Rose was just about to untangle a clown called Bungle from a bunch of balloons when the Doctor arrived in a flash of bright blue light. Professor Layton span around, a look of intense anger spreading across his face.
"I believe I decide who enters my game and who does not." He said simply.
Professor Layton pointed his finger towards the Doctor and the blue beam shot out, throwing the Doctor to the other end of Monte d'Or's town square.
"DOCTOR!" shouted Rose, running towards the Doctor and kneeling by his side.
"I'm afraid that it is too late for him. He will die very soon."
"That's where you're wrong, my dear Layton." Said the Doctor, standing up and prowling towards Professor Layton like a cat exploring outside. "You see, unlike these other fine people, I am not human. I am a timelord. I can survive things humans can't."
"Then I shall kill your friend instead."
Just as Professor Layton was about to shoot the blue beam at Rose, the Doctor leapt in front defensively.
"You harm Miss Tyler here and you harm me. Do you understand?"
"But that is precisely the point."
"In that case, I believe, Rose, it is time to do a common activity of mine known as running. Run!"
The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and together they ran. And ran. And ran. Until an invisible barrier prevented them from running any further. Invisible, apart from a large crack in the middle. Rose and the Doctor jumped through the crack and landed back in the living room.
"Doctor, what about the other people trapped inside the game? We can't just abandon them."
"All in good time, Rose. First, we must travel back to UNIT headquarters, acquire my car Bessie and take it to 2012 in the TARDIS."
As the Doctor and Rose made their way to the TARDIS, the shadow of a man loomed around the room like an unpleasant sight and followed the Doctor and Rose quietly towards the blue box.
"So back to the 1970s then, yeah?"
"That's right. We need transport and I doubt the timelords would take too kindly to me borrowing a method of Earth transport in the middle of the 21st century. Good job they didn't find out about that car I borrowed back in the 70's. They don't believe in interfering."
"You see, back where I come from, my Doctor mentioned this…war. Something to do with the timelords."
"Goodness me, that sounds like something from my future. You must not mention future events in my life, Rose. I would rather take each moment by surprise than be spoiled by knowledge of my entire life story back to front."
"That is the proper way a true archaeologist would think. You are unique to the people I have had trapped inside my game, Doctor." Said a voice from behind.
The Doctor and Rose turned around to find Professor Layton in the form of a real person staring at them, almost without emotion. All around them, echoes of 'A true archaeologist would work it out for himself' surrounded them like a plague, booming off every wall, every control on the console, every roundel. Everywhere.
All around the Earth, in every single year of Earth's past, present and future, 'A true archaeologist would work it out for himself' sounded off every tree, every piece of land, even the sky. Everything that has ever existed, from phones to laptops, stone slabs to horse and carriages, contained the very same phrase. Until eventually, even the people started saying it. Soon, it became a whole language. And the name of the language?
"A true archaeologist would work it out for himself."
