So now I wait. I wait here pretending that my world isn't crumbling. But then again, when is my life not falling apart now? Before society was cruel, unforgiving, untrustworthy, unloving, and dark. Now what is left? London is crumbled with the casualty count higher than any other war ever fought. The price was too high. I came to as much peace as any human could with the death of my whole colony being killed by slavers on Mindoir. But I never would wish anyone to have the experiences I have had; not even some of my worst enemies. I lay here, in a white room, too clean for any marine's taste, and all I hear is the sluggish beeping of the heart monitor. All that the small room leaves me is my thoughts. At this point, my own thoughts are as dangerous as the Reapers themselves. I think of all the pain I've caused as a soldier, but by ending the war, I caused more suffering than ever before, and ever I thought possible. There is no more synthetic life. It's gone. I did not kill a small colony, not even a small planet. I destroyed a whole species. They probably are keeping me in this secluded room so people do not kill me. These synthetics that fought alongside us, on my crew, who were lovers to some of my closest friends, were killed at my hand. Legion's death at Rannoch was for nothing now. Joker probably would rather dance on my grave right now than rejoice over my ability to survive impossible odds again. It has been exactly seven hours and twenty seven minutes since I have woken and I've been told that bare minimal information by a nurse checking my stats.
What I have learned since my waking: I've been in a coma for three months, I was trapped under the rubble from the destroyed Citadel for two days, synthetic life was no more, the Normandy was missing, but I am going to live. Life. I never thought I would grow tired of hearing that I'm going to live another day. What's the point any more? Live so they can strap a few more medals to my chest? So they can parade me around like a hero when I know I'm anything but one? During my coma, most of my injuries have healed due to my extensive cybernetics. I can't stay anymore. I refuse to be the cause of any more destruction. I need to leave Earth, this life, everything. The thing that kept me going… No… the PERSON that kept me going, was no where to be found. I had my mind set and there was nothing that was going to change it. I was going to find out what was left of galaxy after the world, and then I was going to disappear for good.
I am Arizona Shepard, and my time as a survivor of Mindor, lone wolf of Akzuze, and savior of the galaxy, are done with. My life without guns strapped to my back are to begin. What's left for me in the world, I don't know, but to hell with it. I'm going to find out on my fucking own.
Author's Note: So hey guys! I'm alive! I've been gone for so long, I just got discourage with writing and just ran out of inspiration. But here is an excerpt on what I'm thinking about starting. It's a post destroy series with an inside look at domestic Arizona Shepard after the war. I'll be looking at more of her emotional scars from her life time and how she has evolved. This will be a piece with a pairing of Femshep and Zaeed Massani. Ideas? Suggestions? Thought? Continue (Y/N)? Can't wait to here from some of you guys :)