Chapter 434: The Origin of the Cybermen
"Does it really matter whether we go back or not?" Allen asked curiously.
From his perspective, it made no difference. Either way, it was just another mission to grind for XP.
Besides, if they stayed long enough, aliens would eventually show up and provide more experience points.
After all, Doctor Who was fundamentally about an alien orphan protecting humanity.
Sure, the premise sounded absurd, but humans did love shows that gave them a mental climax.
"It makes a huge difference," the Doctor replied solemnly. "The birth of a new parallel universe creates unpredictable changes. What's crucial is this—TARDIS can't travel into the past in parallel universes. It can only go forward in time. That's because these universes don't have a past timeline."
"Traveling into the future doesn't sound too bad."
Allen couldn't care less about some aristocrat's history of wetting their pants. Just thinking about it made him feel like he was on the brink of a breakdown.
Meanwhile, the Doctor looked as if he were bearing the weight of the world.
All his friends were back in his original universe. Here, he was utterly alone.
Well, the weirdo beside him could barely count as a not-quite-friend friend.
"TARDIS can't access time energy here. Future travel is off the table," the Doctor said helplessly.
Why did the Doctor always land in London? Because there was a stable time fissure under the Thames that recharged the TARDIS during each landing, enabling time travel.
Time Lords could only use time energy—they couldn't control or create time.
In Time Lord theory, that level of control could only be achieved by a Level 7 civilization.
But even during their golden age, when the Time Lords explored every corner of the universe, they never found any trace of such a civilization.
Which actually made sense. If a Level 6 civilization could already time travel, then Level 7 civilizations probably transcended physical existence—and wiped all traces of themselves from every time and space before they left.
A Level 7 civilization could create a universe from scratch—why would it care about anything inside it?
Like a down jacket factory owner caring about a beggar's threadbare coat.
The Doctor decided to visit one of the few important people in his life.
The two of them stood out like sore thumbs on the street.
The Doctor's retro outfit and world-weary aura gave him an unmistakable last-century British vibe.
Allen, as always, wore what looked like a patient's hospital gown.
Thankfully, this society was very open-minded. As long as you weren't running around naked, nobody cared how you dressed.
What's more, most people wore smart devices with neural link functions—sort of like AR—to create a mixed reality experience.
Still, they couldn't escape a few disdainful glances from Black passersby.
Without visible smart devices, they were automatically seen as broke and low-class.
Knock knock knock…
They stopped in front of a standalone apartment. The Doctor knocked on the door.
Soon, an East Asian woman opened it.
At the sight of her, the Doctor's face fell.
"Psylocke?!"
The Doctor didn't know her—but Allen did.
The woman at the door was Psylocke from Allen's universe, a mutant with whom he shared some rather unpleasant memories.
This Psylocke was a counterpart with no shared memories.
According to the comics, Psylocke eventually followed Captain Britain, so showing up in London made perfect sense.
"Who are you looking for?" she asked, puzzled.
"Elisabeth, who's at the door?" a blonde white woman called out as she walked over.
"Clara," the Doctor breathed, eyes lighting up.
But when he saw Clara's confused expression, the light quickly faded.
He realized with a jolt that in this parallel timeline, Doctor Who didn't exist.
Which made sense. The Time Lords had long since used temporal technology to lock themselves into a singular existence across parallel universes—meaning no counterparts could exist.
"If you two have no business here, please leave immediately. Otherwise, we'll call the police," Elisabeth warned, her tone sharp.
Two strange men showing up out of nowhere would freak anyone out.
"Sorry, wrong address," the Doctor said, turning away in disappointment.
Allen blinked and followed, thinking that sticking with the NPC was still his best bet for finding XP mobs.
Once he hit level 120, he could return home anytime he wanted.
"Hey, Ten—I think those two are a couple," Allen said confidently.
The Doctor lowered his head, clearly deep in thought.
It was obvious: in this entirely unfamiliar universe, he felt no sense of belonging.
As the last of the Time Lords, the Doctor constantly made new friends to suppress his loneliness.
Now, paired with someone who wasn't exactly sociable, he found himself at a loss.
Suddenly, Allen placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.
"You don't have to comfort me. I'm just thinking about how to get back to my own timeline."
The Doctor, still deep in thought, assumed Allen was trying to console him.
"You're gonna hit something."
At Allen's warning, the Doctor looked up—only to see that all the pedestrians on the street had frozen in place.
What the hell?
Instantly, the Doctor's eyes sharpened.
Everyone knew the Doctor couldn't step outside without running into trouble.
"Hey there, beautiful! Morning! Add me on Momo—I'm always hooking up on there. My ID's '28cm Marco Polo,'" Allen greeted a passerby.
But the woman stood still, as if frozen in time.
Turning to the Doctor, Allen said, "Ten, I've seen this plot before—thirty rounds of time-stop assault, usually in subways, schools, pools, or hospitals. Out on the street like this? Way too bold. I'm barely holding it together."
He even put on a bashful face.
"Why do you keep calling me Ten?" the Doctor asked, frowning.
"Well, you're the Tenth Doctor, aren't you?" Allen replied bluntly.
"…"
The Doctor froze. How did this guy know that?
In truth, he only remembered ten regenerations.
But the fact was, the Doctor wasn't originally a member of the Time Lord civilization. His very appearance had caused their existence.
Which was why the Time Lords had been searching for a Level 7 civilization all along.
If Allen had shown any malicious intent, the Doctor would've bailed a long time ago.
Buzz!
The Doctor scanned with his sonic screwdriver.
"The smart devices are upgrading."
He frowned. "But how are they controlling people's bodies?"
A sense of dread began to creep over him, though he couldn't confirm his suspicion yet.
"Upgrade complete. Cyber System Fifth Generation installed…"
At that moment, all the people on the street spoke in unison—like synchronized robots:
"Upgrade complete. Cyber System Fifth Generation installed…"
Allen and the Doctor locked eyes, wide-eyed.
"Cybermen!"
The Cybermen—frequent villains in Doctor Who—had several origin stories across different universes.
In the Doctor's universe, they were once humans living on a harsh planet. Due to widespread organ failure, they gradually replaced body parts with machinery, ultimately becoming little more than brains in metal shells.
Their prime directive: endlessly invade other civilizations and convert them into more Cybermen.
But this universe's Cybermen seemed to originate on Earth.
Compared to the Doctor's grim expression, Allen looked thrilled.
After all, Cybermen were perfect XP fodder.
"We have to stop their plan," the Doctor said gravely.
"I'm in."
Even if it wasn't his home universe, the Doctor wouldn't sit by and do nothing.
But the question was: how to trace the origin?
The situation wasn't beyond saving yet—humans hadn't been mass-converted into Cybermen.
"Lumic Corporation."
Allen spotted an ad blimp overhead with a slogan for smart devices printed on its side.
"If we know the company, it's easy—just locate their HQ. I'll need one of those smart devices."
"Got it."
Without hesitation, Allen walked up to a Black kid loitering by the road.
"Yo, yellow banana! Show me some kung fu and I'll give you a quid for fish and chips."
That level of arrogance made it guilt-free for Allen to go full justice-mode.
Smack! Smack!
Two righteous slaps later, Allen held out his hand. "Give me your headphones."
"Shit! I'm reporting you for racism! Just wait till the UK deports you!" the kid cried, tears of humiliation welling up.
Bang!
Allen slammed the boy's head against a lamppost, snatched the device, and sneered, "Acting like you're Black Panther or something."
The Doctor stood dumbfounded.
This guy was ruthless.
"Here you go," Allen said, handing over the device.
The Doctor quickly took it and shouted, "Run! The locals are definitely calling the cops."
People around them were glaring and discreetly alerting the authorities.
Sure enough, two nearby cops—both grotesquely overweight—came pedaling their bikes over.
"No way—parallel UK's still doing the eco thing?"
Allen glanced back as they ran.
Behind them were two cops puffing and wheezing on bicycles, trying to give chase.
"Hang on—I've almost cracked the Cybernet. We'll have Lumic's HQ coordinates in no time."
The Doctor's sonic screwdriver emitted a low-frequency hum as it scanned the device.
Time Lords' tools were seriously advanced—not only could they hack alien tech, but they could also repair it.
"Lumic HQ is in... New York?"
The Doctor groaned.
TARDIS had no power—so they couldn't fly anywhere.
Worse, they had no money, no documents, and couldn't even buy plane tickets.
"New York? That's my turf."
With that, Allen raised a hand and opened a portal.
The two of them stepped through—and the pursuing officers, unable to stop, followed them in.
"This spatial ability is yours?" the Doctor asked, fascinated.
"One of many," Allen replied with confidence.
They turned to the cops now huddled together, shaking like leaves.
One minute they were in London, the next—on the other side of the Atlantic. Who wouldn't freak out?
"So, pigs—wanna stay in the Land of the Free, or head home for some fish and chips?" Allen asked casually.
"Sir Wizard, I wanna go home!"
"Please, Wizard, let us go!"
The officers immediately surrendered, crying like rain-drenched blossoms.
Civilians weren't Allen's target. He opened a portal and sent them back.
[…]
Above the Thames, a portal opened in midair.
SPLASH! SPLASH!
Like depth charges, the two cops dropped into the river, spraying water several meters high.
Seeing familiar surroundings, the officers burst into tears of joy.
"We're home!"
"We survived!"
[…]
Back on the streets of New York, everyone was wearing smart devices over their ears.
Clearly, the mind-controlling tech had gone global.
"We need to move fast. The Cyber-conversions may already be underway," the Doctor said grimly.
At the heart of the city, the tallest skyscraper was the Lumic Corporation HQ.
No time for planning—they rushed toward the building.
"Why don't I see any homeless people?"
As they passed several parks, Allen noticed something odd—there were no colorful tents.
Having spent plenty of time in New York, he found that strange.
This was normally a hotbed of ideological dysfunction, with homeless people camping everywhere.
And with rights groups protecting them, even the authorities couldn't drive them out.
"Is that unusual?" the Doctor asked. "Isn't America a developed country? No homeless people sounds normal to me."
"Ten, don't fall for the squid propaganda. America's the Mecca of homelessness. They get hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants every year—think they all get jobs?"
Allen said with a straight face, "Also, they legalized weed, rig divorces in favor of women, and even screw over their own Anglo-Saxon folk."
"…"
The Doctor looked stunned.
Frankly, he didn't care much about the American situation. He was just here for the time fissure under London.
And honestly, what humans considered "advanced tech" was like cavemen tools to him.
Visiting historical figures would've been more worthwhile.
Inside the Lumic Corporation building—
Allen and the Doctor looked at the heavily armed guards in the lobby and gave up any thoughts of forcing their way through.
Of course, ordinary firearms couldn't harm Allen, and while the Doctor could resurrect, he couldn't exactly tank a barrage of bullets.
"Little Ten, want to do something exciting?" Allen asked.
"What kind of exciting?" the Doctor asked instinctively.
Allen gave a mysterious smile and reached into his pocket—naturally intending to pull out the Black Lantern Ring.
The Doctor, seeing this, felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively took a step back.
Skreeeech…
Suddenly, the sharp sound of brakes scraping.
A beat-up little truck screeched to a stop right in front of them, interrupting Allen just as he was about to draw the Black Lantern Ring.
Bang!
The door swung open, and a girl shouted, "Get in, quick! This area is under Cyberman surveillance!"
Allen and the Doctor exchanged a quick glance and dove into the truck together.
The next second, the truck tore off toward the end of the street.
"Put these on."
The girl handed over two devices and explained, "They're modified smart gear. They won't link to your brain's neural network but can emit fake signals to make you look like one of them."
Allen stared at the girl. She looked incredibly familiar, but he wasn't quite sure, so he asked, "Morgan Stark?"
Hm…
The girl looked at him in confusion. "You know me?"
Allen glanced at the driver through the rearview mirror, then said with a strange expression, "Dami!"
In an instant, everyone in the truck except the driver pulled out their guns and aimed at Allen.
"Who are you? How do you know about us?"
They had originally been scouting out the Lumic Group when they unexpectedly found two humans not wearing smart devices, so they rescued them.
But now, hearing Allen call out their names, they immediately suspected him of being a Cyberman spy.
"Morgan, I'm your grandpa. Dami, I'm your godfather."
"..."