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Beneath New York City, two humanoid turtles and their sensei, a rat man by the name of Splinter awaken to the rumbling of their secret sewer home. Michelangelo, a short turtle with chubby freckled cheeks stumbles out of his room, rubbing the sleep crud from his eyes with a yawn.  “What’s going on?” he asks, slipping his orange mask onto his face. “Did Donnie blow something up again?”  “No! I did not blow something up again! I was sleeping same as you,” Donatello, a lanky turtle with a tooth gap yells, adjusting his purple mask. The lair shakes as Splinter steps out into the hall, leaning on his modified cane; a metal staff almost as tall as his shoulder with a handle near waist-level.  “Donatello, did you—” their master starts.  “NO! Why does everyone always assume I’m responsible for the lair crumbling? Maybe Leo’s responsible. Did you ever think of that?”  “Wait.” Splinter glances about the space. “Where is your brother? Where is Leonardo?”  “He’s probably at his night job,” Mikey says.  “His WHAT?!” Splinter shrieks.  Donnie and Mikey glance at each other dubiously.  “His… night job,” Donnie says hesitantly. “The job he carries out at night.”  “Since when does he have a job? He is a mutant. Mutants cannot hold jobs.”  “Uh he’s had it for a few years now,” Mikey says. “We thought you knew.”  “I did not—”  Before Splinter can finish his sentence, the wall behind him comes crashing in as a swarm of small robots with metal mouths bigger than the rest of their bodies tear through. The little robots look to the three mutants and the lights on their head blink before they let out a terrible mechanical shriek and charge at them.  “GO!” Splinter yells.  As Donnie and Mikey flee, Splinter rests his hands on the top of his staff, leaps up to put his weight on the cane. He spins around on the staff as if it were a pole, swinging his tail out at the robots, knocking them on their side.  He rushes to follow his sons as the robots struggle to their feet and resume their chase. When he catches up to them, more robots crash through other walls as the ceiling begins to cave in on them.  “The lair! My lab!” Donnie shouts, pausing to look at the chaos.  Mikey grabs him by the arm and tugs him along.  “Keep moving!”  “We have to leave. Now!” Splinter yells as they rush past the entrance to their home.  “Leave? Like leave leave? Leave and never come back?” Donnie asks, hesitating again.  A piece of the ceiling crumbles down behind him, collapsing on a handful of the robots only for them to bite their way out of the wreckage.  “I doubt there will be anything left to return home to.” Splinter extends his hand to his second eldest. “Now, my son.”  Donatello takes his hand and follows his father and younger brother out of their ruined home as the robots give chase, unaware of the laser grid he tripped, blinking behind him at the exit.  #  Atop the skyline of New York, the renegade mutants known as the Mighty Mutanimals give chase. Their target: the Chunin, second-in-command of the infamous Foot Clan. Tonight, the Chunin has just taken the life of a judge who advocated for mutant rights. The reason why is obvious enough for Old Hob. The Foot Clan aims to gather as many mutants to their forces as possible and when mutants have rights, have the chance at a good life they’re less likely to sign up for doing the Foot’s dirty work.  “Don’t let ‘im get away!” Hob, the one-eyed feline leader yells to his team.  “Not a chance,” the manta ray aptly named Ray calls back as he throws an exploding bolo sphere.  Just as the device would make contact, the Chunin slices through the cables and flings a volley of shuriken at the mutants in a single swift spin before continuing off on foot.  “I thought you said the cables were sword-proofed this time,” the trans lioness Sally Pride shouts as she rounds the Chunin and corners him.  She fires her gun at the ninja who deflects each bullet with his blade.  “I thought I DID!” Ray calls back as the Chunin moves to attack Sally. “Those cables shouldn’t be able to be cut by anything short of a laser.”  Chunin slices at Sally, narrowly missing her half-mane atop her head. She tries to shoot him at point-blank range but the ninja cuts her gun in half. Pigeon Pete swoops in to fly her out of harm’s way just as the Chunin tries to impale her on his sword.  “Well, could his sword be made of lasers or have a very thin laser running along the sharp end?” Pete asks over the comm, dropping Sally from his feet to land safely on her own.  Hob tosses her another clip for her gun so she can reload it with bullets while he fires off at Chunin.  “Unless the Foot are getting their weapons from TCRI directly I sincerely doubt it,” Ray says.  “This guy’s too much trouble,” Hob says to Sally as they run after the bad guy.  “Tell me about it. I mean one guy shouldn’t be this hard for a whole team of semi-professionals to kill.” Sally fires her weapon once reloaded and the bullet ricochets off the corner of a stairwell as the Chunin ducks behind it.  The ninja leaps over the stairwell entrance, tossing a grenade at the two cats.  “GET DOWN!” Sally shouts, shoving Hob out of the grenade’s blast radius.  Unfortunately, Miss Pride doesn’t know her own strength and sends them both hurtling over the building’s edge. Pete flies in to grab them by their belts just before they can hit the pavement but the adrenaline’s still in high gear.  “Thanks, Pete,” Hob says as the sound of another explosion goes off. “Ray!”  “He’s alright,” Pete says calmly as he deposits them on the next rooftop where they can see a missile fired by Ray following the Chunin’s path even as he changes direction. “Ninja boy’s probably not though.”  Ray sidles up to them, rocket launcher over his shoulder and a smug grin on his face. Hob snatches the weapon from him with a scowl.  “What were you thinking?! You can’t fire a missile in the city! Do you have any idea how much trouble that’ll cause our kind if the humans find out we fired it?”  “Relax, it’s not a real missile.” The ‘missile’ makes contact with the Chunin, exploding into a tangle of netting, trapping the ninja quickly. “It’s just a really fancy net-launcher.” Ray nudges Hob with his elbow and gives him a wink. “Heat-seeking was a nice touch, right?”  “Don’t get too cocky yet. This guy’s always got another trick up his—”  Chunin flicks a dagger out of his armored sleeve and makes quick work of cutting himself free of the netting.  “Son of a—” Hob swears, firing off a round of bullets at the ninja.  Chunin evades the assault as something starts beeping and flashing red in his pocket. He ducks behind a water tower and the beeping stops.  “Going to have to cut this short,” the Chunin calls out in his masked voice before tossing a flash bomb into the air, blinding everyone as he flees the scene.  “Where’d he go?” Sally asks, rubbing the spots from her vision.  “Don’t matter now. Guy’s long gone. Guess we should be grateful he’s got bigger problems than us right now,” Hob says.  “Yeah, grateful,” Ray mutters. “Won’t be able to see straight for a week to work in my lab, but sure, I’m grateful he ditched us.”  “What do you think he left in such a rush for anyway?” Pete asks. “Had to be something important, right?”  “Knowing the Foot, I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later.” Hob replies. “Let’s pack it up. This mission’s a bust and you know I don’t like leaving those three home alone for too long.”  “Ah come on, Hob, what’s the worst that could happen?” Ray asks, wrapping an arm around the cat.  “Three words. World War Prank.”  Sally shudders at the memory.  “My fur didn’t grow back right for a month.”  “Yeah my point exactly. Let’s move.”  Sally and Ray head off but Pete holds Hob back.  “You’re really not worried about the Chunin leaving like that? He never leaves that easy.”  “Oh I’m worried alright. But like I said, he’ll turn up eventually. We just gotta stay on our toes in the meantime.”  “And Red? Chunin’s still after him. You think he likes having to stay on his toes all the time?”  “Red’ll be fine. I taught ‘im everything he knows, right?”  Hob flashes Pete a smile he hopes comes across as reassuring but Pete doesn’t exactly look reassured as they head back to their vehicle.  #  Splinter, Donnie, and Mikey escape the robots by rushing to the surface. They emerge in a grimy alley in New York City—very typical by New York alley standards of cleanliness—and shove a dumpster over the manhole cover they popped out of, hoping to buy themselves time before the robots chew their way through. The three mutants collapse into a heap trying to catch their breaths. “There were so many… robots,” Donnie says. “Dude…” Mikey gasps, “you are officially… never allowed to… build a robot… for the next year. Ugh.” Splinter’s ear twitches at the sound of hissing beyond the alley. Curious, he gets up and peers around the corner, gasping at the sight.  “Boys.” He waves them over.  “No way,” Mikey wheezes, “Too tired.”  Donnie, the ever-curious turtle, forces himself up and over to his father and sensei.  “Mikey! Mikey, you are never gonna believe this! Come look!” Donnie exclaims.  “Ugh. Fine.”  Mikey joins them to witness two snake mutants—one green, one red both with two arms with three fingered claws at the ends of reptilian arms attached to their very snakey bodies—dancing to a beatbox-like style of flute music played by an accompanying human with dark skin, locs, and shades despite it being night.  “Mutants—” Mikey starts.  “And humans—” Donnie continues.  “Living side by side?”  “In… peace? Sensei, I thought you said they wouldn’t accept us.”  “Last time I was up here they did not. And there were no more mutants than our family alone. This… this is impossible.”  A whistle blows cutting the mutant/human performance short as a cop comes marching up. The crowd who were watching groan.  “Officer, we weren’t doing nothing. We were just—” the human boy starts as the cop holds up her hand.  “Not you. Them.” The cop points over at Splinter and his two sons who hesitantly step forward.  “Um, is there a problem, ma’am?” Donnie asks in a quiet voice.  “You two,” she gestures to the turtles, “aren’t wearing clothes. Dontcha know there are public indecency laws in place? You can’t go walking around naked in public.”  The cop puts her hands on her hips as Mikey grumbles, “Not like you can see anything gross or nothing.”  “Apologies, officer. My sons and I—”  “Oh, so you’re their dad. Well then that makes you responsible for this display of public nudity. Lack of clothes and discipline of kids, maybe I should add parental neglect to the list of crimes you’re racking up.”  Splinter growls and opens his mouth to rebut when a van pulls up, driven by none other than his eldest son, Leonardo who hops out of the vehicle and strolls over to them dressed in a blue t-shirt and jeans with a black leather jacket over top.  “What seems to be the trouble, officer?” Leo asks.  “Public indecency, parental neglect, threatening an officer of the law—” the cop says.  “We didn’t threaten you!” Donnie yells.  “Oh yeah? This rat guy over here made a fist whilst clearly getting angry with me. A threat of physical violence if I ever saw one.”  “I wasn’t—” Splinter splutters.  “I am so sorry, ma’am,” Leo steps between them. “My family are shut-ins who haven’t seen a public space in almost eight years. They’re a bit behind on societal customs. If you give me the ticket you were writing for the offenses I’ll be happy to pay them and will make certain that my brothers are dressed appropriately and that my father’s manners towards a fine law enforcement officer such as yourself improves in the future.”  The cop glances over Leo’s shoulder at Splinter with a smug look on her dumb face.  “See? Now this is how you talk to a policeman. You could stand to learn something from this kid.”  She tears off the ticket and passes it to Leo before heading back to her patrol car. Leo crumples the ticket in hand and turns to his family with an intense glare. He points at his van.  “Get. Inside. Now!”  “Dude where did you even get a car?” Mikey asks.  “Yeah, or clothes? What the heck, Leo?” Donnie adds.  “We will discuss this later. Right now, get in the car so I can get you all someplace safe since my surveillance cameras showed the lair getting destroyed by MOUSERs.”  “MOUSERs? Wait you know what those were?” Donnie pauses. “You have surveillance cameras in our home?!”  “Dude, that is seriously creepy,” Mikey says.  A banging sound comes from the dumpster covering the manhole cover.  “Like your brother said, we can discuss this further at a later time. We must get out of here,” Splinter says as he ushers his two youngest sons into the vehicle.  They all buckle in but before Leo can turn the key, Splinter asks, “But seriously, tell me you didn’t steal this.”  “Of course not. I bought it with money I made from my job… that I didn’t tell you about.”  Splinter glowers at him.  “We will be discussing that at a later time as well.”  Leo revs the engine and drives off. During the drive, his brothers peer out the window in awe of the city and the mutants comingling with the humans like it was a typical everyday occurrence, which it certainly seemed to be.  “How long have there been other mutants? How long have mutants been accepted up here?” Donnie asks.  “There have been other mutants since about eight years ago. Mutagen got into the water supply at the Bronx Zoo and caused a surge in mutations the same night Mikey snuck out of the lair last time,” Leo explains.  “I didn’t do it!” Mikey shouts.  Leo rolls his eyes. “Obviously not. Though the coincidence in events is weird. Anyway, after mutants started coming out of the woodworks, the humans panicked at first, even got their local superheroes involved, but then a group calling themselves the Mighty Mutanimals rose up to try and protect our kind and mitigate the hostilities. They actually managed to prove themselves as decent people as well as mutants in general, so some laws were put in place to give mutants personhood and the Bronx, which was ground zero for the Mutant Revolution was restructured into what is now known as Mutant Town.   “Some humans still live there but its majority population these days is mutants. Things have chilled out since then but that doesn’t mean things are perfect. There are still anti-mutant bigots, and cops like to abuse their power any chance they get, as you three just witnessed.”  “And you were going to tell us about these changes, when exactly?” Splinter asks, arms folded across his chest.  “Never. I was literally never going to mention it because if I did then you all would’ve wanted to live above ground with people and would’ve undoubtedly gotten yourselves into a lot of trouble. Me? I like to keep the amount of trouble our family gets into at a very low level. Maybe one percent trouble at most.”  “So, you were just going to keep us locked up in the sewers away from people, isolated and alone forever while you got to live freely topside and make money? How is that fair?” Mikey asks.  “I never said it was fair. I just said it was safe. I’m this family’s protector. Keeping our family safe and whole is my job.”  “As your father and the actual head of this family, Leonardo, I would disagree. I am responsible for you and your brothers’ wellbeing, not you,” Splinter says.  Leo scoffs. “Yeah, when has that ever worked out for us?”  “Excuse me?”  “Never mind.” Leo pulls the van over to a brownstone. “We’re here.”  They exit the vehicle and walk up the stoop through a heavy dark oak door into a barely furnished living space. A single couch rests opposite a bricked up fireplace atop barren wood floors. The windows are boarded up from both sides and the dining table sits crammed beside the staircase surrounded by five stiff wooden chairs, the kitchen barely visible through the doorway past that—its windows noticeably boarded up as well.  “Well, I see ‘keeping us prisoner inside our own home’ is the theme of the décor.” Donatello crosses his arms with a glare pointed at Leonardo. “How fitting.”  “Your rooms are upstairs, labeled with your names.” Leo points to the ceiling. “There’s not much in terms of style but I did try to make them feel a little more in line with each of your personalities. Though the goal of this place is to act as a temporary safehouse until more permanent, more secluded, and safe dwellings can be established. I have a bunker that’s in the process of being built on the outskirts of town about a hundred feet underground but that will still take about five months to complete.”  “I’m not sure what’s worse,” Mikey says, leaning over the back of the couch from his seat, “the fact that you’re building a secret bunker or the fact you want to keep us even further from other people.”  “And other mutants.” Splinter stamps his staff against the ground as he turns to face Leonardo fully. “We had a right to know that we are not alone in this world, my son. Your brothers had a right to interact with others beyond just this family.”  “And you also had a right to safety and continued living. Safety trumps social life and this was the best and most effective method to ensure the former. Now if you’ll excuse me, the emergency alert about the three of you getting into trouble distracted me from my job tonight. My boss expects me to report back to him immediately and he is not a man I intend to keep waiting.”  Leo heads to the front door but Splinter blocks his path.  “Then perhaps you should take us with you. I for one would like to meet this mysterious boss, whom I did not even know you worked for before tonight.”  “Sorry,” is all Leo says before tugging Splinter’s staff forward, throwing him off balance as Leo flips him over his shoulder, landing upside down onto the staircase.  Leo exits the building and a buzzer goes off, triggering a long series of deadbolts and various other locking mechanisms along every edge of the doorframe, including the top and bottom.  “Did he just lock us in?” Mikey asks as he helps their father to his feet.  Donnie makes his way over to the door to examine it.  “Yeah, and with how many complicated locks there are I don’t think I’d be able to get this door open before he gets back, and that’s not even counting the locks I saw on the outside frame.”  “I did not see any locks on the outside,” Splinter says.  “I only noticed because the frame looked unnecessarily thick. The locking mechanisms were hidden within it.”  “Okay, when Leo gets back, we all agree we need to talk to him about this paranoia of his, right?” Mikey asks.  His father and brother nod in agreement.  #  All is quiet at TCRI as Baxter Stockman, founder and CEO twiddles his thumbs whilst staring at the MOUSER control screen. His targets escaped and worse, the target he was specifically supposed to kill—though he’d rather take him alive—wasn’t even there. The MOUSERs were now scrambling to pick up the now cold trail and it was only a matter of time before Karai showed up for a status update.  “Stockman,” Karai says from the shadows.  Speak of the devil.  Baxter clears his throat as he swivels his chair around to face her. Keeping his voice calm and collected so as to not show the deadly ninja any fear that might’ve resulted from her sneaking up on him.  “Karai, surprised to see you so soon. Do you truly have such little faith in me?”  Karai lifts a MOUSER skewered by a kunai.  “Should I have more faith in you?”  She tosses the dead robot into his lap.  “I found these littering the sewers but no turtle bodies, much less Leonardo’s. Care to explain?”  Stockman laces his fingers together in front of his face.  “Leonardo wasn’t there when my MOUSERs attacked, something you should’ve been aware of beforehand as you more so than me would know if he was out and about tonight. As for the lack of other bodies, I don’t wish for the rest of these particular mutants to die and regardless, they do seem to be capable ninja as well. They’ve escaped for now, but my robots will find them soon enough, I’m sure. But perhaps if you had any more useful intel as to where these turtles and the rat call home—” “I only know where Leo goes. His family don’t ever leave those sewers.”  “Still. My MOUSERs encountered a number of security measures as they were tunneling through into their lair. I’m assuming Leonardo’s handiwork given in your psych profile,” Baxter turns back to his computer and pulls up a file, “you listed him as being exceedingly paranoid about his family’s safety to the point of contingency upon contingency and numerous methods of tracking and security. Speaking of tracking—”  “I don’t have access to his tracking devices and those are only good for locating his family. You’re supposed to kill Leonardo. The others don’t matter.”  “They do if Leo knows his family’s lives were endangered and spirited them away to safety. They’d most likely be with him now. But fine,” Stockman shrugs and turns back to the ninja, “you have no means of tracking them yourself but,” he leans forward on his elbows with a lopsided grin, “surely you must have some idea as to where he would’ve taken them?”  Karai considers this a moment.  “He wouldn’t have taken them to Foot Headquarters, but I do know he owns a safehouse of some kind in the city. I don’t know the address off the top of my head, but I can get it for you.”  “That’s all I ask.”  “And all I ask, is that you keep your end of the bargain. Hamato Leonardo must die.”  Karai turns on her heel and exits through an open window, Baxter was sure he always kept closed—and locked. He shuts the window with a sigh of relief. Dealing with ninjas was almost as anxiety-inducing as dealing with his benefactor from Burnow Island. One could kill him in his sleep. The other could destroy his life’s work with a push of a button.  Stockman wasn’t sure which would be worse to lose.  But no matter. Soon he would have Leo dead at Karai’s feet as promised and the rest of his old test subjects back under his thumb. And if Karai were to feel generous, he might even get Leonardo’s body to experiment upon, perhaps even bring back from the dead.  He’d already had tons of fun bringing one turtle back from death’s door. Imagine the thrill of doing the same to another.  #  The next morning, Leo returns to the safehouse with groceries tucked under his arm for the family’s breakfast. He shuts off the lockdown protocols and moves to open the door only for Michelangelo to come bursting through into the light of day.  “FREEDOM!” Mikey hollers.  “Mikey!” Leo calls back, narrowly avoiding a fall as Donatello pushes past him as well. “Get back here!”  Mikey takes in the street and all the people who barely give a second glance at him, a mutant, out and about just like the humans wandering the street, like the mutants passing him by. All the potential to make new friends. All the possibilities now open to him.  Mikey breathes it in as Donnie reaches his side. Donnie is now sporting a purple short-sleeved shirt over a white long-sleeved tee and ripped jeans. Mikey on the other hand is dressed in an oversized orange hoodie with some kind of graphic on it and cargo shorts. “You hear that?” Donnie asks.  The pair turn their attention down the street where a statue of several mutants stands tall and proud at the corner. They rush up to the mutants gathered there singing as Leo fails to catch them.  A mutant monkey beatboxes.  “Second verse, same as the first,” a bear says. “Now, when I say mighty, you say mutant. Mighty.”  “Mutant,” the punk frog, ostrich, and elephant chant back.  “Mighty!” the bear calls out.  “Mutant!” the others call back.  “Now when I say roar, you roar.” The bear pauses, gesturing for them to huddle together as the monkey drops a few more beats.  “Roar,” the bear whispers.  The elephant throws back her head with a trumpet, the frog ribbits, the ostrich squawks, and the monkey shrieks in a triumphant cacophony of animal noises.  “They are Mutanimals. The animals who got mutated,” the bear raps.  “A mite frustrated,” the elephant girl follows up.  “They might want ‘em to die,” the ostrich lady adds.  “But they are gonna survive,” the punk frog raps in a surprisingly deep voice.  “WE ARE GONNA SURVIVE!” the whole groups yells out.  “Mighty, Mighty, Mighty,” the bear.  “MUTANIMALS!” all of them.  “Mighty, Mighty, Mighty,” the ostrich.  “MUTANIMALS!”  “Mighty, Mighty, Mighty,” the elephant.  “MUTANIMALS!”  “Mighty, Mighty, Mighty,” the monkey.  “Mutanimals,” the frog finishes with his smooth bass vocals.  “Whoa!” Mikey cheers.  “Nice song!” Donnie adds. “Are you guys the Mutanimals we’ve heard about?”  Jaws drop.  “Buddy, you gotta ask that dumb question?” the monkey responds.  The bear shakes his head and says, “We ain’t the Mutanimals.” He gestures up at the statue. “They are.”  Mikey and Donnie turn their attention to the statue of the Mighty Mutanimals. On one side, Sally with her guns pointed off to her right. On the other, Ray with a heroic pose, arms raised for a fight. Pete above them, arm-wings spread as if mid-takeoff. And front and center, the one-eyed cat, statuesque trench coat billowing behind him as he advances forward mid-shout as if commanding his ragtag rebels to charge at their foes.  The plaque beneath the figures reads:  The Mighty Mutanimals  Founders of Mutant Town & Champions of Mutant Rights  Our Heroes  “Cool,” Mikey says.  “No, not cool. The Mutanimals are thugs and renegades that can’t be trusted worth a damn,” Leo says as he finally catches up to his younger brothers.  The other mutants nearby gasp.  “Blasphemy!” the ostrich shrieks.  The elephant grasps her chest and fans herself with her other hand.  “I have never heard a mutant show such disdain for the greatest mutants who ever lived before,” she says. “Never.”  “Come on guys, let’s bounce. These turtles are weird,” the bear says, ushering their group off.  Donnie turns to Leo.  “What’s your problem?”  “My problem?” Leo asks.  “Yeah. You said it yourself, these Mighty Mutanimals helped make life for mutants better. Why are you acting like they’re the bad guys?”  “They are bad guys,” Splinter says as he joins them at the statue.  The rat glowers up at the visage of Hob with a growl.  “Uh, sensei?” Mikey says, tugging on his father’s sleeve as his eyes catch upon something down the street.  “This… cat … destroyed our family, ruined our lives. He is the bane of our existence. He—”  “Is standing right behind ya.”  The Hamato family turns to face the one-eyed cat. Splinter immediately bum-rushes Hob and slams him against a nearby parked car.  “YOU!” Splinter roars.  “Me,” Hob says with a smirk. “Nice to see ya again, rat. You’re looking well.”  “I WILL KILL YOU!”  Splinter bares his teeth and moves to rip Hob’s throat out. Before he can, Hob’s legs leap up between them and kick the rat away. Leo rushes between them before Splinter can attack again.  “Stop!”  “Out of the way, Leonardo. You have no idea what this monster has done!”  “Oh yeah, and what did he do?” Donnie asks.  “Yeah, from what I’ve heard he seems like a kind of hero,” Mikey adds.  “He is no hero! He is a murderer! He killed your brother, Raphael. Now, he must pay! ”  Splinter charges toward him only to be restrained by Leonardo with ease.  “First off, Raphie ain’t dead. Second, we got off on the wrong foot,” Hob says, brushing himself off.  “Wrong foot?! You tried to eat my son!”  “First, pre-mutation hardly counts. Second of all, I had just gorged myself on a feast of trashcan pizza and saw Raphie straggling behind the rest of you and was just trying to give him a nudge forward. Ain’t my fault you saw my act of altruism as an attack. And thirdly,” Hob points at his eyepatch, “you clawed my eye out! I’d say we’re even considering I been taking care of Raphael these past ten years while you were washed down a sewer.”  “And whose fault is that?”  “Yours. If you hadn’t attacked me I wouldn’t’a knocked ya into the storm drain. Not my fault. That’s on you.”  Hob points to Splinter who snarls at him.  “Father, please. Control yourself,” Leo says. “There are cops nearby and I’d really rather you not get arrested again.”  “Technically he wasn’t arrested last night. He just got a ticket,” Donnie points out.  “Not helping!” Leo yells over his shoulder at his younger brother. “Look, why don’t we talk this out? Hob, was it? Perhaps you could do us a favor and kindly direct us to where our wayward relative is? That way we can all reunite and my father here won’t tear out your other eye.”  “Well, gee with a not-so-thinly veiled threat like that why wouldn’t I take ya to the minor that’s been dependent upon my care and protection for the last decade?”  “Are you insinuating that I would harm my own son?” Splinter growls through gritted teeth.  “Look, I don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do. I’m just saying you all seem to be fairly threatening and jumping to hostile conclusions and that ain’t good for a kid, especially one like Raphie who’s already been through enough shit for a lifetime. I’ll take you to him, because these two,” Hob juts his thumb at Mikey and Donnie, “actually seem friendly, but the second things take a turn for the worse or Raphael expresses any sorta discomfort, I’ll gut you myself. Capiche?”  Splinter growls before letting out a huff.  “Fine,” the rat says, extending a hand to the cat. “We’ll play nice,” Splinter crushes Hob’s hand in his own the second he accepts the handshake, tugging him forward to glare deep into his eyes, “for now.”  Hob pulls his hand free, shaking it out to get feeling back in the limb. He then gestures with both hands down the street.  “After you.”  #  At Run of the Mill Pizza, a quaint little restaurant in the heart of Mutant Town run by a skeletal man by the name of Señor Hueso, the Mutanimals recount their failed attempt to bring the Chunin to justice. Ray stuffs his face with a slice of anchovy pizza as he talks.  “So ffen, I aunched a eat-sicking net ocket and uh Chunin shtill eshcaped. I shwear he’sh shome kin’ uv unurfly demon.”  “Ugh, say it don’t spray it. Swallow before you talk, you heathen,” Sally says, holding a hand between her face and Ray’s in disgust of his lacking table manners.  Ray swallows the heaping bite of pizza.  “Well, excuse me. I forgot I was the only one at this table who evolved from wild animals. Oh wait, I’m not.”  “Wild animal genes or not, that’s no excuse to behave and set a bad example for the—Ugh.”  Sally gestures to Raphael and Mondo Gecko, who are similarly stuffing their faces like they hadn’t just eaten two hours ago. Raphael swallows and wipes his face with a napkin.  “Sorry, Sal.” Raph nudges Mondo with his elbow, forcing his younger gecko brother to follow suit.  “Yeah, sorry, Sally. But hey at least Slash and Pete are eating right.”  “And what does that say about you guys that a raggedy pigeon and a mutant whose mind has gone through the blender about a hundred times over are more civilized than you three?” Sally nods over to Pete and the hulking turtle, Slash. “No offense you guys.”  “Oh, none taken,” Pete says, cutting his pizza with a fork and knife. “I actually prefer the raggedy look. My feathers just feel softer like this.”  Slash covers his mouth with a napkin as he burps and then signs, My mind may broken but I’m smart enough to know who copy.   “You’re not broken. Stockman just hurt your head is all,” Raph says. “Now, me? I am plenty broken.”  “Can we all stop calling ourselves broken?” Ray asks. “Sounds way too similar to how people always call us ‘freaks of nature’ or ‘abominations’. We’re not broken. None of us are damaged and in need of fixing. We’re just normal people eating a normal lunch like normal people do.”  “Normal people who have never heard of table manners,” Sally adds, “but yes, I agree.”  The bell over the entrance dings and the Mutanimals heads whip toward it.  “Hey, there he is,” Mondo says, waving Hob down. “Hey, pops, over here.”  “Looks like he brought some… friends,” Raphael says. “Wait.”  “Are those—” Ray starts.  Hob steps up to their table with three turtles and a rat following behind him.  “Guys, I’d like you to meet the rest of the original six mutants; Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and the grumpy rat’s name is Splinter.”  “Uh, question,” Donnie says, raising his hand. “How exactly did you know our names?”  “Read it in the files TCRI’s got on ya. Stockman called Red here Raphael so that only left three other turtles named after Renaissance artists,” Hob says pronouncing Renaissance like Ren-nay-saunce. “And there was only one rat on file so it was pretty cut and dry there.”  “And how exactly did you get access to such files?” Splinter asks.  “Stole ‘em while rescuing Red. Also, how we met Ray and Sally over here.”  Mikey crashes into Raph, pulling him into a tight hug.  “New brother! Awesome! My name’s Michelangelo. You can call me Mikey, Mike, Michael, Mikester, or the king supreme.” Mikey dabs.  “You don’t have to call him king supreme,” Leo says.  Mikey sticks his tongue out at his older brother.  “Uh-huh, sooo where have you guys been all these years?” Raph asks.  “The sewers,” Donnie says.  “Ha! Good one,” Ray says, pointing to Donatello who just stares at him. “Wait, for real? In that case,” Ray pulls the plates of pizza and garlic bread away from the Hamatos, “stay away from the food until you’ve all been thoroughly decontaminated.”  “We care not for the food. Come along, Raphael, we are leaving,” Splinter says, turning on his heel.  “And why would I go anywhere with complete and utter strangers?”  “Because we’re your real family,” Leo says, grabbing for Raph’s wrist.  Raphael yanks his arm away with a sneer.  “I already got a family, thanks, and I don’t need you being all grab-happy like that Chunin creep.”  Splinter’s ear twitches and he turns back to the table.  “Chunin?” he asks. “What kind of Chunin?”  “The loyal right-hand of the Foot Clan. An elite army of ninjas that have set up shop in New York trying to overthrow the local systems of power and take over the criminal underworld,” Hob explains.  “Ninja. The plural of ninja is ninja,” Donnie supplies.  Hob rolls his one good eye at him.  “Whatever. Point is, they’re bad news and for whatever reason they seem to really wanna kidnap Raphie here. Luckily, we do a pretty good job of protecting him.”  “Not such a good job at actually capturing the Foot Clan or their unstoppable Chunin, though,” Mondo adds before chomping down on a slice of pizza.  “And you are?” Mikey asks.  “I’m Mondo. I’m basically Raph’s little brother.”  “Raphael only has two younger brothers, neither of which are you,” Leo says. “Raph, let’s go.”  Leo grabs Raph’s bicep and pulls him out of the booth. Raph breaks his grip and shoves Leo away.  “Make me, jerk.”  Leo calmly collects himself then cracks his neck to the left then right before taking a fighting stance and gesturing for him to advance.  Raph takes a step forward. Slash puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. Raph turns to him as Slash shakes his head.  “Slash is right,” Sally says. “This is neither the time nor the place to be instigating a fight.”  “ I’m instigating? What about him?” Raph gestures to Leo with both hands.  “Oh he’s a problem too, as is the rat demanding you go with them but I think there’s a bigger problem at work here.”  Sally leans back in the booth, crossing her arms.  “ME?!”  “No,” Sally answers. She points at Hob. “Him.”  “Me? What’d I do?”  “You’re the one who brought them here. Got any explanation for that?”  “Is it so wrong to want to reunite the OG mutants?”  “Well, considering Master Splinter threatened to kill you earlier, I do think it’s a little odd that you’d want to bring him around your friends,” Donnie says.  The table goes silent as all eyes turn to Donatello. The purple-clad turtle squirms under their stares.  “What?”  “ Master Splinter?” Hob raises an eyebrow.  “I’m gonna need you to explain that real quick,” Ray says, rising from his seat to his full six-foot-four height with a menacing glare, “because I have never heard master used in good connotations.”  “Except for master suite, master bathroom, MasterCar—” Pete lists out on his fingers, cutting off when Ray shoots him a look. “I’ll stop talking now.”  “First of all: those first two are directly derived from slavery so no, they are not good terms. Second: credit cards are evil so no, MasterCards are not good either. End point.”  “We call him master because he’s our sensei as well as our dad,” Mikey explains.  “Sensei?” Sally blows one of her bangs out of her face as she tosses her head to the side. “Like the Foot Clan’s master is their sensei? Like the people who want to kidnap Raphael? Hob did you know about this?”  “Course not! If I knew they were sum’n like ninjas I wouldn’ta brought ‘em.”  “The Foot Clan are after Raphael?” Splinter asks.  “All the more reason for Raph to come with us,” Leo says, reaching for Raphael again.  “Yeah, and how do we know you guys aren’t the Foot Clan?” Raph asks, jabbing a finger at Leo.  Leo takes a deep breath and says in an even tone, “ We aren’t the Foot Clan. We are your family and you are safest with us rather than a bunch of nobodies.”  Mikey stares sideways at his older brother, making a mental note of the exact wording he used. We aren’t.   “Hey, these nobodies have gone toe to toe with those TCRI goons several times, fought a war for mutant civil rights against the EPF soldiers. Put some respect on our name,” Ray says.  “Respect? On the name, ‘Mighty Mutanimals’?” Leo scoffs. “Seriously, who came up with that? It sounds like something a kindergartener would come up with.”  “Hey, I was roughly first grade age at that time, alright,” Mondo says, leaning far over the table. “And everybody loves the name.”  “Eh, it’s alright,” half the Mutanimals says.  “I guess it’s okay,” the other half says in unison.  Mondo drops back down in his seat, arms crossed with a huff.  “You guys are just jealous,” he mutters.  “Last time,” Raph says, “I’m. Not. Going. With. You.”  Leo lunges for Raph but Slash grabs him by the neck, slamming him against the nearby wall with a growl right in his face. Leo pulls a knife and presses it to Slash’s throat.  “Put me down or I put you down,” Leo says.  “Hey, hey, enough!” Donnie says, wrenching the blade from Leo’s hand and tickling Slash’s underarm to get him to drop Leo.  “How’d you know Slash was ticklish?” Hob asks.  “Lucky guess.” Donnie turns back to his older brother. “Leo stop being so forceful. Raph clearly sees these guys as his family more than us—Dad, don’t even think of interrupting—and so if we want Raphael to acknowledge us as family at all the best way to do that is to be peaceful, civil, and more importantly friendly with the Mutanimals. Therefore, I suggest the Mutanimals come over to that safehouse of yours for a nice joint family meal.”  “Free food? All right!” Mondo pumps both fists in the air.  “You want to invite dangerous renegades to our safe -house?!” Leo all but yells.  “It is a good idea,” Splinter says.  “WHAT?!” Leo definitely yells.  “Hm. Didn’t think you’d like that idea, rat,” Hob says, arms crossed, head tilted at an angle.  “Do not misunderstand me. I do not like you at all. However, Donatello is right. Whether I like it or not—and I truly do not like it—Raphael does hold you in his heart as his kin so unfortunately, making peace with all of you is the only path forward to restoring our family to what it once was.”  “Still don’t get how you see me as family when we never met before,” Raphael mutters.  “Perhaps not in this life, not that you would remember, my son. But we are family and always have been. Your brothers and I will see you for dinner tonight. Donatello will provide you with the address. Come by around seven.”  Splinter ushers his other sons to the exit after Donnie writes down the safehouse address and passes it to Sally.  #  Karai returns to Foot Headquarters and sneaks through to the records room where every last tiny innocuous detail about their members were kept. If the address of Leonardo’s safehouse was anywhere it would be here.  Opening a filing cabinet labeled H, she flicks through the various file in each of the three drawers before slamming it with a grunt.  “Seriously? Who organizes by given name?”  She growls and turns her attention to the cabinet labeled L and quickly finds the file on Leonardo. She peruses the file’s contents until she comes upon the safehouse address and snaps a photo. She sends it to Stockman and quietly pokes her head out of the filing room.  Checking the coast was clear she turns her head to the left and then the right, narrowly avoiding a slice to her head. She jumps back and takes a fighting stance. Her posture loosens as she takes in the sight of her many greats-grandfather, Oroku Saki—The Shredder—the blades on his gauntlets fully extended.  “Grandfather? Why—”  “Do not feign ignorance, nor innocence, my child,” Shredder speaks. “I know you have sent Baxter Stockman after the Hamato family, and more importantly, my Chunin.”  She grimaces at the reminder.  “Leonardo doesn’t deserve to be Chunin! He’s—”  “Far more skilled than you. If anyone is undeserving of the role it is you.”  Shredder takes another swipe at Karai who immediately draws her sword to block.  “But I’m your granddaughter, your blood!”  “That does not make you entitled to the responsibilities of Chunin, nor does it entitle you to my trust and respect, especially after such a betrayal as this.”  The Shredder disarms her in one swift motion and brings his blade beneath her chin.  “You know the blood oath Leonardo took with your grandmother. If any harm comes to his family on the direct orders of any in our clan then the deal will be broken and we will lose him as an asset.” Shredder lowers his voice an octave. “And he is a valuable asset.”  “Only because he had a few more centuries training under you, fighting by your side in the Netherworld of demons. If I had his training—”  “But you do not.” Shredder calls his blade back into his gauntlets and turns his back on her. “Call off the scientist. If Leonardo dies, so will you, granddaughter.”  She collapses as her knees give out in the wake of relief washing away her adrenaline, the only thing that kept her standing in the face of terror, the face of Shredder’s anger and disappointment. She releases a shaky breath and texts Stockman to tell him the deal is off. She may despise Leonardo and want him dead more than anything, but if her grandfather is serious about killing her for eliminating his precious Chunin then she cannot afford to take her revenge now. She will have to wait for Leonardo to meet his doom on his own.  #  At the Hamato safehouse, the family prepares the table for their dinner with the Mutanimals while Michelangelo finishes cooking. Leo stands in the corner, arms folded over his plastron in a huff.  “This is a bad idea,” he says.  “Yes, it is a bad idea to just stand there instead of helping your family set the table.” Donnie glances at him with a raised brow. “Did father teach you no manners?”  Splinter sighs. “I tried, but clearly my lessons went in one ear and out the other.”  “Burn,” Mikey calls out from the kitchen.  “I’m just saying that having the Mutanimals over is going to bring nothing but trouble.”  “So, your long-lost brother is trouble to you?” Splinter asks.  “Oooooh,” Mikey says, leaning past the kitchen doorframe as Leonardo flushes.  “Michelangelo,” Splinter warns.  “What, I can’t razz my big bro for being a jerk?”  “Michelangelo.”  Mikey sighs and heads back into the kitchen.  “Fine. I won’t tease Leo for hating our other brother just because he’s a Mutanimal.”  “I don’t hate Raphael! And I don’t think he’s trouble.”  “And yet without the Mutanimals, there may be no chance of returning him to our family.” Splinter sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t like them either, especially that cat , but these are the sacrifices we must make for family.”  Leo rolls his eyes at his father.  “ I know about sacrifices, thank you very much.”  “Then you should have no problem sacrificing your isolationist attitude for a nice dinner with our brother and his found family,” Donnie says, clasping his hands together once the setting is done.  “They’re not his fam—” Leo shouts, cutting off as a knock sounds at the door.  “I’ll get it!” Mikey yells, shoving past Donnie to head to the door.  Donatello drags Mikey by the back of his shell toward the kitchen.  “You still need to bring the food out. I’ll get the door.”  “No, me!”  “No, I will—”  “Ahem,” Splinter says.  The boys turn to the door where Splinter stands, hand on the knob.  “I shall get the door. Thank you.” Splinter turns the knob before casting one last glance back at his boys. “Behave.”  “Hai, sensei!” the turtles say in unison, save for Leo.  Splinter opens the door, greeted by the toothy grin of Old Hob, holding up a pan of tinfoil-covered brownies.  “Hiya, Splints. Sals, got me a book on manners and it says you never show up to a dinner party empty-handed.” Hob shoves the pan into Splinter’s hands. “Hope you like brownies.”  “Make yourselves at home,” Splinter mutters as he lets the others through.  “Nice place you got here,” Pete says.  “Yeah, very uh, cozy,” Ray adds.  “You mean small.” Sally hangs up her leather jacket on the coatrack by the door. “Guessing you’re not used to company. Sorry about Hob, we don’t get invited over much so I always have to go over proper etiquette each time.”  “Hob doesn’t like being nagged.”  “Hey, someone’s gotta. Remember how bad that human-mutant peace treaty signing could’ve gone if I didn’t get Hob on his best behavior?”  Slash shudders beside them and signs, I not there and news footage still make cringe.   “Um?” Splinter tilts his head in confusion.  “Slash is mute,” Sally explains.  “Yeah, guy doesn’t have any functioning vocal cords left after what Stock-jerk put him through,” Mondo says, taking a seat at the table and kicking up his feet as he leans back in his chair.  “Well, I don’t know exactly who Stock-jerk is,” Donnie shoves his feet down, “but non-jerks keep their feet off of where people eat, thank you.”  “Finally! Someone else who knows table manners,” Sally says, taking a seat beside Mondo. “I’m liking these guys already. What are we eating?”  “Fukagawa meshi,” Mikey says, bringing out the dishes, balanced perfectly on his arms and head. “It’s a dish from Japan’s Edo period made with short-neck clams and rice. I have also prepared kushiyaki—grilled beef skewers, and a side of roasted vegetables and miso soup.”  “Sounds delicious, but uh, why the Japanese theme?” Hob asks, as Mikey sets the plates down in front of them.  “I don’t know.” Mikey shrugs as he sits down between Donnie and Leo. “That’s just the kind of stuff dad usually made for us growing up. I think he’s probably some sort of Japanese-bred type of rat species.”  “Mikey, I already told you, father is a Wistar rat, a species that originates in Pennsylvania.” Donnie takes a bite of his fukagawa meshi before adding, “Dad is simply delusional and believes he was a feudal era ninja in a past life.”  Splinter’s ears perk up as he raises his head from his soup.  “I do not recall telling you that.” Splinter huffs before adding, “Though it is not a delusion.”  “I hear you talking in your study alone, something like praying or having a conversation with the dead? I’m not entirely clear on what but it’s clear you think you’re from an older era of Japan and have some dead wife. What was her name again?”  “Tang Shen,” Leo says, not looking up from his food even as all eyes turn to him. “Our mother’s name was Tang Shen.”  “Pfft, mother,” Donnie scoffs.  “Don’t dismiss her like that!” Leo slams his fist on the table, roaring with anger as he rises from his chair. “Stop talking about her as if she wasn’t real!”  “Leonardo!” Splinter snaps.  Leo slumps back down in his seat, stuffing his mouth with kushiyaki to keep from saying anything else.  “Sooooo, reincarnation or something?” Hob asks, hoping to break the tension.  Splinter takes a breath before answering, “Yes, but that is all we will speak of the topic.”  “Because you’d rather forget the past than learn from your mistakes,” Leo mutters.  “What was that, my son?”  “Never mind. Oh! Speaking of mistakes, I almost forgot to turn on the securi—” Leo pulls out a small remote which Donatello snatches from his hands. “Hey!”  “No security system,” Donnie pries open the back panel of the remote and rips out some wires and the motherboard, “especially since I’m pretty sure you just want to use it to attack our guests.”  “I own this safehouse, not any of you. I decide who’s a guest and who’s not and I decide that they are intruders. Not. Guests.”  “Gee, kid, tell us how you really feel,” Hob says, passing a plate of vegetables to Slash.  “I’m eighteen,” Leo says. “Technically I qualify as a legal adult by New York state law.”  “Then why are you being so childish?” Raph asks.  “I’m not being childish.”  “Five hundred thirty-two,” Donnie and Mikey say in unison without looking up from their meals.  “Five hundred and thirty-two what?” Ray asks.  “That’s the number of times Leo has said something untrue in the past ten years whilst fully believing it to be true,” Donnie explains.  “And you keep count on that, because…?” Mondo asks with a tilt of his head.  “Leo never lies,” Mikey says.  “Never?” Raph asks with a laugh.  “Never,” Splinter confirms. “At least not with the understanding that he is lying. Sometimes he’ll say something false simply because he believes it to be the truth.” Splinter brings his miso soup bowl to his mouth and slurps, setting it back down. “Take now for instance. Leonardo is absolutely behaving childishly, yet I am certain he views his actions as mature.”  “How am I being childish?”  “You refused to help prepare dinner or the table,” Donnie answers.  “You’ve been rude to the Mutanimals this whole time,” Mikey says.  “And you’re pouting more than Mondo when he loses a game of Monopoly,” Raph adds, jutting a thumb in the gecko’s direction.  Mondo slams a fist on the table.  “I didn’t lose! You cheated!”  “Not my fault you’re not smart enough to buy properties of the same color.”  “Cheater!”  “Dummy!”  “Raph! No insulting your brother. Mondo, stop being a sore loser or we’re skipping game night next week.”  The two boys sigh.  “Yes, Pops. Sorry,” they say in unison.  Leo purses his lips and takes a harsh bite out of one of his meat skewers.  “Got sum’n you wanna say, kid?” Hob asks with a raised brow.  “I have nothing to say to kidnappers.”  “Okay, Hob didn’t kidnap me. From what I was told, Hob was eating out of the garbage when Dr. O’Neil—father of our friend April, by the way—ran out of the TCRI building and collapsed after getting shot in the back, dropping a mutagen canister, a rat, and four baby turtles. We got exposed to the stuff and while you four were heading off into the alley, I stayed behind checking out the injured doc. Hob jumped down from the dumpster, picked me up with the intent to get me moving with the rest of you. Splinter saw, assumed the worst, then attacked Hob, clawing out his eye and getting swatted at, knocking all four of you into the storm drain on the other side of the alley. I was left up top with Hob after Splinter exposed him to the mutagen and we started transforming almost immediately after that. Then Stockman’s goons came swarming out of TCRI and Hob picked me up and booked it, knowing we’d be in trouble if we didn’t. Hob didn’t kidnap me. He saved me. If you wanna get mad about that then you can take your color-coordinated bandanas and shove them—”  “Raphael!” Hob yells.  Raph startles and turns to Hob, finger still pointed at Leo. Mondo leans over to his brother with a shit-eating grin.  “Ooooh, he full-named you!”  Hob turns his glare on Mondo and the gecko boy slinks back in his chair quiet as a mouse.  “You can’t tell me that you aren’t at least a little annoyed at the accusations,” Raph says in his defense.  “Annoyed? Sure. But it’s understandable. Nobody at this table’s a mind-reader. Ain’t like the rat knew my belly was already full when I got my jaws around your shell.” Hob picks at his food with a tilt of his head. “Though to be honest, I’m not sure I could’ve bit through your shell even if I’d wanted to.”  Splinter sends a most-pointed look Hob’s way. Hob clears his throat.  “Point being, the past is the past and we should all just get over it. No sense dwelling on it now and it ain’t like we can go back and change things. We’re all together now and that’s what matters.”  “I’m still unsure about these guys,” Sally says. “They still seem like ninja to me.”  “We are ninja,” Splinter responds. “Though despite what past experiences with the Foot Clan might have you think, not all ninja are bad.”  “Yeah, we’re cool as can be,” Mikey says.  “Some of us, anyway,” Donnie mutters, earning a scowl from his younger brother.  “Well as long as you guys aren’t going to hurt us, I’ve got no problem with you,” Ray says.  “Speaking of, Donnie, can I please have that remote back so I can fix it?” Leo asks.  Donatello rolls his eyes.  “For the last time, Leo, no. I don’t know why you don’t like the Mutanimals, but they have been decent company this whole evening. Now you need to just suck it up and move on.”  “Yeah, you keep acting like they’re gonna attack us or something,” Mikey adds.  “I just don’t like it when my family’s safety is jeopardized.”  “Your safety is perfectly fine,” Pete says. “We’re all friends here. You’ve got absolutely, positively, not a thing to worry about.”  # From the comfort of his office, Baxter Stockman watches through the cameras on his MOUSER robots as they surround the brownstone building. Through infrared imagery he can tell the mutants are all inside; the four turtle test subjects, the rat, and if the silhouettes are anything to go by—the entire Mighty Mutanimals team as well.  “This is going better than I expected.” Stockman reaches for his coffee mug. “Thank you, Oroku-san.”  He chuckles to himself, bringing the mug to his mustached lip as he waits for the rest of his MOUSERs to arrive on the scene. After all, one can never have too many destructive drones for capturing troublesome and wayward mutants.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After Leo’s outburst and threat of violence, an uncomfortable silence swept over the table. Only when it’s time for dessert does Michelangelo speak up as Hob cuts the brownies into squares.

“So, uh, Raph, what was it like growing up with the Mutanimals?”

“It was great. Started small. Just me and Hob those first couple years and times were tough then, ya know? Just scrounging to survive. Then we met Sally and Ray when Hob came to…” Raphael trails off, a distant look on his face.

“Red?” Hob whispers.

Raph clears his throat and continues.

“Anyway, we met them and stole a mutagen canister from TCRI. Dropped it in our escape near the Bronx Zoo and that started the mutant revolution. We took in Pete and Mondo almost immediately after, while the rest of the mutants that day had already scattered. Few months later while we were trying to protect the other mutants in those early days as the yet to be named Mighty Mutanimals, we ran into Slash. He was a bit aggro at first, but once we got that control helmet Stockman was using off of ‘im he mellowed out and joined us. And he’s been my big-slash-little brother ever since.”

Raph smiles at Slash and bumps their fists together.

“Hol’ up,” Donnie says before swallowing a bite of brownie. “How can he be both your big and little brother?”

“Illegal genetics experimentation. ‘Nuff said,” Ray answers.

“No! Not ‘‘nuff said’. What experimentation? How does that make someone both older and younger? Or did you mean physically bigger and little like he’s younger but the experiments gave him a massive growth spurt? You people make no sense.”

“Look,” Sally says, holding up a hand to stop him, “it’s a touchy subject for Slash so we’d rather not discuss it if it’s not relevant to any immediate emergency.”

“Aren’t all emergencies immediate?” Leo asks.

Before anyone can answer, MOUSERs burst in through the sealed up windows and chew their way in through the brick walls. Everyone jumps to their feet and takes a fighting stance.

“Like this kind of emergency?” Raph asks.

“See, this is why I said we shoulda brought our weapons,” Ray says, backing up against a wall as more and more tiny robots charge in.

“Funny, I recall you saying we shoulda brought ‘em because of Splints and Leo,” Hob says, whacking aside a pair of MOUSERs with a serving tray.

“Mikey, Don!” Leo pulls a bo staff and pair of nunchucks out from a hidden space in the wall and tosses them to his younger brothers. “Catch!”

“You keep backups of our weapons in the walls?” Donnie asks.

“Are you complaining?”

“No.”

“Toss me those sai, would ya?” Raph calls out, pointing to the other weapons in Leo’s hiding spot.

Leo grabs them and tosses them over with a dubious expression.

“You even know how to use those things?”

“Sure I do. Stole a pair just like ‘em from the Foot Clan before. Better defense against bladed weapons than as offense.” Raphael stabs two MOUSERs through the heads with the sai like skewers then swings the weapons hard enough to fling the robots out at their mechanical brethren. “But they’re not too bad for some stabby-stab.”

“Exactly how many people have you ‘stabby-stabbed’?” Splinter asks, using his staff as leverage to swipe his tail out at the incoming swarm.

“No one. My stabbing to been stabbed ratio is 0-1.”

“YOU’VE BEEN STABBED?!” Splinter screams as a MOUSER latches onto his arm, piercing his flesh with robotic fangs.

Sally knocks the robot away, catching Splinter as the robot’s tranquilizer knocks him off his feet.

“There’s too many of them!” she shouts, hefting the rat-man over her shoulders.

#

“We have to retreat!”

Pete’s voice calls out over the audio recording.

Stockman leans back in his chair, fingers templed together as he watches the scene with a grin upon his face.

“Stockman!” Karai shouts, startling him from behind.

“Jesus,” he curses as he swivels to face her, “use the door!”

She slams her hands down on each armrest, boxing him in as she gets up close and personal, a snarl on her lip.

“Call off the MOUSERs. Now!”

He waves a little, signaling for her to back up. She follows the direction and he turns back around to pull out a checkbook.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Writing you a check.” He tears the slip from his checkbook and hands it to her. “Consider it a refund. Thank you for the intel regarding my test subjects. Your services were much appreciated but sadly—”

Karai raises her katana to Stockman’s throat.

“I said, ‘call off the MOUSERs’.” She leans in, pressing the blade ever so slightly to draw a nick of blood. “That’s. An. Order.”

“I’m the founder and CEO of TCRI.” Baxter lifts his feet slowly off the steel floor, resting them on the plastic chair’s wheels. “I don’t take orders.”

He reaches subtly behind him, pressing a button on the underside of his desk, releasing a strong burst of electricity from the ground beneath them. Karai falls to the floor, convulsing from the shock. Baxter releases the button and the energy subsides.

He stands, towering over her as his lab tech Chet Allen, a middle-aged man in glasses with shaggy red hair and an unkempt beard enters the room flanked by a pair of security guards.

“I give them.” He turns to the trio of his employees. “You three, kill the girl. Have her body dumped in front of the Foot Clan’s headquarters.”

The guards step forward, but Chet grabs them to hold them back.

“W-w-wait! Wait!”

“What is it, Dr. Allen?” Stockman asks.

“The F-f-foot Clan are kn-known for retaliation. Perhaps it would be b-b-better to instead hu-u-u-miliate her.” Chet fiddles with the glasses upon his nose. “Tie her up in a clown suit perhaps and h-hang her in Times Square. The F-f-foot Clan would find her an emb-barrasment and renounce her. Odds of re-re-retaliation would be minimal and you’d s-still have retrib-b-bution.”

A sideways smile breaks out upon Baxter Stockman’s face.

“And here I thought I was the genius.” He shrugs. “Well, I am, but your idea is certainly gunning for second smartest man in New York.”

“Th-th-thank you, sir.”

“Guards, help Dr. Allen with his idea.” Stockman drops back into his chair, turning his attention once more to the MOUSERs. “I have more important matters to deal with at the moment.”

“Yes, sir,” the guards say in unison, grabbing Karai by either arm as the haul her off.

Chet follows behind them, casting a glance over his shoulder at Baxter. A smirk passes over Chet’s face as he shuts the door behind him.

#

Back at the safehouse, all but Hob, Slash, Leo, and Donnie have been rendered unconscious by the MOUSERs’ sedatives. Slash though is becoming more and more unsteady on his feet as more MOUSER fangs pierce merely the surface of his thick leathery hide, the paralytics being absorbed through the under-layers skin despite not reaching his veins.

“We can’t keep this up. There’s too many of them!” Donnie pants, batting the MOUSERs away more and more sluggishly as the others are dragged away by tiny robots.

“Gee, if only I had an electromagnetic pulse that could take out—oh wait, I did! Thank you, by the way, for disabling my defense grid!” Leo shouts as a MOUSER bites his heel.

Before Donnie can give a witty retort, one of the MOUSERs latches onto his wrist. Hob passes out to his left, knocking him to the ground before the tranquilizers can as Slash falls on top of Leo with a heavy thud. Donatello barely has time to think of how many of his older brother’s ribs were crushed under the larger turtle before sleep takes him.

#

The mutants wake up restrained—arms latched in on either side of them while their feet are gripped by steel. They’re all but hanging in individual and uncomfortable circular steel contraptions. The only one with more restraints is Slash whose limbs are being fed a steady stream of sedative.

“Everyone awake yet?” Hob asks, tired as all get out.

“We’re awake,” Donnie answers.

“Barely,” Mondo adds.

“Raph?” Hob lifts his head toward Raphael, still hanging unconscious. “Raphie? RED!”

Raphael startles awake.

“Huh, what?”

“Red, listen to me. Stockman ain’t here right now so I need you to use this time to get your head straight. Focus. You with me?”

Raph blinks at him, head still fuzzy.

“Are you with me, kid?” Hob asks again, sounding more desperate.

“Yeah,” Raphael finally answers. “Yeah, I’m—I’m with you. We at TCRI?”

“Think so. Not sure what level though. This one’s new.”

“Should I be worried about how often you’ve been here to know that this is a new level?” Leo asks.

“We can worry later,” Splinter says. “We must focus on getting out of here.”

“Not that easy, Rat-man. Stockman’s a diabolical son of a bitch but he is still a genius, loathe as I am to admit it,” Ray says. “Escaping isn’t going to be solved before the madman shows up.”

“Ray’s right. Right now we need to focus on keeping calm. Red especially.”

“Why Raph especially?” Mikey asks.

“You don’t wanna know,” Mondo answers. “Trust me.”

The Hamato family all turn their attention to Raphael, his breathing heavy and labored.

“Raphael? Are you alright, my son?”

“I will be once we’re out of here but I can’t be okay if I can’t get a grip before—”

“Before I enter the room?”

Baxter Stockman steps through the sliding doors across from them and Raph’s breathing comes to a grinding halt.

“Hello, again, my beloved test subjects. It has been so long since we’ve all been in the same room together. Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Splinter, you’re all looking well.” Stockman’s eyes find Raph’s and he steps toward him slow and intimidating. “And Raphael? How have you been doing since our first post-mutation tête-à-tête?”

“You ask that every time,” Raph answers in a pained whisper. “Every. Time.”

His hands ball into fists, veins straining against flesh as his muscles tense.

“What do you want from me?” Raph grits his teeth and lets out a slow breath. “From us… I mean.”

“My property back for starters.”

“Too bad nobody here’s your property, ya nut!” Hob yells at him.

“Perhaps. Your efforts to obtain rights for mutantkind have certainly dampened my effectiveness regarding my research. Hard enough to use animal test subjects without people cancelling me or trying to dox me only to get doxed in return. Add to that the increased level of sympathy those tree-huggers have towards animals following the mutation event allowing you creatures to express disdain for your human caretakers and suddenly people see any sort of mistreatment of animals as being inhumane as if you were to use actual people.”

“We

are

actual people, jerk!” Sally roars.

“Hardly. Regardless of how people may view you, however, money still talks. I can do whatever I want with you and as long as I bribe the right people—a reporter or two here, a handful of cops there—I’ll be able to get away with it scot-free.”

“Not unless we kill you first,” Leo says.

“Leonardo,” Splinter says, “we do not kill.”

“Seriously? He’s threatening to dissect and or

kill

us.”

“Actually, I’m not threatening anything. A threat is empty words strung together to sound intimidating. I don’t make threats. I make declarations of action. And I declare that I will spend the rest of this glorious evening taking various tissue and bone biopsies from each and every one of you until I have an ample sample of mutated flesh and blood to figure out the method behind the madness.”

“In English, Doctor Frankenstein?” Hob asks.

“Mutagen may be a wildly foreign substance of origins you would not believe but it is still subject to science and like all science should have predictable and constant properties. Water is wet. Iron is magnetic. Mutagen mutates. How though and in what ways and why, I would like to know. Why does mutagen turn animals humanoid? Why do a handful of those Foot Clan idiots go from being human to turning into animals? What would happen if you exposed microbes to the stuff? I don’t know and I might’ve been able to crack the codes had you,” Stockman’s voice takes on a harsher tone and increases steadily in volume, “ungrateful lab beasts not stolen my mutagen and then proceeded to lose it on the streets and at the freaking ZOO!”

Baxter slams his fist on the console in front of him, hunching over it as he regains his composure. He lets out a slow breath and straightens himself and his lab coat.

“No matter.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What’s past is past and I now have each and every one of my creations back under my roof. You won’t be leaving again.”

Stockman starts up a biopsy probe and turns to leave.

“Wait!” Leo shouts.

Baxter looks back at him, raising a brow in question. “Yes?”

“How did you find us? You sent those MOUSERs after us. You knew where we were. How? How did you do it?”

“An excellent question, Leonardo.” Baxter smiles as he turns fully toward him. “Let’s just say, I found them,” he gestures to the Hamato family with his head, “through you. And I don’t mean I followed you to and from your home. That would be as tedious as it would futile. I trust you know the powerful, spoiled, entitled enemy you’ve made?”

“Ya mean besides you?” Ray asks.

Leo takes in a sharp breath and nods.

“Yeah. I think know exactly who you’re talking about.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about her much longer. One of my lab techs is working on getting her out of my hair very shortly. She won’t be a problem for you or I for much longer.”

“Neither will you.”

Before Stockman can ask what that means, Leo dislocates his thumbs and feet and pulls his limbs free of his restraints. He collapses to the floor before popping his bones back into place.

Ray gags at the sight.

“Okay, that’s just wrong,” Sally says looking at him like he just hocked a hairball.

Leo ignores the comment and sweeps his leg under the probe, dropping it to the floor with a clatter. He looks up at Baxter Stockman whose face goes pale seconds before he flees from the room. Leo slams a fist down on the button controlling the restraints before giving chase.

The others drop onto their feet, all except for Slash—who faceplants from the dose of highly concentrated sedatives—and Raphael who falls to his knees, hugging himself with shallow breaths.

“Leo, wait!” Donnie yells as he and Mikey run after their older brother.

“Guys, wait up! You don’t know which way you’re going!” Mondo shouts following their lead.

“Neither do you!” Sally calls after them.

“Get back here!” Ray hollers as he and Sally run to catch up.

Hob unhooks the IV from Slash’s limbs while Splinter kneels beside Raphael, patting him on the back of his shell in an effort to soothe his panicked state.

“Raphael? Raphael, can you hear me my son?”

“Kid can’t hear nothing. He’ll be like this for awhile. BTS tends to scare the shit out of him.” Hob sucks in a breath. “Don’t tell Sally I swore in front of ‘im.”

“BTS?”

“Hm-hm, Tiberius, Hm-hm.” Hob nods in Raphael’s direction, emphasizing his point.

“I see. Why does he fear that man so much?”

Hob ushers Splinter to the opposite side of the room from Raphael. Once close, Hob leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Let’s just say this ain’t the first time the creep’s had Raph locked up like this. We just gotta wait out the panic attack and protect him from any robots or goons until he snaps out of it. Hopefully he doesn’t demolish anything before then.”

“Demolish?”

#

Leo runs through the labyrinth of corridors, losing sight of Stockman as he turns one corner after the next. He lost the others trailing him not long ago. Now he can’t find the man responsible for attacking his family. He takes a left down a long, curving hall, stopping at a junction when he hears Karai’s voice to his right.

“Let go of me, you creepy—” Karai’s sentence cuts short as she lets out a scream.

Leo’s hackles rise, not knowing much to scare the Shredder’s many-greats-granddaughter. He rushes toward the sound of her voice, turning a corner to find a man with scraggly red hair and a beard attempting to shove Karai through some sort of portal as a robot duplicate of the kunoichi comes out of it. The man hands the robot Karai’s weapons and Leo brushes off the initial shock to steal one of the swords and slice the robot in half. He grabs the man and brings the sword up against his throat even as the stranger maintains a grip on Karai.

“Let the traitor go, or lose your head,” Leo says.

“I am not—” Karai starts.

“Be silent, third-in-command.”

Karai growls at him but relents her objections.

“I think you’ll find I can do q-q—” the man’s head turns 180 degrees, “quite well without a head.”

The man lets out a sharp whistle, striking Leo with a powerful sonic shockwave to knock him away.

“What are you?” Leo asks as he regains his bearings.

“You may call me Chet.” The man turns fully towards him and shoves Karai into his arms.

Karai and Leo cringe away from one another in disgust, both turning on Chet with their weapons, Karai retrieving the second blade from the destroyed robot.

“You mi-mi-misunderstand,” Chet says.

“What exactly are we misunderstanding here?” Leo asks, sword aimed for Chet’s heart—or at least his torso.

“I saved Oroku-san’s life.”

Leo glances at Karai who shrugs.

“I’m sure Baxter would’ve killed me to avoid any trouble from me. I was surprised when I woke up still breathing.”

“First name basis with an enemy of the Foot?” Leo asks.

“First name basis with an enemy of you.”

Karai looks at him as if she could kill him with her stare alone, which she would happily do if capable of it.

“An enemy of mine

is

an enemy of the Foot Clan.”

“Ahem,” Chet says, returning the ninja’s attention to himself. “If you two are done bi-bi-bickering like children.”

“Why spare Karai?”

“And what’s with the robot?”

“Give us one reason not to kill you.”

“How about the robot? And directions to St-stockman’s panic room?” Chet asks.

“What use is the robot to us?” Karai asks.

“It holds m-much advanced technology that your clan would find helpful in your efforts. W-whatever they may be.”

Leo and Karai regard each other, a silent agreement passing between them. Chet is right. The robot’s tech could be handy to have.

“And Stockman?” Leo asks. “You would betray your boss?”

“I am my own boss,” Chet says, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “And my goals and int-t-tentions are in opposition to Stockman’s own boss.”

“Boss? Baxter is the CEO. He has no boss,” Karai says.

Chet gives a sideways smile.

“He may be the head of the company but the funding largely comes from a mysterious and dangerous benefactor. Now, do I have your word that I will be granted safe passage if I provide you with the panic room’s location?”

“Yes,” Leo answers. “Where?”

“The north end of the building behind a painting of Stockman’s family.”

“Family?” Karai asks.

“His mother, father, and younger brother, the latter of whom passed several years ago.”

“Didn’t take Stockman as the sentimental type,” Karai says as Leo takes off down the hall. “Hey, where are you going with my sword?”

“To find your friend. Consider your weapon forfeit. We’ll talk later,” Leo says, words biting as he speaks, “traitor.”

Karai rolls her eyes and slings the robot over her shoulders.

#

As the others continue their search for Stockman and Leo, the respective dads of the two groups, Hob and Splinter stand guard over Raphael. The turtle sits curled in a ball shaking furiously as he tries to quell his panicked mind at a frustratingly slow pace.

“How long does this normally take him?” Splinter asks, eyes flitting between his son and the only exit.

“There is no ‘normally’ with trauma, Splints. These things take time. All we can do is wait for him to come around on his own.”

“And if trouble comes knocking before he is ready?”

Hob’s right ear twitches. The cat’s muscles go taut as he rips the arm of the robotic probe off.

“Sounds like you’re about to find out. Get ready.”

Footsteps thunder outside, growing louder when a squad of TCRI security guards burst into the room, guns at the ready. Hob whacks the first on the back of the head and steals his gun. He tosses it to Splinter, who tosses it back and gestures for the probe.

Hob shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Hob tosses Splinter the robot’s arm and fires his new gun at the legs of the two guards nearest to Raphael. Splinter props himself up on the arm and swipes his tail under the three guards on the left. He then raises the probe and whacks the three of them on the heads before they can get up. They fall unconscious.

In the chaos of the room, Raph’s breathing turns to hyperventilation and his eyes go blurry and unfocused. Only when the last of the guards are dispatched do Splinter and Hob take notice of his worsened state.

“Raphie? Raph? Red.” Hob kneels in front of him, tossing aside the gun. “Hey, look at me. Look at me. Focus on my face, my voice. Ground yourself in the here and now. Just like Lindsey taught ya, alright?”

“Lindsey?” Splinter raises a brow.

“Not the time,” Hob says, barely sparing a glance back at the rat. “Red. Red, come on. Stay with us. Controlled breathing. In.”

Hob takes a deep breath in as Splinter reaches for Raphael’s shoulder.

“Splints, don’t!”

Too late, Splinter’s hand makes contact with the young turtle and Raphael’s fear skyrockets. He bats Splinter away with a backhand that is unreasonably strong and Raph charges out of the room before Hob can say anything more.Ho The cat turns to Splinter, helping him to his feet.

“You alright?” Hob asks.

“I am fine,” Splinter bites out past a pained groan. “We must get Raphael.”

Splinter runs after his wayward son, Hob hot on his tail.

“Wouldn’t hafta chase ‘im if ya hadn’t touched him. Don’t you know ya can’t get too close to someone when they’re like that?”

“Well, no. I’ve never born witness to any of my sons having such an episode before.”

“Lucky you,” Hob mutters, racing through a Raph-sized hole in the wall. “Dammit.”

“How is he so strong?”

“Remember what I said about Stock-jerk holding ‘im captive before? Well, guy experimented on him first chance he got. Infused him with this stuff called ooze. Acts as a healing factor and a muscular steroid. In very low doses like you get with the heavily diluted ooze pills the Purple Dragons sling, the effects are temporary and minor. Raph, he got a heavy dose. Concentrated. That stuff lingers. Bad. Nowadays his strength is so far past that of what ya’d expect of the world’s strongest man, I ain’t even sure he’s got much of a limit.”

“You said healing factor. Does this mean Raphael would recover from any injury?”

“I wish. Only speeds up natural healing process like broken bones heal twice as fast as normal. Can’t heal from lethal trauma though. Least not a second time.”

Splinter opens his mouth as they pass through another hole.

“Uh-uh-uh, don’t ask what that means. It ain’t mine to tell.”

“I was going to ask how much more building is left until Raphael breaks through the facility’s outer wall and plummets unto the street!”

Raphael’s roar of anguish reaches their ears simultaneously and they take the signal to pick up the pace, pushing themselves to their limits. They arrive at the same room as Raphael just as he breaks through the window.

“RED!” Hob cries out.

“Grab my sash,” Splinter shouts, disrobing.

Hob grabs the sash of Splinter’s robe without question as Splinter leaps out the window, gripping his own sleeve with his feet as he reaches for Raphael, barely clasping his claws around the hem of the turtle’s crimson hoodie.

Despite the strain on his knees—injured long ago in the fall into the sewers the night of his mutation—Splinter lets out a sigh of relief.

“Pull us up!” he calls out to Hob.

“Working on it,” the cat grunts, straining to hold their combined weight.

Splinter, works his way around, digging the claws of one hand into the building’s façade to climb, aiding Hob’s efforts. Working together they manage to bring Raphael back over the edge and into the building, the turtle having passed out at the sight of his plummeting doom.

Splinter slips his robe back on, tying the sash tight around his waist as Hob catches his breath.

“That… was crazy.” Hob pants, fixing his one good eye on Splinter. “I can see where Raph gets it from now.”

“Didn’t you raise him?” Splinter smirks.

Hob barks out a laugh at Splinter making light of what mere hours ago had been a source of tension between the two of them. He collapses onto his back as breath makes its way back into his lungs.

“Oy vey. Tell me something, Splints. Those kids of yours? Think they’re handling everything else okay?”

Splinter lets out an aggrieved sigh.

“Oh, I can hope, but Donatello did once cause the sewers to explode with a burst of fiery wrath I could only imagine a dragon capable of.”

“That was you guys?!” Hob perks up, sitting up, feet pressed together as he leans forward. “That was in the news for weeks. Nobody had a clue what happened. Whoa, whoa. How’d ya survive that?”

Splinter chuckles.

“A story for another time, perhaps. But for now, we should regroup with the others.”

Hob glances over where Slash stumbles in with a yawn, signing that he followed the trail of destruction.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

#

Leo arrives at the painting Chet told him about and is about to pry the thing open when his family and the Mutanimals converge on his location.

“Leo!” Mikey yells as he wraps Leonardo in a tight hug.

“Where did you go?” Donnie asks. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Gee, I wonder where I went,” Leo deadpans, gesturing vaguely around him.

“Not funny.”

“What happened to Raph?” Leo asks.

“Passed out after launching himself out the window,” Hob says.

“WHAT?!” Leo shouts.

“We’ll deal with that later. Why were you stabbing this painting?” Sally asks.

“And where did you get the sword?” Splinter asks. “It does not look like one of yours.”

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, I think there’s an elevator to a panic room behind it.”

“And you think that, because?” Pete asks, tilting his head.

“Got the information from one of the TCRI scientists.”

“And what did you have to do in order to get that information?” Ray asks.

“Not much.” Leo shrugs.

Leo stabs his sword into the crevice between painting and wall and pries it off the wall, revealing an elevator.

“What, no down button?” Leo asks in frustration as he slaps the doors, looking for a seam to get his sword into.

Donnie examines the edges of the painting and finds a four-digit fingerprint scanner hidden within the frame.

“Looks like it’s designed so only Stockman can open it,” Donnie says before turning to the others. “Anyone got a screwdriver?”

“What do you need a screwdriver for?” Leo asks.

Ray passes Donnie a screwdriver. No one bothers asking where he got that from as Donatello opens up the scanner’s insides and starts fiddling with the wires.

“For this. I think I can bypass the circuitry to trick the locking mechanism into thinking it’s being properly accessed without having to go through any extravagant process of copying Stockman’s prints in order to fake it. That would take too long.”

“Better idea: we get out of here pronto and deal with Stockman another time when we ain’t on his turf,” Hob says.

“You want to let him get away with kidnapping us?” Leo asks.

“No, but if we attack him on his property, one of his guards will just tell the cops that we broke in here and that we’re the ones in the wrong. Unless you want jailtime, I suggest we vamoose.”

“Hob is right, Leonardo,” Splinter says. “We should—”

“Got it!” Donnie says as the elevator doors slide open, though without the elevator box.

“See you in a bit!” Leo says before leaping down the elevator shaft, gripping the cables with his wrapped hands.

“Leo!” Mikey yells.

Splinter groans. “I am starting to think he is not as well-behaved as I previously thought.”

“Gee, what was your first clue?” Ray asks before he too jumps in the hole.

Sally leaps after him, followed by Mikey, Donnie, and Mondo. Hob sighs, shaking his head.

“Never let it be said our families are of sound mind.” Hob turns to Slash and Pete. “Get to the stairwell and go to ground. Get out and find the nearest subway tunnel. We’ll meet up shortly. If you don’t hear from us in an hour, go to the armory and come back guns blazing.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Pete says with a salute.

As Slash and Pete charge down the corridor with an unconscious Raphael in tow, Hob and Splinter leap into the dark elevator shaft, slowing their descent with a grip on the cables with the tips of their claws. Once they reach the bottom, Hob shakes out his paws, blowing on them to ease the friction burn.

“That don’t hurt?” the cat asks Splinter.

“It does.” Splinter shrugs. “I’ve just developed a decent pain tolerance over my earlier years as a ninja. And even more so as a father of four boys.”

“I got two and a half and it ain’t any better. Least when it comes to the headaches.”

“Two and a half?”

Hob shrugs. “Hard to classify Slash’s role in the family. I’m the dad. Ray and Sals are the aunt and uncle. Pete’s the weird cousin. Raph and Mondo are definitely the kids but with Slash it’s kinda hard because physically he’s an adult but mentally he’s a little kid and sometimes he acts so well-behaved you forget he’s basically an overgrown toddler. So, we kinda count him as half-kid-of-the-family, half-cousin.”

Splinter and Hob hop into the elevator box and enter the panic room.

“Where exactly did you—” Splinter begins to ask, his voice cut off by choking.

“FATHER!” Leo calls, rushing to his father’s side.

“Leon—” Splinter coughs.

“Stockman took some emergency escape pod out. Room’s filling with poison gas,” Leo explains.

“Why ain’t you—” Hob tries to ask, choking on the gas before he can finish.

“I don’t know. But we have to hurry. Mikey’s already down for the count. The gas is affecting him worse because of his lung problems.”

“Lung—” Hob asks.

“I think he has asthma, but it’s hard to get a diagnosis living in the sewers.”

Splinter shoots Leo a pointed look between gasps.

“Okay, okay. We can yell at me for keeping the outside world a secret later. Thoughts on getting out of here?”

“Just—” Hob wheezes, “—one.”

Hob grabs a device from the work desk in the room and places it against the wall where the escape pod was located. He pushes a button and yells for everyone to duck. The device explodes, breaking a hole in the wall. The hole lets some of the gas out, giving everyone a chance for breath as they rush into the abandoned subway tunnel.

“Mikey,” Donnie pants as he drags Michelangelo out of the gas-filled room. “Mikey! Wake up!”

Leo comes over and performs CPR on his little brother until the young turtle coughs, taking in some fresh air.

“Oh man, who farted?”

Leo sighs with a smile of relief. “Not funny, little brother. Not funny.”

“Remind me to get you an inhaler,” Ray says.

“What’s an inhaler?” Donnie asks.

“Something that dispenses medicine to help people with asthma breathe easier,” Leo answers.

“Mm-hm, mm-hm.” Donnie nods. “The same asthma you said you thought Mikey had? The same asthma that could’ve killed him?”

“What’s asthma?” Mikey asks as he gets to his feet.

“A lung condition that makes it harder to breathe, especially after exercising or when it’s dusty. Speaking of, you guys grew up in the sewers,” Sally says, turning to Leonardo. “Fear of humanity or not, how did you think keeping them in the dark about this stuff was safe for them? Mikey especially?”

“It’s never been a problem before,” Leo says. “Donnie invented an air purifying device that made it easier.”

“Easier, not perfect,” Donnie says. “An inhaler could’ve helped a lot more than you think!”

“Hey, I’m sorry okay!” Leo shouts. “I didn’t think it mattered as much compared to everything else that could’ve gone wrong!”

“BOYS!” Splinter yells.

The two turtles turn to him and cast their eyes downward. Donnie sighs, shaking his head.

“Let’s shelve this for later, okay. Where are we going?” Donatello asks.

Leo sighs. “I wish I could say my safehouse, but Stockman knows where it and our home are and both are probably in ruins right about now.”

“He don’t know where we live,” Hob says. “How’d ya like to move in with the Mutanimals?”

“Live with the first ever mutant superheroes? Awesome!” Mikey cheers.

“We’re not superheroes!” Sally says.

“Speak for yourself,” Mondo says.

Sally groans and rolls her eyes.

#

The group reconvenes with Pete, Slash, and Raphael—the latter of whom is finally awake and calmed down. They head to the ruins of the Bronx Zoo where the Mutant Revolution began. Making their way through the World of Reptiles they come across an elevator hidden behind a poster for the old exhibit. The elevator is large and old in style but new in build as it wasn’t made for the zoo. Everyone piles onto the elevator which creaks as they step on. Hob looks to Ray.

“I’ll adjust for the added weight,” the manta ray says.

The elevator descends into the Mutanimals’ home, opening up to a wide living space with a large semi-circle sofa with red cushions and white throw pillows set inside a conversation pit laid out before a massive custom-made entertainment center that has Donatello drooling.

On the other side of the room is an open kitchen with dark mahogany cabinets, white marble countertops, an eight-burner gas range, double ovens, and two side-by-side refrigerators—all stainless steel. The island is shaped like the letter I with the top line dropping down for the stovetop while the rest is a raised bar of sorts, acting as the dining space with seating enough for 13—three on either side of the middle, five along the bottom of the I and one on either end of the letter’s bottom line.

It is perhaps a strange array, but it works for this found family of mutants, especially as they’ve just added four more to their formerly seven-person household.

“This is nicer than I would’ve expected,” Splinter says as he and his sons take it all in.

“Ray’s good at DIY and Pete’s pretty good at keeping a clean house,” Hob says.

“I don’t do well with clutter,” Pete says. “Makes me dysfunctional.”

“Hey me too!” Mikey says. “It’s why Don and I clean our rooms together once a week. Makes it easier to actually get the cleaning done and keeps things organized enough that I don’t get all out of whack.”

“Speaking of rooms, where are—” Donnie starts to ask.

“We keep a lot of spare rooms in case of emergency. Back in the day we had mutant gophers, moles, and aardvarks dig out the entire underground of the zoo to function as a sort of bunker and base of operations during the Mutant Revolution. Used to house a lot of mutants here during the civil rights conflict so most of Mutant Town knows where we live but it’s a closely guarded secret in the community,” Sally says.

“Pretty much everyone outside of the family moved out though once they were legally allowed to rent and get jobs. So’s we got quite a few spare rooms on the north end. Just take your pick and we can get started on the home décor,” Hob says, pointing a thumb at the nearest corridor.

“I call first pick of the rooms!” Mikey shouts, racing for the hall.

“Hey! No fair!” Donnie chases after his younger brother.

“I didn’t even tell ya where everything else is.” Hob yells after the kids. “This place is bigger than you think! You can get lost and never find a bathroom!”

“We’ll go after them,” Ray says as he and the rest of the Mutanimals follow to give the turtle boys a tour.

Hob sighs and hangs his head.

“Oy vey. Teenagers.”

“Welcome to my life,” Splinter says. “Thank you… for letting us stay here.”

“Ah, no sweat. Us mutants gotta stick together, right?

Mutants simul, mutants in aeternum.

Mutants together, mutants forever. It’s Latin, kinda our motto.”

“It is a good motto.” Splinter nods before noticing Leo heading back to the elevator. “And where do you think you are going, young man?”

“Work. My boss is going to want to hear about this.”

“What boss?” Hob asks.

“I don’t know. I only learned he had a job last night. But apparently he’s been working for the past few years without my knowledge and he will not be leaving without my permission.”

“Okay, first, really not fond of you talking about me like I’m not here. Second, I’m eighteen so legally you have no authority over me. Third, my job is, respectfully, none of your business.”

“You working for a gang or something?” Hob asks.

“Why would you think I’m working for a gang?” Leo asks.

“’Cause no one woulda hired you few years back both because of the mutant thing and the being a kid thing unless it was sum’n criminal.”

“I’m not working for a gang.”

Leo presses the up button on the elevator, leaving the pair of mutants behind to head to the headquarters of the Foot Clan, which is only technically not a gang.

“I see the eldest has got some issues.”

“He and I have never quite seen eye to eye. He seems to think it’s his job to be the parent and not mine.”

“Eh, he’s a teenager. They tend to think they know better. It’s what happens when kids start seeing their generation as the next best step in societal evolution and seeing ours as outdated fossils who need to get with the times.”

Splinter tilts his head, looking at a Hob a certain way that confuses the old cat.

“What?”

“You are not what I expected you to be.”

Hob smiles. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

#

Arriving at Foot HQ, Leonardo enters the, for lack of a better term, throne room and kneels before the master. Oroku Saki, the Shredder is a tall Japanese man dressed in sharp armor with a bloodred cloak hanging off his shoulders, his helmet perched on the arm of his seat giving view of his face aesthetically handsome but emotionally cold and stern. Leo waits a moment with the Shredder’s piercing brown gaze set upon him. Then his master speaks.

“I have spoken with Karai. Her grandmother Kitsune shall deal with her. She will not trouble you again.” Karai’s screams echo throughout the building, the sound emanating from Kitsune’s inner sanctum.

Leonardo is under no illusions that her treachery will bring about her death. As the master’s blood relative, distant only by several generations, she is exempt from such a penalty that her actions would normally earn her. Leonardo does smile though as she endures whatever punishment Mistress Kitsune inflicts upon her.

“Karai told me your family have all been reunited.”

“Yes, Master Shredder,” Leo says. “My brother Raphael is with the rest of the Hamato family once again. However our home has been destroyed as has my safehouse in Mutant Town.”

“Where are you staying?”

“With the Mutanimals.” Leo raises his eyes to meet Saki’s. “They have taken us to their home and base of operations.”

The Shredder smiles.

“So, we now know where these enemies of ours live. Excellent. Unfortunate, though, that they play host to your family. It would be difficult to act against them without endangering the Hamato Clan. But no matter.” Shredder stands and places his helmet upon his head. “The Mutanimals have only ever been minor pests to the Foot and even then that was mostly in their efforts to thwart your attempts to bring Raphael back into the fold. I doubt they’ll give us much trouble moving forward, especially with you there to throw them off our scent.”

“Yes, Master Shredder.”

Shredder steps down from his throne, extending a tablet towards Leo. His loyal pupil rises and takes the device from his hands. The screen displays details about a man named Judge Herbert Grandon. He very recently passed judgement upon three Foot soldiers. Two were sentenced to life in prison whilst the third—whose file is linked to that of Judge Grandon—was given only twenty years at Pundam Penitentiary, a maximum security facility formerly used for imprisoning mutants during the early revolution days.

A lighter sentence in exchange for information.

Without words Leo understands what he is being assigned. Stop number one: Judge Grandon’s home. Stop number two: Pundam Penitentiary. He nods to his master, returning the tablet to him before leaving for his mission.

“Serve me well,” Shredder says, “my Chunin.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The Hamato family sleeps easily in the warmth and comfort of their new beds in the Mutanimals household. Their pleasant dreams are cut short at the abrupt sound of a wooden spoon banging against a metal pot. The turtles stumble out of their rooms, expecting trouble.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Leo asks, sword at the ready and more alert than his younger brothers.

“Oh good you’re awake,” Hob says, slinging the pot over his shoulder.

“You woke us!” Donnie says.

“Yeah, where’s the fire?” Mikey asks, wiping the crud from his eyes with a yawn.

“No fire, but you’re going to be late. Now come on. Get dressed, brush your teeth, and come eat breakfast.”

“Late for what?” Leo demands.

“School.”

“School? We’re going to school?” Mikey asks.

“Alright!” Donnie pumps his fist. “A chance to interact with fellow intellectuals and learn more about this grand beautiful world of ours that,” he shoots a glare at his older brother, “Leonardo decided to hide us away from for ten years.”

“Still? You’re still on that?” Leo asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know about intellectuals, but it’s definitely gonna do you some good,” Hob says.

“We’re not going,” Leo says.

“What?!” Mikey and Donatello say in unison.

“School is a waste of our time and more importantly, it’s dangerous.”

“You think everything is dangerous,” Mikey says.

“Because everything is dangerous or else has the potential to be.”

“What about food? Water?” Donnie asks.

“Both are necessary, but both can also be easily poisoned by any untrustworthy individual. Hob for example.”

“Yeesh, tell me how you really feel,” Hob says. “Anyway, my cooking ain’t that bad. It’s Pete’s ya gotta watch out for. Guy likes adding worms and birdseed to his meals. Yuck!”

“Please tell me he didn’t cook breakfast,” Donnie says.

“Nope. All me. We got bacon, eggs, pancakes, bagels and lox. You name it, we got it. Figured since you been so shell-tered all your life you probably hadn’t had a chance to try many of the more popular breakfast options.”

“Shell-tered? Really?” Leo asks.

Raph walks in behind Hob. “Yeah, Hob makes dad jokes once in a blue moon. You get used to ‘em.”

“Whatever, we’re burning daylight and you kids need to get ready. Let’s move it, people.”

Hob leaves them to return to the kitchen.

“What part of ‘we’re not going’ was unclear to him?” Leo asks.

“The part where he’s already discussed this with Splinter who agreed to it and the buddy system idea,” Raph answers.

“Buddy system?” Donnie asks.

“Yeah, since you guys are a bit behind on operating in society, the grown-ups thought it would be a good idea to set you each up with a class schedule that pairs you with a ‘buddy’, someone who can help you navigate school life. Mikey, you’re 14 so you’re in freshman classes with Mondo. Donnie, 15, you’ll be in sophomore classes with our human friend April O’Neil. Leo—”

“I’m 18. I don’t legally have to go to school.”

“Good thing Hob lied and said you were 17 on the records. Plus, he told the principal you could use some socializing. It’ll do you some good, Mr. Hostility.”

Leo’s eye twitches as he growls. “Fine. What classes am I in?”

“You’ll be in junior classes with me.”

Leo splutters. “Junior?! I’m old enough for senior level classes at the very least!”

“Yeah but we don’t know any seniors we trust to watch your back and having two years of schooling to get you used to people will do you a world of good. So, you’re with me.”

Leo growls.

“Hey, I don’t like it either. Way I see it, you’re a grade-A jerk with less respect for authority than I do. Which is saying a lot.”

“I respect authority.”

“Yeah, sure ya do. That’s why you told your dad that you had a night job and a safehouse and that the outside world was accepting of mutants—oh wait, ya didn’t. I at least, would’ve told ‘em about the mutants thing. The other two points I could maybe kinda sorta see a reasoning behind hiding that stuff, but hiding mutant civil rights from a mutant? That I neither understand nor respect. You fucked up big time, brother. Tell me something, do you have any level of respect for your dad at all?”

Leo’s lips form a tight line as he brushes past Raphael to head for the bathroom.

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s a no?”

“Because it is,” Mikey says.

“How can you say that? Of course, he respects Master Splinter,” Donnie says.

“Nah. You know how Leo never lies. He’ll either word things carefully to hide the truth in plain sight or he’ll avoid the question when the answer isn’t one he wants to admit to. Him not answering means he definitely doesn’t respect dad.”

“Okay, I know we’re all mad at Leo for keeping secrets but don’t you think you’re being just a little paranoid in that line of thinking?” Donnie asks.

“Nope,” Mikey says, popping the p.

Donnie sighs, rolling his eyes at his younger brother before pulling him by the back of the shell.

“Let’s go.”

#

At Foot HQ, Karai and Shredder spar together in the training hall, a vast empty space with thirty-foot ceilings and an obstacle course along one side of the room. Karai strikes at her many greats-grandfather only to be blocked. Her movements are sluggish, and she is already winded despite their session having only started three minutes ago.

“

You are getting sloppy granddaughter

,” Shredder says in Japanese before disarming her blade and knocking her down with a spin kick.

As she sits upright, he points his sword at her in disapproval of her technique. She glares up at him with barely restrained fury.

“

I wouldn’t be so sloppy if you hadn’t had grandmother torture me with her dark magic

.”

“

It would not have been necessary had you known your place

.”

“

My place should be at your right hand! I am your flesh and blood! Leonardo is—

”

“

Leonardo is my top student and far more formidable a warrior than you. You may be my blood and you may be of the blood of demigods and dragons but know that that does not entitle you to a higher rank. Superiority is earned not given.

”

“

Leo was given it. He’s only your best student because he’s had centuries of training under you in the realm of demons between this life and his last. Training he wouldn’t have had if not for his black magic deal with grandmother.

”

“

A deal that he offered to her.

”

“

She didn’t have to accept. Can you honestly tell me that you enjoy knowing your old foe Hamato Yoshi still lives and breathes alongside his offspring and not being able to do anything about it because your wife made a deal with his eldest son mere days after your death?

”

“

I may not like Yoshi’s continued existence but having his son as my Chunin does provide some sense of vengeance for his repeated efforts to thwart my conquest of Asia and his killing of me in our last battle.

”

“

So you give Leonardo Chunin status because of some sort of arroga—

”

Karai’s words are brought to a screeching halt as the Shredder punches upward to extend the blades in his gauntlets, the blade only a hair’s breadth away from the underside of her jaw.

“

Leonardo is not Chunin because I enjoy this victory over Yoshi.

” Shredder steps forward, forcing Karai to walk in reverse until her back is pressed against the wall as he stares down at her as cold and unyielding as his bladed gauntlets. “

He is Chunin because he is better than you. Your blood may not entitle you to a superior rank. But it is the only thing entitling you to continue to breathe after betraying my second-in-command so egregiously. Understand?

”

“

Yes,

” Karai says, voice almost as shaky as the hands trembling at her side, “

Grandfather.

”

Shredder turns, sheathing his blades as he leaves. Once the door slams shut behind her, Karai takes in a shuddering breath, now that her lungs are no longer too scared to function.

“Karai,” Kitsune says to her left.

Karai screams, clutching her chest.

“Don’t do that! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Kitsune turns her head to her, the mask concealing her face in that creepy way that has always reminded Karai of the porcelain dolls her mother would collect during her childhood. Their eyes followed her everywhere.

“You presume too much to think that you can give me orders, child.”

“Apologies,” Karai bows. “Grandmother. Did you need something?”

“I need you to steal something for me.” Kitsune pulls a rolled up newspaper from her robe’s sleeve, handing it to Karai.

“The Sword of Tengu?” Karai says as she reads the headline of the Natural History Museum’s latest acquisition. “I thought it was destroyed ages ago.”

“As did I. Though it would seem to be a false assumption. The blade is a masterful weapon, capable of decimating entire towns with a single blow when wielded by a master swordsman.”

“So you want me to steal it so the Foot can grow more powerful.”

“That would be a delightful bonus, yes. But that is not the reason I want it. You see, I have only laid eyes upon it once and though I sensed no mystic energy radiating from it, its power is undeniable. No one knows where it came from. Legend says it first belonged to the Oni King, a monster with a face and tentacles in its stomach and strength like a machine. I do not know how true such rumors are but I believe that if I can get my hands on that sword I can determine its true origin and possibly acquire even greater weapons from whence it came.”

Karai smiles. “That would be wonderful.”

“Wonderful enough even to return you to your grandfather’s good graces perhaps.”

Karai’s face falls into a more determined expression.

“I will not fail, Grandmother.”

“See to it that you do not, child. I will be waiting in my study for your return.”

#

After being dropped off by Hob and Splinter in the Mutanimals’ van, the turtles and Mondo enter the halls of Kevin Laird High School. Leonardo is dressed in simple blue jeans and a baggy blue hoodie. Raphael wears black jeans and red tank top with jagged cut-off sleeves. Donatello adorns khakis and a purple dress shirt, having wanted to make a good first impression and not understanding how to do so. Michelangelo’s clothes consist of an orange graphic tee and sweatpants.

As they walk through the corridor, Mikey and Donnie’s heads swivel all around, taking in the sights. The lockers with peeling green paint. The fluorescent lighting. The tiled floors. The kids spraying each other with the water fountain wearing pants so low around their thighs that Donnie questions how they can defy gravity like that.

“WELCOME!” a black girl with twin puff buns and a glasses yells, jumping in front of the mutant group.

Donnie and Mikey scream in surprise while Leo pins the girl to the locker walls.

“Hey, hey! She’s cool,” Raph says, pulling Leo back. “Hey, April.”

“I’m guessing this is Leonardo. You were right. He is hostile.”

“Guys, this is April O’Neil. April, this is Donnie and Mikey.”

“Hey,” Donnie says with a wave.

“’Sup?” Mikey says.

“And of course you already met Mr. Personality over here.” Raph nods to Leo.

“If she didn’t want me tackling her, she shouldn’t have scared our brothers.”

“Wouldn’t have startled them if they were watching where they were going. Nice to meet you guys.” April appraises Leo. “Well, some of you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Donnie says.

“New friend! Selfie time!” Mikey wraps his arm around April to take their photo.

April puts up a peace sign just in time for the camera flash.

“Man, I am loving have a phone. Did you know you can watch videos of cute fuzzy wuzzy kitties on here?” Mikey asks.

“Don’t let Hob or Sally know you’re watching cat videos,” Mondo suggests. “They find it a bit offensive.”

“They’re just jealous because neither of them are as cute as the cats on the internet.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You guys got your class schedules. Donnie’ll follow April to first period. I believe you guys have chemistry.”

“Science! Alright!” Donnie pumps his fist.

“Mikey, you’ll be with Mondo in first period history class.”

Mondo leans over to Mikey to whisper, “More like hi-snore-y class.”

He then imitates snoring.

“Aw, come on. How bad can history possibly be?” Mikey asks.

“Leo, you and I have English class. Want any advice on—I don’t know—not assaulting the teacher?”

“Thanks, but I can handle myself. I’ll just keep my head down and try not to get called on.”

The three pairs split up. Mikey skips down the hall alongside Mondo Gecko, eyes flitting all about.

“This is so cool! I can’t wait to make some new friends.” Mikey spots a guy with big burly arms leaning against his locker talking to a lanky kid with severe acne. “Hey, wanna be friends?”

“Mikey!” Mondo yelps.

“Sure, friend. Care to help me get my textbook from my locker, friend?” the big guy asks.

“Mikey don’t—” Mondo says too late as Mikey gets shoved inside the locker when he leans forward.

“Hey! That’s not very friendly!” Mikey calls from inside the locker.

“Dork,” the big guy says.

“Loser,” the other jerk says as they walk off.

Once gone, Mondo picks the lock and lets Mikey out.

“Tried to warn you. Josh and Kevin. They’re the school bullies. School’s great and all, don’t get me wrong, but not everyone’s going to be as friendly as me, Raph, or April.”

“Eh, no worries. I’ll still have the best day ever,” Mikey shouts with glee.

In first period history, Mikey takes his seat at the front of the room, feet tapping mercilessly on the ground and hands drumming along the surface of his desk. Josh, the jerk from earlier takes some sort of offense to this and that is when Mikey learns what a spitwad is.

“Hey!” Mikey shouts.

“Mr. Hamato, no shouting in class. Furthermore, I’ll need to make a note in your SGC. Mr. Frankton, you have another detention, and I will be sending your parents an email about this continued malicious behavior,” Mr. Jeffries, a teacher with a big nose and even bigger gut calls out.

“Uh what’s an SGC?” Mikey asks.

“Student Guidance Card,” Kevin calls from the back row. “It means you’re in trouble!”

“Mr. Hoskins, do I need to send your parents an email as well, or may I resume today’s lesson?”

History class ends and Mondo stops at the teacher’s desk, pulling Mikey back as well.

“What’s wrong?” Mikey asks.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Gecko?” Mr. Jeffries asks without looking up, adding in muttered breath, “Still can’t believe that’s your legal name.”

“Yeah, you can help me, Mr. Jeffries.” Mondo slams his hands onto the edge of the teacher’s desk. “School policy strictly prohibits any and all teachers from commenting on any SGC notes in front of the student body. Any mentions of such recordings are to be discussed in private with the affected student so as to prevent potential ostracization of said student by their peers for any perceived societal abnormalities.”

Mr. Jeffries looks up at him over his glasses. “Did you memorize the school’s guidelines or something?”

“The fact you have to ask means you as the teacher have failed in your job by

not

memorizing the rules you yourself are supposed to abide by.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t you have another class to get to?” Mr. Jeffries waves them off.

Mondo stomps out of the classroom in a huff, Mikey slinking out behind him.

“Can’t believe that—URGH! Actually, yes I can. Mr. Jeffries is the worst. I don’t know if he just hates mutants or if he’s extremely lazy and hates that Raph and I are the ones reporting his bad behavior to the principal most. You know none of the non-mutant kids in school have to put up with this bullshit?” Mondo notices Mikey lagging behind, the turtle’s shoulders hunched over. “Mikey?”

“Societal abnormality. Are you saying I’m abnormal?”

Mondo steps over to Michelangelo, gripping his arms to comfort him.

“No, of course not. The SGC, that’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a digital tool the staff uses to catch any sort of mental thing early or figure out if a student is being abused by their parent or guardian. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. But because those notes are sent directly to the school’s guidance counselor, students tend to think any marks in it means you’re trouble. But you’re not. You’re not in trouble, nor are you trouble yourself. Promise. Fist bump?”

“Uh, what?”

“Fist bump. It’s a thing friends do.”

Mikey smiles at the news that Mondo considers them friends and raises his fist.

“Fist bump,” Mikey says as they connect.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think so. What’s next? And please tell me those jerks aren’t in the next one.”

“Nah, next up is art.”

“I love art!” Mikey pumps his fists in the air before turning back to Mondo. “Hey, uh, how will I know if I get another note in my SGC thing?”

“You downloaded the school’s app like I showed you, right?”

“Yeah?” Mikey pulls out his phone.

“Open it up and click on the tab labeled Tools. One of those should say SGC. It’ll update at the end of every class and show you exactly what the teachers are saying about you. Total transparency. Only ones besides the teachers with access to your SGC are you and your legal guardians.”

Mikey opens his mouth to ask a question but Mondo beats him to it.

“Your legal guardians are the people responsible for raising you. Your dad’s one because obviously. And Hob’s listed as the other because Splinter isn’t as well-versed in how the school works or what rights you guys have as students/guardians. So he’ll be able to help you both if any issues arise.”

“Issues like an SGC write-up?”

“

No

. Issues like bullying or poor grades. Things to help you. The SGC is to help you too. You need to stop looking at it as a bad thing.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

Mikey smiles weakly at the gecko boy, unable to stop thinking about how Mondo’s rant to Mr. Jeffries seemed to imply that an SGC write-up marks him as an outcast amongst the student body and how Josh and Kevin already seemed determined to single him out.

The next two classes seem to go fine until Mikey checks his SGC in the passing period between each and notices both teachers made notes in it. He follows Mondo into the school cafeteria and takes his seat at a long table with his brothers and April.

“So, how’d everyone’s day go?” Mikey asks.

“Fine,” Leo says.

Raph coughs, saying, “Boring,” before adding a second cough after.

Leo sends him a pointed look then rolls his eyes.

“April and I had a great time in chemistry,” Donnie says.

“Yeah, Don the Neuron,” April playfully jabs Donnie with her elbow, “here came up with a new formula for glow-in-the-dark slime instead of the normal slime we were supposed to make. The teacher had to check one of his more advanced textbooks to see if the formula was safe before letting the class actually make it.”

“And he let us keep some samples of it!” Donnie says, holding up a baggy of a clear-looking slime before placing it on the lunch table and cupping his hands over it to show how it glows green in reduced lighting.

“Cool, almost looks like mutagen,” Mondo says.

“How’d your guys’ day go?” Leo asks.

“Fine, except for Jeffries being a jerk to Mikey.”

Mikey slaps him in the arm for telling them that.

“Who’s Jeffries?” Leo asks, eyes narrowed.

“World history teacher and winner of everyone’s least favorite teacher five years running,” Raph explains.

“You’ve only been in high school two and a half years now,” April points out.

“My description still stands. Guy’s a creep and an anti-mutant bigot if I ever met one.”

“Sounds like I have to do something about this guy,” Leo says.

“Like what? Beat him up? You can’t just threaten teachers, Leo.” Raph adds in muttered breath, “Even if they do deserve it.”

“Look, it’s fine. So my teachers like to write disciplinary stuff in my SGC or whatever. It’s no big deal. Like Mondo said, right? No big deal?” Mikey chuckles nervously, looking at the gecko sitting next to him.

“It’s not a discipline thing, dude. I already told you.”

“Good, because the only one allowed to discipline my family is me,” Leo says.

“And dad,” Donnie adds.

Leo rolls his eyes. Donatello leans over to Leo, glaring at him.

“And dad, right, Leonardo?”

“He’s certainly allowed, not that he ever really does it or is even any good at it when he does.”

“Kinda sounds like you’re saying Splinter is a bad dad,” Raph says.

“Yeah. You got daddy issues or something?” April asks, pointing her fork at him.

A heavy pause hangs in the air, Leo biting the inside of his cheek.

“Let’s change the subject shall we? Like, maybe how the second period English teacher Mrs. Chang needs to invest in some heavy-duty deodorant for her insane body odor.”

“Is it really that bad? Because she only teaches the juniors and if she does reek, I am not looking forward to next year,” April says.

“Oh, it’s that bad. Think rotted milk, a clogged toilet, and sweaty socks all rolled into one,” Raph answers.

Donnie gags on his lunch. “I’m eating here. Okay, I grew up in a sewer, I’m pretty good at imagining—” Donnie gags again, “imagining horrid smells.”

“Don’t you dare puke or you’ll make me puke and I barely liked this food once, I don’t wanna taste it again.” April represses her gag reflex along with Donnie.

Meanwhile, Mikey stares dejectedly at his barely touched lunch tray, pushing the much-too-soft spaghetti and extra slimy marinara sauce around with a deep frown on his face, vowing to do better in his next class.

#

Back at the Mutanimals’ home, Splinter and the other mutants are eating lunch at the I-shaped kitchen island. When worms pop out of Pete’s oatmeal, Ray pulls his own meal away from the pigeon-man.

“I wonder how the boys are doing on their first day at school,” Splinter says.

“Can’t be doing any worse than Raph and Mondo did on their first day,” Sally says.

“Yeah, Raphie was so used to people being jerks to mutants at that point he got into a fist fight with someone before first period.” Hob shrugs. “Still proud he won that fight though.”

Splinter grunts.

“Oh you remember how they came home from school the next day and Raph and Mondo were fighting over whether or not the school lunches were good or not?” Ray asks.

“Yeah, Raphie only thought it was good because food options for us before the revolution were so bad it made school lunches seem like peak cuisine by comparison.”

Splinter stabs his fork into his salad with a growl.

“Something wrong, Splints?” Hob asks.

“No, why would something be wrong? It is not like I missed out on my son’s entire childhood because he was being raised on the streets by you. Oh wait.”

“First off, being on the streets wasn’t my preference either but ya make do with what ya got. Second, you raised your other kids in the freaking sewers, so you got no room to judge there. And third of all, I thought we were past the whole ‘I raised Raphie instead of you’ thing.”

Splinter gets up, leaning across the counter.

“How can I possibly be past it when you keep reminding me of how much closer you are to my son than I, by constantly referring to him by that nickname

you

gave him?”

“Would you rather I call him Red instead? Because that’s what he went by until we learned what his real name was. And he didn’t even wanna be called that at first because Stockman was the first person he remembered calling him that! The only reason he’s come to embrace it as his own is because he learned that the guy who gave him the name—April’s dad—was trying to help him and the rest of youse get away from TCRI! I ONLY CALL HIM RAPHIE BECAUSE IT MAKES HIM MORE COMFORTABLE!”

“THAT IS NOT THE PROBLEM HERE!”

Sally roars—literally, roars—to get their attention.

“Enough! Both of you! You are sapient, civilized mutants, and I’d appreciate it if you two could act like it instead of hollering at each other like wild animals fighting for dominance.” Sally runs her hands through her mane, taking a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You two are going to go on a shopping spree. I don’t care where, and I don’t care much what you buy as long as the prices are reasonable. You two will shop for things the kids may need, whether that be clothes, personal items, comic books, whatever, until you two can come to a civil understanding regarding who raised who and why, and you can accept the fact that some relationships just are what they are and can be strengthened by all of us getting along rather than fighting each other. Okay?”

“Fine,” Splinter says.

“Sure thing, Sal,” Hob adds.

“Uh, are you sure this is a good idea?” Ray asks. “Because if they start fighting out in public it could attract some much unwanted attention.”

“Oh, I’m aware, but I’m hoping both of them are intelligent enough to behave better in public spaces than they do at home.”

“At least if the fight turns physical they won’t run the risk of breaking any of our belongings,” Pete says.

“That too.”

“We are sitting right here,” Hob says.

“We know,” the other Mutanimals say in unison.

#

Back at East Laird, Mikey and Mondo enter the physics classroom with Michelangelo determined to do a good job this time around. The teacher, Ms. Carr, begins her lecture on Newton’s Laws of Motion.

“The first law, you will find, is that an object will not change its motion unless a force acts upon it,” the teacher explains. “What this means, essentially is that in a vacuum wherein there is no air resistance, wind resistance, friction, etcetera—”

Mikey pays attention as well as he can but sitting still, he finds it harder and harder to follow along with the lesson. So he does what he normally does to center his mind in the here and now and busies his hands with something mindless such as tapping on his desk so his attention is better grounded in the classroom. It’s not as effective as drawing but he already got in trouble for that in the last class so he wasn’t about to repeat that mistake.

He keeps his focus on the teacher long enough to actually retain some of the lesson and he thinks that the laws of motion would probably be useful to Donnie when working on his recent vehicle designs. His older brother had taken their newfound world as a new opportunity for invention and with Ray’s lab and resources at his disposal, he’d been busying himself with specs for new armored vehicles and flying motorcycles. He’s hoping to test-ride that last one. He usually does but with their new extended family he figures Donnie would probably ask someone else to test his latest designs just to get some variety in crash-test dummies.

“Mr. Hamato?” Ms. Carr asks.

“Uh, yes?”

He did say tapping only sometimes works, right?

“I was wondering if you could tap a little quieter? I have nothing against stimming but the drumbeat you’re producing is a tad loud and drawing the class’s attention away from the lesson.”

Mikey looks around, noting for the first time how many eyes were on him. So many eyes. Were they judging him like the teacher was? Was he getting written up again?

“Sorry, Ms. Carr,” Mikey says, slumping down in his seat.

Ms. Carr continues her lesson and as the students works on an in-class worksheet, she types something into her computer. Almost immediately after, the classroom phones rings. Ms. Carr answers and waves Mikey over.

“Did I do something wrong again?” Mikey asks.

“No, but that was the guidance counselor, Mr. Eastman. He’d like to have a word with you in his office. Do you need directions? I know you’re new.”

“No, no. I’ll find my way there. No problem. Thanks,” Mikey says with a forced smile.

He doesn’t look back but he feels the eyes of every one of his classmates on his back as he exits the classroom, despite the reality that everyone’s eyes are focused on their own worksheets. The only one even glancing his way is Mondo, who shrugs it off that Mikey is being sent to the front offices and returns to his work, unaware of the panic forming in Mikey’s gut.

He walks into the guidance counselor’s office, convinced he’s being expelled before his first day has even concluded. Inside he’s met with an older black man with freckles and a round, friendly face.

“Please, have a seat, Michelangelo.” Mr. Eastman gestures to the chair across from his desk.

“Am I in trouble?” Mikey asks as he drops down in the chair, shoulders and head drooping with anxiety.

“No, no. Of course not. I merely called you in here because I noticed some of the reports from your teachers on your Student Guidance Card suggested a condition that must be addressed, especially given you most likely haven’t had this brought up before due to your sheltered upbringing.”

“Condition?”

“Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. ADHD for short. A mental disorder that affects roughly 4-12% of kids. Based on these notes I believe it would be worthwhile for your family to seek out a professional evaluation for yourself regarding the condition.”

“Why?” Mikey asks as his mind lingers on the words ‘deficit’ and ‘disorder’.

“Because left untreated, ADHD tends to cause problems with how young people carry themselves in life. It can lead to poor grades, struggles in the workplace and in society in general.”

So Mikey’s going to fail, never hold a job for long, and be an outcast forever. At least, that’s how Michelangelo interprets it.

“But this doesn’t have to be the case for you,” Mr. Eastman continues. “ADHD is manageable, especially when detected and treated early. It would’ve been better to have caught this when you were younger but it’s never too late.”

It’s too late.

“I’ve already made a note in your SGC for your guardians to review, but I would recommend bringing this up to them when you go home later today. Most parents don’t expect notes on the first day, but I tend to find the first day the most important for getting a feel for how the students handle themselves in our environment.”

Poorly apparently.

“ADHD is nothing to be ashamed of.”

People are usually ashamed of it.

“It’s just a mental health condition that affects the way your mind works.”

So, Mikey is mentally unhealthy and his brain is broken.

“Do you understand, son?” Mr. Eastman asks with waiting eyes.

Mikey nods with a forced smile. “Yeah, I—I think so.”

Mr. Eastman reaches to a filing system hanging on his wall and pulls a flier from it.

“Take this pamphlet,” he hands it to Michelangelo. “It goes over the condition more and provides links to some valuable resources that discuss the condition in greater detail.”

“Thank you, Mr. Eastman.”

“You’re welcome. Now, run along to class. Sixth period is about to start I believe.”

Mikey nods and walks out of the guidance counselor’s office before sprinting down the hall and locking himself in a bathroom stall. He curls up atop a toilet seat, crushing the pamphlet in his hand as he sobs.

Deficit. Disorder. Mentally unhealthy. Brain doesn’t work right.

Mikey knew he could be a bit much sometimes but he never imagined that there was something legitimately wrong with him before. His family never judged him for his behavior. At least, Donnie didn’t. He often liked how rambunctious Mikey could be because it meant he was always a good test subject for his latest inventions.

He supposes that Splinter probably found him to be a bit of a problem. He couldn’t sit quietly and meditate like he and Leo could, finding his mind too wandering for the exercise. Splinter tended to like a more peaceful environment which Mikey wasn’t good at achieving with how… how…

hyperactive

he was.

Attention Deficit

Hyperactivity

Disorder.

Was this flaw really so obvious?

Leo had more real-world experience. Maybe he’d heard of this like he heard of Mikey’s asthma. Did he know Mikey was broken and wrong? Did he judge him for it? Leo was a bit more distant with all of them but was he even more distant with Mikey because of this disorder?

Maybe not. Maybe he hadn’t heard of this. After all, Mr. Eastman did say that only 4-12% of people even had the disorder. That’s a pretty low percentage, right?

Granted, that meant Mikey was even more of an outlier, an outcast than he was already thinking, but at least that meant that Leo and perhaps even the Mutanimals hadn’t heard of it, right? He could just… not tell anyone what they talked about. Except, it was on his SGC. Master Splinter and Old Hob both could see what the guidance counselor wrote on there. They’d know for sure. But Mr. Eastman did say that parents usually don’t check the SGC notes on the first day. Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d never check it. Right?

#

Riding down an escalator in the mall, Hob slurps loudly on a blue raspberry Icee that stains the fur around his mouth blue. Splinter rolls his eyes at him, carrying his share of the shopping bags.

“What’s your problem with me anyway, rat? All’s I did was take care of Raphie these past ten years.”

“That is exactly my problem,” Splinter says. “He was not yours to raise. He is

my

son. I should’ve been the one taking care of him. He should’ve been at home with his brothers, his family.”

“Well, that wa’n’t gonna happen. You got flushed down a storm drain and got separated. Raphael would’ve died without me there to take care of him. Would you really have rather he’d been fighting for his life on the mean streets of New York alone?”

“I’d have rather he’d found his way home.”

“Hey, I tried looking for you. Ain’t my fault you were hiding out in the sewers all these years.” Hob shrugs as they exit the mall. “Might be Leo’s fault, though.”

“Leonardo is not to blame for his brother’s absence from our lives!” Splinter shouts at him in the parking lot.

“Yeah, well neither am I, Splints! Just because you’re mad that you missed out on his childhood, don’t give you the right to take it out on—"

A scream interrupts their argument. Their eyes dart across the street at the museum where Karai flees down the steps, carrying a wrapped bundle—a sword. The hilt sticks out from the cloth, a blueish silver metal with gold coiling around it coming to form an octopus-like shape at the end.

“The Sword of Tengu?” Splinter murmurs in surprise.

“The sword of what?” Hob asks.

“Come on!”

Splinter takes off after Karai as Hob follows closely behind him. Karai scales a building via the fire escape and the pair of mutants keep on her trail.

“Mind telling me what’s so special about this sword that you got us chasing a Foot ninja?” Hob asks as they leap across a gap between two buildings.

“The Sword of Tengu is an ancient mystic weapon.” Splinter grunts as his knees buckle upon landing, though he forces himself to continue the hunt. “It can demolish buildings with less than a single blow. It cannot be allowed to fall into the Foot’s hands.”

Splinter manages to cut off Karai, him and Hob boxing her in from either side.

“Less than a single blow? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Hob asks.

“Watch,” Karai says, slicing the air in a circle around her with the famed sword, sending a shockwave that knocks the two mutants away as she leaps down from the rooftops to the alleyway below.

“Oh,” Hob says, getting back to his feet, “now I get it.”

“We mustn’t lose her!” Splinter calls back to him.

They continue their pursuit and manage to tackle her to the ground before she can duck down the subway steps. The Sword of Tengu falls from her hands as police sirens sound from down the block. Karai kicks Splinter away as Hob gets the sword into his hands. Karai’s eyes shift from the cat to the cop cars charging in and she drops a smoke bomb to escape.

“Where’d she go?” Hob coughs.

“I don’t—” Splinter says just as they are surrounded by cops pointing their guns at them.

“Drop the sword, and put your hands above your head!” Officer one shouts.

“—know.”

“Officers, officers, this is all a big misunder—” Hob says with a placating grin, hands raised above his head.

“I SAID GET DOWN!” Officer one screams.

“Technically he did not,” Splinter mutters to Hob as they both kneel on the ground as the other cops cuff their hands behind their backs, slamming their faces into the ground. “This seems a tad uncalled for.”

“Boy you’re sheltered if ya think this is extreme,” Hob says into the pavement.

From a nearby rooftop, Karai watches the rat and cat get arrested for her crime, annoyed they thwarted her initial attempt at stealing the sword as her grandmother requested. Though neither they nor the police will stop her from taking the sword back from their precinct.

#

Tapping her boot against the ground as the clock ticks ever closer to 3 o’clock, Sally growls with irritation.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

“Maybe they killed each other while they were out?” Pete suggests, munching on birdseed in the living room.

“Nah, we’d have heard something about mutant on mutant violence today,” Ray says before his phone rings. “Ray Mann speaking… Hey, Hob… You’re where? … Oh, great… Yeah, we’ll be right over after we pick up the kids… Over and out.”

“Where are they?” Sally asks.

“At the police station. Apparently, they got arrested while trying to stop some Foot ninja from stealing some magic sword from a museum.”

“Magic sword? That exists?” Pete asks.

“I guess. Stranger things have happened.” Ray gets up and walks over to Sally. “We’ll go do pickup. You meet us at the Central Park Precinct.”

“Should I bring Slash with me?” Pete points over at Slash who is quietly reading in the corner.

“No. You know how cops are. They see a big hulking mutant they’ll think he’s dangerous and shoot without warning. No offense, Slash.”

Slash signs,

None taken,

then returns to his book on World War I codebreakers.

“Come on, let’s go get the kids. We’re already running late,” Sally says.

She and Ray load up in their multi-purpose vehicle and take off down the street before hitting the skies as she activates the flight mechanism. Only way to beat rush hour in New York. They make it to East Laird High in no time and land in the school’s parking lot before their least favorite PTA Karen can cut them off. The kids locate their vehicle and hop inside.

“Where’s father?” Leo asks. “I’d have thought he’d want to pick us up.”

“He and Hob got themselves arrested trying to stop a magic sword heist,” Sally says from the driver’s seat.

“There’s no such thing as a magic sword,” Donatello says.

“Yeah well, try telling that to Hob. Guy says that sword dealt them a pretty good blow without even touching ‘em,” Ray says. “We’re meeting Pete at the Central Park Precinct to bail ‘em out.”

“What sword was it anyway?” Leo asks.

“Didn’t say. Just said whoever the ninja lady was tried stealing it from the Natural History Museum,” Ray answers.

“So,” Sally says, “how was your day?”

“Fine,” Mikey mutters.

“It was great!” Donnie exclaims. “I learned so much about—”

As Donnie rambles on and on about today’s lessons, Leo discreetly sends a text to Kitsune asking if she knows anything about a magic sword theft by a ninja girl. He figures it was probably Karai and she was sent on an errand by her many greats grandmother but clarification is always nice, especially if it means keeping his family out of trouble whilst simultaneously serving the Foot properly.

#

At the police station, Karai sneaks in through a window and catches a lady cop coming round the corner. She jabs them with a poison-filled syringe and holds them still and silent until they expire. She pulls them into a supply closet and strips them of their uniform, donning the garb herself as she leaves the cop’s body behind in the closet.

She makes her way toward the evidence room, passing by the lobby where Leonardo and the rest of his household have entered to inquire about the cat and Splinter. Leo spots her and she holds up a finger in silence then gives the Foot sign of distraction. He nods and proceeds to slam his fist down on the front desk.

“How dare you?!” Leo yells as Karai slips away.

“Leo!” Donnie whispers.

“How dare you arrest my father on a crime he didn’t even commit! My father has never broken a law in his life and you dare arrest him because of what? Anti-mutant prejudice? Get my father and the annoying cat out of those cells before I call up every civil rights attorney I can name and tie you up with so much litigation it’ll make your heads spin.”

“Dude, calm down,” Raph says, pulling him back. “You are not helping.”

“Listen, young man, we don’t arrest people for nothing,” the cop at the desk says.

“Lies! You people promise to protect and serve but you break that promise every time. And I know broken promises. People like you are the worst.”

“Sir, if you don’t calm down we’re going to have to place you under arrest for disorderly conduct,” a lady cop says, hand near her taser.

“I’d like to see you try,” Leo says.

“He doesn’t mean that!” Donnie says.

“Course I do. You know I never lie.”

“Shut up!” Donnie hisses at him.

“Hey, uh,” Sally says, “where’d Mikey go?”

“Mikey?” Leo asks, looking around for his little brother before facepalming. “Ugh. I swear if he’s doing something stupid right now—”

#

Mikey is not doing something stupid right now. On the contrary when Leo started making a scene, Michelangelo figured his brother was up to something. He’d spotted a policewoman wink in their direction, though whether it was actually directed at Leo or just a general wink he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of is that the policewoman wore the badge of a different lady cop who Mikey knew wasn’t this woman.

Something isn’t right so he follows the imposter down to the evidence room where the cop rummages through the evidence like she doesn’t where or what she’s looking for. Definitely not a cop.

Mikey’s eyes flit over to the magic sword Ray mentioned earlier, hiding under a tarp in the far corner. Given the timing, he assumes that’s what she’s after and darts over to it, grabbing it before she can spot the weapon.

“What the—”

“So, this is the magic sword, huh?” Mikey says, running a finger along the blade. “Not impressed.”

“Give me the Sword of Tengu now or I will take your life.”

“But if I give you the sword of whatever it’ll only be that much easier to kill me. Kinda counterintuitive if you ask me.”

The lady growls and lunges at him, trying to reach for the sword. He dodges and runs out of the room, back to the lobby. The cops pull their guns on him.

“MIKEY!” Leo screams, tackling him to the ground before anyone can shoot, which they do.

Karai rounds the corner and ducks back around to avoid the bullets.

“Sorry, officer!” one cop yells as they all ceasefire.

“That’s not a cop!” Mikey shouts, shoving Leo off of him. “She’s wearing the wrong badge! Officer McKellon’s. I know because she wrote us a ticket barely a week ago and that lady is not Officer McKellon.”

“What?” Officer one asks.

“Ma’am, can you please come around and hold out your badge?” Lady cop asks.

“Alright,” Karai says with a smirk, pulling out a series of shuriken and flinging them with frightening precision at the throats of the three cops across the room.

The cop behind the desk reaches for the radio but Karai grabs him, pinning her blade against his throat before he can call for backup.

“Call for help and it’ll be the last sound you utter,” Karai warns.

“Who the heck are you?” Donnie asks.

“I am Oroku Karai, many greats-granddaughter of Oroku Saki, the Shredder of Feudal Japan.”

“Ooh, the Shredder,” Raph says with feigned intimidation. “Unimpressed, princess. What’s next, the Cheese Grater?”

“Raphael,” Sally says, “please stop insulting the ninja while she’s holding a hostage.”

“But it’s a cop! Tell me why we’re worried?” Raph says.

“Raph,” Ray and Sally say in unison, glaring at him.

“Fine,” Raph rolls his eyes then waves. “Oh, hey, Pete.”

“Like I’d fall for—” Karai starts before noticing a series of quick gestures Leo makes subtly with his hands.

She’s not the only one who notices.

Before Mikey can question these movements from his older brother, Karai shoves the cop to the ground and swings her sword behind her, narrowly missing the pigeon’s head. Pete leaps forward, not to tackle Karai but to reach the former hostage and pull him to safety.

“Let’s go!” Pete yells.

“How did he get behind me?” Karai growls.

Another series of subtle signs from Leo has Karai diving away from a near-whack to the skull by Splinter’s walking staff.

“I just posted bail,” Pete says before turning to Sally. “You guys are really slow by the way.”

“You guys are really slow by the way,” Ray repeats in mocking tone. “You try flying with one turtle hounding you for a turn at the wheel and another begging for the specs.”

“Who was flying?” Sally asks.

“Focus! Not the time,” Hob barks which is ironic for a cat. “Give it up ninja lady—”

“Kunoichi,” Splinter corrects.

“Kunoichi, whatever. You’re surrounded and outnumbered. You ain’t getting that sword, period. And you ain’t getting away neither. So, do that thing that cops always say and put yer hands behind your head and get down on the ground.”

“What the freak said,” Desk cop says as he gets ahold of a gun, aiming it at Karai even as Hob glowers at him.

Karai shoots Leonardo a spare glance. This too Mikey observes, his eyes flitting between her and his brother with suspicion.

“You think this is over? The Sword of Tengu will belong to the Foot!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Leo snatches the mystic sword away from Mikey before he can react.

Leo uses the sword’s power to strike out at Karai. She dodges and the shockwave blasts a hole in the wall, granting Karai an exit. Karai whips out a grappling gun from behind her and uses it to steal the sword away from him before slicing out at everyone to knock them and the cop’s solitary bullet away. She makes her escape as everyone recovers from the hit.

“Ow,” Ray says. “Yeah, that’s a pretty good blow. Everyone okay?”

“We’re good,” Hob helps Splinter to his feet, “‘cept ninja lady got away.”

“Kunoichi.”

Hob lets go of Splinter’s arm, dropping him back to the ground.

“Well, if you’re going to be all technical about it.”

Splinter grunts.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll help ya’s, you annoying rat.”

“What the heck was that all about?” Mikey asks Leo.

“That kunoichi was after the Sword of Tengu. She said she was working for the Foot Clan.”

“The Foot Clan. I had hoped they would not trouble us again in this life.”

“This life, sensei?” Donnie asks.

“We will discuss later,” his father promises.

“Yeah, I know what she said, Leo. I meant—” Mikey starts.

“Meant what, Michelangelo?” Leo asks.

Mikey blusters then drops his head with a sigh. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, looks like you mutants are innocent for the theft. You’re free to go. Though I do think the blue one should be held responsible for the damages,” Desk cop says, pointing to the hole in the building.

Leo pulls out a card from his pants’ pocket and hands it to the cop.

“My boss will be happy to handle the damages, sir.”

The policeman glances at the card, an eyebrow raised.

“Lucky Fox Industries, huh?” cop shrugs. “Never heard of it but as long as everything’s taken care of I doubt I’ll have to arrest ya.”

“Pfft. Like you ain’t itching to try,” Ray mutters.

Sally jabs him with her elbow, shushing him. “Thank you, officer. If there isn’t anything else, we’ll just be on our way.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get outta here.” The cop waves them off. “Place is starting to smell like a zoo.”

Splinter growls and moves to strike the insolent police officer but is pulled away by Hob.

“Come on, Splints. Let’s go home. Kids can tell us about their first day of school on the way back.”

#

Once home, Splinter sits the boys down to discuss the Foot Clan as promised.

“A long time ago, in an era now known as Feudal Japan, there was fearsome ninja clan, the Foot,” Splinter explains. “They were led by Oroku Saki, the Shredder. By his side stood his oldest friend and closest ally, Hamato Yoshi. Yoshi had been taken in by Saki’s father and raised as his brother. Despite the clan’s unsavory practices, Yoshi owed them everything. Everything except the love of his life, Tang Shen.

“He met her one spring day while traveling home from a successful mission. She was a gentle and loving spirit. She helped Yoshi see there was more to life, more to the world than the Foot could ever offer him and eventually his friendship with the cruel and unjust Shredder unraveled. Yoshi left the Clan in a rage. He and Shen went on to marry and have four beautiful sons.

“But the Foot Clan still lingered, an ever present threat. They had taken to shaking down several villages for riches and power. Yoshi did his best to counteract these injustices. But one night, a fire broke out in a neighbor’s home. Whilst Yoshi left to assist, his own home was attacked by the Foot in retaliation for his efforts against them.

“They set the Hamato home ablaze with Shen and their sons inside, the eldest of whom was merely four at the time. The boys survived the fire, narrowly rescued by Yoshi.”

Splinter bows his head, a tear running down his face.

“Shen was not so lucky. She perished that night, leaving Yoshi to care for his young sons alone. Yet despite this hefty blow, this night did not persuade Yoshi to stop fighting for what was right. He continued to oppose the Foot until his last breath, a terrible battle. Yoshi’s son had seen him practicing his ninjitsu when they were young and begged him to train them. He agreed, thinking it would help to protect them should the worst come to pass. It was not enough. Father and sons died that fateful day.”

Splinter turns to his sons, a smile on his face.

“But centuries later a miracle occurred. Hamato Yoshi and his sons were reincarnated. Yoshi, a lab rat renamed Splinter by the scientists. His eldest, Ryu had been renamed Leonardo. Takeshi had become Raphael. Daichi was Donatello. And Makoto became Michelangelo.

“These new forms surprised Yoshi, who had regained a human-like intelligence from the experiments done to his new rat form. It wasn’t until they were exposed to mutagen that he came to see the turtles from the lab were the reincarnations of his young sons, their personalities becoming clearer in this state. They were younger in this new life than they had been upon their deaths. Ten years younger. It was a happy surprise for Yoshi, for Splinter to get a second chance to watch his sons grow up.” Splinter’s eyes drift to Raphael with a bittersweet smile. “Well, most of them.”

“We’re reincarnated ninja?!” Raph asks.

“I’m already a ninja so it’s not that impressive,” Mikey says.

“Master Splinter with all due respect, have you lost your ever-loving marbles?! Reincarnation is NOT a thing! We weren’t human hundreds of years ago. We weren’t some ancient ninja family killed by the Foot Clan. And what kind of ninja goes around calling himself, the Shredder? That’s totally bogus!” Donnie shouts.

“It’s not bogus!” Leo yells at him, getting to his feet in anger. “It happened. I remember. And quite frankly it’s an insult to our mother’s memory to act like she’s just some character from a fairytale.”

“You… remember?” Splinter asks, hope in his eyes.

He’d long thought he was the only one who recalled their past, a bitter disappointment to be sure. To find his eldest still held some memories of their lives, was a precious gift he never hoped to receive.

“I do,” Leo says simply.

“Ya think that’s why the Foot have been hunting me for so long?” Raph asks. “Like, they know I used to be Ryu—”

“Takeshi,” Leo says. “I was Ryu.”

“Right, Takeshi—and maybe they’re after me because of some ancient grudge?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not why they were after you,” Leo says.

“Yeah, well how would you know?” Raph gets to his feet and gets in his older brother’s face. “Just because you’re a ninja don’t mean you know how those ninja think!”

“Boys!” Splinter says. “There is no need for fighting.”

“Maybe not fighting, but there is room for training,” Raphael says. “You taught me ninja stuff in my past life and you taught my brothers in this one. I want in.”

“Are you sure, Raphael? The training is not easy.”

“I’m sure. What’s that old saying? Fight fire with fire.”

“And the whole world gets burned?” Donnie asks.

Raph smacks Donnie upside the head.

“What I mean, is the only way to protect myself from those Foot creeps is to become a ninja. Please, Sensei?” Raph bows to Splinter who smiles at him and nods.

“Of course I will teach you, my son. Your training begins tomorrow morning.”

Hob clears his throat.

“He has school in the morning.”

“Ah right. After school then.”

“Thank you, Master Splinter.”

Raph wraps his arms around the old rat in a hug that Splinter happily returns, even as old worries regarding the Foot linger in the back of his mind.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

At East Laird High School’s hockey rink, April O’Neil glides across the ice, bobbing and weaving between the hockey players of the opposing team—The Rottweilers of Kevin Peters High. The Hamato family cheers her and their home team on alongside the Mutanimals, even though they don’t yet own the team’s merch.

“Go get ‘em, April!” Mikey calls out.

“You go, girl!” Raph hollers, pumping his fist. “April! April!”

“April! April! April!” the others join in just as the offending team’s captain, Casey Jones sweeps in, stealing the puck straight from April.

“No!” the Mutanimals cry out.

“She can’t do that,” Donnie says. “Can she do that?”

“As long as Jones doesn’t do anything worth a penalty she can do whatever she wants.” Raph shrugs.

“How was that not a penalty?”

“Well she didn’t Elbow, Knee, High-Stick, Cross-check, Slash, Hook, or Trip April. All she did was cut in her path and take the puck. No physical contact at all as far as I could tell.”

“I only understood half of the words you just said.”

Raphael rolls his eyes at his younger brother. “It’s simple—”

As Raph explains the rules to Donatello, Casey makes a shot in the home team’s net. Once back in play, the puck quickly falls back into the Rottweilers’ hands. The team passes it to Cassandra “Casey” Jones who gets checked by Irma of the East Laird Hornets just before she can make the shot, passing the puck back to her teammate April.

“Yeah! Go Irma!” Hob shouts.

He then nudges Splinter in the side with a smile and adds, “Irma’s one of April’s human friends. Nice girl, but a bit shy.”

“Surprising given her performance. But correct me if I’m wrong,” Splinter says, “isn’t checking not allowed in girls’ hockey?”

“Normally, yeah, but last year when April tried out for the team and got the rundown of the rules for the all-girls team—she’d previously only watched men’s hockey and didn’t know there was a difference—she led a protest and petition to get their league’s rules changed to allow it on the grounds of anti-feminine discrimination and general misogyny for not allowing the girls to be as physical as their male counterparts. You shoulda seen her. Not even my kid and I’m proud.”

“Hm. As you say.” Splinter turns his eyes back to the game in a huff.

Hob sighs. “You’re still miffed I consider Raphie my kid too, ain’t ya?”

“A little.”

When April passes the puck back to Irma for the winning shot, the group leaps up out of their seats to cheer, letting the parental rivalry die down for now.

Down in the rink, April circles Casey, sticking her tongue out at her rival who proceeds to throw down her helmet in frustration over the loss. Once April rejoins her team, Casey sighs and looks up in the stands where her dad, Arnold Jones is sitting, still managing to look proud even if Casey feels like a disappointment.

#

Casey pouts the entire car ride home. Her dad is somehow still smiling despite the loss at the game. It’s times like this where she’s appreciative of having a supportive dad and irritated by it because she would love nothing more right now than someone to share in her anger and frustration.

“Hey chin up, kiddo. Ain’t like it’s the end of the world. Wa’n’t even a bad game. One point. That’s all they won by. You know how close that is?” Arnold “Hun” Jones says, taking the left turn into their neighborhood.

“One point?” Casey says sarcastically.

“Look, I know you’re bummed—”

“It’s just—URGH! That smug little O’Neil just drives me—UGH!” Casey runs her hands through her close-shorn black hair.

“Uh-huh. Is this your competitive streak talking or do you still have that crush on her from primary school?”

Casey blushes furiously, sputtering in protest.

“I did

not

have a crush on April O’Neil!”

“So, when you were six and said you wanted to kiss her ask her to have a play wedding with you that wasn’t a sign of your burgeoning lesbianism—lesbianishness? Lesbo fever.”

“Dad, that makes it sound like being gay is a plague.”

“Oh right.” Hun snaps his fingers as he lands on another horrible term. “Sapphicism!”

“Stop,” Casey groans.

“Whatever.” Hun rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying you used to like her is all.”

“Key words being ‘used to’, dad. I hate her and her stupid smug smile and her annoyingly cute dimples.”

Hun smiles at his daughter. “Used to, huh?”

“Shut up.” Casey slouches down further in the passenger seat, arms folded across her hockey jersey.

“I’m just saying.” He pulls into their driveway. “Hey, you wanna get revenge on her? We could graffiti that brownstone she lives in.”

“Dad, revenge just says that you’re a sore loser and makes you look bad. Taking the high road is a thing for a reason after all.”

Casey opens the car door, sliding out the passenger seat.

“You sound like your mom.”

Both their faces fall at the mention of Casey’s mom. Gone from this world as of six years prior due to a genetic condition. She’d been diagnosed just two months earlier and was receiving medical help at a hospital on the East Side that specialized in genetic conditions and stem cell research. Then one day everyone checked into the hospital as well as several people living in the area with similar genetic mutations suddenly dropped dead for no explainable reason. Most of the conditions weren’t even supposed to be fatal.

“Hey, uh, you want some of your mom’s old-fashioned chocolate cream pie?” Hun asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I don’t make it as good as she did but I mean we have the ingredients at least and it always seemed to cheer ya up after a bad day.”

“No thanks. I’m—I’m not hungry.”

She slams the car door shut and heads inside. As she unlocks the door, her dad reaches out to touch her shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, waiting for her to turn and meet his eye as he smiles down on her. “I’m proud of you. Your mom would be too. It’s a good thing ya got her brains from her instead o’ me.” He rubs her head fondly. “What you said was real grown up of you.”

Casey cracks a smile and scoffs. “If I’m grown up, what’s that make you?”

“Ouch!” Hun places a hand against his forehead like a melodrama. “You wound me, daughter. For I have never been so forsaken in all my many years.”

“Many, many, many—”

“Alright, alright! I ain’t that old. Now shoo. Time for bed and I got work to do tonight.”

“Do you have to go, dad?”

“Yeah, I do. The guys say the heist’ll only work tonight and I’m already running late. And don’t start on that ‘there will be other heists’ spiel. The gang’s running low on cash flow. If we don’t hit a big enough score soon, we’ll be having a mutiny on our doorstep.”

“Like Fang’s not already itching to pull one anyway.”

“Fang’s a punk, but he did pull through for us when he got me back into the gang after… ya know.”

“After mom.” Casey frowns. “All the more reason to watch your back around him. He got you dealt back in and the next thing he knew you were passing him up the food chain and taking command. Guy can’t have been too happy with that.”

“Don’t I know it.” Hun kisses his daughter’s temple. “Love ya, sweetie.”

“Love you too, dad. Stay safe!” She waves him off as he gets back in his car and drives off to join the other Purple Dragons for their heist.

#

The next morning, Michelangelo sits in his bedroom, obsessively googling ADHD on his new laptop. The results are less than ideal in his honest opinion. Every result refers to the condition as either a mental illness or a disorder. And every webpage lists something called Executive Dysfunction among the symptoms. Mikey doesn’t bother to read what that means, thinking that dysfunction is bad enough on its own without being labeled executive. To him it means he’s not just dysfunctional, he’s majorly dysfunctional. He whips out his journal and begins pouring his thoughts into it:

Dear Diary,

The guidance counselor said I might have ADHD, which stands for Attention DEFICIT Hyperactivity DISORDER. Fun name, huh? I checked out the ‘disorder’ on this thing called the internet and it sounds worse and worse the more I read about it. It means I’m sick or insane and that I’m a dysfunctional mess and will always stand out, doomed to never fit in. Dad hasn’t seen the counselor’s notes on the SGC yet, I don’t think but it’s only a matter of time before he does. What will he think? What will my brothers think? I don’t want to disappoint them but I don’t know how to keep this from them. I don’t want them to think there’s something wrong with me or think I’m crazy or

Mikey stops writing as he realizes that he’s just written proof of his worst fears into his journal and that while his immediate family might respect his privacy, he still has no idea about Raph or the Mutanimals and whether or not they’d sneak in and read it. He quickly rips out the page and tears it into little pieces alongside the pamphlet the guidance counselor gave him, throwing both in the wastebasket beside his art desk.

He stalks out of the room to get a drink from the kitchen when he comes across Ray sitting in the living room, working on a massive puzzle with more pieces than he can count and all in unusual shapes.

“Yes! Knew that went there,” Ray says, looking up from his work to wave at the young turtle. “Oh hey Mikey.”

“Hey, uh… Is that a normal puzzle or—”

“Nah. Normal puzzles are too easy so I buy more unconventional ones. I really like the kind where the pieces are shaped like animals. So much fun. You wanna try it?”

Instead of answering Michelangelo runs back to his room in a panic, the need to quench his thirst forgotten as he digs around in his trash bin for the discarded pamphlet and diary pieces and stuffs them in his mouth, hoping to destroy the evidence by eating it.

“Mikey, what the hell are you doing?” Raph asks as he walks by to the sight of his younger brother eating garbage.

“Nuffin,” Mikey says with a mouthful of paper as Raph continues to stare at him like he’s lost his mind—maybe he has.

“Dude, you look crazy. It’d be one thing if you were eating food out of the trash. I’ve done that before, but

paper?

”

Crazy

Crazy

Crazy

Raphael thought he was crazy and he didn’t even know about the ADHD thing. Right? RIGHT?!

Mikey swallows the paper and shoves his brother out of his doorway. “I’m not crazy, you’re crazy!” Mikey slams the door in his face. “Just leave me alone!”

“Mikey, I—” Raph sighs on the other side of the door.

Only when his footsteps recede does Mikey let himself drop to the floor of his room to sob over the thought that his own brother thinks there’s something wrong with him.

#

Raphael marches through the halls of the Mutanimals’ bunker hoping to find Hob. Instead, he comes across his least favorite brother.

“Leo, ya seen Pops anywhere?”

“Splinter was meditating in his room last I checked.”

“No, not your Pops, my Pops, Hob.” Raph considers Splinter’s location a moment. “Though Splinter may be able to help too. Maybe.”

“That cat isn’t your real father, Raphael.”

“Yeah he is,” Raph says, unaware of Splinter listening just around the corner with a pained expression. “He’s the only dad I ever had growing up.”

“Only because he—”

“If you say he kidnapped me again, I’ll shove those katana of yours right up your shell.”

“Why do you even need Hob right now anyway?”

“Mikey’s acting weird and Hob’s usually good about figuring this stuff out.”

“So you want to talk to your fake father about your real brother instead your real father who actually raised said brother?” Leo asks.

“Call any member of my family fake one more time and I’ll—”

“Shove my katana where the sun don’t shine?”

Raphael growls and clenches his hands outward as if wanting to strangle Leo but restraining himself from doing so.

“Look, I haven’t seen Hob, but I’m sure Mikey’s fine.”

“Oh, so our little brother normally eats literal garbage? I’ll have to remember that for later.”

Leo looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Mikey would never eat out of the trash. He says his palate is too refined for even slightly unappetizing food.”

“So shreds of paper is suddenly divine cuisine?”

“What? Look, if something’s wrong with Mikey then you should talk to Splinter about it. He’s more qualified to deal with our—immediate family,” Leo says, gritting his teeth for the last part.

“Better. And no, he isn’t. Guy didn’t know his eldest son was sneaking out for I don’t want to know how many years for some super secret night job. You really expect me to know what’s going on with his youngest?”

“Just because I’m good at keeping secrets doesn’t mean father is unobservant. It just means my skills are sharper than his.”

“Oh really? So you’re telling me you’ve got no complaints with his parenting? Not a twinge of disappointment in how he’s raised you or our brothers?”

Splinter waits with bated breath as a silence drags out following Raphael’s question.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, Mr. Daddy Issues. I’m going to find Hob,” Raph says.

Splinter hangs his head and slinks away, sad that his eldest son did not come to his defense when Raphael questioned his parenting. Splinter knew that Leo thought he knew better than the old rat but he didn’t think he truly doubted his parenting so much.

#

Hob sits in his study, channel surfing between different news stations reporting on the uptick in Purple Dragons activity. A few networks talking about the latest heist just last night. Others talking about them encroaching on new territory—a little too close for comfort.

“I didn’t expect you to keep this room so clean,” Splinter says from the doorway.

Hob shuts off the TV and gets up from his chair. The study is indeed quite tidy with the shelves kept in alphabetical order and dusted, the desk organized perfectly and everything in its place. The room was more fitting a college professor than a former alley cat but nobody said a stray couldn’t be just as neat and finicky as a house cat—not that Hob would ever admit to having been one himself long ago.

“Yeah, well I’m full of surprises. Whatcha need?”

“Raphael considers you his father.”

“This again,” Hob mutters. “Look, Splints—”

“I am not angry about this… currently. Rather I am sad. I heard him and Leo talking and even Leonardo agreed that I am…” Splinter’s head shies away, “not the best parent.”

“I see.”

“I just don’t know how to fix this. Reminding Raphael that I am his true father hasn’t worked and even though Leonardo knows no other father he still sees me as inferior.”

“Okay, first off, parent ain’t a title you’re entitled to upon your kid entering the world. Parent is something you earn by being one. Now, I don’t know what Leo’s problem is. My guess is he’s got some unresolved issues from his previous life or something. But Raph? He’s only known me and the other Mutanimals. Waltzing in here and acting like you’re entitled to a parent-child relationship ain’t gonna get you nowhere. If anything it’s just going to make him see you as some grandstanding jerk trying to throw his weight around like blood or reincarnation is all that matters when it comes to family. It don’t. Your wife was your family wa’n’t she?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, you two weren’t related was ya? He said hopefully,” Hob asks with a smirk.

Splinter rolls his eyes. “No, we were not related.” Hob raises a brow, tilting his head. “Okay, I see your point. Family does not begin or end in blood. But, he is still

my

family even if he does not see me as such. So how—”

“It takes time, Yoshi. Ya gotta put your best foot forward and try to just spend time with him first. Given enough time to bond I’m sure he’ll come around. He’s already seeing your other kids as his brothers after only a couple weeks of hanging out.”

Splinter smiles and nods.

“But the thing is, Splints, you can be his dad too,” Hob shakes his head gently, “but that won’t mean Raphie stops seeing me as his pops as well. And I need you to learn to be okay with that. For Raphael’s sake. Okay?”

Splinter sighs. “I suppose you are right.”

“Course I am.” Hob smiles a smug grin as Ray barges into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I caught word on the crime scanner that the Purple Dragons were seen entering Mutant Town. Not sure what they’re doing here but it looks like they came out in numbers. No doubt shit’s about to get real.”

“Get the others and let ‘em know we’re heading topside for a fight. Those thugs ain’t going to come onto our turf and harass our people. Just make sure once we head out that the base is locked down to protect the kids inside,” Hob says.

“You will not let them fight beside you?” Splinter asks.

“They’re kids, not soldiers. Raph and Mondo already seen enough shit just surviving the Mutant Revolution. And your kids don’t need to be dragged into this mess,” Hob answers.

“A wise judgment. I only ask because I know Leonardo will be furious about being forced to sit this out. He’s always been stubborn about not letting the adults handle the task of protecting the family.”

“He’ll get over it. Let’s move.”

The trio of older mutants leaves the study, brushing past Raphael as they charge down the hall.

“Hey, Pops, Splints, I need to talk to you guys about—”

“We can talk about Michelangelo later, my son,” Splinter says. “Right now there is a gang approaching Mutant Town and we expect them to be coming for a fight.”

Raph’s eyes go wide. “You knew about the—” He sighs, hanging his head in shame. “You were eavesdropping.”

Splinter places a hand against the turtle’s shoulder. “We will discuss this later. Right now you and your brothers need to stay safe and stay inside.”

“Hob’s orders?”

“It is a good order. I will not risk you and your brothers—all four of them—for some petty thugs.”

Raphael smiles at the acknowledgement that Mondo counts as his brother too as Splinter heads out with the rest of the Mutanimals.

#

Out and about in Mutant Town, the Purple Dragons tear through the streets, breaking in windows of mutant-owned shops, harassing citizens both mutant and human alike, and just generally being a collective menace. Some mutants try to fight back only for the gang to outnumber them in smaller units of five or so against individual mutants. The humans, not having the strength or speed of their mutant neighbors flee for their lives, hiding out in their homes as the Purple Dragons rob and assault the rest of the neighborhood.

“Come on, freaks, that all you got?” Fang—Hun’s right-hand man—calls out before bringing a crowbar down on a parked car.

“No.”

A cannonball zooms out and strikes Fang in the gut, knocking him flat on his ass.

“We’re just getting started,” Hob says, holding a bazooka over his shoulder. “Now who wants sum’a this?”

Hob fires off another cannonball from the bazooka, aiming for a small group of Purple Dragons who jump out of the way. The Mutanimals charge into the fray and while the Purple Dragons outnumber them fifty to six, that won’t stop them from defending their home—especially since Ray’s spent the past few years outfitting their home turf with a defense grid for use in times like this.

Ray activates a series of lasers hidden in the nearest traffic light, using a remote control to aim his attacks at three Purple Dragons at once, then setting his sights on another trio of thugs. Sally, meanwhile, fires off twin pistols, bobbing and weaving as some goons ducked behind the parked cars fire back. Their attacks don’t hit as she gets in close to go for a close-quarters assault, striking the guns out of one’s hands before bashing their face into the car and throwing them at the other Purple Dragon.

Pete flies overhead, the most exposed and narrowly avoids a bullet to the wing as he drops knockout gas on a cluster of roughly a dozen goons. The gas dissipates too quickly to knock out more than half of them but Slash comes charging in, whacking the remaining half with his blunted mace until they’re as unconscious as the ones with enough sense to let the smoke put them to sleep.

As the Purple Dragons start to lose ground and cohesion, Fang takes note of their leader’s absence. He cuts away from the gang to look for Hun, finding him around the corner painting the Run of the Mill pizza shop with graffiti.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Fang hollers.

“What? It’s good art, ain’t it?” Hun asks, nonplussed by his ally’s outburst.

“Good art? Good art?! You’re the one who called fer this attack. You’re supposed to be the leader, so

lead

!”

Hun turns on Fang like a whip, straightening out to tower over his second in command with a glower.

“You want me to lead?” Hun gets in his face. “Then

don’t

boss me around like you’re the one in charge,

punk

,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a jab from his pointer finger to Fang’s chest, adding to the bruise from Hob’s cannonball.

Nevertheless, Hun joins the fray, seeking out none other than the Mutanimals’ leader himself, Old Hob. Hun socks the old cat in the jaw before the feline can see him coming. Hob reaches for his gun only for Hun to slap it away and start striking out with his fists, getting two more hits in before Hob recovers and starts dodging, putting a little distance between the two leaders.

“What’s this ‘bout, Hun? You Dragons usually know better than to fight us.”

Hun smirks and says, “I just don’t like your face.”

“Yeah?” Hob raises a brow and as Hun tries to punch him again, the cat ducks down swiping under the thug’s legs, throwing him off balance so Hob can get a scratch in, tearing his claws across Hun’s cheek before he even hits the pavement. “I don’t much like yours either.”

Hun reaches to his face, his hand coming away red with blood where the mutant scratched him.

“You miserable, flea-bitten—”

“Feral? Stray? Not house-broken? Trust me, ain’t no insult you can fling at me that I ain’t heard a million times before.”

Hun gets to his feet and runs at Hob with a growl.

#

Raph races into the training room—a vast space with an elaborate obstacle course along the far wall, a series of exercise equipment on the near right, and an open fighting circle on the near left. All four of his brothers are already there, Donatello and Leonardo sparring with their weapons as Mikey and Mondo watch from the sidelines—or well, Mondo watches as Mikey doom-scrolls with a serious frown.

“Guys, Purple Dragons up top. The others are already out there. Let’s go!” Raph says.

“Purple Dragons? Like real dragons or does the name refer to some—I don’t know—food truck or something?” Donnie asks.

“They’re a gang,” Leo says. “One of the biggest group of thugs in New York. Whatever they want up in the streets, we should stay out of it.”

“Seriously?” Raph asks. “Those punks are out there attacking our home and you want us to just sit back and twiddle our thumbs?”

“This bunker is our home.” Leo points upward. “The rest of Mutant Town is irrelevant. Our family comes first. Your safety, our brothers’ safety—”

“What about Splinter’s safety? He’s up there right now fighting with the rest of the Mutanimals.”

Leo drags a hand down his face with a groan. “Of course he is. Why should I be surprised? You guys stay here while I go pull father out of the fray.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m not sitting around here doing nothing. I don’t care what you, Splinter, or even Hob has to say to that. I don’t care about none of y’all’s overprotective bullshit. We’re all going up top and we’re—”

“First, don’t speak for the rest of us, because I’m more than happy to stay out of a messy brawl,” Mondo says. “And second, you do realize Donnie and Mikey already went topside while you two were bickering right?”

Leo looks around to see his brothers have disappeared and charges out of the training room to go after them. He reaches the surface and quickly finds his youngest brothers duking it out with a series of Purple Dragons with chains and knives. His brothers handle themselves well in the fight—unsurprising given they’re trained ninja fighting against basic goons with even more basic combat skills.

Raphael runs past Leo who quickly loses sight of his red-clad brother. He comes Mikey’s aid as a Purple Dragon tries to shoot him in the back, taking his katana to the thug’s gun hand, dropping it before he can get the drop on Michelangelo. The Purple Dragon screams in agony, clutching at his stump of an arm. Mikey turns to the sound to see what his older brother has done.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Mikey asks.

“You’re welcome. Now get back inside.”

“First, I was

not

thanking you even a little bit for that. And second, you might be the oldest but you’re not the boss of me. COWABUNGA!”

Mikey rushes at a cluster of criminals breaking into a nearby store. Leo is about to go after him when Donnie gets surrounded by even more gangsters. Leo rushes to his aid, hoping Mikey can handle himself a little longer until he can force his two youngest brothers back inside their safe and secure bunker home in the Bronx Zoo ruins. His biggest concern is Raphael who has completely disappeared on him and is the least trained out of all of them. He’ll have to worry later. His other brothers are a more immediate priority.

#

Far off down the way, Raphael is duking it out with six Purple Dragons at once, just absolutely demolishing them, tossing them like rag dolls left and right when Fang hits him upside the head with a pipe while his back is turned. Splinter catches sight of this attack and intervenes before Fang can bring the pipe down on his shell. With a spike of adrenaline, Splinter leaps, kicking Fang in the face and knocking him to the ground. Splinter just barely sticks the landing—not that Fang notices his weakened knees—and gestures for the thug to come at him, holding his cane like a blunt weapon, tail lashing about.

Fang slowly rises to his feet and decides to turn non-existent tail and run, thinking better of fighting Splinter. Once Fang’s out of his line of sight, Splinter buckles, kneeling on the ground to recover from exacerbating his old injury and to check on Raphael’s head wound, blood trickling slowly from the gash on his forehead. Raphael starts to come to.

“Are you alright, my son?” Splinter asks.

“’M fin’. Gonna bash shum heads.” Raph tries to stand but starts to wobble. Splinter catches him before he falls and leans the young turtle against him.

“You have a concussion. We are going home. Now.”

“But—”

“No buts. You cannot fight in this condition. Unless you want to end up dead.”

“Been there, done that. Wushn’t fun.”

Splinter wonders briefly what he means by this but he’ll have to worry about it another time. Raphael needs him now.

#

The battle starts to die down as both groups call for a retreat, the Purple Dragons fleeing as cop sirens sound down the street, and the mutants both Mutanimal and civilian alike head back into their homes for rest and recouperation—and also because all cops are bastards even if you’re the victim. But Leo’s job isn’t done. Donatello and Michelangelo are safe and mostly unharmed, save for a few bruises, but Raphael is nowhere to be found.

“Hey, kid, get home already. Fight’s over and the cops are coming,” Hob shouts to him.

“No way.” Leo punctuates this statement with a swing of his sword. “I’m not leaving until I’ve found Raphael.”

“Hey, freak!” a cop calls, stepping out of a cop car, gun drawn. “Put the swords down and nobody gets hurt.”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this!” Leo growls before turning to run in the hopes of finding Raphael elsewhere.

“Dispatch, we got a mutant with ninja swords fleeing the scene of a riot over in Mutant Town. Possible Foot Clan affiliation. We need backup,” the cop’s partner says into the radio.

“He ain’t—Hey!” Hob calls out as the cops rush past him.

He races to catch up to them and keep Leo safe. Why the kid couldn’t have at least sheathed his swords, he has no idea. As Leo rounds a corner, one of the cops fires off their gun—always with the twitchy trigger fingers.

Hob grabs the cop who fired the shot from behind, covering their mouth and jabbing them with a tranquilizer he keeps in his belt specifically for situations like this—no sense wasting a tranq on a random goon who the cops will always see in the wrong, but definitely worth it to use on a power-drunk cop so they can’t catch who’s fighting them.

Around the corner, Leo tries to recall where Donnie said Raphael had gone but there’s no sign of his younger brother anywhere. He scans the area, his eyes landing on a small pool of blood. Leo bends down, swiping his fingers through it and sniffing it.

“Turtle,” he whispers, a twinge of fear pricking the back of his mind.

What happened to Raph?

“Freeze, freak!” the cops calls, pointing his gun at Leo at point-blank range.

Leo swings his sword, cutting the cop’s gun in half and bashes in the side of their face with the hilt of his katana. Bad enough the Purple Dragons hurt Raph, maybe even kidnapped or killed him. He was none too happy to deal with some bigoted cop.

He keeps pounding the officer even when he’s down and doesn’t stop when two more officers arrive on the scene and open fire on him. He dodges a few bullets and uses his katana to deflect the others, charging at the cops as he uses his advanced ninja skills to avoid injury. Before Leo can strike them down, the cops are hit with tranquilizer darts and slump to the ground.

“Kid, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Hob screams at him. “You trying to get yourself arrested?”

“I don’t have time for this! Raphael—”

“Is home, safe. Where you should be. Splints found him a little bit ago and took him to the medbay for a concussion.”

“Concussion?!”

“Relax. Ray’s already taking care of him. But we gotta go before more of these wannabe pigs show up.”

Leo sheathes his swords and follows Hob back home.

“Wannabe pigs?”

“I know a warthog or two. Ain’t gonna insult their species by comparing them to these cretins no matter how popular it is to call cops swine.”

#

Leo and Hob enter the Mutanimals’ medbay where Raph is sitting in a medical bed with his head in bandages. Leo rushes over to hug him.

“Raph, what happened?” Leo asks.

“Eh, some Purple Dragon loser got the drop on me is all. I’ll be fine.”

“Now, remember, you can’t—” Ray starts.

“Can’t fall asleep or I’ll make the head injury worse. Yeah, yeah. I know. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“Your head would’ve been fine if you’d just stayed inside like I told you to,” Leo says.

“Really, Leo, an ‘I told you so’? Mutant Town is my home. I couldn’t just stand by and let those goons tear it to pieces.”

“No. This is your home.” Leo points to the floor. “Mutant Town is just the surrounding community. It doesn’t matter half as much as your safety or life.”

“Pretty sure I’m still breathing, big brother so why don’t you chill out?”

“I’ll chill out when you stop acting stupid!”

“You mean like you did just a few minutes ago?” Hob asks.

Leo turns a fiery glare on him.

“What happened a few minutes ago?” Splinter asks.

“Leo attacked some cops who showed up. Beat one to a pulp and woulda struck two others if I hadn’t tranqed ‘em first. Kid’ll be lucky if he doesn’t wake up to an arrest warrant tomorrow.”

“Funny considering Leo deescalated a situation with the cops just last week,” Donnie says.

“Oh yeah?” Hob asks. “Where was that Leo today, huh?”

“That Leo was trying to protect his family from an unnecessary arrest. Today’s Leo was more worried about finding Raph and didn’t have reason to care about the cops who pulled a gun on him and were wasting his time or about getting arrested himself,” Leo says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do right now than receive the third degree from a one-eyed cat.”

Leo shoves past Hob as he leaves the Medbay. Hob gestures for Splinter to follow him out into the hall. Splinter nods in agreement.

“I will be right back, my son,” Splinter says to Raph.

“’Kay. Thanks for saving me back there by the way.”

“Of course. Perhaps we can do something together after you’ve healed up. I believe Sally mentioned that you like baseball?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

Splinter follows Hob out into the hall and asks, “What is this about?”

“Leo was going to kill those cops.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, he was going to end the lives of those—”

“I know what killing means. Leonardo would never do such a thing. I taught him from a young age in both this life and the last that all life is precious and worth protecting. He wouldn’t just mercilessly kill someone for anything less than self-defense.”

“Yeah, well I know the look of a killer when I see one. His eyes were hard, cold. He was going to end all three of them if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

“You may know Raphael better than I, but just as you raised Raphael, so too did I raise Leonardo. I know him better than anyone.”

Splinter turns back to the medbay.

“Yeah, well considering you didn’t know he had a night job or a safehouse, that don’t really say much except that Leo is an enigma wrapped in a mystery hidden in the shadows. You don’t know him as well you want to believe.”

“I know he would never kill,” Splinter says, adding in a whisper too quiet for him to think Hob could hear, “never again.”

Hear it though, Hob did, leaving him to wonder who Leo could’ve killed in the past and why if Leo was capable back then, Splinter would think him incapable of murder now.

#

Later that night, Hun returns home to find his daughter Casey sitting in the dark, flipping through the news channels. Every station is talking about the Purple Dragons’ attack on Mutant Town. Hun walks up behind the couch and gives Casey a hug from behind.

“Hi, pumpkin.” Hun presses kiss to the top of Casey’s head.

She brushes him off.

“What. Is. This?” she asks, pointing at the TV with the remote.

“The evening news.”

“You know what I meant.”

Casey flips to a different channel that has a shot of Hun’s graffiti on the side of a mutant-owned business. The graffiti depicts April O’Neil with Xs for eyes surrounded by similarly dead-eyed mutants amidst piles of poop with neon colored stink lines. Above the drawing are the words: Rest in Feces. Below, lie the words: Mutants and Traitors.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to get back at April for winning the game. I didn’t want to be some pathetic sore loser. And this,” Casey turns back to the TV, waving the remote furiously at the screen, “this! What is the point of this?!”

“The point was to make it seem like the attack was about the mutants and not about getting even. And just because I’m a sore loser, don’t mean that you are.”

A chuckle forces its way out of Casey throat.

“Even? Even for what?! For me losing a hockey game? Is that really worth all this damage and downright bullying?!”

“Hey, hockey aside, it ain’t like those freaks don’t deserve it. Ever since the Foot Clan started using mutes against us normal criminals, the streets ain’t ever been the same. Purple Dragons used t’ be the kings of New York. Now we’re barely scraping by ‘cuz those stupid ninjas and their pet monsters are throwing their weight around.”

“But this wasn’t about that. Was it, dad?”

Casey turns her back on her father, folding her arms across her chest and hanging her head in disappointment.

Hun sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. “Look, Case—”

“You said I was wise for not wanting revenge.”

“You are. I ain’t. I got a petty streak a mile wide and I don’t like nobody making a fool of my little girl.”

He rests his hands against her shoulders as he presses another kiss to her head.

“Night, princess. I love you.”

Hun heads upstairs for bed leaving Casey to pout in the living room.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

At Foot Headquarters, Karai and Leo spar as Shredder watches from the sidelines and his beloved wife Kitsune meditates behind him, unbothered by the noise of the clashing swords.

“You miserable green pest!” Karai calls out as Leo gets in a good hit. “You don’t deserve to be my grandfather’s Chunin.”

“Watch yourself, child,” Shredder says. “Though you may not like it, Leonardo is Chunin of this clan and you must show him some respect.”

“No worries master. I don’t need any respect from her,” Leo says before disarming Karai and sending her to the floor with a roundhouse kick. He holds his blade under her chin. “All I need is for her to remember that she hasn’t won a fight against me yet, nor will she likely ever.”

Leo turns his shell on her, as Karai gets to her feet. She pulls out a kunai and aims for his head when suddenly Kitsune lets out a scream as she slams a knife down upon a squirming rodent.

“Kitsune!” Shredder calls out, removing his helmet as he rushes over to his immortal wife.

Karai and Leo race over as Kitsune rises to her feet, huffing and pacing, muttering to herself with anger laced like poison in her voice.

“What is wrong, my love?”

“My brother!”

“Which brother? You have several and are we talking that this brother is in trouble or that they themselves are the problem?” Karai asks.

“My brother is the problem. He is the most insufferable of them all. Which is saying a lot considering how annoying the Toad Baron and his revelry is.” Kitsune shudders. “Chunin, you must keep a close eye on your father.”

“My father? Why, Mistress?”

“Because this particular brother is called the Rat King, and as his name would suggest he has a proficiency for controlling rats and other pests, including children to a lesser degree. As Hamato Yoshi has reincarnated as a rat himself—”

“A most delightful outcome,” Shredder interrupts, earning a glare from the witch.

“As Yoshi himself is now a rat, he will no doubt be susceptible to my brother’s mind control. Yoshi may be a nuisance but he is no doubt a skilled ninja. If my brother were to take control of him, there is no telling the havoc he could make your father wreak.”

“Understood, Mistress.” Leo nods. “I’ll take my leave and check on my father at once. Any advice should the Rat King take his mind regardless?”

“Unfortunately, no. There is only one being who can handle my brother and regretfully it is not me, nor do I know where she is.”

Leo grimaces. “Your sister.”

Kitsune nods.

“Then let us hope we will not need her poor excuse for help,” Leonardo says.

“You’re still bitter,” Kitsune remarks.

“I am.”

Kitsune smiles. “Good. Make haste, young ninja. The Rat King will surely find your father in a short while unless you can find him first.”

#

Leaving Yankee stadium in baseball jerseys and hats, Raphael and Splinter slurp down the remnants of their sodas and toss them in the nearest garbage can.

“That was so much fun! Been awhile since I’ve had time to go to one of these games,” Raph says.

“Yes, I quite enjoyed that as well. Though I wonder how you can keep the many elaborate rules of these sports all straight. Hockey, football, baseball.”

“Eh,” Raph shrugs, “you get used to it after a while.”

“I can hardly get used to this modern life.”

“Brain still stuck in feudal Japan, huh?”

“Something like that.” Splinter glances around at the buildings as they continue their walk back to the subway. “Even after having been a lab rat and dealing with your brother’s inventions going haywire all the time, it still boggles my mind how such a world like New York City can even exist. Times Square alone with all the bright lights and busy streets makes my head… spin.” Splinter catches himself on the side of a building as his head grows faint.

Come to me.

“Master Splinter?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

COME TO ME!

Splinter doubles over in pain, clutching his head with both hands.

“Master—”

In one swift motion, Splinter grabs Raphael by the throat and slams him into the brick façade of the nearest building.

“Splinter,” Raph croaks. “Dad.”

Splinter’s cellphone rings and he answers it, his eyes entirely consumed by a glowing blood red.

“Hello? Ah, Leonardo, what troubles you my son? Me? Your brother and I are in Central Park. Why do you ask? No, no. We are fine. We shall see you at home later. Love you.”

Splinter hangs up as Raph’s eyes catch on a tall willowy figure with ghostly pale skin, pointed teeth, a bunched up nose, pointed ears, and eyes as red as Splinter’s currently are. Around the strange man’s head, a circle of rats swarm like a living crown. Raphael passes out as the man waves at him. Only then does Splinter release his grip on his son’s throat. He turns to the man, kneeling before him as he pulls out a flute, tapping it against Splinter’s shoulders.

“Arise, my knight. For now you are a champion amongst your kind and together we will accomplish a great many things. I am your king, your Rat King. Come. We have much work to do.”

The Rat King extends his hand to Splinter as rats swarm up from the sewers and engulf them dissolving them both for quick mystical transport before scurrying away, leaving nothing where the Rat King and Splinter once stood.

#

Leo returns home seething, slamming the door behind him as he enters the living room.

“Where the fuck is he?!”

“Nice to see you too, kid. Mind telling me what you’re so pissed about?” Hob asks, not even looking up from his newspaper.

“My father wasn’t in Central Park like he said he was. I have to find him now!”

“Jeez, Leo, calm down. You’re acting like dad’s gone and gotten himself into some sort of a crisis,” Donnie says, writing in his answer to question fifteen on his math homework.

Raphael charges in, huffing and puffing.

“We got… a huge… crisis!”

Leo casts a look at Donatello as if to say,

You were saying?

“What happened?” Leo asks. “Dad said you guys were in Central Park.”

“I thought you two went to some baseball game today,” Mikey says, absentmindedly filling in a circle on his history homework.

“No, Mikey, I’m pretty sure the answer is D.” Donnie points to Mikey’s assignment.

“Is it?”

“Pretty sure. April and I were watching a documentary on that event the other day.”

“Not important! Splinter’s been abducted!” Raphael shouts once he’s caught his breath.

Everyone leaps up from the couch.

“WHAT?!” Donnie and Mikey yell in unison.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What exactly happened?” Hob asks.

“Splinter and I were leaving Yankee Stadium and then he started acting weird, he put me in a chokehold and there was this creepy looking guy standing behind him with a crown of live rats. I think he might’ve been controlling dad or something.”

Leo smiles at him.

“What are you grinning for? Dad’s been—”

“Taken. You mentioned. Doesn’t detract from the fact you finally called your real father dad.”

A tense pause hangs in the air until Raph lifts his fist in front of Leo’s face.

“I will pound you into dirt.”

Leo rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. We still need to find dad and save him from this Rat King.”

“Aw, I wanted to name the bad guy,” Mikey whines.

“You can name the next one,” Hob says. “Priorities, kids. Priorities.”

“Hey, where’s Splinter?” Sally asks, entering the living room with Ray. “I thought he’d be back with Raph by now.”

“Splints has been abducted by some rat-controlling creep,” Hob explains.

“Rat-controlling? You sure?” Ray asks.

“He had a living crown of rats and was definitely mind-controlling Splinter. What else would you call that?” Raph asks.

“If this guy can control rats then I just need to hack into the exterminators’ databases and find any sort of unusual rodent activity. Should be able to find them no problem.”

“Exterminators have databases?” Sally asks.

“Sure, doesn’t everybody?” Ray asks.

“Just get on that. And Raphie, you’re sitting this one out,” Hob says.

“What?! What for?”

“You got a knot on the back of your head.”

“Yeah, so what? Splinter slammed me a bit too hard into a brick building. I’m fine.”

“You got a concussion not that long ago. I ain’t seeing you get hurt. Head injuries are no joke. ‘Sides, Splints will kill me if anything happens to you, especially in his name.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re staying here while the rest of us go out and find him. Pete will babysit.”

“PETE?! Come on, be reasonable, Pop.”

“You called,” Pete says, passing by Sally and Ray on their way to the lab.

“You’re watching Raphie tonight while the rest of us search for Splinter.”

“Aye, aye, Captain. We’ll have a great time together. We’ll watch movies, play board games…”

As Pete rambles on about his babysitting plans for the night, Raph looks to Hob with an exasperated glare.

“Ya see what I have to put up with don’t ya?” Raph asks.

“You can thank me when your head goes two weeks without an injury,” Hob says, heading to the lab with the other turtles in tow.

Pete comes up to Raph, wrapping an arm around him.

“And we can make POPCORN!” Pete says, singing the last word.

Raph groans in defeat.

#

In an abandoned factory uptown, Splinter awakens from the Rat King’s mind control and finds himself unable to move, his feet glued to the spot with nothing more than the Rat King’s will. The monster himself emerges from the shadows to circle slowly around Splinter with a vulture-like gaze.

“Yes, yes, you will do quite nicely,” Rat King says.

“Where is my son?”

“Who? The turtle? He’s fine, but you need not worry yourself with him ever again. You belong to me now. Me and my rats are the only family you’ll need from here on out. Consider yourself childless now. You’re welcome.” Rat King bows as if he’s done Splinter a favor by taking him away.

Even from across the room, Splinter manages to spit upon the Rat King’s bowed head. The Rat king scowls, straightens up and pulls a frilly white and pink handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the spittle from the top of his head.

“That was most undignified. As my knight, you’ll need to learn some new manners if you’re going to be in my service.”

“I will

not

be in your service! You cannot keep me here.”

“Oh? And how do you plan to leave when I control your body, mind, and spirit?”

“Body and mind perhaps, but you will never control my spirit nor shall you lay claim to my soul.”

“Oh please, you make it sound like I’m some ghoulish demon.”

“You certainly look like one.”

“And the mortals of New York City would say you look like vermin or a pest, a freak.” Rat King dissolves into rodents to swarm up behind Splinter and reform, grabbing Splinter by the shoulders to whisper in his ear, “You don’t belong in their world. You belong in mine, helping me shape the future in my image.”

“And what a horrifying image that would be.”

“Oh, you think my image is horrifying? Well, how about this?”

The Rat King snaps his fingers and instantly Splinter finds himself standing in a an attic in pool of blood over a dead man in an exterminator’s uniform, the man’s blood on his hands. The Rat King is nowhere to be seen yet Splinter can still hear the snap of his fingers as he arrives at the site of another dead exterminator outdoors, the sun hanging further west than it had when Splinter left Yankee Stadium with Raphael.

Snap.

Dead body.

Snap.

Dead body.

Snap.

Two dead bodies.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Splinter is back in the Rat King’s lair where the exterminators all lie in a pile of death, the Rat King gazing down upon them from an elevated throne with a smile on his face illuminated by the moonlight poking through the windows.

“You see, Splinter. I am the one in control here.”

The Rat King snaps his fingers and Splinter flinches, shutting his eyes to avoid seeing another person dead by his own hands only to be met by the sounds of scurrying rodents. Yoshi opens his eyes as the Rat King’s pets set upon the corpses for a feast. His hands fly to his mouth suppressing a gag.

“You have no hope for escape, no chance to leave me. You’re mine. Now and forever. Oh, but don’t worry. You don’t have to kill anymore exterminators. I still need a few of them around to kill the roaches and fleas that harm my pets. No, I’d rather use you as a weapon. A weapon against my sister Kitsune and her forces. My rats may be plenty but even they are nothing to my sister and her army of ninja. You, however, are a ninja. You shall be the general of my grand army of rodents. You’ll even the playing field nicely.”

“I am not your pawn!”

“Of course not.” Rat King dissolves, swarming down from his throne on high to reform in front of Splinter, grabbing his face forcefully as he prevents Splinter from raising his arms in defense. “You’re my knight. You should really feel honored. My sister’s lackies, unlike you, truly are pawns. All save for her favorite few. But that’s no matter. You’re still a much more valuable player than the entirety of the Foot Clan combined.”

A solitary rat scurries into the room and climbs up Rat King’s shoulder, squeaking in his ear.

“Is that so?” Rat King smiles. “Good news, Splinter. It seems you’ll have the chance to say goodbye to your old family after all. They’re nearing our home here, even as we speak.”

Splinter’s eyes go wide as his heart lurches into his stomach.

“No, please, NO! You can’t make me—” Splinter is cut off as Rat King takes complete control of him.

“What was it that I couldn’t make you do? Hm?” Rat King pats his head. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together, you and I. Much fun indeed.”

The Rat King laughs maniacally.

#

The entire Mutanimals crew sans Pete and Raphael arrive at the Rat King’s lair, having traced the unusual rodent activity to this location. Ray breaks the lock on the door and the group enters into a dark hallway. Donnie pulls out his phone and regards the blueprints of the building on his screen.

“This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to be a hall. It’s supposed to be—” Donnie turns on his phone’s flashlight and aims it at the walls, revealing large swarms of rodents.

The groups lets out a harsh scream as the rats all pounce on them. The group jumps into action—Hob, Sally and Ray each shooting the rodents with their guns as Ray suppresses a gag and the turtles and Mondo all whack and slice at the vermin with their respective weapons. The rats cling to Donnie’s bo staff, scurrying up to engulf him. Mikey’s nunchaku get pulled from his grasp as he’s buried by the pests. Mondo’s skateboard gets bit in half as he too is pulled down.

The Mutanimals all fall swiftly, even Slash—the biggest among them—and Ray’s gag can no longer be suppressed as he loses his lunch under the horde of rodents. Leo manages to make the biggest dent in the swarm, slicing many of them in half before he’s jumped from behind and pulled down into a pile of scurrying flea-bitten fur. He tries to dig himself out, looking up at the rafters where his father lurks in the shadows, looking down upon them with a blank expression.

“Father! Help me! PLEASE!”

Splinter continues to watch as his family born and family found are swallowed whole by the mob of pests.

#

Moments later, the group awakens on their knees, hands bound behind them as the Rat King plays his flute upon his throne of rat-gnawed bones. Splinter stands resolute at his right hand side as they squirm, trying to break free of their bindings.

“Dad! Sensei, help us!” Mikey cries out.

“It’s no use, Mikey. The Rat King has him at his mercy. There’s nothing we can do to break the mind control,” Leo says.

“Nothing at all,” Rat King says, putting away his flute. “No amount of begging, pleading, or emotional outpour will get through to this,” Rat King grabs Splinter’s head with both hands, “thick rodent skull.”

“Not what every TV show, movie, or comic book I’ve ever read says.”

“Mikey those are fiction,” Donnie says.

“Besides, how much media could you have possibly consumed?” Leo asks. “You’ve only been watching TV and movies or whatever for like a month now.”

“And whose fault is that, Mr. Keep-Your-Family-Isolated-From-the-Entire-Outside-World?” Donnie asks.

“Really? You’re still mad about—” Leo says.

Hob whistles. “Hey, kids, bigger problems right now. You can bicker about this later.”

“Assuming there is a later,” Ray says, shuddering as a rat scampers over his knee.

“Oh, you should definitely be worried, cat,” Rat King says, “especially since your kind have been preying upon my brethren for millennia now. And now under my control, the rodents of New York shall have their revenge!”

Eyes of rodents open bright and red all along the walls, showcasing the vast rodent army the Rat King has amassed, squeaking in agreeance with their king.

“Really?” Donnie asks.

“What?” Rat King asks.

“I mean, seriously? Revenge against cats and exterminators? Is that seriously your end goal here? Seems kind of mid, not going to lie.”

“You want him to do worse?” Mondo asks.

“Oh, I have worse planned than that, I assure you. I’m simply taking care of the simpler tasks on my to-do list first. Start small, you know. Eliminating basic threats first, taking over the world and reshaping it in my image later.” Rat King fluffs what little hair he has on his balding head.

“And what a horrible image that is,” Sally mutters.

“Hey, can we not anger the guy with an army of rats plus Splinter at his disposal? I really don’t want to get buried again,” Ray whispers before shuddering in disgust as the walls of rat undulate under the horde’s movement.

“Wimp.”

“Ah, Miss Pride, do I detect a volunteer for my first round of vengeance upon the feline species?”

“Okay, first off, I’m a lioness, we aren’t exactly known for eating small pathetic vermin like you. Second, nobody’s volunteering for jack shit.”

“Oh, come on.” Rat King pouts. “I really want to get this town’s to-dos taken care of in a swift and organized manner before moving on to bigger and better things.”

“What’s better than New York?” Mikey asks.

“Absolutely nothing,” Mondo answers.

“You said you’re leaving after you’re done here?” Leo asks.

“Of course. Can’t very well take over the world until I have every rat, mouse, and various rodent on Earth under my command. New York’s rat population is immense but even it has its limits. I’ll move from city to city until the rodents of every major metropolitan is under my dominion and I shall unleash them like a plague unto the world lest every world leader grovel at my feet begging for mercy from the pestilence my beauties could unleash. And if any of those worthless humans try to do my pretty pets in—Well,” Rat King gestures to Yoshi, “I have Splinter here to eliminate whatever meager threat the human race can provide. He’s already been so useful in dispatching several of New York’s finest exterminators and ‘pest control specialists’.”

“Do you really think you’re going to get away with this?” Leo asks.

“Of course. The only ones who know of my plan are you miserable little pests. And the only ones with enough power to even hope of thwarting my plans are either far far away or have no idea I’m even in town.”

“Are you sure about that?” Leo asks with a smirk.

“Of course I’m—” Rat King starts to say until a rat interrupts him, squeaking in his ear. “What? One of my spies hasn’t—Are you sure?”

Another squeak and Rat King turns on Leo with a sinister glare. He crosses the room with inhuman speed and grabs the tails of Leo’s mask, pulling him roughly toward him. The Rat King stares deep into Leonardo’s eyes as the turtles stares up at him with hate.

“A dark stain upon your soul,” the Rat King says. “And is that—no, it can’t be.”

The Rat King releases Leo, pulling back in laughter.

“Oh, I don’t know what’s funnier, you being just a mere pawn in my dear sister’s game or that your eyes speak volumes to the ignorance of the power you possess.”

“Power?” Leo asks.

“Sister?” Mikey questions.

“Oh yes, I think I’ll start my conquest of New York by having Splinter eliminate you, little dragon, for I can allow you to live not a moment longer.”

“Good luck with that.” Leo breaks free of his ropes using the same dislocated thumb trick he used in Stockman’s lab barely a month ago and swipes a leg under the Rat King’s feet.

Rat King falls onto his rear, dissolving into rats before reforming back upon his throne. He points at Leo and yells for Splinter and his other rodents to attack. Leo quickly frees the others with a knife and grabs their weapons from across the room.

“How’d you do that? Even Slash couldn’t break those ropes,” Hob asks.

“Don’t know,” Leo admits. “Never had a problem cutting through stuff before. Let’s move!”

“What about dad?” Mikey asks.

“We’ll save him after we get out of the building. We can’t fight in closed quarters like this,” Donnie yells, grabbing his little brother by the wrist and dragging him outside.

As the others retreat out the door, Sally grabs Hob’s flask from him and a pair of grenades off her belt and tosses all three objects at two support columns, exploding quickly and bringing the roof down on top of them as the alcohol in the flask helps set the building on fire, raining flame down upon the rodents. The group reconvenes outside and catch their breath.

“What were you thinking?!” Hob yells at Sally.

“I was thinking we needed to take out some of those rats if we wanted any chance of surviving this.”

“Splinter was in there!”

“Dad!” Leo shouts as Rat King emerges, holding Splinter’s limp body, coated in burns and bruises from the building’s collapse.

Rat King drops Splinter to the ground, his eyes glowing even brighter red than before.

“You are my knight. I forbid you to die!” Rat King stomps on Splinter’s chest, willing him to live again as Splinter rises to his feet like a marionette on strings, the injuries healing almost immediately.

Splinter cracks his neck, still under the control of the Rat King, who smiles viciously at the heroes.

“Now,” Rat King says, “where were we?”

#

Back at home, Pete makes various inane gestures. One moment a gesture like playing a trumpet. The next Pete stomping around on all fours. One gesture involves holding his arm out past his face as he bends over a glass of water, his fingertips grazing the surface of the water as Pete makes slurping noises that Raphael is sure goes against the rules of this game. The next, holding his index talons against either corner of his beak, dangling down like fangs or maybe tusks.

Raph knows the answer is an elephant. He doesn’t give a shit. Not while his family is out there risking their lives to bring Splinter home after Raphael lost him to that creep with the glowing red eyes and freaky rat crown.

It’s not his fault. He knows it isn’t. At least the logical part of his brain knows this. The larger emotional side still feels responsible, like he could’ve done more to protect his other father from harm. He helped protect Hob during the Mutant Revolution after all. Why couldn’t he protect Splinter now? Raphael groans, both from guilt and from misery as he suffers through Pete’s forced game of charades, burying his face in his hands.

“Come on, Red, you know you can’t play charades if you can’t see what I’m doing,” Pete says.

“That’s why I’m not looking,” Raph mutters. “Ugh. Can’t I just go help the others? I’ll be fine.”

“No you won’t. Hob’s orders. I’m supposed to look after you and make sure you don’t get hurt. You already have a concussion.”

“No I don’t! I have a bruise on the back of my head sure, but I’m fine. My head’s fine.”

“You were knocked out after suffering a head wound. That’s called a concussion.”

“No, that’s getting a bruise and then being strangled until your lungs lose enough oxygen to make you pass out. I’m fine, Pete. Honest.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still in charge of you right now so you just have to suck it up and—”

“And what? Pete?” Raph asks with a scoff until he takes note of the blank expression on Pete’s face, eyes a stark white leaving not even his pupils visible. “Pete, are you okay?”

He leaps off the couch and waves a hand in front of the pigeon’s face.

“Pete are you there? Talk to me.”

Pete brushes past him, walking toward the exit.

“Hey, Pete, where are you going?”

Raph follows Pete out the door into the ruins of the Bronx Zoo. Pete turns to Raph, eyes still as blank as the starless New York sky.

“Peter will be fine,” Pete says in a voice that is not entirely his own.

“What the—”

“You need not worry. I only need to borrow him for a moment. I will return him once the Rat King has been dealt with.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Raph says, grabbing Pete by the winged arm. “You aren’t taking Pete any—"

Pete shrugs him off and in a movement too swift and precise for Pete to ever have done so on his own, Pete’s mind-controlled body performs a sweeping jump kick, batting Raphael to the ground. Pete then turns away and takes flight into the night sky.

Raphael rushes back to the lair and races to the garage, plopping a helmet onto his head as he hops on his motorcycle and races after Pete, following him as best he can on street-level when Pete has no real limitations on where he can fly. He’s already lost Splinter today. He isn’t willing to lose Pete to a mind-controlling creep too.

#

At the Rat King’s warehouse lair, the Mutanimals are being overrun by hordes of rats. Gunshots and bazookas have minimal effect upon the rodents but the turtles’ ninjitsu has virtually none as they keep swatting the furry pests away. Mikey bats a few away with his nunchaku only for his weapon to be wrested from his grip on the backswing as a mind-controlled Splinter disarms him and swats Mikey’s gut with his tail.

Mikey collapses to the ground, cowering in fear of his own father as the tall rat pulls out a pair of kunai and flings them at him. Mikey flinches behind his arm, confused only a moment later when the weapons make no impact. He looks up to find Leo has caught both kunai barehanded. Leo then attacks Splinter with a leaping kick, knocking his father to the ground.

“Stay down, father,” Leonardo says, unsheathing his swords once more. “If you won’t break the Rat King’s hold over you then I will stop at nothing, not even

ending

your life, if it means protecting my brothers

from

you.”

Splinter ignores the warning and gets up, pulling out two pairs of shuriken and launching them at Leo’s head. He deflects the weapons with his blades and charges at his dad.

“He knows death threats aren’t likely to get through to him anymore than emotional pleading, right?” Donnie asks Mikey, swatting away an incoming flux of rats with his bo staff.

“I don’t think that was a threat, D,” Mikey says in a worried tone.

“What? Of course it was! Right, Leo?”

Leo jumps up, grabbing the end of a chain attached to a nearby crane and uses it to swing around and kick Splinter with enough force to send him flying across the lot.

“Threat implies I won’t go through with it if absolutely necessary,” Leo says.

“Okay, I feel like you’re both misunderstanding the definition of threat and the distinction of empty versus true threat.”

Splinter gets back into the fray, racing past Hob to go for his sons once again. Leo readies his swords as Mikey’s eyes dart between him and Splinter in wide-eyed panic. Mikey charges between them, hoping to keep Leo from hurting their dad when suddenly Pete swoops in from the sky, tackling Splinter to the ground. The overgrown pigeon lands on Splinter’s chest and pins him down before screeching in his face.

“Pete what are you—” Hob starts to ask, cut off as Raphael arrives via motorcycle.

“He’s mind-controlled!” Raph rips the helmet off his head and tosses it aside. “One minute he was forcing me to play charades and then the next—"

“Let him go, Rat King! Let them both go! Now!” Hob roars.

Rat King backs away, slightly trembling as he shakes his head, mouth agape in horror.

“That’s not my doing,” he whispers.

A normal pigeon coos from atop the crane, several more alighting along its surface. More birds of varying species—owl, hawk, blue jay, falcon, vulture, etc—flock in, settling upon any and every surface they can until the entire lot is surrounded and the battles has stilled, the rats stalling in their movements as their king cowers under the many beady eyes of New York’s bird population.

Rat King tries to control Splinter to throw Pete off to no avail. Pete simply punches Splinter square in the jaw, rendering him unconscious. Pete straightens out and lifts a hand, bringing it down like an anvil sentencing the executions of Rat King’s entire rodent swarm as the birds swoop in at once, plucking rat after rat, mouse after mouse from the ground to be feasted upon at a later time by the carnivorous birds. Pete turns his glowing white eyes upon the Rat King who stumbles back under the pigeon’s gaze.

“Hamato Yoshi is not yours to control, little brother,” Pete says in that two-toned voice. “He is under my protection.”

“In his past life maybe, but we both know he is not the first of your charges to fall from your dominion,” Rat King says.

“Maybe so, but that one’s fall was of their own willing volition. Yoshi, Splinter, whatever you may call him is not willing to fall in line like one of your tiny soldiers.”

“He’s a rat! His life is mine for the taking! Mine to claim and control! MINE!”

“I am the oldest. I am the wisest. I am the favorite of the Dragon’s children,” Pete says, inching closer and closer to the Rat King with every step. “Do I not still hold the power… of dibs?”

“But—”

“Release him! NOW!” Pete roars, the dual voice echoing in the night as the creepoid falls onto his ass, trembling from the terrifying presence Pigeon Pete exudes.

Rat King’s eyes scan the area, finding nearly every one of his pets has been taken by the birds and made a meal of. With a quivering lip, he reluctantly snaps his fingers, breaking his hold over Splinter. Pete looks down at him with eyes still a blank void of white.

“Will you stay out trouble now, little brother?” Pete asks, still under the influence of another.

The corner of Rat King’s lips quirk in a lopsided grin. “Oh, sister, you should know better than that.”

What few rats remain of the Rat King’s army scurry around him, dissolving his essence into their swarm as they scatter into the night.

Leo approaches Pete with his sword drawn. Pete turns to him.

“Still a troubled youth, I see. I am disappointed Ryu.”

“My name is Leonardo now,” Leo says eyes narrowing at Pete, “Aka.”

“If you say so,” Pete says before stumbling, eyes flashing back to their usual orange, holding his head to steady himself.

“Whoa. What happened? How’d I get here?” Pete looks over Leo’s shoulder. “Is Splinter okay?”

“Let’s get him home. Been a long day and he’ll need to rest after all this shit,” Hob says, picking Splinter up in a bridal carry.

#

At the Mutanimals’ home, Splinter awakens in the medbay, clutching his throbbing head with one hand. He sits up, groaning from the pain made only worse by the bright lights of the room.

“What happened?” he asks.

“That creepo Rat King mind-controlled you,” Hob says.

“Yes, I know that. He made me kill some exterminators. What happened after that? What did you do to free me?”

“Wasn’t us. It was Pete, he—” Donnie starts.

“It wasn’t Pete,” Raph says. “He was being controlled too, by some other person. The Rat King’s sister I think they said.”

“Aka,” Leo adds, looking his father square in the eye. “It was Aka.”

“Ah, I see. That explains the Rat King’s origin,” Splinter says.

“It does?” Ray asks.

“Aka is a demigod. The eldest child of the last dragon of Earth. She and her siblings are immortal beings with powers unimaginable. Among them is influence over the types of animals most closely related to their souls.”

“In English, please?” Sally asks.

“It is kind of like a spirit animal thing. Rat King can control rats because his spirit animal is a rat. Aka can control birds because hers is a bird.”

“Please tell me they don’t have a sibling related to cats,” Hob says.

“I believe Aka once mentioned ages ago that she had a sister who was associated with felines—” Splinter says.

Hob and Sally groan in unison.

“But from what I gather, her sister is very much a loner. I doubt you will have to worry about her.”

“No, but Pete and you both have to worry,” Raph says.

“I have to worry. Pete does not.”

“Yeah, it’s like I told you guys. Being controlled by Aka felt like being wrapped in a warm hug and fed the richest homemade comfort food ever.” Pete hugs himself. “I think she’s friendly.”

“Yeah, spoken like someone who’s still being mind-controlled.”

“Raphael, Aka is an old family friend,” Splinter says. “I assure you, she means us no harm.”

Leo’s cellphone rings. He answers it and listens closely for a minute before hanging up.

“That was work. Boss wants a word with me.”

“I shall go with you. I still wish to meet this mysterious employer of yours considering a Google search of Lucky Fox Industries told me nothing about them beyond the company dealing in technology.”

“Jealous?” Mikey whispers to Donatello who quickly jabs him in the arm.

Splinter tries to get up from the medical bed only for Leo to push him back down.

“No, you’re staying here. You got hurt pretty bad tonight. You almost died. You have to stay here and rest. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

Leo turns and leaves, heading out of the Mutanimals’ lair and down the street, unaware of Hob following him from the shadows. Leo turns down a dark alley and Hob races over to catch up. As Hob turns the corner he sees the alley leads to a dead end and is completely empty. He sniffs at the air, ears perked listening for any minute sounds of Leo’s presence.

“Nothing,” Hob mutters to himself, scratching his head. “Where the hell did he go?”

#

Leo emerges from the mystic shadows into the Foot Clan’s headquarters where Kitsune awaits him. She shuts off the magic connecting the shadowy corner of their lair to every other shadow in New York and motions for Leonardo to take a seat across from her. She lights an incense stick and sets in the holder between them. The light from it and the pair of candles sitting on the opposite end of the tea tray is all that illuminates the room. Kitsune’s gaze remains downcast as she pours two cups of tea. One for her and one for Leo, the latter patiently waiting for her to speak. It is always strange to see her without her fox mask but it is becoming more common lately.

“The rats of New York are behaving properly again. Wild and free just as they are meant to.” Kitsune finally meets his eyes. “Well done, Leonardo. However did you manage that?”

She hands him a teacup and brings her own to her lips, sipping gently as the rouge on her lips stains the rim.

“It wasn’t me, Mistress. Your sister, Aka is the one who saved the day. She convinced the Rat King to release his hold over my father and based on your assessment of the other rats in New York, has sent him packing. Though I doubt this will be the last we see of him.”

Leo sips his tea as Kitsune sets her own cup down with a sour expression, though Leo doubted it was due to the taste.

“Trust that it won’t be. My brother is a finicky pest. And my sister—Ugh. I didn’t even know she was

in

New York. But no matter,” Kitsune waves a dismissive hand picking up her tea once more, “Aka is old and frail no matter her power or influence. She cannot hope to threaten the empire our clan is building here.” She takes another sip. “Thank you, though, for alerting me to her presence. It is useful information, very useful. You are dismissed, Chunin. Go be with your father. I am sure he has had a long day and could use your support. But do let me know if he starts behaving irrationally again.”

Leo sets his tea down, rises to his feet and bows to her.

“Yes, Mistress. I’ll keep an eye on him and the rest of the rodents in this city in case your brother decides to rear his ugly head again.”

With that, Leo turns back into the shadows and takes his leave.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Leo demonstrates a series of ninjutsu moves for the Foot Clan’s latest recruits. His movements are flawless. His students? Not so much. One actually falls on their backside trying to get their leg high enough. Leo just sighs, shaking his head. When he signed the mystic contract with Kitsune to work for the Foot, he didn’t imagine that he’d have to train anybody. Though he supposes it is better than killing semi-innocent people. Most of his victims, being politicians, judges, and cops means they aren’t wholly innocent, several being actively corrupt. Karai enters the room, earning a bow from the recruits who recognize her rank and have been trained to be respectful of those above them, if nothing else. Karai looks to Leo, nods her head toward the door and turns back. “If you want me to do something, I’d appreciate if you would use your words, Third Rank.” One recruit starts to ooh only for the one beside him to jab him in the gut as it is entirely disrespectful to Karai even if he is following the Chunin’s lead. “The masters require our presence in the War Room. Come or don’t. It’s your decision. Just don’t blame me if you go against Master Shredder’s orders.” Leo turns to the recruits and bows as a dismissal of their lesson. They bow in return before Leo follows Karai out of the training room. The pair arrive at the War Room and take their seats on pillows around a low table with a map of New York City laying upon its surface. Shredder and Kitsune sit opposite them. “What’s this about, Masters?” Leo asks. “Baxter Stockman,” Shredder says. “Given his abduction of you both—especially in spite of an unauthorized deal made with him—he has made himself an enemy of the highest order.” “Agreed,” Karai and Leo say in unison, much to both their chagrins. Karai groans in disgust and turns back to her ancestor who is glaring daggers at her. “What?” she asks. “You got yourself into the mess that you did. Leonardo bailed you out, despite you putting not only himself but also his family in danger. You should be lucky he agrees with you on something rather than taking such issue with it given you owe him your life.” “Karai has already learned her lesson, something which I myself personally saw to if you do not recall. Besides Stockman’s betrayal should serve as plenty punishment as well,” Kitsune says. “Let us move on. Preferably to the topic of Stockman’s lab tech, Chet Allen. His technology intrigues me. Leonardo, has your reconnaissance mission turned up anything?” “No, Mistress. Though I’ve been observing him every night since my family’s abduction, I have yet to find anything more regarding his unknown technology or his motives behind working for Stockman. Furthermore, his home security is even more heavily fortified than TCRI and Stockman’s own home combined. I’ve never seen anything like it.” “How about that? Someone even more paranoid about their safety than you are,” Karai remarks. Biting back a retort, Leo continues, “The only thing I can be certain of is that his technology is years ahead of anything his employer has in his own arsenal.” “Are you saying this Chet Allen is a greater threat than Stockman?” Shredder asks. “I doubt it. He keeps to himself. No friends, barely interacts at work. His entire focus just seems to be fixated on Stockman and his work at TCRI. I don’t think he has any reason to quarrel with us. If anything his opposition to Stockman’s alleged benefactor may make him a potential ally in the war against Baxter Stockman.” “Let’s not be hasty to forge new alliances. Until we know more about this man, we have no way of knowing if he truly is a friend or merely another enemy of our own foe. However, this recon mission will have to be shelved. Baxter Stockman is the priority here. Until he is dealt with, I see no reason to waste our time on some lab technician. You are to cease observations, Leonardo. Is that understood?” Leo glances at Kitsune who gives the subtlest of nods. “Yes, Master Shredder. What is our next move?” “Now that a few weeks have passed since our last encounter with Stockman, his guard will no doubt be lowered. He’ll be vulnerable to an attack. However, he’d easily see an army coming and I have no interest in wasting our men to act as cannon fodder to eliminate one man, no matter how bothersome he may be. I think a mere two-person team would be best in executing him. Given you two are my best students—” “You want me to work with him?!” Karai screeches, jumping to her feet and pointing at Leo is disbelief. “Are you serious?!” “KARAI!” Shredder roars. She startles and kneels back onto the floor, head bowed in shame for her disrespect. “Apologies, Master.” “Master Shredder,” Leo says. “While I agree with the concept in theory, in practice it has already been proven that Stockman and his resources make for a formidable opponent for us both. He kidnapped us both once already. What is to stop him from doing so a second time?” “Because this time you will not be working against each other, but with each other. You two have your conflicts to be certain but so long as you both act in service of your shared master and avoid any backstabbing, I am certain you have what it takes for the two of you to take him out together.” “And while you are at it, perhaps you could ransack TCRI for anything resembling Chet’s robot?” Kitsune suggests. “If you have the time.” “I thought we settled this,” Saki says. “The technology may be useful but Baxter Stockman is what matters here.” “But it does not have to be the only thing that matters. Furthermore, Stockman is a scientist, perhaps not on the same level as Mr. Allen but a scientist nonetheless. Perhaps if we kidnap Stockman instead of killing him, we could use him to dissect the robot and—what do they call it these days—reverse engineer the technology?” “You’re suggesting we keep Baxter alive and give him access to even more advanced technology in the hopes that he’ll help us instead of using that access to further stab us in the back?” Karai asks. “First name basis with the enemy, Karai?” Leo teases. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t see the flaws with my grandmother’s plan.” “How I feel is irrelevant. Unlike some people my loyalty is unwavering.” “That is true,” Shredder says. “However, your loyalty is more to Kitsune than it is to me. While Karai and I would both rather eliminate Stockman swiftly, my wife would prefer to keep him around for scientific reasons. And you? You would vote with her on this matter, wouldn’t you? Regardless of your actual thoughts on the subject.” Shredder regards Leonardo for a long tense moment, his eyes narrowed at the turtle. “We had previously agreed on killing Stockman. However, I see now that that agreement was only a temporary indulgence, was it not, beloved?” Saki asks his immortal wife. “Technically all that was agreed upon was that Leonardo would no longer observe the lowly lab tech known as Chet Allen. Nothing was agreed upon regarding Baxter Stockman’s continued or halted status of life.” Shredder sighs and turns to his pupils. “This conversation is at a standstill. Until Kitsune and I can come to some sort of understanding nothing more is to be done regarding Stockman or his lab tech. Understood?” “Yes, Master Shredder,” Karai and Leo say in unison. “Dismissed.” The pair leave their masters to continue their debate in private and go about their separate ways, Leonardo returning to teach the new recruits and Karai heading to the communal lobby for the elite Foot members. There she finds Koya and Bludgeon, a mutant falcon and hammerhead shark respectively talking around the water cooler. “Karai, did you need something?” Koya asks as Karai approaches. “I have a mission for you. You two are to eliminate Baxter Stockman by any means necessary. Is that understood?” “Yes, ma’am,” the mutant pair say. “Excellent,” Karai says with a smile. “Get to it then.” #In class the following morning, Mikey sits at his desk, determined to behave appropriately. The last several classes have all gotten comments on his SGC about how he doesn’t sit still or pay attention. So he sits as still as can be. His hands lay flat on the desk, his feet resting motionless against the ground. His eyes stay glued to the projection at the front of the class. He feels the urge to tap his foot but suppresses it, willing his knee to stay strong and remain in place. But his body fights him, desperately needing to do something, anything. He starts chewing the inside of his cheek to get some motion in him to relief the tension, then starts grinding his teeth, all while not taking his eyes off the teacher in front of him. “Michelangelo?” the teacher asks. “Hm? I mean, yes, Mrs. Chesley?” “Did you hear the question?” “I—I…” Sighing, he hangs his head. “No, Mrs. Chesley.” Crap! He was so focused on sitting still and behaving he forgot to pay real attention to the lesson. His eyes may have been on target but they weren’t registering anything. His mind was too restricted and he lost track of everything else. How do normal people do this?! Normal. He was normal. No matter what the teachers said, Hamato Michelangelo was normal. He didn’t have ADHD and he wasn’t deficient or had a disorder. He was just the same as everyone else and he would prove it. After class lets out, Mondo pats him on the shoulder as they walk to their next lesson—art class. “So, Mikester, what had you all stiff back there earlier? I don’t even think you were blinking. Sidenote, remind me never to have a staring contest with you.” “I’m just, uh,” Mikey says, searching for an excuse so his friend doesn’t worry about him, “tired. You know because of the whole Rat King incident a few days ago. Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.” “I guess so. Seeing your dad mind controlled like that can’t have been easy, but this—this feels like something else, dude. You sure you’re okay?” “Of course I’m okay. I’m better than okay, but you know still within the normal standards of okayness not like in the excessive or deficient ranges of… um…” He trails off as Mondo stares at him with a look of concern in his eyes. “Pssh. Hey don’t worry about it.” Mikey shoves Mondo playfully with a forced grin. “Everything’s fine, man. Now come on, we’re gonna be late and Art’s my best subject.” “You go ahead. I’m gonna catch Raph real quick. He seemed worried about you about a week ago and I figure maybe he has some idea on what’s going on with you since you clearly don’t seem to be in the sharing mood,” Mondo says before darting down the hall. “You don’t have to—And he’s gone.” Mikey groans and turns back toward the art room. As he walks through the halls his feet catch on something, sending him tumbling to the ground as his least favorite classmates laugh at him. “Hey, watch where you’re going, Space Cadet!” Josh says. “Space Cadet? I’ve never been to space,” Mikey mutters. “Coulda fooled us, Mr. Head in the Clouds,” Kevin says. “Yeah. You’re so spacy it’s hard to believe you even got a brain.” “Must be broken.” “I’m not broken!” Mikey shouts. “Ooh, chill out, hothead. We’re just joshing you because you can’t seem to focus on anything,” Josh says. “Ha, Joshing. Good one, bro.” Kevin high-fives his fellow ne’er-do-well. “Too much focus, not enough, why can’t I just freaking get it right?” Mikey mutters under his breath, face red with embarrassment. “Aw, is the little freak talking to himself?” Kevin asks in a mocking tone. “Dude must be, cuckoo, cuckoo,” Josh says, swirling a finger beside his head. “What?” Mikey asks. “Ya know, cuckoo? Not right in the head? Crazy? Insa—” “I’M NOT CRAZY!” Mikey screams, punching Kevin in the face, dropping him to the ground like a fly. Josh, the larger of the two bullies, pulls his fist back and swings at Mikey who catches the hit and flips him over his shoulder into the lockers. Josh lands with a hard bang as the PE teacher Mrs. Gastroni rounds the corner. “Mr. Hamato!” she roars. “Oh shit,” Mikey says. “To the principal’s office. Now!” Mrs. Gastroni says, writing him a detention slip as he passes by, head hung in shame. “Does this mean I have to talk to the guidance counselor again?” Mikey asks. “Again? Ha, knew you were crazy,” Josh says, rubbing the back of his head where it collided with the locker doors. Mikey raises a fist but Mrs. Gastroni shoves it down and points him down the hall to the front offices. “March!” she demands before turning to the bullies to check their injuries. #With a final tightening of the crews, Baxter Stockman completes the prototype for a new form of cybernetic super soldier—the Flyborg. A common housefly mutated and enhanced with cyborg body parts including mechanical limbs that increase its strength a thousand-fold and half of its face encased in a computerized display panel, relaying constant information to the bug such as infrared and x-ray data and alerting it to anything it might miss when viewing at its natural 360-degrees. He even found upon the bug’s mutation that it naturally has acidic spit which will come in handy on missions. And with the head console also operating as a mind control device, this marvel of biotechnical engineering is entirely under his command! Well, his and General Krang’s. Why the mysterious general of the epically tiny nation of Burnow Island would want cyborg mutant soldiers, Stockman had no idea. Other than himself no outsider had ever set foot upon the island’s land and lived to tell the tale. In fact, as far as he could tell, the general was the sole inhabitant of the isolated nation. He’s considered that the general is planning a hostile takeover of some other country or perhaps continent, of course he has. Hence the reason he’s implanted the Flyborg and all the other inventions he’s sent over to Burnow with a self-destruct feature that can be activated by Stockman either via remote, voice command, a program that will activate it if he doesn’t input a code to reset the timer every day, or via his death. Never hurts to be thorough when dealing with a general of inhuman strength with technology almost more advanced than his own. He’d say it was more advanced with absolute certainty. He wasn’t that arrogant. However, the fact the general relied so heavily on his designs left him with two conclusions—either the general’s tech wasn’t as advanced as it seemed at first glance, or whomever made Krang’s equipment was no longer under his employ. He tends to lean toward the latter theory, though whether the former scientist was no longer employed due to—for lack of a better term—creative differences, or due to the scientist’s death was uncertain. No matter. Baxter Stockman was not fool enough to be caught unawares by Krang. He’d survive their tenuous partnership, especially so long as the general kept supplying him with the funding for his research, especially into the odd fungal specimen he acquired on his first expedition to Burnow, back before he knew it was inhabited. The fungus intrigued him as it had never been documented before and indeed seemed alien in origin. Unlike all other lifeforms on Earth, the fungus was not carbon-based but rather based on some unknown element, one that much like the fungus itself had never been recorded before by the human race. This oddity of Burnow Island tends to make him speculate on General Krang’s own origins and whether his unnatural strength is also out of this world. But the thing he wonders most often is whether finding this fungus was worth it. He may have gained much in the way of the mutagen he synthesized from it and the mutagenic isotope known as ooze. However, he lost a lot the day he returned home with it as well. Baxter Stockman was no fool. Not since that day. Never again. He would never again be caught with his pants down. It is during this reflection on his past that Koya and Bludgeon smash through the windows of his laboratory. “Knock, knock, egghead,” the mutant hammerhead shark says with a toothy grin. He stumbles back, grabbing the remote control for the Flyborg and his schematics for the prototype before activating its attack mode. The Flyborg pounces on the two mutants. Koya grabs it by the throat and slams it to the floor only for it to spit up at her, scorching her wing. She releases it in pain as the Flyborg gets back up and sprays more acid toward Bludgeon who dodges the attack and grabs a dissection tray to use as a shield. Meanwhile Baxter makes his escape, taking a container of flies along with him in his retreat. The Foot Clan has sent some of their best mutant warriors to eliminate him. About time. He was starting to question the threat the supposedly fierce ninja clan actually posed. I mean really, a mere scientist was able to get the better of both the infamous Chunin and one of the highest ranked ninja among them and they don’t even retaliate for weeks? It’s laughable to be frank. Luckily, he’s prepared for this. He has everything he needs to create more Flyborg soldiers and with a spare workshop tucked away in a little hidden corner of New York, he’ll be able to make a small army to defend himself against the ninja. Hm. This might even prove fortuitous as a demonstration of the Flyborgs’ potential use for Krang. It’s only a shame the Mutanimals were not involved in this debacle. He created these semi-organic mutant beings mostly in order for his creations to garner sympathy and pity from people like the Mutanimals who would see his Flyborgs as twisted tragic victims and hesitate to fight them. Oh well. An army’s an army. #April and Donnie recount their domination in a game of PE dodgeball at the group’s usual table in the school cafeteria when Mikey finally joins the rest of them. He drops his tray onto the table with a harsh clatter and slumps over his seat with a sour expression, shoulders tense as he eats. “Uh, what’s wrong with you?” Leo asks. “Nothing’s wrong with me! I’m totally NORMAL!” Mikey screams, practically leaping out of his seat to shout at his older brother from across the table. Across the lunchroom, Josh and Kevin snicker and toss a wadded up ball of paper at the back of Mikey’s head. He growl at them, raising his fist until he catches the eye of Mrs. Gastroni and drops back down into his seat with disgruntled muttering as he stuffs his face with the sorry excuse for meatloaf. “Ugh, those guys,” Raph says. “You know them?” Leo asks. “Josh and Kevin, the school’s resident bullies. And I’m guessing they’ve decided our little brother is their newest victim. Mondo, did you know about this?” “I’ve tried to keep their interactions at a minimum—” “Minimum? That’s not good enough.” Leo rises from his chair and stomps over to where the bullies are sitting before Mikey can tell him not to intervene. He pulls the bullies in close and whispers something in their ears before turning back to rejoin his brothers, April, and Mondo. Meanwhile, Josh and Kevin’s faces both pale as if all the blood had drained out of them in an instant and they hurriedly grab their desserts and those of the neighboring kids at their table and rush over to Mikey, dumping pudding cups and crumbly tarts onto his tray. “We’re sorry!” Kevin yelps. “We’ll never bother you again!” Josh adds. “Promise!” “That’s a cool sweatshirt by the way!” Kevin whimpers, gesturing to the oversized bright orange sweatshirt Mikey is wearing. The bullies give him double thumbs up before running out of the cafeteria, leaving Mikey staring off in their direction. “What the fuck did you say to them?” Mikey asks Leo, slowly turning to face him. “Language, Michael,” Leo says, blatantly ignoring the question as he returns to his lunch. “This is school. There are rules here you know.” “Uh-uh. Answer the question, Leon .” Sighing, Leo says, “I basically told them if they ever bothered you again in even the slightest way possible I would kill them in a very cruel, painful, and specific way that I’d rather not share while everyone at this table still wants to keep their meals inside their stomachs.” “Pfft, yeah right. You’re all talk, but you don’t have a violent bone in your body, Mr. Mother Hen,” April says. “Mother hen?” Leo asks. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Wiping your brothers’ faces when they get messy, fussing over Raph when he nearly gets himself hurt in woodshop, making sure Mikey always has his inhaler on him.” “Speaking of, Mikey, do you have it on you? Your face is turning red. Can you breathe okay?” “Mother hen,” April mutters under her breath. “I can breathe just fine! I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Leo!” “Judging by the black eye that one guy had and the detention slip poking out of your pocket, I’m guessing you already tried to fight your own battle and got in trouble for it,” Donnie says, earning a withering glare from Michelangelo as he shoves the detention slip deeper into his pocket. Mondo, however, reaches in a snatches it, lurching away from him in order to read it. “Detention for a week! Physical abuse—Dude, did you really punch him? When did this happen?” “Right after you left to go tattle on me having trouble to Raph.” Mikey tears the detention slip out of Mondo’s hand and shoves it back in his sweatshirt. “Aren’t you supposed to be responsible for my little brother’s well-being, Mondo?” Leo asks, glaring daggers at the young gecko. “Hey, only so much a guy can do when your dad isn’t stepping up. Mikey’s gotten so many notes on his SGC I’m surprised none of you have stepped in sooner.” “SGC? The student guidance thing? Mikey, how much trouble have you been getting into?” Leo asks. “Mondo?” “Don’t look at me. I don’t have access to it. Your dad does. Hob too but Mikey’s not his kid so he’s been leaving this kind of stuff to Splinter.” “Yeah, father isn’t exactly well-versed in technology like this. I doubt he even knows how to access Mikey’s SGC records,” Donnie says. “He doesn’t have to see my SGC! The SGC is stupid and dumb and stupid—” Mikey stabs his spork into his food. “You said stupid twice,” Leo says. “Yeah, well, who asked you?” Mikey shouts, picking up his tray and storming off. “Dang. Is he always like this?” April asks. “Nah, he’s usually pretty chipper. Though I have noticed his mood souring since he started attending school,” Donnie says. “Which is proof that this school thing was a bad idea and that people outside of our family are a threat if Josh and Kevin are any example,” Leo says. “They’re not,” April says. “I’m going to talk to Splinter again. See if he’d be willing to reconsider our enrollment here.” “That is completely unnecessary, Leo!” Donnie yells. “Mikey but be having trouble but the rest of us are doing okay. I for one love school! History, math, science , classic literature. What’s not to love?” “Uh the food?” Leo asks, picking up a goopy portion of his meatloaf with his spork, the meat slopping back down onto the tray. “Still better than Pete’s goulash,” Raph says. The entire table sans-April shudders at the memory of the dinner Pete made for them only two days prior. “Look, the problem with Mikey isn’t school It’s the bullies, and you already dealt with them, right? So no more problem,” Raph says to Leo. “I shouldn’t have had to deal with them in the first place!” Leo says. “You’re both wrong,” Mondo says. “Sure Josh and Kevin are jerks but they’re not the problem here.” “Pretty sure bullies are always a problem, Monds,” April says. “And I’m not saying they’re not a problem . I’m saying they’re not the problem .” “Then what do you think’s got Mikey so hot and bothered lately?” Donnie asks. “Whatever it is, the answer’s gotta be in his SGC. The teacher sent him to the Guidance Counselor on the first day. That doesn’t just happen unless you’ve got something really important to discuss.” “And why are we only hearing about this now?” Leo asks, trying to stare a hole into Mondo’s skull. “Because your dad sucks with technology and has been neglecting his parental duties of keeping up to date on that stuff?” Leo bites the inside of his cheek. “Fair,” he reluctantly agrees. “Monds, you still should’ve brought it up. This buddy system of ours exists for a reason remember?” April says. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t thinking. I messed up. We’ll ask Mikey about it after school and have Hob help Splinter with the SGC thing. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this.” “How about just Donnie talks to ‘im?” Raph suggests. “Why’s that?” Leo asks. “Because all of us confronting him about this will make him feel ganged up on. And April, Mondo, and I are still practically strangers to him. He won’t be as comfortable opening up with us as he would be with someone he’s known his whole life and no offense, Leo, but your whole overprotective brother routine is just bound to stress him out further, especially after you threatened a couple of morons’ lives for him.” “That, and you have absolutely no people skills and Donnie seems closest to him regardless,” Mondo adds. “Hey!” Leo says. “Is he wrong though?” Donnie asks. Leo growls with resentment but sighs, saying, “No. No, he isn’t. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” #After school, the group returns home with April in tow for a homework session. Mikey slumps over to the kitchen where Splinter is making tea with Hob, and hands him the detention slip. “Can you sign this for me, please?” he asks in a tired tone. “What’s this? A permission slip for a field trip?” Splinter asks, taking the pink slip from Mikey. “Nah, that’s a detention slip. What’d you do?” Hob asks. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be in my room until tomorrow,” Mikey says, dragging himself to the hall. “Dinner’s still at six,” Hob says. “We’re having takeout from Run of the Mill Pizza.” “I’m not hungry,” Mikey says as he leaves the room. “Michelangelo not hungry for pizza?” Splinter questions, glancing down at the detention slip as Hob hands him a pen to sign it. “This is serious.” “What happened today?” Hob asks the other kids. “Mikey punched a bully and gave him a black eye,” Mondo says. “Jerk had it coming,” Raph says. “He’ll have a lot more than a black eye coming if he messes with my little brother again,” Leo mutters. “I’ll go talk to Mikey. You guys deal with the SGC stuff,” Donnie says. “SGC? That is that school thing I can’t wrap my head around right?” Splinter asks. “Yeah, speaking of,” Raph says, “Hob, Splinter hasn’t been checking our SGC reports and I’m ninety percent sure Mikey’s got some important stuff written in his. Can you help him access it?” As Donnie heads down the hall to Mikey’s room, the voices of the others trail off. Donnie knocks on the door briefly before nudging the door open and peeking in. “Hey, bro. Can we talk?” Donnie asks. “Go away,” Mikey says, lying face down into his pillow. “I’d love to except oh no the door just locked behind me,” Donnie says as he locks the door behind him. “Looks like I’m stuck here.” Mikey lifts his face to raise a single hairless eyebrow at Donnie. Sigh.  “What do you want, D?” Mikey sits up, hugging the pillow to his plastron as Donnie takes a seat beside him on the bed. “Mondo said you got sent to the Guidance Counselor on the first day of school. What happened?” “I don’t want to talk about that.” Mikey clutches his pillow closer to his chest, turning his gaze away from his older brother. “It’s okay, Mikey. I’m sure whatever it was wasn’t that bad. Whatever they said to you, whatever you got sent there for, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and I’m sure sensei would agree that there’s no reason for you to be in any sort of trouble.” Donnie pauses. “Well, aside from the detention thing but personally I think you were justified in punching him.” Mikey cracks a brief smile, eyes darting to his brother a moment. “You’re a good person, Michelangelo.” Donnie rests a gentle hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “Whatever happened, it doesn’t change that. Now, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Mikey takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak when Ray’s voice interrupts, shouting from down the hall. “Guys! Guys! Stockman’s in the zoo!” “WHAT?!” everyone shouts at once as they convene in the living room. “Hold on, are you saying Stockman’s found our lair?” Leo asks. “Uh, it’s a home not a lair. We ain’t supervillains you know,” Hob says. Leo merely rolls his eyes in response. “I don’t know if Stockman’s found us or if he’s here for his own reasons. He’s not near any of the exits and doesn’t appear to be headed that way. But he’s also got cyborg mutant flies with him for some reason and that ain’t the least bit comforting.” “I’m sorry. Cyborg mutant flies? Are you serious?” Hob asks. “I didn’t think any flies got mutated during the revolution,” Pete says. “It’s Stockman. He probably synthesized more mutagen and mutated them recently,” Mondo says. “Yeah and mutilated them right after. Sick bastard.” As Sally Pride enters the room, Hob adds, “Sal, we got a problem.” “Unknown mutant members of the Foot at our doorstep? I already know.” “The Foot?” Leo exclaims. “Hold up, hold up.” Ray fidgets with his security tablet and pulls up footage of Koya and Bludgeon sniffing about the place, the Foot’s logo on their belts. “That ain’t good,” Hob says. “Leonardo, where are you going?” Splinter asks as Leo darts out the door. “Two Foot ninja and Stockman all in the zoo at once,” Hob says. “Can’t be a coincidence.” “Knowing the Foot,” Splinter says, “it most certainly isn’t.” # Find him yet, Bludgeon? Koya asks in MSL—Mutant Sign Language, a standard training practice of the Foot for stealth purposes.  He’s close. Real close. Probably right around this corner. The hammerhead shark answers as they enter the literal lion’s den. Stockman sits atop a warming rock, his back turned to the two mutants as they approach in silence. Koya signs a plan to Bludgeon, telling him to circle around toward Stockman’s front while Koya sneaks up from behind to grab him and hold him still while Bludgeon bites off his head. At least, that’s the plan. The plan, however, has other plans, namely going terribly wrong as they’re set upon by hordes of cybernetic mutant flies before they can step more than a foot inside the enclosure. “What the—” Koya cries out in indignation. “Do you like my new pets?” Stockman says before turning to face them. “They’re quite easy to create you know. All it takes is some mutagen, your common housefly, and specially designed bio-synthetic robot parts. Add all these wonderous ingredients into a pile and the flies adhere to the semi-organic mechanisms, fusing into a cybernetic nightmare bug, all under my control.” Stockman holds up the remote only for it to be knocked out of his hand by a flying kunai, thrown by none other than Leonardo. “You don’t say?” Leo retorts. Stockman merely smiles and tilts his head as he faces him. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” He gestures to the Flyborgs still holding Koya and Bludgeon in a death grip. “I see. So your cyborgs aren’t just remote controlled. Voice command, I’m guessing?” “I prefer the term Flyborgs but yes, and before you even think of cutting out my vocal cords or killing me, you should know that any harm inflicted upon me will cause a self-destruct feature, and a very explosive one at that.” “You say that as if I care to let these traitors live,” Leo says. “Traitors?!” Koya says. “We were just following orders!” Bludgeon says. “Whose orders?” Leo asks. “Karai!” the pair answer. “And how did you come to the poorly thought out conclusion that Karai had any authority to give you an order?” The pair trade concerned glances. “Please, Chunin Leo, we’re sorry,” Bludgeon says. “We beg you for your mercy and forgiveness.” “I forgive you.” Leo throws more knives at the Flyborgs restraining his associates, causing Koya and Bludgeon to plummet from their grasp back to the floor. “But the master may not be so kind. Last I checked, he and Kitsune had yet to reach an agreement on whether or not Baxter Stockman is to continue breathing. So take your leave, now .” The pair bow their heads and beat a hasty retreat. Leonardo turns to Stockman, unsheathing both his swords as he stares the man down. “What a shame,” Baxter says. “I go through all that trouble to create mutant super-soldiers and I barely get to test them.” “Why are you here, Stockman?” “I had some hidden access points in the zoo from way back when.” Stockman shrugs. “You’d be amazed what some less than trustworthy zookeepers are willing to supply you for a bribe. Test subjects mostly, but also access to their veterinary clinic for use as a spare lab in times such as this when I needed to keep my not so legal practices distanced from TCRI. Figured since those two came after me at my lab, I’d be better off slumming it out here at a more off-the-books facility.” “Uh-huh. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you for attacking my family.” Leo points his sword threateningly at the scientist. “How about the fact that your master would be upset with you for going against direct orders? After all, you did just say none of you had permission to kill me, did you not?” Leo scowls, eyes darting around the room to take in just how thoroughly he is outnumbered as the Flyborgs creep closer. “I don’t know why you’d waste your breath threatening revenge, anyways, Leonardo. After all,” Stockman grins, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, “you should be more worried about yourself.” A pair of Flyborgs spew acid at Leo. He dodges the attack, narrowly and slices through a trio of bugs that swoop in for a more up-close attack, ending their lives swiftly. More and more Flyborgs appear, spewing acid left and right. He evades their attacks as best he can but it doesn’t take long for one of them to land a hit on one of his swords, melting the razor sharp blade down to a dull and steaming nub. He drops the damaged weapon as two Flyborgs grab him from behind. He stabs one of them with his remaining sword, killing it only for its partner to destroy the second sword just as easily as the Flyborgs have destroyed the first. A second Flyborg grabs Leo’s other arm as two more descend on his legs, restraining him thoroughly. “You really do make for an excellent lab specimen, Leonardo. After all, you have the most refined sample of mutagen in your blood, a sample I have yet to replicate since the files for Dr. O’Neil’s Splinter formula were erased from every corner of both the physical and digital world.” “Splinter formula? Dr. O’Neil?” “Oh yes, the formula was a mind-altering drug, meant originally to help find a cure for Alzheimer’s but which has shown the capacity for enhancing one’s mental faculties as a whole. Your rodent father was the primary test subject for it. Dr. Kirby O’Neil was the lead scientist on that project. His formula utilized many of the same elements that I added to my mutagen experiment but the proportions he used as well as every exact component have been lost to me and himself following the unfortunate incident.” As Stockman speaks, Raphael swoops down from the ceiling, slamming into Leo so hard the Flyborgs drop him. A rapidly inflating cushion is thrown under them seconds before they can crash to the hard floor beneath. “If unfortunate incident is what you call your top scientist turning on you, stealing your mutagen and lab animals, trying to escape into the alley, only to be shot in the back of the head by you, then I’d hate to see how you spin attempted murder of a child,” Hob says, aiming his gun at Stockman’s head. “Uh, I’m 18, thank you very much,” Leo reminds him. “I wouldn’t shoot me if I were you, Old Hob. If I die, so too do my pets,” Baxter gestures to his surrounding Flyborg army, “and I know how much you value mutant lives.” “Look pretty robotic to me,” Ray says. “How do we even know they’re alive and not just realistic looking androids?” “I can’t tell if you’re stalling your own demise or if you genuinely lack the necessary intelligence to tell the difference,” Stockman says, “but let me provide the answer to your query. Input Code: Release control timelapse ten seconds.” The Flyborgs all cease their attack, the red lights of their cybernetic eye going out as they start flitting around in a daze. “Free?” one says. “FREEDOM!” another shouts, arms pumped in the air. “Fly away!” says a third, sending the swarm into a flying frenzy. “Yes! Fly for your lives before he—” The fourth Flyborg is cut off as their mind control program retakes its hold over them. “NO!” Hob shouts, aiming his gun at Stockman. “Again—I die, so too do they. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” “URGH! Get him!” Hob yells, holstering his bullet-filled gun for a tranq one. “No. Get them.” Stockman points to the mutants as his Flyborgs descend upon them. The room devolves into chaos as Flyborgs spit and tear and grab at their opponents. Mondo slams his skateboard into one’s head while Mikey backs him up, beating away a Flyborg with his nunchaku before it can get Mondo from behind. Pete uses his flight to his advantage, rescuing Donnie and Splinter as a pair of Flyborgs try to take off with them. Sally and Hob fire off tranquilizer guns back to back, hoping to achieve a non-lethal resolution—though neither is sure tranquilizer will even work on a insectoid mutant. Ray fires his bazooka at the main water line, releasing a hefty stream of water. He shoves a boulder in front of it so the gushing water sprays upward at the flies in an effort to ground them with the moisture hitting their wings. Slash roars, stampeding through the melee until he reaches Baxter Stockman, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing tight enough that he can’t announce another order. Slash roars at the others, pointing off to the discarded remote. “I’ve got it!” Leo shouts, diving for the remote. “How do you shut them off?” He pushes a yellow button on the remote, activating an electroshock failsafe, stunning the Flyborgs and making them drop to the floor unconscious both physically and digitally as they convulse. “Leo! We weren’t trying to kill them!” Hob shouts. “Are they even dead?” Splinter asks, poking one with his staff, earning a twitching from the bug’s appendages. “Came close enough! Leo!” “It stopped them didn’t it? I’d hope you’d value our lives more than some worthless bugs.” “WORTHLESS?!” Hob and Splinter shout in unison. They share a glance as if they couldn’t believe they shared an opinion and Splinter reaches out to his eldest son, gripping his shoulder. “My son, we shall discuss the value of life in depth later. For now, let us worry about Baxter Stockman.” “Slash, let ‘im go,” Hob orders. “Pretty sure he can’t command them anymore.” Slash looks at Stockman with a bitter expression. After a moment, he reluctantly drops the scientist to the ground, letting him gasp for air. “Well, that was fun,” Baxter says. Ray points his bazooka at his face, causing him to flinch. “Why were you here, Stockman?” Ray asks. “And why were the Foot here with you?” Sally adds. “With me? Ms. Pride you insult my intelligence by implying they and I are working together. On the contrary, they were here to come after me for betraying Oroku Karai when she enlisted my help with eliminating her arch-rival.” “Arch-rival? Who?” Splinter asks. Stockman looks to Leonardo—a sharp glare on the turtle’s face—and smirks. “Oh, I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourselves.” “We’ll ask again,” Hob says. “Why. Are. You. Here?” “I have something akin to a spare lab in the veterinary clinic. I needed the off-the-books space to create my Flyborg army in order to defend myself after Foot 1 and Foot 2 invaded my building. Now, I could ask you the same question. I know the Bronx—excuse me, Mutant Town is your home but even still you all got here rather quickly. So tell me, Hob, what are you and your Mighty Mutanimals doing here, hmm?” “None of your business,” Hob sneers. “Ah, very well then.” Stockman’s eye catches glimpse of the Flyborgs coming back online and he whistles at them, activating their retrieve and retreat protocol. The Flyborgs swarm around them, grabbing Baxter and hauling him off out of the lion’s den before the Mutanimals can react. “Grab the remote,” Stockman says, causing the Flyborg nearest to Leonardo to grab the device from his hands as the cyborg mutant army escapes with their creator. Pete tries to fly after them only for his wing to be scorched by acid, causing him to drop. “Pete!” Raph cries out, catching his feathery friend. “You okay?” “Yeah. Missed the primary feathers, but…” Pete winces in pain, clutching his elbow. “We’ll get you to the infirmary.” Sally rips off a sleeve of her leather jacket to wipe away most of the remaining acid on Pete’s arm. “That ain’t good,” Ray says, staring off into the distance as Stockman leaves. “Yeah,” Mondo agrees, “do you think he’ll figure out why we’re really here?” The older Mutanimals all trade a worried glance. #The kettle screams as steam pours out of it. Splinter pulls it from the stove and pours the tea for the others seated around the kitchen’s I-shaped peninsula. “Look, Stockman knows, right?” Ray asks. “He practically hinted at it? I’m not crazy?” “I don’t like what went down today anymore than you but I don’t think Stockman knows,” Sally replies, taking a cup of tea from Splinter. “If he did this place would be crawling with MOUSERs.” “Nah, he don’t know,” Hob says, sipping on a cup of green tea. “He just suspects. That’s worse. Suspicion equals curiosity. And a scientist always satisfies their curiosity.” “So, what do you suggest?” Leo asks. “We pack up and move elsewhere? Not gonna lie, I’d be down for that, preferably somewhere more remote and distanced from society.” “We ain’t leaving New York. This is our home. Period. Ain’t no thing on Earth nor force in Heaven that can get me to leave,” Raph says. “Hear, hear!” Hob toasts to Raph, clinking their porcelain cups together. “So we just sit around and wait until Stockman decides to make a move against us? Doesn’t that seem just a tad dangerous?” Donnie asks. “No. We build our defenses and keep an eye out for anything that might mean Stockman’s moving in. We get the word out in Mutant Town that TCRI’s CEO was spotted in the hood and we’ll have the whole community watching out,” Hob says. Leo rolls his eyes. “You really think the neighbors will care about us enough to watch our backs?” “Of course they will,” Splinter says, frowning at Leonardo, “a community will always protect its own.” “Right,” Leo nods. “Because if Stockman threatens us then they’ll be next. Them watching out for us will also in a sense be them looking out for their own best interests, which is in turn in our best interests.” “Uh, did that make sense to anyone?” Mikey asks. “Leonardo, might I have a word with you alone?” Splinter asks, guiding Leo away. “We’ve got another problem besides Stockman,” Sally says. “The Foot Clan ninja that were here. Stockman said they were after him but just because he was their target doesn’t mean they weren’t a threat to us as well. They snuck in too easily—” “Even for a ninja?” Mondo asks. Sally sighs. “Yes, Mondo, even for a ninja. They shouldn’t have gotten past us like that. Stockman’s coming and going was fully documented on surveillance but those two were only caught in brief glimpses here and there, almost like they knew how to avoid the cameras.” “You think they’ve done recon on our home?” Raph asks. “Doubtful,” Pete says before taking a long sip of his tea, smacking his beak with a sigh of contentment. “Okay, why do you find it doubtful they did recon?” Donnie asks. “Oh, because if they had ever done recon, we would’ve spotted them doing so beforehand. Even if they were careful to avoid being spotted by our cameras, the facility has a radar system that lets us know when someone’s approaching. The cameras are more just to identify threats from friendlies given radar can’t exactly put a face to a blip.” “And you’re sure that none of those blips were Foot ninja?” Mikey asks. “Positive,” Ray says. “I keep a tight record of everyone’s comings and goings, even Leo’s for all his stealthiness. Each of our entry keycards is registered to our own person. So if for instance, Mikey uses his to gain access, the system will register the alert that Mikey has entered the household. I have an AI then compare and contrast between the keycard entries to the radar readings and surveillance footage. There haven’t been any unidentified radar blips since I set the system up years ago. And all recorded nearby sightings of anyone—mutant or human—are recorded as friendlies. None of the ones getting close enough to trip the radar alerts are affiliated with the Foot. Ergo, the Foot haven’t been spying on us.” “Okay but wouldn’t that be more concerning? Like if they knew how to avoid the cameras without staking out the place then how?” Mondo asks. Mikey stares down at his reflection in his tea, dropping his head into his folded arms on the counter. “Maybe… someone on the inside told them everything?” “Like who? That wouldn’t even make any sense, Mike,” Raph says. “Nobody who comes or goes from this place is our enemy.” “I don’t know.” Hob leans back on his stool, using his feet resting on the counter as an anchor. “I’m still suspicious about Leo and his secret job with 'Lucky Fox Industries'. I tried doing research on 'em and couldn't find nothing useful. Company's practically a shell corporation. How we know it ain't a front for the Foot?” Sally groans in disgust and pushes Hob’s feet off, thus knocking him to the floor. “If Leo were working for the Foot I’m pretty sure we’d all be dead by now. After all, it was only Raph they wanted alive. The rest of us have had so many attempts on our lives it might as well have been Mutanimal Season at Foot Headquarters these past few years.” “Yeah but if the whole goal for going after Raphie was to reunite him with the rest of the Hamato family then so long as we weren’t trying to keep them apart, wouldn’t it be possible the Foot wouldn’t see us as a threat anymore?” Ray posits. “Oh, please.” Raph rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “This is Leo we’re talking about. He’s not a fan of any of you. Frankly, I think if he was a killer he’d have done you all in in your sleep weeks ago.” “That’s your brother you’re talking about, Raphael,” Donnie says. “Your point, Donatello?” The two glare at each other for a moment until Splinter and Leo reenter the room. “So, what do you guys think happened to those Foot mutants? Think Stockman killed them?” Leo asks. “Maybe but since their bodies weren’t lying around it’s possible they escaped,” Hob says. “The Foot are relentless. They don’t just give up when it comes to the missions assigned to them,” Leo counters, knowing full well that the mission wasn’t assigned to them officially and that they would turn tail if given a proper order as he had issued. “I am less worried about the Foot’s presence and more worried about Stockman claiming to have betrayed the Foot. This implies that they were working together. This is most troubling,” Splinter says. “Yeah,” Hob agrees. “The Foot and Stockman are bad enough on their own. But put his tech with their skills and you’ve got yourself a recipe for trouble.” “And trouble’s already hit our doorstep. The MOUSERs attacked the Hamato household weeks ago and then attacked Leo’s safehouse with all of us in it,” Sally says. “If the Foot have ancient grudges against the Hamatao family, and assuming that’s why they were after Raphael, then it’s possible the Foot recruited Stockman to help them get the Hamato family for some kind of revenge scheme and since you guys were Stockman’s original test subjects—” “Stockman wouldn’t have wanted to give you up so easily,” Hob finishes. “Either way, I don’t think we should assume those Foot mutants are dead,” Raph says. “Those creeps are like cockroaches. They don’t stay gone for long.” “Hey, let’s not compare our enemies to bugs, especially after what Stockman did to those poor flies,” Hob says. “I don’t care if it’s offensive! The Foot Clan were in our home! They were this close,” Raphael pinches his fingers together, “to finding us and dragging us away, dragging me away!” “Raphael, calm yourself. The Foot did not find you. You are safe here, my son,” Splinter says, resting a hand against his son’s shoulder. Raph shrugs him off and storms off to his room. “I should go,” Leo says. “My boss will be expecting me at work soon.” “And your boss’s name is?” Hob asks. “None of your concern, Hob.” #Leonardo returns to Foot Headquarters where Koya and Bludgeon are kneeling at the Shredder’s throne. Karai stands before him, pleading innocence. “Master, I swear to you, Koya and Bludgeon are lying! Why would I disobey your direct orders and send them after Stockman?” “Because you are a petty child who seeks only to eliminate threats to yourself regardless of whether or not they pose any harm to the Foot Clan as a whole, especially regardless of whether or not they are a vital part of this Clan,” Leo says. “Enough!” Shredder roars. Leo and Karai kneel into a bow. “Leonardo, I am well aware of how vengeful and petty my descendant is. It is why I do not doubt Koya’s claims or Bludgeon’s that they were sent after Baxter Stockman at Karai’s behest. But since my granddaughter seems incapable of learning her lesson when doled out by me or her grandmother, perhaps it would be best to instead of her punishment be brought upon by someone else, someone she mistakenly finds beneath her. Leonardo, I leave you to issue Karai’s punishment in this matter.” “What?! Grandfather, this is ridiculous! Why would you allow your enemy’s son to hold power over your own flesh and blood?” “Because my enemy’s son has betrayed me and my clan far less than my own flesh and blood has in these past few weeks alone.” Karai jolts as if struck. She looks to Leonardo as he unsheathes his swords and steps toward her. She stumbles back. “No, please,” she falls on her rear end. “Please don’t—” Instead of bringing the blades down upon her head, he flips them around, offering her the hilts. “Huh?” She takes the swords from him. “Until further notice, Karai, you are to be removed from active duty and are instead to be relegated to maintenance of all Foot Clan weaponry, uniforms, the facility and are to serve as nursemaid to any injuries clan members suffer in the line of duty. You will start with my own swords. I expect them to be so well-polished that sunlight gleaming off them is enough to blind a man. Am I understood?” “Yes, Chunin Leo.” She bows to him. “And one more thing, to ensure you do as you’re told for once, Bebop and Rocksteady will be your chaperones.” “You want them to babysit me?! But they’re idiots!” “That just means they’re expendable enough that relegating them to babysitting duty won’t be a huge loss to the Foot in their absence from more serious work. Further, their more brutish nature, should be suffice to keeping you in line.” “You can’t seriously expect me to obey—" “Karai!” Shredder yells. Karai groans and bows again. “I accept these terms as you have issued them, Chunin. I will be a dutiful servant of the Foot from here on out. I swear it on my life.” “Good, then know that the next time you betray us, your life will be forfeit,” Leo says. “You are very lucky to be the blood of Oroku Saki, for if your were not, I doubt that you would have lived past your first act of treachery.” “How long will I be on maintenance duty?” Karai asks. “Until the masters and I unanimously agree without a shred of hesitation that you have either learned your lesson on loyalty or suffered enough to be deterred from any further betrayals in the future.” “Such an excellent punishment, Leonardo. I am impressed,” Shredder says. “Dismissed.” #Splinter drives them to school the next day, as Hob is still checking over every last scrap of security detail with the older Mutanimals. Though with Splinter only recently learning how to drive, the ride to school was a little more stressful for all involved than anticipated. As Splinter puts the car in park, the teenaged mutants all scramble out of the car in a rush to get out of the deathtrap. “Next time, just let me drive,” Leo says as he shuts the door behind him.” “I would but Hob says he needs the car for groceries later,” Splinter replies. He catches a glimpse of Mikey in the rearview mirror, his youngest hesitating to exit the vehicle. “Michelangelo? Is everything alright?” “Hm? Oh yeah, dad. It’s all good. Just won’t be out of school until after detention is over. Raph says it usually lasts an hour.” “I will pick you up then if you’d like.” “Nah, you don’t have to do that. Think I’ll just walk home.” “It is no trouble at all, my son. Are you sure you—” “I’m sure. Besides, the way you drive, I’d probably be safer walking through the bad parts of town. Love you.” “I love you too. Call me when you get out to let me know you are headed home at least, okay?” “Kay, dad, bye.” Mikey drags himself through the halls, ignoring the way Josh and Kevin duck inside their lockers to avoid him because of Leo’s threats, as he heads to history class. He drops into his seat with a frown, a dark cloud hanging over his demeanor. “You alright, dude?” Mondo asks beside him. Mikey forces a smile and gives him a thumbs up. “A-Okay, Mondo. I’m fine. Honest. Ready to learn, as always.” Mondo doesn’t appear convinced as Mr. Jeffries starts the lesson of the day. Once Mondo stops staring at him, Mikey lets his face fall once again, not having the energy to even fake a smile for too long.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Casey Jones drops another puck onto the pavement and aims for the goal she set up along the chain-link fence, swinging her hockey stick at it with full force. The shot hits the goal dead center, denting the fence for the dozenth time in a row and knocking the rusted old posts loose of the ground. The fence topples over with a clatter.

“YES!” Casey pumps her fist with pride at such a successful puck shot.

Headlights peek through the night to put spots in her eyes as the expected truck with the TCRI logo rolls up to the old warehouse the Purple Dragons have holed up in.

“Yo, Pops, they’re here!” Casey calls out, adding under her breath, “Finally.”

Two twig-like men get out of the truck as Casey’s father strolls in with a trio of . Arnold Jones, better known as Hun to associates and enemies alike with twin purple dragon tattoos wrapping around his beefy arms and an even bigger one on his muscled back has always cut an intimidating figure. Though Cassandra has never feared him. He may be leader of the Purple Dragons, most feared thug in all of New York to some, but to Casey, he’s just dad. And she loves him as much as he loves her.

“You got the stuff?” Hun asks the men with the truck.

“You have the money?” Truck guy one asks, puffing out his scrawny excuse for a chest.

Hun snaps his fingers and one of the Purple Dragons backing him up lifts a briefcase full of money to display for the TCRI lackeys who clearly don’t get paid enough if they’re resorting to stealing from their boss to supply the Purple Dragons’ drug ring.

Casey doesn’t know where they got the briefcase from as none of them have seen the inside of an office building in like ever, but frankly she doesn’t care enough to ask. Though what she might ask is what chemicals did her dad buy this time for the drug ring.

The truck guys unload the vehicle, revealing pallets of a glowing blue substance labelled “Ooze”.

“Now remember, Hun. This stuff’s highly concentrated. A full dose of this,” Truck guy #2 shakes a vial in front of him, “will give you ‘roid rage like you wouldn’t believe. The doc says a proper dosage of this stuff permanently enlarges the adrenal glands… or did he say the amygdala? Eh, one of the two. Either way. To dilute it properly you need—”

“One milliliter of ooze to one and a half liters of distilled water and 500 milliliters of saline. One pound of gelatin. I know. You act like I’ve never done this before,” Hun says.

“Yeah, you think our boss is dumb or something?” Dragon 1—Charlie?—says.

“We’ll have you know Hun got straight As in Chem class back in the day, sucka. Dude didn’t just get his GED he full-on graduated,” Dragon 2—Trixie, Casey always liked her—adds.

“Enough talk!” Hun says. “Dragons, back in the lab. You two, take your cash and go. We’ll call you when we need a restock.”

The delivery guys hop back into their truck and take off as Hun leads the Purple Dragons back into the warehouse/chem lab to prepare the Ooze concentrate—an isotope derived from the same stuff that mutated the entire Bronx Zoo—into Ooze pellets. An Ooze pellet, or simply Ooze as it’s known on the street, is a gel capsule that—while not addictive—is highly sought after for it’s healing and performance-enhancing properties.

One pill can mend serious cuts and breaks, repair bullet wounds or even kill several diseases within hours. It can give a weakling the strength of ten men and make them faster than any cheetah—normal or mutant. The Purple Dragons are the only ones with the means of production which is how they stay on top of the game against rivals such as the lethal Foot Clan or even Darius Dun’s untouchable Street Phantoms. It’s where most of the Purple Dragons’ money comes from.

Though just because it keeps the food on the table doesn’t mean Casey has to like it.

She approaches her father as he pours the vials of Ooze concentrate into a funneling system.

“Couldn’t you try and make some other kind of drug for folks?” she asks. “Ooze tends to make people a little… sketchy.”

“If they weren’t already sketchy, they wouldn’t buy it in the first place. Besides, I don’t see how getting a little amped up is any worse than people acting out because of withdrawal. At least this stuff doesn’t get people dependent on it.”

“True, but it’s more than just a little amped up, dad. The takers act like the whole world’s their enemy, that everyone’s out to get them. It makes them more aggressive and hostile, paranoid and—”

“Look, Case,” Hun wraps an arm around Casey and leads her down the way, past the various laboratory equipment, diluting the Ooze and mixing it with the right ingredients to form the gel pills, “I know you don’t like this stuff, but it ain’t like I’m making you take it or even using myself. It’s just business. Business that sure may make people a bit wired but it also saves lives. Need I remind you how many of our own men have been spared a gruesome death at the hands of some cop’s guns because they were able to take one of our pellets to seal up the bullet holes? Or how about Mrs. Demarsci from next door? If it weren’t for the Ooze she’d have died of cancer five years ago.”

“She died last year, dad.”

“Yeah, of old age! She still got to live another four whole years because the Ooze did what chemo and surgery together couldn’t. It’s still the safest drug on the market and our ticket to the top.” Hun points to the ceiling with gusto.

“Top of what, dad?” Casey shrugs his arm off her shoulder.

“The food chain. The criminal underworld. This stuff keeps us in league with goons as fearsome as the Foot Clan. The Foot, Case. Even without fancy tech or performance-enhancers, those ninja punks still manage to be the most brutal, most relentless, most unstoppable criminal force this city’s ever seen. And this,” Hun holds up a freshly made Ooze pellet between his fingers, “makes us just as important in the grand scheme of things as them.”

#

The next day, Raph sets up a game of street hockey with his brothers and April. Leo, Donnie, and Mikey make up team one while Mondo, April, and Raphael form team two. As the group laces on their roller blades, Mondo leans against his hockey stick with a pensive expression.

“Is this really fair? I mean you guys haven’t exactly played this game before.”

“We’ll be fine, Mondo. Don’t you worry about us,” Leo says.

“Yeah. We’re ninja remember?” Mikey says. “We got skills for days.”

“We’ll be running circles around you before you even see the puck,” Donnie adds, high-fiving Michelangelo.

“Okay but it’s not a puck because this is the street and pucks don’t slide on rough pavement. We’re using a ball,” April says, tossing the ball at Donnie.

“Yeah, your ninja skills aren’t nothing if you don’t know even that much about playing,” Raph says.

“Then how about a bet?” Leo asks with a little smirk. “Losing team gives the winners their desserts in the school cafeteria for a week.”

“You’re on!” Mondo yells. “Let’s do this!”

The game starts and quickly devolves into chaos as April shows off her more practiced hockey skills, stealing the ball away from Leo in the blink of an eye. Mikey tries to take the ball from her but by diving for the ball instead of trying to use his stick like he’s supposed to. April makes a shot for the Hamato goalpost but Donnie intercepts it mid-air, using his hockey stick like his bo staff and smacking the ball through an open window past a girl studying on the windowsill.

“Oops,” Donnie says as April facepalms.

“Don, stick stays low to the ground.”

“Sorry, Angel,” Raph calls out. “Can you toss us the ball?”

The girl with long purple hair heads deeper inside her house to retrieve the ball before throwing it back to them.

“Thanks!”

“Haven’t seen her at school before,” Leo says.

“She’s homeschooled. Angel’s a bit sheltered since one of her cousins went missing several years ago and her parents have been worried the same could happen to her so they don’t usually let her out of the house much.”

“If her parents are protective of her is Mutant Town really the best place to be living?” Leo asks.

Raph shushes him. “We don’t want her parents to hear that. They’ve only recently started to relax on the whole overprotective schtick.”

“Is it really that they’ve relaxed or that Angel finally grew a backbone to demand a little more freedom?” April asks.

“I heard that O’Neil!” Angel calls out.

April scoffs and begins the game again, this time making sure to keep the ball as far from Donatello as possible.

“April, I’m open!” Raph shouts.

April tries to pass him the ball but Raphael gets distracted by something out the corner of his eye. Instead of receiving the ball, it hits him in the knee making him fall to the ground.

“Raph!” April calls out, rushing over to him as the game is put on pause.

“What happened?” Mondo asks, helping Raphael up.

“Drug deal. On the corner there!”

Raph runs past them toward the corner of the street. He stops at the intersection, looking around but finding no one.

“I don’t see anyone,” Mondo says.

“Raph, are you sure you saw a drug deal?” Leo asks.

“One of them had a Purple Dragon tattoo, Leo,” Raph says. “They handed over a tiny baggie of pills. Ooze pills. Okay, I know what I saw.”

“Ooze? In this neighborhood? No way,” Mondo says.

“Yes way.”

“Um, what’s Ooze exactly?” Mikey asks.

“It’s an isotope derived from mutagen. It can either heal people or make them stronger. In low doses the effects are temporary. An overdose has long-lasting and negative impacts.”

“What impact? You mean like an addiction?” Donnie asks.

“No. In addition to the intended effects it also triggers your fight or flight response. It puts you on edge. Hostile, aggressive, even paranoid at times.”

“How do you know all this?” Leo asks.

In lieu of a response, Raphael walks over to a parked car and lifts it over his head with a single hand much to his brothers’ shock and awe.

“Let’s just say I was an unwitting test subject for the stuff awhile back and got about as big of an overdose as you can get.”

“Whoa, is that why you’re always so grumpy?” Mikey asks.

“Yes. It’s also why I try not to touch anyone or anything when I’m angry. Ever since Stockman gave me an overdose I have to be constantly aware of what my body’s doing at all times otherwise my strength gets away from me and someone winds up hurt. Usually me getting myself hurt during a panic attack. Typically my panic attacks just have me curled up on the floor but sometimes, like at TCRI the night we met when bad guys are coming at me I go into flight mode and tear through stuff trying to get away. Ask Splinter. He saw the damage I could do.”

“Cool,” Mikey says.

“No. Not cool. Being overdosed was one of the worst things to ever happen to me and I’ll be damned if I let the Purple Dragons bring that shit into our home. It ruins lives and I won’t have it. I don’t care if you don’t believe me about them being here but I’m going to find the Dragons and send them packing.”

#

Ray is hard at work in what was formerly just his lab but now serves as both his and Donnie’s shared space for scientific endeavors. He’s working on a new stealth mode for their battle vehicle when Raphael stomps into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Can I help you with something there, Red?” Ray asks as he pulls his work goggles up.

“Where’s your crime scanner?” Raph asks as he rummages through a supply drawer.

“Not in there.” Ray pulls him away and closes the drawer. “Might I ask what you need the crime scanner for?”

“Crime scanner?” Leo asks as he and the others enter. “Don’t you mean police scanner?”

“No. I don’t. A police scanner simply listens in on police radios. The crime scanner—patent pending—is a handy little device that hacks cellphone calls and text messages within a 5 block radius then uses an AI to filter out anything pertaining to criminal activity. For instance, if you were to have a phone call with someone to discuss how to rob a bank, the crime scanner would pick up on that and save it in the ‘crimes in progress’ file,” Ray explains.

“Sounds like a major invasion of privacy,” Donnie says.

“It’s not like it saves every conversation, just the ones that could cause problems. Heck, it doesn’t even save conversations pertaining to petty theft like if someone stole a can of soup or whatever. Only if it’s something bigger like home robbery or purse snatching,” Ray adds. “Still doesn’t explain why Raphael needs it.”

“He thinks the Purple Dragons are selling Ooze in Mutant Town,” Mikey says.

“I don’t think anything. I know what I saw,” Raph says. “Now where is it?”

“Look, Raph,” Ray puts up a hand, “I understand why you’d worry about this, believe me, I do. But this is grown up problems for the grown ups to handle. I’ll talk to Hob about the Purple Dragons and the Ooze and we’ll figure something out about that, but I don’t want you anywhere near this issue. Alright? And I know Hob would say the same.”

“Ugh! You don’t get it. This is personal!” Raph yells.

“I know! But you need to let the adults fight your battles for you sometimes because this,” Ray gestures all around, “this is too big for a kid to be dealing with. We’re talking drug deals and gang activity. This ain’t childs’ play, Raphael. This is the big leagues. Now if you don’t drop it and leave us to handle the problem, I’ll be talking with Hob and Splinter about cutting back on your curfew.”

“By how much?”

“Eight o’clock.”

“Four hours?! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“It’s that or you drop it.”

Raph groans. “Fine. Consider it dropped. Come on, guys, let’s go do our homework.”

A couple hours later April gets a notification on Instagram.

“Ugh, show off,” April says.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“It’s my arch rival Cassandra Jones. She posted a reel on her Insta of her practicing hockey and boy are her moves fire!” April scoffs, showing Mikey the video of Casey’s epic puck shot, ricocheting off the sides of the rink. “Show off.”

“Cool!” Mikey says. “Hey, wait, who’s that guy in the back?”

“Must be her dad.”

“Hey, Raph, do the Purple Dragons typically have purple dragon tattoos or is this just a coincidence?”

“Tattoos? Let me see.”

“Hey!” April says as Raphael snatches her phone from her hand.

“That’s not just any Purple Dragon. That’s Hun aka Arnold Jones. The leader of the Dragons. April, your arch rival is the daughter of the Purple Dragons’ boss?”

“I guess so,” April shrugs.

“Hold up,” Donnie says. “You knew his real last name was Jones yet you didn’t know he was related to Casey Jones?”

“Dude, do you have any idea how common of a last name Jones is?” Mondo asks. “Only three names more common in New York. Williams, Johnson, and Rodriguez.”

“One sec,” Leo holds up a finger, using his phone to search something. “Wow that is actually correct. Scary how you just knew that fact off the top of your head.”

“Don’t care how common the name is,” Raph says. “April, where’s Casey live? Do you know?”

“I thought you agreed to drop this, little brother,” Leonardo says.

“First, don’t call me little brother like that. It sounds like you’re talking down to me like I’m some kinda little kid. Second, I only said that because I didn’t have a lead then. Now, I do. April, address.”

She crosses her arms and glares at him.

“Please?” he adds sweetly.

“That’s more like it. She lives in Queens. Small rinky dink house on the corner of Jackson and Thomas Avenue. Peeling blue paint. Can't miss it.”

“Thanks April!”

Raph races for the door only for Leo to block the exit.

“Raph, this isn’t our problem.”

“You really want to leave this to the adults?”

“Honestly? No. I’d rather they leave this alone too. None of us should be sticking our necks out for no good reason.”

“This is a good reason! Defending our home, protecting our people! What’s a better reason than that?”

“Our people are all inside this building. The others in the neighborhood, in mutant Town are

not

our people.”

“Says you.”

“Raph, trust me. Getting involved in stuff like this is only going to bring us more trouble. Just like Splinter defying the Shredder in our past lives got us killed.”

“First, that never happened,” Donnie says. “Second, it literally just sounds like an excuse for you to play the coward.”

“I’m not a coward. I just know when fighting is necessary and when it isn’t. Like right now for example. Fighting will only put our family in danger.”

“So long as Ooze is out on the streets, our streets, our family is already in danger. After all, what happens if Mikey or Donnie accidentally ticks someone off who’s in the middle of an Ooze-enhanced freak out? They'd get pummeled into paste. Now move it!”

Raphael shoves Leo aside and races past him out the door while his older brother contemplates this last argument.

#

Casey barges into the Purple Dragons’ warehouse only to be blocked by Fang.

“Hold it there, little lady. We’re busy,” he says.

“My dad promised to help me with my homework.”

“Like I said, we’re busy.”

“He. Promised.”

“Listen girlie pop, the whole world don’t revolve around you. You might be Hun’s little princess but—”

Casey cuts him off with a swift kick to the balls, forcing a high-pitched squeal out of Fang as he falls to his knees.

“I ain’t a princess. Though from the sounds of your voice right now, you just might be.”

Fang gets up and snaps his fingers. A pair of Purple Dragons come over to escort Casey out of the building, shoving her out the door.

“Hey!”

Casey slams her fist against the door repeatedly.

“Go away!” Fang calls from inside.

With a heavy groan and great reluctance, Casey hops on her motorcycle and drives home to struggle through her calculus homework alone. Though, homework may have to wait as a mutant turtle in a red hoodie and jeans is leaning against the door to her house.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks.

“Name’s Raphael. You Hun’s daughter?”

“Who’s asking?” Casey asks before pausing. “Oh wait you just said. Why do you care? You’re not a cop. You looking to get in with the Dragons or something?”

Raph clenches his fist and grabs Casey, slamming her against the door.

“Where are the Dragons stashing the Ooze?”

“Pfft. That’s what you want? Look, buddy, if you want to dose—”

Raph slams his fist next to Casey’s head, punching a hole through the brick façade. Casey’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Do I look like I want or need a dose? That stuff is dangerous. Now you’re going to tell me where I can find it so I can destroy their entire stash or—”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll see if your dad’s more willing to talk when I take his little princess and—”

Casey aims a kick at Raph’s crotch, but he leaps back before she can make contact. He grabs her foot and throws her to the ground, knocking her out. He takes out her phone and scrolls through her recent texts for Hun then sends him a message that reads:

I have your daughter. Either deliver all the Ooze you and the Dragons are hoarding to me or I hand her over to the cops for acting as an accomplice to your crimes. I’ll send you the address when you text back a photo of all the Ooze packed up for transport.

“Not bad,” a voice says behind him. “As far as ransom notes go, that one works pretty well.”

“Leo?! Did you follow me here or something?”

“Of course I did.” Leo sighs. “Grab her legs. I got her upper body. We’ll put her in the van.”

Leo picks up Casey by the armpits as Raph grabs her feet.

“Why are you helping? I thought you were against getting involved.”

“I am but since it’s too late to stop you at this point I might as well help you with your kidnapping plot.”

They gently toss Casey into the back of the van. Raph moves to close the door, but hesitates.

“Kidnapping? We’re not—” He considers what he’s doing for a moment. “I didn’t—This wasn’t—Oh God. What am I doing?”

Leo rests a hand on Raph’s shoulder.

“Relax, little brother. I have your back.”

“We should put her back. It’s not too late to just not kidnap her.”

“Maybe not, but it is too late to not get on Hun’s bad side and thus earn the wrath of the entirety of the Purple Dragons. Between that message you just sent and Casey being assaulted, they’ll be out for blood. And Casey knows now what you look like. You attend April’s hockey games enough that it’s only a matter of time before they find you through her or our school and target you and everyone you love.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. So, since we’re fucked either way, might as well go big and carry out the rest of your ‘trade Casey for the Ooze’ plan. Let’s roll out. No telling how long it’ll take Hun to show up.”

Leo hops into the driver’s seat while a very numb Raphael slides into the passenger side.

“Seatbelt, Raphael.”

Raph doesn’t hear this, his heart pounding in his ears as the weight of what he’s done comes crashing down on top of him.

“Seatbelts.” Leo reaches over and pulls Raph’s seatbelt across to click it into place while Raphael struggles to breathe.

#

“How you kids doing in here?” Hob asks as he enters the living room.

“Fine,” April, Mondo, and Donnie say in unison.

“Worried,” Mikey says at the same time.

Everyone turns to look at him and he shrinks down into his shell.

“Well, I am,” he says, voice echoing inside his shell.

“Why you worried?” Hob asks, looking around. “And where are Raph and Leo?”

“Went to Casey’s house. Apparently her dad is Hun.”

“Hun? Like leader of the Purple Dragons, Hun?”

“That’s the one,” Mondo replies.

“Why in God’s name would they want to go to Hun’s house and more importantly, why did you all let them?”

“Not sure exactly on the why he decided to go confront a gang leader,” Donnie says. “But Raphael was pretty stressed about the Dragons dealing Ooze in Mutant Town and Leo went after him to keep him out of trouble.”

“Oh dear God,” Hob mutters, pinching the space between his eyes. “What is he thinking?”

“Probably nothing good. Hence why I’m worried,” Mikey says from inside his shell.

“Mikey are you going to stay in there all day?” Donnie asks.

“Are you guys going to keep looking at me all day?”

“We’re not even looking at you now, dude. You always been so self-conscious or is this new?” Mondo waits a beat then turns to Donnie. “Don?”

“This is new for him. Usually he likes being the center of attention. Hey, speaking of, are you doing okay? I know the bullying thing was stressing you out but Leo took care of that so are they still bothering you or—”

“I said I’m fine! Just leave me alone already! Ugh!”

Mikey pops out of his shell, picks up his homework and textbooks and stomps back to his room past Hob.

“Okay, dealing with that later. Why’d you all let them leave to go after a gang leader alone?” Hob asks.

“Because Leo said he had it handled and he didn’t want the rest of us getting involved/hurt too,” Donnie replies.

“And that was good enough for you?”

“Have you seen Leo fight before? He can be pretty scary when he wants to be.”

“Yeah,” April says. “Walked in on him sparring against one of Ray’s robots the other day and he practically tore the thing to shreds with his bare hands. I think he and Raph’ll be okay. It’s Hun I’m worried about. Might need a body bag once Leo’s through with him.”

“Leo’s not a killer, April,” Donnie says. “Trust me on this. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.”

“So many follow up questions to that statement,” Hob says, “but I’ll ask ‘em later. I gotta go round up the Mutanimals and your pops to stop those two from getting themselves into more trouble than they probably already have.”

#

As Leo and Raph tie Casey to a chair in a warehouse by the docks, Leo thinks back on an earlier war council with the elite-most members of the Foot Clan. In attendance were himself and master Shredder of course, as well as Mistress Kitsune, Karai, Koya of the Foot’s northern territories, and Rocksteady of the Foot’s southern. Surprisingly, Rocksteady was the one calling the meeting.

“Rocksteady, the floor is yours,” Master Shredder had said.

“The Purple Dragons are getting more bold. They have inched their way into our territories. Already there are rumors they seek to expand their drug ring into Mutant Town. And I doubt they’ll stop there. Soon enough they’ll even push into our territories in the north.”

“They are pushing into the north,” Koya said. “I’ve already had to kill three of their drug pushers this week alone. I don’t know if it’s arrogance or sheer stupidity of them to think they can challenge us like this.”

“It’s neither. With the growing influence Ooze has on the populace and the increased strength and healing factor it gives their own men, the Dragons are growing ever stronger,” Leo said. “However, they’re only able to grow in strength and numbers due to coordination and proper leadership.”

“Hun,” Shredder said. “If we can remove him from the equation—”

“Then the Dragons’ empire will crumble like dust and scatter to the wind,” Kitsune followed up.

“We’d need to find him first,” Karai had said. “The man only gets his hands dirty when something’s personal or the Dragons go out in full force. Like that attack on Mutant Town a few weeks ago. A shame our dear Chunin could neither force the threat out of his own home nor kill our arch-rival when he had the chance.”

“The Dragons were more nuisance than threat at the time. Further, my family was there and refused to stay inside where it was safe. My priority was to ensure their safety.”

“Yeah but still.”

“Enough,” an exasperated Shredder said. “I will hear no more of your petty bickering. You act even more childish than Rocksteady does when he’s around his associate Bebop. No offense.”

“None taken, boss—er, Master.”

“Do we have any clue as to where Hun hangs his hat?” Koya asked.

“Hangs his hat? Isn’t that saying a little outdated?” Karai asked.

Kitsune cleared her throat—a reminder to behave less casually in this meeting. In response Karai straightened up.

“Unfortunately, we do not. No one knows his true name nor even which district he might live in. If we could get some form of intel on his address or loved ones we could either set a trap for him or arrange a deal in exchange for his family’s safety,” Kitsune said.

“We’re assuming he even has a family to exploit,” Karai said.

“He does,” Shredder said with confidence. “Not much is known about Hun but what is known is that he took a leave of absence from the Dragons for a few years before returning to advance his position. It is likely this leave was to tend to a new family he had built or to be a better man legally for them.”

“Then why come back at all if that was the case?”

“Financial hardship,” Leo said. “It’s what crime typically boils down to. Whatever the reason; medical needs or just plain old inflation, Hun got desperate for cash and fell back into old habits and forged a fast-growing criminal empire on top of that.”

“Whatever the reason,” Shredder said, “killing Hun is still our best bet at destabilizing their organization. We need to either corner Hun and eliminate him ourselves or, if the rumors of his rivalry with his lieutenant Fang are true, then we must use Fang against him.”

“The classic ‘et tu Brute’ scheme. Sounds too good to be true. Even Fang’s not that stupid,” Karai said.

“Then we must take whatever opportunity we can get to rid ourselves of this foe,” Kitsune had said. “No matter what it takes.”

Well, Leo didn’t think it would take backing his brother up for a kidnapping scheme that Raph was already regretting starting or cleaning up his younger brother’s guilt-induced vomit but an opportunity is an opportunity.

#

Hun and the Purple Dragons unload from a squad of vehicles as they pull up to the docks. He doesn’t know what cop or random thug stole his kid but he ain’t about to roll over and watch them do her in.

“—gone soft. I tell ya,” Fang whispers to the others. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time or resources on this kid. How do we know he ain’t actually gonna just hand over our stash when he made us bring—”

“Got a problem, Fang?” Hun asks, his shadow looming over the smaller man.

“Yeah, I do. Casey ain’t a Dragon so why are we sticking our necks out for—”

“Because she’s dragon blood. She’s my kid so that makes her one of us just like your granny is one of us, or Trixie’s kid niece is one of us, or—”

“Okay, okay I get it.”

“You better get it. I’m growing tired of your insubordination, Fang. You want a mutiny just start it already or shut yer yap ‘fore I shut it for you. None of us got time for your petty bullshit right now. Now, fan out and find those miserable punks and my daughter.” Hun turns to the rest of them and raises a fist. “Let the dragon rise!”

“And may his wrath rain down upon them all!” the rest of the Purple Dragons shout in unison, a motto of sorts.

As the Purple Dragons search the area, the Mutanimals sneak past them to find the exact warehouse where Leo, Raph, and Casey are hidden.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” Splinter shouts at them once they enter the room.

“Little louder, Splints. I don’t think the Purple Dragons heard you,” Hob snarks.

“I don’t care! What were you both thinking?!” he screams as he approaches his two eldest sons.

“Dad, I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I mean I was but my thoughts were just about how angry I was that the Dragons were dealing in our neighborhood and I saw red and I did something really, really stupid and—”

“It was my fault, father. When it finally hit Raph what he’d done he wanted to back out of going through with it but I talked him into it,” Leo says, putting himself between Splinter and Raphael.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Donnie exclaims.

“Because he’d already sent a ransom message to Hun and I figured he’d be a target regardless of whether he went through with it or not and that at least going through with it we’d have a chance to take out Hun’s threat once and for all.”

“Dude, you realize how insane that sounds right?” Mikey asks.

“Actually I don’t. This all sounds perfectly reasonable to me considering my whole ‘protect this family at all costs’ mentality.”

“Oh and this’ll protect us? You just ticked off every Purple Dragon in New York,” Donnie says.

“No, just Hun. Fang’s been itching to take over for a while now so this might just be the push to oust Hun from the group because of how much he prioritizes his own family and—”

“ENOUGH!” Splinter yells. “Leonardo, this is the most idiotic, reckless, irrational, and irresponsible plan I have ever—”

“Irresponsible?” Leo asks. “You mean like you leaving your family behind to go help some other family while the Foot attacked our village? Knowing they were after you? Reckless like pissing off the most powerful warlord in all of East Asia at the time? Idiotic like doing this even when you knew his wife and partner in crime was an immortal sorceress?

Irrational

like moving your entire family in with your son’s own kidnappers?”

“Hey! I thought we were past this,” Hob says.

“You stay out of this!” Leo shouts.

“He can stay in this all he likes. My past choices are not up for discussion right now. Your present choices are. You chose to endanger your brother and this family further by carrying out a ridiculous revenge plot against Hun.”

“The Dragons nearly killed Raph last time they were in Mutant Town! Doesn’t that worry you just a little?”

“It does but not nearly enough that I would forget what is right and what is wrong, Leonardo. This is not the way to resolve this or the drug dealing problem.”

“Says the man who couldn’t resolve a conflict to save not only his life but his own sons’ lives as well.”

Splinter inhales sharply.

“Ouch. Low blow, dude,” Mondo says. “Low blow.”

Sally jabs Mondo in the side to shut him up.

“Whatever your problems with me, Leonardo, you do not let them blind your eyes to such wrongdoing by your own hand,” Splinter says softly. “You should never have endangered an innocent like this.”

“Hun’s daughter may not be a Purple Dragon but she’s hardly innocent. She knew of her dad’s crimes and never turned him in. She’s as worthless as they are.”

“Hey!” Casey shouts from the chair she’s tied to, finally having woken up. “I am sitting right here.”

“We’ll untie you,” Ray says, walking past Leo with Hob and a pocketknife.

“Seriously?” Leo asks.

“Yes, seriously,” Splinter says. “And no life is worthless, my son. I would think you more than anyone would remember that.”

Leo turns his head in shame, thinking back to an incident several years prior. Just as Hob is about to cut her free, a bullet flies through the air, knocking the pocketknife from his hand. He startles back in response as the Purple Dragons pour in through the garage door and the windows.

“Look what we got here,” Hun says. “A bunch of freaks trying to kill

my

kid.”

“It ain’t what it looks like, creep. We were just about to untie her when you came in guns blazing,” Hob says.

“A likely story, fleabag.”

“Look, look, here.”

Hob unties Casey and shoves her forward to her father. He holds his hands up in a placating gesture.

“We ain’t got no beef with you. Kids were just being dumb. You know how teenagers can get.” Hob shrugs. “So she’s free. Leo and Raph are grounded for three months—”

“Three months?!” Leo shrieks.

“Wanna make it four?” Hob asks.

“Yeah. Don’t matter too much that you gonna discipline ‘em when this is a step too far. Your kids crossed a line. And the Purple Dragons aren't the type to be crossed. Let’s show ‘em,” Hun says, taking a step forward.

“NO!” Casey shouts, getting in her father’s way, arms held out a her side to block him.

“Case what are ya doing?”

“The mutant’s right. They might’ve kidnapped me but for the most part they’re just a couple of adolescent morons with half a brain cell and a single conscience between them. It’s not worth it. Let the freaks handle them on their own. I just want to go home without anymore blood on my father’s hands than there already is.”

“But—” Hun starts.

“Please, dad,” Casey says in a soft and pleading tone, looking up at her father with deep brown puppy dog eyes.

“Alright,” Hun sighs. “You freaks can live. For now. But know this.”

Hun steps right up to Hob and looks the cat dead in the eye.

“You owe Cassandra your lives.” Hun turns his back on the Mutanimals. “Let’s go guys.”

“I don’t think so,” Fang says, holding a knife to Casey’s throat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hun yells.

“Taking control. You hear this shit, guys?” Fang asks the other Dragons. “He’s letting ‘em walk away with their lives after taking his kid and threatening her life. And all this after he just got done telling us how her being his blood means she’s one of us. Well if he’s willing to let this kind of threat against a Purple Dragon-adjacent like little Casey here go unpunished, even when she’s his own kid, what’s he gonna do when it’s one of our heads on the chopping block?”

As Fang speaks, the rest of the gang trade looks of consideration.

“I been saying it a while now. The great and terrible Hun’s gone soft in his old age. It’s time we cut this dead weight loose and finally show this city what a real dragon is capable of. You with me?”

Several of the thugs shout out their assent. Others still, huddle around Hun out of loyalty while sticking close enough to Fang as if to maybe save Casey from his clutches somehow.

“Dragons, take ‘em out. Show no mercy. May the dragon’s wrath rain down upon them all!”

The Purple Dragons start firing at each other and the Mutanimals as Slash charges at them, barely flinching as the bullets strike his thick leathery skin. He bats several of the thugs away with a single blow while Ray and Sally return fire, striking a handful of Purple Dragons perched atop crates in the windows dead center. The kids duck for cover, either not being used to bullets at all or being used to them enough to know you want to stay out of the line of fire.

As the Purple Dragons fight not only the mutants but their own as well, Hun inches closer and closer to Fang, who still presses the knife against Casey’s throat.

“Not another step, Arnold, or the little princess here loses that pretty voice that you’re so quick to go soft for.”

“I. Am not. A PRINCESS!”

Casey pulls his arm away from her neck and bites down hard on his wrist. She jabs her elbow into his gut then makes a break for it, rushing deeper into the warehouse to where the other kids are hiding from the bullets, leaving her dad to face his would-be usurper. Lucky for Hun, he’s three times as muscular as Fang. And lucky for Fang, he’s a coward who knows when to turn tail and run when he’s outmatched. Unlucky for Fang, Hun’s not as willing to let a death threat against his daughter go unpunished a second time and gives chase.

“Get back here you bastard!” Hun screams.

Leo sees them escaping the warehouse just as Casey reaches them.

“Hey, you guys suck. Like really suck, but you five are way too young to die like this. Follow me,” she says, waving towards a back exit. “We can—Hey!”

Leo breaks off from the rest of the group to run after Hun and Fang, not wanting to pass up a chance to take out the leader of the Purple Dragons when the opportunity presents itself on a silver platter.

“Leo, what are you—” Raph shouts, growling before taking off after his brother. “Follow baby dragon out to safety. I’m going after Leo.”

“That’s not my name, jerk! Ugh. Whatever. Let’s just go. Quickly.”

Raph bashes through a huddle of Purple Dragons, tossing one punk off to the side while he rams another in the gut with his head. He stops a knife from stabbing him in the shoulder before breaking the thug’s hand and flinging him away so he can continue on after his brother. Before he can get very far, however, a small stone gargoyle drops on his head. He stumbles in a daze, nearly righting himself until a second skinnier gargoyle drops on top of him as well, knocking him out cold. The gargoyles stretch out.

“He’s tough. Usually only takes one of us to knock out a potential competitor,” Muninn, the fatter of the two says.

“Yeah, yeah, just help me get him in the bag,” Huginn mutters.

#

Hun tackles Fang to the ground just shy of the dock’s edge. Fang punches him in the face, breaking free of the larger man’s hold. Fang gets to his feet and pulls a knife, stabbing downward at Hun. Hun dodges the attack and rams his fist into Fang’s gut like a wrecking ball before taking a swing at his jaw. He swats the blade from Fang’s hand and grabs him by the collar of his jacket, throwing him into a series of crates nearby.

“Thought you could oust me? ME?! Nah. You know well as I do, there’s only way to leave the Purple Dragons,” Hun says, picking up Fang’s knife, “and I ain’t the one who’s leaving.”

“Hun, Arnold, let’s talk this out, bro to bro. Who helped you out of that rough patch when your wife was sick? Who got you back into the Dragons in the first place? Huh? Huh?”

“That’s the past, Fang. And you only helped me because you owed me for taking the fall for you back in the day. That same favor that got me out of the Dragons the first time. But that debt is repaid. And now,” Fang backs up far enough that he nearly tumbles off the dock but Hun grabs his collar and pulls him in close, “you’re the one who owes me.”

Hun stabs the blade between Fang’s ribs, right into the traitor’s heart and twists the knife in deeper, tearing his heart to shreds. Fang is dead before he falls into the river with hardly a splash, staining the water red.

Hun turns around just narrowly ducking from the swing of Leonardo’s blade as it comes for his head. He bobs and weaves, gaining a little distance from both the edge of the dock and from his would-be assassin.

“What’s your problem, freak? I got no beef with you so long as my little girl’s free to go.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Hun. You may have no beef with the Mutanimals, but I’m no Mutanimal. I am Foot Clan elite and my master has ordered your death.” He levels his sword at Hun. “You won’t be leaving here alive.”

“Neither will your brother,” Casey calls out as she rushes to her father’s side.

“Walk away, Cassandra. Only one person has to die today,” Leonardo says.

Hun clears his throat, looking past Leo at the water where Fang just died.

“Two people,” Leo corrects.

“Oh, is one of those two people your idiot brother in red?”

“Don’t threaten my family unless you want to join your father in the grave.”

“Not a threat dipshit. Two guys just shoved him in a bag and took off before I could stop them.”

Leo narrows his eyes, wondering if she’s even telling the truth.

“They went that way in case you were wondering.” Casey jabs her thumb off to the west. “Now you could stand here and waste your time killing my dad and me or you could go and save your family.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to.”

Casey whips out a handful of firecrackers and throws them at Leo’s feet before he can attack them and runs off with her dad in tow. Leo is about to chase after them when Donnie rushes up to him calling his name.

“Leo! Have you seen Raph?”

“No.” Leo looks back at where the Joneses have run then back to his younger brother. “Why? Isn’t he with you?”

“No. He ran off to stop you from doing something stupid. Fight’s pretty much over. Dragons are scattering like cockroaches. But we can’t find him anywhere.”

“She was right.”

“Who was right?”

“Hun’s daughter. She said two guys took him. She didn’t say who. Might’ve been Dragons might not have been. Even if they were, it’s looking like the gang’s been split down the middle so finding him will be next to impossible at this rate. I shouldn’t have left you guys alone. I shouldn’t have—I should have—”

“Breathe,” Donatello says, gripping Leo by the shoulders and shaking him gently, “Leo. Just breathe. We’ll find him. We’ll get him back. I know we will. But for now, just breathe.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Head? Pounding.

Eyes? Unfocused.

Light? Too bright.

As Raphael comes to, he blinks away the blurry vision and concentrates on what’s in front of him. Then immediately regrets it. He backs away as far as he can, screaming at the sight before him. A giant spider yokai with four large stubby legs, four beefy spider arms, and six beady red eyes looking as if they could pierce his very soul.

“Oh, sorry about that my dear,” the spider woman says.

She taps her broach to grant herself a human-like appearance with pink skin and big white hair wearing a fabulous dress with a fur collar and ruffled purple ascot.

“That better?” she asks.

Raphael gathers his wits and gets to his feet, taking note finally of the fact that metal bars separate the two of them.

“Who are you? Yokai, right? Is this New Shangri-la or one of the other yokai cities?”

“I am yokai indeed and this is New Shangri-la. I go by many names, but my favorite is Big Mama, queen of crime, owner of the Grand Nexus Hotel and Spa, and ruler of the Battle Nexus Arena.”

“That’s a mouthful. I’m just gonna call you BM,” Raphael says with a smirk.

“You will do no such thing,” she growls, changing back into her fearsome spider form briefly before reverting back to her human guise with a friendly smile. “Now then, are you excited to get to work?”

“Work? What the—Why am I here?”

“Good heavens, they haven’t given you the orientation yet? That simply will not do. Allow me to put your ittiest bittiest mind at ease. You are here at the Battle Nexus Arena to fight for the amusement of my patrons. You see, my clientele has gotten bored with the usual run-of-the-mill yokai competitors so I’ve had to step up my game by bringing in fresh blood. After all, what livens things up more than seeing the most normalistic beings like humans or you pathetic mutants fight for your lives against much more powerful yokai opponents? When my head of security, Gus suggested it I thought ‘surely not, such powerless beings will be ripped limb from limbity limb faster than anyone else ever could’.

“But I took the idea out for a spin and found that what you top-siders lack in innate ability or skill, you more than make up for in an undesctructible will to live. You mutants and humans simply refuse to die.” Big Mama pokes her head through the bars to lean in closer to Raphael. “You’re very much like cockroaches in that way.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to fight for you.”

“Yes, you were an unfortunate selection by those gargoyles I hired from Draxum. I figured if it was mutants my audience wanted than who better than the most indefeatable, splendiferic mutants to ever grace the Earth with their presence than the Mighty Mutanimals!” Big Mama spreads her hands above her head in a grandiose gesture before dropping them like a lead balloon at her side with a frown. “But sadly, those peskininny stone dunces grabbed you, a Mutantimal impostitude.” She sighs. “I suppose I will have to make due.”

“You’ll make nothing. Let me out of here you good for nothing—” Raph slams a fist against the bars only to stumble back as if struck, doubling over in pain. “Ugh! What was that?”

“Magic warding against the bars.” Big Mama taps her knuckles against the bars, metal flickering with a magic blue light with each strike. “For every impact they suffer, they return the blow straight back to the offender so that they stay in tippity top shape.” She tilts her head inquisitively. “You must’ve hit rather hard to be in as much pain as you are. I can’t wait for your first cage match. Now sit tight, young turtle. Your first competition will arrive before you know it and I’d rather you not injure yourself too egregiously before then.”

Big Mama walks away with a villainous smirk, her heels clacking against the tiled floors as Raph punches the bars again with a lighter touch than before only for his head to reel back as if he’d just punched himself in the face—which in a way, he did.

#

Alopex is sharp, swift, brutal, and most of all relentless. The arctic fox makes quick work of her opponents, knocking them out of the ring with ease despite jumping her all at once. They hold a bit more seniority than she does but their skills are nothing compared to hers. Some whisper her mutant nature gives her an edge. Others say she cheats. None believe she earned the talent she possesses.

It makes her mad. So mad that she nearly tears the last ninja’s head off when he comes at her. She pins him to the ground and bares her teeth as she moves to deliver a final blow.

“Alopex,” Leonardo calls out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Chunin,” she says, dropping her opponent in order to bow deeply to her superior alongside the rest of the Foot Clan’s members.

He nods his head to the door and turns to leave, expecting her to follow. She does as she’s told even if there are no words. She follows him down the long dark hall. She’s never understood why they don’t keep the place better lit, considering how many of the Foot’s members are mere humans but it’s never been a problem for her. Her eyes are adapted to the dark and her sense of smell more than makes up for it when her eyesight fails her.

She enters the war room behind Leonardo who stops in the middle of the room. He clasps his hands behind his back, keeping it turned to her.

“Close the door,” he instructs.

She does as told.

“What is this about, Chunin?”

“My brother, Raphael.” He turns to face her. “He’s been taken.”

“By whom? An enemy of the Foot?”

“Hard to say. It could be one of the Purple Dragons but there’s no proof. He was last seen at the docks. I want you to go down there and try to pick up his scent. Find him and call me when he’s been located but do nothing else unless he is in immediate danger.”

“And if he is in immediate danger?”

“Then you intervene in order to protect him from anyone or anything that might harm him.”

“Understood, sir. I promise I will find him and he will be returned to you alive.”

His expression sours, eyes hardening into a glower that has Alopex’s warm blood run cold. He shakes his head.

“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep. My brother could already be dead and then your word would be worthless. And if even your word is worthless,” he says, leaning in too close, “then how much could your life possibly be worth?”

She swallows her fear and nods.

“Yes, Chunin, sir. I understand. I promise then that I will find him no matter what state he might be in.”

“Good.” He brushes past her, hands still clasped behind him. “I would hate to have to punish one of the Foot Clan’s most skilled warriors for breaking a promise to their Chunin.”

He exits the room, slamming the door behind him so loudly that it echoes once he’s gone. Though that could simply be the fierce beating of the fox’s heart. She rushes out through the window into the night and makes her way for the docks as instructed.

As she runs the cool autumn air blows past her fur. Many of her mutant allies complain about the chill in the air, most having mere skin and no fur or feathers to keep them warm. For one such as her, the cold air is refreshing, invigorating. It is far more comfortable than the earlier summer heat had been. It’s cozy in a way that reminds her of home.

But her home is gone now. Her family is gone, replaced by a new one that found her in the midst of her home’s destruction. The Foot is all she has left. It is her family now, and she will not let them down.

#

The Mutanimals and Hamatos return home in the wee hours of the morning after a whole night searching for Raphael. No luck. They’re all tired. Mondo, so much so he faceplants onto the couch for some shut eye and promptly begins snoring.

Leo enters the room only a moment later.

“Any luck?” he asks them.

“No,” Donnie answers. “I don’t suppose in your overprotective paranoia you thought to install trackers on Raph and the rest of us, did you?”

“No, but I’ll keep that in mind for next time. First we have to find Raph and bring him home.”

“Perhaps the Purple Dragons took him in retaliation,” Splinter suggests.

“No dice,” Hob says. “We spent the whole night busting up known Dragon dens and none of them knew a damn thing.”

“Are you sure you searched them all?” Splinter asks.

“No, but if one Dragon knew the rest of them would know and at least one would’ve sung like a canary to avoid being left for the cops like the rest of ‘em.”

“Or maybe they wouldn’t. The Purple Dragons are divided now. They might not be as willing to entrust such information with their cohorts as they once were. They are the only ones with motive and opportunity to have taken him. It must be them!” Splinter insists, stamping his staff against the ground.

“Father’s right, for once. Who else would’ve grabbed Raphael?” Leo asks.

“Plenty of people. Cops who showed up on the scene, Foot ninja, rogue EPF agents, generic anti-mutant bigots.” Hob counts on his fingers. “The list is long.”

“I’m pretty sure we can rule out the Foot.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“If the Foot were in the area when Raph was taken, I’d know about it.”

“Look, this is getting us nowhere,” Sally says. “We can debate all we want but it won’t do us or Red any good if we don’t get some sleep. We’ll check out Hun’s place after some rest. Leo said Casey warned him about Raphael getting taken. If anyone can give us some insight it’d be her.”

“I’ll go then,” Leo says.

Ray and Slash, being the biggest two in the room, block the door.

“You ain’t going nowhere, kid. You need sleep same as the rest of us and going out alone is dangerous right now,” Hob says.

“Last I checked you weren’t the boss of me,” Splinter opens his mouth to interject only for Leo to cut him off, “and neither is my father. I’m 18. I make my own decisions.”

“Fine, fine. Just take some water, will you?” Donnie insists, handing him a glass of clear liquid. “You’ve been out all night. You’re probably dehydrated.”

Leo accepts the glass and downs it in one go before handing it back to Donatello. He shoves past Hob and stomps over to the door.

“Now get out of my—my—” Leo says before collapsing into Ray and Slash’s arms before he can hit the ground.

“Sedative in the water,” Hob says. “Good call.”

“It was that or beat him over the head with my bo staff.”

#

After picking up Hamato Raphael’s scent at the docks, Alopex traces the smell to a portal to New Shangri-la, the underground home of the yokai. Alopex has often run errands for Mistress Kitsune to New Shangri-la but she has never particularly enjoyed being around the descendants of her Mistress’s victims.

It is said that hundreds of years ago the inhabitants of the mystic kingdom of Shangri-la lived in isolation, safeguarding their magical knowledge from the rest of the world when a war broke out between Shangri-la's five ruling clans: Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Void. It was then that the ruler of one such faction—the Void Clan—sought out Kitsune for aid. In doing so he brought her unrivaled evil down upon them all. All of Shangri-la were cursed into inhuman forms, not unlike those of a mutant but with Kitsune’s curse mingled with the inhabitants’ own magicks, they all gained not only new forms but new signature powers as well.

Some could teleport. Others could use their bones as weapons. A few could even explode their gooey bodies and regenerate. Regardless of what powers they were granted, the traitor and his entire clan were banished to the Netherworld of demons never to be seen again, whilst the remaining four clans left the ruins of their old home behind to venture into the world beyond and settle into new homes beneath the ground of humans.

The yokai are a fine people, but their powers give Alopex the creeps, making every last hair of her fur stand on end. The one she was most wary of was Baron Draxum who held powers over plant life. Not creepy in and of itself but the man himself was unsettling. He was an animalesque yokai, a goat-man specifically and he fancied himself a “warring warrior scientist”, at least according to his business cards.

Unlike his brethren who chose to pursue the mystic arts solely, Draxum studied ways in which he could meld science and magic together in an unholy combination. And as a baron he held great influence over New Shangri-la. It was why Alopex was hoping she could get this mission over with fast. The less time she had to spend in such a disturbed place, the better.

She follows the scent to the Battle Nexus Arena, a somehow legal gladiator ring despite the contestants often not being there by choice. She weaves through the crowd to catch a glimpse of the fight down below. There she sees him, Raphael, fighting for his life against a yokai twice his size with two snake heads spitting venom and a prehensile tail that slams Raphael back and forth against the ground like he’s a ragdoll. The yokai flings him across the arena and she’s had enough. She turns her back on the fight to make her way to the announcer’s box, hoping to gather more intel in order to stage a rescue later.

She should call the Chunin now. But it would do him no good to be so close to his little brother with no true means of rescue. Surely, he cannot fault her for finding out more about his brother’s captors.

She reaches the announcer’s box just as Raphael eeks out a win, tying the yokai’s two heads together and throwing him into the far wall. She incapacitates the announcer and works on hacking the computer console which doubles as the arena’s security controls. She locates the room Raphael is being kept in between matches and pulls out a radio to contact Foot HQ for backup, only for the radio to be ripped from her paw by a sticky web.

“Oh no, no, no. That simply won’t do,” Big Mama says behind her.

Alopex whips out her twin kama only for those to be torn from her grasp just as quickly. She dodges one assault of sticky webbing only to be caught, wrapped in a cocoon on the second strike. She struggles against the webs to no avail while Big Mama laughs.

“Don’t fight it, dearest. My webs are the durabiliest bindings in the known world. Only I can remove them and I’ll only do so once you’re in your proper cell. I’m thinking of rooming you with that other mutant, the one you were looking for for some inexplicatious reason. Won’t that be fun?”

“You won’t get away with this! My clan will come for us both!” Alopex cries out, unable to move.

“I doubt they’ll be able to do much,” Big Mama crushes the radio under her arachnid foot, “considering your device is in the ittiest bittiest bits.”

Big Mama carries her to Raphael’s cell and throws her in, unwrapping the webs from Alopex’s body. The arctic fox spins a moment as she unravels, before gaining her bearings and striking out. The bars slam in her face and the magic surrounding them deal her blow right back to her.

“Now sit tight, my pets. I’m sure you’ll have plenty more fun soon. Toodles,” Big Mama says, waving them off.

Alopex groans and kicks the cell door, only for the magic to make the stubbed toe feeling ten times worse so she falls on her tail. Raph steps over her and looks down at her outfit: baggy gray pants, a matching crop top with a black hooded cloak over top, and wrappings around her hands, feet, and forearms. Then his eyes fall upon the Foot Clan’s logo; a blood-red footprint, and he picks her up and slams her against the bars.

“Ow! What was that for?” she asks.

“You’re Foot Clan.”

“You noticed.” She rolls her eyes.

“Why are you here? What? Thought it’d be easier to kidnap me when I was already kidnapped?”

“Here to rescue you actually. The Foot have no interest in capturing you anymore.”

“Likely story.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s bullshit is what it—”

Raphael is cut off when Alopex raises her feet to kick him away, freeing herself from his grasp. He stumbles back but remains upright. He takes a defensive stance while she dusts off the remaining sticky webbing from her person.

“Believe what you like,” she says. “It doesn’t change the fact that what I’m saying is the truth. Why do you think you haven’t had any near-abductions the past couple months?”

“I don’t know. What did you guys get bored or something?”

“No. Our priorities just shifted is all. Your residency with the Mutanimals was no longer of any concern so we ceased our abduction efforts.”

“Why was my quote unquote ‘residency with the Mutanimals’ a problem for you guys to begin with?”

“I’m not permitted to speak on that.”

“They gave you direct orders saying ‘don’t tell Raphael why we tried to kidnap him for so many years’?”

“Technically, I was never outright told not to inform you of the reasons, but I assume I’m not allowed to.”

“Then what are you supposed to do?”

She sighs, hanging her head.

“I was supposed to call for backup as soon as I found you. However, I sought more information on your imprisonment and wasted time. I never got the chance to send out a call for help.”

“Not like I’d let them ‘rescue’ me anyway. I don’t trust the Foot farther than—Well, not farther than I can throw them, because I can throw pretty far.”

Alopex snorts a brief laugh at that. He looks at her, raising an eye.

“So, you got a name or...”

“Alopex. And of course, I already know you are Raphael.”

“Well, Alopex, don’t suppose I could convince you to confess to your boss’s motives for trying to abduct me for so long?”

“There’s not a thing you can say or do to get me to change my mind. Anyhow, why are we here? I thought this place only used yokai fighters.”

“Apparently the owner, Big Mama, was looking for something new to spice things up. Hence, her abducting mutants for her stupid fights.”

“Speaking of fights, any idea when we’ll be fighting next?” Alopex sits on the floor, back against the bars with her feet pulled in close to her.

“Probably not for a couple of hours.” Raphael drops into a seat on the back wall. “She’s got plenty of other competitors to make maim and kill each other. But if I had to guess, we’ll probably be pitted against each other at some point.”

“Want me to go easy on you?”

“Sure,” Raph shrugs, “it’ll make it that much easier to break every bone in your evil body.”

“I’d like to see you try.” She smirks.

“Sister, ninja or not I can kick your ass six ways to Sunday.”

“Well,” Big Mama says, looming over them suddenly with a wide smile, “if you two are so keen on fighting each other, perhaps I’ll move up your next match tout suite.”

Alopex and Raphael trade a glance and facepalm at the same time.

#

All is quiet at the Jones household as Hun boards up the windows and sets up traps around the home on the off-chance the now discordant factions of the Purple Dragons or the Mutanimals or cops comes for him. Okay, so things aren’t exactly quiet. It’s loud as fuck with all the hammering, drilling, and sawing of various parts Hun thinks he needs for his traps.

And frankly, Casey was done with it. All of it.

“Dad,” she calls out, her voice unheard from the tools. “DAD!”

“Yeah, Case?”

“Is all of this

really

necessary?”

“Course it is. We got more enemies now than ever before and now most of ‘em know where we live.”

“Dad, I seriously doubt that anyone’s going to come breaking down our door just to kill us.”

And that’s when the Mutanimals break down the Jones’s door, Leo front and center with his swords out.

“We’ve come to kill you,” Leo says.

“

Excuse me?

” Splinter asks, sending his eldest a stern glare.

“Apologies.” Leo nods to his father before turning back to the Joneses. “

I’ve

come to kill you.” Leo jerks his head towards the others. “They’re here to interrogate.”

Hun looks to his daughter with a smug grin and opens his mouth.

“Don’t!” She lifts a finger to stop him. “Say. One. Word.”

With Hun distracted by his arrogance, Hob grabs him by the throat and slams him to the floor, flexing his claws menacingly.

“DAD!”

Casey rushes to her dad’s side only for Donnie and Mondo to hold her back.

“LET GO OF ME!”

She struggles against them until Leo points his sword at her throat, forcing her to still.

“We’ll let you go after you tell us where Raphael is,” Leo says.

“Yeah, right.” Casey rolls her eyes. “You just said you were here to kill us.”

“Technically, I said ‘you’, not ‘both of you’.”

“Really hate the way you phrase things sometimes, Lee. Also, just want to point out that in that same vein of using singular you versus plural; are you saying you’ll let them both go if they tell us where Raph is or just Casey?”

“Yeah! You know that’s a good question. Thank you, Orange!” Casey calls out over Leo’s shoulder.

“Quiet,” Leo tells her.

“Hey, we didn’t do nothing to your brat. Now get out of my home,” Hun barks.

“Nice try. Your daughter was the last one to see ‘em. Now either she told you what she saw and you can tell us,” Hob says, “

or

if she didn’t, then we can threaten ya until she coughs up the info we came for.”

“Uh since when do we threaten people?” Pete asks.

“SINCE THEY TOOK MY KID!” Hob roars.

Splinter clears his throat.

“Our kid,” Hob corrects. “Whatever! Now where the fuck is he?!”

“I don’t know!” Hun yells.

“Baby Hun,” Hob whips his head in Casey’s direction. “where the fuck is Raphael?”

“I’d talk if I were you,” Sally says. “Haven’t seen him this ticked off in a few years.”

“I don’t know. Some freaky gargoyles took him. Didn’t even know mutants came looking all stony like that.”

“Gargoyles?” Hob asks.

“Must be yokai,” Ray says.

“Doesn’t Draxum have gargoyles on his payroll?” Sally asks.

“Don’t know about a Draxum. But the stone-faced idiots that took Raph mentioned someone called Big Mama,” Casey adds.

“Ah shit,” Hob mutters under his breath, releasing his hold on Hun. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Mikey asks.

“New Shangri-La,” Leo answers. “Big Mama’s a crime boss down there. If she took Raph then she probably has him at her gladiator arena, the Battle Nexus.”

“Okay, question: What is New Shangri-La?” Donnie asks as he and Mondo let Casey go.

“It’s a hidden city beneath New York inhabited by mystic beings called yokai,” Hob explains. “Think mutant, but with inherent magic abilities and with a greater variety of forms beyond just animal.”

“Magic powers? Really?” Donnie asks with a hint of skepticism in his voice. “That’s seriously what you’re going with here?”

“Doubt the existence of magic later. Your brother needs us,” Splinter says. “Leonardo, let’s go.”

“You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Leo says, levelling his sword at Hun as Casey crouches down to shield her father.

“Leonardo! Now!”

“I have work to do, father,” he calls back in an irritated tone.

“Is that work more important than our brother?” Mikey asks, stepping towards Leo. “Well? Is it? What if Raph dies because you’re here wasting time with Hun and can’t be there to save him from Big Mama or whoever? Is this ‘work’ really more important to you than Raphael’s life?”

Leo growls, clenching his fist around the hilt of his sword before sheathing the blades.

“It’s your lucky day. But know this: Your time is running out, Hun. And I

will

be back.” Leo turns his back on the Jones family. “Mark my words.”

As Leo brushes past Mikey out the door, Michelangelo waves at Casey awkwardly.

“Uh, sorry for...” he gestures at the room and the broken door, “everything. Uh, goodbye.”

“Dang Mutantimals,” Hun mutters. “Freaks as they are, I never woulda guessed they were in bed with the Foot.”

“The Foot? Who said anything about the Foot Clan?” Casey asks as she helps him off the floor.

“That blue one did. What’d they call him? Leo? Last run in he said he was Foot Elite and that his boss ordered a hit out on me.”

“WHAT?! You should’ve led with that!”

“Didn’t want to scare ya too bad.”

Casey runs over to the wreckage of the door, grabbing the power drill.

“Uh what are ya doing?”
he asks.

“We need to fortify our defenses. Our enemies could come knocking at any second. And if Leo the Loser is to be believed, they’ll be back sooner rather than later. So, you going to help me fix the damn door, or do I have to do everything myself?”

Hun smiles down at his daughter with pride.

“That’s my girl.” He runs a hand across her closely shorn hair. “Now come on. Doors split in half can’t be fixed. I know a 24-hour hardware store that we can buy a new one at.”

“What about the house? Someone needs to stay and guard it.”

“Good point,” Hun hands her his wallet. “You go to the store. I’ll stand guard. It’s me they want, so if they show up here, I’d rather be here to defend myself rather than risk you getting taken as bait again. Think you can handle the job?”

“You got it, boss.” Casey salutes her father on her way out the door.

#

Back at the Battle Nexus, Raphael and Alopex are corralled into the arena by Huginn and Muninn using electric cattle prods. They’re forced onto opposite sides of the battlefield before the gargoyles remove their handcuffs. They both immediately grab the cattle prods from the pair of Yokai and zap them to no avail given their stony exteriors, Muninn laughing and declaring the sensation to be ticklish rather than painful. Huginn slaps the prod out of Alopex’s hand and flies out of her reach when she grabs for him instead.

“You’re not going to catch me, and you’re not getting out of here. You’ll have to fight and if you don’t, Big Mama will just kill you both by flooding the arena with poison gas,” Huginn calls down to her.

“What about the audience?” she asks, gesturing to the seating area.

“What part of magic security features makes you think that’s an issue? The Battle Nexus Arena has a forcefield around the top of the battlefield preventing fliers from escaping that way, works wonders on keeping toxic gas inside too. Welp, good luck!”

Huginn flies out past Raphael, Muninn joining him after circling Raphael a couple of times like a buzzing mosquito the turtle keeps failing to swat. Raph rushes at the exit, slamming into the freshly brought up forcefield and pounding his fist against it only to get zapped.

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” the audience cheers.

“Welcome, honored yokai, to the Battle Nexus!” Big Mama announces over the big screen. “Today’s fight will be held not between two over own kind but instead a pair of simple mutants. But they are not just any mutants. In the red corner we have the teenaged rebel and honorary member of the mutant freedom fighters known as the Mighty Mutanimals. In the blue corner we have a member of the ever-elusive ninja clan known as the Foot. Who will come out on top? The turtle with an unpredictable guerilla warfare style or the ninja with more precise combat training? Let the Battle Nexus match begin!”

“Unpredictable?” Alopex scoffs. “Please, you Mutanimals are about as predictable as they get.”

“If you say so. So, we doing this or what?” Raph asks as they approach the center of the ring.

“After you.” She gestures for him to attack first.

“Scared?”

“Hardly. I just have orders not to harm you, and well, if I attack first that would be working against those orders. Now, wouldn’t it?”

Raphael growls.

“Why? Why don’t the Foot want to hurt me or kidnap me anymore? What’s their game?” he demands.

She smirks.

“Guess you’ll just have to beat the answers out of me. I mean, if you think you

can

beat me.”

Raphael charges at her with his fists. She dodges the first strike but takes the second one hard, slamming across the room into the far wall.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt,” Big Mama says.

Alopex stumbles then steadies herself after the blow, holding her ribs.

“That strength. I heard you were stronger than normal, but I didn’t think—Ow!”

“Still think I can’t beat you, foxy?”

He rushes at her again while she’s doubled over. She leaps over him as he slams his fist into the wall and kicks him in the plastron midair as he turns to strike a second time. He collides with the boundary as she lands on her feet with grace.

“Not bad, foxy. Moves like that you’d think you were a ballerina in a past life.”

“My name is Alopex.”

She spins to evade another attack from him before kicking him in the rear to send him to the ground.

“But yes, I do some ballet in my spare time. You wouldn’t believe the amount of muscle control the dance form requires.”

She smiles down at him. He returns it with a smirk as he gets to his feet and charges at her again, fists flying as she bobs and weaves around each hit.

“Seriously? Just punching?” She laughs. “And Big Mama said you were unpredictable.”

She trips him up and lets him fall.

“I am.” He grabs a handful of dirt and throws it in her face before tackling her across the arena and pinning her to the wall. “Now tell me why the Foot was after me. Why aren’t they after me anymore? What orders do you have exactly?”

She pulls her legs up between them and gives him a hard shove, tucking and rolling aside before he can reach out and grab her again once he’s recovered from the push.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, shell for brains.”

He smirks and they continue their match, Raph mostly punching with the occasional kick to the gut that sends her flying and her mostly avoiding causing him actual harm and prancing around him as if they were dancing rather than fighting.

#

The Foot Clan gears up, donning their ninja garb and weaponry as they prepare an assault against the Battle Nexus and its host in an effort to retrieve Raphael. Kitsune enters the room as Leo puts on his helmet.

“What happened with Alopex? She should’ve been the one to find Raphael,” Leo says.

“I am uncertain. My ability to sense her has been cut off. No doubt given the various magicks of New Shangri-la. It is likely she was captured alongside your brother at this little arena.”

“She was supposed to call for backup.”

“She could have been caught while doing recon. We don’t know for certain that she tried to act on her own.”

“We also don’t know that she didn’t. Regardless, you insisted on her induction into the Foot on the basis that she had the potential to be a formidable warrior.”

“And she has proven herself time and again.”

“Against the lesser ninja within our ranks. She has not even seen the field of battle, never been on a mission so much as running errands for you.”

“What exactly are you implying?” Kitsune asks with narrowed eyes.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying quite directly that your pet fox isn’t as competent as you made her out to be. I will be speaking with Master Shredder about having her sent on more field missions as soon as my brother is safe.”

“Alopex is more than competent enough. For all we know she may very well be the only thing keeping him alive in that barbaric arena even as we speak.”

#

Alopex kicks Raphael in the plastron, knocking him to the ground.

“Are you actually going to beat me or do you just like getting your ass kicked?” she asks.

“Pretty sure it wasn’t my ass that you just—” Raphael starts, cutting off as the lights overhead flicker and shake.

The lighting structure swings as the lights go out, coming back on to reveal a horde of Foot ninja alight across the lighting and rafters. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them.

“Oh look, the cavalry arrived,” Alopex says.

The ninja drop down causing mass panic in the audience, sending them scattering as a small group breaks off to disable the magic forcefield above the arena. Big Mama cuts off the big screen before leaping from the announcer’s box to fend off the intruders, swatting them aside with bursts of web goo, keeping them away from the arena.

Raphael’s eyes catch on the Chunin, staring down at him. Raph turns away and tackles Alopex to the ground, pinning her down.

“Why do they want me? Talk!” he roars.

“I already told you, I can’t say.”

“You also said that I could beat the answers out of you. Well, you’re beat. I got you pinned. Now answer me!”

“Like my mistress always says: never trust a fox to honor their word.”

Alopex tries to kick him off to no avail.

“Nice try, sister. That won’t work a third time.”

“No? Then how about this one?”

She uses her tail to brush under his arm, causing him to twitch as her fur tickles him. He doesn’t release her but the distraction is enough to loosen his grip. She takes the advantage to slip her hand from his grasp and shove him off, rolling them over so she can jump away from him. She glances up at the Chunin and sees displeasure written in his eyes as she runs off to join the other ninja who have finally disabled the forcefield.

Raphael gets up to go after her but the Mutanimals burst in through the ceiling in their war tank. They land with a bang inside the arena as the Foot continue to battle Big Mama and the Battle Nexus staff. Hob opens the passenger door to the tank.

“Get in!” he yells.

Raph takes only a moment to look back up at Chunin and Alopex before rushing to the safety of his family’s vehicle.

“Raphael!” Splinter cries out as Raph enters.

Raph embraces him and Hob as tears stream down his face.

“Get us out of here. Now!” Raph calls out to Sally in the driver’s seat.

“Hang on!” she calls back before pushing the tank at full throttle to slam through the arena walls and break through to the freedom of the New Shangri-la streets, weaving through the Yokai traffic to find the exit.

“You alright, bro?” Mikey asks.

“No. I’m not. The Foot Clan was there. They came for me. I’d probably be their prisoner right now if you guys hadn’t shown up.”

“Good thing we did then,” Donnie says. “But I can’t help but wonder how they knew you were here to begin with.”

“Alopex—a mutant who works for them—said they sent her to rescue me. She didn’t say how they knew I even needed rescuing. All she’d say is that the Foot Clan aren’t interested in kidnapping me anymore, which—” Raph scoffs, “—as if!”

Raphael glances around and sees someone missing.

“Hey, where’s Leo?”

“Leo said something about approaching the rescue mission from another angle and that he’d meet back with us at home later.”

“Another angle? What does that mean?”

Donnie just shrugs while Mikey looks away almost guiltily.

#

Alopex stands at attention at the foot twin thrones. On one sits Oroku Saki, the Shredder, the most dangerous ninja of all time. On the other sits her mistress, Kitsune, demigoddess of foxes, master of illusion, trickery, and dark magic. Around her circles, Leonardo, the Chunin of the Foot Clan.

“What happened tonight?” Leonardo asks in a hardened tone. “I saw you fighting my brother. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“The Yokai known as Big Mama threatened to kill us both if we didn’t fight,” Alopex says in an even tone. “I had no other choice. I did my best to ensure I remained solely on defense and that Raphael was the only one truly seeking to do damage.”

“And what about what you two were talking about when the fight ended? He said you told him to beat answers out of him. What answers did he mean?”

“He wanted to know why the Foot have been trying to abduct him for years and why we’ve suddenly stopped. I told him to try and beat the answers out of me to get him to fight me in the ring so Big Mama wouldn’t flood the arena with poison gas to kill us both.”

“So, you would’ve confessed to the Foot’s secrets if he had beaten you?” Shredder asks.

“No, Master. I was never going to tell him a thing.”

Leonardo brings his sword to her throat. She gasps in fear and flinches. The blade stops just before breaking her skin.

“So, you mean to say that your word is worthless, then?” Leonardo asks, looking her dead in the eye with a cold expression.

“No, Chunin Leo. You can trust my words. I only meant that he could not.”

“What is the difference then? Hm? If anyone can not trust your words then how do we know that

we

can? For all we know, you are lying to us with every breath you take at this very moment. And like I said before, if your word is worthless then so too is your life.”

“Alopex is a loyal asset to the Foot Clan,” Kitsune says. “She owes us her life for saving her from Alaska.”

“Plenty of people owe us their lives that does not guarantee they would not betray us if given the opportunity,” Leonardo says.

“The Chunin speaks the truth. Often times people’s greed or self-preservation overpowers their sense of loyalty or duty,” Shredder adds. “Her word alone cannot be trusted.”

A bead of sweat trickles down Alopex’s forehead, wetting her white fur.

“Then it is a good thing I have the power to ensure she can never betray us.” Kitsune raises a hand, clenching it as if she were grasping Alopex’s very heart.

Alopex’s body tenses like it were a marionette being pulled by strings. She lifts briefly into the air before dropping down into a bow on one knee.

“My life is yours. My words are yours. My body, mind and spirit all belong to you, Masters,” the words force themselves from her throat as Kitsune’s power surges through her.

Kitsune relaxes her grasp and Alopex nearly collapses entirely from the weight of the demigoddess’s power being lifted so suddenly. Her breath turning ragged and gasping from not having been able to even breathe as Kitsune controlled her so thoroughly.

“Satisfied, my love?” Kitsune asks the Shredder.

“I am.” Shredder nods before looking to Leonardo. “What say you, Chunin?”

“Truthfully, I am not fully satisfied, but if you have no objections to Mistress Kitsune’s wish to allow Alopex to continue living then I shall hold no objections of my own.”

“So be it.” Shredder nods. “Alopex, you are dismissed until further notice. Prior to the rescue mission, my Chunin has suggested that you be given more field work more befitting of a ninja than a simple errand girl as my wife has had you acting as. I agree with this proposal. Henceforth, you shall be delegated to reconnaissance and corporate espionage work. You will return to your quarters tonight and await further instructions. We shall have real work for you scheduled by daybreak.”

“Yes, Master Shredder.”

Alopex bows and exits the room, slowly returning to her room even as her pounding heart insists she run far more swiftly than propriety would allow. She cannot show fear not even for a moment lest her masters be more displeased than they already are. She enters her cramped and barren space no bigger than a broom closet and drops down onto the cot. Once the door is locked she lets out a sob of relief at having been spared from death.

Kitsune is right. She owes them her life. They saved her once and even now they offer her a chance at continued existence. She owes them life. She owes them everything.

So why does her body shake with terror even in the comfort of her own home?

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Splinter pours tea for Leo, Donnie, and Mikey in the kitchen, enjoying their usual Sunday morning routine.

“Pinkies out,” Mikey says before sipping on his tea.

“Why?” Donnie asks.

“I saw it on TV. You’re supposed to drink tea with your pinky out.”

“That’s stupid.”

“And inaccurate,” Leo says. “Holding your pinky out is an outdated practice stemming from a time when teacups were larger and easier to spill. The pinky being held out supposedly helped the teacup stay balanced.”

“And you know that obscure, random piece of trivia how exactly?” Mikey asks.

“Heard it from someone who knows a lot about old and outdated—”

A knock at the door cuts Leo off. He gets up to check it out, wondering if April is there. He peers through the peephole and finds not April but rather a strange woman with shoulder-length black hair and glasses. Leo pulls out a pair of daggers.

“Who is it, my son?” Splinter asks.

“Don’t know but I don’t like that they’re here. This place is supposed to be top secret right?”

“Except from the other mutants in the neighborhood, but judging from your behavior I’m going to guess it’s not a mutant,” Donnie says.

“Human.”

The woman keeps knocking and the Mutanimals charge in from the hall, practically falling over themselves to reach the door.

“I got it!” Mondo yells.

“No, I got it!” Raph shouts, shoving Mondo to the floor.

Hob vaults over them both and nudges Leonardo aside to reach the door.

“No. I got it.” Hob opens the door. “Come on in, Lindsey. Great to see ya, as always.”

“Uh, who is this?” Leo asks, glaring daggers at the woman while the physical daggers remain in his hands.

“Hamatos, meet Dr. Lindsey Baker, the Mutanimals personal therapist,” Mondo says, gesturing to Lindsey with both hands.

“Please just say Hamato family. You don’t add an S to make things plural in Japanese, especially if it’s a name,” Leo groans.

“I’ll stop butchering the Japanese language once you stop whipping out weapons every time you see someone you don’t like.” Mondo points to the daggers.

With a sigh, Leo puts them away and crosses his arms.

“Fine. What’s your therapist doing here anyway?”

“Today’s therapy day,” Sally explains. “It’s the one day every month where Lindsey comes by to spend the whole day doing sessions with each of us. Mostly to help relieve stress, sometimes to alleviate whatever new traumas have been brought up.”

“Either way we’re always happy to see her,” Ray says. “We find the household is a lot calmer the day or two following her visits.”

“Uh what is therapy exactly?” Mikey asks.

“It’s basically a mental health checkup,” Raph says. “You talk to the therapist about the stuff that’s on your mind and try to work through any mental health problems you may be dealing with.”

“Mental health?” A surge of panic rushes through Michelangelo. “Uh, you know what? I’m just going to be in my room until Lindsey leaves. Kay? Kay.”

Raph grabs him and pulls him back before he can run out of the living room.

“Aw, come on, Mikey. You’ll love this. We all need some therapy every now and again.”

“And considering you guys have spent your whole lives isolated from the world, I’d say you all really need this,” Hob adds.

“I’m not broken!” Mikey screams, shoving Raphael away.

Everyone stares at Mikey as he begins hyperventilating.

“Mikey, no one’s saying you’re broken,” Donnie says.

“Well, it sounds like you are!” Mikey yells.

“I know I was against having a stranger in the house, but maybe Michelangelo would benefit from having the first session,” Leo says.

“No!” Mikey yells.

“I agree,” Lindsey says. “Clearly this has left Mikey with some level of agitation. It would be beneficial for him to take some time to relax first. Let’s start with someone else first, hm. Donatello, would you like to go first?”

“Uh, yeah okay, sure. Mikey are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be in my room.” Mikey then hurries out of the living room.

“You’re still going to have to do therapy!” Raphael calls at his back. “You’re only delaying the inevitable you know!”

Mikey slams the door behind him as he enters his bedroom and drops down onto the floor to cry while curling up inside his shell. Raphael is right. He is only delaying the inevitable. And it has always been inevitable that the rest of them would find out how truly broken he is.

#

Lindsey guides Donnie to the Mutanimals’ designated therapy space, a decently sized study with a pair of russet brown armchairs on either side of the room, a warmly painted shade of yellow. She takes the seat on the far side of the room—her designated spot, while Donatello takes the seat closest to the door, a tactic meant to show the patient that they are not trapped within the space and that no one can or will try to stop them from leaving if they so wish.

She hopes Michelangelo knows that therapy is nothing to fear. Her profession gets such a bad rep from media portrayals.

“So, Donatello, may I call you Donnie or do you prefer Don?”

“Donnie’s fine. Don’s only really used when my brothers are annoyed with me and Father’s really the only one who typically uses the full Donatello.”

“When he’s cross with you or in general that’s just what he refers to you as?”

“Usual. He’s pretty formal and typically sticks to the full names with us kids.”

“I see. Well, Donnie tell me a little about yourself. Hob gave me a brief overview. You like science and are pretty chill but you’re not afraid to call people out when they deserve it—”

“You mean like Leo?”

“Hob mentioned your brother. He said you don’t particularly like him all that much. Is that correct?”

“I like him just fine. He’s my brother you know? But he always acts like he’s better than us and father, like he’s the only one who knows how life works and that he has to keep us in line to protect us. It’s infuriating, especially when he’s discrediting our father like he’s a bad dad or something.”

“You see him as a good father?”

“Of course! He loves us, he keeps us fed and healthy, he isn’t too strict, and he encourages our passions. Like when we were little and Mikey started painting all over the walls with raw sewage? Most parents apparently would’ve grounded him for that but dad just snuck out of the sewers to search for a paint set he could use instead of the gunk that kept making us sick whenever we tried to swim in it. And then there was the time I took apart the VHS player and TV we managed to find and instead of getting mad he helped me figure out how to piece it back together in a combined configuration. He’s the best and yet Leo acts like nothing he does is ever good enough and I’m sick of it.”

“Have you ever asked Leo why he feels this way?”

“I have but he just shuts me down or changes the subject every single time. Like, be upset if you want but at least explain why you’re upset otherwise leave the attitude at the door.”

~ ~ ~

Sally’s session is next. She slouches in the armchair, one foot propped up on the seat.

“How am I adjusting?” Sally asks rhetorically, thumbs tapping her folded arms. “Oh you know, the Hamato family are great it’s just that with more than double the amount of teenagers in the house and with Hob and Splinter bickering off and on it all just feels a tad claustrophobic.”

“What have you been doing to cope?”

Sally shrugs.

“Not much. Mostly keeping to myself or going out on the town with my gal, Lisa.”

“How is Mona Lisa, by the way?”

“She’s doing fine. Just got a new modelling gig for some high-end company that’s trying to look progressive by promoting more and more mutant fashion.”

“You think the promotion is shallow,” Lindsey says in observation more than question.

“Of course. It’s like rainbow capitalism only for mutants.” Sally ponders this a moment. “Do you think mutants need a pride flag? Maybe something with animal print.” She shakes her head. “No that’s lame. Forget I said anything.”

~ ~ ~

Ray leans forward in the chair, a wide grin on his face as his hands move animatedly in front of him.

“And then Donnie upgraded the circuit board for the new navigation system so fast I barely had time to blink. I’m telling you, the kid’s a real prodigy. Might even be smarter than me one day.”

“Do you feel threatened by this at all?”

“Pfft. Nah! Truth be told, I’m psyched. I never had someone to geek out with over this stuff before and getting to play mentor to a young protégé is hype as shit. And seeing him pick things up so fast he manages to outdo me at times? Whoever said ‘the student has become the master’ never mentioned the amount of pride the teacher always feels in that moment. I swear I feel like a proud papa and I ain’t even his dad.”

“Do you want to be a dad someday?”

Ray considers this a moment, face screwed up in thought.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Probably not though. I like being the fun science uncle more. Less responsibility.”

“As opposed to the amount of responsibility you would hold if Donatello ever got injured in the lab on your watch?” Lindsey peers over her glasses with a smirk.

“Oh real funny, doc. Better not jinx it. Knock on wood and all that.”

Ray then raps his knuckles against the wooden frame of the door.

~ ~ ~

“How are you doing, Pete? You seem to be missing quite a few feathers this time.”

“Oh you know, just stress plucking,” Pete says, pulling at the feathers on his arm.

“Because of the amount of people in the house now?”

“Oh no, having the Hamato family move in has been great. There’s just been a few crazy incidents lately.”

“Like what?”

“Getting abducted by Stockman, the Purple Dragon riot—you might have heard about that one,” Lindsey nods in confirmation as he counts on his talons, “—there was this incident where some sort of demigod or whatever called the Rat King took over Splinter’s mind. That was

not

fun. I also got mind-controlled by a different demigod that time but the one who took me over was nice and it didn’t feel too bad. Still, a little unnerving to know I can have my mind taken over like that. Then there was the time Raph kidnapped Hun’s daughter and then got kidnapped himself by Yokai and forced to fight a Foot ninja in the Battle Nexus Arena.”

“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot recently.”

“Uh-huh,” Pete whimpers, nodding shakily as tears prick the corners of his eyes and he plucks another handful of feathers out of his skin.

Lindsey passes a box of tissues to him and he takes them gingerly with thanks before blowing his beak. He lets out a sob, cradling his face in his hands.

“It’s just so much. We’ve already been through a lot in the past and just when things feel like they’ve settled down, like progress has been made and mutants can be left to live our lives in peace more craziness is thrown our way and it’s just... too much. I can’t—I can’t take it anymore.”

He lets the tears flow freely and Lindsey rests a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him.

“I know it’s hard. But you have an entire family—a growing family—that you can lean on for support. The weight of all this is a heavy burden but it’s easier when you share it with others. In the meantime, would you like a hug before our session’s over?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

Lindsey wraps her arms around him and holds him for a while before they continue. Pete’s a good guy. He just holds so much inside himself so as to not burden anyone else and make them feel bad too.

~ ~ ~

Slash is next. When Lindsey first started working with the Mutanimals it had taken a while for them to develop a sign language Slash could use. That alone had been the brunt of their sessions at first. Nowadays, Lindsey is an expert at MSL—Mutant Sign Language, a variant of sign developed for people with three fingers that has been adopted in other areas beyond New York by deaf people who are missing fingers as well.

It too noisy all the time now

, Slash signs.

There too many people. Too much energy, good and bad. The kids extra active and grown ups fight a lot, mostly Hob and Splinter. Too loud, messy, and chaotic. Been locking myself in my room more often these days with noise-cancelling headphones just to get peace.

“Have you expressed this discomfort with the others?”

No. Doubt it help in long run. Sure they might curb behavior for time but with teens and conflict in house it only matter of time before things return to normal.

“Perhaps, but you won’t know for sure unless you communicate your feelings with them. Things only started changing a month ago. These things take time and they work better when you let your thoughts and feelings be known.”

Slash nods with understanding.

Be honest, we Mutanimals not very good at communicating, are we?

Lindsey lets out a brief chuckle.

“No, you are not,” she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “but believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

~ ~ ~

“It’s Splinter, right? Or do you prefer Hamato Yoshi?”

“Splinter is fine.”

“So, Splinter. I understand things have been rough going for you lately. Is that correct?”

“I will admit things did start out fairly rocky. God knows that Hob and I haven’t exactly been on the best of terms. I made some quick and rash judgements and took too long to ease up on them. But, I would say we’ve finally managed to see eye to eye at last.”

~ ~ ~

“I’m constantly walking on eggshells around ‘im,” Hob says. “The guy hates my guts and I don’t know how to make him not hate me just for looking out for Raph all these years. Ain’t my fault he got separated from the kid. He attacked me. I just reacted. If he hadn’t been so quick to assume shit things wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

“Why would I do that? Think I’m trying to start shit? If I talked to ‘im about all this he’d just get defensive and accusatory and then we’d be fighting and then Sally would kick us out for a few hours, again.”

“I see. Is it possible that things have actually cooled down between the two of you and that now you’re the one jumping to conclusions?”

“No.” Hob pauses to think. “Why? Did Splinter say something different?”

Lindsey leans back, folding her arms over her chest as she raises a brow at him.

“Right. Right. Doctor patient whatever.”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, yes. You know I can’t tell you what we’ve talked about without his permission.”

“Alright, but I still say that talking to Splints ain’t going to do nothing but bring me trouble. Or get me in trouble with the others. Sally especially.”

“She still acting like a mother hen, I take it?”

“Or the annoying bossy little sister I never wanted.” Hob shrugs. “Eh, she ain’t bad. And I get it. If I were in her position I’d throw Splinter and I out too.”

“Does she do that often?”

“Only every time we fight.”

“When was the last time that happened?”

Hob opens his mouth to answer but stops to think on it for a moment.

“Actually, it’s been a couple weeks now since our last real fight.”

“So, do you think that’s maybe a sign that things have finally settled down between you two?”

“Ah, I see what you did there. Clever. Real smart.”

Lindsey adjusts her glasses with a smirk.

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

#

Raphael knocks on his little brother’s door. He pokes his head in and finds Mikey curled up on the bed in the dark.

“Hey, Mike, you okay?”

Mikey groans in response.

“Do you want the next session?”

“No!”

Raphael sighs.

“You know you’re going to have to have a session one way or another right? It’s not even a bad thing. You’re acting like it’s a punishment or something but therapy is really beneficial. It’s helped me a ton.”

“Yeah well you’re not crazy,” Mikey mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just give the next session to someone else. I’m tired and I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Alright then. Whatever you say, bro.”

After Raphael closes the door behind him he presses his ear to it and hears muffled sobs from Mikey’s room. He doesn’t know what’s got his brother so freaked out about therapy but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with what Mikey said about being crazy. Why Michelangelo would think himself crazy he’s not sure.

He figures maybe those bullies called him that among other awful names, but since Leo threatened them, they haven’t seemed to want to bother Mikey at all. So if it is the bullies why hasn’t this sort of stress calmed down yet? Then he remembers.

Mikey got notes added to his SGC on the first day. While he might not have mentioned anything since then, it’s not impossible that Mikey’s been worried about whatever was written in, especially since he got detention that one time.

Could Mikey be struggling in school? Behavioral issues? Signs of mental illness of some kind? Mikey does have certain traits of ADHD, but that’s nothing to freak out about. Besides, Splinter surely would’ve brought it up if that was the case.

But he’ll have to talk to Splinter later. Right now, it’s time for his therapy session.

#

“So, Raphael, where do you want to start this session off first?” Lindsey asks.

Raph takes a deep breath.

“Stockman.”

“He abducted you again, right?”

“Yes. Me and everyone else. He caught us all. So, there wouldn’t have been anyone to come rescue us. If Leo hadn’t have dislocated his thumbs and feet to slip out of the restraints who knows what would’ve happened.”

“He dislocated his feet? Thumbs I’ve heard of. I didn’t even know feet could dislocate.”

“Well they can and Leo can apparently do that.” Raph looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “I had another dissociative episode during that whole thing. Just a panic attack that got away from me. Almost ran through the building and out a window. Splinter and Hob had to catch me before I plummeted to my death.” He pauses. “I don’t really remember that.”

“That’s what makes it a dissociative episode.”

“Yeah. But you know the weird thing is that that whole fiasco isn’t what’s been bothering me most this month.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” He takes another breath, steeling his nerves to talk about his problems. “The thing that’s been bothering me the most is that I became a hypocrite. I hate kidnappers, whether it be Stockman or the Chunin or whoever. Yet when the Purple Dragons started selling Ooze in Mutant Town I decided to go after their boss’s daughter and kidnapped her, even texted Hun a ransom note demanding he turn over the Ooze or else. How messed up is that? Me, a kidnapper.” He sighs. “It still keeps me up at night.”

“What was going through your mind when it occurred?”

“Nothing really. Just that I had to put a stop to the Ooze-selling. I didn’t have a plan when I went over to their house to confront them. Just was expecting to find Hun rather than his kid. God, I messed up.”

“But you fixed it, right?”

“Yeah, after my dads showed up with the others to read me the riot act. I should’ve just left Casey at her doorstep instead of taking her but then Leo got it in my head that if we didn’t take her it would’ve been just as bad as if we did and I don’t know how he talked me into going through with it or how he was so cool with being my accomplice...”

“Sounds more like he made you his accomplice.”

“Yeah sort of. But it was me. It was all me. I started it. I went over there. I knocked out Casey. I sent the ransom text. It was all me. I kidnapped her. I’m a kidnapper. How fucked up is that?”

“It’s pretty fucked up, but the fact that you regret your actions shows you have a good heart and a strong conscience. Sure, it’s a little slow to show up at times, but it’s there and it’s proof you’re a good person.”

“Yeah maybe,” he says, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

“Let’s switch topics for now, shall we? How have things been on the Foot front? The Chunin make anymore moves against you?”

“No, and that’s the most freaky thing about this whole dumbass month. It’s like the Foot just suddenly lost interest. Except I know they haven’t because when Yokai abducted me, they sent this mutant fox ninja named Alopex to ‘rescue’ me. The Chunin showed up as her backup later. She said they don’t have any interest in kidnapping me anymore but how am I supposed to believe that when they send out rescue missions for me? I don’t know what they want from me. And not knowing is the most anxiety-inducing part about this.

“Because if I don’t know what they want, then I don’t know how to counter them. I don’t know how to protect myself. I don’t know when or where they’ll show up. I don’t know if I’m safe or not. But it feels like I’m less safe than when they were actively trying to abduct me, because now it feels like they’re biding their time for the perfect opportunity to strike and I’ll never see it coming.

“I need to face the Chunin again. I need to stop him, once and for all or else I’ll always be living with this undying fear for myself and for my family, both the old and the new. I have to take him down myself otherwise I might never sleep again.”

Lindsey places a hand against his knee.

“You’ve been dealing with a lot. You’re carrying the burden of so much trauma and guilt and fear and I’m sure it must feel like you have to carry this burden alone, that you have to be strong enough to shoulder it all by yourself but you don’t. True strength isn’t about solving your problems alone. It’s about having the courage to ask for help.”

#

“This is stupid.”

“Why do you say that, Leonardo?” Lindsey asks.

Leo sits across from her one leg crossed over the other and arms folded over his chest. Today he wears a black graphic tee from some emo band or another and black jeans. Lindsey tries not to let clothing speak for her patients. Judging a book by its cover hardly ever works anyhow, though what she’s heard about Leo’s attitude makes it hard not to read into his attire. Perhaps that’s the point.

“Look, I get that you have a job to do, but this is a waste of my time. I don’t need therapy.”

“I find the ones who say they don’t need therapy are the ones in most desperate need of it.”

“That’s not me.”

“I see. So, tell me is this argument just a general disagreement or a symptom of your immense disdain for authority?”

“I don’t have a disdain for authority. I have a disdain for people who lie and break their promises.”

“Like who?”

“My father.”

Lindsey jots down a note in her little booklet. Leo unfolds himself and sits forward more.

“Let me guess. This is the part where you dissect my relationship with my father, right? Instead of mommy issues like most people in therapy have, you want to get to the root of my daddy issues, right?”

Lindsey gives him a nonplussed look.

“Actually, the mommy issues thing is just a stereotype. But please, do tell me all about your father and how he lies to or disappoints you.”

Lindsey continues writing in her notepad.

“Where do I start? Oh, I know. Let’s start with the day my mother died.”

She looks up at him at that, pen stilling upon the page.

“You remember your mother’s death? As I understand it, she died when you were rather young... and in a previous life.”

“I remember my mother. Bits and pieces at least. She was kind and loving and wholly honest. Far more honest than father ever was at least. I remember being very little and knowing my father had promised to protect her and my brothers from the Shredder.”

“The Shredder?”

“Oroku Saki, longtime friend of my father’s turned his sworn nemesis. Father and he used to be part of the same ninja clan—the Foot—until father disrespected the Shredder in front of his men and left the clan. Saki was patient and lenient with him given their history, otherwise he’d have killed him on the spot and neither I nor my brothers would’ve ever been born. But father couldn’t leave well enough alone. He had to disrespect Saki further and thwart his attempts at conquering several villages. Never mind the target that put on his back and the backs of his wife and sons.”

Leo sucks in a deep breath, bowing his head into his hands.

“I remember the night she died. My mom. My brothers and I were sleeping peacefully when there was a loud banging on the door. A fire had broken out in the village and the neighbors were begging father to help given it had been started by members of the Foot. They knew

they

could count on him. Not like

we

could. He ran off into the night to help while my mother watched over us. Then not long after he left, a flaming arrow shot through the window and struck my mother in the chest.

“She was engulfed in flames before we could react. I had already been awake but at that point, my brothers woke up crying and screaming in fear. I had to hold them back, away from mother so they wouldn’t get hurt too. More fire arrows came in and set the house on fire and all I could do was huddle in the corner with my brothers, trying to protect them. All the while, my mother is on the ground, fighting back tears as she burns to death before my eyes telling me that ‘It’ll be okay, Ryu’ and ‘I love you and your brothers very much’ and ‘I will be with you always, I promise’.”

Leo pauses to take a few deep breaths, clutching the fabric at his knees like a lifeline.

“That last one was the only promise I can remember her ever breaking. Unlike my father. He broke promises left and right. That night was just the first time I realized I couldn’t depend on him. He lied when he said he’d protect us. He always said life is precious and must be protected, but when it came down to it he always prioritized the lives of others over us. He’d save a stranger before he’d save his own wife. How can I trust anything he says after that?”

“Does he lie in other ways?”

“He says he loves us all the time but he clearly doesn’t.”

“How do you know he doesn’t love you?”

“I just said it. He values everyone else’s lives over us, his own sons. Total strangers get the privilege of his protection but not his own family? Pfft. Kinda hard to believe he loves us after he left us alone to watch our mother burn alive before our very eyes.”

“This memory you have of your mother, does it keep you up at night?”

“Most nights.”

“And with your night job, when’s the last time you got a full night’s rest?”

“Uh...” Leo considers this for a long moment, “few months ago?”

“A few months?! How are you even semi-functional right now?”

“My boss brews this special tea for me that helps with the lack of sleep. It’s quite rejuvenating.”

“That’s not a substitute for sleep, Leonardo.”

“Yeah well half-assing ninja lessons isn’t a substitute for proper parenting and protection yet my father never quite understood that. I had to beg him to teach me and my brothers ninjutsu in our past life because I knew from mom’s death he couldn’t be counted on to protect us in the future. But when it came to actually teaching us how to defend ourselves, he was lax with our lessons. Turned it more into fun games and father-son bonding instead of actual martial arts studies. So when the Shredder made his final move against our family? I watched as my brothers were cut down in their youth, one by one until they were all dead at the hands of the Foot Clan, unable to properly fight back.”

Leo shakes his head bitterly.

“My father proved he was no protector nor a man of his word. I swore early on that I would be better than him, that my word would be my bond and that I would be this family’s protector. That I would save us when my father inevitably proved a failure yet again. But do I get thanks for keeping my family safe all these years? Heh. No. They just yell at me for keeping the fact mutants can mingle with humans and others like us a secret for years instead.”

Leo shrugs.

“Not that it matters. I don’t do this for thanks. I do this for the safety and security of my family.”

“And to keep the number of traumatic memories down to a minimum, right? Because that’s the real reason you’re so obsessed with acting as your family’s shield. You’re not angry at your father for failing. You’re scared, terrified of what may or may not happen. And this devotion isn’t an act of defense it’s an act of control. You lost your mother at an early age when there was nothing you could do, when the situation was out of your control and everything you’ve done since then has been to control the situation to control the dangers your family is in. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

Leo looks up at her with a bitter expression.

“So what if it is? Nothing else matters except my family’s safety. Not friendship, not community, not fun, or freedom. Not even my own soul is worth the cost of my family’s lives. Any price I have to pay to keep them safe is one I will always pay gladly and without hesitation.”

#

A knock at the door pulls Mikey from his thoughts.

“Go away, Raph. I told you, I don’t want to talk to the therapist. I’m totally sane and normal.”

“I’m not Raphael,” Lindsey says, poking her head into Mikey’s bedroom.

She slowly crosses the room and takes a seat at Mikey’s art desk, leaving the door open behind her before flicking on the lightswitch.

“Though I do find you’re wording interesting,” she says, fiddling with her glasses. “Has anyone ever made you feel that you were not sane or—well, I suppose the normal thing is a dumb question. Pretty sure every mutant has been mase to feel abnormal before.”

Mikey sits up in his bed, clutching a pillow to his plastron.

“Go away. I told you. I’m sane. I don’t need therapy.”

“So, the rest of your family is crazy for wanting to speak with me, then?”

“No! Of course not. They’re normal! They’re—they’re—”

“Not like you?”

Mikey holds the pillow closer, squeezing it like a lifeline as tears drip from the corners of his eyes.

“Michelangelo, why are you so afraid to talk to me?”

Mikey takes a deep breath before speaking.

“All my life, I was taught that I was a freak but that it was okay because my family were freaks too and we had each other. I thought Splinter’s warnings were unfounded because who could hate something as adorable as me, right? But then one night I snuck topside and got lost. I was attacked by a bunch of humans who thought I was some tiny monster. My brother Donnie found me and then he got hurt while we were running. Dad found us and saved us, bringing us home where Leo was already waiting. He’d gone out too but I guess he had an easier time finding his way back or something.

“After that day, though, I never doubted it whenever dad would say that we were freaks and that people would hate us for being freaks but that so long as we had each other we’d be okay. Then about a month ago, MOUSERs attacked our home and we were forced topside where we found out mutants were living alongside humans in peace, that we weren’t the only ones like us and we were accepted now. I thought my greatest wish had come true.”

Mikey pauses, closing his eyes to cry a little. Lindsey passes him a tissue from a box she brought in.

“What was your wish, Mikey?”

“To not be a freak anymore,” he answers. “But I was wrong. I’m still a freak. First day of school, I get messed with by some bullies and singled out by teachers in every single one of my classes for weird behavior until I got sent to the guidance counselor who said I should look into—into...”

“What?”

“An ADHD diagnosis,” Mikey whispers before burying his face into his pillow.

“And is that a bad thing?”

“Of course it’s a bad thing!” He screams. “It means I’m deficit, disordered, dysfunctional, and broken. It means I’m a freak even among freaks and I always will be. That no matter what I do, no matter what or who I am, I’ll always be the odd one out.

“It means my family will leave me behind now that I’m a freak and they’re not anymore,” Mikey adds in a whisper, barely audible past the pillow his face is smashed against.

“Michelangelo. That is not what having ADHD means. It means your brain is wired a bit differently from most people but that is not a bad thing. It means you notice more than most people, you have a lot of energy to spare and that when you get in the zone that nothing and no one can stop you from accomplishing whatever you set your mind to. You’re not a freak, Mikey. I’ve seen plenty of people who have this condition. Granted most of them are humans as the condition is underdiagnosed in mutants given the population limits but you are not the only one who has this. As far as neurodivergent conditions go, ADHD is actually one of the more common ones. That is, of course, assuming you do have it. Would you like me to evaluate you?”

“Are you going to tell everyone if it comes up that I do have it?”

“No. Doctor-patient confidentiality means I don’t have to share anything that you don’t want me to. Though, if the evaluation does come back with a diagnosis, it might be worth mentioning yourself so that your loved ones can help you manage the symptoms. So, are you ready?” she asks, clicking her pen and flipping a page on her clipboard.

He wipes away the tears and sets the pillow aside to give her his full attention.

“Let’s do this.”

#

Leo paces back and forth around the living room, making Mondo dizzy.

“Dude, please sit down. I’m getting motion sickness just watching you,” the gecko says.

“I’m worried about Mikey. His session is taking too long.”

“No such thing as too long when it comes to therapy, kid,” Hob says.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t usually take this long,” Ray adds.

“See?” Leo replies.

“Just relax, bro,” Raph says. “Mikey’ll be fine. Trust me. ‘Sides, he’s been stressed out a lot lately. He needs this.”

Before Leo can respond, Lindsey returns with Michelangelo himself. Lindsey places a comforting hand on the young turtle’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Mikey. You can do this. But know there’s no pressure if you don’t want to,” Lindsey says to him.

Mikey takes a deep breath to steel himself before screwing his eyes shut and blurting out, “I have ADHD!”

He peeks an eye open to gauge their reactions. Leo steps over to him and pulls him in for a tight hug.

“Is that it?” Raph asks. “Is—is that what’s been freaking you out for weeks?”

“Excuse me,” Donnie says, “what even is ADHD supposed to mean? That literally just sounds like a bunch of letters thrown together for no reason.”

“ADHD is an acronym,” Ray explains. “Stands for Attention Defecit Hyperactivity Disorder. It’s a form of neurodivergence, or in other words: it’s why Mikey acts and thinks differently from the rest of us.”

“For example,” Sally adds, “this explains why he’s so disorganized, unfocused, impulsive, and impatient.”

“Is this ADHD, a bad thing?” Splinter asks.

Mikey winces and steps back in disappointment. Leo grabs his shoulder and looks him square in the eyes as he says, “No, it’s not. It’s just what makes Mikey Mikey, and we all love him for exactly who he is,” Leo turns to Splinter with a pointed look, “Right,

father

?”

Splinter’s eyes widen as he starts to take note of Mikey’s apprehension with sharing this information and how they react to it.

“Of course. Of course!” he shuffles over to Mikey and wraps his arms around him. “Forgive me, my son. I did not mean it to come out like that. We love you very much and would never change a thing about you.”

“Group hug!” Mondo calls out as the rest of the joint family unit rushes over to hug Michelangelo who warms at the love he is shown.

#

After the hug has ended and everyone has settled onto the couch, Lindsey stands across from them at the front of the room.

“Okay, well, this has been a productive day. Now is the part where I go over the notes of these sessions that each of you have permitted me to share. The first thing to discuss is the running theme of chaos and feeling like the household has grown more wild and rambunctious since your two families have blended together. To remedy this, I would recommend setting aside a day—maybe weekly, biweekly or monthly, however often is necessary—to take a breather from the everyday hustle and bustle and relax as a family with low-stress activities.”

Mondo raises a hand.

“Not game night. That just leads to fighting,” Lindsey adds.

Mondo slumps down on the couch pouting.

“Think instead something along the lines of a movie night or a spa day. Maybe even a picnic trip to the park. I would also suggest a chore chart to keep everything spick and span and in general lessening the chaotic vibes by keeping everything more orderly. The next topic to discuss is Hob and Splinter. Now, I received some conflicting takes on your relationship. Some think you two fight a lot, Splinter suggests everything is fine now, while Hob has expressed the opposite opinion, feeling that he’s walking on eggshells 24/7.”

Splinter looks to Hob with an eyebrow raised question that Hob readily ignores.

“However, I did also hear from everyone that spending time alone outside of the house helped ease some of the tension a bit. Therefore, I recommend spending at least two days a week during school hours together to help clear the air a bit more. Don’t be afraid to tell the other how you’re really feeling about the relationship and overall situation.”

“Yay,” Hob mutters.

Lindsey clears her throat before continuing.

“Next we’ll be discussing trauma and how it has affected Raph and Leo.”

Splinter’s eyes widen and he turns to his eldest son.

“You told her about that night?” he asks in a hushed tone.

“What night, Sensei?” Donnie asks.

“No. I didn’t tell her about

that

night,” Leo answers, taking a breath. “I told her about the night mom died.”

“Leo mentioned that his mother’s death resulted in him feeling overwhelmingly terrified for the safety of him and his brothers as well as disappointed in your efforts to protect them. He went on to say that some part of him resents you, Splinter for not doing more to save his mother from the fire or protect him and his brothers from the Shredder.”

“I did not know you felt this way, my son. I did not even know you remembered that night.”

“It’s the earliest concrete memory I have.”

Splinter opens his mouth to ask another question but Leo cuts him off.

“Go on, Lindsey. You said something about Raph’s trauma?”

“Yes, the kidnapping attempts against him committed by the Foot Clan and their recent ceasing of such activities have left him anxious, expecting the Chunin’s lack of kidnapping attempts as the Foot’s efforts to lull him into a false sense of security, especially having had ample opportunity to capture him recently such as when he was taken prisoner by Big Mama at the Battle Nexus. This instance of kidnapping, however, left Raphael with the feeling of having deserved such a fate after he himself abducted Ms. Casey Jones. He now has worries that if the Foot do one day capture him he will have earned whatever fate they choose to dole out to him.”

“Raph, that’s crazy,” Hob says. “You didn’t deserve to be taken by the Yokai and you definitely wouldn’t deserve to be taken by the Foot.”

“Agreed. More to the point, your brother Leonardo seems to have been more the instigator for those events than you yourself ever were.”

“It doesn’t matter. I still went through with it and did something terrible. April says the Jones house is now boarded up and on guard constantly now. She can’t even ride her bike down that street without some of the remaining Hun loyalists threatening her.”

“Look, Raph, our father is right. It was my fault. Not yours. And I doubt they boarded up their home because of you either. I did this. I’m the one to blame, not you. This is my responsibility.”

“How could you think kidnapping Casey was a good idea anyhow?” Mikey asks.

“That’s not your concern, little brother.” Leo gives Mikey a pointed look, as if to say ‘stop asking stupid questions’.

“Well, I disagree!” Mikey stands up, shouting.

“Boys!” Splinter calls out. “This is not the time or place to argue over this. Let the past stay the past. There is no changing it now. We can only reflect upon our actions and strive to do better in the future. Right, Leonardo?”

“Yes, father.”

#

In Kitsune’s chambers Karai sits across from her on the floor, a tea set separating them. Kitsune pours them both a cup before setting the teapot aside.

“I understand your frustrations, my child, but this anger cannot be allowed to consume you.”

Kitsune brings her teacup to her lips.

“I just don’t get why you had to make that deal with Leonardo in the first place.”

“Technically, I made the deal with Ryu, not Leo—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Karai rolls her eyes. “Reincarnation, whataver.”

Kitsune glowers at her, the air dropping in temperature a few degrees.

“Do not interrupt your elders, granddaughter. It is unbecoming of an Oroku.”

Karai’s face pales and she proceeds to bow.

“Yes, grandmother, forgive me.”

“As to why I made the deal, trust that I had my reasons. I know long-term planning is not something mortals such as yourself excel at but know that I had a plan in mind when I forged the contract and if you are patient you may one day see the results of it. Hamato Leonardo holds within him an untapped power, a power I seek to control. In accordance with our deal, if Leonardo should ever break our deal, then I shall hold total control over him and thus his power. Only once he had broken our deal and I have taken control will I work my magic upon him to unleash this power. Any later and he will be strong enough to not only break the contract itself without loss of free will but also strong enough that he will have no fears of the Foot Clan or your grandfather, which are the only things keeping him in our thrall. Do you understand me, Karai?”

“I understand,” Karai sips her tea with a frown at how cold it got from Kitsune’s magic chill, “sort of.”

Karai grabs a candle from nearby and places it under her teacup to warm it.

“He has some mystery power that is, from what you’re telling me—and no offense, this is literally just how it’s sounding—stronger than your own magic. You want to control it so you cut a deal with him to keep him and this power close. But here’s what I don’t get. If you want his power, why not just steal it from him? Surely black magic is capable of that.”

“Demigods such as myself are not adept at that specific branch of magic. We are better at mastering forms of magic already at our disposal than we are at taking magic from another source. Further, that magic could only be used once Leonardo’s power has been tapped into. And as I said before, letting him access that power would spell great trouble for us all.”

“Then another question. Why do you act like Leonardo breaking his end of the deal is inevitable? Sure, if he was immortal, maybe I could see this happening some three hundred or so years down the line, but he’s got what? A few decades give or take? I know Leonardo. Hate him though I might, I have to commend his loyalty. He is steadfast in his commitment to us and forgive me, grandmother, I simply cannot see him breaking his oath anytime within our—or rather my—lifetime. What will you do if he dies before breaking the terms of your agreement?”

Kitsune smiles mischievously at her many-greats-granddaughter.

“Do not worry, child. Mortals are fallible. They always break sooner or later, even the most stubborn and dutiful. It is simply a waiting game. A game which I have always won.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Late at night, Senator Daniel Duncan is just finishing up his work at the office and packs up his things. He locks the door to his office behind him after shutting off the lights. He turns for the elevator just as Old Hob tackles him to the ground, a katana blade narrowly missing the senator’s head.

“What in the—” Senator Duncan says.

“Move! Move!” Hob yells, pulling him off the floor while Ray shoots at the Chunin with tranquilizer darts.

Not bullets. They learned the hard way once just how adept the Chunin was at redirecting their ammo at his own targets. That is one mistake they won’t be making again.

“What’s going on?” Senator Duncan asks as Hob pulls him toward the stairwell. “Who was that?”

“That was the Chunin and he’s here to kill you.”

“The Chunin?!”

“Yep.”

Ray’s scream cuts through the air, halting Hob’s movements a brief moment.

“Go, go, Pigeon Pete and Sally the Lion are on the roof, waiting for you. They’ll get you to safety.”

“Where are you going?”

“To stall the Chunin to buy you time to escape. I’m assuming you do want to escape, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Run! Go!” Hob yells.

The senator doesn’t need to be told twice as he darts up the stairwell. The Chunin bursts through the door and immediately has to block a strike from Hob.

“A machete?” the Chunin says. “Since when do you wield a blade?”

Chunin shoves Hob back and takes another swing at him. But Hob is fast and agile for his age and dodges the attack, using his free hand to fire off a couple tranq darts to throw off the Chunin.

“Since I got a rat teaching me ninja crap like you do.”

Hob alternates between hacking at the ninja with his machete and firing off tranquilizer darts to keep the Chunin on his toes. However, the Chunin is gaining ground, forcing Hob back up the stairwell just to keep some life-preserving distance between them.

“A machete isn’t a ninja weapon.”

“Eh, true, but traditional ninja swords like those katana you use are a bit too delicate for my liking. For example...”

Hob stows his tranq gun a moment to swing his machete at the Chunin’s katana with twice as much force as before, shattering the blade on impact. The steel of the sword clatters down the stairwell as it falls down into the dark. Hob’s proud of himself momentarily but the pride gets to his head long enough for the Chunin to grab him and throw him over the railing.

Hob manages to get a grip on another railing three flights below as the Chunin makes a mad dash for the roof where Sally and Pete should have hopefully gotten the senator to safety.

Unfortunately, the Mutanimals’ multi-purpose vehicle hasn’t gotten far enough in the time it took the Chunin to get to the roof, having only gone four blocks down the street. It has a good reach into the sky but the Chunin is resourceful and has a witch on his side. He jumps down into the shadows of the buildings and reemerges in the shadow of the mutli-purpose vehicle in its airship mode.

Falling from the sky, the Chunin flings a line out to catch on the underside of the vehicle and begins to climb. He crawls up to the door and pries it open with a dagger before pushing inside. Sally quickly sets the airship into autopilot and pulls the senator behind her as Pete uses a faulty forcefield prototype invention of Ray’s to block the Chunin from reaching him.

“Pete, take Senator Duncan and jump,” Sally says.

“Jump?” Senator Duncan yelps as Sally fires her gun at the Chunin.

Normally, this would be a bad idea, but with his swords nowhere to be found, the bullets being turned around is less of a concern. She’s still not sure how mere swords can redirect bullets when the force of them striking the weapon should be enough to shatter it, but Ray argues it makes sense if the bullets aren’t hitting the blade but being nudged aside as the flat of the blade taps at the side of the bullet mid-air and twists it around to divert its path.

She would argue that that sounds stupid and no one has reflexes that fast. But she doesn’t argue often with him. They just wind up going in circles.

“Pete can fly. You’ll be fine if you jump. Not so fine if you stay in here. Now go! AH!”

The Chunin stabs his dagger into Sally’s forearm and wrests the gun from her hand before bringing her arm down on his knee, snapping the bone. He throws her over his shoulder into the back of the vehicle before turning his sights on the senator just as Pete shoves the man out of the vehicle.

Pete dives after the screaming human in his freefall and grabs him with the talons of his feet in one swift motion before flying in a zigzag pattern away from the airship, the Chunin throwing shuriken at his wings. Panic starts to consume Pete as one such shuriken nearly clips his right wing.

Just as quickly, however, a calm radiates over him and acts as a guiding light in the dark.

“Yes, Mistress, I hear you,” Pete says in a trance.

“Who are you talking to?” Senator Duncan yells.

“Your salvation.”

Pete stops flying in an evasive pattern yet has no reason to fear harm, the wind blowing the shuriken off course. Up above, the Chunin is stuck between a rock and a hard place as disappearing into shadows doesn’t work so well if the only shadows available are either too far below the target or just on the underside of the vehicle which is putting a greater distance between them.

“What’s a’matter, Chunin? Can’t fly?” Sally taunts.

The Chunin slowly approaches Sally and kneels before her, pressing his dagger against her throat.

“What’s a’matter, kitten? Afraid of death?”

“You won’t kill me. I don’t know why, but you Foot ninjas have gone soft. You’re not even after Red anymore. It’s like you’ve taken us off your hit list and put us on some sort of secret protection list.”

“Ninja. The plural of ninja is ninja.”

“Yeah so I’ve heard,” Sally scoffs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? Are you guys under new management or something? A change in priorities?”

“Hardly. The master is the same as it has always been and my priorities remain unchanged. Merely circumstances call for different tact—”

The airship jostles as a loud clang rings behind the Chunin. He turns just as Slash grabs him by the throat and flings him out of the vehicle. The Chunin will survive if he manages to fall into a shadow, the darkness swooping him to the safety of his Mistress’s lair, but he won’t be any closer to accomplishing his mission.

Slash helps Sally to her feet and grabs the first-aid kit from the vehicle’s emergency compartment to tend to her arm.

“Nice throw. What did you do, jump onto the ship from the roof?”

No,

Slash signs.

The street.

Sally lets out a low whistle.

“Impressive. Shame you’re too heavy for skateboarding. Mondo would be jealous at how much air you’d be able to get.”

I prefer read.

#

The next morning, the Mutanimals all sit at the kitchen counter eating their breakfast as the TV plays the morning news.

“And in other news, Senator Duncan has been reported missing after—” the news reporter says.

“Whoa, whoa. Turn that up, will ya?” Hob says.

Mikey ups the volume on the TV as the reporter continues his segment.

“—The Mutanimals were caught on CCTV footage fighting against the infamous Chunin, however, whether the Chunin succeeded in killing our beloved senator or the Mutanimals have ferried him away to parts unknown is unclear. However, in the case of the latter, the question remains. Did the Mutanimals save Senator Duncan from certain death and have hidden him for his protection, or have they shown their true villainous colors and abducted him against his will?”

“Aren’t all abductions against one’s will?” Donnie asks.

“This is a load of crap!” Sally bangs her fist on the table, forgetting her injured forearm a moment until she hits it, wincing in pain.

“The senator’s not missing. Pete handed him over to witness protection,” Ray says. “Right Pete?”

“Right,” Pete affirms.

“And you’re sure they were witness protection and not just Foot ninja in disguise?” Hob asks.

“Of course not! The old lady seemed way too friendly to be some super secret villain or anything.”

“Old lady?” Sally questions as her pain wears down. “Since when do old ladies work in witness protection?”

“Are you sure she was witness protection?” Leo asks.

“Well, she definitely wasn’t Foot.”

“How can you be so certain?” Splinter asks.

“I don’t know. She just radiated a trusting and pleasant aura, like a sweet old grannie who spoils you with goodies and pinches your cheeks gently.”

“I fail to see how cheek pinching can be a good thing, but I’ll take the goodies for sure,” Mikey says in between bites of his cereal.

“All I know is, I was drawn to her after rescuing Senator Duncan and she told me how to find her in case we needed her help again. Then she vanished in a flash of bright light and a puff of feathers.”

“Light and feathers?” Hob asks.

“Pete, did you hit your head last night or something?” Ray asks.

Splinter chuckles softly beside them.

“I do believe I know this old woman, and she is indeed a friend. You said she told you how to find her?”

“Uh-huh, why?”

“I think it is long past time we get reacquainted with our old friend, Aka.”

#

Pete guides the joint family through Central Park until they reach a bridge. Underneath the bridge, sits a short old woman with pudgy wrinkled cheeks, meditating. A brunette streak runs down the middle of her long white hair, beginning at her widow’s peak.

“Hello, Yoshi.” She says without opening her eyes. “It has been a long time. How are you, dear? I trust you have been well following my brother’s machinations.”

“I have been well, Lady Aka. I thank you for your assistance with that matter.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Leo says bitterly.

“And you, Ryu,” she opens her eyes, “how have you been lately?”

“I go by Leonardo now.”

“Perhaps you do, but your soul is still that of that scared little boy Hamato Ryu. Yes, your fear still holds an iron grip on the hand that guides you. A shame.”

“Where’s the senator?” Sally asks.

“Right to the point, I see. A pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m afraid I cannot tell you the senator’s location. Not with the Foot watching even as we speak. However, I can assure you, Senator Duncan is safe and sound, More importantly, he is under my protection.”

“Not that that’s worth much, especially against the Foot,” Leo scoffs.

Aka frowns at him.

“I am disappointed you feel that way, Ryu. Your family may have perished despite my best efforts, but know that if you were not under my protection, all five of you would’ve had your fates twisted into something far darker by my sister’s hand. It is she I shielded you from, if not the Shredder. Oroku Saki may be a great ninja but his threat is minimal compared to that of my kin.”

“Disagree. You and your kin are mostly passive, inactive threats. It wasn’t your sister who burned down countless villages. It wasn’t her who set my home on fire. It wasn’t her who killed my entire family. It was the Shredder. He was the greatest threat Japan had ever seen. And where were you when he attacked us that final time?”

“I was battling my sister to keep her dark magicks at bay. You may not realize it but her power could’ve posed an even greater threat to you that day, had I not intervened.” Aka shakes her head. “If you truly cannot see the danger my kind poses, if you actually believe in your heart of hearts that Shredder is the greatest evil ever known, then you are even more foolish than I had originally thought.”

Splinter’s head swivels between his eldest son and his eldest friend like he’s watching a tennis match. He then tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“Forgive me, but why is there such a hostility between you two?”

“Yeah, with how highly Splints talked about ya, I’d have figured you were like the boys’ kindly auntie or something,” Hob says.

“If only.” Aka sighs. “Alas, I cannot say why there is a dissonance between us, but while I urge Ryu to confess his mistakes, I highly doubt that he will ever divulge such a truth. All I can say on the matter is this: at the end of his previous life, Ryu made a very ill-fated choice that may very well have cost him his immortal soul.”

#

Karai blocks an attack from the Shredder’s sword with her own. She twists under his arm in order to get behind him. She jabs her sword at his back, but he bats it away with a swift roundhouse kick, disarming her in a single move. He moves to attack, but she rolls away, regaining her fallen sword to block a downward strike.

“

I was thinking, grandfather, since Leonardo has failed at the assassination attempt against Senator Duncan, perhaps you would be willing to reassign the mission to me?

” Karai asks in Japanese.

She pushes his blade away and kicks him back another step before stabbing her sword forward. Saki catches the blade with his hand.

“

Leonardo has not failed until and unless the senator can pass his anti-discrimination law for mutant rights. Given that such a thing has not occurred, the mission still belongs to my Chunin,

” Shredder replies in the same language before bringing the elbow joint of his armor down on Karai’s sword, breaking it in half.

He then punches her square in the jaw, dropping her to the floor.

“Be quiet, both of you. The Chunin is channeling my presence,” Kitsune says from the other side of the room where she sits in meditation.

Saki helps their descendant off the ground.

“Forgot she was here,” Karai whispers.

“What is it, my beloved?” Shredder asks.

“Leonardo would appear to be in my sister’s presence.”

“Sister?” Karai asks in a hush.

“Which one?” Saki asks.

“Aka. Leonardo is allowing me to see and hear everything that he does even as we speak. Observe.”

Kitsune opens her eyes, projecting an illusion of everything Leonardo witnesses through his own eyes and ears.

“

I’ll ask again, what have you done with the senator?

” Leonardo asks.

“

I left him with my mark. He is now and forever more under my wing, a shield against my siblings and their chosen pawns,

” Aka says.

Karai smirks and nudges her many-greats-grandfather with her elbow.

“Now you’ll have to assign me the mission, what with Leo being banned by magic law.”

“

Even my siblings’ own descendants could not hope to act against the senator as they hold a fraction of my kind’s power within them,

” Aka adds.

“You were saying, granddaughter?”

Karai pouts.

“Okay so then who could carry it out, then?” Karai asks in a harsh whisper.

“No one. At least no one within the Foot. Despise it though I may, we will have to hire someone outside of the Foot Clan to eliminate the politician.”

“

How did you even know the senator was in danger to begin with?

” Leo asks.

“

Yeah, we got us a crime scanner that tells us when people are plotting bad stuff, but you don’t strike me as the technological type,

” Ray adds.

In the illusion, Aka smirks and says, “

Oh, I have had a pair of eyes within the Foot Clan’s headquarters for a long time. With my sister’s keen intellect and all, I am surrprised the realization never occurred to her.

”

Kitsune cuts the connection, leaping to her feet to stomp about, muttering angrily.

“What’s wrong?” Karai asks.

“I have been a FOOL!” Kitsune yells. “Koya has been feeding Aka our intel for ages.”

“Koya never struck me as the disloyal type,” Shredder says.

“She would not have to be. As a bird, Aka has full access to her senses. Everything Koya sees, hears, even smells or tastes are free for her to make use of. Koya has been a spy this whole time without even being aware of it!”

“Perhaps we can use that to our advantage,” Karai suggests. “Feed Koya false intel that will—”

“No,” Saki says. “I have dealt with Aka long enough to know she is clever enough to predict that tactic and easily gauge the difference between true intel and falsehoods no matter how we might switch it up.”

“Well, what do you suggest we do about this, then?”

“Kill her,” Kitsune says. “Koya may be loyal but she cannot be allowed to live.”

A knock at the door interrupts them. Alopex pokes her head in the doorway.

“Forgive me, Masters, but I have brought the ingredients for that spell Mistress Kitsune requested,” Alopex says meekly, holding up a grocery bag.

“Just leave them at the door and begone with you. Quickly,” Kitsune snaps.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Alopex drops off the ingredients and bows her head as she leaves.

#

After overhearing the masters discuss Koya’s execution, Alopex decides to rush straight to the general training room to warn her. There she finds the mutant falcon sparring with her best friend Bludgeon, a hammerhead shark. Bludgeon’s attacks have more force behind them while Koya’s are faster and more agile. They balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses well in a fight and from what little interaction Alopex has had with them, they balance each other’s temperments too, Bludgeon being the more level-headed of the two.

“Koya, I need to speak with you,” Alopex says.

“Speak then,” Koya says.

“Alone.”

“Can it wait? I’m busy.”

“It is a matter of life and death.”

Koya and Bludgeon cease sparring so Koya can turn to Alopex, letting the arctic fox take her aside.

“What is it? Whose life or death hangs in the balance?”

“Yours.”

“Mine?” Koya chuckles. “You must be joking.”

“I don’t joke about a death sentence. The masters have been speaking. They plan to execute you.”

“On what grounds? Hm? Why would they want to kill one of their most trusted soldiers?”

“Because you are a bird and as such, Mistress Kitsune’s sister can see and hear everything that you do. The masters know now that you are a liability.”

“I’ve been a bird the whole time. It never occurred to them beforehand?”

“I’d wager they didn’t think this sister was paying attention. Now they know for certain that she is.”

Koya rolls her eyes at her.

“Look, I’d appreciate the concern if there was indeed anything to be concerned about, but there’s not. So do me a favor and go bother someone else with these crazy conspiracy theories. Master Shredder isn’t about to throw away one of his best ninja just for the sake of some mystic paranoia.”

“But—” Alopex groans, turning to leave the room.

#

In Central Park, Aka shuts off the projection she has produced of what she sees through Koya’s eyes. Leo clenches a fist at his side, irritated at Alopex’s attempt to warn about the masters’ intentions. He can only hope that Kitsune is using their link to witness this betrayal.

“Alopex tried to warn her. Why?” Raphael asks. “I mean if their boss finds out about this—”

“She’ll be killed,” Leo says. “Alopex is a fool to betray her masters and has effectively signed her own death warrant.”

“Don’t be so quick to assume,” Aka says. “My sister is rather fond of foxes such as this Alopex. She may be inclined to keep her alive a while longer.”

Leo huffs in disagreement while Raph looks at the ground, contemplating what they just witnessed. Splinter nudges him with his elbow.

“What are you thinking of, my son?”

“Just that... Alopex risked her life to warn Koya. She could be killed for this.”

“This is true, as your brother has said.”

“Yeah, but like that’s not like the Foot ninja, right? Sticking your neck out for someone else. It’s kind of honorable. And that is not a word I would associate with the Foot.”

“Perhaps this Alopex is not quite so evil as we had initially assumed. Hm?”

“Maybe. She did say she was some sort of scout for a rescue mission when those stupid yokai captured me. Maybe she’s the one ninja in her clan who has a conscience.”

“Never assume that the Foot has no conscience. Assume they have their consciences bound and gagged.”

“That’s a weird metaphor.”

“Accurate though. After all, I was once Foot myself. Yet despite possessing a conscience, I often ignored it, pretended it was silent or simply not there. It took a great change in my life before I could fully listen to it again.”

“What changed?”

“I met your mother.” Splinter smiles down at his son, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

#

Koya continues her sparring session with Bludgeon after Alopex leaves only for the fox to march back into the room and grab Koya by the wing.

“Let go of me! What is wrong with you?” Koya shouts.

“I am trying to save your—” Alopex gasps, releasing Koya as if it burned to touch her.

“Alopex?” Bludgeon asks, trading wary glances with Koya.

Karai steps into the room.

“Alopex, my grandmother has summoned your presence in her chambers. Surely you feel it in your bones, no?”

“Yes, but I was talking to Koya about—”

“Oh we know. We. Know.”

Alopex gulps in fear and Koya’s eyes knit together in concern. Surely, Alopex can’t have been telling the truth. Right?

“Hurry along, little fox. You wouldn’t want to keep your Mistress waiting. After all this little act of treason receives a harsh enough punishment already. Trust me when I say you don’t wish to make it worse,” Karai says, gesturing for Alopex to leave once more.

Alopex slinks away, tail between her legs as she casts one final sorrowful glance back at Koya as if to say

I tried to warn you.

Koya steps away from Karai, hackles raised with suspicion.

“What treason?” Bludgeon asks.

“You are dismissed, Bludgeon,” Karai says, hands folded behind her back.

“I’m not leaving.”

“I gave you an order.”

“You aren’t the master. You aren’t even the Chunin. You don’t have the authority to give orders, as the little incident with Stockman at the zoo made us abundantly clear of. Now, I’ll ask again. What treason did Alopex commit?”

“Warning of the upcoming execution of a spy.”

Karai flings a series of kunai at Koya who dodges just as fast, the blades embedding themselves deep into the wall behind her.

“Alopex is right. You are trying to kill me.”

“Obviously. Should’ve ran when the fox gave you the chance.”

Karai unsheathes her sword and strikes out at Koya, the falcon leaping into the air to evade the weapon. Bludgeon grabs her before she can take another swing at Koya and twists her wrist until she releases her sword.

“Unhand me at once! I have orders from both masters.”

“Why are you doing this? What could Koya have ever done to deserve this?”

“She is the eyes and ears of Aka, demigoddess of all avian life, elder sister to Mistress Kitsune. Even without knowing, Koya has been broadcasting all of the Foot Clan’s secrets to the enemy. She cannot be allowed to remain in the Foot and as nobody leaves the clan, neither can she be allowed to live.”

Karai gets a grip in Bludgeon’s gills and bends forward to throw him over her shoulder. She leaps for her fallen sword but Koya is faster and snatches up the blade first.

“If you think I’m going down without a fight, you’re crazy.”

“Lucky for me, I anticipated this.” Karai snaps her fingers and a dozen or so more ninja flood the room. “You mutants always make for formidable opponents, but there is strength in numbers.”

“Also strength in sharks,” Bludgeon says, grabbing Karai by the throat and throwing her into the wall across the room.

Karai tries to get up but succumbs to the blow and collapses, alive but stunned. The rest of the ninja surround Koya and Bludgeon, weapons drawn.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. They only wanted me,” Koya says.

As the first wave of ninja attack, Koya blocks their swords while Bludgeon bats them away with his fists.

“We’re partners, a team. If the Foot don’t want you, then they don’t want me neither. I sure as hell don’t got a reason to stick around without you.”

Koya performs a leaping spin kick to take out two more ninja coming up on her rear.

“Thanks.”

“Thank me by fighting.”

#

In Central Park, Mikey raises a tentative hand. Aka gestures to him with a warm smile.

“You may speak. This is not a schoolhouse. You need not raise your hand.”

“Yeah, um,” Mikey rubs the back of his neck as a worry creeps into his mind, “so how come the Foot just found out that Koya was your eyes and ears when they didn’t seem to know that beforehand? The timing’s just a little... off I guess?”

“You are very perceptive, Michelangelo.” She steps closer to him, pressing a hand against his heart. “I suspect though, you already have the answer to your question. Am I right?”

Mikey lets out a long sigh.

“I was afraid you would say that.”

Leo spares a curious glance at his brother, wondering what exactly it is he suspects and how close it is to the truth. Aka looks at him then, in her eyes he is certain she knows the reason the Foot were alerted to Koya’s treachery. Yet he has to wonder why then she would give up her spy so easily. She had to have known he would out her as Aka’s unknowing informant and that doing so would seal her fate. Aka, Kitsune, Rat King, and all the other demigods in the Dragon’s Pantheon have always seen the world as a contest, a game to be won. Yet, he has never once thought of Aka as a player in this game.

Until now.

For her to surrender Koya’s place in the Foot so quickly, she must be playing the game. But what her ultimate goal is, he has no idea. It seems premature to give up such a formidable asset so soon. And it’s not like Pete is much of a consolation prize compared to a warrior of Koya’s stature. What is the old bird up to?

“Does it really matter why the Foot knows now?” Sally asks. “Either way, Koya is now on the outs from the Foot and Bludgeon’s so loyal to her, he’s bound to follow her out. They’re both key members of the organization, and now they have reason to switch sides. If we find them before the Foot can kill them, we might have just won ourselves some new allies.”

“Even if the Foot are against them now it does not necessarily mean their allegiances have turned in our favor,” Splinter says. “Furthermore, for the Clan to have learned this information so quickly presents trouble. Michelangelo is right to question their methods in this regard.”

“Father is right—for once,” Leo adds. “Koya and Bludgeon are unlikely to actively work against the Foot. They’re among the Clan’s most loyal members.”

“Yeah, but how loyal can they be after the whole clan tries to kill them?” Mondo asks.

“Loyal enough not to betray them. Loyal enough to try and do whatever it takes to win back their favor. Frankly, I think they’re more likely to try and kill Aka so she can’t use Koya against them than to side with the Mutanimals.”

“Aka is immortal and more powerful than even the Foot’s own sorceress. They would be foolish to attack,” Splinter says.

“I think you are both wrong about what Koya and Bludgeon will do moving forward,” Aka says.

“You mean like how you were wrong that you could protect my family from the Foot Clan?” Leo asks.

“I never said I would protect you from the Foot. I said I would protect you from any dark forces the Foot may unleash upon you. The Shredder and his ninja may have been able to slay you all, but your deaths would have been swifter and more unfortunate had I not kept my sister at bay.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, what then? Koya and Bludgeon aren’t going to win over the Foot anytime soon and if they’re not likely to work with us against the Foot, what else will they do?” Donatello asks.

“Try to survive a little while longer, hiding like roaches in every nook and cranny they can find in this city until the Foot Clan snuff out their terribly short lives in a swift and brutal manner,” Leo says.

“Okay, that is bleak even for you,” Donnie says.

Leo shrugs.

“It’s just how the Foot operate. They killed us much the same way. Why should Koya and Bludgeon expect any other outcome for themselves?”

“Because this is not feudal Japan,” Aka says.

“You’re right,” Hob says. “These days people are more cutthroat and vicious, and the weapons are deadlier.”

“And less elegant,” Leo adds. “The Foot don’t like using guns the same way you do, Hob.”

“Yeah and how do you know what the Foot like?”

“Because I have studied the ways of the Foot for years. I know what they are capable of, unlike you.”

“You studied the ways of the Shredder,” Splinter says.

For a brief moment, Leo’s heart stutters in his shell. How could his father know who trained him?

“But the Shredder is no more,” Splinter goes on to say. “He has been dead for centuries. The only one from the old days they still have within their ranks is Kitsune and she is a more passive threat than an active one.”

“Do

not

take my sister’s inaction for passivity,” Aka snaps, slamming her staff against the concrete beneath their feet. “It is merely the calm before the raging storm. As immortals, my siblings and I know the art of patience and playing the long game. Kitsune’s plans are already in motion. Mark my words, there will yet be hell to pay when her efforts finally come to fruition. Like it or not, my sister is currently playing with the winning hand. It will only be through luck and ingenuity that we might hope to turn the tide. And we must, for if we fail I fear it will be the end of everything.”

#

Later that night, Leonardo returns to Foot headquarters. He kneels before his master’s throne, head bowed in reverence.

“Master, has the spy been dealt with?”

“Sadly, no. She and Bludgeon both escaped Foot justice. But they will be dealt with swiftly, mark my words. I must thank you, Leonardo. Without you we would not have been made aware of this breach in our security.”

“Do not thank me yet, Master Shredder. Aka is wise, far too much so to throw away such an asset so quickly. She’s up to something, I’m certain. I don’t know what she hopes to gain from ousting Koya and Bludgeon but we need to be on our guard. There’s no telling what is yet to come.”

“Agreed. Kitsune has said as much after the pair fled from us. However, she still stands by the decision to kill them both for this unintended treachery. Whatever her sister’s plans, we will be ready when they make themselves known.”

“Where is Mistress Kitsune, anyhow?”

A scream cuts through the air, echoing about the halls.

“She is with Alopex now,” Shredder says. “Our arctic friend seems to have forgotten who she has pledged her loyalty to. Kitsune intends to remind her.”

“Alopex has Kitsune’s favor still, though. If the warning had come from anyone else, their life would be forfeit. Yet, Alopex still continues to breathe. I have to wonder if Kitsune is letting her favoritism get the better of her.”

“Yes, I worry about that as well. Frankly, I would not have inducted her into the clan nor made her a mutant to begin with had Kitsune not insisted upon it. We are lucky there are not more foxes within our ranks or there would be no true punishment to be wrought.”

“Not so lucky to lose Koya though. It’s a shame she is under Aka’s dominion. She was a formidable warrior.”

“As was Bludgeon. But we must not mourn our loss, but rather celebrate this victory. Now the Foot’s secrets will be forever more secured. And speaking of securing our secrets, one of our ninja has been caught whilst robbing a museum. The ninja has not squealed yet, but we cannot be certain they will not do so soon.”

“I will bring them home, Master Shredder.” Leo bows to Saki. “Kitsune will be able to sus out whether or not they have betrayed the Clan’s secrets.”

#

Within the realm of the mind, Alopex’s every sense is assaulted by her mistress’s dark magic. Her nostrils fill with the scent of burning pine. Her skin pricks against the chill of the wind before giving way to scorching heat. Her mouth fills with ash. Her ears catch on the screams of agony as forest creatures flee in terror. Her eyes lock onto the sight before her, unable to break away, unable to run.

“You owe us,” Kitsune’s voice says in the dark.

A vision of her past as a young kit, frolicking with her siblings in the snow as their mother teaches them to hunt.

“We saved you.”

Another vision, this time drowned out in swathes of bloodred. Her family slaughtered, her mother in the jaws of a great white polar bear. The bear meets her gaze. It still yearns for fresh blood.

“

He

saved you.”

The Shredder steps through the blazing inferno, shielded by his wife’s magic. He throws a polar bear over his shoulders into the flames, its body bloodied and limp. Her old foe finally vanquished, but not by her paw. The Shredder meets her gaze. He still yearns for fresh blood.

The Foot had come hoping to find hardy animals who could prove useful allies post-mutation. Most of the mutants they left with had reached maturity. All except for Alopex. She alone was taken in her youth. At his wife’s behest, Oroku Saki decided to take on the young fox and train her up, hoping that Kitsune’s affinity for foxes might make her stronger depsite her youth.

He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and dragged her from the burning forest, the screams of her friends still ringing in her ears. The other foxes like her, the birds whose music brightened her every morning, the rabbit she would often chase for a meal only for it to dash away into its burrow time and time again—almost more a game than a hunt. She left them behind in the flames.

No.

She was taken from them, kicking and screaming as her whole world burned before her eyes. Had she really forgotten this life? Had she forgotten what was stolen from her? The Shredder declared himself her savior yet in the end he had taken as much from her as the bear had.

“He took you from nothing,” Kitsune says, “and gave you

everything.

”

That’s not true. He stole everything and gave her a hollow life filled with nothing but death and servitude.

“You were made smarter, stronger, better in every way. You owe him your life.”

Yes. I owe him.

Alopex bolts up, coming out of the vision breathless, gasping for air as if she can’t get enough of it.

“Breathe, little fox. Just breathe.” Kistune pours her a cup of tea and places it in her trembling hands.

Alopex brings the cup to her lips and gulps it down in one go. Finally, her lungs settle and her heart stops racing.

“Do you swear once more to serve me and the Foot forever and all time, to never betray our trust and to obey our every word as if they were gospel from the heavens themselves?”

“I do, Mistress Kitsune. Forgive my treason, please.” Alopex bows deeply.

“You are forgiven. Now, go. You have been locked under my magicks for three days now. You need to eat.”

At that moment, her empty stomach makes itself known with a deep grumbling. Alopex rests a hand over her belly.

“Yes, Mistress.”

As she leaves her Mistress’s chambers through a swirling dark portal—the only way in which one can enter or leave the windowless and doorless room—Alopex vows to repay her debt to Saki. Yes, she owes him her life. And for this cruel and unnatural life, he will pay. They will all pay. She just has to bide her time until she can make her escape. Luckily, foxes know how to be patient.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After a long day of menial tasks at school, the last thing Leo needs is to have the ride home interrupted before he can take a well-deserved nap before a late night mission for the Foot. So naturally, that’s exactly what happens.

“What was that?” Mikey asks as the hovertank comes to a grinding halt mid-air.

“Did we hit a skyscraper or something?” Donnie asks.

“Or something,” Hob mutters, cocking his pistol. “Everyone stay in your seats. I’ll handle this.”

Hob gets out of his seat in the front and opens the side doors. Before he can check out the problem, Leo darts out and around the sides of the vehicle until he’s swinging from the undercarriage in sword’s reach of the skintight suit wearing superhero in silver and blue spandex and matching mask—The Silver Sentry, New York City’s favorite superhero and leader of the Justice Force.

“Kid!” Hob calls out as Pete brushes past him to flap around Silver Sentry.

“Hi there,” Pete says cheerfully. “So, listen, we were just taking our kids back home, so if you could let us go so we can do that, that would be—LEO!”

Leo swings his sword at the Sentry’s head, grazing his cheek causing a thin line of blood to sprout on his face. Silver Sentry flinches and releases his hold on the hovertank long enough to check the injury. He wipes away the blood, his sking healing instantly before he flies back in to pry Leo off the vehicle by his ankle. Silver Sentry uses his superspeed to catch Leo’s arm on the next swing of his blade and quickly disarms him, the sword clattering onto a rooftop far below.

“Keep this up and I’ll drop you,” Sentry says as Leo kicks at his torso futilely—his superhuman strength not even registering the blows.

“Yeah, sure you will,” Leo scoffs.

He throws a set of shuriken at Silver Sentry. One starts to cut into his forehead but Sentry is quick and dodges just in the nick of time, dropping Leo in the process. Pete swoops in to catch him and fly him back over to the hovertank where Hob starts firing at Sentry who has managed to dodge each of the shuriken. The bullets he doesn’t even flinch at as they collide with his near-indestructible skin.

It used to be just indestructible, but that was before Leo’s weapons started to cut into his flesh. An oddity the hero would have to look into later.

“What’s this joker want this time?” Hob growls.

“Don’t know,” Pete says.

“Don’t care neither,” Sally adds. “Nobody grabs my baby mid-air and gets away with it. Ray, arm the missiles!”

“First, it’s not your baby. It’s mine. I designed her. Second, I removed the missile launchers after the Mutant Revolution ended and we signed that peace treaty with the President of the United States. It was actually part of the agreement,” Ray says.

Sally groans just before the hovertank lurches and the control console starts flashing warning signs.

“What does that mean?” Donnie asks nervously.

“That son of a bitch just ripped out the propulsion system!” Sally yells.

“My baby!” Ray cries.

“Ray, what do we do now?” Sally asks.

Hob answers with a heavy sigh before the manta ray can respond.

“Nothing we can do. Either we go with Silver Sentry or we plummet outta the sky to our deaths.”

“Silver Sentry?!” Mikey screams with delight, unbuckling his seatbelt to peer out the window. “I’ve seen this guy on TV! He’s like the ultimate superhero!”

“Ain’t no kinda hero, kid. Trust me on that,” Hob says.

“Silver Sentry,” Splinter muses. “He is a member of the Justice Force, correct? What business does he have with us?”

“Easy,” Raph says, “he and his Justice Force pals are anti-mutant bigots who want us all dead. They were our biggest rivals during the Mutant Revolution and they weren’t exactly thrilled when the politicians decided that the only way to achieve peace between our species was acceptance and not genocide.”

“No way! Sentry’s the goodest guy ever!” Mikey declares. “He’d never be a hateful jerk.”

Hob sighs, shaking his head.

“You’ll learn eventually, kid. Silver Sentry and the rest, they ain’t as good and heroic as they make themselves out to be. Just power-mad blowhards who want to throw their weight around while preening for the cameras.”

Slash raps his knuckles against the wall of the hovertank, getting Hob’s attention. He signs to him,

What think they want?

“Don’t know,” Hob says, gazing out the front window as they approach Justice Force headquarters, “but looks like we’re about to find out.”

#

Silver Sentry sets their hovertank down on the landing pad of Justice Force Headquarters. The group all pile out with Leo pulling the pin on a grenade and chucking it at the hero. Sentry catches it in his bare hands, closing them tight around the grenade as it goes off, only a puff of smoke and light escaping from betwixt his fingers.

“Where the fuck did you get a grenade?” Hob asks.

“Under-seat storage units,” Leo says.

“The peace treaty said we had to disarm the missiles. Never said anything about not being allowed to stock the other weapons,” Ray says.

“Please, we need not fight,” Silver Sentry says.

“Yeah, sure we don’t,” Hob says, arms folded over his chest, tail lashing with displeasure. “Not like you kidnapped us or anything. Oh wait.”

“Actually,” a newcomer steps off the elevator onto the roof, a dark figure in an all-black bodysuit and cape—Nobody, “we rescued you, not kidnapped. So, you should be a little more grateful.”

“What’s this ‘we’ nonsense?” Sentry scoffs. “I’m the one that picked them up.”

“While representing the Justice Force, which makes your actions a matter of ‘we’ not ‘I’,” Nobody says, coming to stand by Sentry’s side.

“I’ll remember that next time you hog the glory for some natural disaster save or another.”

Following Nobody out comes the rest of the Justice Force. Mikey screams with delight at the sight of his heroes.

“It’s them! The Justice Force. Nobody the dark, brooding vigilante. Stainless Steel Steve, the war veteran with an indestructible metal plate on his forehead. Zippy Lad, fastest man alive with an experimental suit that grants him the power of hyperspeed. Battling Bernice, the MMA fighter turned street-level vigilante turned world-class superhero. And last but certainly not least: Doctor Dome, the brains of the group who invented a cybernetic headset to give him technopathic powers. I. Love. You. Guys!” Mikey squeals, hopping up and down.

“I have officially lost all respect for you, dude.” Mondo sighs, shaking his head.

“Great, the freak is a fanboy,” Nobody mutters.

Instantly, Mikey’s face falls into a frown.

“Be nice,” Silver Sentry says, glaring at his compatriot. “We need them, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Oh, and what exactly do the Justice Jerks need us lowly mutants for?” Sally asks.

“Let’s continue this conversation inside, shall we?” Sentry suggests. “You’re all too vulnerable out here.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re gonna toss us off the roof?” Ray asks.

“Hardly,” Sentry waves for them to follow.

Hob leans toward Pete and whispers in his ear.

“Psst, how likely is it that you can fly us all down from here for a quick escape?”

“With how heavy Slash is? Unlikely. And quick? Ha. Forget about it. Let’s just follow them and hope for the best.” Pete glances over his shoulder at Leo. “Maybe let Leo go in first. He did somehow manage to make the Silver Sentry bleed.”

“He did?!” Hob yelps, looking back and forth quickly between Leo and Pete in utter shock.

“It only lasted a moment before Sentry healed, but yeah. Both with his swords and his shuriken.”

“Remind me to ask Splints where he got the metal to make those ninja weapons,” Hob says as they all climb into the JF’s massive elevator.

They take the elevator down into the lounge area of the building, the windows all strangely shuttered, blocking out all natural light. Though, the vaulted ceiling’s crystal chandelier provides more than enough lighting for the wide-open room which features a massive rectangular conversation pit with a squared blue sofa big enough to seat forty, a gas fireplace, and a kitchen on the opposite end with state-of-the-art appliances including a fridge for each member of the Justice Force, five stovetops, and six ovens.

“You guys host a lot of parties here?” Hob asks, appraising the space.

“Occasionally,” Sentry says. “Though the space goes unused most of the time, and the kitchen is largely untouched given the group typically orders catering for our events. Though, I’ve tried to convince the others it’s worth doing the cooking ourselves.”

“Why slave over a hot stove when you can pay someone else to do it instead?” Nobody says.

Silver Sentry grumbles but holds his tongue.

“So you guys just have all this to, what? Flaunt your wealth?” Ray asks.

“No,” the Justice Force says in almost perfect unison.

“Yes,” Sentry says, the odd man out of the group, earning a series of glares from the others.

“Heh, at least the Silver blowhard is honest about his ego,” Hob says.

“Don’t have an ego, personally, but I do try to keep the team accountable.”

“Just so long as you don’t rock the boat, right?” Sally asks. “I mean we all know that for all your bluster about doing the right thing you certainly haven’t gone on record admitting to your team’s wrongdoings during the Revolution.”

“You mean the

Mutant

Revolution?” Nobody asks. “Gee, maybe that’s ‘cuz we weren’t the bad guys during that war you freaks—”

“Enough!” Silver Sentry demands, stepping between the two teams. “Look, we brought you here for a reason. We have intel that the mutants known as Koya and Bludgeon are targeting some of you, namely the ones referred to as the Hamato family.”

Leo stands up straighter, like a soldier at attention.

“And what exactly makes you think that?” Donnie asks.

“Yeah,” Raph says, “frankly I think those two have got bigger problems to deal with right now. You know, like not getting killed by a clan of ninja.”

“As a civilian I often visit seedy bars, the dingy kind that lowlifes like to frequent,” Nobody says. “Koya and Bludgeon were at one the other day discussing their plans to get back at the Foot for turning on them.”

“Somehow, they decided the best way to seek their revenge was to go after you five. According to Nobody, they were planning to attack you after school today at your own home.”

“Impossible,” Hob says.

“Is it though?” Splinter questions. “The pair were seen near our home not too long ago.”

“They were there for Stockman, not us. Doubt they even know we were there.”

“Depends,” Stainless Steel Steve says with a smug grin, “does ‘there’ refer to the Bronx Zoo?”

The Mutanimals shift uneasily.

“Just as we thought,” Steve says.

“Let’s not antagonize our guests,” Sentry suggests.

“You mean bait,” Zippy Lad says.

“Enough. Please,” Silver Sentry demands.

“Bait, huh?” Leo says. “So you brought us here to lure them out and arrest them?”

“Not exactly,” Sentry says. “Our hope is to offer them witness protection in exchange for any information they can offer on the Foot Clan and their operations. The clan has been proving to be a growing threat to the safety of not just New York but the world at large. Reports of ninja bearing the Foot Clan’s emblem have been coming in from Kyoto to Chicago to Rio to Cairo—”

“You like listing places that end in O don’t you?” Nobody mutters.

“I’m just listing them in the order the reports came in,” Sentry says in a deadpan.

“I had not realized the Foot had grown so powerful or so vast,” Splinter says. “You are right to be concerned.”

“Whose side are you on?!” Raph yells indignantly.

“No one’s, my son. I simply agree that the Foot have become a far greater threat than previously realized. A sentiment I am sure you would agree with as well, all things considered.”

“You believe this, Pop?” Raph asks Hob, folding his arms across his plastron.

“Eh, much as I hate to say it, these Justice Jerks got a point. The Foot are dangerous. No doubt about it. And with the whole clan out to do ‘em in Koya and Bludgeon might be liable to squeal if they think they’ll be protected.”

Leo lets out a single harsh laugh.

“Something funny there, kid?” Battling Bernice asks.

“If you really think Koya and Bludgeon will tell you anything, you’re crazy. As you say, the Foot Clan are formidable. Having come from within their ranks, the pair would know better than you just how futile any offer of protection would be. If they were to talk they’d only be in more danger than they already are. Nothing you can do to save them or yourselves,” he looks Silver Sentry up and down, “no matter how strong you think you are.”

“And what makes you think that you’re an expert on these Foot ninja?” Sentry asks, a single brow lifting at the edges of his mask.

“I know a lot about the Foot Clan. I’ve fought Koya and Bludgeon a few times now. I know how they think. How they operate. You can’t fight the Foot. Doing so will only lead to your inevitable demise in fire and ruin. Take it from me. My whole family is reincarnated from way back when the Foot Clan was still small and localized to Japan. I watched my brothers, my father, my mother all die at the clan’s hands and that was back when they were relatively weak. Now?

“Now they are a global empire with powers and resources you couldn’t possibly fathom nor ever hope to defeat. You’re wasting your time and ours by trying to get Koya and Bludgeon on your side. If the pair is targeting my family then the only way to protect my family is to bring about Koya and Bludgeon’s swift and brutal demise.”

Sentry gives a knowing smirk. Zippy Lad lets out a low whistle.

“You got all that from fighting some bird and shark a couple of times?” Zippy Lad asks.

“I got all that from two lifetimes of trying to protect my family from the Foot Clan’s destructive nature. I know them better than almost anyone.”

“I’m sure. But you’ll have to forgive me and my teammates if we don’t still try our hand with Plan A first,” Sentry says before turning to the rest of his team. “I’ll stay here with the Hamato family and you guys head to the Mutanimals’ base of operations to collect Koya and Bludgeon.”

“Hold the

fuck

up!” Hob yells. “You ain’t going anywhere near our home!”

“What he said!” Sally growls, claws extended and teeth bared.

Behind her Ray pulls out a pistol and Slash cracks his massive knuckles. Silver Sentry steps between the two groups before Nobody and the others can meet the response with equal hostility and raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“Hold it! Hold it. You didn’t let me finish. My team will go to your base of operations

with

your supervision. You will call the shots and pair off in teams of two to scope out the place. We suspect Koya and Bludgeon have already infiltrated the place and given its rumored span, you’ll need to split up to find them. I recommend Sally with Zippy, Ray with Bernice, Mondo and Pete with Doc, Slash with Steve, and Hob with Nobody. Sound good?”

“NO!” everybody shouts in unison.

“Why in the name of fuck should we work with these—these freaks?!” Nobody yells.

“And why do I get two of them?” Dr. Dome asks.

“Because Mondo is a child and Pete is a bit frailer than the rest making the two of them combined an equal match for you just as the others are one-on-one counters should any in-fighting occur during the mission. Meanwhile our targets are skilled at breaking and entering due to their ninja background, you and the rest of our team are not. Furthermore, while I have no doubt that Dr. Dome is a highly qualified technician in his own right (and you too to a lesser extent), the Mutant Revolution alone proved that Ray Mann is by and large both your superior when it comes to technology, especially defensive technology. If you go in there alone their defenses will kill you before you can even lay eyes on the targets.

“And lastly, unlike some people on this team I like to think of everyone in this room as allies and as such would seek to treat our allies with all the respect we would afford any other veteran of war,” at Stainless Steel Steve’s opening mouth, Sentry is quick to add, “which is exactly what the Mutanimals are. Veterans of a war between man and mutantkind. You may not like it, but for once we are all on the same side here and I only ask that you all remember that.”

Silver Sentry’s eyes scan his compatriots as if he were bearing down on them with his laser vision. His gaze brutal nonetheless. After a long tense moment of the Justice Force shifting under their most powerful member’s gaze—perhaps remembering that he is stronger than all of them combined—it is Battling Bernice who breaks the silence.

“You sure you can handle the freaks alone?” she asks.

Sentry’s lip quirks with displeasure.

“Koya and Bludgeon aren’t freaks. They’re criminals.”

“Not why I called them that, also not who I was referring to.”

“I know. I was giving you an out to walk back those nasty little words of yours after I just got through chastising you all for being unbelievably rude to our guests.”

“Last I checked Sentry, you weren’t in charge of this team. I am,” Nobody says, getting right up in Sentry’s face, though the dark-cloaked vigilante is half a foot shorter than the team’s paragon of virtue and true heroism.

“Do you disagree that you need the Mutanimals to reach the targets? Do you disagree that treating them with respect is necessary in order to get them to agree to allow you in their home? Do you disagree that creating more tension with the Mutanimals is only a detriment to the mission? The mission, you came up with by the way.” Sentry jabs Nobody with one strong finger to emphasize his point while scowling down at his faceless frenemy.

“Whatever. Just guard them in case we’re wrong about those mutant ninjas lying in wait at the zoo,” Nobody huffs.

“Ninja,” Hob says with a smirk. “The plural of ninja is ninja.”

Donnie snickers, recalling how he had corrected Hob on the very same mistake once.

Nobody says nothing, simply gesturing for the Justice Force and Mutanimals to follow him out. Raphael moves to follow as well, but Hob holds him back.

“Sorry, Red, but you’re a target as much as the rest of ‘em. You gotta stay here.” Hob leans in conspiratorially. “’Sides, these guys don’t know the JF like we do. I need you to watch their backs around ole Silver here, capiche?”

“Okay, I know you’re only saying that to convince me to stay here where it’s safe and not because you actually want me to protect anyone, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Raph says. “I’ll stay here.”

“I mean it, though. You’re the only one whose strength can even hope to match the Sentry’s. That said, make sure your brothers have some kind of blades on them at all times. Pete said Leo was able to cut the guy earlier.”

Raphael’s eyes go wide and dart back to his older brother whose posture and grim expression fail to hide how much he is thoroughly displeased by this situation.

“Wait, really?”

“That’s what Pete said. Keep safe. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Hob brushes past Silver Sentry on his way to the elevator, sending him a sideways glance.

“Nobody’s in charge?” he asks the so-called hero.

“Just because I’m popular with the public doesn’t mean I’m popular within the team. I’m the face. Nobody’s the iron fist ruling over the rest of us. Me being in charge is as common a misconception as me being an alien.”

“Oh yeah, then what is your origin?” Hob asks, eyebrow raised.

“Tell you some other time. You should get going. Nobody’s the impatient sort.”

“Not exactly the quality you’d want in a leader,” Hob says as he enters the elevator with the others.

And though Sentry’s words are faint, Hob’s cat ears pick up on every syllable.

“I know,” Sentry mutters as the elevator doors slide shut between them.

Silver Sentry claps his hands together, spinning to face the Hamato family with a warm smile.

“So,” he says, “who would like a tour?”

#

The Mutanimals and Justice Force arrive at the zoo-turned-Mutanimal homebase and the Mutanimals reluctantly guide into their home, making sure Slash and Ray stand between the door and the so-called heroes as Hob enters the passcode.

“Is this necessary?” Dr. Dome asks.

“Yes,” the mutants ring out in unison.

The group enters the Mutanimals home to find it just as they left it.

“Cozy,” Nobody remarks. “I expected something more akin to a pigsty.”

“Yeah, well none of us are pigs,” Hob says.

“Hey, something just occurred to me,” Mondo says.

“Tell the infant freak to let the grown ups handle this and stay out of the way,” Nobody says to Hob, pointedly ignoring Mondo.

Hob grabs Nobody roughly by the arm as the Justice Force leader tries to brush past him.

“First, don’t ever insult my kid again. And two,” Hob turns to Mondo, “what’s up?”

“Well, if Koya and Bludgeon just want to kill Raph and the others how do we know they didn’t just plant a bunch of bombs and go?”

“He makes a good point,” Sally says, shoulders tensing as her ears prick up, alert and ready for danger.

“They didn’t,” Nobody says.

“Yeah, and how do you know that?” Hob asks.

“Because when I overheard them talking about their plan they mentioned wanting to slit the throat of whichever one is called ‘Leonardo’. I don’t know if your feeble animal mind can comprehend this but that means they want an up close and personal kill. Bombs are too indirect.”

Hob’s whiskers twitch in consideration.

“Leo? That’s what they said? They wanted to kill

Leo

personally? You sure?”

“Positive. Not sure why, though. Didn’t catch that part since they started speaking in tongues.”

“Tongues?” Sally asks with a raised brow.

“Some language that’s not English. Maybe a mutant tongue possibly something from Asia. Sure sounded like one of those subbed animes my brother watched when we were growing up. The nerd.”

“Well they are ninja so them speaking Japanese wouldn’t be too surprising,” Ray says.

Slash grunts and starts signing to the room.

“Tell your pet monster to use its words and not—” Bernice starts to say.

“Don’t call Slash a monster, first of all,” Hob growls. “And secondly, he can’t speak. His vocal cords don’t work.”

“Geeze, as if them being xenophobic wasn’t bad enough, they had to go and be ableist too,” Mondo mutters.

“Not all that surprising given their history,” Pete adds under his breath.

Mondo slaps Pete a low-five.

“Slash says that if they wanted Leo specifically that we should check Leo’s room first,” Hob says.

“Not a guarantee they’ll be there. We should split up and search the area,” Nobody argues.

“Hate to say this but the jerk’s got a point. If they know about our habits as well as the layout and entry points of our home then it’s possible they’d be in one of the rooms Leo usually frequents, like the training hall or the armory. We should split up to check them all,” Sally says.

“Then we split up by Sentry’s suggestion,” Hob says.

“You want to listen to one of our guys?” Nobody snorts.

“Not really, but since you seem as fond of him as we are of you, figure there’s no harm in taking his advice. ‘Specially if it irks ya so much.”

Nobody gestures to his team and they pair off with the Mutanimals as Silver Sentry had directed. As Hob and Nobody head down the hall to Leo’s room, Hob keeps his gun drawn and his eyes flitting between the space ahead and the vigilante at his side.

“Can you please stop staring?” Nobody mutters. “It’s distracting.”

“Just don’t want you getting up to no good inside o’ my home. Wouldn’t put it past ya to plant evidence against us.”

Nobody’s smirk can be seen through the dark fabric of his mask.

“You make me sound like a dirty cop.”

“Are you? Wouldn’t put that past you neither.”

“Me? I’m just a nobody who has a lot of respect for our boys in blue.”

“Spoken like a cop.”

“Quiet,” Nobody hisses as they inch closer to Leo’s bedroom.

They enter the space, a threadbare room with only a bed covered in basic blue bedspread, a series of shelves for his swords and other weaponry, a dart board with a few kunai stuck in the bullseye, and a mat for meditation and no other forms of furniture or decoration. Hob lets out a low whistle.

“I knew the kid was intense about training, but I didn’t realize he was this hardcore ninja. Gonna have to talk to Splints about getting Leo some new hobbies.”

“Knew you freaks were homicidal maniacs,” Nobody mutters. “Shoulda put you down when I had the chance.”

“Got your chance now, creep. You gonna take it or just keep talking shit? You know for someone who thinks he’s so big and bad, you actually ain’t shit. Out of all your team, you’re the weakest link. Dome’s got his tech-controlling helmet. Bernice is a brawler. Steve’s got that indestructible noggin. Zippy Lad’s faster than hell. And don’t even get me started on Sentry. See, he’s a blowhard but at least he’s got the power to back it up. You? Ha! Like you said, you’re just some nobody on a power trip despite not even having a lick of power.”

“SHUT UP!” Nobody roars, slamming his fist into Hob’s jaw.

Hob remains upright and wipes away a droplet of blood from the corner of his mouth. He straightens back up and puts the muzzle of his gun between Nobody’s eyes. Nobody flinches back a step.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Not the strongest, fastest, or smartest in the Justice Force and you certainly ain’t the toughest in this room. Nah. You’re just a punk on a power trip. Me? I’m a survivor. That puts me one over on you. You ain’t tough. You’re just a weak, spineless piece of garbage who wants to put everyone else down around ‘em so you can be seen as better than you are by comparis—” Hob says until Nobody shoves him aside.

A knife comes flying through the air, hitting the dart board behind them—not a bullseye. Nobody whips out his gun and fires it out the room at Koya’s retreating figure.

“You saved me?” Hob asks bewildered.

“Just needed a better shot and your fat head was in the way. Bullets tend to move slower when you shoot through someone.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re speaking from experience?”

“Come on!” Nobody vaults over the bed and out the door, Hob trailing behind him.

Unbeknownst to Old Hob, as Nobody launched himself over, he slipped a packet of Ooze pellets under the bed. As they chase after the mutant falcon, Nobody grins smugly as he recalls how badly Hob wanted to catch him in the act of setting them up. The fool.

#

Back at Justice Force Headquarters, the Hamato family trail behind the Silver Sentry as he gives them the grand tour of the facilities. The first room he shows them is the meeting room. The space is vast and greatly resembles one of those military command rooms you’d see on TV. In the center of the space is a large U-shaped table with the ends pointing toward a wall of monitors. At the center point of the table sat a chair that was larger than the rest. Sentry walked over to that one and placed his hands on either side of the headrest.

“This is the meeting room, or as Nobody likes to call it: the War Room. This is where we meet to discuss plans and strategies for handling various threats—usually in conjunction with the US military or the UN, hence the monitors for video calls. Nobody sits here in the big chair which lets him think he’s better than everyone.” Sentry’s voice then slips into an approximation of Nobody’s, “No, Mr. President, I have everything under control. Yes, we are the best team and my leadership is second to none. Steve, how dare you question my authority in front of the president? Don’t you know how superior I am to you? Oh, you were in the military? I didn’t know. NOW DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY, MAGGOT!”

Mikey bursts out laughing at the impression.

“Oh my God, that’s hilarious!”

“He does seem to be rather abrasive,” Splinter says, nodding his approval of the impression.

“Abrasive is nothing. Guy’s a full-blown egomaniac. And if you think he’s bad now, you should see him when he’s on day three of a non-stop crimefighting bender with no sleep and

way

too much coffee.”

“Wow,” Raph says sarcastically with the most severe eyeroll of his life, “sure sounds like you guys make a great team. You must be the best of friends.”

“Hardly. Team only exists because some madman calling himself General Krang launched a cyber attack on the entire US in an effort to gain access to the country’s nuclear warheads. Most of us took to trying to stop the riots that broke out in the wake of what at the time seemed like literal Armageddon. It was Dr. Dome who figured out what caused the power grid and everything else to go haywire and pulled the rest of us in to help go after Krang. We were able to stop the attack but the general got away. Rumor has it he’s taken shelter on Burnow Island, one of the only landmasses that still exists without belonging to any country.”

“Why didn’t anyone claim it?” Leo asks.

“People tried in the past. According to legend the place is infested with some sort of algae or fungus or whatever that’s so toxic that only one person has ever been recorded to have gone there and made it back alive and unscathed. Everyone else who’s made it back falls extremely ill and dies shortly after.”

“Who was it that made it back? Did they record their behaviors during their time there? What happened?” Donnie asks, his scientific curiosity piqued.

“It was Baxter Stockman, CEO of TCRI. He’s never gone on record to tell anyone about what he did differently from the rest who’ve ventured there. Though, I do know he brought back samples of some of the algae and microbes that inhabit the island.”

Sentry gets a faraway look on his face, his expression pained in a way that has the boys even more curious. Silver Sentry clears his throat and forces a fake smile.

“But never mind that.” Sentry waves the topic away. “Stockman’s expedition there was years ago. Before I donned my mask and cape even. Now, let’s move onto the next room, shall we?”

They take the elevator to the next level down—the laboratory, which takes up the entire floor. Across the back wall are shelves displaying various gadgets, weapons, and tools. Along the left wall are a series of targets used to calibrate a weapon’s precision and targeting. Along the right wall are shelves of prototypes and other works in progress. In the center of the room are several work tables littered with parts, tools, and blueprints. The wall attached to the elevator has several monitors for displaying blueprints and notes on project ideas.

Donatello starts drooling the second the elevator doors open.

“Look at all this equipment!” he exclaims. “Utility fog nanobots, neuro-link operated drones, atmospheric warp generators, this is incredible!”

“Did you understand what any of that meant?” Leo asks, leaning over to Raph.

“Not a word,” Raph admits.

“Really tiny robots, mind-controlled drones, and a machine that can mess with the weather,” Mikey says.

Leo and Raph look at him as if he grew a second head.

“What? I know stuff. Besides, you watch enough sci-fi shows you tend to pick up on the nerd lingo.”

Leo shrugs while Raph rolls his eyes. At one of the tables, Splinter picks up an unfinished device.

“Who made this one?” he asks.

“Dr. Dome. He makes arguably everything in here,” Sentry answers.

“Arguably everything?” Raph questions.

“Nobody says he makes a few of these objects like the atmospheric warp generator, but I’ve never seen him actually work on anything in this lab. He usually just brings stuff in and hangs it up as inventory. He says he prefers working in his own personal workshop, but if you ask me he’s just trying to hide that he gets his gear from a third-party. Guy’s not as smart as he’d like you to believe. Trust me. Most of Dome’s science jargon goes right over his head. That said, I don’t know where he gets his equipment from. I know it’s quality stuff though. Makes Dome jealous every time Nobody brings in a new piece.”

“You sound like you’ve been investigating your teammates,” Leo remarks.

“Let’s change subjects, shall we?” Sentry says.

“Yeah, let’s talk about the tech itself. Like those gene bombs your team unleashed upon the city. Who made them?” Raph asks.

“Gene bombs?” Donatello asks. “What gene bombs?”

“The gene bombs the Justice Force planted around the city six years ago with the aim of killing every mutant in New York by targeting any and every mutation,” Raph says. “It was the height of the revolution and while we Mutanimals were able to disarm most of them, one bomb still went off. Happened to be in an area with a stem cell research hospital. Lots of people with genetic maladies were there for treatment. Every single one of them died.

“Bomb went off in such a way that nobody who wasn’t already in the know knew that a weapon had gone off at all. All anyone knew was that a bunch of people with genetic defects all dropped dead. Ironically, the mutants they were trying to exterminate all evacuated the area safely while the humans they claimed to want to protect died in the dozens.” Raph looks Sentry square in the eye. “How do you sleep at night, huh? Knowing lots of innocent people’s deaths are on your blood-stained hands?”

“Is that true?” Mikey asks in a quiet voice, looking heartbroken at the thought of his hero doing something so heinous and despicable.

Silver Sentry sighs, hanging his head.

“It’s... mostly true. There were gene bombs and the Justice Force was involved. But I swear to you when I say that I did not know of their plan. I’m the face of virtue, the morality nag, the guy who holds everyone else on the team accountable. They knew I wouldn’t approve of the plan so they went ahead with it behind my back. By the time I found out they had even planted the bombs the one the Mutanimals couldn’t get to in time had already gone off. I felt sick when I learned what they did.”

“But you didn’t out them, did you?” Raph points out. “You say you hold them all accountable yet when it came down to it you let them get away with an act of literal genocide. You could’ve gone on record and told the public what they did, what you yourself were complicit in but you didn’t.”

Sentry doesn’t respond with words but he looks up at them with a steely gaze. Leo narrows his brow as he comes to a realization.

“You needed the team to keep trusting you, didn’t you? You’re not just skeptical about Nobody’s gear. You’re actively investigating them for more nefarious behaviors, aren’t you?” Leo says.

“Like the old saying goes: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The Justice Force is full of hypocritical blowhards on power trips. Nobody in particular is on the darker side of morally grey but I’ve yet to find enough evidence to put him away for his various wrongdoings. Same for Bernice and Steve who are both addicted to Ooze. It’s what keeps them in fighting shape. Zippy Lad has some sort of ties with the EPF, hence the advanced speed-suit he wears. Dr. Dome is the only one on the team I don’t have particular disdain for. Though that could just mean he’s better at hiding his wrongdoings than the others.”

“So you’d rather cover up the big thing just so you can investigate whatever smaller crimes they’re committing?” Raph scoffs. “Great work there, Sherlock.”

“Raphael, you need to have some understanding,” Leo says. “The Justice Force set off the bomb during wartime with the intention of taking out the enemy. Yes, a peace treaty is in place now but back then nobody would’ve cared if the Justice Force set off that bomb because they’d have been more upset it failed to kill any mutants. And even though people claim to be accepting of mutants now, hate crimes still happen on the daily. Bad guys still get away with treating mutants like scum. Even hate crimes against human minorities get swept under the rug. Sentry’s not trying to win a single battle. He’s trying to win the war, to neutralize the enemy for good. He can’t do that by trying to hold them accountable for a single act of eugenics that no one would care about. But finding every last thread of shady dealings and criminal intent that the public would care about? That’s how you stop them.”

“You sound like you have a lot of experience with dealing with enemies,” Sentry comments.

“Like you said, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I know my enemies like the back of my hand. Had to learn in order to survive,” Leo says.

“I see.” Silver Sentry narrows his eyes, examining Leo. “So, training room next? It’s not just one level but multiple with state of the art equipment and an obstacle course even I have trouble completing.”

“Whatever,” Raph says, shoving past the hero. “As long as you hold your tongue, it doesn’t matter what you did and didn’t know. The blood on your team’s hands is on yours too.”

#

The Mutanimals and Justice Force race through the halls of the mutants’ home until they have Koya and Bludgeon backed into the training room with nowhere else to run. Unfortunately for the two groups, the pair of mutant ninja have the room littered with explosives.

“Not gonna blow the place, huh?” Hob mutters.

“Hand over the Hamato family and we all leave in peace rather than pieces,” Koya demands.

“What do you want with them anyway?” Sally asks. “I thought you guys weren’t in the Foot Clan anymore.”

“Technically we're not out until we’re dead,” Bludgeon says, “which is exactly why we’re going to—”

Koya cuts him off with a wave of her hand before lifting the detonator.

“Why we want them is no one’s business but ours. Now hand them over or else.”

“They ain’t here, idiot. Now how’s about you put down the trigger and get the fuck out of our home?” Ray suggests.

To his left Pete starts mumbling something under his breath. Nobody shakes his head.

“Great, stuck in a zoo with two crazy birds,” the vigilante mutters.

“I’m not cra—” Koya starts to say before suddenly dropping the detonator and doubling over, clutching her head.

“Koya!” Bludgeon calls out.

He moves to go to his friend’s side only to be tackled to the ground by Slash. Zippy Lad ties up Koya quickly as Hob and Nobody dive for the trigger. They wrestle for it until Hob pulls his gun on the vigilante.

“Drop it or I drop you.”

Nobody grunts but releases his grip on the trigger.

“Not like I was going to use it,” Nobody says.

“Yeah, sure you weren’t,” Hob says. “What just happened?”

“I prayed for help,” Pete says.

“You prayed?” Hob asks, confused if only for a moment before he realizes the demigod help Pete called upon.

“Yeah, I prayed to—”

“Don’t care.” Hob lifts a hand to gesture for him to stop. “Your religious beliefs are yours not mine. Let’s just get these two assholes and their bombs out of here.”

“I’ve got it,” Dr. Dome says, using his technopathic helmet to take apart the bombs in seconds.

“Didn’t know it could do that,” Ray says with a low whistle.

“Pfft. Don’t know about you but I’m always upgrading my tech,” Dome says.

Nobody leans over to Dome’s ear.

“Make sure we get the bombs back to base. Could come in handy in the future,” he whispers.

“Hardly,” Dr. Dome says. “I could make way better explosives than these. Hell, they wired these so sloppily we’re lucky they didn’t go off already.”

Meanwhile, Hob pulls Pete aside.

“Pete,” he whispers, “let’s not let the enemy know about our immortal magic friend, alright? Don’t think no good can come from that.”

“Good call.” Pete looks past Hob at the Justice Force as they haul Koya and Bludgeon out. “We already know the Foot have a demigod witch on their side and Rat King’s a free agent. Better not give these jerks the idea they can get their own immortal ally.”

“Exactly.” Hob lightly jabs Pete’s shoulder.

Across the room, Stainless Steel Steve holds Nobody back as everyone else files out of the room.

“Did you do it?” Steve asks in a hushed voice.

“Yep. Thanks for the stash of Ooze by the way.”

“Don’t thank me. Stole it from Bernice’s stash. She’s sore as hell I took some of hers.”

“She’ll get over it once we’ve taken down these freaks for good. Now let’s take care of the Foot Clan’s freaks first. Then, we can say we killed two birds with one stone. Heh, almost literally.”

“Is it though? Literal I mean.”

“Eh, two birds, one take down. It’s literal enough. Now come on. Can’t keep the freaks waiting for long or they’ll get suspicious.”

#

After returning to Justice Force HQ with Koya and Bludgeon, the mutant pair are split up between two different interrogation rooms in the building. Battling Bernice and Stainless Steel Steve take Bludgeon while Silver Sentry and Nobody handle Koya’s interrogation, utilizing the classic ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine.

“Listen you little freak,” Nobody growls, slamming a fist onto the table. “You’ve killed people. A lot of people in the name of the same clan that now wants you dead. Funny enough all those murders, those assassinations you did, they make the US justice system want you dead too. Heard of the death penalty? Because that’s what you’re looking at unless you cooperate.”

“Alright, enough,” Sentry says, tugging Nobody back. “Look, the Foot want you dead. You have answers we want. If you help us take down the clan then you’ll be safe—both in the ‘we’ll offer you protection’ sense as well as the ‘they won’t be around anymore to hurt you’ sense.”

Koya just stares at them for a good long moment, unimpressed at their interrogation skills.

“Really? Good cop, bad cop? Bit cliche, don’t ya think?” she asks.

“It is,” Silver Sentry says. “Hence, why I always hate doing these with Nobody but when he insists on running an interrogation, I seem to be the only one on the team willing to step in when he gets unnecessarily rough with the perps.”

“Your definition of ‘unnecessarily’ and mine are very different,” Nobody says.

“Look, your little threats don’t mean much to someone who’s already dead. And your offer of protection means even less than you think. You jokers seriously think you can take on the Foot Clan and survive? Nuh-uh.” Koya shakes her head. “The Foot are elite warriors at their base level. They’re collecting more and more mutant power each day. And to top it all off, one of the Foot’s leaders is a literal immortal demigoddess with dark magic none of you would have any hopes of fighting. Not even the sterling stud over here.”

“That’s Silver Sentry.”

“Whatever. Point is. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of them and you couldn’t protect me even if you wanted to. But let’s be honest, none of you actually wants to protect Bludgeon and me. You just want to use us and throw us away... Just. Like. Them.”

“Maybe my colleagues don’t care about your safety but I do. If you tell us more about the Foot Clan we’ll be better able to handle them and keep you safe. Furthermore, you could explain why you wish to kill the Hamato family,” Sentry says.

“That’s none of your business,” Koya says.

“Fine. Don’t tell us. Not like you really need to work at it anyhow. The Hamatos, the Mutanimals, and indeed all of Mutant Town are going to die in a week anyway,” Sentry says, studying his fingernails in feigned boredom.

#

In the security room, the mutants watch the interrogation. Hob leans in over the comouter panel.

“What the fuck did he just say?” Hob roars.

“Was that a threat against us?” Sally asks.

“No way. He knows we’re watching,” Pete says. “Maybe it’s some sort of a bluff.”

“Doubt it,” Hob argues. “There’s more they ain’t telling us.”

#

“What are you talking about?” Koya asks.

“We have it on good authority that the Purple Dragons plan to bomb Mutant Town next week during the Revolution Day celebrations,” Sentry answers. “You wouldn’t need to even lift a finger to see the Hamatos dead.”

“You wouldn’t let that happen though.” Koya shakes her head. “Bunch of innocents dying? No way.”

“I may not be willing to let such an act of terrorism slide by but then it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve failed to stop one from taking place. My cohorts and the Mutanimals would both agree on that much. Fact is, the bombing is liable to happen regardless of what you, we, or the Mutanimals,” Sentry nods over his shoulder at the security camera, “do, so why bother trying to kill the Hamatos yourself when you aren’t needed to assure their demise?”

“Yeah. Besides, what’s the point in attacking some stupid mutant family anyway? The Foot’s your real problem right now. How’s killing them supposed to save your sorry asses?” Nobody asks.

“Are the Hamatos and Mutanimals watching right now?”

“They are,” Sentry says.

“Well in that case, I’ll tell you. You see it’s quite simple.” Koya smirks. “If a member of the Foot harms a Hamato in any way, the entire clan’s souls are forfeit and their bodies are left behind as withering husks to crumble away into ash. No one leaves the Foot in any way other than death. So long as Bludgeon and I breathe, we are Foot. So we kill the Hamato family and it would be as good as one of the clan’s loyal members doing the deed. Purple Dragons pull the trigger? And we’re still dead while the Foot live on.”

“By that logic, you and Bludgeon would suffer the consequences too,” Sentry points out.

“We’re dead either way. Least this way we achieve a mutually assured destruction. Only Foot member who would be left would be the witch Kitsune. But she’s immortal anyway so taking her out would be a fool’s errand. Though she would have to rebuild her empire from scratch. Not an easy task, I’ll tell you that.”

“Okay. So you want to carry out some suicide mission to kill off the entire Foot Clan in one fell swoop. Honestly, I can respect that. But one thing still confuses me about this,” Nobody says before leaning in close, hands braced on either side of the table. “Why would killing the Hamatos hurt the Foot?”

“For once, Nobody and I are on the same page. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s because you don’t know the most precious secret the Foot has held for years now.”

“Which is?” Nobody asks, circling a hand to motion for her to continue.

Koya leans in with a smile on her face.

“Hamato Leonardo is the Chunin of the Foot. He struck a deal with Kitsune in his past life, swearing to train in spirit under Master Shredder upon his death in the Netherworld of demons, and once more in life upon his rebirth and the Foot’s glorious return. His spirit awoke into this new life as Leo blissfully ignorant of his past, his trauma until the day Oroku Karai was recruited by her witch ancestor to restore the Foot from a petty modern-day mob to a glorious empire of strength and power once more. It was at that point he was truly reborn and he was reunited with his mistress. He rose to the rank of Chunin under the new master and has carried out the clan’s dark desires since that day as per his agreement.

“So long as he serves, his family is spared from the Foot’s blades. So long as he is their loyal soldier, his family is protected. Hence, why me or Bludgeon killing his family would achieve such,” Koya takes in a deep breath, “

glorious

devastation for the Foot. Bet he didn’t tell you that, though. Did he?”

#

“Leo,” Raphael says slowly, hands gripping the edge of the security console for dear life, “for the love of God, if she’s telling the truth—”

“She’s not. I’m not the Chunin of the Foot Clan.”

“Yeah, and why should we believe you?” Hob asks, arms folded across his chest as he glares down at the turtle.

Leo looks him square in the eye and says, “Because I never lie and I just told you I’m not the Chunin.”

“No? Then what is it you do for a living, huh? Lucky Fox Industries? I looked into that place and found a whole lotta nothing. Place is some tech company but barely has a public presence in anything.”

“That’s because they deal with militaries and intelligence agencies. They handle cutting edge technology for the advancement of the world. As for what I do for them,” Leo sighs, hanging his head to make it more convincing, “I was recently demoted. I used to work directly for the CEOs as a sort of junior VP. Now I’m head of security for the company.”

“That right?” Hob raises a brow.

“That’s right.”

That is right. Once Leo knew that Koya and Bludgeon had escaped from the rest of the clan, he made sure to step down from his role as Chunin, passing the torch to Karai (who was far too smug about her promotion just being handed too her) in case of the pair inevitably decided to out Leo’s secrets. He also went from being listed in the on-the-books records as junior VP to head of security as an added measure.

Nobody had ever broken into Lucky Fox’s sole building, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“That is right,” Mondo says. “I snuck into Lucky Fox a week after Leo mentioned he worked there and saw he was listed as Junior VP. Though, his employee file made the position sound like a glorified assistant with some executive authority over lower-ranking staff. Which explains a lot about Leo’s attitude problems if you ask me. I planted a bug in their computers while I was there and noticed it updated Leo’s role in the company just the other day.”

Correction: one person has broken into Lucky Fox’s sole building before and has proven so much of a security issue that Leo was tempted to joke about Mondo’s behavior risking him a further demotion down the security team’s hierarchy. Only reason he didn’t is that it wouldn’t be true. He was only technically staffed in security and he was never in any danger of losing face with the company.

“Well, if all that’s true, then why didn’t ya just tell us all that?” Hob asks, eyes narrowed at Leonardo.

“My former position was so important that I had to sign a contract. I couldn’t talk about it.”

He did sign a contract and he couldn’t talk about his job, though the two statements were not mutually exclusive. He could have talked about his job if he wanted but he couldn’t, not because of the contract, but rather because it would cost him dearly.

Of course, that’s not what the rest of them will take his words to mean. Careful wording and manipulating the psychology of others. It’s how despite being one of the only people he knows who never lies, he is still among the most deceitful people he knows.

“You swear?” Raph asks, voice cracking as he turns to Leo, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “You swear you’re not the Chunin?”

“I swear,” Leo says.

Raphael looks down and away from him, but Leo pulls him into a hug meant to be reassuring.

“I’m on your side, Raphael. You’re my brother. I’ll always look out for you. I would never hurt you. Ever.”

As he whispers this, Leo fails to notice Michelangelo on the side, staring pensively at him. Leo might have everyone else fooled, but Mikey knows his brother well.

#

“You’re free to go,” Sentry says.

“For now,” Nobody adds, “least until we can determine the validity of Koya’s claims of little Leo here being Foot. Speaking of, don’t leave the city. We’ll be keeping a close eye on you, kid.”

“You can talk to my boss.” Leo pulls out a business card for Lucky Fox Industries and hands it to Nobody. “I can assure you, despite Koya’s claims, I am not the Chunin of the Foot Clan.”

“I’m sure,” Silver Sentry says. “A good kid like yourself would never involve yourself in something so shady.”

Mikey looks down and away. Sentry glances over at him before crossing the room to the youngest turtle’s side.

“Mikey, right?”

Michelangelo looks up at him and nods. Sentry pulls out a comic book from behind his back and hands it to him. Mikey’s eyes go wide.

“Issue one of the Gilded Guardian? No way!”

“Figured since you are—or, were a fan of the Justice Force you might have a love of comic books. Gilded Guardian’s my favorite so I keep dupes of the collector’s editions. Thought you might like this one.” Sentry leans in closer, glancing sideways at Leo as he drops his voice to a whisper. “You also seem a perceptive kid. I don’t know what your brother’s gotten himself wrapped up in, but I think you know as well as I that he’s full of shit.”

Mikey drops his head, hugging the comic to his plastron.

“I know a little something about having a relative on the wrong side of things and feeling powerless to bring them back into the light as well as paralyzed at the thought of getting them into worse trouble than they’re already in. If you ever want to talk about it, my personal number’s on the back.”

Mikey looks up as Sentry gives him a friendly wink. He flips the plastic-sealed comic over and finds a sticker with a phone number scribbled on it. He smiles up at the hero and rushes forward to hug him. Mondo and Raph both pull him away before Sentry can reciprocate.

“Dude, seriously?” Mondo asks.

“What?” Mikey asks before looking back up at Silver Sentry with a smile. “He’s the good one.”

“Pfft, if you say so,” Raph mutters, hauling him away.

“Well,” Hob says, “it’s been fun—”

“Not!” Ray interjects.

“—But we really should be leaving. Have fun with the ninja or whatever.”

The Mutanimals all pile onto the elevator. Before Hob can cross the threshold, however, Silver Sentry pulls him back to whisper in his ear.

“Were any of them alone? My team. Did you guys leave them alone in your place for even a second? Or take your eyes off their hands?”

“I look stupid to ya or something?” Hob mutters, shrugging Sentry’s hand off his shoulder before entering the elevator and letting it close behind him.

Sentry stares at the elevator door nervously. Nobody comes up behind him, patting him on the back.

“Relax, partner. Everything’s gonna be just fine now that we got those freaks on lockdown.”

Sentry forces a smile before turning to Nobody.

“Yeah. Taking down the Foot’s going to be a breeze after today. Maybe you’ll even win a medal. Or a Nobel Peace Prize.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Don’t be so easy to patronize then.”

Silver Sentry leaves the great room as the rest of his team plan their next move, knowing his presence is unwelcome and that their blissful ignorance to his super-hearing comes in handy for situations like this: when they’ve been given ample opportunity to behave immorally and are itching to bond over whatever nefarious goings on they think he’s ignorant of. He’s not sure what they did at the Mutanimals home but judging by the smug grin on Nobody’s face when they returned, he’s sure they did something. Now to listen, and hope he finds out what.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Tell us what has transpired,” Kitsune says later that night when Leo arrives at Foot HQ with urgent news regarding the traitors.

“The Justice Force,” Leo starts.

“Ugh, those losers,” Karai says. “Think they’re hot shit just because one of them has actual superpowers while the rest just utilize fancy tech or their bare fists. What of them?”

“Do not interrupt,” Shredder warns her. “Though you may be Chunin now, that does not mean you can forgo respect. Go on, Leonardo.”

“They have detained Koya and Bludgeon and are holding them in their headquarters for the time being. They plan to transfer them to some sort of facility tomorrow morning. I suggest we intercept the transport and take them out swiftly.”

“We will do nothing of the sort,” Karai says. “Or have you forgotten your rank?”

“I forget nothing but those traitors tried to out me to my family. I am owed my vengeance.”

“Did your family believe them?” Kitsune asks.

“For a moment. I have dissuaded them for now, though I know some of the Mutanimals still doubt and Hob in particular has been arguing with my father over whether or not I was honest despite Mondo Gecko’s own claims to the truth of my words.”

“What would he know of your honesty or lack thereof?” Shredder asks.

“Ah, right. I almost forgot. It would appear that Lucky Fox Industries isn’t as secure as we’d hoped. Mondo has been using his stealth abilities to sneak in and has compromised the systems at the facility. I know for certain he has logged into the employee files. Though what beyond that may be compromised I am unsure.”

“And you did not think to mention this first?” Shredder asks, narrowing his eyes at Leonardo with such restrained fury that Karai smirks at his right hand—eager that she is not the one earning her grandfather’s ire this night.

“I thought you would want to know of the traitors first. Though, I admit my outrage toward them might have clouded my focus enough to cause the information to slip from the forefront of my mind. Forgive me, Master.”

“Forgiven. Though do not let it happen again.” Shredder turns to his wife. “I thought your wards were meant to keep our asset protected from intrusion?”

“I will have to double check the integrity of them. Between my brother’s appearance some weeks ago, and Aka’s continued presence in New York, it is possible either one of them may have damaged my protections to allow such a trespass. Aka would be most likely given Mondo’s connections to both the Hamato family and to the bird known as Pigeon Pete, though we can’t rule out Rat King having broken the wards for his own purposes and leaving the building vulnerable to invasion.”

“We should hope it wasn’t Rat King,” Karai says. “From what you’ve told me, grandmother, him gaining access to the technologies your people have been developing in the labs would be catastrophic. Given such tech was used in tandem with your magicks to resurrect my grandfather, it is safe to say that we need to secure the labs immediately.”

“We shall leave such things to your grandmother,” Shredder says with a raised hand. “Lucky Fox was her brainchild. It falls solely under her purview. Koya and Bludgeon are another matter and while Leonardo may be owed his vengeance, I agree with you, child, that he cannot take part in capturing the traitors.”

Leo takes a measured breath, careful to control his outrage.

“Might I ask why, Master Shredder?”

“Do not mistake me, Leonardo. You will be allowed the death blow. The mission shall be to retrieve the mutants and drag them back here for judgment to be delivered by your hand. However, as you have stated, the Mutanimals and perhaps even your family have suspicions as to where your allegiances truly lie. If you involve yourself in capturing the pair, it might turn those suspicions into confirmations should they notice any similarities in your fighting style both in and out of uniform or your absence from the household during the attack. I know how dear your family is to you and how much it would pain you to lose that connection but do not let your need for revenge cloud your judgement so that it would only further push you from you loved ones’ arms.”

At that, Leo cannot argue.

“I understand, Master. Thank you.” Leo glances up and meets his replacement’s gaze. “Karai, promise me that you will bring Koya to me alive. I do not care what happens to Bludgeon but it was Koya’s words that sowed the seed of doubt in my family’s minds. Her life is mine to take. Agreed?”

He expects her to argue, to lord her new rank over him and refuse his request out of spite. Instead, she merely shrugs.

“I see no reason why not. Koya’s death will fall to your hands. Bludgeon, however, shall be killed on site. Speaking of, do we know where the pair are being transported?”

“Leave that to me,” Kitsune says. “I have means of gathering intel where the Justice Force are concerned.”

“If I may, Mistress,” Leo says, “how?”

“You know I’m rather curious myself,” Karai adds. “The Justice Force interfere more with our foreign operations than local. Mostly because local groups are better at sticking to the shadows. So how do you investigate the group?”

“Simple. Dr. Dome is on Lucky Fox’s payroll.”

“Really?” Leo asks with surprise. “And does he know about the company’s shadier dealings?”

“He knows about the deals made with the EPF and that we keep some of the more advanced works proprietary. But to my knowledge he is ignorant of the company’s ties to the Foot.”

“Let us keep it that way, then,” Saki says. “After all, it was his designs that helped revive me. It would be a shame to lose his talents.”

At that comment Karai and Leonardo trade shocked expressions, neither having known such a detail about their master’s resurrection.

“I will be discreet, husband. Do not worry. He won’t even recall telling me a thing.”

“Make sure that he does not, beloved.” Shredder looks back to the former Chunin. “Leonardo, you may be dismissed. I wish you luck at keeping your family in line.”

“Thank you, Master Shredder.”

Leonardo bows to Oroku Saki before leaving for the night.

#

The next morning at the Mutanimal-Hamato residence, the group eat cereal, the breakfast of champions, when suddenly the alarms start blaring. Everyone jumps into action, grabbing their weapons and taking a fighting stance.

“Splints, get the kids to safety,” Hob yells. “Whatever this is, I don’t want ‘em mixed up in it.”

“We can handle ourselves,” Leo says, swords at the ready.

An armed EPF unit breaks down the door with an explosive charge and storms in. Raphael’s eyes widen and he grabs Leo by the arm and drags him away forcefully.

“Raph, let me go!”

“No way, dude! You do not want to fight them.”

“Raph!”

As Splinter and the kids retreat, some more willingly than others, more EPF soldiers charge in shooting knock out gas canisters and tackling the Mutanimals to the ground. It takes eight of them to bring Slash to his knees. In the chaos, several gunshots go off and though the EPF have advanced tactical armor, Hob manages to pierce one soldier’s shoulder with a high-density bullet Ray designed.

“That’s enough,” a voice calls out amidst the confusion. “Stand down if you value your monstrous lives.”

“Bishop,” Hob bites out as his gun is pried from his grasp and he’s shoved down onto his knees. “Shoulda known you’d be behind this unprovoked attack.”

“Technically, you fired first, and you did damage. I’d be more impressed if you weren’t our enemy.”

“Ain’tcha hear? Mutants and humans are living peacefully now. We got rights.”

“Not after today. We got an anonymous tip that your people are supplying Mutant Town with Ooze. We’ve been finding several residents in the area with the stuff and after a simple search we’ll have the evidence to put you away for good.”

“Fucking JF motherfuckers,” Hob mutters.

“We aren’t the ones supplying this shit,” Sally growls. “The Purple Dragons have been making moves on our home for weeks now.”

“A likely story.”

“Yeah, well you won’t be finding any so-called evidence against us. Search us. We ain’t got nothing,” Ray says.

Hob’s fur prickles up and down his spine as he remembers that the Justice Force were inside their very home and the way Silver Sentry had insisted on knowing if they’d been left alone at any point. They hadn’t been, but those bastards are sneaky as shit. It wouldn’t be impossible for one of them to have planted something. From the look on Sally’s face, she’s thinking much the same.

“Oh, we’ll be searching, alright. It’s a shame the rest of your household got away though. Probably out some back exit, I’m sure. You mutants always have been clever with your quick getaways.”

“Sir,” an agent says as they dart back into the main living space from the hall, “we got something in one of the bedrooms.”

The agent holds up a baggie of the little blue pills—Ooze. Bishop smirks in triumph.

“Take them in. We’ll question them at the facility.”

“The facility, sir? Are you sure we shouldn’t just take them back to the precinct?” one female agent asks.

“The big tortoise is too strong to keep subdued for long. The local police precinct isn’t equipped to handle him and the others are too wily to be contained for long. Our facility is much better suited to the task. Besides, they’ll be spending the rest of their worthless lives there anyhow. Might as well make them feel at home sooner rather than later.”

#

April’s hard at work, studying in her family’s living room when a knock at the door catches her attention. She leaps off the couch to answer the door, finding her friends Raph, Mondo, Donnie, Mikey, and Leo at the door with Splinter. Raph shoves his way in, stomping all the way.

“Those good for nothing, hypocritical, grandstanding jerks!” Raph roars.

“Well, hello to you too, asshole,” April says with a glare before turning to Donnie. “What’s his problem?”

“He thinks the Justice Force planted evidence in our home yesterday and then called said evidence in to the authorities.”

“Of course they did! Who else knew where our home was?” Raph yells.

“The Foot,” Leo says flatly.

“Yeah and I’m really questioning how they knew that to begin with.” Raphael narrows his eyes at his older brother.

“I already told you. I am not the Chunin. How hard is that to believe?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up there,” April says, waving her hands in front of her. “Who said anything about Leo being the Chunin?”

“Koya,” Donnie, Mikey, and Mondo say in unison.

“Long story short, the JF kidnapped us yesterday after school because Koya and Bludgeon wanted to kill the Hamatos. They and the Mutanimals, myself included, went back to our home to catch them, the JF interrogated the two for information about the Foot Clan and Koya said the reason she and Bludgeon wanted to kill the Hamato family was supposedly because Leo made a deal with some witch in his past life to keep his family protected from the Foot in exchange for his service,” Mondo explains, jumping onto the couch and kicking his feet up on the armrest.

“Huh. Well, that would explain why the Chunin was always after Raph right up until these guys moved in,” April says.

“Son of a—” Raph shouts.

“ENOUGH!” Splinter yells. “Raphael, your brother has already sworn to you that he is not your enemy, and you know as well as I do that he does not speak in falsehoods. Further, your adoptive brother Mondo has similarly vouched for him based on what surveillance he has done at your brother’s place of work. I understand your frustration where the Chunin is concerned and Koya’s words do seem to cast doubt upon your brother’s innocence, but I have known Leonardo for two lifetimes now. He is simply not capable of such atrocities as what the Chunin of the Foot Clan has committed.”

“Yeah, and how do you know?”

“Because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Leonardo would sooner take his own life than that of another.”

Mikey looks down and away, recalling the same night that Splinter is thinking of as he says this. Though, where Splinter recalls that night and is made certain of Leo’s innocence, Michelangelo knows that even if Leonardo were not Foot, were not the Chunin, that he is still guilty of at least one death. And as the heroes of his comic books always say, once you’ve taken one life it becomes easier to take another and another and so on.

“In any case,” Splinter continues, “we have bigger things to worry about.”

“Yeah, like getting back at those JF jerks,” Raph agrees.

“Not a good idea,” Donnie says. “Firstly, they’re busy dealing with Koya and Bludgeon, so any attacks against them would only risk letting the pair escape to try and kill us again. Second, attacking the Justice Force would just make us look even worse than some false evidence might already have.”

“More importantly, I refuse to allow any of my children to go down the path of vengeance,” Splinter adds.

“Yeah, well I’m not your kid so I vote for vengeance,” Mondo says.

“Mondo, I understand your frustration but—”

“No, you don’t understand!” Mondo shouts. “You, Mikey, Donnie, you all got to hide away in the sewers where it was safe and you could stay blissfully ignorant of the cruel world above. You don’t know what it was like in the early days of the revolution. We had to fight to survive. Fight for food, for shelter, in self-defense against the humans who wanted us all dead. Every day was a struggle to not die.

“Cops, the Earth Protection Force, the Justice Force, even random people on the street, even those who were homeless and struggling to survive just as much as we were looked at us and saw monsters. They’d beat us or throw things at us—trash, rocks, molotov cocktails even. You name it, they threw it at us en masse. They wanted us dead and it took a literal war to get them to stop.

“You think it makes us bad to want to fight them for trying to pin a false crime on us? You think it’s wrong to stand up for ourselves to protect the ones we love no matter the cost? Leo’s said before that you’re the type of person who would choose their morals over their own family and I thought he was exaggerating before. But now? Now I see just how right he was. You’d rather take the high road and be the bigger person even as our enemies are choosing violence and treachery. That’s not how you survive.”

“Never thought I’d say this, Mondo, but you just earned a whole lot of respect in my book,” Leo says with an impressed grin.

“Do not encourage him, my son. Mondo is vying for a second war, which is precisely what our enemies want as well. If we give it to them, we give up everything the Mutanimals once fought bravely for. Every right that mutants have earned will be forfeit, and there are hardly second chances in the court of public opinion. Mutants have proven themselves to be people just the same as the humans who dominate this city. But if we strike back, we will look no better than feral animals lashing out as we are backed into a corner. I know you want to fight. I know how hard it is to restrain yourself when all you want to do is strike back at those who would hurt you and make you feel small, but know that I speak from experience when I say that lashing out even once can have disastrous consequences for you and those you love,” Splinter says.

“Yeah? And how do you know?” Mondo asks, getting up in Splinter’s face.

“I know because the one time I spoke out against the Shredder was enough to justify in his eyes the need for my destruction and the deaths of my family.”

“Oh please, Shredder attacked our family because you kept getting involved when he attacked random villagers and he couldn’t stand for that rebellion.”

“And why do you think he attacked the village, my son? Why do you think we never stayed in one place for very long when you were growing up? Oroku Saki knew that I had a soft heart bent on protecting the innocent. He launched assault after assault on village after village in the hopes of drawing me out. Eventually, it proved too much for me to ignore and it only took that one time to lose your mother and nearly lose you boys in the process.” Splinter turns away from his eldest and back to Mondo, lifting a single finger. “One time. One act of defiance is all it took to ignite the raging fire that brought about my entire family’s demise. So, I ask you, Mondo Gecko, is it truly worth it to fight back even if it could cost you everything you fight for?”

Mondo merely purses his lips in response and turns his back to Splinter before crossing the room.

“Maybe we don’t need to go the revenge route,” Mikey says. “What if we got the JF to confess to what they did?”

“Doubt it’ll be that easy,” Donnie says.

“Oh it’s that easy. Nobody’s such a smug asshole he’d admit to it just to gloat,” Raphael retorts. “Plus it’s not like guys like him really have to worry about public opinion turning against them.”

“Raph’s right. Even if you do record a confession and broadcast it worldwide, there’s still no guarantee that anything will be done about it. There are people serving time despite someone else being the actual perpetrator and confessing to it,” April says.

“Well, how does that work exactly? If one person’s in jail for a crime and some other person confesses then wouldn’t the first person just be let go?” Donnie asks.

“Not necessarily. Sometimes they just lock both guys up for the crime even if there’s little evidence that either of them did it.”

“What. The. Fuck,” Donnie says.

“I know right? It’s why I have such an appreciation for journalists. They actually care about getting

all

the facts.” April pauses and gets a sideways look on her face. “Mostly. Fox News doesn’t count.”

“Fox News doesn’t even count as news. It’s just racist and queerphobic propaganda trying to brainwash people into thinking that the America they’re living in is one of the greatest countries on Earth when the reality is it’s this close,” Mondo pinches his fingers together so barely a millimeter’s space is between them, “to turning into a fascist dictatorship ruled by white supremacists and/or the one percent. Most likely both.”

“Preach!” April high fives Mondo.

“We’re getting off topic here,” Leo says. “We need to focus on the threat at hand.”

“The Justice Force.” Raphael nods.

“I don’t know. Silver Sentry doesn’t seem so bad,” Mikey says.

“He would be the only one it would seem,” Splinter says. “I have spent very little time around this Justice Force yet even I can tell that the Silver Sentry is genuine in his good nature. It is those he surrounds himself with that are the problem. Most especially the one who calls himself Nobody.”

“No kidding. My neighbor Mr. Clark is super active in the community, so he’s heard a ton about the kind of semi-illegal shit Nobody gets into with his vigilante bullshit. Guy abuses his power left and right and folks like me are the ones he targets the most.”

“I thought he hated mutants not humans,” Donnie says.

“Them too but human-wise I meant dark-skinned folks. Guy’s a raging racist if I ever saw one. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was in the New York chapter of the KKK.”

“Look, I get wanting to go up against the JF,” Mikey says. “I do. They hurt us, so you guys want to hurt ‘em back. But the issue isn’t about getting back at them for taking the rest of our family—”

Leo scoffs.

“Our. Family,” Mikey continues, glaring daggers at his elder brother. “The issue is rescuing the Mutanimals. We need to find out where they’ve taken them.”

“Now that sounds like a true plan. Donatello, would you be able to hack something for information?” Splinter asks.

“Probably. Give me five minutes and I can access the JF’s systems.”

Donnie cracks his knuckles before pulling over April’s laptop and setting to work on it despite the annoyed glare she sends his way for not even asking to borrow it.

“How the hell do you plan to do that?” Raphael asks.

“When Sentry kidnapped us, I grabbed a spy drone from the hovertank’s storage compartments and let it loose in their headquarters. Thing’s designed to surveil and access computer networks. If I can just... Got it!”

Donnie pulls up the Justice Force’s computer system just as a knock sounds at April’s door.

“I’ll get it,” she says, crossing the room to answer the door.

Her neighbor Kenneth Clark, a tall muscular black man with a pair of glasses smiles at her in greeting holding a cup in his hand.

“Hi, April! Oh, and friends. Pleasure to meet you all,” Kenny says. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in, but my daughter needed some milk for her cereal and it would seem I forgot to grab some at the store the other day so, I was hoping...”

“Don’t sweat it. I got you. Give me just a minute.”

“Looks like they’re taking the Mutanimals to some facility in Hoboken called Judicial Corrections,” Donnie says.

“Judicial Corrections?” Kenny asks. “That place has been shut down for a few years now.”

“Yeah, and how would you know?” Raph asks.

“My cousin Baxter deals in military technologies. He told me that the facility was shut down years ago because of some rodent infestation. Though he said the EPF still uses the name as a cover for some research facility beneath Pundam Penitentiary.”

“Did you just say the EPF?” Mondo shrieks.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Kenny asks as April hands him a cup of milk. “And what’s this about the Mutanimals? Are they okay?”

“Yep. A-okay. Nothing wrong here. Why don’t you run along now? Wouldn’t want to keep your daughter waiting!” April shoos Kenny out the door with a smile before slamming the door behind him.

Unbeknownst to her, Kenny leaves with a sly grin, hoping he gave the mutants just enough information to save their friends from his cohorts’ machinations.

“Did he say his cousin’s name was Baxter? As in Baxter Stockman?” Raph asks.

“Well, Baxter isn’t that common of a name these days and there are probably fewer who deal in technology and even fewer who deal in military technology specifically so it would be a safe bet to assume his cousin and Baxter Stockman are one in the same,” Donnie says.

“Should we even trust his word if he’s Stockman’s cousin?” Leo questions.

“We can,” April says. “Trust me. I’ve lived next door to Mr. Clark most of my life and he’s never struck me as being even remotely similar to Stockman. Guy’s sweet as can be.”

“I agree. He seems like a stand-up guy. I say we should trust him,” Mikey adds, not willing to voice his suspicions about April’s neighbor.

It can’t be a coincidence that Silver Sentry mentioned having a relative on the wrong side of things and then April’s buff neighbor also happens to be related to Stockman and be dropping some intel just when they’re planning a rescue. Mikey smiles to himself, glad to see that his hero is as noble as he previously assumed despite the company he keeps. Maybe he can convince Raph and Mondo of the same one of these days.

“Well, if this Mr. Clark is to be believed then our friends are even greater danger than we previously assumed. From what Hob has told me of the EPF they have technologies far beyond that of your average cop and are far crueler to boot. We must act quickly.”

“This bites! Those crooked politicians!” Mondo shouts. “When the human-mutant peace treaty was signed they swore that no mutant would ever be held captive at Pundam or by the EPF ever again. What a load of bull—”

“Look, is it good that the Mutanimals are at Pundam? No. Is it good that we at least have a lead as to where they are? Yes. So, how’s about you stop grandstanding about the injustice of it and start getting your head on straight enough to figure out what to do with this intel?” Leo says.

“Since when are you all gun-ho about helping someone other than this family?” Donnie asks.

“I have a good feeling about this,” is all Leo says in response.

It’s all he can say without lying. He does have a good feeling but it’s based in the hunch he has that the Mutanimals were taken to the same place as Koya and Bludgeon. If the Foot Clan are there, the chances of his family’s survival skyrocket. Further, if the EPF are busy dealing with the Foot then his family will be able to carry out their pointless rescue mission with relative ease. He catches Mikey looking at him suspiciously but his little brother quickly turns his head.

“So, we’re busting into Pundam then?” Raph asks.

“Swore I’d never go back there after the war ended, but yeah. We have no choice. It’s this or we leave our family to rot,” Mondo says.

“We need a plan. Raphael, Mondo, you two know the most about this facility. What do you suggest?” Splinter asks.

“Mondo should lead the mission,” Raph says quickly.

“What? Me?”

“Yeah you. Between the two of us you have the most experience with breaking in and out of that joint.”

“You guys are gonna have to tell me about your war-time experiences sometime,” Mikey says.

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Mondo starts as Leonardo slinks away to the bathroom.

He shoots off a quick text to Karai about his family’s plan to break into Pundam to rescue the Mutanimals and asks if Koya and Bludgeon have been taken there as well. Karai confirms that the pair are being held at Pundam in the cells right across from the Mutanimals. Leonardo had hoped they would be held on a separate level to draw the agents’ attention from the Mutanimals’ location. Alas, things won’t ever be too easy for him.

#

At Pundam Penitentiary, the Mutanimals are loaded onto a hidden elevator and taken down to a sublevel five stories down. They arrive with Agent John Bishop and various other EPF agents in a subterranean prison complex with three levels of plexiglass cells in seemingly endless rows on either side of the space. The sight of dozens of mutants locked up where no one could find them, when no one knew they needed to be found, makes Hob’s heart drop into his stomach.

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Hob, since the treaty was signed. Tell me, do you remember what I said back then?” Bishop asks.

“Yeah, you tried to kill me after the treaty was passed then when I kicked your ass and reminded you the treaty had been signed you said—” Hob says.

“’Damn the laws made by weakhearted men,” he and Bishop say in unsion before Hob lets Bishop take over the rest.

“I will see each of you monsters caged or dead by my hand one day, just mark my words.’” Bishop’s grin grows smug as he turns to look Hob dead in the eye. “Told you.”

“It’s not every mutant,” Hob mutters, glancing around the space.

“Not yet maybe but soon enough it will be. Tell me, did you even know some of your kind had been taken?” At Hob’s silence, Bishop answers for him. “No, I don’t suppose you did. When the treaty was first passed I thought it was a mistake made by foolish politicians who merely wanted to keep the peace and end a war that hit them too close to home. But now? Now I see it for what it truly was. An opportunity. Once mutants were given the freedom to leave New York, leave the safety and protection of you Mutanimals, they became vulnerable and easily snatched up without anyone caring in the slightest what happened to them.”

“Not even you,” Bishop leans in close to speak into Hob’s ear.

Hob shoves him away and Bishop hits a button on a remote in his hand. This triggers the Mutanimals’ handcuffs to implement a series of electroshocks to keep them in line. Hob stumbles and grunts, nearly keeling over before looking up at Bishop with a hearty growl escaping his throat.

“Careful, Mr. Hob.” Bishop waves the remote with a smile. “You wouldn’t want to cause your friends any more pain, would you? Or maybe you care as little for them as the rest of these mutants you once swore to protect?”

Hob swallows his anger, letting the guilt creep in instead, ears falling back in shame. He hadn’t known, hadn’t saved them, any of them. How many of his people were down here? How long had they been down here? How many died down here, hoping, praying that he would save them? He failed them.

The guards tug at their restraints and lead them to their cells. As they walk down the lengthy corridor, the other prisoners gawk at them. Some yell obscenities their way, accusing them of abandoning them or failing them. Others call them sell-outs and hypocrites who swore it would always be ‘mutants first’ only to turn around and get in bed with the enemy, the humans who’ve provided them freedoms and prestige while the rest of them are still treated no better than wild animals. Sally taps at Hob’s back.

“Just ignore them,” she whispers to him.

“Easy for you to say. You ain’t the one who made promises they couldn’t keep.”

“We’re all Mutanimals, Hob. You, me, Ray, Pete, all of us. We’re all in this together. So if you failed, then we all did. Got it? It’s not your fau—AHH!” another round of electroshocks zaps them as they reach their cells at the far end, right across from Koya and Bludgeon.

“Quiet, please,” Bishop says before hitting a second button on the remote.

The button releases the cuffs, the Mutanimals still dazed from the jolts as the guards shove them inside the open cells before they can gather their wits. Hob lands on the cold concrete floor with a thud as the plexiglass door slams shut behind him.

“Get comfortable, Mr. Hob. You’re going to be here for a good, long while,” Bishop says as his heels clack back up the corridor.

#

Karai leads a team of ninja up to the exterior of Pundam Penitentiary and holds up a fist to signal the others to wait. She pulls out a set of binoculars and eyes the security around the facility. Two guards at the gates, two more at the front door and two each at either corner watchtower.

She turns to the rest of her team and signs that she wants the team split into two groups. One shall attack from the front and draw the guards’ attentions while the other will enter from the back and head down into the sublevels after the targets. When one of the ninja asks her what she will be doing, Karai says she’ll be headed for the control room to disable the security features such as locks, knockout gas and machine guns.

She gives the signal and the two groups break off. The first makes quick work of the two guards at the gate and disarming the ones at the entrance, making sure not to kill them before they can signal for backup and draw the rest of their cohorts. The second group sneaks in the back while the rear-end watchtower guards are drawn up front by the commotion.

Karai follows behind them before splitting off to head for the control room. Once she reaches the room, she listens briefly for the number of guards yammering off into the radios. She makes out four distinct voices and brings up a compact mirror to peer around the corner for their weapons. Unarmed the lot of them. Fools. Arrogant and so assured in their safety in the control room they don’t think to keep themselves guarded as well, not even enough to keep the damned door closed as a barrier between them and the enemy.

She kills the four of them quickly and shuts off the intercom as more of the guards elsewhere clamor for a reply or intel. She shuts the door, locking it as the fool guards never did and pulls up a chair, fingers flitting over the control panel as she sets the security system to work for her and the Foot. She smiles to herself as she shuts off the locking mechanisms in her fellow ninja’s path and releases the human inmates on the surface levels to add to the chaos.

Kitsune warned her that Pundam had the best security in New York. Karai wonders a moment if she, much like the prison’s security, is getting cocky or if perhaps her grandmother oversold the competence of her opponents. She’s about to think to herself that this mission is turning out to be a piece of cake before she notices that the sublevels’ security system doesn’t operate under the same control room. There must be another one lower down.

With a sigh, she places a device developed by Lucky Fox Industries under the control panel to keep her in control of the upper levels’ system before heading out toward the hidden elevators Kitsune had marked on the layout of the prison during their briefing. She pries open the elevator doors to find the empty shaft and secures a line before rappelling down, down, down into the dark. Once she hits the top of the elevator unit itself she pries open the doors in front of her and is met with a series of guns in her face.

She shuts them again before the bullets can hit her, only a few sneaking through the cracks to hit the wall behind her. Karai drops down into the elevator unit and presses the button for the first sublevel. She waits until it reaches the halfway point and hits the emergency stop. She uses a laser cutter to open up a hole in the doors and throws a grenade through to the waiting guards on the other side.

She ducks for cover and waits for the shrapnel to take out her opponents before prying the doors open and racing through the halls. Karai skims the walls with another Lucky Fox gadget which scans the electrical system behind the drywall to track the power fluctuations and uses this to locate the sublevel security room. She makes a beeline for the security room and hopes that this other room’s guards are just as incompetent as the first’s.

#

Down in the primary mutant prison level, Agent Bishop receives communication about the infiltration. Yet no alarms sound. Instead, a squad of soldiers comes running in, turning back to the doors they came from with guns drawn.

“Agent Blanque, you’re supposed to be patrolling the upper levels,” Bishop says.

“We were, until the machine guns popped out of the ceiling and started shooting at us. Whole facility’s gone haywire,” Agent Blanque, a tall muscular man with red hair responds.

“Doubt we’re safe here,” another EPF agent whimpers, glancing at the ceiling as if it too will turn on them at any moment.

Agent Bishop snatches the skittish agent’s gun from his hands and passes by at an even pace.

“Wait here and guard the prisoners. Keep them contained at all costs. Kill them if all else fails,” Bishop says.

“Where are you going, sir? I told you. The facility—” Blanque starts.

“Is ours and ours alone. If you want to be cowed by your own base, feel free to turn in your badge at any time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to show this facility who’s boss and take care of whatever little pest has gotten to the controls.”

With Bishop gone, the prisoners decide to get rowdy, their glares turning from the agents to the Mutanimals in the center-most cells.

“Traitors!” one mutant shouts.

“Liars!” another yells.

“You said you’d protect us!”

“Sellouts!”

“We didn’t sell out!” Sally shouts back.

“Oh yeah? Then why is it that once you got your fancy little peace treaty you got lauded as heroes and got freedom and respect but we got rounded up and thrown in cells down here? Huh?” a mutant antelope asks.

“We didn’t know!” Ray yells.

“You should have known!” a mutant komodo dragon yells back.

“What is it you guys used to say? Mutants look out for mutants? Real nice job you’ve been doing,” a mutant mandrill says.

“You’re not Mighty Mutanimals anymore. You’re just a PR stunt by the humans in charge to convince the few sympathetic ones that they’re the good guys because ‘Look how progressive we are. We have your favorite mutants on

our

side!’”

More insults are flung their way, striking Hob straight through the heart as he curls in on himself, ears downturned and tail wrapped around his legs. Sally roars loud, silencing everyone.

“Hey, quiet down over there!” Blanque orders, pointing his gun away from the door for the first time since he entered the room.

“Fuck off already!” one mutant shouts.

“Yeah!” another agrees.

Blanque mutters to himself but refocuses his attention on the only exit.

“You realize this is why so many mutants have been turned to the Foot’s side, right?” Koya says, catching Hob’s attention. “You’ve failed your people, become a symbol of submission to human norms instead of standing up for our kind. Sure, some Foot mutants were turned by the Foot directly, like Alopex. But me, Bludgeon, Bebop, Rocksteady, we were all turned at ground zero for the revolution and you failed us. You couldn’t protect us when the humans attacked but the Foot came out in droves to save us, protect us, give us a home.”

“We did the best we could!” Pete shouts. “There just—it wasn’t enough. Alright, we’re one small group and New York is a big city. Even mutated I’ve yet to be able to fly over all of it.”

“Exactly. You made a promise to protect everyone everywhere, and yet you failed to deliver because you didn’t have the manpower nor the resources to do so. The Foot? The Foot has all of that and then some. They provided what you couldn’t. Guarantee the Foot are the ones invading right now to kill Bludge and me and when they do they’ll probably free the rest of these mutants and offer them exactly what we were offered. And how many do you think will pass them up on that when you Mighty Mutanimals can’t offer them any better? Or can’t even save yourselves?”

Sally growls, about to respond when Hob beats her to the punch.

“She’s right,” he mutters. “She’s right.”

#

Outside of Pundam, Donatello attempts to hack the security on the doors to get him and the others inside to no avail. Meanwhile, his family—Mondo included—fend off both prison security and Foot ninja.

“Ugh! It’s no use. System’s under control from another source. I can’t hack into it and unless whatever’s taken control is located on the exterior—which is highly unlikely—there's no way for me to stop it. We’re locked out.”

“What if Raph breaks the door down?” Mikey suggests as his nunchaku collide with the helmeted skull of a prison guard, knocking him out with minimal damage.

“No can do,” Raphael says. “Pundam was built to withstand a bomb attack. Nothing I could do would even make a scratch.”

“Incoming!” Mondo shouts.

“Incoming from where?” Mikey yells.

The gecko is invisible as he whacks his reinforced skateboard over a ninja’s head. The skateboard, much like his clothes was adapted by Ray with what he calls Shimmer Tech, a series of nanites that recognizes when Mondo is in stealth mode and adapts the affected objects to turn invisible as well. He turns visible again to point off into the distant sky.

“There! It’s the Justice Force!”

“Oh crud,” Raph mutters as he finally spots them.

Battling Bernice, Dr. Dome, Zippy Lad, and Stainless Steel Steve all lead by Nobody in a hovercraft. Silver Sentry is nowhere to be seen yet with the presence of the JF adding to the fray, things just went from bad to worse.

Zippy Lad knocks out two dozen ninja in a rapid zigzag pattern. Stainless Steel Steve and Battling Bernice drop down from the team’s hovercraft pummeling a crater into the center of the battle upon impact, taking out both ninja and prison guards alike, though the latter is unintentional. Dr. Dome sends down his dome-bots to attack the crowd while Nobody mans the hovercrafts weapons array as Dome continues to pilot it.

“I’ve got the Justice Force. You guys focus on the security,” Leo says before charging the so-called superheroes.

He taps a ninja on the shoulder and makes a series of gestures behind his back as he runs to signal them a reminder to keep his family from harm. The ninja is swiftly taken out by Mikey before the ninja can pass along the order. Michelangelo, however, notices the gestures and makes a mental note to ask Raph for some MSL lessons.

#

Whoever said hijacking two separate security stations while simultaneously trying to keep from being hijacked in turn was easy didn’t know what they were talking about. Okay, maybe nobody said that but that doesn’t diminish the struggle Karai is having trying to juggle her end of the mission.

“Step away from the control console before I shoot you in the head,” an EPF agent says.

And just like that, her job just got a lot harder.

“Now,” the agent repeats.

“Alright, alright. No need to fuss.” Karai rises slowly from her chair, keeping her gaze fixed on the reflective surface of the metal edges of the security console.

In the reflection she can see the agent with a relaxed stance yet his finger on the trigger. Everyone who uses a gun knows you don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to shoot. Cops and government agents often break this rule because they’re tense, trigger-happy nutjobs who don’t know the first thing about de-escalation. Not this guy. This EPF agent seems to have an air of confidence and competence that lets you know that he’s in control... for now at least.

“May I turn around so I can face my captor?” she asks.

“No.”

Alright, so he knows that she’s got tricks up her sleeve. She’s not going to let that stop her. If he intends to kill her regardless, she’s at least going to give him one hell of a time doing it.

“Take your hands off the console.”

“Make me.”

She hooks her foot under the chair and kicks it up at the agent, throwing off his shot which grazes her shoulder. Karai unsheathes her sword and slices the gun in half before he can react. Once he does react, though, he’s on the defense, dodging and swerving from every sword strike. When backed into a corner, he catches Karai’s blades between his hands before colliding his knee into her gut. He hooks his foot behind her leg and trips her up.

Her grip on her blade comes undone and he tosses the sword into the air before catching it by the hilt. He stabs the sword down toward her head only for Karai to roll aside at the last second. She gets back to her feet and throws three kunai at him, expecting him to maybe dodge. Instead, the agent deflects the kunai with her sword angling the sword in such a way that the kunai’s arc is twisted around and flung right back at her, hitting deep into her lower leg.

She buckles, collapsing to the floor as the agent tries to bring the sword down on her once more. She rolls over onto her back to catch the blade. Though unlike her opponent, she can only manage to catch it in a single hand. Despite her leather gauntlets, the sword still digs into her palms, drawing blood that drips slowly onto her face. Nevertheless, her grip holds firm, preventing him from drawing back the sword and trying again.

“You’re good,” she admits begrudgingly.

“I’ve had years of practice. Centuries you could even say.”

“Ugh. You sound like my coworker.” She pauses. “Are you a demigod?”

“Please,” he scoffs. “If you think I’m one of your grandmother’s siblings, then you clearly know less about us than we do of you.”

So he knows about her grandmother. And she doesn’t even know his name.

“Name’s Karai,” she says. “What’s yours?”

“Agent John Bishop, head of the Earth Protection Force. Though if you think you can find anything on me from my name, I can assure you, you’d be sorely disappointed.”

He lifts his boot and aims his foot for her head. She shoves the blade to the side so she can roll away before her skull gets stomped in.

“You won’t win this,” Bishop says. “I’ve trained in more martial arts styles and for far longer than you. You will die.”

“Maybe,” she slams her elbow against the release switch, opening all of the mutant cells, “but they’ll still kill you.”

#

Just as the Foot ninja come pouring into the mutant holding area, the cell doors swing open leaving the EPF agents clueless as to who they should aim their weapons at; the invading ninja or the prisoners. Either way, they are hopelessly outnumbered.

“ATTACK!” a mutant bear shouts, leaping at an agent and relieving them of their weapon before they had a chance to react.

The bear slashes their claws across the agent’s face as the other agents open fire at them. Some of the mutants duck for cover back into their cells while the swifter and more agile ones dodge the bullets and wrestle the guns away. The ninja take advantage of the mutant melee and charge after Koya and Bludgeon who stand their ground against their former allies.

The first ninja strikes out at Koya with their sword but misses as she takes to the air. Bludgeon grabs the ninja’s hands, headbutting them before wrenching the sword out of their weakening grasp. He casually tosses the blade between his hands before swinging it at an incoming ninja’s head, decapitating them in one fell swoop. He dodges two more sword attacks from a pair of ninja and grabs them both by their arms, holding them in one of his beefy hands as he throws them clear across the room.

“Koya, catch!”

Bludgeon tosses the sword he stole into the air to his partner just as several ninja shoot at her with their arrows. Koya catches the sword in her foot and slices the arrows from the air before diving down to slash through the archers in one fell swoop. Only some of them are cut, but the impact from her rapid dive knocks the rest of them out cold.

As former and current Foot ninja fight against each other, the Mutanimals join the frenzy with the rest of the mutants. Several of the prisoners had stolen the guns from the EPF agents and turned them back at them, killing at least three of the agents and injuring more. Just as one agent is about to shoot a mutant stork through the skull, Hob knocks them out with one punch. The stork turns to him with a look of disgust.

“Worry about yourself,” the stork snaps. “It’s what you Mutanimals do best.”

“You’re welcome,” Hob mutters to the stork’s back as they fly off out the door.

“Hey,” Sally slams the butt of a gun into an agent’s head before one-shotting another through the skull, “don’t let them get to you. We may not have known about this before but we’re here now.”

“Yeah, as prisoners. Not exactly the rescue I’m sure they were hoping for.”

Pete snatches Hob into the air before a stray bullet can tear through his gut.

“Thanks Pete. Good looking out.”

Pete stays silent for a moment before depositing Hob on the other side of the room.

“Pete?” Hob reaches for Pete’s arm as the pigeon turns to head back into the fray.

More silence and then, “Do you think it’ll ever be over? The fighting?”

Hob knows he means more than just this one fight.

“I don’t know.” He pauses. “Sad thing is, I kinda thought it already was.”

“Yeah,” Pete says in a hush, “me too.”

He flies off toward the fallen archers and snatches up one of the bows and quivers. He perches in the rafters and starts picking off agents and ninja alike one by one, showing surprising skill with the weapon and even saving Bludgeon from a sneak attack. Koya flies up to join him with her own stolen bow and arrows.

“Thanks for that,” she says to him.

“No problem. It’s what we do.” He takes out a ninja with an arrow to the heart.

“Where’d you learn to use a bow?”

“The Mutanimals struggled to get bullets for a while there during the Revolution so I suggested we try making bows and arrows instead. Nobody else agreed with it saying that they weren’t going to use inferior weapons but I still went ahead and tried it out. Wound up getting good at it but by then the team had already gotten their hands on more bullets so nobody really took notice.” He misses a gut shot, the arrow instead embedding in the agent’s arm. “Still practice sometimes back home.”

“You should’ve been a Foot ninja.”

“Speaking of Foot, you said Leo was the Chunin yet he swears that he’s not. Why should we believe you? And I don’t mean that to say I doubt you, because quite frankly Leo kinda gives me the same creeped out feeling I get whenever we used to face the Chunin. I’m just looking for proof so as to convince the others Leo really is lying.”

“Leonardo never lies. It’s like his thing. But once Bludgeon and I turned tail and ran he probably figured I’d spill his secrets sooner or later and agreed to let Karai take the position. She’s been gunning for it long enough and as long as the question is, ‘Are you the Chunin?’ and not, ‘Are you in the Foot Clan?’, he’s still able to be honest yet deceptive. But if you want proof, here it is, your guys’ lair is beneath the old Bronx Zoo. The entrance is an elevator hidden behind a poster in the World of Reptiles exhibit. Passcode is 19491. We know this because Leo told us. How else would we have this information?”

“And everyone in the Foot knows this?”

“Only the higher-ups. I’d say about a dozen people or so know this stuff.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Pete says sarcastically.

“Pete!” Mondo says, turning from invisible to visible along the rafters behind Pete.

“GAH! Don’t do that! You know I’m jumpy.”

“Sorry,” Mondo says as Pete hits an EPF agent with an arrow. “Nice shot.”

“What are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”

“Snuck in in between spurts of control switching.”

“Huh?” Pete cocks his head in confusion.

“Donnie’s trying to get control of the security systems but he’s having trouble. Someone else is highjacking it.”

“The Foot.”

“Obviously the Foot. Who’s in control keeps flipping back and forth so when Donnie gets control I just slip in through the cracks and wait for my moment. Wasn’t easy though, and I don’t think Donnie’s the one fighting for control of the sublevels. But whoever’s fighting for control down here must have their focus split since even that conflict was enough for me to get past.”

“What’s going on topside?”

“Well, the Foot and our guys are fighting the prison security but the Justice Force showed up just a bit ago and—”

“The Justice Force?! Please tell me Sentry’s not with them otherwise our goose is cooked.”

“Didn’t see him but even without their heavy hitter the others aren’t going to last long against the so-called heroes. We need to boogie. Fast.”

“Trying. Watch out!” Pete shoots an agent who climbed the rafters, causing them to fall over the edge.

“Thanks Pete.”

“Turn invisible and stay safe.”

“Way ahead of—” Mondo is in the middle of turning invisible when the ceiling shakes and caves in.

The fighting stops dead in its tracks as the Silver Sentry appears in the rubble like a bullet punched through the roof.

“Ah shit,” Hob mutters.

Silver Sentry cracks his neck then rolls his shoulders. The mutants all tense up as the ninja slink back into the shadows, not quite retreating but neither abandoning their mission. Just when it seems the hero in silver and blue spandex is about to attack, he holds up a phone with a smirk on his face.

“Ladies, gentlemen, friends from all corners of the world,” he says, “I told you that the Earth Protection Force were breaking the Human-Mutant Treaty of 2019 and here is your proof. Hidden beneath Pundam Penitentiary we find dozens of mutants fighting for their freedom and survival in a level several stories beneath the earth that isn’t listed on the prison’s maps. These people are innocent of any true crime. The only reason for their incarceration being the mutagen in their bodies. Mr. President,” he turns the camera around to face himself, “as the EPF reports directly to you, what say you in regards to this direct violation of peace and harmony between the human and mutant species? After all such blatant violation of a wartime treaty would no doubt lead to a resurgence of that same conflict that cost us so many American lives.”

He presses a button his phone causing the top half to split in two and project twin holographic screens, one depicting the people of Times Square reacting to this live broadcast, the other of the Oval Office and President Thomas Waltz who is squirming under the public eye. The president clears his throat, adjusting his tie.

“Well, obviously I knew nothing of this transgression. The EPF was certainly not authorized to act in this manner and I can assure the American people that a thorough investigation will be held to get to the bottom of this act of—of—of treason. For surely to act against such an important treaty is to betray the interest of this country and its fine people. Heh. Uh, so thank you, Silver Sentry for exposing these wrongdoings thusly. As always, your dedication to justice for all, as per our constitution, goes above and beyond and is much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of service, Mr. President but before we hang up this call, perhaps you could give the official order to these agents to cease and desist, and to release these fine American citizens immediately?”

“Y—Yes, of course. Stand down, gentlemen. This prison of yours is hereby shut down effective immediately and you are to release these mutants to the freedom they are so entitled. Understood?”

The EPF agents gaze warily around the room.

“Is that understood?” the president says more forcefully.

“Sir, yes, sir.” The agents give a half-hearted salute before dropping their weapons.

The Foot ninja take that as opportunity to pick up the discarded weapons and take aim at Koya and Bludgeon. Sentry, however, uses his superhuman speed to catch the bullets midair and disarm the ninja. He ties them up in a blur of silver and dusts off his hands.

“You folks okay?” he asks the mutants as the EPF exit the room with their proverbial tails between their legs.

“Fuck off, showboat!” A mutant tiger flips off the hero before the mutants all flee the space through the hole left behind by Silver Sentry.

Nobody rappels down into the crater with a grappling hook and marches up to Sentry before slapping him in the face. He instantly regrets this as his hand breaks upon impact.

“Now, Nobody, surely that behavior was uncalled for. As the president of these United States of America has just said, I am a dutiful servant of justice and freedom and was only acting in benefit of the American people by preventing another all-out war. Surely,

you

do not have a problem with this?”

Sentry holds up his camera phone again. Nobody’s eyes dart between the camera and Sentry before shoving the camera aside to get up in the Sentry’s space.

“Just because you forced the president’s hand in your favor doesn’t mean you’re in the right. You acted in defiance of this team and you’ll be lucky to not be voted out,” Nobody hisses under his breath.

“And should I be voted out of the team, you and I will no longer be allies, no longer friends. I would advise you to consider whether or not you want to lose me as a friend, because the alternative...” Sentry trails off with a smirk on his face as he leans over Nobody, taking full advantage of their height difference.

Nobody growls then rappels back up the hole without another word. Hob marches up to Silver Sentry and shoves him around to look at him.

“This is all your fault! You pompous, two-faced—”

“I wasn’t the one to put you here. On the contrary, I had no idea until quite recently that this facility even existed and when I discovered as much from spying on my associates, I quickly gathered as many resources as I could to prove the agency’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“You expect me to believe that? That what, you just spy on your friends and that you weren’t involved in this arrest?”

“You know what they say. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. I only joined the JF because I knew the damage powerful men could do when left to join forces with no one to keep their power in check.”

“Yeah, and who keeps your power in check?”

“My wife. Before I forget.” Sentry brushes past Hob. “Koya, Bludgeon,” Sentry calls out just before Koya can take off with her partner in crime. “If I may, I would like you both to have these.” He pulls out a pair of phones from his belt and hands them to the pair. “Burner cells. My number’s already in there for you to contact in case of an emergency or in case you want to offer up information against your former employers. Though the latter is strictly up to you. You won’t be forced to share if you don’t wish to. Just say the word and I can fly you to any hidden corner of the world you would like. You’ll be safe and hidden from the Foot Clan and any other enemies you may have made in the past, free to live out your lives in peace. What do you say?”

The pair trade a glance, a silent agreement forming between them. They turn back to Sentry and nod. He scoops them both up and spirits them away at breakneck speeds just as Karai comes charging in, too late to catch her prey.

“NO!” she screams in dismay.

Agent Bishop chases behind her and tries to shoot her. Karai narrowly avoids one bullet while another pierces her gut. She throws down a smoke bomb and escapes before the air clears. With his opponent gone, he turns his gone on the Mutanimals, the only mutants still lingering behinds when suddenly he starts convulsing and collapses to the ground. Beside him, Mondo reveals himself with a taser, switching out of camouflage mode. The Mutanimals reconvene topside to find the Justice Force restrained by the rest of their blended family and news copters flying in.

“So, everybody ready to go home?” Donatello asks. “I’m exhausted.”

“Can we even go home?” Splinter asks. “Is it truly safe now that the EPF know where we live?”

Before Hob can respond, Pete speaks first.

“It’s not the EPF or even the Justice Force we need to worry about. Sentry took care of them, at least enough to put them on a tight leash. The real threat is the Foot.”

“The Foot?” Hob asks.

“Yeah,” Pete looks Leo dead in the eye as he says, “the Foot Clan know where we live, how to get in, and probably way more than that. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

“I told you, I’m not the Chunin.”

“But were you in the past?” Pete asks, glaring at the turtle now. “Koya says that you don’t lie but you know how to be deceitful despite. She said that if you claim not to be the Chunin that you probably got a demotion or something. Which as I recall is what you said happened at your ‘night job’ with Lucky Fox Industries. Coincidence? And I can’t help but notice that Karai was leading this assassination mission and not the Chunin himself. Same height, same build. Don’t tell me you don’t have those similarities at least.”

“This is ridiculous!” Splinter roars. “My son is not a Foot ninja.”

“He is though,” Mikey says in a hush.

All eyes turn to him.

“He is. I—I know he is, as much as I wish he weren’t.” Mikey takes a deep breath before continuing. “There’s been several times where it seemed like Leo was working with the Foot. The biggest one was back at the precinct where we first saw Karai. He was giving her silent cues, like to watch out behind her before she was attacked. Leo is the Chunin. I’m positive of it.”

“Mikey why wouldn’t you say anything before?” Donnie asks.

Mikey hangs his head, sadness weighing him down.

“I didn’t want it to be true.”

“Leonardo?” Splinter asks.

Leo takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them again they’re pitch black and darkness quickly swallows the family whole, dragging them through an inky abyss until they land in Kitsune’s hidden chamber, devoid of light as midnight tendrils leap from her person and pierce each of them through the skulls, immobilizing them with dark magic.

“How long will this take?” Leo asks her, barely blinking at the sight.

“Not long. An hour at most to shadow their minds of the truth. Prepare the tea. It is crucial to heal their minds of the scars this magic will inevitably leave behind and assure the clouding remains strong and permanent,” Kitsune says.

“Yes, Mistress.” He glances briefly at Michelangelo. “You’ll have to put in a bit more care with Mikey. He seems to have seen a bit too much.”

“Understood, Chunin.”

“I’m not the Chunin anymore.”

He grabs a bright white tea bag from Kitsune’s mystic ingredients cupboard, right where it always is, and fills the kettle with water.

“You will always be the Chunin to me.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They drag the traitors in single file, hands bound behind them. One by one they’re forced to their knees in a line before him, each one whimpering with fear, a display of sheer cowardice. Pathetic.

“This all of ‘em?” Hun asks his new right hand.

“Yeah, boss. Every last rat.”

“Please! Hun, we didn’t mean anything by it. You’ve just been distracted with your kid lately. We just figured you wanted to step dow—”

Hun backhands the simpering coward across his ugly face then grips it tight in his hand as he forces the traitor to meet his eye.

“Don’t ever call my daughter a distraction again. Understood?” Hun says slowly.

“Yes, boss.”

“Oh, I’m your boss now. Funny. I recall you putting in your resignation from me, from my authority, from the Purple Dragons—”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorr—” a gunshot cuts both his sentence and his life short.

“—and from life.” Hun smirks as he brings the gun up to rest upon his shoulder. “Dumbass should’ve stayed silent. Would’ve lived at least a few more minutes. Long enough to hear my speech anyways.” Hun paces across the front of the room. “You know, back when I was a kid the Purple Dragons didn’t exist. There were the mainstays of New York. The Irish Mob, the 18
th
Street Gang, the Five Families, the Latin Kings, etcetera etcetera. Then when I was 13 I met a girl from Japan, Kumiko Suzuki. Used to be Suzuki Kumiko, in the Japanese tradition but her folks switched it around when they immigrated. Sweet gal. Wouldn’t know her family was operating a money laundering scheme out of their restaurant. She taught me stories from her homeland, stories about the great purple dragon of legend, the last of its kind, father to a whole generation of demigods. I was enthralled by the legend, thought it spoke of power and greatness, all things a poor kid from Bedstuy like myself could only dream of having, of being.

“Kumiko and I started dating. I was in love. One day some creep assaulted her and I sought revenge on the bastard, broke his face in. Didn’t know he was some gangbanger’s brother at the time. Didn’t realize until his crew showed up to kill me. They started to beat my ass but I survived and fought like hell to do so. You know what kept me fighting? You know what grounded me on this earthly plane?

“It wasn’t Kumiko, though she thought it was her I was fighting for, that I lived for her. But no. The thing that gave me the fire, that strength to keep going was the legend of the purple dragon. That was a beast who much like me was small for his kind. Looked down on and abandoned. Yet the dragon never let it keep him down. Instead of mourning the loss of a family who abandoned him for the stars, he got up and built a new one, a stronger one.

“So when the fight was over and the dust had settled, I had a lot of broken bones and bloodied nose, sure, but I was the last man standing. After a hospital stay that Kumiko’s parents paid for since my own ma couldn’t afford it, I got out to be greeted by the rest of the gang. I thought they were going to kill me but instead they grabbed me and brought me to their boss. He said he was impressed that I had beaten so many of his guys and challenged me. Said that if I beat him in a one on one fight that he’d concede the group to me to do with as I saw fit.

“You know what happened?” Hun stopped to look back at the traitors. “I won. I won and earned the name of Hun the conqueror, Hun the unstoppable. The gang bowed down to me and declared their loyalty. I was only 16 at the time and here they were, a bunch of seasoned thugs and adults practically worshipping me. I told them then that their gang whatever they were called at the time—I can’t remember the old name—was no more and in its place would rise a new gang. The Purple Dragons.

“I did that. Me. I conquered an entire gang all by my lonesome and you lowly pests thought you could take me on? And now you cower in fear of me, when you should’ve done so before. You beg for my mercy, for your worthless treacherous lives. But it’s easy to swear fealty in the face of death. You know what’s hard though?”

Hun shoots the first person in line point blank in the head to the screams of the rest.

“Trusting someone after they’ve already stabbed ya in the back.”

He goes down the line, one by one ending their lives and silencing their screams. Yet when the last one falls, someone still screams. He looks up to find his precious daughter Casey lurking in the doorway.

“Dammit! I told you boys I wanted her to stay outside!” Hun roars at his men before crossing the room to Casey with a gentle expression as he approaches her. “I’m sorry sweetie. You weren’t supposed to see this. How’s about we go out for pizza tonight?”

He pulls her into a hug as she whimpers in shock and... fear? Of him? No. He’s her father. She trusts him not to hurt her, even if she knows he does hurt people from time to time. A lot of the time.

#

Hob slumps over to the Mutanimals statue in Mutant Town with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge in hand. He stares at the graffiti on it for a moment, the rotted eggs and the word “TRAITORS” staring back at him in blood red letters. He plunks the bucket down on the ground and wets his sponge before he sets to work cleaning up the statue. He never cares when the birds shit on the thing but this... this hurts.

The sound of someone else dipping into the bucket behind him perks his ears at attention. He glances back to find Splinter wringing the excess water out of his own sponge before joining him in cleaning the stature. No words are spoken between them as they scrub the paint and grime off the figures of Hob, Sally, Ray, and Pete. Hob pays more attention to getting the muck out of the crevices on his friends’ figures than his own. Splinter notices this and gets the spot on Hob’s visage that he let pass him by.

“It is a very nice statue,” Splinter says.

“Hngh.”

“Do not let this get to you, Hob.”

Hob turns his back to the rat and re-wets his sponge.

“Yeah, well why shouldn’t I?”

“Because public opinion shifts as easily and as often as the breeze changes direction. The rest of Mutant Town may be displeased now but given time they will realize that you and our friends are not at fault for the EPF’s misdeeds.”

“Maybe fault isn’t the right word. Responsible? Yeah, I’m still responsible. Been responsible since I stood up for mutants and promised them I’d always protect them from exactly this. And what have I been doing the past few years? Lounging around, getting fat, enjoying the good life while turning a blind eye to the sufferings of my people.”

“Firstly, you are not fat. You merely have what I believe is called a ‘dad bod’. Second, you did not so much turn a blind eye as you did not see the trouble. It is only turning a blind eye when one purposefully ignores the pain of others. You were unaware therefore you cannot fault yourself for what happened.”

“Yeah?” a rotten tomato hits the back of Hob’s head. “Tell that to them.”

More rotted fruit and veggies are flung at them. Splinter leans his weight against the base of the statue so he can use his staff to swat the produce away from him and Hob. Their assailants? Angry mutants, some of which were held prisoner beneath Pundam, others who simply jumped on the bandwagon of blaming the Mutanimals for the plight of their fellow mutants. Splinter recognizes one from when he and his sons were new to Mutant Town and the mutant bear and his friends were singing the Mutanimals’ praises, literally.

Public opinion changes quickly indeed. Splinter’s own opinion on how to best handle this situation similarly changes as a second group of mutants brings over a second basket of rotted produce.

“Enough of this!” Splinter growls.

He adjusts his staff so instead of merely deflecting the fruits and vegetables, he instead bats them right back at the mutants. The bitter crowd flees under their own assault and Splinter flicks his staff at his side to shake loose most of the rotted vegetation.

“Are you alright, Hob?”

“Yeah,” Hob mutters as he wipes a rotted butternut squash off his face, “peachy.”

“Their anger will pass. Give it time, Hob.”

“That’s the thing though, Splints. Anger passes. Justified anger, the kind that’s born from injustice? That kind of anger don’t go away. It festers and grows like a zit. And then. Blam! It explodes.”

“The way you speak, one would think we were headed for another human-mutant war.”

Silence.

“You think the war will reignite?” Splinter asks.

“After a revelation like the one at Pundam? Absolutely. With the Foot growing more and more active in opposing the government and law enforcement? Honestly, I’m surprised the city’s not at war already just with the crime rates alone. Lord knows the Purple Dragons got into it just among their own people recently. Mark my words, Splints: this city is itching for a fight and the only question is who will each of us be siding with?”

“Each other of course. There is no one that we can count on more than family.”

“Heh. Family, right.”

“We are family. Though we have not always seen eye to eye, we are kin now. I see in you the spirit of an honorable warrior. The kind of man who protects those he cares about. Sooner or later the rest of the mutants will see that too.”

“Whatever you say, Splinter. Come on. There’s more work to be done down the street.”

#

Across Mutant Town, the boys are hanging banners for the upcoming festivities when the protestors rush by. A young skunk mutant tosses a tomato at the back of Leo’s head before running off. His brothers and Mondo look at him with trepidation, expecting him to go off on the assailant.

Leo merely wipes the rotted fruit off his head and returns to tying up his end of the banner.

“You’re not going to go after him?” Raphael asks.

“Not going to at least scream at them or make any overly harsh threats?” Donnie follows up.

“Why would I? Lashing out would be counterintuitive,” Leo says.

“How would lashing out this time be counterintuitive but most of the other times it’s not?” Mikey asks.

“Because in this instance there’s always a chance that they could be made into an ally.”

“That’s the spirit. Less viewing everyone as an enemy and more making them into friends, please. I like this mindset for you a lot better, Leo,” Donnie says.

“I didn’t say I wanted to make them a friend. I said an ally. There’s a difference.”

“What difference? Last I checked those two words were synonyms,” Mondo asks.

“Only to the ignorant or misinformed. A friend is someone you like. An ally is someone you tolerate in order to achieve the same goals.”

“What goals do you think that guy has in common with you then?” Mikey questions.

Leo shrugs, not answering. Mikey grows suspicious but can’t remember why he feels that way. Mondo sneaks up on Leo as he comes down from the ladder and dumps a bucket of glitter on him. Leo retaliates by grabbing a glue bottle and squeezing it in his direction. Mondo dodges and the glue hits Raph instead, inciting a decoration supplies fight that results in a heaping mess of glitter, glue, paint, and confetti... and distracts them from the Purple Dragon shooting tranquilizer darts at them.

Leo falls first, followed up by Donnie before the others take note of what’s happening and try to duck for cover to no avail. Mondo turns invisible to try and escape but a dart hits him in the neck as he scales a nearby wall to flee. The Purple Dragon takes off their infrared goggles in order to gather up the kids. She pulls out a walkie.

“Mutanimal brats secured. Proceed as planned.”

#

Hob and Splinter arrive at the street corner where the boys were supposed to be. Instead of finding the kids, however, they come across a pile of scattered supplies.

“Do you think they were attacked?” Splinter asks.

“That’s where your mind goes first? An attack? More likely they were goofing off and went inside to get cleaned up.” Hob bends down and picks up the remnants of a tomato. “Or they were attacked with rotten fruit like we were, and again, headed inside to clean up. Just because there’s a mess and they ain’t here don’t mean they’re in trouble.”

“No but we are all in trouble. You remember what Silver Sentry said about an impending attack by the Purple Dragons. We must remain on high alert.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Splints.”

Out of the corner of his good eye, Hob spots a woman in an alley with a purple dragon tattoo snaking down her left arm. She lifts a finger to her lips then points to Splinter, shaking her head before gesturing for Hob to follow her deeper into the alley.

“Uh, you head home and check on them. I’m sure they’re fine, but if you’re worried so much...”

Splinter appraises Hob’s body language and their surroundings before nodding.

“Alright. I shall let you know if I find them.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Hob waves him off before jogging to catch up with the Purple Dragon. He follows her from alley to street to alley again until they reach the edges of Mutant Town and a boarded up old shop that’s been out of business since the Mutant Revolution first began. The woman opens the door, gesturing for him to enter.

“Ladies first.”

She shakes her head.

“Boss wants to speak with you alone.”

Hob enters reluctantly, the door slamming shut behind him as he finds Hun sitting in an armchair in the dark and dusty room, carving a figure in a block of wood using his pocketknife.

“What’s this about? Splinter thinks something happened to the kids. Did it?”

“We took ‘em, yeah. Had to make sure you would come. Oh, don’t worry. They’re perfectly safe. Just knocked out with a tranquilizer.” Hun gestures to the chair opposite him. “Please, have a seat.”

“Heard a rumor you and your thugs were gonna attack Mutant Town today.” Hob shoves the chair over instead of sitting. “This your way of getting the enemy out of the picture?”

“Enemy? Hardly. Believe it or not, you and I? We’re on the same side.”

“Says the guy who attacked me and my people just about a month ago.”

“Apologies for that. Most of the reason for the attack was for the Purple Dragons to make their mark and get a foothold in the neighborhood for Ooze dealings. The rest of the reason, well, I won’t lie to you. It was entirely petty. Your kid’s friend April bested my little girl in a hockey match and I wanted to get a little payback.”

“You serious?” Hob hisses, absolutely seething. “All of that just because you couldn’t handle your daughter losing?”

“Again, it wasn’t the sole reason. Ooze is a profitable drug and I am a businessman. You can’t exactly blame me for wanting to advance my territory.”

“By highjacking mine? Yeah, I actually can. Thing you need to know about animals like myself is we can be highly territorial.”

Hob flexes his hands until his claws are showing, his ears reared back in a display of aggression.

“What species isn’t?” Hun shrugs. “Look, I didn’t invite you here to hammer out old squabbles. If it was we’d be here all day and then we’d both miss that little celebration of yours where you bend a knee to your real enemy and promise loyalty to the very people who locked your kind up for the crime of existing.”

Hob’s ears and claws relax in response to the surge of shame that courses through him at Hun’s words. Hun sets the wooden figure—a cat—down on the table beside him before rising to cross the room.

“Listen, you and I? We have the same enemies. The people on the supposed ‘right side of the law’ and the Foot Clan. One enemy wants you locked up and experimented on for the rest of your miserable life. The other wants to tame your people and make ‘em into living weapons who just follow orders like a good little pet. Me? I’d rather have a business partner seeing as how my old friend Fang stabbed me in the back. What do you say?” Hun extends a hand to Hob.

“You’re crazy. Just because you and I hate the same people don’t make us friends.”

“No. The fact that your own people hate your guts and you’re now being attacked on all fronts by enemies and allies alike, means that you are in desperate need of a friend. And I’m offering, in exchange for an alliance. You, the Mutanimals, heck all of Mutant Town really will have a standing alliance with the Purple Dragons. You’ll have full authority over the mutants with no question from me in opposition.

“You need someone to back your play if things go to war again, you’ll have it from the Purple Dragons. All I ask for in exchange is a little quid pro quo. We back your play. You back ours. You need a mutant broken out of the slammer? We’ll help out. We need a Dragon busted out of prison? You help us. Any profits made in conjunction with your people gets split and 90% profits of anything made in Mutant Town goes to you and yours. The 10% kickback is really more for any production costs than anything.

“So,” Hun says slowly, “do we have a deal?”

Hob considers Hun’s outstretched hand, wondering if it’s in as good faith as he’s pretending.

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch?” Hun seems to really consider this. “Oh there’s not really a catch. I did, however, almost forget to mention one little detail. Nothing big just a manner of securing our partnership and proving to every mutant out there that you won’t take the government’s actions lying down.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

Hun takes out a small pistol and hands it to Hob. Hob takes it in, analyzing every nook and cranny in the odd gun from its sleek metal exterior to the glowing nodule in the magazine. Definitely advanced technology. Hob raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Hun.

“Just a little something my boys lifted off a TCRI truck a couple weeks ago. One shot is like a mini-grenade. Aim it right and you can take out a dozen men with a single blow, like all those grandstanding politicians attending the festival today.”

“You want me to kill them?” Hob says, more observation than question.

“It would prove your loyalty to both me and your people in a single blow. I’d fire it myself. That mayor’s been leading the charge in cracking down on organized crime. Only problem is that security’ll be so tight I couldn’t get close enough. You though? You’re right front and center with the whole lot of ‘em. You’d have the shot and you could wipe out those two-faced snakes who vouch for mutant freedom while throwing you in cages.”

“By starting a war? Again? Don’t know about you, Hun but I sure as shit don’t want this city to go to war again. New York locked down by the EPF, people panicking and rioting left and right on both sides, everyone at each other’s throats. No thanks.”

Hun’s smile drops as Hob hands back the gun.

“So, no deal then?”

Hob flashes Hun a wicked grin.

#

The kids wake up in a dark room tied together in a huddle on the floor. Raph looks at the ropes and then immediately snaps them to bits with his Ooze-enhanced strength.

“When I get my hands on the punks who did this,” Raph mutters.

The door creaks open, startingly everyone into a fighting stance with Leo moving in front of the others to act as their shield. Hob steps into the room with a look of surprise on his face.

“Heh. Guess you didn’t need rescuing after all.” The teens all sigh in relief. “You kids okay?”

“We’re fine,” Donnie says. “How’d you find us?”

“Don’t matter. I took care of it. Now come on. We got some more work to do before the ceremony.”

“We should go after the Purple Dragons. I mean it has to be them, right? If this is part of their attack, then we gotta stop them.”

“No. We don’t. I told you, I already took care of it. Now trust me and get back to work.”

Hob ushers everyone out of the building but holds Leonardo back.

“Not you. Need to talk to you.”

“About what?” Leo asks.

“Ninja stuff.”

Leo raises a brow.

“What kind of ninja stuff?”

“The kind that Splints probably wouldn’t approve of,” Hob says. “Though something tells me you don’t have those same objections.”

“I’m listening.”

#

Four o’clock rolls around and the festivities begin. The mayor of New York City, Mateus Santalouco arrives in a town car followed by a limousine carrying President Thomas Waltz of the United States of America. They’re escorted to the stage by the Secret Service where they shake hands with Old Hob in front of a crowd of reporters and disgruntled mutants. Mayor Santalouco chuckles nervously at the insults hurled their way.

“A lot less friendly than last year’s turnout,” the mayor says.

“They’re just a bit miffed about the Pundam incident. But I can assure you, there’s no hard feelings here.” Hob turns to meet the president’s eye. “After all, not like you knew anything about that, right, Mr. President?”

President Waltz clears his throat.

“O-of course, Mr. Hob. Shall we get started?”

“Yeah, but first I thought I’d offer you guys some refreshments. My friend’s recently turned me onto this oolong tea that is just divine.”

Hob gestures to a porcelain teapot set up by the stage seats.

“That sounds lovely, Mr. Hob. My throat is parched,” President Waltz says.

“Sir, perhaps you should let us check the teapot for poison first? After all these... mutants... seem to be fairly hostile at the moment,” a Secret Service agent whispers in the president’s ear.

“Poison? Wouldn’t dream of it. Here, as a show of good faith, I’ll have the first cup.” Hob pours himself a cup of tea, his fingers resting under the tip of the handle.

Splinter takes note of this grip from the sidelines where he and the rest of the household wait. His brow furrows in concern.

“Everything alright, Sensei?” Donnie asks.

“I am... uncertain. It is probably nothing.”

The mayor requests a cup for himself, Hob once again pouring a cup with his fingers resting beneath the tip of the handle. When the president requests a cup, Hob adjusts his grip so that his fingers no longer rest in their previous spot before pouring the president a cup of oolong tea and handing it to him with a mischievous grin. Hob meets Splinter’s eye, his grin faltering into a brief look of shame before turning back to the crowd.

“I am more certain now, though, I hope dearly that I am wrong.”

“Welcome everyone to the fifth annual Revolution Day celebrations,” the mayor says at the podium, “where we celebrate the dawn of a new age.”

The crowd of mutants boo at him, causing the mayor to tug at his collar with anxiety.

“Yes, eight years ago today mutantkind was born and just three tumultuous years later a great peace between humans and mutants was achieved thanks in no small part to Mr. Hob and the Mighty Mutanimals.”

Mayor Santalouco gestures to Hob seated behind him. The crowd boos louder. The mayor clears his throat before continuing.

“Yes, peace was achieved and it is today that that very peace treaty gets renewed. Now before the signing I would like to give the floor to none other than the president of these United States, Mr. Thomas Waltz.”

President Waltz takes the podium while Mayor Santalouco takes his seat beside Old Hob. Secret Service agents have to push some of the crowd back from the stage as the president steps forward, the crowd surging as if to tear out the president’s throat.

“Yes, thank you, Mayor Santalouco for that introduction. Before we get to the good part, the renewal, I know that recently some things have come to light that have put this tentative peace between our species in jeopardy. Without my knowledge, the EPF rounded up your people and locked them in cages in direct violation of this treaty. No one was aware of this breach of trust, nor was anything able to be done about it soon enough. For that I am deeply sorry. It is why Mr. Hob and I worked out a new treaty, one which will provide greater protections to the mutant people the details of which Mr. Hob will explain himself. But know that I deeply regret my failure in protecting your rights in the past and will endeavor to be better in the future. Mr. Hob?”

Hob takes the podium and where the mayor and president received a litany of boos and jeers, Hob receives a cold silence.

“I’ll be straight with you. We’re angry. You, me, the Mutanimals. All of us, all mutants are downright furious at this injustice, just one among countless our people have suffered since we became mutants. Now as the president said, he and I worked out a new treaty that should keep all matters related to mutants above board from now on. Starting off,” Hob says in a slow drawl, “the Earth Protection Force is hereby abolished.”

That gets a positive reaction from the crowd as mutters go around, some in excitement, most in disbelief, but all nearing a cautious hope.

“No more will our kind have to live in fear of a black ops agency that seeks only to terrorize us and lock us in cages like base animals. Furthermore, all resources once belonging to the EPF are now being handed over to the Mighty Mutanimals. With these resources it is our goal to better protect our people by keeping tabs on each and every one of you so if someone gets grabbed by a rogue agent, we’ll know as soon as it happens and can come rescue ya. If someone’s threatening you, we’ll know who.”

As Hob explains this, the crowd starts to become less agitated and more at peace. Sally and the other Mutanimals are not so convinced.

“Is he serious? Did he really allow the president to write that in?” Sally asks in a hush. “He’s basically giving the government permission to spy on us and making us their version of Big Brother.”

“Don’t know if Hob sees it that way. Think he only cares about folks going missing without acknowledgement again,” Ray says.

“So what? We can’t just—”

“Be silent,” Splinter cuts her off.

Splinter quirks an ear in the direction of the stage.

“You don’t actually care about these changes, do you?” she asks him.

“No. I care about the sound beneath the voices. Can you not hear it?”

Sally trains her ears on the stage and listens, filtering out Hob’s speech as he hammers out the details of the new treaty and the crowd eating it up for God knows what reason. Then she hears it. The president’s heart.

“Now, before I give the podium back so we can sign this bad boy, I just want to remind every mutant here.” Hob raises a fist in solidarity with his people. “

Mutants simul, mutants in aeternum.

”

The crowd cheers the words right back at him. The president and mayor come over to join Hob at the podium with the new treaty, the president’s breaths shallow and his face pale. The three men sign on the dotted line and turn the podium over to President Waltz who clears his throat.

“My fellow Americans, this—this is a good—a great day for us all. I know my predecessor said this at the first signing but let me just say that I mean this, tru—truly when I say that this is the beginning of a new age. Uh, an era—an era of peace for our species and, and I hope with deepest sincerity that we can put this recent ugliness behind us and move forward... to—togeth—” President Thomas Waltz collapses onto the stage, clutching his chest.

The Secret Service rush forward, shoving everyone back as they collect the president and carry him over to the presidential limo for an emergency evacuation to the hospital. While the Secret Service and the press are focused on the president, Hob gives a subtle wink to the mutants in the audience who start cheering ‘

Mutants simul, mutants in aeternum

’ on repeat, causing an uproar with the press as they have questions such as ‘what happened to the president’ and ‘did the mutants kill the president’. Keep in mind the president has yet to be declared dead.

“Hob, what did you do?” Sally asks as their fearless leader steps off the stage.

Hob shrugs.

“Nothing. President just had a bad heart I guess.”

“Had. Past tense,” Splinter says with almost a growl.

Hob gives the rat a cold hard stare before shoving past him toward the Mutanimals’ vehicle.

“What are ya waiting for? Let’s go home,” Hob calls back over his shoulder.

#

“And it is with a heavy heart that I must report that President Thomas Waltz has passed away after suffering a heart attack mere hours ago. Despite theories by both the public and the police, there is no evidence to suggest foul play as the president’s tox screens all reported negative and the tea the president was given by Mutanimals leader Old Hob was shown to have no trace of poison. Further, Old Hob and Mayor Santalouco, both of whom drank from that same tea were reported to have suffered no similar ailments and are in perfect health. Secret Service has also admitted that President Waltz had been suffering from high blood pressure in recent months further highlighting the fact that Old Hob and the mutants are not—” a news reporter on TV says before Hob cuts the broadcast to the small screen in his study.

“Do they have to call me ‘Old’ Hob

every

time?”

“Hob,” Splinter says as he pokes his head into the room, “a moment, if you please?”

“Sure thing, Splints.”

Splinter enters the room carrying two seemingly identical teapots. Hob stiffens at the sight.

Splinter sets the teapots down before pulling a pair of cups out of his robes. He fills each cup—one from the left teapot, one from the right—before offering both cups to Hob. With both pots, Splinter’s fingers remain in the same position on both, not rested under the handle.

“Join me for some tea?” Splinter offers with a smile.

“Which one’s which?” Hob asks.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Splinter. You know what I mean.”

Splinter sets the cups down with a hard expression.

“So,” he says slowly, “you admit it. You assassinated the president of this country.”

“You gonna out me, Splints?”

Splinter takes a deep breath, exhaling through his teeth.

“No.”

“No?” Hob cocks his head to the side.

“No.” A moment passes. “Despite the fact that I disagree with your actions, outing them would be even more catastrophic than this. If it came out that you killed the president then you would be executed for your crime and you would be made a martyr by the mutant populace. There would be war once again and there would be no coming back from that.”

“So, you’ll keep it a secret then?”

“What were you thinking? Why this? Were you so desperate for approval from your peers that you would stoop to murder?”

Hob ignores him and brushes past him for the door.

“Is this the kind of example you wish to set for your sons?”

Hob, having opened the door halfway, closes the door with a light click before rolling his shoulders with a crack as he straightens up.

“You don’t know Mondo well if you think he’d have a problem with sum’n extreme like this,” Hob says in a low voice, back still turned to Splinter.

“And Raphael? Do you think he, with his warm heart, would approve of this when he could not even stomach his role in kidnapping the Jones girl?”

“What Red don’t know, won’t hurt ‘im.”

“And if I tell him?” Splinter asks slow and bitter.

A pause.

“You really that desperate to be top pop that you would get between us like that?”

Splinter slams him against the door, his forearm pushed up against the cat’s throat.

“You know that is not what this is about,” Splinter growls.

“You think I care?”

“You care about Raphael. You care about his opinion of you. Were you truly so blinded by vengeance that you let yourself forget that? Was it worth it to you to lose his respect in this manner?” Hob’s expression falters, ears falling back in shame. “Well? Was it?!”

Hob shoves Splinter away, face morphing back into anger.

“It is!” Hob shouts. “It is if it means he gets to grow up. It is if it means he gets to live without fear of some goddamned EPF agent busting down our door and locking him up. It’s worth it if it means he gets to have a real chance at life. Unlike the last one he had that was cut short because of your bad parenting.” Hob points at him accusatorily.

Splinter throws one of the teapots at him. Hob dodges it, letting it fly past his head and smash against the door. He spares it a brief glance before looking back at Splinter with an amused smirk.

“That the poison one?”

Splinter growls, tackling Hob through the doorway until they are both wrestling on the ground in the hall. Hob rolls them over until he has Splinter pinned, digging his knee into the weaker of Splinter’s bad legs. Splinter cries out in pain before grabbing Hob by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a headbutt. With Hob dazed and rearing back from the blow, Splinter reaches up with his tail, wrapping it around Hob’s throat to pull him off, flinging him back and away.

Splinter stumbles to his feet, using the wall to prop himself up. Hob reorients himself and hisses like a deranged alley cat. He pounces at Splinter only to be blocked by Ray who shoves him back as Sally does the same with Splinter.

“That’s enough!” Ray shouts.

“Do you know what he did?” Splinter screams.

“I can guess,” Sally says, exasperated. “Hob, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could get the president to agree to give us more power and then take him out so he can’t change his mind.”

“And whose idea was that?” Ray asks. “Mad as you were, Hob, it ain’t like you to jump to extremes this fast. Now someone put that shit in your head. So, who the hell was it?”

“Someone with the resources and manpower to back us up when shit gets real.”

“When? Not if?” Sally asks. “You sound like you want a war.”

“I don’t!”

“Then act like it,” Splinter growls before walking away.

#

At the Purple Dragons’ warehouse, Casey sits watching the news shift from reports about the president’s recent death to the even more recent theft of advanced weaponry from an EPF compound during a protest by the now unemployed EPF agents. Police were still unclear as to who committed the robbery, though the current suspect was the disgruntled agents. Casey knows better.

“Yo, Case! Got us some toys. Wanna check ‘em out?” Hun shouts out to his daughter as he enters the back room.

“No thanks, dad. You know I’m not interested in the ‘family business’.” She puts air quotes around the latter.

“Yeah, yeah, I know but still. Those EPF jerks had laser weapons. They even made a freakin’ lightsaber, Case. A real life lightsaber. You sure you don’t want to try it out?” Hun holds up the laser sword in question, its bright white beam illuminating the otherwise dark space as he swings it about gently.

“I’m more of a Trekkie to be honest.”

“And a lightsaber won’t save you,” a voice says from the shadows.

Hun grips the laser sword in both hands, ready for a fight as Casey leaps to her feet in alarm.

A bolo flings out from the dark, wrapping around Casey and knocking her to the ground.

“Casey!”

Hun moves to help his little girl only to be struck from behind with a sword—Leonardo's sword.

“I told you I would be back.”

Leo pulls the sword from Hun’s gut before slicing it across his throat and finishing the job by slicing him in half.

“DAD!” Casey cries out in anguish.

Leonardo sheathes his sword, a stone cold expression on his face as he meets Cassandra’s watery eyes before turning his back to her and walking away. By the time he’s gone, Casey has cut herself free of the bolo with her pocket knife and crawled over to her dad, now seemingly gone from this world. She sobs, slamming a fist against his still chest before resolve settles over her.

No. He would not die. Not today. Not like this.

Her gaze falls upon the raw Ooze canister in the corner of the room. Not wasting time she moves her father’s body so the two halves are all but connected once more and then races for the canister. She pops the lid off of it and reaches for an IV tube the Dragons normally use to process the raw material into the Ooze pellets. But she isn’t going to process it. She places one end of the IV in the canister and sucks on it to get the Ooze flowing before shoving the other end into the gaping cavity where her father’s jugular used to be.

She watches as the Ooze flows endlessly into his body, hoping, praying that this will work, that her father will live yet. He was always going on about how miraculous this stuff was and how potent the raw version was. Why shouldn’t it work.

“Come on, come on,” she says through gritted teeth.

When the last of the raw ooze settles into Hun’s body without a sign of life, Casey drops her face into her hands, wracked with sobs. A few horrible moments of grief pass when suddenly, Hun jolts upright, gasping for air and tearing the IV from his throat, coughing, veins bulging with that unnatural blue Ooze glow as his abdomen sews itself back together like it had never been cut to begin with.

“Dad!” Casey leaps up and wraps her arms around her father as he gets to his feet. “Dad, you’re alive! You’re—”

Hun shoves her away, causing her to fall onto the floor with a worried look upon her face.

“Dad?” she asks in a small voice.

Hun looks to his shaky hands before steadying them into a fist.

“That blasted,” he growls before throwing the nearest table across the room, smashing it to pieces as it slams against the cement wall.

“Dad? Dad are you okay?” Casey hesitantly reaches for her father only for her hand to be violently rejected as he smacks it away.

“Do I look okay to you?!” he screams, the volume scaring her so bad she stumbles and falls back once again. “That miserable, good for nothing, ninja just killed me!”

“B-But I—I saved you. You’re alive. You’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Hun takes a breath and looks down at himself, flexing his muscles. “Better than okay. I feel... stronger. More powerful.”

The pause that lingers chills the air.

“Good. With Hob and his goons agreeing to ally with us and promising us access to those government resources he’s got going on plus this newfound strength,” Hun slams both his fists through the concrete wall separating the back room from the main warehouse where the other Purple Dragons celebrate their big score with booze—one choking on it when they see Hun smash through concrete with his bare hands, “I’ll be unstoppable. It’s a new day, Case. The Purple Dragons are going to the top and there’s nothing those stinkin’ ninjas can do about it.” He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her a bit too roughly, a wild gleam in his eyes the likes of which she has never seen before. “Isn’t this great, Casey?”

“Uh, yeah, dad. Just great. But, listen, maybe we should get you to a—a doctor? Maybe make sure there aren’t any side effects—”

“Side effects? Like what? If I go to a doctor they’ll just try to flush this Ooze outta my system and then I’ll be weak. You don’t want your old man weak again, right, Case?”

Casey shrinks under his manic gaze.

“RIGHT?!” he roars, gripping her tight enough to leave bruises on her arms.

“No, dad. I—I don’t want you weak, but you don’t exactly seem like yourself so—” her last words are cut off by a harsh slap across the face.

“Don’t you doubt me,” he says in a low tone, his next words coming out slow and dripping with venom. “Heh,

no one

will doubt me ever again.”