A huddled family watches the broadcast: "Cybermen now occupy every land mass on this planet. But you need not fear. Cybermen will remove fear. Cybermen will remove sex and class and color and creed. You will become identical. You will become like us." Imagine there's no Heaven. A Cyberman stands over the family, guarding them; others march down the street. The Cybermen come marching, from every house in unison. It's been written that the obsession with the supernatural, the world of Prince Albert, is the symptom of an empire in decline. "And that's the charm of a ghost story, isn't it? Not the scares and chills -- that's just for children -- but the hope of some contact with the great beyond. We all want some message from that place. It's the Creator's greatest mystery that we are allowed no such consolation. The dead stay silent. And we must wait." That was Queen Victoria, from the other end of a magnificent telescope; the Doctor didn't have an answer. See, here, the answer: the terrified faces of families whose ghosts just turned on them. Imagine there's no Heaven.

The Doctor, Jackie, Yvonne, and one of the Cybermen observe chaos from the top of Canary Wharf. The Cyberman is confused: "I ordered surrender." Not getting it. "They're not taking instructions," the Doctor explains angrily. "You're on every street. You're in their homes. You've got their children. Of course they're gonna fight." Cybermen are people, or were, until they had all their humanity taken away. It's a living brain jammed inside a cybernetic body. With a heart of steel. All emotions removed. Why? Because it hurts. "No! The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss -- they define us as much as happiness or love." Sarah Jane again. The Cybermen don't know about fighting.