Chapter Eleven: Rise of the Cybermen
[TARDIS Console Room]
"And that weird munchkin lady with the big eyes? Do you remember? The way she looked at you! And then she opens her mouth, and fire comes out!" the Doctor laughs, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounts the memory.
Rose grins, giggling, "I thought I was going to get frazzled!"
"Yeah. One minute she's standing there, and the next minute—roar!" he exclaims, throwing his hands around for emphasis.
Mickey, nodding along, asks, "Yeah. Where was that, then? What happened?"
"Oh, it was on this, uh, this planet thing. Asteroid. It's a long story—you had to be there," the Doctor replies, waving him off with a casual flick of his hand.
"No, you didn't. I was there and can tell you exactly what they looked like. Boohbahs. Fire-breathing Boohbahs. Sounded like them too," the Alchemist chimes in as she enters the room; she turns to their companion, eyes narrowing on him, "Mickey, what're you doing that for?"
Mickey frowns, "Because the Doctor told me to."
The Time Lady pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing, "When was that?"
"About half an hour ago," Mickey replies flatly.
The Alchemist shoots a sharp look at her Bondmate, clearly unimpressed.
"Uhm… you can let go now," the Doctor mumbles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.
Mickey glares at him, slowly releasing the button he's been holding, "Well, how long's it been since I could've stopped?"
"Ten minutes? Twenty? Twenty-nine?" the Doctor offers, wincing slightly.
"You just forgot me!" Mickey shouts, his frustration bubbling over.
'This needs to stop, Theta Sigma,' the Alchemist says silently, her eyes locking onto the Time Lord's.
The Doctor winces at the use of his full Academy name, "No, no, no! I was just… calibrating! I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Do you?" the Alchemist asks, stepping closer, her gaze challenging.
The Time Rotor erupts with a deafening crack, shockwaves tearing through the room and hurling everyone to the floor. The TARDIS groans in protest, its walls shuddering as though caught in the throes of anguish.
The Alchemist gasps, her body stiffening as she instinctively shields her empathic field, protecting her Bondmate. The strain slams into her like a physical blow, and she collapses, trembling violently. Pain twists her features, but she remains silent—she's endured worse. Far worse.
Rose's panicked voice cuts through the chaos, "What's happened?"
"The Time Vortex is gone," the Doctor responds, his voice cracking with disbelief, "That's impossible… It's just—gone! Brace yourselves! We're going to crash!"
The TARDIS lurches to an abrupt halt, the jarring stillness almost more disorienting than the chaos before it. Gas masks tumble from the ceiling, and the room plunges into darkness, lit only by the erratic flicker of failing controls.
"Everyone all right? Ally? Rose? Mickey?" The Doctor scrambles to his feet, his eyes darting nervously around the dimly lit room.
Still catching his breath, Mickey stammers, "I'm fine. I'm okay. Sorry. Yeah."
The Doctor's gaze lands on the console, his voice hollow, "She's dead. The TARDIS is dead."
"You can fix it, right?" Rose asks, desperation edging her tone.
"There's nothing to fix. She's gone. The last TARDIS in the universe… extinct." The Doctor replies, his words sinking in like a lead weight; he stumbles, turning sharply, "Ally, why can't I feel…?" his voice falters as he spots her, "Alchemist!"
The Time Lord rushes to her side, dropping to his knees. His hands tremble as he touches her clammy forehead. Her body shudders, sweat beading as she battles the waves of agony threatening to overwhelm her.
"Alchemist, talk to me! What's wrong?" he pleads.
She groans, her body twisting in agony, "They're gone... all gone…" her breath is ragged, her words strained, "It… it hurts. I'm trying… trying to block what they left."
Tears streak her face, unnoticed as she pushes through the pain. Trembling hands press against the floor as she tries to rise, her body swaying precariously.
The Doctor steadies her, "Ally, no. No, no, no… Lay back down. Please."
"I have to… stop it," she whispers, each word trembling with effort, "The TARDIS, the Vortex… they're leaving holes. I can't close them fast enough."
The Doctor brushes a tear from her cheek, "Ally, you don't have to do this alone. Open the bond again—let me help."
Her head tilts back, grimacing at the suggestion.
"You can't handle this!" she snaps through clenched teeth, her breath ragged.
"Oh, Ally, I'm so sorry," the Doctor murmurs, voice heavy with guilt.
Even with her efforts to shield him, he can feel the remnants of her agony from before she closed the bond. Just seeing her physical reaction is enough to break his hearts.
Across the room, Rose calls out, "We can get help, yeah? Get Ally help somewhere?"
Mickey approaches hesitantly, "Ally, are you okay? Hanging in there?"
She gives a stiff nod, her body quaking.
"I'll be fine," she whispers, though her pallor betrays her.
Rose attempts a reassuring smile, "Good. Just rest, yeah? The Doctor will figure this out," she glances around the dim Console Room, "There's got to be help somewhere," she looks toward the doors, "We've landed, haven't we? There's got to be something out there."
"We fell out of the Vortex," the Doctor says quietly, his focus still on his Bondmate, "Through the Void… into nothingness. We're in no place. The silent realm. The lost dimension. There is no help."
The Alchemist swallows hard, steadying her breath despite the strain.
"I'll be fine," she repeats, softer but resolute, "We have to be somewhere. Go check. Just… help me up first."
The Doctor hesitates but finally takes her hand, his grip firm yet careful. She wavers as she stands, determination etched into her features. Slowly, she lets the bond open, a faint pulse of resilience flowing toward him. He guides her to the jumpseat, easing her into its worn cushions.
Mickey approaches the TARDIS doors, curiosity getting the better of him. He pulls one open and peers outside. After a moment, his shoulders relax, and he lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"The lost dimension… otherwise known as London," he announces with a smirk.
The Doctor glances at the door, brow furrowing in surprise, but his concern quickly returns to the Alchemist. She offers him a tired yet reassuring smile.
"Go on," the Time Lady murmurs, "Check it out. I'll sit here for a bit."
"You sure?" he asks, his hesitation evident.
She nods, her gaze steady despite her exhaustion. It's not a promise that she's entirely okay, but it's enough for now. Reluctantly, he squeezes her hand and heads for the door to join Mickey.
As his footsteps fade, the Alchemist leans back, releasing the tension in her body. Her breaths come slow and deliberate as she turns her focus inward, mending the unseen fractures echoing through her bonds to the TARDIS and the Vortex.
[Lambeth Pier]
Mickey steps out into the crisp London air, a wide grin spreading across his face as he takes in the familiar sights.
"London, England, Earth," he announces with satisfaction; his gaze catches a newspaper on a nearby bench, and he picks it up, briefly scanning the front page, "Hold on... First of February this year? Not exactly far-flung, is it?"
The Doctor steps beside him, hands tucked into his coat pockets, a faint smile on his lips.
"So this is London," he says, his tone laced with quiet amusement.
"Yep," Mickey replies.
"Your city."
"That's the one."
"Just as we left it."
"Bang on."
The Doctor's attention shifts upward, his expression darkening as he points toward the sky, "And that includes the Zeppelins?"
Mickey's eyes follow the Doctor's gesture, and his jaw drops as he takes in the sight above them.
"What the hell?" he gasps.
The sky is alive with enormous airships, their bulky silhouettes drifting silently among the clouds. Their shadows stretch over the city like specters, transforming the familiar London skyline into something unseen since before WWII.
Rose steps forward, her eyes wide with wonder.
"That's... beautiful," she murmurs, her voice laced with awe.
Still trying to process the scene, Mickey shrugs, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy.
"Okay, so it's London with a big international Zeppelin festival," he suggests.
The Doctor turns to him, tone and expression grave, "This is not your world."
"But if the date's the same, it's a parallel, right? Am I right? Like a parallel Earth where they've got Zeppelins. Am I right? I'm right, aren't I?"
"Must be," the Time Lord mutters.
Rose isn't listening. Her attention has shifted, her heart skipping as she spots a glowing advertisement. The bright billboard showcases a man with a confident smile, holding a bottle of Vitex Lite, cherry flavor. Her breath catches in her throat. It's Pete Tyler—her father. Alive and well in this world.
"So, a parallel world where..." Rose's words falter as she stares at his familiar face, frozen in time.
Unaware of the storm brewing inside her, Mickey continues, excited, "Oh, come on. You've seen it in films. Like an alternate version of our world where everything's the same but just a little bit different. Like, I don't know, traffic lights are blue, Tony Blair never got elected."
Rose is trembling, her voice a whisper, "And he's still alive."
Her steps are slow and hesitant as she moves closer to the billboard. Her gaze is locked on Pete's face, and her fingers tremble as she reaches out, almost unconsciously, to touch the image.
She swallows hard, whispering, "A parallel world... and my dad's still alive."
The Doctor's voice cuts through, "Don't look at it, Rose. Don't even think about it. This is not your world."
His words are firm, but she's already too far gone. Her fingertips brush against the advertisement's surface, and the display flickers to life.
Pete's voice fills the air—warm, confident: "Trust me on this."
Rose's frown deepens, "Well, that's weird... but he's real."
There's disbelief in her voice, but beneath it, a fragile thread of hope stirs—one she can't entirely dismiss. Deep down, she knows this isn't her father, but the ache in her chest refuses to quiet.
The hologram continues, its words looping: "Trust me on this. Trust me on this. Trust me on this."
Her voice shakes, "He's a success. He was always planning these daft little schemes… health food, drinks, and stuff. Everyone said they were useless. But he did it."
The Doctor steps closer, his voice firm, "Rose, if you've ever trusted me, then listen to me now. Stop looking at it," he stares right into her eyes, "Your father's dead. He died when you were six months old. That is not your Pete. That is a Pete," his expression softens, but still urgent, "For all we know, he's got his own Jackie, his own Rose. His own daughter who is someone else—but not you. You can't see him. Not ever..."
The hologram glitches, Pete's voice looping repeatedly: "Trust me on this. Trust me on this. Trust me on this."
Rose stares at it, her heart torn between the impossible and the undeniable.
With a swift flick of his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor aims it at the glowing advertisement. A sharp buzz fills the air as the screen flickers, then goes dark. The vibrant image of Pete Tyler vanishes, leaving nothing but the empty space where he once stood.
"Make sure she doesn't go anywhere, Mickey," the Doctor says, his voice clipped and tense.
He doesn't look at Rose as he speaks, his eyes already scanning the street. Then, without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel and strides away back into the TARDIS.
Mickey glances at Rose, his carefree expression replaced with genuine concern. Her face is a storm of emotions—grief, disbelief, and an aching longing that Mickey doesn't know how to ease, one he knows all too well.
He moves closer, his voice soft but steady, "Hey, we'll get through this, yeah? Just take a breath."
Rose doesn't respond, her gaze fixed on the blank billboard. Her thoughts swirl caught between memories and possibilities that refuse to settle.
[TARDIS]
The Doctor pulls a small bottle of water from his coat pocket, turning to his Bondmate with concern.
"How are you holding up?" he asks softly.
She takes the bottle with a slight shrug, "I've been worse."
"Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I'll take it," he replies, his sharp eyes scanning her face for any deeper signs of discomfort; he nods toward the console, "Can you sense anything off of her?"
The Alchemist exhales slowly, unscrewing the cap to take a small sip before setting the bottle aside. She closes her eyes, focusing inward as she reaches for the residual connection to the Vortex. Her eyes begin to shimmer faintly, glowing like distant stars.
The Doctor watches her intently, and despite the gravity of the situation, a faint smile crosses his face. Seeing her eyes like this has always left him awed; it's how they Met Eyes, after all. Looking into the cosmos in her shimmering orbs, he fell in love.
"Help me up. I'll check if there's any power anywhere," she says, her voice steady.
Without hesitation, the Doctor moves to her side, offering his arm and helping her to her feet. She steadies herself, then places her hands on the console's cold surface, her fingertips brushing across the dormant controls as if she could coax them back to life. Her brow furrows in concentration, her connection searching for even the faintest flicker of energy.
Mickey strides into the console room, breaking the silence. The Doctor's expression darkens as soon as he spots him.
"I told you to keep an eye on her," he says, his tone sharp.
Mickey shrugs nonchalantly, "She's alright."
"She goes wandering off," the Doctor glares, "Parallel world—it's like a gingerbread house. All those temptations calling out."
Mickey scoffs, crossing his arms, "Oh, so it's just Rose, then? Nothing out there to tempt me?"
The Alchemist stays silent, her focus unbroken as her hands glide over the console. Her frown deepens, though she doesn't engage in their bickering.
"Well, I don't know!" the Doctor snaps, his frustration bubbling over, "I can't worry about everything. If I could just get this thing to…"
His words cut off as he kicks the console in a fit of irritation. The moment his foot connects, regret flashes across his face, hopping on one foot.
"Did that help?" Mickey asks, amusement clear in his tone.
"Yes," the Doctor mutters through clenched teeth.
"Did that hurt?"
"Yes... Ow."
From the console, the Alchemist speaks up, irritation clear, "It also hurt me, so maybe don't do that—and also, don't hurt our currently dead Time Machine? I know you're cross, but please, no force this time," her tone softens slightly as she adds, "And for the record, there's plenty here to tempt Mickey. I'd smack you if I wasn't busy right now."
The Doctor glances at her, suitably chastened. He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as he watches her, his frustration easing from her calm determination.
"Sorry, Ally. But... we're not meant to be here," the Doctor sighs, "The TARDIS draws its power from the universe, but this—this is the wrong universe."
"I know, love," the Alchemist replies, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, "I'm well-versed in the intricacies of trans-dimensional travel, thank you very much," she turns to Mickey, "Think of it like putting diesel in a petrol engine. Wrong fuel. But if we can find anything, I might be able to give us just enough juice to get home."
Mickey scrunches his brows, "But I've seen it in comics. People go hopping from one alternative world to another. It's easy."
"Not in the real world," the Doctor retorts, "It used to be easy—when the Time Lords kept an eye on everything. You could hop between realities and be home in time for tea. But then they died and took all that with them. The walls of reality closed, the worlds were sealed. Everything became... that bit less kind."
Mickey shrugs. "Well, maybe there are other Time Lords here?"
The Doctor lets out a heavy sigh, "The only Time Lords were in N-Space—our universe. Sure, we traveled to others. Occasionally ran into alternate versions of ourselves or tangled with timeline variants, but that's it. No Time Lords here."
The Alchemist, seemingly out of nowhere, bursts into laughter. The sound is sudden, drawing confused stares from both men.
"What's so funny, Alchemist?" the Doctor asks, his irritation growing.
"It's not funny," she manages between chuckles, "I was just remembering that time Ace and I realized she'd met the Ergon and handed him fries for Omega to eat in E-Space... back when she worked at McDonald's."
Mickey raises a brow, "Right. Ally's lost it… Guess it's up to you, Doctor. How did we even get here?"
The Doctor huffs, "I don't know! Accident? Should've been impossible. Now we're trapped..."
The Alchemist straightens, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, "Trapped, shmapped. Doctor, I found something."
Immediately, he sprints over, "Where?"
"What's that, then?" she gestures dramatically, smirking as she points at a faint glimmer beneath the grating.
Mickey steps over, "What?"
"That! Is it a reflection? A light? Is that... is that a light? I think it's a light!" The Doctor's excitement builds, his grin widening as he kisses his wife's copper head, "That's all we need. We've got power! Ha! Ally, with the power, found power!"
Laughing, the Doctor shifts the grating aside, diving into the console's base. He pulls loose a tangle of cables, sifting through them until he triumphantly holds up a tiny power cell, glowing faintly.
"It's alive!" the Doctor and the Alchemist shout in unison, throwing their arms into the air.
Mickey stifles a laugh at their theatrics, "What even is that?"
The Doctor examines it fondly, "It's nothing. Tiny. One of those insignificant little power cells that no one ever bothers about. And yet..." he gestures grandly, "...it's clinging onto life, with one little ounce of reality tucked away inside."
"Enough to get us home?" Mickey asks.
"Not yet. We need to charge it up," the Doctor says, his voice steady as he inspects the power cell.
"We could go outside and lash it up to the National Grid," Mickey suggests.
"Wrong sort of energy," the Time Lady informs him, "It's gotta come from our universe."
Mickey frowns, "But we don't have anything."
The Doctor shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips, "There's me."
"No," she interrupts firmly, "Hand it over. I'll just use some of my Vortex Energy. I told you I could power us up. Besides, it'll be faster and less wasteful."
"Wasteful?" Mickey asks, clearly not following.
The Doctor passes the power cell to his wife, and she cradles it gently in her hands. Focusing, she draws on her energy again, and with a quiet exhale, she blows out a stream of golden air onto the cell. The green light inside flickers brighter in response.
"Done. And yeah, we only have so much Regeneration energy," she says, her tone more relaxed now, "But even when I lose my bonds to the TARDIS and the Time Vortex, I still have a small supply beyond that."
She hands the now-glowing cell back to the Doctor with a satisfied smile.
Mickey eyes the flickering light with concern, "It's going out. Is that okay?"
"It's on a recharging cycle," she explains casually, "It'll loop around, power back up, and be ready to take us home in roughly twelve hours. I can shorten it if need be, but that's enough."
"So that gives us twelve hours on a parallel world?" Mickey asks.
The Doctor grins widely, "Shore leave. As long as we keep our heads down. Easy. No problem," he turns to his wife with a gleam in his eye, "Let's go and tell her."
[Embankment]
The Doctor walks over to Rose, grinning widely as she scrolls through her phone, "There you are. You alright? No applause. We fixed it. Well, Ally fixed it, actually. Twelve hours, then we're flying back to reality."
He waits for her response, but she doesn't even look up from the screen of her phone, her thumb scrolling slowly across the screen. The Doctor's grin falters as he watches her, his smile dropping to something more concerned.
"What is it?" the Time Lord asks.
Rose doesn't look up, "My phone connected. There's this Cybus Network. It finds your phone. It gave me Internet access."
"Rose, whatever it says, this is the wrong world," the Doctor warns, his voice sharp as he clenches his jaw.
"I don't exist," she says flatly, her eyes still fixed on the screen.
"What do you mean?" The Doctor asks, genuinely confused.
She shakes her head slowly, her voice hollow, "There's no Rose Tyler. I was never born. There's Pete, my dad, and Jackie. He still married mum, but they never had kids."
The Alchemist steps forward, her voice tight with frustration, "You should have never looked yourself up, Rose Tyler."
"Give me that phone," the Time Lord orders.
The Doctor moves toward Rose, ready to take the phone, but she pulls it away from him instinctively.
"They're rich," Rose continues, her voice trembling, "They've got a house and cars—everything they want. But they haven't got me. I've got to see him."
"You can't," the Doctor says, filled with a quiet urgency.
"He's not your father, Rose," the Time Lady interjects sharply, "That man is a stranger. A complete stranger."
Rose sighs heavily, her gaze falling back to the screen, "But... I just want to see him."
The Doctor shakes his head, frustration growing, "I can't let you. We can't let you."
She shoots him a glare, "You just said twelve hours!"
"Yes, and we should really be hiding in the TARDIS the whole time," the Alchemist says, raising her voice in a near shout.
The Doctor nods in agreement, "Not a bad plan, actually," he focuses back on his companion, "Rose, you can't become their daughter," he says, his voice soft but firm, "That's not how it works," He turns to the other, "Mickey, tell her."
Mickey glances over his shoulder, already stepping back, "Twelve hours, yeah?"
"Mickey, Rose, you don't understand," the Alchemist says, shaking her head in desperation, "Messing with alternate versions of yourself or your family is dangerous. You have no idea what they're even like. They don't even know you!"
"Time to find out then," Mickey says, turning away to walk off.
"Where're you going?" The Doctor calls after him.
Mickey scoffs without looking back, "Well, I can do what I want."
"Mickey!" the Time Lady cries.
Rose shrugs, unconcerned, and turns to leave, "I've got the address and everything."
"Stay where you are, both of you!" the Doctor shouts, "Rose, come back here! Mickey, come back here right now!"
"I just want to see him," Rose mutters, her steps slow as she walks away, ignoring the Doctor's command.
Mickey shrugs again, his tone light, "Yeah, I've got things to see and all."
The Doctor's voice is cold and dismissive, "Like what?"
The Time Lady's brows furrow in confusion. Doesn't he know? How does he not know?
Mickey turns sharply, his glare aimed at the Doctor, "Well, you don't know anything about me, do you? It's always about Rose. I'm just a spare part."
Rose continues her walk without hesitation, "I'm sorry. I've got to go."
"Go on, then," Mickey says to the Doctor, bitterness creeping into his voice, "There's no choice, is there? You can only chase after one of us. It's never going to be me, is it?"
The Alchemist's glare hardens, her eyes never leaving Rose's retreating form. She didn't even mention it. Didn't say a word to her husband about it. Her jaw clenches tightly.
"You had your chance to say goodbye, Rose Tyler," she seethes, her voice filled with venom.
Rose flinches at the words but keeps walking, ignoring the Time Lady's anger.
"Back here in twenty-four hours!" the Doctor shouts after Mickey before turning and chasing after Rose.
The Alchemist's hearts ache as she watches him follow Rose. He's choosing one companion over another—one who didn't even look back. Someone who'd already had her chance. The weight of it crashes down on her. It hurts more than she wants to admit.
"Yeah. If I haven't found something better," Mickey mutters as he stomps off.
The Alchemist keeps glaring at Rose's back for a moment longer before focusing on where Mickey is heading. She's not about to let him head off into this place alone, not allow him to struggle with the possibility of saying goodbye to his loved one alone. He needs someone there for support.
'Amara, come on,' the Doctor's mental voice calls to her.
"I'll come with you, Mickey," the Alchemist says, her voice calm but resolute as she strides toward him.
"Alchemist!" The Doctor shouts in alarm.
She scoffs, 'Theta Sigma, I am severely disappointed in you.'
'Ama…' he starts, his voice pleading, but she speaks over him.
'Call me if you need me. I programmed my new number into Rose's phone. Go deal with her. You clearly need a lesson right now,' she says sharply as she closes off their telepathic and empathic connection.
The Doctor halts, frozen in place. His breath catches in his chest. Terrified by what she just did, his mind races. She's never done that, never, they promised it to each other. But she just chose to sever the connection—and that alone sends a wave of panic through him. The fact that they went without it for so long. And now… now she's cut him off by choice? His mind spins as panic starts to settle in. What has he done?
"Are you coming or what, Doctor?" Rose snaps, clearly irritated at having to stop.
He glares at her, his frustration boiling over, and turns away, stomping ahead.
[Street]
"This is near where you grew up with your grandmother," the Alchemist observes.
Mickey glances at her, surprised, "How did you know?"
She exhales sharply, her irritation palpable. Beneath it, there's a deeper undercurrent—disappointment.
"Because you looked us up. And I looked you up. Waterton Street, right? The Doctor should have, too. And I'm furious with him for not doing it."
Mickey's brow furrows with concern, "Did he screw up that bad?"
The Time Lady nods, "That bad, yes. If he hasn't bothered to look you up, then he probably hasn't looked up Rose either. And that's a problem, Mickey," Her voice softens just slightly, but the anger still simmers beneath, "I should've trusted my instincts, should've pushed him to talk about it. I shouldn't have assumed everything was fine."
"What do you mean?" Mickey asks, his worry deepening.
She fiddles with the ends of her hair, "I thought he decided that Rose was a worthwhile companion based on her prior history and how she helped him. Not just because she helped him in the moment. But I should've questioned him, especially after all this time apart. I thought we were still on the same page, but now it's clear he needs a reminder of why we do what we do," she shakes her head, admonishing herself, "I should've seen this coming."
"What...?" Mickey begins, but she cuts him off.
"We have rules, Mickey. Rules we were supposed to go over with you today," she says, the frustration creeping back into her tone, "And this rule? It's one of the most important, but ours alone."
He stops walking, his brow furrowed. "What's the rule?"
"Protect yourself and your companions. Look them up."
"You mean you literally look us up?" Mickey asks, a bit incredulous.
"Only prior history to when we meet," she explains, her voice firm but weary, "It keeps us safe. It keeps you safe. If something happens, we need to know who your family or friends are. If you've chosen to hurt someone, we need to know about it," she pauses, "I relied on the Doctor to do this. He didn't. And now..." she swallows hard, her hurt resurfacing, "Now I've had to block him. Telepathically. Empathically. By choice. He can sense I'm nearby, but that's all. And I hate it. I hate that I had to do that."
Mickey nods slowly, "I'm guessing that's not something you've done before?"
"No," she admits, her voice tight, "We made a vow—never to cut ourselves off from each other, always to protect one another. I've only blocked him when it was necessary to protect him. When it was to shield him from pain or overwhelming emotions that frightened me."
She stops walking, her gaze dropping momentarily, "But now? Now, he's forgotten how important it is to look out for all of our companions equally and look out for ourselves as well. And I'm angry. But... it shouldn't have come to this. I regret that I had to do it. It hurts, Mickey. I'm hurt."
Mickey nods thoughtfully, "He deserves it, then."
"No, Mickey," she says softly, her voice heavy with emotion, "He doesn't… what I did was cruel."
The Alchemist and Mickey walk quietly for a while, the weight of her words hanging between them. The distance she's created with the Doctor, the anger and hurt swirling in her chest, are evident in her every step. But there's also a lingering sadness—a grief that she isn't sure how to carry.
Mickey's gaze softens, and he walks alongside her without pressing further, sensing her need for space but also coming to understand her turmoil.
She sighs, "It's not just about him, though, Mickey. It's about all of us. We've been through so much… and need to protect ourselves and everyone else all at once. It's a lot."
After a moment, he speaks, "But you're not walking away from him, right?"
"No, Mickey!" she replies, alarm lacing her tone, "I'm not walking away. I couldn't. I wouldn't. We're Bondmates. We're soulmates. There's no end for us, not in this life or any other. No matter what happens between us, no matter how much we hurt each other or how far apart we might feel in the moment, we don't give up.
"He's my other half, Mickey. I'm not just his wife. I'm his other soul. We belong to each other, always. There's really no end to us. We've been through too much to ever let anything break us. Not now, not ever."
"So, even now... even when he's made you angry, hurt you... " he hesitates, "You're still going to fight for him?"
The Time Lady smiles as she meets his gaze, "Yes, Mickey. I'll always fight for him. I'll always fight for us. There may be times when it's hard—when we don't understand each other and when we yell at each other—but it will never end. Not for me. Not for him. We don't give up. We never will.
Her eyes darken with a flicker of pain, but she steels herself, "I may be angry, but more than that, I'm hurt. I'm disappointed. But I'll heal, and we'll heal together. We'll fix this 'cause we always do. Because we're bound, Mickey. And nothing—not time, not distance, not even our mistakes—can tear us apart."
Mickey nods, "You'll make it through. He will, too. He's not perfect, but he's the Doctor. And he'll see, eventually. He always does."
After passing by a quiet, vacant lot, Mickey and the Alchemist stop in front of an army roadblock, the heavy presence of soldiers adding an unfamiliar, tense energy to the streets of this parallel world.
"Is it alright for us to pass through?" the Time Lady asks, her tone polite as she addresses one of the soldiers.
He gives a quick nod, "Yeah, no bother. Curfew doesn't start until ten."
"There's a curfew?" Mickey asks, his brow furrowing in surprise.
"Course there is," the soldier chuckles, "Where've you been living? Up there with the toffs?"
Mickey lets out a resigned sigh and looks skyward, "I wish. See you."
As they move past the blockade and into a quieter part of the city, the Alchemist remains vigilant, her mind working through the implications of their surroundings.
"You think she's here? Or that I even exist in this world?" Mickey asks, hope mingling with uncertainty.
"Honestly? No idea," the Alchemist's voice softens as she looks at him, "But for your sake, I hope so." she glances around again, "Having the chance to see someone you've lost, just one more time—I'd give anything for that," she exhales slowly, "But we have to be careful, Mickey. We can't let on that we're not from here. Don't reveal too much; if she's here, just follow her lead. Keep your head down."
Mickey processes her words before giving a solemn nod, "I get it."
"Would you tell me a bit about her? Your gran?"
Mickey nods, "Well, she was something else. Took me in when my mum… well, after Dad left, she was there. She didn't want me to lose touch with my friends, so she made sure I kept going to the same school as Rose. She even got me a flat for my sixteenth birthday. I didn't get it until a year and a half later, though." he shrugs, smirking lightly, "Honestly, gran never liked Rose. Couldn't stand her."
The Alchemist smirks, a tiny spark of humor in her eyes, "I think I like your gran."
Mickey laughs, "Yeah, well, she was a tough one."
"Sounds like it."
[Street 2]
"Mickey's mum just couldn't cope," Rose informs the Doctor, "His dad hung around for a while, but then he just sort of wandered off. He was brought up by his gran. She was such a great woman. God, she used to slap him! And then she died. She tripped and fell down the stairs. It's about five years ago now. I was still in school."
The Doctor frowns, "I never knew."
"Well, you never asked," Rose replies.
"You never said," the Doctor counters.
Rose sighs, her shoulders sagging slightly, "That's Mickey. I suppose I, we, just take him for granted. Do you think she's still alive, his gran?"
"Maybe," the Doctor answers absently, "Ally doesn't take anyone for granted. She cares about everyone…" he trails off, his expression distant, "And I need to make it up to her because I should have known..." his voice falters, a sudden wave of guilt washing over him, "And now I know exactly what I did. We need to get out of here as fast as possible so I can fix this."
Rose stares at him, her brows furrowing in confusion, "What do you mean? You didn't do anything."
Before he can respond, a strange beeping noise cuts through the air, and everything around them comes to a complete standstill.
Rose glances around, slightly alarmed, "What're they all doing?"
"They've stopped," he remarks, stepping forward cautiously, his attention now on the odd scene before them, "It's the earpieces. Like Bluetooth attachments, but everyone's connected together," he murmurs.
Rose, pulling out her phone, frowns, "It's on my phone. It's automatic, look. It's downloading. Is this what they're all getting? News, international news, sports, weather..."
"They get it direct," the Time Lord realizes, "Downloaded right into their heads."
"...TV schedules, lottery numbers," Rose adds, her voice trailing off.
The Doctor snatches the phone from her, scanning the message on the screen, "Everyone shares the same information. A daily download, published by Cybus Industries."
The following message that pops up is simply labeled 'Joke.' The crowd laughs in unison and then resumes walking as though nothing happened.
The Doctor scoffs, "You lot. You're obsessed. You'd do anything for the latest upgrade."
"Oi, not my lot," Rose defends, "Different world, remember."
"It's not so far off your world," the Doctor rolls his eyes, "This place is only parallel. Oh, look at that—Cybus Industries. Owners of just about every company in Britain, including Vitex. Mister Pete Tyler's very well connected." he tosses her her phone and throws up his hands in exasperation, "Oh, Okay. I give up. Let's go and see him. But you'll have to deal with her later as well."
Rose mutters a complaint under her breath, but there's a victorious smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
[Waterton Street SE15]
Mickey takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and the Alchemist places a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns to her, and she gives him a subtle nod. With one last inhale, he clatters the door knocker on number one.
From inside, an older woman's voice calls, "Who's that there?"
The door creaks open, revealing a woman with a white cane and earbuds. The Alchemist eyes them warily.
Mickey swallows hard, the lump in his throat threatening to break, but he fights to hold it together. The Time Lady gently squeezes his shoulder, offering silent support. Her gaze flickers back over the earbuds, suspicion growing.
"Who is it?" she demands, "know you're there. Shame on you—tricking an old lady. I've got nothing worth stealing. And don't think I'm going to disappear! You're not going to take me.."
"Hi," Mickey says quickly, his voice slightly shaky.
She frowns, "Is that you?"
Mickey nods rapidly, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, "It's me. I came home."
"Ricky?" she asks.
"It's Mickey," he corrects, wincing slightly when the Alchemist jabs him in reminder.
She scoffs, "I know my own grandson's name. It's Ricky. Now, come here."
She pulls him into a warm embrace, and Mickey tightens his arms around her. After a moment, his gran begins to push him back lightly.
"Okay, I'm Ricky. Of course, I am. Ricky, that's me," he says quickly, nodding in agreement.
Rita Anne repeatedly smacks him lightly on the shoulders, and the Alchemist steps back to contain her laughter.
"Ow!" Mickey protests, a smile tugging at his lips.
"You stupid boy. Where have you been?" she scolds, giving him another smack.
"Ow! Stop hitting me!" he complains.
"It's been days and days! I keep hearing all these stories. People disappearing off the streets. There's nothing official on the download, but there're all these rumors and… and whispers. I thought that God had disappeared you!" she exclaims, the worry in her voice unmistakable.
Mickey frowns deeply as his eyes fall on the worn carpet on the stairs. He swallows hard, his voice thick with emotion.
"That carpet on the stairs, I told you to get it fixed. You're going to fall and break your neck," he says, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill.
She smiles, unbothered by his concern, "Well, you get it fixed for me."
"I should've done it way back. I guess I'm just kind of useless," he mutters, guilt and frustration lining his voice.
"You're not useless, Ricky," the Alchemist reminds him gently.
Mickey's gran scoffs lightly, "Now, I never said that. And who's with you? Scots girl, huh?"
"I am, though. And I'm sorry, gran. I'm so sorry," Mickey admits, his voice cracking just a little before he turns to introduce the Alchemist, "Uh, this is Ally. She's just a friend of mine. I asked if she wanted to come with me to visit."
"Don't talk like that," she says firmly before a grin spreads across her face, "Nice to meet you, Ally, I'm Rita Anne."
"Lovely to meet you, Rita Anne. You know, that means 'Pearl of Grace'? You have a beautiful name and a wonderful grandson," the Alchemist smiles.
Rita Anne beams at her, "Don't I know it! You're sweet. Now, do you know what you both need? A nice sit down and a cuppa tea. You got time?"
The Time Travelers share a look, and the Alchemist smiles at Mickey, giving him a subtle nod.
Mickey grins widely, "For you, I've got all the time in the world."
She scoffs, "Oh, you say that, but it's all talk. It's those new friends of yours. I don't trust them. Maybe this Ally will set you straight."
Mickey looks at her in confusion, "What friends are they?"
"Don't pretend you don't know. You've been seeing them. Missus Chan told me. Driving about all helter-skelter in that van."
The Alchemist raises an eyebrow, "What van's that, then?"
"Oh, if you two are friends, you know full well! Don't play games with me," Rita Anne insists, shaking her head, "Get inside," she says, stepping back and holding the door open wider, a mix of concern and affection in her voice.
Just as they begin to step in, a van screeches to a halt nearby, and before anyone can react, a young man bursts out, grabbing Mickey by the arm and pulling him toward the vehicle.
"I've been looking for you everywhere!" he shouts, his voice urgent.
Mickey barely has time to process before he's shoved into the van. The Alchemist leaps in behind them, and the van speeds off.
"Ricky! Ricky!" Rita Anne calls out, alarmed, her voice carrying as they drive away.
[Van]
Jake scowls, his eyes hardening as he glares at Mickey, "Ricky, you were the one who told us you don't contact your family because it puts them in danger," he gestures to the Alchemist, "And who the hell is this!?"
Mickey shifts uncomfortably, nodding along, "Yeah, Ricky said that. Course I did, just testing. Uh, new member. Ally."
"Hi, Ally Starlight-Smith. No relation. Nice to meet you," the Alchemist says firmly, offering a polite smile.
"Jake, good to have you aboard," he responds quickly before his eyes widen in alarm, "I saw them. I taped them. They went 'round Blackfriars gathering up the homeless like the child catcher. They must've took four dozen."
The Alchemist's jaw tightens at this information; the very idea of it is horrific to her. Harvesting the vulnerable—it's everything she stands against. Everything she and the Doctor have fought against for centuries.
From the front, a woman says, "The vans were hired out to a company called International Electromatics. But I did a protocol search. Turns out that's a dummy company established by guess who?"
"I don't know. Who?" Mickey asks, glancing between them, curiosity piqued.
They both respond in unison, "Cybus Industries!"
"Well, now we've got evidence," Jake adds with a sharp smirk.
"Bad news is, they've arrested Thin Jimmy. So that just leaves you," the woman says.
Mickey frowns, "Leaves me what?"
Jake leans in, his voice almost triumphant, "The Number One. Top of the list. London's Most Wanted."
The Alchemist tries—and fails—to hold back a chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
"Okay, cool," Mickey mumbles, still processing, his eyes widen, "Say that again?"
"You're on top of London's Most Wanted List, Ricky," the Alchemist repeats with a smirk.
Mickey stares dully at her for a moment before lightly smacking the back of her ginger head, earning another laugh from the Time Lady at the move.
[Street - Night]
Jake's frown deepens as he narrows his eyes, looking inside the base, "There's a light on. There's someone inside the base. Missus Moore, we've got visitors."
Jake and Mrs. Moore pull out their guns, their movements swift and practiced as they begin to sneak toward the door. The Alchemist watches them closely, her gaze sharp with warning. She says nothing, but her eyes focus on the window. She knows exactly who's inside, and she's already bracing herself for what's coming. This will not end well.
Jake looks back at Mrs. Moore, giving a quick nod, "One, two, three, go!"
Jake flings open the door in one fluid motion, stepping in first, followed closely by Mrs. Moore.
[Base]
Mickey stands frozen, his mouth agape as he watches the young man spin around in shock.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mickey's double demands, his voice sharp.
Jake's brow furrows in confusion, looking between Mickey and his apparent doppelganger.
"What're you doing there?" he retorts, stepping back.
Mickey's double, Ricky, stares at him, incredulous, "What am I doing here?" he asks, his voice rising; he gestures to the group, "What am I doing there? And who the hell is that!?"
Jake and Mrs. Moore pivot, aiming their guns at Mickey and the Alchemist. The Time Lady, unfazed, rolls her eyes with a sigh. She looks up at the 18th-century painted ceiling, taking in the intricate details. A quiet amusement fills her as her lips curl into a small smile.
"Honestly," she mutters to herself, "Such drama."
[Tyler Manor]
"We could've been anyone," Rose mutters, glancing around the opulent room, her tone tinged with frustration.
"Got us in, didn't it?" the Doctor replies, his voice light and teasing as he balances the tray effortlessly in one hand.
"You're in charge of the psychic paper. We could've been guests. Celebrities. Sir Doctor, Dame Rose," she scoffs, rolling her eyes, "But no, we end up serving. Did enough of this back home."
The Doctor shrugs, unconcerned, "If you want to know what's going on, work in the kitchens," he leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "According to Lucy, that man over there..."
"Who's Lucy?" Rose interrupts, arching an eyebrow and scanning the room.
"She's carrying the salmon pinwheels," the Doctor explains, nodding toward a woman gliding through the crowd with a tray of hors d'oeuvres.
"Oh, that's Lucy, is it?" Rose's frown deepens as she follows his gaze.
The irritation prickling at Rose is sharper than she'd care to admit. She knows the Doctor is bonded to the Alchemist—a connection eternal and unbreakable. But knowing doesn't quell the sting of jealousy. The Alchemist, a Time Lady, is his equal, his forever. Yet Rose can't help but hope, against all reason, that she might somehow matter more. That she might be enough.
The thought twists inside her, bittersweet and unrelenting.
"Yeah. Lucy says that man over there... that's the President of Great Britain," the Doctor continues, oblivious to Rose's inner turmoil.
Rose blinks, "What? There's a President? Not a Prime Minister?"
"Seems so," The Doctor shrugs, unfazed by this alternate world's peculiarities.
"Or maybe Lucy's just a bit thick," Rose mutters, casting another glance at the woman.
Before the Doctor can respond, Pete Tyler appears at the top of the grand staircase, raising a hand to command the room's attention.
"Excuse me! Thank you very much," Pete calls out, his voice warm and charismatic as it cuts through the buzz of conversation, "Thank you! If I could just have your attention, please?"
The crowd erupts into applause and cheers, a few guests shouting out in encouragement.
"Pete! Go on, Pete!" someone yells.
"Thank you very much!" Pete responds, visibly flustered but clearly enjoying the spotlight.
"It's about time you did some work!" a man teases, laughter rippling through the crowd.
"I thought you liked them young!" another quips.
Pete grins, shaking his head at the good-natured ribbing, "Um, I'd just like to say thank you to you all for coming on this... this very special occasion," he pauses, "My wife's 39th."
The room bursts into laughter, and someone calls out, "Don't believe that one!"
Pete's smile widens, "Trust me on this," he says, gesturing toward the doorway, "And so, without any further ado, here she is, the birthday girl—my lovely wife, Jackie Tyler!"
Applause fills the room as Jackie strides in, radiating confidence in a sleek, black dress that hugs her figure. She moves like she owns the space, her presence commanding and magnetic.
"I'm not giving a speech," Jackie announces with a playful wave, "That's what my parties are famous for—no work, no politics. Just a few good mates and plenty of black market whisky," she adds with a wink at the President, "Pardon me, Mister President."
The crowd roars with laughter, and despite herself, Rose smiles. Her mother, as always, is the life of the party, effortlessly drawing people in.
"So, yeah, get on with it. Enjoy, enjoy!" Jackie's words are carefree, her charm lighting up the room.
Rose watches her mother work the crowd, the familiar warmth mixed with an ache she can't shake. It's her mum—but not. Her dad—but not. A life she longs for but can never truly have.
"You can't stay," the Doctor says softly, his voice pulling her back to the present.
Rose shakes her head, her voice quiet, "Course I can't. I've still got Mum at home. My real mum. I couldn't just leave her, could I?" she glances at the Doctor, searching for understanding, "It's just... they've got each other. Mum's got no one."
"She's got you. Those two haven't," the Doctor replies, his gaze steady, "All these different worlds… not one of them gets it right."
Jackie's voice calls out from across the room, bright and cheerful. "Rose! There's my little girl! Come to mummy, come to mummy!"
Rose's eyes widen and she looks toward her mother. Jackie picks Rose up, pulling her into a hug.
"Yes, good girl! Good girl, aren't you?" Jackie cooes at the dog, a well-groomed Yorkshire Terrier, giving her a scratch behind the ears.
The Doctor stifles a laugh, biting the inside of his cheek. Rose glares at him, her expression deadly.
"Sorry," he murmurs, clearly amused by the whole scene as he begins to laugh again.
[Base]
Jake scans Mickey with a device. He's sitting in a chair, bound by ropes, the flimsy fabric of his boxers the only thing covering him, a mix of frustration and disbelief on his face.
"He's clean. No bugs," Jake informs Ricky.
Just as Jake finishes his check, Mrs. Moore walks out of the bathroom, the Time Lady in tow. The Alchemist has a wicked smirk on her face, clearly amused. Mrs. Moore is blushing slightly,
"She's clean too... if you call that clean," Mrs. Moore remarks, raising an eyebrow as she looks over the Time Lady.
The others give the Alchemist a bewildered look, and she shrugs, a grin pulling at her lips.
Pacing back and forth, Ricky looks at his double, "But this is off the scale. He's flesh and blood. How did that happen?"
"Well, it could be that Cybus Industries perfected the science of human cloning," Mrs. Moore says with a hint of dry humor, "Or your father had a bike."
"And your name is Mickey, not Ricky?"
"Mickey," he nods, "Dad was Jackson Smith. Used to work at the key cutters in Clifton's Parade. Went to Spain, never came back."
"But that's my dad. So, we're brothers?"
Jake rolls his eyes, "Be fair. What else could it be?"
"I don't know," Ricky snaps, his gaze intense as he looks at his doppelganger, "But he doesn't just look like me. He is exactly the same. There's something else going on here, Jake."
The Alchemist purses her lips, her fingers gently tapping the armrest of the chair she has sat in.
She's silent momentarily before offering a cover story for her companion, "Nah. Nah, just... identical. You're twins, it's obvious. Mickey just wanted to go looking for his family."
"Exactly," Mickey nods frantically, "So, who are you lot?"
Ricky straightens, eyes gleaming with pride and defiance, "We? We are the Preachers. As in Gospel Truth," he taps his temple with a finger, pointing at his ears for emphasis, "You see? No earplugs. While the rest of the world downloads from Cybus Industries, we've got freedom. You're talking to London's Most Wanted, but target number one is Lumic, and we're going to bring him down."
"From your kitchen?" Mickey deadpans.
"Have you got a problem with that?"
"No, it's a good kitchen."
"Very nice," the Alchemist remarks as she glances up at the intricate ceiling, "I rather like the ceiling. I've done some good work in kitchens in my lifetime," she pauses, her eyes narrowing with curiosity as she looks around at the others, "What are you doing, though? Why is Lumic ordering the capture of innocent people?"
Ricky exhales sharply, "Okay, she's not so bad… We don't know, but we're going to stop it."
The Alchemist's expression softens as she nods firmly, "Then we're here to help."
After a brief moment, the trio exchanges a silent, understanding look and nods in unison.
Just as Jake opens his mouth to speak, a rapid beeping sound cuts through the air, sharp and insistent. Mrs. Moore's lips curl into a sly smirk as she rushes to a computer, glancing at the screen.
"It's an upload from Gemini," she states.
"Who's Gemini?" Mickey asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"The vans are back," Mrs. Moore says, her voice carrying an edge of urgency, "They're moving out of Battersea," she looks up from the device, meeting their eyes, "Looks like Gemini was right. Lumic's finally making a move."
"And we're right behind him. Pack up, we're leaving," Ricky orders.
Free from the ropes, Mickey quickly pulls himself together, hastily throwing on his clothes as the others prepare. Without a word, he and the Alchemist follow the Preachers into their waiting van. Everyone, except Mickey and the Alchemist, takes a moment to check their weapons.
Sitting across from them, the Alchemist stares at the guns with an unreadable expression. Her lips press into a thin line, her eyes flashing with distaste. The sharp glint of metal reflects in her gaze as she looks at the others, clearly unimpressed. She says nothing, but her discomfort is evident.
[Outside the Tyler's House]
Ricky and Jake huddle low in the dense bushes, their faces obscured by shadows as they peer at the mansion. Light spills from its towering windows, highlighting the grandeur of the imposing structure.
"I don't know what they're doing, but this seems to be the target," Ricky murmurs into the walkie-talkie, his voice barely a whisper. "Big house, fair bit of money. Now we've got to find a way to get in."
[Van]
Mrs. Moore says over the comm, "I've identified the address. It belongs to Peter Tyler, the Vitex millionaire."
Mickey's heart skips a beat, "Pete Tyler?" he asks, barely believing it.
The Time Lady grinds her teeth, her jaw clenched at the very mention of the name. Her posture stiffens, eyes narrowing in frustration.
Mrs. Moore replies flat with disdain, "He's listed as one of Lumic's henchmen. A traitor to the state."
Mickey swallows hard, an uneasy knot forming in his stomach. "But..."
He looks at the Alchemist sitting quietly, but her expression tells him everything. She rolls her eyes in exasperation.
"We've got to get in there," Mickey says, more to himself than anyone else.
"Now shut it, duplicate," Ricky's voice crackles over the comm, "That's what I just said."
The Time Lady tilts her head slightly, her enhanced senses picking something up. A soft, mechanical whirring sound cuts through the air, and her frown deepens. She listens intently.
Ricky shifts uneasily, his eyes locked on the driveway, "What are they doing?"
The lorry ramp in the distance begins to lower slowly, and the heavy thud of metallic feet hitting the gravel path echoes in the otherwise quiet night.
The Alchemist's eyes widen in alarm as she stands up abruptly, her face taut with anger, "I know that sound," she says, her voice low but filled with deadly seriousness, "I know that sound all too well."
Ricky's voice cracks as he shouts into the comm, "What the hell are they?"
Still looking at the Alchemist in confusion, Mickey can't shake the dread building in his gut.
"What is it?" he asks, his voice tight with concern.
Her voice is a low growl, barely contained, "Cybermen."
Before anyone can react, the Time Lady has already moved, her hand slamming the van door open as she sprints towards the sound of marching feet. She slams open the paths of the empathic and telepathic bonds, furious.
[Office]
The Doctor, hunched over Pete's laptop, squints at the screen, his fingers hovering above the keys. The sterile, corporate design of the presentation flickers as Lumic's voice cuts through the silence.
"The most precious thing on this Earth is the human brain," Lumic's voice booms through the speakers, "This is the ultimate upgrade. Our greatest step into cyberspace."
The Doctor's brow furrows, his eyes narrowing as the words settle in.
"Cybus," he mutters under his breath, his tone laced with recognition and concern.
A brief moment of relief flickers across his face as he feels the bonds reconnect, but that sense of comfort is short-lived. The anger and immense disappointment filtering through the bond unsettles him. He knew it was coming, but his concern and fear grow when his wife's furious voice cuts through his thoughts, and a new level of rage steadily fills the bond.
'Cybus Industries. Cybusmen!' the Alchemist's voice snaps him out of his momentary daze.
'Where are you?' he calls out, leaping to his feet, tense and urgent as he hurries out of the room.
"Outside the fucking mansion!' the Alchemist growls in response.
Without another thought, the Doctor takes off, racing down the corridors, his hearts pounding.
[Drawing room]
The Doctor grips Rose's arm and moves toward one of the windows, eyes scanning the chaos outside. He hisses sharply as he spots them, his body tensing with recognition.
"It's happening again," the Doctor growls.
Rose's brow furrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The Time Lord's expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he stares out the window. "I've seen them before. Ally and I have both faced them."
Rose looks out the window, her gaze following his.
"What are they?" she breathes.
"Cybermen," he says, his voice cold and distant; the name alone brings back a flood of painful memories.
The sound of crashing metal and splintering wood fills the air. The Cybermen charge through the walls, their hulking forms smashing through with brutal force. Glass and wood fly through the air as more mechanical monstrosities march through the house, surrounding the guests. The crowd erupts in a mix of terror and chaos, screams filling the air as people scramble to escape.
Amid the panic, the President of Great Britain watches his phone ring, his hand shaking slightly as he picks it up.
"Mister Lumic," he answers, his voice steady but with a slight edge of fear.
"Mister President. I suppose a remark about crashing the party would be appropriate at this point," Lumic's voice crackles over the line, dripping with cold amusement.
"I forbade this," the President growls, his face twisting in frustration and disbelief.
"These are my children, sir," Lumic replies, his tone chilling, "Would you deny my family?"
Rose glances around in terror, her breath quickening as the Cybermen move in, "What are they? Robots?"
The Doctor glances around, "Worse than that."
Through their telepathic connection, the Doctor's voice reaches the Alchemist, his tone urgent, ' Stay outside, I'll get out there soon.'
The President demands, his voice rising in panic, "Who were these people?"
Lumic's response is cold, almost dismissive, "Doesn't matter."
'Oh, yes, like this is any safer,' the Alchemist's mental voice snaps back.
Rose gapes in horror, her voice barely a whisper, "They're people?"
The Time Lord turns back to face her, his voice grim, "They were. Until they had all their humanity taken away. That's a living brain jammed inside a cybernetic body with a heart of steel. All emotions removed."
Rose's brow furrows, "Why no emotions?"
The Doctor's eyes meet hers, his expression hardening again, "Because it hurts."
"I demand to know, Lumic!" The President's voice is low and venomous, the weight of fear creeping into his words, "These people—who were they?"
Lumic's voice comes through the phone, cold and unyielding, "…They were homeless..."
"...And wretched, and useless..." the President's face hardens as he listens, "...Until I saved them, and elevated them, and gave them life eternal…"
Lumic's voice takes on a final, chilling tone, "And now I leave you in their capable hands. Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Mister President," Lumic Says coldly, the line going dead with finality.
The President slowly lowers the phone, his face ashen. His body trembles as the reality of the situation crashes down on him.
A mechanical voice cuts through the tension: "We have been upgraded."
The Doctor's voice rings out sharply, "Into what?"
The Cyberman stands tall, cold, and unfeeling, "The next level of mankind. We are Human point two. Every citizen will receive a free upgrade. You will become like us."
The President steps forward, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what's been done to you, but listen to me. This experiment ends tonight."
The Cyberman's response is unwavering, "Upgrading is compulsory."
The President glares, his fear replaced by defiance, "And if I refuse?"
The Doctor calls out urgently, "Don't."
"What if I refuse?"
"I'm telling you, don't."
"What happens if I refuse?"
The Cyberman stands still for a moment before it responds, its voice cold and merciless, "Then you are not compatible."
The Doctor exhales sharply, already knowing what will come next.
"What happens then?" the President's voice falters.
"You will be deleted."
Without another word, the Cyberman lunges forward, its cold metallic hands wrapping around the President's neck. A surge of electricity courses through his body, and he convulses violently. The guests scream in terror, chaos erupting again as the Cybermen begin to move through the crowd, grabbing and electrocuting anyone in their path.
"Jackie! Jackie!" Pete's voice rings out in panic as he desperately searches for his wife.
The Doctor pulls Rose with him, his urgency clear. His eyes quickly scan the room, and he spots a broken window. His pulse quickens. He gestures sharply to Rose, urging her to go through first.
Rose hesitates before pushing herself through the window as quickly as possible. The Doctor follows right behind, screams and destruction filling the air as they escape into the night.
[Outside the Tyler house]
"There's nothing we can do," the Doctor says firmly.
Rose's voice breaks with anguish, "My mum's in there!"
"She is not your mother!" he snaps, "Come on!"
They bolt across the lawn, but their path is blocked as more Cybermen emerge from the shadows.
Pete scrambles out the same shattered window, joining them as they weave around the mansion.
"Quick! Quick!" Rose urges, her desperation palpable as she spots him.
Pete follows, his breath ragged.
The Doctor turns sharply to him, "Pete, is there a way out?"
Pete gasps for air, his words tumbling, "The side gates. Who are you? How do you know so much?"
The Time Lord doesn't pause, rushing Pete and Rose forward.
'Side gates!' he projects mentally.
"You wouldn't believe it in a million years," he answers aloud, glancing at Rose.
'Already on my way,' comes the Alchemist's reply, sharp and resolute.
Another group of Cybermen cuts off their escape. Three figures sprint across the lawn, illuminated by the floodlights—two armed and one leading the charge.
Rose squints, trying to make them out. "Who's that?"
"Get behind me!" Ricky shouts, raising his weapon.
Ricky and Jake open fire, but the bullets bounce harmlessly off the Cybermen's armored shells.
"Stop firing!" the Alchemist orders, her voice slicing through the chaos.
The gunfire ceases instantly, and the Cybermen halt just before them, their mechanical forms casting an eerie shadowed glow under the lights.
Rose gasps in relief and disbelief, "Oh my God, look at you."
She throws her arms around Ricky, hugging him tightly. His expression twists in confusion.
"I thought I'd never see you again!" Rose cries.
Ricky pries himself free, frowning, "Yeah, no offense, sweetheart, but who the hell are you?"
"Rose! That's not me. That's like the other one," Mickey shouts as he jogs over.
"Oh, as if things weren't bad enough, there's two Mickeys," the Doctor bemoans.
"Actually," the Alchemist interjects, her tone clipped, "That's Ricky, and that's Mickey. I did warn you."
The Doctor swallows hard, glancing at the Alchemist as her fury simmers beneath the surface, feeling every ounce of it twisting within their bond. Her gaze remains locked on the advancing Cybermen, unwavering and fierce.
"It's Ricky, she's right," Ricky confirms with a half-shrug, his voice strained with tension.
Mickey's eyes dart in panic, "But there's more of them."
"Incoming," the Alchemist says coldly, her voice steady despite the growing threat.
Rose spins, scanning their surroundings, her face paling, "We're surrounded."
"Drop your weapons," the Alchemist commands, "The bullets won't even dent the metal."
Jake ignores her warning, firing wildly at the advancing Cybermen. Sparks fly, but the bullets ricochet uselessly off their armor. The Doctor lunges forward, yanking the gun from Jake's grip and letting it clatter to the ground.
"No! Stop shooting! Now!" he shouts before turning to the Cybermen, "We surrender! Hands up!"
The Time Lords raise their arms in unison, their expressions grim. One by one, the humans hesitantly follow their lead, hands lifting into the air.
The Alchemist lowers her head slightly, her voice cold and calculating, "There's no need to damage us. We're good stock. We willingly submit to the upgrade program. Full surrender. Take us for processing."
"You are rogue elements," a Cyberman states flatly.
"But we surrender!" the Doctor protests, his confusion mounting.
"You are incompatible," the Cyberman replies, its mechanical tone unyielding.
The Doctor steps forward, desperation creeping into his voice, "But this is a surrender!"
"You will be deleted."
"But we're surrendering! Listen to me, we surrender!"
"You are inferior. Man will be reborn as Cyberman," the Cyberman declares, "But you will perish under maximum deletion."
The Cybermen lift their arms, the unmistakable hum of electric energy building in the air.
"Delete. Delete. Delete!" they chant in unison, their metallic voices echoing ominously as they prepare to strike.