And in the next moment I heard something fall, and when I turned I saw Shredder on one knee, that manic look in his one good eye, thinly covered by a veil of obedience. My shock was cut short by a crack, pain blooming across my back, and a scream tore itself from my throat as I fell to one knee. When I turned to see the source, I saw Skrull hooking a whip back onto his belt.
"Seem-seems it is your turn now, yes-yes, flesh-thing!" he hissed. "Flesh-thing will remember that I made flesh-thing, and I can unmake-unmake flesh-thing, break it, remake it! So kneel-kneel when in my glorious presence, yes-yes!"
In that moment, I was reminded that despite all my progress, I still stood at the very bottom of the ladder.
"This flesh-thing can prove itself, maybe-maybe," Skrull continued, tail twitching. "Yes-yes, maybe then Shredder gets his armor, he goes on mission with you! But if it fails, then fresh meat will be real fresh meat. Yes-yes, I will try again, always more meat-things to use-use." His words left no doubt that failure meant consequences I would not enjoy.
Right there and then I promised myself I would kill Skrull—slowly—but not before wringing every ounce of use from his rat-faced body. Yet before my thoughts could spiral further, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Shredder smiling that same bloodthirsty grin.
"This meat-bag is about to be blooded in glorious battle, yes-yes, fun-fun, blood-glorious blood!" Shredder rasped. "But first-first, we get this meat-bag some plate, so-so it doesn't get stabbed too soon. Only Shredder does the stabbing of this meat-bag, yes-yes!"