Everything she'd worked so hard for. Everything she'd lost, everything she'd sacrificed…

It was bullshit, that's what it was. All this… suffering. All this destruction. Horror upon horror, and somehow it was supposed to preserve organic life in the galaxy?

Fuck that.

Shepard stared at the holographic image of the little human boy. "You're wrong," she said in a cracked whisper. "There's the proof," she managed a half nod out the window at the frenzied battle taking place over Earth. "The geth are out there, with their creators. Working together. United."

"The peace will not last," said the little boy, confidently.

"You can't know that."

"The pattern is clear. The cycle will repeat."

"And how often in the cycle have the created returned to their creator's side?" Shepard shouted. The agony from her broken body threated to overcome her will, darkness crowding in on the edges of her vision, but somehow, she remained standing.

"The cycle will repeat," the boy repeated, but there was somehow a sullen, discordant note to his voice.

Shepard laughed shortly, causing her breath to hitch in her chest and making her gasp. "Never. It's never happened before. You've never allowed it to happen. And now that it has… you can't even respond to it. It's not in the script. Not part of the cycle," she growled the word. "You can't react to change, not really. You're just a machine." Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "Legion was a more evolved being - more evolved person - than you'll ever be. We all are. You are nothing."

She dragged herself forward, paying for every inch with a galaxy of pain.

Control the Reapers, send them away - and salvage the technology, the relays, maybe even the Citadel? No. The galaxy didn't need anything from the Reapers. The best and brightest had already proved what they were capable of. Legion's words came back to her as clearly as if she possessed a drell's memory.

We make our own future.

Erase all lines between organic and synthetic? It was a tempting thought, to remove that which divided. But it wasn't an answer. Diversity, individuality… Mordin knew. They were important. Differences matter. One different perspective can change the galaxy. Look at Wrex, Bakara, Mordin… even Maelon, in his twisted way, all seeing a different future for the krogan.

Legion. Tali. Zaal'Koris.


Lose diversity, and you eliminate perspectives. No.

Shepard's lips twitched. She'd promised to send the Reapers to hell, and that was just what she was going to do. She raised her pistol in a trembling hand, the weight of the small weapon almost more than she could bear.

Inhaled, pushing away pain, pushing away thought.

Sighted. Her hand steadied, rock solid.


Red fire wrapped her and blossomed outward.

Soon, Thane. I'll be there soon.