Nothing to do with me, just helping to promote a very talented team of collaberators who are working on a fully illustrated series of adventures for Clara Oswald and Ashildr/Me, taking place after the events of Hell Bent. The series commences May 16th 2020.
password to view trailer: tardis
The divisive Doctor Who Series Nine finale “Hell Bent” overhauled and repurposed as a tidy 24-minute instalment that does away with The Doctor breaking his no-kill code, man-baiting gender jokes and female general, the diner TARDIS etc, the focus is entirely on The Doctor’s quest for the truth regarding The Hybrid, and making the decision to determine Clara’s fate for her
When I first tackled this edit in December of 2015, I had the interesting notion of cutting out Clara’s ‘final’ farewell to The Doctor, but in doing so, it left the story feeling slightly under-length. Not that there’s a problem with “shortening” Doctor Who episodes if you feel it makes for tighter pacing (or allow it to sync up with well with the length of traditional “classic” Who stories) , but I thought, for this second go-around, I would try to bump up the length so it was closer to that of a modern series episode.
How to achieve this without compromising my earlier ideas? Look to none other than the very next episode, “Heaven Sent”
Inspired by a discussion I had with Whoflix (who had recently completed his own edit of Face the Raven, an edit which sadly no longer exists on his archives), I felt compelled to try and make the episode feel more like a two-parter, leading directly into Hell Bent without dragging out The Doctor’s struggle inside the confession dial too much…and the easiest solution was to simply use the last act of the episode focusing on The Doctor experiencing the loop time and again, which neatly condenses the events of Heaven Sent into a very manageable ten minutes and gets us to Gallifrey in no time at all
Also changed is the pre-credits, gone is Rigsy’s phone call to the TARDIS, and The Doctor telling Rigsy there’s no easy way to tell someone they’re going to die being where we hit the titles. Not much else of FTR has been changed other than that.
WRITTEN BY ZARIUS
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is trademarked by BBC. This is for non-profit purposes.
Note: This contains spoilers for “Hell Bent”
Somewhere, at the end of all things, it waits to speak
It cannot afford to whisper.
It’s not hard-wired to.
It must have a commanding presence. It must own the room. And all around it should obey.
In its private moments, it had often dreamed of being a Supreme in the legion, where all could obey it. It thought such a role to be a divine concept.
A concept of beauty.
Like all dreams, they fade and reality sets in. The reality of war, and the reality of consequence.
It lay there now, in the cloister corners of the Matrix, in the catacombs of its most hated adversaries, those who had denied its race the stranglehold on creation they felt they had earned through their persistence and patience. A race that had defied its own end twice, and once in a far more novel fashion than the last.
That one time, the end did come. The second instance was a cheat. A parlour trick, designed to fool naive eyes.
And those eyes were now staring back at it, give or take the seconds where their faces could show, and when their screams could be visible.
They never spoke to it, they needn’t have to, their thoughts were everywhere. Their thoughts and sounds and stories informed its hours. Informed it’s purpose. For purpose was what it needed to justify the endurance of the final days granted to all corners of creation.
Everything has purpose, even at the end.
It absorbed the information, the prophecies, the tales of the creature that was the making of the oncoming storm.
The talk of the hybrid.
Two travellers, two companions, who would break the barriers of all reality to undo the deaths of one another. Two stubborn spirits who refused to let the traditional course of events be the most natural and befitting.
Those who deemed endings inappropriate.
It knew what the prophecies meant.
It knew the prophecies were wrong.
It knew what the hybrid was. It had sussed it out.
All it needed was to give out a warning. That is, if the pain could permit it to speak, and if it could lay a gaze upon one face. Or two.
And then it’s chance arose.
There they were.
A man who, in all his lives, had never associated knowledge with wisdom, and his companion, a woman now thrice dead.
One with a pulse, another with none.
One who’s heart beat no more, and one who’s twin hearts were broken.
They stood now, in the catacombs of the Matrix, amongst the ghostly Cloister wraiths and other prisoners of the chamber, seeking a way to defy the impossible.
It knew it’s chance had come.
As the woman thrice dead approached it, it knew it’s voice needed to be heard. The pain was excruciating, the strain was unbearable, but the warning had to be given.
But would she hear it?
“Exterminate Me” it said, the veins around it tightening their grip, “Exterminate Me”
The woman thrice dead reeled back, the man with the broken hearts pushed her aside. In an instant of time, both disappeared from sight.
The Dalek rested, it complimented what had just happened.
Had the moment passed without incident? Had it been over just like that?
Did she understand the warning?
That there was another factor yet to step forward on their journey. Somewhere beyond the cloisters and the matrix and the world of the Time Lords. A third participant. An immortal who had long cut herself off from care and concern.
Someone whose influence could prove a damning one on that long way ’round.
The Daleks have a concept of beauty, and sometimes, a concept of mercy.
In this instance, at the end of all things, this Dalek chose to embrace that concept of mercy, to spare all of creation the unrest the Hybrid would cause.
The woman thrice dead, and the woman who lived.
Left unchecked, they could unsettle reality, and the ripples would be felt all the way to the end.
And all this Dalek wanted to do was rest alongside everything else.
As its consciousness drifted into a deep slumber, it prayed its mission, its mercy, would be understood.
And if the woman thrice dead was still able to run, so too, should she be able to remember.
The Dalek rested, remembering, or perhaps, hoping, that everything could work itself out, that everything had a purpose that could be eventually understood.
This the end of Face the Raven without the farewell speech and a slight modification to the beginning of the bit where Clara faces the raven to include the small reprisal of “Clara’s theme”, I’ve also removed the bit where The Doctor tells Ashildr to keep out of his way
A full version of the episode with these changes will also be coming out in the next few days. I will also be redoing this edit when the DVD version comes out in January