The favoured courtier of the mad god of time walks the labyrinth, dark-haired and stately. These are the corridors of lost time.
She will record it all.
For his thoughts are the new paths that time twists too. He creates the oracles that scream false dreams; the weapons that bring the dead back to life.
This is the universe that does not sleep, and it will take her eternity to record everything that never was. She begins.
And she doesn't remember that the Doctor had not been alright, and all their freedoms had been locked with the Key to Time.