Music: The Long Song - Doctor Who
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He heard it.
After the pain, the burning, the song the universe sang to him... He heard another song.
'Rest now, my warrior. Your hardship is over...'
He felt his shattered, disintegrated, destroyed body weave itself back together.
First it started with atoms. It was not of his accord. He would rather have stayed dead, gone, forgotten, than live more than another lifetime.
Then his cells returned. He felt his existance be recreated. He tried to fight it, to slip back into the warm embrace of death, but the will of existance was stronger than his petty want for death.
His organs began to work again. He felt the pain of his long, long life return, and he remembered all that he wanted to run from.
His bones hardened and sank into place. His blood began to course, and his heart pulsed with sweet, warm life.
His mind refused. His will to die became a beast of strength, and his body began to disintegrate once more.
'Live, wake up. Wake up, and let the cloak of life cling to your bones.'
Then he felt the will of existance itself. It felt all that he had done, rather than what he wanted to run from.
It filled his mind with thoughts of his family, his only three lovers, and his good friends.
Death began to leave, and his heart began to beat again, this time with the vengeance that he embodied.
His skin recovered his body, and he held his hands in the strongest fist he had ever held, forcing the newly made blood to seep out of his regenerated skin.
His will changed direction.
Everything that drove him forward returned. He had saved lives, and he had one of the biggest impacts on the whole of existance.
His heroism would be remembered for mellenia, but what if they didn't need to remember? What if they simply needed to call upon his help?
His crimson eyes opened, and a wellspring of power flowed from them.
He saw where he was.
He floated in an expanse of space, colored red, blue, and many other colors.
The sun was obscured by a black shadow, and many celestial bodies swirled around it.
The energy of the nebulae around him fed his regeneration, the will of existance itself forcing itself upon him.
He would be it's instrument.
Then he began to feel relived. He looked at his skin, marveling as the marks that adorned his skin flowed off of his body.
The seals that held his full power broke under the weight of existance's will, a power not even gods hoped to match.
'Live, wake up. Wake up.'
He felt the burning of great energy fill him once more.
But it didn't cause pain. Instead, the burning was a fire that would never be extinguished.
His power was bolstered by the will of existance.
The chains that had held him so long, were gone now. Now he could be what he never thought he would be.
He screamed into the expanse of space, and very fabric of reality rippled in the wake of the sheer will of the sound.
'Your hardship is over. Live. Wake up. Wake up.'
He screamed until his newly healed lungs became raw, and his throat was sore.
Then, his very clothes began to regenerate. His hooded coat wrapped itself around him, as if it was welcoming him back.
It was his time to wake up.