Chapter 1
He scratched at his chin, still expecting to feel hair that wasn’t there. It wasn’t that he couldn’t grow facial hair, but he felt it didn’t fit with the lack of hair on his head. His TARDIS stopped, making a sound he hadn’t heard before and pulling him forward ever so slightly. He had to grab onto the console to stop himself from falling over.
Moments later he stepped out of his ship. Something about this place felt wrong, and after taking a quick look around he knew it didn’t look right. The air even felt wrong in a way he couldn’t pinpoint.
He was in a large room with black marble floors, white glimmering veins running through it. Large thin pillars made of the same material lined the room. It seemed to go on forever until he noticed that mirrors had been placed on every wall, making it seem larger than it was. Still a large room, just not infinite. Not quite his taste in decor, but he could appreciate it nonetheless.
When he looked back to his TARDIS it had taken the shape of one of the pillars. The only distinction between that and the other ones was its placement. He slowly touched a metal rod in his pocket to assure the safety of his TARDIS, locking the doors and activating his defense system.
As he turned around he quickly jumped back. A short woman who appeared to be a nun was standing before him, holding something in her hands. Before he could say or do anything she reached for his hand and poked his finger with what looked like a pen attached to a metal box with a coiled cord.
As the pen pricked his finger and drew blood, the Master pulled his hand away, instinctively pulling it up to his mouth. “Ow,” he hissed at her. “What was that for?” It didn’t taste like anything had been added to his system.
“It’s the law set into place by the President,” she replied in an unenthusiastic tone.
“It’s what?” he began with a mix of anger and annoyance. “It’s the law to just walk up to people and poke them with...” He waved his hands vaguely toward the machine. “...whatever that is? Who do you think you are? Do you have any idea who I am?”
The woman’s face dropped. A flash of every human emotion passed across her face in mere seconds before she settled on contempt. She looked from one side of the room to the next. “You know, you could have just told me who you are instead of playing these games with me. It’s bad enough you’ve wormed your way into being the president of the entire universe, but now you question orders you yourself gave me. Really, can’t you ever just be upfront about anything?”
“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said in his most sickeningly sweet voice, trying to peek at what was on the screen of the metal box.
Noticing this, she pulled it closer to her chest, almost glaring at him. That same moment he could hear another set of feet coming their way. He glanced behind him to see that a glass panel had been moved to reveal a door frame, through which strode a tall man with short, thinning, sandy red hair and something almost resembling a beard. It reminded him of someone who normally would have shaved but had forgotten to for a few days, but there was also something that looked very intentional about it.
The man stopped a few feet from where the two were standing. “Who is this?” he hissed at the nun before turning to face the Master. “What are you doing in here?” Both noticed and ignored the nun rolling her eyes. He looked past the bald man to the misplaced pillar. A movement, no, a flicker of despondent crossed his face. “Oh, I see. Your chameleon circuit works, then?”
Before either could say another word, the nun spoke up. “I could see one of you not knowing, but both?” she said sharply, not hiding the anger in her voice. “It’s bad enough I have to go around cleaning up the messes you make around here and twisting it to look like you are the good guy. But I will not be a part of this, whatever this is. I have choir practice to get to, anyway.” With that, she clicked her heels and stormed off.
The Master grinned. He now had enough information about what was going on to find this amusing. As he turned to face the man he could only assume was himself, he noticed the same smirk on his face. Still with his eye on the nun as she left the room, the other man spoke first. “It was worth it just to see that.”
“President of the universe?” the Master said in slight awe.
The red-headed Master quickly turned to face the bald one. “Yes, everything you see, feel, taste, or touch is mine.” He looked very pleased with himself for a moment. “But she has a point. I can only assume you’re me. But seeing as I don’t know you and you don’t know me, I can only conclude that you’re not from around here, are you?”
Despite this clearly being a rhetorical question, the Master decided not to answer, knowing that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t hesitate to come back with some witty remark. It had only been another flicker in his expression but that’s all it took. The Master recognized it immediately; he was plotting something, and he knew whatever it was would probably not be good for him. After all, he did know himself very well, even if this was an alternate version of himself.
Without waiting for an answer, the president Master moved his hand to the door. “Shall I show you my universe?” he said, not hiding a wicked grin that most people would confuse for being polite.
