Two living and one dead person watched the monitor as Harold Saxon met with the President of the United States, his poor pretty wife on his arm. He had big news about very, very foreign policy, and was kindly handing it over to Pres Winters to handle as everyone watched and waited. Missy and Dr Chang had ordered takeaway and pushed around the detritus on the desk to make room for it. They'd decided to make a day of the announcement, because the dead didn't really need much minding yet, and Missy felt a last meal was in order. Shame it had to be takeaway, but it had been a spontaneous decision. Both of their jackets were tossed over chairs.

Missy had liked Lucy for the most part, a pallid slip of a shadow who knew how to stay in the background and let her Master work. Wooing the locals wasn't exactly new, and she'd picked as best she could back then - money, status, (looks, yes, a politician couldn't have an ugly wife). Ambitious in almost the right ways, but never thought big enough, or dangerous enough. Until she decided to, and completely ruined Missy's plans. That botched regeneration was coming up too. Missy wrinkled her nose. She hadn't had a whole lot of time to think through her plans back then, left gaping holes in the details, too many variables or assumptions. And it had turned out as well as could be expected.

"Is it that bad, having Mr Saxon as the prime minister?" Dr Chang asked. "Or don't you like the idea of aliens?"

"You have no idea," Missy said to both, patting his hand. While at first he'd been a little awkward and fumbling, all nerves and no outlet, he'd grown used to her pets and flicks and didn't hardly flinch at the contact. "But it'll be fun, too."

She pulled out her phone as President Winters began to speak, and shut off any outside access to her data slice. Everyone who died now would simply be dead. Missy was too busy looking at her phone to catch when the president was vaporized, but Dr Chang's gasp caused her eyes to flick up. She had been good looking last time, softer around the edges and small (but the Master, male or female or other, was always small, at least physically) with pretty eyes like whisky.

"Did you see that?" Dr Chang asked, food half-way to his open mouth.

"No, sorry deary. I was looking at my phone."

"The president -"

"Peoples of Earth. Please attend carefully."

"He killed him -"

"Shush," Missy said, holding out her hand for emphasis. "He said please attend, so you should attend."

Dr Chang obeyed her, but his gaze flickered between the video feed and Missy's face, a look of disbelief etched on his features. Missy looked far too smug, she knew, but the paradox machine had been active for nearly two minutes now, so she wasn't worried about him remembering any of this. For a haphazard plan, it had worked surprisingly well at first.

Once Mr Saxon got done taunting the Doctor, he hopped right back into his big speech. "So, Earthings. Basically, end of the world. Here come the drums!"

Missy clapped. She could sense the rip in time itself, the Toclafane pouring out, and couldn't be prouder though she knew how this story ended. It hurt, twisting time until it broke, but good on her past self and her Toclafane, who sounded so childishly delighted the both of them. She'd developed a bit of a parental streak at some point, between Toclafane and Cybermen, her wee babes born from the death of the universe and, well, just death. Humans were so much better crammed into tiny, metal boxes.

"Why are you clapping?" Dr Chang asked, having gone from disbelief to horrified and rightly so. The screen had cut out at some point, presenting an error and a black, empty void.

"Wasn't that an excellent speech? Very to the point. Very honest. Maybe I should have voted for him - that's the kind of politician I like."

Dr Chang stood up, all nervous energy again. He nearly fell over when Missy reached out to catch his sleeve. "Relax, doctor. There's not much you can do but ride it out."

"Ride out the end of the world?" His voice caught, and he pushed his glasses up.

"Yes. Here." Missy held out something, and Dr Chang reluctantly took it, staring at the small fortune cookie she'd placed in his hand. "You look like you could use some good news."

With shaky fingers Dr Chang broke the cookie into pieces, leaving behind the small printed sheet of paper in his hand. He sat down and read it over silently until Missy made kissing noises again to get him to look up. She was training him well, and Missy had no idea how she'd idle away the year if he died. Probably she'd have to take up a hobby.

"Well, what's it say?"

"Fear is just excitement in need of an attitude adjustment."

"That sounds promising. Mine says, 'You learn from your mistakes, you will learn a lot today.' Why I never - Dr Chang?"

There weren't any windows in the Institute, nor could sound pass easily through the dimensionally transcendent space, but they still had Internet. Dr Chang had abandoned his cookie, scattering crumbs across the floor, to look up the most recent news. None of it was good, Missy knew without looking. It'd take some time yet for the Internet to completely fail, and until then it only carried bad news. He was working himself into a frenzy.

She reached over and turned off the monitor, then took Dr Chang's hands in her own.

"You stay right here, Dr Chang, and you'll be fine," she said firmly, looking him straight in the eye and pushing that suggestion front and center. It took for a moment, she could see it, but then his attention turned to the empty screen and... there it went.

"They - those things - they're killing everyone."

"Now you're just exaggerating. It's only about six hundred seventy million people. Hardly everyone."

"What is wrong with you?" Dr Chang asked, pulling himself free of her and standing again. "Why are you so calm? How are you so okay with this?"

Missy also stood. He was just too damn empathetic. No amount of mind control was going to calm him down without some effort, not so soon after her previous self's betrayal. "I suppose I just don't care," she admitted.

Dr Chang ran for the door, as though Missy was more dangerous than the flying balls of blades and lasers currently hunting down humanity. He was right, of course. Missy darted after and slid across the slick floor, catching herself in the door frame before she overshot and fell over, effectively blocking Dr Chang. He looked about to shove her aside, but backed down. Mind control wasn't the only sort of mental conditioning there was, after all.

"You're safe in here, poppet. There's no need to go outside. You can live off crisps and bottled water."

"Crisps and bottled water," he echoed, sliding down to the floor. Missy sat primly next to him, legs tucked under her skirts. "That's how we're going to do this."

Missy nodded, then smacked Dr Chang's knee. "Oh, even better! Stay." She pushed herself back to her feet. She left the office, and returned shortly with a bottle and two plastic cups. "I was saving this for a different occasion with a different man, but I can always get more."

"Not anymore you can't," Dr Chang mumbled, staring off into some middle distance.

"Don't be so pessimistic. Here." She popped the bottle and poured champagne into the cups. Settling back down, she put the bottle on the floor and handed a glass to Dr Chang.

Missy raised her own in a toast that Dr Chang unenthusiastically returned. "To the end of the world."

"Cheers."

They downed their drinks, and Missy poured more.