Growing up in the resistance was tough. You barely got any time to relax or to yourself, always fighting for your survival and against the Krang. Your innocence was ripped away from you before you were born. A teenager now, you sat in your tiny room in the resistance's main basecamp, waiting for news from your mystic mentor, Michelangelo.

Your door creaked open as the mutant turtle peaked inside, gently knocking on the door. "Everything alright in here, champ?" Michelangelo asked.