Turlough was having difficulty believing what he was seeing.
The large yellow happy face bobbing up and down in the air next to him wasn't helping either.
It kept trying to though.
It had already given him a lounge chair and a manicure.
"I can't believe what I'm seeing." Turlough stared at the multitude of views arrayed before him.
"Belief is overrated." God said kindly and offered him tea and biscuits that were floating before Turlough on some invisible force fields.
Turlough took a vanilla wafer and munched quietly. The Timelords had ignored him ever since he'd arrived. One had helped get cleaned up, but they were too busy to do much else about him. They were frantically setting controls on the consoles and running in and out of the doors that seemed to be in six different planets and six different time zones at once. Turlough was getting dizzy. It didn't help that the only time they'd spoken to him, they'd referred to him as Theta Sigma Accessory Number 1,487.
It made Turlough feel like a bit like a handbag.
So he'd joined God who was watching one of the main scanner screens.
It was a little surreal. Trion had heard of the Worldsphere, of course, but only in legend. To the Trions, the People and the Also People, and well, even God was, well, a bit mythical.
Which was silly, really.
The tea was bitter, yet orangey in a way that Turlough found oddly distracting. He didn't take his eyes off the main screen, though. A massive fleet of ships were clustered around the planet below, in a defensive posture. So large were the ships, so many, so much mass… Turlough could barely take it in. He felt as if he were atop a battlement, watching the troops cluster before the castle walls before a final assault.
"But that's Gallifrey!" Turlough exclaimed recognizing the world below them at last.
God frowned, the thick black line of its mouth tugging down at the corners as if drawn by a thick black marker. "Yes, well." It appeared to be considering, as if the question were particularly complex. "Yes, it is."
"But those other ships," Turlough sputtered at the screen, waving his crumbling wafer. "They're defending it!"
God said nothing, but nodded.
There were ships of every shape and size. Some Turlough recognized as Gallifreyan, some were TARDISes, others were battleships the size of moons. There were designs from all reaches of space; Silurian, Hoothi, Yerek, Draconian,…everywhere they flanked the planet, their weapons aimed into deep space, at the darkness that flowed toward them like a tidal wave.
But what blew Turlough's mind, made him stare in bewilderment at his cup of tea, searching for traces of a hallucinogen, were the other ships, interspersed among the ships.
The Dalek ships.
Defending Gallifrey.
The blackness swept toward them, impossibly fast.
Turlough dropped his cup of tea, but never heard it fall.