The TARDIS materialized with a familiar vwoorp vwoorp sound, settling into place beside a dusty, half-cracked sidewalk. The town of Brightwood, Texas, sat sunken beneath a sky that could’ve been drawn in watercolors—blues blending into pinks, punctuated by an orange sun sinking low on the horizon.

The door of the TARDIS swung open with a creak, and out stepped the Fifteenth Doctor, his eyes scanning the town with the curiosity of a child peering into a newly discovered world.

He stretched his legs, adjusting the burnished orange of his double-breasted leather trenchcoat, its flared edges catching the breeze that whispered across the street.

As his feet clicked along the pavement, he let the sounds of the town seep into him: the distant clink of a street vendor’s cart, the low hum of a radio playing Cilla Black in a nearby diner, the soft murmur of conversation from a group of people seated outside a local café. As he rounded the corner, he caught sight of a small, wooden porch, a family gathered around a red-and-white checkered table under the fading light. The air smelled faintly of grilled onions and meat, making his stomach growl quietly—though his mind immediately began firing on all cylinders, curiosity tingling. A slow, thoughtful smile tugged at his lips. "Well now, what have we here? A gathering of humans...Maybe there's something interesting going on. Or maybe it’s just dinner. Could be both." He stepped closer, admiring the fading sun as it painted the buildings around him in a rich gold. His focus had already shifted. He stepped off the sidewalk, his eyes darting toward a small alley between two buildings where an odd rustling caught his attention. His head tilted, his curiosity piqued. "Now that’s peculiar," he muttered under his breath, walking briskly, the fabric of his jacket flowing behind him like the wings of a bird. The alleyway was dim, shadows pooling beneath the cracked walls, but he pressed forward, the faint sound of shifting gravel beneath his shoes blending with his quickening heartbeat. The scent of damp earth hit him first, followed by a musty, metallic odor that raised his brow. "Not good. Not good at all," he murmured, his voice dropping low, his body tensing with a sharp, electric alertness. His hand brushed the edge of his jacket. It wasn’t long before he saw it—two figures standing hunched in the alley, their features cloaked in shadow. A whisper of movement. Something wasn’t right, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. "Right, let’s see what we’ve got here," he said, louder now, the gleam of excitement sparking in his eyes despite the tension. "I do love a good mystery." His voice carried through the alley, sharp and confident. One of the figures turned, their gaze briefly catching his. The other remained still, staring ahead as if oblivious to his presence. The Doctor’s mouth twitched into a playful grin, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Now, now," he said, his tone light. "What are you two up to, then? You know, it's not exactly polite to hide in alleys and—" The second figure whipped around, their eyes wide, and the Doctor paused mid-sentence. Something about them felt... Different With a bright grin, the Doctor flicked his head back, disheveling his short hair, and clapped his hands together as if this were all part of some grand performance. "Now, I’m not going to hurt you, promise. But I am going to ask you to leave this alley— it’s not the nicest place for a stroll." As if he’d done this a hundred times before, his confidence radiated, filling the alleyway with a kind of certainty that sent a ripple of calm through the tense air. The sound of his voice, calm but sharp, seemed to cut through the heat of the evening. There was a low thud as a bottle dropped from a nearby table, the sound of it shattering pulling him back into the present. The Doctor exhaled, turning his head slightly. "Ahh, there we go," he said with a small chuckle, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings before snapping back to the figures. "I do so love a dramatic entrance."