There was no more that needed to be said.

- Doctor Who: The Eyeless, Lance Parkin (2008).

Outside of the weapons chamber had been a swarm of eighty-eight Eyeless, all of them having surged inside the Fortress with the intent to rush through the defenses as one and get the weapon first before the Doctor could. Many would perish, but the Eyeless had calculated the losses and found them acceptable. They had been prepared to die for their goal, but it ended up not mattering as the Doctor had reached the weapon first, disconnecting the Fortress's sole power source.

That still left eighty-eight Eyeless, all interconnected with a hive mind that essentially made them one giant creature with eighty-eight heads and 176 legs and 1,056 fingers; all banded together with one single objective: kill the Doctor.

Feeling their way blind in the dark, fingers groping and grasping along surfaces like antennae, all the sensations and perceptions being shared and analyzed. Truthfully, it was rare for the Eyeless to so completely give up their individuality as they were doing now... And while they were coordinating their movements better than any human army — they were also left vulnerable in being unable to differentiate which extension of the hive mind was experiencing something. So, when the Doctor shoved a couple over the side of the narrow walkway, all of the Eyeless experienced the sensation of fall and instinctually moved to brace themselves, leaving eighty-six left.

Then suddenly, they perceived eighty-six sonic screwdrivers squealing gratingly being held by eighty-six Doctors cradling eighty-six weapons under eighty-six arms, and the Eyeless lunged in eight-six different directions at once... Only to crash into each other and reel away, overloaded with too much individual information overlapping each other. There had only ever been one Doctor hold one weapon and brandishing one sonic screwdriver, but all of the Eyeless had spotted him at once and sent the information to the rest of the collective, a massive case of cognitive dissonance at its finest.

Of course, the purpose of the sonic's squealing had been more than just a distraction, but a sign of it dismantling a massive section of pipeline from above the walkway, causing the pipe to fall and slam into Eyeless below with an echoing and grinding crash.

Eighteen Eyeless jumped out of the way, only to fall over the edge of the railing or bump into a comrade and make them both fall over the side. They fell to the ground below, and shattered into smithereens on impact. Twenty-two others simply disappeared, crushed under the large metal pipe's girth. The remaining forty-six survivors were bisected into two groups: one with seventeen Eyeless and the other with twenty-nine. Silence reigned with only the ominous creaking of the walkway underneath to be heard in the complete darkness.

The Doctor coughed, "I'd run if I were you."

Then he followed his own advice, running backwards on the spot and causing the pipe to begin to roll forwards towards the group of twenty-nine Eyeless like a balancing barrel act worthy of Donkey Kong. Except with a large metal pipe that easily weighed a ton or two.

The Eyeless did the only sensible thing they could do by turning tail and fleeing ahead of it to avoid being crushed while the seventeen other Eyeless behind the pipe gave chase as the Doctor cackled mischievously the whole way.

Alsa wiped her face with a sniffle, defeat sitting bitterly in her mouth.

Many moments prior, before the Doctor had disconnected the weapon, Alsa had been forced to accept the truth of the matter: the Eyeless were aliens, complete and utter aliens, and no matter what they showed her or what knowledge and experiences they shared with her, she could not fathom or become one with the hivemind.

She had thought that she had them all figured out, thought that she had found kindred spirits and ones that took her seriously. Treated her like an equal! They didn't keep anything secret from her and were straightforward honest with their answer, a bluntness she could appreciate. They accepted her ideas and thoughts, and didn't just dismiss them out of hand just because she was a kid, not even just because she wasn't the same species!

In that sense, they were loads better than the people at the Settlement, especially the Parents. The Eyeless could do so much that people couldn't. Jennver and the other Parents wanted everyone to sit around eating weeds, plopping out babies. Alsa had thought the Doctor and Gilly-Glenda would change things, but only ended up useless to her. Worse than useless, actually; they kept getting in their way... Her way.

Alsa grimaced, thinking in the plural had been weird and it was hard to change that even now, still somewhat connected to the Eyeless... which brought up the problem and reason for her being on her own and crying as she was: the hivemind.

At first, she had thought it was brilliant. The Eyeless shared everything, knew everything about each other, instantly. There was no privacy, and while Alsa didn't like that idea, she had thought the Eyeless as better than people and that even the idea of wanting privacy felt childish in comparison of the existence she experienced through them. That feeling of absolute unity, of belonging, that she had never in her life felt before. They could do so much she couldn't, were so much more ambitious. All of the glass men here had done so many wondrous things, things only possible because of that lack of individuality and single-mindedness. Alsa had admired them for it...

And now felt all the more foolish!

She hadn't known, hadn't realized what that had meant, until it had nearly been too late. Hadn't realized that the Eyeless had accomplished all they had solely by the sacrifices of their brethren. That many Eyeless had died to bring forth progress for the colony, and while they didn't want to die, per se, they were willing to take chances for the success of the many.

They were willing to die to get what they wanted.

And she had been a part of it, had almost been a participant in the suicidal rush for the weapon, with a rate of failure that was little better than 3,124 out 3,125. One would survive for certain, they asserted, but only around a sixty-seven percent chance that more than one would. She knew it was accurate. The Eyeless had walked her through all the probabilities of it ending in death, claimed that they only needed a handful of people to assure success, and Alsa wasn't feeling lucky.

It was suicide, but to the Eyeless, the benefits had justified the cost, that short-term sacrifice to ensure the survival of future generations was worth it all — the very principal Alsa had been trying to escape, her suffocating duty to the Settlement and its people's survival by bearing children.

They had only needed a handful, and there were five Eyeless in the room with her.

If Alsa knew what ants were, she probably would have compared the Eyeless to ants being given advanced technology and the intelligence to use it with ruthless efficiency for the good of the colony. Utterly terrifying, because just like ants, the Eyeless couldn't understand fear. To them, her terror was exhilarating, "inspiring"! It was only just a sensation to them, something to experience, just like the anger she had shared with them earlier...

They had only needed a handful, but to the Eyeless, a handful was six and not five.

They had said other Eyeless were coming, reinforcements, but that there wasn't time to wait for them to come. That if they wanted to beat the Doctor to the weapon, they had to go now. That if they had any last thoughts, it was time to think them now, because even if they didn't survive, at least thoughts would. Because to the Eyeless, they shared everything and remembered everything perfectly. The memory would literally live on in them.

They had only needed a handful, and Alsa was number six.

Alsa had fled, ran away as fast as she could and hid, shivering from the utter rage the Eyeless with Jall's eyes had radiated through the link after her retreat. Her chest heaved like her heart was going to burst out of it; acutely aware of the weight of her feet, the sweat in her armpits, the tears in her eyes, and the dryness in her mouth. Her breathing. She was breathing too fast. She had to stop breathing. Her tongue almost choked her.

It was only a sensation, just like the rage had been.

...Was that her own thought or had the Eyeless put it there? It wasn't anything like what she wanted to think, and it scared her. Alsa whimpered, voice thick with tears and wavering in a slow-growing horror as she clutched at her head, "What's wrong with me?"

The Doctor was hiding out of view of the remaining seventeen Eyeless and was considering them thoughtfully from a platform several stories above them. The Eyeless seemed almost addicted to anger now, as if they took a sort of pleasure from it... If they got into contact with the rest of their kind, it would spread like the worst sort of wildfire. He could picture it: an advanced race with the penchant of stealing 'trophies' from others, fueled by a deep and intense anger; well, they'd swarm across the cosmos. And it wasn't as if the Universe was short of monsters like that already, monsters with a tendency of hate...

He'd have to nip them in the bud, stop them before the could. Unconsciously, the Doctor glanced down at Alsa's bag. How convienent that there was an easy way to do almost literally at his fingertips. It would be almost surgical, removing a tumor before it could spread and infect the rest. He was a doctor, wasn't he? He'd be doing his duty, and it would be so quick, so painless. They wouldn't even realize what had happened if the weapon was used. Just once.

Exterminate them.

The Doctor shuddered, physically removing his hands away from the bag and feeling sick.

No, the simplest and best thing for him to do would be to destroy the weapon, then and there. No one, not even himself, should have that kind of power.

But still, he did nothing, electing to stand on wobbly legs and head out of the Fortress. He needed to regroup with Glenda, needed to ground himself and remove the temptation... Something about humans made him second guess himself and his more questionable decisions, help keep him in check. It was a bit comforting to know that his newest companion wouldn't mince words about how thick he was being, at least, and it was starting to get uncomfortably close to the twenty-four hour mark. Then, once that was taken care of, they would destroy the weapon and...

Then what? There was still the problem of the glass men and even the ghosts, now that he thought about it. That is, the moment he thought about it being the moment he crawled out of a hatch and came face-to-face with one, unable to avoid thinking about them any longer. Surprisingly, though, it was one he met before: Gyll, Dela's lover. There were other ghosts behind Gyll, but none the Doctor recognized. Sliding out his psychic paper, the Time Lord greeted, "Hello again, Gyll. Do you remember me?"

Tiny, neat copperplate handwriting appeared on the paper:

Hello... I'm not sure, something is different.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed grimly as he gingerly opened Alsa's bag and tilted it towards the ghost so it could see inside. "I have the weapon this time, the thing that murdered you all... Don't touch it."

It's smaller than I thought such a powerful thing could be.

"It seems to be a trend," the Doctor agreed again, his eyes scanning over the ghost's form... And for the first time, he had an answer to what they might be: not a defense of the Fortress or a hologram, but something else entirely. They weren't even ghosts, not really.

You plan to destroy it.

"The first chance I get, just as promised," the Time Lord hesitated, "But the other promise I made you, I can't keep it."

It stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Shuttering his eyes, the Doctor quietly explained, "I can't save you. I thought I could, but I can't, because I know what you are now. You are not a ghost, and you are not Gyll."

I am Gyll.

"No, you're not. The weapon killed Gyll, killed everyone in Acropolis fifteen years ago, but no matter how powerful the weapon, it can't destroy matter and energy completely, defies the law of conservation, so there's always something left behind. If you were drop a nuclear bomb, you burn shadows into the very ground itself, called blast shadows. Gyll had been obliterated, everything that made him was ripped from the universe with only an imprint, you, left behind. You're a blast shadow, but more complicated, because Gyll was killed by a very complicated piece of technology."

But... I am Gyll.

"No, I'm sorry, but you're not. You're a shadow, and the person who cast it is long gone."

I know I am, I am real. I am Gyll.

The Doctor swallowed hard, and took a breath to steady himself. "No, none of you here are ghosts, but imprints. Little holes in reality, and anything you come into contact with falls right through and out of the universe."

I... don't understand. I —

The train of thought abruptly stopped, the imprint of Gyll was looking over the Doctor's shoulder as the other shadows began to grow agitated. Uneasily, the Time Lord turned around to see what was causing the disturbance as the shades flitted over and around him.

It was the Eyeless, they had finally caught up, a small army of them walking on the platform towards the Doctor, the Eyeless with Jall's eyes leading them. They stopped a short distance away in a sort of stand off, unable to move any further from the sheer multitude of not-ghosts blocking the way and battering their senses with intense emotion. Being a primarily psyche-based species, it was like hitting a wall of sound making it unbearable to move forward, but none of them wanted to retreat either. A complete standstill.

The one in front tries to communicate. It is so angry.

"What's it saying?"

That you want the weapon for yourself, that they are the Eyeless and want only to study it. That they had nothing to do with the death of Arcopolis.

The Doctor studied the glass men silently, an idea blooming slow in his mind regarding the problem he had earlier. Out loud, he said, "It calls itself an Eyeless, but it has eyes."

The Gyll-who-was-not moved forward, as did a number of the other imprints. They all peered into the glass head, saw the two eyeballs mounted there. The Eyeless squirmed under the scrutiny, but ultimately did nothing, standing its ground. The imprints looked around at each other, puzzled and suspicious. Not-Gyll looked back for an explanation, ghostly eyebrows furrowed in a trouble manner.

"The eyes didn't belong to it originally," the Doctor confirmed. "Ask who it took the eyes from."

The imprint swept over to the Eyeless, who writhed, tried to escape as the memories were taken, but it couldn't lie. Not-Gyll floated in front of the Eyeless for a few seconds, like an attentive listener. It stared into the bright green eyeballs, taking it all in, before turning to look back at the Doctor, shocked. It was remembering it all, the moment of Jall's death, the drinking in of her last terrified thoughts, the taking of the eyes. Finally, words shakily appeared on the psychic paper.

Dela had a daughter?

"Yes, Jall was her firstborn."

We only talked about children.

The ghost didn't seem to know if it had heard good news or not. Treading carefully with his words, the Doctor explained how things had changed since Gyll had died, how all the women needed to have many children, not just Dela, for the people of Acropolis to survive. Confirmed that Dela was, in fact, still alive but hinted heavily that it could change in an instant. That she should be safe but with the existence of the Eyeless, it couldn't be for certain. How he had made a promise to Dela. "You can help me keep it," the Doctor told the imprint. "But there's a cost..."

Gyll held out a finger, almost touching the Doctor's lips. There was no need to say more.

Then it fell onto the Eyeless with Jall's eyes, hands thrust out like talons, thrusting its elbows deep into the glass chest. The imprint was silently screaming, swirling through the body and mind of the Eyeless. The other glass men were powerless to move, let alone defend their colleague. The one with Jall's eyes fell over on its side, writhing and its glass body was losing its crystal clarity, looking almost charred instead. It shakily tried to raise its right hand and use the weapon embedded there, but couldn't summon any light.

A second ghost hurtled past the Doctor and through another of the Eyeless. Then another and another and another. All of them, throwing themselves into the Eyeless ranks, tearing the strength of the glass men out with their bare hands. The imprints were dashed to pieces as they hit the Eyeless, vanishing when they touched anyone, as they had before, but they eroded their opponents in turn. The Eyeless could do nothing to fight them off, their blows going right through the blast shadows like air... It was eerie, how silent it all was. Neither party able to physically utter a sound.

As each imprint sacrificed itself, their light faded, and the interior of the Fortress grew a little darker.

"An eye for an eye," the Doctor muttered, so softly the words were almost drowned out by the sound of shattering glass when the Eyeless's glass bodies finally deteriorated past the point of no return. Wearily, he watched, waited until the inevitable moment when the last light faded. He felt no satisfaction from this, no closure, but bore witness, feeling as if he owed this much to Arcopolitans.

Kill you.

The words crashed through the Doctor's mental defences with the force of a wrecking ball, filled with anger and utter hatred. All but one Eyeless had disappeared, its once smooth crystalline body was now tainted and cover in deep pits, gouged out by the imprints. It seemed to have only survived by sheer force of will. With spite and its rage alone to fuel it, it rose to its knees shaking and shivering violently, diluted broken light seeped from its damaged right hand.

Of course, the last surviving Eyeless had to be the one with Jall's eyes.

Kill you, it said again but with the Doctor's own voice. He was the bringer of darkness, the oncoming storm, the murderer of whole worlds... The Time Lord found that he couldn't tell if he was thinking that, or if the Eyeless was thinking it for him. Exterminate.

The Doctor paused, gazing into the dead green eyes that stared on into forever. "I have something for you," he said suddenly. "You can't have the weapon," the Doctor was quick to say, digging into his pocket for a familiar shape, "...buuuuuut..."

He held out a small metal object on a loop of chain.

"How about this key, instead?" The Eyeless looked at it doubtfully, the water light on its right hand still shining threateningly. "You were right, y'know, that blue box really is a time machine, but you've not been able to get inside, have you? Let's make a deal." The Doctor glanced down at the pieces of glass scattered on the gantry, eyebrow furrowed in thought. "You ran the numbers, choose to risk it anyway," he said quietly. "Well, run these numbers: if you let me live and let me destroy the weapon, you can have my TARDIS."

The Eyeless lunged forward, the light fading from its right hand to grab the key, but the Doctor held it out of reach. The glass man almost toppled over from moving so suddenly. The Time Lord backed away until he had recovered the same amount of space between them as before.

"The most important thing is destroying the weapon," the Doctor murmured, almost to himself. "No one should have it. Not you, not me, no one. I will pay any price to see that weapon broken in half." The key dangled tantalisingly out of the reach of the Eyeless. "This is the deal: you watch me destroy the weapon, I give you the key. I'll just stay here, with the villagers. Live out my life. Look after them, if they'll have me." The Doctor paused, sagging a little. He continued coaxingly, "I can do good here. You get a time machine and you can fly off in it. Hand on hearts, right now I can't imagine you'd do any more harm than I've already done..."

He finally looked straight at the Eyeless, a glint in his eyes and a strange little quirk to his lips, "You're a strategist, yeah? A rational being. It's a good deal, and you know it. Particularly for you as an individual..."

The Eyeless stilled.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of ambition," the Doctor assured it, raising an eyebrow. "Eh? Know what I mean?"

The Eyeless held out its hand demandingly, twitching its fingers.

"Say no more, you can have it once I've destroyed the weapon, we'll go outside and

It stepped forward again, jerking its hand impatiently.

The Doctor strained to look around it, both sides, but saw no other way out. "Oh… alright.' Its glass wrist had begun to ripple, eager for the trophy. The Eyeless gazed longingly at the TARDIS key, the possibilities surging through its mind, growing and growing until it could no longer contain its greed, leaping again for the Doctor. This time, it snatched the lapels of the Doctor's coat with six-fingered hands, and shook him, again trying to breech the Time Lord's mind.

There was something the Doctor wasn't saying, wasn't there? His secret. That it was the Doctor who —

"Oh, shut it," the Doctor snarled, gripping one of the glass hands threateningly. The psychic onslaught continued and for a moment, they were eye to eye. The bright green, unblinking, stolen eyes. The Doctor and the Eyeless both understood what had to happen next, and that it would soon all be over.

"You're a thief," the Doctor murmured lowly, his voice a dangerous purr. He leaned in close, his mouth hovering by side of the Eyeless' head. "A murderer... And I meant everything I said, you know. You had your chance and you blew it."

The Eyeless thrust its hand into the bag to steal the weapon. The Doctor threw his hand out to stop it.

A hand brushed against the weapon and grabbed it.

The weapon fired.

An instant later, and the Doctor was alone in the darkness.

A/N: Hi... Yes, hello, this story still lives yet, I just needed to take a break and eventually got distracted by other things.

Writing (in general) had become very hard for me, and I felt little desire to write more than drabbles. Probably didn't help when my old laptop went kaput and I lost all my files and everything;;; And the life threw its own curveballs, pushing everything back further;;;

Basically, it was hard, but I pushed through to the end of this chapter, no matter how much it felt like I was pulling teeth... tbh, I only really enjoyed writing the Alsa pov this chapter. It just felt like everything was dragging on.

In any case, the arc ends for sure next chapter and the bit everyone was waiting for happens for real, at least in part. I have idea where I want to go and we'll see how far it takes me.

Best,

Stars.