As promised, next phase!
Altaïr was waiting for them when the Doctor and River climbed the stairs. Directly in front of them was a door that had two guards on either side of it, and as River murmured respectfully to them and they to her in turn, the Doctor took a moment to peer through the door. It wasn't a door, as such: more an archway that led onto a beautiful garden, where women sat around a pool with their tinkling laughter mixing well with the song of the birds that were hidden in the trees. The Doctor felt a strange pull to the place, and was taking a step forward when River moved on beside him. Distracted, the Doctor looked away, and the hold the garden had on him was broken. They took another set of stairs, although these were small and just led to a higher point, and walked straight on. Altaïr, Malik and Sef were standing in front of an impressive oak desk that was in front of huge glass windows that threw in all the light one could ever want into the room. In the dark crevices on either side of the plinth where the desk sat, there were bookcases being attended to by a few elderly looking men in white robes: when the Doctor and River approached, Altair turned and nodded at them: they nodded respectfully back, replaced books into the shelves and melted away. Altaïr then turned and looked at Malik, and there was something about his look: as if looking for some support in what he was about to do. Malik nodded his approval of whatever it was, and reassured, Altaïr turned back to the Doctor.
'It is time to show you why you are here.'
And then he let go of the Apple. It didn't fall, but hung in the air as though something invisible was holding it. The Doctor stared at it as it bobbed gently in the air, much like Ezio's Apple had done when it was lifted from the grave. He was captivated by it – something about it was calling to him in a voice he knew but couldn't quite recognize It was a whisper at first, getting stronger and stronger until it was a shout he recognized and it that moment when he knew it, the voice exploded in his mind and the Apple let out a pulse of blinding night.
- DOCTOR!
He stumbled away from it as River fell away from it too, trying to shield her eyes. Malik seized Sef's arm and pulled the boy to him, spinning his face away from the light and holding his head against his chest before screwing up his eyes and turning his head away. Altaïr seemed to be hardly bothered by it – he stared at the Apple with a wary expression. He truly had no idea of what would happen next.
And then something did happen.
Symbols, structures, numbers and letters began to move from the Apple, whizzing through the air around it like bees around a hive, moving like imprints from a bright light. The Doctor saw thousands that he recognized, but they didn't seem to have a meaning: they were echoes of eons. They swirled and swirled, growing in numbers until they were a dense cloud of shapes and figures.
And then they began to form a shape.
Hands, at first. Slender, careful and caring hands that cradled the Apple nervously. As the hands moved, the Apple moved too, as if it was indeed being held by the apparition of fingers. And then arms, dressed in something thick. Although there wasn't any colour to be had in the symbols' shapes, those arms were wearing a hoodie the Doctor recognized It made his hearts jump up into his throat. Shoulders, a chest and then hair to finally frame a face that made his mouth go dry, with an expression of concern and bewilderment that he would give anything to see again. The figure was complete, but the symbols didn't stop moving – they swayed and whizzed within the figure and with its movement, constantly changing and constantly calculating.
Its lips moved.
'Doctor? Can you hear me? Doctor?'
Altaïr's eyes fixed on the Doctor as he stepped up towards the Apple, drawn to it by forces he couldn't understand. His lips parted in wonder, his eyes sparkled, and he lifted his hand to hover over the Apple held by the symbol hands. It glowed again, and the figure shifted, becoming smaller and roughly the size of a young woman, who stood in front of the Doctor as though she were actually there. Her eyes were still fixed on the Apple she held, as though the answer to the question she kept asking with a voice that was somehow strained, filtered, as though it was run through a machine would somehow leap from it.
'Doctor?'
The Doctor laughed quietly, as though this whole thing amused him. But it was a sad kind of laugh: one without any heart in it.
'Rose.'
WELL. To the USA readers, stay safe during the hurricane! D: *heart with hands* and for those of you who get the game tomorrow, HAVE FUN AND I HATE YOU.