Prologue
"Uuuugh, where am I?" Michelangelo woke to the dull, painful throbs at the back of his head. From his semi-conscious state he picked up the fact that he was in a well lit area. Sunshine shimmered through his eyelids as a circle of unidentifiable shadows bobbed above him.
". . . and it just, fell from the sky!" came a shrilled voice among the growing chatter.
"Did you see that, he saved that little boy!" said another,
"Whatever it is, it ain't human!"
"Someone call the police!"
Who's that talking? What were they going on about? These questions struggled through the young turtle's concussed brain. The stone cold dread that had been brewing from the moment of his awakening suddenly shot up exponentially. At once Mikey snapped into rationality. Everything came flooding back along with the pain that nearly doubled. Yes, he'd just been on the way home after a secret nightly crusade as Turtle Titan. Only made it across four rooftops before noticing a young boy had wandered into oncoming traffic. And then there was his rash but heroic dive, scooping up the kid just in time and the grappling hook breaking off. . .
"Oh no!" he cried unintentionally as he sprung up, causing the gathering crowd around him to step back in alarm. There were three things Mikey recognised about the situation, one; that some guy infront of him had taken his superhero cape and mask, two; that for the duration of his unconsciousness he'd been lying flat on his back on full display to the public and three; he'd screwed up big time.
"Uh, n-nothing to see here people, I'm just a normal guy going to a fancy dress party!" he stammered, breaking out in cold sweat. A sea of dumbfounded faces stared back at him.
"Eeeek! It talks!" a woman shrieked. Okay, strategy obviously not working. Quick how do I distract them? Mikey thought desperately, trying to ignore the heavy wound he sustained during his fall. Wait, the grappling hook, do I still have the grappling hook?
The sound of sirens erupted a distance behind the crowd, that was all diversion a trained ninja turtle needed. Quick as greased lightning Michelangelo was already several feet up in the air before most people had a chance to turn their heads. The crowd gasped and pointed as the strange creature who fell out of the sky disappeared in a flash over the scattered rooftops of Manhattan. A few miles away below ground, another young turtle in purple clad had just split his coffee over the morning news. "Um guys? Master Splinter? I think you'd better come see this. . ."