A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware
This is my first fanfic. Please play nice in reviews (if I get any)
CHAPTER 1 - INTRO
I stared at the being as he stood in front of me, smiling as if he had given me the best gift in the world. His (because it was definitely a he) robes were pure white and gold and appeared to be made of fine silk or possibly soft velvet. They were glowing brightly and it made it hard for my eyes to see clearly.
"No," I said hoarsely.
His face fell into an almost comical disbelief. It might have been funny under other circumstances. As it stood now, I had a hard time believing I would ever find anything funny ever again.
"No?" he asked. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I mean that I won't do it, Manuel. My answer is no."
"But why not?" Manuel the messenger asked incredulously. "Surely this is something you wanted. I know for a fact that you have imagined doing this countless times."
I stared down at the shredded skin on my shaking hands. The blood hadn't even started to scab yet on my latest wounds. The twisted fingers and assorted scars from the last few months making my skin almost look like a badly mashed together jigsaw puzzle. I refused to look around the room. I certainly couldn't look over there.
"Because those are the dreams of someone who hasn't gone through what I went through," I replied. "Or done what I have done."
"But don't you see?" he rebutted. "It's those things that make you the ideal person to go out and stop what will happen to those people."
I just stared at the ground and shook my head. He moved closer and stopped just in front of me.
"Oliver," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of compassion, insistence and soothing. "What you have gone through has managed to mould you into a person that you cannot even see yourself being yet. We know what person you can be, now that you have gone through such…" the being paused as if he was considering his words, "a defining experience."
I glared at him. "Defining?" I spat out. "This whole thing was defining to you?"
Manuel merely nodded. "I know you are angry. I am not trying to minimise what you have suffered. But, I am trying to show you that such tragedy can still have at least something good come from it, even if you don't believe it right now."
I glared at him a bit longer, before I felt the rage in my chest fade slightly. "Why are you even wasting your time with me?" I muttered. "I know who you represent. Or at least, who you say you represent. Surely you don't think that after I did this that I would be able to get any kind of positive attention." I gestured to the bodies around me, carefully avoiding that one.
Something like pity seemed to cross over Manuel's face. At least I think it was pity; the glowing brightness made it a little hard to see clearly.
"Of course He is aware of what you did," he replied calmly. "And believe it or not, that is actually one of the reasons I was authorised to make this offer."
"What offer?" I snapped back. "You are trying to convince me to be thrown into a video game for crying out loud! Right after this butchery happened. After everything I suffered! Why can't you just let me lay down here and die?" I was shouting at him at this point but at that last word I finally did the one thing I hadn't done since… well that other thing happened. I cried.
The feelings of despair, hatred, lack of finality despite everything, loss sorrow, betrayal…. Everything came rushing back and overwhelmed me. Even before these things happened I was never a truly emotional person. I was the guy that was known for being solid. Over the years many girls had cried on my shoulder, calling me a rock. A rock that was securely stuck in the friend-zone, unfortunately. But I was the guy that others cried to. The shoulder to lean on at funerals, which I had attended more than I really cared for, or just when things hadn't been going well in other ways. I was never the guy that just cried. Call me emotionless or coldhearted. Call it what you will, it was the way I was raised. Men don't cry, be a man. That one got knocked into me from an early age. It wasn't until later that it changed to: men cry, but privately. Emotions like that are not what you show to others.
Yet here I was now, blubbering like a baby, in front of another person. Or eternal being, whatever. And I didn't care. And it was the second time in less than three months. But as far as I was concerned, both occasions were more than justified.
I don't know how long the tears kept falling. In fact I think I fell asleep at some point, as exhaustion finally claimed me. Next thing I know I am waking up with my face pressed against the cold, rough concrete floor.
I groan and push myself up carefully. The broken bones in my hands, wrists and arms make the task more difficult than I would have ever wanted it to be but I persevered until I was more or less sitting upright. No easy feat when I am pretty sure my back was broken too. Not to mention all of the other wounds that my body carried.
Sure enough, Manuel was still standing there. He looked at me with such kindness and concern in his face that I am pretty sure that no matter what he wanted me to do I am pretty certain it was better for me than going through what I just went through.
I ignore him for a moment as I look around me. The bodies were all still were they had been left. Where I had left them. Except for the one that I still refused to look at. I didn't cause that one. As I stared at the scene around me I no longer felt rage, sickness or any of the powerful emotions that had been coursing through my system for the last few months. Now, I just felt empty. Hollow really, with a vague sadness that came from deep within me, like an echo emanating from where my heart used to be.
"Why me?" I finally asked, staring at the being. "Why do you want me to be the one that gets put in a computer game? Surely there are better options."
Manuel gives me a sad smile. "There might be," he admitted. "But there are a few things that work in your favour. For one thing, you actually thought about how you would handle the situation, at least a little bit, so you would have a head start. Another thing is that most of the people that might serve as a replacement are currently less likely to adapt to the situation as they know very little about the Mass Effect universe. And finally," he paused as he looked at that place, "everyone else would have people that would notice they are missing. In a way that can't be explained like this can," he finished in a soft voice.
I glare at him feeling the rage starting to build again. "You mean I am only the most convenient choice," I snarl. I'm starting to feel less friendly towards that sympathetic face. "Everyone thinks I'm dead and even if I am not, it would be better for me to just disappear so why not throw the punching bag a bone and put him somewhere else. Just LEAVE ME ALONE!"
My throaty bellow echoes off the bare stone walls for a moment as Manuel just looks at me sadly. He doesn't say anything, just stands there across from me, keeping the room alight with his glowing.
After a long time I look away from him and stare miserably at the floor. "Why do you even care about it?" I ask. "It's just a video game. Nothing in there is real."
"Weeelllll," he begins. I look back up at him, feeling suspicious. "As it turns out, the game is a lot closer to life than people think."
That one gets me. "What do you mean?" I ask slowly.
"Well, as it turns out, the Mass Effect universe… is actually real," he replies, all too casually. "It simply isn't this universe. You see, one of the other messengers was tasked with finding a way to get people from this universe to become familiar with the Mass Effect universe, so as to see who would be able to be moved across to help in the war against the Reapers."
I sit there and mull it over for a moment. "OK, so another being like you gave the idea of a Mass Effect universe to a game designer and Bioware ate it up and made a game out of it. Sound about right?"
"Close," he said. "It wasn't just the vague idea. The events in the game are exactly as they would happen in real life for the people in the Mass Effect universe, no real change at all. If there was no change to the universe, as in I never send you or anyone else there, then things will be nearly exactly as they are in the ending of the game."
"Nearly?" I prodded. I had to admit I was at least a little interested now. If only to listen and try distract myself from my surrounds. This whole conversation was surreal. I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't hallucinating."What's different?"
"Well, naturally, there is no choice as to which Shepard you get in real life. And the damage in real life is probably much larger in real life than the game would show." Manuel gave a small shrug. "And no matter what happens, Shepard saves the galaxy and dies no matter what. The game programmers felt like making things a little bit more optimistic and let the destroy option possibly keep Shepard alive but in real life, no. Dead Shepard and shattered galaxy that then goes into the chaos of civil war as certain people try to put themselves on top of the food chain while everyone rebuilds from the galaxy wide destruction. It takes centuries to fix the damage and costs billions more lives over that period. Other than that, all the main missions, loyalty missions and side quests are exactly as they are in real life. That in itself should give you a chance as you will know in advance what to expect and how to fix things."
He paused and looked at me with a determined expression. "And the real reason I chose you first was because of what happened to you. Look around." He gestured around the room. "Look what happened to you. And despite them doing their best to destroy everything about you, you rose; beaten and broken, maybe, but you rose and did everything you planned to do. You survived and you succeeded." His gaze softened again. "And, believe it or not, this would be a chance for you to find happiness again. The best you could probably have."
I look away again and think about it seriously. Get placed in the ME universe and save the galaxy alongside Shepard. Apparently be happy, but I had trouble believing that I could ever be happy again. At least right at the moment. Or I could be stuck here and have my… situation… hound me for the rest of my life. Or I could just give up.
I look up at Manuel. "Convince me," I say.
The way he looks at me makes me think he is a little unsure and suspicious, maybe a little calculating. "What do you think I have been doing?"
"I think you have been trying to persuade me," I retort. "I have heard about what I can do for them. What possible reason do I have to accept it? Why should I not just say 'no' and lay down and let death take me?" I realise that sounds very drama queen-esque but to be honest, it was still on the cards at this point. "You want me to do this then you need to convince me."
His eyes narrow as he looks at me. I can see that he understands what I had in mind. Honestly, considering who he is a messenger of, I am a little surprised that it took this long.
He sighs. "Why don't we just skip all the nonsense and you just tell me what you want? Do you want to be made a biotic?"
I grunt. "Hell no. I want to be made a Super Saiyan."
He gives me a sardonic stare. "You know I can't do that. Try again."
I grunt again. "Worth a shot," I said. I let out a sigh and wince from the pain in my ribs. It kinda felt like they were grinding against each other. I am pretty sure that's not what ribs are supposed to do.
"Look, if you really want me to do this then I am going to need resources. Money, equipment and other things that I can use to make my most reasonable plan work. Most of that I can achieve if I have enough money to be able to buy stuff later. Not to mention the whole 'not existing in that reality' issue that I just can't be bothered dealing with. So I need to exist, as myself but under a false name, for me to do this, and I need to have enough money to make it work. I am thinking about two trillion credits and about two years to get everything set up before Shepard goes to Eden Prime."
Manuel stares at me flatly, clearly unamused. "Really, is that all?" he asks sarcastically.
I glare at him. "Hey, buddy, you came to me and asked me to do this. You know I am right about needing resources for any plan to work. Otherwise I am just gonna end up stumbling about like all those people who do self-insert fan fiction that have no other plan other than to wind up on the Normandy and pray things go well. That's not why you came to me. You want me because not only will I be able to go there but because I already have at least a vague plan. To do that, I need resources. So again: convince me."
Manuel looked at me for a long moment, his eyes appearing to try and evaluate my very soul.
"I'll be back," he finally said. With a brief pulse of light he vanished into thin air, leaving the room darker now that his glow was gone.
I don't know how long I waited. After a while I fought against the pain and stood up. My twisted and mutilated feet were barely capable of carrying my much-reduced weight. I slowly hobbled towards the one door that led to freedom. I passed into a hallway that was dimly lit by one slightly flickering fluorescent light panel in the roof. I make my way at snail's pace down the hall until I see a door on the left that is ajar. I push it open and see monitoring equipment. It appears to be a surveillance room. There are monitors all showing the dead bodies in the room I just came from. Figures. I knew I had been on camera in that hellhole, I just hadn't realised how many. It was too dark in there most of the time to be able to see. If the lights came on, it usually meant I was about to be too busy to notice something like the number of cameras.
I come over to a computer and start it up. Not sure what the idiots were thinking; it wasn't even locked.
The first thing I notice is the date. I don't know how long I stared at it. The funny thing about being stuck in a dark windowless room without any way to effectively measure time is that you can very easily lose track. Now I see the date on the screen and feel a little ripple of unease push through the emptiness I have inside.
Nine months. I was stuck inside that cell for nine months. I went through all of that hell in nine months! Somehow it feels like it was both longer and shorter than that. Mostly longer though.
After a while I start to open files at random. Video files. All of me, showing what they did to me. And her. And him. I feel the pains start coming again. Not just the physical ones. The ones that make me want to cry. I quickly shut off the video and stare at the blank screen. I take a look at the desk and see a few pieces of paper, a mug of half-drunk coffee, a couple of USBs and a bunch of uncertain stains. Looking at the computer tower I notice an external HD with 2 TB on the side of it. I fire it up and copy as much of the video recordings as I can into it. If there is anything my old job taught me it was to get as much evidence to cover yourself as possible. Just in case.
Once completed I take a few shaky steps and sink into the swivel chair, wincing as pain shoots through my lower back.
"What are you planning to with that?" Manuel's voice comes from behind me. I swivel and see him hovering about a foot off the ground, his expression curious. I don't know how I didn't notice the brightened room.
"Better to have evidence to cover myself, just to prove I am not lying," I replied, breathing a little heavier than I would have liked. The lack of food, sleep and activity over the last nine months is really working on wearing me out.
"Why would you need that if you go into the Mass Effect universe?" he asked.
I decide against shrugging. Pretty sure I couldn't even if I wanted to. "I might need to use it as proof for something," I reason. "Show Shepard or someone. As a last resort."
He nodded. "So you decided to do it?"
I grunt. "That depends on what you have to offer."
His lips twitch into a small smile. "Well, here is what I have been authorised to do for you," he said. "I can put you in two years early, like you wanted. I can fix you up physically so it will be like none of your injuries have ever happened. I can set it up so that you have an identity that exists in their records, as if you were there the whole time. I can also put you anywhere you want in their galaxy. As for resources, I can't give you massive amounts of credits. However," he puts up a hand to stop me interrupting, "I can give you information that would help you get the credits yourself within a short amount of time. You would have to do the legwork yourself but other than that the credits are easily attainable."
I think for a minute. "I can work with that," I reply. "By the way, what are the rules on changing things? How likely are my actions going to change things from the canon?"
Manuel chuckled. "If we didn't want you to change things, why would I offer you the chance to go in and do just that?" he grinned. His face grew a little more serious. "However, yes, if you do nothing to the main characters it is possible to be able to go through with their story completely unchanged. Every action you have will have consequences. There are no 'fixed points' in the timeline but I would caution you that just because you can take action to stop some things from happening, it doesn't mean that you should stop them from happening. Sometimes the actions that happened as we know them were the best choice available. You can die if you are not careful; we are not making you immortal or immune to the consequences of your actions. For all intents and purposes it will be regular life, just with more knowledge"
I mull that over and make a note of that for the literal future. For at least the beginning I should be able to avoid that. Don't have any plans to interfere with Shepard's early life.
"OK. Now, what do I get out of this?" I ask.
Manuel raises an eyebrow. "You need more?"
I gave another grunt. "You have only told me what I can have to do the job. You haven't given me any actual incentive to do it."
He looks at me thoughtfully. Then he looks over his shoulder behind him as if he is looking at someone that I can't see. I see him nod and look back at me.
"We can give you Jason back."
I stare at him in shock before it turns into a glare bordering rage. "Don't make statements like that if you can't follow through."
"But I can. I promise you that if you succeed in this, you will get him back, alive and unblemished, physically and mentally. But it will be you two living in that universe together, not this one. That's the deal."
For the first time I look at the computer monitor in front of me, aimed at that part of the room. Looking at the rotting remains on the floor, much smaller than the others and a few weeks further along the decomposed stage. For the first time in I can't remember how long, I start to feel a little hope.
"And if I die before the end?" I ask softly.
"Well that depends on how. If you try to die early by deliberately walking into someone's shots without reason, or if you commit suicide by any other way, deal's off. Suicide is still a big 'no' to the boss if it can be avoided. If you die doing everything you can, then you get to be with him on the other side. So, noble sacrifice: yes. Stupid suicide: no."
I stay quiet for a full five minutes as I think about this. "You know if you had told me this at the start, I would have agreed straight away," I say softly.
Manuel gives me a kind smile. "I know. But I wanted to see if you were willing to do it first. To let you know the stakes."
I nod slowly. "Alright then," I say. "Let's get started."
A/N Follow/Favourite if you like. Happy to have constructive reviews, just not trolling from keyboard warriors.