Chapter One: Gallifrey Rises.
The Doctor lay motionless and wounded. The glass from the ceiling lay shattered around him. He lifted his head heavily off the marble floor of the Naismith Mansion and stared up at the white light before him. A blurred vision of Burgundy and Crimson robes stood before him, their words fading in and out of his consciousness. The booming voice of Rassilon rang out through the room.
"You are a disease, My Lord Master. Albeit a disease of our own creation. You infect and spread your power driven pox in the minds of your victims. Even this body you now inhabit is simply a shell. You must be purged."
The Lord President extended his gauntleted arm and thrust his index finger forward. The Master screamed as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his temple. The Doctor swung his head to face his mortal enemy and in his blazing eyes, he saw the boy he had befriended all those years ago. Reaching a cut and bruised hand, The Doctor took up the Webley Revolver that Wilfrid had gifted him, rose to his feet, and stood battered and broken against his foe.
As he tried to stand his legs caved in beneath him and he stumbled backwards. His arms dropped to his sides and he felt the weight of the blood and bones that ran the course of his body. The screams of The Master were silenced by the drawing of the hammer on the revolver. The weak and broken Doctor, aimed the barrel directly at Rassilon's temple. The Lord President's face became an expression of thunder and rage as few words barely escaped his enemies mouth.
"Leave...him...alone"
"You have chosen your enemy poorly Doctor!" Rassilon roared. "The Master is but one. We are many. We are legion! I am the God of Timelords!"
Rassilon raised the gauntlet to his eye level and splayed his fingers. A blue pulsating wave of energy shot out and crippled The Doctor, forcing him to the floor and screaming in agony. Stepping forward a pace at a time, Rassilon fired blasts of green energy into The Doctor's crippled body.
"You think you can defy me! Look at you! A thousand years old...you are merely a child. I've had pets that have lived longer. You are not worthy of the title Time Lord."
Rassilon reached The Doctor, the blasts becoming one constant stream and The Doctor's screams becoming a constant cry of pain. Rassilon showed no mercy, the energy becoming more intense with every second. As The Doctor drew closer to his death, Rassilons voice become smooth like silk. He whispered to The Doctor.
"You are released from this mortal coil, Doctor!"
Screaming in pain, The Doctor's vision faded into black. He heard nothing, saw nothing and slowly began to feel nothing. Until, shrill shriek burned through his ears. He opened his hazy eyes looked up and saw Rassilon on his knees, his chest emitting a bright light, energy bounced into his being. The Doctor looked up, turned his head quickly around. He saw what had not seen in a life age. The greatest living sight to a Time Lord alone in the universe, he saw... Himself.
Four of them. Faces he all recognised. Clothes he remembered Voices he knew. The black leather and The Northern Accent. The deep gravely voice and the Mohican. The green velvet jacket and the short brown hair. And of course, the Bow tie.
The Doctors stood, sonic's in their hands, firing at Rassilon. The Ninth stood proud, his war torn eyes stared into Rassilons soul. The Eighth, noble and fair, his hair blowing in the breeze. Eleventh, his eyes full of despair but yet dancing with hope. And his darkest self, a persona he had grown to accept, even admire, burning with Rage. He knew of Rassilon's cruelty, his greed and his lust for power. He was there, at The Academy, when they realised he had turned. There is a special place in hell for what he did that day, and The Doctor was the one to send him there.
The blast reached it's conclusion and Rassilon toppled backwards, unconscious. The other Time Lords looked baffled at The Doctors defiance. The War Doctor barked quick orders.
"Grab him!" He pointed a sharp and bony finger at The Master and looked towards The Eighth and The Ninth. Himself and The Eleventh rushed towards The Tenth. The Eleventh outstretched a hand to his younger self.
"On your feet old Friend" The War Doctor spoke softly. "We have work to do"
"This is impossible..." The Master barked as he was dragged to his feet by The Ninth and The Eighth.
"You shouldn't be here" The Tenth spluttered. He looked at The War Doctor "You shouldn't remember..."
The War Doctor dismissed the remarks with a shake of the head and a wave of the hand. "I'll explain later. Quickly, back to The TARDIS, can you walk?"
"I'm fine" The Tenth responded.
"Well then..." The War Doctor said with a smile "Allons-Y."
The Eleventh winked at The Tenth and a smile came across his face. The three of them turned and ran for the door. The Eighth gave a swift blow to the back of The Master's head, knocking him unconscious.
"Nice" The Ninth admired as the quickly followed their older selves.
"Hang on!" The Tenth cried as he reappeared in the room. He quickly soniced the glass doors to the left and unlocked Wilfrid from the control room and disappeared behind the doors. Wilfrid, bewildered wander out into the room.
"What the bloody 'ell was that about?"