This universe leaves no time to sit and think. Every action, every thing I do is weighed: will this tip the scale?
That's the question every decision pleads, and as if this did not bestow enough upon my conscience, the world wishes to erect a flag after the war is finished.
If the war finishes.
Humans, Asaris, Turians, Volus, every species in the galaxy is a blight upon the Reaper's empire - upon their universe. We are all small, insignificant orbs of flames, our mesmerising dance attracting one another, but all flames eventually turn to dust and ash, and the Reapers are more than happy to speed up the process, but instead of leaving the blemishes that we (whether knowingly or unknowingly) create, they instead obliterate and level the planets on which we were raised and the cities that we built over many lifetimes.
Sometimes I wonder whether I could have raised my own sprites upon Earth's planet-side. What would have happened had I held life within my own womb, nurturing an infant with my own body. Would I have found my partner, or stopped Saren?
Would I have been able to help save the world?
And yet, I know that pondering - wondering - about what could have happened will never help forget the soul-shattering regret that I feel whenever I look in the mirror. Ashley was dead, Legion... Is gone, and my beloved was lost to his illness. Yet, here I am.
I have died once only to be brought back though Cerberus' invasive procedures. If not for my mission, I would have died after my partner had. After he had forgiven my sins in his last, dying breaths.
If not for my extensive social inadequacies, maybe I could have saved his son from the gut wrenching grief that makes the heart shudder in doubt. Maybe I could have helped curb his pain, as his father did mine. Through love and acceptance; I was his step-mother afterall.
But none of this matters now. The end for our war nears.
I cannot help but think that I should have died. And now, as I look at this small child - the Catalyst - I realise the pity filled look that he gives me. This child, despite his appearance of young age, knew how much I wanted to die. He could feel the shattering pain that not only filled my physical body, but filled every cavity that my soul possesses.
He knew that as he gave me three choices that I would choose the one that would cause both me and the Earth the least pain: destruction.
My death was inevitable. The Reapers would be gone and I would be gone.
That was a nice thought.
If I chose the destruction I could destroy myself and those that caused such distress to my closest allies; I could destroy the beings that Thane spent his last years trying to demolish.
Everything would be fine in this ending. And to reach this, only a few dozen painful steps would have to be taken.
Only a few dozen until I see can the man who once called me Siha once again.