Author's Note:

Normally, I hate fics with OC characters. I've seen too many of them go the Mary Sue route and for that reason I swear off of them. With that said, the controversial writer in me couldn't help but want to use one of my personal OC's as a villain to pit them against the turtles. This fic' explores the events that Leo and his brothers endure when faced with an unnatural mutant that becomes the hinge for world destruction.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The events within this fic' don't follow cannon and are set loosely around season 2 of the TMNT 2012 series.

Cold
Chapter 1: The Fire Rises

There they were. There were three of them below and each completely unaware to the vengeful teenage girl lurking above them in the dark shadows of the old warehouse firescape. A wicked grin maliciously quirked Morgana Wright's lips upward as she softly cracked her half-gloved knuckles. Those Purple Dragon punks would be eating street before the night was over, of that she was sure. No one, no one, picked on her baby sister and got away with it. Not even a dangerous street gang with the combined intelligence of WonderBread. These punks were going to toast, literally.

With a teeth baring grin that darkly promised violence, Morgana vaulted over the grime blackened railing. Only the ear splitting squeal of the age rusted ladder served as warning as she plummeted down towards the unsuspecting thugs. By the time they were aware of her, it was too late. Morgana landed heavily on the broad back of one of the men, using her foot and weight to slam him down harshly onto the gritty back alley concrete, rendering him unconscious.

The two beer drowned goons on either side of her sloppily stumbled back in their drunken stupor, neither having the wits to react smartly to the sight of their unconscious gang mate. With a snort of arrogance, Morgana jumped towards the man to her right, kicking the side of his bulldogish head with her heel. The man to her left finally spurred into action with a sloppy charge towards her. It took little work to upset his already tottering balance and render him unconscious like the others with a kick to his chin and temple.

With a sneer Morgana ungracefully spat at her fallen enemies, cracking her knuckles again, this time in irritation. A punching bag would give a better warm-up than these pathetic goons. She finally had an excuse to dust off her abilities in a fight, to finally unleash herself, and her opponents could be taken out by a few lousy kicks. With a dismissive and frustrated snort, Morgana pushed open the steel door that lead into the abandoned warehouse.

The city may have abandoned the place, the Purple Dragons however had not. Upon entering, Morgana noticed several groups of shady looking men scattered throughout the expansive concrete room, all of whom paused their card games and plotting to slowly turn their heads to her as she confidently strode in with her chin lifted. To them, it was obvious she didn't belong to their mostly male gang- or maybe she just wasn't wearing any of their signature purple paraphernalia. No matter, Morgana thought with a shrug, she wasn't going for stealth anyway.

"Where's my sister's bracelet?" she yelled to the quieting room, her voice carrying an eerie echo through the poorly lit warehouse. The men looked to each other in arrogant amusement and many of them burst into mocking chuckles. At their scoffing, a fire of amusement burned in her charcoal eyes. If they wanted to underestimate her because she was a lone teenage girl, that was their problem- or rather, Morgana intended to make it their problem. The tips of her twitching fingers slowly increased in heat as her frustration rose. Not yet. These punks could all burn, and they would, but not yet. Morgana took several deep calming breaths, mentally counting backwards in an attempt to keep a lid on her volatile temper. Mari's bracelet. She needed to get Mari's bracelet.

"We don't have the bracelet girly." one of the men snickered to her left. Morgana's searing gaze looked to the man bold enough to address her. The thug was a foot taller and wider than she was. A normal girl would've been intimidated by the overgrown tattooed musclehead. Unfortunately for him, Morgana wasn't normal.

"Were you the one who jumped my sister today?" Morgana acidly accused as she turned to face the towering thug who stood several yards away from her. He fit Mari's description well enough, big, tall, ugly, and with an intricate dragon tattoo on his muscular forearm. Her sister hadn't lied about his rotten dumpster stench either.

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't." he shrugged, lifting his palms casually in the air. As he rose his hand, Morgana glimpsed a faint sparkle from a piece of jewelry wound around the man's thumb. It was her sister's bracelet. "What's it to you?" He asked as he casually snubbed his too-many-times-broken nose with his jeweled thumb, deliberately mocking her with a daring challenge sparking like flint in his deeply inset eyes.

Challenge accepted.

With an echoing roar of rage, Morgana's legs ignited into a voluminous sphere of cerulean and white flames, as the concrete beneath her feet melted into a rippling pool of magma. Steam fissured rapidly from the splintering ground as she forced the substance to an unnatural boil. Ear splitting whistles and cracks accompanied the violent transformation as the quaking floor continued to melt around her.

The formally confident thug opposite her shrieked like a newborn with a wet-diaper as he clumsily stumbled backward onto his freshly dampened bottom. Without wasting a beat, Morgana surfed forward on a wave of newly formed magma and commanded it to encircle him. A tiring ache in her muscles reminded her how out of practice she was. It had been months since she last used her mutant abilities, and she was more out of shape than she realized. The thought only added to her compiled frustration and a grumbled curse burbled through her stress clenched teeth.

Mari always did accuse of her of overdoing things, and this was no different. Another swear sounded from under her breath as a electrifying cramp seized her calf, but with great determination, she managed to turn her wince of pain into a dark foreboding scowl.

With a shallow, pained breath that rattled her ribs, Morgana allowed the melted rock to cool as she manipulated around the thug. It would take far too much energy to keep the stuff heated and as much as she wanted to melt the dragons until they were a terrified puddle of piss, in her state, those goals were unreasonable. If this had been several years prior, keeping the magma continuously hot and pliable would have been child's play, but she was not the same girl she was back then.

The hyperventilating thug within the growing circle fearfully mewled like a cat thrown in a pool of water as he twisted his sweat drenched neck to watch the smoking molten rock rise to trap him. With him distracted, Morgana leapt from the ridge of her wave of the now cooling magma and landed onto the lip of the bowl of volcanic rock encasing the man. Without sympathy, she snatched his wrist and jerked him forward to push the bracelet upwards so it slipped off his thumb. His wide beady eyes met hers and a dark satisfaction settled in her chest as she registered the chilling fear in them. The fear of her opponent was a heady drug that did little to shrink her ego. With a life than normally left her powerless, to once more experience this rush was far from incredible.

It was divine.

After a moment to savor the exhilarating high that her power brought, Morgana slipped the pink jeweled bracelet snuggly onto her wrist.

"W-what are you?" stammered the thug as he pointed a shaking accusatory finger in her direction.

Her brow twitched to a borderline hysteric scowl as she turned her molten gaze to glare at his shivering face. Once more her lips quirked upwards with a dry humorless smile. "A monster." she answered hoarsely, unable to keep the cynical pain that accompanied the age old label.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, Morgana reheated the stone until it encased the man fully until it formed into an ominous black stone egg. Within the rock the man began to scream, more out of fear than anything. Morgana rolled her eyes in annoyance at his pathetic protests. He was trapped, but he wasn't dying. Long ago she resolved to refrain from killing. With her abilities, such an act would be as easy as breathing.

To ensure the guy wouldn't suffocate from the noxious fumes Morgana opened a line of fist sized holes on the surface of the stone egg, allowing his shrieks for help to reverberate through the fear silenced room. Morgana lifted her wrist to inspect the bracelet, if only to give her overworked muscles a chance to momentarily recoup. The bracelet was hers, and with the show she gave them, these thugs probably wouldn't bother her or her sister again. That was good enough. The magma pooling at her feet cooled as did the embers that once encased her. After a quick glance over at herself, she quickly found the singe marks on the sleeves and hem of her fitted black T-shirt in addition to the burned fabric of the cuffs on her khaki cargo pants. With an inward groan, Morgana noted that she was definitely out of practice.

After a sulky frown at the degradation of her abilities and less than satisfactory performance, Morgana walked through a thick cloud of soot rich smoke and by manipulating the hot air, forced the ash clouds to billow ominously around her. The display was meant to intimidate but also to distract her onlookers from her stiff movements and soft limp.

Her tiring magma abilities wouldn't be worth a FriendSpace like if all 50 something guys in the room decided to gang up on her. Morgana may have been rash, but she wasn't stupid. She knew her limits–

"Y-you think you're going to get out of here alive?" stammered one pitifully brave soul.

–thought she knew her limits.

Darkly, she tilted her cheek in his direction letting her lengthy tic-tac-orange hair hide her unfocused expression. "If you ever bother my sister or my family again..." she threatened acidly as she raised her palm to face one of the cranes against the wall. For a moment, nothing happened and worry briefly seized her thoughts when she couldn't sense any heat infiltrating the worn metal. However just as time painstakingly crawled to the point of embarrassment, the steel crane began to gradually glow like the heating eye of an electric stove.

The melting bolts holding the crane up groaned as it started to tip forward towards the ground. The thugs yelled to one another as scrambled with haste to escape the path of the drooping molten metal. The crane fell with a deafening crack as it shattered the concrete floor, effectively separating her from the gang. With a last push of strength that caused her knees to buckle, Morgana forced the steel to melt until it turned searing white with enough heat to ignite any nearby crates, paper or other flammable surface. The thugs shouted and shrieked, many of them staring at her with bowel wrenching terror in their slackjawed expressions. Her work here was done.

Upon stepping outside, a cool summer night breeze brought fresh air to her sulfur filled lungs. A rattled sigh sent a thick cloud of steam through her lips. Morgana watched tiredly as it dissipated, only to be replaced by the steam rolling from her cooling skin. With the intake of fresh air, Morgana realized she smelled like rotten eggs jammed into a smokestack at a steel mill.

A choked laugh at her luck and lack of foresight sent pain like thousands of needle pricks through her overworked limbs. Between the steam, the smell, and the burnt edges of her clothes there was no way she'd be able to travel safely through the streets without question. There was also no way she'd be able to hide her excursions from her ever watchful mother.

After a moment of rest, Morgana chose to gingerly work her way up the firescape to travel via rooftop. Thankfully the buildings were close enough that such travel was possible and from what she could tell, there already was a highway of sorts already established between the buildings made with boards, poles and other common hardware items.

Her watch beeped noisily on her wrist and alerting her to her impending curfew. An audible groan escaped her throat. In her sorry state, it would be impossible to get home before 10pm. At this point there was an extremely high risk of being grounded. Morgana lifted her wrist to view the sparkling bracelet. A warm grin of satisfaction brightened her cooling cheeks.

Grounded, but worth it.