Destiny first notices the cloak when it smacks her across the face, blessing her with a face full of Diaval's scent. She steps back from the dangling cloth and bats it from her eyes, staring at the black cloth as it flutters like a foreboding omen.

Her ears perk a little. She doesn't have much in the way of making a new outfit or weapon, but she tried her best to follow Splinter's directions even though she felt lacking in every way. Seeing Diaval's precious cloak hanging helplessly from a tree branch, she can't help but claim it for herself. She brings it down, hooking it over her shoulders and fastening the clasp at her throat. The lingering scent of earl grey tea and spice floods her, soothes her growing anxieties.

She looks down at herself and lets out a quiet laugh. The cloak is long, dragging past her ankles like a child wearing their parent's clothing, but that's to be expected when the true owner is so much taller than you. She takes it off only to fold the material upwards, fashioning it this way and that until she's created a makeshift hood that leaves the hem comfortably above her ankles. She puts it back on and flips the hood over her wild brown curls, shooting a coy look to the nearest tree trunk as she swishes the cloak to and fro like the skirt of a regal ball gown.

She wishes she had a mirror, just to make sure everything looks good. She cut off the bottom half of her tank top, leaving part of her stomach exposed and using the extra fabric to tie her hair out of her eyes. She kept her jeans intact, as with her black sneakers and her uchigatana at her side.

She looks to the sky, the trees towering around her. "I know you said a new weapon," she calls, "but this is all I've got, Sensei."

No one answers, but the hope that Splinter will understand remains. She tucks the hood close to her face, rests her hand on the hilt of her sword, and heads off into the woods with her head held high and her shoulders squared.

For the first stretch, all she does is walk and watch. Leaves rustle in the breeze and birds chirp as they soar by. She frowns to herself. How will she know when she reaches the spirit realm? Will something change?

Another few minutes pass. She slows to a stop, ears perking. The wind has stopped and birds no longer sing, but she can hear the faint babble of running water somewhere nearby. She tilts her nose to the sky but she doesn't smell anything other than the earth around her, and she realizes that the once-orange sky that painted the mellow daytime has faded fast. It's getting dark.

Destiny moves to the nearest tree and starts to climb, slowly but surely. She's sure she's missing something and maybe, above the tree line, she'll see a landmark to move toward.

Branch by branch, she climbs, up and up and up until she finally reaches the sky, only when she emerges from the treetops, the sun has disappeared and the sky has darkened. A sliver of moon hangs above her, surrounded by stars, and she wishes it was fuller so that she could bask in its light.

She looks around as dread sets in; nothing but trees as far as the eye can see and the sky is somehow getting darker, clouds moving in and blotting out the stars with inky storm clouds. She can't even see Talbot's Peak and it should be visible from here. There are a lot of things she should be able to see, but—

An arrow silences her thoughts, lodging in the trunk beside her head, and she's struck with a horrible sense of deja vu. She ducks down, suddenly too exposed without the forest to cover her. Another arrow strikes, narrowly missing her shoulder.

She tries to scramble down the tree but the arrows keep coming from all directions and she's barely able to dodge them without losing her grip, again and again, struggling to keep her hold. She's only halfway down when an arrow comes right for her face and, desperate to avoid it, she hops down to a lower branch. It gives way beneath her feet with a sharp snap and she drops, the ground rushing up to meet her.

She squeezes her eyes shut and changes into her wolf.

Or, she tries to.

The moment she commands herself to transform, she expects the familiar feeling of growing, of being encased in a body so much larger and stronger and yet no less familiar than normal. Instead, a wispy white substance bursts from her chest, taking shape in seconds. She hits the ground and, for a moment, everything goes black.

She wakes to something soft nuzzling her nose and her green eyes snap open. The forest is still dark but a ghostly black wolf stands before her, a halo of white outlining its furry body. Destiny sits bolt upright as the animal watches her and, staring into its eyes, she recognizes her.

After all, they have the same scars.

"I don't..." she breathes. Her wolf cocks her head. "How? Why?"

Her wolf form keeps watching her and, far above their heads, thunder rumbles. There's a crack and a flash of lightning and Destiny's heart flies into her throat, her claws extending as if she could fight the lightning off if it tried to touch her. The wolf just stares, waiting.

Destiny gets to her feet, shaking her shoulders and flexing her hands and toes. She doesn't feel hurt—maybe a little winded, but she's moving and that's enough. Just to test it, she tries to change into her wolf.

Nothing changes, but the ghostly wolf behind her ripples as if washed over with a strong wind. Oh, she thinks, so that's how it is. She isn't sure what it means, not yet.

She slips her uchigatana from its sheath, gripping the handle tight. Its long, curved blade glints in what little light the ghost wolf gives off.

She groans. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she says, looking at the wolf. "And neither do you, because you're me."

The wolf lets out a tiny whine, ears flattening briefly. Destiny nods, sighing with sympathy. She wishes Leonardo were here so he could explain what the heck she's supposed to do. Splinter said something about a spiritual adversary—maybe the archers are part of that?

At least she still has her wolf, even if it's not the method she'd prefer for it.

"Come on, then," she says. "Let's go hunt some assholes."

----------

She doesn't have to hunt for long. She emerges into a small clearing in the trees, a river cutting a blue gash through the stormy woods and, far above her, she hears rustling, mechanical whirring. It's hard to pinpoint, something like an electronic buzz, before red lights appear all around her. Foot bots perch in the trees, insect-like eyes glowing.

"We've got company," she mutters to her ghost wolf.

The bots leap from the tree and Destiny cleaves the first one in two with a strong, sure strike from her blade. It disappears in a cloud of black smoke. She grins and turns to the ghost wolf, thoughts of battle coming forth.

The wolf howls and rushes into the fight the moment the idea crosses her mind, demolishing robot after robot, punches of black smoke popping up with every snap of her jaws. She roars and howls and cleaves heads from shoulders while Destiny stands with her sword up and ready, watching the wolf decimate the spirit Foot, grinning. She's glad that, even if this spirit quest is limiting her abilities, she can still—

An arrow whistles from the trees, nailing the wolf dead in the chest and Destiny lets out a cry of pain. The wolf howls, collapsing as it writhes in agony, and Destiny stumbles to her knees. Before her eyes, the wolf twitches, goes limp, and fades away, melting into nothing more than smoke, and Destiny gasps desperately as she claws at her chest. The pain is there, so real that she can't breathe, but no blood coats her hands, no wound cleaving her skin.

Soft footsteps sound from behind her. She grips her uchigatana and forces herself to turn, her chest still tight and aching, and a familiar face greets her. Her weapon falters in her grip, her mouth falling open.

Diaval stands before her, bow in hand, an arrow strung but not pulled taut, a warning. He stares at her and his pink eyes are cold, far too cold for the man she's come to know. He can't be here. He can't be her spiritual adversary, right?

"How can you watch?" Diaval asks. His voice is rough but smooth, like how he speaks in the visions he injects into the minds of others—more confident, sure. "How can you watch what you're capable of and not be terrified?"

Destiny's knees shake, eyes watering as she forces herself to her feet. Her blade drags against the grass. The pain remains, harsh and sharp like an arrow lodged inches away from her heart. "I won't fight you, Diaval."

"Your wolf is so strong," he says, "but you used her to hurt the turtles. What if you hurt them again?" He tilts his head. "Oh, wait...you already have, haven't you?"

In a flash, he's aimed and shot his arrow, so fast that Destiny doesn't have time to try and dodge. It strikes her between the eyes and there's a blinding pain that sends her back to her knees, sword slipping away. Leonardo's face appears in her mind's eye, staring at her with agony in every fibre of his being, bleeding, broken, all because of her. His pain is always because of her.

"How could he ever forgive you, really?" Diaval asks. "He won't forgive me. Why would he forgive you when you did so much more to him? You almost killed him, Destiny, once with your claws...and another with your words."

She tries to keep the tears at bay even as he forces her to listen to her voice play it all back, telling Leonardo that she loves him and she has to leave. Telling him she loves him but she can't be with him. She loves him but...

Over and over and over again.

Get up, Destiny, she tells herself. Everything feels heavy, too heavy, and there's so much pain, visceral and unending.

"I...had...my reasons!" she gasps. It's right behind her eyes, these memories that won't leave her alone and she doesn't have her wolf to fight back anymore. "It would have been worse if I stayed! What if—"

"Break his arms, break his spirit, then break his heart. You break things, Destiny. You make everything worse, don't you? You want things to be better so badly, but you won't face what you're really feeling. You focus on me because I'm just as broken as you. I'm just something for you to pity."

"No! I wouldn't waste my time with pity, not with you."

He tilts his head a little and, for a second, his expression softens and she sees the Diaval she knows. "How can you be so trusting...and yet not at all?"

Maybe he is her adversary. She wanted someone else to arrive. She had hoped another would appear before her and she'd happily rush into battle, eager to hurt her as much as she had before.

But how can she raise her sword against him?

Above their heads, there's a flash of lightning and a sharp crack of thunder. The light snaps across Diaval's face and, for a moment, his eyes change—the pupils are still slitted, reptilian, but the colour flashes gold. Another enemy's eyes.

Emery's eyes.

Destiny grits her teeth and forces herself back to her feet, hand finding and wrapping around the slender hilt of her weapon. The sky rumbles overhead, pounding deep in her chest like a second heartbeat. Diaval stands and stares at her with pitying eyes, taunting her.

Trust? She's trying to trust. She trusts the turtles; maybe not enough to believe that they could forgive her, that they could have helped her, but she's trying. She is.

And Diaval...she had to trust him. He was all she had, the only chance she had to regain her freedom. It's all so twisted.

"You're my best friend, you know that?" she asks, finally looking Diaval in the eye. His expression twists, lip curling. "At least, I think you are. I've never really had a best friend, not until the turtles. Not until you."

His nostrils flare a little but he doesn't say anything. She sighs, flexing her fingers around the soft leather handle.

"And...you're right," she admits, although it burns her to do so. "About all of it."

His brow furrows. "So you do pity me?"

"Yeah, but you feel the same way for me, don't you? Why else would you help me?"

"Me? Pity you?" he repeats. His face keeps getting harsher, furrowed brow and curled lip, his teeth getting sharper as his voice warps. Destiny closes her eyes and takes in a long breath. "Why would I pity someone so pathetic? So weak? Why would I ever—"

She attacks, her muscles tensing as she braces for impact, waiting for her sword to meet the resistance of flesh, but it clangs as it halts against metal. When she faces her opponent, Emery stares back at her, a brutal machete blocking her sword, the blade double the width of her own.

Emery bares her sharp teeth, letting out a low snarl, and Destiny exhales.

"I knew it," she breathes.

Emery yells and pushes forward, breaking through their stalemate and shoving Destiny back. Destiny flinches as she's forced to block, again and again, horror dawning on her as Emery keeps pushing her, sparks flying as their blades connect, bright pops of light that make Destiny flinch.

The leopard laughs as she keeps advancing, cords of muscle bunching beneath her spotted fur as she fights. "There's no wolf to help you this time, Destiny!" she taunts. "You fight like a child with a stick!"

Destiny grits her teeth, trying to recall the few lessons she's gotten from Leonardo, from Splinter. She has to break away, find an opening and gain the upper hand. Easier said than done. Her heart aches for the wolf that won't come forth, but she's starting to get why the spirits targeted her this way.

When Emery goes to strike again, Destiny hops backwards, narrowly avoiding the machete. As Emery whiffs the blow, Destiny rushes right back in, tucking low and trying to go for her legs. If she can knock her down, slow her mobility—

Emery ditches her blade and pounces, hopping over Destiny's sword like it's a jump rope. Destiny stumbles and, before she can recover, she hits the ground face-first. Destiny screams into the dirt as Emery pins her down, claws digging into her back, hot tongues of fire racing up her skin.

"Just give up. Give up and die already!" Emery hisses. "Wouldn't that be better? Wouldn't that be better than living with everything you've done?"

It burns. It burns so bad and all Destiny can think about is laying on that cold stone floor, surrounded by the enemy, bleeding and aching and dying slowly while they stood around and chatted like it was just another day on the calendar.

Sometimes it would be easier, to just give in, to just...sleep. A dreamless sleep would be nice.

The claws dig in harder, ripping into her, and Destiny bites back the wail of agony in her throat. Stone, cold, wet, bleeding, so much blood and being so tired, head throbbing, nerves twitching, so ready to just return to the darkness when...

Warmth. A cloak that smells like tea, draped over her, both then and now. A stiff pair of arms lifting her gently, rough words whispering of rescue.

She hears the river, so close by, rushing and babbling. She pictures Saskatchewan, the river yanking her beneath the surface, cold and wet and turning her upside down. She sees Oscar's kind, weathered face, his calloused hands, and his big green tractor, leading her to the tiny house that held the answers to her prayers.

She sucks in a deep breath. Emery is still gripping her, claws embedded nice and tight in her muscle. She throws her sword aside and rolls.

They plunge into the river together. She hears Emery let out a yowl of surprise as the water surges around them. For a moment, Destiny lets herself feel the relief of Emery letting go. She opens her eyes and she's moving, pushed by the current, but the water is clear. She can see straight to the bottom.

Emery kicks and flails, struggling to break the surface as the water fights her, and Destiny turns back. She kicks against the current with all the strength she has left, surging forward and taking hold of Emery's ankle right before the leopard breaks through.

Bubbles, a drowning screech of outrage. Destiny holds tight, drags Emery closer, drags her deeper into the water, hands closing around her throat. Emery flails, but Destiny holds on, lets the river carry them both away.

She lets the blows land, kicks and swipes and desperation, bubbles fleeing from Emery's screaming mouth, but no one can hear her. Destiny holds on and stares at her, at the panic growing in her eyes.

Maybe if they both drown, everything that haunts her will die too.

Emery goes still, eyes blank, and her body disappears into a cloud of black smoke.

The river current slows and Destiny's feet touch the bottom. With a final push, she breaks through the surface, sucking in a giant, gasping breath. Above her head, she can see stars blinking through the trees, pale moonlight casting rippling streaks of silver on the water all around her.

She stands, soaking wet, hands aching, lungs sore, but alive. Still alive.