Eyes of Time: The Final Line ✓

Chapter 69: The End of Time Part II

A/N: 

Before you read this final chapter, I want to stop and thank you for reading every chapter. I never thought I'd get this far or have so many interested in reading what I write. The Alchemist has been living in my head since 2012 and has been growing ever since. When I decided to finally write her stories down, it was because I was in an awful state. Between trialing new medications (finally) and writing, I managed to break the cycle. So here's to the Alchemist for helping me through it. Here's to you for reading her story. And here's to Doctor Who for giving me their story to write her into. YAMAS!

[Gallifrey High Council Chamber]

Gallifrey burns.

Outside the dome of the Citadel, the planet is ash and ruin—only firelight and the dead silence of annihilation remain. Within the protective shimmer of the dome, the Citadel still stands, its ancient spires silhouetted against the blood-red sky. Inside, the High Council Chamber is cloaked in half-light, the air heavy with dread.

A man strides across the central bridge. Regal, imposing, flanked by two silent acolytes. The Lord President, Rassilon. He reaches the head of the long table and lowers himself into his seat. Six Time Lords are already present, three on each side, their expressions carved from stone. At the far end of the chamber, partially cloaked in shadow, a woman scribbles furiously on parchment, her movements jerky and frantic. Her skin is marked with henna-like tattoos; her eyes never lift from her work.

"What news of the Doctor?" Rassilon asks, his voice echoing against the stone.

The Chancellor bows his head slightly, "Disappeared, my Lord President."

"But we know his intention," says the Partisan, a woman seated two chairs down. Her voice is sharp, urgent, "He still possesses the Moment, and he'll use it to destroy Daleks and Time Lords alike. There is no doub that he knows how to use his Bondmate's creation."

The Chancellor nods, "The Visionary confirms it."

The woman at the end of the table, the Visionary, doesn't look up. Her voice slips into the air, a chant half-muttered, half-sung.

"Ending, burning, falling. All of it falling. The black and pitch and screaming fire, so burning."

The Chancellor gestures toward her, "All of her prophecies say the same. That this is the last day of the Time War. That Gallifrey falls. That we die, today."

"Ending," the Visionary repeats, the words coming faster now, "Ending. Ending. Ending."

The Partisan leans forward, elbows on the table, "Perhaps it's time. This is only the furthest edge of the Time War. But at its heart, millions die every second, lost in bloodlust and insanity. With time itself resurrecting them, to find new ways of dying over and over again. A travesty of life. Even, as you showed us, the Time Vortex cannot be controlled fully to save us. Isn't it better to end it, at last?"

"Thank you for your opinion," Rassilon says coldly.

Without hesitation, he raises his gauntleted hand and unleashes a burst of crackling blue energy. It strikes the Partisan directly. She barely has time to scream before she disintegrates into dust, scattered across the chamber floor.

"I will not die!" Rassilon bellows, "Do you hear me? A billion years of Time Lord history riding on our backs. I will not let this perish. I will not!"

The Chancellor steps forward again, this time more cautiously, holding a parchment in both hands, "There is, er, there is one part of the prophecy, my Lord," he murmurs.

He holds tight to the parchment, "Forgive me, I'm sorry. It's rather difficult to decipher, but it talks of survivors beyond the Final Day. Specifically, two children of Gallifrey."