London
Finding guardians of the light was easier than most hopeless souls might imagine. In a universe, and their adjacent kin, where evil rampantly misbehaved, it lifted the Doctor's hearts. To see the darkness challenged.
It also provided useful ammunition, she thought, while making a great of noise.
Karaoke truly could be an acquired taste.
They started coming out of alleys during Pink Floyd's Another Brick in the Wall. Black cloaked figures moved through London, all time frozen to prevent unnecessary complications. The Doctor had gotten into the bit where the a Scotsman argued over eating meat before pudding, taking a sudden spin about the stage. She stopped, facing a larger, unfriendlier, crowd surrounding the stage.
"Have I been on the mike too long," the Doctor said with a grin. "Sorry about that. How's about one more song, eh? Any requests?"
"No requests," a woman in black with twisted tattoos stepped onto the stage. "Only promises. Doctor, we here promise to use this frozen moment to kill your closest friends and loved ones before burning this country to ashes should you not surrender."
The Time Lord eyed the bar quickly, noting all the patrons in their place, unharmed.
"Time freeze," the Doctor said indifferently. "Thought this crowd was too civil for karaoke. I get too pitchy at the chorus parts, real annoying."
"You're not listening, Doctor!"
The woman started drawing out a dagger from her sleeve. It clattered to the floor while the owner clutched both ears along the equally agonized cultists as sonic waves bombarded them.
"And you're not paying attention," the Doctor switched her sonic off, away from the mike, while eyeing how the headphone for every patron were snuggly in place. She pried the customized earplugs out of her own before facing the woman.
"Freezing time gives off a bittersweet smell, like roasted cinnamon. I got a whiff of it hours ago, relatively. I appreciate your boss bothering to take the bait."
A not-so subtle reach for the knife stopped. Eyeing the Time Lord, the cultist smirked venomously. Her expression mirrored by the other cloaked figures.
"You expect us to believe this was intentional? Revealing your key location in time and space only allowed out Master to decree your death."
"But He Hasn't!"
The advance of darkness froze. They weren't smiling anymore. Good, she thought, let them be annoyed. In fact, the Doctor intended to educate.
"I had plenty of warning before this manipulation. Killing me or the vain attempt has been tried many different times. Your Master, He Who is Awake, The Many-Named Shadow, has only one reason for these dramatics."
The Doctor leaned in until her face was inches from the woman's. She could see the scarring and felt echoes of even deeper agonies that made listening to shadows so tempting. The problem with two hearts is a greater sense of empathy for those who dared leave both open to others. Her anger was directed at the thing festering in this poor woman. She sensed something twitch.
"You want to know what I found out and I'm bored seeing your petty machinations, so let's talk."
It was curious, how seeking a chat could be equivalent to declaring war.
The Time Lord was surprised to see dread on the cultist's face.
"Death after karaoke might satisfy most Lords of Darkness. But unless he sees my doom, he'll always doubt if victory ever deserved to be his. So why not prove it, give me a front row seat or kill me now and we'll see how well you're received."
The Doctor never took her eyes off the woman, knowing no other member would dare make their boss seem a cheater before the game started.
"Doctor," the woman finally regained her sadistically-approved professionalism. "Allow me the curtesy of welcoming you to Hell 2.0."
She latched onto the Time Lord's wrist. Light flashed as time resumed in a now nearly vacant bar.
The War for the Universe's soul had begun.