It took the group two days to return to the landship.
The journey was quiet for the most part, though the atmosphere among the group had changed considerably.
After everything that had happened in Kazdel, Abertha and Protector were no longer treated as outsiders.
Theresa had personally assigned both of them to Babel's elite squad.
The result was surprisingly immediate.
Abertha quickly found herself getting along with the others, while Protector proved to be far more sociable than anyone had initially expected.
Their friendship was sealed in the most traditional way possible—
Alcohol.
A lot of it.
By the time they returned to the landship, the two had already bonded with several members of the elite squad over drinks, war stories, and increasingly questionable arguments about who could survive the longest without sleep.
Meanwhile, Theresa's return was far less peaceful.
The moment she stepped back aboard the landship, Kal'tsit summoned her.
The Doctor was called as well.
Neither of them was given much explanation.
Only that someone had been waiting for Theresa to return.
Someone who had deliberately remained hidden until she came back.
Someone who had asked Kal'tsit to keep his identity secret.
Theresa followed the Doctor through the corridors of the landship, her expression thoughtful.
[Doctor]: Do you know who we're meeting?
Theresa shook her head gently.
A pause.
[Theresa]: Kal'tsit only said that he wanted to speak with me personally.
The Doctor glanced toward her.
[Doctor]: That sounds reassuring.
Theresa gave a small laugh.
[Theresa]: With Kal'tsit?
A brief pause.
[Doctor]: Probably not.
They continued walking.
Neither noticed the faint figure standing at the far end of the corridor.
Watching.
Waiting.
The door ahead slowly opened.
Kal'tsit stood inside.
Her expression was as unreadable as ever.
But she wasn't alone.
Someone stood behind her.
A man.
White hair.
A halo.
And eyes that seemed to carry far more history than any living person should possess.
Theresa stopped.
Her breath caught.
For a moment—
She couldn't speak.
The Doctor looked between them.
Kal'tsit remained silent.
The stranger smiled.
Not cruelly.
Not warmly.
Just...
Tiredly.
[Scholar]: It's been a long time, Theresa.
Silence.
Theresa's eyes widened.
She took one slow step forward.
The Scholar's smile widened slightly.
The Doctor looked at Kal'tsit.
Then at Theresa.
Then back at the stranger.
For once—
Even the Doctor seemed unsure what to say.
Kal'tsit finally spoke.
[Kal'tsit]: He insisted on waiting until you returned.
A pause.
[Kal'tsit]: He said there were things you needed to hear from him directly.
The Scholar's gaze slowly lowered.
For the first time since arriving—
The faint smile disappeared.
His expression became still.
Serious.
[Scholar]: And there is very little time left.
A brief pause.
He looked between Kal'tsit and Theresa.
[Scholar]: So perhaps we should begin this meeting properly.
He placed a hand against his chest.
[Scholar]: The Scholar.
A small gesture toward himself.
[Scholar]: The Black Crown King.
Another.
[Scholar]: The World Watcher.
His crimson eyes shifted toward the Doctor.
Then toward Theresa.
[Scholar]: And you...
A pause.
His voice lowered.
[Scholar]: The Doctor.
Another beat.
[Scholar]: Or should I call you...
The Scholar's eyes narrowed.
[Scholar]: The Prophet of the Old Civilization?
The Doctor's eyes widened.
For the first time since the meeting began, genuine vigilance entered his expression.
[Doctor]: Who are you?
The Scholar stared at him.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then—
He laughed.
Not warmly.
Not with amusement.
It was a bitter, hollow laugh.
He tilted his head slightly.
[Scholar]: Did the old man really forget about me?
A pause.
His hand moved toward the collar of his robe.
[Scholar]: Then allow me to remind you.
He grabbed the fabric.
And tore it away.
The robe fell from his shoulders.
Silence.
Across his chest was a massive, ancient burn scar.
The flesh had been warped so badly that it looked as though something had tried to brand the very bones beneath it.
And carved into the scar—
Clear enough to remain after all these years—
were four characters.
[00.T.C]
Theresa's expression changed.
Kal'tsit's eyes narrowed.
The Doctor froze.
The Scholar placed a hand over the scar.
His fingers trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From anger.
[Scholar]: Do you remember now?
Silence.
The Doctor didn't answer.
The Scholar's crimson eyes hardened.
[Scholar]: I was that uncivilized, six-armed creature you saw when you first landed on this land.
A pause.
His voice became colder.
[Scholar]: The thing you deemed unworthy of understanding.
Another.
[Scholar]: The thing you experimented on.
The Scholar's fingers tightened over the scar.
[Scholar]: The thing you branded.
His gaze never left the Doctor.
[Scholar]: And the thing you abandoned.
A long silence followed.
Then—
[Scholar]: I have a name.
He pointed toward himself.
His voice carried absolute certainty.
[Scholar]: Not your designation. Not [00.T.C]. Not some specimen number written on a laboratory report.
A pause.
His expression twisted with restrained fury.
[Scholar]: So don't you dare call me by that damned designation again.
The Doctor remained silent.
His gaze stayed fixed on the scar across the Scholar's chest.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then the Scholar exhaled.
Some of the tension finally left his shoulders.
[Scholar]: Now that is off my chest...
He pulled his robe back over his shoulders.
[Scholar]: Let us begin.
The Doctor's expression remained guarded.
But before the Scholar could continue—
The Scholar paused.
[Doctor]: Before that...
A brief silence.
The Doctor's voice became quieter.
[Doctor]: What happened to the others?
His eyes narrowed.
[Doctor]: And how are you still alive?
The Scholar stared at him.
Then—
A smile slowly appeared.
Not the bitter smile from before.
Something older.
Almost amused.
[Scholar]: Still asking questions.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
[Scholar]: Some things truly never change.
He folded his arms.
[Scholar]: Very well.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Let me tell you what happened.
The faint amusement disappeared from his face.
[Scholar]: All of your projects failed.
Silence.
[Scholar]: Every one of them.
His eyes remained fixed on the Doctor.
[Scholar]: Every experiment. Every plan. Every attempt to preserve what your civilization had built.
A beat.
The Doctor's expression tightened.
The Scholar continued.
[Scholar]: Your people are gone.
A pause.
[Scholar]: All of them.
The words fell with brutal simplicity.
[Scholar]: Your civilization died.
Another pause.
[Scholar]: And as for the others...
His gaze lowered slightly.
[Scholar]: They are dead as well.
The Doctor's expression barely changed.
But Kal'tsit noticed the subtle tightening of his hand.
The Scholar noticed it too.
Then—
[Scholar]: And your beloved Priestess?
A long pause.
His voice became quieter.
[Scholar]: She went mad.
The Doctor's eyes widened slightly.
The Scholar nodded once.
[Scholar]: The woman you trusted more than anyone.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Whatever remained of her after everything that happened...
His expression became grim.
[Scholar]: ...wasn't the woman you knew anymore.
Silence.
The Doctor stared at him.
Then—
[Doctor]: You had something to do with it?
The Scholar's expression immediately hardened.
The answer came without hesitation.
[Scholar]: I had no hand in what happened to her.
A beat.
[Scholar]: And if I did...
His crimson eyes met the Doctor's.
Cold.
Absolute.
[Scholar]: You would have been dead too.
Silence filled the room.
The Scholar's voice softened slightly.
[Scholar]: I may hate what you did to me.
A pause.
[Scholar]: I may hate what your people did to this world.
Another.
[Scholar]: But I did not destroy you.
He looked toward the distant horizon.
[Scholar]: You survived because someone—or something—wanted you to.
Then his gaze returned to the Doctor.
[Scholar]: The same cannot be said for the civilization you once called home.
A long silence followed.
Finally, the Scholar sighed.
He gestured toward the table.
[Scholar]: If you're finished asking about the dead...
A faint smile returned.
[Scholar]: We can finally discuss why I came here.
He reached for his canteen and took a slow drink.
The liquid burned faintly as it passed his throat.
For a moment, he simply stared toward the horizon.
Then—
[Scholar]: I'm here to tell you about the future of this land.
He lowered the canteen.
His expression became unusually serious.
[Scholar]: And let me tell you something now.
A pause.
[Scholar]: There are only three paths left.
Silence settled over the room.
Even Kal'tsit stopped moving.
The Doctor watched him carefully.
[Scholar]: The first...
He raised one finger.
[Scholar]: Is to use a city built from the bodies of all the dead Oathkeepers as an altar.
A brief pause.
[Scholar]: With the help of a powerful enough Furnace, we could turn that entire city into a single source of energy.
His gaze hardened.
[Scholar]: A beam strong enough to pierce the boundaries of the Originium World itself.
Theresa's expression slowly changed.
[Scholar]: If we succeed...
A pause.
[Scholar]: We could enter it.
[Doctor]: And change it from within.
The Scholar nodded.
Silence.
[Scholar]: But there is a price.
His voice became quieter.
[Scholar]: You would die.
The Doctor didn't react.
[Scholar]: And the Priestess...
A beat.
[Scholar]: The one hiding within the system you created...
His eyes narrowed.
[Scholar]: Would cease to be a person.
The Scholar's fingers tightened around the canteen.
[Scholar]: Her consciousness would be reduced to a mindless program.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Fixed settings. Fixed responses. No freedom.
His gaze lowered.
[Scholar]: She would exist...
Another pause.
[Scholar]: But she would no longer truly be her.
The room remained silent.
Then the Scholar raised a second finger.
[Scholar]: The second path.
He looked directly at the Doctor.
[Scholar]: You continue along the path you have already chosen.
[Doctor]: The plan continues.
A faint smile appeared.
[Scholar]: And eventually...
He shook his head.
[Scholar]: You will face many Definities.
The word carried weight.
[Scholar]: More than you can imagine.
A pause.
[Scholar]: People you know will die.
His voice remained calm.
Almost cruelly calm.
[Scholar]: People you haven't even met yet.
Another pause.
[Scholar]: Some of them will die because of your choices.
The Scholar took another drink.
Then—
[Scholar]: But in the end...
His crimson eyes met the Doctor's.
[Scholar]: You will succeed.
Silence.
[Scholar]: Your mission will be completed.
He lowered the canteen.
[Scholar]: The world will survive.
A pause.
[Scholar]: At a terrible cost.
The Scholar raised three fingers.
But he hesitated.
For the first time, uncertainty appeared in his expression.
[Scholar]: And the third...
A long silence.
[Scholar]: The third path was supposed to be the simplest.
He looked toward Theresa.
Then Kal'tsit.
Then finally the Doctor.
[Scholar]: We could have used a Hero.
A pause.
[Scholar]: One willing to sacrifice himself.
His voice became quieter.
[Scholar]: A Hero powerful enough to become the vessel.
Another pause.
[Scholar]: The souls...
[Scholar]: The memories...
[Scholar]: The bodies...
He slowly closed his hand.
[Scholar]: Everything left behind by the dead Oathkeepers would be gathered into a single existence.
[Scholar]: One ultimate Oath.
Silence.
[Scholar]: The Ultimate Oathkeeper.
The words seemed to linger in the air.
Then—
The Scholar's expression darkened.
[Scholar]: But we can't.
The Doctor narrowed his eyes.
The Scholar looked away.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then—
[Scholar]: Because the Hero is gone.
A pause.
[Scholar]: The one person who could have carried that burden...
His fingers tightened around the canteen.
[Scholar]: ...is no longer available to us.
Silence.
[Scholar]: And without him...
He slowly shook his head.
[Scholar]: The third path cannot happen.
The Scholar looked back at the Doctor.
[Scholar]: Three futures.
A beat.
[Scholar]: One sacrifices you.
[Scholar]: One sacrifices everyone around you.
[Scholar]: And one requires a Hero who is no longer here.
His smile returned.
But there was no humor in it.
He took another sip from his canteen.
[Scholar]: Which future do you intend to choose, Doctor?
[Chapter end]
[Scholar Story.]
The Scholar was the first—and only—truly sentient creature the Doctor's civilization ever discovered that did not belong to any known species of Terra.
He was unlike anything they had encountered before.
He possessed no identifiable ancestry, no recognizable evolutionary lineage, and no obvious explanation for how a creature so fundamentally different from every known form of life had developed true intelligence.
To the researchers, the discovery was extraordinary.
They had spent centuries studying the origins of life, yet here stood a living contradiction to everything they thought they understood.
A creature that appeared to have evolved into sentience entirely on its own.
Naturally, they wanted answers.
So they began experimenting on him.
At first, the experiments were meant to be observational—studying his biology, his intelligence, his unusual physiology, and the mechanisms behind his consciousness.
But curiosity slowly became obsession, then taboo.]