Leo and his katana move as one, fluid and untouchable as the wind and devastating as a hurricane. A krang fires at his head, and he ducks. His sword slices dead center; the krang screeches as it's body is destroyed.
Donnie watches as Leo doesn't duck in time, the blast catching him in the head, turning it into a melted, caved in hulk of bone and charred flesh.
The krang manages one more shot as it's severed body falls to the ground and Leo dodges, slicing away the arms and impaling the metalic head in one smooth motion.
Donnie watches as Leo doesn't notice the blast, catching him in the back of the neck, splintering the unprotected spine and splitting the burnt skin like silly putty stretched too thin.
Leo dances away and begins again.
Raph is an earthquake. Unstoppable and rampantly destructive. He's having fun. There is little beauty in what he does, only the abstract art of wanton destruction.
He launches himself into two droids at once, his sai burying themselves in the bodies of two more krang. They spasm and spark and stop moving.
Donnie watches Raph misjudge his timing; one krang has enough time to turn it's gun to his head and FIRE -
Mikey is a whirlpool, cheer deceptive as still waters while sucking anything that comes near him into his inescapable blur of destruction. He moves almost too fast to track, leaping and flying, kusarigama flickering in and out like the tentacles of some great Kraken, twisting-crushing-tearing as his manic laughter leaps from one shadow to the blinding fluorescent lights.
Donnie watches him leave himself open to a hail of fire, watches him fall from the ceiling and land on his neck. Donnie watches Mikey flitter his way into a corner, watches him taken by surprise, watches him misjudge his landing, loose his footing, have his nunchucks yanked away, stuck in metal scrap and leaving him vulnerable-
*SCRATK*
"Keep your head in the game, would you, Donnie?"
Don nods, mute, at Raph's admonishment, and watches Raph fail to turn around in time to deflect a shot at his head. The translucent Raphael falls to the ground, and Donnie can almost feel the blood seep between his toes, into the wrappings on his feet…
"Are you alright?" Leo is worried. Don needs to focus. He manages a smile, deflecting shot after shot with his staff.
"Fine, Leo. Just got a lot on my mind."
"Well if you could try to live in the present, that would be great."
Real-Leo was stepping in Not-Mikey's stomach and it was very distracting.
Don nods because there's no other real response available and tries to avoid the phantom corpses littering the floor to run to Mikey's side. Mikey considers even a fight against the krang viable as brotherly bonding time. Since it seems like fighting the krang is something they do every other day, this is probably just as well.
Donnie slowly unwound the bindings from his foot.
"How come you're such a germaphobe, Don? You do this every time."
"Well, Raph, some of us like being clean. Unlike certain other turtles I could mention."
Raph scoffed, as Don tossed the clean wrappings stubbornly soaked in phantom blood into the garbage.
Zanaran hadn't been the beginning of the visions and phantoms, of his brilliant mind finding everything that could go wrong and seeing it even as his brothers lived in front of him… but she had made things a thousand times worse.