Chapter Text
The Doctor was not taking responsibility. He wasn’t, simple as that. He was, in no way, shape or form, taking any responsibility as a Lord of Time whatsoever. Under no uncertain terms was he taking absolutely no responsibility for the all but impossible spacetime phenomenon that was taking place here, on this merely moderately developed planet that was barely tickling the borders of its solar system. He was just curious, nothing more. He was just going to have a look around, see what was doing this. He wasn’t going to even consider the possible ramifications for a phenomenon that actively defied the laws of the universe. He was certainly not going to interfere and determine whether this particular spacetime anomaly needed to be stopped, along with whatever had created it, if anything or anyone had, in fact, created it.
“That’s it,” he thought with frustration, as he manoeuvred the Tardis into the time-stream of the planet Selmtruki. A planet of plant people according to the Tardis; long ago, some civilisation or another decided to play god and gave some plant life, well, life, accelerating their evolution a thousandfold. The Selmtrukians had an industrial revolution before they knew what was happening. Stupid, irresponsible people, he really ought to pay them a visit someday.
This irresponsibility had left them very plant-like, which unfortunately meant somewhat ruthless; their history was full of backstabbing, mercilessness, and taking candy from children. Only in the past few decades had they begun to settle down much.
The Tardis let out a questioning whir. Something along the lines of “Are you really not going to interfere?”
“No,” said the Doctor. “Or yes, I suppose. Or… look, I’m just looking. A charged vacuum emboitement is a matter for the Time Lords, not me. This is their responsibility, not mine. I’m just curious, that’s all. If there’s an invasion from another universe, it’s up to them this time, not me.”
The Tardis didn’t respond, which the Doctor found more damning than any comment she could’ve made. Honestly, the nerve of her sometimes! Whose side was she even on, he wondered.
He shook the thoughts from his head and made a few final adjustments, then landed the Tardis. He turned on the Tardis scanner; breathable atmosphere, fairly earth-like gravity (maybe a touch lighter), and he was in a dark corner, away from the prying eyes of all the scientists examining the charged vacuum emboitement.
"Now why are they doing that?" muttered the Doctor. By all rights, they shouldn't even know it was there. He only knew because the Tardis picked up on a weakening in the time vortex that correlated with data gathered by the Logopolitans. Something the Selmtrukians definitely shouldn't be able to do.
"Well, let's have a looksie, shall we?" said the Doctor. He activated the doors and hastened out, his mind already whirling with possibilities; was it one of the Eternals, desperate for attention? The Black Guardian, seeking to unleash chaos on the universe by connecting it to another? Or possibly worse, did someone with access to or knowledge of CVE technology give it to the Selmtruki people? That would explain how they came to know about its existence.
And all the technology around it! How in the universe had he missed that?
Was this a Time Lord's doing? The Master? Or perhaps the Monk? It could be the Rani, but this wasn’t quite her style. Unless she was trying to access creatures with a brand new and utterly unique genetic makeup. In which case, he might have to free some poor creatures before—
Damn it! He was doing it again, thinking about interfering, about taking responsibility for things that weren’t his to take responsibility of! Time Lord’s problem, not his.
He sighed and pressed on, stuffing his hands into his pockets. There was a large machine in the centre of the room, wires and cables snaking back and forth, connecting the machine to computers, or disappearing into the walls. Definitely locally built.
“Excuse me,” said a slimy voice from next to him. The Doctor turned, as though startled. The owner of the voice was humanoid but was made out of vines. He had a white lab coat. Why were they always in white lab coats, wondered the Doctor. Every planet, they were the same.
“Oh, hello,” he said. He stuck out a hand. “I’m the Doctor, I—”
“Just what do you think you’re doing here?” asked the Selmtrukian. “I told Ruithon that I don’t need any more scientists. Who are you?”
“Perhaps,” thought the Doctor, “Just perhaps, I should carry a scrap of psychic paper more often.” “I’m the Doctor,” he said. “I take it you’re in charge here.”
“Well, I am Phalrn,” said the viny fellow. That sounded like it meant something.
“Ah, good,” said the Doctor. “I’ve been looking for you. Um, Ruithon sent me down, something about every available scientist—”
Phalrn snarled. “After everything I’ve done, does Ruithon still not think I know what I’m doing?”
“I’m sure Ruithon’s confident in your abilities,” assured the Doctor. “They probably just think that you’d want every available variable covered; after all, dealing with a phenomenon like this—”
“HA!” barked Phalrn. “That alone shows what you know. This isn’t a phenomenon! It didn’t appear out of thin air! It’s a work of art! The Charged Vacuum Emboitement is the greatest achievement of my life!”
Oh, dear. This was not good. This was, in fact, quite bad. The Doctor gave Phalrn a sideways look; oh yes, his biodata had been altered, his personal history tampered with. Something was at play here, something that’s been working on Phalrn for a very long time, probably since he was a child – beings that knew how to make CVEs tended to live a very long time. Forever, usually.
“Well, be as that may,” said the Doctor cautiously, “I was sent here to do what I can to help, and that is what I’ll do.”
Phalrn grumbled, and his viny arms twisted and writhed. But in the end, he let out a sigh. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” said the Doctor. “Now, tell me everything.”
Phalrn started walking over to a station. The Doctor followed close behind, keeping a temporal eye on the CVE. Time was crystalizing around it, forming a fixed point. There was a definite feeling of evil around it, like the shadow of a growing cloud.
The Doctor turned his attention back to Phalrn. He had a report in his hand, or what passed for a hand. He handed it to the Doctor, who looked over it greedily.
The first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t actually opened yet. It was still in some sort of pre-opened phase, like soda in a shaken bottle. Fizzing, ready to explode, but the cap was still on. That might explain how they were able to scan anything. Things were making a little more sense now. Still, he should have noticed all the technology. To mess with the Tardis' scanners so expertly...
“Interesting,” he murmured, going over what he knew of CVEs. Ordinarily, one would simply use block transfer equations to create the whole thing, but apparently someone decided to shake things up. No matter, machine-made CVEs weren't unknown - dangerously unstable, but not unknown. “Okay, quantum possibility limiters, good; kinetic energy absorption field holding steady; quantum particle agitators ready; temporal shields optimised, excellent; spacial restrictors doing alright, but I’d increase the power there if I were you, always good to have more than necessary, just in case; entanglement inducers primed and ready; block transfer equations all correct; well, everything seems to be in or- ooh, that’s interesting. You’ve made your drones out of strange matter, covered them in an electromagnetic shield with a micro-grav generator inside. Interesting, should get them through alright, but why the strange matter?”
“To get them back of course,” said Phalrn. “I hypothesise that the journey to another universe will have a drastic impact on the drones, so profound that—”
“That the physical energy profile of the drones reverses, of course!” exclaimed the Doctor. “The energy reverses, equal but opposite, and the drones come flying back, with all the data they’ve acquired. It’ll be a bit dodgy, but it should work. That’s brilliant.”
“Or it would be if it weren’t being used for evil,” thought the Doctor sourly.
“I know,” said Phalrn. Now he was definitely smirking. “But…”
He faltered, and the Doctor looked at the report once more. “Oh, but you can’t get past the pre-open phase, can you? Well, no wonder. Your particle beam’s too powerful, you’ll just blast the drones into the void between realities, through one universe, and then back into the void - it’s completely unfocused, you’ve got no real destination. No-no-no-no, you need to dial it down at least six-point-five-three, no, five-seven kilozels, then increase power for the electromagnetic focusers—”
Phalrn turned an interesting shade of purple. “What? That’s absurd! Those calculations are perfect! Give me that!” He snatched the report back and looked over the numbers. “This is perfect! What kind of scientist are you?”
“Oh come on!” exclaimed the Doctor, snatching the report back. “Even if your beam’s not too powerful, look here – the electromagnetic focusers are too weak. They can’t properly constrict the beam, so whenever they pass through a universe, no, the moment they leave this universe, the particles disperse, and the inter-universal bridge you’re trying to create will be destroyed. If you sent a drone through that, you’d never get it back. It would be drifting through the Void for eternity.”
Phalrn snatched the report once again, all but yelling, “Those focusers have been perfectly calibrated! They restrict the beam just enough to reach the desired location, and no further! I am fully aware of the dispersal effects and have factored them into my calculations!”
“Then why can’t you turn it on?” asked the Doctor. Honestly, this man was an idiot. What was his benefactor doing?
“Whatever is going wrong, it’s not the particle beam or the shields,” insisted Phalrn.
The Doctor held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright, look, how about this: we try it my way, adjust the electromagnetic focusers and the particle beam, and if it works, it proves I was right. If it doesn’t, then I’ll admit you were right, and I was wrong. It won’t waste that much power and no more time than you already have. How does that sound?”
The Selmtrukian scientist grimaced, but then said, “Fine. Go ahead and make the necessary adjustments.”
With a dramatic swirl of his coat, the Doctor dashed to a nearby control station, looking around. Really, he didn’t need to look so busy, he figured the controls out almost immediately, and he could sabotage the machine quite easily. Just a few alterations to power allocation, overload a few things, and it would be done.
But he was thinking. All this was odd; very, really, impressively odd, and was undoubtedly some evil scheme. And yet, the Doctor couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something… something…
He let out a huff of frustration. He didn’t have the words, but he kept picturing a certain type of flower that could only be found on the planet Draysi, a world that had been devastated by Dalek forces. It only grew in the craters where cities used to be. It was quite beautiful, in its own way.
He had to keep going. Something was interfering with the planet’s history and its progression. Something that he could, maybe, turn to good.
And so, abandoning his plan to simply sabotage the machine, he flicked a few switches, pressed a few buttons, and increased the strength of the electromagnetic focusers, while weakening the particle beam. As he did so, something else occurred to him – where did they get the power? Nuclear energy, the species’ main source of energy, was all well and good, but unless you had a few hundred Jupiters’ worth of nuclear reactors, you wouldn’t get very far.
But there was no time to wonder about that. Seconds after he made the adjustments, there was a loud bang! like thunder and a shockwave threw everyone to the ground! The Doctor fell on his side, his temporal and dimensional senses on fire and keeping him curled up on the ground. He knew the opening of a CVE was a purportedly legendary affair, but he’d never felt it in person. It was exhilarating!
“I should try it more often,” he thought briefly. Physically, not that impressive. But temporally? It was like being in a crashing ship; it felt like someone had torn a hole in the vortex. Probably because someone had torn a hole in the vortex. Oh, the Time Lords would pay attention now. They’d have to deal with it, surely.
With a groan and a gasp, the Doctor stood back up, clutching to the control station. Everyone seemed to recover fairly quickly. “Oh, the joys of being time-insensitive,” he chuckled.
“Is everyone alright?” asked the Doctor. He got a few positive-sounding responses before—
“No, you idiot!” yelled Phalrn. “What have you done? You might’ve just ruined everything! I’ll have your job for this if I don’t have your head! You’ll never work again!”
The Doctor blinked, confused. Strictly speaking, Phalrn wasn’t wrong, but still. “What? Ruined everything? What do you mean, I just made it work. CVEs open violently, didn’t you know that? What else did you expect?”
Phalrn blinked, taken aback for a moment. Curiouser and curiouser. “Well, if you knew that would happen,” he said, gritting whatever he had instead of teeth, “You could at least have warned everyone, and not let us all be thrown around!”
“So,” muttered the Doctor to himself, keeping a very tenuous lid on his temper. “You didn’t know? That’s interesting. Perhaps whoever taught you this didn’t know either? Or perhaps they didn’t care.”
As he stood, gazing at the CVE, a very angry and shouty Phalrn started ordering scientists about, telling them to start scanning the CVE and to prepare the drones. But even as the first scientist to reach a scanner picked one up, another loud bang sounded throughout the room! More like a gun, this time, loud and piercing, and less like a bomb.
The Doctor clasped his head in pain! A universe was reaching out to him, so alien to his own! Memories of the Divergent universe flooded his mind – Charlie, the sound creature, anti-time, Rassilon, Zagreus—
“NO!” thought the Doctor, retreating into himself, freezing in place. “I won’t let this… Zagreus is gone, the Divergent Universe is gone, and it’s all gone for good! This universe has time, it’s alright, I can feel it. It’s not that different, I’m just overreacting.”
He took a moment to breathe, letting his muscles relax. Then he felt something. Something new, something ancient, something wholly alien and terribly familiar. A mind that didn’t come from this universe, reaching out to his. A mind in turmoil, frightened and dazed. A mind he felt a kinship with.
The Doctor recoiled, then reached out himself. It was, all in all, a nice mind. Unfathomably ancient, and deep, so very deep. Deep, as the depths of the greatest ocean planets, vast as the black hole at the centre of the galaxy. It was kind and wise, quick to joy and anger alike. There was love there, love for all beings, the great and the little, for lifting up the downtrodden and the oppressed, for chasing away bad dreams. There was anger and sorrow mingled as well, directed at the cruel and the oppressive, the arrogant and the wicked; sorrow that they had fallen so far, anger that they stayed there, revelling in their moral squalor.
It was like the sun: life-giving, death-defying, fear-ending, hope-renewing, evil-burning.
The mind noticed the Doctor, and he felt like he was being yanked into the deep end of the pool, and the world faded.
“Where… am… I?” asked the voice. No, the voices. There were two, one young, one old, both quite similar. The Doctor couldn’t see them, couldn’t see anything. The world had gone bright white, with no shape, no form. But it was all in his mind, he knew. The being was doing this, as a defence mechanism, probably.
“You’re on the planet Selmtruki,” answered the Doctor carefully. There was something about this being, aside from the ancientness, that reeked of power. A power that, if startled or triggered, might cause a lot of trouble for everyone in its vicinity. That’s how it usually went, in the Doctor’s not-inconsiderable experience.
“I do not recognise that name,” said the being, with growing concern. The edges of the nothingness swirled. “I do not know this planet - what is this feeling? Where am I?”
“Look, let’s start from the start: why don’t you tell me your name?” asked the Doctor. He had to try and cool things down. “I’m the Doctor, I’m here to help.”
“Name?” repeated the being, and the Doctor felt the sudden sensation of a summer evening on a grassy knoll, a cool breeze in his hair, and also the feeling of weary legs and aching backs, and pulling the fallen to their feet, and the warm hearth; there was the feeling of pleasant dreams settling restless nights. His voices sounded confused. “I do not remember. I have had a name, or many, perhaps. It has not been long since I used them or since another has used one. But I do not remember. I was… or I am? Wizard? The Grey Pilgrim? I… That is all I know. But why do I not remember more? My mind is in turmoil, oh, what a mess! A Eru, manomë samyë tulanna‽”
Well, this wasn’t much to work with, but that title was interesting. The Grey Pilgrim sounded like something he’d get called, especially back in his first body. And Eru, that name definitely rang a bell. Somewhere.
The Doctor focused. “Look, why don’t I call you the Wizard, and you can call me the Doctor? I can help you remember your name if you’d like.”
The being didn’t answer at once, and the Doctor had the strange feeling he was searching for something. “I thank you, Doctor,” he said when he seemed to stop searching. “I must rest now.”
Suddenly everything was back. The Doctor blinked a couple of times before adjusting to the light. All around him, scientists were scrambling, and there was yelling by someone, probably Phalrn. The familiar scent of smoke reached the Doctor.
When he adjusted to the light, he saw an old man laying face down on the floor by the CVE, with several scientists around him. The Doctor dashed over.
“Everyone back,” he ordered. “I said back! It’s alright, I’m a Doctor. He needs room to breathe.”
Slowly, the scientists crept back. Well, couldn’t fault them for being curious; that was their job. The Doctor just hoped their curiosity wouldn’t lead them to do horribly unethical things that meant he’d have to intervene any more than he’d like.
Carefully, he turned the man over. So, this was the Wizard. An apt name, really. Classic wizard: long, white beard, robes that seemed to glow, staff. There was also a sword, as well as a pouch. On his hand was a ring with a red gem.
The Doctor reached for his neck, hoping for a heartbeat. Would a being like this even have a heartbeat? For one thing, he was from another universe. For another, he was an ancient being, with a very alien nature; even if he came from this universe, he might have no heartbeat.
Fortunately, there was one. Unfortunately, it was rather… erratic. It had periods of regularity and then periods of irregularity. Moments of strength and moments of weakness. It made no sense to the Doctor.
“Right, he’s going to need to rest,” said the Doctor, putting a bit of authority into his voice. “Nobody is to give him any medicine, just observation for now; we don’t know what kind of biology he has yet, an aspirin might kill him. I’ll check up on him as soon as I can. Is there a spare room he can rest in?”
“Yes,” said an oak-ish being, picking the… well, the Wizard up and carrying him out of the room. The Doctor called after him, “And remember, no medicine of any kind, nothing intrusive, certainly! Not even so much as a thermometer to check his temperature!”
Not that it would have done them any good. A human temperature might be as good as boiling for the being, and whatever the average temperature for a being here was might be close to freezing for the Wizard. Who knows, the average temperature for a Time Lord might just evaporate him!
Well, no, that wasn’t quite true. The building was a cosy twenty-three degrees Celsius, so the Wizard could evidently withstand that much. And he had neither combusted nor frozen, so evidently there were enough similarities between this universe and that one to permit an incursion. But how long would this universe permit such an intrusion?
“How dare you!” Phalrn’s dulcet screech shook the Doctor out of his thoughts. He turned to the viny Selmtrukian – he was an interesting shade of purple. “You have no right to just usurp my authority like that!”
The Doctor resisted the urge to groan. “What now?”
Phalrn stuck an accusing finger… vine… at the Doctor. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Do you think you can usurp my authority, and get all the glory? No, I won’t let you!”
The Doctor sighed, trying to keep his voice level. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to usurp your authority, it was an accident, a force of habit. But I promise you, I’m not interested in glory, or anything like that. Look, why don’t we just get the readings for the scanner? There’s bound to be something interesting after a CVE opened. I’ll just follow your lead.”
That appealed to Phalrn (that, and the Doctor had exuded a great deal of psychic energy into that suggestion), and they went over to one of the computers, Phalrn somehow letting out a league’s worth of grumbling in just ten metres. He and the Doctor spent the next half an hour going over the numbers. Several times the arrogant scientist got something wrong, but after the first two times, the Doctor stopped correcting him. Whatever was behind this probably got its own, more accurate readings. It didn’t need theirs.
Afterwards, Phalrn reluctantly gave him leave to check up on the Wizard. The head scientist had to talk with Ruithon (see: yell). The Doctor was soon escorted to the Wizard, his mind racing at a million lightyears an hour. He had to focus on breathing to keep himself contained. As much as he was angry at Phalrn and whoever was helping him, he had to admit this was exciting. A brand-new alien species, one that had a universe (relatively) compatible with his own. And not just an alternate timeline, either. He was a bit giddy.
The oak-ish being, Ilruthk, opened the door for him. The Wizard was lying there, peacefully, now changed into hospital gowns; his items had evidently been taken to storage. It was a bit small, but there was plenty of moonlight, so that was a bonus.
“Thank you,” said the Doctor. “I’ll take it from here.”
Ilruthk nodded and lumbered off. The Doctor closed the door behind him and switched on the lights. He checked the Wizard’s pulse – good, it was steady now. His temperature seemed fine. He had a healthy glow to him.
In fact, it was more than a healthy glow. He was positively luminescent! And growing brighter by the second, regeneration yellow. And it wasn’t just physical light he was emitting, o no, there was a higher-dimensional aspect to it!
The lights grew brighter and brighter. The Doctor had to shield his eyes, had to close himself off to the deeper and higher echelons of the universe, and even then it was like looking at the sun through poorly made sunglasses.
He heard voices, echoing through the dimensions. A youthful, energetic voice, full of righteous anger and power. And an old, weary voice, imbued with the wisdom of long toil and history. They cried out together, and then with a sound like planets crashing, they split, and the youthful voice vanished in a gust of air that knocked the Doctor back a pace. The old one lingered, slowly fading into silence.