SHI: THE REBIRTH

A ladder leading down beneath a watertower was the entrance into one of the Foot Clan’s secret encampments in New York.

As he reached the bottom, nearby groups of mask-less Foot Soldiers stopped what they were doing and dropped to their knees.

Walking past them, he made his way deeper within the compound.

"Tachi!" his Foot Soldier escort called out. "I have brought him."

A Japanese man in a white biosuit gaped at the sight of Saki. "Shredder…" he murmured. "I don’t believe it! How did you manage to locate him?"

"Our surveillance cameras revealed one of the identities of the intruders to be that of our master’s brother. We went from there, as we have been monitoring his family in Kyoto ever since."

"No matter!" Dr. Tachi said. "Are you ready, master?"

Saki swallowed. He forced himself to meet the scientist’s eyes. "Yes."

"Very well, step this way." Tachi led the way into a larger room with an operating table. There was a chair near each corner on one side, opposite the clear tube he recognized from his terrifying vision of an earlier resurrection.

Tachi seated him down on the metallic chair. Gazing up, he saw a towering crane-like structure directly above his head.

Upon his fastening into the chair, Tachi went to his computer. Foot Soldiers from all over the compound flocked to the site, all struggling to get a look at the spectacle that would be occurring.

"That man told me I was cloned."

"Yes, quite right!" Tachi exclaimed. He seemed eager to discuss anything scientific, perhaps for the opportunity to flaunt his knowledge. "Not at all like the first time, in which genetically enhanced worms fed on your remains and reformed as another you, with memory intact. This second time we cloned you through the standard DNA nuclear transfer, same process used in the sheep cloning in 1997. Only difference was, your developing embryo was grown in a nutrient tank, not a host mother."

"Oh."

"Let’s just hope the synapses in your brain haven’t cemented quite yet. We need them docile in order for us to stimulate them to grow back into the patterns of your former self. It wasn’t very easy, since you were slain long after your last memory upload into the database crays and we were unable to retrieve your remains. I was forced to take pieces of memories from a Foot Soldier who observed your final moments from the shadows during your confrontation with one of the Turtles, just prior to the destruction of our central headquarters. Don’t worry, I took minimal liberties with it." He folded his arms behind his back. "I believe I have pieced together your memory rather neatly, I hope you’ll agree."

"Then please proceed," Saki said, swallowing again. He felt a drop of sweat trickle down his back.

"Of course. Please, remain calm during the process."

"Can I not be unconscious during the…download?"

"Oh, no! Your brain would be operating on such a reduced level it would be impossible! We need your brainwave activity operating regularly throughout the entire procedure!"

Well, he had to ask.

Saki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The whir of a machine motor above startled him. The straps in place along his body prevented him from tilting his head to look up, but he knew the crane-like machine was taking up a position behind his skull.

"Now accessing brain stem…" muttered Tachi.

A slight pinprick was felt in the back of Saki’s head. It quickly became an all-consuming tingling sensation, one that spread to every corner of his body. It felt a simultaneous mixture of tickling, burning, and nausea. It was disorienting, to say the least.

"Download initiated… Everything normal…"

The room around him suddenly became twisted and warped. Impossibly, he found himself staring face to face with a distorted image of himself.

No, not himself, the Shredder. Standing in his full-bladed armor the apparition of the Shredder stood, peering down on Saki. Shredder reached for his helmet, taking it off.

For a fleeting moment, Saki saw his own face.

"Download complete!" Tachi exclaimed triumphantly.

Dizziness and intense fatigue subsided in Saki’s mind. When it cleared, a sharpness and clarity eased all confusion away from his mind. Total recall. Where childlike ignorance and turmoil once reigned then rose unparalleled anger and authority. It was like awakening from a deep slumber.

A Foot Soldier silently unstrapped Saki from the chair after the crane machine retracted out of the way.

Standing, Saki stretched his arms, then clenched and unclenched his fists. He scanned the room, taking in every face that was gazing at him in anticipation of what he might say or do next.

He opened his mouth and spoke, "I remember." He swept his eyes over the onlookers’ faces, vanquishing their doubt with his gaze. "I remember."

The lone cloaked figure of Oroku Saki stood in front of the fenced-out area that stretched out for hundreds of feet.

It used to be Hudson Block, Saki knew. The whole block, businesses, apartment complexes and all, had been a front for the New York Foot’s chief headquarters. His final memories of that place were not pleasant.

But he was here on business.

In the aftermath of the explosions that had compromised the entire block, the truth of what was behind it became public, and Saki had learned the city ordered it condemned after an alleged investigation. What remained of its structures were recently demolished to undoubtedly make way for forthcoming commercial buildings.

Easily vaulting himself over the fence, Saki passed through the burnt rubble that had previously been a bank, large pieces of shattered pillars lying randomly about.

He came to the corner of another ruined building site he knew had once been the central structure of his private quarters.

It should be here, he thought to himself. Lifting aside a large slab of charred wood, Saki sifted through the ruins until his hand touched steel. Lifting it out, Saki peered down at his blackened steel helmet, untouched save for the easily washable stains. With suppressed enthusiasm, he placed it on his head, connecting the face plate.

It was not the one he had worn to his death—that one had been lost, along with his worm-reconstructed body that had last been seen burning on a raft over the Hudson River, he had learned. It was a virtual replica, but was, in fact, the very first he had forged.

The Shredder smiled beneath his mask.

Now, he thought, to regain what was lost. Then, at long last…vengeance against the turtle demons.

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