He's running through a forest again-- but an entirely different one this time. Even without the smells and sounds, so familiar that it aches, the silver foliage tells him that it's Gallifrey. It's home.
Never mind that most of that silver is quite literally catching fire now, no longer simply a trick of the setting suns. In the air, the acrid stink of war, the stench of decay. In his head, the echo of shrill voices-- some Dalek, some Time Lord. Some species he's never even heard of. All trying to escape and lay claim to Time itself.
The drums (they never went away, not even after the link was severed) suddenly peak, spiking through his conscious mind, and he screams, stumbles. They're coming to find him. They're coming to find him and he can't hide.
"No!--"
The Master wakes with a start, rattling the shackles against the stone floor. When he catches sight of Rose Tyler through the glass, he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, in some combination of relief and annoyance.
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Never mind that most of that silver is quite literally catching fire now, no longer simply a trick of the setting suns. In the air, the acrid stink of war, the stench of decay. In his head, the echo of shrill voices-- some Dalek, some Time Lord. Some species he's never even heard of. All trying to escape and lay claim to Time itself.
The drums (they never went away, not even after the link was severed) suddenly peak, spiking through his conscious mind, and he screams, stumbles. They're coming to find him. They're coming to find him and he can't hide.
"No!--"
The Master wakes with a start, rattling the shackles against the stone floor. When he catches sight of Rose Tyler through the glass, he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, in some combination of relief and annoyance.