He reached into his pocket and produced a small fob watch, much like Martha had once seen the Doctor use. The only difference was that it was a shade of bloody, glittering red, while the Doctor‘s had been silver. He had stored his Time Lord self within such a watch at the time. Suddenly, Martha realized what Aloysius’ watch was for.
“No!” she cried, but it was too late. Aloysius flicked open the watch in one swift movement. An almighty shriek sounded from it, stirring the Doctor, whose eyes widened in horror at what he saw before him.
“Oh, dear God…no…please…” he pleaded helplessly to the malevolent, glittering eyes of the Decori.
A massive silvery form, much like a thunder cloud, rose from the watch. It hovered for a moment, then exploded into hundreds of fragments. All was dead silent–until the fragments came alive. Each of them began to take on a humanlike form–but the Doctor, sickened, knew they weren’t humans at all.
The ghosts of a thousand Time Lords had risen.
A searing, unbearable pain tore through the Doctor’s body, an ungodly scream rising from his lips. It felt as though he was being ripped apart from the inside, each and every one of his cells being torn in half, one by one.
They were moving through him rapidly, the pain of one fading no sooner than the torment of another had started. His surroundings faded in and out of focus from around him, like an old TV set with a faulty knob. He could hear Martha screaming and sobbing in the background–she was near to him, he knew, but she sounded as though she were miles away.
He closed his eyes. The agony of each passing soul was bound to fade to a gentle numbness soon enough, he thought, and, after what seemed like an eternity, it did.
Then there was nothing.