This is the most dangerous idea she's ever had.

After recovering from the shock of her short lived battle with Jewel, Clara had managed to climb out of the hole before the police arrived. Fear spiked her when the sirens approached closer, so she ducked out before the cars had appeared.

Now she's flipping over the water tower, landing soundlessly on her feet, moving like an agile cat. She's crazy, absolutely insane. Nuts, even.

But she can't lose Brittney, she just can't. She's already lost Jewel. If Shredder so much raised a hand on her...well, Clara doesn't know what she'll do.

So far she was going off on spontaneity; there is no plan constructing in her head, only instinct. Brit was in trouble, Clara's plan was to rush into the fray and rescue her friend.

It's horribly impulsive, she knows. Based on Jewel's stories, Shredder was a highly skilled martial arts master that was rivaled by Hamato Yoshi. And while Clara certainly knew her way around a fight, beating someone packed with years of experience over her was practically signing away her life. It would be a miracle if she could even land a hit.

But she has to try, at least. Maybe the Shred-head won't be at his precious lair tonight. And even for a master of ninjitsu, there's no way he could see shadows sneaking in, right?

"I am so screwed," she mutters under her breath, through the thick black fabric of her scarf. She quickens her sprint, leaping off the edge of a building, high in the air. The wind slaps her across the face, stinging in her eyes, before gravity brings her down to earth and she's taking off again across another rooftop.

She slows down once she finds the building several yards away. She stands on the edge, staring long and hard at it, arms hung loosely at her sides. There's nothing significant about its' appearance, it looked like an ordinary church building. Of course there was the cliche of the deception of appearances. Leatherhead was certainly proof of the notion.

Closing her eyes, brows creasing, Clara exhales, trying to ease the nerves pricking at her skin. Her fingers twitch at her sides, swallowing acid down her throat. Her chest feels tight, expelling air, and her stomach churns at the thought of taking Shredder on one-on-one. But she just had to try, didn't she? If not, then what was the point of hoping?

Opening her eyes, her expression hardens with determination, leaping off the edge of the building silently. She sneaks across the back, stiffening when she hears the robotic whine of the Footbots. One turns and she lunges, ripping the head off just as another sprints towards her. With the flick of her wrist, her whip is out and she cracks the weapon, striking the head. Sparks crackle from where their heads were previously, lying uselessly on the ground.

Without giving the bots a second glance, she creeps towards the entrance of the window, slipping in easily. Her shoulders immediately become rigid with anxiety, swallowing it down as she squirts, giving the room a once over. It's dark in here, so it makes it more difficult, but she makes out the silhouette of Kuro Kabuto, familiar from the pictures Jewel had shown her months ago.

With a deep breath, Clara's physical form fades into the dark shadow, sliding down the wall. She glues herself to the wall to say hidden from Saki's peripheral vision, before she pauses once she is closer to the throne. Brows furrowing, she finds that the infamous helmet of the vile man rests on the seat, absent of the bulky, metal decked master. Her hands twitch, but she sets them down. While tempted, now wasn't the time to steal his precious hat.

Shaking her head, her gaze darts across the room, searching for a hidden passageway for a cell of some kind, or another room where he might hold his prisoners. The photo Tiger Claw had shown her earlier was of Brittney gagged and tied up in an empty, dark cell.

She perks up when she finds a coffin-shaped door several feet away, adjacent to the throne. She starts to bolt for it, halting in her tracks when the door slides upwards.

A bead of sweat trickles down her head.

A heavily scarred man strides out from the mysterious door, and despite the metal, his steps are soundless. The glare of the moonlight catches on the metal armor on his chest, and Clara lifts a hand over her eyes to conceal them from the bright flash.

She startles violently when she hears the 'shling!' of the blades in his gauntlet unsheathing. She freezes like a deer in the headlights when her eyes meet his, staring deeply and darkly. His voice is deep and ominous when he speaks.

"Do you take me for a fool, young child? I can see your illusion clear as day."

Crap, she thinks to herself, a pit of dread in her stomach. Swallowing thickly, her physical form returns and she pales under his dark stare.

Refusing to back down, she steels herself for a confrontation, running her tongue across her lip. "You have a friend of mine," she says, her tone steady and strong. "And I want her back."

To her surprise, the man chuckles, the sound sinister and chilling. Her spine straightens as she feigns confidence, hopefully to impose intimidation. But this man was not one to be threatened into submission, she observes. Clearly the Shredder was more dangerous than she anticipated. But her willpower was stronger than a century old clan; she could figure it out, in spite of the metal obstacle towering over her.

"Is this the young girl you speak of?" Shredder asks, showing her a photo of Brittney. She glances at it, frowning.

"Yes," she says tightly, her whole body hot with nerves, fingers twitching at her sides. "Listen here, Shredder, and listen good. I am not some novice who stumbles and trips in a fight. I have taken down men far lesser than you and I hardly broke a sweat. Release my friend this instant or there will be a consequence to pay."

"You are young," Shredder dismisses with a derisive sniff, "and overconfident. What makes you, an inexperienced child, believe that you can truly beat me?"

Fuck.

"I have powers," Clara blurts out, because her advantage has become her standard. She has no option left. Either die trying or cheat her way into saving Brittney. She would rather take the latter. "I can easily turn into a shadow in the night. Whatever attack you land on me will literally go right through me. You will basically be fighting the air. Plus I have a whip." She holds the weapon, because, why not? It's made of leather and it really hurts people.

When she blinks, Shredder is gone.

She gasps, her spine straightening in alarm, eyes darting around wildly—

"Hyah!" Shredder shouts, slashing the two blades attached to his gauntlet at her. Eyes widening to the size of saucers, Clara yelps and flips back from the attack, but the blade still grazes her arm. Warm crimson liquid trickles down her arm, her arm stinging.

"Shit," she hisses, but tightens her hold on the handle of her whip, nails digging into the worn leather. Shredder isn't fazed by her evasion, lunging at her with terrifying speed and rapidity. She dodges the worst of his blows, ducking to the side when he's about to land a hard kick to her face. She cracks the whip and it strikes him across the face, causing him to growl and stagger back, hand flying to his bleeding cheek. He barely glances down at the blood on his hand as he glares. She closes her eyes and transforms back into a shadow, causing him to fly right through her.

She uses her claws to strike him across the arm, but they're the equivalent to a paper cut compared to the gashes across her bruised arms. Her physical form returns and he lands a hard uppercut on her chin, the whip flying out of her grasp. She slams against the glass form, the impact creating spider web cracks across the surface. She cries out when he grabs her by the shoulders, squeezing them hard, adding pressure when she curses at him in her native tongue.

Her entire body is throbbing with intense pain, her head is pounding fiercely, the blood rushes in her ears, hearing a ringing sound. Black and purple blotches mar her pale, porcelain skin, and the leather sleeves are damaged with blood and tears he caused with his blades. She can almost taste the copper in the back of her throat.

Speaking of the aforementioned throat, Shredder wraps his hand around it, adding pressure to it where it becomes mildly uncomfortable. He lifts her off the ground, his fist cocked back, a single blade protruding from his gauntlet. Her pupils dilute when the sharp, deadly end pricks her throat, drawing a pebble of blood.

"Tell me where your Master is and I will make your demise swift," he demands, his lip curled into a snarl.

Forgive me, Jewel, she thinks as she opens her mouth—

"Let her go, Saki."

In unison, they snap their heads where the doors are, and a dark figure tosses two melting Footbots at Shredder's feet. There is a small flicker of flame on the fabric, dying out into a small wisp of smoke.

Jewel stands several feet across from them, holding a Footbot head engulfed in fire by her hand. Behind her mask, she smirks conceitedly, a smug, arrogant gleam in her azure midnight eyes.

His hold on her neck has loosened, and Clara takes advantage of his brief distraction to shoot her leg, slamming her foot against his chin. He cries out and she backflips several feet away from him, landing in a cat-like crouch, smoothly grabbing her whip, the long leather curling around her feet like a tail.

The air is thick with tension as the Shredder and former Foot member stare each other down. She sees the fire in both of their eyes, burning with resentment fueled by their hatred for one another. Jewel drops the blazing head, the glow illuminating the side of her jaw in an orange hue. She takes the first step.

So does Saki.

Their steps are calculated, slow; they both tread around each other, eyeing one another with caution. Soon, like a herd of wolves, they circle around each other several feet apart, as if there were rivaling for the last bite of elk.

But instead of fighting for the last piece of elk, both fought for the last piece of revenge.

"Oroku Saki," Jewel murmurs, lowering her chin slightly.

"Takahashi Mari Tamami," Shredder greets back coolly.

Clara's brows furrow, eyes darting between them. "Who's that?"

"It's my legal birth name," Jewel explains, eyes glued to Shredder's. "When I left the Foot I had it changed to Jewel King, but my father used the King last name for protection. His old clan...well, they had unpleasant rivals."

"The Takahashi Clan and the Foot Clan once joined together in the fight against the Hamato Clan," Shredder adds, giving Jewel a once over. "They were noble warriors."

Jewel lifts her chin at that, arching an eyebrow. "They were honorable warriors," she agrees, to Clara's shock. "But their legacy was tarnished when the Foot smeared their good name in that war."

"A small price to pay for a good cause," Shredder corrects unapologetically. "Your grandfather took a blade for my father. And your father saved me that night when Shen..."

"When the blow meant for Hamato Yoshi struck her instead?" Jewel finishes with an arched brow, evoking a dark sneer from the vengeful ninja master. "Yeah, I've heard the story."

"Then you know you are practically spitting on your father's grave by associating yourself with that vile rat," Shredder spits, venom in his tone. "I made a promise to your father and I intend to keep it."

"What promise?"

"That I would take care of you when his time came," says the disgraced ninja master. "But you have made it an impossible task with your constant disobedience. Perhaps it is time I reprimanded you for your treacherous actions, and remind you that you are heir to second-in-command when it is Karai's time to take the title as head of the clan."

"Mmm..." Jewel pretends to ponder on this, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Nah."

"Excuse me, young lady?"

"I said no," she says bluntly. "Appreciate the offer, but I'll pass. Maybe I'll go back into gymnastics, repeal my retirement. I'm kinda getting sick of the modeling gig, y'know? All I do is dress pretty and stand in front of a camera. Plus gymnastics paid me more and I would really love to get my old sponsors back."

As the young girl continued to ramble nonsense, Shredder narrows his eyes dangerously and lunges straight towards her.

"Look out!" Clara shouts.

In a flash, Jewel is standing on the throne, several feet away from the man. Shredder growls and whirls around, undeterred. He springs up high in the air and his fist comes flying at Jewel. She shields his punch with her arms and flips over the throne, speeding away. He follows after her and the two brawl of spinning backkicks and uppercuts. Shurikens whizz past Jewel and she slams down a smoke bomb. Purple smoke obscures Shredder's sights on her and suddenly she is right behind him. Flipping herself onto him, she wraps her legs around neck and squeeze her thighs against them. She slams her elbows on his skull but he slams down on the ground, taking her with him.

"She's on the third floor!" Jewel shouts as she evades his blades, tossing her the key. Clara catches it with ease and looks down at it in her palm.

She looks up. "What about you?" she calls back.

"Don't worry about me. Just go." She slams her knee into his chin.

"But Jewel—"

"Go!" Jewel shouts, before she is slammed back into the window, landing hard on her front.

By some miracle, Clara is able to escape from the Shredder's oncoming blades as she flips over him, bolting straight for the door. It slides open and three Footbots poise their weapons at her, one with a Katana, one with nunchucks, and one with a mace.

She feels the presence of the Shredder following close behind, her spine stiffening when she feels the tips of his fingers...

Before he is shot down by a beam that is ablaze. It creates a wall between him and the door, and Clara knocks off the bots heads with a swing of her whip. She hops over a spasming Footbot and disappears from the door.

Glaring hotly at the smoldering beam, Shredder whips around and narrows his eyes at Jewel, who weakly lifts her head up, eyes hardening despite her throbbing headache.

"Serves you right, asshole," she spits, sneering at him with daggers in her eyes, her voice strong despite the weak rasp in it.

Shredder glowers down at her, cutting the space between them and yanking her up by her hood, lifting her off her feet. He frowns thoughtfully as he looks into her fierce, narrowed eyes, that strong spirit Akio had before his passing.

"Perhaps you can redeem yourself, young Tamami," he suggests more than says, effectively knocking her out with a swift punch. Jewel slams onto the floor, and his shadow eclipses her prone form as he thoughtfully stares down at her. "And perhaps I can restore your clan's legacy."

Jewel lies there, unconscious, blissfully unaware of what the future holds for her in Shredder's hands.

Above the busy streets of New York city, Karai and Tiger Claw leap across the rooftops. She pumps power into her legs as an effort to keep up with the overgrown pussycat, ignoring how her lungs burn. The wind slaps her across the face, but it provides relief for the sweat trickling down the her back.

Tiger Claw pounces onto a building, in a crouch with one paw on the ground. He seems to take notice of her struggle, arching a brow. "Having a hard time keeping up, girl?"

Karai smirks nastily, masking the struggle with mockery. "I was taking it easy on you since you're working with only one eye and no tail."

She grins in victory when the man snarls lowly, her insult striking a nerve. He stands to full height and turns. "You think you're clever?" he challenges with a sneer. "You're a fool!"

"I'm the fool?" Karai exclaims, patting her hand on her chest, looking at him with incredulity. "You've faced the Turtles in battle before and lost. What exactly is your grand plan for revenge here?"

Tigerclaw lifts one hand and curls it into a tight fist. "To destroy warriors such as these," he growls, flashing his dagger-sharp fangs. "You don't strike at their limbs, you go for their heart."

Raising an eyebrow in doubt, Karai asks, hands on her hips, "And what does an overgrown cat know of the heart?"

She watches him pause, his broad shoulders straightening as he stares at her with unreadable eyes. She folds her arms across her chest, leaning her weight on one foot. She seeks to irritate him until he loses control. So she can show him who is meant to be her father's loyal confidant and second-in-command. She earned the title, earned the respect of her—their troops. She had sat by and dutifully observed how her father ran their clan and watched as they rose to the top of the chain.

She wonders if Tang Shen would be proud.

It's then when Tiger Claw answers, a gleam in his eye that tells her he knows something she doesn't. "Why do you think the Shredder sent you with me?" he asks, and the realization comes a split second later.

The wind flapping the strands of her hair, her eyes widen in realization. "Because I know them," she says faintly. "I know the places they go. I know their weakness." The surprise in her eyes shifts into a firm, narrowed-eye frown. "Their friends. April O'Neil and Casey Jones.

At the mention of their name, his eye closes and his brow crinkles, as if reliving the pain of how he lose a chunk of his ear and eye. "The riders of the worm. They will all pay for what they did to me," he vows darkly, cracking open his eye, running his long tongue across his sharp teeth.

In the corner of a cute little New York street, where foreigners seeking an adventure come, sits an old noodle shop that has become a recent trend since the invention of a pizza gyozas. Inside the shop, sweeps the warm and kind blind owner. The glare of the lights above him shine on his dark sunglasses. A figure darts by him, a whisper of air, and his shoulders go taut when he feels something amiss. He senses he is no longer alone, a strange, foreign scent obscuring the smell of dish soap and freshly sanded wood.

"Hello?" Murakami calls, hesitant as the strokes of his room falter. "Is somebody there? Leonardo?"

He hears an animalistic snarl behind him, whipping around to feel two shadows towering over him.

"Not quite," a girl says, the low purr in her tone breaking him into a cold sweat. He gasps softly when the broom in his hand is knocked away, before he is suddenly slammed against the wall, an arm pressed against his chest.

He feels the cold metal of a blade hover above his throat. "The turtles," the girl bites.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Lying will only make this worse," she snaps, and he can feel the heat of her glare, the venom coating her young voice. "Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello. Where do they live?"

"I don't know. Please, please."

He feels the pressure on his chest ease away, feels the hesitation in the girl's aura. "There's no honor in this," he hears her murmur, feeling her presence slink away.

When she is gone, the beast snarls quietly. He can feel the hard eyes on him, even without his sight. "I didn't come here for honor," he says lowly, and Murakami goes rigid in wariness and terror when he hears the dreadful 'shling!' of claws.

He prays, somewhere, that the turtles can detect his distress telepathically.

In another part of town, while the turtles investigated Murakami, April and O'Neil and Casey Jones bound out of the movie theater, Irma close behind.

"Best movie ever!" April crows, waving her hands wildly."The part where the Captain is cornered by the monster, and it's all slobber and fangs and goo, and then boom, that explosion knocked them out of orbit and and they're falling into the star and-and-and—

Casey is quick to interrupt her tirade. "I just don't get why our date had a third wheel attached to it." He jerks his head pointedly at the goth girl.

Irma shoots him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow. "Hello? I'm right here." She gestures to herself with a hand.

"That's the problem," Casey presses.

April rolls her eyes fondly at their squabble, planting her hands on her hips. She spins on her heel, lips pursing into a smirk. "Who said anything about this being a—" she stops, her spine straightening up, as if an invisible force pulled the strings up. Her eyes clamp shut when she feels a strong force in the air, pressing her fingers against her temple, brows creasing hard in concentration.

Casey immediately takes notice, his shoulders broadening. "What is it?" he asks, hushed.

"We're being followed."

"What?" she hears Irma say, the confusion palpable in her tone.

A silent understanding passes between the two, and Casey immediately says, "Alright, whatever it is, we split up and lead it away from the third wheel here. Plan?"

April nods. "Plan."

They each part ways, running into the shadows and leave Irma behind, who is still standing on the pavement, taken aback and baffled.

"Guys, am I missing something?" A pause. "Well, that's just great."

While Irma storms and grumbles, a figure rushes across the rooftops. Karai ignores the weird, unpleasant feeling of pity for the hockey boy as Tiger Claw rushes off, thirsty for revenge and blood. She darts off and slides off a fire escape, finding a speck of yellow rushing into an alleyway.

Smirking, Karai effortlessly flips down and crouches low, a leg extended, her short blade held in her palm. O'Neil skids to a stop, her folded tessen clutched tightly in her dainty little hand, blue eyes narrowing when she sees Karai in front of her.

Karai is the first to speak. "O'Neil."

April scowls and attains a defensive stance. With a jerk of her wrist, the tessen unfolds, glimmering under the broken streetlamp. "You want to do this, Karai? Fine. But I'm warning you, I've been training with Master Splinter big time, and I'm ready to kick your butt," she says, a strong, spitfire determination shining in her round eyes.

In an act of peace, Karai sheathes her weapon away and holds her hands up, placating. "I didn't come to fight. I came to talk." She expertly fakes sincerity.

April's hard look falters, and Karai has to swallow down her laughter as her brows crinkle in confusion. "Oh, well...I've been trained in that, too."

As Karai nods her chin up to the rooftops, following after O'Neil, she thinks to herself, how alike we are.

She wants to hate O'Neil, she really does. And there is a level of disdain, a sense of envy that leaves a bad taste on her tongue. O'Neil was everything she could've been had she not been raised to be an heir to her family's clan. She was not trained to be an assassin, her body acting as the double edged sword for a girl and ninja. Before the madness of mutants, ninjas, and aliens, O'Neil had been normal.

It's the normalcy Karai used to desire so desperately.

There is also sympathy.

"And I lost my MOTHER!"

The words rang something akin to understanding, inside her. She knows. Knows the pain of not having a mother to stroke your hair and guide you to the right decisions. As she takes a seat on an air, she wonders if the redhead was also a defenseless infant at the time she lost her mother.

She hopes, wherever her spirit is, Tang Shen is proud of her.

"All my life," Karai is saying, the struggle so well constructed and orchestrated that even has her almost believing it. "I was raised to believe that the Shredder was my father. That Splinter was the enemy. So when Leo told me that Splinter was my true father, I couldn't accept it. But then I began to have doubts about Shredder's honor."

It's a half-truth. She still had her reservations about what Leonardo has told her that night. At the time, she was hungry for vengeance, to finally put an end to the man who destroyed their lives. She hadn't wanted to listen at the time. Too angry, full of rage, driving her for the kill.

Until she hid behind the billboard, when she heard the heavy grief and devastation in Hamato Yoshi's voice. Saw the pleading, the longing.

The love.

But the doubt slithers inside her like a snake, coiling around her insides and constricting them. The jaws snap and hiss at her, all a ruse, all a lie. A master manipulator—

"Doubts about the evil leader of the evil ninja clan?" O'Neil's tone is dripping with sarcasm, arms crossed. "Really?"

Karai lowers her gaze and turns her head. "Yes," she admits heavily, "even now, the Shredder has sent Tigerclaw to destroy the Turtles. He's trying to use me to set a trap for them. But I can't. Even if it means betraying Shredder."

Something shifts in O'Neil's eyes, something that says she wants to believe Karai, but there is still that distrust, especially after the last time they were really alone together and Karai had dropped the Harmony act to fulfill her father's orders. Karai almost regrets it, but that small, tiny part of her warns her Splinter was lying. A two-faced rat, who murdered a woman in cold blood and tried to steal her father away during the first alien invasion.

Several streets away, Michelangelo and Raphael find a beaten, battered Casey Jones, bleeding out in an alleyway.

So much shit happening in one night.

She shoots up to her feet when somebody shouts, "Get away from her!"

April spins around and holds her hands out to Donatello and Leo. "Leo, Donnie, wait. You have to listen to what she has to say."

Aggressively swiping the guilt away, Karai forces out: "I believe you, Leonardo. I believe that Splinter is my true father." She ducks her head, shutting her eyes.

He's just a turtle, she tells herself. He means nothing to me.

Nothing.

Why can't she believe it?

"I believe that she believes you," O'Neil adds helpfully.

Donnie struggles more, eyes darting back and forth between her and O'Neil. "I believe...April."

There is a long silence that stretches between them. There is only the sound of the wind flapping the tails of their masks. Karai shoves down the guilt when she catches a glimpse of his beaming smile.

"T-This this is great!" Leo crows, grinning like an idiot, a rat who had walked into the snake's path. Her head snaps up and he cuts the space between them with long, giddy strides. Her smaller hand is engulfed by his larger one and she's dragged along with him. "I knew you'd come around. We'll take you to the lair to see Master Splinter."

Her eyes widen; to come face-to-face with the man who supposedly stole her mother away from her...it was unnerving. And with these doubts...the war rages on in her head, the globe in her mind trembling, unsteady, as if it's about to roll off and shatter into broken shards.

Behind her, Donatello mutters, "Whew. Raph's not gonna believe this."

"I don't believe this!" Raphael shouts, wide-eyed. "What have you guys done? What world do you live in that it's okay to bring the princess of the foot clan to out secret lair?"

Leo's face is mask of mystery, and he points to something behind the red masked turtle. "What happened to Casey?"

Karai steals a glance at the hockey boy, lying down on a futon, exposed skin dark with bruises and scratches. O'Neil shouts his name—"Casey!"—and rushes to his side.

Raphael folds his arms, eyeing Karai for a split second, silently telling her with his electric green gaze that he's not happy and that she's not welcomed. "Tigerclaw threw him off a building. And you just brought his partner in crime home for dinner." He pointedly glares at her.

"Shredder lied to me!" Karai shouts in desperation, as part of the act. She reels herself in and lowers her gaze, whispering, "...I didn't know."

Unlike the rest of his allies and brothers, Rapahel does not show her sympathy. His hands reach for his Sais, taking a threatening step towards her. "Did you know that I'm about to stick this sai right up your—"

Leo catches and grabs his wrist, shoving him back. "Raph, no!" he says, irritation laced in his tone, his frown dripping with frustration. "She understands now. She gets it."

"She knows the truth, Raph. Everything's gonna be fine," Donnie adds as Karai takes a tiny step back, casually clasping her hands behind her. A tracking device slides from the metal in her armor, and she presses the beacon that will help Tiger Claw track them down to the lair. She can feel the slight vibration of the beep, alerting her that it was working.

Maybe she'll thank Stockman.

"Will you just listen?" Leo snaps.

Raph twirls his Sai between his fingers, scowling hotly. "I've heard enough from you and your girlfriend," he spits, voice rough with anger, distrust shining in his green eyes. "She's probably leading the Shredder here right now."

Karai opens her mouth for a retort, one just nasty enough to send the red masked turtle into a rage, until—

"Enough!" somebody barks, and everybody is startled into silence. Karai whips her head up and finds Hamato Yoshi standing above a short staircase, a cane in his clawed hand. He arches a furry brow as he gives the room a once over, probably wondering what all the yelling was about. If this had been Shredder, he would glared squabbling soldiers into submission, into getting along for the sake of the clan.

His eyes stop on her, brows lifting in surprise, eyes widening slightly. "Miwa," he says, in shock.

Karai stares back, the snake in her belly wrapping around her inside tighter than earlier. If he had truly been the cold-hearted monster Shredder raged on about, then why did he act so...off?

She closes her eyes when she feels the familiar headache casting over her skull. "Splinter," she forces herself to blurt out, feeling bile rising at the back of her throat.

Hesitantly, she cracks open one eyes, and sees that his are clamped shut, as if in pain, making a small 'mm' sound deep in his chest. "Come with me," he says, not a request.

It's so much different than how Shredder would command it.

Reluctantly, Karai treads after him, her steps uneasy, without the usual flourish of her confidence. This is unknown territory to her, she doesn't know the place like she knows the back of her hand. Everything around her is a stranger to her. She wonders, idly, if there is a trap stored in for her.

When she finally enters the dojo, judging by how it is decorated with familiar Japanese curtains and rugs, with a rack of weapons hanging proudly on the wall. It's achingly familiar, but one thing catches her eye.

The tree.

It towers over her, the bark smelling freshly of sakura, the leaves a rich color of green, and a blue light seeps through the cracks of the grate above the dojo, casting her a calm, blue glow.

She smiles softly at if, allowing for this moment of peace.

Until it's shattered completely.

"I retain very little from my old life," the rat begins, standing in front of a shell, "but this I will never let go, my daughter."

In his hand, lies a photo. In which it is hauntingly familiar. In which the only difference is that it's not torn in half, the rough, tattered edges scorched with worn burns from so long ago...

...in which Hamato Yoshi has his arm wrapped around Tang Shen...

She doesn't realize the photograph is in her hand now, and when Hamato Yoshi—Father—steps aside and allows her a whole view of the shrine. She steps closer and her breath is knocked out from her lungs when she sees a family portrait of her mother, Hamato—Father—standing together...

With an infant swaddled in blankets in Tang Shen's arms...

Losing her breath—Oh god...oh god, oh god, OH GOD—Karai staggers back, as if she had been struck across the face. "I..." she says, her throat dry. "...I can't believe it," she whispers. Oh god, oh god, what did I DO?!

She looks up at H—Father—horror stricken. "You're telling the truth," she says faintly, voice heavy with horror and grief. "All these years, the Shredder has been lying to me."

"Wait," she whips around to find the turtles approaching them, "you can't believe it? I thought you did believe it. If you didn't believe it, why did you come down here?"

Karai can only look at Leo in horror, the guilt constricting and her world explodes into a thousand pieces. She turns around, looking up at her father, her true father. "Father," she murmurs, "what have I done?"

Above the sewers, Tiger Claw roars.

"You had to see with your own eyes," Father says, and there is no disappointment in his eyes, his tone is not laced with malice and hostility. There is an air of peace around him that she is still so foreign to. "You had to learn the truth for yourself."

Understanding dawns on her, and she stares up at him with wide eyes. "You knew," she quietly says, almost above a whisper. "You knew I was lying."

Why didn't you stop me? Why are you not angry with me?

Why couldn't have you shown me the picture back then?

Splinter nods once, bearing the weight of her actions and the consequences. "No doubt the Shredder's forces are on their way."

Donnie perks up, the ridge of his brows furrowing. "What was that last part?"

Karai turns, facing the turtles, all looking at her in confusion. Regret lays thick in her throat, and with a heavy heart, she says, "Tiger Claw is tracking me."

There is silence before: "I TOLD you!"

"Karai!"

Her cheeks flush in shame, but she doesn't have the time to bear the weight of the strange, foreign feeling of guilt. "There's no time to argue. I have to get out of here. I can-I can lead Tiger Claw away."

"Go," Father says, "take Karai and watch over her. I will stay with April and attend to Casey."

They all nod; obediently, she observes. Even if the order didn't necessarily sound like an order. It sounded urgent, but there was no underlying threat beneath his tone. And if things work out tonight, maybe she will become accustomed to it.

Before she can follow them, a hand rests on her shoulder. Turning her head, warm red-brown eyes stare down at her. "You are who you choose to be, not what others make you," he says, a softness in his words. She considers them, thinking back to all the times Shredder had impressed the title of kunoichi and heir of the Foot Clan since she waddled in diapers. And as she rushes after the turtles, Leo and Raphael bickering, feeling Splinter's smile behind her as she disappears, she wonders what life would have been like if she had grown up as Hamato Miwa.

They leap across the tunnels throughout the sewer, tunnel after endless tunnel. The New York sewers are huge; it was no wonder Xever and Bradford were defeated by them here the first time they fought. The turtles have an advantage when it came to their turf.

But that's the problem. It's their turf.

So when they stop inside one tunnel, seeing another entrance to three more across from, a sinkhole separating them, her brows furrow.

"Well, princess?" Raphael snots in, his hard, distrusting eyes on her. "You got us into this. Where to?"

Karai doesn't know; this isn't her home. She's hardly explored the sewers the last time she slunk down here, bent on revenge and retribution for Tang Shen. This is unfamiliar territory. "I-I don't know," she nearly shouts, her tone dripping with frustration and desperation.

"Everyone, stop!" Michelangelo shouts, and they turn to him. He's smiling widely, flashing his teeth, self-assured and confident. "I know exactly where to go."

Donatello is not assured. "I feel scared."

So do I, Karai thinks.

Back in the Foot Clan, when she trained with the troops, they were beaten down into a well-oiled machine. Until words did not to be exchanged during missions, when they did Shredder's dirty work. Karai had been in the lead; she commanded the troops, despite their snide remarks behind her back.

"Ten years of loyalty to the Foot and I have to follow orders from a spoiled little girl," one had spat in the back of the vehicle, when they believed Karai could not hear them in the driver's seat.

Back in the Foot, people followed her orders down to the T, even if the grown men and women scoffed at taking orders from a fourteen-year-old

When the turtles fight, it is chaos. But it's also not. It only appears that way because of their different fighting style. Michelangelo fights with unpredictability, a wildness in the way he swings his Kusarigama chain, the way it wraps around Tiger Claw's arm and the strength the small turtle uses to have the intended effect. Tiger Claw roars in irritation and is succumbed to one working hand. Raphael fights with a ferocity similar to Shredder's, but there is no promise of death in the way he wields his Sais, only the promise of bloodshed and bruises.

Metal clangs together when they clash into another. With a smile, beaming of pride and smugness, Tiger Claw seems to realize he is out of his element. Of course his greater years of strength and experience still plays an advantage of him.

When Raph swings his foot, the beast is quick to grab it and yank him into a wall.

Donatello jumps in.

He is more calculated when in a fight, she observes as he swings his staff down on Tiger Claw. He observes his opponents and determines the best estimates for his next attack.

Tiger Claw clamps his jaw down on the Bo, and with a rough jerk of his head, he sends Donnie flying into Raph.

The saw whirs, screaming in the silence of weapons and growls.

With a war cry, Leo lifts his katana sword over his head and brings it down hard on the feline. Leonardo fights differently than his brother. While he is not the fastest, like Michelangelo, or the strongest, like Raphael, or the most calculated, like Donatello, he is the most skilled.

It's what drew her to him, all those months ago, when they first met. When she had watched him battle those Foot Soldiers, she had seen the tightening of his muscles, the intent in his eyes. When she had fought him, in that alleyway, to her amusement, there had been a sly finesse in his katas, when his arrogance from earlier slipped into skill, into expertise.

Back in the Foot Clan, all soldiers fought the same.

The turtles, however, fought with different personalities in their intentions. One would have never thought there would be another way, but seeing them so close to bringing down Tiger Claw, she thinks, maybe there's another way.

They compliment each other when aiding each other in battle.

When Leonardo is finally down, a giant sword poised at him by Tiger Claw. When she leaps downward from her post, she sees the small bruises mottled across his green skin, can see how woozy and disoriented he is by how he can hardly open his eyes.

Tiger Claw lifts his head when he smells her presence, a smirk twisting his features. "Karai, would you like the honor of finishing him?"

Karai glances at Leonardo, the boy who had sacrificed himself during the earthquake to protect her, even as she tried to end him. He has never given up on her, not even now. He has always been there for her. Always talked to her on those lonely nights in those rooftops.

Leo was the only one to see good in her. The only one who ever cared enough to try.

"You are who you choose to be," Father's words ring inside her, "not what others make you."

Hamato Yoshi had given her the choice to see the truth with her own eyes.

Oroku Saki made her into a monster.

Her eyes shut. "I have no honor," she says, and when she opens her eyes, there is nothing but willpower and determination set in them. "But that's about to change."

With a war cry, Karai lunges at Tiger Claw, and the two lock into battle, their blades singing while the saw whirs in the background. She knows how he fights, he is still more experienced than her, stronger thanks to his enhanced strength. And the turtles are probably too bruised or battered to take him on again. She almost catches a close call with the spinning table saw. Through gritted teeth, she slams her knee hard into his chin and he staggers back, but regains balance when she springs up and brings her sword down.

But it's not enough.

He yanks a fistful of her hair and she's slammed into the ground, her vision swimming, the edges of her sight grey. He repeats, repeats, repeats.

And soon she is lost to the world of awake.

The ghost of Tang Shen screams for vengeance.

Tiger Claw does not carry her with care, and none so gently, he drops her like she is a sack of rotten potatoes. Venom laces in his words: She has betrayed you, Master Shredder. She fought alongside the Turtles."

Karai breathes heavily, her forehead pressed against the floor, hunched over herself. Outside the church, thunder roars in the distance. Rain pelts the glass.

Tang Shen roars again, for blood.

She snaps her head up with the speed of a serpent, staring at his back with wild, angry eyes. "Tell me the truth!" she demands, shrill and furious, nails digging into the glass. "Splinter's my father, isn't he?!"

Even from this distance, Karai knows him well enough to see the rigidness in his shoulders, how his head slightly turns halfway. He turns fully, the metal in his armor clinking softly as he approaches her. She doesn't break eye contact, even if his good eye is unnervingly unreadable. There is nothing but static silence, her own harsh breathing drowned out by the rain.

Thunder rolls.

And the dread sets in: "Yes," Shredder says at least, his voice low. "Hamato Yoshi is your true father."

The thunder claps with her horror.

She tears her eyes off him and to the floor, heart stuttering as she rasps, her voice hoarse, "What?"

"Tiger Claw," Shredder—her mother's murderer, commands, waving his arm once. "Take her away!"

She feels a massive paw snatch her by the back, lifting her up. She's shock when he tosses her carelessly into a dark cell, moonlight slipping through the grate above, wide-eyed and jaw again.

"No," Karai shouts in horror, watching his cape swoosh behind him as the two turn their backs. And as they retreat into the darkness, she screams, "No! No! What are you doing?" Her holds her hand out through the bar.

She bellows, just as lightning flashes above her:

"NOOO!"

Takahashi Akio had once been his friend, long ago in his homeland.

With a heavy heart of regret and sorrow, achingly similar to the day of his friend's passing, Oroku Saki forces himself to step into Stockman labs. The bug buzzes above, spitting acid into a candy bar, gobbling it down. One disfigured, large hand pulls at the chain.

In the corner of the lab, sits a cage of two wolves, growling and snarling at one another. Above them is a cage with a white serpent.

In the centre of the lab, lies a massive vat of mutagen.

Stockman tightens the chain to the best of his ability, while holding a beaker of experimental retro-mutagen in his hand. He struggles with locking it in firmly, cursing under his breath

"Stockman," Shredder barks, startling the scientist. He flinches violently, a knee-jerk reaction, and the beaker tips, spilling the dark mauve contents into the tank. He makes a small, strangled sound in his throat as he watches it sink into the glowing ooze.

To the fly's relief, there is still some left in the beaker.

"Is the mutagen ready?" Shredder demands as he strides closer, glaring up at the bug. "I grow impatient of your incompetence."

"Uh," Stockman swallows thickly, high-pitched and stammering, "ye-yes, Master Shredder! The DNA is ready, as per your specifications."

"And the sedatives?"

Above the tank, dangles a cage, where 'Julia' struggles, her attempts are futile, and she is too weak to escape through the use of her powers.

"Well th-that was more of a challenge," Stockman murmurs, before he beams earnestly. "But I have finally calculated the right amount to weaken her powers for a long amount of time, three hours at a maximum."

Shredder hums his approval, his head shifting to young Tamami. She is hissing in her confines, continuously banging her head against the steel cage. As a result, her mask slips off and her hood falls off. Her hair falls to the left side of her face, and in this distance, he can see the right side is wreathed in the glow of the mutagen.

As if sensing his hard stare, she looks down. Immediately, her eyes narrow, and her lip curls into a snarl. "Saki!" she roars, her hands curling into fists. "You monster! Let me go!"

Shredder does not dignify her demands, instead clasping his hands behind him, his armor glinted in the green glow of the ooze.

"She is a spitfire," Tiger Claw observes, beside him, scrutinizing the young girl who was cursing and shouting profanities at Saki.

"Much like her father," Saki agrees, feeling the painful surge of nostalgia run through him, when Akio had punished an Elite for misconduct.

Tiger Claw turns his head, blinking once as his brows pull in confusion. "If Takahashi Akio had been your friend, then why do you wish to mutate his cub?"

Saki doesn't answer him at first, instead staring up at the hissing girl who spat horrible names at him, fury in her orange glowing eyes. Cracks of red appear on her skin, but they are faint. The sedatives still flow inside her blood, hindering her strength and powers. They would have to act fast, and soon, in case they wore off an hour too early.

"There is more to the story between the comradery of the Foot Clan and Takahashi Clan," Shredder begins, without tearing his eyes away from Tamami. "These burns I bear were the result of the fire that had broken down when Tang Shen perished. Karai—" He closes his eyes, his eye ridges twisting, as if in pain of the haunting memories. "Karai," he says heavily, quieter, "and I needed refuge. I did not have any money to provide shelter for us, so Akio gave us refuge."

Some days he missed his friend's hospitality, his friendship, his loyalty. Akio had been a good friend to him; he was the one aspect of Saki's life that did not coincide with the wretched Hamato Clan or Yoshi. He was not a Hamato, he was not raised by the enemy, and he had not been Yoshi's friends.

And some days Saki forced himself to forget about his deceased friend.

"He was my friend, above all else, and perhaps one of the greatest martial artists, aside from myself," Saki says, Tamami's hysterical yells growing shrill and much angrier. "And he had kindly offered the last of his clan to be absorbed into the Foot Clan, and served as my second-in-command."

Tiger Claw looks up at Tamami, arms crossed, when Saki nods his chin towards her. "When he had passed, he left Tamami his and his clan's fortune in a frozen account, and granted me guardianship. But Tamami did not share the same ideologies of the Foot, and attempted to escape. Granted, the way I had attempted to force her to stay was not ideal, but I had no idea how to deal with her constant rebellion. But I am in debt to Akio, and he had envisioned Tamami rising up in the ranks as Karai's second-in-command, and as a vow to my old friend, I intend to keep that promise alive."

"And you believe that mutating her will allow her to come back?"

"The mutagen is unstable to the mind, but perhaps it will steer her back into the right path."

"And what if it doesn't?"

Behind the helmet, his good eye narrows. "Then we will make her."

"You wouldn't dare," Tamami spits, glaring venomously down at him. "You don't have the guts, Shredder. My father will never forgive you!"

"Perhaps not," Saki says smoothly, dismissive of her claims. "But your father is no longer alive to forgive."

It strikes a nerve within the girl, a fire igniting in her eyes, a desired effect, and she bares her teeth, back to shouting profanities at him in Japanese.

"If you don't let me out of this cage, I swear, I will shove my kunai so far up your—!"

"Stockman!" Saki barks, impatient with both the girl's tantrum and the slow bug. "Is the chain ready?"

Stockman nods hurriedly, tightening the bolt securely at least. "Yes, sir!" he says at whiplash speed, his wings flapping behind him furiously. "All you will need to do is push down on that padlock there and it will loosen the bolt, effectively dropping her in the cage."

"That will not be necessary," Saki says, glaring up at Tamami as she curses his name and his clan, accusing them of being dishonorable and tainted. He holds his hand out. "Give me the sword," he orders.

Tiger Claw follows the command without question, and Saki feels the weight of the heavy sword in his hand. The edge glints from the glow of the mutagen, well-crafted and powerful enough to cut through steel.

Tamami's shouting tirade halts to a stop when she sees the sword in his hand, eyes widening in alarm. "Shredder," she calls, a warning, but her eyes scream in panic, soundless fright paralyzing her.

Without another word or a hint of guilt, Saki throws the sword like it is a boomerang.

Time slows down to a sickening beat.

And in that time, Saki prays that wherever Akio's spirit is, understands, and forgives him.

The steel slices through the chain like it's butter, separating metal from metal attached to the bolt that kept her above and away from the glowing ooze. The cage plummets, the widening of her eyes, a short, loud scream tears violently from her throat as the glare of the mutagen becomes brighter and brighter.

And then—SPLASH!

The cage sinks deep into the thick, green substance, bubbling, like a cauldron, wreathes of smoke in the air.

The silence is foreboding.

With a bated breath, Saki watches as a shadow writhes into the mutagen, a muffled howl of agony, the shadow twisting and bending, a mouth elongating into a muzzle, ears protruding from the head.

Then—rain pelts the windows.

The three men in the room stand still, the lights flickering above the lab, where Tamami still floats in the mutagen—

A flash of white fur, and out comes a figure, slamming its entire body down onto the platform. Mutagen drips off her glistening white fur, streaked with black armor at the tips. Eyes the color of the black sky snap open, pupils dilating in mindless fury, its face adorned with small pieces of metal from her mask; the middle of her face, cheeks, around her eyes.

The wolf bares her dagger-sharp teeth, a deep snarl rolling in her throat.

The full moon glows from the outside, hanging above the city.

Tamami lifts her head, as lighting flashes over her large body.

And howls.

Welp...that was a thing. You have no idea how long I've been planning this scene in particular. It's pretty much the whole reason I started this fic, well that and other various reasons I will not get into at the moment. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

And remember: reviews are writer's chow! Love to all my silent readers.