This is a co-written story by Jarl of the North and the King of Skaro. Neither of us own Doctor Who or Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Please support the official release!
NARRATOR
The most profound aspect of the sheer void of space was not its endless expanse. While it did indeed instill a sense of awe and insignificance, it was something that eventually wore off with time and experience as one crossed the universe.
Rather, its most profound aspect was the silence. The sheer, torturous silence. Not a sound passed through the darkness, which was dotted with an infinite amount of stars, like holes in a black fabric, as one passed on through its expanse.
With time, it was enough to drive any sane person to madness.
And any mad person back to sanity.
However, the only occupant of the object that crossed the void had no worry of either. The first reason being that he had no use for such superficial ideals and names.
The other reason being that, while he disliked it, he'd grown accustomed to the quiet.
On the outside, the object wasn't that large - about eight feet in height and another three and a half feet in width, it seemed hardly large enough to contain two, possibly three people within. Seemed to have been carved from oak and painted a navy blue, the vessel, a box with the words POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX emblazoned on the side near the top, couldn't have seemed more ordinary
Or more out of place.
On the inside, however, it was a very different story.
The entryway alone could have held its own outer shell well over ten times over. A circular room with a wooden door embedded in one of the walls, several hallways branched out from the other walls in a seemingly endless complex of hallways and rooms, each one unique and completely different in style from the last. The entryway itself was lit up like Christmas day by hundreds of lights, each giving off a glow that was white, light blue, or somewhere in between; the main source of the glow, however, was the massive aqua cylinder that dominated the center of the room, a series of consoles wrapping around its base like a cocoon, and further illuminated at the top by tens of bright white lights affixed to a step-like fixture, the consoles and the light fixture each holding the structure to its place in the center of the room, bound to the floor and ceiling.
However, the sight was dampened by the fact that none of the consoles were active.
Rather, they hadn't been so much as touched in what seemed to be months, a fine layer of dust sitting on each individual module and button.
However, this was not the room that contained the structure's sole occupant.
Somewhere in the winding halls, an absolutely gargantuan library loomed within. Stacked to the rafters with tablets, books and scrolls of every style, genre, civilization, race, and age, the collection was easily among the most impressive in the entire universe, if not the most impressive.
In the center of the room - the only area that wasn't absolutely stuffed with books, with hardly enough room to move - sat an old leather armchair, worn and well used, but obviously not yet ready to leave this universe to move on. Sitting in the chair, however, was the entire complex's only resident, who appeared no older than his late teens. Bright crimson hair hung from his scalp, messy and unkempt, as though he couldn't be bothered to take care of it aside from combing out the knots and giving it the occasional wash. His skin was slightly pale, and dotted with freckles wherever it was visible from underneath his clothing, which consisted of a dark green shirt with a light brown trench coat hanging from his shoulders. Fingerless brown gloves wrapped around his hands like they were a part of him, and his pants were a shade of darkened brown that, while normally would have clashed horribly with his black shoes, seemed to go rather well with them on him, as though designed specifically for him and him alone. Beneath his bangs, bright green eyes glowed with fond memories as he looked over each page of the book in his lap, each one containing different people; a balding man in his late thirties with a black leather coat, sitting at a table with a young woman with long blond hair.
Rose Tyler, he smiled softly before flipping the page. Now, there was a man with short, spiky hair in a tweed jacket and a bowtie, two people by his side; a woman, with dark red hair that cascaded across her shoulders, her skin pale as she smiled up at the man through the lens of the camera; the other was a man, with short, dark brown hair and pale skin, his smile sincere, but somewhat clueless compared to the woman and the other man, Amy Pond, and Rory Williams...
He gave a sigh, once again flipping the page, how I miss them all... every single one of them.
He continued like this for some time, recalling his past adventures with each separate companion he had taken with him through time and space, wishing how he could have gone back to those days, if only to make his peace. Even those he'd disliked, he missed; it would have been good to at least make some semblance of peace with them before being forced to move on again.
Eventually, he stood, closing the book, and striding over to one of the shelves. Carefully, as though it were a treasured family heirloom, he placed the book in the empty space it had occupied a few hours ago among the other books in the shelves, and stood silently for a moment, his hand still on the book as he thought.
Maybe I really should look into retirement, he mused, his lip twisted in a melancholy smirk.
It was then that the universe decided to remind him of the reason he'd chosen to live, rather than simply fade away.
Why he'd chosen to continue on.
Why he had enjoyed - and would continue to enjoy - being alive.
Within the consciousness of the TARDIS, which hadn't stirred for weeks uncounted, something stirred. And at once, all throughout the machine, a sound began to echo - a bell, its ominous ring racing through the corridors, spreading all across the complex within an instant.
Immediately, the young adult snapped to attention, his green eyes glowing with intrigue, "what's perked your interest, sexy?" he murmured, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Then, he raced for the door, knocking over a pile of books as he moved. He skidded to a halt, staring at the books with an expression akin to loathing, before shaking his head, "oh, I'll clean you up later!"
Bursting out of the door, he raced down the hall as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. As soon as he arrived in the console room, he stared at the glowing object - a time rotor - he stepped up to the modules, "if this is just an act to get me to clean off the dust on your consoles, I'll have you know, it's going to make me very cross," he grunted, taking out a handkerchief and wiping off several monitors and keyboards, staring at several screens, blinking once or twice before hitting a button. Immediately, the screens came to life, and readings filled the entire glass surface. As he read each individual one, he felt an eyebrow force itself up his forehead, "that's weird," he murmured, flicking a switch to take a look at other readings. This time, both eyebrows began to climb up his forehead, "that's even weirder."
He stood up straight, licking at his lips and rubbing his chin, "well... this certainly deserves a look..." he trailed off, his hand moving to a lever, but stopping just short of it, hesitant. If he followed this, he was firing off his only chance at retirement for a while...
"Oh, the hell with it!" he crowed, his hand closing on the lever and pulling it down with every ounce of force he could muster. Immediately, the entire complex all around him roared to life, the familiar, jovial sounds of the TARDIS filling his ears and making his soul soar with the familiar burst that he always felt when traveling. He felt himself smirk, then felt the smirk turn into a grin. It wasn't long before he was laughing, the sound filling the TARDIS and falling into rhythm with the rest of the machine's sounds, "why did I even think about retirement before!?" he managed between his laughter and his gasps for air, "work is so much more fun! I LOVE THIS JOB!"
On the outside, the vessel began to flicker, in and out of reality. Then it was gone, leaving the emptiness of space for the Doctor's next adventure.
DOCTOR WHO AND THE OLYMPIANS: THE TITAN'S MASTER