Warnings: No Spoilers, Eleventh-Era, Dark!fic
A/N: Written for who_contest's Prompt: Star, comprised of my usual dark, overly angsty, thinky horror. This one had to be wrestled to submission, but it was loads of fun - and you'll see what I mean when you reach the end (NO PEEKING!). Mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. As always, I apologize for any repetition, mispellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-dark/thinky and unbeta'd.
Disclaimer(s): I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!
A neutron star.
The single most perfect thing in a flawed and highly imperfect universe. A living entity that was anomalous and contradictory within its very existence. Capable of giving and sustaining life, even as it destroyed (in creeping degrees) the longer it burned.
But this was not just any neutron star to be found by the dozens in any galactic system. This ball of compacted energies was much more than the mere sum of its parts. The name bestowed upon it by its engineers eons before was deceptive, yet accurate, for this star (comprised entirely of dark matter), was consistently on the verge of total collapse. Held perpetually on the cusp of supernova, it teetered on the fine edge of destruction, all of its divine power harnessed and maintained at the heart of an ever-shifting, malleable white singularity; the counterbalancing forces bound together by an ancient series of codes and temporal locks.
It had been (long, long ago), the power source that had controlled and regulated the construct known as the Matrix. This unique and brilliant triumph of ingenuity had been heralded by the Time Lord race (those same engineers from eons before), as the Eye of Harmony.
But that race was no more, it had (in fact) been dead for centuries. All that was left of this formerly proud and deadly Memory was an ancient (stolen) Time Machine and the Eye house deep within its center. There were surely more relics out there, left dormant and dangerous in the wake of their passage – but as one gazed upon the Eye, they were hardly of importance.
He was once privileged with an intimate knowledge of this Artifact, this star within a star: he had known it with a pure, undeniable rawness that only comes from being within it. His soul, his very essence merged with this lethal perfection – his physical being stripped molecule by molecule as he collapsed within the dark star again and again – as it held him suspended in perpetuity.
Voided the promise of death as he lived and lived and –
All your lives…
He tossed the scattering of hair out of his eyes, tugging tweed lapels in satisfaction before running thoughtful fingers over the satin bow at his throat. So much to get used to with this form, so many inherent affectations already - mannerisms foreign to him, but at home within this body. Must come with the package then.
He'd definitely keep the bowtie.
He smiled a cold, blank smile that clashed eerily with this innocent new face, turning away from the Eye as it groaned awake, light spilling through the charming gloom of the Cloister-Room, deep tones ringing alarm as he stepped over the threshold to the TARDIS corridors.
Seemed She was too busy to bother with him right now – bigger worlds to fry.
The Master laughed joyously with the Doctor's mouth, arrogant twist to his lips as he went to confront his onetime friend and enemy.
It was time to face their Eternity…