The Harvest went off without a hitch and the Master couldn't have been more pleased. The best kind of massacre, he thought, was the preordained kind. Though the world still wasn't providing much of a distraction from his chronic boredom, it was at least looking a lot more like the Hell he wanted it to be.
​
"Look there," he said to the Anointed One. "That's a river of blood. Really quite charming." He gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "And I'm fuzzy on the details, but I hear the research for my dread machine is coming along splendidly."