The Master stared at him evenly, shaking his head with disdain. Is that it? That's your solution? Perhaps you'd rather have me die in your arms again? Would that be a fitting death?

Three minutes to go. What would the Doctor do about it? Would he try to save him? Or would he put his own survival first, as he had before? He raised his arm and tapped his wrist, smiling a little, though he was beginning to feel a little faint, his body panicking due to its rapidly depleting oxygen stores.