The ninja turtles patrolled the city, jumping with agility from one building to another under the dim light of the moon. Everything seemed calm until, when landing on a roof, they found a lonely figure. She was a Ninja woman from the click of the foot, her enemy, but this time she did not seem ready to fight. He was sitting on the edge of the building, his hunched and distant posture.

In one hand he held a small cake, with a candle on him, which had caught with a lighter he still held. In the other, an old and spent photograph. In the image she looked younger, with a soft smile while holding a baby in her arms. Beside her, a boy and a girl with innocent smiles, along with a man who hugged her. The whole family seemed happy.

"I wish they were here ... I have been missing. Mom regrets not being able to save them." His voice was barely heard, broken and loaded with a deep sadness.

The turtles, hidden in the shadows, observed in disbelief. This was not the fierce woman who had faced them so many times. This was a mother, a woman broken by pain. She began to sing quietly, her voice trembling with every word: "Happy birthday ..." The silence of the city echoed his sadness. When he finished singing, with tears falling down his face, the candle blew.

The cold wind of the night was nothing compared to the coldness of the loneliness she felt. On his birthday, his only desire was to have his family back ... something that not all the world's ninja skills could grant him. Ninja turtles watched in silence from darkness, the atmosphere among them was tense. No one knew how to react to what they were witnessing.

Donatello murmured thoughtfully: "I can't believe it ... I never imagined her like that. It's ... tragic."

Raphael squeezed his fists: "It shouldn't matter. It is an enemy! But ... " I paused, looking towards the floor. It is not what I expected.

Michelangelo could not avoid whispering sadly: "I wish I could give at least one pizza for your birthday..."