New York City

Eastman's Scrap and Salvage was quiet, save for the odd small animal scuttling through the piles of junk and metal. Then a series of loud thumps echoed by the fence, four stocky figures making their way through the yard. They carried a large object with them, wrapped in a layer of cloth, which they placed behind a pile of wrecked cars.

One of them struck a match, tossing it onto the object. As flames began to consume the object, the fire's light showed the figures to be humanoid turtles. The one who struck the match was a spotted turtle with a blue mask around his eyes. Alongside him was a diamondback terrapin who wore a purple mask and goggles, a yellow-bellied slider with an orange mask, and an alligator snapping turtle with a red durag.

"We stand here to pay our respects to Splinter," the blue turtle began, voice wavering as he spoke. "He was our teacher, our guardian, our father. Whatever we accomplish in life is only thanks to his custodianship. The Hamato Clan won't be the same without you."

The purple and orange turtles hummed in agreement, the red one simply nodding.

Blue walked away, the other three standing around a little longer before they too joined their brother in retreating into the rising sun. As they walked away, they failed to notice a figure watching from the edge of the fence. They watched the quartet until they were outside of sight, then departed themself.

It wasn't easy coming back to the lair after the funeral, but the turtles still came back. So many of Splinter's belongings in the foyer were left exactly where he had last left them, his magazines remained undisturbed next to his burgundy recliner, neither of which had been touched since his passing.

"I'll look through his stuff," announced Donatello, heading for the deceased's quarters. "We'll have to decide what to keep and what to toss."

"Mikey, go help him," ordered Leonardo, the terrapin following his brother. He briefly heard them discussing if Splinter had a will-or if he would even count as a legally binding document-before they shut the door behind him.

"We're keeping his chair," remarked Raphael, patting the recliner. "It's a real sturdy chair, not too bad."

"Don't touch it," snapped Leonardo, brow furrowing.

"It's just a chair," the larger turtle retorted. "He only got it because it was easiest to pull out of the dump-"

"And I said not to touch it! You think just because Splinter's gone, you can say whatever you want about him. Well I'm not going to stand by and let you smear his name right after his funeral."

"I ain't smearing his name, I'm stating facts! You were always his favorite, but now he isn't around to praise you for wiping after you-"

Whatever he had to say next was cut off as the blue turtle slammed a fist into his face, making him step back. Huffing, Raphael quickly retaliated, slamming his brother to the ground. Leonardo swung his legs upward, knocking the larger turtle off balance, then shoved him away. The two continued brawling, disturbing most of the furniture, until they heard the splintering of wood and tearing upholstery.

A glance confirmed what they already suspected. In their fighting, the chair had been destroyed. Leonardo's jaw went slack, while the anger on Raphael's face slipped away as he realized what he had done.

"I'm going topside," he said at last, marching towards the exit. "I'll be back later."

"What do you mean later?" demanded Leonardo. "You're not leaving!"

"Oh yeah? Watch me." And with that, the snapping turtle vanished.

April O'Neil thought she'd be crying more. Looking at her dad, he could hardly hold back tears. Regardless, she kept respectfully silent as her grandfather was lowered into the ground. Robert O'Neil had turned 87 just a few days ago, and seemed relatively healthy. And then he took a bad spill down the stairs, and here they were.

The funeral service had finished around 10:30, and the two had elected to walk home afterwards. From a stranger's perspective, they didn't look too similar, only sharing brown eyes; while April's black hair was done in a neat ponytail, her dad Jack's hair was red and curly.

"Mendelsohn's Pizza should be open right about now," said Jack. "Wanna stop by there?"

"Sure," replied April, although she couldn't bring herself to think of food at a time like this.

As they walked down the sidewalk, someone in a trench coat and hoodie accidentally brushed against Jack's side. "Sorry," they gruffed out.

"You're alright,"answered Jack, before sticking a hand in his jacket pocket. "Hey, he took my wallet!"

At this declaration, the figure ran away, April deciding to give chase. She hurried after the stranger, following him into an alleyway. She skidded to a stop when the stranger did, pulling his hood down to show his face. This thief wasn't human, his face looking like some sort of brown cat with an eyepatch.

"You seem lost, little girl," he observed. "Did anyone ever tell you not to run into alleyways?"

"April!" shouted Jack, skidding into the alleyway. He was briefly shocked by the appearance of the cat man, but quickly took his daughter's hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

They were prevented from leaving the alleyway as a giant chameleon suddenly appeared from the wall and blocked the exit. A humanoid raccoon landed on a nearby dumpster, a baseball bat in her hands.

"Well, well, what a find," said the chameleon. "Two lost humans. Recognize 'em, Thrift?"

"Yeah, they ring a bell alright," replied the raccoon, pointing her bat at Jack. "The tall one threw a brick at me because I was starving."

April's dad held up his hands in a show of peace, but the cat-the apparent leader of the group-simply shrugged. "Maybe next time, you should pick on someone your own size."

"Great advice, Hob."

The trio of crooks glanced up as a fourth creature joined them. This one was a giant turtle, with what looked like some kind of forks on his belt. The body language of the other three suggested he wasn't with them.

"Raphael," began the cat. "I saw you leaving the junkyard earlier. I take it Splinter passed?"

The turtle simply nodded, his posture becoming a bit more tense. "Yeah. Donnie says a wound from the Foot Clan finally got him in his sleep."

The cat crossed his arms. "That's to be expected when dealing with humans, they always ruin things in the end."

"Weren't you saying something about picking on people your own size?" asked Raphael.

The cat, Hob, looked at a document in the stolen wallet. "Does the name Jack O'Neil mean anything to you, Raphael?"

"No, should it?"

"What it means is you can run along and leave us to our business."

The trio of creatures turned back to the helpless duo, until the chameleon was suddenly body slammed by Raphael. The two fought, until the turtle spotted the raccoon, Thrift, approaching the O'Neils. Shoving the chameleon aside, he took three blows from her bat without flinching, then when she tried using her hands instead, he blocked them with his own. He picked Thrift up and tossed her at the wall, colliding with the cloaked chameleon.

He froze as Hob pulled a pistol from his coat, holding it towards Jack. "Stay out of this, Raphael. I can pull this trigger faster than the time it takes you to reach me."

Raphael huffed, glaring daggers at the cat. April glanced anxiously between the two creatures, when the turtle suddenly tossed something from his belt, which knocked the gun from Hob's hand. Pulling the forks from his belt, he then charged the cat, who produced a combat knife to block the attack.

"That's new," remarked Raphael, pushing forward.

"For all of humanity's faults, they know how to make weapons," huffed Hob, managing to keep himself from getting shoved back.

With a grunt of effort, he got free of the blade lock, clashing his knife against Raphael's forks. Despite the turtle's much larger size and strength, Hob was able to hold his own, managing to slip past Raphael's own weapons and shove him into the wall. April noticed the chameleon and raccoon getting back up, reaching for her father's hand and holding it tight.

They were brought back down again by the arrival of another turtle, much smaller than the other one with a blue bandanna. He carried a katana in his hands, with another strapped to his back. He pulled the second katana from its sheath to point at Hob, the other still aimed at the other two.

"Get lost, Hob. We've had a trying day."

"So I've heard," remarked Hob. Despite outnumbering the turtles 3-2, he still picked up his underlings and prepared to leave. "Let the man tell you who he is, and you'll give him to me willingly. Cam, Thrift, we're leaving."

"What, you think we're letting you go like that?"

Hob held up two silver balls, Raphael's reaction indicating he took them from his belt. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He tossed the balls down, sending an obstructive cloud of smoke into the air. By the time it settled, the three creatures had vanished, leaving April and her dad alone with the turtles.

"Somehow, I always need to get you out of these situations," the other turtle scoffed.

"Leo, I had everything under control," Raphael seethed, clenching his fists as "Leo" walked over.

"I'm sure you did." Leo then turned to the humans, noticing them for the first time. "I guess we'll have to deal with them as well."

Raph was fine. He was hoping to get some fresh air, do a few flips to work off his anger, then talk with Leo once his head was cleared up. Instead he got into a fight with Hob and his gang, and now they had to bring two humans into the lair.

So all in all, he was completely a-okay.

As they came back to the lair, Donnie and Mikey were still sorting through Splinter's stuff, having brought a box of it into the foyer by the time they came back. The girl seemed surprised by their presence, and they sure looked shocked to see humans in their home.

"Whatcha got there?" asked Mikey, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"Hob was going after these two," explained Raph, going into detail about the encounter.

"Hob doesn't exactly attack random humans," said Donnie, pulling down his goggles to scan the two. "Hmm… yep. Jack O'Neil, Baxtech receptionist for seven years."

"What's so special about Baxtech?" asked the girl.

"It's where we were made," answered Leo bluntly.

"Don't be too hard on him, we've had a pretty bad day," Mikey told the humans. He then smiled and shook the girl's hand. "I'm Mikey, by the way. You've met Leo and Raph, and that one there is my baby bro Donnie."

"You're only older than me by a few seconds," Donnie huffed, and Raph would have shown some younger sib solidarity if there weren't strangers in the lair.

"April," the girl replied, smiling at Mikey. At least she was taking things well. "So, you guys were made at Baxtech? How does that work?"

Raph looked at Leo, wordlessly telling their fearless leader to explain. The spotted turtle sighed and sat down on the couch. "We don't know everything, but here's what we do know…"

Before any of us were born, there was a man named Hamato Yoshi. He was found as an orphan by a group called the Foot Clan, and raised with their leader's son, Oroku Saki. As the birth child, Saki received more special treatment than Yoshi, including eventual leadership of the Foot Clan.

But despite all he was given through genetics, Yoshi got something no money could buy-a lover, Tang Shen. Saki could never win her affection, but Yoshi did, and the results were… violent.

Yoshi fled to New York, knowing he'd be punished for what he'd done, and took up a job with Baxtech, eventually ending up working in the labs. One of his jobs was caring for animals that would be used for experiments.

One of those days would be when… it happened.

Baxtech Lab, fifteen years ago

Hamato Yoshi checked the cages of the six animals, making sure they had enough food and water. The rat didn't seem to be doing too well, hopefully it was something recoverable and not anything life-threatening.

Suddenly, he was distracted by the sound of glass breaking, then the night security guard's voice rising as he got assaulted. Yoshi quickly grabbed a broom, feeling only slightly better with a weapon in his hands.

That feeling went away as the doors to the lab burst open, a giant metal figure stepping through. They were covered in armor that resembled an ancient samurai, but covered in sharp edges. Despite the all-encompassing armor, he could feel something familiar about this stranger.

The feeling was confirmed when she spoke. "So this is where you were hiding, Hamato."

He blinked, taking a cautious step forward. "Karai?"

The now-identified Karai responded by extending a pair of sharp blades from each gauntlet. "You took my father from me, now you will join him," she snarled. "Slain at the hands of the Shredder."

Yoshi held up the broom as Karai-the Shredder-ran towards him, arms raised and ready to slash through him.