Chapter 272: A Crossover Between the Ninja Turtles and the Guardians of the Galaxy
Ethan had no idea Loki had already set his sights on the Space Stone in his possession, or that he was already rallying allies for a run at taking it.
Right now, Ethan had a guest to entertain.
"That's the situation. I'd like to ask you to take these four unruly children off my hands," Master Splinter said, voice warm and gentle.
At that, Ethan turned to look at the four turtles standing behind the old master.
His mouth twitched slightly. No mistaking it — these were the Ninja Turtles, one of Ethan's favorite games as a kid.
And the rat in front of him, dressed in traditional martial arts robes, was unmistakably Splinter himself.
Ever since gaining Observation Haki, Ethan had already sensed this little group living down in the sewers — he'd never chased them off, but he'd never gone out of his way to recruit them either.
They'd periodically come up to play vigilante in Hell's Kitchen, and honestly, Ethan had spent no small effort cleaning up after them.
To Ethan, the Turtles had always been more or less optional — in a Marvel world absolutely packed with superheroes, their combat capability was, frankly, unremarkable. Barely a notch above an ordinary human, if he was being honest.
Not that Ethan held it against them for not being human, though — that was never a factor for him.
What genuinely puzzled him was why Splinter had suddenly decided to bring his students out into the wider world now, of all times, given they usually only operated at night.
"So why the sudden decision to bring them into Hell's Kitchen? Weren't they doing fine before? Is this meant to change how they live?" Ethan asked, curious.
Splinter let out a heavy sigh, a wistful note in his voice. "Truthfully — who wouldn't want to live under open sky, if they could? These children have spent so long down in the sewers, they've nearly forgotten what sunlight even looks like."
There was real weariness and sorrow woven through his words, enough to genuinely tug at something in Ethan's chest.
Ethan understood well enough — this world wasn't kind to non-human creatures.
If Splinter ever showed himself openly on the street, he'd almost certainly be captured by some ambitious opportunist and spend the rest of his life locked away in a lab somewhere.
Endless suffering waited for creatures like them out there. Splinter knew perfectly well that he and his four sons couldn't stand against people like that.
Which was exactly why they'd been forced to stay hidden, curled up underground.
"You showing up gave me real hope. I can't let them spend their whole lives down in those sewers," Splinter said, looking back at his four sons with the warmth of a real father.
Over roughly six months of quiet observation, Splinter had come to know Ethan well. He'd witnessed Ethan's genuinely remarkable strength firsthand, but what impressed him more was Ethan's open-heartedness and total lack of self-interest.
Ethan treated everyone the same, without prejudice, without exception.
As for the whole thing about Ethan disliking a certain slur toward Black people — as far as Splinter was concerned, the people who used that word weren't worth as much as he was, and he was a rat.
Under Ethan's influence, Hell's Kitchen's residents had steadily let go of their prejudices, welcoming all kinds of mutants and outsiders into a genuinely functioning, harmonious community.
The recent race had made that abundantly clear. Splinter had deliberately entered the four Turtles specifically to test how the residents would react to them.
The result had thrilled him — far from reacting with fear at their unusual appearance, the residents had greeted them with genuine friendliness and warmth.
That was exactly what had brought Splinter here now, hoping to secure Ethan's protection. If Ethan simply gave the word, his sons could finally live out in the sunlight, for the first time in their lives.
Hearing Splinter's answer, Ethan understood immediately — this wasn't a difficult ask at all for him.
Just a nod, really, and it was done. But Ethan could sense clearly that the rat master was still holding something back.
Honestly, Ethan had no real objection to the Turtles joining Hell's Kitchen. He even had a bit of genuine appreciation for the one wearing the purple mask — if he remembered right, in the Ninja Turtles' own story, that one was supposed to be the resident genius, capable of inventing all sorts of remarkable gadgets. That kind of skillset was something Ethan could genuinely use.
Still, before formally taking in these new arrivals, Ethan felt it was worth pressing the rat master for the full truth first. He wasn't fond of being kept in the dark — especially not on something involving unknown creatures and potential risk.
"Master, I've held nothing but respect for you," Ethan said slowly, a certain firmness settling into his voice, "but I'd appreciate it if you were fully honest with me. I believe these four Turtles are only part of the reason you're here. There's something deeper going on, isn't there?"
Splinter visibly startled at that. Clearly, he hadn't expected Ethan to see through him quite this cleanly.
He let out a sigh, a bitter smile crossing his face, and shook his head. "I suppose there's no keeping secrets from you, is there. The truth is — I'm not from this world. Not this planet at all. Where I actually come from, I honestly couldn't tell you myself."
His voice dropped low and rough, carrying the weight of years and a deep, buried grief. He paused, seeming to reach back through some distant memory, then continued: "All I remember is being an animal in a laboratory once, subjected to brutal experimentation at human hands. They turned me into this — this thing — for their own purposes. How I ended up here after that, I have no idea. It's like some strange, dreamlike accident I stumbled into."
Something deep and lost moved behind his eyes, as if swallowed by an endless darkness. His fists clenched tight, like he was trying to grab hold of memories that had already slipped away, powerless to stop it.
He paused again, then went on. "Lately I've been having dreams — dreams of the time before I was changed. In that dream, I was free. Unburdened. I remember there were other animals in that same lab, all of them, like me, twisted into weapons by human hands. Their faces were so altered, so far from what they'd once been, that there was nothing left to recognize. I hate them. Those humans. They destroyed my life — destroyed so many innocent lives along with it. I want revenge. I want to burn that entire place to the ground."
As he spoke, something like real hatred flared behind Splinter's eyes. His voice climbed, thick with emotion, like every buried memory was finally spilling out at once. His fists clenched harder, as if he meant to crush every last drop of that fury and grief into nothing.
"And there's something else. Something I only just noticed, from a more recent dream." Splinter's brow furrowed, working to recall the detail. "There was another animal that escaped, too. The shape of it was blurry in the dream, but I think — I think it might have been a raccoon dog. Or... a raccoon?"
At that, Ethan's eyes went wide.
A strange, unplaceable sense of familiarity washed over him — like he'd heard this exact story somewhere before.
"Why does this sound so familiar... animal experiments... a raccoon... alien..." Ethan murmured to himself, and then it clicked. "Wait — isn't that Rocket Raccoon? From the Guardians of the Galaxy?"
He looked up sharply at Splinter, shock and confusion written plainly across his face.
This Marvel world was apparently so tangled together that even the Ninja Turtles and the Guardians of the Galaxy had somehow crossed paths.
Behind Splinter, the four young Turtles had caught every word of the exchange, and their faces twisted with fury.
None of them had ever heard this piece of their master's past. None of them had ever imagined he carried a history this tragic.
Watching Ethan's stunned reaction, Splinter felt a flicker of real anxiety.
He worried Ethan might refuse to take in his four students now, purely because of his own dark history.
So he looked at Ethan with hopeful, careful eyes and asked, quietly: "Would you be willing to take in these four little ones, Mr. Cross? So this old man can finally set out on his path of vengeance."
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