In the near future, corporate laboratories reach out across our world. Mutagen surges within the cells of almost all living things.

The advance of mutagenic modification, however, has not wiped out nations and species, as well as cultural and ethnic groups.


Location: New York City

Time: Evening

The night was live with the sounds of voices and vehicles as the city of New York went on with its unending routine. It had always been known by the world as 'the city that never sleeps,' and as technology progressed, it would proceed to be an even more sleepless city. Out of every city in the world, it stood nearly at the apex in the field of genetic engineering, architecture, and other technological achievements. There was also the account of an increased population with a vast array of physical diversity. When it came to all those qualities combined, this city stands at the top of the hierarchy of global society, though that spot is shared equally with Tokyo, Japan. The towering buildings of various cubes, rectangles, prisms, and cylinders were dressed in the colorful lights of animated advertisements, so much that they are almost holographic. Other designs that reflected the creativity of their builders were not limited by space, but were adapted to stand together with the older buildings at any level. Even gardens, preserves, playgrounds, and other institutions and settlements with wide open spaces could be found anywhere above ground-level.

However, what made New York truly unique was that a significant chunk of its citizens were mutants. While most of the world remained populated mainly by humans, New York was among the first cities to make history by elevating the citizenship status of mutants. Mutants of all species of various shapes and sizes walked the streets of this light-saturated metropolis. Ones that began life as animals could go out in public under the sky without fear of any sort of retribution. Even other humans were free to make the decision to become mutants, celebrating it as an optional, but brand new stage of life. Together, all of them provided the colorful diversity that allowed New York to make its title of "the world's cultural center" greater than it has ever been.

Inevitably and unfortunately, with its boundless diversity came less desirable elements. Even among the burgeoning skyscrapers and interwoven roads that stood one over the other in every direction, it could not erase all of its old imperfections but only veil them for a time. Truth be told, whether human or mutant, there are those who seek out the shadows as much as they take contentment in the light. That is why the innocent are indebted to those willing to stand guard in those shadows.

It was one night that two helicopters were flying overhead, passing over a ring of towers near Manhattan overlooking the Upper Bay, flying somewhere in the direction of Ellis and Liberty Island. On the edge of a rooftop of one tower, a young redheaded girl in a trench-coat was in a kneeling position, an expression of deep thought present on her face. At the moment, she was sifting through a torrent of voices that streamed through her mind all at once. Words over words in many different languages, voices that belonged to so many creatures of different flesh, the girl passed up each and every one of them until her concentration shifted to a louder and more distinguished man's voice that sounded like that of a lax authority figure.

"There's no need for concern. Our country is quite capable of covering its tracks."

Another voice, one that sounded younger and more self-conscious like that of a younger man, spoke up, "That's why you need me, right?"

"Depends on how you look at it. At any rate, every specimen has its defects and I would think that a man of your capability could cure our problem."

"You don't understand. We aren't even sure that Project 4522 really is defective. Originally, the purpose of this project was to-"

"Major O'Neil. The Oroku-Division is in position and ready to move in. Major, are you there?"

"Yeah, I heard you, Raph."

"I'm surprised you can hear anything. What's with all that noise in your brain today?"

The redhead fiddled with her short ponytail and emitted a faint sigh. "Just going through my routines."

The redheaded girl, or rather Major O'Neil, proceeded to stand up, keeping just a few inches away from the edge. She unbuttoned the hem on her coat and opened it to reveal a tracksuit underneath. Both the shirt and pants were completely black with a single yellow stripe going down the sides of both legs and sleeves. The sleeves were folded upward to reveal her forearms and the collar was slightly unbuttoned to show a hint of a white t-shirt.


"Don't you think there's gonna be trouble later if the Oroku guys find out we butt into their business?"

A stocky green humanoid turtle with a red mask around his eyes maintained a smug expression on his face. He answered his human partner casually while leaning on the inner wall of a large vehicle with one hand. "If Oroku actually catches the bastard, then all they can really do is deport him. Don't forget we're the Hamato-Division. We'll clean it up. We're the ones who get our hands dirty."

The human rolled his eyes at the red-masked turtle's answer. He appeared to wear almost black all over, perhaps to complement the black hair on his head; the attire was mainly comprised of a grey t-shirt with dark brown sleeves under a black sleeveless hoodie, along with grey denim pants, black and white shoes, and a black headband with intricate white patterns. Leaning back against the same wall his red-masked terrapin partner was on, he turned his head to another person sitting at a computer screen.

"It's time now. Let's move to the pickup point."

The giant vehicle that almost seemed like a subway car on monster truck wheels rumbled and rolled away from the curb.


Back on the rooftop, Major O'Neil finished packing in a few 4-pointed metal stars into a small pouch strapped to her leg before flipping the top closed. She stood back up for a short moment until she felt she was ready. Then, she slowly turned around and let gravity pull her down. Gracefully, she fell from the rooftop on her back and as she began to flip back from upside-down to upright, she maintained a focused expression. Her backflip occurred in an instant, and as she continued to fall, she threw out a line that grappled onto a nearby ledge.


Meanwhile within the building itself, black clad soldiers were making their way up to the floor where the meeting Major O'Neil spied on was taking place. The lax authority figure, who surprisingly looked more like a fat man in a suit, was busy helping himself to a chicken leg while sitting on his lounge chair. He still conversed with the other younger man, but he still appeared to show a little more investment in his pleasure. But he was interrupted as one of his suited bodyguards went up to him to whisper in his ear.

"What? The Foot here?" he exclaimed, causing the younger man next to him to rise off his seat in panic. The bodyguard, along with his other partner, crouched at the exit door and readied their guns. Giving each other a signal, they flipped the door open and fired their guns on the coming soldiers, even bringing down a few of them.

"Stop it!" the fat man yelled angrily, abruptly standing up. "Who told you to fire? Put your guns down now!" Upon these words being spoken, more of the black clad soldiers charged into the room through another existing pair of doors. The soldiers who weren't shot poured through the door the guards initially opened fire in and quickly subdued them. The fat man and his younger thinner compatriot were quickly surrounded, but the fat man wasted no time putting his authority to work. "I am Dominic Vizioso. I'm entitled to diplomatic immunity," he exclaimed, presenting them his identification while holding on to his chicken leg. "I want to talk to the person in charge here." Upon speaking these words, the soldiers parted to allow their leader to come through to meet him.

The leader in question appeared to be fairly tall. Unlike the fat man, he was thin, but at the same time, he was well-built. He wore a helmet that had a three-pronged adornment at the front, with a metal face plate covering all of his face except for his eyes attached to the helmet. He had a metallic breastplate that was covered in a scaly pattern and a pair of dark pants complementing his metallic boots. His upper arms were completely exposed while his forearms were fitted with gauntlets that held retractable blades. Anyone who'd look this man in the eyes might endure a terrified shiver as he exhumed an aura of harshness and a lack of compromise. Almost no one would be daring enough to test if his look was legitimately threatening or blusteringly extravagant on his part.

"Oroku Saki," the fat man muttered in recognition with an exasperatedly low voice.

"Taking classified geneticists out of the country compromises national security, Mr. Vizioso," the armored man known as Saki spoke to the other with a baritone voice that sounded out an air of authority exceeding that of Vizioso's. "You can also be brought up on kidnapping charges. You have no choice. Let him go."

"Not possible," Vizioso objected curtly. "Doctor Farrell wants political asylum from us, and we have his signed affidavit."

"What?" Saki growled under his face plate.

"I don't have to explain. My country has the right in accordance with international law to offer anyone protection and safe passage." As Vizioso spoke, he waved his chicken leg around nonchalantly in a snide manner. "The affidavit is at the embassy. I'll send a copy to your head administration in a couple of days."

"Vizioso, do not go through with this. If you do, you will be detained and prosecuted upon returning here."

"I'm warning you to watch your comments." Vizioso shot back. He straightened his posture and readjusted his tie. "You should know: our country is a peace-loving democracy."

"Of course it is!"

Both Saki and Vizioso stiffened at the sound of a sudden unknown voice that came out of nowhere, swinging around to the window which had a holographic display of fish projected on the glass. Immediately, the window shattered only for Vizioso to suddenly fly into the wall back first. Some of the black clad soldiers with Saki saw that Vizioso had been pinned to the wall by what seemed to be throwing stars lodged through his sleeves, jacket hems, and pant-legs. A split second after, the stars suddenly exploded with a white smoke, and when the smoke dissipated, revealed Vizioso covered in a slimy adhesive substance while remaining stuck to the wall. It would appear to the Oroku-division that if they were planning on arresting Vizioso on the spot, someone just saved them the trouble of actually detaining him themselves. But any notion of gratitude did not mean much in the heat of the moment. Since the exploding cloud of smoke happened to knock Oroku Saki off his feet, he had to get himself back upright.

"The window! Attack!" Saki yelled to his Foot soldiers as he got his bearings. The Foot soldiers in turn threw out stars of their own, aiming at the entire row of windows. The thrown stars managed to shatter every pane of glass besides the one that the mysterious attacker launched stars through to incapacitate Dominic Vizioso. Saki shortly dashed to the now glassless window with his gauntlet blades unsheathed. A few other Foot soldiers quickly followed alongside Saki with their bladed weapons drawn as he got to the window's edge. He looked down just in time to spot the mysterious assailant falling down rapidly to the streets below from where he stood. As his eyes lingered upon the person, that person (with her red hair and black tracksuit) took out a smoke bomb and crushed it in her hand, releasing a puff of smoke. The cloud of smoke left behind was thick, but it quickly began to disperse. Any Foot soldier present would have concluded that she performed the standard ninja's disappearing act, but Saki took the time to watch her a little longer. Narrowing his vision to look past the smoke screen, he could spot the redhead beginning to blend into the busy streets he was viewing from above. It seemed like she was becoming more and more transparent, and the rippling texture occurring on her body made him do a double take, not limited to blinking extra hard. But his eyes did not fool him, for that was exactly what the redheaded girl was trying to do.

"I don't believe it," Saki whispered in amazement, "psionic camouflage."

The redhead was looking up right back at him, and she gave a mischievous smile as she waved her camouflaged hand over her still-visible face, which then became invisible like the rest of her body as soon as her hand finally passed over.


*Suzu bells ringing*