Disclaimer: The Doctor and all his companions are the property of the BBC and Russell T. Davies. They are not mine, nor will they ever be.



They're here again.

What is it going to take? What is it going to take to get rid of these things – these tin pot dictators with sink plungers, and silly sounding voices, and a ruthless desire to rule the universe?

There's only four of them this time. It shouldn't be that hard. But if I can destroy half a million and they're still not gone, why should four be any easier?

The truth is, they'll never be gone. I know that now. It was foolish to even hope. The universe is a cruel place, and there's no reason why it should take pity on me, the person who wiped out an entire race, and who thought he'd wiped another one too.

This is my punishment, for being so arrogant, so all-knowing. I will never be rid of them. The fight will never stop.

But maybe that's alright. I've destroyed one, and I've destroyed half a million. And now I'll destroy four. And their Genesis Ark, whatever that is. One step at a time. I've defeated them in the past, I'll defeat them now, and I'll defeat them in the future.

Again, and again, and…