Eyes of Time: The Final Line ✓

Chapter 57: The Weight of Invention

[House TARDIS Kitchen]

Titan sits at the kitchen table, absently stirring sugar into his tea, the spoon clinking rhythmically against the porcelain. The sound is steady, methodical, yet the tension radiating from him fractures the illusion of calm. The Alchemist watches him, cradling her own cup between her hands. The scent of steeped leaves and warm biscuits fills the space, wrapping around them like a familiar embrace—a quiet ritual they have shared for centuries. A simple act of comfort, once belonging to the Great House they all called home.

But today, the tranquility is deceptive.

Titan's jaw tightens. His frustration simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. He stares into his cup, watching the sugar dissolve, as if searching for answers in the swirling liquid.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low but pointed, "Do you ever plan on telling him?"

The Alchemist exhales slowly, eyes steady on the steam curling from her tea, "Telling him what, Titan?"

He huffs, the muscles in his arms tensing as he sets his spoon down with a little more force than necessary, "You know exactly what, Mum."

She presses her lips together, gaze flicking to her son's. There's no evading this, not with Titan. He has always been direct, unrelenting when something weighs on him like herself. His mind, like his father's, is sharp and restless, but his heart—his heart is both of theirs. Heavy with guilt, with responsibility, with the burdens of a war they are all trying to leave behind.

She sighs heavily, "It's not that easy."

Titan scoffs, shaking his head, "How can it not be easy? Just come out with it now."

Her fingers tighten around her cup before she sets it down with care. The weight of the conversation presses against her chest. There are so many things she has kept from the Doctor—so many truths she has swallowed down, buried deep beneath the centuries. But this? This was never meant to be hidden.

"Fine," she concedes, her eyes meet Titan's, unwavering, "You built the Void Ship against the orders of the Ten. Happy now?"

Titan's shoulders slump, his anger giving way to something heavier. He rubs a hand over his face, the frustration in his features morphing into something more vulnerable.

"No," he murmurs, "Because I regret it every day. And I regret it even more that I couldn't destroy that thing in time. They stole it... they stole it, and..."

"I know, Titan," The Alchemist's voice is softer now, "I know what they did."

His breath shudders, his hands curling into fists on the table. His teacup rattles against its saucer, the only outward betrayal of the storm raging within him.

"Because of me, they came back," he says hoarsely, "Because of me, they broke through the Time Lock. I..." his voice cracks, and he swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, "It's my fault, Mum."

The Alchemist reaches across the table, her fingers wrapping gently around one of his clenched fists. Her touch is warm, grounding. Titan doesn't pull away, but he doesn't relax either.

"No," she says softly, her grip tightening slightly, "The fault is with those who stole it, those who twisted your creation into something monstrous. You built it to understand, to learn, not to destroy. You wanted to create, not to break. And the true fault, more than anyone, lies with Rose Tyler. An infantile human who broke the laws of our people."

Titan's throat bobs as he tries to swallow down the guilt. He shakes his head, but his mother doesn't let go.

"You are not them. You are not the Daleks. You are not a monster," she whispers, "And I will not let you carry their sins."