Time.
Time feels different… No, it feels wrong.
It’s not everyday I, or anybody back at home really, says that.
Somehow, in some strange twist of fate, I’ve found myself floating through a seemingly endless void that heavily restricts any movements I attempt to make, causing the most simplest of actions, such as twitching my finger, to become a struggle to accomplish, and leaving me stranded with nothing but my dulling thoughts to keep me company.
Thoughts that were largely overtaken by the strange and, admittedly, rather disgusting nature of the impure time flowing around me.
Never in my - admittedly short - life have I ever felt time corrupted to this extent. Both my mind and body were in a constant state of distress and panic; my own conscious begging me to run as far away as I could from where ever I found myself in, only for any attempts I make to be foiled rather quickly due to the repressing pressure surrounding me.
Breathing was already an impossible task to accomplish, and even if air is in abundant supply in the vast expanse of nothing in every direction around me, I doubt I hold enough strength within me to take in a proper breath.
The situation I’ve found myself in had gotten to the point where, despite being a lord, or rather, lady of time myself, my own body was finally beginning to grow wary due to warding off the corrupted time from flowing through me. My mental shields had begun to crack, and my lacking of air has made defending my mind and body a much harder ordeal than it was an hour ago, causing a significant strain on my very being.
Despite my best efforts, the corrupted time was relentless, and by this point, had already broken through more than a few of my mental walls I had deployed, causing an extreme pain to surge through my right arm and parts of my thigh.
However, there is nothing more that I could do other than hold the rest of the corruption at bay.
The mere thought that it’s gotten to this point due to my lack of air gave me a confirmation that I’ve been dreading…
Despite it feeling as if days, possibly weeks have past, it hasn’t even been an hour yet…
Heh.
This is a new, almost depressing feeling…
I did understand that most of the lower lifeforms and, hell, even some of the other chronosensitive species couldn’t truly tap into time’s power, but to think such a day where my boon would become so detrimental to myself…
Time has always been my race’s forte. being able to manipulate it, bend it to our will, and command it was what set my people apart from the others, hence why we took it upon ourselves to protect it, even punishing those who would exploit it’s power for their own personal gain, whether timelord or some other troublesome species.
To think that such a connection that had elevated my race to the mythical status it stood at until recently would put me, a child of time, in such a dire situation…
It’s truly laughable.
This whole experience is slowly driving me mad… well, madder I suppose.
I am fully aware of how long a timelord can stay conscious for, and how long their body could last afterward without oxygen, of course. I’ve even trained myself in that regard in preparation for whatever situation I could find myself in, courtesy of the tips and tricks guidebook my survival class instructor handed out in the academy.
However, I prided myself on technological and survival fields, and while I did take my training in exploration classes seriously, none of anything they had taught could have ever prepared me for this!
What good would knowing how to make a staser out of primitive materials do in a void, all the while I’m slowly running out of air?!
There’s not even scraps here I could use to construct the damn thing! Not that it would be useful anyhow, but still…
…I can’t even truly take my temper out without serious risk to myself. What bullshit.
I either seethe in anger for however long I have left or try and take it out on the nothingness surrounding and waste what little oxygen my body is surviving off of.
What a way to go…death by suffocation…
That was apparently number thirteenth on the most painful ways to die on a pamphlet the academy handed out regarding the best and worst ways to regenerate… I suppose it was an attempt to make some of the bored or curious freshmen feel less pain and regret if they decided to off themselves.
Heh. showing up to class with a new face always would be the center of attention throughout the day.
…
My thoughts are wondering…
That’s never a good sign. At least it did manage to cool my anger though, at least somewhat.
I finish suppressing my fear, panic and anger as I forcefully calm my body, calming my hearts back to a slightly slower than normal resting rhythm.
I don’t have long left… I can feel it. My lungs desperately wanted to burst, wanted to take in a breath of fresh air, but I once again suppressed the desire.
I’ve been holding it in for so, so long now…
I can feel portions of my body shutting down, with my right arm and thigh being the first to go, in an attempt to conserve what little oxygen it can and diverting it to other vital areas.
It’s not like I care to stop the instinctual reaction, as It’ll let my last slightly longer than I would’ve otherwise, and I’ve already numbed my entire body earlier to escape from the intense pressure and the corrupted time that infiltrated my body.
…
Is this some kind of retribution? Did the universe not want us lords of time anymore? Was it something we did?
But…We’ve been around for billions and billions of years, so why now? Why in my lifetime? Was it something that I, specifically, did that condemned my entire race?
What purpose does the war serve? Why have I found myself in this hostile environment?
For what purpose? Why?
Why?
…Why…?
I begin feeling my mind growing dangerously sluggish and repetitive over the past few minutes, my thoughts having been thoroughly derailed from the urgency of the situation.
The urge to breath had never been greater in my century of life…So young too…I had planned to explore the stars for a few decade right after I graduated from the academy. With the council’s permission, of course.
Somehow, in some way, I’ve found my vision growing darker despite the absence of light within the eternal darkness that’s tightly blanketing me as I breath out the carbon-rich air from my lungs and cast it into my surroundings.
The quieting beats of my own two hearts is deafening in the silent void, which seemed to grow even colder as my body heat rapidly dropped almost instantaneously now that my internal plugs have been released.
The time had finally arrived, and I felt my consciousness fade for the last time…
*
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
*
VWOORP
A deep blue light caressed my eyelids, beckoning them to open, shortly followed after with a comforting Gallifreyan melody accompanied with faint but rigid vibrations, contracting and undoing all of the work the light had previously made in my awakening.
It all feels surreal, as if I were there but wasn’t, simply a passenger in my own body, unable to truly make a conscious effort in my awakening.
However, none that that truly mattered in my semi-conscious state.
The air felt pure; Time felt pure
Time, the pure variant, untainted with whatever corruption laid in the void I found myself in, lingered in the air as if asking for permission to enter, and I gladly accepted.
The pure flow of power swept through me, washing away any lingering wisp of the tainted corruption that managed to force its way past my barriers before my demise, finally giving me relief from my torment.
This…
I quickly found the strength within me to push my mind back into sync with my body, and as I did so, the sensations surround my body grew exponentially.
When I felt that my mind was finally ready to accept the visual input, I opened my eyes and gazed upon my TARDIS while bathing in the noise of my home whilst in flight and the fresh time and air surrounding me.
This is bliss…
The Gallifreyan melody playing in the background came to an unfortunate end, and a new melody emerged. The vibrations that coursed through my body shifted in intervals slightly, picking up a new rhythm to go along with what was playing in the background.
Time continued to surge through me, though it quickly settled down to a comforting hum within my subconscious, allowing me to pull upon its power whenever I wished to.
My body laid sprawled out across the glass and metal flooring surrounding the console unit, and I was perfectly content to stay in such a position, but I knew I had to get up.
If what time relayed to me is anything to go by, then I’ve been unconscious for around three days at this point. Well, three days, twelve minutes, and a couple dozen seconds.
As much as I hate to admit this, whatever the void incident was can wait. Whether it was simply a separate dimension with dilated time, a hallucination, or some other cosmic event took place, my TARDIS has been in flight the whole time.
Three days, that is.
It would be in both mine and my TARDIS’s best interest to materialize and settle down somewhere for a short while to let her recuperate.
With a sigh, I reached up to grab hold of the console unit and, using it as a leverage point, stiffly rose to my feet.
It’s been awhile since I’ve been unconscious for more than twenty minutes. Perhaps it would do me some good to get a few more hours of rest in my bed after we land…
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Come on, lets find a nice, cozy spot to land.” I spoke softly, gently patting the console as I talked.
Shifting my weight around in an attempt to ignore the stiffness persisting throughout my body, I leaned over towards the screen on my right and checked the readings displayed in circular Gallifreyan.
It seems that we’ve been hanging out in limbo for around three hours now, allowing her to catch up on some of the power drained throughout the trip.
That’s good. She has already gained quite a bit of power back despite my absence. Still, it’ll take a few days at this rate, and I’d rather not have to deal with finding more Zeiton-seven crystals after…
after…
right…I’m all alone.
And, didn’t that fact hit like a collision event.
Pushing those thoughts out of the way, I shifted my weight and leaned across the console unit, checking some of the readings I found.
No time ships detected within fifty galactic quadrants from my position.
…I could increase the range, but…
What would be the point?
I shifted over towards another panel and began typing away, casting my thoughts behind a couple mental shields to isolate and deal with later.
Right! landing. Simple enough.
I leaned over and tapped a screen to my right. Navigation combined with maintaining the other systems was always a nightmare when your piloting alone and already in-flight.
Difficult doesn’t mean impossible, though.
Sol III, then? A strange choice, indeed. Primitive life and their technology levels leave much to be desired.
Granted, I don’t necessarily need to interact with the primitive lifeforms. Maybe I’ll just land on their natural satellite instead?
Yeah, that sounds like a plan.
Inputting the new rough coordinates, I begin manually scouting for a safe spot to land. I would never admit it aloud, but, with the war and all, I’ve been…neglecting maintenance.
Landing inside the walls of my own place of residence at the time was an absolute embarrassment. Thankfully, nobody saw nor heard.
They might have felt the disturbance, but if they did, nobody mentioned it.
Finishing with all the necessary preparations, I held my pointer finger around a symbol on the panel I’m standing in front of while hanging my foot across two other panels to reach the other end, expertly maintaining stability, if only in an aberrant manner.
Swinging my pointer finger around the Gallifreyan symbol clockwise, my T.A.R.D.I.S. began the materialization process, and I scrambled around the console unit to engage or disengage any systems as needed to complete the materialization sequence.
Of course, when a ding sounded out, indicating the arrival of something on the diagnostics subpage on one of the console screens, I would have liked to check it out, but my hands, feet, and eyes were a little preoccupied with not vaporizing Sol III’s natural satellite if I ended up screwing something up.
I sure as hell regret not risking the damn moon now, I thought while dodging a loose roundel that came flying towards my head like a killer frisbee.
My surroundings were in utter chaos, what, with my many roundels and support beams tearing themselves off and out of the walls.
The glass above me, the reinforced glass that held special properties allowing the occupants inside the console room to see the stars and other important celestial events, started cracking.
The damn glass that could withstand a fucking planetary collision on it’s lonesome, without the use of shield generators, was CRACKING. The stars that were supposed to be outside were nowhere to be seen.
The stars are often showed as they are, no alterations. The TARDIS gets a real-time image of them, and projects it accordingly.
Of course, with the TARDIS’s exterior’s spinney nature, they balls of gasses would often be in some form of movement.
If they were seemingly not there anymore? Well, that could mean that she either traveled so far through time, either forwards or backwards without her noticing, or her T.A.R.D.I.S. was moving and slash or spinning so fast, the damn life-giving balls of superheated-death couldn’t be visible.
I choose the latter.
Oh, how could a simple materialization cause so much trouble?
Granted, it was technically the most dangerous part of vortex flight, but still, the odds of that were practically null in her T.A.R.D.I.S. model…
My instincts screamed at me to move my head to the right, and seconds later, a piece of metal scrap torn off one of the support beams flew by slamming into the time column.
The time column that was currently moving erratically, trying desperately to regain control of my out-of-control timeship.
Shit.
If those Artron reservoir rods within the time column break out of the time rotor containment and through the cracking glass of the time column…
With the chaos that’s happening around, the rods wouldn’t last long.
Luckily there were safe guards in place, so if they do break free, they would use the energy stored within to shield itself rather than risk them breaking and causing a fucking galactic implosion within my last piece of home, but still.
That’s decades worth of time in fabrication should they break, and sure, while I could fold time - as that violation of time had been lifted during the war - to make it near instantaneous from my view point, the Artron costs would be enormous. Replenishing the energy reserves shouldn’t take all that much comparatively, but its still an energy expenditure.
With newfound determination, I- ducked under yet another piece of debris, and reached out to- shift my weight around to lift my leg, to avoid an early amputation. I reached out towards the console unit and-
Barely avoided yet another roundel aimed at my shoulder. Damn it. So many distractions.
Finally reaching out without any immediate risk, I tapped the Gallifreyan writing displayed in red - due to the emergency status of my timeship - and circled either clockwise or anti-clockwise to control the chaos within the inner dimensions.
Damnit. This’ll put massive strain on one of the Time Vector Generators, but…
Quickly inputting the rough calculations needed while avoiding whatever shrapnel that comes at me, I begin the process of creating a highly unstable, completely temporary micro-universe, to focus the destruction through here.
Rather quickly I realized this wouldn’t last long. That was fine, I shouldn’t need too much time…I hope.
With practiced ease that a mere century year old girl like myself shouldn’t be capable of producing, I danced around the console unit, taking advantage of the momentary lack of shrapnel aiming to maim me.
Unfortunately, the time vector generator that I sacrificed to do this rushed job didn’t last as long as I’d had hoped.
Flames that burned hotter than they had any right to sparked up, melting the metal and fracturing, nearly shattering, the remaining glass.
The central platform that housed the control unit had three other pathways to get to the outer ring, which is where the main exit and the entrance into the depths of my T.A.R.D.I.S. are located.
All three of those pathways’ main walkways are made of glass, and one of them has already shattered, sending most of the shards down into the lower platform levels below.
Most. Not all, unfortunately, as the shards joined in with it’s maiming friends to try and kill me.
This is too much stress for someone so young!
Regardless of my inner turmoil of getting grey hair several millennia early, I continued this deadly game of cat and mouse with the metal debris and glass shards.
And if I nearly shrieked when a glass panel beneath me began showing signs of shattering? Well, nobody knew.
Why the hell is my T.A.R.D.I.S. falling apart so easily?
I swiftly reached over and double tapped a Gallifreyan symbol on the red display before suddenly flipping myself over the console, dodging a sheet of metal that came flying and slammed into the time column.
Right. The reservoir rods.
This day just keeps getting worse and worse.
Well, maybe I should say week? I mean, there was the whole void incident. No, month? Century?
The past three centuries just keep getting worse and worse. There, much better.
Damn paradoxical casual loops that made up the time war. Which was anything but casual. In fact, the war was rather bloody. Entire civilizations wiped out because one of the sides involved in the war decided to use the planet as a battering ram.
Those were always a disaster to deal with if you’re stranded without your T.A.R.D.I.S. Most of the time, that’ll simply kill you until the loop of the war reset, and then your back home with all your memories, experiences, and the pain you went through. None of the equipment or trinkets we had would follow us, though, as they weren’t protected from such resets like us lords of time naturally were. And our T.A.R.D.I.S.’s. and whatever else we deemed important enough to create an artificial chronoshield for...
Quickly swinging around the console yet again while tapping and swiping the controls as needed, I was suddenly glad my T.A.R.D.I.S. chose a digital console unit for me.
If it had physical controls, with all the disks of metal flying around, they would undoubtedly hit some of the buttons, switches, and levers and disturb my work.
They’ve already disrupted my work by cracking many of the screens. Luckily, most are still functional, par from the diagnostics panel, that is.
I’ll have to go all the way down the hall, through several twists and turns, to reach the secondary diagnostics block.
I smirk wrily at the thought. I’ll have to calculate on the go and manually figure out the problems.
I reach out - dodging a couple more times to tap another Gallifreyan symbol on the screen - before suddenly jerking back.
I won’t get anything done like this, I grimly thought. I have five more vector generators, only two of which are free for use.
Glancing up slightly at the suspension-looking coil around the top of the time column, which had a metal tube connecting to the ceiling, which split into eight other metal strips with glass filling in between the strips. Glass that’s cracking. Glass that shows the exterior and a lack of stars.
Glass that I’m now somehow standing on.
Huh. Gravity must have cut-
My mind blanks momentarily while I reinforce my natural defenses as I realize the severity of the issue at hand.
Gravity is cut. Gravity is cut while there’s enough inertia to make a thin sheet of paper a fatal weapon.
Shit.
While my mind is working at max speed, thereby slowing everything down to a near halt, I begin thinking on anything that could help me in this situation.
I’m weightless, moments away from making out with a wall while smearing my flattened body against it. Glass beneath me with-
Wait, why is the glass beneath me? I prepared myself to run a couple hundred simulations on the matter in where I would be flipped due to a simple gravity cut, but was saved the trouble when I came across the answer within a dozen or so, and, well-
It’s not cut! It’s Inverted! but then, that means I’ve got roughly eleven seconds before a malfunction occurs, which would then cause gravity to cut. I can work with this!
slowing down my mind ever so slightly to allow visible movements of my body, I begin slowly inching forward.
It’s been a while since I’ve last done a mental test, so I have no idea how fast I’m capable of thinking.
I reach out and, as gently as possible, grab a sheet of metal that’s spinning out of control.
If I don’t want to spin myself to death, I need just the briefest of contact. Even then though, I’ll still gain a bit too much momentum for my liking.
Pushing off the metal sheet that seemed to be in stasis, I began spinning as predicted. I carefully grabbed another, seemingly stationary object, pushing off of it while trying to bleed the majority of my momentum into it.
It barely slowed my rotational speed down while giving me the push I needed. This’ll take a while.
Slowly, I moved through what could only be described as an asteroid field, albeit with scrap and glass instead. My hands bled from misjudging my own strength. A slight hiccup that’s normal when living in a body three hundred years in counting of development, only to die and be reverted to your younger variant.
I continued on like this, slowly gaining more ground - or is it air? - towards the console unit. Gravity will cut in six seconds, and I’m only half way through the gymnasium sized control room.
I need something more.
I racked my brain for ideas, and decided to go for one of the less far fetched ideas.
That being: use a gun.
Under normal circumstances, an energy weapon won’t really have that much recoil. unless you have a truly impressive capacitor, that is.
And if timelords can do one thing, it’s making everything transdimensional.
Including capacitors. However, with six seconds still remaining, I’m not positive I could reach into my coat pocket, reach for my energy weapon, change the mode off of stun and overclock it, and then point it behind me before firing.
All the while avoiding the other shrapnel I might hit while being propelled by the weapon.
It’s a very risky gamble. The only other thing I could think of that could possibly work with my limited resources would be to open up my regeneration veins and let loose, but the damage that would cause to my already broken, but lovable, timeship would be catastrophic.
I pull on another piece of metal, careful to avoid the sharp edges, as I make my decision.
Moving my hand as fast as I could in my slowly perceived surroundings, I begin hunting for my energy weapon.
Using my other hand, I began clearing out what’s in my immediate vicinity while calculating the route I’ll need to take.
Seven seconds, now. And I haven’t even taken the damn gun out of my pocket yet.
I begin swerving my body to the most suitable area as my arm flies out of my pocket, noticeable speed to it despite my high mental processing power at the moment.
With a flip of the button, I changed the mode from stun to burst. With yet another click, green-like veins open up against the handle of the gun going up against the barrel. With one final click, the veins turn red, and I pull the trigger.
BANG
My momentum took a noticeable turn, as I flung myself in the proper direction, slightly away from the console unit.
BANG
Another shot, visible smoke coming from the barrel and with grip. The red lines were pulsing.
BANG
using my other hand, I manually fling a piece of metal out of the way, cutting myself in the process. It wasn’t a bad cut. Honestly, I’m a little surprised. Timelords have an excellent resistance to blunt force trauma, and better than average piercing resistance compared to most species, but with the high inertia and material the former support beam was made from, those resistances seems like a rather moot point.
BAM
A noticeable difference in sound, and the heat the gun’s producing is nothing to scoff at. I’m already past the point of no return. With three seconds left, and one shot left in the gun before it completely fries itself, I’ve got to make this count.
ZAMFH
…And there it is. The finishing blow. The gun’s barrel had blown open, which is expected. This was a weapon created by me centuries ago, after all, and while I was - am - proud of my first ever energy weapon, I knew I could do better after three hundred years of tinkering. Not to mention the ones produced in the factories or by fabrication were of much higher quality.
I let go of , and reach forward, pulling on the last bit of debris. A piece of glass, from the screen of the console unit, and a still glowing, red roundel.
One second.
With my outstretched hand, I practically slam my finger onto the screen.
Zero.
Weightlessness, in the true sense, takes over.
I attempt to speed up my thought processes as fast as possible, but It hardly helps as the inertia takes over, and I slam against the glass making up the platform in which the console unit rests on.
And darkness is what greets me.