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Leonardo walked amidst a blooming, well-tended garden, his digits running over the flowers and branches that swayed in the wind around him. A neatly curated grass path led him through the natural beauty prospering by the hand of the unseen gardener. Dappled sunlight rolled over his skin as he passed beneath the holed shadows of the trees above. The calming birdsong never relented, only quietening a moment before returning to Leonardo’s hearing in full splendour.
Such a stunning place. And none of it real.
He couldn’t be sure of the time he spent in this realm. It felt like hours, but the astral plane’s concept of time did not synchronise with reality. Maybe hours had rolled past in the real world, but Leonardo’s experience told him to think only minutes had elapsed.
---
He opened his eyes, returning to the world of the flesh.
Standing from the cement floor, Leonardo stretched his limbs. Judging by their stiffness, it had been some time since he travelled to the astral realm. Odd. Perhaps the astral plane was different in this dimension. A pity he had returned empty handed.
His brothers had been busy in his absence. They resided in a large, circular lair, similar to their underground home in New York, before they were forced to move. Concrete stairs three or four steps down encircled the depression of the interior section of their lair. Raphael had been turning it into their training area, setting up wing chun wood dummies, a boxing bag, and a free weights area.
On the opposite side of the lair, light flashed through a doorway leading into another room. Leonardo surmised that was Donatello establishing his new laboratory, bringing in all sorts of computers and engineering machinery to satiate his desire for learning and construction.
Michelangelo, meanwhile, was finishing the final touches on a new common area. A large screen had been attached to the wall, no doubt by Donatello, while a number of smaller screens bordered it. Devices for DVD players, VHS players and gaming consoles huddled beneath them. Michelangelo stood up from pushing a three seater couch in front of the multimedia hub, wiping sweat from his brow.
Thankfully, this home and all the equipment were brand new, legally purchased by Donatello. He had saved quite a nest egg working for Peal Industries and used it to buy this underground lair and the objects that filled it. In New York, everything they had was scavenged or recycled, found through their efforts to keep the city safe or discarded in the storm sewers. It was surreal to live in something that hadn’t been abandoned or disused, and fill it with undamaged items.
Their lair had been unoccupied for some time, so his brothers had been working diligently on cleaning up the place and throwing out the garbage that littered it. Looking around, it seemed they had done an excellent job.
They discussed whether they wanted to live above ground, now that their presence no longer inspired fear in the general populace. In the end, they decided they preferred the isolation they were accustomed to, and chose their new home accordingly.
Michelangelo turned and saw his eldest brother.
“Hey, Leo!” Michelangelo called with a wave, walking over. “You’re back in the land of the living!”
“Wow, this place looks great!” Leonardo said.
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Raphael said, striking the punching bag a few times to ensure its stability. “How’d it go?”
Leonardo ignored the jab. “Not good. I still can’t find Master Splinter.”
Michelangelo’s countenance fell. “Oh.”
“Maybe you ain’t doin’ it right?” Raphael said.
“Feel free to take a look yourself,” Leonardo said.
Raphael scoffed. “You know sittin’ still and meditatin’ into some outer body experience ain’t my strong suit.”
Indeed, Leonardo and Splinter were the only two of the family proficient in the technique of astral projection. It took immense focus and mastery over one’s spirit to leave one’s body and enter the spiritual realm. His brothers trained in it still, but found the concepts difficult to grasp, most of all Raphael.
“Maybe Master Splinter is astral walking in a different place to you?” Michelangelo said.
“The truth is, Mikey, that I don’t know if he’s even astral walking,” Leonardo said. “It just makes sense to me that if we can’t find him physically, and he can’t find us physically, that he would resort to the astral realm, in case we both had the same idea.”
Donatello emerged from the doorway, shifting his goggles to sit on his forehead. “No luck, Leo?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Hey, why don’t you just make that tech that tracks mutant blood again, Don?” Raphael asked as his purple clad brother joined them. “We’d find Master Splinter in no time!”
Donatello shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Raph. Developing that technology in the first place almost doomed us all. I don’t want to risk it falling into the wrong hands again. Besides, it only theoretically works for Master Splinter. He was mutated by the ooze too, but the science behind the radar was based on our – or my – blood. I don’t have a sample of Master Splinter’s blood, so I couldn’t do tests to make sure it could be sensed. Plus, I’d have to start from scratch. I destroyed all of my notes, remember?”
Raphael growled. “We’ll we gotta do somethin’! Who knows where Master Splinter could be? He might be captured like Donnie was! Or worse.”
“Or maybe he isn’t even here yet,” Leonardo said. “Remember, we all arrived here at different times, even though we all teleported together. Donatello’s been here the longest, then you and I turned up about a month later, and then Mikey’s only been here a few days.”
“Don’t forget Karai!” Michelangelo chimed in. “We don’t know where she is either.”
Raphael groaned. “And that still don’t help the problem! What are we supposed to do? Hope Leo gets lucky when he has his little wakin’ dreams? It ain’t like a walkin’, talkin’ rat is gonna stir up a fuss in this city like it would back home!”
Leonardo couldn’t help but sympathise. Searching for his brothers for three months only to come up empty handed time and time again wore away his patience as well. Raphael had even less than he did.
“You know what? Let’s go looking for him.”
Raphael looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Let’s go on patrol. We can set up the rest of the lair later on.”
Donatello stretched. “Sounds good to me! Moving servers and machines for hours really tightens up the muscles.”
“Yeah, a run across the rooftops would give us a good appetite too!” Michelangelo said.
Raphael smiled. “Huh. Can’t say I expected you to say that.”
“We all want to find Master Splinter, Raph,” Leonardo said. “Since my way didn’t work, we might as well try yours.”
Raphael nodded. Leonardo learned to savour the quiet moments where he and his hot headed brother agreed. It was seldom that it happened.
Gathering their weapons, the ninja turtles raced out of their lair and into the black of night.
Such a stunning place. And none of it real.
He couldn’t be sure of the time he spent in this realm. It felt like hours, but the astral plane’s concept of time did not synchronise with reality. Maybe hours had rolled past in the real world, but Leonardo’s experience told him to think only minutes had elapsed.
---
He opened his eyes, returning to the world of the flesh.
Standing from the cement floor, Leonardo stretched his limbs. Judging by their stiffness, it had been some time since he travelled to the astral realm. Odd. Perhaps the astral plane was different in this dimension. A pity he had returned empty handed.
His brothers had been busy in his absence. They resided in a large, circular lair, similar to their underground home in New York, before they were forced to move. Concrete stairs three or four steps down encircled the depression of the interior section of their lair. Raphael had been turning it into their training area, setting up wing chun wood dummies, a boxing bag, and a free weights area.
On the opposite side of the lair, light flashed through a doorway leading into another room. Leonardo surmised that was Donatello establishing his new laboratory, bringing in all sorts of computers and engineering machinery to satiate his desire for learning and construction.
Michelangelo, meanwhile, was finishing the final touches on a new common area. A large screen had been attached to the wall, no doubt by Donatello, while a number of smaller screens bordered it. Devices for DVD players, VHS players and gaming consoles huddled beneath them. Michelangelo stood up from pushing a three seater couch in front of the multimedia hub, wiping sweat from his brow.
Thankfully, this home and all the equipment were brand new, legally purchased by Donatello. He had saved quite a nest egg working for Peal Industries and used it to buy this underground lair and the objects that filled it. In New York, everything they had was scavenged or recycled, found through their efforts to keep the city safe or discarded in the storm sewers. It was surreal to live in something that hadn’t been abandoned or disused, and fill it with undamaged items.
Their lair had been unoccupied for some time, so his brothers had been working diligently on cleaning up the place and throwing out the garbage that littered it. Looking around, it seemed they had done an excellent job.
They discussed whether they wanted to live above ground, now that their presence no longer inspired fear in the general populace. In the end, they decided they preferred the isolation they were accustomed to, and chose their new home accordingly.
Michelangelo turned and saw his eldest brother.
“Hey, Leo!” Michelangelo called with a wave, walking over. “You’re back in the land of the living!”
“Wow, this place looks great!” Leonardo said.
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Raphael said, striking the punching bag a few times to ensure its stability. “How’d it go?”
Leonardo ignored the jab. “Not good. I still can’t find Master Splinter.”
Michelangelo’s countenance fell. “Oh.”
“Maybe you ain’t doin’ it right?” Raphael said.
“Feel free to take a look yourself,” Leonardo said.
Raphael scoffed. “You know sittin’ still and meditatin’ into some outer body experience ain’t my strong suit.”
Indeed, Leonardo and Splinter were the only two of the family proficient in the technique of astral projection. It took immense focus and mastery over one’s spirit to leave one’s body and enter the spiritual realm. His brothers trained in it still, but found the concepts difficult to grasp, most of all Raphael.
“Maybe Master Splinter is astral walking in a different place to you?” Michelangelo said.
“The truth is, Mikey, that I don’t know if he’s even astral walking,” Leonardo said. “It just makes sense to me that if we can’t find him physically, and he can’t find us physically, that he would resort to the astral realm, in case we both had the same idea.”
Donatello emerged from the doorway, shifting his goggles to sit on his forehead. “No luck, Leo?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Hey, why don’t you just make that tech that tracks mutant blood again, Don?” Raphael asked as his purple clad brother joined them. “We’d find Master Splinter in no time!”
Donatello shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Raph. Developing that technology in the first place almost doomed us all. I don’t want to risk it falling into the wrong hands again. Besides, it only theoretically works for Master Splinter. He was mutated by the ooze too, but the science behind the radar was based on our – or my – blood. I don’t have a sample of Master Splinter’s blood, so I couldn’t do tests to make sure it could be sensed. Plus, I’d have to start from scratch. I destroyed all of my notes, remember?”
Raphael growled. “We’ll we gotta do somethin’! Who knows where Master Splinter could be? He might be captured like Donnie was! Or worse.”
“Or maybe he isn’t even here yet,” Leonardo said. “Remember, we all arrived here at different times, even though we all teleported together. Donatello’s been here the longest, then you and I turned up about a month later, and then Mikey’s only been here a few days.”
“Don’t forget Karai!” Michelangelo chimed in. “We don’t know where she is either.”
Raphael groaned. “And that still don’t help the problem! What are we supposed to do? Hope Leo gets lucky when he has his little wakin’ dreams? It ain’t like a walkin’, talkin’ rat is gonna stir up a fuss in this city like it would back home!”
Leonardo couldn’t help but sympathise. Searching for his brothers for three months only to come up empty handed time and time again wore away his patience as well. Raphael had even less than he did.
“You know what? Let’s go looking for him.”
Raphael looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Let’s go on patrol. We can set up the rest of the lair later on.”
Donatello stretched. “Sounds good to me! Moving servers and machines for hours really tightens up the muscles.”
“Yeah, a run across the rooftops would give us a good appetite too!” Michelangelo said.
Raphael smiled. “Huh. Can’t say I expected you to say that.”
“We all want to find Master Splinter, Raph,” Leonardo said. “Since my way didn’t work, we might as well try yours.”
Raphael nodded. Leonardo learned to savour the quiet moments where he and his hot headed brother agreed. It was seldom that it happened.
Gathering their weapons, the ninja turtles raced out of their lair and into the black of night.