It was a rare quite moment. Just him and the constant whirring and buzzing of the time ship. A moment of solitude, of reflection. He had no destination, not yet. It felt nice to idle for a moment. There were never enough such moments, never enough time.
As always, he knew it would not last, that something would interrupt his solitude. It was his curse he supposed. But for now, peace.
Absently he walked around the console flicking switches and pushing buttons. Time to think. That is what this was. He like to think. Sometimes anyway.
He had a constant goal, never without motive and reason. He was certain of that much. It is not like he had always wanted to be the person he had become; his dreams, his aspirations, they morphed as he aged, as he experienced the universe. Everything from the moment he looked within the fragment of the vortex to now where he lazed within it, made him the being he was now. He knew his title and all that it meant to everyone he met, but who was he really? This constant nagging question gnawed away, persistent in these hours of quiet. He knew he could never satisfy with an answer, no matter how he tried. He knew, deep down, that it was never going to be about making himself believe his own convictions. It was, and always will be, about convincing all others.
He was the Master. He will always be the Master. And you will obey.