Bat family's cub is lost

With a knife in one hand and the wind whistling in his ears, the craftsman displayed the physical skills he had learned to the fullest.Relying on his ability, he flickers in the crowd, and can always appear at a certain point through dense attacks.

The circuit damaged by the attack kept emitting electric sparks, causing a small-scale explosion from time to time, billowing black smoke.

Mrs. Vastra held the gun in the back, and the doctor was nimbly caught in it and approached the deep console with the convenience of the electromagnetic bomb.

Due to the crude materials, the degree of transformation of people is not deep, and the number of transformations is far less exaggerated than that a cyberman can build an army by himself.However, it is still a great test for the craftsman's physical and mental strength to maintain a non-lethal attack to deal with so many people.

The doctor violently pried open the circuit board under the console, revealing a cylindrical petri dish connected by complex circuits, "This is it, Daleks!" He pointed his gun at the petri dish and shouted, "Your genetic Matter, the basis of your reproduction and reproduction. Guess what will happen if I shoot this thing, aha?"

Not just the genetic material, but also the template files that allow the cybermen to replicate individuals.This is really a big threat.

There are many people with modified heads with Daleks on their heads rushing up one after another, and there are guys who have been modified a little bit more, with weapons and toilet plugs installed.But it's nothing, the craftsman will guarantee that these guys can't get close.

Even though some of the attacks pierced the cloak and grazed his limbs leaving bloody wounds, the artisan's swinging speed did not stop at all.He even started trying to use his abilities to turn their attacks back on themselves.

The success rate is not high at first, but it's a good start.

The craftsman's knife stopped just a line away from a cyborg's neck, and all the cyborgs stopped moving.He retracted the knife and returned to the doctor, without letting down his vigilance at all.

"Are you okay? I smell blood," Mrs. Vastra, who also leaned over, whispered to him, "If I really can't hold on, I can borrow you to lean on."

"It's nothing," the craftsman replied in the same low voice, moving his lips, "It's just a small injury, just bandage it."

"Doctor, please put away your weapons." Most of the cybermen who came out were broken, and the Daleks mixed in were almost like those dug out of an abandoned factory, full of rust.

"Help, please help us, for the continuation."

"Isn't this a good reason, transforming so many human beings just to continue?" The doctor moved his finger with the gun, "Leave here, just find a planet without people to continue with you."

The doctor suddenly raised his head to look at the huge power furnace, and then at the cybermen and Daleks, "Wait, you don't have energy and a shell that can withstand the pressure of the universe, so you can't leave the earth?" He showed a puzzled expression, "But ,Why?"

The leading cyborg replied: "Great catastrophe, burning, the universe is burning." He suddenly rang a carrara, and electric sparks appeared on the exposed circuits. "Help, help." Contrary to his words, the muzzle of his raised gun was pointed at the doctor's head little by little.

"Ask someone for help." The craftsman split him in half before he could shoot, and rushed into them.The situation was almost one-sided. Before the attacks of the cybermen and Daleks fell on the artisan, they would be diverted elsewhere by the black hole that popped up. However, the artisan was nimble and could take away an enemy almost every time he dashed forward.

"Mercy!" The red-painted Daleks moved back towards the edge, shaking their probes.

The craftsman suddenly appeared above it, and the knife in his hand was mercilessly inserted into the gap of its armor, and he forcibly penetrated it, "There is no mercy." There were stabbing and burning sounds from inside the armor and something was being burned. Burnt smell.

"It's fine now," the craftsman stood up, picked up a cyberman's head and threw it to the doctor, "You can connect it, check what is recorded in his chip, and see if you can find the reason why they came here. "

The doctor caught it in a hurry, pacing back and forth, "Why do you do this?" He asked a little angrily, "If what they say is true, then you are massacring a race."

"So?" The craftsman stood there, the blood from the wound soaked the robe, and dripped down to the ground along the foot of the robe, "You can guarantee that they will not do anything to humans, or you can say for sure that they never Have you ever done something like this before?"

This is of course impossible, whether it is the Daleks or the Cybermen, the Doctor has fought against them countless times on Earth, making them stop killing people is like making him stop riding the TARDIS, it is impossible.

"I must declare," the craftsman backhanded the knife into the chest of a cyberman who hadn't completely disconnected, "my three views are formed entirely based on the human world, so I don't care whether they will be the last of their respective groups or not." One." He paused under the doctor's unbelievable eyes, and said calmly: "I only care about whether they are a threat to human beings, nothing else is important."

"Before you refute me, doctor, you have to think clearly, we always have to leave." The craftsman turned his head and looked at the people who surrounded them like puppets whose strings had been broken, "If we let them survive , to accumulate strength. After we leave, who will be able to protect this powerful and fragile planet."

"The untimely soft-heartedness may one day backfire on the people you care about," he finally said.

The doctor suddenly realized the similarities and differences in their ideas. It's not that he can't do the same thing, it's just that he hasn't been offended yet, so he is willing to give those races opportunities again and again, that's all.But the craftsman is different, he is very contradictory and too young, like a cold flame.It is indeed burning, but you can't feel his temperature, just as silent and long as his anger.

Perhaps from a certain moment, he was placed in a rage, constantly hating himself.

The doctor and the artisan started a cold war, the most obvious cold war.One squatted in the corner and bandaged his own wound silently. The bloody wound was wrapped in a mess with bandages.The other uses the existing resources in the base to reverse operation, restore the transformed people and clear their memories, and send them back to the ground.

When the matter was over, and even after the artisans quelled the turmoil in the city by pretending to be the mayor, the Cold War still hadn't come to an end. It seemed that it would continue for a long time, because no one was willing to take a step back.

"It's like two children," Mrs. Vastra complained helplessly in private.

In the Cold War, they worked together to solve the angels trapped in the tavern.

The doctor and Mrs. Vastra moved the weeping angels together, and the craftsman used his ability to make the angels with teeth and claws meet face to face, and all the angel statues turned into real stones.

The craftsman put them all in a box, made a small room in his dream and threw it in, in case of any accident.

They also come across strange water hiding in the lake.People in the villages that lived by the water turned into monsters after drinking this water-with all white eyes with only pupils, cracked skin and black mouths.

And in order to make them disappear, to make this kind of infectious and parasitic water disappear, the artisan made a decision. He decided to freeze the entire lake, together with those infected people.

"This is not your world, and you don't know the time point here, and how it will develop." The craftsman returned to the tent with sloppy steps and looked at the doctor who was sitting silently on the bed, "Maybe you You can try to be reckless and save all the people you want to save, like you have the power to change everything."

"Then like you, become crazy?" The doctor replied, "Do everything you can to stop the danger in the bud, and even push yourself to the edge of being reborn again. This is all you do? What are you doing for? Do these things?"

Freeze the lake, then settle down and distinguish every water molecule in it, trying to weed out the intrusive ones.

Under the black robe that tightly wrapped the craftsman, his clothes had already been soaked with sweat, and his face behind the mask was pale and bloodless. "Because of fear," he still stood up straight, "I want to find a solution for every kind of trouble I encounter, so that when they threaten some people, I won't be helpless."

"Do you know that if you make a slight mistake, just one drop will turn you into a monster like the people in that village?"

"Well, I asked too much. Of course, the great craftsman will make everything safe." The doctor lifted the quilt angrily and got into the bed to cover his head. The bed was not big, so he exposed his feet when he covered his head.

"No, of course not, I just can't back down."

"So did you succeed?"

"No, so I threw it in the jar. As it turns out, there's a lot more I can't do."

After a while, "Then are you afraid?"

The buzzing of insects could be heard outside the tent, and it was not until the doctor snored that the craftsman's answer leaked from his tightly pursed lips, "Maybe."

No one knows whether the doctor has heard this answer, but it can be seen with the naked eye that when the sun rises the next day, their relationship seems to be better again, and they want to ask friends or relatives more than they did at the beginning?

"Why do you always look at the craftsman with the eyes of a child?" Mrs. Vastra cast a probing look at the doctor, and she clicked her tongue and said: "Your little-known hobby? But it's nothing, you are so old , there are some weird little problems that are reasonable."

"What are you talking about?" The doctor waved his hands and explained again and again, "I just feel hey, how long have I lived, almost a thousand years old, why should I fuss so much with a kid who can't understand the reason." He was uncomfortable Turn your head away, "Don't look at me with that look, I don't have the hobby you think."

"What are you doing?" The craftsman who packed his bags and opened the door to stuff everything in, and then opened another passage looked puzzled at the two people who hated each other.

"Here we come," the doctor rolled his eyes and made a grimace, and followed him first.

Mrs. Vastra shook her head lightly, "Childish ghost."

Facts will tell them that now is not really busy at all, and busy days will always be behind.

Plastic people, Santa people, living snow and Zigong people, as well as some scattered cybermen and Daleks scattered in other places.Messy guys are like bad things after big surprises, one after another, and the craftsman trio has to live a life of traveling around [-]/[-].

Honestly, thanks to the skill of the craftsman.If they only rely on the current backward transportation, even if they spend all their time on the road, they will not be able to save many people.

In order to better improve efficiency, the doctor used the materials obtained from the eliminated cybermen and Daleks to assemble a machine that can listen to broadcasts from all over the world, in order to find abnormalities faster.

The craftsman's life is also being changed. He can no longer live alone in a room with a view of Wayne Manor for a long time like when he didn't meet the doctor before.In addition to the necessary survival needs every day, he is meditating and guarding against all threatening existences that enter Gotham.

Then wait until February NO.18, when it is almost midnight, after everyone falls asleep, the gift that has been prepared for the whole year will be delivered to Bruce's bedside.Just say a few words that you want to say most on the list throughout the year, although "sorry" and "sorry" are always at the top of the list.

Then, looking at the moonlight, while no one was watching, he secretly missed his family, Bruce's father, brother Dick and brother Jason.Just thinking quietly for a few seconds, when the twelve o'clock strikes and the magic disappears, he will be that craftsman again.

But it was different now, endless troubles forced him to spend his time on one strange incident after another.Whether it is a rumor or a fact, whether it is man-made or made by aliens, they have to go to the scene to confirm it before deciding.

So each gift delivery becomes as follows:

On the other side, the biubiu who were coming and going attacked each other, and everyone stayed behind the cover and fought back cautiously.The craftsman shoots with a gun in one hand and opens the passage with the other hand, airdrops gifts directly into the empty room, and then continues to concentrate on dealing with those alien visitors.

Or, everyone is being chased and running around. The craftsman checks the time, slowly pulls to the end, flashes into a corner, and then pulls open the passage to throw gifts in. The movements are agile and skilled. "Can't we do it later?" Panting, the doctor stepped back and gave the craftsman a white look, then pulled him back to fight back, while continuing to play life-and-death pursuit with those monsters.

And so on year after year.

"When do you want to give gifts?" After getting rich, he got some metallic ores and defeated a group of cybermen. The doctor twisted the knob of the instrument several times, and finally confirmed that they had a period of time. Rare free time.

The craftsman was bandaging himself, which was his necessary action after almost every battle, so his bandaging skills were comparable to those of regular doctors in the hospital. "Twenty-one," he said, tightening his bandages and pulling down his sleeves, his hands tucked inside his cloak.His cloak has changed several times, and now this one is dark blue, the same color as the deep sea, "I can give him a bottle of wine as a celebration at that time."

"You are like a mother chicken who can't see her child, worrying about her own child." The doctor quickly changed his words after complaining, "I'm just saying, I know you protect him and treat him well because of guilt, So there's no need to explain."

Because I lost it once, I hope he can grow up happily when I see a similar existence, as if this can make up for the pain in my heart.Perhaps he was the same, to Gallifre, to the artisan.

"Who is left on the list?" The craftsman followed his words and changed the subject.

The doctor fumbled in his jacket pocket and then his trousers pocket, and finally found a tattered note in his shirt breast pocket, "Let me see," he frowned and unfolded the note, looking at it. "There's silence, there's only silence." He tucked the note back in a ball, maybe that's why it was so crumpled.

"Would you like to find some time to go back and have a birthday party for the person you have been giving gifts to? Even if you only have a glimpse from a distance, you should not have visited for a long time."

"No," the craftsman always remained silent whenever this topic was brought up, but today was different, maybe it was because the day of parting was approaching, he was rarely more talkative. "I don't like parting." He folded his arms around his knees and sat in his cloak. "And touching me too much, touching things that shouldn't exist in this world is not good for him."

He still remembers the time of Bruce's birthday party, he hurried back, covered with scars and dust to shield the perception of others, quietly stood in a corner where no one could perceive, watching the young Bruce blow out Candles make a wish.

"May your wishes come true." He thought silently.

The young man who finished eating the cake was driven back to the bedroom by the old housekeeper, and the craftsman was also about to leave, but the old housekeeper who was packing up the dishes suddenly said, "This strange guest, are you still planning to come out?"

He put the dishes in the sink, and as he washed and dried them and put them in the cupboard, he said, "Before I served the Waynes, I was a minor performer in a touring troupe. In order to win the audience's attention and get more applause, people are always more sensitive to gaze."

"I know you don't mean anything malicious, but please stop your behavior like today and in the past." The craftsman wasn't sure if he saw himself or it was just a coincidence, but Alfred did look at the place where he was. place.

"Master Bruce is no longer at the age where he should be obsessed with invisible friends and comic book heroes. It doesn't help him to get stuck in them. He is obsessed with fitness, martial arts learning and imitating comic book fighting techniques, even many times. hurt yourself."

"You have to understand that if Master Bruce is really committed to becoming a superhero like in the book and taking pleasure in fighting crime, he is equivalent to embarking on a road full of thorns until death. And, the road is short."

Alfred sighed, "No matter what it is, my guest, please don't come again."

So since then, the artisan's gifts have always been mixed with the gifts from other families, and never suddenly landed in a corner of Wayne's house.

Thoughts drifted back to the present moment slowly, the doctor's hand had been shaking in front of his eyes for a long time, "What's wrong?"

"I just saw that you suddenly became dazed." The doctor sat beside him and put his shoulders on his shoulders. "Why are you thinking so preoccupied?"

"Think about how to deal with silence." The craftsman lied.

The author has something to say: If there is a father who can bear nothing, be pampered by his parents and grow up to be the little prince of Gotham, Palmer will be very happy.