(AN: New Doctor Who came on, it was surprisingly better than I had anticipated [Oswin, aka. Mary Sue Dalek, wasn't as mary-sue-ish as i feared she would be: hell, she didn't even accept the Doctor's offer to travel with her with doe-eyed wonder like most of the other companions save for Donna. But she did say she'd be back for the next episode, oh well: I might start to like this strange person after all.)

(Any way, that all pales into utter insignificance since we're back in this semi-sequel to Revenge of the Master, set as a cross-over with the Prince of Persia and with my own original story the Death's Head. Doctor Who and Prince of Persia don't belong to me, Death's Head does, though. I've had a hell of a time trying to get that story flying, one of the seven pilot stories is floundering on Fiction Press, in case you're interested in checking it out [Death's Head: Angel of Darkness], and since this particular story was inspired by "The Parting of the Ways", I thought it best to make this pilot a cross-over with our favorite Timelord. Now hold onto your fez because anything can happen in the Doctor's world!)

Epoch Rising

The Doctor and River Song stood in surprise at the entrance to the TARDIS. The man who stood before them was clad in black, with raven black hair hanging loosely upon his shoulders. His skin was darkened like those of the desert people, and he wore a short beard. For a moment, the Doctor thought he saw a faint glimmer of golden light in the man's eyes.

"Salaam, Doctor," the man greeted with a smile and a courteous inclination of the head.

"How did you get in here?" the Doctor asked, reaching for his sonic screwdriver.

"I've been trying to find you for almost a century now," the man replied. "You're a hard man to find, especially when your tracks seem to disappear after you have made them."

"Disappear, what do you mean 'disappear?'" the Doctor asked.

"You don't know?" the man asked. "You're dead to the universe."

"I know that much," the Doctor replied. Then his tiny eyes widened with realization. "Wait, I know I'm dead to the universe, I saw it happen, I made sure it happened, but how do you know?"

"You remember, Doctor."

"I do?"

"Someone has been erasing your tracks, Doctor," the man said. "Something happened in the future, now you've disappeared from almost every historical record." He looked over the Doctor's shoulder. "Your woman might know something."

The Doctor turned about, but saw that River Song was gone. He sputtered for a moment, then turned back to the newcomer, whom he scanned with his sonic screwdriver. He read the results, then shook the device, re-scanned the man in black, then re-examined the results.

"Human," he said in disbelief. "And yet...not quite." He looked at the newcomer in shock.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid, disciple of the Prophet and bearer of the burden of God."

"Impossible," the Doctor exclaimed. "The real Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid died almost two thousand years ago, as of 2012. You, on the other hand, seem quite alive and well to me. I ask you again, who are you?"

"I thought you would have the answer for me, Doctor."

The Doctor paused. "You say you're from the past, but there's something odd about you. Your cells are constantly regenerating, repairing themselves, some of them are over a thousand years old, and yet you don't look a day past thirty. And that glow, that golden light I've been seeing in your eyes, it reminds me of..." He paused again, then walked over to Faruuk and glared him down.

"Rose." he said.

"I know not of what you speak," Faruuk replied.

"Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf," the Doctor began. "God of infinite time and space."

"You mean Zurvan," Faruuk stated. He then reached into his bosom and pulled out an old scroll, which the Doctor took from his hands and rolled out before him. Before his eyes, he saw the words translated into something he could understand.

"You," the Doctor said, handing the scroll back to Faruuk. "You're the author of the Seven Scriptures."

"Seven what?"

"This manuscript, I recognize it," the Doctor said. "I've seen these markings somewhere else before, but I can't make out when or where." He walked about, thinking and rambling to himself for a moment, then turned back to Faruuk. "Still, it doesn't answer my question: how did you, Faruuk ibn al'Mayhiid, an esoteric warrior-scribe, manage to jump through time and enter my shi-ahh!"

The Doctor was suddenly interrupted by a violent spasm of pain piercing through his body. He lurched forward, gripping at his right heart. Faruuk came to his side, hand on his shoulder and helped him over to one of the rails of the TARDIS.

"No, no, I'm fine!" the Doctor brushed off.

"You certainly didn't look fine," Faruuk replied. "What is it?"

"This? Oh, it's nothing, just..." the Doctor halted, his beady eyes growing as he touched his right heart, then quickly his left heart as well.

"What is it?" Faruuk repeated.

"This can't be good," the Doctor said grimly. He held up his hand, which, to his shock and great concern, was glowing with soft golden light.

"What is that, Doctor?" Faruuk asked. "What does it mean?"

"I'm...regenerating!" the Doctor replied with great alarm.

(AN: Oh noes, whatever shall happen? Lol, there's always peril of epic proportions in Doctor Who, so, while thinking about how this story could be just a bit more dramatic, I put the Doctor in this!)

(Please review, they're very welcomed.)