"We know you have thought about destroying us. With the Crucible, you can wipe out all synthetic life if you wished. Even the Geth. And you are partially synthetic- you will not survive if you chose to do so."

"But the Reapers," the commander choked out, head rising to open up her blood-filling pharynx, nose poised spacewards. "The Reapers will be destroyed?" The words that rebelled from the well in her chest were strained, and were as bloodied as her mangled body. But soon, her form began to follow in the resistance from her bodily wounds. Her stripped, gruesome leg planted the sole of its foot to the steel below, and streamed a lifetime's worth of effort into assisting its body to stand.

"Yes, but the peace will not last. The created will always rebel against their creators."

The ethereal speech did not reach the human's ears. At the first word, she began to shamble step by step to her right. A judging silence fell on her shoulders, but at no point did her legs stop moving. The Crucible's limiters needed to be removed manually.

The bundle of nameless, crimson fluid flowed as a skyward river of Hell, with only simple glass preventing its interruption. Piercing blue eyes met its match in the reflection, and she raised her pistol. The hand's age-old aching finger pulled the trigger on the Carnifex, and those eyes blocked sight before the flare and its thunder flew from the barrel.

"Eek!"

"Colleen, sweetie. Don't close your eyes when you pull the trigger. You need to keep your eyes open so you can properly aim."

Those swollen eyes gave another droplet of generous sadness, and the girl turned to the mother holding her ears so protectively. "M-mom, the muzzle flare is really bright, and it's really loud…"

"Hush… Child, hush. I'm covering your ears, and it's only like a little camera flash. Now, remember to line up the orange dot with the bottle, and just pull."

The first slug made its first note of the sonata in the elegy within the see-through wall. The second was its complement, but alas, the concerto was not destined to be fulfilled. Ashen, stringy billows accompanied by the screeching of the Carnifex's heating prompts prevented the digit from allowing the third to make its mark in the glass. The cannon was lit aflame, as if Hell itself was spiting the commander's efforts.

But that did not stop her. Hand now barren of its tool, the human threw herself into the river's glass prison. Face-to-face with two piercing orbs of justice, her fingers melded into a fearsome, righteous mace.

"That's… hnngh! That's a mighty hook you've got there, Lola."

"Agh, God, I'm so sorry!" her exasperated words cried, with her precise digits running to hold James's head upwards from the steel below. "Cortez! Can you grab us an ice pack?"

"Aha… ahahah. That chilled Bud on my desk would work better, mi amigo!"

Thunderous, constant drums shattered the limiter's glass, with the flares of gaseous red accentuating the solo of the mace's percussion. Shards dug into her flesh, lacerating the fragile meat and drawing more rose, but no amount of agonizing sharpness could halt her efforts. Knuckles shattered but the prison's glass shattered first.

Liquid Hell kissed Collen's face, and the flares finally caught up. With Hell enkindled, the limiter's steel was demolished in a violent, lifetaking reaction. The last face that the commander saw was her own, but her thoughts did not linger there. They were stolen, pilfered by the mere thought of the heart that had impelled her to pull that trigger. It was weighty, the thought. But Heaven was not known to turn away those who carried heavier burdens to their grave.

"You're a real gem, ya know that, Shep?"