The "meeting" wasn't held in a secret base or a darkened alley. That was too cliché, and far too easy to track. Instead, I waited until the following Saturday night, when the atmospheric conditions over the tri-state area were perfect for a high-bandwidth, encrypted bounce-signal.
Kim was in her room, Ben was in the Rustbucket, and Danny Fenton was hiding in the Fenton Works basement.
I sat in Sub-Level 23, the obsidian glow of the Quantum Super Computer reflecting in my eyes. "Sheila, initiate the 'Blind-Date' protocol. Voice modulation at 40% rasp, 60% authority. Use the 'Producer' avatar—the one that looks like a flickering geometric glitch."
["Connection established, Danny. They're all currently staring at their respective screens with expressions of profound distrust."]
I leaned into the mic. "Welcome, Team."
On my primary monitor, three windows popped up. Kim was first, her brow furrowed. "Who are you? And how did you bypass a 256-bit encrypted firewall on a satellite uplink? Wade is having a literal meltdown trying to trace you."
"Your tech-support is gifted, Kim, but he's playing checkers in a world of three-dimensional chess," I said, my voice echoing through her Kimmunicator. "As for who I am... think of me as the person who ensures the world doesn't end before the season finale."
"The 'Producer' from the Burger Shack," Ben's voice came through, sounding more annoyed than impressed. "Look, 'Glitch-Face,' I don't take orders from talking squares. My grandpa says I should be careful about 'stranger danger' on the internet."
"Your 'Grandpa' is a retired Plumber, Ben. He knows exactly who I am—or at least, he knows the organization I'm pretending to be," I countered. "And Danny? You can stop trying to phase through the screen. I'm not in the hardware."
Danny Fenton jumped, his ghost-sense trailing a tiny wisp of blue from his mouth. "How do you know my name? And how do you know about... the 'me' thing?"
"I know that the world is changing," I said, my tone shifting from playful to clinical. "Dr. Drakken was just the beginning. The drone you fought wasn't a fluke; it was a symptom. The boundaries between your 'realities' are thinning. Ghosts, aliens, and super-science are no longer separate problems. They are one ecosystem."
"And you want us to be the gardeners?" Kim asked, her voice skeptical. "We don't even know each other. I'm a cheerleader from Middleton. He's a ghost kid from Illinois. And that ten-year-old has a watch that turns him into a rock."
"I'm ten and a half!" Ben shouted.
"Quiet," I commanded, and the authority in my voice actually made them jump. "You were chosen because you represent the three pillars of the new world: The Human Element, the Extraterrestrial, and the Supernatural. Individually, you are anomalies. Together, you are a deterrent."
I flicked a finger, and a holographic map of the world appeared on their screens. It was covered in red dots—hotspots of 'unexplained activity' that I'd been tracking since the moment I woke up in this body.
"There is a storm coming," I said. "A crossover event that none of you can handle alone. I have created a secure, 'ghost-proof,' 'alien-encoded' communication hub. You will use it. You will share intelligence. And when I call, you will move."
"And if we don't?" Kim challenged. "What's stopping us from just... blocking you?"
"Nothing," I said simply. "But the next time a Vilgaxian drone or a Level 5 Ecto-Entity shows up at your school, you'll be fighting it alone. And I think we all know how that worked out at the Burger Shack."
There was a long silence. I watched their vitals—heart rates stabilizing, pupils dilating. They were hooked.
"Fine," Kim said finally. "But I want a name. If we're a 'team,' what are we called?"
I looked at the 'Unity' file on my screen. I thought about the insurance adjuster I used to be, and the 'Possible' I had become.
"The Possible Protocol," I said. "Because as of tonight, the impossible is officially a matter of record."
I cut the feed before they could respond.
"Sheila," I said, leaning back as the lab hummed with the afterglow of the transmission. "How did I do?"
["You were very dramatic, Danny. A bit heavy on the 'mysterious benefactor' tropes, but the 'flickering glitch' avatar was a nice touch."]
"It's all about the presentation, Sheila," I said, a small smile playing on my lips. "Now, get me the files on the New York 'Dragon.' I think it's time we expanded the cast."