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...Just go forward in all of your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.
He'd only just spoken those words to Susan, the last of his family, before he left her on the blasted remains of a Dalek-shattered Earth to start a new life--and help those around her to do the same. The planet would be green again. He knew this, would have even without the benefit of having travelled to its future and seen such renewal firsthand. Humans persevere. Adapt. Evolve. Even in the face of such destruction.
Could the same be said of other species? Would other planets become green again after such a violation? He couldn't be certain of that, no-one could.
He'd seen a planet he loved ravaged by a scourge that had somehow survived, against all odds. How many more planets would they visit their destruction upon? How many more species would fall to their viral infestation? And would they pick themselves back up again like the humans had and will time and again?
No. Some wouldn't. They lacked the indomitable spirit that humans had shown for millennia. Their planets would never become green again.
Thus, the Daleks would have to be stopped. Eradicated wherever they appeared. That was his beleif, a beleif that grew more unshakeable by the moment. He'd been content to observe from the thick of things, but now... now.... He could no longer watch. No longer behave like an intertemporal tourist.
Besides, who wants to be a player when he could be a pawn in the thick of the game? But it was more than that, wasn't it? Things needed to be done and he was the only one who could do them. The only one who could be stirred to do so. The only one who cared.
Rassilon's beard, he cared about all these other beings, now. And there was no going back. He found he didn't want to go back.
The Daleks had to be stopped. That was his beleif.
And he would be the one to do it. That was his promise.