A/N. All characters locations, etc. that aren't my own belong to Bioware. Norra Real high school belongs to the Stockholm municipality.

I do not own the universe of Mass Effect in any way. Please do not sue me, oh thee wondrous gods at Bioware. Please :(.

Anyway, check it out or I'll send my estonian mafia connections to you. They know where you live!

Finding it shouldn't be too difficult finding it considering that it's his only fanfic. And by him, I'm referring to iNf3ctioNZ.

Basically, this is a self insert fanfic.

Do not distress if the Story picks up pace dramatically in the 3rd Chapter, and is abit slow up until that point.

Start reading my story. Now.

Please review.

JUST WALK THROUGH THE DOORS

I: No trains stop at Fridhemsplan

9th September 2185, A day After the Cerberus Investigation into the attack on Freedom's Progress: UNKONWN CERBERUS FACILITY - 13:37 PM

"An nescis, mi fili, quantilla prudentia mundus regatur ".

He recited the words aloud, and pressed the cigarette he held between his fingertipsdown down into the ash tray. The man obsessively lighted another one, the blue and red light of the star behind him illuminating his pale hands as he did. His eyes were glowing with the same light blue, inhuman intensity, complementing the glow of the stellar backdrop.

To a superstitious man I must look like some kind of specter. A deamon of the undead.

"Count Axel Oxenstierna, one of the most important figures during the Thirty Years' War. Swedish Lord High Chancellor under the King Gustavus Adolphus."

Speaking of spectres, the man thought dryly. Snorting a little at his own poor joke.

"Do you not know, my son, with how little wisdom the world is governed?" The first man concurred, nodding and nonchalantly moved a cigarette to his lips. A moment passed, the man taking a blow on his cigarette.

"I see you know your 17th century European history Commander." A slight, calculated pause – for the drama no doubt. "Words to live by, no?"

"Using historical quotes to describe your motives is more than a little redundant, as well as pointless – especially since I've already decided to cooperate with you."

The newly lit cigarette was brutally crushed against the ashtray. Not so lit anymore. A cruel smile.

I brought you back for the frontline work. Stick to it . A smile on the ghostly figure's lips.

A long, dramatic pause. The man in the chair evidently housed quite a fondness for them. He reclined in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left one.

Then he began to speak.

"Shepard, I have a new Dossier for you...".

8th September 2010: EARTH, EUROPEAN UNION, SWEDEN, STOCKHOLM, NORRA REAL HIGH SCHOOL - 13:37 PM

"So how did the test go man?" Frans asked me as we walked away from the class where we'd both been taking our "English A" course exams. The sun is setting, it must be over 5 PM.

"Better than for you." I answered, half smiling. If I score anything under 95% of this, I'll be monstruously dissapointed in myself. It was a god damn walk in the park.

He cracked one of his corny, albeit incredibly warm laughs at that.

"Haha, no way man. You know I'm the King. By definition."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed?".

"Deep down, you know it's true. You all do!"

He's starting to almost rant, using that lunatic "I'm the only sane one left!" tone. For a split second there I can't seem to be 100% sure that he's kidding.

I just give him one of my trademark half smiles as an answer.

Frans almost looks dissapointed at this, his eyes turning to the floor slightly, seemingly sad that I choose to terminate our amusing trade of meaningless phrases.

We roam the deserted halls of Norra Real high school, the light brown marble columns and large, empty, almost palatial halls having a slightly gloomy, creepy feeling to them. The warm orange light from the setting sun outside negates the creepiness somewat though, as it illuminates the interior. Our footsteps echo in the halls. Hmm, turns out school isn't so desterted after all - I hear another pair of feet running towards us, out of sync with mine and Frans' walk. It's the teacher responsible for the chess club who of course says good bye to us in English (as always) for no particular reason. What is it with the abundance of wannabe British swedes anyway? Seriously? Sure, everybody loves Monthy Python, and James Bond probably constitutes the epitome of male kickassness but... please. Stop raping your own nationality for pie's sake! For a moment I consider whether I should turn around and yell "impostor!" after him... as I heard him speak swedish to one of the other teachers in the corridor this morning. I always thought something was wrong with that accent of his...

We reach the stairway leading down from the second floor and proceed down, towards the entrance. Before we reach the first floor though, something very unexpected happens. I hear thunder.. I move up the stairway again to the nearest window, situated in between the first and second floors.

I look out. A flash of purple lightning. The skies have turned gray. I hear the tapping of raindrops starting to... tap against the roof and windows. Allright, this is all becoming rather eerie...

"Frans?" I call out.

No response.

"Frans?"

I look around, and it seems as if he's mysteriously vanished from the face of the earth.

He must be playing a prank on me... That sneaky bastard is probably secretely laughing his arse off, waiting to drop out from behind one of the many benches down in the entry hall screaming "Gaaa-harggg" or some other similarily creative phrase.

I hate that prick right now, he knows I'm more easily scared than a five year old girl scout. Okay, so maybe that analogy didn't make much sense. Well it doesn't have to, this whole thing is freaking me out!

"Frans, come out right now or I'll... do something!" I yell, quite pathetically.

Still no response.

That's it, I'm going home – to be incredibly cliché, I didn't sign up for this shit.

"Ey, man, I'm leaving you on your own here, see you tomorrow."

This is seriosuly weird. I'd never admit it, but I'm scared to... well, really, really frightened.

I start to walk out from the school "atrium" if you will. Before I exit the main entrance though, I turn around for one last time. The school's quasi symbol, a pair of horses is standing there, the pale fake marble statues seem to be almost glowing. Wait...

Are one of the horses are looking at me? It's eye seems fixed on my person. Oh my god.

"Yeah, what are you looking at?" I stutter, nervously. Talking to a statue, way to go Alex. No, correction– getting scared while talking to a statue. Even better. Bloody brilliant.

I really need to go home, Frans can burn in hell for all I care – a second longer in here, and he won't be the only thing vanishing... (he'll be joined by my sanity... wherever he went).

I shake my head and walk down the final set of stairs from the atrium to the front doors. "You really need to chill out Alex..." I tell myself as I open the door, seeing the dark, rainy world outside I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. It's good to be out of there. Even if I'm changing one weird environment that's not how it's supposed to be for another, at least I'm not trapped here.

How could it start raining in the first place? I'm as certain of there being clear skies only five minutes ago as I am of... something I'm very certain of.

Coming up with good analogies when you're scared is rather difficult.

Now it's just a couple of minutes walk to the metro station. The steady, no, thunderous fall of raindrops on the street is all around me, as if punishing the world for our sins.

As I walk the streets, I notice that they are completely deserted.

"Keep yourself together Alex, it's late, it's raining, you only slept four hours." I tell myself aloud. So, now we're talking to ourselves. Again.

Gee, man what a clear sign of splendid mental health! Hmm, is that a step up or down from the statues though, I wonder fleetingly...

I finally arrive at the metro station, and see the dark blue "T" sign plastered on a white lamp, for Tunnelbana.

I walk down the completely deserted subway entrance, through the typical, yellow tiled subterranean metro tunnel leading to the turnstiles, which in turn lead down to the platform.

There's a distinct lack of people around me.

Allright, something is definitely weird... this place is never abandoned. Not even at midnight. Especially not at midnight...

I take up my wallet, flash my access card towards the turnstile sensor thingy... there. It beeps, and dutifully opens itself to allow me passage through. I take the stairs down to the platform.

Where are all the people? It's only 5:o clock?

Finally!

There's one guy sitting on a bench, rougly in the middle of the platform...alone. I'm not really sure if being alone with him here is more or less scary than being ...completely alone. Be careful what you wish for... sigh.

Wait! I look at the man.

No... it can't be. I walk over to him. I must be seeing things, this just can't be true.

"You really need to sleep more Alex..." I mentally slap myself for speaking outloud, having alerted the stranger to my prescence. He stand up, slowly, and mysteriously looks at me.

I must be dreaming.

My eyes tell me that a turian, in full blue turian ceremonial attire, similar to what the Turian Councillor wears in Mass Effect is standing right infront of me.

But that can't be right. No. It can't be. I blink two times.

The turian is gone.

To say that I am relieved would be the understatement of the century.

Duly noted, playing Lair of the Shadow Broker until 3 in the morning can potentially make Alexander **** see turians. Heh, I ought to do that more often...

I crack a dry smile at my own joke. After I blinked, it seems like people are appearing out of nowhere. Suddenly, the metro platform is hustling and bustling with life. I even see a couple of guys from my french class there.

I wave and say hello. If I'd been relieved at the myserious turian dissapearing, that is nothing compared to what I feel now.

After not too long, my train arrives. I board it.

Thank god! There are actually people on it, real people. I smile, looking almost as if I've seen god.

I'm not crazy! Hooah!

I take a seat close to one of the windows, looking out, seeing the platform speed by in a blur as the train picks up speed and moves away from Rådmansgatan. Home.

It would have been kinda cool if it'd have been real though...

I start to childishly dream about what it'd have been like talking to a real turian... Then my thoughts drift of from there to how I could be with Shepard stopping the Reapers, about all the things I could help the galaxy with with... an asari girlfirend... Miranda Lawsons most well shaped backside...

I loose myself in thought for the next two stops.

When the train arrives at the third stop from Rådmansgatan though, I turn my head up from my previous postion of "thoughtfulness" (e.g. looking down in my lap) and look out the window.

"You are arriving at Fridhemsplan." The annoying speaker voice informs me in swedish and english.

There's that accent again! That annoying almost british swedish accent! I think I've finally got a name for it! Bredish. Hah.

"Final stop.".

Wait.

No.

No way. Something is seriously out of place. I am 100 percent certain that, during all of my nine years of using the metro to travel back and forth from school every day, I've never, ever been on a train that stopped at Fridhemsplan. They just don't. It's situated right on the middle of the bloody green metro line, why should it be a final stop? For a split second I consider that it might be connected with the turian I saw earlier, but quickly dismiss it as impossible. I was wrong after all.

Wasn't I?

I look out the window.

Yup, definitely Fridhemsplan, no aliens, space stations or cool futuristic environments.

The train stops. I walk up to the doors. They open.

I must be dreaming.

Again.

I look back into the train. All the people are gone.

Just walk through the doors Alex. Come on. Blink. Walk through the doors. You're at Fridhemsplan.

I groggily walk out the through doors onto what should be the platform, but the whole visual intake is too much for my poor mind to handle.

What greets me is the sight of a metal walkway, surrounded by buildings seemingly suspended in midair. The entire milieu is made out of gray, utilitarian metal... not very creative. I see flashing lights of all colours around me. People. Non human forms.

I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. It won't go away! Why the hell won't it go away! Go away dammit!

My head spins. My vision starts to blur. I fall, and my skull hits the hard metal ground with an audible thud.

It's becoming darker... I can barely tell shapes from each other now...

With my limited vision I see what I think is a batarian looming over me. Is he laughing? Bastard.

As the darkness takes me, my last thoughts are that I was right after all.

No trains stop at Fridhemsplan.