It was finally happening. Leo knew that one day it would, but he'd tried to not think about it; for his brothers' sakes as well as his own. But now, at the age of seventeen, that fate was inevitable. In fact, it was right in front of him. He was standing in a grey, barren wasteland, surrounded by snarling, blood-hungry demons. Everything was grey: the sky, the earth, the enemies and their floating ships. Leo was standing back to back with his brothers, trying desperately to think of a way out, but all that was in his head was, "I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this…" Rain poured down from the heavens, soaking the uncountable foes and Leo and his brothers. They were, as far as he knew, the only ones to survive the destruction of NYC. America, it seemed, was finally falling. The military had been completely wiped from the face of the planet. Washington DC was the first city to go. Its citizens lay murdered on the streets, and the people of New York followed fast behind. Among the slaughtered were April and Casey, and the brothers' own beloved master, Splinter. Liquid ran in rivulets down Leo's face, and he wasn't sure if it was rain, tears or blood. Blood. He'd seen so much of it that day. Who knew that one person could hold so much. Blood. His brothers were covered with it. Blood. Death. Murder. Fear. The city was rank with it. Leo remembered Splinter, lying on a sidewalk, bleeding his life away on a sidewalk, telling them to flee the city. "You must…leave." Gasping and coughing blood, he'd dragged himself to his feet. "Go. Get out of the city. Run away, don't hold your ground." He'd then slumped again to the dirty, bloody concrete, leaving a red stain on the graffiti-covered brick wall. Leo had been unable to tear his eyes away from the gaping red hole in his beloved master's chest, and the blood pumping out of it had slowed. No. Leo couldn't afford to think of that now. His brothers needed him. Splinter was gone. They'd left him then, and run out of the massive city, only to find barren, grey mud as far as the eye could see, and demons enough to cover it completely. With even more enemies rushing them from the city, it was all they could do to make a final stand.

The demon warlord smiled grimly with one mouth while the other licked its horrible lips, exposing long teeth filed to razor points. "City by city; nation by nation, planet by planet; galaxy by galaxy, the world will fall. And we will be there to take it all when it does. Nothing and no one can stand in my way." it growled harshly. This would be normal speech to any demon of its type, but to a human it was a combination of clicks, choking and screeches. Rather like something off Star Wars, except far more dangerous and far more ugly. Just then, the warlord's second-in-command approached it and bowed low. "My lord." It then waited for its commander to answer it. The demon superior waited a satisfying length and then turned. "Have we taken the city?" it grated. The second-in-command nodded, grateful that it was true. If had not been, the warlord's wrath would've been terrible to behold, and all of it taken out on its inferior. "Great lord, all is as you predicted," it said pleasantly, though there was nothing pleasant about its language. "But for one thing. Four survivors are putting up a fight. They stand on a hill of bodies and they are there now. I thought to consult you before putting them out of their misery." Upon hearing this, the demon warlord began to pace agitatedly. "Did I not give the order to destroy all humans? Why then have you defied me?!" it roared angrily. The second-in-command cowered in the face of its master's wrath. "Because, my lord, they are not…human." It held up a device on which was an image of the four survivors. The warlord would have raised an eyebrow if it had one, but it was nevertheless impressed. "Bring them before me. Alive and relatively unharmed."

Raphael bared his teeth in a feral grin and swiped his sais at a demon who stepped to close, catching it neatly under the chin. He was not thinking clearly; his mind was clouded by grief, fury and hopelessness. Splinter was dead; April and Casey were dead; he and his brothers were not far behind. Death had never been something Raph had considered before. He'd always felt invincible, untouchable. Yet now fate loomed up in his face, and there was no choice but to meet it head on or die a coward. Glancing around at his brothers, he knew that despair was taking over their minds too. Mikey was no longer standing, nun-chucks poised to kick butt, but he was kneeling in the mud, the blood, the sweat and the tears, a glazed expression fixed on his young face. Mikey should never have been allowed to see all the horrors they'd experienced that day. And Donnie, always the one to make peace, on his last legs, bo staff drooping, covered in blood, one eye shut and encrusted with blood. He'd always said that he was scared of nothing, always been the one to think them out of bad situations. Even he couldn't see a way out. Not today. Today, it seemed, if somewhat ironically, the bad guys win and the good guys lose. And Splinter wasn't going to help them. All Raphael could see was Splinter's battered and bruised body as he gasped the names of his long-dead wife and child, Tang-Shen and Niwa. All he could hear was Splinter's cries for him and his brothers to run, to never stand, but to hide. All he could feel was the unbearable loss and the knowledge that Splinter was dead. And he was never coming back. Something snapped inside Raphael then, something irreplaceable. His body no longer belonged to him, his mind was not his own and his heart was too broken and crushed beyond hope to be anyone's. He heard a loud, keening wail so full of pain and despair that he wanted to cover his ears, before he realized the voice was his own. His legs threw him at the demons and his arms stabbed left, right and centre. He was surrounded by shrieks and howls of pain as nearby demons felt the brunt of his fury. He faintly heard someone shout for him to come back, but he was not going to die waiting for the enemy to make the first move. Not today. Today, it seemed, he would die, but he would take as many of the foul demon horde with him as he could kill. Raphael had always been the one to throw the first punch, and he wasn't about to let a few thousand ugly faces change that. As he whirled unstoppably through the shrieking army, he spotted a much larger demon in bright colours making its way through the crowd toward his brothers. With a yell of rage he sliced his way toward it, to kill it before it got close to his brothers. It turned and noticed him before he was close enough to cut its loathsome head from its shoulders. It shouted at the nearby demons in its harsh language and instantly they grabbed at his arms. He yelled his loss to the sky and sent at least a dozen and a half back into the abyss before they finally pinned him down. A chain wrapped around his neck, cutting of his air supply. Choking and gasping, he cursed the demons as the dark closed in. And, right before it took over completely, he was heard to whisper, as the fight left him, "I'm sorry, Master Splinter. I failed you."

Leo watched helplessly as his brother's unstable temerity turned into violent, revenging madness. He knew why Splinter had chosen him to be leader rather than any of his younger brothers. Because someone had to be able to carry burdens far beyond his own, and yet keep them entirely to himself. He knew that they had no idea of what he had to bear, and it was best kept that way. Leo felt Donatello, Michelangelo and Raphael unknowingly pour their pain onto him, yet he kept his face hard and unrelenting, because he knew if he betrayed the slightest bit of what he truly felt, his brothers would go to pieces. Something in Leo broke when Raph snapped, and he wanted to leap to his rash brother's aid. But if he had, that would've meant leaving Donnie and Mikey defenceless. Leo's resolve nearly gave way when he saw the demon second-in-command making its way toward him, but just then, Donnie gave in and slumped to the ground, where he lay unmoving. Leo stepped protectively in front of his fallen brothers, gritted his teeth, summoned all remaining strength and raised his swords.

The second-in-command watched the young warrior curiously as he stepped between it and his brothers. He wouldn't go down without a fight, but the warlord's instructions had been clear. The survivors were to be brought to the ship alive and conscious, although only one of them had retained both of those states of being. And he was on the verge of collapse. The second-in-command knew a little of each human language- enough to tell the young warrior that he was being taken to the warlord. "You are to come before my lord. No questions. Follow me." it muttered and choked darkly. The second-in-command turned on its heel and strode back through the masses.

Leo stared vaguely after the retreating figure of the second-in-command. It occurred to him that he and his brothers were being taken captive. He stood there for a moment, uncomprehending, the ends of his swords trailing weakly in the mud and the rain, the sweat and the blood poured down his exhausted face. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks to join the mud on the wasted ground. Leo fell to his knees and he realized that, for now, he didn't have to fight, his brothers were safe, and he could stop. No, he thought, I can't stop. I won't stop. A hero doesn't stop, he keeps going until he wins, and I haven't won. Yet. I will save my brothers, defeat this nemesis and avenge Master Splinter. Leo's eyes narrowed and his head came up. He knew what he would do, and he hoped that it would work. He tenderly scooped up Mikey and draped Donnie over his broad shoulders. Then, step by strengthening step, he followed the warlord's second-in-command.