It doesn't take long for the butterflies around him to be blown apart, and those some distance away are still more or less safely perched. For just a moment the chaos settles down, the wind eases and the air becomes quiet, like the whole space is catching a desperately need breath.

But it can't last, the TARDIS is dying bit by bit, and a deafening clap of thunder rends the air. The vibrations shake the ground without stopping, turning into a small earthquake while the wind howls like a wounded animal. Even though there's no fire or smoke, the air thickens until it's nearly impossible to breathe, it stings, smells rotten. If the TARDIS was aware that someone is still alive in this room, she would do her best to restore life support and reroute the leakage of toxic fumes, but the fuel rods are bursting and she's in agony.