FANGARIUS: Forgotten Days - Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Although The Doctor had encountered various beings, both strange and wondrous, nothing had ever compared to him meeting Washan Habuki.

She was more commonly known as Washu, the nomenclature bestowed upon her by Fanger himself, when he was only a mere child.  Yet, long before her nickname, Washu’s reputation had preceded her.  Even if it was constantly varying from time-to-time.  Approximately 20,000 years old, Washu was known as the greatest, scientific genius within the Universe, even possibly the Multiverse. 

                Judging from her skills on Gallifrey, she wasn’t just boasting.  The Doctor even knew the Daleks and F-Clones fundamentally dreaded her.  The Sontarans and Rutans actually ceased fighting whenever she was within the vicinity.  And somehow the Cybermen developed trepidation of the mere mention of her name.

                Even the Locanshites and the High Council had established treaties with Washu, making one wonder how she had crossed paths with Gallifrey and The Doctor in the first place.  In reality, it had begun when Rassilon, the Clanstribes and the Time Lords had decided on developing sacred relations with their neighbours.

                More specifically, The Sisterhood of Karn.

                The Doctor recalled not telling Sarah Jane Smith the truth behind the Sisterhood.  Though his last visit had made it appear they were an ancient sect worshipping a flame, the reality was they were the most powerful Paranormals of the Universe. Rather than be the typical malevolent beings one might expect, The Sisterhood kept peace throughout the Universe.  One reason, as The Doctor knew, was due to their Elixir of Life.  Since many sought after it, most knew The Sisterhood of Karn was ultimately protective of it.

                The Clanstribes were the first deciding on establishing diplomatic relations with them as a means for exchanging secrets and safeguarding the Elixir.  However, for reasons unknown, The Sisterhood had sent their Tellurian representative from Earth, Diane.  Accompanying her was the Royal Science Academy Director of Jurai, Washu, though no one really knew why, except perhaps the Royal Family had an interest as well.

                The Doctor recalled also overseeing the event with Keanu and Fangexlcoatl.  Everything had seemed intricately planned out, until Fate had other plans.  One was Harrison falling in love with Diane.  The other was Washu making the decision of staying behind after Harrison and Diane’s wedding.  She claimed she was merely ensuring the Royal Scientific Academy’s interest.  Except when Dunestar had been born, she and The Doctor had been officially appointed as his godparents.  And not just with him, but with Zaralynn, James and Fanger.  Though things had appeared smoothly with Dune and ‘Lynn, it was the last two children where things on Gallifrey had become less than idyllic.

                James, which The Doctor now suspected may have been Jamie McCrimmon, had mysteriously disappeared during the Great War.  During the aftermath, Diane had given birth to Fangarius.  Except things had been short-lived, as Diane had perished two months after Fanger’s birth.  Her unexpected death had hit everyone hard, especially with Dunestar and Harrison.  Even The Doctor had suspected foul play, while Washu had taken charge of the Little One.  Nobody had known what Washu had exactly done, since everyone knew a Wolf child cannot survive without its parents’ milk at such an age.  But she had miraculously saved him, and had taken it upon herself in raising Fanger the best she could, along with Dunestar and Harrison.

                The Doctor recalled how Fanger was once forbidden going to the Capitol.  As he lived on the outskirts of Low Town, home of the Shobogans, near the Syli-Dal’Chi, the Gallifreyan Outback, Washu felt it best if the Little One focused on more scientific pursuits than being a Time Lord.

                Fanger had called her Washu, since he was too young to pronounce her name properly.

                Then several years before The Onslaught, Washu had vanished.  Receiving word from the Royal Scientific Academy, a rogue student, Kagato was causing some problems with Jurai, and was secretly setting Gallifrey on his sights.

By the time Washu had returned, The Doctor had learned from Fanger’s cousin, Kiyone, she was now residing on Earth.  With the Masaki Family, if The Doctor recalled correctly.  Yet, despite her own transdimensional facility, Washu had still been monitoring Gallifrey.  All the way up to the Time War.

                During this time, amidst the infinite projects she was involved with, Washu knew there were some beyond The Doctor’s perceptiveness. While walking down the immense corridor, The Doctor  sensed this was not the first time he had been to this facility.  Taking into consideration he had traveled the infinite cosmos for several centuries, it wasn’t unusual for the Time Lord acquiring déjà vu now and again.  Except this was different, as The Doctor detected the faint rushing sound emanating from above.

                Although Washu was escorting him, the Time Lord felt the place bore a sinister atmosphere.  Especially since Harrison was present among their ranks.  Inspecting his surroundings, acknowledging the inset doors and built-in illumination, The Doctor calmly inquired about his location. ‘Uh, Washan..’

                ‘Call me, “Washu,” ’ she corrected.

                ‘..Washu,’ The Doctor wondered why she fancied that nickname. ‘Just where exactly are we?’

                ‘Galveston Bay, Doctor.’ Harrison automatically responded.

                ‘Galvest…’ At first, the Time Lord knew Washu didn’t have a facility in Texas, let alone Galveston Bay, until forgotten memories inundated his mind.  Registering the co-ordinates, The Doctor’s mind recalled when he was within his specific region.  Back when The Master had attempted another satellite dish scheme, which was a bit redundant since the renegade had tried before with the Pharos Project and Logopolis.  Of course, this time around, The Master had to contend with Fanger.  The Doctor had vividly recalled the Toon Wolfesque form of his Godchild’s Third Form, wondering when would the being shed that ridiculous body.

                Regrettably, he had wondered no more, as the Time Lord had witnessed Fanger drop himself from the satellite dish, avoiding The Master’s lethal attack with the Tissue Compression Eliminator.  The Doctor had briefly witnessed Fanger’s physical transmogrification.  Dark-haired, with a multicoloured headband, Fanger’s new form had appeared a bit more humanesque.  Even though in that Incarnation he had retained his lupine characteristics.  At this venture, The Doctor suddenly disclosed his exact location.

                More specifically, what it originally was and just how he and the Fourth Fanger had ended up here.

                ‘No…’ The Doctor disbelievingly spoke, never imagining he’d ever return here.

                Ignoring her guest’s temporal drama, Washu brought him and Harrison towards a colossal entrance. ‘Yes, Doctor,’ she activated the etherpad upon its side. ‘We’re inside Doctran’s former sub-headquarters.’

                ‘Former?’ The Doctor raised his eyebrow as Washu keyed in the sequence.

                ‘Affirmative,’ Harrison confirmed. ‘Sensei and I acquisitioned it about several years back. We’ve been utilising it as a private sanctum. Dr. Habuki’s assisting me until Sensei fully recovers.’

                ‘What?’ The Doctor frowned.  Jidai Sakugo did not seem as one requiring a concealed hideout, much less one which served as a F-Clone Complex.  But with Washu helping Jidai out—inconceivable as it might appear—anything was possible.

                Main doors automatically opened, revealing an advanced, transdimensional laboratory.  Entering inside, The Doctor promptly recognised it as one of Washu’s personal workshop.

                ‘Harrison,’ Washu approached the main etherpad controls. ‘Could you go over to the North Central Store and check the current inventory?’ Touching a key, she produced a doorway from the far end of the room.  Bowing graciously, Harrison politely excused himself.  The Time Lord watched as the young man stepped through the entryway.

Washu instinctively dispersed the portal behind Harrison.  Before The Doctor responded, she continued operating upon the etherpad.  Without warning, a gigantic, holographic sphere materialised in front of them.  Swirling with electronic force, the sphere began neatly etching lines over its surface.  At first, one might have mistaken it for a representation of Mars.  However, on closer inspection, the lines were neatly scored out as if they were measurements.  Some contained digits, others symbols, but overall the lines served one purpose: keeping track of Time.

                The Doctor identified this as the ChronoSphere.  Or, more specifically, the ultimate representation of Time and Space.  For here one could observe every TimeLine known throughout the Universe itself, in relation with the Universal TimeLine as well.

                ‘Heard you had an unexpected guest, Sigma.’ Washu broke the Time Lord’s contemplation.  She continued inputting astronomical equations and variables required for the ChronoSphere. ‘An Ancient, Cillian, I believe.’

                The Doctor gave her a disbelieving expression, swiftly followed by an accusing glare.

                ‘You were the one who gave me the sonic screwdriver.’ He usually expected something more, but after what he had experienced back in the TARDIS, he suspected this Washu’s mechanisation.

                ‘Actually,’ Washu observed the sphere while she kept typing. ‘I didn’t, Harrison did.’

                ‘What? Harrison…’ The Doctor frowned.  Factoring in the information, he attempted coming up with a probable misapprehension. ‘You..of course.. mean Fangsie’s Father..’

                ‘No, Sigma,’ Washu briefly rolled her eyes. ‘You know very well I mean, Harrison, as in Jidai’s apprentice and protégé.’

                All right, then… The Time Lord considered he had fallen into a rabbit hole, and speaking to the Mad Hatter, than searching for Fangarius.  For he knew whenever you dealt with Washu, you weren’t going to receive a direct answer.  In fact, one was fortunate in getting a proper answer at all.  But you never dared let her know about it.

                Before the conversation continued, Washu touched another key.  Automatically the sphere rotated, causing one of the azure lines to draw in closer.  Taking out his glasses, The Doctor placed them on.  Examining the line, he noticed the slight difference.  Crimson and ancient symbols dancing wildly about, it indicated something was seriously wrong.  He realised Washu’s complex also served as a Parachronistic Chamber.

                 Even more disturbing was the segment he was now observing.  Although he had witnessed anomalies several times before, The Doctor had rarely come across this particular one.  He astonishingly removed his glasses, giving Washu another incredulous stare.

                ‘What is this, Washu?’ he demanded, hoping this was just some horrible joke.

                ‘You now see why Fangarius continued with his investigation,’ she tapped a few more keys. ‘But here’s what obtained our Godchild’s interest.’

                The ChronoSphere commenced its rotation, summoning Events directly from the Vortex itself.  Images started forming while Washu extracted the infodata.  The Doctor watched as he recognised his former Incarnation.  The image revealed he was not alone, as he was attended with a young, blonde-haired girl.  This was Rose Tyler.

                ‘Rose,’ The Doctor nervously uttered, while Washu continued feeding the necessary infodata into the ChronoSphere.

It was November 7^th, 1987, when the TARDIS had mysteriously taken him and Rose back to the very moment of her father’s death.  The Doctor knew it was against his better judgment, but inexplicably the TARDIS had obliged her.  Although they were supposed to be just observers, Rose couldn’t bear witnessing the tragic moment.  Regrettably, her interference had inadvertently summoned the Reapers.

                ‘Reapers?’ Washu frowned, producing a holographic image of one.  Dragonesque in nature, the creature possessed four-arms, wings, red-eyes and a scythe-like tail.  One exceptional note was having a sharp-toothed orifice within its abdominal area. ‘And you Time Lords claim Tellurians are the emo-dramatists.’

                ‘Ah,’ The Doctor sensed her sarcastic tone. ‘So I take it, despite their behaviour, they’re not officially called Reapers, then?’

                ‘PteraChrons,’ Washu identified, turning towards The Doctor. ‘Contrary to popular belief, they don’t just simply materialise whenever there’s a wound in Time, as you’ve grossly misapprehended.’

                ‘Really?’ The Doctor heatedly retorted. ‘You sure? Because the last time I checked they were rampaging about November, 1987, devouring people left and right… me…’

                ‘Sigma, PteraChrons don’t devour, they relocate, by processing the physical being, then transferring it into an alternate Time Reality. And no,’ Washu smirked. ‘They don’t excrete it  like waste, as you should know when they attacked you.’

                Secretly, The Doctor recalled when Rose had inadvertently caused a Time Paradox.  Right after she established contact with her infant self, the Reapers—PteraChrons—had emerged through the old church.  The Doctor knew since he was the oldest being there now, he might stop them.  Without warning, when they had established contact, a strange thing had occurred.

For one brief moment, The Doctor had found himself back inside the TARDIS.  Except everything he had known about Rose had been expunged from his mind.  And not just the information and memories, but the experiences themselves.

 No Nestene Consciousness.  No Daleks.   No Slitheen.

Nothing.

Even the TARDIS interior appeared different, it resembled the way it had before the Great Time War.  With steel girders than the coral, organic pillars.  The Main Console appeared in the former H.G. Wells’ motif, than the one he and Fanstar had constructed.  But just as he was about to reach out toward the former controls, The Doctor had found himself instantly back into his proper Reality.

                ‘Yes,’ Washu noted, ‘when Rose’s father sacrificed himself, the warrant became null and void.’

                ‘Right,’ The Doctor then registered her out-of-place term. ‘Hang about, warrant? What, on me?’

                ‘No,’ she turned towards the Time Lord. ‘On Ms. Tyler.’

Darkness permeated the vast chamber’s serene atmosphere, Harrison silently leaned against the closed door.  Holding the chilled container at fore, he was trembling and sweating.  Throughout his existence he had never experienced such thoughts before, let alone these sensations.  Was this what Tellurians referred to as antipathy and rage?

                Emotions were not all completely foreign to Harrison, however, since he once endured jealousy when this ‘Jake’ Ayrian Hennington arrived on the scene.  But with this particular feeling, he simply dismissed it.  Harrison considered it irrational for Jidai ever wanting to replace him.  Especially with a clueless Tellurian, who had absolutely no interest with the Faction whatsoever.  And even then, he never desired for any genuine harm upon Ayrian as he had just wanted for Dylan.

                Harrison determined these new emotions were triggered by the prospect of him possibly losing his Sensei.  When Jidai had been struck by the Magnalite blast, Harrison actually felt his Sensei’s agony as well.  Adding to the equation of Dylan’s delusional attitudes, Harrison’s only aspiration was making the Wolf-Being suffer dearly as Jidai had endured.  No matter what the cost.

                Fear and exhilaration surged throughout his body.  Rather than becoming wary of these new sensations, Harrison secretly embraced them.  Besides feeling more alive than he ever had been before, he perceived he was still able maintaining control over these emotions.  Peering through the darkness, he was oblivious about no longer wearing his glasses.  For now, it was imperative keeping these newly-acquired behaviour in check.

                Notably because now Washu and The Doctor were involved.  And it wouldn’t be in their best interest if Harrison ended up ripping apart their captives every time he felt this way.

                ‘All things considering,’ a voice softly spoke in the shadows. ‘I’d probably Dimension Shatter those guys if they had pulled that on one of my relations or friends.’

Sapphire force emanating from bioglyphs and cryptograms, subtly pierced the shadowy veil, revealing Harrison’s unexpected guest.  Eyes transfixed upon the chamber before him, Harrison detected the Fandraelian’s scent.

‘Da’Sahn Dr’Kar,’ Harrison felt no need for facing his guest.  From the bioscent, he precisely knew what his unexpected guest was wearing:  dark hooded-vest, ebony vambraces, mystic gauntlets, black pants and boots.  Not unlike the Faction, Fandraelians also possessed the capabilities for transversing dimensions.

‘Haven’t been called that in some time, Harrison,’ Dustin placed a hand upon the young man’s shoulder.

Harrison could feel the being’s ice-blue eyes, set against deep blue, gazing directly upon him.

‘Calm,’ Dustin gave Harrison’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’ve no qualms here, nor is my visit a confrontational one.’ Concentrating upon the hyperbolic chamber, Dustin’s eyes became emblazoned within an intense sapphire light. ‘Heard about Jidai…’ Analyzing the chamber, he observed the occupant being bathed within mystic sand.  Narrowing his eyes, the Fandraelian conducted a brief BioScan on Jidai. ‘Magnalite Poisoning… Level Twelve, I believe…’ He frowned, wondering how such an assault could’ve occurred. ‘Surprised he’s still…’  Ceasing his scan, Dustin foolishly forgot his location.  And the fact Harrison was deeply concerned for Jidai. ‘Apologies, dude.’  

‘No,’ Harrison flatly responded, facing the Fandraelian. ‘You’re essentially correct. Sensei’s recovery’s progressing exceptionally better than estimated. Considering the circumstances and variables involved.’

Upon closer examination, Dustin knew Jidai was not quite out-of-the-woods yet.  Even the most vigorous Paranormals rarely endured Level Nine Magnalite Poisoning, than the intensity Jidai had received.  But he suspected Harrison wasn’t going to admit the Paradox Fangarian’s critical condition to him.

Within the hyperbolic chamber, mystic sands swirled about its patient.  Judging from the container Harrison held, Dustin perceived Jidai was also been fed a lactose supplement.  However, the Fandraelian wasn’t too keen on learning about the supplement’s origins at the moment.  Despite these efforts, Dustin realised the only expedient course was completely purging the Magnalite from Jidai’s body.

‘No doubt you’ve heard about Fan and Jake as well.’ Wasn’t quite the icebreaker Dustin had in mind. ‘Seems the local Torchwood branch has been rather industrious..’

‘Cillian,’ Harrison promptly identified. ‘Sensei and I have suspected him for quite some time now. He’s been stirring up the LM-Faction, not to mention Torchwood Jacinto. He presumes his deception has succeeded, but you, I,’ he glanced at the door. ‘And Dr. Habuki are aware of his true nature.’

The Omicron provided Harrison with some infodata about these events.  He suspected the Ancient served as a common link with all of them.  Nonetheless, it seemed curious as why Cillian considered it necessary in forming an alliance with both the Cal’Del and Torchwood.  Despite the conundrum behind the Cal’Del, the Torchwood connection wasn’t as enigmatic as one might imagine.

The Torchwood Institute was originally established back in 1879.  Shortly after The Doctor had saved Queen Victoria from a Lupine-Wavelength-Haemovariform—or as Fanger had simply verified—a Lupikal, she created the Institute as a means for keeping Britain great and fighting alien hordes.  Especially The Doctor himself.  Of course, in 1881, Victoria had inexplicably repealed The Doctor’s standing thanks to Fanger.  Apparently, some mystical force had catapulted her highness into the 20^th Century, where the Fourth Fanger detected the Time Lord’s scent upon her.  Not to mention the Lupikal infection she had received back in 1879.

                Conducting some brief research, Fanger discovered what Victoria had done and was hardly pleased. After revealing to her The Doctor’s relationship to him, as well as the sacred treaty established with the Fangarian Clanstribe back in 528 AD, the Paranormal Time Lord wasted no time striking up a compromise.

                In exchange for The Doctor’s pardon, Fanger would cure Queen Victoria of the Lupikal Infection.  Though she was sent back to her proper time, the Fourth Fanger did briefly go back, ensuring she had kept her promise.  Regrettably, not all Torchwood members honoured the agreement as Fanger had hoped, as it appeared the Institute had employed its own agenda.  Throughout several years, the organisation kept relentlessly pursuing Fanger, The Doctor and the Faction Paradox.  Which, both Jidai and Harrison considered odd since the Institute bore no implemental role within the Spiral Politic.  Not that they actually cared about it, either, but wondered why the organisation had developed such a fascination with them as well.

                When Torchwood One in London had been destroyed by the Dalek-Cyberman battle in Canary Wharf, Captain Jack Harkness had restructured Torchwood Cardiff as more of a Paranormal Investigations Bureau, not unlike what Fanger had once established with the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, or UNIT.

                Lamentably, no one had ever imagined the Institute would expand itself across the pond, nor reach global proportions.  Dustin heard once Fanger had locked horns with J. Edgar Hoover.  Apparently the Director of the FBI had heard about the Torchwood Institute and secretly wanted an American Branch established.  Of course, the Paranormal Time Lord perceived Hoover’s increasing paranoia about protecting the country from subversives and radicals.  Coupling with the fact Fanger saved Captain Jack from being re-educated by Hoover’s private agents, and what really went on at Roswell, he definitely wanted no part of this Torchwood.

                After all, the Paranormal Time Lord thought it was bad during the Salem Witch Trials.  Making matters worse, Fanger later discovered Hoover had developed an off-shoot organisation from Torchwood and the FBI, which implemented Paranormals as arsenals rather than defenders.  One which desperately wanted Fanger as a member, but he also wanted no affiliation with it as well. 

                As a result, Fanger and The Doctor were usually hounded relentlessly by these groups.  Auspiciously, they found refuge with the UNIT, with the Paranormal Time Lord creating his own Paranormal Investigations group, classified as Supernatural Taskforce Alien Research—or STAR.

Dustin recalled Fanger usually requiring his help when there were intradimensional problems. Nonetheless, as Dustin and Harrison perceived, that was then, and this was now.  But the Fandraelian still was puzzled over why Torchwood had launched an assault upon Jidai and Harrison.  As far as anyone had known, the Faction Paradox was never considered a hazard towards the Institute.  That is, until Harrison indicated some rogue agents had started making trouble for the dubious organisation.

                ‘The LM-Faction—Porte D’Crânes—have their own agenda from the true Faction. They’ve now embroiled the Institute into their War in Heaven and Spiral Politic. Sensei and myself have no ties in this. However..’ he hesitated momentarily. ‘ The Cal’Del..’

               

                ‘Calm, Harrison,’ Dustin secretly witnessed Harrison’s fury when Jidai was attacked by Torchwood. ‘Dylan shall be punished soon enough.’ Nonchalantly raising his left hand, he activated his gauntlet’s azure gem.  By flipping his palm upwards, he summoned a sapphire phial. ‘For now, it’s imperative getting Jidai Sakugo back upon his feet.’

                Harrison cautiously inspected the dubious artefact.  Ancient, intricate symbols were neatly etched upon its crystalline surface, it also appeared tethered by organic vines.  The ornate top indicated this was not some prescription one could obtain from the local apothecary.  Nor could the Fandraelian produce this through molecular reconstruction.  On closer examination, Harrison acknowledged the phial’s contents.

                Resembling liquid cobalt, the substance possessed an ambiguous nature.  Upon inquiry, Harrison was informed by Dustin the serum was the only effective treatment for Jidai’s Magnalite Poisoning.

                ‘Just how does one administer this serum?’ Harrison knew his Sensei rarely imbibed any potions, or medications, unless they were perfectly safe for consumption.  And he seriously doubted Jidai would readily accept it intravenously.

                Dustin’s crimson-amethyst gem illuminated from his right gauntlet.  Slightly flipping his right palm upwards, he produced what appeared to be an icicle.  Except this icicle was perfectly-shaped, practically flawless, and unaffected by the outside temperatures.

                From the untrained eye, one could’ve easily mistaken the device as a primeval weapon.  Harrison’s research, however, identified it as a J’Dar—a specialised, medical instrument—once used by the Clanstribes before modernised medicine.

                ‘The Sa’loc is an extremely potent elixir.’ Dustin explained while holding the J’Dar over the phial. ‘One must dilute it before administering it.’

                ‘Dilute..’ Harrison speculated upon what the Fandraelian was implying.

                ‘Anything will do, Harrison,’ Dustin glanced at the chilled container the young man was holding.

                Naturally, Harrison defensively gripped it, reluctantly accepting the concept of doctoring Jidai’s nourishment.  For one thing, he wasn’t certain what the Sa’loc would do to his Sensei.   It was bad enough the Paradox Fangarian was recovering from Magnalite Poisoning, and he didn’t want to make the situation worse.

                At this point, Harrison feared the Fandraelian might attempt to persuade him into using the serum.  Consequently, Dustin performed something the young man had hardly imagined he’d do in a million years.

                ‘Here,’ Dustin promptly handed the phial and J’Dar to him. ‘Think of it as Rosh’Dal.’

                Harrison almost dropped the container.  Rosh’Dal was a sacred contract indeed.  He knew no Clanstribe just readily established such a thing, unless they were truly sincere.  And desired to acquire one’s trust.  Slowly placing the container upon his belt, Harrison gingerly accepted the offering.

                ‘You administer the Sa’loc.’

                Harrison once again inspected the phial, then the J’Dar.

                ‘Not to worry,’ Dustin assured, ‘the J’Dar’s not been tampered with in any form or fashion. It’s been programmed for extracting and administering the correct dosage.’

                ‘So I use the J’Dar on the phial?’

                Dustin nodded. ‘As I said, the Sa’loc’s a potent elixir, the only way to handle it is through hypodermic transfer.’

                Harrison formulated the rest of the method. ‘Ah, so,’ he held up the J’Dar. ‘Afterwards I inject the serum into Sensei’s nourishment.’

                The Fandraelian bowed approvingly. ‘Afterwards, shake the container before giving it to your Sensei. Make sure he imbibes every drop. The Sa’loc should take effect instantly.’

                Harrison couldn’t help raising a quizzical eyebrow at his guest.  He perceived Fandraelians weren’t simply good Samaritans when it came to giving out mystic remedies.  However, his etiquette forewarned him about directly questioning Dustin’s gift.

                ‘Da’Sahn,’ he humbly closed his eyes. ‘Not that I’m ungrateful.’ He then stared at the Fandraelian. ‘But one speculates on your assistance, especially with my Sensei’s recovery.’

                Eyes crackling with azure force, Dustin created a holographic sphere.  Fissures of amethyst and crimson materialised on its surface, almost giving the illusion the sphere was about to shatter.  ‘The ChronoSpheric Dimensions, in relation to the Pan-Dimensions, are gradually deteriorating, causing possible damage to the Multiversal Timeline. Fanger’s been completely removed from our Universe—Universe-Prime—and Jidai’s temporarily out-of-commission.’

                ‘Affirmative,’ Harrison now comprehended the assault on his Sensei.  Even with Fanger out-of-the-way, Jidai Sakugo could establish Back Paradoxes for preventing the multi-dimensional crisis. ‘You surmise Cillian and the Cal’Del are responsible, Da’Sahn?’

                ‘Difficult to say,’ Dustin narrowed his eyes. ‘I doubt Dylan knows about this, but I’ve heard forgotten rumours about several others. But what I do know is someone’s gone to incredible lengths for keeping the Little One and Jidai temporarily out-of-the-picture.’ Of course, he knew two displaced Wolf-Beings were the least of their problems. ‘Unless some balance’s restored, we’ll be dealing with major anomalies, even beyond the Faction’s control.’

                The image instantly dispersed as Dustin’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar scent.  One he hadn’t quite expected on encountering this soon.

                ‘The Doctor’s here,’ he grimly frowned, despite the fact he was hardly surprised.  Consequently, he never anticipated the Time Lord would end up here.  At least he thought The Doctor might end up in his store, or somewhere close within the vicinity.

                ‘Affirmative,’ Harrison confirmed. ‘He arrived several minutes ago, he’s with Dr. Habuki in the Main Chamber.’

                Washu? Dustin realised she probably hijacked the TARDIS, since he was certain he didn’t program the destination.  Sighing disdainfully, the Fandraelian suspected this wasn’t going to be a pleasant reunion.

                Harrison, on the other hand, gazed briefly at the phial and J’Dar, then at the hyperbolic chamber.  Secretly, he hoped Dustin’s elixir would cure Jidai’s affliction.  Sands orbiting over his Sensei’s body, he wanted Jidai’s recovery to be expedient.  Before the circumstances started going beyond everyone’s control.

Confined within an energon pod, the young, dark-haired figure found himself suspended in mid-air.  Arms held tight by manacles composed of pure light, the only movement he mustered up was flexing his dark hands and defiantly flicking his tail.  The sharp, prickling sensation came from the bulky apparatus fettered round his neck.  Psi-Dampener—as it was known—nevertheless primitive, was ultimately effective against someone like him.  Basically it literally drew the PK Force from his body and dispersed it out from its cone-shaped node behind his neck.  Even his physical strength had been drained by it, since it was taking everything he could assemble, just to remain conscious.  But at times his mind kept slipping.  Back into the memories of how he had gotten himself into this mess in the first place.

Blue-bandanna and brown-eyed, he was known by most as Sephiroth, but his true name was Dylan.  Clandestinely, he was a Cal’Del member.  He still never apprehended how he had wound up being imprisoned.  The mission he was assigned was rather simple enough:  deceive Torchwood agents into believing Jidai Sakugo and Harrison were dangerous terrorists.  Realising Fanger would never join his cause, he had sagely decided the next best thing would be recruiting the Paradox Fangarian.

                Therefore no one would ever dare question his Cal’Del loyalty again.  Even with its founders now missing for several centuries, the Cal’Del remnants would be impressed with his acquisition.  Especially when Dylan-Sephiroth threw in some hapless Torchwood agents as a bonus.  Despite Gallifrey being dead and gone, Earth proved excellent for the Cal’Del’s Reconstruction.  He considered Fanger rather imprudent for the Convocation, since he felt his Primlan was suited for better things.  He never understood why the Little One kept assisting the Time Lords.  All they did was repress the existing Clanstribes, and almost wiped them out in the Great War.

                Nevertheless, Dylan-Sephiroth was so engrossed with his own devices, he had overlooked the simplicity of the best laid plans of Wolf-Beings and men.

                Essentially, all he wanted was disabling Jidai and Harrison.  He perceived dealing with Paradox Agents wasn’t quite like dealing with your average, run-of-the-mill Paranormals.  Not to mention Jidai was primarily Fanger’s Paradox Incarnate.  From his Past experiences, Dylan knew his Primlan was more than a challenge.  But with all his meticulous planning, he overlooked one Universal fact:  the annoying reality Tellurians are rather impulsive creatures.

Apparently some geniuses at the Institute had discovered Magnalite as an effective deterrent against Paranormals.  That is, if Jidai and Harrison were Level Two Paranormals, with Homer Simpson’s IQ.  It was no problem luring the Paradox Agents into the abandon warehouse.  At least Torchwood had the means for creating an ersatz Paradox Machine, convincing Jidai Sakugo they were going to use Houston as an unauthorised ParaChronal Station.

                Sagely, Dylan-Sephiroth had intended on ensnaring them with a Dimensional Net.  The result would simple place them in-between dimensions, immobilising them without harm.  Regrettably, all Torchwood knew was the antiquated motto: ‘Shoot first, ask questions later.’

                Consequently, one overzealous solider had fired his Magnalite rifle when Jidai had gotten into range.  Whenever struck by an intense blast, a Paranormal is usually rendered unconscious from the shock alone.  Jidai Sakugo had proven he was anything but, as he had screamed in pain, falling directly to his knees.

                Big mistake, since Harrison simultaneously felt his Sensei’s anguish.

                Dylan had felt as if he had suddenly been caught within a slow-motion film.  Harrison’s eyes fiercely crackled as he had pinpointed the ones behind the assault.  Once he had removed his glasses, Harrison had promptly darted about the warehouse.  Torchwood Agents had stupidly begun firing wildly about the place.  Furiously, Dylan had utilised all his skills and attributes just for avoiding a stray Magnalite bolt.  Holding stundiscs at fore, he had wondered why it hadn’t dawned on these idiots for securing Jidai first, then concern themselves over Harrison.  At least the Cal’Del were efficiently organized enough for dealing with both before any disaster could occur.  From his personal observations, Tellurians had this appalling penchant for executing poorly-made decisions.

                In fact, the battle had ceased before it really had commenced.  Inexplicably, Harrison had deftly dispatched the soldiers without blinking an eye.  Judging from their convulsions and paralysis, Dylan had alleged the young man had implemented a venomous onslaught.  He couldn’t help covertly admiring Harrison’s handiwork.  Before reaching Jidai, however, Dylan had performed another tactical error.  He had completely forgotten about Harrison, but the young man had not forgotten about him.

                Dylan had instantly froze in his track when Harrison adamantly blocked his path.  No longer did the young man appear debonair as before, as his three-piece suit was gone.  Shedding it, his suit was replaced with a dark blue shirt, leather jacket, pants and boots.  Glasses missing, Harrison even sported stubble round his face.  Lightning bioglyph pulsing, his emerald eyes fiercely burning.

                ‘You,’ he icily hissed through glistening fangs. ‘You’re responsible for my Sensei’s harm…’

                Dylan had then realised his other fatal error.  He had established eye-contact with his adversary.  Eyes interlocked, the young man had immobilised Dylan.

Meanwhile, a strange fog had subtly entered the warehouse, and was moving stealthy against the marble floor.  Inexplicably, thunderstorms had materialised overhead, plunging the warehouse into complete darkness.  Blue-violet lightning had begun dancing with electric force, orchestrating forgotten mists and intense winds.

                Gathering where Jidai had fallen, ancient energies had transformed themselves into a mantric vortex.  The tempest increased more and more until its intensity had exploded with an astronomical force of sapphire and amethyst.

                The fog subtly disassembled itself, settling down upon the floor, as it had revealed a new figure where Jidai had once stood.

                Resembling the Paradox Fangarian, he possessed dark violet hair.  His skin was ice blue, with intricate bioglyphs etched upon his face, arms and neck.  Gone was the leather jacket, as the being was now sheathed within black: T-Shirt, pants and boots.

                The F-Clanscrest was also missing, but the being had other distinguishing items.  One was the eccentric article upon his right arm:  a gauntlet fashioned from a dark-liquid metal.  Over its glove section, there neatly set an orb enclosing limitless forces.

                The other was the markings upon the man’s forehead.  Producing the illusion of a headband, its centre bore a an inverted, equilateral triangle, which was precisely divided into two.

Dylan-Sephiroth had witnessed the transformation, just as Harrison was about to pounce.  Eyes incredulously widening, the Cal’Del Agent had hardly believed his luck.  According to the Tombeurian Legends, there were only specific entities which had bore such bioglyphs.  During his Gallifreyan service, Dylan had always considered them as purely-mythical beings.  Throughout his experiences, he had never once dreamed he’d actually encountered one.  Not that he had any true desire to at this exact moment.  From what he learned about them, Dylan had felt he’d a better chance with Harrison’s wrath, than what this being might have planned.

Tail with strands of purple, against a sapphire sea, flicked slightly in the darkness.  Eyes snapping open, they revealed an intensely, mesmerising blue.  Bioglyphs coming to life, they pulsed with ethereal force.  Instantaneously, Harrison had automatically ceased his defensive stance over Dylan.  With his eyes suffused blue, the young man instinctively stood at the attention.  Harrison had formed an enraptured smile upon his face.

                ‘Maelstrom,’ he intoxicatingly identified, without even having to turn round to face the being.

Maelstrom. Rapt fascination battled consternation and trepidation, as Dylan’s mind had logically considered it not exactly earth-shattering.  Effectively, if Fanger had TimeStorm, then obviously Jidai Sakugo would have Maelstrom.  Yet, he had never figured Jidai might invoke this entity quite so soon.

                ‘Harrison,’ Maelstrom’s voice resonated, almost shaking the entire structure.  Reaching out his left arm, he beckoned to the young man.  Gripping his left hand, it had seemed if he was grasping at invisible, marionette strings.  Pulling Harrison towards him, Maelstrom had made him float backwards.  As Harrison stopped next to him, the being had smiled, admiring the young man’s attire. ‘Like the ensemble,’ he placed his hand upon the young man’s shoulder. ‘But why don’t I make a slight revision..’ Softly blowing upon Harrison, Maelstrom transformed the jacket into a leather suit coat.  He then gently kissed the young man’s head. ‘There. Exceptionally bold.’

                ‘Ricem,’ Harrison enchantingly rested his head on Maelstrom’s shoulder. ‘Sensei…’

                ‘Sonno,’ Maelstrom delicately uttered, waving his right hand over the young man’s face. ‘You’ve quite a day.’ His eyes shifted towards Dylan. ‘I desire an audience with our new interloper.’

                Eyes closed, Harrison was now standing next to Maelstrom in peaceful slumber.

                Dylan-Sephiroth had desperately wanted to leave, but his powers were not only failing him, he had discovered he no longer could move.  Muscles locked in place, he bafflingly had been transformed into a living statue.

                ‘Do not bother,’ Maelstrom stared at Dylan. ‘You’re muscles won’t respond to your orders.’

         

Before Dylan had completely realised how dangerous the circumstances were, Maelstrom had already aimed his gauntlet towards the agent.  Crackling with mystical force, the gauntlet’s orb then flared with great intensity.  Bioelectricity had suddenly emerged from it, heading directly at Dylan.  Rather than electrocuting him, the lightning had ensnared him.  Afterwards, it automatically reeled him in towards Maelstrom.

                Disoriented, Dylan-Sephiroth’s eyes had established contact with Maelstrom’s steel gaze.  Brown eyes transmogrified into deep sapphire, he had helplessly felt all control slip away from his body.

                ‘Maelstrom,’ he enchantingly spoke, receiving a satisfactory smile from the entity.

                Raising his gauntlet up to Dylan’s face, Maelstrom gently stroked the agent’s face with its gem.

                ‘Feel the caress of the ParaChron,’ the gem blazed as he gradually brought it down against Dylan’s face.  The agent experienced its power permeate every molecule of his body and soul. ‘Become synonymous with me.’

                Flesh-tones converting to ice-blue, Dylan’s skin felt the bioglyphs etch themselves upon his face and body.

                ‘Perfect..’ Maelstrom had monitored the newly-transformed agent.  Except for his ebony hair, Dylan had almost become Maelstrom’s twin. ‘Forgive the dramatics, but I do prefer this over the archaic inquisition.’

                Minds completely synchronised, Dylan had felt the entity’s presence enter his thoughts and experiences.  Maelstrom had established direct brain access, enabling him to instantly learn everything about his acquisition.

                Cal’Del…Maelstrom frowned, telepathically registering Dylan-Sephiroth.  Did not realise I warranted such attention... Former Fangarian as well…Narrowing his eyes, he acted as if he had been searching for something.  Locating the infodata, he grinned as he read the mythical data pertaining to himself.  So, Cal’Del—Dylan-Sephiroth—You are aware of me and my kind.. I’m contented knowing I’ve not been forgotten after many centuries.. His smile faded slightly, giving Dylan an astonished expression. Rather impressed.. still.. I cannot help speculate over which.. your courage… He then had sharply glared at the agent. Or, your sheer idiocy…

      Maelstrom had fiercely expelled sapphire beams into Dylan’s eyes.

                ‘ARE YOU NOT PERCEPTIVE OF YOUR CIRCUMSTANCE?!’ Maelstrom wrathfully growled. ‘I’M NOT SOME TRUMPED UP ANCIENT, NOR AN OVEREGOTISTICAL, SUPERFICIAL, HIGHLY-CONFIDIENT PARANORMAL! CURRENTLY, YOU’RE EXPERIENCING A MERE TENTH OF MY STRENGTH, LEST YOU’D BE MOLECULARLY DECONSTRUCTED AND SCATTERED ENDLESS ACROSS THE INFINITE DIMENSIONS THEMSELVES!’ Fangs glistening with venom, he hissed deeply. ‘SO CEASE YOUR FUTILE RESISTANCE, OR I SHALL FORGET MY RESTRAINT, IF NOT MY PATIENCE..’

      Dylan had horrifyingly complied, not desiring Maelstrom’s wrath, as he had relinquished all thoughts and desires to his captor.

                Afterwards, Maelstrom had given the agent a more calming smile. ‘You see?’ He had softly uttered. ‘When you co-operate, I can be most accommodating.. now then..’ Walking behind the immobile agent, he hauntingly whispered. ‘Consider this equation, Cal’Del Sephiroth:  if the Little One had refused enlisting with your organisation, what possible notion was there for you conceiving Jidai Sakugo would do otherwise?’

                Dylan had remained absolutely stationary while Maelstrom continued.

                ‘Though one cannot help being impressed why you’d consider Jidai Sakugo. Exceptionally proficient, and definitely proves being more of an invaluable asset than liability…’ he stared accusingly at the agent. ‘Yet, in your alacrity, you failed comprehending some minor obstacles. One, the Faction Paradox. From what I know, they despise the Cal’Del more than the Time Lords and Torchwood themselves.’ Walking round Dylan, he had faced him. ‘The Institute… yes… Did you actually envision they’d simply permit you the spoils of victory?’ He scanned the ground of fallen soldiers. ‘I seriously doubt so.’ He focused his attention back on Dylan. ‘But there’s one critical factor you ultimately neglected.’ Maelstrom had whispered once more in his ear. ‘Jidai Sakugo would never concede to your selfish, irrational and insignificant agenda.’

                Acknowledging Dylan’s lips attempting motion, Maelstrom sensed the agent was desperately wanting to respond.

                ‘Speak.’ He melodiously instructed.

                ‘I… I..’ Dylan had felt his vocal chords were tightening.  The words had already been orchestrated in his mind, however, transposing thoughts into speech was proving somewhat of a challenge to him. ‘Did.. not…’

                ‘Of course, you didn’t,’ Maelstrom sarcastically concluded, now standing before the agent. ‘Your thoughtlessness has only succeeded in the endangerment of Jidai Sakugo.’ His smile started fading once more. ‘Harrison should’ve been permitted some retribution, but as we both can perceive, the process essentially would’ve been futile.’ Fangs tingling with anticipation, he approached the agent.

                Marionette strings being manipulated, Dylan had felt himself automatically lifting his head.  Maelstrom had wasted no time seizing his victim.

                ‘Thus, I’ve determined,’ Acquiring the scent of Dylan’s neck, Maelstrom casually parted his lips slightly. ‘I’ve a better means of compensation..’ He intended on enjoying his next move.  Particularly since it had been several millennia since he had enthralled anyone, let alone some disillusioned Wolf-Being.

               

Dylan-Sephiroth recalled with his muscles locked in place, all he was able to do was close his eyes and await the inevitable.  That is, if someone hadn’t intervened in time.

                ‘Maelstrom!’

                Spell weakened by the female voice, Dylan had regained control of his eyes.  Opening them, he had acknowledged the familiar, spiked-hair girl operating her ether laptop.  Another inexplicable event had been the arrival of Washu Habuki.  Dylan had ascertained she hadn’t been involved in the assault.  Otherwise, the soldiers would’ve been genetically altered into less threatening creatures.  Apparently, Dylan had theorized she was once again performing damage control.

                Despite this secluded location, eventually the authorities would be notified, since this place lacked sound dampeners.  No doubt some idiot might’ve noticed Maelstrom’s illuminations and perhaps mistook him for a burglar.  Nevertheless, Washu knew if Torchwood’s activities were discovered, it’d attract some major, unwarranted attention.  And Houston, Texas, was not exactly a locale for secrecy as one might have assumed.

                ‘Though I find your process fascinating,’ Washu dutifully noted, working on her equations. ‘You may have forgotten, Jidai Sakugo’s critically injured. Enthrallment’s not quite the efficient option.’

                Regaining his senses, Maelstrom had cautiously moved away from Dylan.  Frowning slightly, he had straightened the agent’s head.

                ‘Apologies.’ He had innocently smiled. ‘Seems my impulses have impeded my judgment, if not foreshadowing practicality.’

       ‘Not a problem,’ she dismissively replied. ‘Happens to the best us, I fear.’ Utilising her laptop, she had been conducting a local scan. ‘Seems Harrison dispatched the Torchwood militia. No worries, though,’ she had been inspecting their BioScans.  ‘They’ll live. Our main problem is Mr. Sephiroth. Can’t exactly leave him behind, now can we?’

                Just as Maelstrom was about to respond, the unexpected had occurred.

Bioelectric forces had sparked violently over the being’s body, as if Maelstrom had acquired a short-circuit.  Within an explosion of iridescent force, the entity had reverted back into Jidai Sakugo.  Before the Paradox Fangarian had fallen, Washu had immediately caught him inside a SuspensCapsule.  She had programmed the initial healing procedure, producing sands inside the capsule.

                As Maelstrom had vanished, Dylan-Sephiroth had discovered the enchantment was no longer effective.  Acquiring his freedom, he had not wasted his opportunity for escape.  Except once again, he had overlooked one crucial element as he planned on leaving the warehouse.

                ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Arms folded, still wearing his new attire, Harrison had been leaning against the wall.  Awaiting Dylan, the young man had sagely eliminated all possible exits.  Secretly extracting his claws, Dylan was prepared for a fight.  There was no way he’d let Harrison take him down.  Curiously, Harrison did not enter into defensive mode as the agent had expected.  Instead he had calmly reached into his leather coat’s inner pocket.  The young man had produced an extremely curious item.

                From his observations, Dylan had determined it was one of those rechargeable pocket torches these Tellurians were incessantly fond of.  Specifically during intense storm conditions.  He scowled, wondering what damage could a pocket torch perform upon him.  Consequently, when Harrison held the gadget at fore, the agent knew the device wasn’t innocent as it had appeared.

                Harrison activated it, strobing the dual lights directly into Dylan’s eyes.  Without warning, the agent’s nervous system had instantly reacted, causing Dylan to fall upon his knees.

                ‘Now then,’ Harrison confirmed, returning the gadget back into his pocket. ‘Since you wanted my Sensei to serve you, I feel it’s only just you serve my Sensei.’  Narrowing his eyes at Dylan, he vehemently continued. ‘More specifically, you shall.. no.. you will assist with my Sensei’s recovery.’ Eyes flashing, he had gained an intriguing thought. ‘By simply this, Dylan-Sephiroth: You will provide essential nourishment for Jidai Sakugo.’ The words  reverberated inside Dylan’s mind, commanding him to obey.  Meanwhile, Harrison offhandedly witnessed Washu operating her laptop. ‘But first, you will assist Dr. Habuki and myself with the soldiers.’

               

The last memory Dylan had recollected was the sound of Harrison’s fingers snapping, just before sinking into never-ending darkness.

Cool breezes teleporting him back within his energon prison, Dylan-Sephiroth observed the dim-lights flickering randomly about the room.  Still feeling the restraints and Psi-Dampener, he knew this predicament was rather all too real.  Slightly moving his arms, he had imprudently considered the possibly of the containment field weakening.  Regrettably, it was still as powerful as when he had first awakened within this container.

Subtle antiseptic scent had invaded his nose, his pectoral muscles were experiencing slight throbbing.  Dylan-Sephiroth had found himself returning back to the brink of consciousness.

                Despite the brief discomfort, he was also experiencing an abnormal sensation.  Though he sensed the gravitational forces of Earth, Dylan felt himself floating, yet, his arms were extended forward.  Locked in place, he realised he couldn’t move them.  Not like he was struggling, but they appeared as if they were completely unresponsive to his wishes.  Even his legs were suffering the same malady, but fortunately they were closed.  Ruling out being placed in an anatomical study, Dylan had determined he was being held somewhere.

                The only physical movement he had acquired was his tail.  Flicking it, he had determined he wasn’t in a typical cell.  Opening his eyes, he witnessed the fluctuating energy field before him.  He then noticed his arms were shackled by the same, exact force, but converted into light.  Though he wasn’t certain how long he had been encapsulated, his goatee and long-hair claimed he had been imprisoned for some time.  Nonetheless, Dylan could not ascertain his precise location.  Other than his containment field, he only viewed the endless darkness. 

                Another mystery was him feeling something heavy round his neck.  Instinctively, he attempted going beyond this limitation by infravision.  Consequently, at the instant Dylan concentrated, an abrupt surge coursed throughout his body, followed by a tingling sensation behind his neck.  Identifying the remarkable fetter, he had wasted no time orchestrating the ambiguous pieces.

                Deducing he was ensnared in a specialised containment field, Dylan recalled these had been used during the Great War.  Mainly for holding his people, the Ancients, and the Time Lords, he never fathomed he’d ever be placed in one of these.  And he had been in countless prisons before, not to mention, once being sent to Dragard.

                The only curious object not fitting the equation was the black cloth sheathed neatly over his chest and torso.  Regardless of the dim-lighting, Dylan noticed the lifeless connections protruding from the outfit.  Before deciphering the disturbing enigma, he had become engulfed by an explosion of lights.

                Holographic screens started materialising about the immense place, crackling with life, orbiting his reformatory.  Dylan witnessed an endless assortment of machines, devices, computers and other contraptions.  From what he gathered, he had ended up  within some advanced laboratory.  Taking into account their acquisitions, Dylan-Sephiroth knew this definitely wasn’t Torchwood.  First off, they’d never have anything this sophisticated without some outsider learning about it.  Not to mention their budgets could barely afford one-tenth of this complex.  And if he recalled, Harrison had dispatched Torchwood Jacinto’s soldiers. 

                No, this possessed a hauntingly-familiar atmosphere.  He felt as if he was back in the Days of the Academy, when he also had attended the Prydonian like his cousin.  Except its architectural configuration was transdimensional.  Not quite TARDISesque in nature, but Dylan acknowledged the place severely lacked the typical, three-dimensional limitations.

                ‘Wakey-wakey,’ a voice snapped him out of his contemplation. ‘Seems you’ve been quite a busy man, Sleeping Beauty.’

                Eyes focusing, Dylan recognised Dustin’s ninjistu attire, headband and bioglyphs.  Perplexed, the agent pondered over how the Fandraelian had gotten involved.  Dustin, on the other hand, seemed more preoccupied with the containment field than its captive. 

                ‘Exceptional construct,’ Dustin casually walked round the energon sphere. ‘Almost like the ParaCouncil’s…’

                ‘What do you mean “almost?”’ Washu appeared at the Central Area, operating on her etherpad. ‘It’s exactly like theirs. Who do you think designed their SuspensOrbs?’

                ‘Hmm..’ Dustin realised she was correct.  The ParaCouncil didn’t exactly deal with your average criminal, meaning normal conventional incarceration held no bearing.  Only someone like Washu knew you needed special containment fields for dealing with fiendish Paranormals and entities.  He frowned, examining the prisoner. ‘Not that I’m saying he doesn’t deserve it, but isn’t this a bit much for Dylan? Cillian, I understand, but Dylan?’

                ‘Name’s… SEPHIROTH..’ Dylan venomously hissed through clenched fangs.

                Dustin’s eyes flashed as he slowly turned back towards Dylan.  Azure set against sapphire, his eyes revealed his concealed emotions.

                ‘I’m Da’Sahn Dr’Kar,’ he flatly stated. ‘However, I’m also known as Dustin Drinkard, because despite my unearthly background—DYLAN—I’ve the sense enough keeping my Gallifreyan identity a secret.’

                ‘Your.. point?’

                Dustin wryly smiled. ‘Considering you’re practically on everyone’s hit list,’ he glanced briefly over at Harrison. ‘Including the Faction Paradox’s, you might re-consider advertising your so-called alliance.’

                As much as he hated admitting it, Dylan-Sephiroth realised the Fandraelian was correct.

                The Cal’Del didn’t exactly have associates throughout the galaxy, not to mention Gallifrey.  Dylan-Sephiroth was hardly any exception.  His infamous reputation had expanded from the Corinthian Clanstribe to the Daleks and F-Clones themselves.  Even the Shadow Proclamation and ParaCouncil had outstanding warrants for his immediate arrest and execution.  Meaning if they knew Dylan had been causing trouble for Earth, the agent’s life would be hardly worth his Past selves.

                ‘Putting it bluntly,’ Washu added, continuing typing on her etherpad. ‘Cal’Del nomenclature has no real validity here.’

                ‘So…’ Dylan weakly spoke. ‘You.. you intend.. on turning me.. in?’

                Dustin exasperatedly sighed, wondering why the most infamous always ended up being the most ignorant as well.

                ‘Pardon his stupidity, Da’Sahn,’ Harrison responded, pushing back his new, oval, slim-lined glasses. ‘I suspect it’s due to the temporal hypnosis and hunger.’

                Dustin clarified Harrison and Washu had wasted no time contacting him after the incident.

                Performing damage control, the Fandraelian had utilised his dimensional capabilities for reconstructing the warehouse.  Specifically because nobody wanted the Houston Police, nor Torchwood Jacinto, discovering this disaster.

                ‘Essentially,’ Washu broke in. ‘You’re a political criminal, Dylan, than some run-of-the-mill, intergalactic terrorist.’ Personally she knew the agent had been responsible for Kagato and Jurai’s planetary dilemmas.  Salerion’s plans were proof enough for that, including Ryoko almost launching an all-out assault on Dylan. ‘One could say the ParaCouncil and Shadow Proclamation have their agendas currently full with more important matters. But that would be a gross oversight, wouldn’t you agree?’

                Dylan-Sephiroth hesitated.  He knew Washu was correct.

                The Cal’Del had gotten embroiled with infinite projects, it was extremely difficult categorising them all.  Being one of the top operatives, Dylan hadn’t exactly made acquaintances with half the Universe.  He had comprehended his earlier miscalculation.  Even if the Fandraelian did take him in to the ParaCouncil, or Shadow Proclamation, the operative would endlessly become stuck in holding just for the red tape alone.

                ‘Then why…’ Dylan failed apprehending Dustin’s visit.

                ‘Minor formality,’ Dustin noted. ‘Technically, I’m the Fandraelian rep for the ParaCouncil and I’m simply officiating the transaction of sorts.’

                ‘Trans…’

                ‘You now belong to the Faction, Dylan,’ Harrison coolly affirmed. ‘And as such, we can do whatever we desire with you.’

                ‘I’m no..’

                ‘But you are, Dylan. Upon launching the assault upon my Sensei, you forfeited all your freedom.’ He glared accusingly at him. ‘However, there’s a proper protocol, even for the likes of you.’

                Dustin sensed Harrison’s repressed fury, realising he’d better prevent another incident.  Though Washu had successfully neutralised Dylan’s powers, she might have not countered on dealing with a Paradox’s rage.

                ‘Here’s the thing,’ Dustin calmly vindicated. ‘Although the ParaCouncil does not permit unequivocal slavery, there is the matter of what one might denote as.. “community service.”’

                ‘Given your record,’ Washu somberly noted. ‘The Faction Paradox would rarely want you as an acting member. However, you do owe Jidai Sakugo some compensation.’

Dylan had now vaguely recalled what Harrison had said earlier.  About providing Jidai with nourishment.  He suspected something when Washu had summoned forth that contraption.

Manipulating holographic controls, Washu had produced a dimensional pocket.

                ‘Time for breakfast, I believe.’

                Rising upwards from the pocket, a metallic storage unit appeared.  Checking the connections, Washu traced it back towards Dylan’s odd outfit.

                ‘Good thing I had some nutrigen stocked from Kiyone’s ship.’ Washu performed a brief diagnostic scan. ‘The equipment’s still in functional order. Considering the time constraints, I wasn’t certain if this antiquated device would hold up.’ Operating the holographic keypad, she caused the vacuum-sealed door to open with a resounding hiss.  Frost vapour escaped into the atmosphere, revealing inside several metal phials connected to a main pump.  Extracting one of the phials, Washu inspected its contents.  Inside was a miniscule amount of a milky substance.  Usually these phials were filled to the brim, but he realised why they were currently bone-dry.

                ‘Yes,’ Washu replaced the phial, sealing the container, she turned towards her captive. ‘Definitely, time for breakfast.’ 

Dylan secretly hated what had occurred next, vividly recalling the distasteful experience.  No matter how many times it had been performed on him, the first time had been burned deep within his memory.

Operating another set of holographic controls, Washu had produced a small tube.  Penetrating the energon pod, it snaked towards Dylan’s face.  Striking with precision, it forced its way into the being’s mouth, fitting snuggly between Dylan’s lips.

                Adamantly, he placed his tongue against the tube’s opening, anticipating Washu might have to force-feed him.  Regrettably, he never comprehended Washu’s resourcefulness, as she casually activated the MedPad.  Dylan watched as an injection unit had hovered down towards his forearm.  Automatically, the unit morphed a band round Dylan’s forearm, while its open slot awaited for its medication.

                Washu observed the rows of ampoules presented before her. ‘Andrileximin ought to remedy your problem,’ she selected the orange one, bringing it towards her.  Examining it momentarily, she then twisted the ampoule’s dial. ‘Best give you a minimum dosage, I’d hate you to become ravenous in the process.’ Replacing it in mid-air, she immediately transferred the ampoule directly into the slot, administering the drug into her captive.

                Feeling the ampoule’s sting, Dylan’s body stiffened slightly.  Intense sensations overcame his body, making his tongue falter against the tube.  He discovered he was now anxiously sucking the feeding tube like a straw.

                Dylan-Sephiroth now understood it was pointless defying her.  And he thought Harrison was frightening.

                Satisfied with the ampoule’s potent effects, Washu activated another function with the holographic controls.

                Creamy-thick paste expediently coursed through the feeding tube, reaching Dylan’s lips without fail.  The bland custard actually tasted like stale, vanilla pudding.  But the Andrileximin in his system insisted the substance was pure ambrosia.

                Washu monitored Dylan’s biological functions, while Harrison approvingly observed the agent voraciously consuming the meal.

                Dustin had incredibly found the experience rather intriguing.  He knew the Fandraelians ritualistically performed something similar for their ancient ceremonies, but he never expected witnessing a modernised version of the procedure.

                Surprisingly, the process ended as swiftly as it had begun, while Washu noticed Dylan had drained every nutrigen packet within several minutes.  Once the packets were devoid of their filling, the feeding tube released its hold over its captive.  Next came the small tubes, blowing and extracting any residual substance from Dylan’s lips, before they returned to their proper place.

                ‘Okay,’ Washu inspected the BioScan, ‘Harrison, you may begin the metabolic process.’

                Taking off his glasses, Harrison approached the energon orb.  Without hesitation, Harrison pressed his palms against the energon barrier.  Breaching the pod’s layer, his hands established contact with Dylan’s chest.  Maintaining direct eye contact, he wasted no time accelerating the agent’s metabolism.  Advantageously he processed the nutrigen Dylan had consumed into the lactic substance required.  Dylan felt his lactose glands swell up, as if they were automatically filling up by themselves.

                ‘Okay,’ Washu nodded. ‘Dylan’s ready for extraction.’

                Harrison withdrew his grip, as the black pump attached to Dylan had sprung to life.  The pump caused his pectorals to pulsate wildly, as if he was a bodybuilder showing off his new physique.  Consequently, the grimacing reaction borne upon his face indicated this was no picnic for Dylan.

                Hissing sounds emanated from the extraction device, awakening the silver canister from its dormant state.  Iridescent forces surged round the canister, as the lactose substance coursed rapidly through the hose, and into the processing system.

                Dustin seemed somewhat impressed with this demonstration, as he heard the telepathic protests coming from Dylan.

                ‘Actually, Dylan,’ Dustin somberly admitted. ‘This is far humane than most alternatives. My own Clanstribe, in fact, would’ve readily extracted your DNA, before DimenShattering you. Just be grateful you only have to do this twice a week.’

                The pump continued its task, until it had acquired his last drop of milk, then the black apparatus had instantly deactivated itself.

                ‘There,’ Washu tapped on some holographic keys. The silver canister returned to its peaceful, dormant state.  Reopening it, the canister’s phials were now completely full.  She brought forth another odd artefact.

                Composed of a metal alloy, it appeared as if someone had  combined a thermos and sports bottle.  On top of the cylindrical object was a curved straw, which seemed to be sealed at the moment.  Touching one of the inset controls, Washu slid open a compartment revealing a small indentation.  Selecting one of the phials, she placed it into the shape.  Making the proper connections, the cylinder held the phial tightly before sealing itself.  She smiled approvingly at the device before giving it to Harrison.

                ‘I suspect it’s time for Jidai’s breakfast as well,’ she instructed. ‘Make certain he consumes every drop.’

                Harrison nodded before leaving the complex.

                As for Dylan, Washu claimed he was probably tired after the process. Touching a button, Dylan’s body suddenly had gone limp, and the energon sphere’s illumination faded into its dim atmosphere.

                It was the last memory Dylan had recalled during that moment.

               

‘So, Sephiroth,’ a voice shattered him from his memories. ‘I had heard you had gotten yourself within a spot of trouble, but I hardly expected this.’

                Reluctantly, Dylan-Sephiroth had opened his eyes.  Mixed emotions flooded his body as we wasn’t certain what to make of his unexpected guest.  Decked in a silver hoodie and sweatpants, with cobalt cuffs, the figure flicked his tail. 

                ‘Ah,’ his serpentine eyes and bioglyphs emitted a mauve glow. ‘A Lactose Induction-Extraction Unit.’ He identified the contraption. ‘Didn’t conjecture these components were still operational.’ He gazed at Dylan. ‘Seems you’ve been rather busy in our absence, have you not?’ He flicked his tail.

                Dylan reluctantly stared at the figure. ‘Have.. you…’

                ‘Sephiroth,’ he softly spoke. ‘You’re cognizant of the regulations, are you not?’ Eyes flaring he stared directly at the agent. ‘I regret my visitation is not a social obligation, nor is it an intention of liberation.’  Metallic arms began shimmering as he approached the energon orb. ‘Seems you and I have much to discuss…’

                For once, Dylan-Sephiroth realised he’d rather do better with Jidai Sakugo than his current guest.

Surrounded by shadows, another figure was serenely dead to the world.  Golden sand silently orbited his body, attempting on healing its patient’s wounds.  All this transpired inside the exclusive, hyperbolic chamber.  Instead of possessing the standard coffin design, its architectural configuration utilised a king-sized bed (suspended in mid-air) for optimum comfort, while encapsulated within an egg-shaped dome.

                Arms neatly folded over his chest, he gave the illusion he was put into a self-induced trance.  Slightly shattering the dark atmosphere was the blue-violet headband rhythmically emanating its own force.  Ebony hair amalgamated with terra cotta strands, he appeared rather young and extremely well-built.  In fact, overlooking the dark hands and the concealed tail, one might’ve mistaken him for lost royalty.  Despite the advanced diagnostic terminal overhead, the being’s lack of incisions, burns and contusions made it doubtful he genuinely required medical attention.

                Notwithstanding, the being had never once suspected Torchwood—nor a fallen Fangarian—acquired the impudence for orchestrating an ambush.  Mind examining the discerning moments, his muscles had physically reminded him of the Magnalite blast.  Regardless of him only being strafed by its beam, the element was still potent enough to neutralise him.  It now had become clear to him why Fanger—as well as most Paranormals—despised Magnalite.  Barely establishing contact with the beam, he had felt ever fiber of his being set aflame from deep within, as his powers had instantly ebbed away from him.

                If not for Maelstrom’s timely intervention, he seriously doubted his location would be inside this makeshift recovery chamber. Thanks to the combination of Washu’s engineering, and Harrison’s intensive care, the being’s body was healing far better than he had anticipated.  Especially since he knew the sands surrounding him were not exactly something one procures from a local beach or desert.

                Naturally, the mysterious being in question was none other than Jidai Sakugo.

                Jidai customarily wore his traditional attire:  leather jacket, dark jeans, boots and black T-Shirt.  The azure-mauve F-Clanscrest upon his shirt identified him as a Paradox Fangarian.  Regrettably, due to his current condition, he was now topless and wearing dark, metallic-blue shorts.  Inaudibly sleeping under liquid metal shorts, he seemed oblivious towards the sands swirling round his physique.  Privately he perceived Strange Days had indeed transpired for him and Harrison.

Sands composed of gold and silver dust were caught by a mystic tempest.  Grains delicately formed themselves into an endless vortex, steadily trickling downwards into an abyss.

                Sands…

                Jidai’s mind deftly identified the curious substance suspended in the darkness.

                Sands of Time..

               

Infinite cultures, immeasurable Legends and Ancient Lore weaved intricate tales describing the curious element.  Some scholars had gone under the misimpression the Sands only existed upon figuratively, and mythological, levels.  Since no one had ever essentially obtained the Sands of Time.  Only a select few perceived the Sands were as tangible as silicon and water, and conversely, served as the component means for life and death.

                        Ironically, if one fashioned an hourglass container, one could logically collect the Sands of Time.  Consequently, the dilemma here was, one could never establish physical contact with the substance.  Due to its unusually corrosive nature, the Sands contained the power of irreparably aging, or de-aging, any living being.  And this was if one was considered extremely fortunate.

                        For if one wasn’t alert, the Sands could eradicate their very existence from the ChronoSphere.  Not to mention countless of civilisations in the process.  In spite of this, if given the right conditions—and proper materials—one might discover the Sands could also fashion Life as well.

                        Vague rumours had emerged about the Sands and the Time Lords, but only the Faction Paradox had dared utilising it for their own agenda.  Since they existed beyond the confines of Time, they never concerned themselves with the possible consequences.  Jidai was rather well-acquainted with this fact.  Primarily due to the fact he, himself, originated directly from the Sands itself.  Falling backwards into the dark abyss, Jidai’s mind was propelling himself back through forgotten memories.

                        Back to the Days of Creation.

                        More specifically, his creation.

As with every origin, Jidai had found himself encapsulated by darkness.  In the beginning, there had been nothing, nowhere, no one.  Just an endless shadow, never permitting any source of light, nor life, enter its domain.  His memories were ambiguous and detached, yet, were desperately bound by one focal point.

                Fangarius… The Little One…

                Odd, how these shards had become his essence.  Jidai did not simply experience the Paranormal Time Lord’s persona, various Incarnates, and Timelines, but instead something completely different.  He endured alternate paths Fanger had never taken, personas Fanger had never become, and chronology never touched by the Paranormal Time Lord.  But within the same instance, Jidai was his own self, completely devoid of any connection with the Fangarian.

The resonating silence started crumbling inside the continuous void. First came subtle, hushing sounds echoing amidst the shadows.  The Sands of Time were swirling and dancing about him, but he felt no anguish, nor pain from them.  Rather a warm sensation permeated his soul, while he wondered if he had been caught inside the eye of a sandstorm.

Next came other sounds.  They were not constant like the Sands.  They varied in patterns, pitch and inflections.  At first, Jidai denoted these tones as nothing more than gibberish.  Probably some unexpected feedback from the Sands, until the element informed his mind these new sounds were known as voices.

Although he had never listened to such things before, Jidai’s mind had promptly filtered out these voices.

One possessed a deep, even timbre, perhaps male.  The other was slightly higher, in a different register, perhaps female.  Jidai had failed ascertaining how he had acknowledged the specific distinctions between them.  He suspected the Sands probably provided that information as well.  From the set pattern, he had determined they were engaged in some kind of conversation.  Acting like a built-in Babel fish, the Sands had translated the indecipherable noise into the appropriate lexicon o words and phrases.

                        ‘For several centuries, we’ve not performed a Par D’jan Bioconstruct,’ the man astutely noted. ‘Especially with the Sands—on a direct level—you see. Are you certain the process you designed shall prove successful?’

                        ‘I’ll admit I’ve never used The Sands of Time in this manner before,’ the female promptly responded. ‘But as you’re aware, it’s unpredictable as your realm. Nothing can ultimately be ascertained, nor absolute.’ Faint clicking sounds indicated she was operating something, possibly a keyboard. ‘Still, according to the requirements, I’ve meticulously integrated the essential equations, BioData Extract, genetic codes, and other necessary factors.  With all this taken into account, I haven’t foreseen any possible mishaps, or unexpected contingencies.’

                Ojiisan. Jidai automatically recognised Gyakusetsu’s voice.  Gyakusetsu Ojiisan happened to be the Faction Paradox’s original founder.  As Jidai knew the veritable Faction Paradox.  Though many had referred to Gyakusetsu as Grandfather, Jidai, Harrison and the Anachron Sisters used the proper nomenclature. 

                        Yes… Faded memories vaguely returned to the surface. Ojiisan summoned forth my existence.

            Jidai comprehended why he was severely lacking visuals.  At this point in Time, only his essence had existed.  Deficient of a corporeal form, he still was essentially sentient.  His perception was still sharp, sensing items, aware of his environment, and possessed cognitive thought.

                        Another voice had entered the conversation.  Male, except it contained a smooth and fine tone.

                       

                        ‘Fascinating,’ he replied. ‘According to these calculations, the Bioconstruct will apparently be successful, with no unexpected anomalies. Considering one component originates directly from Fangarius’ BioData Extract, rather than a mere, projected Bioprint.’

 Tombeurian. Jidai never ascertained how his mind had identified the voice.  But he apprehended his connection with the Paranormal Time Lord.  Before he realised what was going on, he felt an intense surge coursing throughout his spirit.

Springing with renewed life, the Sands collected themselves and commenced sculpting his physical form.  Orchestrating the DNA from the biogenetic infodata, they intrinsically constructed the bones, muscles and tissues.  Utilising Fanger’s BioData as a primary blueprint, it fashioned Jidai a Gallifreyan physiology, complete with two hearts and respiratory bypass.  But not just any regular Gallifreyan, as his Tombeurian attributes were also implemented into the mix. Venomous fangs and claws formed, followed by his darkened hands, and finally his tail.

                        Yet, Jidai detected another presence as the Sands conjured forth his physical form.

                        You are now born, are you not? You have reached the vestige of existence, have you not?

       Jidai suddenly recalled the presence.

                        You are fortunate. Not many reach it beyond this juncture. The Sands of Time are neither compassionate nor unforgiving. Then again, none have had their newborn souls merged with a ChronoSpectre. I am rather honoured, for I’m the embodiment of Time’s Chaotic Nature, the Quintessence of Paradoxes and Anomalies, throughout infinite dimensions and boundless Realities. I am Maelstrom, and you are?

       Jidai failed answering the ChronoSpectre.  Not for lacking of manners, but of the fact Jidai had not been officially named at this point.

                        Ah, Maelstrom sheepishly remarked. Apologies, I tend to get ahead of myself. Chaotic force, and all that. Naturally, you’ve only acquired your corporeal structure and have not been properly christened as such.. Essentially, you are Fangarian, yet, Not Fangarian. Therefore, a Fangarian Denotation would be rather futile…

       Maelstrom hesitated, then received an inspirational spark.

                        Since you are the First, successful, Genet Paradox, you shall be bestowed a Proper Denotation of your background, as well as providing a bit of mystique, no?

Events had accelerated without warning.  Jidai had developed sensations and impressions beyond his reasoning.  Muscles tightening, then expanding, against the Sands and glass surface.  Pressure increasing against the chamber, he felt it starting to crack and vibrate.  His hearts rhythmically increased as the chamber began weakening from the strain.

                        Until…

                        Glass shattering, Sands erupting, and finally, an explosion of intense light.

                        Sand vapour inundated the atmosphere, while grains tricked down from above, traveling silently down the figure’s neck, and trickling across his chest.  Hearts steadily beating, he drew his first breath, calmly standing amidst the chaos of broken glass and mystic silicon.  Flicking his tail,  his mind received the encephalic jolt, causing his eyes to snap open.

                        Rather a well-constructed specimen, he possessed terra-cotta hair with ebony strands.  Round his head, an azure-mauve band materialised, giving the illusion he was a lost warrior.  Curiously, the only article of clothing he wore were sapphire shorts.  Upon his left hand, he received a rather unique piece of jewelry.  Almost resembling a class ring, it bore a polished sapphire stone.

                        Recalling his conversation with Maelstrom, he opened his mouth, summoning forth his first words.

                        ‘I am the Fangarius which never was, never been, nor ever will be.’ He lyrically recited. ‘Yet, I exist as the Fangarius which could have been, should have been, and would ever become… I am known as Jidai Sakugo…’

Observing these shadows of the Past, Jidai blankly gazed at his earlier version.  Not the fact he had once appeared a bit younger, and stronger, back then, but the reality of that abhorrent introduction.  Yet, one consolation was he had been succinct and precise with his identification.  Apparently he knew there were some who could prattle off verbose exposition, and hardly mean anything more than providing a superfluous introduction.

Eyes focusing, Jidai acknowledged the four figures standing before him.  Dressed in ancient robes, the dark-haired man’s kimono and obi identified he originally came from Feudal Japan.  Eternally handsome, the man gave the illusion he was a lost warrior from a forgotten time.  Yet, no one ever dared imagine he was, in actuality, Gyakusetsu Ojiisan. 

And for good reason.

                        Rarely did anyone witness him in this form, considering he originally founded the Faction Paradox purely by accident.  Outside the confinement of Time itself, Gyakusetsu had become immortal in his own right.  However, as he discovered when establishing this specialised organisation (he never fancied the denotation cult), he realised a youthful man gained less respect than a wise, elderly man.  Not to mention an older person carried a bit more credibility.  So whenever he addressed the rest of the Faction, he always entered into his guise befitting his translated name:  Grandfather Paradox. 

Bold expression gave way to great approval, Gyakusetsu was indeed impressed with the Paradox Fangarian.  Jidai noted Ojiisan wanted to get a better look, but he was warned about the broken glass and sand.

                        ‘Though Jidai’s form has solidified,’ the crimson-haired girl, dressed in some kind of scientific garb, explained. ‘His mind and body must have time to properly stablise.’  Operating a virtual keypad, she was inspecting the Holoscreens depicting every aspect of Jidai.  He suspected she was responsible for engineering his creation.

                        Standing regally next to Ojiisan was what Jidai believed was a very important woman.  Her crimson-robes and ornate habit indicated she was some type of holy person.  Strangely, her polished, extraterrestrial skull masque her true identity.

                        ‘Mother Francesca,’ Gyakusetsu kept his eyes trained upon Jidai, ‘what is your opinion?’

Jidai knew Mother Francesca was definitely no stranger to him.  She, and the Anachron Sisterhood, educated him upon the ways of the Faction at the Cathédrale Jidaisakugan.  Not to mention assisting him on the construction of his Château Oublié.

                        ‘Quite remarkable.’ Francesca observed Jidai’s physique. ‘However, Dr. Habuki, one speculates…’

                        ‘Why Jidai’s biostructure has retained a humanoid, than lupine, configuration..’

                        But it wasn’t the crimson-haired scientist who had responded.

Jidai vividly recollected this mysterious figure, despite never pinpointing its exact identification.  Nevertheless, he had registered the being’s description, not from his unusual attire, but solely from its familiar bioscent.

Tombeurian. The denotation was still an elusive mystery to him.  Nonetheless, it had provided Jidai with a proper label for this one. 

Decked in liquid silver and cobalt, the being’s hoodie and pants produced a contradictory illusion of sacrament and commonplace.  He was the first one approaching Jidai.  Even more curious was the fact Jidai had recalled Dr. Habuki’s warning, about the glass and sand.  That is, until Jidai had vaguely noticed the unknown Tombeurian had levitated over towards him.  Advancing towards Jidai, the Tombeurian’s serpentine eyes illuminated beneath the hood’s concealed shadows.  Jidai felt their force peer directly into his soul.  At the same instance, he had briefly obtained some of the Tombeurian’s experience and knowledge.  Unfortunately, the instantaneous transfer had impaired his recall, but the Paradox Fangarian did recognise the being’s true importance.

The other element Jidai had recollected was the beings metallic arms coming from his sleeves.  Upon first glance, one might have mistaken them for gauntlets, as one dons for an ancient battle.  But on closer inspection, the metallic surface appeared more like skin.

Jidai noticed this as the figure raised his hand and reached out to him.  But before establishing contact, he glanced back at Habuki, receiving a nod.

As the Tombeurian stroked Jidai’s cheek, Jidai noticed the being’s hand felt strangely warm than cold.  Even the figure’s claws were metallic than organic.

But the real, mystifying component was the being’s tail.  Rather than move sporadically, or react with  concealed emotions, its appendage had remained perfectly inert.

‘Essentially,’ he evenly spoke. ‘Since Jidai Sakugo is a Paradox Bioconstruct, it logically stands he would naturally retain a more humanoid biological aspect than the standard lupine configuration.’ With his bioglyphs emanating from beneath the hood, the figure revealed a slight smile. ‘No matter, Mother Francesca, Ojiisan, Jidai’s bioconstruct’s essentially perfect.’  He kept his eyes transfixed upon Jidai. ‘My congratulations, Washan. He’ll definitely serve our intentional purpose, as well as providing beneficial support to the Faction Paradox.’

Forgotten memories emerged as Jidai heard the being’s statement.  For in truth, Jidai’s conception did not originate with Fangarius, as one has always erroneous presume.  Ironically, it had commenced with The Doctor.  Consequently, the Faction Paradox was not the only group infiltrated by its own self-corruption.  Jidai knew it didn’t really begin with the Faction, but the Great Houses, who had gone under the delusion they were Immortal, and had absolute control over the Spiral Politic.

                But even The Enemy knew that essentially was a lie.  Mainly because Fanger’s older brother, Dunestar, was literally an anti-thesis to their claim.  And The War—or The War in Heaven—hadn’t helped matters much.  Basically, Ojiisan simply wanted to salvage and create some sense from the disastrous chaos.  However, the radical members had preferred simply scavenge what was left in the crossfire and initiate some takeover on a multidimensional scale.  Eventually, they had broken themselves from the original Faction, calling themselves Porte D’Crânes, plaguing the groups to no end.

                And within this madness, the Gallifreyan High Council had started getting involved with the Spiral Politic.  According to the Château’s Oraculum Compendium, the Great Houses and the Time Lords had started conspiring against The Enemy and both Factions. However, as with most conspiracies, it didn’t take long for everything to fall apart.  

                The Great Houses didn’t waste any time bailing out from the alliance, and it seemed like the Time Lords were about to be involved in an unyielding, unforgiving, Intradimensional scandal.  Until they came up with an unexpected contingency.

                Recalling how one of their own, The Doctor, had been put on trial for breaking their sacred, non-intervention laws, the High Council had formulated a scheme for framing the Time Lord for their own crimes.

                Establishing another agreement with the Great Houses, the High Council had covertly engineered their own Incarnate of The Doctor.  Except it wasn’t merely a Future Projection—as with The Watcher—but a twisted, amalgamated version, stemming from the Time Lord’s last two physical Incarnates.  Jidai suspected they never used the BioData Extract, since it could be traced back to the Council.

                Officially denoted as The Valeyard—a Doctor of Law—this Incarnate’s objective was basically simple.  The Valeyard had served upon the Gallifreyan Paralegal Department, where he had convinced the Magistrate, The Doctor had committed serious transgressions against the High Council.  Utilising the modified evidence provided, the Valeyard had successfully gotten The Doctor placed on trial.  Afterwards, the Valeyard could obviously incriminate the Time Lord before his peers.

                As a result, they’d find The Doctor guilty, execute him, and the Valeyard would receive his remaining Incarnates as payment for services rendered.  Thus, everyone would publicly blame The Doctor, the High Council and The Great Houses would be taken off –the-hook, and nobody would ultimately ever be the wiser.

                Theoretically, it was ingeniously the perfect crime.

                Except, perhaps, one minor, overlooked flaw.

                Completely preoccupied with The Doctor’s fate, the High Council had failed factoring in his personal adversary, The Master.  After their last encounter, nobody had ever dare conjecture the renegade had selected the APC Net as a temporal hiding place.  Ironically, The Master was searching for infodata as a means of blackmailing the Time Lords, since his last coup—The Onslaught—hadn’t gone over too well.  Then came that nonsense with him and the F-Clones, not wondering exactly what the vile Time Lord was thinking.

                Nonetheless, The Master had instantly learned about the Council’s dubious alliance with the Great Houses.  In doing so, he also had discovered The Valeyard stratagem, and had decided on altering their plans.

                After all, The Master never took chances with missed opportunities, and this means of doing in The Doctor and the High Council was far too tempting for him to resist.  Besides revealing The Valeyard’s true identity, he had convinced the malevolent Incarnation of forming a temporal alliance against the Council.  In truth, The Master secretly planned on doing away with The Valeyard and taking The Doctor’s remaining Regenerations for himself.

                Yet, as Jidai learned from experience, there is no true honour amongst thieves.

                The Valeyard had cleverly manipulated The Master’s own ruthless acquisitiveness against the vile renegade.

                Ensnaring The Master with a limbo atrophier, inside the APC Net, the Valeyard had decided on taking over Gallifrey through its own symbiocomputer network.  Fortunately, The Doctor had immediately sensed foul play ever since his trial had begun.  Therefore, he had managed on dispelling his twisted self from the APC Net, and saving Gallifrey.  The former High Council had been deposed after it was revealed they were responsible for this disaster.

                Nevertheless, rumours still had indicated the Valeyard had not been deleted as once imagined.  Some claim he had slipped through an unknown backdoor and had taken over The Keeper’s body.

                Jidai, however, suspected most rumours were rarely genuine, based solely upon speculation.  And even if one could prove them into being true, most rumours were rarely noticed by anyone of great importance.

                When everything had died down, even the reselected Time Lords could not ignore the sins of their predecessors, realising they’d have to change their tactics for handling this problem.

                And this time round, they had decided on making their procedure a bit more political, if not controversial, in the process.

Memories rapidly speeding past, Jidai had recalled his Days with the Faction, how he had selected his primary attire, the true behind his sapphire ring, and why he had preferred on not wearing the sacred skulls.  Mysteriously, throughout these Shadows of the Past, Jidai ultimately identified one commonality:  the hooded Tombeurian.

                        From his Creation Date, Jidai observed the being was there all through the Paradox Fangarian’s development.  Until the fateful day had come.  The day the High Council had implemented him for their mechanisation against Fanger’s Sixth Incarnate. 

                ‘Forgotten shards once again reassemble themselves into discarded memories,’ the blonde-haired man materialised behind Jidai. ‘But those selecting on forgetting the Past, doom themselves into never-ending ignorance.’ Wearing the familiar, multicoloured headband, he was decked in black, and donning a futuristic jacket-trench coat amalgamation.  The crimson F-Clanscrest was set upon his left shoulder pad revealed he was Fangarian.

                Conversely he was hardly one of Fanger’s distant relation.

                ‘Inquisitor,’ Jidai somberly acknowledged as he continued observing his Past. ‘Strange how you selected that particular name.’

                ‘No more strange than yours, Jidai Sakugo.’ The Inquisitor affirmed. ‘But I digress, I didn’t come for discussing nomenclature.’

                Without turning towards his guest, Jidai Sakugo detected The Inquisitor was lacking something. ‘You are… unarmed.. without..’ He quizzically stared at him. ‘Without your Light Katana?’

                ‘Nor did I come here for an unwarranted conflict, either, Jidai.’

Gallifrey.  Home of the Time Lords.

Jidai recalled his first visit to this place.  But he had not been taken to the Capitol, Low Town, nor even the infamous Death Zone. 

The place he had arrived was like an ancient, forgotten tomb.  Though it possessed some technology, Jidai felt he had been sent into the catacombs.

There he had met The Conspirator and his unscrupulous associate.  Divulging their intricate mechanisations to him, they bore no illusion they wanted Fanger obliterated from the ChronoSphere.  They also had absolutely no concern if this trial sparked another Great War.  Or worse, produced a Paranormal War in the process.  Secretly they had admitted Gallifrey had been embroiled in several Time Wars, and one more would hardly matter.  The Conspirator implied he and his alliance would merely pick up the remnants and begin their conquest of the Universe.

Jidai had realised if they were indeed this apathetic and callous towards their own people, there promises weren’t hardly worth the paper it was printed on.  While inspecting their meticulous schemes, Jidai had come across something disturbing about his connection with  the Paranormal Time Lord.  An element proclaiming why he couldn’t initiate this maddening plan, even if he had greatly desired for it to work.  Consequently, the associate hadn’t quite shared Jidai’s viewpoint, and had foolishly attempted in coercing the Paradox Fangarian into action.

As a result, Jidai had made him the first victim of the ChronoShatter.

Jidai had expelled its force through the sapphire ring as the associate had turned his back upon the Paradox Fangarian.  The associate had never known what had hit him, nor did anyone else, as he found himself shattered completely out of existence.  Never anticipating this outcome, Jidai had sagely initiated an alternate course.  Utilising the chamber’s makeshift Timescoop, he reached directly into Fanger’s personal Timeline.  But instead of entering into the Past, or Present, Jidai had gone into the Paranormal Time Lord’s Future.  It was here he had extracted Fanger’s Future self, The Inquisitor.

‘Rather astonished when you did that, Jidai,’ The Inquisitor frowned. ‘For you could’ve forgone their nonsense and performed the same thing upon the Little One.’

‘First,’ Jidai languidly explained. ‘I’m no one’s slave. Second, not even a Paradox can directly defy the Laws of Time. Originating from Fangarius’ BioData, a Paradox Inversion would’ve occurred.’

‘Ah,’ The Inquisitor comprehended the theory.  Originally Einstein had inaccurately named the phenomenon as the Double Paradox Effect.  Basically it claimed whenever two Paradoxes consecutively happen, they instantaneously cancel one another out.  Regrettably, because no one had ever physically encountered a Paradox, the Einsteinian Theory was never actually proven.  Given the circumstances, as any Faction member will attest, if the chance of two Paradoxes do come about, they never neutralise one another.

Similar to black holes affecting N-Space, Paradox Inversion negatively affects ChronoSpace.  In this case, both Paradoxes cause the localised Timeline to collapse within itself.  As a result, Reality at that point gets absorbed into a singular finality.  Because of their unexpected nature, Paradox Inversion is considered the most critical threat of the ChronoSphere.  Particularly since they can’t be properly contained if one genuinely occurred.

Ironically, due to this fantastic concept itself, no one—not even The Master—had ever dared tempting fate proving its actual worth.

       ‘Jidai,,’ Maelstrom materialised from the darkness. ‘Please do not insult our intelligence. The reason’s far more apparent than any of those antiquated suppositions. Sacred contracts were established not just between you and me, but with ChronoTempest and the Little One as well.’

       ‘We are quite aware, Maelstrom,’ The Inquisitor grimly replied. ‘As well as of the current circumstances.’

                Jidai wondered why The Inquisitor had arrived in his mindscape.  In truth, he didn’t care much for the Future Fangarian.  The Inquisitor would’ve been the last person he’d ever call for assistance, even if the being had helped saved Fanger from The Conspirator’s fiendish trial.

                ‘Desires do not factor into this, Jidai,’ The Inquisitor flatly stated.  He solemnly gazed into the dark horizon. ‘We both are aware of the anomalies which have unfolded.  The Little One no longer resides within our Universe.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘I also fear he is no longer the person he once was.’

                ‘Lest us not forget,’ Maelstrom added. ‘Ayrian’s curious apprehension by Torchwood.’

       ‘Imbeciles,’ Jidai recalled the incident before his falling at the warehouse. ‘Ayrian had nothing to do with Fanger’s, nor that Tellurian’s, disappearance. Surprised security did not prevent this from happening.’

                ‘They’ve no power over authority,’ The Inquisitor pointed out how Torchwood had influenced the Baytown Police. ‘But it’s circumstantial, you know, wrong place, wrong time.’ He hesitated momentarily as a thought hit him. Turning his attention back to Jidai, he shared this revelation. ‘Odd. Curiously, Jake’s bioscent was at the scene, yet, it was there before he arrived at the plant. Why do you suppose, Jidai?’

                The Paradox Fangarian was in no mood for detective games.

                ‘By Rao, how should I know?’ He gave The Inquisitor an incredulous expression. ‘If you’re so concerned, why aren’t you investigating, instead of bothering me?’

                ‘Well,’ The Inquisitor sighed. ‘There’s the rub. Just as you avoided possible Paradox Inversion, I’ve also strict Laws I’ve must adhere to as well.’

                At first, Jidai frowned disbelievingly.  Searching his mind, he conjectured over what regulation prevented The Inquisitor from intervening.  Within seconds, Jidai received the distressing answer, never imagining Fanger’s personal chronology dared intersect with it.

                ‘Oh, no,’ Jidai bitterly reproached, only receiving a confirming nod from The Inquisitor.

                The Paradox Fangarian had heard brief descriptions from agents, and Mother Francesca herself, but he never fathomed he’d become a component of one.

                ‘Not a Momentus Interlockatory.’

                The moment Jidai uttered the antediluvian phrase, he was engulfed by an intense azure explosion.

Cool breezes wafting over his face, rustling amongst the deep recesses of his mind, shattering his dreamscape and Past visions.  Opening his eyes, Jidai discovered he was back inside his private chambers.  The protective dome was already slid open and it appeared Harrison had just returned from the Omicron.

                ‘Time for your nourishment, Sensei.’ Activating the bed’s reclining circuit, Harrison propped Jidai up.  Taking the silver container from his student, Jidai placed his lips on the plastic straw.

                Normally the cool liquid contained a subtle, sour aftertaste.  But this time, there was a bizarre, mint flavour concealed within the beverage.  Harrison admitted Dustin had provided him with an elixir.  However, he had taken precautionary measures before administering it to his Sensei.

                Jidai instinctively wanted removing his lips from the straw, and spitting out the unknown concoction.  Except he realised his kohai would never readily give him something doubtful or unsafe.  Also, he detected the augmentation was enhancing the nutrients beyond their recuperative status.  He had never felt his muscles this effectively rejuvenated through just one sip.  Pain instantly melting from his body, the Paradox Fangarian perceived it wouldn’t be long before he was completely recovered from the Magnalite Poisoning.

                Amidst his midnight snack, Jidai couldn’t help acknowledge something was different about Harrison.

                One, Harrison rarely ever went anywhere without his glasses.  Not that he really required them for vision.  Harrison preferred utilising them for stealth purposes than anything else.  Two, Harrison’s new clothes, since Jidai definitely knew his kohai had never owned a leather coat, nor a simple shirt and dark jeans.

                ‘Do you care for it, Sensei?’ Harrison politely stepped back, revealing his contemporary attire. ‘Maelstrom fashioned it. Rather a bit unique, less confining.’

                Jidai approvingly nodded as he continued drinking.  At least Maelstrom possessed some sense of style and fashion.  The leather coat gave Harrison a bit more of a mystique appearance than his business suit.  Speaking of which, he noticed Harrison’s facial stubble.  As far as Jidai knew, his student was always clean-shaven.  Meaning something had been troubling him, not exactly like Harrison.  But what really clenched Jidai’s suspicions were Harrison’s eyes.

                Illuminated with intense, azure glow, they pierced the dimly-lit atmosphere like a sharpened knife.  Jidai precisely knew his student had expended a substantial amount of PK Force.  Secretly he hoped it didn’t mean Harrison had inadvertently conjured an irreversible enchantment.  Especially with Washu here within their private domain.

                Nonetheless, it definitely proved the young man wasn’t quite himself.

                ‘Sensei,’ Harrison stared through the infinite shadows, his voice still and even. ‘Have you not educated upon the futility of revenge? As well as permitting one’s emotions getting the better of one’s self?’

                Jidai didn’t require scanning his student’s mind for determining Harrison having another encounter with Dylan.

                Dylan-Sephiroth had always proven to be an immeasurable thorn with Fanger, The Doctor and the Faction’s side.  Lately Jidai had dismissed the former Fangarian’s escapades as futile attempts for conquering this planet for the Cal’Del.  Not that the Cal’Del truly cared for Earth.  Especially after Fanger had held The Convocation several months back, shortly after Fanger’s destruction.

                Notwithstanding, after what had transpired at the warehouse, Jidai seemed rather bewildered by Maelstrom’s leniency.  Then again, if not for Maelstrom’s timely intervention, Harrison might’ve literally ripped Dylan apart.  And he seriously doubted Washu could’ve genetically reconstitute the agent.

                Overlooking these facts, Jidai essentially knew he simply couldn’t dismiss Harrison’s concerns.  Being raised within a considerably sterile and logical environment, Harrison was only well-versed in the act of absolute self-control.  To the young man, these rudiments identified as emotions, were indeed alien to him.  Specifically the ones exemplifying the negative traits humans were so fond of demonstrating.

                ‘Dylan attempted murdering you without provocation.’ Diverting his gaze back at Jidai, Harrison’s words were cold and final.

                Technically, Jidai perceived Dylan had done nothing of the sort.  Considering the former Fangarian was more scared of him than Fangarius himself.  The Torchwood agents were responsible for the Magnalite assault.  Consequently, given Harrison’s state, Jidai decided it best not to argue over such trivial matters.

                Finishing his snack, Jidai casually returned the container back to his student.

                ‘Then, one must consider this,’ he cautiously determined. ‘Should you have not reciprocated within the same fashion? Murder our Mr. Sephiroth as a essential means of atonement?’

                Before dematerialising the empty flask, Harrison hesitated momentarily.  Jidai made a valid point, since the young man had not done so.  Yet, the emotions he experienced had tempted him into tearing Dylan asunder without any given thought.

                Except.

                Except, inexplicably, logical reasoning had survived the demonstrative tempest within Harrison’s soul.

                Despite Maelstrom and Washu’s timely intervention.

                Though the possible elation from doing in Dylan was irresistibly enthralling, Harrison’s mind informed him the sensation was not only impractical, but foolish and unproductive.  Washu, herself, implied Dylan’s purpose for keeping him alive.  Thus, if Harrison had taken the former Fangarian’s life, Jidai might not be here recovering in their private sanctum.

                Jidai then brought up the matter of the soldiers.  Although Harrison had deftly defended them from the Torchwood militia with a venomous assault, the young man had refused leaving them for dead.  At least Harrison took responsibility for his actions, which was far more than what Dylan—or Torchwood—would ever had done.

                Dazed and confused, Harrison’s head was swimming as Jidai sensed the young man was exhausted.  Apparently Harrison had been toiling away diligently in the Omicron, possibly discovering the true nature behind Fanger’s inexplicable departure.

                Mystic breezes blew past the young man, instantly disrobing him.  Harrison now found himself wearing a dark T-Shirt and sapphire pyjama bottoms.

                ‘Come… Hijan..’ Jidai whispered, beckoning him.

                ‘Sen..’ Harrison raised an eyebrow, never imagining Jidai referring to him by the ancient term.

                ‘You’re tired, you require rest.’ Jidai opened his arms. ‘You’ve done more than enough. I feel we should be one tonight.’

                The young man carefully climbed into bed with the Paradox Fangarian.  Getting under the sheets, Harrison gently laid his head against Jidai’s chest. ‘Ricem, D’tei.’ He whispered, closing his eyes.

                Gently stroking the young man’s head, Jidai placed Harrison into an enchanted slumber.

                ‘Rest,’ he softly instructed. ‘When you awaken, I shall have a surprise awaiting you.’ Kissing Harrison’s head, Jidai then laid back, returning the bed back into its horizontal position.  Before the dome sealed itself, the sands began swirling over them, Jidai sensed The Doctor also knew about the circumstances focusing directly upon Jake and Fanger.

                Closing his eyes, he knew the Time Lord was not pleased.  Even with Washu around, The Doctor’s wrath would be felt across several galaxies.

Little did the Paradox Fangarian suspect it might come sooner than he thought.  As the hyperbolic chamber sealed its occupants from the outside world, they were oblivious towards the last moments unfolding elsewhere in the complex.

The Doctor and Washu were still preoccupied with their discussion of Fanger, Rose and the Reapers, when everything broke loose.  The Doctor noticed an abnormal spike appear upon Washu’s Holoscreens.  Then came the silent flash illuminating throughout the halls, followed by the resonating scream. 

                Washu wasted no time using her CompSys for locating the disturbance.  The source came from Sector 17—where Dylan-Sephiroth was being held—which was her makeshift Fantasmi Cell.  The scanners revealed there were massive amounts of parakinetic energy being released.  Realising Dylan had his powers completely neutralised, she knew he wasn’t the cause.

                Checking on Harrison’s whereabouts, Washu discovered he was currently with Jidai.  Fearing the worst, she and The Doctor immediately headed towards Sector 17.

At first, The Doctor surmised the place would have been ravaged.  Mainly because that’s what typically occurred whenever elaborate security systems would go off.  Washu, however, seemed more concerned wondering how someone had managed getting past her systems.  Of course, Mihoshi always walked into her complexes without any difficulty.

                Surprisingly, when they arrived, they both had found everything still intact.  However, Washu noticed the energon orb had been deactivated.  The Doctor noticed Dustin was here as well.  The Fandraelian was standing in front of Dylan-Sephiroth. 

                Undeterred, Washu simply pushed him aside as The Doctor dubiously witnessed the scene.

                Eyes suffused mauve, the Cal’Del agent was standing at attention like a soldier.  Emotionless, he automatically identified himself.

                ‘I am Dylan,’ his voice echoed hauntingly, remaining flat and even. ‘Formerly of the Cal’Del, I currently serve the Paradox Fangarian, Jidai Sakugo.’

            Washu blinked.  Not that she wasn’t unfamiliar with this enchantment, but she found it peculiar how obedient Dylan-Sephiroth had become.  Most subjects placed under mind control usually either exhibit some resistance, or possess some passive obliviousness.  The Doctor, however, decided on examining Dylan’s condition personally.  Taking out his glasses, he silently inspected the Fangarian meticulously.

                The Time Lord wasn’t exactly a fan of Fanger’s former relation.  Then again, when did anyone really like Dylan-Sephiroth?  Consequently, The Doctor detested these rituals Paranormals loved implementing.  It was bad enough when normal beings implemented some contraption, but conjurates, incantations and other enchantments proved almost maddening to cure.  Even when Fanger was round to help dispel the situation.

                One idiosyncrasy he discovered was the illuminated bioglyph etched on Dylan’s right shoulder.  The Doctor’s suspicions were confirmed, shooting an accusing glare at Dustin.

                ‘Hey, Doc,’ Dustin held up his hands. ‘Innocent, I just came to visit Harrison.’ He sighed. ‘And to see you and Washu, when I detected the disturbance.’ He chucked a thumb at Dylan. ‘Our Cal’Del compadre was found in his wonderful, lovable condition. You know we Fandraelians frown on this kind of stuff.’ A wry smile formed upon his lips. ‘Transmogrification, on the other hand…’

                Before The Doctor responded, he noticed a eccentric afterimage catching his attention.  From the corner of his eye, he witnessed the hooded figure.

                Or at least, the being’s contoured silhouette before it faded into obscurity.

                Disbelievingly, the Time Lord removed his glasses.  He knew this wasn’t an optical illusion, the figure had slipped through a dimensional pocket.  Almost the same way the alternate Cyberman had when Torchwood One started messing about with the Void.

                Secretly, deep down, he hoped things were going far better for Rose.

                And, if he wasn’t mistaken, Fanger.