“Damn, Liam. Give it another three hours and you might start hitting the broadside of a barn.” Tutor said it in my mind.

“Shut up, I’ve hit it like thirty times, huff, by now.”

“Yet somehow those last couple have more than likely singed the hair off poor Donatello’s toes.”

“Donatello?”

“You know, shell-shoulders over there. You can’t tell me you haven't imagined Water Boy slurping on a slice of New York style pizza? Uhh Hait, you numbskull.”

“Wouldn’t be so numb if you didn’t shout in it all the time,” I whispered to myself, knowing full well she would hear it. “A TMNT reference? Really? And why Donatello?”

There was a pause. My guess was that she was coming up with a way to answer the question along with insulting me in the process. I leaned back on the ground, not fully laying down but propping myself up with my hands. The coarse blades of grass felt cool under my palm. The uncovered one at least. The mucus cast still covered my left arm.

The twins and I decided to take a break after I missed three shots in a row; that and both Hait and I were running low on stamina. I was more than happy to, my mouth felt like I had just tried to down a whole box of saltines.

Terl gave us a quick fill up just a few minutes ago, complaining about how much of a waste it was to use his talents on low levels like us. I’d say it irked me, but he was done in a matter of seconds. We probably were a slight waste.

He advised us to also chill out with the practice, especially now that Len left. I’d asked Jaren about it after watching him blast off into the sky above the monster side of the field.

“Just wait and see. Don’t want to ruin the surprise,” that and a wink was the answer I got. Par for the course at this point. However, I couldn’t help but feel like it was a bit forced.

I looked up at the countdown notification. It still hadn’t changed. Approximately Ten Minutes apparently meant nearly an hour on Kniyas. The sun had just about set, and an awe-inspiring mixture of blue and pink hues filled the sky. The Raid field’s tree-barren landscape let me take in so much more of the gorgeous horizon. It would have been a truly dazzling view if only the smells of rotting monster carcasses didn’t ride the gentle breeze right into my nostrils.

Nights were still somewhat cold and I felt every extra drop in temperature thanks to the moist skin granted to me by Salamandras Form. I shivered as another gust fell on my exposed arms. I pulled the sleeves down on my leather armor, Ursa's form had stretched them out and now the wind kept getting in. Really need to ask Mrs. Warbler about elastic. I honestly doubted they had that wonder of clothing science here but you never know.

I looked over at the twins, they were busy speaking with Daila. Seeing the mouse woman still had my stomach twisting in knots, so I told them I was going to focus on psyching myself up for the upcoming battle. Not a complete lie, but Lord knows I wasn’t about to tell them about Salamandras’ quirky little fear.

But I wasn’t alone in needing a psyche up from what I could tell. The atmosphere was palpable. Every soldier I could see wore tense expressions. The night was just upon us and nothing had changed. No reports about even seeing the boss had come in. Jaren was amongst the few who still exercised. He never seemed the type who’d be able to just sit in these kinds of situations. He swung his double-bladed sword around, landing hits on an imaginary foe. Each slash was more precise than the last, as his armor clinked with each movement. It was almost hypnotizing to watch the hulking armored man work through such delicate forms.

“He has to be Donny. None of the others fit.”

“What?” I asked as I jerked my head.

“Hait, that’s the only turtle that makes sense. No way is he Leo or Raph. His sister is probably closer to Mikey. Definitely has the party animal genes, no pun intended…I think. That only leaves Donatello.”

I was honestly stunned silent, Tutor put way more thought into this than I had expected. It was taking a minute to come up with something.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing, just trying to figure out if what you’re on about could be construed as racist or not.”

“Shut up.”

“What? You have to admit it's toeing the line. Also, I disagree, Hait has shown next to no interest in technology. And he does not use a bo staff.”

Tutor scoffed, almost as if she had taken offense to my argument. “The turtles are so much more than just their interests and weapons, you heathen. I’m talking about their personalities, their talents. Donatello was so much more than just a tinkering gearhead. He was the brains of the operation, the strategist, the master tactician. I might be so bold to say they couldn’t have pulled off half the hijinks they did without him.”

My stunned silence continued as I tried my damnedest to figure out how the conversation even got to this point. Of all the things today, I was not prepared for a near lore video level of commentary on teenage mutant ninja turtles.

“And why do you think Hait is a master tactician?”

“Do you really think that floating water platform and lightning bolt combo attack was Tawny’s plan? Nah had to be Donny, dang it, I mean Hait…Do you think he’d try out a staff?”

“I am not about to make some dumb fantasy of yours come true at the expense of my friend and teammate.”

“But maybe he could control his water powers better with one. You never know.”

“Shove it. Why are we even talking about this? I have a fight to get ready for.”

“No no no, bucko. You started this. I will not rest until you stick a purple mask across his face. Mrs. Warbler could make it with no problem. She could make a lot of outfits actually. Oooh, do you think—”

“No. Whatever you're about to say, just no.”

At some point in our mini turtle debate, the sun had finally set, and the sky darkened as the moon peeked over the horizon. Then a click sound went off in my head.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Was that you?” I asked her.

“Nope, check your notification.”

FINAL WAVE APPROXIMATELY: 9:53 MINUTES

A pit grew in my stomach. I swallowed. “Yeah, that figures,” I said as I looked at the stars beginning to come out.

I went to rise and meet up with Jaren’s squad, but Tutor stopped me.

“Hold up a sec.”

“What?!” I said with far more ferocity than I meant to. Still really nervous it seems.

“Chill, just trying to give a piece of advice. Make sure to mimic the boss.”

I tilted my head. That was something I hadn’t thought of. Was there some bonus to mimicking a boss? Maybe it comes pre-leveled or something. But mimicry’s range.

“I don’t know. I have to get pretty close to mimic, and if it's anything like the last one”

I recalled the boss of the last raid, the giant ball of writhing flesh. Graveball, if I remember correctly. I’m not sure if I could really see myself getting close to something like that without spelling certain doom for myself. It also had a whole host of mini versions surrounding it, including the one I inadvertently created in my flower garden back at the camp. Wonder how those are doing by the way?

“Just figure it out. Trust me, bro, it's worth it.” Tutor said, practically salivating as the words came out.

Sure, because nothing bad has ever happened to me after hearing those exact words come from a friend’s mouth.

“Why? Do you know what it is? Tell me. We could use the info for the fight.”

“Nope, said too much as is. But here’s a little reminder. It’s a little trick I picked up thanks to your incessant nagging.”

Before I could rebuttal, my vision flashed white. I closed my eyes at the sudden light. I opened them back up. “Shit, warn a guy first before…” I said, before pausing and looking up at the new information in my vision.

Quest 0: Mimic the Boss (Whatever it may be…)

Reward: Profit :)

The text sat right under my status bars, a bit intrusively. It didn’t take up too much of my vision, but enough that it will take some time to get used to it. Not ideal for a big fight.

“A quest log, really, this late into it.”

“Heeeey, I worked really hard on it.” I could hear the pout in her words.

I sighed. How hard could two lines of text be.

“Okay, thank you. I’m sure it will be helpful. Is there a way to minimize it? Maybe put it in the char sheet? It’s dark out now, I’m going to need as much of my vision as possible.”

“Oh well, umm suuure, let me just.” The audible clicking sounds of a mechanical keyboard resounded in my head. I rubbed my forehead, ultimately deciding it best to ignore it. I’d given up on trying to figure out what was going on with her. Not worth the aneurysm.

“I’m gonna have to get back to you on that. Bye. Take care. Don’t die.”

“Hey, no. UGH.” I leaned my head back, staring off into the night sky. “Great.”

I walked over to where Jaren and the rest of his squad were. The whole battlefield came back to life as legionaries ran around to their stations for the final preparations. Torches and lamps were being lit all around the area, bringing some light to the darkness. But not enough for a battle. Not really.

Most of Len’s squad surrounded him at the moment, as well as a light from what I could tell. But not the orange light of a fire, it was bright white, much like that of LEDs. There were about ten or so that I didn’t recognize or know what they did, and they didn’t seem that interested in me. I found Tawny and Hait sitting in the outer ring, trying to peek at whatever was happening.

I walked over to them, but before I could ask what they were doing, I heard Jaren speaking to someone. A woman's voice I recognized immediately.

“The clock is ticking now, Jarenth. Has Leonard…”

“Just Jaren. And yes, Lirae. He hopped up there half an hour ago. You know he’s done this a while. Pretty much longer than all of us. Even you.”

“You will not speak to my wife and your Mayor like this!”

I looked around one of the soldiers watching. Lirae stood next to a blonde man I didn’t know. A bright orb of light sat above the man. He wasn’t wearing any sort of armor, just a basic tan tunic and cloth pants. A bright white circle adorned the center of the tunic. He edged closer to Jaren, a snarl on his lips.

Lirae put her hand out, stopping the man. She wore a flattering and form-fitting set of leather armor. Her auburn hair tied into a braid that fell all the way down her back. Even in her battle gear, she looked gorgeous. I felt Salmandras’ nervous energy start to burn my sides.

“Thank you, dear. But we can’t very well fight amongst ourselves right now can we, Rickard.”

The man coughed and collected himself, the orb of light floating above his head flittered as he did so.

Lirae turned back to Jaren.“ Then am I to assume we will be handling the boss?”

Jaren, without taking his eyes off the blonde man, nodded. “Looks to be that way. Any news on what it may be.”

“Scouts have been sent out, but nothing as of yet.”

“Aye. Thank you, Mrs. Mayor.” Jaren smirked as he mockingly bowed to the beautiful green elf.

The blonde man’s eye twitched.

“We shall keep you posted as soon as the initial reports come in.” She turned away and walked, heading straight in my direction. The soldiers that stood in front of me (hid me) saluted and dispersed so fast that I couldn’t follow, leaving me right in front of her. Maybe she won’t notice me?

Lirae stopped as her eyes fell on me, my stomach hopped into my chest. I felt sweat pour down my back. I stood completely frozen in her gaze. Flames of distaste burned in her eyes. She noticed me. But before she said anything, the man got right in my face.

“Is the Fourth so undisciplined that they don’t salute their leader?”

White light seeped from his eyes. “Salute your Mayor, right, this, instant, soldier.”

My mouth and throat turned back into a desert. I couldn’t turn my eyes from him, fully on account of how close Lirae, a stunning woman, was. Panic flourished in my head and chest. I would salute if I could. I wasn’t in the business of being this insubordinate, but I literally couldn’t move.

The light burned even hotter in his eyes. I could just about feel the waves of anger flow from him. It reminded me of Len for some reason.

Then, just before his fury hit its boiling point, something, a force of some kind, pushed my cast up as high as it could. Then Tawny and Hait stepped in front of me.

“Sorry Commander Lumensworn, Mayor Laurellen. His arm was injured in the last wave.” Hait said, saluting to the man. Tawny saluted as well.

The man looked down at my covered arm, he leaned back, snuffing the light in his eyes.

“Hmph. Fine then. I guess the Fourth needs all the help it can get. Even the broken. Let us go, Lirae.”

He turned to look back at his wife, but she was currently bending over, looking over the two half elf twins. I expected to find a look of pure anger. How dare these younglings dare interrupt her and her husband. Something along those lines. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

For her face wore an absolutely brilliant smile. Like that of a proud mother.