Turlough was huddled under God, the force fields an invisible umbrella, that the silvery worms bounced off of comically, snarling and spitting as they searched for an opening.
The force fields didn't keep out sounds; didn't keep out the screams.
The cavern popped and splattered with flesh and rock as the infestation burst into their new hosts.
Little Tegan was screaming too, huddled on the platform, high above them all.
The silver worms turned from their attack and, as one entity, turned their attention to her, a little girl upon a rock that glowed an eerie green color.
Little Tegan, helpless in her father's t-shirt, the drool from her sleep still wet upon her chin, looked back at the silver demons.
And howled.
The silver swarm raced toward her.