He felt a scorching beam of hot pink light whiz by his ear and ducked his head lower as he ran, biting his bottom lip against the stream of curses threatening to blow up like Pop Rocks on his tongue. As much as his muscles ached to whirl around and unleash a sai-stabbing fury on the Kraang bots behind him, he knew if he did he'd lose the striped blue trail of his fearless—or what was more, oblivious—leader.
Already, he and the throng of alien robots were falling significantly behind in the chase. Karai was a mere pearl-colored smudge against the blackened pavement and mass of shadows crisscrossing along the cemented city. Leonardo, cutting through the arrogant New York night-wash with his torso bowed and his arms skimming behind him, though losing ground himself, was still a good thirty yards ahead of the rest of the game.
Raph had given up trying to threaten his brother to a halt when his voice had cracked on the last bellow. Despite the leader's sharpened sense of hearing, he was too far ahead to mind Raph's yelling and he'd already been doing a fabulous job of ignoring it anyway. Now Raph just hoped he'd either pick up some speed somewhere, or the leading mutants would tire and slow down. So far, neither one of these odds seemed very promising.
He had also given up on slowing down the Kraang. They weren't interested in him or his brother now that an apparently greater threat had been released. But the pathetic alien front was no closer to catching Karai than Raphael. Despite the fact that they were terrible shots and had apparently screwed depth perception and kept skimming lasers by his shell rather than getting anywhere near Karai with their assault, he wasn't worried about them. It was the scattered black mass of Footbots leaping from roof to roof led by the feline silhouette of Tigerclaw, which he'd noticed hardly thirty seconds after bursting out of the TCRI building, that had his blood boiling less with anger and more on a double dose of adrenaline, especially since Leonardo seemed astoundingly ignorant to the third party of pursuers now tailing Karai.
"Kraang must do the apprehending of the one that is known as Karai before the one that is known as Karai is apprehended by the ones who are not Kraang," said a bot not far behind the red-banded turtle.
"Agreed, Kraang," responded another. "But it would appear that Kraang's body does not contain the appropriate speed that is needed of Kraang to do the apprehending of the one that is called Karai."
"Kraang also agrees with Kraang, this is that which they call problematic."
Raph gritted his teeth and chucked a shuriken over his shoulder. It guiltlessly decapitated one of the speaking bots, and though the clatter of metal hitting the pavement jumped on top of the cacophony of lasers and metallic footfalls, the squeal of an alien brain was lost to the night.
"Why doesn't Kraang just shut up and bow out?" he said to the other bot that had been conversing with its now disabled jogging buddy.
"The turtle that is the turtle which is known as Raphael is that which they call insolent."
He chucked another shuriken and the second bot was nearly trampled by his Kraang kin.
"Well the one called alien shit is that which they call annoying as hell."
"The ones called the turtles should, as you have called 'bow out' before the turtles are turtles that are permanently eliminated. The one called Karai shall be captured by Kraang," threatened yet another bot.
These guys were like giant silver ants that had claimed New York as their own personal mound. They were everywhere.
"Bite me," Raph spat back.
"Kraang does not follow the orders which are orders that come from the ones who are called turtles. And Kraang does not enjoy the taste of that which is known as a delicacy."
Raph planted his heels in the asphalt and whipped his fist around in time to drive his sai into the eye socket of the bot that had spoken. "How's that for a delicacy, you C3PO knockoff?"
A flurry of hot pink ribbons suddenly blew to the right and began attacking him, biting his skin with small alien burns all over his arms and legs, grazing across his shell and nipping his cheeks and the crown of his head. He released his inner, rage monster and buried his sais in the metal skulls of Kraang bots that dropped at his feet faster than he could count them.
They were even as easy to take a boot to as a colony of ants, but every time he cut one down another took its place and soon the block was crawling with squealing pink blobs. A heap of metal bodies began to pile up at his ankles, giving him less room to maneuver and more things to trip on. He leapt high onto the shoulders of one Kraang and wrenched its neck clean off of its body, flung the head at another droid, and flattened a third as he jumped off of the fallen.
A rosy flash did a little more than graze by the rim of his shell and he could feel his entire carapace shutter as the laser burned an inch-long V-shape out of his hardened exterior, leaving two seconds of wispy smoke in its wake. His growl was lost in the sound of crumpling metal and electrical popping as he pounced on the bot that had shot him and shredded it apart with his sais.
The remaining Kraang, in turn, amassed on him and he flailed his limbs to buck them off, but the pile-on only grew. His thrashing appendages were snatched up by cold metal fingers and forced to be still.
Through the muddled configuration of metallic body parts, he could no longer distinguish what arm or head belong to what bot, but one of them positioned the barrel of its laser gun against his plastron. Raph's muscles quivered with strain and he gritted his teeth.
Before the shot was fired, however, his ear distinctly picked up the echoes of high-pitched yipping and then the gun was gone with a crash of metal on metal and blurs of black plowed into the pile of Kraang that had wrestled him to the ground.
As soon as one arm was free, his sliced the rest of his way out of the heap and stumbled back on his feet, for a moment, just staring at the scene before him with a furrowed brow and a heaving chest, the grip on his sais a little less concentrated.
He was surrounded by metallic figures of black and silver, butting robotic heads quite literally with one another as the Footbots fledged a full frontal attack on the Kraang. Squidgy, pink aliens popped out of their metallic bodies and took off squealing at triple the speed they had when it was just Raph's one-man front against the alien droids. The Foot wielded their extra appendages and extensive arsenal of ninja weapons like they were attacking an overgrown field of wheat—and the grains were practically bowing before the blows. The steady horizontal rain of lasers became more of a drizzle, and soon Raph was witnessing whole Kraang bots retreating down the street.
For a full twenty seconds, he stood there, untouched, witnessing a robot massacre with his arms hanging limp by his sides and his head titled in disbelief … Until he was rammed in the back and his plastron struck the black pavement. He whirled around, growling, and faced a trio of Footbots that were standing at the ready, towering over him, armed with more weapons than anything with less than four hands could rightly brandish.
He launched himself to his feet, kicking down the Foot in the middle, and ducked immediately as the other two launched directly aimed strikes for his head. One of the bot's blades sank into the chest of the other. He leapt with a whirling kick that caught the standing Footbot in the back of the neck, and stomped it into the ground with his heel. Without missing a beat, he snatched a sword out of the bot's hand and ran it through the titanium stomach of the middle bot that had just gotten back on its feet.
Five heads snapped in his direction, eyes flashing red as low robotic drones reverberated through the shadows. He ran and was pursued by a chorus of disjointed yipping. It was now black steel stars and shuriken that whizzed by his head and this time the assailants had better aim. He sprinted in a haphazard, completely aimless pattern, and yet still managed to get a throwing star lodged in his shell.
He was starting to break a sweat now. While the Kraang weren't exactly martial arts masters, their quantity had nearly overwhelmed his quality, and now that they were out of the game, the third party had somewhat of both … He was just one turtle. And again, as much as he'd like to believe he was stronger, faster, and ten times more skilled than reality held him accountable for, there was a reason he was part of a team.
His green eyes darted around the dappled streets of the same neighborhood he and his brothers had practically taken guardianship of, but there were no mutant turtles besides himself to be found. He glanced behind him quickly and his gaze met nothing but robot ninjas chucking shuriken at his head. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, had he been aware that he was giving up his sights on Leo when he had engaged the Kraang, but where the hell were Donnie and Mikey?
He stuttered a step as the network of nerves running up and down his leg spasmed just long enough for the Footbots tailing him to converge on him like flies to a picnic table. Multiple hands grabbed at his limbs but he did not allow himself to be dragged to the ground this time.
He thrust his spire into the gut of the ninja directly in front of him and held his breath for the whole ten seconds it took for a film of reddened rage to cast the city in bloody shadows as he sliced and stabbed through the heads, stomachs, and limbs of the remaining robots. It wasn't until the last one dropped - its eyes blackening and leaving behind a cold shell of mutilated alloy - that he unhitched his jaw and started breathing again, standing over the small pile of lifeless droids as his plastron heaved and beads of sweat soaked into his mask.
His emerald eyes swiveled around the empty street, absorbing the silent black in the air and the thinness of a sparse atmosphere. And it remained just that—empty.
He sucked in a large breath and let it out slowly, wiping his glistening brow with his bandaged wrist. He stuck his sais in his belt and kicked a lifeless Footbot out of his way as he marched toward the nearest alley, hopped up, and latched onto the bottom rung of a steel ladder hanging from the fire escape suspended about ten feet above the trash-strewn nook.
There was a slightly stronger breeze leaping across the rooftops that tugged on the tails of his mask and cooled his stinging skin. He rolled his shoulder back a few times as his eyes scanned the skyline for movement, and his ears honed on the uncharacteristic silence of the city. His stomach roiled uncomfortably, and he attempted to shake the growing anxiety from the tips of his fingers, tempted to withdraw his sais again just to have some security in his hands, to feel like he knew what he was doing, that he wasn't at a loss, that he hadn't lost track of all three of his brothers.
He thought about shouting out to them, but second guessed the notion just before his older brother's name could bellow past his lips. His voice would just attract more unwanted attention.
It was always in the after-the-fact moments that he started to feel the exhaustion in his limbs, as they quivered with the attempt to rejuvenate themselves without aid of water or rest, and the full hindrance of whatever injuries he'd managed to acquire. He wasn't exactly up to fighting off another horde of robots by himself.
Usually by this time, he and his brothers would have made it home, sometimes even before the pain started to set in. It wasn't too often that they were unintentionally separated like this and that was because Leo usually had his head on straight and knew how to keep the team converged in one place, even if that one place tended to jump around. But tonight … Tonight Leo's head had launched itself into outer space in a matter of seconds. They could've been home half an hour ago, but no. The supposed leader had to pull a Mikey and screw the whole mission by completely dismissing their entire plan. What was the point of even making a plan to begin with?
Raph's eyes darted to the left as he caught a blurred spot of orange. He squinted about three blocks down his ten o'clock and saw Tigerclaw skimming the skies, a blue flame flaring about where his tail should have been.
Raphael clenched his fists and ran, forcing his limbs to reawaken and remain alert as he leapt clear across alleyways until he was running parallel with the floating, mutant tiger and could make out three figures of black keeping pace with the giant cat.
The red-banded warrior extracted his sais.
In his one full year of experience hopping buildings, he had learned that it was better to simply not think before making a jump. The best way to clear an extended hurdle was just to go for it. So, with a running start, he launched himself across the street, eyes on the face of his target, and drove his sais into the bricks of the adjacent building before gravity won out.
His arms shook with excessive adrenaline and he forced himself to pause and breathe, reign in his pulse, and check to make sure his stomach was still with him before he climbed up the face of the building and resumed jumping effortlessly across alleyways.
Tigerclaw was directly at his twelve o'clock now, close, but not so much that Raph's silent sprinting could be detected just yet. The three Footbots leapt down into an alley and Raph followed their black arc with his eyes and caught a glimpse of something white. He ran closer along the edge of the building and saw both Karai's band of pearly scales and Leo's katana-donned shell about ten yards behind her, running along the street way.
Raphael pushed his legs harder, taking each leap across the alleys a little more sloppily. He wasn't going for perfection now though. He was just aiming to get to his brother before the imitation ninjas or the cat did.
After one particularly wide gap gave him a noisy landing, Tigerclaw snapped his head over his shoulder and his deep guttural growl seemed to make the entire atmosphere tremble.
"Footbots!" he shouted.
But Raph had already gotten himself into position. He dove into the alley ahead, kicking off the wall on his way down to lessen the weight of his landing, and shot out into the street, placing himself directly between the advancing Footbots and his brother. Their yipping became excited, like a pack of hyena cubs that had just been given something juicy to chase, making the air itself coil with the height of their pitchy laughter.
They advanced on him quickly, but it took only two high-placed kicks and four inches of lost ground to send one bot crashing into another before he turned back to sprinting after his brother just in time to duck to the side as a throwing star whistled past and struck a stop sign. He sensed Tigerclaw's hovering presence drawing near and looked up to see him gliding overhead, cat-eyes glinting with dark determination and narrowed on the slithering white mutant up ahead.
Raph's head snapped to the left as he heard the growl of an engine—the kind that powered eighteen-wheeled semis that hazardously barreled down narrow streets, always in a hurry to make its designated drop and be on its way, careless of any smaller vehicles, pedestrians, dogs, cats, escaped zoo animals, or mutant turtles and snakes that might happen upon its predetermined path.
The turtle in red glanced up at the intersection that he, Leo, Karai, and the tagalong Footbot were all about to spear through. The flood of white-yellow headlights had already spilled across the black asphalt. Karai's scales reflected the manmade beams in glittering ripples of silver and purple, and a rousing, deep-bellied honk shook the air, drowning Raph's voice as he shouted out his brother's name.
Karai would make it. Leonardo would not.