his gun again. “You should’ve stayed dead.” The clone moved.

Just the house breathing its heavy, mechanical breath in the dark. [D******D COMPLETE. DATA MIRROR STABLE. DISCONNECT TRANSFERS.] Dante slickly wrenched the cloning drive from the administrative port. The screen snapped back to its standard green baseline, erasing every trace of the Level Prime intrusion. He slid the heavy, warm black plastic drive into his inner tactical pouch, right next to the Rossi blood ledger he had extracted from the chapel vault. He pulled his black coat back over his massive shoulders, his face returning to that unyielding, terrifying mask of the Ghost.

The clone’s cold voice whispered into his ear. “Did you really think it was over? I’m not just a copy. I’ve inherited everything, your strength, your memories, your will. And I’m just getting started.” The room pulsed with energy, shadows dancing wildly. Damian struggled, fighting to free himself, but the clone’s grip was unyielding. “You’re not the real Damian,” the clone sneered. “You’ve been fighting your own reflection. But I am the future, an evolution. And I will take what’s mine.”

"Get the kid. Now!" Bianca didn't wait. She scooped the bundle from the floor. The infant was silent, his amber eyes tracking the flickering red emergency lights. He felt heavy—a solid, living weight against her chest. She stepped over a pile of twitching white meat—what was left of Vessel 12. The clone’s fingers still scratched at the deck plates, leaving thin, milky streaks in the grime. "Don't look at them," Dante growled. He grabbed her arm, hauling her toward the pod bay. "They aren't her. They never were. Move!"

I NEED to know who he is, and something tells me I won’t discover much if I approach him as Phantom Reaper. I don’t really even know who I actually am, to be honest. I never indulged in friendships or relationships with others. It’s just always been survival. The only person I had any kind of positive relationship was my mother. I don’t know my father but because of my hair color, I’m fairly certain my father was Christian Bartoa. I know he frequented the slave cells whenever he was bored, and the urge arises so it doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t intend to ever claim him nor carry his surname. The thought of actually SPEAKING to Damien makes me feel a weird sense of anxiety. I’m unsure if i

Will Dante help me? ******************************************

He yelled out a spell, while cursing the woman who was right behind him, Jenny. "You traitor! You brought me here to be killed..? You'll forever regret this you bitch! What an ass hole you are, traitor! I'll deal mercilessly with you, I promise you swine!" There was a look of a scared beast on his face. The shadow moved closer, and when the final moment struck, the shadow's mouth opened up in fury. Malison turned again to Jenny as he met her gaze. The shadow became a hungry monster, showing its fist, ready for action. Malison's vampire charged up, and released the first strike, but the shadow dogged and blocked the swing. The impact of the fist was heavy. He gripped his sword and came at Mal

I continued, “he was a rouge, his name was Danny. He was a few years older than me, but I liked him. I went out on like one date before things got ugly. It turns out he was wanted by another pack; Tyree Moon pack. Danny apparently had killed the Luna of the pack” “When Mason found out he took Danny and put him in the dungeons” I continued, “and when I went to visit him he tried to get me to let him out…and well I did. I was a stupid child who was convinced that I was in love with this bad boy” I laughed venomously at my own stupidity. “That was what Mason meant the other day, yes?” Brody asked me, “when he was ill and he mention he knew it was you who let the rouge out the prison”. I nodded

Damon went still in a way that frightened me more than the mimic ever had. Aleksander whispered, “No. That’s impossible.” The figure inside the chamber looked like Damon. But younger. Sharper features. Cold eyes even though they were closed. An expression that looked carved into his bones. Damon backed up one step. Just one. His throat worked like he was swallowing something heavy. “That’s a clone,” Aleksander said quietly. “Your father warned me it was incomplete. I didn’t know it was stabilized.” Damon didn’t move. He stared at the chamber like he was staring into a memory he had spent years trying to bury.