Surprisingly enough, even The Master began to wonder whether his latest fit of paranoia was a result of his own natural insanity or if it were a direct result of this strange fog that had overtaken the city overnight. Through his most insane times as Harold Saxon and King of the Wasteland, he was always self-aware of just how far he could go and how far he had yet to have taken it. The fog, though, may have triggered something entirely different within his undead brain. It gave him the direct need to survive.

With everyone attending to their own problems, The Master had suddenly gone quiet in the city. The presence of two Doctors was enough to drive an older version of him into a plot of destruction. The goddess he had been surveying for so long had gone missing from his surveillance. However, now, he simply wanted everything to progress and everyone to go on with their busy lives. It was better to come at an unexpected time in his mind. Right now, there was only sustenance on his mind. And he was hungrier than ever.

For once, The Master had not been on the rooftops like he usually preferred. He knew Urd would attempt to find him there. Instead, he broke into a room from a nearby complex and watched the windows from the top floor, waiting for the goddess to show first. The fear in his head of an ambush, even from his most trusted acquaintances, was too great to ignore.

Finally, Urd appeared from the horizon of rooftops against the strange and muggy sky. She looked tired, just like she sounded from his journal entry. The questions for her were whirling through his head. He exited the room and made his way up the stairs to the roof, leaving a small trail of blood behind him.