Jones sighed, "Why—when this blasted loop ships us along—do we always end up in the dark?" For they were, indeed, once again in the dark, surroundings unknown to each of them. Jones felt a small sense of relief that this time, his limbs has free movement. To test this theory, he pushed both arms straight out, only to hit something pliable.

"Umph," Smith exclaimed.

Jones jerked back his hand, "Sorry, chap." He said, straightening his top hat and brushing off his lapels.

To his left, he heard the distinct whirr that meant H'ver was nearby. "Here," he said, fumbling around in a compartment. "This should help." A snap and the smell of sulfur lit through the darkness as H'ver struck a stove match, lighting their surroundings.

They all screamed.

Jones' top hat shown a bright, electric blue, Smith's cuff links let out a piercing white light, and the embroidered hem of Kris' dress lit up all around her.

H'ver snuffed out the match, the room still lit by the remaining three's accessories.

Kris stomped her foot, "Why the hell do I always get stuck in the flimsy garb?" She gestured to her just-below-the-knee flared peach skirt with pearl accents. It stood out nicely against the shiny white of the surrounding walls.

Smith reached out and touched one, jumping back startled as the opaque wall turned to glass at his touch.

"Woah—" H'ver exclaimed, whizzing up behind the others, "It's so..."

"Bright?" Jones supplied. H'ver and the others nodded, still all aglow. The world beyond the windows was lit up like a Christmas tree—a Christmas tree that had had every square inch spray painted florescent colors, with tinsel on top, and lights of all shapes and sizes to match.

The crew stood, staring dumbfounded at the sight before them when suddenly, "Oh!" Kris exclaimed, searching her dress.

"What's she doing there, Jones?" Smith asked out of the corner of his mouth as Kris checked her hose for something.

"I'm not quite sure," Jones replied. "We should probably let her continue, though. Don't you think?"

Smith nodded, "Indeed."

"Aha!" Kris exclaimed, pulling something out of her bosom. The powercube. She looked wide-eyed out the window, "It's just what we need!" she said, gesturing towards the electric city. "There's enough power here to jumpstart the cube! With a little time, we could rebuild the communicator!"

The hope in her eyes seemed to diminish with the final words. One thing they seemed to lack in this damned space loop was time.

The four barely had time to ponder the statement, for a crash echoed from behind the door.

Kris, H'ver, Smith and Jones stepped closer to the window and each other. "What was that?" Jones asked, his head peeking over Kris' shoulder.

Just then, a figure burst through the door—it was the man, the creature, who Kris had strangled atop her coffin what seemed like just a short time ago. He walked with a bit of an odd gait, a mischievous, and albeit creepy, smile upon his face. Behind him, in a snug lab coat as white as the walls around them, walked in a tall man, as lithe as a water reed, thick, black glasses crammed into the bridge of his nose, and teeth as yellow as a flower's pollen. Smith couldn't help but notice the trim of the assistant's smock was a florescent yellow, just like the trim of Kris' dress and his own cuff links.

"Doctor Evilstein—" Kris voice came out deceptively calm. It made Smith shudder.

As the Doctor and his assistant approached, the four of them retreated instinctively. Smith's skin crawled as the Doctor let out an eerie chuckle, "Why yes," he said, brushing invisible dust off his pristine lapels. "That was quite a ride, Kristina," Doctor Evilstein said, locking eyes with Kris, "Aliens? Wretched wastelands? I quite enjoyed that short time you were rendered, " he reached out his hand as if to brush her cheek. Kris slapped it away, "speechless."

"Back off, Doc," she said.

The Doctor let out another laugh, this one with a bit more breath behind it. To his side, the assistant clutched his stomach, his mouth open as if in laughter, but no sound came out.

"Oh pretty flower—" the Doctor said, turning around. "You've taken us on quite the little trip." Spittle flew past his yellowing teeth as he accented the p. "But now it is time." He held out his hand, and made a gesturing motion. "Hand it over."

"In your dreams," Kris said without missing a beat.

Doctor Evilstein sighed, the corners of his mouth tipped down in a frown. "Well, then," he shrugged. "Kill them, Jameis."

With that, the assistant lurched towards out motley crew of travelers.

"H'ver!" Smith yelled, his voice quivering a bit. "The fire!"

H'ver widened his eyes, "Oh!" He said, and pulling out a match, struck it on the way out. Kris, Jones, and Smith, expecting their sudden aversion to fire, looked away. Jameis however, did not.

Screaming bloody screams, the Doctor's assistant jumped back as if he had been shot, crawling over the Doctor once he reached him. "Jameis!" the Doctor yelled, attempting to rid himself of the body crawling over him. "Jameis! Cease and desist!"

H'ver still held the match aloft, and Kris stepped closer, gathering everyone in her arm. "Hold on guys," she said; and without a second's hesitation, attached the powercube to the window. It gave a small beep, and the window shattered: thousands of shiny pieces of glass falling beyond their view to the streets below. "Here goes nothing," Kris said, pulling them towards the open space where the window once hung.

"Wait! What?" Jones yelled as he shuffled towards the edge, digging his toes in unsuccessfully. "What are you doing?!"

Kris shrugged, "Now's as good a time for that damn bright light as any," she said; and with a final tug sent the crowd plummeting over the edge.

Kicking and screaming, they watched the ground close in at alarming speeds.

Jones turned in the air, his coattails flailing behind him, reaching to snag his top hat from its free fall. "KRISSSSS!" he yelled. "THIS WAS THE WORS—"

He was cut off by a blinding white light, and found himself dropped heavily onto a hard floor.

Jones caught his breath, rolling over, one hand clutched to his chest. He stopped as he took in his surroundings, his breath catching before it was caught.

The walls were white. Pristine, even. And what more, they were familiar.

Kris crawled to all floors in front of a opaque window that disappeared as she used it to steady herself, showing a well-lit city beyond the perfect, non-shattered glass. H'ver lit a match.

No one reacted.

"What the hell?" Kris asked.

Smith stood next to her, glancing around, taking everything in with one swift look. "Well, old friends, it looks like we're back."