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The Feast of Axos arrives like a glittering buffet table in deep space—golden, inviting, faintly humming with “this is definitely going to kill someone”—and I, an intellectual, immediately pile my plate sky-high and whisper, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
Oh right. Axos. That Axos.
For the uninitiated (hi, welcome, grab a chair, don’t touch the glowing spaghetti), Axos is this parasitic, energy-draining space entity last seen menacing the era of Third Doctor. Back then it was all shimmering gold and “we come in peace :)” vibes. Now? It’s stranded. Starving. A cosmic wreck washed up on the shore of nowhere. And instead of a grand invasion, we get… desperation.
Which, apparently, is catnip for terrible human decisions.
Enter Campbell Irons—space tourism billionaire, professional hubris enthusiast, walking embodiment of “what if Elon Musk but MORE so”—who decides that yes, this dead-looking alien thing is absolutely a business opportunity. Bring in the astronauts, bring in the investors, bring in the inevitable screaming.
And, of course, bring in the TARDIS crew: Colin Baker’s Sixth Doctor (currently oscillating between theatrical delight and “I will END you”), Evelyn Smythe (voice of reason, tea, and devastating disappointment), and Thomas Brewster (still morally duct-taped together after the previous emotional hurricane).
First thing I love: continuity. Not the boring “remember this?” kind—the juicy kind. Brewster is still… off. Not evil, not redeemed, just… skewed. Like a painting hung slightly crooked and you can’t stop noticing it. His instincts are still “take, survive, don’t ask,” and watching him bounce off the Doctor’s increasingly strained patience is DELICIOUSLY uncomfortable.
Second thing: Axos itself. Oh, they did it RIGHT. This isn’t just a monster-of-the-week—it’s a creature in decline. Weak. Hungry. Reduced. And that makes it worse. There’s something deeply unsettling about a predator that isn’t powerful anymore but still needs to feed. It turns the whole story into this slow, creeping dread instead of bombastic invasion nonsense.
And then there’s the satire—because WOW, subtlety is dead and I’m okay with that. Campbell Irons and his little capitalist space circus are basically holding up a neon sign that says “THIS IS ABOUT GREED.” Exploitation, consumption, the idea that if something exists, humans will try to monetise it even if it’s actively lethal. Peak humanity. 10/10, no notes, we deserve Axos.
…okay maybe SOME notes.
Because here’s the thing: the pacing? A bit wobbly. There are stretches where it feels like we’re circling the buffet table without actually taking a bite—lots of setup, lots of ominous chatter, not always enough escalation to match the premise. And some of the side characters blur together into “astronaut #3 but louder,” which is a shame when the core trio is doing SUCH good work.
But when it hits—it hits. The Doctor’s fury, Evelyn’s grounded empathy, Brewster’s ongoing internal mess… it all collides into something messy and human and a little bit tragic. Nobody here is entirely right. Nobody gets out clean.
And Axos? Still hungry.
Final Thoughts:
A slower, moodier sequel that trades spectacle for decay and desperation. Not perfect, but dripping with atmosphere, character tension, and a very sharp “humans will absolutely lick the alien battery” critique.
4 out of 5 glowing space buffet platters you absolutely should not eat from