There's a crash behind him, the screams of Cyber-whatevers, the grind of metal gnashing on metal. And yet, the Maestro barely hears it; like he's hundreds of feet underwater. The room seems dull, somehow, despite all of the very interesting and rather horrifying carnage. It's as if somebody has twisted the lens of a camera, bringing everything out of focus--except for her.
He takes her hand and they run, run from the decaying would-be empire of steel and cold reason. "Two parallel realities rubbing against one another, I had to look." Though it doesn't explain why he came out of his TARDIS instead of just scanning the area, does it? Oh well. He stops when they're in a corridor that probably won't collapse on top of them, as well as being secluded from her ragtag group of soldiers and anarchists. The Maestro grabs her wrist and pulls the Doctor so she looks at him. He can feel her pulse.
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There's a crash behind him, the screams of Cyber-whatevers, the grind of metal gnashing on metal. And yet, the Maestro barely hears it; like he's hundreds of feet underwater. The room seems dull, somehow, despite all of the very interesting and rather horrifying carnage. It's as if somebody has twisted the lens of a camera, bringing everything out of focus--except for her.
He takes her hand and they run, run from the decaying would-be empire of steel and cold reason. "Two parallel realities rubbing against one another, I had to look." Though it doesn't explain why he came out of his TARDIS instead of just scanning the area, does it? Oh well. He stops when they're in a corridor that probably won't collapse on top of them, as well as being secluded from her ragtag group of soldiers and anarchists. The Maestro grabs her wrist and pulls the Doctor so she looks at him. He can feel her pulse.
"You survived." Somehow, his voice doesn't crack.