Red.

That was all she could see. She tried to reach out with other senses, but they were blocked and she was alone.

How had it gone so bad so fast? The Doctor had been killed – destroyed, by that damned robot. Sliced straight through the heart with a vaguely familiar sword.

And she'd taken the opportunity the moment the Crown tumbled off his head to retrieve a hostage and strike a deal. Get something out of this whole mess, even if it was just one less annoyance to deal with.

It'd worked, for a second, the robot had backed off with uncharacteristically human concern on its face for the young girl it hardly knew. But suddenly there'd been an echoing voice, a red cloud, and before she could do anything beyond a failed attack, she'd been instantly stripped of the last of her freedom.

Misery always been chained down, one way or another. As a child, by inexperience. Then by Jenka – the Island had been prison for more than one. "The surface is too dangerous," her mother had insisted. "You're not ready."

Then the Crown had come and she'd lost control of her future and free will, eternally cursed to be a slave. Not that she didn't deserve it, she'd asked for it. But. Throughout it all, she had always had control over her mind, her body (though not her actions), and now she was reduced to a small scrap of awareness in what wasn't even her body anymore, really. Just a puppet.

She wondered if Jenka was aware of what was happening. Logically, she would be, right? The Core had been her own creation, made to counter Ballos in order to take off some strain, but her mother still actively kept track of the forces on the Island.

Was she angry? Upset, frustrated, that one of the most sacred laws of magic had been broken, that her only child was being used like this? That all she could do was watch in her old age and weakness? Or was she laughing that her half-wit of a daughter was getting the comeuppance she deserved. She could imagine her cackling now, rubbing salt in the wound with one of her seemingly endless allegories.

For a moment, all she felt was blind rage, fury at her mother, Ballos, the Doctor (herself, mostly, she'd caused this all to happen). She was so angry, couldn't form any thoughts, couldn't think straight. Was this what Uncle felt like?

A dull, distant throb of pain filtered through and snapped her out of it. Full possession, she knew, from studying old texts, would leave the victim completely helpless and devoid of sensation. The Doctor was purposefully letting her feel pain. His sadistic nature would be her advantage.

Hanging onto the sensation, she followed it and fought with what mental energy she could summon and the red mist cleared. She could see.

That was a small comfort, barely, the view from what had once been her body was like a tiny, static-washed screen. She could make out the Core, illuminated in the darkness. A white, blinding beam flashed past, slamming into the hard shell and leaving a scorch mark.

The robot was still alive, then? Somehow. It ran past her point of view, battlescars evident, but not giving up.

Impressive, she thought. Two on one – ah. Three, it seemed, as a shape launched itself at the robot. The reckless way in which it charged blindly was familiar, and a bit of mental prodding was enough to join the dots.

Mimiga, even one turned human, were fast. But magic would always be faster. Seems she wasn't the only prisoner here.

The robot simply stepped aside, letting its opponent skid to the floor. It aimed its gun at the red-eyed hybrid, hesitated, and fired instead at the Core.

Interesting. To take out the weaker, more mobile one first was the logical route, especially with such a clear shot. A combat robot should have known that and acted thus.

Well, whatever. It was a weird little machine, but as much as she hated to admit it, it was certainly capable. Another shot was fired, directly into the Core, but she paid it no attention. She could feel the red mist seeping back, heavy and oppressive. Only seconds before she was returned to isolation. Fighting, struggling with all she had, she pushed hard against the mist and forced herself – her body – unfamiliar body - to look directly into the fusion's wild eyes.

Layers and layers of rage, selfishness and the Doctor's presence, but underneath all that a substantial glimmer remained of Sue herself. Stubbornness prevailed here, despite the overwhelming magical forces at play, the girl was still holding on.

Can you hear me, she asked.

There was silence, and for a moment she felt dull panic well up. It was taking so much energy right now to even maintain a mental connection, she didn't want to be alon- for that effort to go to waste.

Finally, after agonising seconds, a reply came back. Go away. Leave me 'lone, you jerk!

It was a start. Wouldn't expect anything else from the child, after all. Hostile, angry and stubborn to the end. Reminded her of how she'd been in her younger years, before the apathy had set in.

No, she sent back, simply.

What d'you want... The voice had an air of childish impertinence to it, but there was a tinge of fear deep down, of course. She would be terrified.

We are in the same situation. A bit of company would be nice.

Another sear of pain, so distant and removed it was just a prickle. The robot would have no qualms about shooting her, she knew, not that the Doctor could access any of her magic asides from critters. She was actively fighting him on that one. Thankfully his mind was still human (maybe) and he was controlling, effectively, three beings at once.

Company? You- ugh! No! You're a jerk and you ruined everything AND you tried to kill me! I don't wanna talk to you! I freakin' HATE you.

Hate. There it was again. Another thing they shared. Be it Ballos' influence or her own, she had aged with an inner fury towards the unfairness of it all, and it had just kept growing and growing. It was the same with the girl, though she wasn't sure why she cared.

Hate is a powerful word. Besides, you're not exactly my first choice of company either.

So why're you talkin' to me then? was the retort, coming almost instantly.

That… was a good question. Why was she bothering to waste energy with a scared, hostile human child? The effort could be better spent towards regaining some senses, or even a little bit of control over her actions. Ultimately futile, of course, the red crystal imbued into the Doctor's survival meant the chains on her were unbreakable. But she'd always found there was always a bit of wriggle room with these things.

….scared. No. She wasn't scared.

She'd spent most of her life learning to be self-sufficient. She could only rely on herself, nobody else would stick around for long, be it through death or betrayal.

And now, trapped in her own mind, devoid of any senses but the crushing weight of inability, she was…..

Don't want to be alone.

Instantly she regretted it. The words echoed and part of her was disgusted about how weak they sounded. She was a witch. She had survived centuries of tormenting situations. Eventually, one way or another this would all be over. One day this would be a distant memory. Time heals all wounds, after all.

….I'm… scared as well. I'll turn back to normal, right? After Quote kicks butt?

The emotion in the response surprised her. Maybe the girl had a chance after all. Her family seemed to be good people, for humans. No intention of harming the Island, they just wanted to… know. For knowledge's sake. The mother, in the one or two times they'd talked, had been very insistent about that.

Something else made her mentally raise her eyebrows. Quote. The robot had a name. It was just an object, right? It was hard to think of it that way anymore.

If- when the robot destroys the Core, a magical reset will be triggered. You and any other rabid Mimiga will be returned to normal.

Oh. Okay. The voice was hesitant. You sure?

Why would I lie?

…yeah. I guess.

There was silence for a while, but it was a little more comfortable than before. Outside of the bubble, flashes of light and shouting and battle could be heard, but it was distant. The Core was weakening – it was tough, but the robot was made to break tough things.

Um. Don't go, please.

I'm right here. Nowhere else to go, really.

Yeah! After all-

She could feel a glimmer of wicked humour through the connection and mentally braced herself for the inevitable joke.

-Misery loves company!

You have no idea how many times I have heard that.

Aw.

Outside, the battle raged.