The combined army of Russians and rebels stampeded down the runway once Rocksteady's helicopter came crashing into the front of Shredder's fortress. All pretense of remaining silent was abandoned, stealth becoming obsolete in this vast no-man's land. The runway was a little more than a mile long, but they intended to close the gap between themselves and the enemy as quickly as their feet would carry them.

Colonel Hamato ran at the head of the pack, his kama in his hand, two younger turtles flanking him on either side, their weapons drawn as well. Leonardo couldn't help but scan the desolate land with his eyes, a creeping sense of dread rising up inside him. Why did this all seem too easy?

"Eyes front! They're coming!" The Colonel barked out suddenly, snapping Leo's attention back into the moment. He looked towards Shredder's tower once more, spotting several dozen pairs of flitting fireflies in the distance. Footbots, almost a hundred of them. The young ninja's grip tightened around the hilts of his katana. This was it.

The Footbots were much faster than they were and closed the distance between themselves and the attacking army within a minute. The Turtles had to be careful not to stray in the path of friendly bullets as the soldiers opened fire, the rattle of rifle shots ringing in their ears as they raised their weapons for the inevitable clash.

There was a screech of sawblades as the Footbots met the advancing force. Leonardo tried to put a majority of the chaos around out of his mind as he slashed out at one of the deadly robots with careful, calculated strikes. The Colonel had told him what to aim for, and he couldn't afford to miss his mark at a time like this. His katana sliced through the torso of the nearest robot, through the glowing power core hidden in its chest. Another came, and he cut this one down as well. He barely managed to parry a sawblade in time as it came buzzing towards his neck, kicking the enemy back before stabbing it through the chest.

Leo chanced a look up when he had a moment. His brothers were holding their own against the attack, each managing to strike at the Footbot's weak point now that they knew what they were aiming for. Well, all but one. Mikey seemed to struggle to take out any of the robots that had gotten a lock on him, his nunchaku unable to pierce through the armor plating protecting the Footbots' power cores. Even the blade of his kusarigama wasn't long enough to do much. The youngest of the turtles only managed to take any of them out if he'd happened to lead them in the path of rifle fire. He seemed to have taken notice of this little setback of his, sticking close to the soldiers behind them.

Mikey had retreated to stand next to one of the rebels when several Footbots managed to break through the front lines of mutants to the human forces behind, and what followed could only be described as a bloodbath. Individual streams of gunfire came to an abrupt end as the deadly robots sliced through flesh and bone indiscriminately. Michelangelo managed to dodge one sawblade as it came slashing down from above, but a scream sounded in his ear, a spray of something warm splattering against the side of his face. He tried not to think about what it must be, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. A Footbot turned its attention to the young turtle as it pulled its bloody sawblade from where it had been buried halfway into the rebel's skull, a distorted look of anguish frozen on the dead soldier's bifurcated face. Mikey could do nothing but stare in shock even as the robot lunged at him.

"Move, dammit!" came the barking order as the scythe-like blade of a kama slashed the attacking Footbot in two. Mikey then felt the Colonel's strong arm hook around his waist before he was more or less tossed off to the side. The older turtle just barely managed to turn back in time to slash through another attacking Footbot, kicking the remains away before attempting to put himself between the remaining enemies and the soldiers he'd led into this battle. Mikey was still staring wide-eyed after his future self when he felt a pair of arms pull him up to his feet.

"C'mon, Mikey! Snap out of it!" Raph growled as he hoisted his baby brother off the ground. Michelangelo's brain seemed to finally click back on, and he hastily wiped the blood from his face as though he'd just realized it was there.

"Th-this is crazy, dude! There's too many of 'em, and my weapons don't do jack!" he whined helplessly. Leonardo joined his two brothers in time to cut down another Footbot before it reached them.

"It'll be okay, Mikey. We've almost got 'em all." The eldest brother assured, flipping his off-hand katana around and shoving the hilt into the youngest turtle's hand. Mikey stared down at the sword he now held, his eyes darting up to the leader again.

"Leo, I can't—"

"Sure you can! Master Splinter taught all of us kendo! You know how to use it!" he shouted back over his shoulder as he charged the next robot, his stance having changed dramatically now that he only wielded one blade. Mikey's grip on the hilt tightened, knowing that this new chance at fighting came at the cost of splitting his own brother's arsenal by half.

"Uhh… Guys? We've got a problem…"

"What is it now, Donn—"

Raphael cut himself off when he turned to see what Donatello was talking about. He found himself staring towards the Shredder's fortress, watching as a sea of bright orange optics shone through the dim pre-dawn light as they surged out of the building. More Footbots. Hundreds of them. The four brothers ran back to where the Colonel was finishing off the last of the initial wave.

"Dude, there's more of 'em! What do we do?!" Mikey asked his future self frantically, pointing back towards the new foe swarming towards them. It wasn't the Swarm, of course. These new Footbots numbered only in the hundreds rather than the thousands. Unfortunately, that would be enough to overwhelm them. The Colonel looked back at what remained of his army. Only half were left fit to fight. The rest either had serious injuries or were outright dead. He wondered how long the remainders would be willing to continue like this.

As if the approaching robots weren't bad enough, the Colonel soon heard the last noise he'd wanted to hear at the moment. The scream of alien jet engines tore through the sky above, a fleet of black diamonds making a wide arc around the area as they prepared a bombing approach that wouldn't damage their own base. Colonel Hamato could only stare up at them in despair, his hand tightening on the grip of his kama. Dammit… And here he thought he'd have more time before the Bombers returned.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you again real soon, Don…" he whispered bitterly under his breath as he watched his doom approach.

Suddenly, a bright blue beam of light flashed across the sky, sweeping along the line of approaching Bombers. The Colonel watched in utter bewilderment as the old Triceraton ships began plummeting out of the sky, hitting the ground with tremendous force, carving out huge trenches in the land and tossing up dirt and debris. The lot of them had to make a mad dash backwards as one of the Bombers crashed nearby, coming to a tearing halt right across the runway in front of them. A murmur of confusion broke out from the crowd of stunned soldiers, and the adult mutant turtle couldn't help but echo the sentiment in his mind. Just what the hell was going on here?!

"Colonel!"

Colonel Hamato immediately spun around to stare back across the runway when he heard the all-too-familiar voice calling for him. However, that simply couldn't be. After all, this was the voice of a dead man. Sure enough, though his mind told him that it wasn't possible, his eyes watched in astonishment as Sergei rode towards them in his banged up old Dnepr. Of course, that was only the tip of the iceberg. Even more impossible than the Russian Major having survived his task was the man – no, the turtle – standing in the sidecar as the motorcycle rocketed down the runway from the direction of the city. There was a glint of light reflecting off the lens of a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, the white fabric of a lab coat billowing around his thin frame, and a strange device strapped to his back that would have made the Ghostbusters jealous. Even more telling than all that was the wide grin on the thin turtle's face, a distinct gap showing between his two front teeth.

"Donnie!" the Colonel called out, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face. He was alive! He didn't know how, and quite frankly he didn't give a damn right now. All that mattered was that the Professor, his dear brother, was still alive. He was so stunned by this revelation that he hadn't thought of anything to say when Sergei brought the motorcycle to a stop in front of him. The Professor climbed clumsily out of the sidecar, quickly righted himself, then held up the beam projector appendage of his strange invention with that triumphant grin still plastered across his gaunt face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have officially invented the Heisenberg Compensator! Montgomery Scott, eat your heart out!" he announced proudly. He wasn't sure if the open-mouthed stares of awe were for his invention or the fact that he was alive and quite clearly not catatonic any longer, but he decided he'd take it as a compliment either way. The Colonel managed to sum up the group's feelings rather eloquently.

"W-wait, how did you..? What is that supposed to..? What the hell is going on here?!"

The Professor held up a single finger to stop his younger brother's confused blithering.

"Can't talk now. Footbots are still a thing. Sergei, would you mind giving me a boost?"

Sergei quickly obliged the Professor's request, helping the thin turtle climb up on top of the downed Triceraton Bomber that they'd been standing behind. When the Russian Major returned his gaze to the others, he found himself face to face with Colonel Hamato.

"You! Explanations! Now!"

Sergei held up his hands helplessly, taking a step back from the rather excitable rebel leader.

"I had no idea he was still alive, I swear! I found him in Central Park after I activated the beacon. Or rather, he found me. I was about to be slaughtered by the Swarm, but then he took out the whole lot of them with that device of his. That thing just shuts them all down as soon as the beam passes over their power cores. He told me on the way here what had happened. After you brought Bishop's package to him, something just lined up in his mind again and he knew exactly what he had to do. He slipped out of the base about an hour before the Bombers hit and headed back to your old Lair in the sewers."

The Colonel listened to the story in complete disbelief. The Professor had just slipped out without anyone noticing? He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Sergei interrupted.

"Look, that's not all, Colonel. I found someone else on my way back here…"

And the Colonel's next question was answered before he had the chance to ask it. The roar of a second engine approached quickly from the far end of the runway, a battered red motorcycle coming to a stop in front of them. A large mutant turtle climbed off, brushing the dirt off the sleeve of his brown leather jacket. A single green eye met the Colonel's baby blue ones.

"Raph?!" he barked out in surprise. The Seraphim answered with a cockeyed smirk, taking the toothpick out of the corner of his lips and tossing it aside.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too, ya crazy son of a bitch." He replied in a low grumble. His smirk soon disappeared as he got the chance to look his baby brother over for the first time in years.

"Jesus Christ, Mike! What the fuck happened to your arm?!"


Donatello had climbed up on top of the downed Bomber shortly after the Professor had, eager to finally have a proper word with his future self. The older turtle was busy at work, directing the blue beam of his strange invention across the advancing horde of Footbots. Each robot seemed to collapse immediately upon being touched by the beam, the lights of their optics vanishing instantaneously. Donnie was amazed. Had this been what all of those endless equations were intended to make?

"Professor, what is this thing? What's it doing to the Footbots?" he asked, not quite understanding just by looking. The Professor's grin returned to his face, as though elated to have the chance to explain one of his inventions to someone who would actually know the science behind it.

"Well, we needed a way to deal with Shredder's robot Swarm in huge quantities at once without having to worry about fighting every last one. Mike originally wanted something to neutralize the Triceraton power cores inside the robots, but the crystalline structure inside the power packs were too volatile to try something like that without a massive explosion taking us out with it. So, I thought 'hey, why not use teleportation?' This thing is essentially a teleportation gun keyed into the exact atomic structure of the Triceraton's power source. I was looking over my equations again when one of them just jumped out at me! I don't even remember writing it! Once it all made sense, I was able to MacGyver this bad boy together in a couple of hours!"

Donatello's brow furrowed at that explanation. An equation he didn't remember writing had made it all make sense? He couldn't help but glance over just as Mikey joined them atop the felled Bomber, a look of wonder in his eyes as he watched the robots fall one after another. No, it couldn't be… The Professor couldn't be referring to that little scribble in the corner of his room that Raphael had caught Michelangelo writing before they left that white cell. What could that goofball have possibly written that his own future self couldn't figure out in more than five years?!

Donatello shook the absurd thought from his head, turning his eyes up to examine the device strapped to the Professor's back. It looked like his usual hodge-podge of scavenged components, though the most prominent feature seemed to be the massive Triceraton power core at its center, the glowing stripes of energy inverted from the normal orange to a bright blue. So that's what Bishop was trying to bring him? Was that what allowed him to dial into the atomic structure of the normal Triceraton power cores? Then, remembering what the device was supposed to do, he posed another question to the taller turtle.

"So it teleports just the power cell energy and nothing more… But where are you teleporting the power cells to?" he asked. The answer was an utterly amused chuckle.

"A point in space about twelve hundred and fifty parsecs away, all concentrated into an area about the size of a pencil eraser. It'll keep on getting denser and hotter the more robots I take out. Don't worry, it won't get dense enough to form a black hole, but it'll sure create one hell of a gravity well for nearby gasses! If you see a new star pop up near the Lagoon Nebula sometime in the next few million years, make sure they name it after me!"

Donatello couldn't stop a smile of admiration from spreading across his face.

"Professor, that's… That's genius! How did you even get the idea for something like that?"

"Easy! It simply occurred to me one day that the Triceratons have teleporters. If they could make it work, there must be some way around the Uncertainty Principal. I just extrapolated from there!"

The familiar phrase 'the Triceratons have teleporters' rang in Donatello's ears for a moment, his eyes widening. Once again, he found himself looking back at Michelangelo. This time, it seemed the younger turtle had been paying attention to their discussion, as he quickly flashed Donnie what was clearly an I-told-you-so smirk, a knowing look in those big baby blues. The lanky teen couldn't help but let his jaw hang open for a long moment.

"You gotta be kidding me…"


The charge resumed as soon as the Professor finished deactivating the robot horde, mutants and humans alike bursting with a renewed sense of hope now that it seemed they had victory within grasp. They rushed through the massive hole that Rocksteady had made in the wall of the fortress. As they climbed inside over the smoldering rubble, Sergei lingered behind a moment. He stared at the charred, mangled remains of his father's helicopter, his fists clenching lightly at his sides. He bowed his head, muttered a quick word of prayer in their native Russian, and gave the wreckage one final salute before running off to rejoin the rest of the troops.

The Colonel led the way deep into the fortress, two of his three brothers at his sides for the first time in almost a decade. There was only one person missing now. He scoffed bitterly to himself in his own mind. Leo was the last person he'd expect to see out here. He wasn't about to hold his breath waiting for him. Once they made their way to what appeared to be the main chamber of the building, the Colonel allowed them to stop. He then turned to Sergei and the rest of the soldiers.

"I want you all to scour the building. Find Baxter Stockman and put a bullet between his eyes." He ordered, and the soldiers immediately dispersed. The three adult mutants and the six teens from the past were then left in that vast chamber alone. Well, perhaps not entirely alone. The Colonel stared forward along the dark steel of the fortress interior, up at what seemed to be a large, Japanese-style screen door, an elaborate ink painting of a dragon covering its surface. The door slid open, and a man in black and purple stepped out, his face hidden behind the mask of a heavy steel helm.

"You have too much sympathy for your men, Colonel Hamato." Came the deep bellow of the ninja master before them, the last two words spat out as though they were foul-tasting filth. "Sending them away will be the last mistake you ever make."

All nine tensed as though a chilling blast of wind had hit them, each of them clutching tightly at their weapons as they stared across the room into the uncaring eyes of Oroku Saki. The Colonel bared his teeth in a savage smile.

"Don't get too Freudian on me, Shredder. You're the one that's sent all of your robots out to the slaughter. Or haven't you noticed that you're all alone now? We have you outnumbered, and I don't plan on leaving here until I have your head, with or without your body."

The Shredder's eyes narrowed glaringly at the rebel leader.

"Foolish boy…" was his only answer to such an insult. The Shredder then gave a sharp snap of his fingers. Moments later, four huge, grotesque creatures stalked out from the shadows around them, occasional bits of gleaming metal surfacing between hideously over-mutated flesh. The creatures hissed and snapped at the group of intruders, stalking forward on all fours. What little traces of human consciousness they'd had left was wiped out by the mechanical implants buried in their temples.

Leonardo's eyes stared wide at the four creatures as he took a hesitant step back, his katana held defensively in front of him. These creatures, these mutant monsters… He recognized them. One looked skeletal, its black fur hardened into millions of tiny needles all over its body, hollow eyes staring out at them from dark, empty sockets. It only vaguely retained a canine shape anymore. The next creature looked like something one would dredge up out of the deep sea's darkest nightmares. Its scales were like armor grown green with corrosion, its mouth hanging open with the weight of countless huge, dagger-like teeth like those of an angler fish, its eyes glazed over an opaque white. The creature next to it sported gargantuan claws, its massive muscles rippling beneath a patchwork of silver and black striped fur, two huge canine teeth visible on either side of its powerful jaws, a single crimson eye staring hungrily at them. The last was a creature of warped, almost rotten looking flesh, as though it had been exhumed from a shallow grave before being dumped into the Mutagen once more. It bore fierce looking tusks, purple circuitry still glowing under the surface of its pale skin, a tuft of purple mane running down its back.

"Rahzar… Fishface… Tiger Claw… Bebop…" the young ninja leader breathed out, unable to believe his eyes. "Wh-what did Stockman do to them?!"

But Leonardo received no answer. He spotted Seraphim giving the Professor a quick sidelong glance.

"Don, go hide somewhere." He rumbled out in a low voice. The Professor shot the larger turtle an indignant look.

"Hide?! Why should I hide? Wasn't the idea for all of us to fight together?"

"Oh, fer the love of… Don, if you didn't have yer shell on, ya'd be a hundred pounds soakin' wet. You ain't in no shape to be fighting." Seraphim retorted. The Professor seemed to puff his chest out at this accusation, as though trying to prove it wrong.

"Are you kidding? I feel fine! Never bett—ack!" but the scrawny turtle's assurances were cut off when the warped mutant warthog came charging at him. He managed to dive away just in time to avoid getting trampled, scrambling over to hide behind a large pillar.

"O-on second thought, I've always considered fighting to be overrated!"

Chaos erupted throughout the vast chamber. The other three mutant beasts charged forward, attacking the nearest enemy to them. Tiger Claw dashed in front of Seraphim, cutting him off from his attempt at rushing to the Professor's aid. The great white tiger let out a thunderous roar, swiping at the one-eyed turtle with its massive claws. Seraphim ducked under the blow with so little room to spare that the tails of his mask were slashed in half. He brought his sai up as he rose again, burying the blade into the beast's arm. Tiger Claw gave another roar, thrashing to free himself from his attacker. The turtle found himself being thrown across the room, his shell slamming so hard against the wall that it made a sizable dent on impact. He stood up unsteadily, shaking the ringing from his ears as he raised his weapons once more.

"Oh, so yer a big tough pussy cat now, ain't ya? Well, gimmie yer worst, you sorry sonnova bitch!" Seraphim roared, rushing the hulking mutant once more.


The Colonel had to be swift to dodge his opponent's lunging strikes. He knew at a glance that letting himself come into contact with the thousands of needles that Rahzar's fur had become would mean a world of pain for him. He held his kama up in front of his face for some measure of defense, but he could do little more than avoid being touched at the moment. He cursed under his breath. If only he still had his other arm, perhaps he could make some sort of counterstrike. But lamenting over what might have been was useless, and he knew it. He also knew that fighting Rahzar wasn't entirely necessary. He chanced a quick glance past the skeletal canine, at his real opponent. If only he could get past, if only he could get at Shredder himself, he didn't care what else happened.


The six teens from the past had attracted the attention of the final beastly mutant. The abyssal Fishface snapped at the scattering group, aiming to shred any one of them with his monstrous rows of huge teeth. Mikey let out a yelp when the fish's jaws came snapping a bit too close to his tail for comfort.

"Dudes! A little help?!" the youngest of the turtles called out desperately, diving to the side just as the creature made another lunge at him. Leonardo and Raphael managed to flank the fish mutant on either side, thrusting the blades of their weapons into their opponent's sides. Unfortunately, both Leo's katana and Raph's sais seemed to bounce back off of the armored scales covering the beast's body, not leaving a scratch.

"What the heck is this guy made of?!" Raphael growled after another failed attempt at stabbing the damned monster.

"Yo, look out!"

Raph heard the call just in time to jump away from where he ran alongside Fishface, narrowly avoiding getting hit by several of Casey's pucks as they exploded against the creature's armor-like scales. The hot-headed turtle immediately shot the human teen a fierce glare.

"You idiot! You almost hit me!"

"Hey, I said 'look out!'" Casey retorted from behind his hockey mask, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. Raphael wasn't given the chance to argue with him further. Casey's pucks had done as little damage as the rest of them had, but they had succeeded in pulling the fish's attention to the two of them.

"Oh, crap…" Casey muttered as the abyssal monster lunged forward right at him. He held his hockey stick up in a feeble defense, snapping his eyes shut as he expected to be skewered on those huge dagger-like teeth at any moment. When the gruesome end he'd been anticipating never came, he cracked one eye open. Fishface had been stopped dead in his tracks, struggling to move forward in the face of what the beast must have thought was an immovable object. In reality, this 'immovable object' seemed dwarfed by the now-massive fish mutant, its form covered by a thick blue monk's robe, two katana parried across the monster's teeth and holding it at bay with seemingly impossible strength. Casey's eyes widened, recognizing this deceptively humble-looking attire as that of the Brotherhood of Serenity.

"N-no way…"


The Professor hadn't been faring much better than the young group of teens had been. A bit worse, actually, as he no longer carried a weapon on him. All he had was his neutralizing device he'd used on the robots and the Bombers, but that was useless here. The corpse-like mutant beast that was chasing after him didn't run on Triceraton energy. Though it pained him to mistreat an invention of his, the lanky turtle was forced to unstrap the bulky device from his back, tossing it aside as he dashed between support pillars in an effort to evade his pursuer. The thing only served to weigh him down anymore, and he was just barely keeping ahead of the undead warthog as it was.

Bebop, like the others, seemed to run on pure instincts alone anymore. He barreled after the Professor, swiping at him with those deadly tusks of his at any chance he got. He seemed unable to use any of the gadgets that had been fused into his body during his first mutation, likely unaware he could turn invisible at all. Out of shape as he was after five years of confining himself to a small room, the turtle at least had that to be thankful for.

Soon, however, he found himself running out of things to be thankful for at about the same time he'd run out of places to run. He'd been chased into a corner. His back to the wall, the Professor could do little more than watch in terror as the mindless warthog closed in on him. Then, a sardonic smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Well, at least he'd been able to invent something useful there at the end.

Suddenly, there was a loud squeal of pain, and at first the Professor was rather confused that it hadn't come from himself. The zombified Bebop was gone from his field of vision, two trailing strips of fine blue silk fluttering before his face in his place. He traced the strips of cloth until his eyes came to rest on a scarred green head. Brother Zatoichi had the warthog pinned against the wall just next to the Professor, his katana blade driven through the back of the crazed mutant's head. He took his glasses off and stared at them for a moment, as though they might be the cause of this most unlikely of visions, but when he looked back, the robed turtle was still there.

"L-Leo! You actually came!" the lanky turtle stammered out in astonishment. Zatoichi didn't turn his blindfolded eyes towards the other, but he let a small smile grace his lips.

"I am glad that you are well, brother." The monk replied as serenely as ever. He didn't linger to mince words after that, pulling his katana from the dead warthog's skull and dashing off towards where Seraphim was still fighting Tiger Claw. As he ran, he raised his voice to call out to his companion.

"Sister! To your mission!"

The female monk had just stopped Fishface in his tracks when she heard her superior calling out to her. She nodded her head under her heavy hood, leaping backwards and away from the grotesque sea creature. The mutant fish stumbled forward as the force stopping it was suddenly removed from its path. It didn't take long for him to regain his bearing, though. He charged forward once more, his gaping mouth open wide to snap up this new foe. The monk leapt once more, but not backwards. She leapt forward, straight into Fishface's gaping maw.

"Holy crap! Is she out of her damned mind?!" Raphael shouted as he watched those deadly jaws snap shut around the woman. The six teens cringed, fully expecting streams of crimson blood to come pouring from the fish's mouth. A moment later, there was blood, but it wasn't crimson, nor did it come just from the creature's mouth. A thick black substance began leaking out from between the monster's jagged teeth, streams of it running down the front of its face from where the tip of a katana could be seen sticking out through the top of its head. Fishface's body collapsed an instant later, his jaws still closed tight around his killer.

"We've gotta help her!" Leonardo called out once the shock of the moment had subsided. He ran forward, grabbing hold of the dead fish monster's lower jaw and pulling with all his strength. The others joined him, Mikey and April helping him tug at the bottom jaw, while Raph, Donnie, and Casey worked on the top jaw in the opposite direction. Once they had managed to part those blade-like teeth, Leo rushed to reach in and pull the monk out. However, there was nothing left to grab.

"Sh-she's gone!"


Brother Zatoichi came to an abrupt stop as he neared where Seraphim and Tiger Claw were battling. He waited a moment, listening to his surroundings carefully, then casually took a step backward. A moment later, a large mutant turtle came crashing against the wall about where the monk had been standing before he'd moved. He didn't turn towards the other, but he did quirk an eyebrow.

"Greetings, Raphael." He stated calmly, though there was the distinct air of distaste in his tone. There was a growl of anger behind him as his brother jumped up to his feet.

"Oh, well if it ain't Friar Tuck finally come ta join the party! Wuzza matter, ya get bored with yer li'l cult and had ta find someone else ta preach to?!" Seraphim practically roared, fists clenching around his sais as he intentionally towered himself over the robed turtle. Zatoichi didn't seem terribly impressed by the display. Then again, he couldn't see it. Before either could say another word, the both of them abruptly and simultaneously ducked down low in time to avoid being struck by Tiger Claw's lunging talons. The great beast roared in frustration as it attempted to pull its claws from where they'd embedded themselves in the wall, but even this wasn't enough to stop the two brothers' bickering.

"My organization had their role to play, unlike you, who merely spends his days playing with children." The monk replied evenly, as though he was completely oblivious to the deadly claws just inches above his head. Seraphim let out another snarl.

"Oh yeah, big role yer playin' all the way out there in Amish country! I'm sure alla them horses and buggies are gonna come in real handy against the Shredder!"

"Would you kindly explain how Newark is much better?"

The Professor poked his head out from behind a nearby pillar, interjecting in his brothers' arguing without quite exposing himself to attack.

"Fellas, fellas! Y'know, it's great how we're all back together again and getting along just swimmingly and all, but… Is this really the time?!"

Tiger Claw had finally freed himself by this time and was already bringing those talons of his slashing down towards the two turtles. They each leapt to either side, letting the feline's massive paws crash down against the ground between them where they'd been feuding a second ago. Seraphim glared across at Brother Zatoichi, as though the elder turtle was his real enemy.

"Look, why don't you just fuck off and leave this guy to me? Go help Mike if ya gotta butt in. That crippled bastard could use a hand more'n I could." He growled out. Though he was still clearly trying to be belligerent, Zatoichi detected a slight softening in his brother's tone. He gave the other a quick nod of his head before dashing off to help their youngest brother. Seraphim stared after the blind monk for a moment, whispering to himself.

"Good ta see ya again, Leo…"


The Colonel could indeed use the elder turtle's help at the moment. Rahzar had come close to trapping him against the wall, and he had a few dozen long, black needles embedded in his forearm from the encounter, thin streams of blood dripping down his elbow as he kept his kama held up in defense. He cursed Baxter Stockman in his head. If this crazed canine hadn't been mutated to have those damned needles for fur, he'd have jumped on his shoulders, slit his throat and ended this long ago. To be put on the run like this, and when he was so close to Shredder…

But he hadn't the time for internal lamentation. Rahzar was coming for him again and he couldn't afford another close call. The canine lunged, aiming to snap the turtle's remaining arm in his jaws. The Colonel dodged to the side, and finally managed to land a blow on the beast. His kama slashed at the large mutant's leg, bringing him down to his knee and pulling a pained howl from him. Though he'd managed to land a blow, the one-armed turtle knew better than to let his guard down. His kama was raised before him once more, just as Rahzar's claws came slashing towards him. There was the sound of those bony blades ringing against steel, but it wasn't the steel of his kama blade. Rahzar's claws crossed instead with the blade of a katana. The Colonel's eyes widened in shock as he found himself staring at the back of a blue robe.

"Leo?!" he barked out in complete disbelief. Surely he hadn't lost enough blood to be seeing things. Of the four of them, Leonardo was the last of his brothers he'd ever expected to see fighting by his side once more, yet here he was. Brother Zatoichi pushed the skeletal beast back, never turning to properly face his baby brother.

"Go, brother. Kill the Shredder, end this war… and avenge our Sensei."

The Colonel couldn't help but linger a moment, staring after his eldest brother as he immediately took up the fight against Rahzar in his place. Could this really be his chance? He turned towards where the Shredder still stood, staring across the vast chamber into those cold, hate-filled eyes of his father's murderer.

He charged, the rest of the world seeming to fade away into nothingness as he locked his attention on the fiend before him, readying his kama at his side in preparation for his opening strike. He slashed the instant he was close enough, and his blade rang against the steel of Shredder's armored forearm. He didn't wait to give his opponent time to launch a counterstrike, ducking down and aiming a second slash to tear open the old ninja master's stomach. The man stepped back in time to avoid the strike, but it had come close enough to its mark to spark across the surface of his abdominal armor.

Not one to be kept on the defensive, the Shredder aimed his long claw-like blades down at the mutant turtle. The Colonel wasn't willing to put too much distance between himself and his enemy, and thus was unable to completely dodge the blow, the claws slashing into his left shoulder. He ignored the pain. It wasn't important. That arm was gone anyway. He rose up at the ninja master's side, raising his kama for what he intended to be the final blow; slicing the bastard's head clean off.

His blade was stopped just inches before making contact with its target, his wrist caught in a strong, almost crushing grasp. A pair of hard, mismatched eyes glared at the rebel leader from behind that steel mask, his gaze boring into the son of his most hated enemy, he who dared to continue Hamato Yoshi's legacy. His grip tightened on the turtle's wrist, pulling a strangled, reluctant cry of pain from him, his kama falling to the ground with a clatter.

"How very fitting. For one who has wasted so many years fighting in his Master's name…" the Shredder began in a low, venom-laced tone, the claws of his free hand lining up at the now helpless mutant's abdomen. "… to die like him as well."


Seraphim stood over the corpse of the fallen Tiger Claw, his foot braced against the feline's neck as he pulled the blade of his sai from where it had been embedded in his foe's skull. He drew in ragged breaths, the fight having winded him more than he'd thought it might. Perhaps he was starting to get a little too soft after all. Oh well. He'd killed the bastard, that's all that mattered now. And he'd managed to do it without accepting any help from that damned monk.

He glanced over to where he'd sent Zatoichi off to help the Colonel. The eldest of the brothers had just managed to finish off Rahzar as well, carefully prying his katana from where he'd buried it in the mutant canine's chest. The larger turtle's brows furrowed. Where was the Colonel?

That was when he heard it; the strangled cry of pain, the sound of a weapon clattering to the ground. He looked up in the direction the cry had come from, up where Shredder had been watching over their battle. The scene that awaited him there was almost enough to make his heart drop clean out of his chest. The Colonel stood before the armored demon himself, his wrist trapped in the man's grip, the back of his cloak stained with a growing patch of bright red blood. In the center of that patch of blood, sticking out of the back of his baby brother's shell, were the tips of two claw-like blades. The Colonel, Mike, his brother, had been skewered. He'd been run through, just as their Master had been fifteen years ago.

"No!" Seraphim cried out in anguish, sprinting across the room towards the horrifying tableau. "Mikey!"