Anton turned his head to look at George, visibly surprised. He hadn't expected George, on behalf of the New York Police Department, to extend an invitation to the turtles to join the task force.
From George's perspective, however, this was a logical step and possibly the best way forward for the police.
In recent times, a wave of enemies and extraordinary incidents had thrown New York into chaos. The NYPD task force, originally established to combat underground criminal activity and gangs, now faced challenges far beyond its scope.
Since the Lizard incident, the task force had struggled not only with its operational effectiveness but also with morale. Ordinary criminals were one thing, and the task force could boast some solid victories in that regard.
But when it came to abnormal threats—like the Green Goblin or Shredder, whose armored suits made them nearly invincible—it was a different story.
And then there were the appearances of creatures like the Lizard and the turtles. George couldn't shake the nagging thought: what if, in the future, they faced a "rhino man" or even an "ant man"?
Who could predict when Batman or Spider-Man might stop showing up to help?
These extraordinary individuals operated on a level that the NYPD's understanding of criminals simply didn't encompass.
The task force's equipment was already the best George could manage, but it was proving nearly useless against superpowered foes. Without Batman's regular interventions, George knew he would've been "forced to pick and choose" between impossible crises long ago.
The idea of inviting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to join the task force may have been a sudden thought, but George found himself taking it seriously.
He knew Batman was an independent force, impossible to control, and there was no chance of recruiting him into the NYPD.
Spider-Man was another story—likely a high school student with more than enough to juggle between saving lives and finishing homework.
As for Venom? His appearance alone was terrifying enough to cause mass panic; he was out of the question.
But the turtles?
They seemed like the perfect candidates. George admired their determination and strength, which had been on full display when they faced Shredder.
Though this was only his second time meeting them, he could see their conviction and decency.
"I won't make decisions for them," Anton said after a moment of thought. His tone was firm but measured. "But I don't think they'd refuse your offer."
The turtles had spent their entire lives hidden away in the dark, dirty sewers. Their limited interactions with humans and their desire to experience the world openly were feelings few could truly understand.
Their existence was one of hiding—emerging only during Halloween to blend in as "costumed citizens."
While they may have outwardly accepted this life in the original narrative, it didn't mean it was the life they truly wanted.
They must have dreamed of it—standing under the sun, walking freely on bustling streets, and meeting the gaze of passersby. Whether those looks held curiosity, surprise, or even contempt didn't matter.
For a normal person, given the choice, who would willingly spend their life in darkness, never seeing the light of day?
"And also..." Anton continued, his tone shifting thoughtfully. "Even if they agree, you'll still need to convince someone else. Although, I don't think he'll be much of an obstacle."
"Who?" George asked, puzzled.
"A mouse," Anton replied matter-of-factly. "When the battle is over, you'll meet him."
A mouse?
George's mind reeled. Another rat-man?
He felt a sudden buzzing in his brain, as though the bizarre ideas he had been entertaining were about to be realized.
Meanwhile, the battle between the turtles and Shredder reached its peak intensity.
The turtles seemed to be putting every ounce of strength into the fight, as if drawing on the energy they'd had as children. They used every technique they had ever learned, determined to bring Shredder down.
But Shredder wasn't easy prey. His samurai armor, while bulky, did nothing to slow his swift, precise movements.
The blades on his arms were equipped with magnetic devices, allowing him to hurl them like boomerangs and recall them effortlessly. His relentless and versatile fighting style kept the turtles on their toes.
Finally, however, the turtles discovered the armor's weak points: the joints. By targeting these areas, they could damage or jam the armor's internal transmission system.
Leonardo struck first, driving his katana into the joint at Shredder's knee, locking the limb in place.
Raphael leapt onto Shredder's back, plunging his twin sai into the joints of Shredder's shoulders, immobilizing his arms.
Meanwhile, Donatello and Michelangelo simultaneously attacked the armor's lower sides, their strikes disrupting the transmission system further.
Boom!
Shredder was completely restrained.
"Just a few turtles!" Shredder snarled, his fists clenching as he fought against his captors.
With a violent twist of his body, he managed to throw all four turtles off him. But the strain on his armor was evident.
Click, click, click!
The sounds of cracking and grinding echoed as the joints of the samurai armor buckled. Cracks spread across its surface, and the internal mechanisms faltered, drastically slowing Shredder's movements.
Though hindered, Shredder refused to acknowledge his weakened state. Instead, he shifted his focus to Batman, who stood nearby, calmly observing the fight.
"Now you!" Shredder growled, a twisted smirk spreading beneath his helmet.
The floor beneath him suddenly gave way with a boom, creating a deep pit surrounded by spiderweb-like cracks that spread outward.
The turtles, momentarily stunned by the dramatic destruction, quickly recovered.
But instead of worrying, they exchanged glances and began shaking their heads in mock sympathy for Shredder.
"Why couldn't he just stick to fighting us?" Raphael muttered, half-amused, half-exasperated.
"Seriously," Michelangelo added with a snicker. "He just had to go pick a fight with him."
Even Leonardo sighed. "If he'd been at full strength, it might've made sense. But with his armor half-destroyed? He's only asking for trouble now."
The turtles couldn't help but pity Shredder.
They watched as Shredder launched himself into the air, his feet barely touching the ground.
As he ascended, the scattered blades on the floor snapped back into place on his armored arms. With immense force, he swung them downward, aiming directly at Batman, who stood beside George.
George's expression shifted in alarm, but Batman remained perfectly still, showing no intention of dodging or retreating.
George, however, couldn't help but widen his eyes in disbelief. Shredder descended with the ferocity of a boulder tumbling down a mountainside, determined to crush everything in his path.
The air screamed as Shredder's blades cut through it, accompanied by his powerful, rage-filled shout. The combination of sound and fury seemed to cast an invisible net over everyone present—George, the four turtles, the task force members, and even Anton, who stood firm as Batman.
At the critical moment, Anton shifted his stance, clenching his fist tightly. With precise timing, he sidestepped Shredder's attack, letting the powerful wind from the swinging blades brush past him.
Then, targeting the vulnerable connection between Shredder's helmet and his upper body armor—his neck—Anton unleashed a devastating punch.
Boom!
The force of the punch seemed to ripple through the air itself, striking Shredder squarely at the exposed joint.
Crack! Crack!
A sickening sound of bone dislocating echoed through the room, unmistakable to everyone present.
Shredder, encased in his samurai armor, flew sideways like a ragdoll. His body smashed through the wall of the hall, sending debris and shattered bricks scattering everywhere.
The room fell into an eerie silence.
No one moved. No one spoke.
The aftermath of Anton's single, decisive blow left everyone stunned, frozen in place as they processed what had just happened.
….
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