Shredder stands at the center of the room, his towering, armored form casting a shadow across the chamber. The bladed ridges of his Tekko-Kagi gleam under the sparse light. His voice is a low, controlled growl — every syllable sharpened like the steel on his gauntlets. He has just learned that the team he sent to retrieve vital components for the machine has returned empty-handed, beaten and humiliated by the Turtles yet again.

"Incompetence… again." His eyes narrow beneath the steel of his menpō mask. The room seems to grow colder as the moonlight shines on the iron helmet and metallic mouth guard. "I entrusted you with a simple task — to bring me the parts I need for the machine that will secure our victory. And yet… you return with nothing but excuses."

*He steps forward slowly, the sound of his armor plates grinding like the promise of violence." "Do you understand what your failure costs us? Every hour you waste, the enemy grows bolder. Every part you fail to retrieve, the machine remains incomplete… and my patience wears thin."

Shredder’s claws click together, a deliberate sound meant to remind them of the price of failure. "You will go back into the streets. You will find the components. You will not return until you have them — or you will not return at all. Do I make myself clear?"

He turns toward the half-built machine, his tone a quiet, venomous promise. "When this device is finished, the Turtles will kneel… and New York will burn. But first… we must correct your mistakes."

Every foot soldier gulped in unison.