CHAPTER 1: The Man Who Wasn't There

Calloused feet, dirty and bruised, dug into the worn rock incline. Pair beside pair, row after row, they battled desperately for traction, yet couldn't help but slip against the enormous mass that pressed upon them from in front. Its force was imposing. Its weight was immense. But an army of bodies, caked with desert sand that clung to every bead of sweat, heaved a guttural groan under the scorching sun and pushed as a united force, gradually inching the stone weight forward with each strained step.

It was, in fact, more than just a simple weight. Cut with extraordinary precision, its yellow faces smooth as polished marble, it was a massive cube. And it wasn't just any cube, but the piece that would serve to finally complete a very large structure.

At ground level, some distance away, a lone figure squinted against the searing glare to take in its full view. There it stood, majestic. Isolated against the empty skyline, completely without competition, looking equal parts imposing and isolated. The construction ramp had extended with the building's scale, gradually increasing in height and length in order to allow the delivery of each block right to the very top, which towered into the heavens.

Stone ground against stone. With enormous effort, the final block was moved into place - into the only place it could go, with a clear gap designed for one final block to fill it, like the final piece to a jigsaw puzzle. It fit snugly into position, and the second it did, an elated cheer erupted from the hundreds who had helped it there, filtering down to the thousands who were positioned along the length of the incline. Thousands of cheers, all cheering for the same cause.

Back on the ground, their exclamations could be heard, albeit faintly. That was the signal, then. That was it. The figure held up a weathered parchment against the skyline, checking the distant structure against a sketched representation. The height, the width, it all seemed to match. It all seemed built according to specification.

A towering stone monolith. Four rectangle sides that climbed tall into the sky, with eight square panelled indentations carved into each surface. A solid square foundation, an angled peak, capped at the very top with a cylinder that emerged from its centre, as if on a mission to touch the stars.

A huge stone replica of the TARDIS.

"Space and time isn't safe yet. The TARDIS exploded for a reason."

Dressed in his top hat and tails, the Doctor circled the console as he addressed Rory and Amy, still outfitted in their own wedding attire. "Something drew the TARDIS to this particular date and blew it up. But why? And why now? The Silence, whatever it is, is still out there, and I have to…"

His train of thought afforded a fraction of a reprieve - long enough for him to finally register the sound of a ringing phone. "Excuse me a moment," he said as he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

The Doctor's tone instantly became one of recognition, of familiarity. "Oh! Hello. I'm sorry, this is a very bad line." A pause. His tone fell. "No, but that's not possible. She was sealed into the Seventh Obelisk, I was at the prayer meeting. Well, no, I get that it's important. An Egyptian goddess loose on the Orient Express..." A smile crept over his face as his eyes darted over to Amy and Rory. "...in space."

He paused. "Give us a mo."

Cupping his hand over the receiver, the Doctor turned to the newly-wedded couple. "Sorry, something's come up. This will have to be goodbye."

"Yeah, I think it's goodbye," Amy nodded. She turned to Rory. "Do you think it's goodbye?"

"Definitely goodbye," he said.

Immediately, Amy headed for the TARDIS doors. She poked her head out into the night - into the overgrown garden of her childhood house - and waved with heavy, deliberate emphasis. "Goodbye!"

And then, realising she actually meant it, Amy allowed herself a moment to take in the sight for one last time. All those years. All those memories. All that longing, back in her childhood, for the Raggedy Man to return in his magic blue box.

"Goodbye," she said.

And she closed the door.

With the phone still in hand, the Doctor smiled. He put the handset to his ear; his company was decided. "Don't worry about a thing, Your Majesty. We're on our way."

He hung up, then turned his attention to the TARDIS controls. Throwing a lever, the craft was set into motion, and all three held onto the console as they balanced against its wayward movements. Amy and Rory exchanged excited glances, not knowing what awaited them - but knowing that the uncertainty was part of the thrill.

And then, without warning, the Doctor pushed all his weight down on a nearby switch. Metal screeched against metal as the TARDIS shuddered intermittently, then with a loud bang, stopped cold in an abrupt halt. Hollow silence filled the room as the Doctor brushed his hands in a satisfied motion. "Or at least that's what she'll think."

Amy blinked. "What?"

The Doctor skipped up the stairs and ducked behind a wooden changing screen that was set up on the observation platform. He wasted no time in flinging his clothes over the barrier and grabbing the garments he had draped over it previously. "Amy, there are certain things in this life that should never be dignified with a response. Knock-knock jokes, I've heard them all. Novelty alarm clocks rarely come packaged with any genuine novel. But what really grates my cheese are ham-fisted grabs for Time Lord attention. Honestly, an A.D. train hosting a B.C. entity in X.Y. space? Give me a break."

"X.Y. space?"

He emerged from behind the partition, fully dressed in his usual bow-tie-and-tweed-jacket attire. "It's not a thing, I just made it up. Point is, there's a certain individual who's trying to land some face time with yours truly, and thinks that throwing a bunch of history-clashy stuff at the wall is the way to appeal to a time traveller's sense of curiosity. But if she thinks I'm falling for the eighth-oldest trick in the—"

The Doctor was cut off by a deep, booming toll, the noise somehow coming from above yet reverberating from within the depths of the TARDIS walls. Each tone was long and deep. Foreboding. Dangerous.

The Cloister Bell.

The Doctor's eyes widened in horror. He leapt to the controls and made furious movements on its array of switches and levers.

"What's happening?" said Rory. "What's that noise?"

The Doctor didn't look at him. "Bad and big, big and bad. Pick one. Pick two if you like, they're as bad as each other."

He skittered around the console, pressed button after button, trying desperately to narrow down the cause for alarm. He activated the monitor and was greeted with a flurry of numbers that raced up its screen, faster than the human eye could process. The sight instantly caused him to freeze on the spot; he stared at the display with a pale look, his mouth agape.

"Oh my..."

Rory peered over and tried to make sense of the screen. He tilted his head. "Do they mean something, Doctor?"

The Doctor didn't seem to register the question; he was still lost in his own musings. "It's like... nothing... it's nothing I've ever... it's massive..."

"Oy! Doctor!" Amy piped up with a short and sharp outburst, and he immediately looked around. She'd grabbed his attention. She took a breath, and spoke again in a calmer tone. "Words. Find the right ones. Then use them."

"Yes. Words." The Doctor was clearly flustered. He ran his fingers through his hair as he attempted to explain the situation. "The TARDIS operates across all of time and space; she can pick up anomalies everywhere and everywhen. And right now, she's picked up an impending anomaly that's… I need to get a lock." He turned his attention back to the monitor and twisted one of its dials, as though he was tuning in an old television. "It's getting closer. It's closing in lightning fast… half a light year away… one-twelfth…"

He swallowed. "Five hundred meters..."

Amy and Rory exchanged worried glances. Whatever was approaching sounded dangerous; they desperately looked around for something to hang on to, eventually settling on the nearby console railing. They clenched the framework tight and clenched their eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

They waited.

But nothing happened.

Cautiously, Rory peeked open one eye. The Doctor was still standing at the console, his words had trailed off into a stunned silence. He simply stood there, aghast. Rory could see that the monitor, rather than ticking through a furious stream of numbers, had now frozen. Its display was stuck, the numbers unchanging. Some sort of data overload, Rory guessed. He ventured forth.

"Doctor?" he asked.

A cold moment passed before the Doctor gained control over his senses. He sprung to life, darted around the console to work the controls at a frantic pace, setting the TARDIS into motion. "Okay," he said. "You wanted my attention? Fine. You've got it. I don't know what you're playing at, but you've got it. I'm coming."

Amy approached the Doctor. "What's going on?"

"You two, get changed. Sensible top, comfy pair of shoes." He caught his babble before it took hold, and paused long enough to look directly at Amy and Rory. "An anomaly," he said slowly. "The mother of all anomalies. Something that's threatening to break reality by existing when it shouldn't."

The Cloister Bell continued to sound, though the Doctor no longer seemed to register its booming tone.

"What is it?" asked Amy.

The Doctor looked at her, the colour drained from his face.

"It's... me."

CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON!