He takes a breath.
It's short and full of pain, but it gives him whatever oxygen has been converted. Most of his life has been spent in pain, so this breath doesn't particularly bother him. This pain induces coughing most of the time. It is a chesty, throaty cough that racks the entire body, wearing him out. He is lucky that this breath does not have the coughing fit that comes after.
He believes this is his body's revenge for the change in climate. From the hot, dry and arid lands of his home to the cool, humid and moist lands of the Hanar and beyond. His body has rejected the new, deciding to kill him.
Slowly.
Fast enough to bring his death but slow enough to find another.
A Siha.
She came into his life like no other. She filled pleasure in the place of pain. He did not believe he could find another, even after his last one left the world so horribly. This was his second chance, the chance he did not deserve, but she was here and she was going to stay.
Loving him.
But he was dying and he didn't deserve to put her through that, but she believed. She believed so much she sought for it and when she couldn't find it, she made it.
A cure.
His beloved Siha had made a cure, tears were shed and thankyous said. The thought that they could at long last live in peace.
The reapers were gone, civilisations no longer fighting and the galaxy was safe.
All is peaceful. All is serene, beautiful and bright. The colour had bled back into the world and the future was no longer dark. He could finally relax. He could finally rest after fighting for so long.
He takes a breath.