"There are enemies!"
Michelangelo's voice cracked as he shouted, the tension in his tone unmistakable. In the very next second, the four turtles and Splinter moved almost instinctively, tightening their formation as they clustered together, weapons raised, eyes scanning the surroundings.
"Where?" Master Splinter asked, his voice low and serious, his posture already shifting into a defensive stance.
"R-right there…" Mikey stammered, his hand trembling as he pointed toward the high-rise ahead.
All eyes followed his direction.
But there was nothing.
No movement. No presence. No trace of anything unusual.
Raphael snorted, rolling his shoulders as he relaxed slightly. He slid his sai back into place at his waist, clearly unimpressed.
"False alarm," he muttered, fiddling with the handles. "Nice one. Try not to freak us out next time."
"I'm not joking!" Michelangelo shot back immediately, his frustration flaring. He glared at his brothers, clearly offended. "I saw it! A red demon, right by that balcony! It just… disappeared!"
Raphael didn't buy it for a second.
"Yeah, sure," he said with a laugh. "Sounds like you're seeing things again."
That was enough.
Mikey lunged forward, ready to throw hands, his temper finally snapping under the pressure.
"Enough."
Donatello stepped in quickly, placing himself between them before things escalated further. His tone was firm, cutting through the argument with ease.
"Focus," he added, pointing upward. "Look at that guy. The one even Spider-Man is trying to impress. That's who we're here for."
The others followed his gaze.
And just like that, the tension shifted.
—
Across the rooftop, Peter was just as confused.
"Turtle… people? And a giant rat?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to process what he was seeing.
Even for him, this was pushing the limits.
Thanks to his enhanced hearing, he caught fragments of their conversation—words like "follow" and "learn"—and his mind immediately began connecting dots that might not even exist.
He glanced back at Liam, his thoughts spiraling.
So that's it… this guy isn't just powerful—he's got followers.
That changes everything.
A subtle expression crept onto Peter's face, something calculated and deliberate. The realization hit him quickly.
This wasn't just a threat.
It was an opportunity.
Straightening his posture, he stepped forward slightly, his tone turning more formal.
"I owe you my life," Peter said, his voice steady. "If there's anything you need… anything at all… I won't refuse."
He paused, then added with a faint smile, "I might not be the strongest, but I can still be useful."
Liam stared at him for a second.
Then another.
What… is he talking about?
Internally, Liam felt a strange kind of numbness.
He had just been playing a role, throwing on a bit of flair, leaning into the whole "demonic overlord" aesthetic for effect. The Shadow Legion, the transformation, the dramatic entrance—it was all part of the performance.
And now this guy was treating it like a full recruitment pitch.
Did he seriously think this was some kind of organization?
Liam almost laughed.
Still, the way Peter stood there, so confident, so shamelessly offering himself up, made it hard to just dismiss him outright.
If he didn't give him something to do, it would almost feel rude.
"…Hell's Kitchen," Liam said finally, his tone casual. "That place suits you."
Peter blinked.
Then his expression lit up with understanding.
"Got it."
Relief washed over him instantly. He nodded, his gratitude obvious, before stepping back and launching himself off the rooftop. In seconds, he was gone, swinging into the distance without hesitation.
If he had known that the man he was thanking so sincerely was the same butcher who had once humiliated him beyond belief, the reaction would have been… very different.
—
"Tap. Tap. Tap."
No sooner had Peter disappeared than another group dropped onto the rooftop.
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Splinter stepped forward first, bowing respectfully as he introduced himself. His tone was calm but earnest, his words carefully chosen. He spoke of his four sons, their training, their abilities, and their desire to grow stronger.
Then, after laying the groundwork, he made his request clear.
They wanted to follow.
To learn.
To walk the path of the ninja under Liam's guidance.
Liam stared at them.
Again, that same numb feeling returned.
Why… does everyone want to learn this?
These abilities weren't some ancient tradition or sacred art. They were extensions of the Divine Tree's power, things that came naturally to him because of his bloodline.
They weren't meant to be taught.
They weren't even meant to exist in this world.
And yet—
They stood there, eyes filled with expectation.
It was hard to just turn them away.
Originally, Liam had considered gathering forces, building something that could directly challenge the Avengers. But he hadn't even started putting that plan into motion yet.
And now?
People were lining up on their own.
Is this some kind of buy-one-get-one-free deal?
Liam suppressed a sigh.
Still…
If they wanted in, then he would set the terms.
Nothing came for free.
At that moment, his attention shifted slightly, catching movement in the distance. April and her cameraman had been spotted by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and the situation was quickly escalating.
Perfect.
Liam's expression changed subtly, his tone turning solemn as he spoke.
"Where the leaves dance, the fire burns eternal," he said, his voice carrying an almost ceremonial weight. "Its light guides the future… allowing new life to grow. That is the foundation of the ninja way."
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
"If you want to walk this path… then show me your resolve."
Splinter's eyes lit up instantly.
"I understand."
Without hesitation, he turned, signaling to his sons.
They moved as one.
And then—
They jumped.
—
On the ground below, the confrontation was already underway.
"Delete everything you recorded."
Captain Steve stepped forward, his tone firm, his expression serious. The weight of the recent defeat still lingered, and the last thing they needed was for it to be broadcast to the world.
April didn't back down.
She stepped in front of the camera, her posture defiant, her eyes blazing.
"As a journalist, my job is to show the truth," she shot back. "So what if you're superheroes? That doesn't give you the right to bully people."
Hawkeye sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"Captain, just let me handle it," he said casually. "I've dealt with worse."
To him, this wasn't even a situation worth thinking about.
But April didn't flinch.
"You touch that camera, and we'll have a problem," she snapped, her voice sharp.
She wasn't backing down.
Not now.
Tony, meanwhile, approached from the side, a faint smirk returning to his face as he slipped back into familiar territory.
"Let's not make this complicated," he said lightly. "Name your price. A hundred thousand? Two? Three?"
Money solved problems.
It always had.
The cameraman hesitated, his grip tightening slightly as doubt crept in. That kind of money wasn't something he could just ignore.
But April—
She didn't even blink.
"Not happening," she said firmly. "No amount of money."
"This is our work. Our dream."
Tony sighed.
Black Widow, on the other hand, had no patience left.
"So your dream is to tear down superheroes?" she said coldly, pulling two daggers from behind her back. The blades caught the light as she stepped forward slightly.
"If that's the case…"
Her gaze hardened.
"You're about to have a very bad day."
.....
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