The Abbot was certain that she would disappear again, and a new Peri would appear to threaten him. There was no way out. Except to die. The only way to win was for him to let her kill him. He would have to face death to succeed. Only by facing it and persevering, would he succeed. He had the strength to stand alone. But not the power. Already he heard the high-heeled step of Peri coming towards him. He opened his eyes.

 "Hi!"

 Something deep inside the Abbot spoke. "I charge thee, Satan, get away from me." He looked up at the Peri, who looked human once more. Something devilish glinted in her eyes.

 "Terran religions?" she laughed, mockingly. "That won't do. I know you're much more a man of the world then that. And I've seen too many places to be afraid of something like that."

 The Peri took a step towards him. In the semi-darkness, her eyes seemed to glitter. The shadows made her nails seem longer, pointed. A trick of the light, no doubt.

 The Abbot ignored her, and kept muttering to himself. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son..." It was his own voice now, dragging up fragments from an ancient religious prayer, remembered from a time on Earth. Years ago, relatively speaking.

 Another step forward. Claws glittering in the dim light, mouth starting to open to expose pointed teeth

 "... and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." The Abbot risked a glance up at the Peri. She was halted in mid-step, her mouth gaping open. Between her pointed teeth it seemed that he could see the fires of Hell.

 "It may be of another world," he said softly. "But it's my belief in it that counts. You should know that."

 As the Peri began to shuffle back into life, he sprinted away down the corridors of his TARDIS. The thing followed him.

 "We will do more than seek him," the Doctor agreed, "we will find him." With this, he hung his bag over his shoulder and turned towards the console.

 "It's all very well to say that, Doctor," the Master counted. "But how do you propose we find this lord of darkness?"

 "Turn out the lights?' Wil suggested. "Hey, how many Paracastrians does it take to screw in a light bulb?" His voice trickled to a halt, as Hecate gave him a withering look.

 "Gallifrey," the Doctor said. His fingers flickered over the controls.

 The Master grimaced. "Must we go there? I think I may have outstayed my welcome the last time I visited."

 "That doesn't surprise me," the Doctor said. "Nevertheless, I think we should go there. Call it intuition, if you like."

 Casually, the Master leant on the sword. "Oh really, Doctor? What if I disagree? I happen to have become Time's Champion, remember? What do you say about that?"

 The Doctor's brow creased. "Obviously a continuity error," he said. "And I'm sure that it will be rectified once we begin sorting things out."

 He glanced over at Hecate. "You too."

 The woman's face fell. "What does he mean?" she whispered to Wil, as the two Timelords moved away to discuss something.

 Wil shrugged. "Beats me... as the lawyer said to the Hoothi!" Even that classic punchline failed to get a response. *Some people have no sense of humour,* he concluded ruefully.

 "How dare you," thundered Kyder, one of the senior members of the Council Guard. "Can't you see that Madam President is busy?"

 Romana looked up from the pile of reports and memorandums on her desk. "Kyder, all this work is futile. We've lost the Eye of Harmony... who knows what will be next." She stood up, and approached the young Timelady. "Shaya, isn't it?"

 Shaya nodded, still gasping for breath. "My Lady, Gallifrey is under attack!"

 Kyder stiffened, hand reaching for his blaster. "What do you mean?"

 "The Shobogans are being killed in the hundreds," Shaya gasped. "There are creatures, thousands of them. They're saying it's the Balrog."

 Even Kyder paled at the mention of a Balrog, a dreaded creature from Gallifreyan mythology.

 Romana tried to smile. "I'm sure the Balrog is just something they made up to scare Time Tots," she said, unconvincingly. She crossed her fingers behind her back.

 "I've seen it," Shaya said. "It -" She pitched forward. Romana and Kyder only just caught her before she crumpled to the ground. The Timelady's back was a mass of bloody wounds. Romana grimaced. "Kyder, are these -"

 "They're claw marks, ma'am," he said, making the Sign against evil. "Shall we take her to the Infirmary?"

 "Immediately," Romana said. Kyder snapped out orders, and several of the Council Guard took the unconscious Timelady, and carried her out of the room.

 "With your permission," he said, "I'll take a squadron down to the Lower Lands and see if there's any truth to the rumours."

 Romana studied him for a moment. "Permission granted," she said at last. "But be careful. No unnecessary risk."

 He snapped a crisp salute, and marched out of the room with another group of guards.

 Romana wandered back behind her desk, and looked out of the window. There were storm clouds gathering. "Doctor, where are you?" she muttered. "Doctor!"

 There - that was the doorway he was after. He sprinted into the room, slammed the door behind him, and pressed home the bolt. Seconds later, the Peri caught up, and began throwing herself against the door.

 "You can't hide forever, old man," she said.

 The Abbot ignored her, glancing around the room, the Cloister room. It was configured to resemble a medieval cathedral, arches stretching up to the roof, and a few stained glass windows for good measure.

 There was a faint humming from somewhere within the cathedral. As the Abbot walked into the room, the buzzing became an angry drone.

 He looked down at himself. His clothes, normally a pristine, sacred brown, were covered in the blood of the Peri, and its unborn spawn. His face wrinkled with disgust at the congealing black and brown stains.

 "No wonder you're upset," he said to the room. With a swift movement, he pulled off the bloodstained robe, and threw it to the ground. Underneath, his white garments were not soiled. As the buzzing subsided, he took a few steps into the centre of the room, and knelt down.

 "Forgive me Father," he said. "For I have sinned."

 He had spilt blood - now he must atone for it. When he had spent some time in a Christian monastery, he had learned the rules and rituals if that time. Sin, and pay the price.

 The Abbot closed his eyes, and began to concentrate.

 Then he died.

 It was surprising how calm most of Gallifrey was. *Things never change,* Kyder reflected. *They're just content to sit around like a bunch of lap-fed cats. This place could be going up around them, and they wouldn't know until it was too late.*

 When they got outside, he realised just how true it was.

 Outside was like a war zone. Bodies were strewn everywhere, adults, and even some children, twisted in death. The screaming was the worst, a howl that went on and on and on.

 He swallowed three times, and looked at his troops. "Right," he said. "You heard the President's orders. No unnecessary risks. At this time, we're just observing. Pair off, and report back here in fifteen minutes."

 The squad detached, and ran off into the mist.

 "Sir?" called one of the younger officers, a Timelord in his first regeneration. "I think she's till alive."

 Kyder ran over to the soldier. The woman moaned once, twice. There was a deep slash across her chest, and it was bleeding profusely. Too badly wounded to regenerate.

 "What is it?" Kyder asked. "Can you hear me?"

 Her eyes fluttered. "Balrog," she said. "Hundreds of them. They came on us suddenly, killing -" Her eyes fluttered closed. He thought she was dead, but suddenly she screamed "The Dark is everywhere! I can't see. Rassilon!" and slumped back.

 "She's dead," the lieutenant said. He swept a hand across her face, trying to close her eyes, but they stayed open. Wide and staring.

 Kyder swallowed. "Right. Where's your partner?"

 "He went off without me," the young Timelord said. "I stopped because I thought I heard something, and then I found this woman, and -"

 Kyder held up a hand. "Yes, Lieutenant. We'll go together."

 "Something's always wrong with your TARDIS," the Master smiled. "I don't see it as a cause for concern."

 "No, it's *wrong* wrong," he said, agitated. "We seem to be veering off course from Gallifrey."

 "There's something wrong with the Vortex," Hecate spoke up. "Mummy told me so."

 Wil watched her as she shifted from one position to another. Her muscles rippled, and her tunic was gaping again. Just how old was she? he wondered.

 Hecate noticed his gaze, and he blushed.

 The Evil One floated through the remnants of the vortex. Enjoying the taste of freedom and fear and suffering. For a few moments it took the shape of an army colonel, and gave the order to open fire. Then it was a woman, telling her husband that she was cheating on him. Then a teenager, a group of teenagers, bashing Judy because everyone knew she liked girls.

 An Earth reptile, who strangled its child as it lay sleeping. A Seren who broke off another's wings, and pushed it from the top of a building. Evil has no face, but it was smiling.

 Regeneration is never a pleasant process. Death without end, without sleep, without release. The Abbot's soul tumbled through the void, a soundless scream echoing everywhere and nowhere.

 He'd forced this regeneration on himself. He'd spilt blood, and it had to be atoned for. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. Perhaps it would pay for the blood of the Peri.

 As he tumbled through the void in search of a new life, there was suddenly Darkness. He could smell the scent of evil. It wafted through his head, inviting, teasing.

 Come to my side, it seemed to say. I can show you many things.

 A sudden flash - hidden scrolls, the burning of a monastery. Knowledge. Power, it said. I can offer you power you have never dreamed of.

 "Noooooooooooo!" the Abbot said, and fell away.

 He woke up on the floor of the Cloister room. The Peri was standing over him, talons outstretched.

 "You have no power over me," the Abbot said softly. Then, louder, "You have NO POWER."

 The thing dropped to the ground, It crawled on all fours to some dark corner, gibbering and frothing at the mouth.

 The Abbot turned and walked away. His sacrifice had saved him. He was the Redeemed.

 "Isn't the fifteen minutes up yet, sir?" Aroth asked.

 Kyder nodded. "We'd better be getting back to the others."

 But it wasn't as easy as that. The mist was getting heavier, and somehow they'd become lost. Kyder swallowed hard. No need to let the boy know - he was scared enough. Perhaps if they veered right -

 A dark shape loomed out of the mist. Kyder had his blaster in his hand, before he realised that it was a house. A shack, rather. One of the hovels that the Shobogans packed themselves into. Kyder forced himself to relax, and re-holstered his laser.

 "Nothing to be frightened of, lad," he said. "We'll take shelter in here until the mist settles."

 He strode inside the hut, Aroth following nervously.

 They'd been in there for only a few minutes before they realised that they weren't quite alone. A figure, taller than a man, loomed out of a dark corner. It raised its outstretched claws (claws?) at them, and gave a huge bellow.

 "It's a Balrog," Aroth called, backing away.

 Kyder tried to follow, but his tunic was caught on something.

 He looked down.

 Oh. His tunic was caught on one of the Balrog's claws. Blood and intestines were spilling everywhere. *Going to be a bitch to clean,* he thought.

 And died.

 "Not bad, Abacus," he muttered to himself. He held up a hand, and noted that the skin was full, and soft. "Not bad at all."

 He felt centuries younger. He jumped up and down a few times, noting that there was no creak of tired bones and protesting muscles. Excellent.

 Now, wasn't there a universe to save?

 A chattering from his console brought back his wayward attention. He hurried over to examine the latest readings. It appeared he was about to materialise on-

 Good heavens, this was terrible! He didn't want to land on this planet. Frantically, he tried to adjust the controls, sliding levers and pressing buttons in a rush of movement.

 But it didn't work. With a rather refined variation on the wheezing, groaning sound, the Abbot's TARDIS materialised on Skaro.

 "No matter," the Master said. He brushed aside some vines, and gestured to the Doctor. "After you."

 "You're too kind," the Doctor said. "Just be careful with that sword."

 The Master smiled, and looked down at the sword of Time's Champion. "Don't worry Doctor, it's in safe hands."

 "That's precisely what worries me," the Doctor shot back.

 Wil and Hecate were a little way behind. Wil was fast coming to the conclusion that she wasn't like any girl he'd ever known.

 "I'm bad," she smiled at him. "Badder than you can imagine."

 "Really?" Wil said. Her attitude was intriguing.

 "Don't you want to find out just how bad I can be?" she asked, running her tongue over her lips.

 "Erm..." Wil said, trying to sound intelligent.

 She grabbed his hand, and pulled him away. "C'mon. We won't be long."

 "Ummm...."

 "Oh, don't worry,:" the Master said. "They can't have gone far."

 "Come on," Hecate smiled, pulling him out onto the sand.

 Wil paused. Perhaps he should be getting back to--

 Who had he come here with? More to the point, where was he?

 He tried to remember something, anything. But there was nothing there but gray. He turned to the woman - what was her name? -- noticing idly that her teeth seemed to have become longer, sharper. She held up a hand, a hand whose nails seemed to have become longer.

 "I'm bad," she said, her voice becoming deep and gravely. "And I'm going to show you how bad I can be."

 As her hands reached out for him, Wil took a few steps backwards. He stepped onto sand that seemed softer than the rest. And began to sink.

 "Help me!" he called to Hecate. She laughed, and turned away. Wil tried to struggle out, but he was already up to his knees, and sinking fast.

 One of them slid forward a little. "Attention human," it rasped. "We do not wish to harm you. We seek your cooperation."

 *That will be the day,* the Abbot thought to himself. His hand slid towards the dematerialisation control, and danced across it.

 "We seek your cooperation," the Dalek repeated. "Skaro is in danger, and we must evacuate the planet."

 The Abbot studied the Dalek closely, and flicked a switch on the console. "Why should I believe you?" he asked, the TARDIS' microphone carrying his voice outside.

 The Dalek stopped for a moment. "You are not the Doctor." There was something like regret in his metallic, amplified tones.

 "No," the Abbot agreed. "But I am of his race. Why should I believe a word you say?"

 "There is a genuine threat to Skaro," the Dalek said. Abruptly, it changed tone. "Bring the prisoners."

 A group of Daleks moved forward. Herded between them were a group of Thaal women and children. They gazed around timidly, and looked towards the TARDIS.

 "You leave us with no alternative," the Dalek said. "Let us in, or we will exterminate these humans." There was a brief, harsh chorus of EX-TER-MIN-ATE from the massed Daleks. One of the Thaal children started to cry.

 "Sensors and analysis determine that you value the lives of others above your own," the leader Dalek said. "Therefore, let us into your machine, or we will carry out our threat."

 The Abbot looked at the Thaals. One of them had only just noticed the camera set into the roof of his TARDIS. She grinned at it, and waved cheekily. Someone - her mother? Older sister? -- slapped her hands down. Sighing, the Abbot flicked the switch that opened the doors. The Daleks and prisoners moved into his TARDIS.

 The leader Dalek glided up to the Abbot. "Thank you," he said, the words sounding strange and unfamiliar.

 The Abbot drummed his fingers on the console. "You have control of my machine," he said, trying to summon up as much dignity as he could. "Please kill me quickly."

 The Dalek paused. "Human, we are not interested in killing you. We are merely trying to evacuate Skaro and relocate elsewhere. There is evil coming. A great evil. It threatens us as well as you."

 "I'm not human," the Abbot snapped. "Call me Abbot, or Abacus, but don't insult be by referring to me as a Homo sapiens."

 The Dalek's eyestalk surveyed him quizzically. "Very well... Abbot. You may refer to me as Omega. I am the last of the Daleks. We have been -"

 There was a sudden explosion outside the TARDIS. The whole room shook, sending Daleks, Thaals, and the Abbot flying. The Abbot managed to grab one side of the console, and looked in horror at the scanner screen. The vegetation was burning, then everything went white. The TARDIS controls moved of their own accord, and began the dematerialisation sequence.

 Gradually, the TARDIS settled down. The Abbot looked at Omega Dalek. "What in the twelve galaxies was that?"

 "Skaro has been destroyed," Omega replied. For someone as emotionless as a Dalek, he sounded sad, and worried.

 "Impressive," the Doctor said. "I wonder what's inside it?"

 "We're obviously on Verandorar," the Master said, stepping forward into the clearing.

 "What makes you say that?" the Doctor asked. It looked the same as the million other worlds he'd visited - jungle, ruined temple... par for the course these days. Memories of Yemaya drifted through his brain.

 The Master frowned. "Really, Doctor, haven't you read Rassilon's 'Rise and Fall and Rise and Fall of Civilisations'?"

 The Doctor laughed. "I read the first page, and the last. Somehow I don't think I've missed anything much."

 They stepped inside the temple, and looked at the multi-coloured column sitting in the center. The Doctor shuddered.

 "Nervous, Doctor?" the Master said.

 He shook his head. "For a moment I thought I heard someone calling my name. The thing is, it sounded -- it sounded like Romana."

 Then there was a rush of psychic energy, and an image of the Abbot appeared in the room. "Hello there," he said. "I've regenerated."

 "Yes, we can see that," the Doctor smiled. "I like the hair."

 The Abbot touched his hair for a moment. "Yes, well, I've got something more important than the hair. I seem to have become the Redeemed, my TARDIS is full of Daleks and Thaals, and Skaro has been destroyed."

 The Doctor muttered something under his breath. It sounded like "Again?"

 The Master smiled, and made a few experimental strokes with the sword. "Well, well, well. That's one for the books. By the way, if you hadn't noticed, I've become the Champion."

 The Doctor frowned. "I suppose that make me the Holy Man by default."

 The Abbot nodded approvingly, as the image began to fade. "It would seem so. Curiouser and curiouser. I shall leave you to your task. I am trying to deal with my situation."

 The Doctor looked around, and noticed the column in the center of the room. "If I'm the Holy Man, I wonder where my congregation is?"

 "Here," giggled the column. The Doctor jumped back, as if he'd received an electric shock. "Adric? No, it can't be."

 "Oh, yes it can," the voice said. "Welcome to Purgatory."

 An invisible hand gripped the Doctor's throat. As he sank to the ground, he could see the Master laughing, laughing.

 To be continued....