The next time Don disengaged from the code, he went outside without waiting for Honeycutt to make another suggestion.

It was a long way to the mountain. Again he considered using Speeder Mode. The idea was less off-putting than it had been when he first arrived on Burnow, but still he decided against it. He wasn't in a hurry.

They were making good progress on the reprogramming, stripping the code one line at a time. After making sure Don was protected from Stockman's malware, Honeycutt had patiently taught him what each line was doing, before archiving it in a safe place – exactly where, he wouldn't say – and deleting it from the Technodrome's systems. Don was learning more than he had thought possible about alien technology, and he was looking forward to rebuilding the code base with routines that would make the world a better place, instead of the terraformed hell he was walking through now.

At least he no longer needed to worry about being hot or cold – or about carrying food or water – and on this remote island he was in no danger of being seen. As he struggled up the foothills, he noted the strengths and weaknesses of his new body. Metalhead was even more of a tank than a mutant Turtle was; he could literally bulldoze through just about anything. On the other hand, he was markedly less agile than Don's former self. Don's surreptitious attempts at running and jumping had ended in dismal failure, and any ninja-esque moves were simply out of the question.

So, he reminded himself, was camping out. In his new form he was literally incapable of being away from electrical outlets for too long. If his battery ran down while he was in the mountains, he would be trapped there until someone came for him.

He kept moving.

Around a bend in the rough path he'd been following, he found what he was looking for: a monolithic outcropping of the mountain, smooth and towering.

He got to work.


The good news was that Harold had built Metalhead with some very solid battery life. Don's meter stayed safely in the green zone as he worked through the night. Somewhere before dawn, he stopped, regarded his handiwork, and called Honeycutt.

"Yes, Donatello?"

He struck the most self-satisfied pose his robotic body was capable of. "Want to see me destroy the Technodrome?"

"I most certainly do not," Honeycutt retorted. "Where are you?"

"I'm sending my coordinates," Don replied, and did so. "Meet me." Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

It didn't take long for Honeycutt to arrive. He was faster than Don - more used to his robotic form, or maybe just more nimbly-built.

"Donatello," he snapped, as soon as he came over the last rise into view, "we have talked about –" He trailed off as he looked up, and up some more. "Oh my."

Don turned his head to look at the stone Technodrome he had cut, with Metalhead's laser cannon, from the stone monolith. The replica was not exact in every detail – he lacked his namesake's sculptural talent – but he was pleased with the menacing eye that crowned the carving. He gave Honeycutt a moment to appreciate what he had accomplished. Then -

"Hold on to your hard drive," he said, and with one well-aimed laser pulse, he blasted the faux-Technodrome to smithereens.

The pulverized stone rained down across the end of the island, across the remaining lobes of the mountain, and then there was silence.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Honeycutt asked.

"I…" Don stared through the spot where the outcropping had been, and out to sea. "No. Why did I just destroy more of Burnow Island?"

"A very good question."

Don hung his head. His desire for destruction was completely spent. What had he proved by dominating a defenseless pile of rock? He felt like a bully and a jerk.

"I – I need to go recharge," he said at last. "Then, we're going to make this island right."

Honeycutt looked at him, and the rock-strewn landscape, skeptically. "How do you intend to do that?"

Don gestured to the lowlands, to the remnants of the battle. "We're going to bury these soldiers."


It was the right thing to do. It was the honorable thing to do. Plus, it gave him a chance to see whether any of the bodies belonged to the Shredder.

They quickly established a rhythm. Honeycutt checked each body, uploading identification data into his archives. Then Don cut the outline of a grave with the laser cannon in his left hand, and used the Anti-Gravity Gauntlet in his right hand to lift out the chunk of soil, slide in the body, and replace the earth.

He tried not to let the routine become mechanical.

Sure, they were Foot soldiers, and weird alien warriors who seemed to be made out of rock. Sure, they had been fighting for deranged masters who wanted to conquer the planet. But they had served their masters loyally, and given their lives in combat. On some level, Donatello could respect that. He could give the soldiers a decent burial, as he would want an enemy to do for him.

As he worked, he couldn't help thinking about his own body, lying uninhabited in Harold's lab. He was a casualty of this war too, and when he got home it would be time to bury himself.

Or maybe, he thought, not just yet.

The sun was sinking over the water as they interred the last fallen warrior, and Don looked out across the landscape: the dead bodies gone from view, the island instead dotted with low hills of earth, each casting a long shadow in the last of the evening light.

"No Shredder," Don said, after what seemed like a respectful interval of silence.

Honeycutt shook his head. "I am afraid my sensors detected no sign of him."

Don could sense the Professor watching his reaction closely. "I can't say I'm looking forward to breaking that news to Master Splinter," he said. "But… it is what it is. I'm sure we'll see him again, but I'm in no hurry to chase him down."

"Let us finish our work here, then," Honeycutt said, turning to begin the walk back towards the Technodrome. Its eye was glowing dull red, reflecting the crimson rays of the setting sun.

"No, hold on," Don said, and waited for Honeycutt to stop. "Remember how you told me any shortcomings of robotic bodies could be fixed with an upgrade?"

"Certainly."

Don glanced once more at the sunset, then turned east, towards the moonrise. "There's something I want you to do for me."