Slotting herself back into life had felt strange at first, the strange buzz of adrenaline still muting the world around her.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, she'd been on Gallifrey

Saving the Time Lords, saving the Earth from Zygons.

And now... now she was standing in the pouring rain, dropping her daughter off at school. The surreal shift in her reality was strange. She'd spent the day practically wandering around like a zombie.

That evening she'd sat down with Jack and just offloaded the whole thing onto him. He listened, patiently as he always did. It helped just to say it all out loud, as if speaking the words might help her work through it.

Afterwards, he drew her into a hug on the sofa, where they stayed for a long while, mindlessly watching whatever had come up on the TV.

It wasn't until a few days later that she'd reached out to Alina. She had wanted the events to settle first, to give her a moment to process it, let it sink into her body.

"I've sort of surprised myself, weirdly. I'm okay…" Hally admitted, half expecting her words to sound more fragile than they did.

Alina gave her a small smile, an invitation to continue.

"I felt guilty, for leaving him there," she confessed. "But I think… it had already happened. So long ago for both of us, I wasn't really making that choice. Not really. It had already been made."

Alina nodded, her gaze steady but warm.

"Everything else was weirdly cathartic," Hally said, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. "That probably makes me sound unhinged. It was a total clusterfuck."

Alina's face broke into a laugh. "You described it slightly more eloquently in your report."

Hally grinned. "Well, yeah, I didn't think Kate would appreciate the language."

Alina leaned forward slightly. "Can you elaborate? You said it was cathartic?"

"Yeah… kinda. Almost like closure… if closure was circular," Hally said, mulling over her thoughts. "Knowing Gallifrey isn't totally destroyed, knowing my dad didn't kill literally everyone. Saving myself. The three of them being there—it was sort of... nice?" She pulled a face at her choice of words. "Okay, nice makes it sound like a picnic. It was stressful as hell, and having the three of them bouncing off one another was a nightmare. But it also really made me notice how much we've changed. All of us. We've all changed. For the better, I think."

Kate hadn't bothered reapplying the patch to Hally's neck after everything. They were triaging her fully without it now. The biodampener still lived at her house, just in case, but for the first time, Hally felt sort of free.

UNIT had even finally started paying her.

It was 11:24 in the morning. Normally, The Doctor would have arrived by now. Hally drummed her fingers impatiently against the bannister before picking up her phone. The first call rang out with no answer, so she tried again. After a few long rings, he finally picked up.

The chaos on the other end was unmistakable—blasters, shouting, and the tell-tale hum of the TARDIS in motion.

"Hello?! Is it urgent?" The Doctor shouted over the noise.

Although he couldn't see it, his daughter's eyebrow had cocked dangerously. "Umm... kinda. It's Christmas."

There was a loud huff, followed by the sound of something being dropped with a crash. Hally winced as more expletives crackled through the line.

"Right, yes! Christmas. Urgh!" She could hear the familiar sounds of blaster fire, The Doctor yelping. "I'll. Be. Right. There."

The line went dead.

Hally sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket. Downstairs, the kitchen was firmly under control, all thanks to Ianto. The smell of roasting potatoes and cinnamon drew her down the stairs. Jack lounged in the living room, keeping an eye on Lily, who was stubbornly refusing to open presents until her grandfather arrived. She'd been up since 6:15, and Hally could see her patience was waning.

Her daughter jumped to her feet as the TARDIS engines groaned, the ship slowly materialising in the middle of her lounge. Well, at least he hadn't crashed into the tree this time. The door flew open and in a whirlwind of chaos The Doctor appeared, hair wild, carrying what appeared to be the severed head of a Cyberman.

Clara followed him, flustered. "Doctor, did you do the holographic clothes?"

"Yes!" The Doctor snapped, waving his hand in her direction.

Hally blinked, looking between them and then at the object in The Doctor's hands. "Why are you carrying a Cyber-head?"

"Handles!" he announced, as though introducing an old friend. "This is Handles! Say hello to Lily, Handles."

The Cyberman head whirred to life. "Hello, Lily," it intoned in its robotic voice.

Lily's face lit up with glee as she took the head from The Doctor, bringing the head to her chest for a cuddle.

Hally shot her father a sideways glance. "Are you in the middle of something?"

"Yes." The Doctor hummed, the sound had an edge of apology to it, although it was also a tad impatient. "Little bit. Sorry."

Clara offered Hally a sympathetic smile.

The Doctor pulled her into a quick hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Yuh-huh…" Hally's mouth opened, her intention to ask him what was so urgent that Christmas with his granddaughter wasn't the priority when her brow furrowed into a deep frown. The sensation of his hug had been… strange. She pressed the bare skin of her hand against his chest, expecting to feel the coarseness of his jacket. However, despite the fact that his jacket was what she could see, what she felt under her hand was just skin. "Uh… are you wearing clothes?"

"No." He grinned, unashamedly.

She blinked slowly. "Why…?"

"Holographic clothes…" Clara offered, though it sounded like she was still trying to wrap her head around the absurdity of it herself.

"But… Why?" Hally repeated, looking between the pair of them.

"Because! I'm supposed to be going to church!" The Doctor exclaimed, as though this explained everything.

Jack barked a laugh from the sofa, his voice thick with amusement. "Well, this is certainly Christmas…"

Before she could squeeze an actual answer from her, apparently naked father, Handles, the Cyberhead, interrupted from over where Lily sat with him, pretending to pour him a cup of tea. "Information available."

The Doctor's face lit up. "Oh! Handles!"

Hally's eyes narrowed. "Is that thing safe?"

"Just a bit of a Cyberman," The Doctor waved her concern away with a casual flick of his hand. "He'll get us to the church on time."

"I have developed a fault," Handles announced flatly.

Hally cocked an eyebrow at her father.

"The organics are all gone, but there's still a full set of data banks." He explained, flapping his hands around. "Found him at the Maldovar Market."

Lily got up and handed the Cyberman head back to The Doctor. "He says he has a fault…"

"Oh, right, yes!" The Doctor accepted Handles without missing a beat.

Lily, eyes bright with excitement, looked over at the Christmas tree. "Can we finally open presents?"

"Yes, sweetheart." Hally leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her daughter's head before moving her attention back to The Doctor. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you going to church?" She pressed.

"There's a message…" The Doctor began, his face lighting up with that same wide-eyed, childlike excitement he always had when talking about the impossible. "Broadcast through all time and space, coming from this little planet. And everyone's rocking up, Cybermen, Daleks, Angels, Sontarans, you name it, they're there."

"And the church…?"

"Yes! They're there too," he replied, beaming.

That hadn't been what she'd been asking, but before she could press him further, Handles spoke again. "Planet identified from analysis of message."

"Right, cool. Go on, then," The Doctor gently and fondly shook the Cyberhead, leaning in eagerly. "Okay, tell us. What's the planet? Go on."

"Processing official designation," Handles droned.

Hally sighed softly, giving up on getting a straight answer from him as she moved over towards the tree to help Lily with the presents. Jack was already kneeling next to her, handing over gifts for her to mercilessly rip into.

"Okay, in your own time, dear. Don't rush," The Doctor muttered sarcastically under his breath, eyes still fixed on Handles.

Clara stepped in closer. "So why haven't we just popped onto the planet and had a look?"

"It's shielded. Even the TARDIS can't break through it," The Doctor clipped back quickly.

"Gallifrey."

All four adults froze. The only sound in the room came from Lily's excited gasps as she tore through wrapping paper, oblivious.

"What did you say?" The Doctor whispered, his voice quiet but dangerous.

"Gallifrey." Handles repeated.

Hally shot Jack a look as she slowly rose to her feet, her breath catching in her throat as she turned back to The Doctor. "What is it talking about?"

"Confirmed. Planet designation: Gallifrey."

The Doctor's face darkened instantly, a storm cloud brewing behind his eyes. Without a word, he stormed into the TARDIS, carrying the Cyberman head like it was suddenly more dangerous than it had been moments ago. Clara followed closely behind, worry etched into her features.

With a soft sigh and another glance at Jack, Hally followed them.

Inside the TARDIS, The Doctor plugged Handles into the console, his movements quick, almost frantic. His jaw was clenched, the tension rolling off him.

"Gallifrey is my home," he muttered angrily at the head. "I know it when I see it. That is not Gallifrey!" He pointed in accusation at the screen.

Clara's voice was quiet, cautious. "Doctor, are you okay?"

"It's not Gallifrey," he repeated, shaking his head, his voice tight. "Gallifrey is gone."

"Unless… unless you did save it," Clara ventured. "You thought you might have."

"Even if it survived, it's gone from this universe." He cut across her, his voice a mixture of resignation and pain. "That is not my home."

Hally stepped up to the console, her eyes tracing the scan of the white, small, snowy planet on the screen. She exhaled slowly, tension rolling through her.

It certainly didn't look like Gallifrey.

No.

The Doctor stared at the scanner, his brow furrowed.

"So, it's not Gallifrey…" Clara pressed gently, looking between the pair of them, something hopeful glimmering behind her eyes.

The Doctor scoffed, shaking his head.

"But it's still a planet broadcasting a message from Gallifrey...?" Hally offered as an alternative, her gaze meeting her fathers.

He shook his head, frustration bubbling under the surface. "It isn't possible."

"Maybe not... but would it hurt to check?"

He paused mid-step, turning to look at her. There was a beat of silence between them. His eyes flicked from her to the TARDIS doors. "It might be dangerous." He offered, slowly. His eyes not moving from hers. His way of giving her an out. Of letting her know that it'd be ok if she stayed behind. The words hung in the air, weighted by the choice he'd given her. The risk she was about to knowingly take. To leave with him, in the TARDIS and leave Lily behind. She didn't like it. Not at all. But somehow, she couldn't bear the alternative. The alternative would be not going.

"Give me a minute..."

He gave her a nod and she turned on her heel, stepping out of the TARDIS back into her lounge. The second Jack saw her face, he knew. She could see it in his expression. Rising to his feet, his eyes flicked between her and Lily. "Hal..."

"I know," she said softly. "But I can't take her with me... I won't be long." She met his gaze, a silent promise. "But if it is Gallifrey..."

"I know." Jack pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. "Go get him."

Behind them, Lily looked up, frowning as she rose to her feet. "Mum?"

Hally knelt down, wrapping her daughter in a tight embrace. "Hey, Lils… Mummy needs to go on a quick trip with Grandad, okay?"

Lily nodded, though her brow was still furrowed in concern. "Okay."

"Uncle Ianto and Uncle Jack are going to look after you," Hally said, brushing a hand through Lily's hair. "I shouldn't be too long."

Lily's face softened slightly, the curiosity in her eyes clear. "Did the head find Daddy?"

Hally smiled sadly, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't know... I'm going to go look."

Lily hugged her mother tightly, nodding. "Good. Go save Daddy."

Hally squeezed her daughter, glancing up at Jack in gratitude, then turned to head back into the TARDIS. The weight in her stomach churned as the door closed behind her and the TARDIS dematerialised. Leaving Lily behind felt so wrong. Every cell in her body was telling her to step off the ship and stay. Hally shook away the feeling, letting a quiet certainty settle onto her shoulders instead. No matter what, nothing would stop her from finding her way back.

The Doctor piloted them to the planet, setting the ship into orbit around it.

A deep, resounding foghorn blast echoed from outside.

The three of them turned to look at the door, Clara voicing the obvious. "What's that?"

The Doctor bounded down and opened the TARDIS doors, the source becoming clear. A giant, hulking great ship was hovering in front of them. Ominous and imposing.

"Papal Mainframe." The Doctor grinned. "It's like a big flying church. First ship to arrive—they're the ones who've shielded the planet. They can get us down there."

In the space between the large ship and the TARDIS a hologram flickered into life, the face of a woman stared back at them, the ghost of a smirk curving at her lips.

Clara blinked. "A friend of yours?"

"Tasha Lem," The Doctor replied, nodding at the hologram. "Mother Superious of the Papal Mainframe."

The hologram beckoned, and The Doctor grinned. "Oh, she's inviting us aboard."

"Why?" Clara asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Because I asked her." He handed them both small white tablets.

Clara inspected hers, brow furrowing. "What is it?"

"Hologram projector," The Doctor explained nonchalantly. "You can't go to church with your clothes on."

Hally's head snapped toward him, eyes widening in disbelief. "What?"

But before she could protest, the TARDIS flew into the Mainframe.

They stepped out onto a red carpet, flanked by two rows of military personnel. The formality of the moment felt absurd, given the circumstances.

Clara shifted uncomfortably. "I don't feel like I'm wearing anything."

"I know…" The Doctor said with a grin. "Relaxing, isn't it?"

Hally shot him a sharp look. "No... I think walking around naked with my Dad is the opposite of relaxing."

Clara took in the surroundings. "What is this place?"

"The Church of the Papal Mainframe," The Doctor explained. "Security hub of the known universe."

"A security church?" Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Yep," he replied. "Keeping you safe in this world and the next. I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious." The Doctor bowed deeply as they approached the rather imposing figure that was Tasha Lem, who stood at the end of the walkway, waiting with her entourage. Clara, unsure, curtsied awkwardly.

Hally's gaze flicked across the human and her father, not moving to follow his lead. The Doctor shot her a sharp glance, but said nothing.

A man in uniform stepped forward. "Welcome to the Church of the Papal Mainframe. Your nudity is appreciated."

"Hey, babes." Tasha greeted The Doctor with a smirk, her eyes drifting shamelessly over him.

"Loving the frock," The Doctor shot back, a twinkle in his eye.

Tasha raised an eyebrow. "Is that a new body? Give us a twirl."

The Doctor chuckled, twirling dramatically. "This old thing? Please, I've been rocking it for centuries."

"Nice though. Tight." Her gaze shifted, locking onto Hally, shamelessly appraising her. A small smile curved at the edge of her lips.

The Doctor cleared his throat, cutting in quickly. "I apologise for my daughter's... um... rudeness."

Tasha's smile grew, a predatory edge to it. "Now, now, Doctor. It wouldn't be proper for a Queen to bow, now would it?"

Hally shot her father a smug smile, sticking her tongue out petulantly at him.

"Although..." Tasha added, her voice dripping with amusement, "you're not quite a Queen yet, are you?"

Hally held her gaze, a spark of playful defiance in her eyes. "I'm still not bowing. The nakedness should be enough."

Tasha's grin widened, teeth flashing. "Oh, it is more than enough."

Clara piped up. "So, er, hello. Also here."

The Doctor turned, gesturing toward Clara. "Clara, this is Tasha Lem, the Head of the Church of the Papal Mainframe. Tash… This is my, my…" The Doctor swallowed, looking from Clara to Tasha and back again. "…associate, Clara Oswald. Miss Clara Oswald."

Tasha acknowledged her with a quick glance before returning her attention to The Doctor, as if Clara's presence was of little consequence. "We'll go to my chapel. All honours in place, no sacrifices required."

Tasha turned and the three of them began to follow through the strangely macabre metal ship, The Doctor jogging to catch up with her, shooting a look back at Clara as he did so. "It was Tasha who shielded the planet. But you could sneak me down there, couldn't you, Tash?" His tone was casual, but the urgency beneath it was unmistakable.

Tasha paused outside the door to what Hally assumed was her chapel, her expression remained guarded as she responded, "I would have conditions." She then turned to Clara and Hally, her tone brooking no argument. "I have confidential matters to discuss with The Doctor. Would you excuse us?"

The Doctor blinked, flustered. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them... Well, quite a lot of it. Probably about half. Maybe a smidge under..." He trailed off, eyes flicking from Tash to Clara and then to his daughter. "Actually, would both of you mind waiting out here, please?"

Hally waved it off with a grin. "No worries." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "You two get yourselves a room."

The Doctor, sputtered, "Yes, quite. No, stop it."

Clara snorted. "Boss of the psycho space nuns. So you."

Tasha said nothing, simply turning and leading The Doctor into the private chapel. The heavy door swung shut behind them, leaving Clara and Hally standing in awkward silence outside.

After a moment, Clara shifted uncomfortably, her eyes scanning the room. Hally looked away from the human and towards the door, her face scrunching with distaste. "Hally..." Clara's voice was barely above a breath.

Hally turned, following Clara's gaze, but saw nothing. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You alright?"

Clara's eyes were wide as she turned to look at her, a slight frown appeared on her face as she nodded slowly. "Yes…"

The Time Lady cocked an eyebrow at the human, her gaze again drifting to the corridor they'd just walked down.

She saw it.

The Silence.

Just a glimpse as it seemed to glide between the pillars.

Her breath hitched.

Then, it was gone.

Clara was looking at her, Hally could feel it. Turning back towards the human, she offered her a small smile, slightly uncertain as to why she was fixing her with such a curious look. "What?"

Before Clara could open her mouth, a chilling hiss of a voice echoed from behind them. "Confess."

They both spun around, Hally's pulse quickening as the Silence loomed in front of them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

"Confess," it repeated, it's voice a low horrifying hiss.

Clara stumbled back. "What are you? Why do I keep forgetting you?"

"They're called the Silence…" Hally bit back at her.

Clara's head snapped toward her. "What?"

"You can only remember them while you're looking at them," Hally explained, her voice wavering.

"Remember what?"

Hally grabbed Clara's chin and turned her head back towards the creature.

"Oh…" The human squeaked.

The Silence wasn't alone, more of them crept their way from out of the shadows towards them. Her back hit the door to the chapel as she backed away.

"Confess. Confess…" The creatures spoke over one another with their haunting chants.

Panic surged through Hally. She turned and with Clara not far behind burst into the chapel, throwing the door open with force.

The Doctor looked up from where he was, leaning across the central alter. Although, it did look a little like a bed… "Are you okay?" His eyes darted between the pair of them, concern etched into his features.

Clara forced a smile, trying to shake off the fear still lingering in her chest. "Fine. Yeah, fine. Sorry."

Hally blinked. Her hearts were racing.

Tasha quickly composed herself. "Right. This is my personal teleport," she said, gesturing to a confessional-style booth. "I can put you down just outside the town. Find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour. And on your life, Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there."

The Doctor stepped into the teleport booth, his usual nonchalance back in full force. "When do I?" he quipped, but quickly cut himself off. "Don't answer that."

As he drew the curtain, Tasha swiftly pulled it back, her hand outstretched expectantly.

"What?" The Doctor blinked.

"I'm not an idiot. Everyone in this church is trained to see straight through holograms."

Clara let out a sigh. "Ah. Great."

"Kinky."

Tasha's expression remained firm. "Give it. You are taking no technology of any kind down there."

The Doctor huffed, feigning innocence. "What can I do with a key? You, in, now." He wiggled his fingers towards Hally and Clara, who swiftly obliged.

Tasha scowled at him. "You could summon your TARDIS."

"The TARDIS doesn't work by remote!" The Doctor grumbled, before finally relenting. "Fine. If it makes you feel any better—there we are." He pressed his TARDIS key into her palm as the two women stepped into the other cubicle. Tasha adjusted the teleport controls, casting a final glance at The Doctor.

"Remember. I want you back in one hour."

Snow swirled around them as The Doctor, Clara, and Hally materialised on the planet's surface, a bitter cold immediately smacking against her uncovered skin.

"Cold," Clara muttered, her breath visible in the freezing air. "Very cold."

"Naked in the snow. Wonderful, just wonderful," Hally grumbled, her arms wrapping tightly around herself. It didn't do much.

The Doctor tried fruitlessly to bring warmth to the human by rubbing his hands up and down her arms. He moved to repeat the action on his daughter, but she shot him a scowl. "No. I do not need to be reminded that none of us are wearing any clothes."

"Okay, don't worry. There's a heat loss filter in your hologram shell. It'll kick in, just give it a moment." He turned his attention to the snowy landscape. "So, sweet little town covered in snow, half the universe in terror. Why? Why?"

"Oh, my God!" Clara gasped.

The Doctor's head whipped toward her. "What?"

Clara pointed to the floor, just a few meters beside them. "There's something under the snow. It's—"

"What is it?" The Doctor was already moving closer.

Clara reached out, her fingers brushing against cold stone. "It's cold."

A wave of dread washed over Hally as her eyes caught sight of it. "Clara, move away from it!"

Clara hesitated, her confusion clear. "It's stone. It's just stone. It's only a statue."

The Doctor's face darkened. "Clara, step away!"

Before either of them could pull her away, the stone hand had clamped around Clara's ankle.

"Clara, keep looking at it. Don't look away. Don't even blink!" The Doctor shouted, panic flooding his voice.

Clara's voice trembled. "What is it?"

The Doctor's response was clipped and tense. "There is a Weeping Angel under the snow. It looks like a statue, but it isn't. Can you get your foot out?"

Clara's eyes widened. "Only if I get it out of my shoe."

"You're not wearing a shoe."

"Good point."

"Okay, pull hard. One, two, three!" With a sharp tug, Clara freed herself, and they tumbled backwards into the snow. Around them, the Weeping Angels began to rise, their stone forms emerging from the drifts like waking nightmares.

"Doctor!" Hally's voice trembled with fear, turning away from her father to hopelessly stare at the Angels awakening from behind them.

"Yes! I know!" He barked, his eyes darting between the rising figures.

"They're climbing out of the snow. Oh, God!" Clara cried out.

"Keep looking at them," The Doctor ordered. "At all of them."

"Why?" Clara's voice shook.

"Quantum-locked lifeforms. They can only move if they're unobserved."

Clara's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are they doing here?"

"Same as everybody else," The Doctor muttered darkly. "Must've gotten past Tasha's shield."

They were surrounded.

The Weeping Angels loomed closer, stone forms inching toward them. The snow had whipped up in the flurry around it, obscuring their view.

"Keep looking!" The Doctor shouted, his voice strained with urgency.

"I can't. I can't see. The snow's in my eyes."

The Angels inched closer. The Doctor glanced around, searching for a solution. "I just need to bring the TARDIS down." He muttered, more to himself than to them.

"You can't fly it remotely!" Clara reminded him, her voice breaking with fear.

"No, but it can home in on the key." The Doctor barked back.

Clara stared at him in disbelief. "But she took your key!"

"She took one of them." The Doctor smirked as he reached up and unzipped the back of his hair.

In an instant, he had whipped off his wig, revealing, with a proud smile, a TARDIS key.

Hally blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

The Doctor grinned. "Classic, right?"

He held the key up high, and almost instantly, the familiar sound of the TARDIS engines echoed around them. The blue box materialised around them, blocking out the cold, the snow and the Angels.

The Doctor beamed with satisfaction. "The old key-in-the-quiff routine. Never fails." He casually tossed the wig onto Handles, who was still plugged into the console.

The look Clara was giving The Doctor could only be described as sheer horror. "You shaved your head?"

The Doctor grinned, clearly too pleased with himself. "Yep. Clever plan to get us past the shield."

Clara raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "You got bored one night, didn't you?"

"Maybe just a tiny bit bored."

Clara crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Is that what happened to your eyebrows?"

The Doctor's expression faltered for a second. "No, they're just delicate."

Hally snorted, shaking her head.

Clara's face twisted as she eyed his bald head. "Could you put it back on? Please?"

"Why?" The Doctor blinked at her.

"Because it's weird!" Clara shuddered.

"It's so weird…" Hally muttered, her face scrunched with distaste.

"Your ears are like rocket fins."

The Doctor grinned. "I know!" Despite his words, he quickly grabbed the wig off Handles and plopped it back on his head.

The TARDIS hummed as the Doctor moved to the controls, scanning the console. "Right, homing in on the mysterious message… Oooh yes, I like that. The mysterious message."

Clara rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist a smile. "Setting us down near the signal source?" she guessed.

"Exactly!" The Doctor flipped a few switches, his fingers dancing over the controls. "And I'm going to turn the engines on silent. Don't want to make a fuss."

"Can we put some bloody clothes on now?" Hally huffed.

The TARDIS landed quietly, and they stepped outside, greeted by the crisp air of the snow-covered town.

Clara let out a sigh of relief, adjusting her winter coat. "Oh, it's good to be wearing clothes again. That's so much better, don't you think?"

The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area, his eyes taking in the quaint, festive village. Trees lined the streets, adorned with glowing lights, and the buildings were as though they'd been plucked right from a Christmas card, warm and inviting, despite the layer of snow. He frowned. "Now, what do we make of this place? It's two o'clock in the afternoon… Must be very short days here."

Hally wrapped her arms around herself. "Feels like a postcard."

Clara glanced up at the large tower in the distance. "Is that where the message is coming from?"

The Doctor nodded, eyes focused. "Yep. That tower. Time to investigate."

The three of them started towards the tower, but before they could get too far, they noticed people. A middle-aged couple, residents she assumed. Both bundled in coats and scarves. They smiled politely.

"Hello!" The Doctor called out, putting on a friendly tone. "Right, we're a couple from the next town." He motioned towards himself and Clara. "… she's my sister." He pointed at her. "My name's probably Hank or Rock, something like that."

Clara gave him a sideways look. "Or Daisy?" she muttered under her breath.

"Shut up." The Doctor replied, forcing a grin as the couple came closer. "Hello, good to meet you. Nice snow."

The man spoke first, his voice soft and friendly. "Most pleasant to meet you too."

"Most pleasant," echoed the woman beside him.

"I'm The Doctor," he began, then faltered as his mouth seemed to take over. "I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I stole a time machine and ran away and I've been flouting the principal law of my own people ever since." His eyes widened in surprise. "That… wasn't what I was meant to say."

Hally jumped in, laughing nervously. "I'm Hally, his daughter. And yes, the visible age similarity freaks me out too. Part Time Lord, part human, entirely too stubborn for my own good." She grimaced. "Okay, shutting up now. Do remind me never to come back here."

Clara gave a wry smile. "I'm an English teacher from planet Earth, and I've run off with a man from space because I really fancy—"

The woman interrupted kindly. "I think, perhaps, you should stop talking till you get used to it."

"Used to what?" The Doctor asked, his brow furrowing.

"What did you say your name was?" the woman asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Clara didn't miss a beat. "Bubbly personality masking bossy control freak."

The Doctor's face lit up. "I'm wearing a wig! No, ah, I see. Yes, of course. It's a truth field. Oh, that is so quaint. I haven't seen a truth field in years." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm wearing a wig."

"No one can lie in this town," the man explained, nodding toward the tower. "Especially this close to the tower."

The Doctor's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Doesn't that make life a bit difficult?"

"Not at all," the woman responded smoothly.

"Yes," her companion admitted immediately.

Clara stifled a laugh, but The Doctor pressed on. "This town, what's it called?"

"Christmas," the woman answered.

The Doctor looked puzzled. "It's July."

"No, the town," she clarified. "The town is Christmas. That's what it's called."

"Be happy here," the man said as they walked away. "Be well."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "How can a town be called Christmas?"

The Doctor shrugged. "How can an island be called Easter? Maybe it's just nice here." He sighed, glancing at the tower. "I almost hate to find out what's wrong."

The three of them approached the tower as the three tones chimed out across the rooftops. Clara hummed, clearly not quite able to resist the urge to speak. "Tasha was sort of sexy, wasn't she? In that scary kind of way."

Hally and The Doctor answered at the same time.

"Yes."

"Mmhmm."

She balked and the pair of them swiftly avoided any kind of eye contact.

"Okay," Hally said firmly, "how about we put an end to any kind of small talk while we're hanging around this truth field?"

The Doctor nodded vigorously. "Agreed."

As they crossed the threshold into the tower, the atmosphere thickened. Charged with a palpable energy that prickled along Hally's skin. Her attention was immediately drawn to the far wall, where a jagged crack split the wood like a wound. From within the fissure, a strange, white light bled out, flickering in irregular pulses. It wasn't just glowing, it seemed alive, shimmering and shifting as though the wall itself was struggling to contain whatever was trapped inside. The light cast eerie, dancing shadows.

"There you are," The Doctor whispered, his tone laced with grim acknowledgement. "What took you so long?"

Clara stepped forward, frowning. "What's wrong? It's just a crack in the wall."

But Hally knew better. It wasn't just a crack. She could sense it. The power of it, the chaos.

The Doctor's voice was low, almost to himself. "I always knew it wasn't over."

Clara looked between them, confused. "What is it?"

"A split in the skin of reality," he said, turning to Hally. "Just like the one you fell through…"

Hally's throat tightened, a vague sense of deja vu washing over her as her eyes skimmed across the shape.

The Doctor raised his hand, hovering it just above the crack, his fingers almost touching the glowing light. "A tiny sliver of the 26th of June, 2010. The day the universe blew up."

Clara blinked. "Missed that."

"I rebooted it. Put it all back together."

"Well, that's good, right?" Clara asked, still trying to make sense of it.

The Doctor smiled grimly. "It was my TARDIS that blew it up in the first place. I felt... responsible." His hand lingered near the crack. "But the scar tissue remains. A structural weakness in the universe."

His eyes darkened as he continued. "And now, someone's trying to get through it. From outside our universe. From somewhere else."

Clara shook her head. "Wait, what? Someone's trying to break in?"

"Of course…" The Doctor muttered, almost as if she hadn't spoken. "If you were trying to break through a wall, you'd choose the weakest spot. If you were trying to break into this universe, you'd choose this crack. Because… no." He stopped abruptly, his face tightening in realisation. "If you were trying to break back into this universe."

Hally glanced toward the Cyberhead, which The Doctor had brought along, plonking it on a nearby workbench. "It said Gallifrey..." she murmured, the word hanging between them.

Handles whirred to life. "Analysis of message composition indicates Gallifreyan origin, according to TARDIS databanks."

Clara's face tightened. "You said Gallifrey was gone."

The Doctor didn't turn to her. His gaze was locked on the crack, his expression intense. "No. I said it was in another universe. The message is coming through here. The truth field is too, at a guess. If it's the Time Lords…" He glanced at Hally, and for a moment, their eyes locked.

Something passed between them, something she couldn't put into words. A look, a feeling. Between a father and daughter. Between two of the last of their species. It was hopeful and afraid. Longing. Sharp and understanding. A knowing that this, this could change everything.

Then, after a moment, it was gone.

The Doctor practically jumped away from the wall. His lips curved into a faint smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a round object. "Seal of the High Council of Gallifrey," he announced, holding it up with a flourish. "Nicked it off The Master in the Death Zone." He pointed at Hally. "…don't start."

Hally raised an eyebrow but said nothing, a smirk tugging at her lips.

The Doctor pressed the seal against Handles. "There's an algorithm imprinted in the atomic structure. Use it to decode the message."

Handles buzzed for a moment before responding. "Message decoding. Message analysis proceeding. Information available. The message is a request for information."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up. "It's a question? Why can't you just say it's a question!?"

"It is being projected through all of time and space on a repeating cycle," Handles droned. "The oldest question in the universe, hidden in plain sight."

Hally's heart skipped a beat.

She'd heard those words before.

Hadn't she?

She couldn't quite place it.

"Warning," Handles continued. "Translation will be available to all lifeforms in range. Translation follows. Doctor who? Doctor who? Doctor who? Doctor who?"

Hally watched as her father's expression turned cold.

"A question only I could answer. A truth field to make sure I'm not lying. If I give my name, they'll know they've found the right place. And that it's safe to come through."

Clara took a step forward, her voice rising. "The Time Lords? Okay, so what happens if you answer? What happens if they come back?"

The Doctor cleared his throat.

She didn't need to look at him to know what he was thinking.

Most likely it was exactly the same process of thoughts that was filtering through her own mind.

If the Time Lords returned here and now, it would be war. The planet was surrounded, by so many of their enemies. They could not return. Not here.

And yet, this was her only chance.

The Time Lords couldn't return.

But perhaps, she could slip through.

Without a word, The Doctor pulled a small device from his pocket and handed it to Clara.

"Take this to the TARDIS and put it in the charger slot for the sonic," he said quickly.

"Why?" Clara asked, her voice trembling.

"Hell," The Doctor replied, his eyes hardening. "All hell, that's what happens if the Time Lords come back. There's half a universe up there already, waiting to open fire. Now please, go to the TARDIS and just do as I say."

Clara hesitated for a second, then turned and ran.

As soon as she was gone, The Doctor's gaze shifted to Hally. "I know what you're thinking." His voice held something heavy, something sad and almost final.

Her expression softened. "Are you going to stop me?"

"No."

She stared at him. "What about you?"

"I'll keep it safe," he said, nodding toward the crack. "In case you need to come back through."

Both of them turned to the crack, its light still pulsing, as if beckoning.

A voice echoed in the distance, crackling through the tower.

"Doctor," Tasha's voice called out. "Doctor."

The Doctor grabbed Hally's arm, pulling her closer. "Quickly," he whispered, his eyes filled with unspoken concern. "Hally…" She paused, looking back at him, something tense and unspoken hovering between them. "Be careful," he added softly.

She nodded.

Hally took a deep breath, steeling herself, and with a slow step forward pressed her hand into the crack. The light seemed to bend, rippling like water as it parted for her. Turning her head over her shoulder she looked at her father, his eyes met hers and then, she stepped through.

On the other side, was white. She was floating in an endless, blinding white space. There was no floor beneath her feet, no horizon to anchor her, just vast emptiness stretching out in every direction. When she turned back, she could still make out the crack, a thin sliver of the world she had left behind, framed against the emptiness like a fragment of reality. Through it, she watched as The Doctor moved away, his figure fading.

Swallowing hard, she took a step forward. There was no sound—no echo of her footfall, no sense of weight or space around her. It was like walking through nothingness. She felt unmoored, her sense of direction dissolving as the void pressed in. Still, she moved forward.

After what felt like an eternity, her eyes focused on another slither that glittered in her vision, thin and glowing in the empty expanse. It flickered faintly, beckoning her. Hally approached cautiously, kneeling down to peer through the jagged opening. On the other side was a dark, narrow room, cold stone walls illuminated by a couple of flickering flames. The room seemed to be empty.

No alarms, no guards. Just silence.

She slid through the crack, the air shifting around her as she emerged into the dark room. Straightening up, Hally glanced around quickly. The room was concrete and cold, small and featureless, with a single staircase winding upward in the corner.

Her heartbeats were pounding in her throat. She had expected some form of resistance, a defence system, alarms, something. Surely they were monitoring the crack? But perhaps they'd never considered anyone would come through from the other side.

Hally crept to the staircase, taking the steps slowly, her muscles tensed and ready. The air was colder here, heavy with the scent of stone and metal. She reached the top, cautiously peering into the next room. This one wasn't empty. Four Chancellery guards lingered, in their bright red robes with the gold-plated armour, casually lounging around the table.

Hally froze.

The sight of them sent a rush of adrenaline through her body, her breath froze in her lungs.

Now was not the moment to panic.

She couldn't risk a fight, not yet. Not when she wasn't certain where exactly she was, or how many guards were within the building.

Stealth and surprise were her current and only advantage.

Instead, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, focusing on the guards. Her breath slowed as she concentrated, willing them to sleep. One by one, their movements faltered, eyes drooping until they slumped down, unconscious. The room was still once more.

Hally exhaled, releasing the tension from her shoulders. She whispered a quick apology as she knelt beside one of the guards and began stripping him of his uniform. The red tunic was thick and heavy in her hands, an official Chancellery Guard uniform that marked its wearer as someone of rank. She slipped it over her own clothes, tugging at the fabric until it fit snugly against her body. There was a cloak on the wall—dark, with a heavy hood. She grabbed it and pulled it low over her face, shrouding herself in its folds.

I'm on Gallifrey.

The realisation hit her with a force that nearly made her stagger. Her hearts pounded in her chest, the sound deafening in the still room. Gallifrey.

Swallowing the bile in her throat she quelled the rising panic. There was no time to dwell. She couldn't be seen, couldn't be recognised. A downside to never having regenerated. Her face was too familiar, too easily known. If anyone saw her and realised who she was, it would be over. She would without a doubt certainly try to fight back Rassilon and the entirety of his guard, but the odds of getting The Master away safely would dramatically reduce should Rassilon be alerted to her presence.

Moving quickly, Hally exited the room and navigated the corridors beyond. Ascending and eventually reaching ground level. She emerged into the grand hall of the Panopticon, the heart of Gallifrey's Citadel. The vast dome stretched above her, still bearing the scars of war. Reconstruction efforts were evident, piles of stone and scaffolding littered the edges, and workers moved about, rebuilding. Her eyes grazed over her surroundings. It suggested time had passed since the Last Day. How much she couldn't tell. Nothing remained from the war, debris had been cleared, the dead were gone. And yet, they were still rebuilding. A few years, perhaps?

She forced herself to walk with purpose, her eyes trained straight ahead. Guards and officials milled about, but none of them paid her any attention. She kept her head low, the hood hiding her face, as she made her way through the arching corridors.

But leaving the Panopticon wouldn't be easy. Chancellery Guards had designated stations; they didn't wander aimlessly. A solitary figure in bright red was bound to attract suspicion. Hally stopped by a door, pressing herself against the wall as a group of Time Lords passed by, deep in discussion.

Her gaze drifted toward the girl walking behind them. She was young, maybe in her early teens, struggling under the weight of a stack of books. The girl's grey robe was plain, almost drab, compared to the ornate outfits of the Time Lords she followed.

A Shobogan.

The sight sparked an idea. The Shobogans, servants, house staff, and workers who roamed Gallifrey practically unnoticed by the elite. If she could find a plain grey robe, she would almost be able to move about freely, practically invisible. No one paid attention to the Shobogans. Time Lords were far too proud to notice the lower ranks.

But where to find one?

She weighed her options, glancing around. Breaking into someone's quarters would be risky, and she wasn't completely certain where she could find spare robes within the Citadel. She did know, however, that the academy kept quarters for the Shobogans. If she could get there, she was sure she could change her disguise. The academy lay outside of the Citadel, served by a high-speed shuttle. She could make it.

Adjusting the cloak around her, she walked briskly out of the Panopticon building. The key to navigating Gallifrey was an overarching confidence, acting, without a doubt, like she was supposed to be there. Time Lords, for all their arrogance, rarely questioned authority if it seemed legitimate. She had to walk like she owned the place, like she had every right to be there.

She boarded the shuttle, her hood still low, and watched the Citadel slip away behind her. The journey was short, and when she arrived at the academy's quarters, she quickly found her way to the lower levels and the laundry room. She passed many Shobogans, not a single one questioned why a Chancellery Guard was wandering the lower hallways.

She entered the laundry room. The grey robes hung in neat rows, unremarkable, dull. Exactly what she needed.

Hally grabbed a set and found an empty room nearby. She stripped off the Chancellery uniform and her clothes underneath, shoving them into a corner, out of sight. The grey robe was rough against her skin, but it would do. She tied her hair back, washing away the makeup she had applied that morning.

She needed to be plain, unremarkable.

Unnoticeable.

At least, that's what she hoped.

Since she was already at the academy, Hally figured she might as well search for The Master, though she knew the chances of him being there were slim. As she wandered through the familiar yet altered halls, a weird sort of nostalgia crept over her. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. The academy had changed, it had been rebuilt in places, entire rooms relocated. The whole library had been moved.

She found herself getting lost more than once, navigating the labyrinthine corridors that led her to forgotten corners of the academy—old classrooms and lecture halls, some still cloaked in dust and debris from ongoing reconstruction. Silence seemed to hang invitingly in those quiet, deserted spaces. Clutching a bundle of bedsheets tightly to her chest, she walked with purpose, hoping it would give the impression she belonged, that she was just another worker attending to some important task.

Where could The Master be?

The last time she had seen him, he had been on the verge of killing Rassilon, and she couldn't imagine he was wandering freely now. Nevertheless, she checked the teaching boards, rotas, and scholar room plans, but his name was absent from any of them.

He was either hiding somewhere on the surface of this vast planet or locked away beneath the Capitol. Both options were going to make finding him rather impossible.

"If I were the Master, where would I go…" she thought to herself, her mind racing with the seemingly endless possibilities. He could easily vanish into the slums of the Citadel or become a hermit deep in the wilderness. Maybe he'd pitch a tent on Mount Cadon, far away from prying eyes.

But if he was hiding, she would need to make some noise, something that would draw his attention. But that kind of racket could easily attract Rassilon's notice, and she wasn't keen on facing him again. What she needed was to think. To take a moment, draw breath and actually consider a plan. Jumping onto Gallifrey was all well and good, she was closer to finding him than she'd been for years, but the task of actually rescuing him from this god-forsaken planet was perhaps the most impossible task of all.

Her feet had led her somewhere familiar, carrying her instinctively to a door she knew all too well.

It was his room. Their room.

Hally clicked open the lock and pushed the door open, half-hoping he would be there, yet fully expecting emptiness. What she found was not what she had anticipated. The room bore little resemblance to The Master's former sanctuary. The dark bookcases had vanished, replaced by lighter furnishings that gave the space an airy, welcoming feel. The grand bed that had once dominated the room was gone, and black silk bedsheets nowhere to be found.

She took a moment to look around, but it quickly became evident that there was nothing of The Master left. It was not his room anymore. It struck her that it had been stupid to assume it would have been.

Hally sank into a nearby chair. Fatigue rolled over her in relentless waves, dragging her down into a pit of wallowing. How am I supposed to do this? The thought spun wildly in her mind, gaining momentum, feeding her panic. This was not her forte. Waiting. Planning. Searching. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find focus. She had thought getting to Gallifrey would be the hardest part—that somehow, the universe would conspire to help her, point her in the right direction. But the universe wasn't helping. It was silent. She was alone. And she had no idea where to begin.

She tried to press her mind outwards, to hone in on him but the air around her buzzed, thick with the thoughts and emotions of countless telepathic minds. They pressed in on her, like static she couldn't shut off, drowning out her own thoughts in a maddening hum. She tried to sift through it, to find some thread that might lead her to him, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. How could she possibly find him here, in this sea of consciousness, without drawing attention to herself?

She had assumed it would be easy. Part of her had even believed that The Master would somehow sense her, that fate or instinct would guide her straight to him. But there was no guiding hand. No cosmic nudge in the right direction. Just the unbearable pressure of countless minds and the hollow realisation that she was completely on her own and she had no idea what she was doing.

Her pulse quickened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as panic crept in. She could push harder, stretch her mind beyond, force her way through the noise, but that would make her presence known. And though no one was actively searching for her, the last thing she wanted was to attract attention.

Tears stung her eyes, her throat tightening as she fought them back. She wasn't ready to give in to the despair clawing at her, but the enormity of her task loomed large, casting shadows over any sense of hope. The weight of it settled like a stone in her chest, and the longer she sat there, the heavier it became. The air around her felt suffocating, too thick to breathe, and for the first time in a long while, Hally felt small. Insignificant.

Deep breath.

Okay.

He wasn't here in the academy. She couldn't sense him within these walls, which meant she would have to venture back into the Citadel. Surely someone would know where he was. But asking questions about The Master was bound to raise eyebrows, even if it was a simple Shobogan girl inquiring. The thought of stepping into the Citadel again made her nervous. She was more likely to run into someone who recognised her.

But if anyone had The Master, they'd have him there.

Considering the last time she had seen him, she made an assumption that somewhere what had happened would be documented. Whether The Master had managed to kill Rassilon or not, the attempt would be noted down and with it the outcome. Whether The Master had been exiled or imprisoned, it would be noted within the Archives. Everything pertaining to the last days of the Time War would have been recorded.

She nodded to herself, forcing her body to its feet. A partial plan formed in her mind: the archives first, then if she found nothing, she'd need a way to get closer to the Council.

She left the Academy, catching the land-speed shuttle back to the Capitol. Once she arrived, she swapped the bedsheets for papers, hoping to lend the illusion of returning documents to the Archive for whoever "owned" her.

God, I'd forgotten how awful Time Lords actually were.

A wry smile curved her mouth, a surge of gratitude welling in her for the chance she'd had to raise Lily on Earth.

Hally stepped into the Archive, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and the hushed whispers of academics. She pretended to organise the papers she'd collected, her hearts racing as she scanned the trial documents stacked nearby. They detailed a plethora of war criminals, primarily deserters, but she found nothing of use regarding The Master. Frustration brewed within her as she rifled through books about the Time War, checking dates and facts. She had estimated well; the Last Day for Time Lords had technically occurred about five years prior.

As she read through accounts filled with familiar details, the War Council, The Doctor, Rassilon, and the infamous ascension plan, but she found not a single mention of The Master. The closest reference was a cryptic note about "the link Rassilon created being broken."

History books only tell one side.

The information was useless. The Master could still be wandering the deserts, or worse, trapped in a cell somewhere that had gone undocumented. But then, something caught her eye, a list of casualties from the Last Day.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she read that Rassilon had indeed regenerated on his return from Earth.

Koschei managed to kill him at least once.

A flicker of triumph lit up her spirits. Scanning the information, she noted that Rassilon had regenerated within the Panopticon. If The Master had found himself in the heart of the Panopticon, surrounded by Rassilon's guards and other Time Lords, it was unlikely he'd escaped capture.

A male voice interrupted her concentration. "What are you doing?" She turned to see two scholars watching her, their purple robes adorned with white sashes marking them as Academy scholars, practically interns.

"Uh…" she stammered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

"I didn't think Shobogans could read," one of them sneered, a glint of malice lurking behind his eyes.

Hally fought the urge to scoff and straightened her posture. "I was returning documents to the archive for my… master." The word tasted like ash on her tongue. "I apologise for the disruption, my Lords."

One of the scholars remained in place, effectively blocking her exit, while the other circled around her, eyes narrowing as they scrutinised her.

"You don't look like a Shobogan," he remarked, a predatory smile creeping across his face.

"Mmm, she's quite pretty," the other chimed, his gaze lingering over her as if she were an object of fascination.

"What house did you say you belonged to?" the one currently circling behind her pressed.

"I di—The House of Dvora, my Lord," she managed, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

The scholar near the alcove hummed thoughtfully. "I think what you meant to say was 'The Great and Mighty House of Dvora.'" The gleam in his eyes was almost gleeful.

"Yes, my Lord. Apologies, my Lords, but I really must be leaving." Hally took a step forward, only to find the one who had been circling the table stepping into her path. He reached out, grabbing her wrist and yanking up the sleeve of her robe to inspect her forearm. Hally stilled, fighting the instinct to pull away, allowing him to repeat the action on her other arm.

"Hmm, yes, except the House of Dvora brand their staff, don't they?" he taunted, a cruel smile curling his lips as his grip tightened around her forearm.

The one by the doorway sauntered over to join him. "Oh dear, have we caught ourselves a liar?"

"I think we have…" The one holding her arm twisted it suddenly, forcing it behind her back in a painful hold that immobilised her, the muscles of her arm screaming out with pain. The other stepped in closer, sneering as he pressed his chest up against hers.

"Get off me," she hissed, her weak attempt at a struggle sent a shooting pain through her arm. She could fight them. Easily. They'd be down within seconds but any ruckus would attract unwanted attention, and right now, she just needed to leave.

"You don't speak like a Shobogan," one sneered, amusement dancing across his features.

"You don't hold yourself like a Shobogan," the other chimed in, his expression gleeful as they toyed with her.

"Yes, alright, fine!" Hally huffed, trying a different tactic. "I came from the Academy. I don't have permission to be here, so I snuck in." Her words were harsh, snapped at them both.

The boy behind her chuckled and released her arm. "Gotcha."

Hally glared at him, rolling her shoulder. "Now, go away, will you?"

The one in front smirked, leaning in closer. "No…"

"I don't think we will," his friend added, the words dripping with mockery.

Hally huffed in exasperation and tried to move again, but the one in front seized her hair, pulling her back with a painful yank that made her yelp. He quickly muffled her cry with his hand, his grip forcing her to silence.

"Chill out, stop wriggling," he ordered, his voice dripping with condescension.

She shot him a venomous glare, resentment boiling beneath her skin.

"You see, we should report you," he continued, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather.

"Mmhmm, we should," his friend echoed, feigning indifference.

"But we might not," the first one said, pretending to contemplate their options.

"Depends on what you're up for offering for our silence?" The look on his face left no doubt as to what he wanted.

They removed their hands from her mouth, and Hally seized the moment. "Nothing, you sick fucks."

"What is going on here?" a sharp voice cut through to them, slicing through the atmosphere like a blade.

"Lord Vintner, this girl should not be here. She was impersonating a Shobogan," one of the boys protested, their bravado faltering under the weight of authority.

Vintner studied Hally, his sharp green eyes assessing her from head to toe, lingering on her face as if searching for something. He didn't appear old, perhaps in his late thirties by human standards, with curly brown hair framing his features. "Yes. I can see that." His voice was firm, laced with disapproval as he glared down at the two scholars. "That doesn't explain why you felt it necessary to manhandle her. Get out of my sight. Both of you."

As the two boys scrambled away, Hally swallowed hard, taking a slow step back, grateful for the unexpected intervention.

"You. With me." His voice brooked no argument, his eyes pinning her in place with an authority she couldn't ignore. Alright, she decided to go with him, thinking she could simply continue her earlier deception. Perhaps he'd give her a slap on the wrist and let her go.

He led her into a side room, an office, and shut the door with a definitive click, locking it behind them. Hally opened her mouth, but he cut her off with a sharp hiss.

"Are you insane?"

Her mouth dropped open to jump into her pre-rehearsed excuse, but his words had her pause.

"You thought wandering around the Citadel with your face on show was a good idea? Half of the city is on high alert."

Ah, she hadn't heard… "Oh."

"The Council are under the impression that The Doctor has broken back onto Gallifrey…"

Her eyes widened. They had noticed something come through the crack.

"Which I can see now is not the case. The reality of it is far worse." He shot her a glare.

Hally looked at him, her face scrunching with a frown. "Uhh… not to be rude… but… do I know you…?"

He sighed, a weary sound that echoed in the small room. "A long time ago…" Something shifted in his eyes, and she cocked her head.

"Lenden?"

"Well… yes."

"I thought you'd definitely died."

"Wow… thanks."

She motioned towards his new body. "Well… I guess you did somewhere along the way."

"Not you though…" He clipped back to her, the glimmer within his eyes was wary.

"No."

"What are you doing here? If the Council gets wind that you're here, Rassilon will come for you himself." His face dropped with a sudden and unwelcome realisation. "Oh… no… no, do not tell me you've come here for him."

She offered him a stupid smile in response.

He shook his head and started to pace. "You're going to get yourself killed… which will probably… in turn… get me killed."

She rolled her eyes. "Still so brave, Lenden."

He huffed, shooting her another glare. "It's Vintner. Please."

Hally held up her hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Whatever. You don't have to help me. I will happily be on my way if you can tell me where he is."

He shook his head vehemently. "You won't last a day."

She pretended to check her watch. "Well, I've been here a day, so evidently I have."

He rolled his eyes, frustration etched on his face. "And where are you planning on sleeping? Or were you going to skulk about at night too? Because that won't raise any alarms at all."

Hally crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "Look, just tell me where he is and I'll go get him."

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Good luck with that."

She huffed. "So Rassilon has him then? In the cells below the city?"

Lenden gave her a dark look. "That would only be too easy… he's in the Crypt."

Her frown deepened, a chill prickling across her skin. "The Obsidian Crypt?"

He nodded, his face grave.

She swallowed hard. The Obsidian Crypt lay deep beneath the Capitol, a labyrinth of dark corridors woven with what was supposed to be Rassilon's greatest secrets. Its existence was more rumour than fact, whispered in the shadows of Gallifrey. Here, Rassilon kept his most valuable and dangerous possessions, artefacts too powerful to be entrusted to even the highest Time Lords, knowledge that could unravel time itself, and, it was said, his greatest enemies.

The Crypt was a void of blackened stone, the walls absorbing all light, leaving only the faintest glow from the prisms of security fields and temporal locks. These locks were layered not just with physical barriers but with time distortions—an intricate web of temporal displacement designed to confuse and disorient any would-be intruder. Pathways shifted, flickering in and out of existence, a labyrinth that stretched endlessly through a dimensional fold, trapping anyone who existed within.

"Right…" She let out a slow breath.

Lenden was watching her intently, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation. He huffed and moved towards the corner of his office. "Here. Change into these." He passed her purple robes with a white sash. "It'll make more sense than a Shobogan walking around like she owns the place…"

"I don't walk around like I own the place," she retorted.

"You're a High Born Gallifreyan; it's how you've always walked."

"Gee, thanks," she replied, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Come with me."

She started to follow him, then paused, her brow furrowing. "You're not… handing me in?"

He shot her a semi-tired stare. "You saved my life; let's call this even."

They left the Archive, the air between them tense as he led her swiftly through the winding corridors of the Citadel. The towering spires and gleaming walls loomed around them, their footsteps muffled by the polished floors. Hally struggled to keep up, her mind racing with questions as they wove deeper into the heart of the city, past the grand halls and toward the quieter, more secluded residential blocks of the East city. His pace never slowed, urgency in every step, until they reached a nondescript door.

"In," he ordered quietly, casting a wary glance behind them before stepping inside and quickly shutting the door. The heavy click of the lock echoed in the silence.

As she entered, the first thing that struck her was the unexpected size of his quarters. The space was larger than she'd imagined, spanning two levels. Her eyes followed the elegant spiral staircase that led to the upper floor, where she caught a glimpse of the bedroom tucked away in the shadows and the faint gleam of a washroom beyond. The ground floor was open and airy, with a modest living space furnished in the minimalist, clean lines typical of Gallifreyan design. Low, sleek furniture sat in neat arrangements, with a few personal touches scattered throughout, an old book here, a half-finished drink on the table there, suggesting this space was more lived-in than it appeared at first glance.

The room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a soft, golden glow over the walls, making the place feel somehow both inviting and distant. The quiet hum of the Citadel was faint, muffled by the thick walls.

"Is that you, Vintner? You're back early…" A female voice echoed from upstairs.

"Yes," Lenden called back, his tone light but tinged with urgency.

She could hear the woman moving around upstairs. "Did you hear about The Doctor? They're saying he's back."

Lenden hummed, a sceptical sound. "I heard… although I'm quite sure that he isn't." He gave Hally a pointed look.

"Well, they said someone had broken onto Gallifrey…" The woman moved into view and paused at the top of the stairs, her eyes falling on Hally. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Though her face had changed, her eyes darker, she still had the long blonde hair that was currently tied in a loose bun atop her head, a few fallen curls tucked behind her ears. Green robes of a healer hung around her frame.

Within seconds, Persca had practically jumped on her, wrapping her arms around Hally in a desperate hug. The impact knocked a breath from both women.

"Oh my God, you idiot," Persca exclaimed as she pulled back, shooting an incredulous look between Hally and Lenden. "Did anyone see you?"

Vintner shook his head. "I don't think so."

Persca looked to Lenden. "Why did you bring her here?"

"She was just wandering around."

Persca shot her a withering look. "Honestly." She turned and headed towards the living space, sitting down and motioning for Hally to join her. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Persca…"

"God, no one calls me that anymore. Trymanna."

"Right… yes, I remember. Sorry." Hally sat. "No… I am evidently not trying to get myself killed. I'm trying—"

"She's trying to get to him." Vintner cut in, moving to stand behind Trymanna, bracing against the back of the sofa.

Trymanna sighed. "Well, yes, obviously." She fixed her old friend with a disapproving look. "The chances of you breaking him out and getting off this planet alive are almost certainly zero."

Hally sighed, flopping back against the backrest. "Well, I'm not going back without him, so we're going to have to come up with something."

Vintner crossed his arms over his chest. "Breaking in and out of Rassilon's Crypt has never been done…" He caught the expression on her face. "…and that isn't an invitation to try and be the first."

"Okay… so I need to find a way to get Rassilon to take him out of the Crypt. Bring him somewhere more accessible." She clipped, as though the suggestion were an easy one.

Vintner laughed. "And how are we planning on doing that?"

"If Rassilon thinks The Doctor is on Gallifrey, perhaps we could use that? Bargain?" She shrugged, spit-balling.

Trymanna shook her head. "No… even if Rassilon does believe The Doctor is here, the second you try and bargain for The Master, he'll only increase security… or he might just kill him out of spite."

"If I'm honest, I'm surprised he hadn't already…"

Trymanna gave her an empathetic smile before she looked over her shoulder at Vintner, who caught her gaze for a moment.

"What?" The pair of them were looking at one another like they knew something. "What is it?"

"It isn't really anything… just… I could get down to see him. The Master." Trymanna spoke slowly, as though trying not to excite a child.

Hally's eyebrows rose. "What?"

Trymanna motioned to her green robes. "The Citadel Prison falls under my duty of care… as does the Crypt." Of course, she was a healer. "He was in a bad way when he arrived. It took us months to fix him."

"Did you? Fix him?"

Trymanna nodded. "Yes. Of course, I'm excellent at what I do." She flashed a wry smile. "Plus, there's no point in having a broken toy. Rassilon wanted him as good as new…"

A prickle ran up Hally's neck. "So you could get down there?"

"Yes, but that's it… I can't take anyone else with me, I can't get him out. I can't really do anything."

"Was he alright?"

"No. He's a bastard. As always."

Hally ran her hands through her hair, groaning. Well, at least they had something. She could get a message to him. But what good was that if she couldn't get him out?

Vintner leant against the back of the sofa behind Trymanna. "There is one way he'd bring him out of the Crypt."

Trymanna frowned before looking up at him, confused. At the look on his face, she laughed, shaking her head. "He'll never agree."

"He might if we get a message down to him first…"

Trymanna sighed, considering it. "Perhaps, but he won't believe me, and you'd also have to get her to agree to it too." She motioned towards Hally.

"Agree to what?"

Trymanna looked from Vintner to Hally. She sighed. "About a year ago, Rassilon offered The Master a deal… he would release him from the Crypt, reinstate his title, everything but…" She exhaled. "The Master had to agree to marry The President's cousin, Lady Calyx…" She cleared her throat. "Obviously… he declined, repeatedly, but… if he were to agree… then he wouldn't be in the Crypt anymore."

Hally looked at her friend. "Why would Rassilon want to marry off his cousin to The Master?"

Vintner explained, "Well… after Lord Oakdown died, The Master is technically the most senior member of his house. The old houses are barely holding it together after the war, most of them are fractured and without a proper heir, the House of Oakdown is probably going to just fall apart. Which won't look great on Rassilon."

Trymanna nodded and hummed. "He's rather fallen out of favour with most of them after his insanity during the war. The Noble Houses want stability, and Rassilon is failing to deliver. If he could secure Oakdown, then perhaps the others would fall into place…" She paused. "Plus… you know… he hates you… so… I'm sure that's quite high on his list of reasons." Her mouth curved with a sly smile.

Hally rolled her jaw. "But it'd get him out of the Crypt."

Trymanna nodded. "Yes. But the problem is going to be getting The Master to agree. He will simply assume I'm there on Rassilon's behalf to trick him. That's if we're able to speak freely at all…"

Hmm.

She was right.

The Master wasn't simply going to agree just because a healer he didn't trust told him to, he'd have to see her. But she couldn't get down there. She needed some sort of message that he would understand, without a doubt, came from her.

She looked down at her hand, the delicate silver of her wedding band glinting almost arrogantly. Slowly, she pulled it off her finger, not wanting to hand it over but not seeing another way. "What about this? Could you get this in?"

Trymanna's eyes lit up as she smiled. "Yes. Yes, I could."

Hally ran her thumb across the gentle grooves of the metal letting a familiar scent melt across it, leaving a lingering trace.

The smell after rain.

Hally swallowed, leaning forward to hand Trymanna the ring. "So… we get him to accept Rassilon's deal… and then, what? How long would it take?"

"Probably not very long, a few days? Well, with Rassilon believing The Doctor is here, perhaps even less. He'll rush it through. You can sort an official wedding in hours… then… once they're out of the Capitol, you can find him. Once Rassilon has seen his plan executed, he'll…"

"Uh…" A frown fell onto her face. "No…"

"…What?"

"He's not going to actually marry her."

Trymanna rolled her eyes. "Don't be so short-sighted. Crashing and escaping a wedding, which The President will definitely attend, is going to be far more difficult than just sneaking him away once he's out of the Capitol."

"Crashing the wedding is the only option. He's not actually marrying her." Hally's eyes flashed. "Then we'll just have to run. We'll head to the TARDIS fields."

Vintner shook his head. "No, head to the TARDIS infirmary… they'll expect you to go to the fields. No one will think you'd be stupid enough to steal a broken TARDIS."

She nodded. That could work.

This could work.

Trymanna still didn't look convinced. "Rassilon is going to expect trouble if the wedding goes ahead… he might even be waiting for The Doctor to show…"

A wry smile spread across Hally's face as a thought weaselled its way into her mind. "Then perhaps… that's exactly what we give him."

For the next few days, Hally found herself confined to their quarters, sleeping on the sofa that was far too stiff for comfort. The wait was endless, each minute dragging by with an excruciating slowness. The process had been initially a slow one, Trymanna had to formally request medical access to The Master, and it took two agonising days for the approval to come through.

Trapped in the confines of their quarters, Hally's patience wore thin. She paced the floor relentlessly, the tension gnawing at her. She couldn't risk leaving; the necessity of staying hidden was clear. But the monotony made it unbearable.

On the third day, Trymanna finally returned, stepping into the room with a slight nod, a silent confirmation. The message had been received.

The very next day, the announcement came. The wedding, a grand spectacle, was to take place in just two days. All noble houses had been invited to witness the reinstatement of House Oakdown. Trymanna and Vintner had kept word of The Doctor's return circulating, fanning the flames of speculation with whispered rumours. A supposed sighting near the Chancellor buildings had the entire Citadel buzzing, and now, they were sure the President was on high alert, convinced that The Doctor was "up to something."

The plan was set and was quite simple. She rather hoped that would work in their favour. On the morning of the wedding, Hally would… 'take out', the wedding Officiant. See, usually, noble Gallifreyan weddings were all pomp and ceremony and tradition and the great thing about the Officiant was, they were usually women and their faces were almost always covered. Ceremonial white robes. It was meant to signify something or other, she didn't really care, the important thing was, she'd be able to be there and no one else would know. The wedding would occur, but before anything important actually happened, Vintner would stride in, mysterious cloak and all, very Doctor-esque, cause a bit of a scene, during which Hally would grab The Master, blow up a few things if necessary and they'd be gone.

Easy. Peasy.

And so, on the morning of the wedding, that was where she was. The actual Officiant successfully 'removed' and safely stored away, dressing herself in the robes.

Her hearts raced unhelpfully in her chest.

There was definitely a sense of panic, but her resolute determination had stamped fervently on it.

Practically high on adrenaline and certainty.

Today.

She was going to do this.

Rescue The Master.

Her stomach flip-flopped.

There was a rather large possibility that she was going to be sick…

Taking in a deep, slow breath, Hally swallowed.

They had roughly two hours before the ceremony. Everything was in place. It was going to be totally fine.

Trymanna burst into the room, breathless, her face flushed as she grabbed Hally by the arm. "There's a wedding before the wedding," she panted, barely able to catch her breath.

"What?" Hally blinked, confusion clouding her mind.

"Rassilon... The Doctor... he's paranoid..." Trymanna gasped, clearly winded from running. "He's marrying them before the actual ceremony, just in case something goes wrong…"

Hally stared at her, realisation dawning.

"It won't really matter because—"

"They'll already be married," Hally finished on a breathless exhale.

Rassilon was practically pulling her own trick back on her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Where?"

"The Sanctum of Rassilon."

Hally cursed under her breath. The Sanctum of Rassilon would be easy enough to get into, but her element of surprise was somewhat scuppered. She'd have to walk into the already occupied room and as much as she hated to admit it, a one on one power struggle with Rassilon had never really gone her way.

Her mind raced as she paced, the Officiant's white robes swirling around her. Time was ticking away, and she had very little time to come up with a new plan.

"Where's Vintner?" she asked, spinning on her heel to face Trymanna.

"On his way."

Hally shook her head. "No… get him to be ready at the Sanctum. We can still use him as a diversion. Similar plan… new setting. But we're going to have to be fast."

Trymanna nodded, pulling a small, silver blade from the folds of her robes. "Take this. Just in case."

Hally accepted the blade, tucking it beneath the ceremonial robes, before squaring her shoulders. "You get Vintner into position. I'll handle the rest."

"Good luck…"

"…Thank you."

Hally darted down the narrow corridor, hearts racing as she navigated the darkened, twisting halls behind the Sanctum of Rassilon. The silver blade concealed beneath her robes felt cold against her skin. The Officiant's ceremonial robes clung to her, ghostly white, completely masking her identity.

Right here, right now, she was either going to free The Master or condemn them both to Rassilon's wrath.

Inwardly, she praised Time Lords proclivity for circular rooms and multiple entrances as she paused outside one of the doors to the sanctum. She pressed her back against the cool stone wall, a deep breath filling her lungs.

Focus.

She had to get in undetected, or at least barely noticeable, had to play the part long enough to strike.

From behind her, she could voices through the door.

Slipping through the hidden door, Hally stepped into the back of the Sanctum, where the light dimmed to near-blackness, shrouding everything in shadow. Dark, foreboding, with towering pillars that seemed to stretch into the void. The light was dim, casting long shadows along the stone floor, and at the centre stood Rassilon, resplendent in his ceremonial Armor, his back to her. The Master beside him, wrists bound by a thin, silver cord that shimmered ominously.

Her breath caught in her throat. There he was, just feet away. She could see him. After all this time, he was there. Right in front of her. His hair, no longer the striking ash-blonde, had grown out, returning to its natural darker shade, a little longer than it used to be. The slight stubble on his jaw adding a roughness to his sharp, familiar features. His eyes, those brilliant, burning eyes, dulled with exhaustion, like a fire smouldering under ashes. His posture was stiff, as though he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

She wanted to scream his name, run to him, tear him from those bindings. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not… yet.

Her fingers trembled beneath the ceremonial robes, her palms slick with sweat. Her hearts thumped painfully, almost loud enough to drown out sound of her breath. He hadn't seen her, hadn't even glanced in her direction, but she could not tear her eyes away from him.

It rushed within her.

The desperation.

All that time.

Here he was, in front of her.

So fucking close.

It was only a matter of time now.

Standing beside The Master was a woman— Lady Calyx. Tall and severe, her dark hair was slicked back into a tight knot, her eyes sharp and almost as black as the robes she wore. She didn't look at The Master, but stared forward with an air of indifference. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her pale skin stretched taut over her high cheekbones, giving her a cold, almost statuesque appearance.

Rassilon's voice boomed through the room, addressing the few witnesses who circled them in muted reverence. "Once this union is sealed, there will be no more threats, no more complications." His voice dripped with satisfaction.

Hally kept her head down, hands clasped as if in prayer, shifting along the edge of the wall, behind the pillars, shrouded in darkness. Hally could feel Rassilon's arrogance radiating off him, so sure that nothing and no one could touch him here. His downfall, she hoped. She shifted until she was as close to the trio as she could be without being seen and then, she waited.

As one of the witnesses brought forth the ceremony register, the grand doors at the opposite end of the chamber swung open with a loud bang, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

A cloaked figure strode in, his silhouette cutting an imposing figure as the dim light caught the edge of his long coat. "Rassilon!" the figure bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber.

Hally felt the rush of adrenaline. Vintner. Rassilon's eyes snapped toward the intruder, confusion and fury contorting his face.

"Doctor!" Rassilon spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

Hally's face split into a grin. Oh, exploiting that man's paranoia was too easy.

"Seize him!"

Rassilon's guards moved away from the centre of the room, away from Rassilon and towards The Doctor.

Vintner moved forward with theatrical flair, cloak billowing behind him. "Oh, be my guest." He grinned, the bottom half of his face visible under the cloak, hands outstretched in mock surrender. The guards hesitated, uncertain whether to approach him or stay at their post.

Rassilon gestured sharply to the guards. "I said, seize him!"

Vintner took a threatening step forward and to her delight, Rassilon took a step back. Still facing away from her. But now, closer to her than Calyx and The Master.

With a sharp breath, Hally moved. In a single, fluid motion, she pulled the silver blade from her robes and stepped up behind Rassilon, the tip of the blade slid between the plates of his ceremonial armour and she plunged it up, deep between his ribs.

"It's not The Doctor you should be worried about." She twisted the knife violently. He cried out in pain, a harsh, guttural sound, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He pulled himself away from her, the blade tearing from his flesh with a sickening sound, still gripped tightly in her hand.

Rassilon staggered, gasping as he turned towards her, his eyes wide with shock and fury. Blood blossomed across the dark fabric of his robes, spreading like a dark stain as he stumbled forward, clutching at the wound. His expression twisted, and before she could react, Hally felt a force slam into her mind, an overwhelming, suffocating pressure. The attack was sharp, brutal, like claws digging into the crevices of her mind. She gasped, stumbling back as her vision swam, her throat tightening as if invisible hands were crushing it.

Rassilon's hand shot out, gripping her by the throat, his face a mask of rage. He squeezed hard, cutting off her air, and in one vicious motion, tore the cover from her face.

"You—" His voice was a rasp, wild rage a storm behind his eyes.

"Hi," Hally managed to choke out through the pressure on her throat.

She didn't hesitate. Hesitation would have resulted in her death, surely. With her free hand, she brought the blade up to his throat, slicing it open in one swift, brutal motion. The knife cut through flesh easily, and blood sprayed from the wound, splattering across her face and robes, the red stark against the pristine white.

The room exploded into chaos. Rassilon's body convulsed, gurgling as blood poured from his neck, soaking the floor beneath him. His grip on her fell as he crumpled, his knees buckled. The guards froze, their eyes darting between Hally and their dying President, unsure whether to attack or retreat.

Lady Calyx took a single step back, her face still rather impassive.

Vintner's distraction paid off as the guards hesitated just long enough for Hally to reach The Master. She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the silver restraints with a sharp tug.

His gaze flickered across her face, taking in the sight of her, drenched in blood and breathing heavily.

"You have truly outdone yourself." His voice dropped into a drawl, rough, a playful glint in his eyes as he took in her blood-streaked appearance.

"Not the time, Master. Move!" Hally snapped, yanking him towards the back of the room.

Behind them, Rassilon's body twitched on the floor, blood pooling around him. His regeneration energy sparked weakly.

The guards finally snapped out of their hesitation, rushing toward them, but Hally was faster. She shoved open door she'd come through, dragging The Master through it as they fled the Sanctum.

They ran.

Initially, she dragged him towards the TARDIS fields before she violently pulled them into an alcove, waiting for the guards to move past them, before they doubled back towards the TARDIS infirmary to confuse the guards.

"Look at you with an actual plan." Her husband cooed.

Her hearts were still beating furiously, the noise pounding in her ears. "Yes. I missed you too." She clipped back sarcastically, peeking out into the corridor to check the coast was clear.

His hand grabbed at her neck and pulled her back into the alcove, holding her still as the rear guard ran past them. "Oh, sweetheart, don't even get me started."

For a moment, her eyes locked with his, and a rush of warmth peppered her chest, a fleeting intense connection. He was right there. In front of her. Inches away.

But they weren't safe yet.

Glancing over her shoulder, she pulled them both back into the corridor, urgency driving them forward. Doubling back towards the TARDIS infirmary, but as they turned the corner, the pair skidded to a halt. The corridor ahead was blocked, a jumbled mess of debris and construction equipment. A dead end.

"Service vents." He clipped. "They'll lead to the infirmary; they pump in gases for circulation." His voice was calm and assured, a stark contrast to the complete meltdown she was about to have. He motioned to their right, to the vent hatch.

"Get inside," he urged sharply, and without hesitation, she removed the hatch and crawled into the narrow opening of the vent. The space was cramped, the metal walls cool against her skin as she crawled through. He followed closely behind. The vents ran just above the floor, tight but with just enough space that when they reached a T-junction, The Master slipped up beside her, trapping her to him before she could veer off to the right.

He pressed his chest against her back, completely invading her space. The warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold metal underneath her. She shifted, trying to shift forward, to continue, but before she could move away, his hand pressed against her abdomen, pulling her back to him. His teeth grazed the mark on her shoulder. A jolt of electricity shot through her—not unpleasantly, but with a startling intensity. He held her back against him, grounding her in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

"You were pregnant..." His voice was low, soft, carrying an undercurrent that sent a shiver down her spine.

She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Koschei… now isn't the time to catch up. Later… okay?"

"Now," he insisted softly, but with a tone that she could not argue with. "You're not pregnant anymore." The words hung in the air, charged with meaning, pulling her back to the moment.

She shifted until she faced him, their bodies awkwardly propped up on their sides in the confined space. "Yes, that does tend to happen," she replied, her tone teasing but tinged with seriousness.

In that moment, something shifted in his expression—worry, fear, and concern played across his features, and it struck her what he truly meant. "No… no, Koschei, she's fine," she reassured him, sensing the tension that had settled around them.

His eyebrows shot up, a mixture of hope and disbelief. "She is?"

Hally nodded, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I promise, she's okay." A smile broke through her own anxiety, and she watched as relief flooded his face, mixed with something deeper—pride, happiness, something completely peaceful.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"She's at home, on Earth. If you let us get a move on, I'll take you to her." Her lips curved with a coy, teasing smile.

"Hurry up, then," he purred, his impatience bubbling over into eagerness.

Rolling her eyes and smiling, Hally shifted again, leading them toward the vent grate that would take them into the TARDIS infirmary. They slowed as they approached, the sound of voices drifting in from the other side. Guards were stationed within, their footsteps echoing ominously.

The Master's elbow jostled her ribs as he climbed over her for a better look through the grate. She huffed, sliding onto her back to make room, grunting when his knee pressed into her shin.

He covered her mouth with a hand, missing the petulant glare she was shooting his way as his eyes scanned the area beyond the grate. The voices of guards drifted in, their conversation punctuated by the scuff of boots against the floor.

Hally swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming in her throat. They were so close and yet so close to being found. The weight of The Master above her pinned her against the cold of the metal vent, the adrenaline still burning through her veins seemed to somewhat temper with the immediate, very real, very intense awareness of him. She shifted, trying pathetically to find a way to move her body away from the heat of his. However, all that ended up doing was brushing her hip up against him, slamming into her the realisation that he was unmistakably hard.

A low, predatory chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against her. His eyes gleamed in the dim light as he glanced down at her, his lips curving into a smirk.

"This is—" She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

"Perfectly acceptable," he interrupted, the teasing lilt in his voice accompanying the deliberate roll of his hips against hers, the pressure sending a desperate wave of heat through her.

"There is something seriously wrong with us…" She managed to exhale, the words coming out in a breathless rush.

"Darling," he murmured, his voice low and rich as it washed over her skin, "you're covered in blood, and I just watched you murder The President. What sort of reaction were you expecting?"

She let out a shaky breath, a quiet, disbelieving laugh escaping her before it melted into a soft groan as he pressed closer, the hardness between his legs pressing perfectly against the heat between her thighs. Her skin prickled with a maddening mix of desire and adrenaline, every nerve alight with the intense burn of his touch.

Then his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding. The kiss was all hunger, teeth and lips claiming her with all the unyielding force of a tsunami. Heat surged between them as clothes were hastily adjusted. Her fingers gripped at his robes, fumbling to find a way to free him. Luckily, luckily, the ridiculous robes they were wearing were weirdly easy to push aside. His fingers spread through the slickness between her legs with a smug chuckle. "Oh darling, you can pretend this is all me… but you're utterly soaking."

"Shut up." She growled into his ear, shoving her hand between them to guide him inside her. The Master wasn't gentle, burying himself inside her with a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her back arched involuntarily, the sharp sensation of his stretching her sending a gasp to her lips. He was quick to stifle the sound. "Shh," he cooed, covering her mouth with his hand, his lips coming to ravage her neck, his free hand gripped hers, pressing it down against the metal, fingers entwined. His first few thrusts were deliberately and mercifully slow, easing the sharp string with each calculated movement of his hips. At her moan, muffled against his hand he grunted, pressing inside her with increasing urgency. His knee knocked hers out wider, her leg pressed against the unyielding wall of the vent. Her fingers squeezed his hand hard as he drove into her, the mix of pleasure and pain spiralling together until they were perhaps one and the same. The air was thick with the sound of their breathing, heavy and desperate.

His body pressed relentlessly against hers, his hips grinding harder, deeper. Each stroke sent shudders of heat pooling between her legs. A delicious mix of urgency and hunger that sent sparks of pleasure coursing through her body. He filled her completely, the pressure building with every frantic rock of his hips, she could feel the familiar tightness in her core, building.

Her head pressed back against the cold metal, her breaths coming faster, each one a poorly contained moan as his rhythm pushed her closer to the edge.

"Hate to say it, but…" he panted between thrusts, his voice rough, "this… isn't… going… to last… very long…"

"Please…" Her mind reached out, desperately clawed on the outskirts of his. "Harder, please… please…"

The thought had barely crossed her mind before he complied, his hand tightening around hers as he drove into her. He grunted low in his chest, the sound a primal grown as he slammed into her, his breath hot against her face. His grip on her hand, hurt. A breathless whimper caught behind his hand as the burning heat spread through her. He took her ruthlessly, each press of his hips heavy and punishing, a beautiful torment that had her uselessly gasping for breath against his unrelenting palm. Pleasure surged down her spine, a tide of ecstasy tightening her around him.

The pleasure built rapidly, a white-hot coil in her belly, threatening to snap. She could feel him trembling above her, the strain in his muscles as he pushed them both towards the inevitable.

The sensation flooded her.

Her body tensed, a sharp cry muffled against his hand as her release tore through her. Every nerve burned, pleasure radiating out from her core in waves that left her shaking beneath him. He followed seconds later, his body shuddering as he buried himself inside her, his release a raw, guttural sound that echoed in the cramped space.

His hand released her mouth, moving to rest against the top of her head and for a moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing. Silence outside. The guards are gone, at least.

He shifted above her, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips, his eyes gleaming with the familiar mischief. "That's better…" He murmured. "Now I can concentrate on getting us out of here."

Hally let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head as she locked onto his gaze. "No, this was all me, don't you dare start taking any credit."

He hummed with satisfied amusement. "Oh, that reminds me…" He shifted, removing himself from her and readjusting his robes, shifting around in his pockets for a few moments before he brought his hands back up. "Hand." He was looking towards her left hand so that was the one she brought up. He shifted and slipped her wedding ring back onto her ring finger. "Don't take it off again." He warned darkly.

"I took it off to save you, you prick."

"I know." He leant down, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth.

"I'm sorry it took me so long…" He responded with another kiss, longer this time, when he pulled away she exhaled slowly. "And I'm sorry… I'm just… I'm sorry…"

He seemed to know what she was referring to, understanding glimmering behind his eyes. He shut her up with a long passionate kiss that nearly had them remaining in the vent, even longer.

He pulled back eventually, gaze shifting up, through the grate. "Guards are gone. Out."

She wriggled out from under him, pushing the grate aside and crawling out into the open air. As she readjusted her robes, she winced; she was still covered in blood. God knew the complete state she was in, however The Master still managed to give her an appreciative once over as he emerged from the vent. A small, coy smile played on his lips.

"TARDIS?" he motioned toward one nearby, and she nodded.

The question in his eyes prompted her to elaborate. "There's a weak point, a crack—we can slip through." She turned to walk toward the TARDIS when, suddenly, the opposite wall split open with a ragged ripping sound, the jagged fissure glowing ominously before her eyes. The Master's eyebrows twitched upwards as he turned to look at it, intrigue dancing across his features.

She swallowed hard. "It was… it was in the Panopticon…"

"And now it's here…?" he pressed, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Help him…" The urgency of Clara's voice echoed through the gaping tear.

"Clara?" She approached the crack slowly.

"Hally…? Is that you? Is it?" Clara's voice cracked with emotion.

"Yeah… Clara, it's me?" she called back, anxiety creeping into her voice.

"He's going to die… if we don't help him."

Hally felt her stomach drop, the cold ice of dread filling her veins. "Clara… calm down, I've been gone a week." She scoffed a laugh, tension tightening the sound.

"No… no, it's been nine-hundred years. This place, Christmas, the Daleks are coming, it's war… The Doctor stayed, to protect them, to protect you."

"… What?"

The Master moved closer to the fissure, running his fingertips across the surface of it. "It's not a clean break… time won't move the same way on either side…"

"Okay… okay… just give us a second, we'll get the TARDIS and—"

"A TARDIS can't land… Hally, you need to come back through."

She let out a soft huff, straightening up and looking at The Master, determination hardening her resolve. "Then we'll go through here. Save The Doctor, take his TARDIS home."

He grumbled but reluctantly agreed. "Fine."

"Is that him? Hally? Did you find him?" Clara's voice trembled.

"Yes. Clara, we'll come back through."

"You can't bring anyone back with you…"

"Why?"

"If any Time Lords come through… the breach will open, and it'll be war. That's what they said…"

"But you want me to come through."

The Master looked at her. "You existed on the other side, you going back through would only rebalance each universe."

Hally scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm not going without you."

"Hally, please. We have to do something. Anything."

"No. Clara. I don't have to do anything. I am going to get on this TARDIS and go home."

"He has no regenerations left. Hally, he'll be gone. Properly. Really gone. This is it. This is Trenzalore."

She swallowed hard, shaking her head as tears pricked at her eyes. "No. No, no, no, this can't be down to me, Clara."

"River said…" Clara's voice was desperate. "She told me, yes! She told me to remind you, to remind you of something important when we spoke through the crack in the universe… she said she told you, 'One day, he might need you more than ever and you'll have a choice. An impossible choice. But he can't stand alone.'"

"Well, why doesn't she save him then?!" Her voice cracked as she shouted, smacking her hand angrily against the wall. The Master pulled her away, gathering her against him.

"I'm not… I'm not going to leave you again… stop it. Stop looking at me like that. I refuse. I'm not going." She growled up at him.

"The Doctor will die."

Water slipped from the corner of her eyes, she dropped her head against his chest. "He has no more regenerations; he'll die anyway…"

The Master pushed her back slightly, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. "Then you give him this…" He pressed his hand against her chest, a warmth radiating from his palm, energy, life moving from him into her.

"No… stop it…" She wriggled slightly, but he steadied her with his other hand on the back of her neck. "Stop it, you need those."

"Oh, no. I've got a new set. Courtesy of Rassilon not wanting me to die before he'd had his fill of tormenting me." His face split into a pained grin.

"I am not leaving you here."

He smiled softly. "No. We're both leaving. Me in the TARDIS and you, through that…" He motioned back with his head toward the crack.

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt.

"I will meet you at home…" He gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise." He kissed her forehead, wiping the tears from her face gently. "But please do remind him… that's twice I've saved his life now." With a wink, he backed into the TARDIS, locking the door behind him.

He had taken her choice away from her.

She watched him go, anger boiling within her as she felt the regeneration energy he'd given her burning inside her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the crack. This time, there was no long white gap; she stepped directly into the bell tower.

Clara looked at her, taking in the blood on her robes and the tears streaking her face. "Thank you…"

"Where is he?" Hally demanded, anger lacing her tone.

Clara moved quickly, pointing outside. "Up there." She gestured to the top of the tower.

Hally could hear the Dalek ship in the distance, the ominous thrumming filling her with dread. She couldn't hear what The Doctor was saying, but she ran anyway, bounding up the stairs.

"You are dying, Doctor." The Dalek's voice resonated down towards her. "You will die, and the Time Lords will never return."

She sprinted, urgency fuelling her as she climbed the steps. As she reached the top, the Dalek's voice boomed again.

"You will die now, Doctor. This is the end of you."

"Actually, you're all wrong," Hally interjected, stepping into view.

The Doctor turned to face her, and her hearts clenched at the sight. He looked ancient, the weight of the nine hundred extra years evident in the deep lines etched across his face. He leaned heavily on a stick, his body frail and worn.

"You came back…" he breathed, disbelief colouring his tone.

"Present," she replied sharply, shoving her hand against his chest. "From The Master." She felt the surge of regenerations flow into him, and his eyes widened in shock. A laugh escaped him, light and disbelieving. "You're welcome." She clipped.

She turned her gaze skyward, scanning the horizon filled with Dalek ships.

"The Doctor will die. It is known."

With a determined clap of her hands, she extended her arms, a fierce resolve taking hold. "I shall be killing all the Daleks now, Dad. Please reserve any complaints until afterwards. I suggest you duck."

Her hearts thudded painfully in her chest, each beat reverberating with the pressure she was forcing inside herself. Her entire being pulsed with energy, her twin hearts swelling under the weight of it. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, feeling the raw, uncontrollable power flood through her veins like liquid fire.

Drawing it all inward, she harnessed every ounce of pain, anger, and determination. Her hands began to tremble as the energy coalesced, the air around her crackling with electricity. It was like holding a storm inside her, a maelstrom begging to be released. She let out a shuddering breath, feeling the strain stretch her to her limits, then stretched her arms wide.

In a single, explosive moment, she unleashed the blast.

The force tore outward from her like a tidal wave of pure destruction, the shockwave radiating in all directions. The ground trembled beneath her feet as the energy rolled across the planet's surface, disintegrating every Dalek in its path. A deafening roar filled the air, the sound of devastation and annihilation as every Dalek in the sky and on the ground was consumed by the blast. Ships disintegrated in brilliant bursts of light, metallic bodies shattering like brittle glass before being swallowed by the inferno of energy.

The sky itself seemed to ripple with the force of it, darkening as the energy surged upward, erasing the Dalek fleet in an instant. Where there had once been legions of the deadly creatures, there was now only silence, the echo of their destruction fading into the vastness of the universe.

Hally stood at the centre of it all, breathing heavily, her arms still outstretched. Her body hummed with the aftershock, her hearts aching in the aftermath. She swayed slightly, dizzy with the effort, but the sight of the empty sky brought her a sense of grim satisfaction.

The Daleks were gone.

When the chaos subsided, she helped The Doctor to his feet. His fingertips glowed faintly, a gentle reminder that they didn't have much time. Together, they stumbled down the stairs, her strength waning but his guiding her toward the TARDIS. "You came back for me…" he murmured, a mixture of awe and gratitude in his voice.

"Yes. Couldn't have you dying on me," she replied, her tone light, masking the complete devastation of it all.

"You weren't supposed to come back…"

"Well, I did."

"I'm sorry… for what it cost… I'm sorry." The weight of his words hung heavy between them.

"It's alright," she said, sighing. "Just don't ruin Christmas like this again." She attempted a smile, and he chuckled softly.

"Hal…"

"Yes?" She continued guiding him into the TARDIS.

"Why are you covered in blood?"

"Why are you so old?" she shot back, half-teasing.

As they entered the TARDIS, she noticed his body shimmering. To her surprise, she noticed the ship had laid out his old clothes, similar clothes to the ones he'd been wearing when he'd arrived on this planet. "Ah, yes. Yes. That'll be better." He shrugged off his jacket, and she helped him out of it.

She looked away as she changed turning back just in time to see him hum with delight. "Ah, that's better."

He had reverted to the man she remembered. "Resetting," he said with a nod. "Whose blood is it?" he asked, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.

A wry smile crossed her lips, but she couldn't meet his gaze. "Rassilon's."

He hummed, nodding slowly. "Well, I'll tell you off later. Go wash it off. Quickly."

"Right." She obeyed, heading into her bedroom, she peeled off the white robes and stepped into the shower. Rassilon's blood washed away easily, but the heaviness clung to her. She wasn't going to cry… not yet. She could hold it together for now. At least until she was home. She silently prayed The Master would be waiting for her.

After drying off, she quickly threw on some clothes and returned to the console room. The place was a mess, with The Doctor's clothes strewn about, a bowl of fish fingers and custard left in semi-finished disarray. Just then, the door swung open, and Clara stepped in. The two women exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them, before The Doctor's footsteps drew their attention.

Her bow-tied young Doctor stepped into view, his face lighting up with a smile.

"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, her voice brimming with relief.

"Hello," he replied, grinning.

"You're young again. You're okay. You didn't even change your face."

"Ha! It's started. I can't stop it now. This is just the reset. A couple of fancy new regenerations." He shot Clara a cheeky grin.

As he finished the last of his custard, he added, "Taking a bit longer. Just breaking it in. Oh. Oh. Gah." He initiated the TARDIS engines, the familiar hum filling the air.

"It all just disappears, doesn't it?" he mused, his voice softening. "Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a-coming." He cupped Hally's face gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and she felt his gratitude echo in her mind. "Thank you."

"I love you."

"Who's coming?" Clara asked, eyes wide.

"The Doctor."

"But you, you are The Doctor."

"Yep, and I always will be."

As he spoke, his hands began to glow.

The Doctor stood before them, his voice soft yet filled with a deep, underlying acceptance. "But times change, and so must I."

His eyes shifted, and for a brief moment, they filled with wonder as he gazed toward the staircase. Hally followed his line of sight, though there was nothing there—nothing she could see. The Doctor's gaze softened with a rare, almost childlike affection.

"Amelia?" he breathed.

Clara glanced at him in confusion. "Who's Amelia?"

"The first face this face saw." His voice was distant, wrapped in a nostalgic warmth. But then his expression shifted, becoming more pensive, contemplative. "We all change, when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives. And that's okay… that's good. You've got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be."

His gaze sharpened, his eyes landing on Hally and Clara. There was a weight in his words, a gravity that seemed to fill the room with an unspoken promise. "I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when The Doctor was me."

A long, soft breath escaped his lips as if he were trying to hold onto the moment just a little longer. His hand lifted, fingers brushing the air, as though he were reaching for something they couldn't see, some thread of time or memory slipping away. Slowly, with great care, he undid his bow tie, letting it fall to the floor. His face twisted in pain.

Clara's voice broke through the stillness, thick with emotion. "No, no…"

The Doctor turned to her, trying to soothe her with a soft "Hey…"

"Please don't change," she pleaded, desperation edging her voice.

Hally gently pulled Clara back, her hand steady on the woman's arm.

The Doctor's body jerked violently, his posture folding forward as the regeneration struck him with brutal force. It wasn't like the slow, graceful change of before. This was something raw, something sudden. His form shifted in an instant, his youthful face disappearing, replaced with someone older, taller, grey hair framing sharp, piercing blue eyes that seemed to burn with intensity. His new body jerked again as if adjusting to itself, the regeneration still settling.

"Kidneys!" he exclaimed, a wild expression of confusion and surprise crossing his new face. "I've got new kidneys. I don't like the colour..." He drawled.

Clara blinked. "Of your kidneys?"

Before they could process anything, the TARDIS lurched violently, sending them staggering as the entire ship began to rock from side to side.

Clara, still reeling, shouted, "What's happening?"

The Doctor, unbothered by the chaos around him, only grinned. "We're probably crashing."

Clara's panic spiked. "Into what?"

With that same unsettling calm, he answered, gaze flicking between the two of them. "Stay calm. Just one question. Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"