Could this be? A new story? And on my birthday too! 16 years old, woo!^^ It's like a present from myself... to myself? :D I initially started this story with no aim whatsoever, but then as I started going, everything just started opening up to me. Ah, I love new stories. So many directions to go. Anyway, I'll stop wasting your time. If any of you have ever seen the 2003 series, I'll bet you'll recognize a character I'm bringing in. Oh this will be fun indeed...


There was a teetering moment at the edge of the New York City building as heel met soaked rooftop, and Leonardo found himself hydroplaning forward. Though he trained under heavy discipline to avoid panic, he couldn't resist the flare in the pit of his stomach.

It had happened in the split of a second. His heel found the end of the roof and the ball of his foot bashed against the roof trimming. Inertia was a con. He found his gaze fixed straight down to the alley below. With a yelp, he attempted to kick away from his supposed death, his arms spread out without any other use. His toes scraped off the edge as he began to plummet into the darkness between the buildings, surrounded by the heavy rain.

His belt strap snapped taught, pulling him backwards in the spare seconds between life and death. Though later he'd criticize himself for being so overdramatic, he felt that was an accurate feeling within the moment. It was at least a forty foot drop to the bottom. If he hadn't died, he surely would have been fatally injured. But suddenly, the alley was gone and his shell hit the rooftop, his eyes fixating upwards. Above him, Donatello looked down at him with a less-than-amused look, and the rest of his vision was filled with rainclouds. He squinted his eyes, blinking several times as rainwater poured onto his face. "And once again, I have to point out that it's obviously too dangerous to run in these conditions." Was Donnie's sour reply. His hand embraced his staff neatly locked beneath his knuckles, one end against the wet rooftop. His other hand was outstretched, palm up, towards his older brother. Leo grimaced, embarrassed as he took his brother's hand and pulled himself up.

Once on his feet, Leo opened his mouth to reply, but Donnie cut him off, feeling a sense of authority for having known better. "Even the purple dragons wouldn't risk trying anything right now. Besides, a lot of the pedestrians are indoors. Face it, Leo, it was a waste of time and effort coming out here." His voice was partially raised to be heard over the storm. Leo wouldn't put it past him to bring it up as another reason not to come outside today. A crack of white split the sky, and a deafening sound filled the air.

Raph was leaning against one of the roof sheds, his arms crossed in front of him. His head was down, defensive against the rain. "Come on, let's just go already." He grumbled impatiently.

"No." Leo finally cut in sternly, narrowing his eyes. "As masters of adaptation, we need to learn how to fight properly in the darkest and nastiest of conditions."

The rain was coming heavy and, surprisingly, getting heavier by the second. Raph huffed in frustration. Kicking off the roof shed, he narrowed his eyes and untangled his arms. "So what? We keep running all night until one of us manages to fall? Because that's smart."

"I'm trying to prepare us-"

"Um... earth to bros! Come in bros! Are you guys deaf or something?"

All three turned their heads to their youngest brother, whose arms were wide with frustration. Even in the rain, they could see him planted at the edge of the rooftop. He gave a dramatic sigh, dropping his arms and letting them hang at his side. "Finally. Y'know, it's hard getting your attention sometimes. Especially when you're fighting." He pointed at them, and Raph narrowed his eyes. Mikey remembered what he was going to say, and added in cooly, "How about you guys stop fighting for a minute and look?"

He turned around at that point and crouched at the edge of the roof. His three brothers exchanged confused glances before approaching Mike, kneeling beside him to see for themselves.

It was difficult to see through the kicked-up mist, but at the corner of the street, they were just barely able to make it out. A man with four young teens at his side were leaving a small, family-owned shop. Their duffle bags and backpacks were full and bulky, and they wore ripped jackets with their hoods up, concealing their identities. The ninjas watched with careful eyes. They rounded the corner, vanishing into an alley on the right, and Leo straightened up. "Definitely suspicious. Come on guys, let's go check it out." He ordered, taking off down the row of buildings with his brothers at his heels.


"Any sign of them yet?"

The second oldest pressed his back against the wall, panting heavily as strings of his hair fell over his eyes. The rain wasn't helping. "Not yet." He responded, spitting as rain slipped into his lips.

The female raised her head in mock disappointment. "I thought they were supposed to be the heroes of the city or somethin'." She crossed her arms, ducking her head back into her hoodie. Her dufflebag was held close to her chest, fat with money and valuable posessions. "We've already been through four different places in two nights, and there's still no sign of 'm." The woman bore a heavy Brooklyn accent.

The oldest man chuckled. "I knew they weren't special. Just a bunch of average vigilantes." He straightened, closing his eyes and lifting his head to the rain. "I'm getting too old for this kid's stuff. Robbing little kiddy gift shops and whatnot."

"You wanted to come, don't forget." The oldest of the teens pointed out, his voice deep. His bangs fell over his eyes, rain dripping from the ends, and he made no motion to brush them away. "If you want to bail now and let us take care of it, then that's your buisness. We still get paid either way."

"Nah, I'm staying." He grinned to himself, avoiding the burning gazes of his accomplices. "I want to see these freaks with my own eyes before the others get their hands on them. Besides, someone's gotta keep you and your little gang in check, Kal."

Kalmon ignored him. "Blazer," The oldest teen spoke with question. "Where's the next site?"

"Two blocks down. Justin's Antiques." Blazer answered, looking down at his phone. He concealed the screen under the edge of his jacket, attempting to shield it from the rain and backlashing water.

"Alright." Kal came off the wall, standing straight up with newfound strength. He opened his mouth to speak, turning to face his allies, when a green form broke through the rain and wrapped an arm over his mouth. He was unable to scream as he was yanked into the darkness, his hands outstretched in attempt to catch something.

The other gang members tensed, getting their weight back onto their own two feet in battle-ready stances with pure horror. "They're here!" The youngest exclaimed in horror. As the female and second oldest pitched into battle, the youngest dropped his pack and began to rummage through it for his knife. His hand grabbed the handle. With hesitation, the boy entered his first battle with his small weapon raised for battle.

The man with the dark coat retreated to the corner of the alley, watching the fight from the shadows. The rain screwed his vision, but it didn't matter for the marksman. With a gun held at his shoulder, he closed one eye and focused, kneeling down. There at one end, a red masked one was fighting Tallie, the female of the gang. She raised a punch, to which was blocked, and the mutant swept his feet to knock her down. With her out of the way now, the man had a perfect shot. And with a quick release of the trigger, the tranquilizer hissed through the air and embedded in the thigh of the mutant.

A hiss of alarm, and the red one lifted his gaze to the item now imbedded in his skin. Then, slower this time, his gaze shifted to the shadows where the man was kneeling. For a few precious seconds, he stood wavering on his feet. Cole, the second oldest of the group, came from behind and landed a heavy blow to the ninja's head from behind. Too disoriented already to block or avoid the attack, the turtle's eyes closed and gravity took hold. With a sick thud, the first dropped. Tallie kicked back to her feet, spitting at the animal with disgust before flipping around. Now, the war was three on four.

"Raph!" A voice cut through the sound, and a purple one leaped with incredible height through the thick battle. His jump cleared him over the heads of the fighters, grace flowing through his motion. Landing with one foot on each side of the unconscious body with beautiful form, he raised a large stick with strong hands, holding it with visible power and strength. Truly remarkable, the man thought as he studied them. They had the voices and actions of humans, with the sick green color of a disgusting form. He couldn't wait to get his hands on them...

One of the gang members charged, and with amazing skill, the stick was twirled and knocked Cole to the ground. Another clear shot, indeed. As the purple one turned his head to look over his fallen buddy, the man in the shadows pulled the trigger.

The purple one let out a small cry of surprise, looking down at his arm where the tranq was sticking through the skin. He shook his head and staggered to the side. "Leo! Mike! Tranqs!" He warned over the sound of the rain, his words slurring. Crap, the man thought. Now he had to hurry or they might try to make a get away. The purple one began to move, grimacing visibly in his attempts to stay awake. Then as Cole swept his feet through the purple one's feet, he dropped, his head and arm landing on the red one's shell. The man turned his gun to face the two remaining.

The blue's expression was that of horror mixed with anger. He looked down at his two fallen comrades, leaping with brandishing swords. Whipping around in attempt to keep up, it was almost difficult for the man to aim at him. But moving targets were what he trained for. Without another word, he pulled the trigger, and the small needle whizzed through the rain, heading straight to meet his target. It sank in the blue's shoulder, his inertia bringing him to the ground with a startled cry. His swords flew from his hands with a clang, and they slid across the ground. "Mikey, get out of here!" Came his slurred call, and the man could tell this one was attempting to stand up once more. His hands were shoved under him, and his head was down. The man could see him blink several times, and then began to stand. But, there was no point in worrying. Especially when the turtle staggered sideways, his arms flailing out as he fell.

The drug was far too strong to resist. He made sure of that. The blue one was finally down, and the gang members encircled the one known as Mikey. The orange one was whipping his body around, looking from one gang member to the next with terror. He seemed frozen to the spot, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. He was already in the scope of the man's gun. And then with a cry, Mikey leaped up with flying nun-chucks, taking down Tallie and Kal in the same moment. Leaping over them and fighting with his back to his friends, his innocent expression was faced with pure determination. Tallie rose, Kal cringed, and the youngest charged first, knife rasied.

With amazing speed, the orange one dodged with a handstand on the youngest shoulders, grabbing him under his armpits and flinging his weight over his head with a quick turn. The man with the gun almost felt like sitting back and watching, deep appreciation given to such skill. They were never going to fight like this again, after all. But then as Mikey began to overrun his hired gang members, he raised the gun. And with a single fire, the tranq hit it's target just above the knee. "No!" Mikey called, his nun-chucks dropping as he looked down at the needle. He was breathing heavier, starting to panic. But then, his eyes rolled and he fell on his shell, his gaze facing the sky.

The man with the gun rose. "Took you long enough." Tallie retorted, narrowing her eyes from where she was getting to her feet. A thin blood line seeped from the corner of her mouth, and she used her sleeve to wipe her chin.

A scoff. "Thought I'd let the little guy have some hope." He smiled devilishly. As his gang members picked themselves up from the ground, Bishop straightened his jacket and hid his expression under his hood. "Let's get them and go. We have a project to begin."