"We need to kick it into high gear. If we're going to take down Shredder, our skills need to be at the best they've ever been," Leonardo says. His team is gathered around him, stoic and alert to his every word. He leans over the kitchen table and pats his notebook. "I've gone through every possible scenario I can think of and have come out with a plan that will work no matter what gets thrown our way."

"I sure hope you have," Raphael says as he braces his elbows against the tabletop, a teasing glint in his eye. "You've been so out of your shell about it for weeks, that thing had better be worth it."

There's a snicker from Michelangelo, but Leonardo isn't deterred. "It's got enough strategy to give us shape, but enough flexibility to let us change things. It's as Master Splinter says," he continues. "No plan ever survives contact with the enemy. It is how you react to the unexpected that will determine if we succeed." There are a few nods of approval. Leonardo rests his attention on Sarina. "Sarina, I want you to be involved in the fight."

Her eyes flash as everyone's heads turn to face her. "Me?" she repeats. "You think that I could be of assistance?"

"Definitely. You're a bit of a dark horse. As far as we know, nobody in the Foot Clan knows that you exist, which makes you our secret weapon."

She gasps and her posture becomes impeccably straighter as she clasps her hands together. "You're right! I could help change the tide of battle and give you an advantage!" She perches her hands over her mouth in a triangle, focusing her gaze on the scratches on the table. "I would need to eliminate any chance of using up my power supply...and practice would be necessary, but with some work—"

"I'll help you with that," Donatello says, reaching over and resting his hand on her arm. He smiles a little, a gleam in his eye. "We can start working today. I've already got so many ideas!"

"Me too!" she says with a delighted giggle, taking his hand and squeezing it between hers. "Imagine a battle suit, with...with rocket boots!"

"That's what I was thinking!"

"You are always one step ahead of me, Donatello." She leans closer and her eyelashes flutter, her free hand drifting to his chin and brushing it. "I love that."

He dares to get closer, their noses nearly touching. "Well, I love—"

"Okay, you two, focus," Destiny says, making their heads snap towards her. The wolf-girl points back to Leonardo as the blue-masked turtle clears his throat and the intelligent pair pulls away from one another, faint blushes on their cheeks.

Leonardo squares his shoulders. "Another thing," he says, "Destiny, you need to be flying before we fight, so we'll base our timeline on your ability."

She lets out a low whistle. "Wow, no pressure." Her wings flap, knocking over a coffee can behind her, and she jumps at the resulting crash. She lets out a long, irritated sigh as Michelangelo snorts with laughter. She looks at him. "Maybe instead of laughing at everything, Mikey, you could give some input?"

Michelangelo hooks his hands in front of him as his nonchalant smile fades away. "Okay, I will. I love this plan. I love everything about this plan. But..." He pauses, then points his fingers outwards and taps them on the table. "I think we need more muscle."

"What? Where?" Leonardo asks. He flips open the notebook, easily finding a mapped out diagram of Shredder's lair and the surrounding area. "There's already eight of us, including Splinter, taking on Shredder and..." He stops to double check his numbers, tapping them out on his fingertips and mouthing along before saying, "six of his goons. Shredder will think that he's got us outnumbered since he doesn't know about Sarina, so we've got the element of surprise too."

"Okay, so that makes the field even," Michelangelo says. He pulls the notebook closer to him and points. "But what if we had a little extra? Like...Diaval?" He slowly looks to Destiny as a wicked smirk lifts his face. "He's not good with close combat, but those arrows? He'd be our own personal sniper!"

They fall silent and stare down at the page, contemplating. Destiny's tail starts to wag and she nods, smiling a little at Michelangelo. "That's a good idea," she says. "Leo, we already lost April because of her ankle. Think about it."

The blue-masked turtle looks over his plan, a low hum resonating from his chest, and he nods. "I can make it work. Des, you can call him and let him know about the fight when we get closer to knowing when we're going to launch." She nods and he flips the notebook closed. "We'll talk in more detail later. What's important right now?"

"Patrols need to involve supply recovery," Donatello says immediately. "If Sarina's going to get a battle suit, we're gonna need something to work with."

"That's easy," Raphael says. "Just make a shopping list and we'll make sure we get the stuff."

"I need to start flying," Destiny reiterates. She flaps her wings yet again but stops it in time to not knock anything over. "I've fledged. I'm ready."

"Okay, I'll help you with that," Leonardo says. He eyes his brothers. "You guys can handle patrols and material errands?"

"You insult us, bro," Michelangelo says with a laugh. "That's child's play."

"Yeah, don't worry!" Donatello agrees. "We're totally capable."

"Alright," Leonardo says. "Then let's get to work."

The teens stand and split off, filing from the kitchen in near silence. Raphael lingers behind while Leonardo stares at his notebook, bottom lip snagged in his teeth. The red-masked turtle lets out a small grunt and wanders closer, reaching out to slug his brother's arm.

"Hey!" Leonardo startles.

"Perk up, man, this'll work," Raphael says, his expression dead set with seriousness. He crosses his burly arms over his chest. "Sure, it's Shredder and he's wicked powerful, but you've worked hard and we've trained even harder our entire lives. This is our moment."

Leonardo sighs, propping his head on his hand, and Raphael is struck by how young and old he looks at the same time. Leonardo's eyes are creased with exhaustion and his back is hunched with the weight of responsibility, yet the ocean blue colour is alive with youth and his body is strong, solid, muscled and toughened by years of blood, sweat, and tears.

There is nobody else on this planet who Raphael would trust more to lead him into battle.

"I just want this to be over, Raph." Leonardo's voice is a whispered wish to the world, a secret being told, a plea.

Raphael's face softens and he settles down next to his older brother, wrapping an arm around his shell and leaning against him, shoulder to shoulder. They linger in silence, heartbeats and breaths and pumping blood; sounds that could very well be silenced within a month. They are sixteen, merely children in the eyes of many, but they have been forced into manhood by the cards of fate. Raphael is ready to deal his hand. He can only hope that his family is as ready as he is.

He heaves another long, taxing breath. "Me too, brother. Me too," he murmurs.