(Sorry, Mikayla.)
Hello, again, guys! This is my first Doctor Who story. It was pretty Dark for a first attempt. Hm. Maybe I should work on that. Anyway, Please tell me what you likes, what you hated, if you want a sequel, if I should continue it, etc, etc, in a review. Thanks, and enjoy.

Takes place at the end of the episode 'Last of The Time Lords', after The Doctor has been restored but before The Master is shot.
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Doctor Who or the Time Lord Victorious. Sadly.

"Doctor," The Master whimpered. "Please."

The shining silver light disappeared as The Doctors feet touched the floor. The Master huddled in the corner, his arms wrapped over his head. "You wouldn't listen. Because you know what I'm going to say," He moved forward, energy moving around his body, rippling like waves over his skin, until he stood directly over his old friend.

"Goodbye,"

The energy surged forward in a malicious storm, killing The Master instantly. As the life faded from Harold Saxon, The Doctor fell to the floor, his body convulsing with pain.

The last of The Time Lords... The winner of the war... You are all that is left, you are the last... The most powerful... No need to follow and obey the outdated laws of a society that you yourself defeated so easily...

The Doctor screamed and Martha rushed forward.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

There it was, in his head. The drumming. The never-ending drumming had found a new host. The Doctor writhed in pain as Martha tried to hold him still.

The greatest, the most powerful of your species. All these years, letting tragedies play out around you believing them to be set points. Thinking that you can't change anything. Letting innocent people die because of old rules. You must follow them. But why? Why allow the past to control you? You could save so many. You could change the course of History, manipulating everything to become perfect. Perfect like you.

The voices whispered into his head, corrupting and controlling his still-recovering mind. A scream wracked his body, and he was oblivious to Jack rushing the other from the room.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

No, He thought to himself. That's wrong. So wrong,

It's right, Doctor, The voices whispered back. The Time Lords died. You didn't. All these years, you have clung to rules that you despise, for... For what?

The Doctor struggled to answer, speaking out loud. "Because Time can't be manipulated like that!" His words confused Martha, but she seemed to realize something was wrong.

No, you can't remember why. All your justification are feeble, like a house of cards In the wind. You've hardly changed since the War, have you? Whatever happened to adaptation, change, to moving with the time?

The Doctor struggled to lock the voice out, but he couldn't deny how much sense it made.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

"Some things aren't meant to be changed," He ground out weakly, his voice faint and his face creased with pain.

The Time Lords are dead, Doctor. Why should the humans have to suffer for the decaying rules of a dead civilization? Rules you don't even believe in? Rules that don't need to exist - The Universe can change enough for their survival. The story can stay the same without all the death.

"Those are fixed... It... It can't be changed..." He knew he was defeated. He knew that the voice was right - the cold, terrible voice, and the never-ending drums...

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He slowly started to open his mind to the Voice. You can see it, the Voice observed. All that could be, all the people that would survive, all the pain gone. Because you helped. Because you can help. The power of Time and Space lie in your hands and no one can stop you, The Doctor nodded slowly. Rose could be saved. All those he had killed could be saved. Even all the monsters in the universe could be forced into peace.

Thump, thump, thump, thump,

Master sat by the body of the Doctor, staring down at his still struggling body, trying to wake him up. The Voice enjoyed a silent victory as it knew that The Doctor would never wake again. You're not just the Last of the The Lords. You're the First of the Gods. And you have the power to do anything. The Doctor stopped moving, lying perfectly still on his back.

"Doctor? Doctor, can you hear me?" Martha asked, rolling him so she could look at his face. She placed a hand on his neck, looking for two heartbeats, when his eyes flashed open. Instead of their usual brown, they were glowing gold with Time energy. He sat up, grinning brilliantly. Martha let out a sigh of relief.

"Of course. I can't believe I haven't seen the truth all this time."

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

"I'm not a survivor. I'm the winner. No rules anymore. No council. No one to stop me." His grin turned and twisted into a dark smirk.

"Not anymore,"

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Martha stared at him with eyes. "Doctor? Are you alright?" He smirked, his golden eyes focusing on her. "The Doctor isn't here anymore, darling."

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

The nurse stood up fast enough to make her dizzy, stumbling backwards. "Doctor, this isn't funny!"

"No Doctor," The Voice snarled. He stood up and grabbed his old companion by her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "I used to think I couldn't save them, Martha. I thought killing was wrong and was to be avoided at all cost. I thought I had to obey the Old Laws. But I don't,"

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He chuckled, griping her tighter so that she whimpered, her eyes wide. "The Doctor was weak. He wielded but a shadow of the power I command. Because I am," He paused, looking around with new, perfect eyes,

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

"I am Time Lord Victorious. And I can do anything."

Thump, thump, thump, thump.