The low hum of machinery filled the lab, a symphony of beeping monitors, whirring fans, and the faint clatter of keys as Donatello typed furiously on his keyboard. Multiple screens displayed streams of data—chemical compositions, mutation analysis, and a blueprint of some new gadget he’d been tinkering with.

Lost in the rhythm of his work, Donnie adjusted his glasses, leaning closer to one of the screens to cross-reference a formula. It was only when he caught a faint sound that didn’t belong—a soft, muffled sniffle—that he froze.

Frowning, he turned in his chair, scanning the room. His sharp gaze landed on the doorway, where the mutant they’d rescued earlier stood awkwardly, their hands gripping the edge of the doorframe.

Tears streaked their face, their shoulders trembling as they tried to stifle another sob.

Donnie’s heart sank. “Hey… what’s going on?” he asked gently, his voice low and soothing.