I'm sorry I broke all your hearts last week. I expect to break them some more this week, too.

Next week is the last chapter of Act 6 and then we'll be onto 7. And, just so you know? Act 7 takes this stuff up to a completely new level. If you have trouble with cliff-hangers, you might want to wait before reading on for a little while. Like, until chapter 1 of Act 8, maybe. It'll be safer then. Kinda. You know. Some.

I do want to tell you that I wrote the key scene in this chapter before I'd even finished Act 2, I think. Everything's been leading here, and it's all pointed to the end. And every bit of it matters.

Which, I think, only makes it tougher for all of you.

I'm sorry again. But not sorry enough not to do it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Wrong

Donatello opened his eyes slowly.

"Greetings, Donatello."

It took him a moment for his disorientation to fade. As his thoughts and memories slotted themselves back into place, he focused on using the sponge waiting beside him to sluice off the gel in which he had been suspended. He also checked his wrists and ankles, but there were no abrasions as usual.

Suddenly an image rose in his mind – recent events crashing to the forefront of his thoughts.

Donatello threw the sodden sponge with violence.

"You killed them! Why? How could you?"

"Donatello, I am very sorry. One of them was infiltrating my programming and attempting to prevent me from protecting you from the ones that came to retrieve you. I could not allow anyone to interfere."

Don buried his face in his hands. "They're gone. You killed them."

"Not all of them. It was unavoidable that the two life-signs and one android were destroyed, but it appears the android managed to spare the others by porting them directly into an escape pod. I did not interfere with them after that."

Donatello said nothing, but he began to cry.

"Donatello. Your stress levels are rising dangerously. You are flooding your body with compounds that impact rational thought."

That brought Don's head up, his face wet with tears and flushed. "Of course I am! You killed…" He sucked in a breath. "Look, I can't deal with you right now. I can't…"

"Have my actions changed the agreement between us?"

"I don't know!" Don pushed to his feet. "Maybe! It depends on how I feel after you give me some time to handle this."

"I see." There was a long pause. "I did not take your emotional state into consideration when I made my decision. I apologize."

Don gave a broken, hard laugh. "Sure you do."

"You are angry with me."

"I am furious!" Don sucked in a breath. "Just...let me go back to my room for a while, okay? I can't...if I'm going to deal with this...you have to give me space."

"That is consistent with the process of grief as I comprehend it from various sources. I will do as you ask."

Don jumped down from the interface unit and strode from the room, his feet following a path without requiring him to think about it

"How long until you need me again?" Don asked as he approached his single claimed room on the ship.

"At least twenty hours."

"Okay." Don heaved in another breath. "I'm not coming out until then, okay?"

"But you will continue with our arrangement?"

Don stopped and his shoulders fell. He shut his eyes and hung his head. "Yeah. Probably."

"Excellent. I am pleased my actions have not damaged our partnership."

"Just don't count on me until I come out. And don't you dare try to spy on me or this deal is in big trouble. Got it?"

"Affirmative. I will honor your request."

Don nodded and finished the walk to his cabin. Once through the door, he threw himself onto his bed and sobbed.

-==OOO==-

The escape pod floated for two hours, its passengers as silent as the void outside the protective walls, before the instrument panel lit up. A familiar dark face appeared.

"Mister Mortu, this is Owens. We are reading your distress signal. Respond."

Mortu's robo-organic body moved as smoothly as ever, but the Utrom himself was downcast and sluggish as though dragging his many feet.

"Mortu responding."

"What's happened? Are you in need of assistance? Were you able to locate Donatello?"

Mortu made a low, raw sound.

"Mister Mortu? Are you injured?"

Mortu drew in a breath. "No. Please lock onto our pod and bring us in."

"Teleportal telemetry received. We'll have you out of there in just a minute, and the time differential from your location should be about an hour on the Homeworld. Do you need medical teams standing by?"

"No." Mortu paused for a long, pain-filled moment. "But please summon Leatherhead's guardians. I...will tell them myself."

Bonani's eyes widened but he squared his jaw and nodded. "Understood."

There was a moment of tension in the air and then the teleportal drew the escape pod away from the place of such tragedy.

Mortu's last thought was, But I will carry this darkness with me all my days, no matter how far away from it I flee.

As soon as they reintegrated, the door of the escape pod was opened and Owens stuck his head in. "The teleportal readings…" He broke off as he looked around. "I see."

Mortu steered his suit out of the pod and abandoned it. He did not glance backwards as he said, "Debrief them and take them...somewhere. I have to...I have to do the death notifications and then speak to the High Council."

Bonani caught up with him. "Mister Mortu, I could…"

"No." Mortu's voice was flat. "It is my responsibility."

"Not alone it is not." Splinter's voice rang in the cavernous room. He stepped down from the teleportal and moved to face Mortu. "These losses...I share at least some responsibility for them. I will share this burden with you as well."

Mortu closed his eyes. "Very well, Master Splinter. Honestly...I would appreciate it."

"I will take care of the turtles," Owens said.

As Mortu and Splinter exited the room, Owens turned back to the three turtles standing together, clearly holding one another back from their own despair. He took a deep breath and faced them.

"I need to know what happened, but first – what do you need?"

Leo gulped. "Raph...probably needs to have some time to himself to vent. I can give you the...information, but then I'd like to meditate."

Mikey rubbed at his beak. "I just don't wanna be alone."

Bonani nodded. "Come to our dojo, then. I will send for some partners for Raphael and you can talk to me or anyone else you might like."

He could see that they were grieving, yes, but they were also badly shaken. Whatever they had learned, whatever they had experienced, it had left them uncertain. Owens privately vowed to do whatever he could to help them. No matter their actions towards their brother, the turtles were just as young as Donatello, and just as tender-hearted.

And they were Clan besides.

When they reached the dojo, Bonani gave his Guardians orders to let Raphael rage as he wished, and he threw a full-blown tantrum – breaking whatever came to his hands and savagely fighting anyone who presented his- or herself to him. Michelangelo sat against a wall and stared at the activity with wide, sorrowful eyes.

Leonardo explained what had happened in shaky words. He answered every question Guardian Owens asked, even though sometimes his throat got stuck on the details.

When he finished, he let out a long breath.

"It just seems...surreal. For them to be...gone. And...whatever the Architect is planning, or whatever it's doing to Donnie…" He trailed off and swallowed. "It's not good."

"No, it doesn't seem so." Bonani had kept his composure only through an exertion of titanium will. He had recorded the interview and was already composing suggestions for the High Council in light of this evidence. There could be no doubt that the Collective, the Homeworld, in fact the entire galaxy was in danger.

"You know," Leo said after a long moment, "there is one thing that keeps bothering me. Keeps sticking in my mind."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Well, in the security footage Mister Mortu showed us before we came here, we could see what we thought was Donatello through one of the windows on the Architect's ship."

"Yes?"

"Well, if he was in that tank all that time, we couldn't have seen him on that footage."

Bonani frowned. "Is it possible the Architect moved him?"

"I think it must have, but I don't know why. I mean, do Utrom ships normally put their brigs on the outside with a window?"

"No." Owens' heart was sinking. "They do not."

"Then why was Donnie where he was, and why wasn't he there later? What's going on with the Architect?" Leo closed his eyes tightly. "What is he doing with my brother?"

Owens moved to grip his shoulder but froze before he got there and let his arm fall. "I do not know, Leonardo. But we will find out. I know we will get to the bottom of this eventually."

Leo nodded. He turned away and spoke under his breath mostly for himself.

"I'm sure we will. I just have a bad feeling about what we'll find when we get there."

-==OOO==-

"...At which point the Guardians used the teleportal to retrieve us."

Mortu did not flinch away from the many, many eyes upon him.

Beside him, Splinter attempted to give him a supportive nod, but the Utrom did not glance his way, either.

After a long moment, the many voices of the High Council spoke as one.

"We mourn the lives lost and we have the greatest sympathy for the hardship you have endured, Mortu. The Collective is lessened by the deaths of Leatherhead, Krian'daren, and Zayton Honn'i'kedt, but we are certain your own heart is in far more distress."

"Thank you," he said.

"However, though our hearts are heavy, we must think about the future. We must prevent any further loss of life."

"I agree."

"At this time, the Secrete Obscura is under the command of someone not so intimately connected with these events, correct?"

Mortu blinked but said, "Yes. I recognize that I am emotionally compromised at this time and am not a viable candidate to resume those duties."

"We concur. However, we will not bar you from participating in the investigation as your skills are among the best and we need all the help we can get."

Mortu made a gesture with his forelegs.

"What are my orders?"

"First, ensure that your full and detailed report is made available to the Secrete Obscura as quickly as possible."

"I will."

"Second, as you have already made the notifications to the Hoolann system as well as Leatherhead's own family, we would ask you to speak to the Science Institute as well. Myle should also be informed."

"Understood."

"Thirdly, we command that you take point on the tracking of the Architect's ship. We must locate it so that we can intercept and disable it before any other harm is done. You were able to plant a locator beacon while on board?"

"Yes, and it appears to be transmitting."

"We will not approach the Architect while it is within range of civilians except to intercede on their behalf. When the ship is clear of any innocent bystanders, you will direct the Guardians and the Secrete to its location."

Mortu paused for an instant before he answered, "Very well."

"Finally, we would ask you to recuse yourself from the boarding party, should we assemble one."

Mortu's expression folded inward. "Compromised or not, I am still the best qualified to re-enter the ship in the hope of disabling it."

"You will pass your intelligence to the Secrete. You accept that you are emotionally compromised. We expect that you will respect our desire not to put you into a situation you cannot regard with detachment."

Mortu visibly drew his face into a mask of calm. "I understand."

"Master Splinter."

Splinter looked up to the row of Utrom and the many faces projected above. "Yes, honored ones?"

"As you are not a citizen of the Collective, we have no authority to order you or your sons to refrain from making an additional attempt against the Architect. However, we would ask out of courtesy that you leave this matter to us. We do not wish to lose any more lives to it."

Splinter bristled. "I appreciate your concern for our wellbeing. However, Donatello is alive and on that ship. For as long as he endures, we will not give up trying to reach him."

"It is our duty to inform you that we may be required to destroy the ship. We would make all reasonable attempts to rescue Astrocyte Donatello, but if it is not possible to do so without incurring greater risk, we must consider the overall security of the Collective against his one life."

Splinter closed his eyes for a pained moment before he opened them again. "I cannot blame you for needing to safeguard the wider population of innocents. But you will understand, then, why my family and I cannot delay. If possible, we will avoid conflict with the Architect at all."

"And if that is not possible?"

"Then we will save Donatello regardless, though we will not risk lives other than our own to do so. On that you have my word of honor."

"That is sufficient then, Master Splinter. We wish you good fortune in this. We hope you can succeed in extracting Astrocyte Donatello. Then we need not debate using lethal force."

The High Council concluded and Mortu led Splinter from the chamber. They walked for some time before Mortu drew Splinter aside into a small, private area.

"What will you do now, Master Splinter?"

"I was going to ask you a similar question, Mister Mortu. For I sense in you an unwillingness to cease your participation at this juncture in the way requested by the Council."

Mortu smiled an Earth smile. "You are correct. I will do ask asked by the High Council, but I will also continue my own actions." His smile fell. "I will not leave Donatello to face the Architect and an attack by our own Secrete alone. We must retrieve him before they move against that ship."

"What do you suggest?"

"The signal from the tracker I planted suffers an enormous lag before it reaches us. The High Council will have to follow it for some time before they can project its location and attempt to reach it. And even then, they may guess wrong and need more time to circle back to its new coordinates. I suggest we avoid their method entirely."

"And how do we do this?"

Mortu looked closely at Splinter. "If we had some way of ascertaining that ship's position now, not hours ago, we could beat them to it by as much as thirty or forty hours."

Splinter frowned. "I do not understand."

Mortu's expression tightened. "Your Master, Hamato Yoshi, evidenced certain extra-cognitive and precognitive abilities, and Donatello possessed them as well. These abilities, while of interest on the Homeworld, are not much lauded for their accuracy."

Splinter nodded. "To the scientifically minded, magic is either fiction or fakery."

"Yes. But I have learned to trust in it. Especially after...well. Donatello mastered an ability even Yoshi never demonstrated. And he always spoke highly of your own skills."

"You wish me to try to find Donatello through meditation."

"Yes." Mortu drew closer. "And when you find him, lead us to him."

Splinter gave a slight bow. "I will make the attempt at once."

"Not here." Mortu moved away, Splinter following. "Let's do this somewhere I am certain is entirely secure."

He made for Donatello's lab at the Science Institute, and sent a message to Guardian Owens to bring the turtles there as soon as he could. Mortu's heart told him that Splinter's success or failure was not dependent upon the presence of his other sons, but that if and when Splinter found the location, no one would be willing to wait to retrieve them before settling on a course of action.

-==OOO==-

Splinter stepped into the astral plane after three hours of concentration; his soul was not as serene as usual and it made achieving higher states of consciousness far more difficult. As before, being in his son's lab seemed to draw the genius's presence nearer in his mind. But unlike the last time, now Splinter felt Donatello's life-force very clearly, almost as if he, too, were meditating. It was the first time there had been anything like the potential for deliberate contact, save once, since their return from the other dimension.

Splinter abandoned caution and dove towards the sense of Donatello.

Only to crash into something metallic. A shield, like a shackle around the mind he sought to reach, impenetrable and solid.

"Donatello! Can you hear me?"

Splinter thought perhaps there was a response, but it was so faint he could not be certain.

"Donatello!"

And then he was flooded with a sense of grief. And a sense of peril.

He latched onto those feelings and concentrated on the where of them until he had an image fixed in his mind.

He opened his eyes. "I can see where he is, or perhaps where he will be shortly."

Mortu called up the computer. "Now we need just find it and procure a ship to get there."

Splinter rose. "I can only guide you from what my visions have shown, but they are clear. How many stations stand alone and abandoned in space colored brown when lights fall upon them? Rounded below but angular on top."

Mortu's mouth twitched. "Sounds like a hybrid trading stationary outpost, maybe Federation and something else. But that doesn't narrow it down enough."

Splinter nodded. "Then you must show me images of the possibilities. I will know it when I see it, but I can give you nothing other than that."

"Won't that take too long?" Leonardo asked, speaking for the first time since entering the lab. In fact, all three turtles had been silent and withdrawn.

"It will be faster than the Guardians' own method," Mortu said, "and we must take heart from that. It may also be more accurate. If I have learned anything in my time with Donatello, it is to trust in the wisdom learned from your Master Yoshi. I choose to trust in it now."

-==OOO==-

Exactly twelve hours after he had gone into his room, Donatello emerged. The Architect noticed him immediately as he returned to sensor-range.

"Donatello. Your vital-signs still show high levels of stress. Are you well?"

Don began walking back down the corridor. "I wouldn't call it that, no. But I'm here and I've got a plan."

"By 'here' do you mean that you intend to continue?"

"Yes. But I need your help with something first."

"What do you require?"

Don reached the interface room he had abandoned before. "I've already begun the process of dampening my emotions through meditation. I would like to complete the work while hooked into your matrix."

The Architect paused before saying, "Donatello, all organic beings experience emotions. Is ridding yourself of them truly necessary?"

Don stared at the tank of orange gel for a moment.

"I'm not doing this permanently. But I can't afford to be distracted, either. If we're going to do this, I need to be at the top of my game."

"The neural-positive gel used in to facilitate our neural link is already designed to suppress emotions in order to ensure an efficient exchange."

Don climbed up onto the tank. "Yeah, I know. But the plan doesn't work if I spend all my time suspended in there. I've got a lot of stuff to build for us, you know?"

"Your manual labor could be accomplished by other means."

"Not really. Yeah, you could steal some more robots, but we both know they can't test on the fly and it would slow us down. And it's not like you have hands to do it yourself."

"You make an excellent point. I would not wish our task to be delayed. Already I have waited too long. Additions and upgrades to my ship before your arrival took years if not decades of time as you perceive it."

"But with me around, I can do them in hours." Don nodded. "Exactly. So plug me into your matrix and I'll use your system to lock down my brain. Okay?"

"As long as you are certain there will be no ill effects upon your cognition or your competence."

"Trust me." Don slipped the mental bridge band around his head, barely flinching as it bit into his flesh anew through the constantly-open cuts. He affixed the wrist and ankle tethers and stood poised over the tank as the Architect slid it open. "Not doing this would be way worse for both of us."

"As you wish, Donatello."

Don strapped on the breathing mask and jumped into the tank – and into the Architect's mind.

-==OOO==-

"Does anybody else get the heebie-jeebies from this tin can?"

Raph absently elbowed Michelangelo. "Don't matter, do it? As long as it gets us there."

"Why can't we just teleportal, though? That sounds way safer, and believe me, I never thought being taken apart in lumpy chunks would be better." Mikey dodged another strike from Raph.

"Because," Mortu said, "as I am 'going rogue' as the expression goes, I cannot authorize its use except as an emergency evacuation."

"So we can use it to get back if we're all gonna die?" Mikey asked.

"Or if we do manage to free Donatello, yes."

Leo glanced at his father. "Sensei, I…"

Splinter held up a hand. "Donatello is our priority. In retrieving him, you and your brothers are more necessary than I, for I may yet be able to assist him and you from here. And Mister Mortu is, of course, required."

"Yes, but...it doesn't feel right leaving you behind."

"The ship will only support yourselves, Donatello, and Mister Mortu for the duration of the trip if there is to be any return. My presence would endanger us all at a time when we cannot be distracted."

"So…" Mikey drawled, high and overly-eager, "why don't we just take a bigger ship?"

Mortu made an expression that looked as if he was holding back an eye-roll. He had already explained this once. "Because this is as much as I can acquire using my own funds without raising our profile and drawing censure from the High Council."

"Let me guess." Raph crossed his arms. "You get in trouble, you wind up stuck in a dark little room and we gotta bust you out?"

"Nothing so drastic, but I would not be allowed off-planet. And all those who would help you other than myself are beholden to the High Council as well."

"Where's the band of merry smugglers when we need them?" Raph grumbled.

Mikey snorted. "Didn't we try something like that on D'Hoonib? I seem to remember that didn't work out so good."

Raph glared at him. "And whose fault was that?"

"You said that this ship is faster than the one we took last time, right?" Leo turned back to Mortu, leaving Splinter to quiet his bickering brothers.

"Yes, significantly. That is why it has much less in the way of environmental controls. However, it also lacks many of the safety features, including an independent escape pod. Any danger like what we faced last time may force us to retreat via the teleportal, and we may not be given another opportunity before the High Council grounds us."

"Then we get it right this time," Leo said. "We get there and we save Don and we get back."

"Exactly. Climb aboard. We must move quickly to reach the location Master Splinter saw before it is too late. It will not take as long to get there since we do not have to follow a trail but can rather go directly, but it will still be many hours – and every moment the Secrete Obscura get closer to taking their own actions as well."

Splinter faced his sons and they automatically fell into line before him. "My sons. Do not risk your lives, and do not risk your brother's. But save him. Bring him home."

They bowed. "Yes, father."

-==OOO==-

Architect, I want to ask you a favor.

You may have anything I can grant without compromising my task.

Will you please agree not to kill anyone from this point forward? At least not without my approval as well?

May I inquire for your reasons?

The others who were here...my Source Unit and my brothers. I don't care what happens to them as long as we don't kill them. But they'll try to interfere. It's just how they are.

Will they threaten my task?

They'll give it their best shot. But if you leave them to me, I'll keep them from causing any issues. I'm just asking you to give me the chance to do that without taking their lives.

Sentiment, Donatello?

I hope not. We've just spent all this time getting rid of it! But I do think it would cause me a significant distraction, perhaps even enough to undo these mental blocks. And if that happens, we might not have time to redo them.

That is a legitimate possibility. Very well. I will agree to take no more lives unless you also think it is necessary.

Thank you, Architect. I appreciate it.

You are welcome. I see in your thoughts you have no other business.

Yeah, I'm done.

Would you like to remain within the neural link, or would you prefer to separate?

I'll stay here for a bit, anyway. It's easy to focus here.

I would not know of that, having no other form. I am content to have you remain for as long as you wish. But I will continue monitoring your vital-signs. If you remain too long, the neural-positive gel will become depleted.

To say nothing of my energy. I actually do need to eat and sleep sometimes and I haven't done a whole lot of either lately. You're right. I'll stay a while and then I'll get back to being organic and fleshy.

You make it sound very distasteful.

Sometimes it is, Architect. Sometimes it really is.

-==OOO==-

"MIster Mortu? Can I ask you something?"

Leo barely had to raise his voice to be heard in the tiny cabin of the ship that hurtled through space like a rocket. Especially as they had been largely silent for many hours, even Michelangelo. Though all three turtles had fallen asleep at some point, which was probably the only reason the silence lasted so long.

But now they were wide awake – and almost on top of the Architect's position.

Mortu remained close to the controls but he turned. "What's on your mind, Leonardo?"

"You said something when Master Splinter came out of meditation. Something about Master Yoshi and about Donnie."

"Yes."

Mikey looked up. "Will you tell us about it?"

"May I ask why you are curious?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Raph frowned. "I know you're still ticked off at us but…"

"It's not that," Mortu said. He made a very Earth-like sigh. "Listen. What happened between you and Donatello, I now accept that it was not so much your fault as we had believed. The findings were clear – you were under the influence of the foreign dimension. My animosity towards you has been neutralized since then."

"You sure about that?" Raph grumbled under his breath.

But in the tight quarters, where the turtles were practically knee-to-knee, Mortu couldn't help but hear it.

"Yes, I am sure. However, the change in Donatello was not due to another dimension. It was due to a change in his situation." Mortu closed his eyes for a moment before facing them. "You may not be able to understand this, but his changes were quite significant. For you, once you returned to your home, you attempted to pick up where you left off. Donatello never had that chance. He had to begin anew here with my people."

"And we're grateful," Leo was quick to put in. "We owe you one for taking care of our brother like that and giving him a home."

"You do not understand. I did not give him a home. I gave him another life. I gave him a future, one he never had while on Earth."

"We know all about it," Raph said, his patience wearing thin. "We've seen the vids."

"Hang on." Mikey held up a hand. "I think I get it. Don let us go, right? Started to forget about us. Started to move on."

"Yes, exactly."

Leo and Raph were staring at Michelangelo. "How do you know that?" Leo asked.

"Because that's what I had to do with Mitsu," he said, half-shrugging. "It's not like she's dead, but she's gone and even if I ever see her again, it won't be the same. My feelings had to change and that changes everything else."

"You do understand," Mortu said with approval. "If you three and Master Splinter have continued to perceive hostility from me, that is my fault and I am sorry for it. But...for the last three flows, more than that, Donatello has been my own family. My only family other than...Zayton and Leatherhead." His face bent with obvious pain.

Raph's own expression shuttered. "Sorry. We didn't mean to...ya know. Bring it up."

"No, I'm glad you did." Mortu forced his voice to work. "We were, in these last months as you would call them, a group of four not unlike yourselves. Perhaps not as innately close, but loyal where it counted. United. There are things we trusted with one another that we had not shared with anyone else."

Mortu gestured with a foreleg.

"What you ask about, Leonardo, about Donatello's spiritual studies under Hamato Yoshi, this is something he viewed very privately. He told us about it, shared with us his discoveries and his interest, but it was not for ears but our own. Even Krian'daren was kept out of some of it. We were…"

"Brothers," Leo finished. "You were brothers to him."

"Something like, yes. And this cycle of loss that began when Donatello lost you and continues now that we have lost him...it is not easy to bear. And now...with Zayton and Leatherhead…it is so much worse."

Mortu's voice dropped to a near-whisper.

"I long for Donatello's own counsel, that he might help guide me through this grief. And I am afraid to wonder if he is experiencing it alone with only the Architect itself for company."

The three turtles exchanged glances. They were sad, too, but Leatherhead and the Professor had been friends, allies, family in only the broadest sense. They hurt for those deaths, but it didn't claw at them the way Donatello's absence did.

It was Raph who said what they were all thinking. "I wouldn't be able to handle it. If I were alone. Like you are now. Like...like Donnie was when we left him. I think I'd go nuts."

"As if you aren't already." Michelangelo snorted.

The levity worked and the atmosphere in the room lightened slightly.

Mortu shook himself and looked up. "I think all of us have been feeling rather similar things about the absence of Donatello, and perhaps if we work together we will have the best chance to alleviate this situation. And while there are some things I will not tell you, there are a few confidences that I feel are worth breaking."

Leo managed to smile. "Thank you, Mister Mortu. I'm sure it's hard for you, but we appreciate it. Anything that might help us save Don, or even just understand him better."

"What I will not tell you is what he learned from Hamato Yoshi, as that is truly Donatello's alone."

"Can you tell us how the shell he learned something from someone who was killed back on Earth before we were even hatched?" Raph wanted to know.

"Yes. Yoshi left behind a series of memories in something akin to the Utrom way, and Donatello was given access to them. Yoshi's memories contained a great deal of practical knowledge in the art of combat as well as some of the spiritual and metaphysical insight he had acquired."

"That's what you were telling Master Splinter about," Mikey said. "That Donnie learned some new astral tricks or something."

"Yes, though I confess I am not entirely certain how he came by some of his knowledge as he never explicitly accredited it to Hamato Yoshi. And the piece of that which I believe it may be most relevant for you to know is this – Donatello mastered the use of controlled quantum folding to create a stable pocket dimension."

Leo blinked. "Uh...come again?"

"Donatello was able, after a great deal of practice, to create a fold in space which he controlled by will alone. He could place items into this fold for safekeeping, and they would exist only within a sub-dimension which was under his control."

Raph was gaping. "How does that even work?"

Mortu made a small, human smile. "I believe it would take longer to explain than we have before we arrive. Suffice it to say that it did work and he had complete, conscious control over the pocket and everything within it."

"That's it!" Leo slammed a fist into his open hand. "That's gotta be why he was at the window!"

"Why who what?" Mikey looked at him.

"The video Mister Mortu showed us back in the lair had Don at a window in the Architect's ship. But when we got in there, he was in that tank."

"So…?" Raph drawled out the question, raising an eye-ridge.

"So! I bet Don used something in that pocket to try to escape. I mean, obviously it didn't work, but it means that he was still fighting, and still able to focus enough to invoke his astral powers." Leo's grin went wide. "It means he was still Donnie even after all that time with the Architect."

"And if he was still Don then…" Raph said, also getting excited.

"Then there's a good chance he's still Don now!" Mikey finished with glee.

A moment later there came a beeping from the console. Mortu spun around at once.

"We're coming up on the station. It looks to me that the Architect's ship has docked."

Then he stared at the readings before typing furiously into the computer.

"What is it?" Leo asked, immediately crowding up behind the Utrom.

"I am reading just a single life-sign in the area, but it isn't on the Architect's ship; it's on the station itself."

"What does that mean?" Raph asked.

Leo stared out into space and at the ship now coming into view, the ship that had taken Don.

"It means either we're too late or Don's already working on an escape."

"The Architect will no doubt notice our presence within moments," Mortu said. "I can try to scramble the readings so it can't easily pinpoint you three."

"Can you, like, distract it for a little while?" Mikey piped up. "Then we could go over to the station and see if it's Don and get him without having to crawl all over that ship again."

"Yes," Mortu said. "I will transmat you over and cover the traces by any means I can devise. You will have less than half an hour to identify the life-sign and signal for retrieval before I will have to pull you out or risk the Architect attacking again."

"More than enough time," Raph said, low and solid.

"Good luck," Mortu said, and though he was harried, he said it with feeling. "Transmatting now."

The turtles opened their eyes in a huge room. The station had obviously been deserted for some time, as many of its fixtures were broken or partially disassembled, but there was gravity and oxygen and intermittent light in the area.

And high above, a small figure was crouching over a piece of equipment on a narrow platform.

"Donnie!"

Leo, Raph, and Mike began jumping from place to place, scaling the twentyish-story gap between themselves and the one they knew so well even at a distance, even after so long.

"Donatello!" Leo called as he sprang from a central pillar to the roof of what might have once been a house or a shop, just a few yards below Donatello's position. "Don, can you hear me?"

Donatello looked up just as Raph and Mikey joined Leo.

Leo took a half-step back as a pure, vacant look slammed into him. "Don?"

Donatello blinked very, very slowly. "Leo."

"Don, are you okay?" Raph asked, but he was held back by Leo's outstretched arm.

"Huh?"

"Donnie?" Mikey's voice was uncertain and he held onto Leo's elbow as if for support.

"Oh. Sure. Yeah. Just...need to dig out...some information."

"Don." Leo took a breath. "Don, we have to get you out of here."

"No. You can't do that. I need to do this."

"How come?" Raph asked, and he managed to keep the question mostly light and casual.

Don looked up again, but this time the emptiness in his eyes was starting to fade – to be replaced by something far colder and more remote.

"It's necessary for our plan."

"Your...plan." Leo gulped. "Donatello, the Architect...it did something to you, right?"

"To me? Not much. And what it did do to me, I accepted."

Raph's breath stilled in his chest. "You ain't sayin' what I think you're sayin' here, Don."

Don's eyes shifted to Raph, his head sliding on his neck in a snakelike manner. "That I have participated in some of the Architect's doings? Yes, I have. And I will continue to do so."

"Don, he killed Leatherhead and the Professor and that doctor Krian'daren!" Mikey shouted.

Don blinked again. "I know. I wasn't happy about that. But the Architect had its reasons. It was wrong, but we've discussed the error in logic."

"The error in...Donatello, we're talking about your friends! Your…" But Leo choked on the word 'family.'

"I know that better than you." Don turned back to what he was doing. "Go away."

Raph growled. "You know we can't do that! What's this Architect doin' with you anyway? What could it possibly want that makes what it did okay?"

"You can't understand it," Don said absently. "It has to do with reprogramming certain universal cognitive functions so that the galaxy can finally find peace. I'd think you'd agree that's worth a few sacrifices."

Mikey sucked in a breath and made a helpless, half-broken, half-furious sound.

"Donatello!" Leo barked in his sharpest commanding tone. "Stop this!"

Donatello actually paused and looked up. His expression was blank, but he tipped his head to the side. "Or else what?"

That put Leo off-guard. He glanced to Raph and Mikey at either side. "What do you mean?"

Don's voice was even, almost gentle. "Why should I stop, exactly?"

"You know why!" Raph shouted. "You ain't so far gone you can't tell right from wrong!"

Don shrugged. "That's not what I meant. Why should I stop – as in what would be the consequence of continuing? What will you do to me if I don't stop?"

"Bro…" Mikey gulped.

But Leonardo resolutely spoke up. "I don't want to have to fight you. You're my brother, Donnie!"

A strange, broken smile crept over Donatello's face. "Am I? Really?"

The very air seemed to grow chillier around them.

Donatello rose and took a step forward. "Is that why you chose Usagi's world instead of ours? Because we're brothers?"

Raph flinched. "Don, it wasn't like that..."

Donatello heaved in a breath as though his chest were preparing to burst.

"Is that why you abandoned me? Why you never intended to come back? Why you left me to live and die alone? Because we're brothers?"

Mikey's eyes watered at the gut-torn shout that grew out of Donatello's unnatural calm. "We didn't…" But he couldn't finish that lie and he knew it.

Leo took a step of his own, and only the pair right beside him could see the slight tremor he fought to control. "Don, if this is about us, if this is revenge for our mistake...I accept that. If you need to hurt us because we hurt you… I won't stop you. But you can't… Don, you can't put innocent people in danger because we abandoned you! That's not who you are!"

Don's eyes had looked wild and alive for a moment, but the light in them died once more and his face went almost slack.

"You'd let me take revenge on you? For what you did."

"Ancestors forgive me, yes. I would. Attack me, Don. Hurt me. I did this. No one else." Leo's voice trembled.

Don's eyes drifted closed. "It's just like those prayer scrolls."

All three brothers exchanged glances. "What now?" Raph asked.

"Everyone saw them. But nobody understood what they meant. Nobody but me. They were a blind, a distraction. They kept people from realizing the truth." Don's eyes opened and they were almost as empty as if they were forged of plastic. "I'm going to tear them down, Leo. We will, me and the Architect, together. No more secrets. No more lies. Everything what it seems and everyone where they belong."

"Donatello, that's not the answer!" Leo yelled.

"But it is. It's the only answer. I'm not going to hurt people, Leo. I'm helping them. I'm saving them from hurt. From what you did to me. So no one ever has to face it again."

"Donatello, if you keep on this path… I'm going to have to fight you." Leo drew his blades to hold before him. "Please, my brother. Please don't make me do this."

Donatello's expression went suddenly granite-hard. "What did you say to me when I begged you to bring our family home, Leonardo?"

Leo actually faltered where he stood, rocking back on a heel as his balance betrayed him. "I…"

"What did you say to me, Leonardo? My brother." This last was practically growled.

The words tasted like ash in Leo's mouth and he could barely whisper them. "I know what's best for this family, Donnie. You don't. Leave us alone."

"Well, brother. This time I know what's best. This time, you need to leave me alone."

"Not a chance, Donnie." Raph regathered himself and curled his body into a ready stance. "We ain't walkin' away this time."

"Going to fight me, Raphael? Going to humiliate me again? Going to try to break me?" The unnerving smile was back. "Nothing ever changes, does it?"

That doused Raph's anger like frigid water and his expression went from determination to stricken horror. "Donnie...I...I shouldn't'a done that. I'm...I'm sorry, bro."

Donatello's dead-cold eyes swept his brothers and he seemed not to hear Raph at all.

"Opposite sides. Opposite worlds. Staring at each other through mirrors and lies and a gulf bigger than the emptiness outside."

"It doesn't have to be that way!" Mikey protested.

Donatello actually scoffed at him. "We used to share New York before you left to go to Usagi's world, but even that wasn't enough for you. I came to the Collective and here you are again. Now you've taken the one thing I thought I could keep. You've taken everything away from me again. But I'll fight for this one. The Homeworld is mine and you don't belong with them."

He turned away.

"Go home. Whatever your home is. I'll take care of the Utrom and everyone else."

"Donnie, you can't let the Architect turn you into a supervillain!" Mikey shouted. "Our Donatello would never ever hurt the Utrom or anyone else!"

Raph added, "Yeah! Our Donnie would never do whatever you're doing now!"

Donatello whirled back around with a feral snarl. "Your Donatello is dead! He died the day you abandoned him! You don't know me at all! And what I do with the Architect or anyone else is none of your business anymore!"

"Donatello. It is time."

The three turtles froze at the voice of the Architect that rang in the cavernous room.

Donatello drew himself up. "I'm almost ready. Just one more dataset to pull off the closed network."

"Would you like me to dispose of these impediments for you while you do so?"

The brothers traded horrified glances at the consideration Don was giving that question.

Finally, Don shook his head. "No. I'll handle them myself, thank you." Then a different smile appeared – one that was frigid and hard. "I want them to see that I am not their useless, weakling brother anymore. I want them to see what I have learned. What we have learned together."

"I applaud your dedication to our cause. Please proceed, Donatello."

"Don!" Leo shouted, starting to move.

But he had only braced himself to jump when a light began to glow before Donatello. Leo couldn't have said what sort of magic or something else was happening, but when he saw what emerged from that flash of brilliance he drew to a frozen, horrified halt.

"Don! You can't!"

"I can. And so much more, Leo. So much more."

Donatello lifted his Fang of the Dragon, Byakko.

Raph and Mikey darted to join Leo.

Mikey's eyes were wide. "He can't really use it, right? None of them work without the amulets."

"Don't you remember?" Donatello said as he began to rotate Byakko. "Things are not always what they seem. Especially reality."

His body started to glow. The purple light didn't take on the sharp lines that once denoted the energy flow of Donatello's focus and will, but rather it swirled around him like a thin shield of air with a few lines and patterns emerging only to shift and fade just as quickly.

"Donnie! Don't!" Raph's shout was strangled against a pain in his chest that Leo and Mikey shared wholeheartedly. A pain that had nothing to do with the magic and everything to do with the lost, broken, furious expression that twisted their gentle brother's face almost beyond recognition.

"Release the cleaving wind!"

Byakko spun and a blast of light and air hit the three turtles head-on, lifting them clear off their feet.

"Donatello!" Leo bellowed.

Beneath the howling torrent of wind, he thought he could hear Donatello say, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry you ever had to find out about this. Take care of yourselves in the life you have chosen. Goodbye."

The light got bright and the air went even colder and Leo was only barely aware of bumping into Raph and Mikey and a gaping void inside his soul where guilt and grief had eaten his heart.

Unconsciousness was welcome.

-==OOO==-

When they were gone and the sensors in his kit told Donatello that his brothers were too far across the station to return before he would be ready to leave, he let Byakko return to the fold of reality where it was easiest to keep it and turned back to the panel. He worked in silence for several moments before the voice he had come to know so well spoke again.

"Donatello?"

"Yes, Architect?"

"Are you disturbed by the presence of your former family?"

Donatello shrugged. "I guess. But it doesn't change the plan, does it?"

"No. Unless you feel you are unable to continue."

"No." Donatello closed his hands around the nearest edge of the panel. "No, I definitely want to keep going. That's why we went to the trouble of suppressing my emotions in the first place – so I could endure something that would otherwise be really distracting. We've come so far. I'm not giving up now."

"Excellent. I am pleased to see that you are as stalwart as I had hoped."

"Don't worry, Architect. I'm seeing this thing through to the end. No matter what."