Authors Note: Hurrah! I've finally uploaded something!and what do I write about? Eleven angst. Yeah, shoot me.I'm to tired to care right now.

This is based on an old poem I wrote ages ago, called "A World On Automatic" and is set in between Eleven rescuing the world from the Atraxi, and coming back to get Amy. Enjoy.

Planet Delta-5/C. Otherwise known as The Empty World.
It was built for the human colonists, those few who were hand-picked, chosen to escape life on the polluted, overcrowded New Earth. It was the biggest government project for over a millennia, even more expensive and time-consuming than Starship UK, or Project Scarlett.
Another world, a planet designated to be humanity's third home, had been located somewhere right on the edges of the Orion Nebula. Upon its surface, the brightest and best architects of New Earth had designed and had built thousands of mega-cities, imitating the retro look of the 90th century. There were no towns, or villages- indeed, by the time everything have been accounted for, there was very little remained of Delta-5/C's original environment.
What was so remarkable about the city, is that it was entirely self-sufficient. Cars ran on rials by themselves. No power stations were built, as there was simply no need for them. Each city was encased inside a huge dome, which, as well as protecting the city below, harnessed the burning rays of Delta-5/C's sun, transferring it into electrical energy to power automated system that ran the city itself. It was to be a brave new world, the last chance, another try. Back on New Earth, the phrase "third time lucky!" became the equivalent of V for Victory. The pioneers of the new world- mainly technicians and maintenance staff, of whom the world had known little before, and cared even less- found themselves treated with new respect and almost reverence. They left New Earth carrying the beacon of hope.
But they never arrived.
The disappearance of the colonists was an entire mystery. One day, all the instruments recording the path of the colonists ship on its journey went dead, for exactly one hour. when they came back on, they showed no trace of the pioneers, or their ship. Nobody know what happened.
Well, almost nobody.
The man who knows the answer to the riddle of Delta-5/C stands on its surface. A small blue box stands a few yards behind him, in between two of the gigantic domes that house the cities. He looks up at them, curving up and up, seemingly forever, before the sun hits the edge where each dome bends away from the other on its own trajectory. He can see a sliver of pale purple sky between the massive silvery-blue expanses of glass.
He didn't come here on purpose. He only meant to pop to the moon and back. but he seems to have over shot. By several billion miles. Ah well.
A car glides smoothly along its track on the other side of the glass, before vanishing into the reflected haze on the other side. A bubble of sadness wells up in his throat as he watches it pass, but he isn't entirely sure why. Maybe its because its his fault the car isn't carrying any people. Maybe its because the shape of the car and the way it slides along reminds him of another place, another time, where he lied to his new friend. Maybe its because the dome makes him feel vaguely homesick. More than usual, that is.
Delta-5/C is totally empty. Nobody is here, nobody ever will be. The cars will just trundle on around forever. The solar panels with just keep churning out electricity. All those little bits an pieces inside the flats will lie there, unused, not even ignored, as there is nobody there to ignore them.
Maybe that's how he is now, he muses to himself. Pessimistic.
No. No, that doesn't sound like him. Not in the slightest. He still wasn't entirely sure who he was yet, but he did know he wasn't a pessimist. Lucky old him.
He gave a short "hm" of amusement at the irony. Yeah. Lucky Old Doctor.
He needs to leave. This place doesn't agree with him at all.
He turns and steps back inside the small wooden box. The wail of old engines fills the air, and it tears the nothingness around it to pieces, before fading out of existence, like it had never been there. Leaving Delta-5/C to its silence once more. Letting it continue to run on automatic forever in peace.