Chapter 1: “Too much peace"
Chapter Text
Chapter 1: " “Too much peace"
Michelangelo had never been so bored in his life.
And that was saying something.
He lay sprawled across the couch like a discarded action figure, one foot propped on the armrest, the other dangling off the edge. A half-eaten slice of cold pepperoni pizza rested on his plastron, forgotten. Above him, the TV buzzed with reruns of Space Heroes—the third time this week.
"Ugh," he groaned, tossing a crumpled napkin at the screen. "Even Captain Ryan has more action than we do."
Raphael didn’t look up from the training mat, flipping a sai lazily between his fingers. "Maybe if you cleaned up your messes, you'd have something to do."
"Or if you actually trained instead of snacking," Leo added, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to sound authoritative.
Donnie didn’t even glance up from his tablet. "Statistically, Mikey spends 68% of patrol time looking for pizza, 22% cracking jokes, and 10% nearly falling into sewers. I'm surprised he hasn’t vanished sooner."
Mikey gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. "Betrayal! From my own bro!"
They all laughed—even Raph cracked a smirk.
But as the laughter faded, the silence returned. Heavy. Hollow.
No alarms. No Foot Clan signals. No Kraang drones. No mysterious energy spikes.
Just… peace.
Mikey sighed, flipping the channel. "But seriously, Leo—if I have to watch Space Heroes one more time, I’m gonna start quoting Captain Ryan in my sleep."
Raph shot him a look. "Better than you quoting yourself."
"Your point?" Mikey shot back.
"My point," Raph said, tossing his sai into the air and catching it with a smirk, "is that we’re all bored. We need something to do."
Mikey flopped back with a dramatic groan. "Tell me about it. It’s been forever since we had a real fight. I mean, the last big thing was when our 80s counterparts showed up, and we helped them stop their Shredder and Krang from tearing the multiverse apart."
He stared at the ceiling, voice quieter now. "We saved the world. Again. And now… nothing."
Leo exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know it’s been quiet. Too quiet. But that doesn’t mean there’s no danger. We should still train. Stay sharp. Just in case."
Raph scoffed, kicking the training dummy so it spun wildly. "Oh, really, Leo? And what danger should we be worried about? The epic threat of jaywalking? That’s the biggest crime we’ve seen in weeks."
Donnie finally looked up from his tablet. "Well… what about Karai? Maybe she needs help. Or Shinigami. Foot Clan’s been rebuilding.
Leo nodded. "Yeah, I called her earlier. Turns out they’re calling it a night. No activity. She says the city’s peaceful. Quiet. Even the Purple Dragons have vanished. She’s busy, though—training the new ninjas, keeping Bebop and Rocksteady out of trouble."
Mikey perked up. "Oh yeah—Bebop and Rocksteady! Wait…" He paused. "Why are they even with Karai again?"
The other three groaned.
Donnie sighed, finally setting his tablet down. "Because, Mikey, we were the ones who suggested it after the multiverse incident. Remember? After they helped our 80s counterparts, they claimed they wanted to go straight. Be heroes. Noble. Whatever."
"Which, of course, backfired," Leo added. "They tried to ‘help’ by stealing Kraang crystals to sell on the black market—said they wanted to ‘fund their hero career.’"
Raph snorted. "We told them to leave. But nooo—they wanted to stay in the Big Apple.
Donnie shook his head. "Still, it was better than letting them run wild. So we asked Karai to take them in. She agreed—on one condition: they train. Discipline. No more chaos."
Mikey blinked. "Wait… and she said yes?"
"Yeah," Leo added, crossing his arms. "They caused more chaos in two weeks than the Foot Clan did in two years. We begged Karai to take them in. At least she can keep them busy — and out of jail."
"She’s tougher than she looks," Donnie said. "Plus, I used the last of my Retro-Mutagen to turn them human again. Took months to stabilize the formula—mutagen’s rare now. But they were happy. Said they missed being able to be normal. So… win-win?"
Mikey nodded slowly. "Yeah… I guess. But still—they’re doing something. Training. Helping. Meanwhile, we’re just… here."
Leo sighed. "I know, Mikey. We’re all feeling it. But the city’s safe. No threats. No signs of trouble."
Mikey sat up, eyes lighting up. "What about the Mighty Mutanimals? Maybe they need help! Or the sewers need cleaning! Or—dude!—maybe there’s a secret lab under a pretzel stand again!" Slash, Mondo, Pigeon Pete — they’re always in the thick of it!”
Raph stood, walking over to the training dummy and delivering a sharp punch. It swung wildly. "Talked to Slash yesterday. He says the streets are clean. Like, suspiciously clean. Petty stuff — jaywalking, noise complaints — but nothing worth suiting up for. They’re watching, but… there’s nothing to watch."
Mikey groaned, falling back onto the couch like a deflating balloon.
“Dudes,” he said, stretching his arms wide, “if I don’t fight a robot, save a city, or at least trip into a secret lab in the next 24 hours, I’m gonna turn into Casey Jones.”
Raph smirked. “You’re already halfway there.”
“I resemble that remark!” Mikey shot back, grinning. “Also… I miss him. And April. And action.”
Donnie’s voice softened. “They’re in Northampton. Fixing up the farmhouse. Taking care of… Splinter’s grave.”
The room fell silent.
The laughter faded. The TV buzzed quietly in the background.
One year.
The room went still.
The name hung in the air—soft, sacred.
They all looked down. Leo’s grip tightened on his swords. Donnie’s fingers stilled on his tablet. Raph stopped punching the dummy.
A year had passed since Master Splinter’s death. A year of silence without his voice, his wisdom, his warmth.
Leo finally spoke, voice low. "I know. I miss him too. But… I don’t think he’d want us to just… stop. He believed in us. In all of us. Even when we doubted ourselves."
He looked around at his brothers. "He’d be proud of how far we’ve come. And I think… he’d want us to keep moving forward. Even in peace."
They nodded, quiet. A shared understanding passed between them.
Raph broke the silence. "Alright. Enough moping. Let’s get some rest. Maybe tomorrow’ll actually happen."
Mikey grinned. "Or I’ll make it happen."
"Please don’t," Donnie muttered.
Leo stood. "Come on. It’s late. We’ve got a big day of… nothing… tomorrow."
Donnie stood, stretching. “Goodnight, knucklehead.”
“Night, genius.”
“Night, hothead.”
“Night, fearless.”
One by one, they headed to their rooms.
Mikey lingered. He turned off the TV, then padded into the kitchen. He gave the Ice Cream Kitty machine a gentle pat on the head — “Love you, little buddy” — and closed the freezer door.
"Man," he whispered, "I just want to do something."
Outside, unseen, a flicker of light pulsed in a dark alley. A hum in the air. A crack in reality.
And somewhere, a portal began to open.
Hours had passed since the lights in the lair had dimmed.
It was late — really late — the kind of deep, still night when even the city above seemed to hold its breath. The lair was quiet, wrapped in the hush of sleep. Donnie’s lab lights were off. Raph’s door was shut, not a sound from within. Leo’s room was dark and still, the disciplined warrior finally at rest. Even Donnie’s ever-buzzing tablet had gone silent.
Everyone was asleep.
…Except Michelangelo.
He lay in bed, tangled in his neon-orange sheets, tossing and turning like a turtle in a dryer. He stared up at the ceiling of his room — the glow-in-the-dark stars he’d stuck up years ago faintly shimmering like distant galaxies. He’d counted them. Twice. Then tried naming them after pizza toppings. Pepperoni Prime. Anchovy’s End. The Great Sausage Nebula.
Nothing helped.
He sighed, rolling onto his side with a dramatic groan. "Man… this is boring."
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. The silence pressed in on him. No alarms. No sirens. Not even the usual drip of a leaky pipe from Donnie’s lab. Just… stillness.
He missed noise. He missed chaos.
He could go watch more Chris Bradford movies. He loved those — the over-the-top action, the cheesy one-liners, the way Chris always saved the day with a smirk and a spin kick. But he’d already rewatched the entire series twice this month. Even the deleted scenes. Even the blooper reel.
Or… he could call Renet.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Yeah. Renet. His time-traveling, chaos-loving girlfriend. She had given him that Temporal Holo-Projector — a sleek, wrist-mounted device that let him reach her across time and space. "Anytime," she’d said with a wink. "Just don’t call during the French Revolution. I’m busy."
But then he remembered — she was grounded. For weeks. All because she’d “borrowed” the Time Scepter to take him on a date to the Wild West. Which, okay, had been epic — saloons, duels at high noon, Mikey accidentally becoming a folk legend named “The Orange Bandit” — but apparently, messing with the timestream for romance was a big no-no in the Time Master handbook.
So no Renet. No interdimensional dates. No temporal shenanigans.
Just… Mikey. Alone. In the dark. With his thoughts.
And his thoughts were screaming for action.
Then — click — like a lightbulb sparking in his brain — he had an idea.
A glorious, terrible, perfect idea.
His eyes lit up. A wide, mischievous grin spread across his face.
What if… I just… went out?
Not a real patrol. Not something Leo would approve of. Just… a solo mission. A little surface scouting. Maybe he’d find a mugging in progress. A break-in. A lost cat in a tree. Anything.
He could be back before sunrise. No one would even know he was gone.
"Just one little sneak-out," he whispered to himself. "What’s the worst that could happen?"
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, bare feet touching the cool concrete floor. Heart pounding with quiet excitement, he crept to his door and cracked it open.
The hallway was dark. Silent.
Leo’s door — shut.
Donnie’s — closed, faint snore from within.
Raph’s — barely ajar, but no movement.
Perfect.
"Oooh yeah," Mikey breathed, barely containing a giggle. "Solo patrol. Booyakasha!"
He tiptoed down the hall, arms out for balance like a ninja tightrope walker. Every creak of the floor made him freeze. Every distant drip of water sounded like an alarm.
Then — thud.
His foot caught the edge of a cardboard pizza box — one he’d left near the couch earlier. It crumpled under his heel with a loud crunch.
Mikey froze. "Oh, man…"
He turned slowly, eyes locked on his brothers’ doors.
Silence.
No lights. No stirring. No angry Raph bursting out with a sai.
He exhaled. "Phew."
Shaking his head, he stepped over the box and continued, slipping past the main living area, through the old subway turnstile that marked the lair’s entrance, and into the damp, echoing tunnels beyond.
The subway tracks stretched ahead, slick with moisture, lit only by the occasional flickering bulb. He moved fast now, the thrill of rebellion and adventure pumping through him. This was his night. His mission.
He broke into a jog, then a full sprint, his footsteps echoing like distant thunder.
"Come on, city," he whispered, grinning as he neared the surface access ladder. "Give me something. Anything. A robot. A mutant. A guy with a suspiciously large backpack."
He grabbed the rungs and climbed, pushing open the manhole cover above.
Cool night air rushed in. The distant hum of the city. The glow of neon signs. The smell of rain and street food.
Mikey popped his head out into the alley, scanning the streets.
Empty. Quiet.
But not for long.
Mikey hopped out of the manhole with a soft thud, the cool night air rushing over his shoulders as he popped his head above ground. The city stretched out before him — a glittering sea of neon signs, distant headlights, and the quiet hum of late-night life. Skyscrapers clawed at the starless sky, their windows flickering like sleepy eyes. Somewhere far off, a siren wailed — but it faded quickly. Probably just a false alarm. Of course.
He pulled himself fully onto the pavement, then gently set the manhole cover back in place with exaggerated care.
"Shhh," he whispered, tapping it like a baby’s crib. "Sleep tight, secret entrance. Don’t tell anyone I was here."
With a grin, he crouched low, then launched into a spin-kick jump onto the nearby fire escape. From there, he vaulted onto the roof, landing in a dramatic ninja pose — one arm raised, the other pointing forward.
"Michelangelo: Midnight Guardian of the Boring!"
He waited. No applause. Not even a pigeon.
"Rude," he muttered, straightening up.
Still, the thrill buzzed in his veins. He was out. Alone. On a self-appointed patrol. This was his city. His night. And even if nothing was happening, he was ready to make something happen.
He took off across the rooftops, leaping from building to building with practiced ease. His nunchaku swung lightly at his sides, tapping against his shell like a drummer keeping time. Each jump was a burst of freedom — a twist, a flip, a roll across gravel — his feet barely touching the surface before he was airborne again.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
He scanned the streets below as he moved. A couple walking hand-in-hand, laughing. A delivery guy loading boxes into a van. A cat slinking through a puddle. A street vendor shutting down his cart, muttering about the cold.
Nothing. Nothing.
No muggings. No break-ins. No rogue robots. Not even a suspiciously large backpack.
"Just… normal people," Mikey grumbled, landing on a flat rooftop and crouching at the edge. "Living their normal lives. Being normal. How dare they."
He flopped onto his back, staring up at the smog-covered sky. "I mean, I get it. Peace is good. Master Splinter always said balance was the heart of the warrior’s path. But come on — can’t balance come with, like, one evil lair? Just one secret lab with a doomsday device set to 'mild inconvenience'? Is that too much to ask?"
He sighed, rolling onto his side. For a moment, he thought about heading back. Leo would be up at dawn, checking patrols. Donnie would run system logs. Raph would know — Raph always knew when something was off. If they found out he’d snuck out…
"Michelangelo, we talked about this!" Leo would say, all stern and leader-y.
"You could’ve been captured. Or mutated. Or turned into a sentient pizza," Donnie would add, dead serious.
And Raph? Raph would just look at him. That slow, unimpressed stare that somehow hurt more than a punch.
Mikey groaned. "Okay, okay. Maybe it is time to call it a night."
He pushed himself up, brushing gravel off his shell. One last look at the city — quiet, calm, boring — and he turned to leave.
But then…
Something flickered.
Down in a narrow alley between two old brick buildings. Just a flash — like heat haze, but wrong. A ripple in the air, like water disturbed by an invisible stone. A low, almost subsonic hum vibrated through the ground, so faint he felt it more than heard it.
Mikey froze.
He rubbed his eyes. "Did I eat too much cold pizza? Am I hallucinating again?" (Last time, he’d sworn he saw a dancing taco. It was very convincing.)
He blinked hard. Looked again.
It was still there.
The air in the alley shimmered — not with light, but with depth, like reality itself had a wrinkle. A faint blue glow pulsed from within, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. And for a split second, the shadows moved — not like a person, but like something stepping through.
Mikey’s breath caught.
His boredom evaporated.
His heart kicked into overdrive.
A wide, wild grin split his face.
"Finally."
He dropped into a crouch, eyes locked on the anomaly. "Is that… a portal?
He didn’t wait for answers.
"Either way — Michelangelo’s on the case!",
With a powerful leap, he launched off the rooftop, flipping once before landing in a perfect roll on the fire escape below. He slid down the ladder, dropped to the street, and sprinted toward the alley, nunchaku already in hand — not because he expected a fight, but because style mattered.
Michelangelo crept into the alley, boots crunching softly over broken glass and damp cardboard. The narrow passage was dark, flanked by towering brick walls stained with decades of city grime. A flickering streetlamp at the far end cast long, dancing shadows — shadows that moved when they shouldn’t.
And then he saw it.
At the very end of the alley, reality itself was breaking.
It wasn’t like the portals the 1987 Turtles used — clean, stable, glowing with purple energy. No, this one was wild. Unstable. Alive.
A swirling vortex of cobalt blue and molten orange churned in the air, like two forces violently fused together. Lightning crackled at its edges, snapping like live wires. The center pulsed like a heartbeat — slow, then fast, then too fast — distorting the bricks behind it, warping space like heat over asphalt.
It hummed — not a sound, but a vibration deep in Mikey’s bones. His shell tingled. The air smelled like ozone and something… older. Like burnt circuits and ancient magic mixed together.
"Whoa…" Mikey breathed, eyes wide. "That is not on the list of 'normal city alley things.'"
He took a cautious step forward. Then another.
The ground trembled beneath him. The vortex flared — a jagged bolt of energy lashed out, striking the wall beside him and leaving a scorched scar.
Mikey yelped, jumping back. "Okay, okay — touchy!"
He fumbled for his T-Phone, fingers shaking with excitement — and maybe just a little fear.
"Leo! Donnie! Anyone!" he whispered into the device, tapping frantically to open a comms channel. "Wake up, dudes! You are not gonna believe this! I found something — like, huge! It’s a portal! But not like the ones we’ve seen! It’s all glitchy and angry and… kinda cool? I think it’s —"
He froze.
The portal shuddered.
A deep, resonant crack split the air — like thunder trapped in a bottle.
The colors inside exploded in brightness. Blue and orange spiraled faster, twisting into a blinding maelstrom. The hum rose to a shriek. The ground quaked. Loose bricks tumbled from the walls.
Mikey dropped the T-Phone.
It clattered to the ground, screen cracking as it hit the pavement — the call still open, the tiny speaker crackling with static.
"Mikey?!" Leo’s voice — distant, tinny — echoed from the device. "Mikey, what’s happening?!"
But Mikey couldn’t answer.
He was being pulled.
An invisible force gripped him — not from the front, but from within, like his own body was being yanked toward the vortex. He stumbled forward, boots scraping against concrete.
"No, no, no — not cool!"
He reached out, grabbing a rusted pipe jutting from the wall. His fingers locked on tight. Muscles strained.
But the pull was stronger.
The portal roared — a sound like tearing metal and screaming wind. Lightning arced across the alley, setting a dumpster smoldering.
"LEO! HELP!" Mikey screamed, voice raw. "IT’S GOT ME — I CAN’T — AAAAHHHH!"
His grip slipped.
Fingers tore free.
And in one horrifying, weightless moment —
he was yanked forward.
His body stretched, twisted — like reality itself was folding around him. Colors blurred. Sound distorted. His scream was swallowed by the vortex as he was sucked into the heart of the storm.
For a split second, he saw it — a flash of another world beyond
Then — silence.
The portal collapsed in on itself with a final, thunderous SNAP.
Light vanished.
The hum died.
The alley was still once more.
Empty.
Quiet.
Only the cracked T-Phone lay on the ground, screen flickering with a fading signal.
And from the tiny speaker, Leo’s voice — urgent, panicked — echoed into the night:
"Mikey?! MIKEY, ANSWER ME!"
No answer came.
Above, the city slept on.
Chapter 2: "Breaking the Balance"
Summary:
In the quiet aftermath of the Krang invasion, the Turtles try to settle into a new normal — but peace feels heavier than battle. As strange energy ripples begin to surface across the city, Draxum warns of a growing threat tied to the Mystic. When an unstable magic goes wrong, tensions explode in the lair, and one of the brothers is pushed to the edge. What starts as a moment of doubt quickly spirals into something beyond their control… and deep beneath the streets of New York, reality itself begins to crack.
Notes:
Good afternoon, good night, or good morning—wherever you are and whenever you're reading this, hello! 🌟
I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This one? Well, it’s a little different—
So, with a warm heart and a sprinkle of excitement… I present to you—Chapter Two.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
New York City.
Months after the Krang invasion had torn the skyline apart, the city was alive again — rebuilt, buzzing, and beautiful. Skyscrapers gleamed under the sun. Streets hummed with traffic and laughter. Parks bloomed with life. The scars of war were fading.
But deep below the surface, in the heart of the Turtle Lair — things were not peaceful.
"Raph! Raph! Raph! Raph!"
The chant echoed through the lair like a war cry.
Raphael, arms piled high with stacks of pizza boxes balanced precariously on his head, wobbled like a Jenga tower about to collapse. He was in the middle of a very important mission: World Record Attempt — Most Pizza Boxes Balanced on One Head Without Dying (Probably).
"Come on, Raph, I believe in you!" Michelangelo cheered from the couch, popcorn flying as he bounced in excitement.
Donatello leaned against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "Statistically, you have a 73% chance of concussing yourself. Also, why are we doing this?"
"Because fun, Donnie!" Leo called. "And because Raph said he could beat my record of seven boxes. I say eight is the true limit of turtle endurance."
Raphael grunted, arms out for balance, eyes locked forward like a tightrope walker over a canyon.
"Easy, easy… I got this. I am balance. I am focus. I am—"
"About to eat floor," Donnie muttered.
"Shut up, Donnie!" Raph snapped, carefully adding another box to the top. "Easy. I got this. No sweat. I am Raph the Great. Master of Balance. Lord of the Stack. Pizza King of the — whoa!"
He wobbled. The tower swayed.
"Raph, no!" Mikey gasped.
"Raph, yes!" Raph insisted, arms flailing.
Then —
"WHAT. ARE. YOU. TURTLES. DOING?!"
A deep, thunderous voice cut through the chaos.
Everyone froze.
Raph’s eyes widened.
The boxes tumbled.
CRASH!
Pizza boxes rained down like confetti in a disaster zone.
The Turtles turned slowly.
Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, brow furrowed, was Draxum — Alchemist, former enemy, now… sort of ally? Guardian? Dad-figure? No one was really sure.
"Draxum!" Leo said, hopping off the bike. "We were just… uh… training."
"...Training," Draxum repeated, deadpan.
"Yeah!" Mikey said, hopping up. "We were setting a new lair record: Most Pizza Boxes Balanced on One Head! Raph was this close to beating Leo’s score—"
"—until someone started yelling," Raph muttered.
"—but then you showed up and ruined the vibe," Mikey finished, crossing his arms.
Draxum exhaled through his nose, smoke curling from his nostrils.
"And why," he asked slowly, "are you doing this… in the lair? Why not outside?"
"Oh, we were gonna!" Donnie said, finally looking up from his tablet. "But it started raining. We didn’t want the boxes to get soggy. Waste of good cardboard. And possibly pizza."
Draxum just stared.
"...You care about soggy pizza boxes," he said.
"Have you tasted wet crust?" Donnie shot back. "It’s a crime against science."
Draxum sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Where is Master Splinter? I need to speak with him."
Donnie adjusted his goggles. "He went with April and Casey to pick up groceries. And… uh… some special leaves. For Splinter’s new tea ritual. Apparently, it helps with ‘spiritual alignment’ or something."
Draxum blinked. "Ah. The time-travel boy is still living here, then?"
"Yep!" Mikey grinned. "Casey’s been chillin’ with us since he got stuck in our timeline. Honestly? He’s been sweet. Even helped us fix the lair’s Wi-Fi."
Raph smirked. "Except that one time he sleepwalked and bit Splinter’s ear."
Mikey burst out laughing. "Dude was chewing on it like a jerky stick!"
Donnie nodded seriously. "Makes sense. In his timeline, he survived on leaves and rats. Instincts are hard to unlearn."
Draxum stared. "...I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that."
Leo slid his katana through the air, blue energy crackling as a portal tore open in the center of the lair. With a flick of his wrist, he kicked a few stray pizza boxes into the rift — they tumbled through and vanished with a pop.
As the portal snapped shut behind them, Leo turned back to Draxum.
"Alright. Splinter’s not here, so if it’s important… you can tell us."
Draxum exhaled, rubbing his temples like he was already regretting this conversation.
"Ugh. Fine. Since he’s not here, I’ll say it to you."
He locked eyes with Leo — then shifted to Mikey.
"...It’s about you two."
The room went still.
Leo blinked. "...Wait. Me and Mikey?"
Draxum nodded. "Yes. Especially you, Leonardo. And you, Michelangelo. What you did — pulling Leo back from the prison dimension, creating that gateway with the Mystic — it changed everything."
Mikey scratched his head. "Uh… we saved Leo? That’s kind of our thing?"
Draxum shook his head. "You don’t understand. That act — using the Mystic to tear open a rift between dimensions — it didn’t just close when you came back. It echoed. The Mystic energy in the Hidden City has been… unstable ever since. Stronger. Wilder. Like it’s awake."
Donnie sat up, suddenly alert. "Wait — you’re saying Mikey’s connection to the Mystic amplified the flow? Like a feedback loop?"
"Exactly," Draxum said. "In the Crying Titan, the Empyrean have grown more powerful than ever. The balance between Mystic and reality is fraying. And if it breaks—"
"—boom," Raph said flatly. "Magic apocalypse. Got it."
"Not just magic," Draxum corrected, voice low. "Reality itself could unravel. Dimensions could bleed together. Time could fracture. Entire worlds could vanish."
A heavy silence fell.
Mikey swallowed. "...So… we kinda broke the universe?"
"You," Draxum said, pointing at Mikey, "unlocked something. And you—" he turned to Leo, "—have the power to travel anywhere. With your twin katanas, you can open portals to any place, any time. We don’t even know the limit. You could step into another dimension by accident."
Leo stared at his blades. "...You’re saying I could open a door… and walk into a world with another me?"
"Possibly," Draxum said. "And if the Mystic keeps growing… it won’t be you choosing when that door opens. It’ll be the universe."
Raph, who had been quiet for entirely too long, suddenly grinned.
"Okay, hold up. So you’re telling me there could be other versions of us out there? Like, alternate Turtles?"
"Seems likely," Donnie mused, already pulling out his tablet. "Given the multiverse theory, quantum divergence, and the recent spike in interdimensional resonance—"
"Yeah, yeah, science," Raph interrupted, waving a hand. "But imagine it! Another me? Probably way cooler. Maybe I’m a king. Or a space pirate. Or a rockstar with laser drums!"
Mikey’s eyes lit up. "Or maybe there’s a world where I’m the leader! With my own katanas! And a cape! And I fight, like, cosmic pizza monsters!"
Leo smirked. "Or a world where you do all the training."
"Whoa, dark," Mikey said, clutching his chest. "No way. I’m the fun one. That’s my brand."
Donnie tapped rapidly on his tablet. "Okay, based on current energy readings, the probability of alternate selves existing in parallel dimensions is… hmm… 0.0001987%."
He paused. "Wait. No. That’s not right. I think I forgot to factor in the Krang’s interdimensional tech, and Mikey’s Mystic surge…"
He recalculated. "...Actually? It’s not impossible. It’s probable. We could meet other versions of ourselves. And if the rifts keep growing… they might come here."
Draxum rubbed his eyes, a deep weariness in his voice.
"I don’t even think it’s possible — seeing another version of ourselves. I mean, how? And even if we could, what good would it do? It’d be a waste of time. That’s why I wanted to speak with Splinter. With the Mystic growing unstable, we need guidance — not wild theories about doppelgängers and parallel worlds."
Leo waved a hand, smirking. "Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?"
Donnie, already pulling up a holographic board from his wrist-tech, didn’t look up.
"Well, let’s see. If the Mystic energy spirals out of control? We could die. The Hidden City could collapse. The Empyrean — the source of all Yōkai magic — could be ripped from existence. And since every mystical being, including us, draws power from it? Yeah. That means poof."
He snapped his fingers.
"No more magic. No more portals. No more us."
Silence.
Mikey, who had been quiet, finally spoke.
"But… come on, guys. I mean, there’s no way that’s gonna happen, right? Leo and I’ve got this under control. Right?"
He looked at Leo.
Leo gave a confident nod. "Right. We’ve handled worse."
Mikey forced a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, of course we have."
But inside, his chest tightened.
He stepped away from the group, staring at his hands.
The memory flashed behind his eyes — not of victory, but of fear.
The day the Krang invaded. The sky turned red.
His brothers — Raph — turned into a mindless Krang drone, attacking him and his brothers with cold, mechanical fury.
Leo, trapped in the Prison Dimension.
The weight of the world on his shoulders.
And then… the power. The Mystic.
He hadn’t asked for it. He hadn’t trained for it.
He’d just felt it — a storm inside him — and unleashed it to save Leo, to open a gateway across dimensions.
He’d done it out of love. Out of desperation.
But what if… he couldn’t do it again?
What if he did — and it destroyed everything?
I have this under control, he told himself. I can learn. I can master it. I won’t use it… unless I have to.
But as he stood there, the air around him shivered.
A faint orange glow pulsed beneath his skin.
His fingers twitched.
And then —
Thrum.
A deep, resonant beat, like a heartbeat from beyond.
Everyone froze.
Mikey gasped, clutching his chest. "Wha—?"
"Mikey?" Leo said, stepping forward.
Before he could react —
WHOOSH.
A surge of blazing orange energy erupted from Mikey’s body.
His feet lifted off the ground.
His eyes glowed — pure white, ringed with fire-orange light.
Chains of raw Mystic energy burst from his back, writhing like living serpents, crackling with power.
The lair trembled.
Lights flickered.
Equipment sparked and died.
"MIKEY!" Donnie yelled.
"He’s going full Mystic!" Raph shouted, diving behind the couch.
"Get back!" Draxum roared, shoving the others aside as glowing chains lashed out — slamming into the walls, tearing through steel, ripping the very air.
The Mystic chains whipped wildly, smashing monitors, flipping tables.
The ceiling cracked.
The floor buckled.
The portal Leo had opened earlier flickered — as if responding to the energy.
"He’s not in control!" Leo shouted, drawing his katanas. "We have to shut it down!"
"You can’t just 'shut down' the Mystic!" Draxum snapped. "It’s not a machine! It’s alive! And it’s reacting to him!"
Mikey floated in the center of the storm, mouth open in silent shock — not attacking, not aware. His mind was elsewhere.
"Mikey!" Raph shouted, flipping sideways as a glowing orange chain slammed into the ground where he’d just stood, cracking the concrete like glass. He rolled, spun, and drove his sai into the
chain — but it shattered like brittle light, only to reform instantly, lashing out again.
"Dodge, don’t stab!" Donnie yelled, using his bo staff to vault over a sweeping chain, landing beside Raph. "They’re made of pure Mystic energy — you can’t fight them like steel!"
"Then how do we fight 'em?!" Raph snapped, barely avoiding a whip-like strike that tore a hole in the ceiling.
Above them, Mikey floated — suspended in a storm of his own making.
His body glowed with pulsing orange light, veins lit like fire beneath his skin.
His hands were raised, trembling, as a swirling gateway began to form behind him — small at first, no bigger than a manhole, but growing fast.
The air around it warped, reality bending like hot metal.
Draxum dodged a chain with a powerful leap, landing in a crouch.
"This is exactly what I warned you about!" he roared, smoke curling from his nostrils. "The Mystic isn’t a tool — it’s a force! And right now, it’s using him!"
Donnie’s eyes darted to his tablet, now glitching from the energy surge.
"The gateway’s forming on an unstable frequency — it’s not going to another location. It’s tearing into a dimensional weak point! If it opens fully, it could collapse the entire city’s reality!"
"Then we shut it down!" Leo shouted, drawing both katanas.
He slashed through the air — golden portals ripped open in midair, redirecting the attacking chains like water through sluices. One portal swallowed a chain, spat it into another — Leo was
dodging and redirecting, buying time.
"Mikey!" Leo yelled, leaping over a collapsing shelf. "Wake up! You’re not alone!"
"We have to reach him before the gateway consumes him!" Leo shouted.
Raph grunted, flipping over a low-swinging chain.
"Oh, sure! Just walk up to the guy ripping reality apart and give him a hug! No big deal!"
"That’s exactly what I’m gonna do!" Leo shot back.
With a powerful leap, he launched himself through a portal that opened beneath his feet. Then — he lunged.
He dove through the storm of chains, dodging, twisting, using his katanas to slice open micro-portals that let him phase through attacks.
One step. Two. Closer. Closer.
And then —
He reached him.
"Mikey!"
Leo grabbed his brother, wrapping his arms around him in a crushing hug.
"I’ve got you!"
For a heartbeat — nothing.
Then —
BOOM.
The gateway shuddered.
The chains froze mid-strike.
The rift in the wall flickered.
Leo didn’t let go. Instead, he did what he always did in the worst moments.
He anchored him.
"You’re not alone," Leo whispered, voice breaking. "I’m right here. Come back."
And then — with the last of his strength — Leo slammed the flat of his katana into the ground, channeling pure energy into a sonic pulse.
KRA-KOOM!
A blue and golden shockwave erupted — not violent, but focused. A wave of balance. Of brotherhood.
The chains shattered — dissolving into glowing embers that faded like dying stars.
The rift in the wall collapsed with a thunderous snap.
The gateway Mikey had created flickered — then imploded, vanishing like a popped bubble.
And Mikey —
Fell.
Leo caught him.
They collapsed together, breathing hard, the lair silent at last.
Above them, through the cracked ceiling, the first light of dawn crept over New York.
Slowly, Mikey stirred.
His eyes fluttered open — back to normal. Confused. Shaken.
"Ugh… what… what happened?" he mumbled, sitting up with Leo’s help. "Did I… eat bad pizza again?"
"You almost opened a hole into another universe," Raph said, walking over, arms crossed — but his voice was soft.
Donnie helped him up, scanning him with his wrist-tech. "Your vitals are stable. But your Mystic energy levels are off the charts. It’s like you’re… tuned to something."
Draxum stepped forward, arms crossed, but his glare had softened.
"You didn’t just tap the Mystic, Michelangelo. You called to it. And something… answered."
"I'm glad you're okay," Leo said, pulling Mikey into another tight hug.
"Same here, bro," Raph grunted, clapping him on the back so hard Mikey nearly face-planted.
Even Draxum gave a rare, stiff nod — then, almost awkwardly, placed a clawed hand on Mikey’s shoulder.
"You’re lucky you’ve got a strong spirit. A weaker one would’ve been consumed."
Mikey grinned weakly. "Yeah… guess I’m just that radical."
Donnie, already scanning the lingering energy, pointed toward the center of the lair.
"Uh… guys? While the family moment is very touching… we might have a bigger problem."
They turned.
The portal was still there.
Not closed.
Not fading.
It hovered in the air — a swirling, unstable rift of blue and glowing orange, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Cracks of light spiderwebbed across the walls around it.
The air smelled like ozone and burnt sugar.
And from within… silence.
Until-
A low, distant scream echoed from beyond the rift.
Then another.
Pain. Panic. Agony.
"ASHH! WHAT IS THAT?!" Mikey shrieked, leaping behind Raph like a startled cat.
"Okay, no panic!" Draxum barked, stepping forward, claws flexed, eyes locked on the pulsing rift. "Stay calm. Stay sharp. We don’t know what’s coming — but we do know we’re not running."
Raph crossed his arms, glaring at Leo."So what’s the plan, Fearless? You’re the leader. You open portals like they’re birthday presents. What do we do — seal it? Study it? Throw a party and see who shows up?"
Leo opened his mouth — then closed it.
His katanas trembled slightly in his grip.
"...I don’t know."
Silence.
Raph blinked. "You don’t know? That’s new."
"I don’t!" Leo snapped. "But we can’t just close it if someone’s trapped on the other side! What if they’re hurt? What if they’re begging for help?"
Raph rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. Now you’re sympathizing with the screaming void? What if it’s a monster? What if it’s a Krang in a trench coat? What if it’s worse — like a mutant raccoon with a grudge?!"
Before Mikey could suggest that actually sounded kinda cool, he took a slow step toward the rift.
"...I wonder what’s on the other side," he whispered, reaching out.
"Mikey, no!" Draxum lunged, grabbing his shoulder. "We don’t know what evil lies beyond that portal! For all we know, it could be a dimension of pure chaos, ruled by an overlord who—"
"Wait," Donnie interrupted, eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"
They froze.
From within the rift — muffled, desperate — a voice screamed.
Then another.
Then—
"AAAAHHHHH!!!"
With a violent crack, the rift exploded with light.
A figure tumbled through — limbs flailing, bandana askew — and slammed into the ground with a heavy thud.
The portal snapped shut behind them, vanishing like a popped bubble.
Silence.
The Turtles stared.
The figure groaned, rolling onto their back.
Orange bandana. Blue eyes. Round, expressive face. But… different. Knee pads. Wraps on his ankles and forearms. A shell that looked just a little older, a little more worn. His voice, when he spoke, was higher, faster — frantic.
"OH MY GOD—WHAT WAS THAT?! WHERE AM I?! IS THAT A SHEEP?!" he shrieked, scrambling back. "OH MY GOD!"
Mikey gasped, pointing.
"IT’S ME!"
"AHHHH!" Donnie screamed, falling backward over a broken monitor.
"Is he… dead?" Raph asked, crouching slightly, sai raised.
"Okay, okay, this cannot be happening," Leo muttered, gripping his katanas tighter. "This is a dream. I fell asleep during training. That’s it."
Draxum slowly approached the stranger, hand raised.
"Easy. You’re safe. Who are you? How did you get here?"
The newcomer blinked up at him — then, in one sudden motion, grabbed Draxum’s wrist and threw him across the room like a ragdoll.
"DON’T TOUCH ME, SHEEP!" he screamed, scrambling to his feet.
The Rise Turtles instantly raised their weapons.
"Alright, pal," Raph growled, stepping forward. "Who are you, and why’d you just body-slam our other Dad-figure?! Are you Kraang? Foot Clan? A lost member of—"
The stranger froze.
Then his eyes widened.
Then — slowly — he turned.
And saw them.
Four turtles.
But not his brothers.
One with a large, slightly worn, and bulky-figured physique.
One with a pair of steel asymmetric goggles atop his head.
One with a Rust brown harness that has the turtle emblem attached over his heart..
And one — the one in front — with two katanas.
His jaw dropped.
His eyes bulged.
And then —
And then —
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
The Rise Turtles screamed too.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
They screamed so long that Donnie’s tablet short-circuited from the sonic vibration.
They screamed so hard that a single pizza box caught fire from sheer emotional intensity.
Finally — breathless, hoarse, trembling — they all collapsed.
Silence.
Then, slowly, the stranger — the other Mikey — pointed a shaky finger at Rise Mikey.
"...You’re... you’re me."
Rise Mikey pointed back. "...You’re... me."
They stared.
Then, in unison:
"THIS IS SO COOL!"
"THIS IS NOT COOL!"
They screamed again.
Just then —
While the Turtles and Draxum were still frozen in shock, screaming at the impossible sight before them, the lair door creaked open.
Splinter, April, and Casey stepped inside, arms full of grocery bags and takeout containers.
"Hey, guys," April said cheerfully, "what’s wrong?"
Then she saw them.
Her eyes locked onto the stranger — the turtle who looked exactly like Mikey, but… different. Wider eyes. Older wraps. A voice that had just screamed like a haunted teakettle.
The grocery bag slipped from her hands, spilling egg rolls, soy sauce packets, and three extra-large pizzas onto the floor.
Casey froze mid-step, hockey mask on. "Uh… did we just walk into a twin convention?"
Splinter’s calm demeanor cracked. His ears twitched. His tail went stiff. His gaze swept the room — the damaged walls, the lingering energy in the air, the two Michelangelos — and then landed on Draxum.
"What in the name of ancient balance is happening here?!" Splinter boomed, his voice echoing like thunder. "And you—!" He pointed at Draxum. "What have you done?!"
Draxum threw his hands up. "I didn’t do anything! One second there was a rift, the next—" he gestured wildly at Michelangelo, "—he fell out like a bad omen with a bandana!"
April shrieked again. "THERE’S TWO OF HIM?!"
Casey stare at the two Mikey as he remove his white goaltender mask. "I have no word about this!"
"AHHHH!" the Rise Turtles screamed again, pointing at their alternate self.
"AHHHH!" 2012 Mikey screamed back, hands on his head.
"AHHHH!" Mikey screamed just because everyone else was.
Splinter, April, and Casey joined in.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Notes:
Hey everyone!
I really hope this chapter leaves you excited for what’s coming next—because more is definitely on the way!
Quick heads-up: I had to repost this chapter because yesterday there was a total blackout —no internet, no power, just me and my thoughts (and maybe a candle or two ). So yeah, that’s why the update got a little wobbly. But don’t worry—everything’s back online, all systems go, and I’m ready to keep writing! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
Thank you so, so much for sticking around and reading my little story. It means the world to me. I truly hope your day is absolutely amazing—filled with joy, cozy vibes, and maybe a cute snack or two.
Anyway, thank you again—from the bottom of my heart.
Stay awesome, stay creative, and keep being the rad,
Chapter 3: "Brother from Another Dimension"
Summary:
Chaos erupts the moment the rift spits out a very confused, very screaming Michelangelo from another dimension — One second, the Rise Turtles are dealing with a mystical meltdown; the next, they’re face-to-face with a younger, more high-pitched, bandana-wearing clone of their own Mikey.
One turtle from another world. One lair already running on chaos. What could possibly go wrong?
Notes:
Good afternoon, good night, or good morning—wherever you are and whenever you're reading this… hello, lovely soul!
I truly hope you're enjoying the chapters so far—because guess what? This is just the beginning… more is on the way!
With a heart full of warmth, I proudly present to you—Chapter Three
✅ Mikey = The Rise of the TMNT version
✅ Michelangelo = The 2012 version
Chapter Text
After a long, ear-splitting moment of pure pandemonium, Draxum finally roared:
"ENOUGH!"
His voice cracked like thunder through the ruined lair. Smoke curled from his nostrils. His orange eyes blazed.
Everyone froze.
Everyone… except the two Michelangelos.
One let out a final, trailing "Ahhhh…" before Draxum turned his glare on him.
Michelangelo yelped and snapped his mouth shut.
"Thank you," Draxum growled, rubbing his temples. "Now. Can we please act like warriors instead of scared raccoons?"
Silence settled — shaky, but real.
Draxum pointed at the stranger. "We’ve got a problem. And he is it."
All eyes turned to Michelangelo, still sitting on the floor,
Splinter stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage: shattered monitors, scorched walls, a portal-scarred ceiling, and a single, sad egg roll melting into the carpet.
"...The lair," he said, voice dangerously calm. "Is destroyed."
The Turtles exchanged glances.
"...And do you know," Splinter continued, "how long it takes me to clean this place every day? To maintain order? To find balance in the chaos?"
The brothers deadpanned.
"...I mean, my sons," Splinter added quickly. "Of course, I care about you."
"...Sure," Raph muttered.
"But someone," Splinter said, turning slowly to Draxum, "is going to clean this up."
Draxum blinked. "Me?!"
"Because you were the one who barged in here first, shouting about mystical instability! And second — I have Lou Jitsu night. It’s sacred. I will not miss the final fight scene because I’m picking up nunchaku from the rubble."He turned to leave.
"Hold on!" Draxum grabbed his shoulder. "I didn’t come here to babysit your broken home or play janitor! I came because the Mystic is unraveling — and if we don’t act, the Hidden City could collapse! The Empyrean could vanish! All magic — gone!"
Splinter turned back, unimpressed. "And?"
"And?!" Draxum growled. "You think this is just about your movie night?! The balance of two worlds is at stake! The very source of our power could be erased — and you’re worried about dust on your incense holder?!"
"Oh, I know exactly what’s at stake!" Splinter snapped. "But someone has to maintain order! And someone has to remind you hotheads that responsibility doesn’t vanish just because the universe is falling apart! You want to save the Mystic? Then clean up the chaos first!"
"I am not your janitor!"
"Then stop acting like a reckless beast and start acting like a guardian!"
They stood nose-to-snout, fur and hooves bristling, eyes locked in a battle older than time — two warriors, one a rat, one a caprid Yōkai both fathers in their own way, both stubborn as stone.
And in the corner of the ruined lair, the Turtles, April, Casey, watched in silence.
Raph folded his arms. "Alright. While Dad and Sheep Creep over there argue about cosmic balance and floor mops… what do we do with him?" He jerked a thumb at Michelangelo
Donnie cross his arms a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face. "Ohhh, I have ideas. Let’s run some tests. Scans. Blood work. Maybe a little neural mapping..." He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "I wonder if alternate-dimension Mikey tastes different."
"NO!" Raph snapped, stepping between Donnie and Mikey. "We are not experimenting on him! He’s a turtl ! And also — he's Mikey!"
Leo crossed his arms. "Raph’s right. We can’t treat him like a lab rat. He’s… one of us. Just… from somewhere else."
April stepped forward, smiling gently. "Maybe we should just… talk to him? Get to know him? He’s been through something huge."
As Splinter and Draxum continued their heated argument in the corner — something about “cosmic balance” and “who’s cleaning the lair” — the rest of the group turned to the visitor.
Michelangelo sat quietly, knees pulled to his chest, eyes wide as he watched them.
They were his family.
But… not.
Same faces. Same hearts. But different. Like a remix of a song he knew by heart.
Wait… he thought. I’m in another dimension. These aren’t just copies. They’re real. They’ve got their own April. Their own Casey. Their own Splinter. Their own… me.
He glanced at Mikey.
And he’s… way different than me. That’s possible?
Then, slowly, Michelangelo stood up.
"So… uh… you guys are like alternate versions, huh?" he said, hands behind his head, grinning. "I mean, obviously. But still. This is wild."
The room turned.
Leo blinked. Raph raised a brow. Donnie’s eyes lit up like a mad scientist who just found a new variable.
"Uh… yeah?" Leo said, scratching his head. "Kinda? I mean… we’re you, but… not?"
Donnie adjusted his goggles, scanning Michelangelo with his wrist-tech. "Fascinating. Biometric readings are 98.7% identical. Same mutation strain. Same plastron density. Same energy signature." He smirked. "I knew there had to be alternate versions of us! Quantum divergence, multiversal resonance,—"
"—and I said it was impossible!" Raph cut in. "No way another version of me exists. That’d be too cool."
Donnie snapped his fingers. "Pay up, Raph! I told you! Multiverse theory! I won!"
Raph groaned, pulling a crumpled dollar from his belt. "Ugh. Worst. Bet. Ever."
April stepped forward, hand out, smile warm. "Hey. I’m April O’Neil. Nice to meet you… uh… Other Mikey?"
Michelangelo stared.
He took her hand, shaking it a little too enthusiastically. "Likewise! I mean—uh—pleased to meet you, April! Even though you’re not my April… which is super weird, but also kinda cool?"
April chuckled. "Believe me, I get it. I never thought I’d meet another version of our Mikey either. Or, well… you."
Before they could say more, Leo clapped his hands together.
"Alright, team! Let’s focus!"
He turned to get everyone’s attention — but in the far corner of the ruined lair, Splinter and Draxum were still locked in a heated argument, voices low but sharp.
"—you can't just ignore the Mystic instability because you want to watch Lou Jitsu!" Draxum growled.
"And you can't expect me to abandon discipline and order just because the universe sneezed!" Splinter shot back. "Chaos breeds more chaos, Draxum!"
"We are past sneezing!" Draxum roared. "The Empyrean is pulsing like a dying star!"
Leo sighed. "…They’re not helping."
April rolled her eyes. "Give it time. They always argue like this. Like two old dads who forgot how to say ‘I care’ without yelling."
Leo clapped his hands. "Alright, new plan. We keep him here. At least until we figure out how to send him back."
"We keep him?!" Mikey gasped, eyes lighting up like fireworks. "Seriously?! I get to stay? With me? This is the coolest thing ever!"
April raised a hand. "Hold on — where’s he gonna sleep? The lair’s already a mess."
Casey shrugged. "Dude’s stuck here. Might as well make it official."
"Casey’s got a point," Raph said, glancing at Michelangelo. "Unless you can open another portal, Mikey?"
Mikey rubbed the back of his head, suddenly nervous. "Uh… I could… but after that last surge, I kinda feel like I got hit by a truck made of magic. I don’t think I can do it yet."
"Then he stays," Leo said firmly. "For now."
Michelangelo pumped his fist. "YES! Roomie time! We can share snacks! Tell stories! I can show you how we beat the Krang!"
Donnie adjusted his goggles, a mischievous grin spreading. "And I can run tests. Just a few. Maybe implant a tracker. See how interdimensional travel affects the nervous system. Nothing invasive!"
Everyone turned to him.
"...It’s a joke," Donnie said, laughing nervously.
April narrowed her eyes. "Donnie."
"Okay, mostly a joke."
"Anyway…" Leo said, stepping forward, his voice calm but firm. He turned to Splinter, who was still side-eyeing Draxum like he might spontaneously combust. "Master Splinter… can he stay?"
Splinter blinked. "What?"
"Michelangelo," Leo said, gesturing to the wide-eyed turtle from another world. "He’s stuck here. He has no way home — not yet, anyway. And he has nowhere to go. So… can he stay? Just until we figure things out?"
He looked at Splinter.
And then…
He hit him with the eyes.
Big. Round. Shiny. Puppy-dog eyes — full guilt-trip mode.
Splinter stiffened. "No."
Mikey instantly joined in, blinking rapidly. "Pleeease, Sensei?"
Raph folded his arms. "C’mon, Sensei. He’s basically mikey. We won’t cause any trouble. Much."
Donnie stare at him. "I do need to run tests. For science. And to make sure he’s not, y’know… a psychic virus or a dimension-eating parasite."
April smiled. "He’s just like Mikey. Only… slightly less likely different"
Casey clapped his hands. "And we’ve got room! Barely! But still! How hard can it be to house one extra turtle who’s literally the same person?!"
Splinter crossed his arms. "We already have Casey living here."
"Hey!" Casey protested. "I’m a valuable asset!"
"And now you want another dimensionally displaced mutant teenager?!" Splinter threw his hands up. "First the Draxum, then the time-travel boy,
"—and now another Mikey?! This lair is not a multiversal hostel!"
Michelangelo stepped forward, hopeful. "But… I promise I won’t be any trouble! I’ll clean up! I’ll train! I’ll even… fold the laundry!"
Splinter paused. "...You’ll fold the laundry?"
"And!" Mikey added, slinging an arm around his alternate self, "he’ll let you ride the Turtle Tank!"
Splinter’s ears twitched.
"...The Turtle Tank?"
Mikey grinned. "Full tour. Front seat. Turbo boost. Laser lights. And you will drive it."
Splinter narrowed his eyes. "...Hmm. And… you’ll obey my rules? No sneaking out? No doing anything stupid?"
Michelangelo saluted. "Scout’s honor!"
"...You were never a scout."
"Still counts!"
Splinter stared at him. Then at Leo’s pleading eyes. Then at the rest of his sons, grinning like they’d already won.
Finally, he sighed — deep, long, the sigh of a man who knew he was defeated by love by his sons and his love for his tv.
"...Fine. He can stay."
The Turtles exploded in cheers.
"YES!" Mikey and Michelangelo high-fived so hard it echoed.
They rushed forward, pulling Michelangelo into a massive group hug — Raph pretended to resist, Donnie yelped about “germs,” but he didn’t let go.
Even Splinter cracked a small smile.
Then Draxum leaned in, voice low. "Are you sure about this? We don’t know what he’s capable of. What if he triggers another surge? What if the rift opens again?"
Splinter shrugged. "Let it. We’ve handled worse. And besides…" He glanced at the boys, laughing, hugging, already treating this stranger like family. "...They’re ours. Both of them."
He grabbed Draxum’s arm. "Now come. We are watching Lou Jitsu: Shadow of the Dragon Fist. And you are not leaving until the end credits."
Draxum groaned. "Ugh. I’d rather fight a hundred Foot Clan."
"Oh yes we are," Splinter said, dragging him toward the TV room. "And pass the popcorn. This is family night."
As the two elders disappeared down the hall — still bickering, but fondly — Michelangelo turned to his alternate self and the others.
"...So. What was that about?"
Mikey grinned. "Oh, that? That’s just our dads."
Michelangelo blinked. "Dads? Plural?"
Leo nodded, leaning on his katanas. "Yeah. See… it’s a long story. Draxum used Splinter’s DNA to create us — we were supposed to be an army of mutants to destroy humanity and protect the Yōkai. But…we didn't become evil or bad, And Splinter? He wasn’t always a rat. He was a movie star. A Battle Nexus champion. Lou Jitsu."
Michelangelo’s jaw dropped. "Wait… WHAT?!"
Raph shrugged. "Yeah. We were his failed experiments. Now we’re his sons. It’s weird. But we’re cool with it."
"Long story," Donnie added. "We’ll explain more later. Over pizza. And possibly a montage."
"Anyway," Mikey said, slinging an arm around his alternate self, "how about we give you a tour of New York City? Bet it’s way different from yours!"
"Oh yeah!" Michelangelo grinned, eyes sparkling. "I love that idea!"
"Then let’s roll!" Leo said, already heading for the lair’s exit. "We’ve got so much to show you."
The group followed — Donnie adjusting his Battle Shells, Raph cracking his knuckles, April texting on her phone, Draxum grumbling behind them, and Splinter waving from the couch with a bowl of popcorn.
They walked the tunnels, pushed open the manhole, and emerged onto the surface.
And there it was.
New York City.
But not his New York.
The skyline was taller, wilder — its still new York but different They stood on the Brooklyn Bridge, the city stretching before them like a living comic book.
Michelangelo stepped forward, breathless. "Whoa…"
"Welcome," Leo said, arms wide, "to our New York."
Michelangelo turned to Mikey. "So… since you’re a version of me… you’ve got brothers too, right?"
"Of course!" Mikey said, gesturing to the others.
Leo smirked. "I prefer 'chill and effective.'"
Michelangelo smiled softly. "Yeah… I’ve got my own brothers too. Back in my dimension. Raph, Donnie, Leo… they’re probably wondering where I am. Worrying…"
Raph tilted his head. "You’re not… scared? I mean, you’re gone. They don’t know where you are. They might be tearing the city apart looking for you."
Michelangelo paused. Then nodded. "Yeah. They are worried. I know they are." He looked out over the skyline. "But… I also know them. And I know they won’t stop. They’ll find a way. They’ll come for me. They always do."
He turned back, smiling. "So yeah, they’re out there… but I’m here. And right now? That’s okay. This is incredible. A whole other world. Another version of me. Of you guys. How is that not awesome?"
Leo smirked. "He’s got a point."
Raph chuckled. "Yeah. That's true."
April looked up from her phone. "Oh! I just texted Cassandra about this."
Michelangelo blinked. "Wait… who’s Cassandra?"
April smiled. "My friend and Casey mom."
Casey cleared his throat, suddenly looking away. "...Well. Technically, she’s my mom. From a different timeline."
Michelangelo froze. "...Wait. What?"
Casey waved a hand. "Oh, it’s a long story. Involves time travel, a future version of leo, the world about to be destroy by the kraang… y’know. stuff. Don’t worry. I’ll explain it… someday."
Michelangelo stared. Then slowly grinned. "You know what? In my world, we’ve got Shredder, Krang, and mutant monsters. But this? This is next-level weird. And I love it."
Mikey punched his shoulder. "Told ya! This dimension’s rad!"
As they started walking across the bridge, Michelangelo hung back for a moment, taking it all in.
The lights. The sounds. The energy.
He thought about the past year — the peace, the boredom, the quiet that had eaten at him.
And now?
Now he was here.
In a world where magic was real.
Where his brothers was different.
Where he was different — wilder, bolder, cooler.
And for the first time in a long time…
He didn’t feel lost.
He felt found.
Man," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face, "this feels… amazing. After a whole year of nothing… I think I’m gonna like this dimension."
Mikey caught up, nudging him. "What’s up, bro? You look like you just won the lottery."
Michelangelo laughed. "I kinda feel like I did."
Leo joined them, staring out at the city. "Yeah. It’s not perfect. It’s loud. It’s messy. But it’s ours."
Michelangelo nodded, watching the skyline glow against the night.
"...I think I’m gonna like it here."
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘New York City – 2012 Timeline Night. A quiet alley, slick with rain.⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
The cracked T-Phone lies in a puddle, screen flickering weakly. Raindrops patter against its shattered surface.
Then — footsteps.
Three figures emerge from the shadows.
Leonardo. Donatello. Raphael.
They stop dead.
Donnie’s eyes lock onto the device. His breath catches.
"...No."
He rushes forward, dropping to one knee, scooping up the T-Phone with trembling hands.
"Mikey’s T-Phone…" he whispers. "But… it’s broken. And it’s here… but he’s not."
Raph scans the alley — the damp walls, the empty fire escape, the strange scorch marks on the ground. "Where is he?! Mikey! MIKEY!"
Leo kneels beside Donnie, voice tight. "Did he drop it? Did someone take it? What happened here?!"
Donnie frantically taps the screen. then nothing happened.
Leo stared at the cracked screen, Mikey’s final scream still echoing in his mind.
"...Wait," Donnie said slowly, turning to Leo. "Didn’t Mikey say something before the call cut out?"
Leo’s eyes widened.
He remembered.
Not just the scream. Not just the panic.
But the words.
"Wait…" he whispered, his breath catching. "Mikey… he said something else."
Donnie and Raph turned to him, frozen.
Leo’s voice was quiet, haunted. "Before the call cut out… he said,
:"Wake up, dudes! You are not gonna believe this! I found something — like, huge! It’s a portal! But not like the ones we’ve seen! It’s all glitchy and angry and… kinda cool? I think it’s —"
Then — silence.
Donnie looked up. "He saw it. He called us… and then it took him."
Leo’s fists clenched. "He found a portal… and he was trying to warn us."
Raph kicked the wall, fury and fear twisting in his voice. "So let me get this straight — Mikey finds some freaky portal, calls for help, and then — poof — he’s gone? Vanished? Not a trace?!"
He turned to the others, voice breaking. "We don’t even know where the hell he is!"
Leo closed his eyes. "He was alone. Scared. And he called me… and I didn’t answer in time."
Raph stepped forward, grabbing Leo’s shoulder — not in anger, but in solidarity.
"Hey. Don’t you dare go there," he growled. "This isn’t on you. This isn’t on any of us. It’s on whatever thing took him. And we’re gonna make it pay."
Donnie nodded. "He’s out there. Maybe hurt. Maybe trapped. But he’s alive. I can still feel the residual energy — faint, but there. If he crossed dimensions… then we can follow."
Leo opened his eyes — now burning with resolve.
"Then we don’t stop," he said, voice low and firm. "We don’t rest. We don’t sleep. We find that portal. We track that signal. And we bring our brother home."
Leo stares at the spot where the portal must’ve opened. His voice is quiet — raw. "He was calling for us… and we weren’t there."
Leo stands, gripping the hilt of his sword. "No matter where he is. No matter what dimension. No matter how far. We will bring him home."
Raph wipes rain from his face — and for a second, it looks like he might be crying. "You better be okay, little brother… or I swear, when I find you, I’m gonna strangle you myself."
Donnie looks up at the sky — as if staring through layers of reality. "Hang on, Mikey. We’re coming."
And in the silence that follows, the T-Phone gives one final, faint beep.
Then goes dark.