The next chapter is going to have the engineer deal with magic. The storyline is going to be based on Christmas on a Rational Planet, the novel.
I took a break because I didn't know how to start this chapter. I was to focus on making a storyline of her in Gallifrey Academy, which I'm thinking probably chapter 11 or 15, she will go before the Time War and the war in heaven
Also quick question: will you be ok with me writing the engineer going back in Gallifrey's past to stop Rassilon from "Anchoring the Thread," a massive act of reality-shaping that installed their preferred laws of physics across all of space and time?
And have time lords use both dimensional technology with magic, cause I want time lords to be so unique compared to other races that only other higher races can be on their level
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The flat was quiet except for the soft mechanical purr of Omega's embryonic heart—the TARDIS seed humming from inside its containment cradle like a sleeping animal. The young Engineer sat cross-legged on the floor, datapads, printouts, and holographic screens scattered around her in a mess that only she understood.
Her own face stared back at her from the glowing interface: The Engineer, mythic figure of time, horror of gods and monsters, the creature whispered about in human myths as Death's hand and Time's daughter.
Except this "legend" had a bag of chips balanced on her knee and a system interface floating over her lap that read:
She sighed, mouth half-full of salt and vinegar. "So… you're telling me I'm basically the bogeyman with a wrench. Fantastic."
[SYSTEM:]
[Clarification: temporal paradox indicates this persona is one of your potential futures, not a guaranteed outcome.]
"Oh, great. So I might not turn into a living eldritch Wikipedia article." She brushed a crumb from her coat. "But hey, that hair? Not bad. I could rock the 'god of death chic.'"
The System pulsed softly in front of her. It never spoke in a voice, not exactly; it was thought, text, concept, and light. But she swore it liked to judge her tone sometimes.
[SYSTEM:]
[Query detected: probability of alternate regeneration paths.]
She blinked. "Hold up—wait, are you reading my thoughts again?"
[SYSTEM:]
[Always and forever🙂 ]
"Creepy." She tilted her head, thinking. "Alright, fine. You've got my curiosity now. So—regeneration. If I'm a Time Lady, that means I can change my body, right? Swap gender, species, even—"
Her eyes lit up. "Could I regenerate into, like, a goth high elf? You know, pale, pointy ears, silver hair, tragic violin music following me around?"
The System paused for a long, suspicious second.
[SYSTEM:]
[Processing. Clarification: Regeneration is not a cosmetic transformation. Regeneration is the reassertion of infinite potential into finite matter. It is the act of cosmic balance correcting the probabilities of one's existence.]
"…Translation: No?"
[SYSTEM:]
[Partial affirmation: 'No'—with complications.]
She leaned back, balancing her chin on her palm. "Okay, System, explain like I'm five. A really smart five-year-old."
A new line of text flickered into existence, accompanied by a faint pulse of violet energy from the TARDIS seed.
[SYSTEM:]
[Time Lords regenerate because they do not fully exist within mundane reality. Their true forms reside in higher-dimensional probability space. Every time their physical shell dies, the universe 'resolves' one of the infinite outcomes that could be them. This maintains cosmic balance.]
She stared at the words, half in awe, half in confusion. "So… it's not healing. It's… like rolling dice on the multiverse version of me?"
[SYSTEM:]
[No, there is no multiverse version of you. Every version of you in the multiverse has the same true body and mind, which simply stretches across the multiverse. So, no evil universe version of you, but there are different timeline versions of you.]
"That's… actually kind of metal." She grinned. "So theoretically, if I rolled the dice hard enough, one version of me could come out looking like a goth elf."
[SYSTEM:]
Only if that outcome exists within your probability manifold, or you can just force the probability.]
[p.s. The doctor just really suck at Regeneration and other time lords' abilities.]
She frowned, picking up one of her printouts—a diagram of her quadruple-helix DNA glowing faintly in holographic blue. The extra-dimensional "fast line" linking her to the Vortex pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. "So I'm already kinda weird," she muttered. "Half math, half nightmare fuel, all fabulous."
[SYSTEM:]
[Affirmation: Your biology is a paradox. You exist simultaneously as physical matter and a temporal concept. This allows regeneration.]
"Cool, cool…" she said slowly. Then, smirking, "So if I really wanted to, I could still have the ears."
[SYSTEM:]
[Cosmetic modifications are achievable post-regeneration through molecular resculpting.]
"Ha! Gotcha." She pointed triumphantly at the floating words. "Engineer: one, cosmic laws of probability: zero."
But the system didn't reply. It simply pulsed, faintly warmer, almost… fond.
The Engineer lay back on the floor, staring up at the spinning hologram of her own DNA. It looked like a constellation trapped in glass, shifting every few seconds into impossible geometric alignments.
Her mind wandered to the stories she'd just read — the Engineer of myth, the god-thing in the whistling storm, the being who walked between life and death. The idea that she could ever become that was absurd.
And yet…
Something in her bones whispered that it wasn't just possible. It was inevitable.
She whispered, "Is it wrong that I kinda want to meet her? My future self, I mean. She seems… insane. But the good kind of insane."
[SYSTEM:]
[Temporal self-interaction forbidden until a stable causal loop is established.]
"Boo."
Omega pulsed faintly from its containment cradle, responding to her voice. A harmonic vibration rippled through the air, warm and faintly teasing.
"Yeah, yeah, don't laugh at me," she muttered, rolling onto her side. "You're barely hatched. You don't even have sarcasm protocols yet."
The hum deepened, almost like a sleepy purr.
She smiled. "Alright, fine. You're adorable. But I still want my elf ears."
She sat up again, stretching, and turned to the System. "So, theoretical question: if regeneration is cosmic balance, what happens if the balance doesn't want to restore itself? What if a Time Lord cheats?"
[SYSTEM:]
[Error: Define "cheat."]
"You know… keeps their old face. Or regenerates without dying. Or skips the process entirely."
A faint pulse of static flickered through the text window, like the System itself hesitated.
[SYSTEM:]
[Cheating the regeneration cycle unravels possibility space. The being becomes a fixed point — a paradox unanchored. They may gain power, but their body will try to regenerate endlessly, which will cause Regenerative dissonance. This mental illness is explored in the audio dramas. It is caused by the personalities of previous incarnations lingering inside the mind of the current one, exerting influence and causing severe psychological torment. Some Time Lords suffering from this condition have committed suicide to escape the "voices" of their past selves.]
[ or you just blow up with the energy of a big bang that will damage the web of time]
The air around her seemed to dim slightly, the shadows thickening like liquid ink.
[SYSTEM:]
[ Only gods, or fools, would attempt it twice.]
She gulped. "Okay. So no messing with regeneration. Got it. No paradox-suicide."
Then, softer, she added, "Still. Infinite versions of me… somewhere out there. Kind of lonely, isn't it?"
The TARDIS seed pulsed again — like a heartbeat.
[SYSTEM:]
[ Not all versions of you are alone.]
She froze. "What's that supposed to mean?"
[SYSTEM:]
[ Data redacted.]
"Oh, come on! That's not fair—"
A sharp pop! of static cut the System mid-text. All her holograms glitched for half a second. The lights dimmed. And then, through the window, she saw the faint flicker of something wrong outside the streetlights below her flat, sputtering, shadows bending in ways that shouldn't be possible.
The Engineer frowned. "Uh-oh."
She tapped the air, trying to open a local scan. The System hesitated, then spat out a single line:
[WARNING: Artron spike detected. Temporal coherence failure within 6 km radius. Probability field degradation 23%.]
"…In English?"
[SYSTEM:]
[Reality is leaking.]
"Oh, that's just lovely." She stood, dusting off her coat. "And here I was hoping to have a nice existential crisis without the universe catching fire again."
Omega pulsed in response, brighter this time. The containment cradle quivered.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm not ready to move you yet. Stay put," she said, pointing a mock-stern finger at it. "Mommy's gotta go check what fresh nonsense England's up to this week."
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Wordcount-1424 is a shorter chapter, so I can have more time to think about how to write this all out