"Amazing. Absolutely amazing." Said the young man as he clambered out of his recently materialised box. As soon as he stepped onto the concrete pavement, the silver safety deposit box shifted shape, taking the image of a large public rest room with an "Out of Order" sign dangling by a thread on the doorhandle.
"This rock is useful after all... Untempered, uncontrolled rift energy. And it's been active! Wondrous!"
After looking around at the city of Cardiff, the man turned to his machine. Everything had been so easy. In a few hours, his TARDIS would be fully charged and able to take him to any point in the universe, at any time he desired.
"And again he takes his place, as Lord and Master of all..."
Running his tongue over his teeth, the man re-entered his machine and began, for the first time, to properly examine his creation. His eyes were lit up in wonder as he ventured beyond the main console room and into the great corridor which led to the nigh never-ending staircase. Enthralled, he began to open the doors of the corridor at random, becoming gradually more and more disappointed to find that every single room was, at best Spartan and at worst bare.
Sighing quietly to himself, he began muttering to no one in particular;
"Fourteen million rooms to fill with possessions and only eleven lives to do it in... I wonder if The Doctor has managed it by this point..."
Slightly disheartened, the man returned to the main room of the TARDIS and began to read the power intake. It had already absorbed all the power it needed to work at maximum capacity for over a thousand years. The man scratched the back of his head and switched the main screen to a different channel. Realisation dawned. A sly smile crept across his face.
"Unrestrained.. Of course... With Torchwood gone the rift can billow out as much energy as it likes."
No longer feeling glum, the man examined his golden cuff links disinterestedly before beginning to type rapidly on a dirty yellow keyboard below the screen. As soon as his task was completed, he pressed a small blue button on the control panel. A slim mirror slid up through the floor.
"Now for a proper look... Oh my, don't you look young... And handsome too, very nice. Nose is a bit big, but still, you are perfection personified." He clapped his hands together and pressed the button again. The mirror slid back inside the floor.
Satisfied with his self-examination, the man began once more to fiddle with the console, though far less erratically than before. This time, every flip of a switch, every push of a button was meticulously timed and skilfully executed. When all was complete, his began to spin the disk on the console once again.
"You know," The man said to himself as he completed his task and wandered over to the torn leather couch next to the door of the TARDIS. On reaching it he allowed himself to sink into it, relishing the comfort. "I have a good feeling about this plan. For one thing, I'm not wearing a disguise. I think that's been my problem all these years, any time I am in disguise at the beginning of my plan, something goes horribly horribly wrong. This one should go quite well then..."
He looked around the empty room after the physical realisation that he was talking to himself struck. Not at all fazed by the recent revelation, continued his ramble.
"Okay." The man said, taking an odd oblong item out of his pocket. "Always keep a spare..." He muttered as he pointed the device at the time rotor. "The planet Kalaya, in their... Upper middle period, thank you."
The tip of the device flashed red. The lever from earlier pulled itself to the ground. The time rotor began to move, filling the room with a magnificent light. Then came a loud thud. The man took a moment to stretch before getting unhurriedly to his feet and stepping over to the door.
The wide grin returning to his face, the man brushed his hair out of his eyes, straightened his tie and brushed down his jacket before sliding the brass device back into his pocket. Then, he cracked his knuckles and opened the door, stepping into the new world on which he had landed.
He was in a cupboard. His TARDIS had changed into the form of a silvery-metal crate, an image of which the man made a mental note of.
History was about to be re-written. A thousand million years of species development was about to be sent spiralling in a wild and insane new direction. With the power of the TARDIS behind him, there was no way he could fail.
Straightening his back, drawing himself to his full height the man softly breathed four words. Four words that put his troubled conscience at perfect ease. Four words that reminded him of his station, of his destiny, of his birthright and power.
"I have that right."