The Doctor walked over to Mu, frown on his face. His eyes kept straying downwards to the match. Despite his brief conversation and travels with Oliver, he felt like this was his fault. Surely there was something, anything that he could have done to stop this. There had to be. He was the Doctor.

Looking at Mu, he paused, looking at his fist. "I wish I could be of help as well," he responded, gazing out to the arena. His eyes lingered on Oliver for a moment, before turning back to Mu. "It's awful."