Jack closed his eyes, shivering a moment before trying to shape the pain that caused, to refine it into a weapon, use it. An imaginary knife, waiting for the Master to come creeping into his mind again, with his drums and his music and his whispers.
"I won't let him get away with any of it, Owen." Jack's voice was quiet, a promise in it that if he ran into the Master, he would try to kill him, if he could. That once he was free of the chains and the room, he would kill the Master, however many times it took to make sure he stayed dead. He didn't know what he'd do here, because he wasn't entirely sure what here was. But when he was sure it was reality he was facing, and the Master where he could kill him, he wouldn't hesitate.