The eyes of the Cherubim flickered before Bishop, replaying the past.
Fights raged and walls shattered. Debris billowed. Cameras in the path of destruction went dark. It was… painful to watch.
But necessary.
Painful things were always necessary, weren't they?
Bishop rubbed his brow and sighed. The sheer scale of the destruction was staggering. The exterior breach (which never should have happened), the ineffectiveness of the traps (wasted), the destroyed walls… the injured recruits, the escaped turtles, the new intel on Draxum, the whole damn situation…
His shoulders drooped.
Comp… compartmentalize.
Grit and tenacity were always there for him when everything else failed. He pushed his glasses back on his face and straightened his back.
"Rewind."
The screens flickered and complied. He leaned forward, analyzing how things went so drastically wrong.
How to make sure it never happened again.
Bishop's lips pressed into a thin line as one screen replayed Donatello releasing the mutants. He should have known. The timing of it, really; he had just been too distracted by the chaos at the time to put it together. One part of him muttered that he should have done more than just take blood samples from the turtle. Maybe he would, later, now that he had a baseline. Already it was apparent that the turtle's cells possessed incredible healing abilities. They weren't quite on the same level as that of the Yokai, but studying how they differed might just provide the breakthrough Achilles needed.
And once he had that breakthrough… with some improvements to Jericho and with Maria green-lit… he could finally defeat an undefeatable enemy. Humankind would be safe from the Yokai.
But Draxum was flying solo the whole time…
Bishop blinked at the sudden memory, then scowled. So… so what? No one stopped him. He continued his horrific experiments for years and years. Bishop got out himself, there was no rescue.
There was never a rescue.
He banned the memory from his mind and refocused. The benefit of the doubt was a luxury he could not afford the Yokai, certainly not now. With successful mutations under Draxum's belt, no doubt it wouldn't be long until the march on humanity began. Even if the baron had fallen out of favor, there was always someone ready to rise in a disgraced one's place. The Stadium Incident may have just been a precursor, a warm-up before the main event. They were testing the waters. Seeing how the humans would react. And all of the mutations from the outbreak could be sleeper agents, ready to strike at the right signal. They were already seeded so thoroughly throughout the populace; he would have to round them all up to be safe, citizenship be damned. It was too risky. No cost was too high for saving humankind.
He had long ago vowed to do whatever it took.
People could hate him now, but they would thank him later.
The door swished open, startling him out of his dark thoughts. He displayed no outward sign of it, however, as he covered the motion with a turn towards his visitor.
Robyn stepped inside. "Agent O'Neil, reporting for duty."
She looked tired. They all were, to various extents, but no doubt her extra duties overseeing the cleanup also contributed. A few hours of sleep took the edge off, but not much else. There was still so much to be done.
And they couldn't afford to be weak. Not now.
"At ease, agent," he said. "We're looking to face another long day."
Robyn nodded. "I figured."
Bishop rose from his chair. "Call the rest of the agents who were off base to report in and assist with the rebuilding – we need fresh hands and everyone here needs longer breaks. Once they're set up, assist Hun with resetting the perimeter defenses; up top is extremely vulnerable right now and we need to make it as secure as Cocytus." He paused. "I expect a second strike by the end of the day."
Her eyes widened at that and she saluted. "Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good, dismissed." Bishop turned back to the Cherubim, but Robyn didn't move to leave. Instead, she coughed.
"Sir, have you heard anything… from…"
She trailed off and Bishop frowned, looking back at her. Her gaze was fixed on the Cherubim, particularly a screen displaying the cafeteria from the day before. A group huddled in the middle of the wreckage; mostly the other turtles, but kneeling next to them was Augustus.
He closed his eyes.
Shit.
April was mostly blocked by Raphael from this angle, and he paused the video before her daughter raised her head and became recognizable on screen. Robyn looked at him, eyes bright with distress. "…sir? What-?"
Bishop let out a long sigh and stepped towards her. "Robyn," he said gently. "Augustus has been compromised."
"Compromised?" She took a step back and her eyes flicked to the image once again. "But… how…?"
He chose his words carefully. "I do not yet know if it was his choice to help the intruders, or if he was coerced. I am trying to determine that now. In either case, it is too dangerous to contact him. I need you here and focused so that we can withstand the next attack. Can you do that?"
She floundered for a moment, then straightened her back. "Yes, sir," she said tightly.
He nodded. "Good." Then, softening his voice, "I'll keep you informed of any updates."
"Thank you, sir." Her eyes turned steely. "I'll summon the rest of the recruits." Clipped. Sharp.
"Internal network only," he ordered. "No outside calls."
Robyn glanced at the Cherubim. Nodded once. "Understood."
He studied her face for another moment. It was determined. Full of resolve. He nodded back. "Dismissed."
Leo picked his way carefully through the lair's arsenal. They should really find a better spot for all their weapons – piled up against the wall in the den was bound to end in a horrific accident one of these days. It was only a matter of time.
As that thought crossed his mind, Leo pulled at a studded mace and accidentally knocked over an entire line of swords.
"Oops," he cringed as the last blade was done clattering to the ground.
"Hurry it up, Leo, every minute we waste here is another minute that D- that nobody gets rescued!"
"I'm not 'wasting time', Raph," Leo answered calmly, gingerly picking up the swords. "And do you really want to go back there empty-handed?"
His older brother shifted nervously on his feet, then crossed his arms. "Like I said, we'll retrieve our weapons at the base. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure about that?" Leo looked pointedly at the splint on Raph's fingers. "Not that I want to stop you from smashing, but don't forget that the entire building is mystic-proof. We need, and I can't believe I'm saying this, something normal."
"Then just pick a sword already and let's go!"
"No, no, no," he tsked. One couldn't rush this part of the plan. This was his contributory idea. "We need to make sure we get the right weapon. Now, I know there was a- oh-ho-ho, here she is!" Leo tugged at what he was looking for and some bokken tumbled as he pulled it free. A long whip dangled in his hands.
Raph scrunched up his face. "Do you even know how to use that?"
"It's not about the use, it's about the effect." Leo trailed his fingers over it. "Long and wiggly. Like vines. Or snakes." He snickered. "Why did it have to be snakes?"
Raph sighed.
Leo privately congratulated himself on the joke and waved the whip experimentally. It wasn't as thick as the vines of Stinkbomb or, more importantly, Draxum, but should still do the trick. He hadn't missed how sloppy Bishop had been when battling the plant mutant, and coupled with what they now knew of his past with Draxum it all made sense to Leo.
Maybe others would feel guilty weaponizing someone's own trauma against them, but the guy took Donnie's battle shell and shot Mikey. Leo figured they were well past the point of sympathy.
"Besides, how hard could it be? Hyah!" He cracked the whip and ducked as it flew backwards over his head and knocked over an axe.
"Cut it out, you're gonna get yourself hurt," Raph scolded, more bite to his words than normal.
"Chill out, bro, at most I might get a scar like Indie, which honestly? Would be kind of rad."
"Whatever," he snapped. "We're supposed to be gettin' ready to enter Cocytus. Not goofin' off!"
Leo tilted his head, and paused to take in his brother. His arms were still tightly crossed, almost like he was trying to give himself a hug. His whole body language was shifty, from his feet to his eyes. He cast a quick glance around the room to confirm they were still by themselves.
"Hey," he coaxed. "Are you okay?"
"I'm just peachy," Raph quipped. "One of my brothers is in the place of my nightmares and the rest of us are about follow. I'm doing great!"
His voice rose until it cracked breathily on the last word. Leo frowned in concern and looked down at the whip.
…That was the tricky thing about psychological warfare. It could also work against you. They needed to stack the odds as much as they could in their favor, but were already at a massive disadvantage. Raph shouldn't have to march into the place of his literal worst nightmares. Just the thought of it was making the guy freak out. Even if he or Mikey could calm him down by the time they arrived there was no telling how he would react once they actually set foot in Cocytus. It was frustrating and unfair. It shouldn't have to be this way.
Maybe it didn't have to…
Leo reached over and laid a hand on his arm.
"If you need to duck out, you can."
Raph snorted. "I'm not just gonna-"
"I don't mean duck out of the entire mission, I know there's no hope of convincing you to do that." Leo kept his hand on his arm and tried to think of alternative options that still followed the plan, but that might spare his brother further pain. "If the round room gets to be too much, you can break off and… go free the mutants upstairs."
Raph seemed to consider the idea, which was a relief. Already his shoulders were relaxing. Providing an out for him was definitely the right move.
"Thanks," he said eventually. "I guess we'll see when we get there." He flexed his hands and cringed – two fingers on his right wouldn't curl.
Aaand, that wouldn't do. Like Leo was going to let their resident brawler insist on going in weaponless and minus one hand.
"Before we leave..." He retreated quickly and rummaged through the arsenal once more. "Ta-da!"
"A… shield?" Raph took it, politely confused.
"Yeah! Grip it here so that you don't mess up your hand anymore, and now bam! Fingers are protected, and with one arm bashing and one arm smashing you're good to go up against neckties and dinosaurs." He smiled encouragingly.
Raph looked at him, then slowly fitted the wooden shield across his forearm and tightened the straps. It was big enough that it did protect his splinted fingers, and ran a little past his elbow, too. The edges were rimmed with steel, so that he could dish hits as well as take them. The shield boss had a symbol they had seen before around some of Splinter's items, but otherwise the rest of it was plain. Raph practiced raising it to protect his head, blocking imaginary blows. A smile crept across his face.
"I feel like Captain America."
Leo clapped him on the shell and steered him away towards the garage. "Ayy, now this is a match made in heaven! Dr. Jones and the Captain are on their way to kick some shell!"
"I didn't think they had much in common."
"Uh, fighting nazis, hermano?"
"Oh, right!"
"Not to mention they're set in the thirties and forties, and that as far as theme songs go-" he stopped abruptly as they ran into their missing member coming down from the other hall. "Watcha got there, Miguel?"
Their brother was dragging something along the ground. Something else was tucked under his good arm. He looked up at them and Leo grimaced at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. How far had he been lugging that? Why didn't he ask for help? What was – oh.
It was Donnie's spider shell.
"Oh, Mikey," Leo voiced softly. "I'm not sure we'll have the time to carry that to-"
"It's for me."
"What?" He was glad that Raph seemed just as confused.
Mikey stubbornly pulled the battle shell closer. "I know I'm down an arm, so I figure, why not add four more? Bring my total count up to five?"
"Yeah, but…" Raph frowned. "Only Donnie normally-"
"You know he's got modes for us, too, right?"
"Wait, what?" Leo's mouth opened. How long had his twin been keeping that a secret?
Mikey straightened. "Why do you think he takes the time to write instruction manuals and everything else for his tech when he already knows how it works?" He nudged the spider shell with his foot. "There's a basic AI in the arms. Nothing fully conscious, don't worry, but enough that they can respond like real limbs depending on the user." He dug around in his belt, wincing as his sling was jostled, and pulled out a flashdrive. They squinted at the tag on it: MIKEY.
"It probably won't be as fluid as when Donnie uses it, but enough to get the general idea." He looked down, pulling the flashdrive closer to his chest. "And… once we find Donnie… we could switch off. With what happened to his last battle shell and all…"
Raph bit back a growl. Leo spared him a glance and was unsurprised to see the same fire in his eyes that had been there shortly before he had smashed their cage. They remembered too well what happened. Mikey had a point.
Plus, they were trying to stack the odds in their favor as much as possible. Leo shrugged and clipped the whip to his belt. "Well, then, let's get you set up."
The neoprene sleeve Mikey had also been carrying slipped over his shell with ease. It molded around his curves, and then the spider shell clipped over the padded back that was shaped more like its usual user. Leo plugged in the flashdrive, and then stood back as the straps of the shell lengthened over Mikey's shoulders and hugged his frame a bit more easily.
"Welcome, Michelangelo."
Everyone jumped as Donnie's voice filled the hall. The tiny speaker on the shell continued on.
"The Spider Shell, Brother Setting, is a learning algorithm designed to mimic and respond to your movements. The more you use it, the more attuned it will be to your needs. For specific tasks, please state the mode you would like to select vocally. Examples include, but are not limited to: Fight Mode, Work Mode, and Dance Mode."
"Uhh, is there a 'broken left arm' mode?" Mikey asked.
"Supplementary Limb Mode activated."
The upper left mechanical arm extended over his shoulder and hung by his side. When Mikey raised his right arm, it raised with it. The two limbs moved in tandem, one mirroring the other.
"Coooool."
"Thank You."
Leo exhaled. It sounded like Donnie was right there with them. His eyes flicked from Mikey's sling to Raph's wooden shield, to his own whip.
They knew what they were up against. They had a plan, and Leo was certain that it was going to work, even as loose-ended and full of maybe's as it was.
"Guys!" April ran out from the garage. "What's taking you so long?" She thwapped her bat against her hand impatiently. "Let's go."
"Vamanos!"
They piled into the crowded Turtle Tank. Splinter gave them a quick glare for their tardiness before turning his attention back to the controls. Sunita and April sat up front, strapping in under the re-suited up Augie's watchful eyes. Mayhem sat on the console, batting at the holographic projections. Mikey scrambled up and disappeared towards the taxi up top, robot limb hoisting him up the ladder smoothly, which left Raph and Leo in back with-
"Is that a whip? Was there nothing better for you to grab?"
"Long and wiggly, like scary vines." Leo shook the weapon in front of Draxum's face. "Just like why you're here."
The baron crossed his arms and huffed.
The back hatch snapped shut. "Strap in!" Splinter hollered.
Leo grinned at the unhappy baron, then lurched as the tank sped off through the sewers.