[TARDIS - Console Room]
A quill pen glides across a sheet of paper, carefully etching notes onto the page. The Doctor lies sprawled on the floor of the TARDIS control room, humming softly to himself. He holds the quill in one hand, a bottle of black ink resting beside him, and sheets of music scattered in front of him like fallen leaves.
He whistles a tune, letting the melody guide his hand as he writes, then dips the quill into the ink once more. In one swift motion, he stands, gathering a handful of the sheets and setting them on a music stand.
Behind him, an alarm blares from the console.
"Not now, I'm busy," he mutters, not even turning around.
The bleeps persist, insistent. The Doctor sighs in irritation and finally turns toward the console.
"Oh, all right then," he grumbles, "What?"
The screen flashes with a warning:
ALERT: TELEPORT BREACH
His brow furrows, "What? ...What!?"
Before he can react further, a bright flash of light fills the room. A small figure materializes from above, landing in the middle of the console room with a slight thud. The Doctor spins around, already scowling.
"Oi! Get out of my TARDIS!" he throws his hands in the air, "I let down the defenses for one second—one second!"
The creature—small, no more than three-foot-eight, clad in dark clothing with a pinkish-brown face and three tentacle-like appendages hanging from its head—stares back at him with wide, dark eyes. Its deep, guttural voice rumbles through the air.
"I must speak to the Doctor and the Alchemist."
"I don't care," the Doctor retorts, waving a dismissive hand, "I'm busy. You're a Graske, and a Graske is always trouble," he jerks his thumb toward the TARDIS doors, "Out! And keep it down—my wife is working."
The Graske tilts its head slightly, as if listening. A soft, melodic sigh drifts through the air, not unlike the distant sound of wind through the trees.
"But that noise," the Graske murmurs, eyes wide, "A beautiful sound in the air. What is it?"
The Doctor pauses, finally taking a moment to listen himself.
He exhales, then steps closer to the Graske, "If you must know, that's the music of the spheres."
The Graske blinks, "Music of the spheres? What is that?"
The Doctor crouches down to its level, his voice gentler now, "Well," he begins, eyes glinting with that familiar spark of wonder, "you've got all those planets revolving around suns, and all those suns revolving in a galaxy, and all those galaxies revolving around each other. If you take the gravity patterns, feed them through the TARDIS harmonic filter... that, Mr. Graske, is the sound of the universe."
He looks up, momentarily lost in the symphony that hums all around them.
"The universe," the Graske breathes, awestruck, "It sounds wonderful."
The Doctor grins, "Yeah. It does, doesn't it?" he shakes himself from his reverie, springing back to his feet, "But you're still not staying."
The Graske straightens, its expression turning serious, "No. The Graske came to warn you."
The Doctor narrows his eyes, "About what?"
The creature lifts a clawed finger, pointing behind him, "About that."
The Doctor turns just as a dark void begins to form in the middle of the TARDIS wall, near the doors. A swirling black hole, growing larger by the second.
YOU ARE READING
Eyes of Time: The Final Line ✓
FanfictionThe Alchemist knows that Time has consequences. Now having Regenerated with her Bondmate, the Doctor, both Time Lords have to confront the repercussions of Rose Tyler's actions. The question is, when will that payment fully come due? They received o...
