Some of the other Doctors might not have seen this or seen it quite as clearly, but Eight has that knack. The minds and the personal timelines of others show brightly for him. It's equal parts bane and blessing, and right now it has him watching this receptionist and a lot of other people in this building very carefully.

He stops by the desk, quietly, and looks into the red-gleaming eyes. He can't do it for long, but he looks into them as long has he can stand to. This earth smelt different to his time-senses. Tasted different. And it's quickly shaping in his mind why. Interdimensional cross-contact on a massive, deeply entrenched scale.

His gaze breaks by only a millimetre. "I think that'd be best, yes."