The lair was unusually quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a sword. The aftermath of the argument still weighed heavily on each of them, their usual camaraderie replaced by an unspoken distance. Raph sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. His gaze flickered to the others but quickly turned away, as if the weight of the words still lingered. “I don’t know why I even bother,” he muttered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Donnie was at his workbench, fingers tapping idly on his laptop, but his mind was elsewhere. “Maybe because you never listen to anyone else,” he snapped, his voice sharp. Raph’s fists tightened, and he shot up from the couch, glaring at Donnie. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Genius. I didn’t realize you had everything figured out.” Leo, sitting by the meditation mat, opened his eyes briefly but said nothing. He had tried to keep the peace earlier, but the argument had spiraled beyond his control. His leadership felt like a heavy burden in the quiet aftermath. Mikey, perched on the edge of the coffee table, fidgeted with his skateboard, clearly uncomfortable in the silence. “Can’t we just take a break? I mean, we all just went through the same fight. What’s the point in fighting each other now?” But the words barely registered. Leo rubbed his temples, trying to think of something to say, but it felt pointless. “We need to focus on the mission, not each other,” he muttered, his voice distant.