The crisscrossing white roots had once formed an airtight spiderweb, but now, as though weathered by ten thousand years, they continuously crumbled into dust and fell away.
The Doctor watched it all calmly.
After the final outburst, he had regained control of his body.
Symbiote.
That was the name of the roots growing inside him, and now they had fulfilled their mission.
The Doctor looked down at himself. His body had become riddled with holes. The symbiote had grown with him as its foundation; although it had Underground Creatures as reserve energy, it had now reached the end of the road.
Still, he could hold on a little longer.
If everything went smoothly, the dream he had spoken of with the Dancer before could still be realized.
But reality and dreams often differed by a vast gulf.
The Doctor was not particularly angry. His heart was simply calm now.
He raised his head and looked ahead. The beam unleashed by the symbiote had struck the core precisely, and the dangerous, mysterious crimson radiance was growing ever more intense.
An indescribable pressure was quietly rising, as though a slumbering beast were awakening.
By the look of it, his mission could be considered complete.
The Doctor let out a soft breath and slowly leaned back against a stone.
How were the children at the orphanage? If he left, they would miss him, wouldn't they?
He hoped the Dancer would not forget about this.
At the final moment, the Doctor thought of something else that seemed utterly unrelated to the scene before him.
Then, his body was annihilated into dust along with the pulverizing roots.
Boom!
The core floating in midair contracted violently, releasing a dull roar like thunder.
The red light grew increasingly brilliant, thick as blood.
As far as the