𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧
𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟏, 𝟏𝟖𝟐𝟏

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

People tend to forget that true beauty lies not in perfection but rather in imperfection.

In color, in sound, in liveliness.

In diversity, in inclusivity, in difference, in change, in naturalness, in love, in hate, in happiness, in anger, in curiosity, in wonder, in creation, in destruction, in life.

It is very easy to become blinded to such things—to forget that the real beauty is the beauty in what is.

I am certainly at fault for it at times, I think even the Doctor may be at fault for forgetting it on occasion as well.

Everyone is.

"Do not make even a move against me or I will reveal you, player of the Space Jam..." He hissed, but despite the words, his tone remained friendly, his demeanor charming, and his dancing steps did not falter.

I smiled tightly in response, doing my best not to let my exterior crack. My gaze remained locked with his.

Of all the times for a lesser player to get the jump on me. Only an idiot would be so brash as to approach me in this manner, perhaps that's why I did not see it coming.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked quietly, my British accent slipping back to American. "How the hell did you even get into this universe?"

This universe was locked to most people—nearly impossible to enter or leave. I was one of the few exceptions, the half-breed girl who came from a destroyed universe with all the power of creation and destruction in the tips of my fingers. However, all that power was currently hidden and under tight lock and key. For good reason.

Nevertheless, I was the last of my entire universe, the only one left.

Even so, when my universe had been in existence, there were not many half-breeds like me.

I simply went from being the only one of my species to the last of my universe.

As I had no home universe, nothing was tying me down, nothing truly bound me to reality any longer.

Such a concept would not only destroy most beings, it would literally wipe them out of existence. But most people were not remade with aureum and tenebris, there was nearly no one else in the entirety of the multiverse with existence and nonexistence flowing simultaneously through them.

"Oh, I was born here..." Pollux said easily, his smile not slipping as he spun me.

"Impossible," I continued to smile, speaking quietly. "No one born here is a player of the Space Jam. Barely anyone in this universe even knows of its existence. Not even the Doctor himself... you do realize you stand in his presence? The Oncoming Storm... the last TimeLord?"

"I know," Pollux had the audacity to snicker, "I noticed him, both of you the moment you stepped into my threshold. You two and that red-headed human. Allow me to clarify, I am no player myself, I've never even encountered one. Until now—I can't believe you're here..." He smiled. "I presume the TimeLord doesn't know who or what you actually are?" His voice was quiet and breathless, a shimmering twinkle in his eye as he stared down at me with something that looked similar to adoration but was not.

It'd fool the majority of people here though, most people would think him to be love-struck. Most people might even think I was equally as enchanted with him.

It took everything in me to not look back at him with annoyance. To allow my face to portray how peeved I am with this entire situation.

Was I scared? Not really.

If Pollux wanted to reveal me, he would have done so by now. He wouldn't go this route—whisking me to the dance floor and speaking to me in quiet whispers.

He wants something, the question is simply what he wants.

"If you want the TimeLord to remain blind to you and ignorant of the Space Jam, then you are going to help me," He demanded with a smile, twirling us around, sashaying toward the edge of the floor.

All eyes were still on us. My smile twitched—annoyance momentarily flickering in my eyes.

"What?" I asked quietly, desperately trying not to bark with mad laughter. "You want a letter of recommendation as to why you should play the Space Jam?" I hushed with a small snort.

His face flickered into something reminiscent of being appalled.

"The rumors are true—you really are mad..." Pollux gritted.

"Most of the time madness is the equivalent of power and brilliance... so sure—call me mad or insane or downright crazy, it's your choice," I hummed back as he lifted me, dropping me to the other side and we shuffled around each other.

Personally, I don't think I'm insane. But you know, people and their opinions.

"Now what do you want my help with?" I clicked.

He stared down at me, it was obvious he was beginning to struggle to keep up the look of adoration as he watched me.

"You're not afraid...?" He recognized. "But you're still willing to help me?"

"Why the fuck would I be afraid of you?" I laughed in his face. Hopefully, to the public, it only looked like he'd whispered a funny joke to me. "I may not be afraid but I also don't need an idiot such as yourself messing me up. I'm too close to the end to afford any fuck-ups. I imagine that whatever you need will prove to be a smaller inconvenience than you crashing out and screaming about one of the ultimate players in your midst..." I sighed as I fell against him, allowing him to hold my body as we spun.

The music was getting louder—faster as the dance changed to something more upbeat.

Pollux clutched me tightly to him, his entire being having tensed.

"How does the TimeLord put up with you?" He asked with furrowed brows. "You seem so... unhinged... I like it..."

"Sorry to say I don't really like you, and the TimeLord doesn't yet know how unhinged I truly am... at least I don't think he does..." I mumbled, still annoyed about being in the dark regarding my future self interacting heavily with the Doctor's past self.

Pollux quirked a curious brow, but I waved him off—stopping his question before he could ask.

"That's not a story for you. Now tell me what you want. We can only dance for so much longer before we're interrupted..." I hissed through a smile, not missing the fuming Doctor standing next to Amelia at the front of the crowd watching us twirl.

He did not look dangerously mad; nothing had provoked his infamous TimeLord fury. However, if the furrow of his brows was anything to go by, he did appear immensely annoyed at the sight he witnessed and he seemed worried.

"Those people—my parents—they're idiots. Idiots who have fucked me, I want them dead..."

My mouth dropped into an 'O' and I know my eyes reflected a what-the-fuck expression.

"Your parents fucked you?" I said with shock. "Against your will?"

"Metaphorically, not literally!" He said right back, spinning us around.

"What're you complaining for then? Kill them if you want them dead? Is it that hard to sneak poison into their food or drink? Or you could always go the more blunt route of beheading them? I'd suggest using a machine gun but those aren't around yet, are they?" I rambled quietly.

"Ugh, enough, I can't explain now—look, they're already suspicious..." He muttered, causing me to briefly look toward them.

They were both smiling, but Mrs. Ashworth leaned into her husband and muttered something in his ear. Her gaze was sharp on me and her son.

"So what the hell do you want? I am still not following who you are, to be frank, nor what you want. You said you're not a player and yet you are somehow one of the only ones in this entire universe that is aware of the Space Jam..."

Pollux turned us yet again. "Rest your head on my shoulder..." He told me. "And make it look like you're actually doing it because you want to like it's natural...."

My grin was tight, but I did as he asked, leaning my body further into his and resting my head on his shoulder. He clutched my waist tighter, nearly hugging me as we twirled about the dancefloor.

More whispers broke out.

His parent's eyes narrowed at us. They knew something wasn't right.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver—he knew something wasn't right too. And he was ready to step in.

Pollux brought his hand up from my waist, gently pressing it into the back of my head as he sighed.

"Just dance with me... just breathe and sway to the music... beautiful..." He muttered. "Beautiful... Polaris Jade..." He said softly, bringing his nose to my hair as he spoke.

It was oddly personal and probably looked the same from the outside.

As we spun, I briefly caught sight of the bow-tie-wearing TimeLord.

Oh, now he looked pissed off.

Amy was grabbing his arm, shaking her head, and speaking to him.

I quickly looked away before we made eye contact.

"How do you know my name—?" My demand was cut off by a vibrant golden glow that overcame both of us.

The golden light enveloped us completely, an overwhelming and searing brightness that swallowed everything else.

I tried to wrench myself free, but Pollux's grip was ironclad. The heat surged through me, burning and twisting—not my skin, but something deeper. My cells? My very being? I screamed, the sound torn from me involuntarily, and through the chaotic din, I heard the Doctor shouting my name, his voice frantic.

"PJ!"

The world blurred and dissolved. A sensation of unraveling gripped me—my molecules breaking apart and reforming like threads being torn from a tapestry and hastily re-stitched. Pain lanced through me, sharp and electric.

And then—nothing.

For a moment, there was silence and stillness, save for the residual buzz of whatever had just happened. Slowly, my surroundings came into focus: an open expanse of dry earth, ringed by dense trees, the faint outline of the town on the outskirts of Victorian London visible in the distance.

Except, now it was mid-day. No longer was it the evening as it had been only moments prior.

The contents of my stomach came up faster than I could stop it, breaking and spilling from lips in thick chunks. My body bent over as far as it could in the dress as I heaved—the feeling of being ripped apart and stitched back together so hastily and recklessly taking its toll.

I vaguely heard Pollux emptying his own stomach somewhere nearby.

Minutes passed before it finally stopped and my stomach evened itself out, my shaky hands coming up to wipe my lips.

Standing upright and stuck with no other option but wiping my hands on the edge of my dress, I whirled around.

Anger burned bright in my eyes—Pollux had just stood upright getting his own bearings after being ill.

"What the fuck was that?!" I roared.

He stumbled forward, his steps uneven, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

Before he could answer, I lunged. My fist connected with his jaw in a satisfying crack, the force sending him flying backward. He landed hard, skidding through the dirt before coming to a groaning stop on his back.

He went many feet—I had hit him with more force possible for any average human.

"You absolute bastard!" I yelled, already storming toward him.

I grabbed the scruff of his shirt and yanked him upright, his head lolling for a second before his cerulean eyes snapped to mine.

"Pretty girl... insane girl... unloved girl... insane Jade... pretty psychotic and unloved Polaris Jade... our savior..." He wheezed with a titter, almost singing, wincing as his hands weakly clutched at mine.

"Oh, you haven't even begun to see psychotic!" I spat, shaking him for good measure. "Start talking! What the hell just happened? Where are we? Who—no, what are you?!"

Pollux winced again, his gaze flicking past me as if scanning for something—or someone.

"We... jumped," He managed, coughing. "I fucking did it!" He cheered through coughs.

"Jumped? Through time?" I demanded, tightening my grip. "You don't even have a Vortex Manipulator!"

"Space too," Pollux rasped, his lips twitching into something that could have been a grin if it weren't for the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "That light... it was me. My... gift."

"Your gift?" I hissed, shaking him again. "Who in the hell just has a gift that rips apart molecules and throws people through the fabric of reality?"

"You?" He groaned and tilted his head back, seemingly done with trying to defend himself against my interrogation. "I told you—I'm not just anyone."

I released him angrily.

Pollux sat up, brushing dirt off his fine clothes with an irritated huff, though he winced slightly at the movement. I stood over him, fists clenched, waiting for an explanation that actually made sense.

"You're lucky I don't kill you," I muttered, my voice low and threatening. "Start talking, now. What the hell just happened? And don't even think about feeding me more cryptic bullshit."

He groaned, rubbing his jaw where my punch had landed. "Fine. You want the truth? Here it is," He said, standing and steadying himself with far too much poise for someone who had just been flung into the dirt.

"That light back there? That was me manipulating the energy from your TimeLord's precious TARDIS and the scepter. It wasn't easy, by the way. I had to time it perfectly to throw us backward five days."

"Backward in time... this is bullshit..." I repeated with an incredulous scoff.

"Yes, about five days," He confessed, crossing his arms. "It was either that, or risk staying there and having my parents notice you. And trust me, they would have noticed you."

"Why would they care about me?" I snapped, my frustration mounting.

"Because my parents are... not like you," he said carefully, watching my reaction. "And not like the Doctor, either. We're not human. Not human and not kind. We're from the Krystalline Empire where perfection isn't just expected—it's enforced."

"Not human," I repeated, my mind racing. "So like the Doctor in that sense. And your parents?"

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "They were exiled. Kicked off our world for crimes I'd rather not talk about. Let's just say they didn't exactly uphold the ideals of Krystalline perfection. They crash-landed here when I was sixteen and decided this planet would make a fine substitute for the life they'd lost."

I frowned, suspicion etched into every fiber of my being. "So they've been living here ever since? Just... blending in?"

"Oh, they're more than blending in," Pollux said, his voice heavy with disdain. "They've practically taken over this side of London with their intelligence and charm. Perfection has its perks, after all. But don't let their flawless faces fool you—they're dangerous. And they've got plans for this planet, plans I don't want any part of."

"What kind of plans?" I demanded, stepping closer.

"To take it over," He said bluntly. "At least this continent. And they're using me to do it. I'm... special. Unique, even among my people."

"Special how?"

Pollux hesitated as if weighing how much to tell me. Finally, he sighed. "I have abilities. Small ones. Telekinesis, mostly. It's not much, but it's enough to make me valuable. Especially when I can funnel energies around me. Prime example of me being able to harness the residual energy from the TARDIS and the scepter to bring us here..." He made a grand motion to everything around us. "It's exactly what they need to finish their plan. I don't want to help them, but they don't exactly give me a choice."

I stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. "So why not run? If you hate them so much, if they use you so horribly then why stick around?"

"Because I can't," He said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. "They'd find me, no matter where I went. And even if I could escape, I'd never be able to go home. I'm stuck here, just like them."

Something in his tone—bitter and resigned—made me pause. For the first time, I saw beyond the smug arrogance and smooth exterior of someone trapped in a situation they couldn't control.

"So you dragged me into your mess to what? Assassinate them for you?"

Pollux met my gaze, unflinching. "I didn't have a choice," He said simply. "I need your help, who is better suited for help than THE POLARIS JADE herself...?"

The Doctor.

But I didn't say this out loud.

"How the hell do you know about the Space Jam? The multiverse? About me? No one knows me as THE POLARIS JADE—not here."

He sighed heavily, brushing dirt off his pristine clothing as he straightened. "I was shown you—everything... or at least, most things... I think..."

"Shown? By who?" I barked, stepping closer, my glare sharp enough to pierce through him.

"Not who. What," he said, lifting his hands as if in surrender. "It's not exactly something I wanted to know, but the artifact—well, the scepter—showed me."

I narrowed my eyes. "The scepter? You're telling me that tacky piece of junk your parents stole is some kind of intergalactic knowledge machine?"

"It's not junk," Pollux said, his voice suddenly sharper, defensive. "My parents stole it from our home world before we were exiled. It's ancient—older than my people, older than anything I've ever known. And it's not just a scepter. Hidden inside it is something far more powerful... something alive."

"Alive?" I echoed, skepticism lacing my words.

He nodded. "A fragment of a greater whole. One of nine."

My heart skipped a beat. The air between us seemed to thrum with a weight I couldn't ignore.

"Go on," I urged, my voice quieter now, my curiosity outweighing my frustration.

Pollux hesitated, then continued. "I spent years in its presence. My parents kept it as a trophy like it was just another symbol of their perfection, but it wasn't. It didn't just sit there. It... reached out. I could feel it, humming at the edge of my mind, a pulse of energy that didn't belong in this galaxy. In this universe. One night, it finally connected with me—telepathically. It showed me things."

"What kind of things?" I asked, my voice sharp again.

"Visions," He said, his gaze distant. "Of other worlds, of lives being torn apart. Of you." He looked at me, his expression serious now. "I saw your face, your name, what you're trying to do. And I saw the Space Jam for what it really is—a prison, a trap, something that needs to end. You're right about all of it, and the artifact knew it too. That's why it showed me."

I stared at him, my mind racing. The odds of this being some convoluted lie seemed slim—there was no way Pollux could have known my name, my goal unless the scepter had truly shown him.

"What exactly is this artifact?" I asked, my voice quieter now, my eyes fixed on him.

I had an idea of what it was.

"It's one of the nine," He said simply. "One of the nine objects tied to the arbiters. Each one represents one of them, their power, their essence. The fragment is hidden inside the scepter... it represents the Arbiter of Will."

Will. The word echoed in my mind, and suddenly, the puzzle pieces of my mission started to shift, falling into place.

The will to end it all.

"How long have your parents had it?" I asked.

"Since we were exiled," He admitted. "It was one of the only worthwhile things they managed to take with them before they were thrown off our world. They don't understand what it is—they see it as a pretty and expensive trinket, something to show off to their followers. But I know the truth, and now so do you."

I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing. "And what do you want from me, Pollux? You didn't just drop this on me for fun."

He smiled faintly, the expression more bitter than smug. "You're right. I need your help, Polaris Jade. I need my parents out of the picture—for good. They've used me my entire life and treated me like a tool for their plans. I want to be free, to live on my own terms, with the person I love. But I can't do it alone."

Something in me softened. I could understand such a want, better than most.

"And in exchange?" I pressed, though I already knew the answer.

He met my gaze, his expression serious. "I'll give you the scepter. No fights, no tricks. The object of the Arbiter of Will is yours."

I studied him for a moment, weighing his words. The temptation to punch him again was strong, but I knew the offer he was making was too important to ignore.

"Fine," I said, at last, my voice firm. "I'll help you, Pollux. But if you try to screw me over..."

"I won't," He interrupted. "I want this as much as you do."

"Good," I said, turning away. "Because I'm not leaving without that artifact."

▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂

All right—let's start again.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙅𝙖𝙢: 𝘼𝙣 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨

If it was not clear before, I am THE POLARIS JADE.

The star, the champion, the key, the crowning ace player of the Space Jam. Nearly unbeatable, number two only to the Destroyer—the being who taught me how to play and thrust the game upon me in the first place.

The Space Jam is an interdimensional bloodsport orchestrated by ancient entities known as Arbiters—omnipotent beings who maintain the multiverse's balance but thrive on its instability.

Powerful people are chosen as the players. And the players; well, we're drawn from different universes and pitted against one another in a high-stakes series of trials—ranging from deadly combat to strategic survival games. Each match has ripple effects across the multiverse: outcomes alter timelines, collapse realities, or sometimes, just sometimes, it can even birth new ones.

The Arbiters claim that the Space Jam "tests the strength of reality's champions and therefore the strength of that reality itself—a reality is only as strong as its strongest, and only the strong survive".

In truth, it serves as entertainment for their nihilistic existence and a way to manipulate universes to their own ends.

Freedom is the right of all sentient beings—just because one universe might be weaker, that shouldn't mean destruction to it.

I was recruited—or rather kidnapped—by the Destroyer specifically to dominate the Space Jam. My amalgamation of Aureum and Tenebris makes me a nearly unbeatable player considering the power an entire universe burns through me.

Not to mention; unlike every other being in existence except for one, I am not tied to any particular reality. My home universe was destroyed—and I should have been destroyed with it. Anyone else would have been.

Yet, here I am, very much alive—a woman tied to nothing.

Many call me the ultimate wildcard of the game as I can literally reshape entire outcomes with my decisions.

But here's the thing about being the "ultimate wildcard": it makes you dangerous—to everyone. Including the Arbiters.

At first, the Destroyer saw me as his perfect creation, his masterpiece. He took my broken pieces—my Aureum, my Tenebris, my grief—and forged me into a weapon sharp enough to cut through universes. But in time, I became something else: an anomaly, an uncontrollable force in a game designed to be rigged.

That's why I'm here now. Not to play. To end it.

Enough is enough. No more.

The Space Jam has no winners, no finish line, no higher purpose.

It's chaos disguised as order, balance maintained by ripping realities apart. And the Arbiters? They're not gods—they're leeches. Feeding on the collapse, thriving on the carnage.

They call it a "test of strength," but the truth is simpler: it's a game they no longer know how to stop.

That's where the scepter comes in.

You see, the Arbiters left behind breadcrumbs across the multiverse—artifacts tied to their power, echoes of what they are. They're relics, shards of the constants they claim to oversee.

The scepter Pollux's family has hoarded for generations? It's way more than a fancy heirloom. It's the power of Will itself.

Will, one of the Nine Arbiters, represents the force of rebellion, of agency—the unyielding drive to choose one's path, even when all other options are taken. Fitting, then, that the artifact found its way to a boy who spent his whole life rebelling against his parents.

Pollux—he felt it. Over years of living in its shadow, he made a connection to it, unintentionally forging a telepathic link with the Arbiter's fragment. And through it, the artifact showed him things.

The Space Jam. The Destroyer. Me.

This was no coincidence. The artifact was a beacon—and Pollux was its unwilling messenger.

So here's the deal he offered me: help him break free from the life his family has chained him to, kill his parents, and in return, the scepter is mine. No fights, no bloodshed. Just a clean exchange.

He wants to be free to live the life he wants. And I—well, I need that scepter.

It's the seventh artifact I've found. Out of nine.

Nine fragments, each tied to an Arbiter. I've spent years collecting them, and with every piece, I've come closer to my goal: dismantling the Space Jam from the inside out. Each artifact is a key—not just to the game, but to the Arbiters themselves.

With all nine, I can sever their hold over the multiverse and collapse their arena of chaos. Destroy the level of consciousness that the Arbiters have acquired, and put them back to simple states of matter.

That's why I'm here in this universe.

This universe, the Doctor's universe is a convergence point—a reality where several threads of the multiverse naturally intersect. This makes it uniquely strong in the sense that it is incredibly hard to collapse from the outside, unlike most universes.

It is why it is safe from the Space Jam; one of the few universes that cannot be destroyed. That cannot be impacted or influenced from the outside. It's why five out fucking nine artifacts are here.

I have seven, counting the scepter, and only two remain, both hidden somewhere across time and space in this universe.

It's why I chose to be with the Doctor. His TARDIS is a keystone of travel, the quickest and most efficient way to shotgun myself across the time and space of this reality. The Vortex Manipulator was making my search far too long, and once it broke it only made my decision to travel with the Doctor that much easier.

Even knowing that I would need to keep the ultimate secret from him. But his TARDIS also made me that much harder to track. The Destroyer, the Arbiters, the OBSIDIAN JAX (I try not to think about my literal evil twin) could already barely peak into this universe, but in the TARDIS, I was near impossible to find.

The Doctor's mind is unlike anything I've ever encountered. He sees patterns where others see noise, and finds solutions where others see dead ends. I need him.

But what he doesn't realize is how much I want to protect him too.

The Doctor's universe is special. It's a convergence point, a keystone of multiversal stability. If it falls, the dominoes follow. And I won't let that happen. Not to him. Not to anyone.

So here I am. Here is where I have been since I got her nearly 80 years ago, doing what I've done since even before that. Since I decided that enough is enough: no more. The Space Jam will be no more, if it's the last and only good thing that I ever do.

I will continue to cheat the system, I will continue to lay down with the worst of the worst, I will make more deals, collect all nine artifacts, and continue playing the long game.

For the greater good. All for the greater good.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually win.