infinitedc

  Part Two The Star Destroyer loomed like a god in the sky. Tabitha Thorne stood frozen in the middle of her quiet suburban street, frying pan trembling in her hand, wine still fogging the edges of her mind as reality shattered around her. “That…” she whispered, her voice barely holding together, “…that ain’t NASA.” Beside her, the man she had accused—the man she had cornered—was no longer looking at her. He was gazing up at the sky with something far more complex than fear. Recognition. “…Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered. “What do you mean, ‘not good’?!” Tabitha snapped, panic rising in her chest. “That thing is the size of—of—of Utah!” “Bigger,” he corrected under his breath. The roar intensified. A low, vibrating hum rolled through the neighborhood, rattling windows, setting off car alarms, and sending dogs into frantic barking fits. A beam of pale blue light descended. Tabitha didn’t even have time to scream. Now… Skeeta dragged a hand down his face, feeling very cramped in th...

  Part One After living for over nine hundred years and enduring imprisonment by the Daleks during the Last Great Time War, Aznavorian knew he needed to be more cautious in his first regenerated form — a tall African American man he boldly named Skeeta Jenkins. Yet, it took just one meddling, dissatisfied middle-aged housewife to throw him into a holding cell…inside the Detention Area of the Death Star. Now, compounding his already humiliating predicament, Skeeta found himself acting as an unwitting footstool for his insufferable cellmate — Miss Tabitha Thorne. She was the very same meddlesome, discontented middle-aged housewife who had ensnared him in this tangled web of woes. With an air of restlessness, she squirmed incessantly, her backside shifting and pressing down on his shoulder, making it an increasingly precarious challenge for him to maintain any semblance of balance beneath her. “Take it easy now,” she instructed him, her tone imbued with a blend of caution and encou...

Part Two Chronophage. The word echoed …ancient…hungry. It didn’t fully appear. It suggested itself. A distortion shaped like something watching. Edges that never stayed still. A silhouette made of missing moments . It unfolded into the room—not stepping, not entering. Just… being there . A towering silhouette of shredded darkness and flowing time-fragments, its body unraveling into strands that didn’t obey physics. Its ‘face’: a spiraling vortex…a collapsing storm of light and void. “Oh, man,” Rania gasped. “Just when I think I’ve seen it all in the Infinite DC!” Thomas staggered. “…I—can’t—focus on it—” “Yeah,” Chu Hyun said. “That’s because it’s not entirely here.” Rania steadied Thomas instantly, one hand on his shoulder. “Don’t try to see it.” Chu Hyun stepped closer to him—instinctively protective, though she masked it with irritation. “Chronophages exist between seconds. They don’t move through time—they feed on it.” Thomas swallowed. “Feed on what exactly?” She looked at him. ...