Chapter Text
It was an ambush.
“Guys, they’re hot on our tail!” Commander O’Neil’s voice through the comms was filled with static as she shouted. Her panic shattered by the echoing sounds of snarling horrors far too close for comfort.
He clenched his fist, staring at the monitor with gritted teeth. They weren’t supposed to be attacked. Not like this! The nearest patrol had been a full day away. Logically he knew that the Krang were just as smart as they were, knew that it hadn’t been out of the realm of possibility they missed something when planning this supply run. But he’d spent months analyzing this plan for inconsistencies and he didn’t know how the enemy managed to get this close without their scouts noticing.
“Sensei…” He turned to his charge; Casey’s face twisted with fear. The young man was gripping the desk tightly, knuckles so white it looked painful. He wished he could say that Casey shouldn’t have been here, but no one had any more right to be at his side right now. He’d more than proved himself. “She’s going to make it, right? They have to make it.” It should have been a routine retrieval for them!
Nothing about this damn invasion has ever been ‘routine’, had it?
“They will if I have anything to say about it.” He decided firmly. As if his choice would ever be anything else. Pushing away from the makeshift desk, he grabbed his sword from the wall and turned to Casey. “Listen to me. You need to stay here and guard the door.”
“But….”
“No buts, the supply squad doesn’t have time for you to argue with me.”
Casey wilted a little, but squared his shoulders a moment later, determined. “Sir.”
“That’a boy. Get a message through to Mikey, let him know what’s going on. Hopefully he can drum up some air support.” He grabbed a spare first aid kit and attached it to his belt and then moved to the door. Hesitating just before the hall, he turned and fixed his kid with a firm look. Casey wasn’t going to like this next bit. “And if we don’t make it in time, blow the tunnel.” He didn’t give Casey time to object, breaking into a run towards the ladder leading up and out. He heard Casey shout behind him, to get him to wait just a moment, but he couldn’t afford to argue his case. April’s team needed backup now .
Casey must have realized that, because his comm didn’t light up on his wrist. He was glad for it. Worst case scenarios were just a part of life for them, after all. Every resistance fighter needed to be prepared to do what was necessary for the survivors as a whole. Emotions be damned.
He said to himself as he put himself directly into the line of fire for his family. Again.
The trip to the surface was longer than he’d like, climbing the ladder to the caves before running through twisting, maze-like tunnels as fast as he dared in the dark. Once he burst out onto the surface, red haze temporarily blinding him, he pushed himself into a full on sprint, using ninpo to give his feet an extra boost with each step. The land around him was littered with debris and fallen monuments, with old mechs and thousands of pits and falls to trip him up if he weren’t careful, but it was also familiar in a haunting way. He’d run this ground over and over again, chasing leads and running supplies. Ran circles around packs of Krang dogs, fighting and bleeding onto every stone. His story was tattooed into the Earth. He could never be afraid in this place.
It took several agonizing minutes to reach the sound of combat. He crested over the remains of a hollowed out office rise, and reached up to activate his visor. It slotted into place with a whisper and the display lit up before him. The supply team was still running, having abandoned the truck they’d been trying to move through the warzone. He could see a small group of figures, their tags lighting up on his display as the tech recognized their individual signals. Four people. Only four from a group of twelve . The loss bit into his chest but he let it wash over him. One of the survivors was his Commander, too stubborn to fall even against these odds.
The Krang were swarming after them, a whole pack of dogs and twisted spiders that crawled over debris like insects. They must not have been part of the initial ambush, if April had this much of a lead on them. What was behind those, however, made his blood run cold when he scanned the horizon. A dozen mechs were lifting from the ruins of New York, red gleaming eyes turning in his direction. They couldn’t see him this far away, but for a moment he still felt pinned in place. How had he missed so many? Were they waiting this whole time just outside of his patrol range?
Did the Krang hack into his systems?
Fear wasn’t going to help them, he told himself, gritting his teeth and shifting his legs. He gathered ninpo under his feet, letting the mystic energy launch him across the landscape. They all had a very narrow window of escape now.
He could finally see April himself half a mile later as he leapt off a cliff, and he pressed his comm unit as he let gravity take over. “Heads up!” They had ducked through a pass to prevent themselves from being flanked and losing their route. It gave him the perfect opportunity to intervene.
Commander O’Neil didn’t even bother looking at him. She dug in her heels and twisted her body on command, a titanium bo staff clutched tightly in both hands. Swinging wildly back towards their pursuers, she angled to hit his feet as he came down, and for a moment he was able to meet her eyes and smirk. The relief on her face was visible through the grime.
Time caught up to him as the momentum launched him into the fray, and he pulled his sword in a deadly arc that sliced through one Krang dog and into the face of another that wasn’t able to dodge. He kicked off the ground to leap over the blood spray, twisting his hand around the grip and forcing his blade deeper. The second Krang howled in pain and collapsed under him. He didn’t slow, feeling the press of a spider looming off the nearest wall. He tucked himself into a ball, a spindly leg sweeping over his head, and hit the ground rolling. His shell took the brunt of the damage, and in seconds he was back on his feet. He kicked back, catching his blade on his heel, and kicking it up into a second leg, severing it entirely. Another chorus of howls erupted around him, and his tympana rang with it.
Time blurred together as he whirled through the battlefield, blade singing one direction and then the next with inhuman precision. His mind empty of anything but his next move, eyes shifting back and forth with practiced motion to catch the next attack, next charge, next press of infection trying to pin him down. It was a comfortable dance, these days, and he reveled in the silence inside his head.
Finally there was a breath of space as the crush of Krang eased around him, and he took the moment to glance back. The four survivors had nearly made it through the pass, but the swarm had gone over the cliffside to avoid him. He cursed. He should have kept pace with them, but there were so many creatures. Slashing the blood off of his sword, he gave chase and threw himself back into the fray as April called his name. It didn’t take him long to realize they were fighting a losing battle.
Reaching his sister, he shared a look before turning to press his shell against her back. How long had they taken just to get here after he arrived? Ten minutes? Twenty? How far back were the mechs? They haven’t appeared over the ridges yet, but they weren’t slow by any stretch of the imagination. Could they make it another mile before the Krang surrounded them? Could they make it to the gate? Could they all make it through without something following them? They were nearly surrounded now. How long would it take them to reach the cave?
April’s shoulders slumped in his peripheral vision as he glanced up at the red sky. They didn’t even need to speak to come to the same conclusion. The Krang were too close to risk the Hidden City. They weren’t going to make it.
“You shouldn’t have come out here,” she admitted quietly. An apology and gratitude all in the same breath.
“I wasn’t going to leave you to face them alone,” he countered with a smirk. “What kind of leader would I be?”
Another survivor, Lora, barked out a humorless laugh. “What kind of leader dies in a shitty ambush?” There was no bite to her words. He could see her face hardened with resolve.
“Who says we’re going to die?” Dajeth countered, his ears folded back against his skull. “I’m rather attached to life, you know.”
April huffed, smashing her bo into the face of a spider and pressing a button to turn the end of the weapon into a spinning blade. “He’s got a point, you know. I think there’s still an access tunnel nearby we could duck into. If we lose the peanut gallery long enough they won’t know where we went.”
“We’d have to dig our way back out if we want to run for the next door.”
“We’ve pulled off worse.”
He cut down a spider with two hands on his sword and squared his shoulders with another sharp grin. “Sounds like a plan. Beck, get us up to the ridge,” he ordered, pointing up.
Their last companion snorted through her leathery nose, reaching around to grab Dajeth in one, large hand. He squeaked, but any complaint he might have had was lost as she whirled in a circle and threw him up the cliffside past the swarm. She didn’t wait to see if he made it, barrelling down on Lora who managed a meek ‘oh no’ before she was similarly launched into the sky.
He turned towards the swarm as April took her turn, jumping up onto Beck’s hand and releasing a whoop as she joined their companions. The Krang seemed to realize their prey was escaping, and with a howl they rushed in. He moved on autopilot, covering Beck’s retreat. “Go! I’ll catch up to you!” He could feel her gaze on his shell, pausing just a little too long as if doubting he would follow through. As if he was going to sacrifice himself to cannon fodder. Please . “Trust me.”
Beck patted the top of his head, pushing him down under a dog that had leapt from the side, and chuffed. “We’ve made it this far, boss. You better not fall behind.” She turned away and hunkered down, charging toward the end of the pass so she could catch up with the others. Her charge thundered with every step, shoulder tilted to knock away any Krang that foolishly tried to step in her way.
“It’s like she doesn’t even know me,” he chuckled dryly. Despite their light tone, he knew the odds. He’d run the numbers. They were running on borrowed time.
The Krang were smart. Half of the group didn’t even bother fighting him, believing the other survivors to be easier targets. More yet were scared, he could see it in the way they hesitated before approaching him. Good. The circle of corpses growing around his feet spoke for itself. It was a morbid sort of joy, he thought. But he reveled in it all the same.
It was the Commander who broke him out of the trance of death, voice echoing off the cliffs around him. “Incoming!” A whistle pierced the air next, and he flipped back away from the swarm. He almost didn’t clear the area in time, grabbing an outcropping of stone and hauling himself up as a missile spiraled into the mess he’d left. The heat of the explosion scorched his toes, but he ignored the pain as he dug into the cliff and climbed. April fired off another rocket as he cleared the top, staff braced on her shoulder, and the swarm howled below. He watched her across the gap and offered a thumbs up when she checked to see if he made it.
“Sensei!” His comm crackled to life. “I can see you guys now, you need to move! You’ve got three Walkers approaching your position.”
“Three?!” He whirled around, searching for the line of mechs he’d noted earlier. Sure enough, three large Walkers were almost within firing range, spread out to cover the pass and both cliffs looking down on it. As he watched, one of them shifted in his direction, and his blood ran cold. He’d been spotted. “Shit! Casey, I need you to listen to me! We’re not going to make the cave. Blow the tunnel!”
“What? No, Sensei, just hold out a little longer, please. Master Michelangelo—“
He hissed between his teeth, signing across the pass for the others to run. April scowled at him, but he signed again, sharper. “Blow the tunnel, Jones!” Finally he saw the others nod firmly, and they turned tail and ran. It didn’t seem like the other Walkers had seen them yet. If they could make the old access tunnels, they had a chance. Maybe Mikey would find them first. He couldn’t afford maybes.
Where were the other mechs?
Most of the Krang’s mechanical nightmares were large enough that it was impossible to miss them. Between the angular Walkers and the ships that ferried their mutated army from battlefield to battlefield, they usually made enough noise to give the resistance some warning before they were overrun. He scanned the horizon frantically. There! Just visible over the tilted debris of an old, rust-eaten skyscraper. It moved slowly, but steadily, back the way he’d come.
He brought his comm up to his mouth but before he could warn Casey the Walker behind him screamed. The sound burst through his tympana and it was only reflex that saved him from a burning line of fire that ate the ground where he’d been standing just a second before. He rolled ungracefully, landing on his face. His head was ringing, and as the air rushed back into his lungs he finally felt it. The ground was rumbling. Move ! he signed to the air, his teeth stuck together as his voice locked up around the word. He slapped the ground with both hands and forced himself to his feet.
His comm blinked, but he couldn’t hear whoever was trying to hail him. He couldn’t speak. The blood rushing through his head was so thick, pumping rapidly in time with his heart. Move !.
He lost track of time as he ran, ducking into the ruins of a hundred battlefields to lose the Walkers on his tail. Their beams blazed trails through the stone around him, one even searing his shell as he dropped through what used to be a window into a maze of twisting metal. He crashed painfully, reaching a hand back to check his shell, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it warm, but intact. A Walkers’ scream was shrill in the distance and he felt the world shake around him. They’d found resistance somewhere, but he couldn’t pinpoint where.
Move!
He dug himself out of what could have been an elevator shaft, or maybe a stairwell, and scrambled across a series of beams that once held walls. The building shook with massive footsteps as the mechs hunted for him. He slipped through a gap, letting himself fall down a room to a hole that faced the ground. Shards of glass cut into his palm as he gripped the edge and he fell again, though his landing this time was a little more controlled. He could hear his heart pounding through his skull.
Casey .
It took longer than he’d have liked to pull himself back to his feet. He wasn’t hurt. He knew ‘hurt’. This was far from it. So why did he feel so heavy? He could barely breathe. Could barely hear the world around him. The air felt thick.
Move move move!
His comm continued to blink. He managed to tap it, and tried to force something past the dust in his throat. Something crashed around him and the ground shook violently. He looked up to see the building shifting above his head, and managed to cuss before forcing his numb leg to work, dammit!
The world narrowed once again as he pushed himself, running at an angle to avoid chunks of metal and concrete as they began to fall. He cleared the building easily, finding himself on what was left of a road. A bright line of orange paint caught his eye not far from where he broke out, and he reoriented himself to face the design. It was hidden under a broken piece of stone, meant to only be visible from ground level, and he could have kissed his brother for insisting on marking their routes. He’d thought it dangerous at the time, but clearly Mikey knew something he didn’t.
His hearing was returning slowly, as he sprinted back towards the cave. Distant sounds of fighting–the hollow calls of Krang mechs and howls of their swarms reached him in bits and pieces. He thought he heard a voice, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The comm was still lit, connected to someone out there. Was it Casey? It could have been April, he’d lost track of them after the first attack. Hopefully they’d gotten clear.
Risking a look behind him, he saw two of the Walkers looming back where he’d started. The third nowhere to be found. Probably on his ass, he thought wryly. He was still under some cover, but that meant he couldn’t see anything lurking to his right either. Running out into the open might as well have been a death sentence, but there was no better way to reach Casey before they got to him.
Should’ve put down money on it, he sneered as his cover fell away behind him. It took only a few seconds for a Walker to spot him, shrieking in rage and crashing through the debris to get to him. He didn’t look back. Instead he pushed ninpo through his legs, moving recklessly now that he had a clear shot through the battlefield. The ground rose ahead of him, and he cleared the top of the hill in one jump. He could see the cave now, no more than a couple minutes away.
He could also see the Krang clustered around it. His blood ran cold again as he saw what had been waiting for them this whole time. It hadn’t been an ambush. It was an assault.
The other Walkers had spread themselves apart, spaced just far enough to cover the most ground without sabotaging each other. Two ships were planted on top of the ridge where their cave entrance was, and a massive swarm was clustered in front of it. The tunnel was still intact.
Casey!
It was stupid. He was so stupid. This was the worst idea of the century. What kind of idiot goes running headlong into an overwhelming force with no backup, no actual plan, and one fucking sword? But all he could think about was his kid trapped inside those caves, listening as death approached.
He reached the first line—the humanoid revenants weren’t even looking at him as his blade cut into their flesh. They weren’t looking for enemies from behind, so focused they were on the promise of prey ahead. He’d managed to cut down three before any of the others reacted. The cave was too far. He wasn’t going to make it.
There was a voice on his comm. He could almost make it out.
He tried to shout, he might have even managed it, when the world erupted around him.
Pain came back to him first, cresting like waves against his shell and burning through his plastron. He looked at it distantly, momentarily feeling like he was floating outside of it, and idly ran a diagnostic while he waited for everything else to hit him. Bruising, most likely severe. His good leg was twisted awkwardly, but not broken yet. The other felt loose, as if dangling in the open air. His thigh felt filled with static. Nerve damage? Unpleasant, but he could live with it for a while, even if Mikey was going to give him the sad eyes again once he found out. Wouldn’t have been the first time. His arms were similarly numb, hanging slightly forward. He must have been out of it for some time.
He could feel the air pressing in around him, thick with dust. His head was ringing like an alarm, and he could feel his breath run raggedly through his lungs. Reality was going to hit any moment, and there was one injury he didn’t want to face yet. Trying to take in a deeper breath was a mistake, he noted as his chest seized and he coughed sharply. The world rushed back in all at once and he couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out as his plastron lit up like fire.
Raising one hand, muscles shaking, he tried to wrap his fingers around a thick bar protruding from his abdomen. It didn’t feel like it had pierced anything important. His shell had done its job, but it didn’t knock him away from the metal spike entirely. It had slid into his bridge and punched through the front, trapping him on a narrow ledge.
Fuck, it hurt.
He felt around the injury carefully and wheezed as his chest spasmed again. He couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick. It pressed around him, constricting his ribs, thumping in time with his heartbeat.
“...en…ei!”
He whined low in his throat as the ledge trembled, jarring the rebar holding him up. His skin itched, he needed to move, needed to get away. They were coming, he remembered. The Krang were on top of them.
“Sens…!”
There was something in front of him. He pushed his arm out reflexively, trying to protect himself from the attack. But the hand that grabbed him was warm, not creeping and slimy. It made the itch recede just a little. Familiar callouses opened his fingers and pressed against his palm. They began to make shapes against his skin and it took him a terribly long time to recognize them.
S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E.
“There you go, Sensei, slowly. Can you hear me?”
Yes, he thinks, sound filtering through his senses at last. Not clearly, he must have damaged his hearing recently, but he could understand.
S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E. S. A. F. E.
He began to shake as he relaxed in stages. His mouth twisted in pain, and he tried to reply but all that came out was a pained rasp. His chest shuddered again.
“Nonono, you need to breathe. Come on, I know it hurts, but I need you to breathe.”
His hand was pulled until he was pressed to a firm plate. The ridges felt like their plastron, but he knew this armor. He’d made it. Casey. Where…when? How?
“That’s it, just like that. Follow me, okay?”
His breath rattled in his chest, catching in his throat and threatening another fit, but as he felt Casey’s chest rise and fall steadily, he found himself matching the pace. Casey was okay. That’s all he needed to know. The world could wait, his boy was alive.
It took several minutes before he could force his eyes open, staring blearily at the young man crouched in front of him. He could see Casey’s shoulders relax as he regained focus, and he began to pull his fractured awareness back in. His arms were regaining feeling the longer he was awake, his blood beginning to circulate again.
“Welcome back,” Casey said. His voice was light, and he smiled crookedly.
He almost laughed, remembering at the last second how bad that would be, and used his free hand to wave absently. Yeah yeah . He touched the tips of his fingers to his chin and pushed his hand out, palm up.
Casey squeezed his other hand and nodded sharply. “Of course. There’s no way I was going to leave you out here alone.” He turned his attention down to where the rebar protruded and his face turned grave again. “I need to get you off of this. Can you move?”
Great question. Bracing himself, he looked down at the injury and beyond, taking in their surroundings. Luckily it seemed he wasn’t actually that far off the ground. Just a few feet if he had to guess. He’d landed on his leg, but a short flex told him he could still move his toes. They were numb, but hopefully all he needed was time and some stretching. His other leg responded easily. He could tell immediately that it would be impossible to get that one under him for leverage, however. On the bright side, he’s certain his injury is going to be superficial. The bar felt like it was sitting just behind his plastron. Perfectly functional.
A voice inside his head called bullshit, but he shoved it away. It sounded suspiciously like his brother.
“...think…so.” With every second that passed he could feel his strength returning. “What…?”
“Happened?” Casey winced. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. You told me to blow the tunnel, but I couldn’t just leave you.”
He remembered. The Krang assault. The desperate attempt to reach the cave. The explosion. He frowned at Casey, hoping his expression said enough for him.
Casey’s grip tightened around his hand and his jaw twitched as he avoided his eyes.
“Master Michelangelo came through the gate and I followed him out, but we heard the ships approaching so he told me to run. I lost track of him after, but I saw you! I tried to get through to you, but there must have been interference.” Casey’s face was twisted with grief. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he admitted quietly. “There was an explosion, and I saw you get thrown. It took so long to find you, and you weren’t answering me.”
He twisted his hand out of Casey’s grip and cupped his kid’s face. “I’d be a pretty lousy leader if something like this took me out.” The joke fell flat, but he watched as the sorrow turned to determination. “Now let’s get me out of here. You’re going to have to cut me free first.”
Casey leaned closer to look over his shoulder, the ledge shifting under his weight. “I’d have to climb around, there’s no room, and I don’t know how long this ledge will hold. If it breaks while you're stuck the bar’s gonna rip through your plastron. Hold onto me, okay? I’m going to pull you.”
He clenched his teeth against another wave of pain from the motion and conceded the point. You’re not supposed to unplug a stab wound, but they were going to have to make do. “Do it,” he ordered before he could rethink it. He reached around Casey’s shoulders to grip his own wrists, drawing in a breath and bracing himself.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, how strong Casey was. He was malnourished and young, and was shorter than him by at least a foot, but he had always been relentless in his training, and proved more than once how capable he was when any of them needed the help. The only one of them he wasn’t able to practically carry had been Raph, and he could probably count on both hands the number of people who once claimed that feat of strength. Casey shifted his legs to support them on the ledge, and secured a grip on his shell, hands easily finding purchase on the spikes. Then, with a deep breath of his own, he yanked himself backwards, and suddenly they were falling.
A few feet felt like a few stories with the way the air punched out of his lungs. The ribs on the bar pulled and Casey couldn’t quite stop him from hitting the ground when they landed. He wheezed, letting go of the other man to clutch at his stomach. Blood was warm over his hands, but it was the cracks in the side of the hole that made him white out for a moment.
He came back to the world again on his back, Casey packing his injury with gauze. Gulping in a harsh breath, he tapped out a quick O. K. on Casey’s arm to check in. The kid glanced at his face but didn’t pause, grabbing plastic and medical tape to cover the patches. It wouldn’t hold, but they didn’t have the supplies to fix plastron injuries in the field. Casey then left him to recover as he cleaned up the mess, shoving the soiled cloth into a bio bag and rinsing his hands with a bottle of water.
Their comms were silent. The sky overhead was shifting in subtle degrees of orange and red. They were currently sheltered from hostile eyes, but he could hear mechs moving in the distance. It would take days to get through to the next gate back home. That’s if they managed to sneak past the hunters currently flooding the area. The Krang weren’t going to be satisfied until they saw their bodies. He hoped the others made it.
“Where’s my sword?” He sat up sharply, wincing at the pull, and shifted to push himself to his feet. His head swam with the motion, and Casey was instantly under his arm to take part of his weight. His legs felt like static. “Where–”
“Easy, Sensei. It has to be around here. The explosion didn’t throw you that far. We’ll find it.”
They had to. It was all he had left of him.
“Come on, let’s go before the Krang investigate the wreckage.”
Casey had to help him walk, each step a new agony that threatened to pitch him forward onto his face. He had to watch his feet, carefully angle each step so he didn’t trip over himself, but it made searching for his blade so much harder.
“Thank you,” he told him again after a few minutes. As mad as he could have been for the kid blatantly disregarding his order, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t grateful that he wasn’t alone out here.
“Don’t thank me yet, Sensei. Wait until we can breathe free air again.”
Neverending optimist, that one.
They made it back up the hill at last, and he had to suck in a sharp breath at the crater before them. He’d known that the blast had probably buried the tunnels, hell, he’d built the tunnel to collapse when they blew it up, but it was another thing entirely to see it with his own eyes. It wasn’t the first exit they had to block, but this is the first time he’d found himself on the wrong side of the door. He knew the statistics that follow. Very few survivors managed to make it back home after being trapped on the surface. And those that did needed help.
He let his legs buckle and Casey guided him to the ground. “Sensei?”
He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. “You know, I always thought I’d be in this position one day, it always seemed inevitable, but actually facing your last stand is pretty tough.”
Casey frowned, “Don’t say that. We’re going to make it!”
He studied his kid’s face, watching the determination shiver as something else fought for dominance. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he could guess. He smiled and reached up to pat Casey’s shoulder. “Of course we are, and on the way we’re going to ruin the Krang’s day, right?”
“Damn right!”
They really should have known better than to invoke Murphy’s Law like that. There was a growl behind them, and they turned to see a single hound climbing out of the wreckage. Casey pulled his mask over his face and brought his hockey saw off his shoulder, but they weren’t fast enough to stop the beast from howling. Casey darted forward, cutting the sound off with a swipe of his saw, but in the fading echoes they abruptly heard a chorus of answering calls.
The swarm was close. Too close. They’d never find cover again in time.
He cussed and forced himself back to his feet. They hadn’t found his sword, but he still had ninpo. This wasn’t how he wanted to go out. He’d always imagined doing something extravagant, like hitting the Technodrome itself right where it hurt. He stood back to back with his kid as the first creatures crawled into view, and took a deep breath as he reached deep inside himself for the well he’d been holding in reserve.
Before he could pull on it, however, he felt warmth spread through his soul, and moments later–as the first of the dogs leapt at him–golden chains materialized around them. They whipped faster than he could track, and the whole front line burst in shimmering arcs of gold and light.
“Your timing could use some work,” he greeted dryly under Casey’s bright “Master Michelangelo!”.
“Everyone’s a critic.” His brother appeared between one blink and the next, eyes scanning the horizon for the next wave. “I think you dropped something,” he chirped, his cheerful tone at odds with his expression, and a chain wrapped around itself to offer the hilt of a blue sword.
He stared, dumbfounded, as he accepted his blade. “You found it.”
“Wasn’t going to leave him behind in the dirt, was I?”
His mouth twisted painfully, and he fought back the heat that rushed to his head. His eyes stung, but neither of the other two mentioned it.
“Besides, we figured you could use the help!” Will wonders ever cease? She’d snuck up on him, he was clearly well off his game, and her hand was warm and comforting as April gripped his shoulder. He stared at her, too. “Don’t you dare ask,” she warned. “The others made it to the access tunnels before the explosion. You gave us quite a distraction. But someone needed to come back to make sure your dumb ass made it too.”
He drew himself up, offended, and glared at her. “Excuse you, I will have you know my dumb ass is quite intelligent, thank you very much.”
They all shared a laugh, but sobered quickly as another wave of howls approached.
Running down their options, he pressed his lips into a thin line as he came to a single answer.
“We’re not going to make it back to the Hidden City.” Casey started to object, but when Michelangelo and April didn’t join in his protests fell quiet. “But of course I have a plan. It’s going to be risky,” he ignored April’s snort, “but our chances of success will be significantly higher.”
“So let’s hear it then.” April extended her tech bo and balanced it across her shoulders, settling her wrists over either end.
“Mikey, it’s time to implement plan TTx8522-4673.”
Michelangelo furrowed his brow and turned to face him, frowning. “That’s going to take everything I have,” he warned quietly.
“What does that mean,” Casey asked, glancing between the two of them. “Sensei?”
“Maybe not.” The next wave of Krang were close, their many howls rippling fear down his spine. The swarm was on top of them. He reached back over his shoulder and pressed a latch, releasing the snapper battle shell from his own. They all looked at it for a few seconds as he brought it forward, and he smiled softly at it. “I need you to take care of him, big guy.” Maybe he imagined the curl of warmth in his heart, maybe it was wishful thinking, but he hoped not.
Walking up to his brother, he ran his fingers down the connectors on the side and pushed a sequence of buttons. The plates on the shell shifted over each other, spreading out to accommodate a bigger shell. “You’re not doing this alone, remember? We’ll cover you.” He didn’t wait for Mikey to protest, nudging his brother around in the air and moving his cloak aside to settle his shield over the box shell. It took a moment of adjusting, but his calculations had been perfect. It settled into place and latched.
Michelangelo got his feet under him as the added weight pulled him down, but he nodded to his brother. “We’re going to need space, and as much time as you can get me.” He whirled in place, eyes glowing as his ninpo flared up around him. His feet drew a circle in the dirt and the air suddenly became charged with energy.
Watching his brother work had always been awe-inspiring, but something about this moment felt different.
“Are either of you gonna tell us what’s going on?” April asked, her eyes fixed firmly on the horizon as the Krang began to appear. Casey took up a post some distance away, his hockey saw held at the ready.
Donatello studied his family for one breath, two, then stepped between them. He was already pulling at the well of power deep inside himself. Purple energy knit the air around him, crackling with a rush he hadn’t felt in years.
“We’re going back to the beginning.”