Chapter Two: Conquering Siralos

Mere moments before the Doctor’s collapse, the Master of the past was sitting inside his TARDIS, wearing a robe that closely resembled the ones worn by the Time Lords of Gallifrey, the home he’d long left behind.

He stared at the pulsating red planet on his scanner and spoke to it, as if the energies could understand his words.

“Mighty orb…planet of pure mental energy…I, the Master, have harnessed the majesty of your psychic intellect and made you…” He grinned. “My puppet.

“Through you, I shall fulfill my destiny to bend the universe unto my will. To begin, I summon the seven complete incarnations of the one known as the Doctor. A Time Lord who, more than any other, has sought to…frustrate my destiny. The Doctor’s seven past incarnations shall be summoned hither where they shall be my prisoners to be dealt with as I see fit.

“I shall encapsulate the Doctor’s psyche within the depths of the Determinant, the domain I have created through your conquered will. And I shall systematically eradicate all pasts and any futures of the one who has sought to undermine my supremacy.” The Master stood and spread his arms wide. “Oh, mighty Siralos…” He chanted a command and the sound of a materializing TARDIS filled the room. He sat back down. “Bring forth the Doctor.”

The scanner fizzled and the image of a short man in a question-marked vest appeared.

The Master chuckled. “Ah, the most recent. One so busy setting plans and traps that he fails to see those set for him.”

The image changed to a man in a multicolored coat. “Oh, look, the blustering one in the stupid coat. How he struts and gloats.”

A younger man in a cream-colored coat appeared. “Wait, there’s the nice one. Such charm, such innocence, such naivety, such a fool.”

Another image change. This one was of a curly-haired man with an impossibly long scarf. “The bohemian! The wanderer. One so keen to abandon his roots, that he abandoned his sense.”

A tall man with a shock of white hair and frilled shirt appeared. “Now, there was a worthy foe. Such cunning, such ingenuity. All wasted through that stubborn streak of goodness.”

A shorter man with dark hair appeared. “The comedian! But a capable comedian, too. Not quite the clown he looks, this one.”

A white haired old man appeared. “There’s the first,” said the Master softly. “Such wisdom, such intellect. But, oh, what a bore the fellow was.”

He looked over and noticed Lisa, the winged woman who was always found at the Doctor’s side. Beside her was a protoplasmic being. The Doctor must be desperate to send those two to rescue him.

“What?” the Master asked of the pair. “A hero? A challenger? A miserable duo to defend your miserable existence, Doctor? That blob is something you’ve cobbled up yourself, by the look of it.”

“I bet you the Graak has more ingenuity in his amorphous matrix than you’ve ever had.” Lisa said icily, glaring.

“Well,” said the Master, amused, “good luck, Graak, you’ll definitely need it.” He chuckled. “The destiny of the Doctors is in your hands.” He laughed. “Oh! Don’t make me laugh!”

And that was all he did as the surroundings wavered.

End chapter two.

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