Author's Note/Disclaimer etc:
Characters owned by Bioware, Ubisoft, Bethesda, Volition Inc, Valve, and others I'm sure...
Nor do I own the idea, that was totally PlayStation's brainchild. For Michael!:)
Victory felt good.
No, not good. Amazing. Positively amazing. Shepard was as ecstatic as a human could ever get. The Collector base had been blown into tiny space chunks, every single one of her shipmates was still in one piece, and she'd personally delivered a smack down to The Illusive Man, Shepard style. God, life was good. Whoops and cheers rang through her ship, and in a few short hours they would dock and the booze would flow freer than water on Kahji.
Joker handed her a data pad with schematics of everything they knew about Reapers. She shot him an exhausted smile and started to hand it back. "I think we're allowed to forget this and party for just one night," the words only half made it out of her mouth before a list of names appeared on the data pad. A really long list of names, all written in English – and that wasn't the work of her translator. It was odd though, like the list didn't originally belong there. Shepard looked back up at her pilot hoping this was some sort of weird practical joke he and EDI might be playing on her, but the list followed her eyes. "What the -" …
Her hands, Joker's face, the walls of the ship, they were all covered in a growing list of names. It almost felt like those Prothian visions she kept having all that time ago. "Commander?" There was obvious worry in his voice. "Commander!". Sudden, searing, blinding pain swept in to her eyes, needles pierces her skull and she toppled over into Miranda who had been perusing the data pad over her shoulder. "Get the Commander to medbay! Someone alert Chakwas!" Absolute confusion. Feet pounding everywhere, but all Shepard could see, all she could focus on was the never ending list of hundreds and hundreds of faceless names.
.
..
...
..
.
"Shhh, shh, shh, bella mio, it's ok, we've got you." The dark in front of her eyes started to subside as Shepard awoke. "You're safe now." Little by little the feeling of absolute void and nothingness that had gripped her faded. Only once before had she experienced anything like that emptiness...and that time she'd died. "Try to relax, you've come a long way." A number of arms were cradling her sore head and body. All she knew was that she was still on the floor, and the names were still fresh in her memory.
Shepard tried hard to focus. "Where...? What...?" was all she managed to force past her lips before the same voice as before hushed her again. "We'll explain, I promise." She had no idea where his accent was from, but she liked it almost immediately. "There were names...so many names." She tried to grasp at them, but they'd started to fade as she came to. "So many names..."
"Don't worry about them," he hushed. "Right now, you need to relax and adjust. The first time is always the hardest."
A woman's voice to her right spoke softly next. "Here, Shepard, this should help." The world was suddenly engulfed in a blue glow and all of the pain fled as if afraid of the color. Her eyes could at least now try to focus, and they reveled a very humanoid alien with incredibly sharp facial features and long pointed ears. She had blonde hair, kind green eyes, and hands that fixed problems better than Chakwas.
"God, that's good," Shepard finally managed to say. "Better than medi-gel." The general chuckle indicated a rather large crowd that had gathered around her. "What is that stuff?"
The alien smiled. "Magic."
If her sinuses weren't currently numb Shepard would have cocked an eyebrow at her savior. "Yeah, it sure is."
"You'll learn soon" was all the reply the alien would offer.
No clue how long she laid there on that floor, but everyone seemed patient and Shepard sunk willingly in to the blue glow between the woman's hands. It could have been five minutes or five hours before they asked her if she could try and sit up. The task proved easy with all of the helping hands around her. The man with the accent practically swept her up himself and sat her in a nearby chair. He was wearing white.
For the first time, the Spectre was able to take in her surroundings. The whole room was warmly lit and made of a light tan stone. Huge gauzy linens of every color hung from the ceiling along walls and over windows that let in the light from a brilliant sun. It looked like a room out of old biblical stories from the deserts of Earth's middle east. Tables spread throughout the room filled with fruits, pastries, meats, and drink. A huge viewscreen hung on one wall, it was currently showing a vista of the Citadel. On the opposite wall was a painting of her.
Shepard must have jumped when her eyes came to that portrait. She knew that face so well. It was in her dreams every night. She'd see it in battle, when she was before the council, even when she was probing planets for ores. But it was always just a fleeting glimpse, a figment of her overactive, overparanoid imagination. Right?
Some of her new acquaintances shared knowing glances before trying to redirect the attention of their newest arrival. A woman addressed her first. "Introductions first!" she declared, brushing wispy blonde hair away from very businesslike emerald eyes. She wore a dirty, beat up business suit in a centuries old Earth style. Actually, the suit looked like it could be just as old as the style itself.
"Right," Shepard replied, snapping somewhat back to her normal self now that there weren't knives trying to impale her skull. "I'm Commander Arsinoe Shepard, who are all of you and where the hell am I?"
The business woman extended a hand. "My name's Arsinoe too, but people here just call me 'Wanderer' to avoid confusion. Just as we'll call you 'Shepard' if you don't mind too much." Shepard took the hand a little surprised, she'd never met anyone else with the same name before. It was rather unique, even among other Earthlings now adays. She'd always loved her name, mostly for that reason.
"The elf next to you with those magic hands is Arsinoe too, but she's 'Champion' to us." Shepard turned to who she'd thought was an alien. This had to be some sort of odd lucid dream, she remembered fainting on the Normandy's deck after all. Elves were from old Earth stories, no way were they real. And no way were there two other Arsinoes in the universe, both who just so happened to have blonde hair and green eyes like hers.
"Champion, eh?"
"Yes," the elf answered politely. "I was named Champion of my home province of Cyrodiil after our Lady guided me through the Great Oblivion Crisis that nearly destroyed my world.
Shepard shook the elf's hand laughing to herself at such a fanciful story and turned toward the man in white.
"You named Arsinoe too?" She asked amused.
He smiled a measured smirk. "I'm afraid I do not have that honor," he answered smoothly. "Ezio Auditore di Firenze, master Assassin at your humble service."
"Shame," Shepard answered. "I'd love to share my name with such a pretty man." If this was a dream, she was going to enjoy it before having to wake back up and face the Reapers again. He seemed almost charmed.
"Who else here is Arsinoe?" Shepard called to the crowd and started laughing when at least 3 /4 of the room raised their hands. Most of them had blonde hair and green eyes. If her imagination was one thing, it was damned egotistic. A table of three more elves was nearby – one smaller and colored like the woman sitting next to her. The other two were of a deeper, much duller blue than an asari, both with eyes that glowed red like lava, and both had raised their hands. That must be her ego telling her not to go punching any more reporters or she'd end up looking like that. Shepard directed a question at the last elf who hadn't claimed to be named 'Arsinoe'. "And why aren't you named like your sisters here?".
The woman sighed somewhat and one of her blue neighbors spoke up instead. "Berenice here was an afterthought of our Lady, like myself." Not that there was any bitterness in her voice at all. "We did the dirty work our goodie companions couldn't...but we don't have any regrets!" Champion rolled her eyes, the first indication that there was any real person behind her veil of niceness. The other blue elf called back across the room to Shepard. "Don't pay attention to Listener and Berenice, Shepard! They're just jealous that our Lady didn't grant them as good and happy a life story as she did Champion and I." The three turned back inwards and started conferring again, obviously not wanting to be disturbed. They seemed to be the only people in the room not paying any attention to Shepard.
"That's Arsinoe Nereverine," Wanderer said. "And the elves are all just distracted right now because our Lady has given them a new sister – Arsinoe Dovahkiin. They are waiting rather impatiently to see how and when she'll join us as you just have."
"Actually, we were all very surprised that you came to us first," interrupted Champion "given all of the attention that Dovahkiin has gotten from our Lady recently...". A piercing look from Ezio quieted her and they went back to introductions.
Shepard went on to meet a great number more of her namesakes, including a CIA operative who apparently owned a bunch of islands in the Caribbean, a Queen of an old Earth empire (who wouldn't be called anything less than 'Pharoah Arsinoe Neferbastet XXIV'), an incredibly disgruntled gang leader whose blonde hair was mussed up in to long dreadlocks, a warrior whose hair was almost as gray as her nickname ('Warden'), and some magic using princess they all referred to as 'Albion'. A woman named 'Arsinoe Courier' was also seated at a table nearby but Shepard hadn't even noticed her. When her name was announced to the newcomer, the woman didn't bother to make a move. "She only joined us last week," Wanderer explained. "She's from my world...kind of. And is having a bit of a hard time adjusting here."
Besides all of the other Arsinoes, Shepard got to shake hands with a huge muscle of a man named 'Duke', a scientist called 'Freeman', and an incredibly twitchy woman named 'Chell' who was barely able to put down the large steel cube that she'd been clutching long enough to say hello. Wanderer dismissed most of them and indicated that the group should take seats, asking for someone to go fetch 'the Jedi', whoever that was. Champion patted Shepard on the shoulder and excused herself back to the table with the other elves. "If you need me..." she started, but Wanderer cut her off with a wave. Champion shot a last smile to the Spectre and floated away happily.
The dream was getting to be a tad long at this point. Weren't lucid dreams supposed to be filled with action or excitement? She should be able to dream up Reapers of marshmallow or something and make Citadel sized s'mores with them...but this was all just meet and greet with her own ego. And quite frankly after the high of victory that she'd had so soon before, she was not in a mood to be nice and diplomatic. Why couldn't her imagination be a bit more exciting?
"So." Wanderer started simply. "I know what you're thinking and let me reassure you that we all were once where you are now." Shepard gave a cocky smile. Of course she knew what her own brain was thinking. Wanderer continued. "You know this isn't a dream, my dear." Those emerald eyes focused in trying to bore their way in to Shepard spirit. "Like all of us, you just completed a task that was set before you – something absolutely impossible, but somehow you did it. You won. And at the height of your victory, you blacked out and ended up here."
Shepard reached for a glass of water that was nearby and a bowl of grapes. It had been so long since she'd had grapes, they were truly a fantasy come true. "That's about it." She said, leaning back in her chair and savoring the fruit before she had to wake up to Sgt. Gardner's cooking.
"You do realize that you've been here before, right?". Shepard paused in her crewing. "But our Lady reloaded you so quickly that you never fully made the journey."
It...did seem familiar, but only in the way dreams always do. Her eyes came to rest on the portrait.
"I know that woman," Shepard stated. "Somehow...she's in all of my dreams, even in some of my waking moments." As she stared at the face on the wall, it became more and more vivid. She knew how it moved when happy, when frustrated. She could almost hear a voice coming from it. The grapes landed with a small thud back on to their plate. "Who is she?" Surely a dream ego-being could explain another dream person.
A hand came to rest on Wanderer's shoulder as two new women joined the table. There were certainly a lack of men in Shepard's imagination, but at least only one of these newcomers had the blonde hair and green eyes. The other was a much darker complexion with short cropped black locks and almost a purple hue to her skin. The hand belonged to the latter. "Shepard, it is so good to finally meet you. I'm Revan, and this is Arsinoe Exile." They both extended hands in greeting. Wanderer explained to Shepard that these two were the oldest of this place's inhabitants along with a Chinese Scholar named Ling who was apparently off visiting 'the NPCs' right now and couldn't come to the greeting. Champion and Wanderer had come very soon after them.
"She," said Revan motioning towards the portrait while taking a seat next to Wanderer, "is why we are all here, and why we were all able to do every amazing thing that we have done in our lives." Dear God in Heaven, this must be some sort of repressed religious side of her brain that never got to talk enough with Ashley, isn't it? "She is the face of our destiny, the mover of our fates, and the observer of our actions. Whatever you have done in your life, you owe to Jediravenclaw."
Shepard had pretty much heard enough already. She was going to start on a massively snarky comeback that anyone who lectured her on religion and "fate" was deserving of, when she felt a firm hand on her arm. Ezio tried to calm her. "Please Shepard, believe me when I say that I am one of the last people here to abide by any sort of religion." Shepard shot him a warning look as he continued "But there is truth to what they say. Besides, you just have to be patient with the Jedi. They are, unfortunately, monks and they have a rather religious way of putting everything."
"I think I'd rather hear the story from this scholar then," Shepard shot.
The Exile laughed somewhat. "No you don't, she's worse than us sometimes."
Revan reproached her comrade with a look and continued. "Nevertheless, that woman very literally controls your every move whenever you are anywhere that is not this place. Home. On your ship. In your capital. Have you ever said anything you didn't think about? Ever picked a fight you don't know why you picked? Ever missed a shot you KNOW you should have been able to make? Or made a shot you would never have thought possible? It was all her. She was your hands, your feet. She held your gun, not you."
Wanderer chimed in before Shepard could complain again of too much fate and religion talk. "I know it sounds off, but this is reality. This room here is your first glimpse of real life. You've been living a story, Shepard, and there's no easy way to explain or digest that."
"Not only a story," Revan continued, "but you are the vessel through which ishe/i is told your story."
Shepard's head was spinning with this mind game that her dream was playing on herself. How incredibly fucked up was this explanation of that ghostly face in her dreams and visions? But before she could say anything one of the darker elves spoke up across the room. "Uh oh, careful! She's watching trailers again!"
Horns blasted through the room. "Figlio di -" . . . Shepard turned left to look to Ezio for explanation, but he was gone. At least, he wasn't next to her anymore. Everyone's gaze was to the giant viewscreen on the wall where the sound had come from. He was there, in the screen! Shepard watched in horror as the screen showed him being shot with an arrow, then fighting an entire army of men with spears and swords. She watched as he was captured, brought before a leader, and almost hung from a tower. The screen went black.
He reappeared in the corner of the room, right where Shepard had woken up.
"Puttana del cazzo! How many times must I be shot and almost hung before you show me my destiny!" Ezio ripped a rouge arrow from his armor and threw it at the wall next to the portrait.
The Arsinoe with long dreadlocks that Shepard had briefly been introduced to as "Saints" spoke up somewhat mockingly. "Good freaking question...why don't you ask the ELVES?"
"Don't play smug with me, Saints! We all know that you're higher on her priority list than I am..."
"Ha! Not as high as her precious Dovahkiin." She shot a nasty look at the table in question. "At this rate, SHEPARD will have her ending before either of us." The elves looked about ready to take them both on when the Jedi and Wanderer stood up to intervene.
"You will have your destiny when it is your time. All of you will."
This was now officially way out of the 'weird dream' ballpark and Shepard was ready to wake up any time now. The Jedi looked poised to intervene in what might become a physical fight when a gruff voice boomed throughout the room.
"Shepard warned us that they were coming."
Everyone stopped in an instant and looked at where their newest companion sat. She stayed completely transfixed.
"But we didn't listen."
Images of Reapers appeared on screen, plummeting through Earth's atmosphere attacking every major city. A sniper had taken refuge in Big Ben in London, he was the one talking.
"Now the fate of our world – of every world – rests in his hands."
...His?
A man appeared on screen in her armor, omni tool shining brightly in his hand. He was fighting mechs, shooting giant cannons at Reapers, and destroying husks with biotics alongside Garrus and Liara. "We need a plan to stop them!" someone offscreen said. A man's voice answered confidently "We fight or we die, THAT'S the plan." The scene ended with him, staring them all down in the room with the words "Mass Effect 3" under him. "3-6-12".
Everybody was quiet. "I know him," Shepard whispered. Ezio placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "That...that's John." She didn't know how or why she knew anyone named John who looked like that guy did, but she did. She knew exactly who that was. It was John. John Shepard. What on Earth was happening to her?
The Assassin pulled her in to a supporting embrace. "Sshhhhh, bella mio, shhhhh. It's ok." The Jedi Exile and Wanderer helped sit her back down at the table and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. Even Saints had gone off to fetch Shepard something a tad stronger than water.
"Rest now" she was instructed. "You don't have to take it all in at once, but know that we've watched you your entire journey. We know your story... and we have been where you are. It gets easier with time."
Shepard felt dulled, almost betrayed. "The list of names..."
The Jedi Revan answered softly "Those were the credits, my dear. Names of everyone who helped to write your life's story. That chapter was completed."
A single loud drum filled the room as the screen again went black. Three more drums. The elves had all jumped at that and were fully engrossed in the screen even before the silver diamond shaped medallion appeared on it. Voices of many men started chanting.
"Come," cooed the Jedi Exile. "Watch Dovahkiin's story with us. It will give you an idea of what all of our existence really is."
Shepard acquiesced. Some part of her still prayed that this was a dream, but after everything she wasn't so sure anymore. That face. Jediravenclaw. With long blonde hair and green eyes. So much now made sense.