The Doctor was a rather ambiguous person, both in terms of character and in terms of numerical value, too. You knew this as well as anyone else, because you were a clone of him, created for the sole purpose of doing his bidding and replacing him in areas where he himself did not have time to keep up.

Today you once again walked into his office, holding the report in your hands. On the way, a couple of guards almost fell at your feet, but your only reaction was a grin. What idiots they all are that they can't even tell you apart from the Original Dottore, despite your differences. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by a disgruntled look from Prime, standing over the operating table, working on a new clone with a disgruntled look. He muttered something under his breath as his gaze fell on you and your grin with a sharp grin.

"Go and help me with this pile of organic garbage. Otherwise, you will soon find yourself in his place."

You reluctantly threw the report on his desk, walking over to the table and rolling up the sleeves of your dressing gown. The future "Nu" really didn't look good.