Season 2, Episode 2:



The Beast didn't know where he was.

It was similar to where he had been just before the lightning struck him, but the differences were glaring. The buildings were upright and complete. Instead of dead soldiers, he was surrounded by fleeing civilians.

The most infuriating difference was that, instead of Kuo, Delsin, and a hundred other Conduits following him, there was jack shit.

That made the Beast angry. And whenever the Beast was angry, he made sure everybody and everything around him knew it.

"Alright!" He roared at the street, lit up in crimson as his body erupted with flame.
"Where's the wiseass that brought me here?! Come on out! I'll burn down this whole city to find you if I have to!"

"Bit of an extreme solution there, mate." A cocky voice called from behind the Beast.

He turned and found a blonde man in a wrinkled white shirt, a loose red tie, and a rugged brown coat. The man looked like a slob, but probably thought he looked dashing. He lifted a cigarette to the sky, where a lick from the Beast's expanding flame lit it up.

"Burn down the house to kill the rat," the man continued, taking a puff. "Just like my gran."

Before the Beast could incinerate the idiot, there was another voice.

"Ekam ti niar!"

He spun around, finding a woman dressed as a show magician, complete with a top hat.

He felt a drop of rain hit his scalp.

A moment later, it was coming down in buckets. Fire became steam.

The Beast hacked as he tried to revive his flames. He managed a few orange streaks, but they were almost immediately reduced to smoke. Seconds later, he could barely even ignite his fingertips.

"Damn you," He growled, looking down at his steaming hands. Past them, a puddle had formed, taunting him with his reflection.

The Beast, the leader of the next stage of humanity's evolution, reduced to just another punk by bad weather. The sight of it was more infuriating than the disabling of his powers.

"Now that you've cooled off…" A third voice, the deep one of a pretentious professor, said from above the Beast.

He looked up and found a man with a black goatee wearing a scarlet cloak floating several feet above him. He looked down at the Beast.

"Perhaps we can discuss your predicament in a more civilized manner."

The Beast clenched his fists. He wanted to burn the man and his friends and their entire city to the ground.

"Alright," he growled. "Talk."

He itched for it.


Cole MacGrath didn't know where he was.


He could barely even remember where had been.


He remembered being on a rooftop with Trish and Zeke, popping open some beers and toasting.

"Hold...Gonna do…"

But the memory felt distant. It felt unreal.

"...Bro...Could happen…"

As he stirred awake, he came to a crushing realization that he was too familiar with.


The wonderful memory that was clear in his mind was a dream.


And he was about to be reminded of just how shitty real life was.

"Wakey-wakey, lightning-dude!"

His eyes snapped open. Four green-skinned monsters were staring at him.

Cole thought he would be scared. He was only annoyed.

"Come on, guys," he sighed, flexing his fingers to get some good sparks flowing through them.
"It's too early for this shit."

"Woah, woah, relax, man!" One of the monsters exclaimed, stepping away from the bed.
"We're good guys! You're a good guy, too, right? I guess if you're not, then that's the right reaction. But I've got a good feeling about you!"

Cole blinked, wondering what was stranger about the monster; that he could speak or that he sounded like he should be skateboarding to high school with a boombox over his shoulder.

"Yeah…" He said, slowly getting up but keeping his hands electrified just in case.
"Yeah, I'm a good guy."

He glanced around the room. It was some kind of bunker. He spotted a ragged couch, a skateboard, an old TV, and a table cluttered with old gadgets and tools. The place had a damp stench which Cole had gotten used to ages ago.

He also got a better look at the monsters. They had shells on their backs; they were some kind of freakish half-human, half-turtle hybrids. They each wore a colored mask over their eyes; the skater-voiced one had orange, the others had red, blue, and purple.

"What's with the masks?" Cole asked, now fully upright. "Hate to break it to ya, but they're not exactly keeping your identities a secret."

"You're one to talk," the red-masked one snapped in one of the harshest Brooklyn accents Cole had ever heard.
"Hours spent on the superhero costume drawing board, all you can get out is a yellow t-shirt and sweatpants?"

Cole focused on him; a five-foot-tall human turtle in a mask barking at him like a burly bargoer.

He laughed.

"Okay, okay…" He looked back at the turtles, who were looking at him like he was the weirdest thing in the room. They were also reaching for their weapons, holstered on either their hips or shell; swords, staffs, sai, and nunchucks.
Cole tried not to laugh again.
"You guys seem alright...Why don't ya tell me what's goin' on?"


The rain avoided the Beast's teacup.

The three magicians and their friend in the stupid bat costume had brought him into this invisible mansion. It was cozier than any building the Beast had entered since the Blast. The chair they sat him in was more comfortable than any he had sat in since even before the Blast. The tea was richer and much more satisfying than even a hundred boxes of rations. And the rain cloud centered exclusively on him chucked down harder than any military force that had ever dared to open fire on him.

The Beast understood that these people wouldn't risk him burning the place down, but they didn't have to be so goddamn condescending about it.

"Is the rain really necessary?" He growled at his hosts, who, save for the bat guy, who stood, sat in their own armchairs encircling the center of the glimmering orange room.

"Well," Zatanna said, "you did come in with threats of burning the city down, so maybe you can see our conundrum; thousands of lives or good manners."

"Then why don't you just kill me? Less trouble for everyone."

"Because there may be a more pleasant solution," Strange answered. "It seems you were displaced by an unknown force. We're considering helping you find it if you're willing to cooperate, then we may be able to find a means of sending you home."

"What do you mean home? Everywhere's my home!"

"That's just the trouble, beastie," Constantine replied. "You're not in your everywhere."

The Beast itched.

"...You guys better start makin' sense."

"It appears to us," Strange said. "That you're from another world."

"Another world," the Beast grunted. "What gives you that idea?"

"We're sorcerers, mate," Constantine answered. "We can smell the otherworldliness on ya, no matter how much smoke and swamp water and God-knows-what-else ya try to hide it with."

"So you were in your own world," Zatanna continued. "And something brought you into this one. But we may be able to send you back."

"What's with all the maybe?" The Beast snarled. "There a power cap for you sorcerers?"

"We have to decide if we should send you back," the bat guy said, approaching the Beast. Something about his deep voice brought back memories of the Beast's repulsive father.
"Appearing in a raging inferno and endangering innocent lives doesn't make a great first impression. If it were up to me alone, you'd be locked up in Arkham in a cell with continuous sprinklers by now. But the doctor, Zatanna, and John insisted that we give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you're just a victim of bad timing."

"Maybe," the Beast scoffed. "How d'ya plan on findin' out?"

"Like this…" Zatanna pulled a black stick out of her sleeve and pointed it at the Beast. She did so with a flamboyant wave of her arm that inflamed the Beast's itch.
"Llet su eht hturt."

The Beast felt something tingle in his throat. It was similar to the rush he got when he learned a new power. This, however, was much smaller and even less welcoming; it was power, but one that wasn't there to help him.

"Now…" the bat guy stood over the Beast now, millimeters away from the rain.

The itch was unbearable.

"Tell us who you are."


As the turtles recapped Cole, their sensei entered.

He was an elderly humanoid rat named Master Splinter.

He had named his "sons" after Renaissance artists.

Michelangelo had an orange mask and nunchucks.

Raphael had a red mask and twin sais.

Donatello had a purple mask and a staff.

Leonardo had a blue mask and two katanas.

By then, Cole was ready for the weirdness to hit the brakes.

It hit the gas.

"We'd just got done trashin' our buddy Baxter Stockman's party," Raphael said, punching the air in front of him.

"When we saw a tremendous lightning bolt strike at the docks a few blocks away," Donatello explained.

"We ran over to investigate and to make sure nobody was hurt," Leonardo added.

"That's where we found you, dude!" Michelangelo threw an arm over Cole's shoulders.
"You were all electrified and stuff! Donnie needed to get us all rubber gloves so we could carry ya back here!"

"You slept for many hours," Splinter said. "I sensed that you had endured a long and vicious battle."

"Right," Cole said. "...Do you guys know who I am?"

"Uh…Who was that guy on TV the other day?" Michelangelo pressed his fists against his temples.

"No," Cole replied. "I mean...Empire City? Conduits? Kessler? The Beast? Ringin' any bells?"

"Not in this chapel," Raphael shrugged.

"Of course!" Donatello snapped two of his three fingers. "An alternate dimension!"

"...Come again?" Cole said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, we get an alternate dimension case every other month or so," Donatello nodded, far more excited than Cole thought he had any right to be.
"You appear in a giant beam of energy. You remember things that don't exist here. Most likely explanation is that you're a hero from another dimension who's been flung into this one!"

"...You know what?" Cole threw his hands up. "With how today's turnin' out, that wouldn't even surprise me. What I wanna know is why? How?"

"Those are, uh, very good questions," Donatello muttered, his excitement devolving into uncertainty.

"When looking for answers," Splinter said, stroking his whiskers. "One must first consider where they can be found."

Cole thought. His eyes wandered over to the extremely outdated TV.

"You said there was a giant bolt of lightning?" He asked.

"Yeah, man," Michelangelo answered. "Colossal sized!"

"Probably made a lotta noise, huh?" Cole found the remote sticking up from between the sofa cushions. He grabbed it and switched the TV on.
"Betcha the reporters are already on it. Don't know if they're full 'a shit here than where I come from, but it's a start."

"Yeah, man," Michelangelo cheered. "Watchin' TV solves everything!"

Cole flipped through the channels. Each change seemed a struggle for the TV as it fought off hordes of static. As he glimpsed at each trivial program, Cole gathered that, contrary to what the mutated turtle ninjas and their rodent master would have him believe, this world was not a nuclear wasteland populated by human-animal hybrids. It seemed normal. Pre-Blast normal.

Cole never thought he would see anything like it again.

He found the news station. There was no footage of giant lightning bolt, but there was a cloud of fire which, according to the reporter, had suddenly exploded onto Bleecker Street.

At its center was a human silhouette.

"No," Cole gasped. "No…"

"What is it?" Leonardo asked. "Is that an enemy of yours?"

"Yeah...But he was a literal giant the last time I fought him." As Cole spoke, a memory crept into his mind. It gave him a feeling infinitely worse than when he woke up.

The footage continued; a sudden torrent of rainfall put the raging inferno out. As the smoke lifted, the silhouetted figure was revealed.

Cole MacGrath had faced the military, monsters, super-powered psychopaths, and a fiery giant that could decimate entire cities with a single blow. The man standing in the smoke was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.

"Hey," Raphael said. "That guy's your spittin' image."

"Ooh. You've got an evil twin?" Michelangelo asked with child-like excitement.

"No," Cole said. "Well, I did once fight my time-traveling future self-"

"Awesome," Michelangelo responded.

"And extremely harmful to the space-time continuum," Donatello added.

"But this is different," Cole continued. "He looks like he's the same age as me...You, uh...Don; you said something about other dimensions."

"Yes, I did."

"So is it possible that every dimension has its own Cole MacGrath?"

"Well, not every dimension. According to the many-worlds theory, there must be somewhere you or even your parents were never born-"

"Cut to the chase, bro," Raphael snapped. "He's askin' if this guy's him from another Earth."

"Oh," Donatello looked disappointed. "Then yes. Almost certainly."

"So how come two of you are here?" Leonardo asked. "One good, one bad, and both arriving at the same time?"

"Don't know," Cole said. Then, even with the horrible realization chewing on his mind, he managed a smirk.
"Why don't we go ask him?"


"Ouy tonnac raeh su."

The Beast had barely finished his story when Zatanna interrupted him.

Technically, the strange feeling in his throat had done the blabbing, while the Beast himself couldn't do anything else no matter how desperately he tried.

Just as the thing in his throat was rounding out the part about recruiting Conduits to eliminate the outdated parts of humanity, Zatanna said some more magical gibberish.

The magicians and their bat friend whispered. At least, the Beast thought that they were whispering until he wondered why they would do so with five feet of space between each of them.

He could still hear the rain crashing against him.

"This some magical bullshit that makes me deaf exclusively to you?" He spat.

Constantine looked at him, brought a finger to his lips, then returned to the muted discussion.

The Beast didn't need to hear them to know that they were sentencing him.

Still, he was confused. He couldn't tell for sure if these people were Conduits, but they had power, and that was good enough. Why were they so intimidated by his plan which would benefit them?

He looked at their bat friend. The Beast finally figured him out. The ridiculous costume. The fact that he was the only one who hadn't done any magic yet.

He didn't have any power. Yet there he was, pretending that he did. Around actual wizards.

He was worse than an outdated human. He was a wannabe Conduit. And the magicians tolerated him.

The wizards surrounded him now. Strange and Zatanna glared down at him. Constantine grinned.

"You guys haven't been paying attention."

The Beast unleashed an electric shockwave at the magicians. His rain-soaked body erupted with pain. He hated it, but not nearly as much as the three idiots and their pet.

Not even close.

He could only see red, but he felt the rain finally let up. The moment it did, he lit up. Nice and toasty.

"You got from my story that I can also control electricity," he said, standing up. "You should've also got that I don't go down so easily."

His vision faded back. He found all of the magicians' weird furniture darting back to their proper places. The magicians themselves were splayed on the floor before him. Straight ahead, the bat hid behind his cape like goddamn Dracula.

"I did," the bat growled.

The Beast's itch inflamed.

"Alright, bat boy. You want power? I'll show ya real power!"


"Ya sure ya don't wanna ride inside, dude?!" Mikey shouted from the shotgun seat. "We got room!"

"Thanks, man!" Cole called from the roof. "But I'd hate to blow up your kickass van!"

The drive to Bleecker Street some much-needed relief. Despite how terrifying today had been so far, he had to love that he was riding on top of a decked-out spy van being driven by ninja turtle-people.

If only Zeke could see him now.

Donatello's driving was astounding. He maneuvered the bulky, shell-patterned vehicle through the bustling New York traffic as efficiently as if it were a motorcycle.

The rush stuck with Cole as they pulled up to the sidewalk on Bleecker Street.

The first thing that stood out to him was the decaying corpse of an abandoned building between the decently-maintained numbers 175 and 179.

"Right…" Cole dropped down while the turtles hopped out of the van.
"Let's see where my twin ran off to." He turned to the turtles. "...Are you guys serious?"

"What?" Leonardo asked as he and his brothers buttoned up their brown trenchcoats and donned their fedoras.

"You give me hell for the way I dress, but you guys are here looking like two kids standing on each other's shoulders trying to buy beer."

"At least it keeps our faces hidden," Raphael retorted.

"Yeah, but not your weird turtle feet."

"Okay, now you're just being rude."

Cole slid a hand down his face. He felt bad.

He was about to apologize when he felt a blast of burning-hot wind behind him.

He darted around, lighting up his hands. He heard trenchcoats flapping and blades unsheathing beside him.

A streak of flame rocketed from the abandoned building, becoming a human-sized fire in the middle of the road. Cars screeched to a halt before it. Terrified beeps harmonized with the roaring flame.

Cole thrust his palms forwards, sending a ray of ice to diminish the flames. In the same instinctive reaction, he roared at the source of the flame.


He charged forward, increasing the output of ice until the street was fogged in white. He couldn't see his twin. He didn't want to see him. At the same time, he wanted to just to get this agonizing terror out of his heart.

"Wow," Michelangelo said. "Now that's cool. Pun absolutely intended!"

Cole stopped when he was right beside the source of the fire, which was now nothing more than a minor warmth in the frosty air.

The fog dissipated. On the ground, Cole found some guy in a bat-themed costume struggling to his knees. Right in front of him, he found his own red reflection.

"I'm gettin' sick of this magic crap," the other Cole snarled.

He threw a flaming fist at Cole, who was quick to block with an icy palm.

Cole was possessed by a discomforting and peculiar sensation. He felt like he was in front of a funhouse mirror, looking at something that was almost but quite him. Simultaneously, even though he knew he was battling a new version of the Beast, he felt like he was with Trish. His heart pounded the way it always did when he was with someone he knew so deeply and intimately.

The Beast roared and charged more fire into his fist. Cole realized that this wasn't how he felt when he was Trish. This was how he felt as Trish died in his arms.

"Take a page from your twin's book, dude!"

Cole ducked. Michelangelo leaped over him, shooting his heel into the Beast's chin.

"Chill out!"

The Beast fell backward, right into the path of the recovering bat-costumed guy's uppercut. He came back for an icy right hook from Cole. Then Raphael rolled into the fray, stopping on one knee and burying both of his sai in the Beast's gut.

The Beast, still smoking, froze. His teeth were black with blood.

Cole noticed the bat-guy glaring at him and Raphael.

The turtle yanked his blades out of the Beast, who nearly fell but kept his stance.

"C'mon, man," Raphael grunted as he went for another stab.

The Beast seized his arms.

His body and Raphael's erupted with scarlet electricity. Raphael screamed. The Beast was silent.

Raphael's brothers and the bat-guy were petrified.

Cole knew exactly what the Beast was doing. In less than a second, he tackled his twin, freeing Raphael.

The Beast pushed against Cole, grasping him by the throat.

Cole braced himself for the Bio Leech.

"Let's talk somewhere private," the Beast growled.

He picked Cole up. He didn't use the Bio Leech, but he did something which astonished and haunted Cole just as much.

He flew.


Raphael felt like crap.

He lay on his shell on the pavement, watching Evil Cole flying away with Good Cole. Every bone in his body wanted to jump after them, but his muscles just couldn't be bothered.

Donnie was beside him immediately. When he spoke, the sound came from the other side of the galaxy. He looked scared. Raphael hated when Don was scared. He was a nerd, but the thing about nerds was that they were only scared when it really mattered.

He wondered why his body had stopped burning. It hadn't gone cold either. He wasn't sure what it felt like. He wasn't sure if it felt like anything.

Leo and Mikey surrounded him. Behind them, Raphael saw the bat guy looking at a screen that fit in his palm. There was a blinking red light on it; a tracking device. Raphael tried to focus on where it was pointing, hoping that Evil Cole was staying close to pick up the beating he was owed.

He tried and ended up in a world of blinking red lights.

It took about ten seconds to escape it. Or ten years. He couldn't keep track.

He returned to find two men and a woman. The woman and one of the men were dressed like they were set to perform at a kid's birthday party. The other man was dressed like the kid's alcoholic father.

Behind them, Raphael found a hooded figure standing on a rooftop. Behind the hooded figure, the moon grew to encompass the sky. Behind the moon, he saw Kraang swallowing it into his slimy pink face. Behind Kraang, a pair of yellow gloves reached for Raphael. They pulled him up without touching him. When he was upright, he could feel the foggy New York air again. There was nothing weird around him. At least, nothing weirder than three magicians and a guy in a bat costume.

"The shell was that?!" Raphael gasped.

"You nearly had your life force drained, mate," the alcoholic-dressed guy said. "We put it back in for ya. On the house."

"Life force?"

"There's a more technical way of putting it," Don responded. "But you're just gonna tell me to skip over it, aren't you?"

"Pretty much. No offense, bro." Raphael picked up his sai and leaped to his feet.
"Now let's go drain that guy's life force!"


The Beast threw the imposter to the ground as he descended into Central Park. He found a perfect spot a few steps away from the lake.

Just in case.

The park's lights were off; only the Beast and the moon provided illumination, which concentrated on the imposter like interrogation lights.

"So," the Beast began. "You're this place's version of me?"

"No," the imposter coughed. "But I am a better version of you."

"Watch it," the Beast snapped, pointing a burning finger.

"What?" The imposter let out a hoarse laugh. "You wanna keep me alive so you can explain your evil plan?"

"I wanna see if we can work together."

"Well, that involves explaining your plan, doesn't it? Don't bother; I can guess. You wanna gather up all the other Conduits, then kill everyone else, or make them your slaves, or just generally make them let you use the planet as your personal superpower playground. That about right?" He raised his eyebrows.

The Beast itched.

"I wouldn't put it that way," he growled. "But yeah...Different guy try that in your world?"

"Nope." The imposter leaned against a tree. "But I thought about it. Every time the news or the cops or the people gave me shit even after everything I did for 'em, I'd think about turning it back on 'em. If they wanted a bad guy, I could give 'em the worst guy they'd ever seen. There were times when I came real close to actually doing it...But I never did."

"Then you're weak," the Beast spat. "You have power over those people and you still let them shit all over you."

The imposter looked right into his eyes.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

The Beast itched.

"I lost everything, dumbass! My home! My friends! And…"

I hate you.


I hate you more than anything.

"You couldn't understand…"

Just let me die. I don't want to look at you anymore.

"You think so?" The imposter asked, straightening up. "Because I couldn't save my home. And there were lots of people I couldn't save. I lost Trish...And I lost my life!"

"So did I-"

"No!" The imposter retorted. "I died!"

He stopped for a moment. The Beast's furious itching faded. He felt something as he looked at his reflection. Something he hadn't felt since before the Blast. He wasn't sure if he had ever even felt it at all.

"I died doing what I thought was right," the reflection continued, his eyes piercing through the Beast.
"So don't think you can use your past as an excuse-"

"I won't," the Beast retorted, fighting the feeling.

"Oh, but you will, Cole!" The reflection used his own name with a surprising tone of disdain.
"You will always look back on those things for permission to be an even bigger asshole than whichever asshole's screwing up your life today! You will always think it's okay to do the first thing that comes into that messed-up head of yours just because somebody did something bad to you! You can't do anything else, because if you could, you would be me!"

The Beast's itch was monstrous.

He lunged at the imposter with an inferno in each hand, hellbent on reducing him to ashes.

He hit a barrier of bright orange light.

"Let's try this again!"

The Beast turned, finding the freakish turtle things, the idiot wizards, and their bat pet charging at him. The one wielding the sai, who the Beast swore he had leeched, led the charge, coming at him with a leaping kick.

The Beast turned, sending a burning hand out to catch the turtle's foot and batter his friends with him before cremating him.

"Ruoy smra og bmun!"

His arms fizzled out and fell at his sides. His face became acquainted with the turtle freak's foot.

The Beast couldn't remember the last time he had been hit in the face. He had forgotten how much it hurt. And it hurt like a bitch.

He skidded across the grass, his arms powerless to stop his wipeout. He halted barely at the edge of the lake. It was then that he realized that his jaw was broken. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, but the sudden absence of feeling was equally harrowing.

He had barely gotten to his knees when an icy grip forced his head up. He looked up into his own face. He was gripped by a mix of internal and external hatred which only Kessler had ever made him feel. This time, however, it was more internal.

His head was freezing. He put every ounce of his being into trying to summon even a flicker of flame, but all he could think of was cold.

He thought he should feel panicked. He was only disappointed.

"Here's the deal," Cole said. "You could've spent just another moment thinking about everything you did. I'm that extra moment. I'm the one who didn't have to come down to my enemies to show them that they were wrong. I died for it and I still stand by it. And right now, I'm thinking about all sorts of things to do to you. I'm so close to doing them, you should be shitting yourself. But instead, I'm going to do something else."

He whispered in the Beast's ear.

All he could think of was cold.

"Now tell me again who's weak."


Cole grinned as he watched the spirits storm around the Sanctum Sanctorum.

A strange-looking creature with several mismatched furry body parts shouted silently from the top of the staircase.

A white-haired swordsman argued with a disfigured man in a black cloak.

A clown tugged on the Beast's ears.

The Beast shoved him away, then shot his most burning glare at Cole.

Cole smiled at him.

"You like it?" Zatanna asked.

"It's perfect," he answered. "Not as ugly as death and not as cruel as prison, but it still gets the point across. You sure he can't get out?"

"One would have to penetrate the Sanctum's defenses to even begin," Strange replied. "Now; on the matter of returning you home."

Cole looked at him. For a moment, he could feel the sea breeze coming from the docks of New Marais.

Only for a moment.

"Actually…" He said. "I was wondering...If it was alright with you guys. If it wouldn't make the universe explode or anything like that; you think I could stick around?"

"Yeah, doc!" Mikey cheered. "He could stay with us!"

"What's wrong with your own world, mate?" Constantine asked.

"Nothing," Cole responded. "...Okay, a lot. But not nearly as much as beastie boy's world. But my life in my own world is over. Literally...And somebody brought me back to life and brought me here; there must be a reason why. I need to find out or it'll drive me crazy for the rest of my...Second life."

"Seems reasonable enough," Constantine replied.

"Don't see why not," Zatanna added.

"I'm fine with it," Strange said. "It would likely be more dangerous to return you to a world where you are supposed to be dead anyhow."

"Thanks," Cole turned to the turtles. "You guys sure you got the space?"

"Of course," Leonardo answered. "We're happy to help anyone in need."

Cole smiled at them. He smiled at the sorcerers and at the Batman. He felt something that he hadn't felt in ages.

I love you.

He wasn't sure if he had ever even felt it at all.

I love you and I love everything you've done for this city.

And yet it still felt warm and familiar.

Don't stop. It's going to get tougher, but please never stop.

Cole thought that it was something he had always wanted to feel.


He knew that the Beast didn't even know what it was.

"But before that," Michelangelo said. "I'm starving. Wanna go for a pizza."

"...You know what, Mike?" Cole threw an arm over his shoulder. "I haven't had a pizza since I got my powers."

"For real?! How are you even alive?!"


So good triumphed over evil. Isn't that interesting?

He had thought that the match would be closer. He had scrutinized every twinner of this MacGrath fellow until he had found the most identical pair. Same name, same pasts, very, very similar powers. Everything the same except that one was good and the other was evil.

And yet good still won.

He figured that it would, but he had hoped that at least a few major cities would have been burned down before then.

At the very least, it had offered him a day's entertainment.

But now it was time to get back to work.

BEAST, or DC x Marvel x inFAMOUS x Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Season 2, Episode 2 (10 overall)


Chell begins her new career as an officer aboard the USS Enterprise under Captain Jean-Luc Picard! But what should be a peaceful introductory day is interrupted by a mysterious woman in near-indestructible power armor!