She exits the bathroom, clad only in a long towel which is just long enough to not be indecent, while also still being not exactly decent. The slit of it runs up her thigh and all the way up to her waist, the top of the towel hiding her nipples but nothing above that. The water is still glistening off her skin, casting an ethereal glow off her as she stands in the doorway.

There is something...feral, about her. More than feral. Predatory. Like a great huntress which is in constant pursuit of something. Thane Krios is focused. He is not dead. Still, he is at least polite.

"Your dress is on the couch," he breathes.

Samara nods, lips pursed as he rises. The floor shakes again, and he blinks, turning to the windows. "Odd," Thane breathes again, "Is Illium prone to tremors?"

In answer, the orange globe forms around Samara's hand, forming into an image of a familiar asari.

"Justicar Samara," Tela Vasir says, "Priority sighting. Confirmation of aberrant biotic abilities. Ardat Yakshi located."

The message ends. Samara looks up. "I need to get dressed."

...

She leaps, swings her leg out and kicks. The high heel pump, not her choice of footwear but foisted upon her by Liara, flies through the air point first. It hits the biotic field, breaks through the shield, and comes inches of Morinth's throat before she bobs out of the way with a swear.

The vampire growls, reaches up, and pulls down the ball of roiling blue light towards Jane. Jane just grins, leaps, and punches it. The ball of pure force explodes. It explodes in complete violation of the laws of biotics, of the laws of technology. This only pisses her off more.

"Stop doing that!" Morinth snarls, eyes a solid black. "Stop. Not. Dying!"

"Sorry sweetie, but you're not my type!" Jane Shepard runs leaps, and flies through the air towards the Ardat Yakshi. Memories come to her. Containment organisms. Biotic weapons. Alpha Predators. A yell, and she swings, fist colliding with the biotic barrier. A wave of gold slams into the wall of blue. The night of Illium becomes day.

"You weren't like this before I fed on you!" Morinth's eyes go wide. Both hands extended, she glows, a solid figure of raw power against the almost effortless power this human is directing towards her. "What the Hell are you?"

A blast of force sends Jane back to the roof. She doesn't hit the roof, she doesn't fall onto her back and roll up. She just lands, effortlessly, on her feet. Smiling, Jane grins as the disc of gold hovers on her forehead. As the ring of gold forms behind her, and she flexes her arms with an audible crack.

"Me?" She rolls her neck. She hears the words deep inside her, deep past her mind and all the way in her soul. "I'm Commander Shepard." The world around her becomes a pillar of molten gold. Her voice becomes a thundering reverb, as if the voice of God from On High. "And I am the Lawgiver."

Chapter 15:

Cast in the Vision of Terrible Glory

Sneakers pad against the metal as she leaps out of the car before it comes to a stop. Her heavy coat swinging around her, holding the blue disc under her arm, Jenny Shepard runs through the hole in the apartment wall roof and straight into the still dazed Liara.

A ball of pink and blue tumble to the ground. Liara disentangles herself first, pinning Jenny to the ground by pure accident. The asari Matron and the young engineer stare at each other, looking down to see how Liara has instinctively mounted Jenny. They clear their throats. "Sorry," Jenny says, "Not the time or place."

"Agreed," Liara says, and climbs off Jenny, helping her up, "Right. Yes. Ardat Yakshi. Fighting Shepard."

"Demon of the Night Winds?" Jenny scratches of the back of her head. "I thought that was something made up for porn."

Liara turns to the girl. Jenny shrugs. "Sexy, biotically powerful, can't become pregnant and become more powerful with every person they do sexy things with." Jenny spins the disc in her hand. "I mean, tell me that doesn't sound like a fantasy."

Liara shakes her head, grabbing Jenny by the wrist and pulling her along. "There is no reason I should be the level headed person here." They run along, through the holes in the wall, through the broken debris and broken glass. "That disc? Shepard's armor?"

"Modified. Good stuff. We need to find her." The disc flashes, showing Pria's face. "At least, that's what the AI keeps insisting."

Liara sighs, rolling her eyes. "Really could use Wrex right now."

...

Relay travel is instantaneous. The distance and time that is involved in space travel is from traveling to the relays- and Illium's relay is in its system, meaning he arrived in a matter of hours. Urdnot Wrex steps off the shuttle, onto the platform, and grins. Reading behind him, he pulls out the shotgun, sliding in the thermal clip with a click.

"Welp." He walks to the edge of the platform. He ignores the looks of the other passengers. Humans, mostly, going to help that colony he helped save the collective asses. Some asari who want to be green, too. Might be a fashion trend. "Down we go."

He grabs the edge of the metal ladder, the one marked by warning signs and how the companies aren't responsible for what happens if he climbs down these ladders. Holding his shotgun in one hand, gripping the outside of the pipes, Wrex laughs and slides down, feet tapping rungs to control his downward descent.

It takes minutes to reach the tree canopy. Minutes more to reach the decaying soil, filled with composed and shredded something which fills his nostrils with stench. Still, as a child of Tuchanka, this is not the most offensive thing he's ever smelled.

Urdnot Wrex has come to the surface of Feros. It is an old place, untouched by civilization. In every direction, there is wilderness marked by the entombed metal of the spires. This was once the seat of something. This was once a world that belonged to the Protheans. So Wrex asks himself;

Why did the Protheans build the spires?

He feels it before he hears it. He listens to something in the distance.

Something which reminds him of a human animal he looked up on a lark when he was bored and had extranet access. Hagana. Heyana. No, wait.

"Hyena," he rumbles.

Something laughs in the distance. Something which makes trees bend, which makes the soil dry and rise into a cloud of debris which begins spinning towards it. Larger than him. Larger than the shuttle which carried him here. Larger than the Normandy.

Really big. And laughing. And tearing up the ground as it comes towards him.

"Ah crap."

And with that, Urdnot Wrex runs.

...

The wave of blue and wave of gold collide. Eyes go black as Morinth swings her arms forward, sending rocks and glass towards Jane. Grinning, Jane runs. She kicks off, running alongside the wave of shards, skipping over rocks, and drives her foot into Morinth's stomach with a flying kick.

Morinth grunts, blue blood staining her teeth. Hands extend and a blue bubble surrounds Jane. She hangs in the air, swears, and is then driven straight down, into the roof and out through the windows three floors down.

The bubble pops, and Jane swings around, digging her heel into the ground. Which, she realizes, is the windows on the side of the skyscraper. Which she is now standing perpendicular to. "Oh what the fuck is this," she mutters, "I'm Spider-man?"

She kicks off and runs vertically up the skyscraper. Morinth bursts through the glass sides of the opposite tower, bolts of blue blasting out the windows behind Jane before she kicks off and sends herself fist first into the Asari. Fists and knees impact. A sphere of blue bounces between the buildings. Curses and grunts fill the air, and then Jane is shot out with force.

She bounces off one building, cracking windows before falling flailing through the air.

Towards the ground, she realizes. A quick memory check makes her recall that the cities of Illium, such as Nos Astra, are build raised from the ground due to the high surface temperature of the planet itself. Meaning she has a long way down.

"Oh for fuck's sake why can't I fly-"

Flapping her arms, Jane spreads out as she descends, picking up speed as she passes floor after floor of the towers and raised streets. Screaming, she begins to actively wonder what her bullshit magic powers do about terminal velocity and high altitude impacts. But, then again, she is N7.

So she straights herself out, flattening herself into freefall position. Arms spread out, legs spread out, mentally going through anything she remembers doing that might slow her descent.

"Shepard!" Engines roaring and diving towards the surface, the air car besides her opens and reveals Jenny at the wheel and Liara holding on for dear life.

Jenny swears, grabbing the disc from Liara's lap and hurling it out of the car. Liara reaches out, screaming almost as loudly as the engines and sending the disc spinning onto Jane's back before the car pulls up.

Black spreads over Jane's arms and legs. Blue metal folds out, covering her extremities, then her torso and shoulders. The air in front of her ionizes, and Pria's face appears.

"Listen closely. You need to attune with the armor." Jane blinks. She opens her mouth to ask what Pria means. "Quiet. Right now. Direct your essence downwards. Tell the armor your name. Tell it what you are. Think 'down' and think 'mine."

Jane raises her eyebrows. Well, she thinks. It's not the stupidest thing she's done since she started glowing. "Normally this takes twenty minutes. You have twenty seconds! Do it! Now!"

And she does. Her breathing slows. The lines of her armor begin to flow with gold, lines of sunlight running over the chest, over the plates of the shoulders. She turns in mid air, straightening herself and picking up speed.

She hears it. Guttural at first. Then speaking in tongues. In tones of windchimes and rushing rivers. Of bubbling lava and thunders from on high. And she opens her eyes. Her bangs of red hair scrape along the ground. Blinking, she takes a deep breath. Plates of blue cover her face, cover her head. A single line of white parts the uniformity of her helm.

Shoulders flare out. Her gauntlets become bulkier. Plates flex along her sides, along her boots. Within, red light begins to glow.

As she rights herself, her feet hovering inches off the distant, cracked ground of Illium, she hears a voice that sounds like an old friend.

"Air elemental channeled. Systems attuned, charged, and online. This Armor heeds the call of the Prince of the Earth."

Flame blasts from her boots and her gauntlets, and with a whoop of joy and surprise, Jane Shepard takes off like a rocket. Trailing smoke, trailing flame, she speeds up. Past traffic, past Jenny and Liara's car, into the skyline and directly towards the blue sphere that is her enemy.

"Hey there, honey!" Jane bellows, "I'm baaaaaaaack!"

And fists first, she slams through the shields, through the biotic force waves, and feels Morinth's ribs crack as she sends them both into and through a tower.

...

Fear is like a fine dish. Best served in sparse portions, best cultivated. Best made special. Urdnot Wrex considers this as he runs through the forest floor. Grinning, grinding his teeth with a laugh, he glances to the sides as he sprints, hands on his shotgun and blasting debris and dead wood out of his way.

Laughing, chuckling, he turns and glances around him. It is around then that he considers the actual weaknesses of the Krogan. Krogans, he muses, are prey.

Twisting from side to side. He pumps the shotgun as he hears the laughing. Eyes dart on either side of his head. Grinning, lips parted and mouth pulled back, he considers something he rarely does. Which, when chased by a laughing mass of wind, is probably something he should do.

He feels his neck creak. He looks up. The black wind forms a face, looking at him with many, many eyes.

"Crap," he breathes.

Then, there is motion. The air around Wrex crackles and moves. There is a shout, and the wind screams, shaking as heavy footsteps send trees falling and moves the floor of the forest. A tree flies, parting the wind, and the creature shrieks before speeding off into the distance.

Wrex turns. There is light framing the forest floor. A great ring which surrounds the new arrival, framing its hunched back as it walks towards him, its hump and its long flowing robes. As the light dims, as the footsteps stop echoing, Wrex's eyes go wide as he meets the blue eyes of the krogan before him.

Shorter than him. Walking straighter, more upright than him, longer neck and thinner frame. Long white cords frame the krogan's head, pulled into two braids falling to the waist of the white robe, held together by black beads and tied rope belts.

"Well," the krogan says, "It has been many, many ages since I met another of us."

Wrex parts his mouth. He blinks, glances up and down. "You're krogan?" he asks.

The white haired krogan grins. Producing a walking stick in is hand, there is a laugh as the head of the staff whacks Wrex on the nose. "Indeed I am," the old krogan says, "Mm. Berserker, too. Odd." An eyebrow raises. An eyebrow, Wrex notes, that has a tuft of white hair. "Wouldn't think you would be able to keep your head and make it here."

A hop. Far more nimble than a krogan should be, the elder lands on a tree stump. Standing on one leg, holding the staff level, the mouth parts in a toothy grin.

"I am Golah." Eyes flash. Essence flows around. "Great Sage Equal of Heaven and Master of the Mantra of Betterment. And you, child, should come with me."

...

Boot jets flare as Jane carries them through the hotel, smashing through floors and glass fixtures. They leave debris and holes in their wake, and glass shards pelt Jane along the back from Morinth's own biotic sphere.

Acceleration ceases momentarily. Jane lets Morinth smash into the ceiling of the hotel room, gathering gold along her fist before punching the asari in the stomach and sending her through the far wall.

On the room's bed, underneath the framed picture of the naked krogan, a turian raises his cup. "Still not what I ordered, but it's got my attention."

Jane mutters a swear and flies through the hole, fists first and into a wall of crackling blue force before she's hit in the face by a flying bed. Grunting, she headbutts it and smashes it in two, carrying herself through the debris. Stepping through the cloud of broken bed frame, she leaps. Rockets on her elbow flare and she carries herself fist first into Morinth's shield.

The resulting blast clears the room. Walls and ceiling disintegrate, tossed into the air from the shockwave and revealing the open Illium sky. "Just fucking die," Morinth growls. She reaches through the shield, grabbing Jane by the throat, and swings her over her head to slam her face first into the floor.

A pulse of blue sends Jane flying across the room, dragging a trench in the floor where her head was planted. The asari roars. Anything not bolted down lifts off the ground. Windows shatter into sand. The air crackles with electricity as she gathers a bolt of pure force between her hands.

And then her hand explodes. The echo of the gunshot follows the eruption of blood and flesh as she screams, the bolt disappearing, the debris crashing to the ground.

She turns to the open window, just as the figure crosses the distance between the two towers, and a blue armored turian slams his fist into Morinth's face.

The turian removes the helmet as Shepard watches Morinth fly through the hole in the wall. As the black faceplate hits the ground, her eyes go wide. The plates around her head shift and retract, retreating into the collar, and she locks eyes with the blue irises of her sudden companion. "Garrus?"

Garrus Vakarian grins, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck. "Good to see you too, Shepard." His mandibles twitch, as the wall cracks and pulverizes, clouds of torn apart metal and cement rising into the air. "Goto mentioned that we're probably similar about now, except our powers come from different sources. I'll explain later."

The walls give way. Surrounded by a nimbus of blue light, Morinth rises into the air. Abandoned skycars, chunks of wall, panes of glass orbit her. "So," Jane says, "That's a problem."

Garrus grins. His mandibles twitch. "Not a big one, really. It's amazing what they keep on Omega. Did you know that in Upstation Sector, this guy had a Maw?"

...

There is a shriek. Bursting from the roof of the hotel, a Thresher Maw screams as it flies through the air, slamming into Morinth's shields as her eyes go wide and she yelps, holding back the tentacled beast with the sum total of her power.

Maws are wild beasts. Berserk worms which feed on pray in an orgy of violence. So it is natural that Morinth didn't understand why the beast held still while Shepard ran up its back and punched her in the face.

...

The asari goes flying. Fuck, she thinks. That last punch hit harder than she thought. Now she has to chase her down again.

She gracefully twists, spins, and lands on her feet. The form of the Maw shimmers, shrinks, and becomes Garrus again, who rushes over to her. And there is a flash. Time slows for her, the run turning into stop motion. And there is a golden light behind Jane's eyes as the word echoes in her mind, over and over again until it a drum beat of pounding recollection.

...

Lunar

"-like a brother to me."

She stares at her face in the mirror, a face her own. A finger traces on full, lush cheeks and ruby lips. She is a thousand years old and and has not aged a day. Turning, she smiles to her husband, and the man next to him-

"-has no idea how lucky he is."

The ocean spray fills her lungs but she can't stop laughing, holding onto the black fin with both hands as the pirate fleet smashes to bits of wood and metal around them. A final dive into the ocean as she holds her breath, and there is a leap. The form of the great beast changes in mid jump, turning back into a man as he catches her in flight.

Her arms wrap around his shoulders as they touch down. They are kissing before his feet touch the floor.

"-I know, I felt him die. You did all you could. I'm leaving it to you. Build something better from it. Live."

She turns the key as the door breaks down. Turns, facing the executioners, the soldiers they once trusted. They intend to kill her, to seize this city. But she will have none of that. She smiles, folding her hands behind her, and savors the looks on their faces as the city rocks with explosions.

And the water rushes in, and she takes her last breath, and-

Jane's eyes snap open. Garrus grabs her wrist as she almost tumbles off the roof. "You okay?" he asks.

She nods. "Fine. Where'd Morinth go?"

...

Buffling the nail, he leans back on the easy chair. Glancing downwards, he notices the speck of dust on the leather shoe. The shadows shift, and the dust is gone, consumed. Tenting his fingers in front of his long mustache, Mister Sunshine begins softly whistling.

Which is when the windows explode and the glowing blue ball impacts on the floor in front of him. It rolls, flashes, and Morinth stands up from her kneeling position with a flare of her nostrils.

"Neat," he says.

She turns to him, nimbus of blue around her fist. "Who are you?" she demands.

"A fan," Sunshine says with a wide, toothy grin, "Oh, very nice. Betrayals all the way down." Black tongue licks pale lips. "Almost too good to be true. Betraying your family, betraying your society. And the small ones, too." The smile goes wider. "And you're single, too."

She snarls, and lets loose a blast. The blast is wide, massive...and stops inches from Mister Sunshine before dissipating. "Temper, too. Feisty." He stands up, dusting off his suit. "And now the big man wants to talk with you. In the parlance of the tentacled bitch who believes itself top dog;"

Assuming direct control.

The man jerks. His feet rise an inch off the floor. Shadows fill his eyes and mouth as a third eye folds itself out on his forehead. With every breath, inky darkness exhales from his nose, tendrils reaching out from behind him one moment to be gone the rest. And Morinth, once fearless, once proud, realizes on a basic level what is before her.

Hello, Mirala, he says, mouth too wide, smile stretching off the corners of his face, I've been watching you for some time.

The glow retreats from her hands and eyes. Glass crunches under her feet as she steps back.

"What" She swallows, dry. "What are you?"

I am the Ebon Dragon, Shadow of All Things and Imprisoned Architect of a Reality not dissimilar to yours. The smile goes wider. And I have an offer for you.

...

Garrus fixes the helmet back onto his head. Popping open a compartment on his waist, he pulls out a small, dried cookie formed into a conch. Cracking it in his hand, he tosses it in front of him. "Wait," Shepard says, "Shouldn't we be chasing after-"

There is a rush of escaping air, and where there should be dried crumbs and maybe a bit of paper, there is now a bike. Well, not a bike. There are no wheels, simply two glowing blue pads making it hover off the roof, red vents along its frame to provide thrust, and the steady hum of a mass effect generator at its heart.

"The fuck," Shepard states.

"Got it off a drug lord on Omega," Garrus says, climbing onto the seat, "Decided to keep it for myself. I mean, considering the utter bullshit that we're both capable of, I almost think a skycar's too mundane."

The engine revs, the bike hovering off the ground. "Get on."

Jane rolls her eyes. Her helmet folds over her face again, and the jets ignite. "Keep up," she says, and blasts off. Underneath his helmet, Garrus grins and guns the engines, taking off in pursuit.

...

Glass cracks against her flat heels. Something is wrong about this thing, this being, Morinth thinks. No, everything. Everything is wrong. Eyes should not open that wide. The edges of the mouth should not extend past the years. The air should not warp around him like it was trying to get away.

"You." She swallows, dry. "You know who I am? How do you know my name?"

You cannot keep secrets from me, Mirala. The voice is a sharp base and beautiful soprano at the same time. The voice speaks with legions, speaking as one. I know all about you. Your betrayal of your mother. Of your sisters. Of so many others. Such a sweet symphony of backstabbing.

He reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing a spot of liquid black from the pulsing slit at the center of his forehead. It brings a tear to my eye.

He leans back, sitting in the same chair Mister Sunshine claimed. Hands tented in front of him, the shadows around him move. Tendrils probe out one moment and are gone the next, the light in the room moving as if to avoid him.

"You're here to trick me?" Electricity crackles along her arms, along her remaining hand. "To fight me? To bring me in?" She grins, lip stained with blue blood. "Stronger than you have tried."

The smile of the dragon only goes wider. Oh, you are a treat. Fingers tent in front of his face. Thumbs press together, shadows dancing around them. I'm here to make you an offer. You're going to die, and the death of one as doomed as you I find...beautiful. And yet, unnecessary. I have an alternative.

The hands part, and the shadows craft before them a ring. It is delicate, wound of fiber and metal and delicate beautiful jewelry. It twists and turns between them, the light playing off it to make it glitter. Make it sparkle. Make it burn.

Morinth's hand extends. Her remaining hand. Her left hand. Whether it was by her decision, or by his she does not know. She does not think. She knows only what the ring possesses, and what she always has sought.

Power.

It slips upon her third finger. It tightens and digs deep, but does not draw blood. Instead, it digs deeper. She can feel it in her heart, in her mind. In her soul. Her eyes turn the purest black and her breath catches in her throat.

And so ends the story of Morinth, before it can begin. The three eyes narrow. And so begins the Fate of Mirala. Queen of Hell. And Azure Bride of the Ebon Dragon.

...

One would think, Jane muses, that they shouldn't be giving Morinth so much time to recover. On the other hand, she muses, N7 combat training doesn't really prepare her for being able to punch someone halfway across Nos Astra.

"That's the place," she says.

The tower approaches- and Jane whistles, looking at her heads up display. That last punch sent her a good seven and a half miles. She has to tone it down a bit- if she tried that on someone who wasn't a superpowered biotic, or a Reaper, that person would probably have to be identified by the stain on the wall.

God damn, she thinks. She can punch people across cities.

Who the fuck needs these powers in the first place?

Her musing is cut short, however, as the windows explode. Every window on the tower shatters outwards, the entire tower shaking as something happens inside it- some sort of massive displacement, broken glass pulverized to powder...

No, she thinks. No, that isn't powder. That's sand.

Silver sand which begins pouring out of every window of the tower. Overflowing, shot out through the mid levels with enough force to slam into skycars, send traffic into confusion and accidents, and abrade the sides of buildings.

Diving down, she acts on instinct, pushing cars out of the way of the geysers, moving floating wrecks out of traffic. It takes her a moment to realize what she did- how quickly she got distracted from pursuing this monster for a gut instinct- and she shoots back towards the roof to find the hoverbike already parked and Garrus standing in front of a room filled with silver dirt and rocks.

"The fuck is this," Shepard breathes, helmet folding back into her shoulders, "She was right here."

Garrus snorts. Kneeling, he slides his hand over the sands. "Moon dust," he says, "Something replaced everything in this building with moon rocks."

Shepard blinks. "Which moon?"

Garrus shrugs. "Don't know. I can find out." He stands up, rolling his shoulders. "Give me a few minutes, Shepard. I'll figure out what happened."

He opens his arms. His eyes go wide. And the caste mark flares on his forehead as he perceives. He walks onto the sand, glancing from side to side. Ears open to hear the sounds of falling sand. Through his boots, his toes feel how the grains filled the floor- up, not down. Like it exploded upwards, but then began to fall.

Garrus Vakarian listens to the world. The world speaks back.

Standing in the entrance of the sand filled penthouse, Shepard sighs, taps her forehead, and lets the light flow out from the caste mark on her forehead. It illuminates the room, giving light to her partner as he explores, expands and oh what the fuck, she thinks.

"How'd you become a hanar?"

"I can take the shape of whatever I kill," Garrus answers, voice distorted, musical.

"Why'd you kill a hanar?"

"This one was a serial killer on Omega." A cough. "I know what you're thinking, but it's Omega. If any place was going to make a hanar serial killer, it was Omega."

Jane shakes her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She turns back to the skyline, ear perked and hearing the whine of an approaching skycar. Following the red and black vehicle with her eyes, she breathes a sigh of relief as it passes. A sigh which catches in her throat as she turns and comes face to face with a silver velociraptor wearing a monocle.

"Again. The fuck?"

"Right" The creature honks, swishing its tail behind it. "I know what it looks like, but it's not a terran dinosaur. It's a Kakliosaur. Krogans used to ride them into battle." The thin, two fingered arm reaches up and adjusts the visor on its left eye. "It's useful. Better sense of smell and sight than my normal form."

"Can it open doors?" She folds her arms, cocking an eyebrow. Garrus nods. "Clever boy."

"Very funny," Garrus mutters, swishing his tail, "And yes, I get the reference."

He drags his snout along the sands, snorting out clouds of silver dust. "Interesting. This is not a random distribution. There is a pattern scratched up in the wall- almost like the something is trying to talk with us, as ridiculous as it sounds." The raptor raises its head with a honk. "Incoming skycar. I'm going to investigate deeper. Cover me."

Jane turns to the skyline, then back to the sands. The tail of the thresher maw disappears just as she mouths another statement that sums up her feelings on the shape shifting turian.

"Commander Shepard." Jane turns back, just as the asari steps out of the car and walks towards her. Tall, clad in red armor which apparently lacks a zipper. A face which is very, very familiar. "We have met before," the asari continues, "At the bar."

Jane blinks. "I drank you under the table."

The asari nods, rocking slightly on the heels which are somehow part of her armor. "Yes. I owe the bartender ten credits." She nods, slightly. "I am Samara. Justicar. I have been tracking your progress and have watched your battle with the Ardat Yakshi via the skycamera network in Nos Astra."

An eye peaks out of the sands. It catches sight of Samara, then darts back beneath the grains. Samara does not see it, however. She simply falls to one knee, hands clasped in front of her face.

"It is an honor to finally be able to greet you," she says, "Lawgiver."

...

The massive room is lined with red. It looks, from first glance, like leather. But it moves, pulses in time. Golah enters as the white ribbed curtains part, followed by Wrex. "Excuse me, but I rarely entertain guests," the Sage explains, "The occasional visitor, the occasional scholar. The Winds have been rather aggressive lately, and they usually devour visitors before I find them."

The sage rests on the walking staff, turning to the Battlemaster. "Are you thirsty? Let me get you something to drink."

The old krogan walks across the sinewy floor, leaning on the staff, past the foam like couches and bone white tables. Leaning the staff on the wall, the krogan grips the handles built into it and pulls. Cold air pours into the room, white light illuminating the shadows as a voice of mournful agony shakes the walls, begging for release. For oblivion.

"Later," Golah says, retrieving two crystal flasks, and closes the doors of the makeshift ice box.

Wrex simply stares, before sitting down on one of the wrinkled couches. It contours to his shape, shifting around him to better accommodate him. Wordlessly, he takes the offered flask and takes a deep pull, finding it refreshing. And strong.

"The occasional screams from my home keep away the Winds," Golah explains, leaning back on one of the couches, "They fear loud noises. And, the fight that my home gave me made quite a few." The lips part into a toothy smile. "It's also why I let it live. The occasional moan, shriek..."

A bell tolls. Reaching next to the couch, Golah rises, taking long strides across the open room. In one hand, the Sage produces a long pick, bone white and blood stained. With a single, smooth motion, the pick is driven to the hilt into the leathery wall. The room shakes and a shriek echoes. Nodding, Golah pounds the wall three times with a the back of the hand.

"There," the Sage says, removing the pick, "I am trying to install a pool. Last time, it turned cystic." Walking back with a shake of the head, the tongue clicks. "I am training my home to be obedient."

Collapsing back onto the couch, the Sage tents fingers in front of the face, cocking a bushy eyebrow. "Now. What can I do for you?"

Wrex taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch. His mind struggles, whirring. Some part of him realizes that he has finally met a Krogan who is more Krogan than him.

"Well," he says, "Well. Yes." He blinks, glancing from side to side. "I've never met a Krogan like you, first off." He takes another sip of the strong liquid. "You said I was a berserker?"

Golah nods. "Yes. Which is why it impresses me that you found me." Hands folded, the Sage grins. "I would expect a Scholic, or messenger of some sort. Not a Berserker."

Wrex cocks an eyebrow. "Don't know what those are." He leans back, smirking. "I'm the only kinda Krogan you find, really," he rumbles, "And that gives me an idea just how old the guy in front of me is."

A small laugh from the sage. "And gives an idea of how much Tuchanka has changed," Golah says, "Because you think I'm a man." Grinning, she leans forward, popping the staff up next to her. "I hear these words from you, hanging about you like a shroud. Clan. Genophage. Rebellions." Eyes narrow. Lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me, Wrex. It has been millennial times since I set foot on Mother Rock and communed with Mother Star. What has happened to our home?"

...

It was explained to her, in veiled half truths thousands of years old. That the Order of the Justicar was created by the Lawgiver, a traveller from Beyond who wore the Sun on his brow. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach that made Jane ask herself a question.

The memories- did they belong that thing? Were they his harem?

"Shepard. I can't find a single trace of Morinth." A pause, and she hears his mandibles click. "Sorry. Yeah, also, changed back to normal. You can stop distracting the Justicar. I'll deal with her."

Jane taps her ear, depressing the receiver. The silence, itself, speaks volumes. Garrus, at least, has the decency to cough.

"Question," Garrus continues, "Am I the only intolerably lethal person other than you who understands armor protects your precious organs?"

"Don't you mean vital?"

"Stopped caring about my heart and lungs after I lost them a few times. Hold up." She hears the grunts behind her, and hears Garrus climb out of the sand, coughing up balls of wet soil. Jane, on the other hand, rubs her nose while trying to avoid staring at the cleavage.

She muses on whether or not to tell Garrus about the extensive clothing damage she has suffered since getting her shiny golden powers. She also muses on whether or not Wuffles will end up showing him pictures anyway.

The corner of Shepard's vision lights up and her omnitool glows. It appears first as a blue line, then as a ball. Then the red line begins vibrating along the vertical center. "Hello, Commander Shepard. The Normandy has just docked at Nos Astra spaceport."

Jane blinks. "EDI?"

"Refits and repairs have been completed," the AI continues, "Admiral Hackett has assigned the Normandy to a priority mission. I would suggest leaving for the Normandy as soon as you are able." A faint pulse along the hologram and the omnitool beeps. "I have sent over a new crew manifest for your perusal."

She steps aside, listening to Garrus as he begins explaining the details, the evidence, to Samara. Locations, markings on the walls, composition of the sand. Hopefully making eye contact, too. And where did that come from, she asks herself. Tapping her omnitool, she brings up the list in front of her. Names, ranks, histories.

And then she sees the name of her new executive officer.

The resulting dust cloud from her take off makes both the Justicar and the turian cough, as Jane flies at speed through the Nos Astra night.

...

Shakily, Liara climbs out of the skycar, helped along by Jenny. "Sorry for the rough ride," the redhead explains, "Jane taught me how to drive."

"I." Liara swallows. "I thought Shepard didn't have a driver's license."

Jenny shrugs. "Didn't stop her."

The two walk along the rooftop. Liara stumbles, holding her head. Waving off Jenny, she shakes her head with a tired smile. "Sorry. Just a little drained from fighting the Ardat Yakshi. I just need to get over this vertigo." She smiles. "I'll be fine."

And then there is a burst of flame as Jane flies past in her armor. Liara is gone, carried off by Shepard, the roar of the boot jets- and Liara's shriek- echoing past.

Jenny waves. "I'll meet you there!"

...

The airlock doors slide open, releasing sterile air onto the roofless docking platform. Shrugging his shoulders back, Kaidan Alenko enters Nos Astra and glances to either side. He spots the security robots- LOKI mechs. A name which does not fill him with confidence. It is an acronym, of course, but he's been shot at by enough robots as is.

The hardsuit creaks as he walks. He feels the familiar weight of his pistol on his hip and the shotgun on the small of his back. Looking left, looking right, he scratching the back of his head. Tapping his left wrist, his omnitool appears, followed by the blue sphere.

"EDI, didn't you say Shepard was going to meet me here?"

"That is correct, Lieutenant Commander Alenko. She will be there in roughly ten seconds."

Kaidan shrugs. Then he hears the roar, hears the shriek. He looks up, briefly, before taking a step back, and his eyes go wide. The roar becomes deafening, and Kaidan taps his wrist. The crackle of charged kinetic barriers surround him the split second before the armored figure lands in a crouch, fist embedded into the ground.

Slowly rising up as lines of gold run up the blue armor, she extends her arms and catches Liara. The asari continues screaming, as she has for the past several minutes. Face a shade paler blue than usual, Liara simply squirms out of her grip and collapses to the floor. She shudders like a leaf in the breeze. An apt comparison, considering how she got there.

The helmet parts, and reveals Jane Shepard. Hands on her hips, golden disc on her forehead, she grins as Kaidan works his jaw and says his first word to her in almost a year.

"What."

...

The Normandy's elevator opens to reveal the massive doors of her quarters. Back on the old Normandy, her room was a bunk, a desk, and a toilet. Cerberus' upgrade was a loft bigger than a penthouse suite on the Presidium.

Her hand hovers over the green circle. It is now that Jane Shepard realizes that she has been away from the Normandy for several days. Several days where Autochthon and Iri were given free reign, and it makes her wonder one important question.

Have they upgraded my quarters?

Green eyes narrow. Ideas, thoughts come to mind. Her loft may have a lava floor now. The model spaceships she keeps on her desk may be armed and equipped with mass effect cores. Her door could lead to a pocket dimension where she is Moon-chosen Empress of the Galaxy.

Stepping back, she reaches out and presses the button with her finger. Air hisses, the doors open, and Jane opens her eyes to find her loft exactly as it was when she left it. "Oh thank God," she mutters, shoulders slumping. Shaking her head, Shepard stomps into her loft, hands on her back and stretching as she yawns.

Rolling her head to an audible crack, she kicks off her boots and works her jaw. She has a meeting in thirty minutes with her staff- Kaidan, the Salarian observer, the grunts she has onboard now, and whoever else she has because she stopped reading her roster when she realized Alenko was onboard.

"Wondering when you'd get here."

Shepard spins, sock clad feet failing to catch on the metal floor. She slips, she pitches through the air, and ends up standing on the corner of her table, balancing on her big toe.

Sitting on the couch, feet up on the table, he flicks his mandibles and grins. "Neat trick," Garrus says, "You learn how to fly without the armor yet, or do you need to get heat vision first?" He shrugs. "I just grow wings. Pain in the ass to put on armor, though. I was thinking of just going shirtless. Or maybe getting the tailor for that human with the white catsuit."

Jane narrows her eyes. Still standing on one toe, she folds her arms and glares at the turian. If he noticed, he doesn't show it. "What're you doing here?"

"Catching up," Garrus responds with a shrug, "Thought I'd come with you. I'm going to have to go back to Omega at some point, but I figure whatever you're doing right now involves saving the galaxy, and you'd need a shapeshifting horrible creature with a sniper rifle."

She hops off the table. "Probably, yeah," she says, walking over to the couch and slumping down. Tapping the bottom with her foot, it folds out into a minifridge and she pulls out a small bottle. "So, anything new? On Morinth?"

"Gone." Garrus shrugs. "No idea where she went, but we'll find her. I can find anything." He leans back. "I really can. I can look at a place and figure out things which no one else can. It's like my detective skills are super-turian, now."

She snorts, sipping her beer. "Prove it."

Garrus taps his nose. "Joker had sex in here."

And Jane chokes on her beer.

...

Thermos in one hand, he sips the coffee as he walks into the cockpit, passing the perky redhead- Chambers- as he does so. Joker hears the footsteps and turns, hands on his armrests and leaning back into the leather chair.

"So, XO of the new Normandy," Joker says with a grin, "How's it feel, sir?"

Kaidan shrugs. "Feels good." He sips his coffee. "So, you and her..." He angles his head towards the departing Kelly, already out of earshot. "You two..."

Joker nods. Then his face goes stone, glancing from side to side. "That's not against regs, is it?"

"As long as you're still as good a pilot, I'm okay with it." Kaidan sips the coffee again. "So, we have an unshackled AI on the ship. Shepard has...armor that flies. I'm...I'm still trying to understand what the crew quarters are. What did I miss?"

"Also, spider mechanic."

Kaidan nods. "Yeah, the spider mechanic with the eighteen arms and the quarian girl." He taps the side of the thermos. "And the gigantic spider in the cargo hold." He taps his foot. "So what happened?"

Joker scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, that's a story. So-"

The lights dim. The ship rocks from side to side as sparks run along the corridor of the lead in to the cockpit. There is a flash of blue, followed by arcing lightning directly next to Kaidan. And with a flash of light, a golden sphere of spinning discs around a single eye appears.

"YES! One directional Mass Relay experiment is a SUCCESS!"

The eye of Autochthon turns to Joker, then to Kaidan. Then to the salarian which has enters the cockpit. Not missing a beat, the one horned salarian waves his omnitool over the floating orb. "Interesting. Unrecorded materials incorporated into a modified drone frame. Must ask. Artificial Intelligence?"

"Sir!" The plates spin. "I am no mere artificial intelligence! I am the Architect of Invention which admittedly has been downgraded to mere godhood!"

"Odd behavior." Mordin Solus narrows an eye. "Yes. Theoretical intelligence transfer into an artificial medium. Not an AI, but instead a brain upload of a possible non-carbon based life form!"

"Yes!" The eye hovers in front of the scientist. "If I were based on any substance, it would be Essence!'

"Essence." Mordin brings up his omnitool again. "Similar to theoretical atomic behavior. Yes! Quantum foam based sentience! This requires experimentation!"

"Yes!" Autochthon booms.

"Yes!" Mordin breathes.

"Yes!" The god sphere bellows.

And in the pilot's seat, Joker goes pale. "Oh God," he whispers, "Now there's two of them."

...

Garrus points to the desk, and the hastily rearranged ship models. "There." He points to the full wall fish tank. "There." He points to Shepard. She slides across the couch. "There. And there, too." Shepard stands up.

"Joker?"

"And the cute redhead," Garrus continues, and turns to Jane, "The new cute redhead. Not the present, cuter redhead."

She purses her lips. "Okay, Wrex did that as well. What the Hell?"

His mandibles twitch. "No explanation, really. You just have a..." He shrugs. "Presence, now."

She folds her arms under her chest. "Well, I take up more space, at least." She levels a finger at Garrus, advancing on him. "Okay, so serious. What the Hell is happening? I'm glowing, and you start turning into dinosaurs."

The turian shrugs. He paces the table, hands folded behind him. "This is as new to me as it is to you." Shrugging, he extends a hand to her with a smirk. "Well, maybe newer. Because you seem to have adjusted to being a superhero pretty well. Not that you weren't when you single-handedly saved the galaxy from Saren."

A small smirk crosses her face, shaking her head. She steps forward, crosses the distance, and pulls Garrus into a hug. "Watch the squeeze," Garrus says with a chuckle, patting her on the back "I just had the armor fixed."

...

The elevator doors open, and Kaidan walks into the shuttle bay. Well, shuttle bay floor. One of the first modifications that the drydock engineers did was moving the armory. Originally located on the same floor as the Combat Deck, it was deemed a risk and all the ordinance was moved down to someplace it could be safely vented. Just in case.

He finds one of the two officers assigned to the armory bent over one of the benches, several disassembled rifles in front of him. Working quickly, efficiently, the rifles are checked, reassembled, and stowed. And then he notices Kaidan, stands up, and salutes.

"Commander Alenko, sir," Jacob says, heels clicked and salute perfect, "Lieutenant Jacob Taylor, reporting for duty, sir."

Kaidan returns the salute. Just as crisp, just as fast. "At ease, Lieutenant." He relaxes, just as Jacob does. "Welcome onto the Normandy." Kaidan glances at the bench, then back at Jacob. "You're...familiar with the ship?"

"Was on it during its maiden voyage, sir." Jacob smirks. "Glad the Alliance fixed this up. Wasn't exactly comfortable with all the big guns a hundred feet down from the cockpit."

Kaidan cocks an eyebrow. "Civilian design team?"

"Cerberus. Good at a lot of things." A shrug. "Ship layout isn't one of them."

Kaidan nods. "What happened, exactly?" He walks the shuttle bay. Jacob walks with him. "I keep hearing chatter about the entire organization disappearing. Back on the old Normandy, we kept finding Cerberus bases, but now the entire group's gone."

"Best I can tell? One of their science experiments killed all the scientists and took over Cerberus." Jacob shrugs again. "In all honesty, I never really worked with them, just with one of their specialists. Smart lady, but not a lot of common sense."

Kaidan smirks. "Sweet on her?"

Jacob rubs the back of his head. "Perils of the job, sir. I seem to be collecting them, and they all fall into the same category."

"That being?" The XO cracks a smile.

"Women who can make sure they never find the body."

Kaidan snickers, jamming his thumb to the elevator. "Bar. As the XO, first drink's on me. We can compare stories."

The elevator doors open. A duffle bag exits first, slamming to the ground and rolling to a stop. A grunt, and the giant who was carrying it-one handed- exits as well. "If I can just ask, how the hell did they fit the third floor onto this ship?"

At first, Kaidan wonders if they already picked the Krogan crew member, because he certainly matches the required size. Tall, meaty, broad, he seems ill at ease in the inform blues. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbows to show off toned forearms. His collar is unbuttoned, to reveal plentiful tattoos. And the face is young. Inexperienced.

And it also goes completely pale when their eyes meet, before the kid clicks his heels together and salutes. "Commander Alenko, sir! Lieutenant Vega, reporting for duty as second Arms Master, sir!"

A crackle of lightning, and Autochthon appears next to the lieutenant. Bobbing up and down, the plates around the eye spin. "Yes. YES. Short range teleportation via installed one-way mass relay is a SUCCESS. Now, I must figure out how to use this as a gun!"

"Why a gun?" Vega asks.

The eye turns to him. "It seems to be what everyone is asking for these days. Always needing more gun." The iris narrows. "When did you get here?"

"Jus' now." Vega rubs the back of his neck. "James Vega. Nice ta meet ya."

"Yes." A flash of lightning and the blue tint of the mass effect, and Autochthon disappears. Jacob rubs the bridge of his nose. Kaidan purses his lips.

"So," James says, "What was that?"

...

The wall explodes outwards. A blur of motion, and the fragments of the wall become an archway, lined with japanese letters and framed by bamboo bracing. Sweeping in with her robe barely touching the floor, Kasumi Goto continues her mix of de-stressing and redecorating.

It is refreshing, she thinks. Her new mansion. Shepard has actually managed to atune with her armor. The Lunar is on the Normandy, and Pria is leaving her alone. Hands up, a picture of grace, the Sidereal thief hums a tune to herself as she half walks, half dances across the main sitting room.

She spots the blinking light on the computer. The computer, she remembers, that Wrex was using before he disappeared. Humming, whistling, she sashays across the room and lightly taps the button.

And then.

And then.

"Oh mother fucker."

And then she stares at the ancient, crudely made cave drawing. The art style is unmistakable. Ancient Krogan. Possibly millions of years old, possibly predating everything else in Citadel space. But she sees it clearly;

The image of the great wyrm that is the Maw, of the monotone images of ancient krogans.

And of the very definitely human woman with red hair.

...

The light clears. Stepping back, blinking, she looks down at her remade hands, her healed fingers. And the ebon band surrounding her left ring finger. Grinning, her eyes go black. The air around her warps, both with her newly boosted biotics and the darkness which dances at her thoughts. The room around her shifts; anything not nailed down or bolted rises and orbits about her.

And releasing control. Mister Sunshine works his jaw, landing on his feet. "And just in time," he muses, "Any longer, and I'm pretty sure we'd need a sponge."

He stands up straight, dusting off his coat. Morinth turns, holding up a glowing fist and narrowing her eyes. "Where are they?"

Sunshine smiles. "My dear, did you think that you were going to be given this power without conditions?" He sits down, tenting his hands. "Wherever you think you're going, you've already left."

The walls of the hotel peel down, folding off. The floors shake and collapse, and Morinth screams as she falls through the air, through the empty sky and towards the silver sands far below. At least, until the stars disappear from the sky and she finds herself standing on a floating platform of pure shadow.

It rises, fast. The shadows around her take definition. Shape. Texture, like great plates.

Or scales.

Ah. My blushing bride. The platform levels with a long shape made of darkness, floating beneath the stares and above the moon colored sands. The shadows part, to reveal an eye. They part again, to reveal great white and yellow teeth. Each tooth, she notes, is many times her size. The eye she could fit a ship inside. I have been waiting so long to meet you, Mirala. My Maiden of Ecstacy.

She takes a step back. The shadow spreads beneath her to keep her from falling. "Goddess," she chokes.

No, Mirala. Think bigger.

The stars glide above them. She turns, to find escape, release. But the shadows around her move higher, and higher, and she finds her feet stuck to the ground. Which she realizes is the paw of the great beast she is at the mercy of. You have chosen wisely, Mirala. Countless subjects await the first Queen of Hell.

"What are you?" she asks. She realizes her voice is trembling, and doesn't care. The eye pins her with a glance, the many pupils running along the yellow, oozing flesh.

I am your new groom, my Maiden. And you are the first key to a prison I have spent an eternity in.

The platform lowers. Her feet touch silver sands before she stumbles back, almost falling. She looks up to find the great shape receding into the distance- and the entourage singing in jubilation beneath it. Now, my Queen, my Bride. I shall await you in Hell. Walk for five days, and you shall be there.

Blinking, she stands and watches it leave. He left her here. Five days walk, he said? Looking down, she sees the satchel. Opening it, she finds supplies. Drinks, food, clothes. Cocking an eyebrow, she hefts it up and finds it surprisingly light. At very least, she muses, that was considerate-

"Did...did the ground just move?"

Yes. It did. A small chuckle between her ears as she turns. I should mention, as well, I left you here for a reason. My sister is somewhat cross with you for taking the name of one of her favored Devas. I would suggest moving at a swift pace.

The horizon shifts. Morinth sees the wall of flame, and the acid sea marching against it. And taking the advice of her new groom, she turns and begins to run.

...

The briefing room table retracts into the floor. Dedicated projectors hum as they come to life, displaying a holographic map of the galaxy. Zooming in, it displays the Exodus Cluster first, then the Utopia star with the five worlds orbiting it. Finally, it zooms in on the second world from the star;

Eden Prime. Time lapse plays. First the world wobbles, and the mass relay appears next to it, releasing the Collector vessel and two Reapers.

"Several days ago," Kaidan explains, "Eden Prime was attacked by the Reapers. This is a conclusive link between them and the Collectors. Shortly afterwards, the entire Utopia system went silent." Hands folded behind him, the XO of the Normandy looks past the hologram and to the assembled crew. "Orders from Admiral Hackett himself. The Normandy's stealth drive can get us past any sensors."

The hologram shifts again, displaying a schematic of the Normandy. The back of the third deck, for some reason, is opaque. "Iri's modifications to the Normandy's Stealth Drive should keep the Collectors from noticing us if they are still in system. Our mission is to get into Utopia, ascertain the situation, and act if necessary."

The hologram fades away and the table rises. Standing tall, shoulders rolled back, Kaidan looks across the assembled group; reading reactions, checking for nervousness or fear. Finding none, he nods. "Let's get to our stations. Normandy needs to be at full combat readiness before we arrive. Commander, Doctor Solus? Everyone else is dismissed."

The others file out, leaving the three remaining. Kaidan clears his throat, turning to Shepard. Managing to look her in the eyes. "Shepard, this is the observer that the Salarian Union has assigned to the Normandy. He's going to be helping us with the Reapers and the Collectors."

Mordin nods, turning to Shepard. "Mordin Solus, STG. Retired. Still have clearance." The salarian folds his hands behind him. "Appreciate taking time for the meeting. Understand has not been very long since you fought Ardat Yakshi. Wish it were here. Would want to study biotic effects."

Jane rubs the back of her neck, shifting from side to side. "Yeah, kind of lost mine." She coughs. "Doctor, how much of the situation are you aware of?" She gestures to her forehead. The disc glows, hovering over her brow. Kaidan blinks but says nothing. "This is-"

"Solar Exalted. Mythical figures in Prothean legends. Possibly connected to repeated exposure to Prothean Beacons." Mordin waves his omnitool in front of her. "Fascinating. May need to run tests. Will be in my lab."

Kaidan shrugs. "Still has clearance." The doors close as Mordin exits, and Jane rubs the bridge of her nose.

"Oh god," she mutters, "There's two of them."

Slowly, Jane turns to Kaidan, the two of them alone. She waits, folding her arms, the glow slowly fading from her forehead.

"You're looking...good." Kaidan coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I needed to talk to you about-"

"Liara told me."

"Oh thank god that's an awkward conversation I didn't want to have." Kaidan grins, nodding. "Anyway. We have time if you want to talk." The grin goes a little wider. "It's good to see you again, Shepard. It was a relief to find out that you were alive."

She nods, smirking. "Hope the shiny superhero powers don't put you off."

He shrugs. "You kidding? My commanding officer's Power Girl." Jane tilts her head, blinking. "I've still gotta unpack my stuff in the XO's quarters. I'll be there if you need me."

And with that, Alenko exits. Jane looks down, reaches up, and squeezes. "Need a cape."

...

Omake:

Panting, she leaves footsteps in the sand as they cover up behind her. Ducking behind a rock, she hears the hissing in the air from the acid, talking sea as it follows her, speaks to her, lectures her. Taking off in a dash, she hears the roar and the flame. Hears the sand offering her deals, but she doesn't take them.

She's in deep enough as is. "Oh Goddess," she pants, running, barely ahead of her pursuer, "Why did he leave me out here? Why did he leave me like this?! What sort of sadist is he?"

...

The brass towers pass by. Reclining on the saddle, Mister Sunshine leans back as the giant, beautiful wasp carries him through the demon city. The shadow around him condenses, and the third eye opens upon his brow. It is time, he thinks. Time for work.

"When I was younger, just a lesser thing," he says, "My lord noticed all the fun I'd bring. Like shooting humans with an Essence gun. I'd poison puppies, when I was done." A smile crosses his face. "I'd find the Clay Man and I'd bash his head."

The Agatae stops. Sliding off of it, the Dragon lands with nary a trip. On the sidewalk of the street in the Demon City, three Neomah wait, flanking him. "And then my King would say..."

The three demons pause. He nods. "What did He say?"

Walking into the building, the shadows flank him, consuming random First Circles. "He said Dragon I think some day," he crosses a threshold. Screaming welcomes him. "You'll find a way." Hands press against a great double door. "To make your natural tendencies pay."

The doors part, revealing a great, low ceiling room. The Dragon enters, silence reins as the varied inhabitants of the Demon City look up, expectant. And then the Dragon strips off his jacket, revealing a coat of pure white.

"~You'll be a Dentist!" he sings, "You have a talent for causing things PAIN!"

The neomah next to him drops as his dancing motion connects with her face. "You'll be a Dentist," he continues, prancing across the waiting room, "People will pay to be inhumane!" A crack as he carries the doll's head with him, exiting to the child's cries.

"You're temperament's wrong for the priesthood." Kicking the door open, he enters the examination room to the sound of the tied down orichalcum giant's struggles. "And Kingship would suit you still LESS." Climbing on the mockup of Autochthon, he slams a knee into its gut. Reaching across the chair, he pulls a pair of pliers. The poor demon in the orichalcum costume stares at it, fear evident.

"You'll be a den~tist." He clicks the pliers. He smiles. "You'll be a success."And he goes to work.