Eons of mighty civilization- who was he to destroy it? How could he? They were his people, however infamous he might be amongst them. They defined him, though in his previous seven incarnations, and truth be told, most of his current one, he had tried so hard to deny that, tried so hard to separate himself, to flee from what he really was, who he really was. And now he paid the price for it. He so much wanted to believe in Rassilon's Ultimate Sanction, wanted to ascend with his people. Screw time and space and the whole goddamn Universe- he would survive, his people would survive, and the rest, well the rest didn't matter.

No. Ethically, he couldn't do it. He'd seen too much, been a part of too much. He'd known too many people, and witnessed too much of every being's life. He'd known too many humans. Ace, Sarah Jane, Liz, they'd all cease to exist. Time-Lords could live without Time; humans couldn't. And Susan. Perhaps she'd survive, but David wouldn't. And what if the two had had children? They wouldn't be pure Time-Lords themselves, even if they had some Gallifreyan blood, without having stared into the Vortex, and they'd disappear like the primates they really were. It would break Susan's heart.

It wasn't just about her, though, or any of his shining companions, dear friends, for that matter, and the Doctor knew it. He had to choose between his people and all peoples. His home and all homes. His happiness and all the happiness in the Universe. Who was he to have a people, a home, happiness, when nothing else could? Objectively, there was no choice to make. For the continuation of everything, he'd have to destroy his everything. And it wasn't okay. But at least he wouldn't feel it.

Considering the circumstances, the plan was the best option. Gallifrey, the Crucible, all Time-Lords, all Daleks, would burn in an instant, when he activated the Moment. A Time-Lock would seal the destruction away from the Vortex, making this Death irreversible. He wondered what Omega would think if he knew what his greatest innovation was to be used for: probably die of shame. Shame would haunt the Doctor too, if he were to live, but he wouldn't have to do so. The only consolation he had was that he would burn with his people. It would happen so quickly he wouldn't feel it, wouldn't have time to regenerate, that soul-crushing remorse, worse than anything that could possibly happen to him externally, would not set in, he would never have to be alone.

The traveler-come-home saw the Crucible overhead, and knew that the moment was now. Briefly, he thought of the TARDIS, the last Type 40 in the Universe, floating somewhere out there, that he never had fixed that Chameleon Circuit, and should some archeologist find it, billions of years now, trillions of light-years away, they'd think that all Time-Lords traveled in 1963 Earth Police Boxes. He almost smiled as the Moment burst to life and the flames engulfed the last of his identity.