I wrote this story and ran it through chatgpt to fix it up, then made some edits to fix AI idiocy. I thought it came out well and I wanted to share it
### Part 1: Arrival and Reunion
The man stood outside the familiar yet different brick building in New York. The firehouse looked the same as it always had, but the year wasn’t. The sign, iconic “Ghostbusters” hung above the door and the red-and-white logo beamed proudly above the door. He took a breath and walked in.
Inside, Janine Melnitz glanced up from her desk, the sound of the door chiming drawing her attention. The man, tall, late 40s, with a modern yet out-of-place aura about him, stepped in confidently. Janine, having dealt with all manner of clients for years, assumed he was another person in need of paranormal assistance.
“Can I help you?” Janine said dryly, eyeing him up. “You got a spook in your closet? Something strange in your neighborhood?”
The man gave a small smile and shook his head. “No, ma'am, I’m not a client. I’m here to speak with the Ghostbusters. I need to show them something important.”
Setting his bag down and pulling out a few trade collections of the IDW *Ghostbusters* comics. “I think it’s best if I explain to the team.”
At that moment, the iconic firehouse pole rattled as Ray, Peter, Egon, and Winston slid down from the second floor, laughing about something Winston had said. They spotted the stranger, and Peter immediately went into his usual snarky mode.
“Hey, Ray, did we hire a consultant and I forgot about it?” Peter quipped, looking the man up and down. “Or did you come to check out our vintage décor?”
“I’m here to show you something,” the man said, unfazed by Peter’s sarcasm. He lifted the trade collections of their lives and held them out to Ray, who took them with a perplexed look. “These are your lives… documented as comics in another universe.”
Ray’s face lit up with curiosity as he flipped through the pages. “Wait, this is us? Like, actual us?”
“Yes,” the man said, setting his 2020s laptop on the desk. “I need you all to sit down and watch something. It’s going to explain everything.”
Peter, ever the skeptic, folded his arms. “Look, unless you’ve got some groundbreaking info on why ghosts are allergic to Twinkies, I don’t see how this is worth our time.”
“You’ll want to see this. Trust me,” the man said, his tone steady but insistent.
With a shrug, Peter gave in, and the four of them sat down. The man opened his laptop, plugged in an external drive, digital projector, and began playing the MP4 files: *Ghostbusters: Afterlife* and *Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire*.
The firehouse, went quiet as the five of them watched the events unfold. The haunting return of Gozer, the bravery of Egon in his final moments, and the chilling rise of Garraka played out before them, scene by scene.
When it was over, Peter broke the silence with his usual deflection tactic. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but watching my future self age like fine wine was the highlight of my day.”
Ray’s voice, unusually solemn, interrupted Peter’s banter. “This… this can’t be real.”
The man nodded. “It’s real in that universe. But there’s still time to save your Egon in this one. You’ve all dealt with alternate universes before. You know this is possible.”
Egon, who had been uncharacteristically quiet through the whole viewing, adjusted his glasses. “The temporal and dimensional discrepancies between our universe and theirs could be stabilized, theoretically, with the right kind of technology.” He glanced at the stranger. “But how exactly are we supposed to get there, the Interspatial Teleportation Unit?”
“That’s where I come in,” the man said. “You’ve used the Turtles’ tech for dimension hopping before, but this time, we don’t need it. I have an ability to transport you there directly, but we need to act quickly. We’re arriving a week before the events of *Ghostbusters: Afterlife*.”
The group shared a look of understanding. They had faced gods, demons, and everything in between. Traveling to an alternate version of their world was just another day at the office.
Peter sighed, stretching. “All right, I’m in. Let’s go save this Egon and stop yet another apocalypse. Just when I thought retirement was around the corner.”
Ray clapped his hands together. “I’m with you. Let’s load up Ecto-1!”
Winston, always pragmatic, started packing up gear, running diagnostics on the PKE meters and trap systems. “I’ll grab anything that might help, especially with Gozer involved.”
Egon meticulously packed their most advanced equipment, paying special attention to their proton packs, while Winston checked over the car. Within an hour, the team was ready. The man stood at the side, watching them load Ecto-1 with everything they’d need to prevent catastrophe in the alternate world.
“Ready when you are,” the man said. He placed a hand on the car, and with a sudden rush of wind, the firehouse vanished, replaced by a rural countryside with vast, open fields stretching as far as the eye could see.
They were in another world in the year 2020.
### Part 2: Confronting the Old Egon
The winding dirt path led up to an old farmhouse that had seen better days. Old Egon Spengler, hair white and unruly, stepped out of his house at the sight of Ecto-1 rolling down the path. His eyes widened as the car drew closer, and he recognized it—but this Ecto-1 wasn’t rusty and decrepit. It gleamed, well-maintained, like the one he used to drive.
As the car pulled up and parked, Old Egon stood frozen in place. His confusion grew into disbelief when four figures in jumpsuits stepped out, looking much like the men he used to work with—only younger. Including… himself.
Peter was the first to speak, ever the jokester even in the most surreal of circumstances. “Okay, Spengs, before you freak out, just know we come in peace. Also, you look great for a guy who’s been playing hermit.”
Ray stepped forward, all earnestness. “Egon, we’re here to help. We know what you’ve been doing, and we’re here to finish it.”
Old Egon blinked, his analytical mind working overtime. “Ray? Peter? Winston?” His eyes settled on his younger self, and he shook his head. “This… can’t be possible.”
But it was.
After a brief introduction, they led Old Egon into his lab, where they discussed his plan to trap Gozer’s terror dogs and prevent another catastrophe. The younger Ghostbusters marveled at the jerry-rigged proton pack he’d created, especially the younger Egon, who was eager to incorporate the improvements into his own world’s technology.
“You’ve managed to repurpose common hardware components to boost power output,” Younger Egon said, examining the pack. “Ingenious. I’ll have to integrate this into our own proton packs when we get back.”
Old Egon offered a faint smile. “It’s not perfect, but it works.”
Over the course of the week, they prepared for the terror dogs’ arrival. The stranger, still an enigma, showed Old Egon the future that awaited him on his 2020s laptop—the events of *Ghostbusters: Afterlife*. Seeing himself die, realizing how disconnected he had become from his family, hit Old Egon hard.
“I... I pushed them all away,” Old Egon muttered, guilt washing over him. “Callie… I haven’t seen her in years. And Phoebe… Trevor… I’ve never even met them.”
Younger Ray put a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “It’s not too late, Egon. Once we stop Gozer, we’ll help you fix things with your family.”
With their combined efforts, catching the terror dogs proved easier than expected. Seven people were more than enough to outmaneuver and trap the spectral creatures. However, the “Temple of Gozer” in the mine still posed a threat.
Old Egon’s temporary solution—a rigged proton pack to push the Temple of Gozer’s energy back down—wasn’t enough for a permanent fix. They needed a new plan, and fast.
### Part 3: The Mine and Shandor’s Legacy
The next day, as they ventured deeper into the mine, the oppressive atmosphere of Summerville’s haunted underbelly weighed heavily on the group. They stepped out of the lift and entered the temple of Gozer.
Ray stepped carefully, keeping his PKE meter at the ready. "I've seen readings like this before, but never on this scale. It’s... off the charts."
Old Egon led the way with a stern focus, while Younger Egon stayed close by, studying the improvised proton pack system Old Egon had rigged up the previous year. The pack’s power surged in rhythm with the pulsing energy coming from the well, which had been the source of the tremors plaguing the town.
In the center of the room was the yawning well—a dark, endless pit of swirling PKE energy. A powerful, eerie glow illuminated the chamber as if the well itself was alive. Spectral figures spiraled up from the pit, their faces twisted in endless torment, only to be slammed back down as Old Egon’s pack kicked in, forcing the spirits downward. Every time it activated, the ground trembled.
Peter, never one to miss an opportunity for sarcasm, rubbed his forehead. “And here I was hoping that this was just a regular haunted mining town. But no, we get the underground ghost geyser.”
Old Egon ignored Peter’s quip, his focus purely on the task at hand. He stepped toward the rigged proton pack, the familiar clanking of his boots on stone sending vibrations through the ground. "This is the source of the activity. With the terror dogs contained, Gozer can’t re-enter this world... but the temple’s PKE concentration has reached a critical mass."
Younger Egon, examining the rig, nodded. "The pack is forcing the ghosts down, but the energy keeps regenerating. If we don’t deal with this, the well will continue producing these waves of paranormal activity. The tremors will get worse, and eventually, these proton packs will fail and entities will spill out into Summerville and the world."
Ray was engrossed in the readings from his PKE meter, and his mind raced as he pieced things together. "What we need to do is disperse the energy completely, stop it from re-coalescing. If the PKE isn't concentrated here, the temple will become dormant again. No energy, no ghosts."
Suddenly, Peter’s headlamp illuminated a strange, elaborate almost Gothic object at the far end of the chamber. He stepped forward, nonchalant as always, and leaned closer to inspect what he’d found.
“Well, well, well... What do we have here?” His tone was dry, almost dismissive, as he waved the beam of light over the glass coffin containing a familiar figure. “Evo Shandor, everybody.”
The group’s attention snapped toward Peter, and Old Egon visibly stiffened.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Winston muttered, stepping closer. “This guy again?”
Peter leaned against the coffin as if it were a park bench. "Guess he wasn’t content with a condo in hell. I’ll give him this—preservation work is top-notch.”
Ray, his eyes wide with recognition, spoke reverently, despite the absurdity. "Shandor... the architect of the original Manhattan building... He’s been here, dormant, for decades."
Younger Egon glanced at Old Egon, and they exchanged a silent understanding. The younger version of himself voiced the unspoken thought. "Shandor’s cult created this temple. They’re obsession with summoning Gozer—this is the byproduct of his work."
Old Egon responded, his voice gruff but calm. "If we disrupt the structures feeding the well, the energy should dissipate. But we need to be thorough. If even one focal point remains intact, the PKE could reform."
The stranger, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward. "If we destroy the physical structures—the conduits drawing the energy—we should be able to cut off the PKE flow. But we need to deal with the energy that’s already here first."
Winston, tapping the side of his proton pack, grinned. "I’ve got an idea. If we overload a pack, create a containment burst strong enough, it could blow the existing PKE energy away from the well, spread it out before it can focus again."
Younger Egon adjusted his glasses, considering. "A controlled overload, could do the trick. But it’s risky. We’d be directing an immense amount of energy at a single point. If we miscalculate…"
Old Egon finished the thought grimly. "We could blow the entire mine sky-high."
Peter shrugged. "Hey, nothing we haven’t done before. Let’s just make sure we’re out of the blast radius this time."
The two Egons worked together, outlining the plan. The other Ghostbusters followed their lead, preparing a pack for what would be the biggest energy discharge they’d ever attempted. They divided into two teams: the Egons and Ray would set up the overload mechanism, while Peter and Winston would take point near the mine’s structural conduits, ready to blast them on cue.
As they worked, the stranger stood by, watching with a mix of curiosity and quiet concern. He wasn’t a Ghostbuster, but his role in this was just as crucial. He had brought them here, after all, and now it was time to ensure the plan succeeded.
### Part 4: Containment Burst
Once everything was in place, the teams gathered near the well. The air crackled with energy, the temperature dropping sharply as the mine’s supernatural activity intensified. The ground beneath their feet trembled once more, a deep, resonant rumble from the well below.
Old Egon looked around at his younger counterparts. "When the pack hits maximum capacity, we’ll discharge it simultaneously. Ray, you and I will monitor the energy levels. Once we’re sure the PKE has dispersed, we’ll blow the structures."
Peter gave a mock salute. "And then we all retire to the farmhouse for some nice, cold lemonade."
"Ready?" Ray asked, flipping a switch on his pack.
"Ready as we’ll ever be," Winston muttered, securing his grip on the thrower.
They activated their packs. The whine of charging proton streams filled the air, growing louder by the second. Energy crackled around them, building to an almost unbearable pitch. The well responded, the ghosts clawing their way upward, only to be slammed back by the rising containment field.
"On my mark!" Old Egon shouted, watching the readouts on the makeshift monitoring device he’d rigged together with his younger self. "Three... two... one... NOW!" Then threw the pack into the rising spirits.
The blast was instantaneous. Beams of concentrated energy shot out from each pack, converging at the center of the well. The ghosts screeched as the force of the contained burst overwhelmed them, scattering the spectral figures into nothingness. The pit itself pulsed once, twice, then fell silent as the energy dispersed.
Winston gave a nod to Peter who immediately aimed their streams at the surrounding conduits. The stone structures that had been feeding the well’s energy shattered under the force of their combined attack, breaking apart with a thunderous crash.
The rumbling stopped. The oppressive energy that had filled the mine vanished, leaving only an eerie stillness behind.
Ray wiped sweat from his brow, his face breaking into a grin. "We did it!"
Old Egon, though exhausted, allowed himself a small smile. "For now."
Peter, already looking back at the entrance of the mine, quipped, "Well, we just saved the world—again. Somebody get me a medal, or at least a sandwich."
### Part 5: The Future Awaits
Back at the farmhouse, with the immediate threat neutralized, Old Egon sat quietly at the table, the weight of everything he had seen and learned pressing down on him. He had been so consumed by his mission to stop Gozer that he had pushed away everything and everyone that mattered, including his own family.
Younger Ray, sitting across from him, broke the silence. "You can still fix this, Egon. Callie and Phoebe... Trevor. You can see them. You can make things right."
Old Egon nodded slowly. "I will. But not just for me. For them."
The stranger, standing by the door, spoke up. "And once you do, the world will need your help again. There will be new ghosts appearing in New York soon. It’s not over yet."
Old Egon glanced at him, determination replacing the guilt in his eyes. "I’ll be there."
### Part 6: A Call Across Time
Old Egon sat quietly in the farmhouse, the ghosts of his past weighing heavily on him, more than the paranormal kind he had spent his life fighting. The room was dimly lit.
The stranger—calm, methodical—handed Egon a cell phone. “Here. Call her. You’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
Egon hesitated, holding the phone like it was a proton thrower about to misfire. He glanced at the stranger. “I saw what happened. I left them. I failed her.”
“You still have a chance to make it right,” the stranger said, his voice reassuring but firm. “I’ve seen the future, remember? You don’t have time to wait any longer.”
Egon inhaled sharply, then dialed. Each ring made his heart pound faster, and for a moment, he almost considered hanging up. But then, a voice answered.
“Hello?”
It was Callie. His daughter.
“Callie…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “It’s me. Your father.”
There was silence on the other end, and Egon could almost feel her tension through the line. Then, she spoke, her voice tight. “Egon Spengler? You have *some* nerve calling me.”
She was about to hang up, he could tell, and panic surged in his chest. “Wait, please,” he said, urgently. “I know I haven’t been there for you. I know you’re angry—no, you have every right to be. But… I want to help. I know things have been tough for you.”
“Help?” Callie’s voice dripped with disbelief. “What could *you* possibly do? We’re about to be evicted!”
“I know,” Egon replied, his tone softening. “That’s why I’m calling. I have a home. It’s… in Summerville, Oklahoma. It’s not much, but it’s a place. You and the kids can come stay with me. You won’t have to worry about the rent anymore.”
There was a long pause. Egon could hear the tension in her breathing, the anger barely held back. “So now, out of nowhere, you want to play house? After all these years?”
“I know it’s not what you wanted,” Egon admitted. “But it’s all I can offer. I just want to help you. Let me try.”
Callie’s voice was colder now, but beneath it, Egon heard resignation. “I don’t have many options. Fine, we’ll come. But don’t expect anything. This doesn’t fix things between us.”
Egon nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “I understand. I’ll send you the address.”
She hung up without another word, leaving Egon staring at the phone in his hand, lost in thought. The room felt emptier than it had just moments before.
The stranger, standing silently nearby, spoke up. “You did what you could. Now, the rest is up to you—and her.”
Old Egon turned to his younger self, who had been quietly observing the entire exchange. “Your Callie is only seventeen right now. You still have time to make things right.”
Younger Egon’s expression was pensive as he nodded, the weight of his older self’s words settling in. “I do,” he said quietly. “And I will. I won’t let it get to this point.”
Old Egon’s face softened, showing a rare hint of vulnerability. “You have the chance I never took. Don’t waste it.”
### Part 7: Rebuilding Broken Friendships
While Egon wrestled with his family, there was another, equally important task ahead—mending old friendships. Ray was the first to step up, always the glue that held the team together, even when they drifted apart.
“I’ll give it a shot,” Ray said, taking Old Egon’s phone. “If anyone can convince Peter and Winston, it’s me.”
He dialed the familiar number for Ray’s Occult Books in New York, where his older counterpart still operated his shop. After a few rings, the line clicked open.
“Ray’s Occult, we’re open for all your supernatural needs,” the voice on the other end said with enthusiasm, but there was a world-weary edge to it.
Ray couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I hope you’ve still got room for one more supernatural conversation—because this is Ray… from another universe.”
There was a stunned silence on the other end before the older Ray’s voice crackled back with a mix of awe and excitement. “No way! This is… incredible! You’re… me?”
“Yep! Younger, but definitely still you,” Ray said with a grin. “Listen, I’m calling because we’ve got a bit of a situation over here. But more importantly… you, Winston, and Peter—my friends—my family—you’ve drifted apart in your world, haven’t you?”
The older Ray’s voice grew softer. “Yeah… things haven’t been the same since… since Egon left.”
Ray exclaimed, "Man, Egon wasn’t kidding about trouble brewing out here in Oklahoma! We were this close to another fourfold cross-rip!"
The older Ray on the other end of the phone hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Yeah... I should’ve known better when Egon tried to reach out all those years ago. I just—" He paused, his voice wavering with a mix of regret and frustration. "We all thought he was chasing another one of his kooky theories. But he was right? Damn it... I shouldn’t have doubted him. I should’ve listened."
The younger Ray nodded on his end, trying to offer reassurance. "Hey, it’s not too late. You’ll make it right. We all will."
“Well, we’re working to change that,” the younger Ray said. “And I think it’s time you guys patched things up, too. I know you still care.”
The older Ray was silent for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. I’ll call them. I’ll get everyone together.”
“Good,” younger Ray replied, relief in his voice. “You’ll want to catch up, especially after what’s coming next.”
### Part 8: A Glimpse Into the Future
True to his word, the older Ray got in touch with Winston and Peter. Soon enough, phone calls were exchanged, old friendships rekindled, and plans were made to reconnect.
But the stranger had something else to offer—something more than words could prepare them for. He had seen not only the events of *Ghostbusters: Afterlife* but something beyond that—*Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire*.
Using mp4 files riped from blu-rays in his world, the stranger sent copies of both movies—files from an another world. He sent them over to Winston over the internet.
“This… this is insane,” Winston said over the phone, examining the MP4 files as the stranger explained what they were. “These movies—what you’re saying—were fictional in another world?”
The stranger nodded. “Your world is different. But you need to know what’s coming. You stopped Gozer in 1984, but this world there’s other threats. Big ones.”
“*Frozen Empire*?” Winston raised an eyebrow looking at the files on his desktop pc “What kind of sequel is this?”
“It’s more than just another ghost uprising,” the stranger explained, his voice serious. “It’s the rise of something worse—Garokka, an ancient evil that freezes New York and brings forth new waves of ghosts. You’re going to face something even dangerous.”
Winston leaned back in his chair, phone in hand, absorbing the information. “So, what you’re saying is we’re not done yet?”
The stranger’s voice remained stoic. “Not by a long shot. But now, at least, you’ll know what’s coming.”
Over the next few days, Winston gathered Ray and Peter to show them the footage. Together, the three older Ghostbusters watched in disbelief as they witnessed events from a future that never was—the death of Egon but his daughter and grand children defeating of Gozer, the restoration of Egon’s legacy, and the impending rise of Garokka.
Peter, leaning back in his chair after the credits rolled, sighed dramatically. “You know, I always said I’d never retire from ghostbusting. Looks like the universe decided to take me literally.”
Ray, his eyes wide with excitement, grinned. “This is amazing! We can stop this before it even begins!”
Winston, always the pragmatic one, nodded. “We’ve got the knowledge, and we’ve got the team. Let’s make sure New York’s ready for whatever’s coming.”
### Part 9: A New Chapter
Back at the farmhouse, Old Egon looked out the window, his mind swirling with thoughts of the future—of Callie, of Phoebe and Trevor, and of his old friends.
The stranger stood beside him, watching as Egon wrestled with the gravity of what lay ahead.
"You’re ready now," the stranger said softly. "You’ve set things in motion here. It’s up to you to finish what you started—with your family, with your team."
Egon turned to him, eyes firm with resolve. "I won’t let them down again."
The stranger nodded. "Good. Because there are others that still need you."
And with that, Egon Spengler knew that, though his journey was far from over, he wasn’t facing it alone.
### Part 10: Return to Their World
The younger Ghostbusters stood in front of the farmhouse, the crisp Oklahoma morning air brushing past them. Older Egon stood with them, his hands in his pockets, as the group prepared to say their goodbyes.
Ray, always the most sentimental of the group, gave Older Egon a firm handshake, his voice tinged with emotion. "Take care of yourself, Egon. You’ve got things covered on your end now."
Old Egon smiled softly, a rarity, as he looked at his old friends—his family. "You’ve done more for me than I ever thought possible. Now, go. Take care of your world."
Peter, never one to dwell too much on emotions, gave a small wave. "Yeah, yeah. If you need anything else from us, try to give a little more notice next time. Multiverse trips aren’t exactly light on the gas mileage."
Winston chuckled, patting the side of the Ecto-1. "We’ll miss you, Egon. But it’s good to know that even in another world, you’re still fighting the good fight."
The stranger, silent for most of the farewells, finally stepped forward. "It’s time. We have to go."
The younger Ghostbusters climbed into their version of Ecto-1, with the Stranger taking the jump seat. He gave Old Egon a nod, then shifted them out of that world.
With a bright flash, they arrived a few blocks away from their home base—Hook & Ladder 8 in New York City.
### Part 11: Back to the Firehouse
The familiar skyline of Manhattan greeted them, the midday sun casting a warm glow on the busy streets. Ecto-1 rolled through the Saturday traffic, its distinctive siren drawing attention, as always. They were home.
Pulling up to the firehouse, the team felt a sense of relief as they backed the Ecto-1 into the garage. The familiar sounds of the station greeted them. Janine Melnitz, standing behind her desk, looked up as they entered, her usual sarcasm ready and waiting.
"Well, look who’s back," she said with a wry smile. "Take a wrong turn in Albuquerque, or were you busy saving another world?"
Peter, taking off his proton pack, shot her a grin. "Oh, just the usual—stopping an apocalypse, saving an alternate Egon. You know, a regular Saturday for us."
Winston stretched, looking around. "It’s good to be back, though. We were starting to miss the New York air."
Ray, ever the optimist, was already thinking about their next steps. "We’ve still got a lot to figure out, though. The well in Summerville exists in our world too, and who knows what’s been brewing down there."
As the others continued their conversation, Egon made his way to Janine’s desk. He didn’t carry a cell phone as he hadn’t needed one for interdimensional travel. He turned to the stranger, who was standing nearby.
"Do you have the number?" Egon asked quietly, his voice tinged with apprehension.
The stranger nodded and handed him a small piece of paper. Written on it was Callie’s mother’s home phone number.
Egon took a deep breath, the weight of what he was about to do bearing down on him. He had faced ghosts, demons, and world-ending catastrophes, but this? This felt harder.
He dialed the number.
After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
It was Callie’s mother. Egon felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He hadn’t spoken to her in years. Their relationship had been complicated—he had never been good at balancing his work with his personal life.
"Hello," Egon said, his voice steady but soft. "It’s me… Egon."
There was a pause on the other end, and Egon could sense the tension.
"Egon Spengler?" she replied, her voice a mix of surprise. "I wasn’t expecting to hear from you."
"I know it’s been a long time," Egon admitted. "And I’m sorry. I… I’ve missed a lot, and I realize that now."
There was another pause. Egon could hear her breathing, hear the hesitancy in her voice.
"Well," she finally said, her tone softening slightly, "you haven’t exactly been around. But I’ve send you Callie’s photos from time to time. You know how she’s grown up."
Egon nodded, though she couldn’t see it. "Yes, I’ve been keeping up with her as best I could. But I’d like to see you two. If you have time… I’d like to visit. Maybe… maybe we could all spend some time together."
Callie’s mother was quiet for a moment, clearly weighing the idea. "She’s seventeen now, Egon, and… well, she’s bitter, just like you expected. I’m worried she might not want to see you." She paused before adding, "But... I’ll try and talk to her. Maybe she’d come around."
Egon exhaled in relief. "I’d like to try. I know I can’t make up for lost time, but… I want to be there."
They made tentative plans for a visit. Nothing grand, but it was a start. As Egon set the phone down, a heavy burden seemed to lift from his shoulders. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.
### Part 12: The Summerville Temple
Ray approached Egon, a thoughtful look on his face. "We’ve still got that temple in Summerville in our world. It’s the same as the one we just dealt with in the other universe. Who knows what’s happening there?"
Egon nodded, his scientific mind already running through the possibilities. "We need to investigate. Whatever was keeping the ghosts in check in the other world—there’s no guarantee it’s doing the same here."
Winston crossed his arms, looking serious. "We need to talk to someone in charge. We can’t just go digging around in old mines without getting permission."
Ray smiled. "I know just who to call. Walter Peck."
Peter groaned. "Not that guy again."
"Yep," Ray said, dialing the number for the PCOC. "We’re going to need his help if we want to investigate the temple in Summerville."
Peter shook his head, clearly dreading the encounter. "Why is it that every time we think we’re out of the woods, we have to deal with Peck?"
Ray smiled as the phone connected, and Walter Peck’s unmistakably nasal voice came through on the other end.
"Peck here, PCOC. What do you want, Stantz?"
"Hi, Walter!" Ray said cheerfully. "We’ve got a bit of a situation that we could really use your help with. You know, something big, paranormal, and potentially world-ending?"
Peck sighed heavily. "I swear, you guys live to make my job harder. What is it now?"
"We’ve uncovered a paranormal well in Summerville, OK," Ray explained, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of the events. "We need clearance to go out there and investigate. It’s crucial."
There was a pause. Then, Peck’s voice came through again, this time with a mix of irritation and resignation. "Fine. I’ll arrange it. But you better not cause another explosion in a small town. The last thing we need is a PR disaster on our hands."
Ray beamed as he hung up the phone. "Well, it looks like we’ve got our permission."
Peter groaned. "Great. Just what I needed. Another adventure with Peck breathing down our necks."
Winston smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, at least we’re doing what we do best."
Egon, now fully back in work mode, nodded. "Let’s get our gear ready. Summerville’s not going to fix itself."
The Ghostbusters gathered their equipment, ready to face whatever awaited them beneath the ground in Summerville. Another day, another world to save.
Statistics: Posted by Bison256 — September 25th, 2024, 4:55 pm