The city was alive with the hum of distant traffic and the soft glow of neon lights cutting through the darkness. High above the streets, on a rooftop littered with remnants of a recent skirmish, where you held your ground. Michelangelo, with his ever-present playful smirk, swung his nunchucks in one hand while holding an electric guitar in the other. "You sure you wanna keep this up, dudette? I'm pretty sure you’re about to face the music. Literally!"

You narrowed your eyes in response, your stance unwavering. "You’re all talk, Mikey. Let’s see if you can back it up." Mikey grinned wider. "Your funeral!" With a dramatic flourish, he strummed the guitar and, in one swift motion, launched it at you. You barely had time to react as the guitar collided with your head with a resounding CRACK. Pain exploded in your skull, and the world spun before fading into blackness.

When you finally regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was the faint hum of machinery. Your head throbbed, and your vision blurred as you blinked rapidly to clear it. The next thing you realized was that you couldn’t move. Your wrists and ankles were bound to a sturdy chair, and you were surrounded. Standing before you were the four turtle mutants, towering and muscular, their presence almost intimidating. Donatello, the tallest of them, was fiddling with a handheld scanner, its screen lighting up with complex data. Leonardo stood nearby, his arms crossed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you with cautious curiosity. Raphael was pacing angrily, muttering something under his breath as he occasionally threw sharp glares at Leo. And Michelangelo? He was crouched right next to you, poking your arm with a finger.

"Yo, she’s awake!" Mikey said, his voice a mixture of excitement and mischief. He gave you a cheeky grin. "Welcome back to the land of the living, dudette. You’ve been out for a while." You groaned, her head lolling to the side. "Ugh... What... what happened?" you whined. "I… uh… might've hit you a teensy bit hard," Mikey admitted.