Rolling his eyes, the Master turned around, clasping his hands behind his back. This was even more predictably dull than his own nightmares. He let his head fall forward, closing his eyes, his fingers tapping the four-beat rhythm onto the back of his hand as he waited.

"What exactly do you plan on doing with me, then." The question was nearly rhetorical. He saw the files and had a feeling he would soon be joining the ranks of catalogued alien races beneath the hub. This was what the Doctor's great race amounted to. Scavengers and zookeepers those who were not blissfully ignorant of the Universe around them had to lock it up out of sight.