(AN: One of the good things about timey wimey is that I can do things out of the order of "regular time", which is the curve-ball I threw you all in this last chapter.)

(Seriously, there was so much about the Empress' ending in The Two Thrones that bespoke of Timelord, which is why I wanted to include her arc in this story. Now we have at last come to this part, the end of the beginning.)

The Journey Begins

London 2013. The Doctor that sat outside of his TARDIS was a different man than the one who had ran with the Empress of Time and Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid. True, he had not regenerated and his face was exactly the same, but it was not the same. The Doctor was darker, sadder, grimmer and more broken-hearted. He had watched as the last of the Weeping Angels forever tore Amy and Rory out of his life and he stood there, powerless to stop it. Just as he had stood and watched Faruuk give his life for both of them and he had been powerless to stop it.

But he was an enigma, that much was certain. Just as much as the young Clara Oswald, out front of whose block he was now sitting. He defied everything the Doctor believed in and had shown him something worth discovering. Now he was gone, unlike Clara who had died, come back again, died and then come back again a third time. All things were secondary to the mystery of Clara, especially how Faruuk had said that if he had died, time would be undone and yet, it seemed, he had died and time wound on its course. Perhaps he had been wrong, the Doctor thought in the moments after leaving the Empress. He had been wrong about many things, so it only seemed appropriate that he would have been wrong about this as well.

"Salaam, Doctor," a familiar voice greeted. "You know, you're becoming harder to find these days."

The Doctor looked up and saw Faruuk standing there, clad in a heavy black trench-coat, uncharacteristic for this kind of weather - even in London - and for one who, but a year or so ago in the Doctor's time, had been dressed in the garb of the desert people. He held himself differently as well, which made the Doctor both proud and a bit surprised.

"Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid!" he greeted. "I can call you Faruuk, right? I don't want to have to call you all of that name, like Bannakaffalatta."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, nothing," the Doctor dismissed. "But you! You are something." He looked Faruuk over, pinching his cheek. "What happened to you? The last time I saw you, that thing..."

"The Dahaka is dead," Faruuk said. "It happened centuries ago, he cannot harm us."

"But he's one of the Reapers," the Doctor whispered. "They can't be killed, not even by the Water Sword."

"His power was greatly weakened," Faruuk continued. "But he could not kill me in the past. He realized that..."

"Let me guess, time flowed through you?"

Faruuk smiled. "You're learning, Doctor. And what of the Empress?"

"Oh, she's out there somewhere, exploring the universe," the Doctor said. "And what brings you to London?"

"You, Doctor," he said. "You never helped me with my question."

"Question? What question?" the Doctor replied. "You had quite a few questions when we first met and then there was the Empress and the...you know, and I'm quite positive that I've completely and utterly...forgotten your question."

"Who are the Death's Head?" Faruuk asked.

The Doctor paused, once more getting serious. "How do you know about the Death's Head?"

"I have had visions," Faruuk said.

"Visions, is it now?" the Doctor chuckled.

"I do not sleep," Faruuk began. "Therefore they were visions. I saw a group of men and women in black, welcoming me onward to the East. They called themselves the Death's Head. Do you know anything about them?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. "They were a group of monster hunters, protectors of humanity, predating Torchwood, UNIT and every other group as well. They were situated in...Georgia! Country, not the state. They existed as both a religious order and a secret society. Very secret, until the Nazis discovered them in World War II. The Fuhrer had them all wiped out and their castle destroyed." He then smiled.

"What, Doctor?"

"Don't even try to pull the wool over my eyes, Faruuk," the Doctor said confidently. "It's 2013, I know what's been going on. Yes, I did take a break into the 19th century, but I've been popping up around this young girl who lives in the house over there." He pointed to the house. "And even though we're not as remote as Georgia, the British news media have heard about the exploits of the Death's Head. Drying up the Danube, the Battle over Rome, the Star that Fell from the Sky. You know, I might have to intervene if you keep this up."

"I have not done these things yet," Faruuk said. "But you have shown me the proper direction. And for that, I thank you. As-salamu alaykum, Doctor."

"Farewell, Faruuk," the Doctor said with a smile. Faruuk turned with a wave of his long black trench coat, and began to walk away. Then he halted, forefinger raised, and walked back over to the Doctor.

"There was something, though," he said. "Something that concerns me, which I have had some time to think about since, well, you know."

"What's that?" the Doctor asked.

"You and I, Doctor," Faruuk began. "We are opposites. My faith and your reason can never meet again as it did on the Island of Time. But you, who plays God with the lives of so many: why didn't you try to stop me?"

"Try to stop you? What do you mean?"

"I thought you would have tried to kill me," Faruuk said. "Or at least wrest control of the Vortex out of my hand. Why didn't you?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied. "Sometimes, a sad old man gets tired of fighting battles all of his days. Maybe there was something I saw in you specifically, Faruuk, that I liked. If there's anyone who I would trust to be what you are - the new Guardian of the Time Vortex - it would be you. Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid: the Epoch of the Universe. Time flows through him as though water."

"Epoch, I like that," Faruuk smiled.

"Before you go," the Doctor said, rising to his feet. "There is something I should tell you, though."

"What is that?" he asked, halting in his tracks.

"Terre Haute," the Doctor said. "Indiana."

"Why is that important?" Faruuk asked.

"You'll know," the Doctor replied with a sly wink.

Faruuk ibin al'Mayhiid turned about, walking slowly down the street before disappearing in a crowd. Whether or not he had actually disappeared or how that had happened, the Doctor could not guess. He looked up at the skies, bright and lit in the light of the sun, Sol as the Timelords called it. There were still many hours before Clara would come around, if she ever did. The Doctor, meanwhile, could continue looking up into the sky. At last it appeared, like a haze of light as it reflects off a shower of gold high in the sky. The Doctor smiled at this. Though, again, he was the Last of the Timelords, he had given Empress Kalieena the chance to explore the universe for all eternity, free of the fear of dying in between regenerations. Though, technically, she had indeed died - at the hands of an unnamed Indian vizir, wielding that clever blue dagger - she had transcended life. Rassilon's Ultimate Sanction had been passed, but not as a final solution, as he had envisioned it. The Doctor was happy: for once, everyone lived.

(AN: And we can call that the end of Faruuk "Epoch" ibin al'Mayhiid's beginning. We will see him again in A World of Light, to be posted on FictionPress, as well as the main Death's Head story as well, once that gets off to a relatively good start. I'm glad at least someone liked this story. More about his past and exactly what "the burden of God" is will be revealed in the main story. Nevertheless, thank you for the reviews and I hope to see you reviewing my other stories some time in the near future.)