The endless wastes of Eternity.
The plane on which the Eternals rested sat just at the edge of existence, so close to the void one could hear the rippling of time (thus, why the Eternals called it "the Howling").
To call the journey long would be quite an understatement, and despite the Doctor's desire to further explore the beacon that blinked off and on, there were more important matters, mostly Aislinn's health.
He worried for her, and he worried a bit for Byron, as well. What kind of bargain was creative energy for a soul? How could he blame Aislinn for that, either?
He had done it before. The Racnoss are born starving, is that our fault?
He believed it was. But that creature had no mercy, Aislinn did. She gave them...a choice.
Carrying two cups of tea back into the console room, he took a bit of a breath, handing one to her.
"Long trip, I'm afraid, 'nother twenty or thirty minutes we should be nearing the edge of the Eternals' home."