Through fog Thelea found a dream.
She walked, stripped of her disguises: no skin, and no steel either. She was bone only, naked as the womb. A figure kept her company, the Doctor and not the Doctor, a shadow wearing silver eyes and a round old-fashioned hat.
"Why?" she asked him, and rattled like dust.
"I wanted to reclaim you. Your bones are very beautiful. Death disgorges many treasures."
They were in a graveyard where a Flower grew. She watched him stoop to extricate from its roots a skeleton.
"What went wrong?"
"You drank the ocean, then exhaled it. You tore holes in the world to see what was on the other side of it. You abandoned your creations."
"But they - you - have a choice, too…"
They were at the edge of the world, at the edge of a sea of flames. She watched him stare into it, the edges of his thin mouth curling up and up and up.
"What do you want?"
"For one of my creations - just one - to be grateful."
They were in the star, livid with an intolerable light. Crackling and fading, the Doctor told her, "I would not call the experiment a failure. But you will perish here." She saw her true face, naked as the womb, reflected in his small square glasses; and then the light took her.