Michelangelo awoke to the smell of filthy animal bedding and blood, his mind still in a fog from the chloroform used on him earlier. He let out a groan of discomfort as he picked himself up from the cold, filthy brick floor, a few strands of straw sticking to his face even as he shook his head. He looked around to see where he'd been taken. He was in what almost looked like a dungeon cell, the floor lined with dirty old straw that smelled like an old barn house. There was hardly any light coming in from the small barred window mounted in the heavy cell door, just enough that he could make out the large cage at the back of the cell not unlike the ones he'd seen in the cellar of the church.
It was clear he wasn't this cell's first occupant. It reeked of Manpig, though there was no sign of one of those beasts sharing the cramped prison with him currently. Mikey sat against the back wall, wedging himself between the cage and the corner of the cell, hugging his knees close to his chest. He couldn't believe he'd been tricked like that... Raphael had used him this whole time, he'd pretended to help him when all he wanted was to restart that hellish machine for his own purposes. He could still hear the echoes of Hamato Yoshi's voice in his head, the chilling sound of the Machine calling for 'more pig'. Just the thought of it sent a chill up the back of his shell.
He felt so stupid... So useless... He should have seen it sooner, should have known this world's turtles couldn't be trusted the moment he'd seen what they'd done to Leatherhead. Now it was too late. Leatherhead was dead, and he was trapped in this dungeon. Of course, even if he could get out, what could he do about it? The Machine was operational once again thanks to him, free to carry out whatever twisted purposes it was built to fulfill. How could he stop it when he didn't know the first thing about it? If only he were smarter, he could do it. If only he had Donnie there with him...
Suddenly, a bright light flashed into the cell from the opening in the door. Mikey had to shield his eyes with his hand to keep from being blinded, though he did try to peek past to see who was there. He could only make out a vague silhouette of a figure, the light from a lantern obscuring anything else beyond it.
There was a loud mechanical clank, followed by the groan of steel on steel. The lantern light went away, and the sound of footfalls echoed down the corridor as they traveled away. Mikey, finally able to see again, looked up to find the cell door had been unlocked, now sitting open several inches. The young ninja knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth in a place like this. He jumped up to his feet, dashing out of the cell before the footsteps could fade away completely.
Mikey now found himself standing in a narrow brick corridor, heavy metal doors just like the one he'd just passed through lining the walls. It was like some sort of old prison block, though he doubted that it had ever housed any true criminals. The small lights mounted near the cell doors offered little light, but there was just enough that he could still see where he was going... And just little enough that he could still see his mysterious emancipator's lantern light in the darkness ahead.
Mikey sprinted after the mysterious figure, eager to find out just who else could have found their way this deep into the machine. Raphael wouldn't have gone to all the trouble to knock him unconscious and toss him into a holding cell only to just let him free like this, but who else knew he was down there?
A loud, screeching roar ripped Mikey from his thoughts as he passed through a spot where the winding corridors of the prison intersected. The young turtle gasped, instinctively diving away as a Manpig came charging at him from the right. He snapped his eyes shut, fully expecting the hammer-blow of the beast's hoof to come crashing down on his head at any moment. It never came.
Mikey looked up just in time to watch the Manpig as it was swept off its feet, crashing onto its back with a loud thud. It took a moment for him to register what had happened to it, but he saw as the poor brute got up and hobbled back to its cage at the far end of the dead-end corridor; there was a thick chain around its neck, anchoring it securely to this cramped little area. It had been jerked back by the neck when it had run out of slack in the chain.
The ninja got up to his feet once more, watching for a moment as the Manpig curled up in the filthy straw that made up its bed, trembling and covering its head as though it were expecting to be punished for its behavior. Mikey couldn't help but feel sorry for the creature. It wasn't its fault. None of this was. It was just like Leatherhead; a victim of his alternate's twisted experiments. He had to remind himself that these Manpigs were once human beings. They had nothing to do with all this before they'd been mutated.
Not wanting the trail he was following to grow cold, Mikey had to leave the poor beast and hurry down the corridor once more. This mysterious fellow didn't seem too concerned with being followed, leaving doors open behind him as he proceeded forward through the labyrinthine bowels of the Machine. His chase led him over metal catwalks and brick paths, past more holding cells and soon through massive blocks of machinery once more. It wasn't until he found himself winding through a jungle of massive brass pipes that he encountered his first real obstacle.
There was a loud bang up ahead, followed by a roar of steam. The already considerably uncomfortable level of humidity in the area more than doubled in that instant, his path filling with a hot haze. He soon came upon the cause of this: a pipe that had been ripped out of place and was now billowing steam into the area. He could hear more bangs up ahead, followed by more steam. Whoever he was following seemed to be breaking anything they could possibly get their hands on. Suddenly, Mikey realized who he'd been following, who had freed him. It had to be the saboteur.
"Hey! Wait up! I wanna talk to ya!" Mikey called out through the vast steam room, vaulting over intact pipes and blocks of machinery as he pursued whoever it was that had been trying to destroy this mass of rotten architecture this whole time. His calls seemed to have been heard, as soon enough he was blinded by the light of a lantern once more. The figure set the lantern down on the ground, finally allowing the ninja to see who it was. Mikey couldn't help but draw in a sharp gasp of surprise as he found himself staring up into a pair of very familiar hazel eyes.
"D-Donnie..?" he stammered out, now utterly confused. It was Donatello all right. There was no mistaking the lanky turtle even in that soot-stained gray suit. The purple bow around his neck was hanging loose, his entire appearance quite a bit more disheveled than the last time he'd seen him, likely from crawling around in the Machine. But why? Why would he willingly try to destroy the Machine he'd helped create?
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Donatello whispered out, a look of deep sadness on his face, guilt weighing heavily on the lanky turtle. "I wish I could say I'd never meant for any of this to happen, but... I am just as guilty as the others. Perhaps more so, as I'd done nothing to stop it before now..."
Michelangelo stared at Donatello for a long while, still not understanding. Raphael seemed so heartless, so callous, so unrepentant for what he and his brothers had done, so why, of all of them, would Donatello be the only one that seemed to have a conscience? He could tell the guilt in his eyes was genuine, he could tell it was hurting him inside. Now he was starting to get what Donatello had promised to put right when he'd first arrived.
"I tried... By God, did I try... I'd stalled the pumps, broken everything I could, but..." he paused, letting out a shaky sigh and looking away, as if too ashamed to make eye-contact. "I couldn't... I stood before it, stared into its eyes, into its very soul, but... I simply couldn't bring myself to do it... I could no more destroy this Machine than a boy could kill his own father, and for that... I am damned for cowardice..."
Donatello turned away from Mikey, attempting to continue down through the steam room, but the ninja dashed forward to cut him off.
"It's not over yet!" Mikey insisted as he blocked the other turtle's path. "You may not be able to kill this thing, but I ain't got a damn problem with takin' it out myself. Just show me where to go, tell me what to do. I'll make sure this thing can't fuck with anyone else ever again."
Donatello couldn't help but stare down at the shorter turtle for a long moment, not believing what he was hearing. There was a small spark of hope in his eyes, though.
"Y-you... You would take this burden upon yourself? But... I could never ask something like that of you... This isn't your battle. You've nothing to do with all this."
"Yeah, well I do now."
Donatello stared down at Mikey for a long moment, looking him over as if wondering if he was physically up to the task. After a while, he let out a soft sigh.
"Very well... Follow me." Donatello replied after a moment, picking up his lantern and starting off down one of the catwalks that winded through the steam pipes. Michelangelo found himself once again following behind a strange, alternate version of one of his own brothers. Of course, the thought did cross his mind that this could be another trick, but why? Raphael had him locked up where he couldn't cause any trouble, he'd gotten what he wanted. What could he or the Machine possibly gain by letting him out once more?
"To rid the world of this hellish Machine once and for all, you must destroy the Orb." Donatello began to explain as he led the way through the pipes.
"'Orb'? What's that?" Mikey asked as he ducked under a low pipe, finding it slightly difficult to keep up with the other turtle, who likely had a much better idea of the obstacles in their path than he did.
"It's a stone, a jewel of exceptional power. Father had found it in an Aztec temple in Mexico. He told us how he could hear it singing to his soul the instant he touched it, how it whispered the secrets of the future to him in his dreams. It told him how to make a substance capable of morphing life itself to his whims and, ultimately, how to create us. But... There is a cost for such knowledge. The Orb leeched Father's very life-force from his body, leaving him sick and frail. Eventually, Father could not survive without the Orb keeping him alive, so he let it have him... Body and soul..."
"Wait... Ya mean he's dead?!" Mikey asked, shocked to hear that. Raphael had said Hamato Yoshi was merely sick, not dead!
"Yes... and no. His body is technically alive, but it's often hard to tell if there's anything left of his mind beyond what the Orb has claimed for itself, and his body... Well, he'd become so frail that Michelangelo had to use part of the Machine itself as a life-support system for him. He's still in here, at the core. No... perhaps it's more accurate to say that he is the core. He is the Machine."
Mikey stopped dead in his tracks when he heard that. No, it couldn't be... He'd hoped the Machine was merely using his Master's voice to taunt him, but... Could it really be possible that Hamato Yoshi himself was the dark mind controlling this vast contraption? And what about the Orb? If that's what was keeping Hamato alive, if that's what he had to destroy to end all this... Did that mean he had to kill an alternate version of his own Sensei to carry out this deed? He wasn't sure he could do that. He'd never killed anything, he'd never even thought of killing anyone, even after Raphael carelessly did away with Leatherhead.
"I-is... Is there any other way? I mean... Without havin' ta kill anyone?" he asked hesitantly, jogging to catch up with the other turtle.
"Do you have a father, sir?" Donatello asked without ever looking back. Mikey blinked in confusion at the question.
"Uhh... Yeah. My Sensei, Splinter..."
"I see... And what if your Sensei had become a faint wisp of his former self? If his mind had been consumed by a force beyond your comprehension? I can only vaguely remember what Father was like before finding that damnable Orb, having viewed him through the eyes of a simple pet turtle, but... I know, were he in his right mind, he would not wish to live like this. This is not murder, Michelangelo. This is mercy."
Mikey felt himself grow numb at that last word. Mercy. Yes, the same sort of 'mercy' Raphael had shown Leatherhead. But he wasn't anything like that heartless bastard! He couldn't do something like that, especially to an alternate of his own father!
Donatello stopped suddenly, almost causing his follower to run right into his back. Mikey watched as the light from the lantern was aimed upward, shining on a vent just above their heads.
"I'm afraid you'll have to find your own way to the core from here."
"Wh-what?! You're not comin' with me?"
"I... I can't..." Donatello began, hanging his head in shame. "I'd be a liability if I accompanied you. The blue water of the Orb runs through my veins. I could be influenced by its power if I dared step foot in front of it once more, especially after all I've done to defy it..."
"B-but... I have no idea where I'm going! I'll be lost for years in here!"
"You... You've heard it, haven't you? The Machine's voice like a specter whispering in your ear?" he asked, receiving a nod from Mikey. "Then you have all you need to find him. Follow his voice, chase the icy chill it leaves in your heart. It will lead you to him, to his blackened temple."
Mikey looked up at the vent, letting out a reluctant groan. So he was supposed to navigate this wretched place all by himself? But... What other choice did he have? Donatello handed him the lantern, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Michelangelo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey ahead. He clipped the lantern to his belt before climbing the ladder up to the vent.
Donatello stared up at the vent for a long while, until long after the light from the lantern had faded down the pipes. He let out a heavy sigh, turning away to navigate back through the dark corridors of the steam room.
"Good luck, brother... And God forgive me for what I've left you to face."
Michelangelo found himself crawling along what felt like miles of cramped, dusty ventilation pipes, searching out the heart of the very monster he was currently wandering through. He'd never felt more alone in his life than he did now. He needed his Master's guidance, he needed his brothers there to help him stay strong. There was Donatello, but... He wasn't sure what to think about him just yet, not after all he'd seen here.
It wasn't long before the pipes started growing cold. Mikey could feel the cool breeze on his cheeks coming from up ahead, his breath coming out in puffs of fog. He recalled what Donatello had said earlier about following the icy chill in his heart... Well, if this wasn't cold enough, he didn't know what was. He soon came upon the source of the chill; a large fan pulling in cold air from another section of the Machine. He braced himself against the walls of the pipe, using both of his feet to kick the fan out, letting it clatter to the ground below.
The young ninja dropped down to the floor, covering the light of his lantern out of habit as he quickly dashed to the nearest available cover. He hid behind a large tank of frigid liquid, straining his ears to listen for even the slightest hint of movement. He knew the dangers of this place by now. He wasn't about to make the same careless mistakes he'd made before. It was time to start acting like a real ninja.
Mikey peeked out around the coolant tank after hearing nothing in the immediate area. He could see nothing. He chanced a look with his lantern, casting the light down the narrow corridor between tanks. There was neither hide nor hair of any of those Manpigs around, just endless rows of coolant tanks.
He wasn't about to sit there and wait around for them to find him there. He wanted to get to the heart of this mechanical monstrosity and get this whole ordeal behind him as soon as possible. He dashed through the coolant tanks, navigated through to further sections of this frigid area. The world outside the coolant room was just as dark and lonely as the rest of the Machine, albeit a bit cleaner. Steel catwalks gave way to stone flag floors, the large, cumbersome machinery replaced by more precise equipment kept safely behind sealed glass. He was getting closer. He had to be.
Suddenly, there was a loud sound like a clash of thunder. Mikey skidded to a halt, darting back behind the wall of glass-encased devices. He peeked out tentatively, trying to stay behind cover as he tried to see what had made that deafening sound. He spied what looked to be a room within the room, separated from the rest by huge glass walls. Beyond the glass were many large drum-shaped objects mounted into the floor. They were huge power transformers, elegant bolts of electricity arcing between them every now and then.
Mikey snuck forward, circling around the glass room until he came upon a gap in the wall. He entered the vast electrical array with uncharacteristic caution, taking care not to get too close to the transformers. The last thing he wanted after all this effort was to be killed by electrocution in here.
Another sharp crack of thunder nearly made the young ninja jump right out of his shell. He turned around just in time to see the remnant of a particularly large arc of electricity jump between the transformers. He let out a shaky breath. If he'd been just a bit slower, he'd be fried right now. He didn't want to take that chance again. He took off through the array as fast as he dared, weaving through the rows of transformers in his search for the exit out to the next corridor.
Yet another crack of thunder sounded behind him, closer this time. He didn't dare look back at it. Small explosions then began to follow after him, darkness approaching hot on his heels as the light bulbs above gradually began blowing out from the sudden surge of power in the system. Mikey cursed under his breath. Did the Machine know he was there? Did it know what he was trying to do? Was this its way of trying to stop him?
There was another crack of thunder, this time right in front of him. He skidded to a stop once more, diving to the ground and shielding his eyes against the blinding light that the arc of electricity produced. When the chaos died down, Michelangelo found himself plunged into utter darkness. No, not quite complete darkness...
Mikey's eyes widened when they adjusted enough to make out the figure now standing in front of him, his blood running ice cold as though he'd just seen a ghost. Blue veins glowed under the skin of a dark silhouette, two big blue eyes staring down at him from just a few feet away. The deep burn mark in his plastron ached when he realized where he'd seen something like this before.
"L-Leatherhead..." he breathed out, but it wasn't him. It couldn't be. He'd watched him die with his own eyes. No, this figure was quite a bit smaller than Leatherhead, smaller even than Michelangelo. Curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly turned his lantern on and pointed it at the figure before him. He regretted it instantly.
Standing before him at a mere four feet tall, staring down at him through a pair of very familiar blue eyes was a young mutant turtle, tattered remains of a royal blue blazer hanging off his blackened form. He recognized the turtle's face at once, though it had been many years since he'd seen him so young. It was the only one of his brothers he hadn't seen in this world yet.
It was Leonardo.