Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Faster, feel the burn!”

“The only thing I’m feeling is complete and utter contempt for your entire puny species!!”

“Add more than 10 pounds to that barbell and we’ll talk about which species is stronger.”

“Count your days, Oroku Saki!”

Shredder chuckled. The bench press below him creaked every time Krang’s mechanized body pushed its arms up. Krang’s true body, tiny and beet red, laid in its stomach sputtering out shrill complaints, which Shredder swore could be heard all the way in New York City.

“Do you-do you know what kind of, what kind of training… I… I had to go through in my army…” Krang gasped through another movement, arms trembling underneath the strain, “…you stupid humans and your… you bungling…”
“Ah, the barrage of insults, right on cue.” Shredder smirked. He lazily checked the data pad in his hands for any word from Rocksteady and Bebop. He made sure to hold it close to his face, practicing his best impassive stare. “Truth be told, Krang, you have a knack for painting tapestries of insults. I dare say they’re sewn with gold threads of profanity.”

“Don’t annoy me, Shredder!”

“It’s cute” Shredder replied with a tone of endearment. “And besides, you’ve done exactly three reps. Stop complaining.”

“Don’t you tell me what I have and haven’t done you insolent ignoramus!!”

“It’s called spotting, Krang. Besides, you begged me to take time out of my busy morning so you could do this.”

“Your busy morning of watching cartoons, hm?!” Eyes ablaze with indignation, Krang thrust the bar onto its holding place. He laid inert for a few minutes. Then his body whirred violently as he sat up to meet Shredder’s gaze. “Besides, I didn’t say I liked it! Didn’t you notice how unusual this is for me?!”

Shredder hummed and let his smile peek through at the corners of his eyes. “Of course I did. Usually I’m the one on my back.”

Oh. Oh Krang didn’t like that. An accusing finger whirled toward him, stopping inches from his face. Shredder saw his own reflection in those rows of angry, impeccable teeth.

“Now is not the time for your childishness!! Go on, ask me why I decided to drag you in the Technodrome’s recreation room. Ask me why I’m using your infernal death machine!”

“You’re trying to stay in shape for me?”

Krang’s rage sunk into a mystified look. The shape of his eyes, the minute flick of his barbels, and-was that a slight blush? “Well, not exactly. I’m trying to build up my body’s endurance. I have a new modification I’d like to add to it.”

Okay, Shredder would bite. He walked over to the rest area and placed the data pad on a glass table. The room was so sleek and modern, with bright cream-orange colors and mid-century decoration, that it had become his favorite. Out of kindness, or perhaps investment in his combat prowess, Krang had furnished the room with all the latest in gym equipment. Most of it was from Earth, but some of it looked extradimensional. The only one out of those he’d tried was this funny treadmill-like device that turned off gravity. He’d gotten kind of excited when Krang decided to use the place as well, just to have him close while he practiced his martial arts, that he didn’t care much about Krang’s motives. It wasn’t exactly like the alien had any weight to lose.

An unintended yawn escaped from Shredder’s mouth, which deepened the scowl on Krang’s face. “There exists a microchip,” he began, “that would allow me to increase the strength and agility of my suit by tenfold. Before I install it, I thought I’d give the old thing a little extra horsepower. That way, I’d really be able to desecrate things out on the surface!”

“Ah. But, um,” Shredder felt a wave of heat meet his cheeks, “would that… how would that work?”

It got worse when he saw Krang’s face get patronizingly tender. “It’s basic multiplication, Shredder.”

He knew that, he was just testing him. “Never mind that. I have yet to hear back from Bebop and Rocksteady about the stakeout you sent them on.”

“Those cretins are still out there? How long does it take to get information on a store opening?!” The suit had lurched forward so suddenly Shredder thought Krang would fly out.

Shredder raised an eyebrow. “You’ve ,met those two, right?”

With one tentacle, Krang methodically stroked those little appendages below his chin. Shredder knew he’d be doing that for a good minute, so he removed his helmet, cape, and armor and went to work on the resistance bands. Though before he could really start feeling it, the robotic suit stood up and made its way slowly toward him. He figured he’d have some brilliant epiphany that would at first capture his attention, making him the overconfident villain he prided himself to be, but then somehow those stupid mutants would get in the way and he’d be sent running back to Krang with his tail between his legs. At least he usually got a nice bath and some fussing out of it. Ever since he caught the flu from that harlot Channel 6 reporter a few weeks back, he’d been craving the new tenderness it cultivated between him and Krang. It really came out when he was in a vulnerable state, such as being blemished by cuts, bruises, and alliterative insults that made no sense.

But, oddly enough, Krang didn’t have his usual zealous look in his eyes. He seemed more… exhausted. Shredder stopped his workout, watching the suit amble closer and closer.

“Krang?”

His voice was drier than before. “Aren’t you tired of this, Saki?”

Shredder twitched, the shock at Krang’s statement morphing quickly into concern. “Are… are you alright?”

This was never a question he’d needed to ask before. In response all he got was a sigh, indicative of mental and physical drain. He noticed where his hand was: on top of Krang’s. It must have jumped there upon instinct. Krang seemed to notice it too, and it made him relax a little.

“Krang, you know... if you’re-“

“I’m fine, dear. It’s just so hard being a villain sometimes. With those blasted turtles, you know.”

Shredder, partially relieved, smiled at him. “Oh, I know.”

Krang sat down again, this time on a wooden chair by the table, which buckled under his weight. It was designed for humans who didn’t weigh a metric ton in tungsten and steel, after all. “Is there anything in this show’s contract about a break? I’ll take one measly triumph. I mean, even Skeletor and Megatron pull one over on their enemies every now and then.”

“That reminds me, are we going to Destro’s wedding next month?”

“Stay on topic Shredder,” Krang barked, massaging his own temples with his robotic fingers, “I’m tired of explaining to everybody that we get beaten on the daily by children! They can’t even vote yet!”

Shredder stood beside Krang’s chair and rubbed his back the best he could. “Mhm, yeah. Dreadful stuff.”

“Are you even listening?!”

“Yes I’m listening.”

Taking that as an invitation, Krang and his suit both flopped backwards into his chair. He draped himself over it and put one tentacle to his forehead. “Oh Shredder, Shredder it’s simply awful. I’m going to pieces. I can’t survive in this state. Not as long as the turtles are out there galivanting around with their skateboards and their pizza and their street colloquialisms.”

Though futile, Shredder started massaging the shoulders of his suit. He knew he couldn’t feel it, but the gesture mattered more than anything. His voice dropped to a deep, deadpan tone. Krang started fanning himself with a How to Pirate Cybertronian Cable pamphlet Bebop had left on the table, worn out from his three movements on the bench press.

“I know, Krang. It’s just terrible.”

“They’re worse than the Neutrinos, that’s what they are. Absolute hoodlums. Complete disregard for my authority!”

“I know baby.”

After a brief silence, his hands were interrupted by Krang jolting suddenly in his compartment. Looking down in alarm, he saw Krang’s eyes had widened to a dinner plate’s size. The heavy frown smeared on his face just moments ago had contorted into a sharp, conniving grin. The corners of his mouth twitched, his lips curled over his teeth, giving him the mien of an insane man. Shredder watched his feelers move back and forth; they fluttered like seaweed under a strong current.

“I’ve got it…” Krang croaked so quietly it made Shredder uneasy. “I’ve got it I’ve got it I’ve got it I’ve-”

The alarm returned. “Krang…”

“Shut up and listen to me Saki.” Krang pulled Shredder close by the fabric of his clothes. His eyes were so wild it distracted him. He had a hiss in his voice, a breathy hiss that made it even harder to listen to what he was saying. “I’ve got just the thing to rid us of those animals once and for all. A way to free us, to place the world in the palms of our hands…”

Shredder loved him more than ever when he talked like that. He shifted down into a squat and looked him right in the eye. “I’m all ears, you handsome hunk of metal.”

Krang’s eyes darted to the comm screen, wired into the wall in case of emergencies. Shredder’s followed, not understanding. When Krang’s metallic hands activated it, Shredder’s rubbed his mask. It only hit him when he heard Krang’s voice boom over the speakers across the Technodrome, addressing not the foot bots, nor the rock soldiers, but someone else entirely. Someone much dearer to them both.

“Karai, pumpkin, come to the war room as soon as you’re able.”

Chapter Text

It hadn’t snowed in forever.

As the Party Wagon bounced along street after street, each of the turtles watched the blur of snowflakes by their windows. The late New York evening roared noisily around them as they made their way home from a successful patrol, glittering with more lights as the night awoke. The frost on the windows sent shudders through the brothers as they imagined the outside air. For cold-blooded creatures, winter kept coming too early, but if not for their new electric blankets and personal heaters, they would never see spring.

As usual, Michelangelo broke the contemplative silence. “Man, I dunno about you dudes, but I’ve got a serious case of the munchies!”

Leonardo turned up the heater. “What else is new, little brother?”

“He’s only got two settings,” said Rapheal, banking a turn onto the main road, “eat and complain.”

“Hey dude, I don’t come and- RAPHAEL!!!”

Rapheal’s foot slammed on the breaks, being met with a wall of taillights. Four pairs of hands gripped tightly on the closest thing to them, which for Donatello was unfortunately the hot coffee maker.

“For turtles’ sake Raphael! You can’t just-“ Leonardo’s words barely escaped his mouth when his brother leaned over the wheel and screamed.

“DAMMIT!!”

Everyone stopped and stared at him. It took a few seconds of Raphael laying on the horn and gritting his teeth before he noticed. With shaking hands, he sunk back into his seat and muttered words his brothers prayed they’d never hear again. He felt their eyes but said nothing, and after a minute everyone quickly opted to pretend it’d never happened.

Everyone, that is, except Michelangelo. “Woah, man. What was that?”

Visible sweat forming on his head, Raphael looked back sheepishly. “Uh, well, I… uh…”

Michelangelo’s eyes were wild. “What’s your major malfunction?! This is a kid’s show! You can’t say stuff like that! Not even Shredder says stuff like that!” He crawled over to the space behind Raphael’s seat, looking him over with a worried expression. “Are you, like, okay!?!”

“The… the traffic, and…”

“All in favor of Raphael not getting the keys for a while?” asked Donatello.

All four turtles, even Raphael, raised their hands.

“If I could be real for a second though,” Raphael said, “the fact that old Shred-head’s been so quiet lately is kinda bumming me out. I guess I’m just waiting for the next strike.”

Leonardo sighed. “Tell me about it. When we hit a dry spell like this it usually ends in a multi-part episode.”

Michelangelo gazed out the window. “Wonder if the Technondrome’s even colder than here.”

“Well it’s gotta be,” remarked Donatello while applying burn ointment, “The Artic’s warmest temperatures in early December start at negative 30 degrees. And that’s in Celsius.”

“Get serious dude, we don’t use that bogus metric system here!” His brother snapped back.

Raphael, having finished scrutinizing a funny bumper sticker, rested his arm on his seat and faced his brothers. He smiled the kind of smile that meant bad puns. “Well fellas, I sure hope Shredder’s… chilled out a little during his time off!”

Everyone groaned. Leonardo’s hand found the radio dial instantaneously, finding nothing but Christmas carols-but he’d take that over Raphael any day. The chatter filled the car space and soon everyone was humming along to Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.

“Ya know what’s strange?” Donatello asked after a while, waiting for someone to respond. After a minute or so of no response he raised his volume over the din. “I said you know what’s strange??”

Raphael stopped singing, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh for crying out-what is it Donatello?”

“I don’t think we’ve heard from April the entire day.”

“What’s so strange about that?” Leonardo chimed in.

“We’ve been hearing less and less of everybody, that’s what’s strange.”

“Everybody say ‘strange’ more” Raphael added flatly.

Leonardo tensed. “She said she’s been working on a big story somewhere out in the Midwest, remember? She’ll be back tomorrow evening. Besides, I’m sure everyone’s getting ready for the holidays.”

Michelangelo cocked his head. “Even the punk frogs? Do frogs even celebrate Christmas?”

“I think they’re more of a Hanukkah bunch” his brother snorted.

The cars around them crawled along the street. The snow, though, was starting to pick up, evidenced by bigger chunks of ice appearing on the road. The boys watched the way Raphael gripped the wheel just that little bit tighter. They were so close to a sideroad.

Leonardo touched his shoulder. “Want me to take over?”

“Oh yeah and have us all die of old age here in this cold? No thanks. And change the channel, will ‘ya?”

“Fine. Who likes political commentary?”

Michelangelo whined at the choice, then grabbed Donnie’s arm in realization, making his brother shout at the sudden touch. “Uh oh compadres! Did we get April a present?!”

Donatello whipped out the list he’d shown the turtles at least twenty times by now. “I told you that these ideas were the best matches for her based on her personality type and buying history! But of course, none of you listened to me, that’s evident now.”
Traffic now breaking, Raphael could finally shake off his tunnel vision. He reached back, snatched the list from Donnie’s hands, and handed the now slightly crumpled paper to his brother in blue. Leonardo studied it, trying to decipher the messy cursive. It was quite difficult to write with three fingers, after all.

“I…” He tried to word it in a way that delivered the least amount of criticism, “I don’t think April wants a home lab kit.”

Donatello blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, think about it this way. She works for a news station, lots of late nights, dangerous situations. Do you think she’d have time to experiment with the laws of science?”

He just kept looking at him, expression unchanging. “You make, the time, Leonardo.”

“She’s not a total geek, Donatello. She has hobbies that include not dying or permanently disfiguring herself” Raphael accelerated faster than anyone else would have liked.

Instinctively, Donatello gripped his seat. “And I’m sure she loves hack comedians telling the same stolen jokes over and over, huh?”

“Guys, c’mon. Where’s your holiday spirit?” Leonardo intervened.

“Maybe it blew up along with Don’s other lousy inventions.”

Michelangelo pursed his lips, only breathing easier when he saw a flyer for a takeout place on a passing building. Hiding the frantic, desperate look on his face the best he could, he shouted above the brewing argument. “H-Hey amigos, who’s up for some pizza before we head home? I never did solve my munchie predicament.”

Slowly, light returned to everyone’s eyes. Raph turned the wheel and stopped pressing Leonardo to change the music. The vehicle roared along the snow-drenched highway, pushing past it with ease while smaller cars around them struggled. Pulling out his favorite issue of Captain Cow, Michelangelo let himself relax into his seat. He and his brothers were tighter than anything, but man, when they were hungry…

Eggplant pizza with hot fudge and shrimp. Or maybe he’d be adventurous and try the new ramen sunny-side slice with olives in the crust. Either way, thank turtle-kind for Vinny’s.

***

The most difficult part of getting home was timing the pause between the rush of trains. The subways guarded the last passageway to home. Trains shot through the dark in cold streaks of starlight. When the four brothers stood at the edge of some part of the station, only a broken light to guide them, they curled their toes against the chilly tile and waited. That first leap as the trains’ bumpers rumbled past made them feel more alive than any battle. They became the shadow filling the space that headlights left behind. They became the water rushing under the city. Oftentimes, the sounds of their landings were muffled by the clatter of people and life moving past them. And in that same moment, it was over.

Sewers in New York were their own kind of breed. They were dark, damp, but inviting. They were sprawling, vast, and hungry. The turtles took a certain pride in knowing that only they knew this place completely. From the dripping grates out in the countryside to the gaping city storm drains, these sewers were as much a part of them as they a part of it. It was one thing, and they were all of it.

A single candle, glinting in the pitch black, revealed a wooden door with their clan symbol etched carefully into it. Home.

“Welcome, my sons. I trust you did not run into much trouble.” A warm voice wafted in the damp sewer air. The boys stopped in the doorway and bowed to their master.

“Just some… just some traffic.” Raphael choked out, willing to forget his slip of words in the car. He headed to the kitchen with Michelangelo, eager to start a pot of hot cocoa.

“Ah,” called Splinter, his voice smooth like chocolate, “the holiday season is quite something, isn’t it?”

Donatello plopped himself on the couch and propped up his feet. “Good thing we weren’t cold. Plenty ‘a heat in the car.” He repositioned one of the lair’s many heaters to better face him.

“Yeah you’d know, wouldn’t ‘ya?” replied Raphael. A kettle screamed for his attention.

Leonardo felt stress lines cut the scales on his face, so he pressed his webbed fingers to his forehead. They were so cold, and they felt good. “Please, guys. I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what?” Despite Splinter’s fur, the same lines presented themselves. “Did something happen?”

Donatello rubbed his eyes. “No, Sensei. Nothing happened. No villains either.”

Michelangelo poked his head out from behind the wall dividing the two rooms. Steam and gold light danced on his face. “And our efforts to get April’s Christmas gift have been most untriumphant.”

At this, Splinter only hummed in amusement. A special sparkle in his eyes told them what he struggled to say with words. With the soft way his claws held his staff, and that smiling gaze, he let them know that all was well. It put to rest the tightness in Donatello’s chest, melted the worry in Leonardo and Michelangelo’s faces, and cradled the hot frustration in Raphael’s gut.

“I’m aware, my students, that this is our first time celebrating such a holiday without the threat of my ancient enemy looming over us. I know how hard it must be to truly relax and enjoy it. Could it be, perhaps, that you are creating conflicts to divert your attention?” He went to hold Donatello’s shoulder, but Donatello grabbed his hand instead.

Leonardo slumped down on the couch next to them. “You know, I think you’re right Master. I think we are stressing about the wrong thing. I wish I’d-”

Crack.

Everything stopped.

Crrackk.

There it was again, a scraping sound somewhere far off.

Crrrrraaaaaccccckkkkkk.

Twelve silent fingers curled around their weapons. Splinter gripped his walking stick tighter than ever before. Immediately, all lights were dimmed and all burners switched off as the family slinked toward different paths of entry. By the boys’ rooms crouched Leonardo and Donatello, at the back entrance Michelangelo and Raphael stood ready. Their father, being the most skilled in combat, stationed himself nearest the sound-just outside the main door. The foreign noise had stopped. Outside, dirty pipes dripped filthy water. Sewage riffled down endless, unseen backways. Splinter’s ear twitched as he heard splash after splash of melted snow tumbling down ceiling grates. The metallic purr of distant pump controls pierced through the mute dampness. Something had to give; he could wait.

Leonardo could not. He felt his legs growing tired, and didn’t hear what his father heard, but he knew he had to match the silence. He felt the way the air changed around him, the way his neck tingled. Someone was there. The vibrations were stronger when he stepped into the open, and they pulled him toward the river of sludge. Stepping lightly, he unsheathed his katanas. He stood at the foot of the duct, watching the water sluggishly flow by.

A small mass interrupted its uniform flow, drawing Leonardo’s attention. He looked closer. Something glinted. Some scales and an eye.

Just then he heard his father’s voice behind him. “Leonardo! WAIT!!”

A monstrous form lunged out from underneath, a dark flash of claws and tails and teeth. Leonardo was thrown back all the way to the wall, and he heard all his brothers’ cries of action before everything went grainy for a moment.

Splinter and the turtles rushed out from the lair just to get hit with a tremendous wave of water. At least, they pretended it was water. Before their eyes the beast rose up two fists, ready to strike in a split second. Tracking their moves were two yellow eyes peering out from deep sockets. As he roared, his jaws gaped open to a terrifying size. His entire face lay stretched in a permanent grin, and the bloodlust in his glare made it fitting. He’d have looked more intimidating if he wasn’t wearing clothes fit for a crawfisher, but the ninjas really didn’t have time to criticize.

His voice boomed in an impressive echo, sounding more unnatural than normal. “Which onna you thought to wake up ol’ Leatherhead?!”

One sweep of his tail knocked everyone down. Rapheal sat up on the concrete, his head spinning. “What the-isn’t this where the theme song plays and we start winning?!”

Michelangelo sprung to his feet and held up his sensei. “Time out on the snark dude! Someone help out Leonardo!”

Donatello was already parrying the beast with his bow. “What’s going on?!” he shouted out between hits, “how did Leatherhead get here?!?!”

The feeling rushed back to Leonardo’s body. He opened his eyes and saw Leatherhead throwing his brothers like it was nothing. More animal than mutant, he thrashed around the sewers in a mad rage, kicking up dirt and brick. Michelangelo threw his grappling hook at his neck, missing just barely and catching a drainpipe behind him. Splinter lept to his feet and untangled it seconds before Leatherhead’s teeth closed over his tail.

Leonardo felt the hands of his brother hoist him off the ground. Raphael’s eyes met his, ablaze with a sarcasm that disguised his panic, “what now fearless leader?”

“If we don’t stop Leatherhead, he’ll destroy our lair!”

“And then it’s onto that big terrarium in the sky for us!”

“Not gonna happen guys!” Donatello had something in his hand and pressed buttons on it. From the way its soft glow emanated from him, the turtles presumed it was an improvised invention. “Sensei! Heads up!!”

Getting the hint, Splinter slammed the head of his staff on the crocodile’s snout. Temporarily stunned, Leatherhead staggered further into the water, and that’s when Donatello brought his arm back and hurled the device toward him with all his might. As his eyes opened, Leatherhead was hit with a flash of light so blinding that he fell back-first into the current. Using his staff as a springboard, Donatello lept toward a large wall of controls and turned a valve, which sent a wall of water crashing down on their enemy. The remaining turtles saw his claws holding onto the side of the canal, so they rushed toward him and smacked his hand free. Then, just as soon as he’d arrived, Leatherhead was sent down the raging river kicking and screaming.

“Mais la!” they heard him scream. His words slurred into unintelligible roars and washed away with the swelling tide.

The group collapsed on the ground and started breathing again. All eyes went to Donatello.

“Woah dude, what a mondo excellento display!” exclaimed Michelangelo.

“Truly, Donatello,” said Splinter, “today you’ve made me proud.”

Donatello beamed for only a moment, the rush of embarrassment turning his skin a slight pink. “Aw it was nothing guys, only a little flash grenade I whipped up for just such an occasion.”

“But how’d you know it’d work on that overgrown designer purse?” Raphael asked as he wrung the sewage out the tails of his mask.

“Simple. Always go for the eyes.”

“What I wanna know is what Leatherhead’s doing in New York!” Leonardo started pacing back and forth, alongside an equally worried Splinter.

Donatello sighed as he examined his broken staff. “True. I mean, a cold-blooded creep like him leaving his hibernation grounds in the middle of winter? To visit one of the coldest states of the season no less?”

“Besides, he almost managed to locate our lair.”

Splinter’s voice was grave. “It means someone else was behind this, my students.”

“Who do we know who could do something like this,” Leonardo mused, “and whose heart is so black that not even the Christmas spirit can stop them from committing crimes?”

Raphael scoffed. “Maybe it was a South Pole elf.”

“No no,” added Donatello, “he’s onto something. Only a certain type of villain could be so cruel as to steal a fellow reptile from their home, and use him to try and do us in!”

“It’s gotta be that no-good fly guy Baxter!” yelled Michelangelo.

“Maybe it was that Ogg fella. Boy wouldn’t that make for a lousy fanfiction!” Raphael laughed.

Splinter furrowed his brow. “Perhaps, my turtles, it is our old foe the Rat King?”

“No,” Leonardo chimed in, “none of them have the stomach to pull something like this off. What if it was…”

The brothers looked at each other, all four mouths agape in alarm.

“Shredder and Krang!!!”

Chapter Text

Back at the frigid Technodrome, the two villains waited. Their meeting place was a cone-shaped room with a low ceiling, with boilers and pipes protruding from the walls that pushed its occupants closer than they’d have liked. A large furnace lay in the back, occasionally shaking violently to interrupt all conversation. Above, too high to reach, framed paintings of Krang and bizarre weapons hung on the walls in a futile attempt to disguise the room’s original purpose. However, despite the decadence, it was still painfully apparent. Krang, ever refusing to admit his shortcomings, still called it the War Room. When asked about it, he muttered crossly about the old one being destroyed by a creature with a binomial name the human tongue was unable to pronounce.

Shredder’s eyebrows pointed down like arrows, his vision blurry from perspiration. He hoped Krang might see his displeasure rather than his discomfort. His raspy voice reached a decibel too loud, even for himself. “She’s not ready, Krang!”

“She’s ready.” His partner stated so matter-of-factly, it angered him even more.

Shredder stormed around the room in a mad fit, fists flailing above him. “This isn’t like with Bebop and Rocksteady, we can’t just throw her out into the city streets and hope for the best. I’m still training her, she’s not prepared for the disappointment of losing to those stupid shellbacks!”

Krang squinted, confusion dressing his face. “Who said anything about throwing her out? She’s ready. The fresh air would do her good.”

“B-but I’ve taken her on plenty of missions!” Shredder asserted.

Krang parked his android body in the nearest chair, smoothing out what passed for a brow ridge. “No, Shredder, you’ve taken her on errands. She’s been getting us fuel, parts, your antique vases. The most she’s done is stave off those bothersome Neutrinos. These are only milk runs, nothing worthy of her true skill. The one that you’ve cultivated, I might add.”

Shredder bristled at that last remark. “I can’t believe you’re even suggesting that she-”

Krang waved him away. “Oh you’re being hysterical. She’s probably tired of being cooped up in this stuffy Technodrome with me anyway.”

The short door at the room’s entrance swished upwards, interrupting the both of them.

The voice they’d been waiting for called sweetly from the doorway. “Don’t be silly, Krang. I’m quite fond of our afternoon Romcoms.”

Both villains turned to meet the gaze of a 5’3”, fifteen-year-old prodigy. Her hair hung in a short black bob with bangs that could slice. A bright red headband peeked out from underneath, one standard among Foot students, and trailed down to her middle back. The same splash of red tied her uniform together at the waist. Her uniform was the same violet with which Shredder adorned his cape. She’d insisted on it, demanded even, informing her uncle it was her favorite color. Metal glinted harsh lines on her arm gauntlets and the guards protecting her shins. She walked with a light air Shredder remembered from his own youth, unincumbered by the weight of duty or crushed ambition. She stood in front of himself and Krang, bowing respectfully and individually to both parties.

“It’s good to see you, Karai ” Shredder stated, relaxing his shoulders.

Karai’s dark eyes sparkled back at him. She smoothed the emblem of his clan, which was sewn into her clothing, and held her hand there. “Good to see you too, Uncle.”

“Look at that, so polite” Krang beamed. He nudged his partner with what little force he could muster. “You could take a page from her book, Saki.”

“Oh, shut up you blister brain.” Shredder thundered.

Karai watched with thinly veiled amusement as the two bickered. Twirling around in a circle, she searched for other subordinates and found none. “Where are those mutants?”

“They’re not needed for this, trust me” Krang replied.

“Are they injured from their last trip to the surface?” Karai asked.

“Not really, they’re just...” Krang grabbed Shredder by the fingers on his right hand. Evading his gauntlet’s sharp edges, he pulled his hand apart, swirling his index finger so it made a ‘cuckoo’ motion near the alien’s face “You know.”

“Hey-!”

“I see.” Then, the pensive look on Karai’s face dropped to alarm. Her fingers tightened into little balls filled with sweat. “Then why did you call me here? Did I do something wrong? I’m being punished, aren’t I? I should've listened to-”

Krang twitched for a second, blinking the question into his medulla. He quickly splayed out both tentacles from his android body, stopping her from rambling further.

“Absolutely not, pumpkin. Out of the question” Krang hurried. “Shredder informs me you’ve been doing exemplary in your... eh… whatever you ninjas do. In my eyes, you’ve even reached a point where you’re ready to take on more difficult challenges.”

Karai bowed again, her sigh deep and relieved. “I’ve… been trying my best. It’s an honor to study under you both. It would be even more of one to assist with anything you need.”

Shredder waved away all her nonsense with both hands. “Stand up, Karai. You know humility has no place in the Foot.”

He felt something wet hit the back of his shoulder. Not hard, but something he’d have to clean up later.

“Don’t talk to my Karai so harshly!!!” Krang squealed, “you want to undo all her progress?!”

“I only raised my voice a little!” Shredder insisted.

Krang wasn’t having it. He dug his fingers into the back of his android’s bald head, almost shouting. “You know as well as I that confidence is key for someone her age! You couldn’t be encouraging if your life depended on it!”

Shredder wheeled back around to face him, huffing at his insolence. “I was about to say that she’s been surpassing my expectations! She’s a natural!”

Krang pushed him aside. “Be quiet. I know that. She’s the most talented young lady in all the ten dimensions.” His hands rested on Karai’s shoulders, the mild look in his eyes reappearing. “And that’s why I need you, Karai, for this idea I’ve got going.”

“And the only thing you’re talented at is talking over me.” Shredder mumbled, trying not to chuckle at his own remark.

Krang shot him a look, indicating he’d heard that. Karai muffled a giggle in her small palms. As Krang’s body towered over her, she peered up at him with trusting eyes. Those eyes, speckled brown like his own, had no issue in studying every inch of his bizarre appearance. Krang’s mere presence made clear that Shredder and Karai were the aliens in the Technodrome, not him, but Shredder could never forget the first meeting between Krang and his niece. Unlike what he’d expected, there was no screaming, cowering, or ducking behind him. From the moment she saw him, Karai had this same look. To her, he was simply Krang, her uncle’s partner in crime.

“What do you need of me?” She asked again. Shredder felt horrible for getting off topic.

Krang’s hands roved excitedly over the map on the table before them, eager to show Karai each and every detail in his supposed master plan. His teeth protruded out of his grin, and every other word came out of his mouth in gurgles and burps. “I need you to show me what you’re capable of. Shredder and I have been talking, and we agree that it’s time.”

Shredder exhaled sharply, flicking his eyes upwards in protest. “We.”

“Yes Saki, we. Karai, listen here. You know how much those blasted mutants have interfered with my grand schemes. We need to be rid of them if we’re to conquer this place.”

Karai dipped an eyebrow. “True… I’ve, um, seen the footage from your battles.”

Both her uncles winced.

“Yes yes yes, the footage,” Krang continued, “they were mostly Saki’s failures you know. Anywho, I want back at them once and for all. There’s this microchip I need in order to upgrade my body, and I need you to keep those turtles busy while I procure it. With your part in my latest plan, we’ll not only be able to lift the Technodrome out of this accursed ice, we’ll be able to rule galaxies!”

“And then I can finally see Dimension X?”

Krang made a face, tentacles coiling endlessly around themselves. “Ehh… if that’s really what you want, my dear. I can’t help but wonder why you ask me so often.”

Karai rested her chin on her hands, gazing up at him, evidently begging for an invitation to speak. When Shredder cast an approving look, she beamed cautiously, locking her fingers together and twirling them.

“Well, it’s just,” she began, “your dimension fascinates me. The science is different. The physics are different.” Her hands loosened, voice growing in volume once a rush of excitement hit her. “I could learn much from your ways, become the most powerful fighter this planet has ever seen! I-I could even-”

“Karai.” Shredder started, putting his hands instinctively on her shoulders. “I want you to focus on your training first.”

She crossed her arms in a way that mirrored Shredder’s own pouting, mumbling to herself in a private stream of consciousness.

Shredder let go when he felt Krang’s touch again, this time both tentacles, on his forearm. His face tightened in irritation. He shoved his tongue between his teeth to keep from grinding them.

“Yoohoo, Shredder” Krang cooed.

Shredder grunted in response. “What.”

Krang’s eyes became slits. “Is there a reason you’re so fussy about this?”

“I… no.” Shredder jolted, offended at an accusation which was 100% true.

“You’re being quiet angry” Krang said.

“I am not” Shredder fired back.

“Oroku Saki.” Krang huffed. He sounded like his mother.

A loud crash cut off Shredder’s next thought. Karai, who’d evidently been continuing her train of thought from earlier, knocked one of his priceless swords off the wall, which made his body jump as he held back every instinct to punish. She stood in an eager fighting stance , zealously kicking her legs in the air and flailing about the room. The various charts and arsenal came crashing down in her wake. She had so much energy Shredder had no clue what to do with. Hence the training. Hence why she wasn’t ready.

Krang’s limbs twisted around his controls, his eye twitching and face struggling to hold a smile. “K-Karai, please…”

Karai snatched a Yari from a high up display case. Twirling it around her body, she poked and jabbed at imaginary things. Her footing was sure, her form excellent, but she kept ripping holes in Krang’s Utrominon banners. With the way his face contorted in discomfort, Shredder wondered if he should just let her. That’d show him.

“My first true mission!!! I will lead the Foot Clan with an iron fist! All will bow before me!” She bellowed, filling up the tiny space of that room with her voice. “None shall escape the power of my wrath!”

“That’s very nice, but we simply must focus-!” Krang started before she lept up on the table, knocking them both back.

“The city of New York will kneel at my feet! Then all of the world!!” She yelled.

“Watch it, missy,” Shredder growled, covering his head as the spear just barely tinked off his helmet, “We’ll be ruling the world. You’ll be destroying those wretched turtles and their master!” As she started to jump up and down in excitement, her uncles grabbed hold of her and forced her to sit.

“But, by myself? And that rat they call a sensei?” She exclaimed, half in disbelief. As she found a seat, her leg started bouncing. “…How will I be doing such a thing?”

“I-” Shredder stopped and kneeled down to Krang’s eyelevel. “How will she be doing that?”

Krang’s smile could cut glass. It was the same deranged one from that morning. “I’m so glad you asked, my dear Shredder. Follow me, you two.”

Wrestling the weapon from Karai’s hands, Krang’s suit picked her off the table and set her down. Both she and Shredder walked behind him as he strutted out the door, down the hall, down another hall, and through a corridor Shredder hadn’t seen before. For someone with a lumbering, frankly cumbersome android body, he walked fast. The three of them neared the door of a secure looking room. Shredder watched Krang punch in a set of digits into a keypad on the wall before a lock unclicked somewhere. A password? Why hadn’t he told him about it?

“Just in here, don’t dawdle” rang Krang’s thin voice.

It was far too bright in there. Dozens of work lights lay across the floor, all positioned toward something huge covered with a curtain. That something looked like an enormous cylinder of some kind, with a wall of controls sitting next to it. Tubes and conduits ran from the wall to its metal base at the bottom. It was all so prominent that Shredder initially failed to notice blueprints lining the walls beside him, most of which were notes on human anatomy. He scanned the room, the hidden invention, and scowled back at Krang.

“Krang…”

“Yes Shredder?”

“What the devil is this?.”

His partner scurried toward a lever and pulled it down, then reached for the thick cloth covering the room’s centerpiece. “Something I’ve been saving for a rainy day.”

The curtain slid off of what Shredder now saw was glass. The whole thing, as more of the cloth slid down, seemed like an empty vat of some kind.

A vat with wrist and ankle locks.

A vat with wrist and ankle locks, connected to an antenna.

An antenna with an opening in the ceiling just above it.

“Shredder, Karai…”

While Shredder drank this all in, running through all possible explanations, trying to ignore his growing queasiness, Karai watched with morbid curiosity. Krang gestured to his device. Pride swelled in his eyes, his mouth, and all throughout his pulsating body. He pressed a button, and the behemoth spasmed to a start. Electricity crackled at all the seams. One could barely hear Krang over the droning noise it made, but the pair still managed to discern his words.

The alien trembled with self-satisfaction. “…I’d like you to meet Protocol Shellshock.”

Chapter Text

A deep quiet filled the space between the three. Shredder turned toward Krang, stomach flopping like a fish.

“You don’t mean-” he started.

Krang ambled over to Karai, and his metal hands smoothed out stray hairs on her head. “Of course I do.”

Shredder tensed, jaw clenching. “You’re strapping her to a torture device.”

Krang only scoffed and flicked dust off Karai’s shoulder. “Not a torture device, but one that will accelerate her attainment of otherworldly powers. You told me she’d eventually achieve such abilities through meditation.”

“That takes years, Krang, not an afternoon. I-” Shredder’s eyes went back and forth from the chamber to Karai. They rested on Krang, who stood there as if nothing was wrong with this picture. His heart beat a little quicker, causing him to massage his sternum. “This could kill her, you know. This could actually kill her! It looks like something out of a science fiction flick!”

Krang, now by the chamber, spit a disgusting wad of mucus onto his robotic hand and started waxing the device’s candy grape colored finish. “Oh relax! I strap you to alien devices all the time and you’re rarely harmed!”

“It’s not me in there now!” Shredder steamed. He leaned in closer, his voice just above a whisper, “and we always have a codeword!”

Krang picked up a large book off of his workspace, slamming it into his partner’s chest.

Shredder grunted in discomfort, and upon reading the title made the same noise out of indignation. “The Kundalini and Electricity?”

Krang laughed derisively. “She’ll be fine, you worrywart. I began work on this months ago, as soon as she started living with us. There is virtually no margin of error.” He stopped, calculating his next words. “…Just to be sure, however, I want you to help her hone her new abilities as soon as she gets them. Preferably outside the Technodrome.”

“So you’ve been working on this for multiple months and neglected to tell me?” Shredder asked.

To this, Krang simply shrugged. “I didn’t wanna worry you.”

Two sets of footsteps thudded through the doorway, sending Shredder’s thoughts to a grinding halt. No one had to look to know whom they belonged to.

Karai voiced her acknowledgement, “Bebop, Rocksteady, where have you two idiots been? ” She growled, her tone a mimicry of her uncle’s.

Rocksteady watched the muscles under Krang’s eyes twitch and opted to stay silent.

Bebop gulped, examining the veins popping out on Shredder’s neck. “Well, we uh… wait, what did you say?”

Karai’s lips pursed. “I asked where you’d been.”

The mutants only laughed. “Oh! That!” Bebop plunged one finger into his ear canal and twisted back and forth.

Bebop snorted. “We was just playin’ in-er-cleanin’ the living room.”

Shredder raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have a living room.”

“Oh. Well, uh…” Bebop stammered. He clasped his hands together. “We don’t have one no more. Me an’ Rocksteady kinda… messed it up. With lasers. The laser guns.” Upon observing the silent rage already present on Shredder’s face, the mutant panicked. “But we’ll clean it up boss! Honest we will! We just wanna see what’s goin’ on here first.”

“Nice save, bro.” Rocksteady whispered at a volume everyone could hear. “Hey, what’s that?” He pointed to Krang’s invention.

The alien’s eyes almost rolled out of their sockets. “As if you’d understand.”

Karai looked up from reading the notes on his workbench, biting at her fingernails. “Well, I’m… um. I think I should know how it works.”

“This technology will harness the power of earth’s elements, transmuting your body into an unstoppable force of nature. With it, you’ll be able to provide a suitable diversion while Shredder and I obtain my microchip.” He then burst into a fit of laughter, “you’ve heard of electrifying ideas, well this one fulfills that concept by one hundred-fold!”

Shredder looked down and saw the sweaty impressions his grip left on Krang’s book. Esoteric nonsense, anyway. “What I don’t understand, Krang,” he started again, “is why you’re performing such a dangerous operation on a fifteen-year-old. Why not try out this experiment on Bebop, Rocksteady or myself?”

“You’re gunning for the god-like power, aren’t you,” Krang burbled, “no sale. She’ll need them when she inherits my trans-dimensional empire. Besides, she got me a better Christmas present.”

“You peeked?!” Karai yelped.

Something boiled over inside Shredder faster than he could contain it. His mutants lept to the side as he stormed toward the alien. An agitated finger pointed inches from Krang’s face. “The Foot will be her top priority, Krang! We have discussed this many times!!”

Bebop shifted his weight as he watched the scene, then slowly brought a finger to his chin. “Hey… wait.” He paused a little longer, scratching the side of his head. “I…I’m kind of getting the impression that we are being disregarded in this here scenario.”

Rocksteady thought for a long while, then shouted. “..H… Hey yeah!! How come she gets all the sweet stuff??? We’re the grown-ups here!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Karai murmured very, very quietly.

Rocksteady turned to Krang, Bebop nodding away furiously. “If I didn’t know betta, I’d say you liked her best!”

Krang looked at him for a long time. “Your powers of deduction amaze me, Rocksteady.”

“So, she isn’t your favorite?”

Krang seized him by the ears. “Why else do you think I send you two on the dangerous missions?!” With a wink toward his niece that read more like a loose eyelash, his voice got calmer again. “My baby deserves the very best.”

Karai pursed her lips. “I thank you, Krang. But are you sure I’m right for this?”

Krang was already starting up the main control switch, which stood directly next to the chamber. It had a glass door, double-paned, at the very front of it. Mutagen canisters covered the exterior on either side, nosily pumping away. Shredder closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Together, he and Krang had carried the Technodrome across dimensions. They’d saved each other from threats like the turtles or Lord Dregg. Nothing could come between them for long, not even a disregard for the other’s feelings. This new doubt made him feel sick.

“You’ll be fine. I know this may be-” Krang trailed off and thumbed through some notes. Everyone waited breathlessly for him to start talking again. He flipped a few switches, checked a weather chart on the wall, then walked over to the chamber and turned a valve, which released the pressurized door.

Mechanized body whirring rapidly, he beckoned his hand. “Step inside, my dear.”

As Karai plodded over, Shredder’s arm felt Krang’s cold fingers again. They jerked him to the side, by the corner where his mutants stood, indifferent to their presence.

“She’ll be fine, Saki. I promise” he assured.

Shredder looked down at the ground and waved his hand to give the go ahead. There was no turning back from this moment, he knew that deep down.

Satisfied, Krang diverted his full attention to Karai. “Put your wrists in there, pumpkin, right there. No, right th-splendid. I’ll start the countdown.”

Karai swayed distractedly, bouncing whichever leg wasn’t supporting her weight. This was hard to do in restraints, of course.

Krang patted her arm then closed the glass door. “While I do this, try to imagine yourself in your meditative state. Imagine energy coiling at the base of your spine, rising as the energy levels grow higher. Can you do that?”

Karai nodded furiously. “I… think so.”

“Good. Excellent. Now remember to relax.”

“Um, Krang,” Rocksteady interrupted, watching his boss place tiny brain-sized goggles on his face with a satisfying smack, “how’re you gonna get a power source? The Technodrome’s bone dry.”

Krang’s eyes sparkled hungrily, a reflection of his immense pleasure at his own genius. “There’s quite the storm outside today.”

“Yeah but-”

“Shh shh,” Krang hissed, “I need full concentration. All of you, quiet!”

“Yes your eminence” Shredder jeered. Krang snapped his fingers inches from his nose.

After a quick nod from Krang, Karai scrunched her face and started mumbling Japanese mantras. Shredder stood as close as he could to the chamber door, which vibrated softly. He saw the ceiling open just above the device’s antenna, and with a press of a button the rod rose out from the Technodrome. Swirling gusts of wind flooded the lab through the opening, causing everyone to shield their eyes. Shredder watched the outside and realized just what kind of a storm was out there. Lightning jostled the sky above them as thunder shook the icy wastes. Clouds swirled around above them, thick and black. He now grasped exactly what Krang meant by his earlier cryptic answer.

“Krang!” Shredder wheeled around, forcing himself to shout above the din, “you’re really going to use this thing as a conducting unit?! You’re insane!!!”

“What?!” Krang shouted back.

“I said you’re insane!!!”

“You moron! I know I’m a brain!”

Karai’s small voice pierced through their shouting. Eyes still shut; she bent her head downward in order to concentrate, but her form was already losing rigidity. Before Shredder had a chance to do anything, something hit the antenna. He felt a quake of energy rock the chamber. The glass against his fingers fluttered and buzzed on his skin, raising the hair on his arms. The Technodrome shuddered, throwing its occupants to the floor. Lights quivered off and on, and the mutagen inside the device glowed more intensely than Shredder ever thought mutagen could. Lightning had struck the top, and it traveled down the vat and through the restrains. One look at Karai’s face and he knew; it hit her faster than the naked eye could track. All he saw now were her nerves and bones rattling in the aftershocks, scrambling to feign composure. She repeated her words, faster, her voice crackling in either terror or pain.

Another surge of heat and light burst down from the sky, this time hotter. It lit the inside of the chamber so bright Shredder had to squint.

“Karai-!” He yelled.

Another bolt hit her frail body like a hammer. Tears bubbled out under her closed eyelids. Her fists, the little white balls they now were, clenched her palms so hard that red trickled down. She screamed. The sound of pure energy rushing through muffled it, but it still sent cracks spidering on the glass. It was here that Shredder realized he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

With one fluid motion he dashed toward Krang’s control panel and body-slammed the emergency stop button. He didn’t have to guess which one it was-Krang always picked magenta. The rod retracted, immediately dissipating all energy in the chamber. The room went white, then yellow, then fell into a silence stronger than the previous din. Shredder turned to meet the wild, crazed eyes of the Utrom he’d just defied.

Instead of speaking Krang just stood there for a moment, heaving and purple. Shredder stared him down, brows knitted, daring him to speak. Leftover electrical energy fizzed along his body. Krang brought up his hand, actually startling Shredder for a microsecond, before slamming it down on the table beside them. More silence.

Shredder spoke first. “It was too much.”

Nothing. The muscles around Krang’s lips strained with tension.

“She can’t take that level of pain, Krang.” He said again, eyes wandering to the alien’s notes, then a screen showing her vitals. “You didn’t say it would-”

“You would… dare tell me what she can and can’t handle?” Krang finally replied, no louder than a whisper.

In surprise, Shredder laughed. “And I’m supposed to believe she could survive that?”

“Uh, boss?” One of the mutants interjected, possibly Bebop from the faint snort. Both parties shot a hand up, refusing to break eye contact with each other.

“You have your strengths and I have mine, Shredder,” Krang growled, “and I knew she’d be safe. You expected progress to be painless?”

“I expected you to treat her humanely.”

“Boss…”

Krang pressed his finger hard into Shredder’s chest. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Now, because of you, I’m going to have to decontaminate the chamber and run the experiment all over again!”

“Touch me again and I’ll-”

“BOSS!!!”

Hearing the combined voices of both mutants sent Shredder over the edge. He stormed toward them with fists raised, his volume so loud it probably broke something.

“WHAT IS IT YOU INCOMPETANT DOLTS?!”

“Is she… supposed to be glowing?”

He only noticed it after they said something. A cold light from somewhere below cut out shapes on their faces. Shredder followed the glimmer to its source and found Karai in the wreckage. She stood in the smokey haze, her clothes black and burnt. Soot coated her face and hair, and her nice new Foot emblem lay scorched at her feet. Shaking at the knees, she staggered her way out of the chamber. Shredder tried his best to ignore her glass cuts and the bloody welts on her wrists. She reached forward a hand, attempting to steady her wavering steps. Upon seeing her eyes, glazed over and lost, his heart plummeted. Just as she stepped forward she tripped, and that’s when he caught her. And that’s when a painful shock racked through his body.

“Ahh-!” His hands slipped loose.

Krang’s body reacted just in time, snatching Karai just before her skull could crack open on the floor. Shredder landed with a thud on his back, cursing. He heard alarms wail inside Krang’s suit, the red and yellow lights pulsing wildly near his chest reflected off of Karai’s face as she buried herself in his arms.

“Karai… sweetie… are you okay?” The fear Krang had kept so well hidden finally wove its way into his voice.

Ignoring Bebop and Rocksteady’s attempts to stand him up, Shredder crawled back toward them, his thoughts half-coherent and melding together. “Krang..! Is she-are you? What’s that?”

It didn’t matter that his words made no sense, Krang well understood the language of panic. His face assumed a neutral look and erased all lines of stress. He locked eyes with Shredder, calm and collected. “She’s breathing. Just dazed. I didn’t design my suit to withstand such a powerful electric current. An oversight, quite an inconvenient one at that.”

To verify his claim Shredder reached out his hand, getting the tips of his nails as close as possible. Sure enough, when they grazed the fabric of her uniform, he felt a loud and buzzing sting. Karai assumed a fetal position, pressing her face against the cold metal of Krang’s lap. Breathing raggedly, eyes bloodshot and tired, she stared ahead at nothing and only broke her trance when Shredder had tried to touch her. Every sound and sensation made her flinch and curl into a tighter ball.

Krang watched Shredder retract his arm. “You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“What exactly does it mean, Krang?” He barked.

Their eyes met again. This time, all guise of pretension, ego, or general air of superiority were gone. All that remained was a soft look in his lavender eyes, suspiciously like relief. His mouth cracked open into a small smile. “It means it worked. Phase one is complete.”

The alien took Karai by the hand. Her small palm practically disappeared under his, and electricity fizzled out underneath his arm. She looked up at both him and Shredder and started breathing a little easier. Shredder, despite his anger, couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the soft crackle dancing along her limbs and armor.

“We’ve done it.” Krang said, grinning from ear to nonexistent ear. He patted the top of her head and kissed it. “We’ve done it, Saki.”

*****

April O’Neil woke up with a crick in her neck. It spread all the way to her shoulders. The curse of long plane rides, especially frequent ones, but every reporter drawing a consistent salary knew better than to complain. She stretched her arms, the only things with room enough to stretch, and moved her legs out from under the seat. Despite all this, this budget airline wasn’t getting any less cramped.

Sighing quietly so as not to wake the snoring tourist sharing her armrest, she rolled up the window cover on her left and peeked outside. She had to be in New York now, though the white sky looked the same there as it did back in Omaha. Still, it couldn’t be long now. Excitement lept in her stomach when she pictured the warm welcome awaiting her back home. She couldn’t wait any longer to get back to her own bed, watch her own tv, and take a hot bath in her own bathroom. She smiled and thought of the turtles; they’d probably call for some sort of pizza-catered celebration. She thought of her friends at work, ones like Irma and, reluctantly, Vernon.

The plane descended to a stop before she’d realized it. People started getting up, talking and laughing and yelling at each other. She decided to wait until most of them got their luggage before braving the rapids. She felt a ping in her pocket. She felt around for the vibration and discovered it was her turtle comm. She squinted at the message, deducing from the precise grammar and punctuation that Donatello was the sender. She stood up when she read the message, barely saving herself from tripping over the seat.
“Weird readings?” April said aloud. “In the Artic?”

Chapter Text

In a tucked away lab on the South side of town, several computers droned on and on and on. Takeout boxes teetered beside them, threatening to topple down on the delicate circuitry. Around the area, graphs and charts hung like trophies on the white walls. The lights on the ceiling glared down oppressively upon April O’Neil as she fought off sleep in her chair. The sharp plastic spine made her form too rigid to cross her legs or lean back. It had been about four hours since Donatello sent her his cryptic message.

The man at the desk in front of her was a scientist she’d met at a convention, a reputable professor from some inner-city university. His white beard and silvery hands displayed his years of work. He stood about 5 feet from her at all times, pretending to check notes or yawn obnoxiously, anything to avoid small talk. She watched him like a hunter in tall grass, noting every ministration in the back of her mind. What little he said, he said with a tone drier than Michelangelo's special burnt crust pizza.

Finally, as the clock struck at the hour, he broke the silence. “Ms. O’Neil, it’s been hours. I honestly don’t know what you expect me to find. I assure you, this weather activity is quite normal around this time of year. Winters bring drastic shifts in-”

April shot up, pointing an accusing finger. “Don’t tell me the weather’s just changing. You don’t think I know half the earth gets colder and stormier around Christmas? What I want to know is why the temperatures all over have been fluctuating to the point where alligators are coming all the way from Florida!”

The professor opened his mouth, then paused. “I… heard your story. Are you sure you saw what you think you saw?”

April stared him down, doing her best impression of Raphael’s surliest face. “I’m pretty damn sure. It’s kinda my job.”

The man turned awkwardly to the monitor beside him, his embarrassment evident. “I… see. I have heard about the unusually warm climate in…”

He stopped and stared at a piece of data, drawing in a short breath. Rapidly, he began thumbing through the pages he’d left sprawled out on the desk. “What if…” he trailed off before he finished, leaving April as he delved into a private world of calculations.

She turned to kick her chair when the door to the hall creaked open. A warm air swept into the room, carrying even warmer coffee. Irma Langenstein, with her mocha brown hair tied up in a loose knot, sauntered in cheerily, her long skirt swishing with the plum-colored elegance of a betta fish. Her glasses sat prettily on the bridge of her nose, catching the light and holding it in her eyes. With her here, April could at last breathe out.

She set her drink carrier on the lab’s widest table. Steam curled around the three lids like soft fingers. She looked April up and down, clicking her tongue in apparent pity. “I thought you’d like a cup of ambition. Or two. I bought one too many.”

“I’ve been awake all night, you know.” The professor grunted.

April rolled her eyes. “Irma, this is Professor McMartin. He’s helping me figure what’s happening.”

Irma raised an eyebrow. “That crazy croc swam all the way from Florida just to chomp those boys in half. What’s the mystery?”

“Irma please” April laughed.

The professor sighed quietly, once again busying himself with his research. The women sat down and sipped on their coffee, silently eyeing the differing instruments littering the workspaces. April noticed Irma watching the professor in particular and trying not to snicker at his frantic study of the datasheets.

Irma watched as the man turned completely around, then spoke to April in a low whisper. “So once again I’m catching up. The turtles think Shredder’s behind this?”

April, the slightly taller one of the two, bent to her eyelevel. “Yeah, but I don’t know how. You’ve seen how many freak weather patterns I’ve reported this week. What kind of device could cause such changes? And how long do we have before Shredder attempts to take over the world because of it?”

“Not to mention that the whole thing’s a plan he’s already tried” Irma grunted. “He’s losing his touch.”

“Irma, that creep never had it to begin with” April giggled.

“Yeah, shame a guy that cute could be such a murderous psychopath. He’s like my last date” Irma mused, sipping her drink.

April’s expression sank. “That guy I set you up with? What was wrong with him?”

“Ugh, April. You don’t wanna know,” her friend said rubbing her temples, “he thought it’d be a good idea to ask me to double with his ex.”

“Not my curator friend! He’s usually such a gentleman!” April gasped, a surge of rage flashing through her.

Irma nodded tiredly. “I guess I have a touch. Oh, well, I’m through with men for a bit. I’m going cold turkey.”

April gazed somberly at her best friend’s face, exhausted from the horrible treatment she was so used to. She felt waves of intense emotions ebb and flow deep inside her, all violent and sickening. In the same moment she wanted to cry, squeeze something so hard it broke, and punch a hole through the man who’d wronged her. This was hardly new, around Irma her emotions were never quiet, and she knew it was because their friendship, forged initially from the survival instinct for companionship every working woman knows, had grown into one tempered by the years and shared near-death experiences. Irma was someone April wondered how she’d ever gone on without her. She was a confidante, a muse, and a sister. April’s only complaint was her wish that there was something even more profound another woman could possibly be. If it existed, Irma was that and more. She was everything.

“Oh, Irma. It’ll be alright. There’s someone for you out there” April cooed, squeezing her wrist. “You just can’t give up.”

Irma only laughed, shaking her head. “Look at me, making the conversation all about my love life. What does Splinter say about all this craziness?”

April felt a loss as the conversation shifted, but couldn’t pinpoint it. “He’s… hard to read. Been in a meditative state ever since the attack on the lair, barely eats or sleeps. I’m worried about him.”

“Gee, me too” Irma scrunched her face. “Whenever he gets that serious something really bad happens.”

The pair jumped as the professor yawned. He grabbed the last cup, groaning again before casting a brief glance at them. He continued his work.

Irma watched him, then looked back. “I wonder if it has something to do with their alien friends, like the Neutrinos. Or maybe it’s just a freak one-off thing.”

“I’m not sure,” April mused, “stuff like this doesn’t just happen. Not unless there’s a villain involved.”

“That’s why Donatello sent you, right?” Irma asked.

“That and I need to get his dry cleaning. He got some strange readings from the North Pole, but won’t tell me anything.” April replied.

Her friend only stared back. “Well if that Technodrome boys club is behind this, why haven’t you been kidnapped yet?”

April fell silent and shot Irma a glare, who upon realizing why only muffled a laugh in her hand.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Irma leaned in closer, speaking in the softest whisper she could. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine.”

April’s noticed Irma’s hand was resting on her knee. The friendly gesture made her jolt nervously and lock her eyes on the professor.

“Ms. O’Neil, I think I have an answer for you.” He said, turning around.

Irma reached over to her coffee. A draft brushed across the empty space her hand left.

“You told me to study the seismic activity over the past few days,” the professor began, “but I’ve concluded we should be searching elsewhere. Just look at this.”

Handing the reporter a paper, the professor pointed out an interesting graph with a line spiking upward. April and Irma looked to each other for the meaning.

The man clicked his tongue. “The data regarding the core remains the same as ever. But the earth’s geomagnetic field, however, has fluctuated wildly this past week. That could explain absolutely everything!”

“So that attack was something more than coincidence!” April muttered.

“The source of the disturbance does seem to originate from the Artic circle. It accounts for all the dramatic changes in the earth’s weather. This is…” he stopped and examined the paper closer, his face tinged with anxiety, “this is extremely worrisome. Why hasn’t anyone noticed this?”

Relieved they’d reached a conclusion after so many hours, April hastily grabbed the chart out of his hands. “Sorry professor, I need to show this to a friend!” Without a second thought, she took Irma by the wrist and raced toward the entrance to the lab in such a haste that she forgot her drink.

The professor, bewildered at first, followed her to the front door. “You don’t understand! It’s almost like it’s electr-” he shouted, just before he was cut off.

The cacophony of sounds outside drowned him out. April pushed past the rotating doors and stopped on the sidewalk as a bolt of lightning ripped through the lab’s portico. It struck the ground just inches from her face, singing off the front ends of her hair. In this moment she heard the raw electricity hum in her ears. Irma pulled her back, knocking both women to the ground, chunks of asphalt scraping against them.

April could do nothing but sit as the aftershocks of panic and adrenaline racked through her. Her chest heaved as her eyes adjusted and put things back in focus. The only sensation she felt in her body was the cold sweat on Irma’s hand, still tightly interlocked with hers. She looked over and observed the panic frozen on her friend’s face as she looked out at nothing.

“Irma…” she croaked, her words left unheard.

The professor bolted out of the building, now partially in ruins. “Good lord!” he screamed as he helped the two up and pointed to the street.

The sky swirled above them with colorful storm clouds, scattering lightning across the unsuspecting neighborhood. People belligerently ran from their places of work as it struck lampposts and windows. Boiling glass flooded the road, causing cars to swerve madly. Wind bent trees like rubber, and the static in the air set them off like matches. A white-hot bolt ripped through the next-door pawn shop, flinging concrete everywhere. April, Irma, and the professor all squished into the lab building’s doorframe.

“April! Are you okay???” Irma asked, trying to shout over the screaming.

April pinched herself, then reached for her turtle comm. She watched the screen boot up and flash for a second before succumbing to static. Calling for help was useless, and there wasn’t time to find a way.

“Yeah, but we better get outta here!” She turned toward the sidewalk, scanning the gutters until she found a large runoff grate. “Follow me,” she said, running toward it, “we’ll meet the turtles at the lair!”

“Does this mean I’m helping you now?” Irma asked, excitement momentarily crushing her terror.

The ground shook as it absorbed another impact, almost tripping April. She reached for Irma instinctively and used that momentum to push her toward the grate. “You don’t really have a choice now. If someone really is behind this, we’ll need to stick together!”

Irma nodded, holding back frightened tears. The two women moved to lift the grate covering.

Just down the street, around the corner, Rocksteady tumbled out of his transport module’s chrome doors. He landed with a hard thud on the concrete, sending Bebop into a snorting fit of laughter. He picked himself up and brushed off his shirt, just for a thunderbolt to strike the module and send him tumbling back down. Bebop too was launched from the doors, landing in a store window much to Rocksteady’s delight.

“Haw haw haw, now look who’s laughin’!” Rocksteady chortled.

“Shut it, stupid!” Bebop bellowed, picking glass out of his shirt.

The two stood up, each fighting to pull the other down, until Rocksteady looked at the carnage littering the city all the way to the horizon. What wasn’t on fire was either being looted, boarded up, or doused by firetrucks.

He scratched his head. “Wow, I guess Krang was right ‘bout there bein’ a buncha electrical discharge in the city.”

“Yeah,” Bebop replied, “I wish he didn’t make us wear these stupid rubber getups doh. Now come on, da boss wants us to lay these traps in case those shellbacks come along.”

Rocksteady caught the device Bebop tossed to him, noting how small and circular it was, a puzzled look crossing over him. Bebop rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t like Rocksteady could tell.

“Bro, remember what Mista Shredder said. Thinkin’ makes our brains hurt.”

“But what’s this supposda do? Don’t we have Karai for-”

A familiar flash of tacky yellow jumpsuit made him stop in his tracks. The mutant blinked to see if he’d dreamt it. Sure enough, April O’Neil ran across the street nearest them, pulling that secretary from her work along with her. Rocksteady punched Bebop in the arm to get his attention.

“Ouch! Whatdya do that for?!” his friend roared and clenched his fist, “Why I oughta-”

“Shut up and look over there! That April chick’s making for the sewers!”

“So?!”

“So we gotta stop her from reachin’ the toitles!”

Bebop craned his neck, raising his shades to get a better look. He smiled, then reached for the gun strapped on his back. “You’re right bro. Let’s give Shredder the present of the year!”

April didn’t hear their approaching footsteps; her attention lay on her burning calves as she lifted this stupid grate. She glanced across and noticed Irma buckling under the weight a little, sweating even more than herself. Trying to forego her abject fear, she smiled reassuredly.

“After this Irma, promise me you’ll start a gym membership with me” she wheezed.

“Absolutely,” her friend laughed, “and a salon date to fix the frizz in our hair.”

They grunted, prying the grate just enough to slip under, just in time. A few feet away a mailbox was struck and melted onto the sidewalk. The sudden burst of light made Irma shriek and let go, nearly dropping the grate on the both of them.

She clung to April’s arm, crying out. “Oh April, if we make it out of this, I’ll buy us the best package at the city’s ritziest spa!”

A familiar voice pushed past all the noise, overpowering even Irma’s words. “Allow us, cupcake!”

Something flicked April’s hand off the grate. Stunned, she jumped back seconds before the cover closed over her foot. Towering over her, Bebop and Rocksteady stood at the edge of the sidewalk, with the usual sneer in their voices, accompanied by the same ugly, self-satisfied smirks. April gulped, knowing she had just run into trouble.

“You guys again! Can’t you come back another time!?” She yelled.

Rocksteady clutched at his stomach in a roar of laughter. “Uh oh, da kitten’s still got claws!”

Bebop poked his partner’s side with the barrel of his laser gun. “Dummy. Don’t ‘ya know it’s rude to heckle a dame? Besides, it’s a spa day they want, so we should show ‘em the kinda rest ‘n relaxation offered up at the Technodrome!”

Alarm shot painfully through April. “The… Technodrome?! No!” With hands trembling far past her control, she clutched at the non-working turtle comm still in her pocket. “Oh, if only I could reach the turtles!”

“Sorry sweetie,” Bebop snorted, “but you got a date with our boss instead!”

Irma threw up her hands. “For the love of everything, when’s it my turn with that hunk?”

April held her friend close, every fiber of her body tensing, preparing for both of them to run like hell. “Not now Irma, we’ve got to think of a way to-”

As if in answer to her prayers, a flash of lightning hurtled between them and the mutants. It shook the lab building, sending rubble down like hail. Bebop and Rocksteady both lept out of the way of the blast, giving April enough time to fling Irma toward the grate opening as it shook loose.

“Irma, find Splinter and the turtles! I’m right behin-” she started.

A rough voice closed in behind her. “Oh no ‘ya don’t!

April watched in horror as Rocksteady caught Irma by the back of her clothes. Irma thrashed and kicked, but his grip remained firm. Bebop, grabbing rope from a nearby downed flagpole, tied her up with a snug knot.

April felt something white and hot flood the nerves in her hands. She swung her fists hard, not able to retain control over her body the way she knew how. The fear-fueled anger welling in her eyes sent her hurtling forward, blind and impulsive, leaving her legs unable to catch up to its momentum. She crashed down on the bloody concrete right before the laughing mutants.

“It’s no use! Get to the-” Irma screeched, her pitch hammering some sense into April’s head. The turtles. She needed the turtles.

Rocksteady put a gag over Irma’s mouth. “Quiet! Bebop, get the other one!”

Before the mutant could grab April, however, she bit his hand, earning howls of pain from him and laughter from the other. Without a second thought, she then ran to the curb and slipped through the grate opening. April dropped to the ground below, exhaling for a moment. She scrambled to the nearest grate opening and peered outside, her heart pounding.

Fanning his bitemark, Bebop looked up at the stormy sky in worry. “W-we’d better get outta here bro. That zap was-it was way too close.”

Rocksteady, slinging Irma over his shoulder, made for the transport module. “You’re right, Bebop old chum. Our work here’s done anyway.”

The pair hopped inside, haphazardly throwing Irma in the backseat. Rocksteady punched in some coordinates April struggled to read as she peered over his large frame. The engine started, which sent the drill turning.

“Wait, hold on!” Bebop interrupted, leaning out the door frame. April watched him toss a spherical device into the street, which rolled to a stop inside an overturned trashcan.

Bebop gave a signal to go ahead. Rocksteady pressed a button, causing the vehicle to sputter and jolt forward. Smoke billowed from the back end, kicking up dirt as the front side chewed through asphalt and dirt. Amidst the din April could barely hear the two mutants chattering about how smart they were. She remembered her own rides in that death machine, struggling in not imagining the worst case scenario for Irma. It was dark and smelly in there, but maybe that would be the worst of it. Irma couldn’t possibly be subjected to anything worse than Bebop and Rocksteady’s irritating, pungent conversations. The artic cold was the only other thing. Or maybe the Technodrome’s uncomfortably sterile interior.

Oh, who was she kidding?

April looked around at the cold dark sewer, the din outside fading away into her thoughts. She knew staying there was a bad idea, but her feet wouldn’t move. Her brain told her that this kidnapping was routine, but her clammy, shaking body screamed the truth: this was different. The events preceding it, even the way Bebop and Rocksteady carried themselves, it all had an air more serious than any encounter she’d had before. She’d dismissed the signs of something far more dangerous than normal, and now Irma was… was there. April dug her fists into her eye sockets, cursing at herself.

She pushed every cruel thought that bit at her, smoothing her clothes and pursing her lips. “Right. I’ve got to focus, find Splinter and the turtles. That’s what I’m gonna do right now.”

She pushed herself off the slimy brick wall, trudging to the first left turn she could find. Thankfully, she’d wandered these sewers so much that by now she no longer needed the map to the turtle lair. Fixating on which turn to make where kept her mind clear of the terror lapping at the edge of her mind. She told herself things would work out, that the boys would somehow fix this. They had to.

They’d burst into the Technodrome, grab Irma, slap Shredder around a few times, then say some stupid quip. Someone would break open a door or go through a dimensional portal-which she still couldn’t really believe existed-and everyone would be home again. Pizza would probably be involved. April couldn’t imagine a time she’d need it more than right now, celebrating with everyone, safe and sound. Things could only get better from here.

“But good god,” she whispered aloud, shattering her delusion, “how can things get any worse?”

Chapter Text

Deep breaths.

Yes, that’s what someone, somewhere, was saying.

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths and counting. Counting by twos, counting by fives. There was darkness. A shape stood above, counting to five. After the fives repeated over and over something hit with sharp metal teeth.

Deep breaths!

Everything hit all at once in the worst places possible. Karai’s eyes snapped open. Before her a world lay shrouded in light that stung. Air sucked into her lungs and burned. Something heavy sat on her chest and restricted movement. She heard a voice all around, counting, circling above her head. She heard the phrase again, deep breaths. The voice was far off but familiar in its shrillness. It forced an odd sense of comfort inside her, so she listened. A steady tone gradually flooded her right ear, but turned into beeping as her chest rose and fell. Her eyes focused and she saw the source of the noise: a strange machine with a line that made peaks and valleys. Beside it stood the blurry purple sheen of Krang’s bubble walker, complete with his pink form in the middle.

She heard the voice once more, his voice. “Karai, can you hear me?”

Karai. That was her name. Instead of speaking, she coughed and hacked. Details became sharper and Krang became clearer. He was putting something clear and plastic over her mouth and nose. She heard him again, ordering that she breathe. When she did, her lungs burned less and less. She felt around for a hand, flinching when she felt a tentacle instead. She blinked under what she now saw were the lights of the infirmary. Turning her head what little she could, she saw glimpses of Krang’s robot body behind her. She also noticed its empty cavity before jolts of pain demanded her head face forward.

Krang came into her view, his face flushed almost white. She could only muster up a weak moan to acknowledge him.

“Do you know where you are? Can you speak?” he asked.

“Ah… ah hah” was all she could get out. Fear had seized all the muscles on her right side. Her left, still numb, regained its feeling slower as she was sat upright.

Nothing looked familiar at first glance. The dream-like way the world appeared seemed wrong. Desperately, she glanced around for some anchor, but just became dizzy. She staggered up, held tight by metal hands. She managed to take a whole step before keeling over and vomiting. The she heard the bubble walker rush over, along with various exclamations she couldn’t make out. She coughed the last of it out while Krang’s android body held her close. She stood up and took the damp rag the robot offered her. Washing her face, rubbing her eyes, she heard Krang squelch into the robot’s carapace.

He patted her back, harder than she knew he meant to. “Karai, stop scaring me, please. Do you know how long it took me to resuscitate you? I was afraid-oh dear, you are turning the cutest shade of red. Don’t worry, I’ll get a Foot soldier to come take care of your little mess.”

It was then she recognized the embarrassing display she’d put on. He helped her back to the table, reapplied something velcro around her chest, then grabbed a flashlight.

“Follow the light” he said.

She did. With each swipe back and forth, the world slowly made sense again. Sighing, he put the light down and blinked at her with gooey eyes. “Can you speak now? Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I’m in the Technodrome” Karai croaked, shaking the spinning feeling in her skull.

He gave her a half smile. “Good. And who am I?”

“You’re Krang.”

“Yes. And who are you? When is your birthday? Who else do you remember?”

Karai stirred on the parchment paper, trying to focus. “I’m Oroku Karai. I… I think my birthday’s sometime in the fall. My father is Oroku Sak-”

She stopped. She coughed. She shook her head. “N-no. My father is Oroku Kazuo. Oroku Saki is… someone else. My uncle. Yes, he’s my uncle.”

“…Very good” Krang replied, his eyes lingering on her a moment. “And do you remember anything from the last 24 hours?”

The monitor next to her spiked rapidly. Karai felt tension in her chest, almost a fizzing numbness. Yesterday was a blur, but pain faintly surfaced above her tolerance level. She tried to name its differing forms as they appeared in rapid fire: achy, bubbly, sharp, stringy, pokey, throbby. It all washed away the minute she tried.

“I don’t,” she said, “should I?”

They sat for a moment, neither of them saying a word. Krang only looked her over with strange urgency. On his face lay his usual detached expression, or so she thought. His brow spasmed, fighting to crease. The way his tongue scraped over his teeth only betrayed how much his lip trembled. His eyes, flicking like a small insect from her to the monitor, stood wide like dinner plates. Putting all this together her brain zoomed out and noticed he sat completely still, not allowing himself even a blink. In that instant, she knew. He was scared.

Without knowing why, she cupped his face. She waited for a rebuke, for a tentacle to pull her away and him to titter on about how she shouldn’t fuss over him, that it was for him to do. Instead, the wet sensation of his skin remained on her palm. She watched his eyes close and his face sink into one of deep emotion. It made him look so much older.

“Karai, I…” he sighed, “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

She almost laughed. “Krang, why would I be mad at you?”

The alien twitched, like he meant to respond, but lost the words immediately. In the next instant he shot upright, grasping her wrist in a sudden fit of intrigue. Karai gasped.

“You’re… warm” he exclaimed to her surprise.

After fishing around on the table he took her arm, secured it with black fabric, and squeezed the balloon-shaped object attached to it. Karai had never gotten her blood pressure measured before. She shut her eyes tight when the device exhaled and her arm produced a heartbeat. Soon after, Krang removed it and wiped her wrist. When he pulled out a large needle, she pulled back.

“What… what are you doing?”

Krang froze again. “I …have to take a sample of your blood.”

Karai breathed in sharply, then nodded. The blood pooled into the vial, which she observed with a strange detachment. The needle extracted, leaving a shock on her skin the second it touched the air. Small tendrils of light clung to the metal, then dissipated. A machine on the wall started awake when Krang inserted the sample into its suction valve.

“…I’m what?” she asked, trying to start the conversation back up. “Aren’t I supposed to be?”

Krang, now focused on observing the data, spoke more naturally. “Even you warm-blooded creatures have limits. Your temperature shouldn’t be in the hundreds.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly that it took Karai a minute to realize this was bad news. She felt her leg bouncing with subdued terror. “That’s bad” was all she could say.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. You still seem to be groggy, though I’m amazed you’ve recovered this quickly at all,” Krang continued, “You don’t seem to remember yesterday’s events, but something is clearly accelerating your physical healing process. I assume you saw the little sparks when I removed the needle?”

“Yeah, but-”

“I hope it means what I think it does. More testing is needed.”

A picture flashed in Karai’s mind. A book. A book with a title she couldn’t make out. Karai sat forward in her seat, which hurt her legs. “Didn’t you say something about electricity recently?”

Before she could get a clear answer, a voice boomed from behind.

“Why haven’t you told me she woke up?”

Both parties jumped as Shredder emerged from the dark hall. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, he watched with a skeptical eye.

“Saki,” Krang said breathlessly, “I told you to stop doing that. Where are the mutants?”

Shredder took the seat closest to Karai and examined her in a similar way to Krang. Unlike Krang however, his expression was blank. “Still out. You didn’t answer my question. Is she fully conscious? Is she alright?”

It was probably grogginess, but Karai thought she heard a strain in his cadence. He sounded like he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

Krang looked him in the eye. “Saki, she’s fine, just like I said she’d be. But I’m not sure if she’s ready for anything strenuous. There are gaps in her memory, and the phenomena from before she woke up has subsided. I want to keep her here for a little while longer, just until these things change.”

Shredder took off his mask and stared back, pausing in disbelief. “Krang, you were the one who ordered me to begin her training as soon as possible. Well, I’m here and it’s nearly dawn. Don’t tell me you’re ditching the plan already?”

Krang scowled. “Like I told you before all this, I don’t yet know the full scale of our experiment’s effects. I’m running the tests now and she’s not leaving this room until I deem her well.”

Shredder pounded his fist on the table. “Oh, like you care so much about her safety. We’ve lost valuable time already! Those turtles must suspect something by now, and we can’t have them coming here.”

Venom, unlike anything Karai had heard from him, drenched his every word. Krang noticed too.

“I will not have this conversation in front of her” he snapped, “You’re going to sit there and wait until I say so!”

Shredder’s frown deepened. “She needs to get a move on and you know it! Must you fight me on everything!?” He then glanced at the ground, fixed on something. When Karai realized it was a robot tending to her accident, she bit her lip.

Krang huffed, grabbing a slip of paper as the machine dinged. Shredder towered over him as he read silently. “Here, look at this. Tell me to my face she should be anywhere but here!”

“Give me that!” Shredder snatched the paper and read rapidly. Again, something sputtered in his voice and face like an engine trying to turn over. “See… I don’t see anything. She’s fine, clean bill of health. Now get out of my way.”

After pushing Krang’s cursing body aside, he startled Karai by addressing her directly. “It doesn’t matter what you remember. As long as you’re ready for the day ahead.”

Karai looked around, removing the medical equipment on her person in confusion. “Uncle...”

Shredder walked briskly toward the hallway, “I want you ready in five minutes. Brush your teeth and all that.”

“Wait,” Karai hoarsely shouted down the corridor, “where?!”

As the edges of Shredder’s cape disappeared around the corner, Karai shut her eyes and inhaled. After waking up to the whirlwind of their bickering, she felt unsure of who to listen to. She trudged back through the doorway.

The heavy ache of worry had returned to Krang’s face, but her presence made him choke it down. His metal hands, after a moment’s hesitation, ghosted the back of her hair.

“I’m glad you’re alright” he said. Something rapid, electric, tickled the strands he touched.

She nodded quickly, relieved at the ability to stand but nervous at his unease. She hadn’t known him long, but he’d never hid emotions from her. Her trust in her guardians waned a bit when she considered what they weren’t telling her. This worried her too.

“I feel fine, Krang” she fibbed.

He eased up and nodded, his way of taking mental note. “We’ve arranged for you to regain your footing with a few exercises. Shredder’s going to meet you on the cliff above the Technodrome.”

Shredder had explicitly told her that cliffside was forbidden. She’d never even been allowed outside without roughly 30 Foot soldiers in tow. Was the sparring room no longer good enough, or were these exercises expected of her only doable in the open plains? Suddenly her knees felt funny. As he kept talking her rapid heartbeat muffled his words. Inch by inch her face angled down as her eyes locked on the floor, unable to face Krang. She didn’t notice his android’s cavity leaning down to the ground.

“Karai?” Krang asked again, peering up past her curtains of hair.

Karai jumped. “I’m… sorry?”

“Do you need a moment?” he asked.

She stood there, processing his question. Shredder’s voice shouted through the intercom system and shattered her thoughts.

“Karai! I’m waiting for you at the entrance. What’s the delay!?”

When Krang looked back at Karai, she knew how to answer. Letting the confusion tumble around, mix with the anxiety, and mesh into a pit in her stomach, she assumed the boldest face she could.

“My master wants me out there. I’m willing and able” she said, “His command is law.”

***

The portal to the outside opened, blinding Karai with daylight. She waited, her muscles tense, for the Arctic breeze to blast through its entrance. She waited for it to shuffle along her skin, redden her nose, then leave her with those wonderful shivers that reminded her that the world outsized any of her troubles. As the wind brushed her face, it knocked back her bangs playfully. She watched the hair on her arms move, then waited for the chill. That chill never came. Her skin didn’t even prickle with the change of temperature. Something was very wrong.

Panic swelled. She pinched herself. “Krang said the effects of the… experiment… would wear off in time” she muttered in the most assuring tone she could.

Thoughts raced wildly. Experiment? Was that the gap in her body’s memory? Was it why she’d woken up so violently? She grasped to bottle up each one, pinching herself until her nails left marks. Her skin stood numb even to the pain. It would pass. It had to.

Morning peeked over the horizon, blanketing the frozen cliff in periwinkle. In the distant expanse Karai heard glaciers fracture and split. Cautiously she went toward the drop-off, knowing she wouldn’t get another chance to see it. The ice at her feet plunged down for miles, shifting from white to blue to dark sapphire in a canyon that scarred the earth. A cage of jagged peaks clawed up from the deep sea, holding the alien hulls of the Technodrome. Once she noticed it she couldn’t look away. This was the first time she’d ever seen it in its entirety. It teetered gently on one side, a pearl golem uttering deep metallic groans. Black turrets shot up from each side nearest its roof, center, and just above tank tracks that could crush a small planet. Its eye, which Karai had been assured was a kind of telescope, sat at the very top. She studied it and decided she hated how it blinked. Despite its massive size (Bebop had told her it reached earth’s tallest skyscrapers) it still shrunk under the towering cliffs. It was hard to imagine that this place, a machine of war from distant cosmic shores, now lay broken below a lonely tundra.

Her mind went to Dimension X. Would she really get to see it? She exhaled and let herself think about why Krang’s promise held so much weight. When she probed deeper, when she reflected on what brought her to his doorstep to begin with, it felt like a punch in the gut. She backed away from the cliff, sick of the scene. Earth had long felt like a place she didn’t belong. The Technodrome, and the thought of exploring Dimension X, both provided a means of escape. If she didn’t do what Shredder asked, when he asked it, it would disappear. That couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow anything more she held dear to slip through her fingers. Still, the anxiety sat heavy in her stomach. If she couldn’t impress him…

A sudden sweep of the legs took her down. Impulse curled her into a roll. She shrunk under Shredder, who stood in a layered coat vaguely outlined by the pink sun. A vein shot unattractively from his temple.

“At least you retain your instincts” he said, walking away as she reached for him. “Now is not the time for sightseeing.”

She followed him to a small campsite, complete with a dome tent, bags, ice gear, and some handheld devices she didn’t recognize. These looked similar to the communicators she saw both Shredder and Krang carry, but with a dialed mini-monitor in place of a viewscreen. Back turned, Shredder lifted a large case onto a table. She heard it click open and took a step closer, eyes roving over all the shiny equipment.

She kicked an ice pick farther than she meant to. “Are we going climbing?”

Shredder didn’t turn around. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re staying out here, all day if we must. Now come, I want you to see this.”

Karai only took a half step, fingers picking at her underlip. “Is this a test?”

Shredder forcefully pointed down beside him. “Come here.”

Once she saw what was in the case, worry blended with excitement. Inside lay four pairs of weapons, no doubt from Shredder’s quarters off-limits to her. Their edges were sharper, their sheen more organic, making them earthlier than the laser blasters she knew. They laid on fine velvet, all of them engraved with ancient Japanese proverbs. In order from largest to smallest, they were a bow staff, katanas, nunchaku, and sai. As she drew in her breath to ask why he’d brought them, Shredder’s voice boomed over her shoulder.

“Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

She froze, unsure of which answer made the most sense. “I’m not that cold, Master.”

Shredder inhaled sharply. “It’s fifty degrees below zero, girl.”

“I’m… tenacious” she smiled, turning to face him. He didn’t smile back.

“Hmm,” Shredder gestured back to the weapons. “We’ll be using these for your training.”

Karai scratched her head. “What… what are we doing?”

“So you’ve already forgotten about your opponents, have you?” He took the katana into his hands. “You’ve forgotten that those wretched turtles use these as their weapons of choice? If that’s the case then we should just pack up now, save us a trip to the city.”

“No, that’s not what I meant! I was just-” Karai stammered.

Shredder fell silent. He shut the case and stood there. Karai felt relieved when he spoke again.

“To truly beat those mutants, you’ll need to know their fighting style. It’s important you familiarize yourself with their weapons of choice,” Shredder then rolled his eyes, “even if their katas are clumsy.”

“Master, with all due respect,” Karai asked, “Krang said-”

“Krang says lots of things” Shredder huffed, “Who has taught you all you know?”

She could only nod. He was making her nervous. An eerie, quiet anger had replaced his natural boisterousness. His eyes scared her; they were too bright, too wild. There was no small talk, no brevity, only quivering anticipation. Like earlier he seemed to struggle with what to do with her, more eager to rush her and get her out of his hair. She repressed the urge to ask if she was in trouble.

The sun, a little higher now, gleamed on Shredder’s kabuto and gauntlets. With this, the sword, his long tekko-kagi, Karai shrunk beneath him.

“Steel yourself, little one” he said, “for today your real training begins.” He brandished the sword, then pointed it toward her small body. “I do not intend to go easy on you.”

The reality of the situation finally set in, taking the form of a cold sweat. She really had to fight him, training with real sharpened weapons. She took a deep breath, resigning herself to whatever came next in a deep bow. Her hands felt around the spaces between her fingers. She was missing something. Something had to be in her hands. She had to know what Shredder wanted her to do with her hands. Something was missing…

...All this for a microchip?

“Wait, Sensei-!” she cried out as she realized what was wrong, “where are my weapons? You didn’t give me any-”

Their eyes met. Shredder assumed an offensive stance. “Hajime.”

The world whirled before Karai’s eyes as she dodged his steel. Her shoulder struck hard against the ground, rattling her collarbone. At the same time, the clang of Shredder’s sword trembled across the ice. Shaking off the shock, Karai watched him land, slide, then instantly pivot back toward her. She blocked a kick with her shins, wincing, then scrambled back a few feet. She caught glimpses of something in Shredder’s free hand. From his wandering glances it was evident he was splitting his attention in two. Through the blur of his movements, she made out the familiar shape of those devices she’d seen at the tent. She heard a rapid beeping whenever it passed near her, and it ricocheted unpleasantly in her skull.

The katana flashed before her eyes. Reflex replaced curiosity. As if observing from outside herself, Karai watched her wrists fling up and block the blade with her short tekko-kagi. The impact shook them both. The device beeped. Shredder recovered quickly, gripped the weapon tight, and knocked it more violently against Karai’s gauntlets. Karai planted her feet firm on the ground, enduring each blow, and straining every muscle in her leg until they spasmed.

He wasn’t going to break her stance, he couldn’t break her stance.

Her feet slipped inch by inch. Sweat dripped down and caught the light, glittering the edges of her vision. Danger, instinct hissed, danger. She shook her head. No, not danger. He was her uncle. He would guide her, shape her, fix her.

“You haven’t landed a single blow,” he shouted, “those turtles will make short work of you!”

The air itself pushed back unnaturally against her, as if she dragged invisible weights that slowed her every movement. Her body felt hollow, numb to every sensation. She was just tired, cold. That had to be it.

“Stop it, Karai. You’ll just have to work harder” she barked at herself.

Shredder swung again. She dodged, switching stances like he’d taught her. The air sliced just beside her, followed by a short breeze. Somehow her uncle had sheathed his sword and pulled out the nunchakus. He stalked around her, waiting for her move. Body low, he tracked Karai’s movement to the smallest twitch and spun the weapon in almost absolute silence. Every step, slow and calculated, made Karai freeze in her tracks. Stress had soaked into her shirt's thick fabric, but she only felt the trickle, not the chill. She tore off her headband and pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. Nothing. Why nothing?

Just then, her uncle seized her free wrist and pinned it behind her. She bit her lip to avoid crying out. As his grip tightened, the stench of failure and shame left her unable to think. It sunk deep into her skin, marking her.

"Is something wrong with you?!" Shredder yelled.

"I... I don't think-" she started, before his angry breath billowed at the back of her head.

“You’ve come close to beating me in previous exercises. I trained you better than this. Do you want to spend next month cleaning everyone's quarters?!"

"N-no Sensei!" Karai begged, desperate to recall a time Bebop and Rocksteady had changed their sheets.

He let go. One end of his weapon dangled at the end of its chain. “Then where is your aggression, child?!”

Weakness couldn’t knock her back to the gutter she’d clawed out of. She needed this; the training, the Technodrome, Krang, him. The horizon line before her spun off-kilter as she charged forward. Shredder’s movements formed gusts that hit her skin like hammers. Her bones trembled. She didn't want to do this anymore. She shut her eyes tight. Her fingers spasmed. Still, she pushed and pushed, desperation straining her to the brink of collapse. Something prickled like thousands of fire ants under her nails.

No more faltering. She had to strike.

Karai gasped when, as she swung another punch, her limbs locked up at random. She lost her footing and tumbled onto the ground, and in doing so reached for Shredder’s arm for balance. Her hand closed around his sharp gauntlets. She saw her own blood and instantly dry-heaved. The sun glinted off the metal and into her eyes. Blinded, she landed with a thud that spread pain across her spine. She raised a hand to block the glare, then shrieked. The light wasn’t coming from the sun this time. It was on her fingertips, sparking like a faulty piece of machinery. The rest of her hand felt like it had fallen asleep; it buzzed like tv static. Shredder’s wretched device tinged in her ear again. Karai dodged Shredder again as he swung his weapon. One of its metal ends struck her leg and shocked her, throwing her back. Now propelled only by her arms, Karai scrambled, trying to conceal the desperation welling up inside. She could only guess how stupid she looked, not unlike a helpless turtle. She licked the blood off her wound and stood up again. She ran toward her master with abandon, then slid to a stop just below his legs. Locking hers around his ankles, with the interruption of another static shock, she twisted her body and hurled him to the ground. With a roll and a curious look in his eye, Shredder watched her turn and face him. His device beeped again, this time more rapidly. Karai watched, panting. She pushed drooly flyaways of hair from her mouth. Shredder just stood there, putting away his nunchakus, and watched her. Then, as his eyes creased upwards under his mask, he threw his head back and laughed.

“Your hair’s a mile high” he guffawed.

The minute she felt her head, she believed it. The top of her hair floated above her in a strange limbo. A response to static electricity, no doubt, judging from the way it stung when she touched it.

Her heart raced. “Why?”

“You-just a minute,” Shredder said, looking down at his device. For a moment the screen flashed, which made his face shift into a grimace. Karai heard the words “not enough” in a quiet exhale.

Her heart sank. Then Shredder asked something that alarmed her.

“Karai,” he said with a strange waver to his voice, “Karai, listen. Have you felt anything different, a surging, a tingling? Is the energy different around you?"

The air around her felt more palpable, like sitting in the electric dark of a playground slide in the heat of summer. Every time she moved, she felt it. Every time she felt it, Shredder’s device went off. Did it have to do with her skin’s reaction to the needle back in the medibay? Her skin hadn’t stopped reacting to metal, and it itched at the places her body creased. She looked back at her uncle, hoping he could put it into words.

Instead, his face only hardened. Sighing deeply, he unzipped his front coat pocket and slipped the device inside, not bothering to zip it back again. “Nothing. Hm. Well, we’ll finish this match and then… then get a bath running for you. Perhaps… we can try again tomorrow.”

Frantic, Karai looked around for something to keep him here. She found her bandanna she’d lost earlier, laying a few inches from his feet. She sprinted forward. Shredder jumped back as she slid to a stop just beside him. She wrapped the bright red fabric around her head, arms quivering as she tied the knot.

“I’m surprised at you, uncle, for giving up so easily,” she started confidently, “you’re not one to back down from a fight, are you?”

Shredder’s face didn’t change. Karai kept her smile stretched wide. Her heart pounded even faster, waiting for the moment when he called her on her bluff. Instead, he emitted a breathy chuckle. His hands reached for his belt and pulled out the next weapon: the sai.

His body coiled into a strike which broke through her guard. She felt her teeth rattle loose. He then swung his whole body to deliver a powerful kick. Karai felt the violence in which her breath rushed from her lungs. They burned, then tightened as she frantically drew in more air. The sharp details of the surrounding glaciers turned soft and fuzzy, and she then realized he’d been going easy on her until now. She staggered backwards a few feet, then found her footing. Her hands clasped over her chest, body heaving and puffing until her equilibrium restored. She heard her master scramble and curse. Maybe she had cursed instead. Either way, Shredder paused just long enough for Karai to find an opening in his stance. Her palm extended, puncturing the air, pushing through the dragging force. As she hit her mark, Shredder’s jaw, he reeled back and counterstruck. As his kick hit her shin she keeled over, absorbing the shock as best she could. All else darkened at the corners of her vision. She didn't even hear Shredder coming. She didn’t notice the wind slicing in half as he brought down the sai. Electricity climbed up her arm, shooting through her like a Jacob’s Ladder. When she heard the smack, the crunch of metal, she gasped. When she saw the blinding light on her fingertips, she screamed.

The device flew out of Shredder’s pocket, shrieking as it was ripped open.

In the same moment, the gaps in Karai’s memory vanished. Yesterday, and all its events, bombarded her senses. Shards of glass. Lightning humming like bees. Claps of thunder bursting her ear drums. Metal squeezing her wrists. Red was the dominant color; it was in her clothes and on her hands and on her skin. In an instant she was back in that lab, back in the metal vat peering through at Krang, at Bebop and Rocksteady, at Shredder. She heard herself screaming to deaf ears, crying for mercy. The light from the sky cast ugly, unfeeling shadows on their faces.

Heat. Heat had come from the sky in pillars of fire. Every gasp had sucked in more and more until it filled her body. As she hit Shredder now, heat struck through her nerves. It rushed from her hands in a mad frenzy. Thunderbolts conducted across her master’s armor, and their din drowned out the sounds of his defeat. For one terrible moment, Karai watched it all with abject apathy. No, it wasn’t apathy, it was heat. As her mind processed the fullness of yesterday, the heat became fire, it became anger. She gasped, trying to choke it back as the surge of her power threw her to the ground. She wasn't supposed to be angry. She was meant to be grateful for all that'd been done for her. After all, what other student can say their master had done so much for them? To give them this nebulous gift of gods at so young an age?

It was all part of the plan, right?

She looked up first, first realizing she was back on the ground, then horrified by the sight of the sai laying on the ice in pieces. She looked down at her hands; she saw they glowed. They… glowed. They looked like she’d shoved her fingers in front of a flashlight.

Terror turned Karai pale when she saw Shredder. He laid unmoving, face-first, on the ice. Small streams of red pooled underneath. She dropped to her knees and turned him over, discovering he was still breathing, albeit shallowly. The moment she touched him his fabric sparked. He jolted, instinctively swatting her hands away. He stood up, favoring his left side. He removed the fractured remains of his mask and tossed it away.

His eyes immediately found her. A long silence followed.

“Karai, did you…?”

When her mind came back to her, Karai nodded cautiously.

She thought she saw a gleam in his eyes. “Really? That was you?”

Her nod was more certain this time. Setting the remaining sai on the ground, her uncle walked toward her, cautiously, and examined her hands. Karai wished she could feel the chill of his metal, but at least she had the callouses on his palms to ground her.

“Your fingers, they’re-” he muttered. Karai almost answered him, but the intensity of his face revealed he wasn’t actually speaking to her.

Panic left her in shaky breaths. She imagined scenario after terrible scenario, punishment after punishment. She balanced on the balls of her feet, slowly rocking herself up and down. As the scene blurred in front of her, she realized she was close to crying.

A smile travelled all the way up to his eyes. He took her by the shoulders. “Karai, you’re wonderful.”

Karai blinked everything back.

A softness spread across his face. It looked like relief. “It worked, I can’t believe Krang actually- this is incredible, it’s great, it’s magnificent!”

Shredder let go of her. Her hands fell limp to her sides, swollen, uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you excited?” her uncle called.

She nodded. Landing a blow was all that’d mattered to her. But now, the absence of battle was a presence.

Shredder, still smiling, removed his kabuto and dabbed his bloody mouth with his cape. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he snickered, “but you certainly fought well. I’ve never been prouder. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Her fists clenched until they went white.

“Karai? Did you hear me?”

“No, master. I’m not. The only thing damaged is your weapons.”

Shredder laughed again, then moved to the tent. “Looks like more weather moving in,” He continued, looking west. Indeed, the wind had stirred the ends of Karai’s uniform and hair. Hair that, she noted, no longer stuck straight up. In fact, all the heavy static in the air had gone. Her heart lept when, as she watched the snowflakes resume from the corners of her eyes, she felt a prick of cold on her cheek. Her gasp echoed and bounced off the motion of everything surrounding her. She felt more chills pepper her body. She drank in the winter air deeply and coughed it out when it stuck in her throat. She watched gloomy clouds roll in above her, picturing how beautifully, perfectly chilly they were.

Shredder tapped the edge of a makeshift table to snap her back. A fresh cup of cocoa waited for her there.

“First bath, then the lab,” Shredder said once Karai staggered over.

The first sip turned bitter on her tongue. She spoke without meaning to. “Again?!”

That earned her a stern look. “Yes, again. Krang won’t take my word for it, he’ll need to see that you’ve triggered your abilities himself. And no one wants to share a room with a smelly child.”

She threw her hands up in the air, alarmed for a moment at the sizzling sound they made when moving through the cold air. “Just like that? You’re handing me over to his machines again? When do I get to sleep?!”

Shredder’s look deepened into a scowl and made her spine stiff.

“Tone” his voice thundered deep. His eyes peered at her, dark and stormy.

Karai felt smaller before him with this one command. “I apologize, I simply-”

“You dare assume I would put you in harm’s way?”

“Of course-of course not.”

“You forget yourself, girl. I decide what fate befalls even my most valuable of soldiers. You are my student because I chose to teach you. You mean to tell me that the moment you begin reaping the benefits of my generosity, you would question me?”

Real thunder rumbled not far off. Eyes wide, palms sweating, Karai almost dropped her cup. “What? No master, I wouldn’t! Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“I could ask you why you faltered so during our training,” Shredder glared, “I’d be inclined to assume you’re not as serious about this as I thought. Perhaps you don’t want your abilities after all.”

“I don’t even know what they do!!” Karai gripped the sides of the table and accidentally spilled her drink, “I need to know what happened, why I can barely remember! I need to know the plan! I can’t train like I used to; I can’t even have a moment to breathe! This is not what you promised me!”

Shredder once again became filmy through the tears prickling in her eyes. Blinking them back, her voice died down to a gurgling tone.

“Uncle, please,” she said.

Indignation turned Shredder’s face purple. He seethed over the words she knew he only half-heard. Shame crashed down on her in waves. All that work to prove herself, curdled by her inability to do as she was told. She waited for the sting of his next words and looked away.

She heard a breath, then a sigh. The rustling of Shredder’s cape under his coat evidenced that the wind had picked up again. The smell of his clothes, cloaked in sweat and blood, filled her nostrils, along with the scent of scorched metal.

“Karai, I…” he started.

A brief silence followed. Karai looked up to find her uncle looking off into the distance, but his expression had not changed. She saw him breathing, heavily, exhaustedly. She saw him covering his hand but still made out the blood on his fingers.

“Did I …hurt you?” she whimpered.

Her uncle quickly tucked his hand inside the folds of his cape. “No.”

Karai leaned over the table, her voice stern. “Let me see.”

He rolled his eyes. “I assure you I’m fine.”

“Let me see, uncle. Now.” Her words boiled hot in her throat.

Shredder watched her, perplexed, as she reached for his hand and examined the injury. For a brief second, she had a voice more like the one inside. For that second, she had commanded his attention.

A cursory glance at his fingers squashed any growing pride. Beneath the layer of blood and soot, his hand looked burned. Not badly, but enough to warrant returning to the Technodrome. Blisters, swelling, and discolorations littered the skin closest to his gauntlets, which he’d removed. The metal seemed to have conducted whatever electricity she’d produced, as well as the rest of his armor. She couldn’t bear to see what other damage she’d done. She grabbed a nearby gauze and wrapped it clumsily around his fingers. With each turn her embarrassment grew. She had no idea what she was doing, or why. He’d never done it for her.

Shredder chuckled, softly, which stung her ego. “Not like that. Wrap it this way.”

He took the bandage and unwound most of her work. He winced as he poured water over the wounds. To her surprise, before he redid the wraps, he took her palm and placed it over his. Her fingers touched the fabric, avoiding his raw skin.
He moved his free hand slow, so she could follow. “Like this. Crisscross. Allow the wrap to conform around my joints.”

When she messed up, he sucked in breath through his teeth. She felt a guilty pang. “I’m sorry uncle, I-”

She stopped and put her head in her hands. Shredder said nothing, finishing the bandaging himself.

“I’m sorry” she said a second time.

“It’s… alright” Shredder said, “Not everyone has the stomach for this.”

“I don’t have the stomach for anything.”

“You beat me, didn’t you?”

“I could’ve really hurt you.” Regret, mixed with other emotions she couldn’t name, warbled her speech into a tangled mess. “Uncle, I could’ve k… I could’ve-”

She couldn’t say it. Shredder smirked.

“You’ll be unstoppable now. Just like you wanted” he said. When she didn’t answer, his eyes narrowed. “At least, that’s what you told me you wanted when I found you.”

She nodded quickly. Shredder leaned forward.

“You’re so… so big now” he said, his voice softening, “The last time I saw you, you were what-this tall?”

Karai smirked tiredly as his quivering hand hovered barely off the ground, but the sudden shift in his demeanor scared her more than his harshness had.

“My brother was always telling me you’d outgrow the both of us. Did he ever…?”

“M-mm” Karai replied. “I wasn’t allowed to study Foot katas after you became jonin. He liked your sensei Splinter better.”

“Explains why you came to me.”

“Yeah.”

After drumming his fingers, carefully considering his next words, Shredder pursed his lips. “What do you remember about Kazuo?”

“He didn’t want me to be like you.”

“He had trouble seeing your full potential, limited your abilities to appease arbitrary rules. Do you see what his pursuit of comfort got him?”

The picture was in her mind, yellow with age from what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Me, behind a dumpster. A stolen wallet in my hands. Nowhere to turn.”

“Wrong,” he corrected, “it left you powerless.”

He cupped her face. She flinched at the touch, but settled into it.

“After today, you will never be powerless again.”

Karai let the tears flow.

Shredder wiped her tears. He sat up straighter; his breathing had steadied. Whether it was from resting or getting this off his chest, it was hard to say. Either way, he began gathering the campsite, taking out the communicator he and Krang always used. Then, his indifference returned.

“Villainy is a career, Karai. You know that.”

“Yes… sensei” she answered, shaking off emotion as well.

“I don’t know the full scope of these new powers, and neither does Krang. But they’ll help you earn your place here. And if you continue to impress me, you’ll be my chunin soon enough.”

Karai sat there wide-eyed. “Your…?”

“Well, I know Krang promised you eventual rule over his home dimension. I figured I should offer something too.”

She allowed herself a moment to breathe in the aftermath of their exchange. So much was said. Chunin. More rewards, more promises. More pressure. More tightness in her body that she desperately wished away.

While helping him pack away the supplies into the bags, she rapidly blinked away snow as it flew into her eyes. Her one free hand rubbed the base of her neck, then cleared away the cocoa cups. Lifting the weapons case, her shoulders locked, causing her to drop it. She drew back, cursing herself.

Shredder’s communicator rang.

“Hey, boss!” a gruff voice shouted. Karai tried to guess which mutant it was, Bebop or Rocksteady, but they sounded too similar over the phone.

After a long rub of his temples, followed by an uncivil “this better be important”, Shredder barked orders to open the portal and speak with him inside. Whoever was speaking tried his best to get a word in, but her uncle’s shaky breaths told Karai she’d used up the last of his patience for conversation. She looked back, seeing the weather had gotten worse past the cliffs. She turned, but not before she heard Shredder screech at the top of his lungs.

“You WHAT?!”

Her heart raced. Like a child she tugged on his coat, but he was too busy arguing with the now multiple voices on the other end of the line. She heard a sizzle, a crackle, then a pop, followed by a gust of wind that pulled her forward. She planted her feet as the air sucked inward. The portal they’d both been waiting for ripped through the air with a piercing schwing sound, almost metallic in nature. She’d never seen one open so close. She couldn’t help but marvel at the kaleidoscope of colors that danced on her skin. Fading as quickly as they’d arrived, the brilliance melted into the cold lights of the brig. She looked forward, then down the cliff, then back again, heart leaping in excitement at the Technodrome existing in two places at once. Through everything, the conversation between her uncle and his lackeys hardly seemed relevant. She only noticed them once Rocksteady waved in her direction and the instinct to be polite took over.

She caught Shredder with a tight grip on Bebop’s jacket collar. “And just what did you think was going to happen! You’d just waltz right in and…”

More shouting was muffled by the howling snow. Suddenly they were moving inside, mutants walking behind with their tails between their legs. If they had tails anyway. All the lights stung the back of her eyes, adding to the confusion of the scene. Static shocked the tips of Rocksteady’s fingers as he tried to help her inside. The storm seemed to have carried in from outside, on her clothes. She looked back, uttering a quiet apology. Through the door on her left she saw Krang lumber in with his flesh-toned android body. It was about to get louder. She found a spot in his chair, centered before the giant viewscreen which enveloped most of the room, and took her gauntlets off. Whatever was going on, at least it wasn’t her fault. Her fingers gripped the cold steel armrests, but the numbing sensation started to creep back in. Room temperature metal touched her skin. She felt heavy again.

She shut her eyes and gripped harder. The noise now hammered at her eardrums. Her leg bounced rapidly and soundlessly. She felt her face twist into a grimace. She bit her lip and forced herself up, feet dragging on the spotless metal floor. Snowflake after snowflake dripped off her already drenched clothes. Ugh. She could smell herself. The adults kept arguing, the heat between them threatening to match the heat in her gut. She trudged off into the hallway and out of sight. Scrunching her face, she forced the discomfort from this morning out of her head. Soon after, she felt the chill of the walls on her hand. She picked up her pace as the shouting trailed off into silence.

Let them have their petty arguments. She really needed that bath.

Chapter Text

“H-hey Rocksteady?”

“Yeah, Bebop?”

“Do ‘ya think the boss is mad we kidnapped ‘dat Irma dame?”

Rocksteady squirmed in the taut rope tied around them both. It pulled uncomfortably against the chained hook that dangled them like a piece of meat. He looked down at the acid lapping at the edge of an economy-size vat.

“I think it’s safe ‘ta say that” he said.

Bebop kicked his feet, losing a shoe to the fizzling concoction. “Uh, boss? Mr. Krang sir? Could ‘ya lift us up a little higher?”

Krang and his exosuit stood below by a few yards, one hand coiled tightly around a cartoonishly large lever. The look in his eyes wasn’t promising. “Give me a good reason to.”

“Why don’t you put Karai in there? Maybe she’ll get even more powers.” Shredder’s voice cut through the room in an echo.

He sat, arms and legs crossed, in a swivel chair nestled in the corner. An industrial polishing machine braced against his back. Krang glared silently at him, to which he did the same back. Tension forced both mutants to hum awkwardly and swing their legs.

“Maybe I’ll put you in there” Krang grumbled.

Shredder laughed derisively. “Is that your solution to everything? If you’d come up with more simple schemes like that, we might actually win sometime!”

“We never win because you’re an idiot!” Krang bellowed, the last of his patience slipping away in a single huff, “with the rate we’re going at I should just throw us all in!”

“Well come on in, the water’s great!” Shredder bellowed, ignoring the worried mutants and their protests.

Krang clomped over, trapping Shredder in his towering shadow.

A nasal voice interjected. Irma, tied against the acid vat, smiled sheepishly. “Um, sorry. Are you guys going to fight like this for much longer? I’m kinda hungry.”

“Hungry…” Krang repeated breathlessly, but Shredder interrupted him.

“I thought I told you to keep quiet!”

“Sorry, I just haven’t had something to eat for the longest time!” Irma cried.

Shredder checked a nearby clock. “We had brunch ten minutes ago!!”

“Ignore her, Saki,” Krang said tiredly. He walked back over to the control panel, blocking out Irma’s whines for food.

Bebop and Rocksteady heaved nervously, rattling the chain, swaying it wildly.

“Please Krang! We just thought we was helpin’!” one said.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean ‘ta ruin your plan! At least Karai got her mojo workin’!” yelled the other.

Krang’s android foot stomped abruptly, shaking the room. “Just barely! SHE JUST BARELY ACTIVATED HER POWERS!”

Krang’s voice reached a hardness, a hostility, that no one present had ever heard before. His outburst sucked out all sound. Refusing to make eye contact, he stared ahead at the lever he’d earlier threatened to pull.

Irma looked at Shredder, who looked at the mutants, who looked at them both. Shredder cleared his throat.

“Krang-”
“This is all your fault” the alien snapped back, “You’ve been training her for months, and the result you got was weak at best!”

Shredder jumped to his feet. He started to gesticulate, but his bandages kept him from moving too wildly. “Me?! You’re blaming me?!” His hand crashed against his chest. “I push her! I do all the work! Apparently, all you know how to do is strap her to a death machine!”

“That got her farther than years of your so-called training would have!” Krang screamed, whipping himself around to face the ninja.

Shredder’s face went white, then red. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Krang, putting all of this on me! I’d like to see you do all this without me!”

Krang tapped his foot. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a terrible idea.”

Stunned, Shredder breathed in a gasp shaking with rage. After staring his partner down, he stomped his foot and briskly left the room. Krang watched him go, biting the inside of his lip, until Shredder completely disappeared. Then, the alien’s face dropped little by little, until his expression turned regretful. He trudged over to Irma, who had watched the scene in a stupor.

“My apologies” he said as he loosened her restraints, “You humans have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Two words. Marriage counselor” Irma quipped, looking him in the eye. She let out a long sigh once the rope fell at her feet. “Though, if it doesn’t work out between you two, I’d be happy to take muscles off your, uh, tentacles.”

Krang pressed a button that gently lowered Bebop and Rocksteady to the ground. Once their feet touched the Technodrome floors, both of them flopped down and kissed the tiles. After a sharp warning from Krang, they composed themselves and turned to Irma.

“Sorry lady, we asked” Rocksteady shrugged, “Krang’s the only one ‘a them that likes girls.”

“Drat” Irma pouted. She tilted her head and studied Krang, who rolled his eyes, and formed a tight line with her mouth. “Well, I guess you’re kinda cute. Like a naked mole rat.”

Fingers running through his violet hair, Bebop flashed a grin. “Well you didn’t ask us. We’re eligible bachelors.”

Irma stuck out her tongue. “You got any brothers?”

“Everyone stop. This isn’t The Love Boat” Krang barked, causing the group to stand at attention.

As the alien tweaked the control panel, Irma wandered around, oohing and ahhing at every conceivable thing. Bebop and Rocksteady followed her, ushering her away from the machines with high voltage warnings on them. When she asked what something was, Krang kept silent, leaving the mutants to trip over their words as they attempted to explain science they could never dream of understanding.

Bored after a while, Irma made her way over to Krang, who had started running some calculations on a nearby terminal. In order to see what he was doing, she stood on the tips of her toes and grabbed onto Krang’s metal arm for support.

Krang jumped at the touch. “What in the ten dimensions do you think you’re doing?!”

Irma flashed him an innocent smile. “Just looking.”

“Well, look over there” he frowned.

“I did. What’s all this?” she said as her finger moved to push buttons, possessing a mind of its own.

“Very advanced mathematics,” he pulled her back, “ones your earthling mind could never comprehend.”

“It looks similar to the stuff I see April do at work” Irma mused, a glint of dejection crossing her. In the next second, it was gone. “What’s your IQ?”

“Of course, your little spy network has-wait” Krang’s eyes widened at the question. “You really want to know?”

“I work for reporters, don’t I? Maybe I could get an exclusive!” Irma beamed. “That is, if you let me go.”

Rocksteady came closer, guilt dressing his face. “Sorry, lady. I dunno if that’ll be happening.”

Bebop practically shook Krang out of his exosuit. “Jus’ hear us out! We was walking toward the labs, when we saw this chick and April O’Neil, so we brought her back as a potato chip. Because we’re so smart!”

Krang knitted his brows. “All we told you was to go and scout out the microchip’s location. We-“ he stopped, then brushed a tentacle over his face with a squelching sound. “It’s bargaining chip, you absolute morons! But, perhaps we can salvage this. I’ll work my magic.”

“Eh, last time wasn’t so bad,” said Irma, “At least you guys feed me. Potato chips sound really-”

“Shush” Krang hissed, massaging his temples.

Like a switch was flipped, Irma scowled, then rolled up her baggy sleeves. “Watch it, blob breath. Don’t make me kick your sorry butt again.”

Bebop and Rocksteady howled with laughter, hands clutching their stomachs and each other.

“I remember that! She got you good!” Bebop chortled, earning a wet slap from Krang.

“968” he interjected, “That’s my IQ. And I was… out of sorts that day.”

“Sure” Irma took a notepad and pen from atop the terminal desk. “Oh boy, this’ll make for a great story for April. It can be my Christmas present to her.”

She didn’t notice the way Krang side-eyed her, electing to say nothing.

Straightening her back, she put on her most professional reporter’s face, pretending for the moment that she wasn’t a secretary. “You’re from Dimension X, right? What’s it like?”

“Haven’t you been there? Well, the temperatures could melt any metal your pitiful planet has to offer” Krang replied, his ego stroked, “Yet the Technodrome that I so brilliantly designed is built to withstand that and more.”

“Right, and what’s it made of?”

“An alloy of my creation.”

She scratched her head with the pen. “Woah. So you’re, like, mega smart. What’re these calculations here?”

Krang rolled his eyes. “I’m not telling you that. It has to do with our-my eventual triumph over the turtles.”

“Okay, okay. Can you at least comment on April O’Neil having evidence which proves you’re disturbing the weather phenomena here in the Arctic?”

Her interviewee became a sputtering mess. The noise he made was a half-gargled squeak, like a wounded party favor.

It caused Irma to look at her notes and wince. “Oops.”

The hulking android body wheeled around, almost knocking her over. In each hand Krang held a mutant in an almost-chokehold. “Bebop. Rocksteady.”

The minions trembled under his fiery grip. “Y-y-yes, Mista Krang?”

“When you kidnapped Ms. Langenstein, which way did April O’Neil go?”

“Uh… to ‘da underground, I think.”

“Then you’re going to New York, and you’re going to find that nasty, nosey reporter before she can open her trap. Understand?”

“B-but, what about Karai?”

As if summoned, the group heard a deep cough in the doorway that Shredder had previously stormed through. The shape of Karai standing near the acid vat, a picture of frozen panic. With nothing but her undershirt and shorts to dress her, it looked like something had stopped her mid-change. Krang’s gaze instantly softened the moment he saw her tight-lipped, wide-eyed look.

“That’s Karai?” Irma cupped her fists together in a squeal. “She’s adorable! I see the resemblance.”

Upon reaching her, Krang saw the far-off look in her eyes. Snapping her back to reality took a couple of tries.

“Sweetie… pumpkin…?” he chirped.

In place of a response she seized his large, flesh-toned arm and held it tight to her chest. Her body poised in a state of cat-like readiness. The shadows on her face stretched long and cold, making it look like her very pupils were trembling.

Krang put on a steely gaze to avoid panicking. “Karai. Tell me what’s wrong, or no television.”

With a weak hand Karai pointed to her shoulder. She gripped the ends of the fabric covering her skin, but stood in place. Fear beaded her forehead, but the look in her eyes was one of desperation to get it over with. With permission, Krang carefully brushed her sleeve down so he could get a look.

A long scar ran up her arm, breaking off into fractals before settling on her upper chest. The mark was fresh, but not bleeding, a shade slightly more crimson than her normal tones. It looked about a day old at the most. Following a clumsy path that dipped into her armpit, it ended with a firework shape that split off into smaller lines. It looked delicate, like the structure of a leaf, like plasma inside a novelty glass orb. Krang opted not to touch it for fear of sensitivity.

“Okay… okay… this is fine” he rubbed her back in circles, “This is normal. Lightning scars are nothing to worry about, not if they don’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t” Karai said, tears welling up. “I’m just…”

Krang watched her catch herself, then shift, slipping into something hollow. She took her hands and smoothed them over her face, breathing in deep through her nose. Her frame seemed to carry that air with her until it reached the top, until she exhaled whatever internal noise was plaguing her. She stood, eyes closed, body no longer tight, but still stiff with the need to appear stronger than she was.

She snapped her eyes open to reveal a face like Shredder’s-collected, but with a particular brightness. She added in a smile that made Krang frown. Shredder only looked like that when he was keeping something locked away inside.

“It’s curious” she said, picking at some dead skin that peeled around the scar’s edges. “Looks like a tattoo. Uncle will kill me.”

Bebop shoved his way into the conversation, Rocksteady in tow. “Cool! It’s like our ones from prison! Wanna see?”

The three of them rolled down their sleeves and compared their marks. The mutants fawned over Karai’s scar more the longer they looked at it. This, at the very least, seemed to make her feel better. Their prisoner helped too, trying to map it out in a drawing in her notepad. As he watched them, Krang still had a sinking feeling. It was hard not to crumble from hearing her explain the painful operation that’d produced her new, permanent, blemish.

Krang let the word sit on his tongue.

Permanent.

Karai stretched, shaking off the last of whatever she wasn’t telling him. Suddenly noticing Irma’s presence, she wrinkled her nose in indignation.

“Krang, who is this?”

Before her uncle could answer, Irma smiled and tripped her way over. “Sorry, I’m Irma, I work at Channel 6. Your uncle… uncles? They kidnap me sometimes.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“Well, I guess it’s only been around twice. How about an exclusive?”

The introduction soon devolved into questions about her scar, her relation to Shredder, and how many backflips she could do in a single sweep. Krang kept trying to worm into the dialogue, alarm boiling into anger at everyone’s acceptance of his niece’s mark-not to mention his orders that they go to New York. When Karai took a long pause to answer if she’d ever seen Revenge of the Samurai Bank Tellers, the alien took her by the hand and led her away. Setting his hands on either shoulder, he looked at her with a worried face.

“Karai…”

“I know. Don’t talk to the prisoners.”

“No. I need to go over something with you.”

They looked at the computer that Krang had been using earlier. Karai strained to read the bright screen containing expanse of numbers and symbols, all in a cross-dimensional language she could only read bits of. She looked back at Krang, puzzled. Krang directed her toward a cluster of equations.

“I’ve been running the results of your blood test from this morning, along with the atmospheric changes around here” he said.

Karai tilted her head. “Shredder said I was fine.”

Krang glimpsed at her scar. “You are, pumpkin, you are. But I feel I should warn you about what’s to come. Describe how you felt when you were sparring with Saki.”

His niece rubbed the back of her neck. She thought for a long time, head swimming with adjectives and adverbs.

“I… only know how to say it in Japanese” she quavered.

Krang’s body rotated toward his keyboard, ready to type. Her words crawled out slowly, riddled with her small doubts about their legitimacy. His robotic fingers clacked patiently.

“Sluggish, like gravity was working against me. I couldn’t feel the cold or the pain that comes with getting struck.”

Krang felt a pang of guilt.

“My hair and clothes were staticky. My body couldn’t move right.” Karai’s voice grew steadier. Each utterance served as growing proof that what she felt was real. “Energy clung to me, like nothing I’d seen before. It came out in an explosion that hurt Shredder."

“Shredder told me about that. Did you vomit again?” Krang replied, seamlessly speaking her mother tongue.

Her downward glance answered him. In the bathroom sink.

Nodding, he wrote a few extra lines and turned back toward her. He snapped his fingers, grabbing Bebop and Rocksteady’s attention. “You two, get her some food. Something bland. Now.”

They looked at each other. “Krang’s Neptunian Stew is pretty bland.”

“A sandwich. Some of my yogurt” he called.

Irma shot up. “Can I come with?”

Krang scoffed and waved them all away. “Raid the whole cabinet, I don’t care. Just come back quickly!”

Watching them go, Karai produced an impish smirk. “There’s an alarm on Krang’s ham supply now. I told him what happened last Thanksgiving.”

“Tattle-tale,” Bebop grunted, “bet she was ‘da one who told Shredder about us ruining his clothes in the washer too.”

“I did.”

“Oh that little-!” Rocksteady began, but Bebop clapped a hand over his mouth. The group ran out before she could get them in any more trouble.

She seemed a little better. Her smile widened when she looked back at Krang. The alien sighed.

“What does all that stuff mean, Krang?” she asked.

He puckered, deep in thought. “You said you don’t remember yesterday, so I’ll say that-”

“I remember now” Karai said, her voice much flatter.

He quickly noted the shift in tone. “You …do?”

“You used a storm to do it, and a conductor.”

“I did. Wait, when did you realize this?”

Karai leaned against the terminal desk. “During my sparring.”

“I see” he responded, mostly talking to himself. “That’s… interesting. It must be tied to emotion…”

“What is?”

Krang started typing furiously, forgetting for a moment to answer her. “When you knocked Shredder back. He informed me you’d essentially electrocuted him. It shot from your hands, and they glowed, correct?”

She nodded. Krang muttered to himself as he crunched the numbers.

“Did your memories return around the time that this release of energy transpired?”

She nodded again. “I guess so. But the effects didn’t last long. I feel numb and buzzy again.”

“It must be a build up of potential energy,” he gasped, “something to do with the way your particles have shifted around. That, and strong emotion must trigger the acceleration of light within yourself, combined with the net force of…”

He trailed off, leaving Karai to her own devices. She rocked back and forth, tapped the metal desk, and made popping sounds with her mouth. Under usual circumstances, this would earn her complaints of a headache from the nearest adult, but Krang hardly seemed to notice this time. She realized the opportunity before her, and made louder sounds. Just like Krang had become lost in his work, so she had started becoming lost in hers. It took Krang slamming his hand on the desk to snap her out of it. She shrieked.

“Karai! Listen very carefully” he started, “before your power reaches its optimal level, it leaves you the way you’ve described in your earlier fight.”

“Yeah…?”

“This is the result of massive energy buildup. A flip is switched when you feel things like extreme anger or joy. Your body acts as a conductive unit to release that energy back out, essentially acting as a reverse lightning rod.”

“Or like a laser blaster.”

“Very good. Though I don’t yet know the full scope of your abilities, this phenomenon seems to be the basis of it. Due to your smallness, however, this will take time to master. Unfortunately, we don’t have that time. An ally of the turtles is no doubt on their way to inform them of my experiment. It’s imperative that you accompany Bebop, Rocksteady, and Shredder to New York at once.”

Karai choked. “N-now?”

“As soon as I can find Shredder, yes.”

The mutants returned with her meal, carrying a few things for themselves as well.

“You’re going to the city?” Irma asked, chomping on a Cheese Danish, “Can I go home then?”

“No” Krang snapped. He found his communicator and shouted into it. “Saki!”

“What now?!” hollered a voice from the other side.

“I’m taking the prisoner to Sector D. You’re going with Karai and the mutants to New York!”

“Oh I am, am I?”

“Yes, Shredder, you are! April O’Neil knows what we’re up to and you’re silencing her before she tells the turtles!”

“And you want Karai to come? Are you sure?”

“We have to wrap up this chapter somehow. You come up with a better idea!”

Now in Karai’s view, Shredder took off what looked like cucumbers on his eyes. He put on a towel, wrapping it hastily around his waist, as well as his kabuto with one satisfying thunk. “Alright alright! Give me a moment and I’ll be there.”

“Um, Shredder?’ Karai urgently leaned over Krang. She placed her sandwich near the keyboard.

“Yes, what is it child?”

“May I speak with you?”

She looked up with pleading eyes. Krang, unable to resist them, handed her the communicator and marched off.

Shredder put on his mask. “Make it quick.”

“I talked to Krang about what happened. Are you still… hurt?”

Her uncle laughed, almost appalled at the suggestion. “No, I’m fine. What did he say?”

“I summoned whatever happened with my emotions, but he tells me I’m not in full control of it yet. If it’s alright, I’d like to refrain from using my powers on our trip.”

“That’s fine. Anything else?”

“I want to practice more, before anything else happens,’ she said, mustering up the courage, “please promise me we’ll make more time before the coming primary mission.”

Shredder didn’t answer at first. He slipped on his shin guards.

“Please,” she repeated, starting to fear he’d carry on without ever responding, something he often did.

Instead, he turned to her and met her eyes. His voice carried with conviction, as brief as his words were. “I promise.”

With that, Karai’s chest felt lighter. She clicked off the device and skipped toward the command center. Bebop and Rocksteady came up beside her.

“We’ll get you back for telling Krang about the ham incident” threatened Rocksteady, playfully nudging her. “Maybe trading a Captain Cow will keep us from tellin’ Shredder about you sneakin’ in some midnight video games.”

Karai laughed, a real laugh, something she hadn’t done for the past 24 hours. It produced some phlegm, but it was still a wonderful feeling.

She landed a punch, barely a tap on his burly arm. “My comics are far too valuable for your grubby mitts. I’m surprised you can even read them.”

“Yeah! She’s got ‘ya there!” Bebop slapped her on her back, a little too hard. When she stumbled forward, still giggling, he gasped. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Please don’t tell ‘da boss-”

Karai punched him too. “I’ll tell him if you can’t take me down!”

Bebop gave her a noogie instead. “Come on, squirt. We gotta get to ‘da transport modules.”

“I’ll get there first!” she cried, breaking out of his hold and dashing down the hallway.

The mutants stood dumbfounded until registering that the black and purple blur was in fact her.

“How did she-darn it!” Rocksteady ran after her.

Bebop followed, hooves thundering across the floor. “Stupid kid!”

The group filtered into the main room, each of them slamming against the nearest transport module before getting scolded. Shredder stood, back to the giant screen the team often used as a portal, arms laced through each other. The three of them stood, waiting for his next command. With one flick of a lever, the screen flashed with blue and indigo tones. It swirled in a whirlpool, beckoning with a silvery tinging sound similar to what Karai had heard out on the cliffs.

“Alright, you three,” Shredder began, clasping his hands together, “Here’s the plan.”