"There's nothing he can do!" Jake argued earnestly.

Driving the van, Matt continued to look unimpressed. "He could have the others kill you," he pointed out calmly.

"Would you do it? If you had to...? Kill me?"

Matt didn't blink. "Maybe. If I had no choice."

Jake preferred to pretend that hadn't been the answer. "It's the right thing to do. Just let her go!"

In the back of the van, where Jake and Matt's conversation was inaudible thanks to the noise of the engine, some more masked Foot ninja sat in a row along the bench seats. April lay along their laps, clutched tightly, still with her wrists and ankles tied and her mouth taped.

Her eyes were closed, but even though she was largely spared the buffeting caused by the vehicle's rickety suspension, April wasn't asleep. With no hope of escape, and little chance of rescue, she was just trying to conserve her energy... For what, she didn't know, she just couldn't bring herself to totally give up.

The conversation in the cab continued. "Yeah, I know you got yourself a little crush on Miss O'Neil back there," said Matt. "Everybody knows that... Fine, so long as you don't let it make you do something stupid."

"Or something smart, for the first time in my life."

"Seriously," said Matt, exasperated, "Sorry to break this to you, but we're the Foot. We won't be saving the day, and you're not gonna get the girl... Why is she worth the risk? Is it just the pretty face...? Is it the career woman thing...? The sassy put downs...? The tight leather...? All those things...? What?" He paused for a moment. "Listen to me," he said, calmer. "You obey orders... That's how the Foot works. You wanted to join! More than I ever did!"

"Things were different then."

"Yeah... Simpler. Now they're more complicated. Deal with it."

***

There were actually so many rats that their numbers became a disadvantage - They got in each other's way. That was the Turtles' only edge, and it gave them time to seek higher ground. The four of them leaped onto barrels and took a look around, minds fertile for any stratagem, anything they could use against their overwhelming enemy.

The rats milled around them, apparently getting up the courage for a sustained assault. The Turtles looked at each other, aware they might only have seconds before the rats enveloped them all.

Whiskers watched helplessly, the rats having left him a little island to stand helplessly in. Had the Rat King spared him deliberately, or did the rats innately know him for one of themselves...? Who knew...?

He felt strange. He opened his mouth to try to call out to the Turtles. Was he trying to call out some reassurance, some kind of comradely defiance... He didn't know. He was finding it more and more difficult to form words, even to reconcile the concepts behind them. Bringing a hand up, he saw the claws shrinking back, the fingers becoming gradually cruder in shape again, de-evolving before his eyes.

The Rat King walked forward, his servants making way and closing up again behind him as he passed. Bryan Bryant's stolen face, half-hidden in the shadow of the wide-brimmed hat, was fixed fiercely in a savage leer.

"Now, Turtles... No more delays... No more cheating... This time, you die...!"

Leonardo turned to Donatello. "Donny... Um, now..."

Donatello had the device from his belt in his hand before Leo finished talking, and quickly activated it.

***

The Turtles' truck, waiting near the junkyard, was quiet and still. Till suddenly something inside made it tremble and rock from side to side. The doors opened violently and-

***

-Before anyone in the junkyard knew what was happening, all hell broke loose. The rats turned to face a new aggressor, and got the shock of their lives... Quite literally. They broke through the gate. They swarmed over the walls. Some of them hovered in the air...

"Yeah... I made some of them fly...!" yelled Donatello smugly.

"What do you call these things again...?" asked Leonardo, and Donatello smiled proudly.

"Mousers!"

The robots attacked the rats ferociously, delivering electric shocks that left the creatures prone with their legs in the air. Non-lethal electric shocks, Donatello had seen to that. The rats regrouped and counter-attacked, and many Mousers disappeared under piles of the rodents as they tried to overwhelm with their superior numbers - Where that happened, the Mouser in question would become silent and still, before a brief blinding flash of light accompanied a flurry of rats flying through the air and the Mouser re-joined the melee.

The Rat King saw quickly what was happening, and his eyes locked with Leonardo's. Two generals sizing each other up. Then, finally, the Rat King gave a smile. Leo didn't like the look of that.

***

The Foot's stolen van drew up at a nondescript warehouse in a very shady neighborhood, and Jake and Matt clambered out of the cab. "You sure this is the place?"

"I'm sure," Matt confirmed. The rear doors opened, and he didn't let their fellow Foot ninja rest for a moment. "OK, fellas, this is gonna be home for a while. Let's get set up."

Shifting into position with some difficulty, impeded by her wrists and ankles still being bound, April peered warily out of the back of the van. She barely got a glimpse of their new surroundings before one of the Foot ninja slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her duct-tape muffled protest, and marched off toward the entrance to the warehouse. She raised her head as she was borne away, and shot a look of both appeal and accusation at Jake.

Matt cast a glance at his friend, disappointed but not surprised to see his jaw clenching and unclenching. Conscience still troubling him. He didn't expect one little pep talk to get rid of that right away, but it really was something he had to lose. Or it might be the death of both of them.

***

Outside the yard, understandably unnoticed by those inside, a cavalcade of police cars had drawn up. Chief Sterns got out as his people hurriedly took up their positions. Getting out of another car, held by cops, Irma and Todd watched apprehensively.

Sterns reached back inside the car and pulled out another remote control, just like Donatello's...

***

The Mousers had won. The few rats that were still conscious were retreating from the punishing shocks and it looked like the day was theirs. Till suddenly they all stopped. The lights in front went out, their mechanical limbs stopped moving and one by one they all fell silent.

Donatello frantically manipulated every control on his device, but none had any effect. In answer to Leonardo's questioning look, he shrugged.

The Rat King was ready. Erupting into action, he attacked the Turtles furiously, knocking each one off their raised platforms and following up with a lightning fast series of moves that brought them lower still. All the knowledge of every Rat King of the past, coupled with Master Splinter's, went into an attack the Turtles just couldn't resist...

The Turtles were at his mercy. He didn't have any. He stood ready to deliver the final attack that would finish them off. All four of them.

He stopped, and turned to view the new arrival slowly clambering up out of the tunnel.

Splinter.

Four pairs of Turtle eyes widened as one, and the brothers stared at their returned sensei in awe. Splinter spared them only a brief glance, before his attention turned back to the Rat King.

"You...!" the Rat King got out, hoarsely, as if he had no breath left. "How is it possible...?"

"You were careless," Splinter said calmly, moving toward him. The Rat King did not retreat. Though he was shocked by the return of his former servant, he did not actually fear him. After all, he had innate control over all rats.

Curiosity took hold. He wanted to know how...

"I lost everything," Splinter continued, addressing the unspoken question. "Even control of my own mind. In the end, there was nothing I could do to resist your power. So that is what I did. I did nothing..."

"What...?" the Rat King sneered.

"I surrendered completely. To the elements themselves. I let myself fall, so I might have a hope of rising again. I had faith that the forces opposed to you would not let me die..."

"I lost sight of you... How was that possible...?"

"It is your power, not mine. You must ask yourself why. Perhaps your blindness was a result of your pride. My act of self-will was impossible, according to you. So, I became invisible..."

"Or perhaps it is a result of the mutagen that changed you..." A slight movement of Splinter's head seemed to concede the possibility, as the Rat King came forward to meet him. "Either way, it does not matter. You cannot fail to obey me if I will it. It is an impossibility..."

The two of them stood there for what seemed like an hour in a titanic battle of mental power. Splinter held his ground.

"There cannot be two Rat Kings!" the definite article shouted, flecks of spittle flying from Bryan Bryant's mouth.

"No," Splinter agreed. "There cannot."

In his frustration the Rat King abandoned the battle of wills and fell back on cruder methods. He leaned over Splinter and said in a low voice, as Splinter reached into the folds of his kimono-

"Sleep..."

-Splinter produced the small shaving mirror and held it out so that the Rat King found himself staring into his own eyes at the critical moment of influence. He threw up his hands and staggered back. Splinter and the Turtles watched as the Rat King fell over, before fighting his way back to his feet. "No...! What have you done...?"

"I have done nothing," said Splinter. "You have too much power to safely remain in one being. I take it only so it can be spread more evenly." As the Rat King retreated Splinter advanced. "I free all those whom you have held in your power. Let them control their own destinies..."

"No..!" The Rat King could feel his power dwindling, like it was slipping through his fingers, unable to stop it. A process of degradation, of simplification, that grew in intensity the more he tried to stop it.

"It is the natural order of things. The return to simpler forms. Do not resist it, if you want to keep some piece of yourself intact," Splinter urged. "I do not wish your destruction." Oblivious to his words, the Rat King summoned up what was left of his failing strength and retreated from the yard, out onto the vast sea of garbage. Blind and deaf to everything except the basic primal urge to flee.

The rats gathered round Splinter, looking up to him. He looked at them benignly. "Do not look to me. You are your own masters now..." he told them, and they started to scatter. Out through the gates, into the tunnel, off in all directions. Soon the rats were all gone.

Raphael stepped forward. "Let's get after him!"

Splinter closed his eyes patiently. "No... That will not be necessary."

"Does that make Splinter king of the rats now...?" Donatello mused.

Leonardo shook his head. "No... They don't need one."

Michelangelo called them over. "Hey, guys..." Whiskers was slumped on the ground, breathing rapidly but shallowly. "I really think there's something wrong with Whisk..." None of them noticed as Splinter slipped quietly out of the yard.

***

Jake and Matt stood together outside the warehouse. "You got any smokes...?" Jake's tone betrayed his nervousness, and Matt's answering look was quietly amused.

"I don't smoke."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought..."

"Neither do you. In fact, I've never seen you smoke."

"Yeah. Figured this was a good time to start." They both laughed. It was a welcome relief of the awkwardness that had built up during the journey.

"Look," said Matt. "Just stay calm, do your duty, forget the girl, you'll be fine. We'll all be fine." Jake looked for a moment like he planned to argue, but finally he found himself nodding.

The two of them went inside the building. Four other Foot ninja sat around a table playing cards, their prisoner perched on a packing crate a short distance away. Security around April was a lot less rigorous than at the workshop, but with her hands and feet tied escape wasn't really an option. She watched them warily, then shifted her gaze to Matt and Jake as they approached.

Like the soldier he sort of was, Matt took in every detail of the vast space but April noticed that Jake didn't even glance in her direction. He awkwardly sat with the others, declining their offer to cut him in on the game.

Matt approached her. "You OK...?" he asked casually.

"What do you care?"

It was the first time April had spoken since they had removed the tape from her mouth, and he guessed she was still annoyed after they had untied her hands from behind her and then, to her dismay, immediately retied them in front. "Sorry," he had said at the time. "But after your little display of pugilism, your hands are staying tied." Best he could do, and meant as a kindness, but Matt supposed she couldn't really be expected to see it that way.

"I don't care," he said harshly, as if to belittle the scant evidence of his merciful nature. "But while I'm responsible for you, I don't want things to be any worse for you than they have to be."

"Reeeally...?" she asked, eyes directed at the ceiling far above. "Thanks... I suppose you'd let me go if it was up to you... Yadda yadda."

"Doesn't matter. It's not up to me."

"Yeah, I figured... The mighty Freddy. And where do you suppose he is right now?"

"He'll be here."

April was pretty sure she caught a number of conflicting feelings from Matt on that subject, but weary resignation seemed to come out on top. Oh, what the hell, what did she have to lose? "You know what's happened, right...?" she snapped, leaning forward. "There's no way Freddy can beat the Turtles... So why not-?"

"-In that case," said Matt, starting to reconsider his decision to take the tape off her mouth, "You'd still be our prisoner. Don't get any ideas. Just because I'm not like Freddy doesn't mean I'm not loyal." He turned away, a little, just a little, shame-faced. "I'm sorry about how you've been treated," he said. "For what it's worth."

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Matt..." April held up her bound hands, then let them slap back down onto her lap. "Not that all that isn't appreciated, just don't expect an invite to my next birthday party, that's all." With his back turned, she tried to loosen the rope around her wrists, flinching as the rough hemp chafed against her skin, even through the rigid cuffs of her leather jacket. It felt like an age since the Foot had first taken her prisoner, and she really was beyond sick of being tied up.

"They won't find us, if that's what you're counting on," he said wearily, turning back to her. "Sorry, but it's true."

"You root for your team, Matt, and I'll root for mine," April replied, and shifted position uncomfortably on the crate as he turned and walked away. OK... Well done, O'Neil, you're... in just the same predicament you were before... Nicely played. Still, until Freddy showed up there was hope, and she would focus on that.

After a discreet interval, Jake approached. "Uh... Hi."

"Hi yourself, Jake. What's up?"

You want something to drink...? We got water, cola... And there's some pizza... It's cold, but"-

-"Thanks, but no thanks, Jake," April interrupted. "I'll get something soon as I get outta here, OK?" Somehow, she could resist the prospect of awkwardly eating cold pizza with her hands tied.

A long, fairly awkward pause. "OK," he replied, and went back to the others. She came close to saying Thanks as he left, but stopped - Why should I...?

Voices were heard outside and they all looked up to see Freddy arrive - April's heart sank as whatever hopes she had been nursing all evaporated. His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second as he took in the surroundings, then shifted as Matt came over to join him.

"What happened?"

Freddy asked a question of his own instead of answering. "Everything OK here...?"

"Yeah."

Jake joined them, and that raised Freddy's eyebrows slightly. "Uh, what's the plan?" Jake asked.

"Do I ask you what your plans are...?" Freddy mocked. "No." While Freddy's intense gaze was on Jake, Matt took the opportunity to shake his head in warning.

Freddy approached April. "Hello, Miss O'Neil..."

"Hi," April said brightly.

"You're not gagged... How strange." He shot a look at Matt.

"Well, you know," she said cheerfully, "I told them not to take the tape off my mouth, but they couldn't really understand me... because I had tape on my mouth...! So, maybe you should, uh, stop putting tape on my mouth, and these misunderstandings won't happen."

He smiled at that. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting again."

"Hey, don't hurry anything on my account, OK..." April replied, voice as brittle as her smile.

"I got some people on their way who are very anxious to meet you..." Something about the way he said that made her even more uneasy than she was already, and suddenly April didn't feel so much like bantering any more.

Finally, Jake snapped. "OK," he said. "I wanna know. What's happening here...?"

Freddy calmly deigned to answer. "We're waiting."

"For what...?"

Freddy paused for several seconds, while Jake waited for the answer. So did April, though she wasn't sure she really wanted to know... Freddy glanced over at Matt, who shrugged.

"We need something to bargain with," Freddy said, addressing Jake, not like something akin to an equal as with Matt, but like he was a stubborn child refusing to eat his greens. "The Council have sent someone to deal with the fallout from this. Someone high up..."

"He wants a scapegoat," Matt said to Jake, with an annoyed glance at Freddy. Jake was naïve, not stupid.

"They want someone to suffer for this. That's not going to be us, if I can help it. Why else do you think I kept her alive?"

Suffer...?! April really didn't like the sound of that one little bit... Reflexively, she was trying again to free her hands, attempting to loosen the knots with her teeth, but one of the Foot ninja stepped in and made her stop.

Confused, Jake looked to Matt for clarification. His manner detached, Matt shifted his weight. "He hands her over to them, it's a distraction. It buys him a little time."

"It buys us time," Freddy corrected him.

"What'll they do with her?" Jake asked in what Freddy thought was a very bovine manner. Since Freddy was in no rush to answer, Matt stepped in.

"Interrogate. Torture. Execute..." he replied casually, like it