“In the Dark Times, long before the age of the Time Lords, our ancestors developed a way to imbue words with their combined senses. Soon with enough practice and prolonged exposure to the vortex, their language was able to make their dreams reality.” he explained as they walked away from the entrance. Old High Gallifreyan once possessed the power to raise empires and destroy gods. That saying is not just some legend or a tale. It is the truth. We only forgot how to use it.” This amazed the Games. As a child he had listened tales and stories about their ancestors using only words to devour false gods. And now he learned that not only were they true, but he could also use the same power. “Is that why it doesn’t work on Time Lords?” he asked, momentarily snapping from his amazement. Rassilon shook his head to his sides as a no. “It is because the affinity to the language exists in every pure Gallifreyan. However, not every Time Lord can learn this language. You can, because you belong to one of the Oldblood houses. While it is common that a regular Time Lord can resist Old High Gallifreyan, it is very rare that he can utilize it.” Of course, there weren’t many left from the Oldblood houses like him. Rassilon and the Games were both among the few that had survived over the years. Of course, Rassilon had founded a great amount of the Time Lord civilization personally but that didn’t matter as long as blood rights were concerned. “What about hybrids?” asked the Games in a curious tone, without letting Rassilon take a hint. “Hybrids are not pure.” replied the man with a disgusted expression. Not only he thought that the Time Lords were superior to every other race, he found any offspring with another race simply unfathomable.

“So how does it work?” “It is easy. You combine your temporal, spatial and psychic senses and focus them all in one point. Afterwards you speak in Old High Gallifreyan. Let me demonstrate.” Rassilon snapped his fingers and made a metal plate appear several meters away from them. “ROAN!” he yelled and at the same time, the metal plate folded in two. “That wasn’t so… strong.” remarked the Games, feeling kind of disappointed. He had expected a bigger effect after all. “The form and strength of your Old High Gallifreyan depends on the balance of your senses. If you want to make your words stronger you have to increase the pressure on all of your senses. In a similar way one of them decreasing is enough to weaken it. My psychic capabilities have decreased over the years, that is why it was weak.” Hearing the man’s explanation, the Games decided to have a go himself. “ROAN!” he yelled and bent the metal plate into a spherical shape. He had failed to fold it precisely like Rassilon had, but he had displayed a greater power. “What does it mean?” He didn’t like using words he didn’t know, which disturbed him quite quickly. But the answer he was about to receive would make him question it. “Roan means bend.” The Games raised an eyebrow. Sure, it was a cool power they were displaying. But how could he stop Caitlin with the power to bend materials? “And how is that going to help?” Rassilon laughed at the Games’ insolence. He didn’t know yet but what he was teaching him was an actual language. And the words could hold more than just one meaning. “As you can see, we both bent the metal plate. However, in your case, what you are going to bend is the willpower of your friend. You will force your friend to stand down. It is obviously more complicated than what you just did.” He walked over to the metal plate and examined it. “You have to work on your balance.” he said once his inspection was over.

*later*

The Games exited the room and after him, Rassilon. Both of them had considerably longer hair now. But that was natural: while only several minutes had passed outside, the duo had been training for several months now. Swiping his ginger hair back once they were back in the console room, the Time Lord helped Rassilon fix the loop they had created before. As the Battle TARDIS dematerialized, the Games let out a sigh and glared at Rassilon, who was staring at a monitor somewhat blankly. He wanted to ask if everything was alright, though simultaneously he came into realization that from this point on they were back to being enemies. Deciding not to bother him or himself any further, he walked towards the door. “One advice before you leave. Use your head more often.” said Rassilon, urging the Games to stop. “What?” Rassilon rotated the monitor and showed it to the Time Lord. It was displaying a specific page that contained the security details. From what it seemed, the number of attempts to break the loop they had placed as zero. Nobody had attempted to bypass their precaution. “Your friend blocked the Time Vortex. It is an immense power. So much so that we had to create a loop to be safe. But apparently she did not even bother to stop you. Why?” Rassilon raised a good question. Although he didn’t receive an answer, he had made his point pretty clear. Obviously it wasn’t that Caitlin hadn’t bothered coming after the Games. It was that she couldn’t. The reason for that wasn’t that important; what mattered was the fact that her god-like powers had limits. Returning to his TARDIS briefly, the Games retrieved the items he needed before coming back. “As promised, your mapping circuits.” said the Time Lord, as he handed the circuits to Rassilon. Seeing Rassilon nod his head in approval, the Games extended his hand to the man for a handshake, but Rassilon refused. “Become less compassionate. I want to be your enemy.” As he spoke, the evil in his eyes returned once again. So the Time Lord took his leave and returned to his TARDIS. He had given Rassilon his ticket out of this wretched planet and found a way to get closer to Caitlin. Now he could finally execute his plan.