A man in his mid-forties sat outside the café in Galahad, he stared into his book, slowly turning the page. His light silver eyes moved across the page, he murmured to himself the sentences as he read. It had been four nights and three days since he arrived back in Galahad. In those few days he managed to secure a simple cottage and a job at the local bookstore, even finding a nice café to eat whenever the feeling arises. He loved Galahad—it was as he remembered, abet more modern. When he was younger the buildings were worn and withered, Shoppes were family owned, but now as he glanced around it had taken to the new age quite well. There were still remnants of the olden days, but the rest were newer and more modern, there was a fancy jewelry store here, a fast food place there, a mix between the classics and new. Above all else, it was home to the man. And he wouldn't have it any other way. When his cup of tea arrived, the man stopped reading and took the cup into his hand, lightly sipping on the tea. As he sipped on it, he glanced up to the signpost above the café, sitting there was a raven with amber eyes. A smile appeared on the man's face, as he sat the cup gently down on the plate, closing his book completely. The man held out a hand and the raven took notice. It flew down from the signpost and landed on his hand, the man stroked the raven's head. The raven looked into his eyes, he saw his reflection, a man with peppered hair, fine lines, light silver eyes, and it had been very long since he saw his own reflection. The raven flew off his hand and he watched as it flew over a business. The man smiled, he hummed lightly, "Lon-don Crow, Lon-don Crow."

As he sipped on his tea, the man opened his book again and jotted down notes for a story he was writing. He was inspired to take up being a writer by someone known as John Watson. Of course, he was never known here or anywhere really, his name was more or less associated with a titular character in a world famous novel series by a well-known author. However, the man made it clear to have him somewhere in his story, as a thank you for the inspiration, though he knew John would never be able to see it. The man stopped writing momentary and sipped on his tea, he missed the taste of tea, and everything about it was as good as he remembered

"Enjoying the tea, Mr. Colton?" asked the waitress. Colton smiled, "I am, thank you."

"How's the writing going?" the waitress continued. Colton chuckled, "I think I have a better shot writing stories for kiddies."

"Ah, don't say that. Come on, read it to me," the waitress suggested. Colton rubbed his clean shaven chin. "It might bore you," he warned. The waitress sat down across from him and Colton turned pages back to his completed chapters. He cleared his throat as he read his own work.

IT WAS COLD—cold beyond any human notion. It was dark and the only things lit were streetlights. Fog slowly covered the landscape and it was thick enough that nothing could be seen through it. A common sight for the little town of Sherwood, with that, few ever treaded outside in the night.

Only one ever desired to tread in the night. An imposing figure to those that bear witness, but ever so silent that neither ever knows what goes through the blank eyes that always stared straight and never blink, but all know the familiar traits—wearing the infamous clothing worn by plague doctors of then. No one quite knows when the Plague Doctor came to town or even why, just that by night he lumbers through the night and by dawn disappears.

He could be seen in Sherwood Alley, populated by the homeless. Those that meet him are given supplies without so much as a glance and moves on to the others. Many have tried to speak with him, but failed to get any response. On cold nights, or when there has been violence toward them, he stayed with the homeless until just before dawn where he would then disappear into the unknown.

Colton continued to read until he got to the part he was currently writing. The waitress seemed interested and she smiled. "That was wonderful, how did you think differently?" she asked him. Colton shrugged. "Most people don't care for mystery anymore," he sighed. The waitress chuckled. "Come now, you can prove them wrong, surely," she assured him. Colton chuckled himself. "If only it were simple," he rubbed his eyes. The waitress nodded. She was called away and had to leave the table, she gave a smile before she stood up and walked into the café. Colton gave a grin to a raven that had just perched on an empty chair. It gave a look back in return and he chuckled. He called for it and it flew onto the empty chair the waitress was occupying. "What a horrible transition," Colton admitted. The raven nodded. Colton sighed. "If it was only easier, but how else was I supposed to do it?" he rubbed his eyes. He stopped, "But then again, it was a good thing he kept them around as long as he did. I knew those festering things had their uses."

Colton sat back in the iron chair. "I suppose it was wrong of me. But I had to go somewhere. I couldn't exactly walk around like a costumed maniac forever and they did do a job of mucking up the remnants. A pity about him, Grissom, if only I could thank him in person."

He gave a chuckle. "Of course, he knew the risks," he reminded himself. He knew Grissom quite well in fact. Grissom was always in that lab of his, messing about with those insects. He never raised a fuss about him and the others unless they were wandering too close to his office. Grissom never even cared for the fact that those were humans who walked around in those chassis. He preferred insects over humans, really. Colton remembered Grissom as a cold-hearted man who never cared at all. Grissom reasoned several times over that he wasn't responsible, he shouldn't suffer. Oh, but Colton knew he was speaking through his ugly teeth—as did Walker whenever he leered at Colton and the others whenever he passed them in the hall. They were empathic dolts who'd do anything for good fortune, no matter what had to happen for them to get it. And they were both dead and Colton was happy with the results. What's more, he got a neat new body out of Grissom; Walker's wasn't inherently something he considered using, Walker had been known for sneaking around to parts of London where nightwalkers tended to be and he was never known for being clean to begin with. Colton didn't worry about someone recognizing Grissom's body, in fact it took on the appearance of his old body, courtesy of the Amber that contained his blood and DNA that rewrote Grissom's DNA entirely. It was a slow transition, not very painful at all, but it took a while before the body converted into Colton's original image. A tall, thin man, somewhat pale complexation, with muscles, fine lines on the face and of course, the eyes, though it was a minor thing. The eyes still looked pure silver, a minor side effect, but since Colton could easily blink and move them again, no one will have the chance to look at them. In all, Colton had returned to life.

The raven, Hermes, took off and disappeared over a business as Colton took a quick sip of his tea. Colton silently planned what he will be doing next with his newfound freedom. He knew there was no chance the Doctor or others alike to find him here. He and this Galahad were from another universe, far from the other two, far that the Doctor wouldn't even be able to pick up on. In this universe, Sherlock and John weren't real people, just namesake characters from a famous book series. The Doctor wasn't real either and there were no conventional monsters and the like for him to even bother with this universe to begin with. It crossed Colton's mind that he had some unfinished business to attend to in the coming future, something that was very dear to his heart. He wanted peace, peace for the others like him, those still bound to steel and wires, no freer than a Cyberman. Colton sat the teacup down on the table and rubbed his eyes, he knew where the others were, it was one of the things that was imprinted early on, to always know where the other was, even if they weren't in the same universe or other. True that he lied to the Doctor, Colton had already known from the start that the Doctor himself had proneness to lie whenever the need arises and so he took advantage of it, but Colton had to lie, the Doctor would've inferred with his true purpose.

Colton would find them all again, as he had promised many years ago before their escape that faithful day. He would help them reclaim their humanity and punish those that had taken their humanity in the first place. Sofia Lamb was in hiding in the depths of the Pacific, hidden with the scientists she still kept with her to the end, she wasn't a fool, and Colton planned to track her down once he had regained his brethren. Colton glanced to skies above and rubbed his chin. There was still much to do.

The End