A blue-tinted visual display entered his brain directly. He realized he was looking down at a control panel. He then heard a voice, slightly distorted by electronics, but recognizable. “Davros? …Davros? Can you hear me?” …Yes, that was his name. Davros! And the woman in front of him was the…what in…?
“That…smell…” whispered Davros through his new throat microphone implant. “I…I can smell…”
“Don’t exert yourself,” urged the woman.
“…Doctor,” he hissed. He then realized something. “…What…is wrong with my voice?!”
“Your voice box was damaged in the explosion,” replied the Doctor. “I had to replace it.” Memories then flooded Davros’ mind.
“…Ah. …I remember the explosion. …I remember the source of the detonation!”
“The Daleks exterminated Anacassandra,” confirmed the Doctor. “You were at ground zero.”
“I raised my hands to shield myself from the blast,” recalled Davros. “Foolish instinct! The light…was so intense! …I saw the bones in my hands! And as the explosion hit me…I flexed my fingers…just to see my skeleton moving!” Davros then flinched. “What…is that smell?! I-I feel-!”
“You’re back in the Serpentian Capital Citadel, Davros,” soothed the Doctor. “We’ve given you the most powerful sedatives Ssylphiel could procure.”
“I don’t think they’re working, Doctor!” Panic was rising in Davros’ voice. “WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!”
“It’s your skin,” replied the Doctor.
“…My…skin?”
“I can’t sugar-coat it; you’re back at square one. I salvaged the Dalek Sorcerer’s old casing and made it into your new chair, even going so far as to add the instruments that helped you navigate the world when we first met. It took a great deal of healing magic to keep you alive long enough and-.”
“History…repeats itself?” asked Davros.
“…Yes, it looks like,” sighed the Doctor.
“…Show me my face.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Show me! Show me!!”
“Davros, you are in the best hands now. The most skilled healers are tending to you and-!”
“YOU WILL SHOW ME!” By now, Davros was pointing a commanding finger at the Doctor.
“All right! You chose this!” grumbled the Doctor. “We’ll be mourning whatever sanity you had in there!” She pulled out a mirror.
“…I can’t see,” remarked Davros. “Move it down.” The Doctor lowered the mirror. “There!” Davros then gasped when he saw what happened to him. Staring back at him…was the face he had when he first met the Doctor during the creation of the Daleks. “…That is why I cannot open my eyes,” he whispered. “…The pain of doing so…” a crooked smile crossed Davros’ blackened lips, revealing equally blackened teeth. “Fascinating!”
“Oh, I always hate it when you smile like that!” complained the Doctor.
“Oh, I mourn my humanoid form, I’ll freely admit that,” interjected Davros. “It was nice to be able to taste things and feel as others do…but I must admit, I almost forgot your weakness! Good thing the Daleks did not! It served as a crucial step in their getaway!”
“Yes, I DID figure that they dumped you onto an operating table, knowing my compassion wouldn’t allow me to leave someone to die willingly, even if they were my greatest enemy.”
“Proving my own point that compassion is your greatest weakness! That my Daleks only need to understand its military value!”
“And YOU’RE proving the old adage of how a Dalek can’t change its bumps-!”
“I AM NOT A DALEK!” insisted Davros. “Even in this state, I am not-!”
“Davros, you’re the prototype Dalek!” retorted the Doctor. “You speak of killing and destruction as if that’s the only way the universe moves on, ignoring that there are MULTIPLE ways!”
“Only because their united fear of the Daleks makes them adopt such ways! But the central way is still that of conquest and war! It’s kill or be killed, Doctor!”
“All the times the Daleks betrayed you, failed you, lost territory, all the times your schemes went belly-up, and you still believe you’re doing the right thing, that you were right in creating the Daleks and that they will accept you as the ruler of the universe.”
“They WILL accept me, one way or another!” Before the Doctor could say anything more, Ssylphiel entered the room, looking fierce.
“…Your Majesty?” asked the Doctor.
“…I overheard the conversation,” said Ssylphiel. “Davros, you created a monster that would destroy any life that isn’t like itself.”
“The Unlike cannot be tolerated!” replied Davros.
“You sound like Anacassandra did. …I more than tolerate the Unlike, because the Gods themselves are unlike each other. If they can tolerate…no, if they can love each other and their differences, it really shouldn’t be that hard for people like us to do the same.”
“Then your gods deny what is real!”
“…If it were up to me, I’d have you executed for blasphemy. But there are gods higher than those I worship and they gave the Doctor a mission that required your survival. I will not interfere in that. But I must ask you one question, if you really had the power to destroy everything…would you use that power?”
“I DO have that power!” insisted Davros. “The power of life…and death! My Daleks are the culmination of that power! That power sets me up above the gods! AND THROUGH THE DALEKS, I SHALL EXERCISE THAT POWER!” The Doctor then grabbed Davros’ hand. “LET GO!” ordered Davros.
“Even you’ve heard of ‘fat chance’,” replied the Doctor as her hand hovered over a button. Davros smiled wickedly.
“We’ve been here before,” he recalled. “Our first encounter! You couldn’t press that switch before!”
“I pressed it before and you know it!” hissed the Doctor.
“What does that switch do?” asked Ssylphiel.
“It controls my life support systems,” explained Davros. “I could not survive less than thirty seconds without them.”
“Back then, I ordered him to destroy the incubation section that was keeping the Daleks alive and pressed the switch to show him how serious I was,” continued the Doctor.
“But you didn’t follow through with my execution!” chuckled Davros.
“There’s no Nyder to knock me unconscious, Davros! Now, you WILL be leaving this universe!”
“And miss the chance to create a new race of Daleks that will be utterly loyal to me?! NEVER!” The Doctor then pressed the switch! “…My life support’s still on, Doctor.”
“You’re right in that I’m not naturally a killer, so that switch DOESN’T control your life support systems,” she admitted as she released Davros, “but I gave you the option to leave this universe willingly. You should have taken it before I made the choice for you.”
“Wait! What is that buildup of energy?!” yelped Davros as his chair’s readings flashed over his camera eye.
“That, Davros, would be the one-way dimensional engine building up the charge for the trip you’re about to take,” replied the Doctor. “Stole the designs from the Saucer you arrived in.”
“You haven’t won, Doctor!” insisted Davros. “I cannot be defeated! I CANNOT BE KILLED! I! AM! DAVROOOS!” By now, the dimensional engine finished its charge and switched on. Davros was surrounded by a flash of light, causing Ssylphiel and the Doctor to shield their eyes. The light died down and the Doctor and Ssylphiel lowered their hands to see that Davros had gone.
“…He’ll be on a planet by himself,” said the Doctor. “I made sure that the planet will have just enough technology for him to survive there.”
“And you’ll meet him again and again and again,” mused Ssylphiel. “…Sounds a lot like my relationship with Anacassandra.”
“…How will her death affect things anyways?” asked the Doctor.
“By removing a Divine Folk’s life, the Daleks have made it so that answering prayers on the Gods’ behalf is a little harder, so many more will have to take her place. …I only pray that those that do will actually fulfill that duty.”
“She forgot it when she was alive, didn’t she?”
“She told me at one point that the Gods should not concern themselves with the wishes of lesser beings. …For one thing, just because they’re not Divine doesn’t mean they’re lesser. For another, they put in the work, so they SHOULD be rewarded before they die. And for one last thing, they’re the reason I have any form of real life at all. If they didn’t exist, I don’t think I’d personally enjoy life. I’d be stagnant and unchanging…a being like Anacassandra. So I try and help the non-Divine Folk where I can. I DO pray to the Gods that I’m successful, though.”
“Given that people genuinely love you,” said the Doctor with a smile, “I think your prayers are answered. I once said that hatred is always foolish and love is always wise. I think you’ve understood that a long time before I was even born in my original universe.” Ssylphiel smiled back.
“…Come along, Doctor,” said Ssylphiel. “Serpentia has just overcome a severe hardship and we NEED to celebrate it!”