Prologue:
How long Doctor? How long have you lived?
The Brain of Morbius
I have dreamt only one dream for the last century. Every night it repeats itself in exactly the same way. The same images and sounds again and again. I do not understand why I have it or where it comes from. I can only imagine it is a memory buried deep, trying to assert itself. It certainly feels like a memory. The burnt orange sky, the ice capped mountains and the purple tinged rock face. It is late afternoon, the light begins to dwindle. I am young. A child. Walking outside in the knee high grass feels like heather. I am light as a feather, not a care in the world, my heart is not heavy, my soul is unburdened- there is just me and the glorious evening. I walk, time means nothing to me, a Time Lord to whom time means nothing if there is light there is time. I run my hand through the grass and walk so slowly. I am light headed, as though I am only half there. Somewhere in the distance I here music, a piper of some description. Its song is beautiful. I have not hear it for so long. So very, very long. A voice calls me by name. From the house across the plain. My home. There is a woman stood there, tall and graceful but her face is unclear by the distance. Every inch the Time Lady. My mother
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The Doctor woke. The TARDIS hummed around him. He glanced around the room. He rose out of bed and slipped on a shirt. The universe flooded back into his head