Chapter 3:
Galifrey was in ruins. They had torn it apart, fighting for survival alone. The Lord President began working upon a renewed destiny; he would mould time into his will. So long as The Doctor lived, a survivor of the war, there was a way out. A final death to be fulfilled.
They had been finding a way out of the war. A link between them and the future, it had become clear that death was not a valid option. They would not die. He would resurrect them. And it seemed The Master was the link. 'History says The Master heard a rhythm. A torment that stayed with him for the rest of his life.' The Chancellor explained, uncertain if this would help.
'A drumbeat. A warrior's march...', The President speculated waiting to see the meaning of his words. He could not waste time, the entire Timelord history riding on their survival.
'A symptom of insanity, my lord' The Chancellor affirmed in dismay.
The President turned in his chair, 'I wonder'.
He stared forward, The Visionary's stark widened pupils glaring black. She was muttering maniacally, her black painted nails tapping against the table. The beats of madness and insanity.
The Lord President now lurching out of his chair, focusing on the each and every tap. 'A rhythm of four. The heartbeat of a Timelord!'