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Chapter 06
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Raphael sat on the rooftop. The moon shone ominously through a cloud canopy above. A light breeze brought the smells of the city. When Leo had first suggested they come here, he'd only protested a little; it still felt like a waste of time, but he just didn't have it in him to argue. Besides, their efforts so far had been fruitless, three goddamn weeks were gone and still no sign of his missing brothers. At this point, he was willing to try anything.
He felt dangerously calm. His senses were sharp. He was ready.
He closed his eyes and remembered.
As the image of the fight bled into view, his other senses became acute. Soon he could hear the sounds of battle, smell the blood. Reliving it in its entirety, this ethereal state allowed him more awareness; during the actual fight he'd been too distracted to see everything. Regardless, he thought he already knew when things began to go south.
Seeing it again now only reinforced his opinion – no doubt about it, it was those damned naginata warriors that had fucked everything up.
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The new wave of Foot soldiers were keeping them all pretty busy, but the battle was still looking in their favor. Raphael heard Leo shout 'We got company!', and turned just in time to see them run in the direction of Mike and Don. Two lithe warriors, armed with long-bladed staves. They were heavily armored. Better get over there and give 'em a hand, Raphael thought.
Donatello, being one wielding a primarily non-lethal weapon (and doing so in his usual non-lethal way), was making excellent use of it nonetheless. Like a green ballerina, he twirled and leaped effortlessly, the bo a perfect extension of his body. Bones crunched and smashed, as living but fully incapacitated Foot soldiers lay writhing in agony around him. Though always careful to use a certain amount of restraint, he was usually able to take down his foes quickly without using lethal force. He glanced over at Michelangelo, who seemed to be faring just as well. Leo and Raph were farther away, but they were also doing fine as far as he could tell.
"Mike! Don! You guys alright over there?" Leo shouted out.
"Dude, couldn't be better!" Mike carelessly tossed a screaming Foot soldier off of the roof.
But that was about to change. Mike saw the two elite warriors leap onto the roof, more foot grunts following behind them. They were carrying naginatas, long staves similar to Donatello's bo, only these were topped with sharp blades. Nice, he thought, grinning wide, this should be fun. So far the grunts hadn't put up too much of a challenge, it would be nice to get a real workout. One of these warriors moved in to engage Mike in combat.
The naginata warrior wasted no time. The blade swept closely over his head as Michelangelo ducked and rolled to one side, throwing out a kick but missing. The warrior twirled around and swept the weapon around again, narrowly missing Michelangelo by a hair. Whew, that was close. He barely had time to defend against the next swipe. So fast! Okay, so, gonna have to get a little more serious here…
Donatello was still swarmed with several Foot when the naginata arrived. One of the warriors approached him slowly, calculatingly. After pushing back several grunts, Don took a tentative step backwards and entered a defensive stance. The armor and weapons on these newcomers were of a superior craftsmanship; not something that would be wasted on any run-of-the-mill Foot soldier. He's obviously more skilled than the others… better not let my guard down.
But there wasn't time to think beyond that. Like lightning the naginata warrior flew at him, barely giving him time to sidestep the blade. Surprised, but seeing an opportunity, Donatello moved in for an attack. Just as his bo staff was about to connect, something struck the back of his shell. Instinctively, he rolled and looked up to see more Foot soldiers coming from behind. Changing positions, he dodged another throwing star coming from the direction of the grunts. They were moving in. Uh-oh, not good.
The naginata brought the polearm down fast. Donatello blocked in the nick of time, landing a solid kick to his enemy's knee. But it did little to sway the warrior, to his dismay. Though the warrior's face was mostly obscured by a mask, Donatello looked into his enemy's eyes. A flurry of attacks shot out towards him; it took Don's full attention to evade each one. He could feel the newest wave of grunts closing in behind him, but the intensity of this new warrior was making it impossible to turn his attention towards any other foe.
He knew he was in trouble.
Before he could call out to his brothers for aid, Donatello was hit from behind. The kick knocked him off balance and he fell to the ground. Without hesitation, the blade of the pole arm buried itself deep into his shoulder.
He screamed, more a sound of shock than pain. The other three turtles whirled around to the direction of his voice, fear gripping all three.
"Donatello!" Leo shouted. He exchanged a look with Raphael. "Hold on Don, we're coming!"
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