Chapter 43: New York, Same Villains

One of Australia's most remarkable natural gifts, the Great Barrier Reef is the world's largest coral reef. The reef was actually made up of 3000 individual reef formations and coral cays, not to mention hundreds of picturesque tropical islands with sun-soaked golden beaches and an abundance of marine life. In another time, the Great Barrier Reef would be one of the world's most sought-after tourist destinations.

In today's time, though, there were no snorkellers, no scuba divers, no aircraft or helicopter tours or whale-watching cruise ships. Australia languished under the control of Doctor Octopus and the Sinister Six, a team of supervillains that Doc Ock had assembled to help him rule their new lands. For their aid, they had been heavily rewarded by Ock with upgrades, thanks to what he had learned from pilfering Wakanda's technology.

Part of that had gone into upgrading the Octagon, the underwater base that Ock had constructed just off the coast of Australia, in the very center of the Great Barrier Reef. It was a huge underwater building built at the bottom of an underwater crater nestled in a seaweed forest, a dim green glow in an otherwise murky and dark ocean.

Inside the Octagon's command center, Doctor Octopus stood in front of a massive wall of screens and monitors. In the control room with him was Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio, one of the members of Ock's Sinister Six. Quentin Beck was a former Stark Industries employee who had been fired by Tony Stark several years ago after presenting him with then-revolutionary holographic illusion projectors. Octavius had taken Beck under his wing with the promise of the recognition he deserved, and the chance of becoming greater than Tony Stark ever was. In reality, Octavius was just using Beck's illusory capabilities for his own benefit. But he had no intention of telling the man that.

"Getting reports from around the globe, Doc," said Beck. He walked back and forth between screens, checking the monitors for any new information. "Each side mission's going off without a hitch."

"Of course they are, Mr. Beck," Doctor Octopus scoffed. "After all, I planned them."

"Didn't say I doubted you," Beck said defensively. "It's just—" He threw up his hands and sighed. "Look. I'm a master of misdirection, and even I don't get why we're taking a day off for this scavenger hunt."

Doc Ock chuckled. "All in good time, 'Mysterio'." He stalked towards the computer on his robotic legs, opening a comms channel with the others. "Sinister Six, sound off. Mr. Gargan?"

In Taipei, a pair of security guards previously employed at a Hammer Industries warehouse lay on the cold warehouse floor. The Oriental division of the technological supergiant corporation pledged healthcare benefits to all of its workers. Unfortunately for the two guards, their healthcare coverage would kick in only after it was too late. They lay on the ground writhing, foaming at the mouth and making horrible gurgling noises, a single large stinger wound in each of their necks.

Mac Gargan walked past them. Not for the first time, he looked down at his own form, totally impressed with what he was looking at: a thickly-armored green carapace shell that covered his entire body except for his face. In the suit, his right arm became an enormous pincer, like a giant crab's, and a long green jointed tail stretched from his tailbone and arced over his head, ending in a bulbous head with a stinger the length of a sword coming out of it. The only part of Mac Gargan that could be seen was his face, surrounded by the suit's thick exoskeleton and often with a crazed expression on it, so that one might doubt this last evidence of the human within the suit.

It was all thanks to Octavius. The good doctor had come to visit Gargan during his time in prison, with talk of building a team. He'd bailed Gargan out and cleared his debts with the mobsters, and all Gargan had to agree to was for Octavius to give him more power than he'd ever had before, with a mutation.

No downsides, at least not that Gargan could see.

So he'd agreed, on one condition; whatever this mutation was, it had to involve his namesake: scorpions. He'd built a name for himself as the Scorpion, and it wasn't a name easily changeable if Ock turned him into something like, say, a snow fox. Ock had agreed, and once the Masters of Evil had come to power, he'd moved his team—the Sinister Six—to Australia and dug into the Kraang's research on cross-species mutants as soon as the Shredder had forked it over to him. Not satisfied with simply infusing Gargan with the DNA of a highly venomous black fat-tailed scorpion, the doctor had also thrown in a touch of mysterious, organic "red goo" of unknown origin, that HYDRA had recently retrieved from a prison inmate in the Ryker's Island facility.

Top it off with a dose of Kraang mutagen and the result was the Scorpion, an emerald-colored shell that lived inside Gargan's skin. At a moment's thought, the carapace would sheath Gargan underneath protective layers of insectoid armor, that covered his entire body except for his face. And boy, did Gargan love it. It made him incredibly agile, and almost as strong as the Hulk himself. And there were so many ways to kill people. His favorite was grabbing a guy with one hand and cutting him in half with the pincer on his right arm. In the case of these two guards, though, he'd opted for poison. His stinger housed the most toxic venom the world had ever seen.

Ock's voice rang in his ear, and he picked up the comm call inside the living suit he wore. "I'm inside the Hammer warehouse. Now where's this tech you need me to boost?"

"Crate number 9906753," came the answer. "Use the nanotron sensor I've provided."

In a giant crate-filled warehouse, the possibility of singling out one single anonymous crate seemed impossible. But using the nanotron—a device designed by the doctor to detect the presence of nanotechnology—Scorpion found the crate. He ripped off the top of the crate in one smooth motion to reveal an open black suitcase with a small missile projectile inside, no longer than a cigar.

Gargan withdrew the Scorpion symbiote suit inside his skin and picked up the missile. "All this for one missile?" he asked. "Seems like a waste of time, huh Doc?"

"On the contrary, Mister Gargan," answered Doc Ock. "Size can be deceiving."

"Sandman? Rhino? Report."

Sandman's right hand, in the form of a giant spiked mace, smashed through a pair of Hammer Industries drones. The drones had been built to military-grade standards, but under Sandman's attack they collapsed in a shower of sparks. The door to the vault was just ahead. As he parried a shot from another drone, he felt a rush of moving air behind him. An instant later, a group of Hammer drones flew against the wall and collapsed in a tangle. Rhino was making good use of his skills.

"We're in, Ock," he radioed back to the doctor. Looking around, it seemed all the Hammer drones had been neutralized. "Quick question, though. When did the army start guarding this place with big robots?"

"They haven't," answered Doc Ock. "Those are Hammer drones. Minions of Tony Stark's old enemy, Justin Hammer."

"What?" asked the Rhino. "This is their base now?" The two of them were inside an old army base in New Mexico.

"It was, Alexei," Doc Ock radioed. "They're long gone. HYDRA moved in during the occupation and set up shop. But files we took from S.H.I.E.L.D. show the late Dr. List left one of his experiments behind."

With a loud rumble, Rhino burst through the doors to the vault, blast shielded doors that crumpled under his charge like aluminum foil. In the room beyond was a small podium with a circular metallic disk, like a Frisbee, sitting on top of it.

"Be careful with it," Doc Ock snapped.

That was what they came for. Sandman picked it up before he and the Rhino made their way back outside.

Electro had already infiltrated the British Museum in London when he got the call. "Electro?" Doc Ock radioed.

"Yeah, yeah," Electro grumbled. He switched off the capacitors on his suit, reverting back to his human form. The suit that Doctor Octopus had designed him allowed him to fulfill his dream of becoming living electricity, keeping his altered body in a state of perpetual constant electrical form. His skin ceased to glow a translucent blue, and he reverted to his original human form underneath his suit.

For that was what he was, at his core: a puny, weak human named Max Dillon, who'd made a living working for Hammer Industries constructing drones. At least, until a freak generator accident had given him his impressive electrical powers. Hammer Industries had quietly dismissed him with enough workman's comp that he'd never have to work again in his life, but his newfound powers had made him hate his human form. Enter Doctor Octopus, who'd offered to help him achieve this dream in exchange for his services under Ock's leadership.

But when Electro had agreed, running errands like this weren't what he'd had in mind. "Gotta tell you, Doc, feeling a little underappreciated here," he said as he walked the halls of the British Museum, passing the many artifact exhibits. "Everyone else here is going after all kinds of high tech crap, and you got me stealing a butter knife."

He moved towards the exhibit that Ock had instructed him to, a glass case with a curved blade on display inside. The blade was about two feet long, a dark black in color, as if it had been carved from pure ebony. The exhibit's display case read: "Marduk Helstrom's Dagger."

"Should have brought some toast," Electro mused, staring at the dagger.

"Trust me, Mister Dillon," Doc Ock said. "That 'butter knife' cuts sharper than you think."

"Done," Doctor Octopus said, switching off the radio channels. He turned to face Mysterio. "And with that out of the way, I'll tell you why we had this little 'scavenger hunt', Mister Beck, as you so quaintly put it."

He stalked closer to the man on his tentacles, almost menacingly, as he spoke. "Because those were the last three pieces of the entire puzzle. And now nothing can stop me. This world is mine."

Over the past few days, the heroes at the Avengers Compound had slowly begun to accept that life would begin again as normal. The X-Men had returned to Xavier Mansion, in Westchester, to check on the condition of the grounds and hopefully rebuild any damage done there. This was very much an exploratory foray, and it was understood that if nothing remained of the X-Men's headquarters and they needed a place to stay, they could return to the Avengers Compound.

For the heroes who were based in New York, however, the compound remained their home. They couldn't return to New York because of the Kingpin's stance on superhero activity. The city's borders were on lockdown, and from what the news told them, the people inside New York City were fine with no supers. In fact, that seemed to be a popular stance in the weeks following the burial of Captain America. There was a good portion of the population that still supported the Sokovia Accords, even if politically the United States had withdrawn from them.

The superheroes were staying at the Avengers Compound, which so far was a safe and secure location for them. But not for long. Groups of anti-hero sympathizers had gathered in front of the Avengers Compound to demonstrate in a so-far peaceful protest, carrying signs and yelling through bullhorns telling the heroes to hang up their costumes. The protest had become a daily occurrence, and grew in size with each passing day. Now there were around three dozen protestors in front of the compound walls.

There was a snarl, and the protestors raised their eyes to see Devil Dinosaur, towering over them in full height, staring at them from the other side of the wall curiously, as if deciding who would be his next meal. The sight of Devil Dinosaur prowling the grounds of the compound was enough to dissolve their courage, and the protestors scattered quickly, muttering about not being paid enough as they returned to their cars and drove off.

From the compound, Moon Boy grinned. He and Michelangelo were standing on an outer balcony, watching Devil Dinosaur stomp across the overgrown lawn. "I'll make sure he gets plenty of table scraps for dinner tonight," Moon Boy told Mikey.

"Mikey!" a voice called behind them. They turned to see Leo standing in the doorway. "You have to see this."

Leo and Mikey ran to the rec room, where Splinter and the other two turtles were watching the screen for a Channel 6 News Broadcast. On screen was Carlos Chiang O'Brien Gambe, in front of a picture of a group of supervillains on the steps of New York City Hall.

"This is Carlos Chiang O'Brien Gambe here," O'Brien said. "Breaking news: reformed rogues! Earlier today, Mayor Wilson Fisk announced the creation of a specialized task force as part of a larger effort at addressing the threat posed by the Avengers. They call themselves the Thunderbolts, and while they may look like heroes, a quick background check will tell you that these guys have rap sheets longer than the lines at Coney Island! Can these composed criminals be trusted? We'll find out soon enough."

"Thunderbolts?" Mikey laughed. "Dude, that's such a lame name! They should have gone with something like ..." He paused, thinking for a moment. "The Dark Avengers," he finally said, ominously scowling to send the point home.

"Every second we're here, Kingpin gets more powerful and Mikey gets more annoying," Raph said. "We need to go back to the city and take him down."

"How do you suppose we do that?" asked Donnie. "The city's on full lockdown."

"If Daredevil made it through, so can we," said Raph. "Nobody knows he's Daredevil. And nobody knows we're alive, either."

"I don't know, guys," Mikey said. "You think we should run this by Tony Stark? I mean, he's kind of running this whole hero thing now."

"Tony's not our boss," Raph countered. "And besides, he and the Avengers are heading off to Australia soon to deal with the Sinister Six. We're not gonna have any backup on this one. Just us."

Donnie turned to Leo. "Leo, it's your call."

Leo glanced at Splinter, who said nothing. Finally the blue turtle said, "As much as I have misgivings about this, Raph is right. The longer Kingpin's on top of the city, the more danger the city and all of us heroes are in. Only a matter of time before these protests outside turn violent, now that he knows where we are." He turned to Splinter. "Sensei, you ready to go home?"

"I have been home, my son, for these past weeks," Splinter said simply. "Ever since you and your brother returned from space, returned from where we thought you lost." The mutant rat stood up. "But you are correct. The Kingpin poses a grave threat to the city with the Foot Clan and its resources behind him. To keep New York safe, we must end this long feud between us. It is time we returned to the city."

"Agreed," said Leo.

"I'll break the news to April," Donnie volunteered.

Preparations took little time; the turtles didn't have much to pack. April and Casey weren't too thrilled with the idea of being left out, but it was for the best. If they both went back to the city, their affiliation to the turtles would put them in serious danger. They'd wait until the turtles had gotten into the city and sent a signal, and then try to come through with Kirby. They'd have to leave Metalhead behind for now, but the Mutanimals promised to take good care of the robot.

Leo dipped his hand in the water of the East River. It was absolutely freezing.

"Cold, huh?" asked Mikey.

"Yeah," Leo said, grimacing.

The turtles were huddled at the base of one of the stone towers of the Brooklyn Bridge, only about five feet above the surface of the East River. The bridge, like the others leading into New York City, had been destroyed. They were about 1,000 feet away from the walls that surrounded New York City.

"Forget the temperature," Donnie said, leaning forward over Leo's shoulder to look at the water. "The toxicity level's gotta be off the charts. You'd have to be crazy to swim in that sludge."

"Maybe," said Leo. "But no boats and no bridges don't leave us much of a choice." He turned to his brothers.

"Stay behind if it bothers you that much," Raph said, playfully joshing Donnie's arm. "Master Splinter, Leo and I will carry you across."

Splinter nodded.

"Okay, enough chit-chat," Leo said. He'd scanned the edge of the city walls for any sentries, and seen none. If they were to move, they needed to move now. "See you on the other side."

The turtles slid into the water silently and began the long swim to the city. The water didn't get any warmer. It was ice cold, even though it was the end of summer, the hottest time of the year. And it smelled wrong. Tasted even worse, as Mikey unfortunately accidentally discovered.

Swimming through mounds of trash and sludge, they finally reached the edge of the wall, climbing up on the piles of trash that had gathered along the base of the wall. It was a tall wall, formed of concrete and steel, with rusty barbed wire running across the top of it. There were only a few security cameras, seriously low-tech and easily disposed of with a few ninja stars.

"Looks like they're more worried about people getting out than in," said Leo.

"That's a mistake," Raph growled, pulling out his ninja climbing claws. "I'll make sure of it."

The turtles and Splinter climbed the wall and dropped down inside, into a narrow alley filled with cardboard boxes and more trash. The group continued moving through the alley towards the street and stopped just inside the alleyway, still hidden in the shadows. The street was packed with people, as if there was a parade going on. The crowd was in front of a nightclub, a huddled mass being scanned by a tattooed bouncer who let people in in small groups at a time.

"Crap," said Leo.

"What, you expecting a leisurely stroll the whole way or something?" asked Raph.

"And I thought the lower east side was overcrowded before," Mikey mused.

"Doesn't matter," said Leo. "Plan stays the same. We just need to get from here to the lair."

Raph rolled his eyes. "I don't know why we don't just take the fight to Kingpin tonight and end this creep," he said. "We know where he's at. We have the element of surprise on our side."

"Raphael, our first and foremost priority is getting back to the lair," said Splinter. "Then we can worry about the Kingpin."

"With all due respect, Master Splinter," Raph said. "Don't you think you might just be being a little bit overcautious? I mean, we have the momentum now. We saved the world! We have the bad guys on their heels. All we have to do is take down Fisk, and the city is ours again."

Splinter's ears twitched. "Is that how you feel, my son?" He looked at the other turtles, who avoided their sensei's gaze. "And the rest of you?"

The turtles avoided their father's gaze. As much as they listened to him and respected his wisdom, Raph's words voiced what they were all feeling. Energized by the many recent victories, they were itching to put an end to the conflict as soon as possible.

Splinter sensed this. And while he wanted nothing more than to protect his sons, especially after having them reunited together after so long, he knew that in some cases, lessons had to be learned the hard way. "Very well," Splinter said.

The turtles looked up at their sensei, as if they couldn't believe what he'd said. "What?" Raph asked. "You're serious?"

"Yes," said Splinter. "What's more, I am putting you in charge of this mission."

Raph's and Leo's jaws dropped at the same time. "All right!" Raph shouted.

"Come on!" Leo groaned. "Sensei, are you serious?"

"You are maturing quickly, my sons," said Splinter. "Far from the teenagers you once were. I can no longer make all your decisions for you. I can give you advice, I can provide input. But I cannot live my own desires through you. So I leave you to your duties. I will be in the lair awaiting your safe returns."

And with that, he slid down the side of a building and disappeared.

"Wait!" Mikey cried. "Aww, man. I was gonna ask him if this means that I don't have a bedtime anymore. Weo Peo isn't going to speedrun itself, you know. Ow!"

He yelped as Raph smacked him on the back of the head. "You're such a dork, Mike," the red turtle groaned.

"So what's the plan, boss?" asked Leo, his voice thick with resentment at his recent demotion.

"New plan," Raph said with a smirk. "We need to get from here to there." He pointed in the sky, where the top of Fisk Tower could just be barely seen over the skyline.

"How?" asked Donnie. "Grab a cab? That's a pretty long walk, and five mutants packed head to toe with weapons don't exactly blend in."

"Tell us something a little more obvious," Raph grunted. But Donnie was right. Now that they were inside the wall, security would be off the charts. "Besides," Raph added, "you know the drill." He pointed with his sai towards four motorcycles parked outside the nightclub. "Adapt and overcome."

"Good luck with that, Bear Grylls," Mikey joked.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," said Leo. "Do, or do not."

Donnie groaned and rolled his eyes. "And you guys say I'm the nerd."

"You are," all three of the turtles said at once.

Tombstone was having a good night. He and some of his biker gang enforcers had just left Club Alias after shaking down the owners for protection money. Tombstone ran the Grave Diggers biker gang in New York City. Before Kingpin's takeover, they'd been running a nice little drug scheme involving the neighborhood kids of the slums and boroughs. But Kingpin had approached all of the gangs in the city and made them the same offer: join his racket or be eliminated. Tombstone had signed up. It paid pretty well, and the Kingpin still let him run his drug mule business, as long as a slice of profits went up to the Mayor's office every two weeks. And all he had to do was make the rounds and collect racket money.

Stuffing the envelope of cash into his biker vest's pocket, he walked past the club bouncer and returned to the spot where he and his crew had parked their motorcycles. The bike was gone; all that remained in its place was a small oil spill.

"Check it out, boss," one of his men said. "Some fool jacked your wheels."

Growling, Tombstone threw a punch at the wall, putting a melon-sized hole through it. "Are you freaking kidding me? Who the hell's that stupid?"

Leo, Mikey, Raph, and Donnie zoomed through the streets of New York City on the bikes they'd snagged from outside the nightclub, narrowly avoiding jaywalkers and other vehicles. The bikes were loud, souped to the max to meet the needs of the gang members who rode them. Wasn't much of a stealth move. Then again, something was to be said for hiding in plain sight. Old turtles, new tricks, Leo thought.

They rode through the city and took a detour through a nearby construction site, driving up the framework of a skyscraper being built until they were about three stories above the street level and overlooking a sprawling shopping mall complex. A large fuel truck with the word ROXXON on the sides was refueling the garrison's generators, as maintenance workers milled about in orange construction worker uniforms.

"There," Raph said, pointing across the street. "Base of the garrison."

"That's a long way up," Leo noted. "And there's guards everywhere."

"Should have stolen some gliders instead!" Mikey said. "Like Chris Bradford's 2 Ruff Crew!"

"Or a catapult," Donnie interjected. "Silent but deadly."

"Not a bad idea," said Raph. "Except the silent part. We need a diversion."

He pointed up the side of the mall's outer wall, almost directly across from where the turtles stood, at a steel grate covering an air vent. "That's our way in," he said, revving the engine on his bike and backing up to the other end of the room. "Follow my lead," he said, and the other turtles moved with him until they were all lined up next to each other facing the road below.

"Countdown," Raph said. "Three, two, one ... blastoff."

He gunned the motorbike and roared across the room, sailing through the air across the road down towards the fuel truck on his bike as his three brothers followed. Raph stood up on the seat of his bike and leaped, hitting the side of the mall building hard and banging his head into the metal surface. But he held on, clinging to the wall with the climbing claws on his hands.

"What the—?" one of the construction workers shouted in confusion at the sight of a motorbike falling through the air towards him. The other three turtles landed nearby, also having ditched their bikes in mid-flight.

"Run!" the workers yelled, scattering as the bikes crashed into the fuel truck. The explosion sent debris raining down on them while a wall of air sent the construction workers flying. The turtles were already moving, climbing up the wall as Raph, who had reached the vent first, pried the cover off and hoisted himself up, swinging his legs inside. Mikey reached the vent next, pulling himself up and into a wide metal duct in the air control system. The other two turtles followed, and Raph repositioned the vent. The chaos outside should hopefully hide their entry point.

"I lied," Leo said. "To pull this off, we are going to need a little luck."

"Lucky us," Raph grunted, as he began to crawl down the duct.

They had only crawled a few meters when they heard another explosion outside. "Wow, that was graceful," Mikey joked.

"Worked, didn't it?" Raph shot back.

They quickly scurried around a curve, and Donnie pointed to a screen of exposed paneling. "Check out these cables. We hack in, we might be able to download a map of this building."

"No time," said Raph. "Besides, don't let your eyes get fooled by all these tubes and cables. Cause the nose—" He sniffed as if following a scent "—knows the truth."

He climbed up the duct, using a thick cable like a climbing rope, until he reached a utility panel above his head. "You can take the turtle out of the sewer, but you can't take the sewer out of the turtle."

"What?" Leo asked below him. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that no matter what's changed, this is still our home turf," said Raph. He lifted the panel and stuck his head up through the opening, looking down a long hallway packed with mall shoppers. An alarm began to beep, a high-pitched rapid series of electronic beeping.

"I don't recall a lot of manhole alarms back in the day," Leo quipped.

"Zip it!" Raph snapped. With nowhere else to go, the four turtles climbed up into the hallway, in full view of all the shoppers. The crowd began murmuring with excitement.

"Halt!" a robotic voice shouted behind them. The turtles turned to see two figures approaching them through the crowd, wearing helmets and dark gray uniforms.

"Crap," said Leo.

"Security. Lightly armored," Donnie observed. "Some kind of robo-cop."

The robots continued to advance. "Time for an old trick," Leo said, nodding at Mikey. The orange turtle pulled a smoke bomb off of his belt and threw it on the ground with a whoop. A thick purple smoke filled the hallway, and all the robots could do was shout "Halt! Halt!" while they stumbled through the smoke. When it cleared, the turtles were gone.

The two robots drew identical collapsible single-edged ninjato swords from holsters on the backs of their suits and spread out through the mall, branching off into separate hallways and relaying their information through their helmets. "Central, we have intruders in Delta Quadrant. In pursuit."

The turtles clung to the ceiling of a side corridor, holding on to a network of pipes and watching the robot run down the corridor past them, scanning for them. "Fully integrated robot security?" asked Donnie. "With a katana?"

"I gotta take a closer look at this," said Raph.

Leo, realizing what the red turtle was about to do, whispered for him to wait, but it was too late. Raph dropped down from the ceiling and landed on top of the robot, ignoring its order to halt as he punched it in the head before roundhouse kicking it in the chin, dropping the robot to the ground.

Smirking, Raph turned to walk away as the other three turtles fell from the ceiling. But the robot wasn't out yet. "Hhh ... h-h-halt!" It stammered, struggling to its feet and facing the turtles down defiantly with ninjato drawn.

"Woah," Mikey said, stunned.

Raph smirked. "Robo-ninja-cop's tougher than it looks."

"Let's find out," said Donnie, as he and Mikey charged now with their weapons drawn. Mikey went high and Donnie went low, their attacks hitting at the same time. The robot was swept off its feet by the bo staff as a blow from Mikey's nunchuks jerked its head to the side, shattering a chunk of the plastoid helmet and causing it to drop its sword.

Even this combined effort didn't stop the robot, as it staggered back to its feet and lurched forward with empty hands. "H-h-halt ..." Its order to the turtles was cut off by Leo, sailing through the air and swinging his katana as he came down. The robot's body jerked as Leo's blade sliced through its neck, and its body spun and fell to the ground as its head rolled to a stop in front of the turtles.

"Talk about a broken record," Leo said.

Looking closer, the turtles became repulsed by what they saw. Mikey's attack had broken off a piece of the robot's helmet so they could see inside it. A distinctly human eyeball stared out of the helmet back at them, glazed over like a mannequin.

"What the heck?" asked Raph.

"Is that ... a human inside of that armor?" Leo asked shakily.

Donnie squatted down by the head, rolling it over and examining it. "Looks like some kind of cyborg, I think," he said, pointing to the wiring coming out of its neck and the exposed circuitry on the side of its head. "More synthetic than human."

"A synthetic ninja?" asked Mikey in disbelief. "A stinkin' Synja! What kind of sick freak does that to someone?"

"If my knowledge of technology is correct," said Donnie, "this Synja creature was created by Baxter Stockman."

"Storkman?" Raph asked. "That's pretty low, even for him."

From down the corridor, more Synja voices could be heard. "Unit 109 has been disabled. Scanning for suspect."

"Place is going to be crawling with those things soon," said Raph. "Need to keep moving, and stay on mission."

He took off down a fire escape, and the turtles quickly followed, reaching the alleyways outside of the mall which were now crawling with Synjas. "Remember the first real lesson Sensei ever taught us," Leo whispered to his brothers. "Strike hard. Fade away. Never lose focus."

"Hey, I'm the one giving the orders," Raph said, protective of his new role. "What he said," he added quickly, jerking his thumb at Leo.

They moved across the fire escapes in the alleyway, leaping from shadow to shadow and taking down two of the Synjas. The other Synjas noticed the decapitated robot heads rolling down the alleyway, and were just in time to see the turtles disappear around a corner of the alley. "Halt!" they ordered, giving chase with ninjatos at the ready.

Rounding the corner, they looked up to see a green foot disappear through a window which promptly shut. "Suspect located: Residential Complex 661," the Synja captain radioed, as the others advanced into the apartment building. "Requesting air support." It turned to the other Synjas and advised, "Proceed with caution," as they moved in after the turtles.

Two of the Synjas entered on the ground floor, drawing pistols that had been made incorporating the Destroyer Gun technology that the Kingpin had stolen, what felt like ages ago. Each of the Synjas carried them as part of their standard issue armament. The two Synjas started climbing the stairway of the apartment, pistols aimed at the floors above them as they searched for any sign of the turtles.

A crash a metal pole came hurtling down through the air, a floor lamp that had had the lampshade and the bulb removed. The pole impaled both Synja through the head, going through the first one and through the head of the second, sending them rolling back down the stairway. From four stories up, the turtles watched as their attack took out two of the Synjas.

There was a crash from behind them as another Synja broke through the window that they'd climbed through, and entered the room behind them. "Halt!" it ordered, firing a thin powerful energy bolt from its Destroyer Gun pistol that Raph barely managed to duck under. These things were fast. And packing more than just swords, it seemed.

The turtles quickly ducked down the hallway and exited the window, climbing up onto the roof from the top floor. The sound of a helicopter's propellers cut through the New York night air, indicating the approaching air support the Synjas had called. Close quarters combat with the Synjas was a mistake; the turtles would just end up painting themselves into a corner.

Raph called to mind the basic training that Splinter had imposed on them as young turtles, the training that had saved their lives more than once. To be a true warrior, one must know when to crouch, when to leap, when to stand firm, and most importantly, when to fly.

A train horn sounded, announcing the NYC express train cutting past the Queens apartment building they were standing on top of. A plan suddenly sprung into Raph's mind, and he motioned for his brothers to leap onto the train as it passed by. The other three turtles obeyed, and the motion outside the window caught the attention of the Synja still inside the apartment building. It poked its head out of the window and aimed its pistol, which was exactly what Leo was waiting for. He grabbed it by the arm, messing up its aim and sending the shot wide as he too leaped, releasing the Synja in mid-air as it fell four stories to the street below.

As for Raph, he landed on the second-to-last car of the train, his brothers all further up the train on the roof of the cars. The plan had worked, carrying them up towards Central Park faster than they'd been going before. And they'd managed to lose the Synjas in pursuit, too. But the helicopter was still on their tail, the train slow enough that the chopper could keep pace with them. It soon caught up, shining a spotlight down on the turtles huddled on the roof of the train.

Over the roar of the helicopter blades, Leo shouted to his brothers, "We need to get to Fisk Tower faster."

Raph pointed up at the helicopter above them. "This should work," he said, before running towards Leo. Leo, realizing what his brother had planned, stooped slightly and laced his fingers together. Raph jumped, stepping into Leo's hands as Leo himself lifted, giving Raph a extra boost and sending the red turtle flying up towards the chopper.

Raph grabbed the landing gear on the bottom of the helicopter, wrapping his arms around it and climbing up the side until he could see inside. It was a small helicopter, a re-commissioned NYPD chopper that was being piloted by two Synjas. Both Synjas saw Raph and ordered him to halt while the one in the copilot's chair fumbled for its pistol. Raph managed to pry the door open with a sai and reached through, grabbing the Synja in the co-pilot's seat and throwing him out. He kicked the door the rest of the way open and swung inside, knocking the other Synja out through the other side of the copter.

Raph was no pilot, but he managed to lower the chopper just enough for his three brothers to climb inside. He gladly took a backseat while Donnie assumed control of the chopper. "This should work," the purple turtle said, pulling the flight yoke to the side.

The chopper broke away from the train and veered off towards the direction of Central Park. But the small helicopter was overweight with four adolescent turtles packed inside. Donnie's slight maneuver sent the chopper spinning into a barrel roll. "Or noooottt!" Mikey screamed, as the other turtles shouted and yelled while Donnie tried to pull out. The chopper almost struck the top of one of the buildings, missing it by a hair as he pulled out of the barrel roll.

"Sewer apples!" Donnie groaned. "Controls are jammed!" He tugged helplessly on the flight yoke as the helicopter quickly lost altitude, spinning out of control and passing through a billboard advertising Antonio's Pizza-Rama. "Jump!" yelled Donnie.

The turtles bailed, leaping out of the helicopter onto the nearest rooftop. Climbing to their feet, they looked up and saw the out-of-control chopper dropping quickly towards them. "Seriously?!" Raph shouted. The turtles scattered as the chopper hit the roof where they'd been standing, sliding off and down into the street out of view. Moments later, a massive fireball erupted in the street, knocking out windows with the blast.

Mikey glowered at Donnie. "Smooth moves, Don."

"Whatever," Donnie grumped.

"Classic," Raph complained. "You still can't fly ten feet in a straight line."

"Shut up!" Donnie snapped.

But Raph and Mikey were right. The chopper had drawn way too much attention to the turtles. Leo stepped in between them, calming everyone down. "We need to stick to what we know best," he said. "And this—" He pointed across the rooftops. "This is more like it."

The turtles grinned and ran off across the rooftops of New York City, like they'd done so many times before, putting distance between themselves and the crash site as they made their way towards Fisk Tower. "We're coming for you, Kingpin."

"Am I mistaken, Wesley," Kingpin asked slowly, "or is there some kind of disturbance currently taking place in Queens?"

"Y ... yes, sir," Wesley said. "The Synjas' facial recognition software has picked up the ninja turtles. We don't know how they got into the city; we think it was from the bottom district."

"And where exactly are the turtles currently?" asked Kingpin.

"We have them surrounded in the lower business zone," Wesley answered. "Permission to sound the general alarm?"

From his office in Fisk Tower, Kingpin could look out over the city. New York's night skyline was as bright as ever, but to him it was tainted. Because he knew that somewhere, out there, four teenage turtles were daring to stand against him. Trying to tear down everything he'd worked for.

And he would not stand for it.

"Permission granted," he told Wesley, as he walked back towards his desk. "Furthermore, lethal force is duly authorized. Insubordination from these 'heroes' cannot be tolerated. Lessons must be learned from this, Wesley. Examples must be made. Ensure that our police force has live video feeds running at all times. I want this important operation broadcast to the entire city, top to bottom. Pursuit, capture, and execution."

The turtles soon reached Fisk Tower in the uptown district of New York. It looked much different than the first time they'd come here, before the invasion. For one, security was much much tighter than before. The plaza in front of the tower had been cleared by Kingpin's enforcers, who milled about inside the plaza with assault rifles at the ready. All the hired muscle was wearing bulletproof vests and heavy-duty uniforms. The plaza was being used as a staging ground; trucks were being loaded and moved out with assembly line efficiency. Kingpin was up to something big.

Crouched on the rooftop of a building across the street, the turtles watched. "Think you just ran out of miracles, bro," said Mikey.

"We've been in tough spots before," Donnie added, "but that's practically impossible."

Leo peered down into the plaza. "There's military grade equipment and Kingpin's hardcore enforcers everywhere. And the entrance to the tower is way on the other side of the plaza."

There were too many to sneak past. But Raph had never been a fan of the stealth approach anyway. And here, on Kingpin's doorstep, he wouldn't expect a direct attack. It could just buy them a few extra minutes. They needed to get inside the main doors before Kingpin knew what had hit him.

"Well, then," said Raph with a grin, "we better get a ride."

Just outside the gates of the plaza in front of Fisk Tower, a couple of Kingpin's henchmen were checking the delivery trucks before they left the plaza and drove out into the city. One of the henchmen shut the cargo doors of the truck and waved at his partner, up near the driver's side of the truck.

The other henchman waved the truck driver through. "You're clear to go," he said gruffly.

The truck driver gave him a thumbs-up. "Affirma-"

His sentence was cut short as Leo yanked him out of the driver's seat through the open passenger door and slammed him into the ground. Raph hopped behind the wheel while the other three turtles climbed up on top of the truck. The red turtle hit reverse, sending the truck flying backwards into the delivery truck behind it. There was a crash and a lurch as metal warped metal and the windshield on the other truck shattered.

Switching gears, Raph stomped on the gas pedal, and whipped the steering wheel around. The truck spun in a circle until it was facing the entryway of Fisk Tower, and then took off, tires squealing, doing a wild dance in the tower plaza that sent Kingpin's henchmen diving out of the way. Raph didn't let go of the pedal until the truck had crashed through the large double doors of the tower. He heard the screech of metal as he squeezed into the gap, and he heard a clunk as something on the side of the truck was sheared off. His brothers had jumped off the top of the truck before it had gone through the doors, and now ran inside the entrance lobby. Kicking open the driver's side door, Raph leaped off as the truck crashed into the guard's station in the lobby.

The truck burst into flames. The hallway soon filled up with smoke, as alarms went off and sprinklers sprayed water down on them.

They had seconds. Less than seconds. But it should be the time they needed to—

From across the lobby, three elevators pinged at the same time. Armed guards poured out, rifles trained on the turtles. The turtles ran to meet them with weapons drawn. The fight couldn't have lasted more than a minute before the guards all lay on the floor. But it had been a nice warm-up. Raph's punches and kicks had filled him with adrenaline, like a refreshing glass of water after a dry hot night.

He pointed up at the nearest security camera. "I know you're watching, Kingpin, and I know you're scared!" he yelled. "We're coming for you, you coward!"

From his office desk, Kingpin had seen everything on the security cameras. As Raph finished his threat, Kingpin pushed a button on a panel on his desk, connecting himself to Wesley's pager. "Wesley," he said in an even tone, "why am I looking at the terrorist infiltrator inside the lowest levels of my tower?"

"Sir, I understand your concern, but I have activated every resource available to stop him."

Kingpin pounded a fist into his desk, splintering the surface with a large crack. Great. Now he'd have to get the desk replaced. "Incompetent fools."

Hitting another button on the panel, he ordered, "Activate the Stockman tech!"

The turtles, meanwhile, had fought their way up a flight of stairs until they'd reached the 62nd floor, where the stairs seemed to stop. The stairwell they were in didn't go any higher, so if they wanted to get to the upper floors, they'd have to find an elevator or something.

The door at the top of the stairs was locked, with a fancy-looking electronic panel attached to the lock. Donnie took a crack at it. "Biometric security. Best guess, an old-school retinal scanner."

"Technobabble to English translation?" asked Raph.

Donnie huffed and rolled his eyes. "The door unlocks if you scan your eyeballs," he said, slowly and overexaggerated, as if explaining to a small child.

"Eyeballs, huh?" Raph bent and grabbed one of the unconscious guards, smashing his face against the scanner. The scanner beeped, and a light on the panel glowed green as the door's lock clicked.

Dropping the guard, the turtles moved into a large foyer in front of Kingpin's main office. This looked like the waiting room before Kingpin's office. There were a lot of decorative plants, two floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the room, and a secretary's desk in front of a short flight of stairs up to the double doors that provided entrance into Kingpin's office. The desk was empty, and so was the rest of the room. It was a little eerie.

"We're here, Kingpin!" Raph shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "Face us!"

A large television screen above Kingpin's office doors shimmered as it lit up, showing live footage of Kingpin sitting at his desk just on the other side of the wall. He could see them, and they were watching him. "Blathering idiots," he scorned. "You actually believe I'd soil my own hands with your filth? I am the master here. Master of all. Others do my every bidding." He sat back in his desk chair. "Still ... the Shredder thought he'd killed off you pathetic mutants before. A mistake I will not make twice."

The office doors exploded outward as M.O.U.S.E.R. robots flew out from the Kingpin's office towards them. The turtles blinked to make sure they were seeing things correctly, but yes, the M.O.U.S.E.R.S. were flying. From what the turtles remembered about M.O.U.S.E.R.S., the robots were about knee high, and had sharp teeth that were strong enough to bite through steel. They still only had two legs, but had been upgraded to include some kind of hover-propulsion system that let them fly through the air like drones. Probably tech that Stockman had ripped off from Tony Stark. In addition, the red "eye" that each M.O.U.S.E.R had on top of its head had been upgraded as well, now giving them the ability to shoot lasers from their heads.

The turtles ducked for cover behind the secretary desk as red laser beams flew past them into the wall. "Flying M.O.U.S.E.R.S.?" Mikey cried. "With lasers?!"

As if that wasn't bad enough, a giant robotic suit crashed through the wall behind the flying M.O.U.S.E.R.S. It looked like Baxter Stockman's old Stockman-Pod, except that this time there was no one piloting the suit. It was a fifteen-foot-tall mech, operated by artificial intelligence.

"Oh, great," Leo groaned. "Stockman's gotten upgrades."

Laser bolts thudded into the desk as the flying M.O.U.S.E.R.S. drew nearer. "Fine!" Raph shouted. "Let's take them out! Donnie!"

Donnie stood up and threw a disc-like object towards the cloud of M.O.U.S.E.R.S. "Localized EMP for the little ones!" he called. The disc emitted a shockwave that surged through the small M.O.U.S.E.R.S., sending them clattering to the floor. The big M.O.U.S.E.R, however, was unharmed, and began to charge towards them.

"Something more conventional for the big one," Raph said with a grin. Yelling, he charged the M.O.U.S.E.R mech, leaping through the air and burying his sai in the suit's right shoulder. The mech shuddered but didn't go down, instead changing its course because of Raph's attack. It careened into the other three turtles, kicking Mikey with its foot and dragging Leo and Donnie with its other arm as it held onto Raph.

Their momentum had carried them too far, and the M.O.U.S.E.R crashed through the window of the foyer, carrying the four turtles with it as it began the long fall to the city streets below.

Raph felt like he was falling in slow motion. He could process everything; the small shards of glass that fell around them like rain, the mindless motions of the M.O.U.S.E.R robot, and the scared, terrified expressions on his brothers' faces. No. Not like this. Not after we came so close. Falling. Failing.

He kicked the M.O.U.S.E.R robot away from him, and it spun away into the side of Fisk Tower, exploding and scattering chunks of Stockman tech into the air. Drawing his grapple gun from his belt, Raph reached out a hand and grabbed Mikey by the forearm as he fired the grapple gun back up at Fisk Tower. Mikey managed to grab hold of Donnie, and Leo grabbed on to the end of Donnie's staff, clinging to it desperately.

The grapple gun caught, and the rope went taut as the four turtles hung against the side of the tower. "Hold on, everyone!" Raph shouted, straining. "Hold on!"

The turtles groaned as they used all their strength to hold each other up. The destroyed M.O.U.S.E.R pieces fell far far below them and landed in the street, causing pedestrians to take notice. The grappling hook, under the weight of all four turtles, began to grow tighter and tighter, until it snapped.

The turtles screamed as they fell, bouncing against the side of the tower and rolling down its steep, unforgiving surface towards the street, which was rapidly approaching. Raph pulled his arms, legs, and head into his shell as he fell to hopefully find whatever protection he could. Then everything went black as he landed.

Raph's vision was hazy as he opened his eyes. He was still alive, somehow, lying in the middle of the street and surrounded by curious onlookers. Everything felt broken. He couldn't remember what had happened. All he knew was he was here to fight the Kingpin. He struggled to rise, his limbs feeling like lead and sluggish to respond. "Fisk ..." he groaned. "Come face me. Fisk ... you ... coward."

"Raph!" It was Leo's voice, and suddenly everything came back to Raph in a flash. He had fallen out of the tower after fighting the big M.O.U.S.E.R robot. His head spinning, he looked around for the other turtles. They were all here, all three of his brothers. Everyone looked terrible, but considering they'd all fallen countless stories into the hard cement, it was a miracle they were still alive.

Then, an unwelcome voice reached Raph's ears. It was the sound of the Synja's robotic voices, as they moved through the crowd towards the turtles. "All citizens, disperse immediately! By order of Mayor Wilson Fisk!"

With a painful grunt, Raph struggled to his feet. He could feel his broken ribs painfully pressing against his lungs, threatening to puncture them. But he had no choice. He wouldn't let them finish his brothers this way. He wouldn't dishonor his family.

The Synjas were pushing their way through the crowd, trying to reach the spot where the targets had fallen to the street. But the crowd, resentful against Fisk's martial law, didn't respect the Synjas or take them seriously as law enforcement. They refused to move, even sometimes pushing back against the cyborg cops. In response, the Synjas drew their ninjato swords and waved them threateningly, as the crowd backed off to give them a wide berth. "Disperse immediately!" the Synjas ordered. "Lethal force authorized!"

"Hey, bag o' bolts!" a voice called.

The Synjas turned towards the sound of the voice, spotting a tall woman, about 5'9, on the edge of the crowd. She was wearing ripped jeans and a black leather jacket to match her equally jet-black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her face was lean, but her gaze intense. She was muscular, but looked small standing in front of the hulking African-American man behind her. The man was four inches taller than she, and his XXL shirt was straining to contain his muscular bulk. He was bald, with a neatly-trimmed goatee.

The woman gestured with her thumb down the street. "Dudes you're looking for aren't dead," she said. "Took off that way."

Without so much as a thanks, the Synja squad headed down the street in the direction the woman had said. "All units, the terrorists are still alive. Redirect pursuit towards Central Park." As the Synja headed off, the crowd slowly began to disperse, the brief moment of adventure and excitement gone.

The woman, whose name was Jessica Jones, turned towards the man behind her. "Alright, Luke," she told him. "You hang here and make sure the robo-cops don't backtrack. I'm gonna check those things out."

Luke Cage nodded wordlessly as Jessica vanished in the alley she'd seen the turtles disappear down. She was following a blood trail, a dark deep crimson color. "Holy hell," she muttered to herself. As a private detective, she was used to following trails, sometimes bloody. But this one—these guys were bleeding out big-time.

The trail ended at an open manhole cover, the blood disappearing into the dark damp black of New York City's sewer tunnels. It would be impossible to follow a trail in those conditions. Impossible for her, at least.

Lucky for her, though, Jessica knew a guy.

Raph stumbled mindlessly through the sewer, his footsteps heavy and sloshing through the ankle-high water. He clutched his wounded side, hobbling slowly. Behind him, the other three turtles were following just as slowly. Leo had stopped to help carry Donnie, whose breaths were coming increasingly shakily. He hadn't stopped to check on how bad everyone's injuries were. They just had to get back to the Lair, like they'd planned. Splinter could help. Splinter would know what to do.

Raph was beating himself up over the failure. Splinter had made it a point to leave him in charge, and look at what had happened. He could have gone down fighting, and let those M.O.U.S.E.R. things finish him off. But that would just be avoiding the inevitable. He should have known this was a suicide mission from the start. And maybe he could throw his own life away, but he couldn't throw away his brothers'.

He coughed, a hacking couch that sent a clot of blood and mucus into his hand. Not good. They were almost home. Just a little farther.

Behind him, Mikey groaned feebly and collapsed face-first into the sewer water with a splash, making no move to get up. Leo looked up at Raph, his expression pleading. "Raph ..."

Raph moved without hesitation towards Mikey's side, picking up his younger brother and slinging his arm over his own shoulder to help carry him the rest of the way back to the Lair.

They reached the Lair, pushing their way through the subway turnstiles into the main room of the lair. It was just as messy as it had been when they'd left to go with Doctor Strange, all those years ago. It had only been a few years, but it felt like a lifetime. Or maybe it was their injuries; it was hard for Raph to think about anything too hard right now. He was in survival mode.

Splinter emerged from the dojo, and his eyes shot open at the sight of his wounded children. "My sons!"

In a flash, he had moved to their side. But Raph had already hit the floor out cold.

Splinter spent the next few days caring for his sons, using a mixture of ancient Oriental healing methods and medical supplies he salvaged from the surface during the night. Eventually, the turtles' conditions stabilized. They would be okay, but it would take some time.

Splinter decided it was time to speak to Raphael about the mission. It had been somewhat of a test, a test of both the turtles' abilities and a test of Splinter's faith in his own sons. And it seemed that both tests had been failed.

Replacing the red turtle's bandages, Splinter listened to Raphael recall the mission, from stealing the motorcycles to escaping down the manhole. "So, Raphael," he said slowly, trying to comprehend what he had said. "You disregarded advice from your other brothers, and ran headfirst into a situation of which you knew nothing? You led your brothers into danger willingly?"

"No," Raph said. "It ... it's not like that. I ... I was just—"

"Just what, my son?" Splinter asked. "Too angry? Too ... out of control?"

"No. I ..." Raph's face fell, and he shut his eyes in shame. " ... yeah. I guess so."

"There is no need to guess," said Splinter. "It is clear your anger overtook you. Your better judgement was lost in the maelstrom of your emotions, in your desire for vengeance at all costs." He moved to a tray holding a steaming teapot and two cups, to get both him and his son a refreshment. It was time, he felt, to reveal a part of himself that he was ashamed of, but one he felt his son would benefit from knowing.

"I know this to be true because I have been lost to that same dark storm many times," he said slowly.

Raph's eyes grew wide. "You ... you have?"

"Yes." Splinter poured the tea. "It may be difficult to believe, but I was once young like you and your brothers. New to the ways of the ninja. Inexperienced, and raw. And, all too often, prone to an intense anger I could not fully comprehend, nor control."

He brought the tray over and laid it on Raph's nightstand, handing his son one of the teacups and keeping one for himself. "It was only over the course of time, through the patient teachings of one far wiser than me, the unconditional love of one on whom I could always depend, and finally, the unwavering trust of four who depended wholly on me, that I was able to control the black rage burning in my soul. To allow calm and common sense to be my masters at all times. To use force only after any and all peaceful paths had first been explored. To forego the anger and pride that, at all times, threatened to consume me."

Raph dragged a finger around the rim of his teacup. "But that ... that ain't always so easy, Master Splinter."

"The honorable way rarely is, my son. And, sadly, for some, like you and me, following the path of peace can be the most difficult battle of all. But it is a battle we must fight." Splinter took a sip of his tea.

Raph still hadn't touched his. "I get what you're saying," he said. "I really do. And I know you're right. It's just ... it's just I also know, if we don't do something, Kingpin's gonna keep his iron grip on the city and ... and innocent people are gonna get killed." His temper flared at the thought. "That jerk ... all the twisted crap he does to other people—maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think he deserves any more chances."

"On that, my son," said Splinter, "we do not disagree. Once you have taken the time to heal from your wounds, and spent some time training, to refresh your minds and bodies how to fight together as one unit—

"Then we will discuss what needs to be done to free this city."