Mikey tiptoed into Donnie's lab early the next morning. He had a mission to complete and he couldn't attend to it without a prop he might need. Get in quietly, get out quietly. His brother had been a veritable zombie at dinner, despite having claimed to have slept, and then was still glued to his computer, typing furiously, when Mikey had snuck in the night before and hung up his laundry, including the important prop.
He hoped that he wasn't still up… too many all-nighters weren't good, even for Donnie. While it may make his own pre-mission stealth mission easier, it did worry him. His brother had been off his mojo for a few days. Mikey doubted anyone else had noticed or understood what smudged eyebrows, long nights, or 3 full days in the Forge meant. Many evenings handing tools to his brother as the Official Assistant (a title he donned himself) while he worked on one project or another had lent him some insight into the genius's habits. Many more nights sketching drawings from his corner of the lab afforded him a peek inside his brother's moods. Donnie had been bothered by something for some time now.
He skirted around a table and his heart melted when he saw Donnie asleep in his chair, face first on the keyboard to his computer. A long trail of z's still marched on in an open window. He must have crashed not long after Mikey had left. As quietly as he could, he tugged his apparel off the line and began folding. No music was playing that could cover up his movements, so he activated ultra ninja stealth mode.
Unfortunately, the tail of an apron caught the edge of a welding torch and pulled it off the shelf it was resting on. Mikey froze as his brother flailed awake, looking around fervently.
"Sorry, Dee," he said sheepishly, gently replacing the tool. "Didn't mean to wake you."
Donnie rubbed his eyes and glanced back at his computer. Half the keyboard was imprinted on his face. After another bleary moment, his whole demeanor brightened. "No probles, Angelo, take your time!"
Mikey straightened. Cheery, early, attitudes were rare for Donnie, but it made hope blossom inside of him. "You're in a good mood this morning!"
"Of course! What's another day in paradise? The world is an oyster and her secrets mine to hold." The sentence ended with the ambitious fire in his eyes their other brothers referred to as the onset of the Mad Scientist. To Mikey, it meant that Donnie had finally found the thing that re-instilled his excitement for invention and discovery. No more using smudgeable markers! No more glazed-eyes grunt work. His brother was off autopilot!
"I'm so glad," he said earnestly. He then 'innocently' held up an orange sweater he was folding. "I was about to prepare another seminar!"
"What? Why?! That won't be necessary!"
He laughed as Donnie physically recoiled at the thought of another session with Dr. Feelings. He wouldn't be able to escape it forever, but for today Mikey would spare him the horror. He had another type of appointment planned.
In fact… he looked over to where Donnie had turned back to his computer, avidly deleting all the z's his face had left. His plan depended on sneaking out before a certain hairy somebody could stop him, but maybe he would have better luck succeeding if he took someone else with him, someone that he could claim 'supervised' if caught. "Sooo…" he began nonchalantly, folding up his important prop: the dinosaur costume. "I'm gonna check on Baron Draxum this morning… wanna come?"
"Draxum?" Donnie groused, not turning away from whatever he was reading. "Why on Earth would I want anything to do with-" He broke off and seemed to do a double take, scooching closer to his computer.
"You know what, sure!" He twisted around in his chair and flashed a smile and a thumbs-up at him. "Um, just let me finish this up real quick and I'll meet you down at the Turtle Tank. Sound good?"
It worked? Mikey jumped and clasped his hands. This was great! Unexpected, but great! Maybe in bits and pieces his brothers would come around to seeing what he saw in the baron, and then eventually Splinter himself. "Absolutely! Thanks, Dee, I'll be right down!" He scooped up his laundry and scampered out of the lab, heart bursting with joy.
Donnie watched his brother leave, laundry trailing in his wake. When he was sure he was gone he swiveled back around and reread the email.
The correspondences with Bishop had brought a wellspring of new theories and ideas about mystic energy Donnie was itching to examine: the narrow circumstances in which it worked, the behavior of mystic objects under different conditions, the thought that perhaps mystic energy was a rare self-sustaining power source. The BAI had way more data than he did, and he absorbed what notes they provided him greedily.
Mystic energy is very intuitive, one of the emails had said. A lot of a mystic object's properties seem to depend on the user.
Yet the properties don't vary enough from user to user for it to be wholly linked to them, Donnie had pointed out. A mystic sword will always open portals, but the destination depends on who's wielding it.
Very insightful. Have you tested any theories regarding a conscious link?
The best part was that Bishop actually listened to his ideas! It was truly a conversation between intellectuals, not a lecture where he had to explain how his tech worked for the umpteenth time. The agent understood whatever he was getting at the first time around. It was so refreshing! He couldn't trade such a discussion for something as simple as sleep, and yet sleep had claimed him anyway. He had dreamt of energy and electricity and cellular biology.
But the last email Bishop had sent after Donnie fell asleep was on a slightly different topic. It asked if he had ever studied anti-mystic energy, or devices that seemed nullify mystic powers. Truthfully, he hadn't thought such a thing existed until now. He would have said no, except for Mikey's rather serendipitous invitation.
Not that he necessarily liked his brother's mission to rehabilitate a warlord, but perhaps the Baron would be a little more forthcoming.
"I was given to understand that humans considered this a day of rest."
Mikey bounded into Draxum's apartment, dinosaur costume tucked under his arm if needed. Donnie scrolled on his phone, trailing behind him. The Yokai was still in his robe and slippers and blearily glared at them for interrupting his Sunday morning.
"I'm so glad you've taken a liking to human customs!" Mikey pronounced. "Are there any in particular you would like to explore? Fun things you've heard of in the lunch line? If something fires up that ol' curiosity of yours, Dr. Positive and Donnie are here to help! Right, Donnie?"
Donnie looked up from his phone. "Hm? Right." He tucked it in his hoodie and looked around the apartment. It was still outrageously sparse, but a small table had been dragged to the window where the blinds were pulled up. An empty plate and a mug containing… something… gleamed in the sunlight. A vase with a tiny, purple vine perched daintily in the middle.
Mikey picked up the mug. "Is this -whew! – were you trying to make coffee? Is that what these grounds are?"
Draxum's eye twitched. "I wasn't… trying… to do anything."
Mikey's face softened. "Let me make you some coffee, it'll freshen you right up." He set down the costume and waltzed over to the small kitchen.
Draxum growled to himself and moved to collect his plate, pausing to look out the window. Donnie stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled closer. "Soo, Draxum, I've got a couple of questions if you don't mind me asking."
"I do mind," he muttered. He cringed as the sound of Mikey's "nuh-uh-uh!" rang from the kitchen. "But I suppose it depends on the questions," he relented.
"Well, it should be right up your alley. Have you ever heard of anti-mystic energy?"
The Yokai frowned, holding his plate with both hands. "Not exactly in those terms. The police force of the Hidden City carries anti-mystic devices, and likely so do a few bounty hunters and wealthy individuals. They are very hard to come by, and even harder to create."
"Why is that?"
The baron considered. "I'm not sure how to put it into terms you will understand. Mystic energy works like a bridge between two things: the physical world we see and touch, and the conscious world we think and feel."
"A bridge," Donnie repeated. "Like that you can walk across."
"Yes, but a one-way bridge." Draxum frowned. "There's an expression… mind over matter. Mystic energy is the conduit through which that becomes true. The mind, or intent, then dictates the matter."
That fits with the intuition Bishop's already observed. Maybe there is something to this 'conscious link' idea, but, wait a second…
"So mystic objects are mystic not just because they've been imbued with mystic energy?"
"Correct, again, as far as objects go. These artifacts are fused with a particular intent, which transforms them into 'mystic' items."
How does one fuse something as noncorporeal as an idea to an object? Conduit… Wait, that's where the raw mystic energy comes in, whatever form that takes. Intuition… but if that's the case then mysticism is less about the energy itself and more about the intent. Mind over matter… that was literal, wasn't it? User and sword… Connection. Link. Bridge. Mind and matter, no, mind to matter, one way reaction holy Eureka it was CHEMISTRY.
Intent + Mystic Energy + Object = Mystic Object
Mystic energy was a catalyst. Or at least, a bonding agent.
"Then that means anti-mystic energy is just a reverse chemical reaction!" he bubbled excitedly, not explaining how he jumped to the conclusion. "It would be when matter triumphs over mind." He lapsed into awe. "This changes everything."
"Um… perhaps," Draxum hedged. "I haven't actually studied the devices that dabble in this to know if that is true. I'm an alchemist, not an engineer."
"Was an alchemist," Mikey sang. He placed the mug, now full of hot, liquid coffee, in Draxum's hands and took the plate. "Best not to dwell on the past when we're moving forward. How's the lunchroom?"
Draxum grunted, the warring scientist gone and the sulking sheep-man back.
"That's great!"
"But how could one reverse it?" Donnie pondered aloud, oblivious to their conversation. "If you're trying to get matter to affect mind you'd need the 'one-way bridge' energy to overrule the embedded intent. Unless you're negating one intent with another? Would two mystic minds cancel each other out?"
"Like I said, this isn't my area." Draxum huffed, "I focused on the energy more innate to the Yokai." He took a sip of the surprisingly delicious coffee and tried not to react to it.
"But how is that different?"
Draxum smirked. "Yokai are born mystic; unlike other inferior beings who must become mystic."
They frowned at the tone.
"Well, I think that's enough theorizing for this morning," Mikey decided before Donnie could open his mouth and make further inquiries. He patted Draxum's shoulder. "You stay out of trouble and call us if you happen to see any creepy government officials hanging around, you hear?" He scooped up his dinosaur costume and tugged Donnie towards the door.
"All humans are creepy, governmental or not," Draxum muttered as they exited. He looked out the window at the bright skyline. "They creep into the schools, creep into the cities, creep everywhere until there's nowhere left to go." He sipped the coffee, lost for a moment in a dark contemplation where the turtles could not follow.