Screams. Explosions. The smell of scorched air. Everything was mixed up in the roar of battle. They had broken through the defenses again.

You darted forward, your blade in an arc of light. Leo held the line somewhere to the side, Raph yelled at the team to retreat to the southern flank... And Mikey stood next to you. With concentrated determination in his eyes. His fingers were already glowing - magic was gathering in his palms, chains, flashes, light discharges - he was preparing to attack.

"Now..." he whispered.

And suddenly — silence.

The magic... was gone.

It didn't die down. It didn't dissipate. It was just gone. As if someone had ripped the very essence of it out of him.

"...w-what?.." — He stared at his palms. He spread them apart. Nothing. No flash, no runes. Only skin. Emptiness.

He stepped back. And didn't notice how the zombie Krang fell off the nearest ledge.

"MIKEY!!"

You didn't think - you just rushed forward, the blade cut through air and flesh, the mutant-dead man collapsed at Mikey's feet, cut in half. He didn't even move.

"Why are you standing there?!” You grabbed his shoulder, breathing heavily. — “What happened?!”

He turned around. And there was fear in his eyes.

“I… I don’t know,” he whispered. — “I… It’s just… gone. My magic. It’s gone. I… This has never happened.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him along with you — toward the rocks, toward the shelter. The rock pile was covered in ash, at least you could catch your breath here. You fell behind the shelter, breathing heavily.

He was shaking. You saw his shoulders shaking. His hands were pressed to his chest, as if he was afraid that they were now empty forever.

“Hey,” — you grabbed his face, looking into his eyes.

“Hey! Listen to me. Are you breathing? Are you alive?” He nodded haltingly. — “So we haven’t lost yet."

"But… she doesn’t come back…” he whispered almost like a child. — “She was always there. I felt her as a part of me. And now… it’s empty. Only silence.”

You squeezed his hand.

“Then we’ll find out what’s blocking it.” You turned, looking at the horizon. — “It’s not just like that. They did something. Or… maybe you’re exhausted. Or…”

You looked at him again. — “…or maybe she just hid. So you wouldn’t burn to ashes.”

He looked up. And for a split second, a spark flickered in them. Doubt. Or hope.

“I feel… something. Somewhere nearby. Like a response. But weak, very…” He closed his eyes. — “Like it was pushed out. Or blocked. But not killed.”