Mikey was frozen, staring in wide-eyed horror at what had become of his friend. Leatherhead lowered down to all fours, letting out another threatening crocodilian hiss. The giant gator then began stalking towards the two turtles, muscles rippling under dark scales even as his form flickered in and out of reality. Raphael shuffled back hesitantly, unsure at first if running was the wisest option. All he knew was standing there and waiting to be eaten wasn't the way to go about it. He reached forward, grabbing hold of the other turtle's shoulder.
"What are you doing?! Run, you fool!" he shouted before taking off down the path they'd just come from. This was apparently all the movement Leatherhead needed to see to entice him. The gator charged forward, his powerful jaws open wide to snap at whatever he could get his teeth on.
Michelangelo snapped out of his daze at the last minute. With Leatherhead barreling towards him, razor teeth just inches from his flesh, he did the only thing he could think of to escape; he dove into the water. Desperate as the option was, it gave him only a brief reprieve from the chase. He could hear the distinct sound of something heavy diving into the water behind him. Mikey suddenly realized just how poor a choice he'd made. He was being chased by a crazed mutant gator, one of the most deadly creatures in the water. He'd just leapt right into its home turf.
Mikey swam as fast as he could, but he knew he could never swim fast enough. He could already feel the bow waves at his feet as the gator rocketed towards him. This was it. He had no other choice. Mikey grabbed hold of his remaining nunchaku, swinging the weapon as hard as he possibly could as he spun around in the water to face his foe. He managed to strike just in time to hit Leatherhead right across the snout. The gator faltered, dazed for a moment by the blow, just long enough for Mikey to reach the other side of the filthy river of sewage and climb out.
His escape was short-lived once again. It seemed as soon as he'd reached the relative safety of the brick path Leatherhead had regained his senses and was after him once again. The gator shot out of the water and slammed a hand into the turtle's chest, pinning him violently against the wall. Mikey let out a scream of pain as putrid gray smoke rose up from around Leatherhead's hand, the touch of his flesh literally burning right into his plastron. Michelangelo struggled instinctively, and managed to slip away during one of the moments when the monstrous gator involuntarily flickered between dimensions.
Mikey clutched at his chest where Leatherhead's hand print was now permanently embedded, the smell of burnt bone filling his nostrils as he fought to catch his breath. He couldn't continue like this forever, not if Leatherhead's mere touch could burn right through him. The gator was now stalking towards him once more, preparing another charge. Mikey backed away slowly, not wanting to enrage the large reptile any more than he already was.
"L-Leatherhead... C-c'mon, buddy... W-we're friends..." Mikey pleaded desperately, genuinely on the verge of tears. He couldn't stand to see Leatherhead like this, and the fact that his own alternate self had done this to him only made it more painful to see. Another low hiss was his only reply, two glowing blue eyes staring him down, that powerful tail flicking back and forth behind the scaled beast.
"Michelangelo!" The call came ringing through the tunnels, echoing off the brick walls. It was Raphael. "Lead it through one of the gates! The ones we'd opened earlier! Do it now!"
Mikey only had a second to look around to see what Raphael was referring to. The gate they'd passed through was on the other side of the water, but there was another one on his side, just a few yards behind him. He made a break for it, turning and sprinting for the opening. Leatherhead charged the instant he saw movement, following right on the turtle's heels. Mikey didn't dare look back. He just ran as fast as his body would let him.
Suddenly, there was a loud metallic crash followed closely by a roar of pain. Mikey stopped, turning around to see what it was. Leatherhead had just gotten his head through the gate when it had slammed down on the back of his neck. The gator thrashed about wildly, trying with all of his strength to free himself from the heavy slab of steel. It was no use. The gate wouldn't budge, not in the direction the beast wanted, at least.
Each time Leatherhead's body flickered out of reality the gate lowered a few inches more, embedding itself deep into the gator's flesh once he flickered back. He let out a loud roar, thrashing more desperately as the gate sunk deeper and deeper into his neck, glowing blue blood pouring out onto the sludge-covered bricks below, flowing into the murky river running through the tunnels.
"Stop it! Stop it, you're killing him!" Mikey shrieked, unable to watch the gruesome spectacle any longer. His voice carried through the tunnels as well as Raphael's had, and soon the gate rose up to the ceiling once more.
It was too late. Leatherhead lay motionless under the gate, his head nearly severed completely from his body. Michelangelo dropped to his knees, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared down at the body of his friend. He was motionless for a long while, silent, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to think. Even in the hot, humid air of the tunnels he felt suddenly cold, like all the happiness had been drained from his body, like he'd just done something absolutely unspeakable.
Soon enough, Mikey heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.
"Well then, there's that brute taken care of. Let's be off, shall we?" Raphael commented as casually as ever. Mikey felt his fists ball at his sides. In an instant the ninja was on his feet. He grabbed hold of the collar of the other turtle's coal-stained coat, slamming him against the brick walls as hard as he could.
"You son of a bitch! He was my friend!" Michelangelo roared out, his voice shaking with pure rage. Raphael actually flinched at that, almost seeming to duck away from the furious turtle as much as he could.
"It was trying to kill us! What else would you have me do?! That beast couldn't be reasoned with!"
"Only because of what you did to him! The Leatherhead I know wouldn't have hurt anyone on purpose! He was smart, and the best friend I ever had... And you killed him!"
Raphael stared into Mikey's eyes, almost fearfully so. He never thought this version of his brother, so aloof and goofy, would be capable of such fury. Clearly he'd crossed a line here.
"L-look... I am sorry. I truly am..." Raphael started calmly, trying to defuse the ticking time bomb that Michelangelo was currently. "But you have to understand, there wasn't anything else that could be done. Sometimes the only thing you can do for a creature like that is show mercy and put it out of it's misery."
Mikey's fists tightened around the fabric of the other turtle's coat. He wanted to hit him, he wanted to pummel the crap out of him and toss him into the sewage. Anyone who could have done something so heartless and cruel to another living being deserved that much and worse... But he needed Raphael. Mikey didn't know the first thing about this machine, and there were still repairs to be made before he could be sent back to his world. Like it or not, without this callous version of his own brother, he would be hopelessly lost in this labyrinth of a machine for the rest of his life.
After a long moment, Michelangelo finally released him. Raphael released the breath he'd been holding, taking a moment to fix his coat. The ninja glared at him in silence, holding back his anger as the other turtle simply climbed over Leatherhead's body to get back on the proper path. Mikey opted to go a slightly more respectful route, instead climbing over the rubble of the broken wall the gator had smashed through earlier. He ignored the pain in his chest as best he could as he hopped down to the path below. He took one last glance back at his friend's corpse. He wished he could do more, at least give the old gator a proper burial, but there wasn't any time. He continued on after Raphael, following a bit more reluctantly than he had previously.
The remainder of their trek was made in silence. The two of them navigated the sewer tunnels until they came upon an access hatch. Raphael led the way, climbing up yet another steel ladder to reach the heavy submarine-style door. He wrenched the wheel loose, opening the lock and pushing the heavy slab of steel up so they could pass through.
This next area looked to be the central chamber for the tunnels. Steel catwalks criss-crossed across the giant room, winding between giant pieces of machinery that descended all the way down into the sewage below. These had to be the bilge pumps.
Raphael set straight to work, running about the place to see what the saboteur had done to disable the great pumps. He would occasionally ask for Mikey's help with something, but was met each time with silence and a sharp glare. He got his help, but nothing more. Even with the reluctant assistance it wasn't long before the pumps roared to life. The putrid water lowered quickly, clearing the way below for them to move forward.
"That's it. Everything's in proper working order now. We just have to restart the engines and we'll have you back home in no time at all." Raphael announced with a fair degree of accomplishment in his voice. He got a less-than-enthused grunt in reply, Mikey merely glaring off to the side, refusing to look at him. Raphael let out a sigh, but continued down the path. He knew enough not to fight that particular losing battle any longer.
The path to the engine room was thankfully shorter than the one they'd taken to get to the sewers, since they'd finally reached a part of the facility that was meant for regular travel. Michelangelo trailed behind as they navigated the dark corridors leading to the engine, glaring at the back of Raphael's dusty bowler the entire way. If the turtles of this world had willingly used Leatherhead in their experiments, what else had they done?
He couldn't help but think back to the Manpigs, who'd chased them as ferociously as the gator had. Were they really just that mindlessly violent, or had they been hunting the two of them specifically? Did they perhaps recognize their faces? Could they have wanted revenge on the ones who'd turned them into such grotesque creatures?
Mikey's fists balled up at his sides once more as he glared daggers at his terrapin escort. Was he lying about the Manpigs' mutation being accidental? If so, what else was he lying about? Could he trust him at all anymore, even to send him home again?
Suddenly, Raphael came to a stop in front of what looked like a large circular cage. He pulled back the sliding bar door, opening up a lift platform large enough for two, maybe three people to occupy at once. Raphael entered first, standing by a small lever in the lift wall as he waited for the other turtle to join him.
Michelangelo stared at the platform for a long moment, giving a reluctant groan. He remembered what elevators in this world were like, and based on previous experiences he already knew he was not a fan. Slowly, and with considerable hesitation, he inched his way onto the platform, keeping a tight hold of the bars surrounding him just in case the floor decided to drop out from under them. Once Mikey was aboard, Raphael threw the switch and the lift began its decent downward.
For a long while all Mikey could see was the sheet metal covering the walls of the elevator shaft, same as before. This lift seemed quite a bit sturdier than the dumbwaiter from before, but that offered little comfort. He clung to the bars the whole way down. Then, rather abruptly, the view outside the lift changed. They suddenly found themselves in a huge chamber that had to be as wide as several city blocks, pipes and catwalks winding across like floating highways. The vastness of the chamber almost seemed small when compared to the gigantic machine fixed in the center.
It had to have been ten stories tall at least, with pipes that descended infinitely downward from its lowest sections. There wasn't a single word that could quite describe it, with copper and steel winding about it like mechanical veins, vents and panels giving the thing an almost organic texture from afar. It was like it was a living, breathing creature. Mikey stared up at it in awe, having never seen anything like it, even forgetting to cling to the bars of the lift as it came to a stop at the base of the great engine.
The door opened and Raphael stepped out of the lift, the sound of his boots against the metal catwalks ringing throughout the vast chamber. Mikey jogged a bit to catch up with him, though he still kept the other turtle at arms length. As they made their way towards the Goliath of metal rising above them, several spotlights around the chamber clicked on. The light did little across such a huge space, but it did offer a slightly better look of the surroundings. He could see every last bolt, every last rivet and weld seam on the surface of the towering engine. Michelangelo suddenly felt rather cold, shuddering at the sight of this titan of copper and steam.
'My son...'
Mikey went from feeling cold to frozen solid in an instant. That voice... He couldn't tell if it was a distant whisper echoing through the chamber or if it was a voice in his head. Either way, he knew to whom it belonged.
"M-Master Splinter..?" he asked softly, turning to look behind him. He was greeted by nothing but the dimly lit catwalk behind him. He looked around at the other catwalks, but no one was there. Was he really just imagining it?
"Michelangelo, please hurry up. I need you with me to activate the engines." Raphael called out from one of the catwalks just above him. Mikey let out a sigh, taking one last look around before hurrying up the staircase.
Raphael lead the way to the control room, which was located about halfway up the far cavern wall. It was small compared to the vast machine it looked over, only big enough for about five or six people to stand in without feeling cramped. There was a large control board at the front of the room, next to which was a large hexagonal window reminiscent of a certain moon-sized space station from Star Wars.
"This will only take a moment." Raphael began, stepping forward once they were inside and grabbing hold of one of the large levers mounted in the floor just in front of what Mikey could only refer to as the Death Star window. The British turtle pulled the lever back. There was a loud clank sound. Mikey looked around to see large blast doors slowly sliding into place to seal the two entrance-ways. The young ninja swallowed hard, suddenly feeling trapped in this small space. But he didn't have to worry, right? He was about to go home, wasn't he?
Raphael hit a few buttons on the control panel, threw a few switches, and soon enough a circular panel slid open in the center of the board, revealing a dark hole just a few inches across.
"I'm going to have to ask you to place your hand in here." he stated, earning an expected look of utter confusion from the other turtle. He sighed, placing his own hand inside to demonstrate that it was safe. A moment later, a red light came on above the opening, letting off an unhappy buzz. He removed his hand, the buzzer silencing once more.
"My brother - your alternate - was a rather paranoid man. He trusted no one, not even us at times. He designed and built everything you see here, and took great pride in it all. As such, he made it so his hand alone acted as the key to start the great engines."
"So that's why ya need me?" Mikey asked, staring down at his hand. Would it really work? Sure, he and his alternate were technically the same person, but they'd lived vastly different lives. His alternate was a scientist, his hands used to working with machines and laboratory equipment. Mikey was a ninja, his hands honed for combat and scarred by battle. Was he even close enough to his other self for his hand to work if this world's Raphael couldn't activate the machine?
Michelangelo stepped forward, slowly sticking his hand down into the opening in the control panel. It felt like slipping his hand into a metallic glove tailored specifically for him. He could feel tiny little pistons pressing against his palm, measuring every inch of his hand against a pattern ingrained into the machine's very being. After a long, tense moment, the light on the panel lit up once more. This time, it was green.
"H-hey, it worked!" Mikey cheered as the rest of the control panel came to life, green lights across the board signaling that everything was in order and ready to go. Raphael let a triumphant smile spread across his lips, stepping forward to make the necessary adjustments to the control panel.
Mikey pulled his hand out of the panel once he was given the okay, and soon took to staring out the large window overlooking the engine. He could hear massive gears begin to churn and mesh behind the walls, feel the rumbling all around him as steam rushed throughout the intricate, winding system of copper pipes. If this machine really was alive, then they'd just restarted its heart.
Then, he heard it. That voice from before. It echoed throughout his head, ringing in his heart and shaking him to the very core. A voice he dared not believe was real, but couldn't deny any longer.
'I live! I breathe again! I rise... I will rise to bleach the sky and still the water! I will spin the world wheel and set the future upon the path to redemption!'
Mikey's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide as he realized what that voice was. It was the Machine itself, speaking directly into his very soul. He felt cold, his stomach turning inside him. The voice this monstrosity of steel used... It was the voice of Hamato Yoshi.
"N-no..." he choked out, taking a shaky step back from the window as he covered his ears with his hands. The Machine continued in his head as if to prove its will could not be ignored.
'My time is come! More pig! More pig!'
Before Mikey could do anything more, he suddenly felt an arm wrap around his neck, his attacker's other hand forcing a cloth over his mouth and nose. He held his breath reflexively, just as his Master had taught him, but not in time to avoid getting a strong whiff of something that smelled vaguely of bleach. He'd trained with the stuff before. It was chloroform.
"I thank you for your assistance, but I'm afraid your services are no longer required. In fact, you've become something of a liability, and we simply can't have that." came Raphael's voice in his ear. Mikey struggled as much as he could, but he was already getting sluggish, his mind growing cloudy and his vision fading. He'd breathed in too much of the chloroform in the cloth. He couldn't remain conscious for more than a few seconds longer.
"No hard feelings, dear 'brother'... It's just good business."