‘The Saga of the Time Lords,’ Rose repeated, as the play’s title flashed up once again. ‘Isn’t this a bit like watching a home movie for you?’ She looked around. ‘With really high production values?’

‘From what I’ve heard, it’s more like fan fiction,’ the Doctor said. ‘And don’t get me wrong. I love fan fiction. You should read some of mine. But I sincerely doubt anybody here has ever actually met a Time Lord, let alone been to Gallifrey.’

The rage of Gallifrey was a celestial event. No being could stand against it, no more than one could weather a black hole’s hunger or the fury of a newborn star.

And, of all those wayward, volatile children of Time, none was more feared than the Doctor, for his fury had burned the Time Lords themselves.

‘What do you mean,’ he whispered, ‘you “don’t like panto”?’