We Will Find A Way
The 'destroy' ending for Elrika Shepard, assuming the 'indoctrination' theory is correct.
There are bound to be mistakes. I've written it in just under three hours to KILL THIS FUCKING PLOTBUNNY so I can get back to work on my thesis.
~}_.*._{~
Ships disintegrated in the vastness of space, people left to die despairing in the empty blackness. The Reapers dominated without question, sheer technological supremacy allowing them to slaughter everything in their path. It was not a fight, not a battle or a war, it was merely a final act of defiance of a dying civilisation that struggled in futility to cling to the life they had every right to keep living. It was an echoing cry of despair that reverberated in silence around the Citadel and rang inside her head, saying one thing and one thing only.
We have lost.
In the eye of this maelstrom, a single organic stood balanced on the precipice of destruction and salvation, with the entire weight of the galaxy pressing down on her shoulders, and part of her was damn sure that this was still some sick fucking joke.
Commander Elrika Shepard was born a nobody on Earth, a gutter brat that stole and killed to survive. Eventually she was caught, or rather she sold herself out, and traded a prison sentence for life on the frontlines. She became an unlikely hero at Elysium, standing alone, saving thousands of people from thousands of pirates. All she had in those agonising hours was the memory of the people she had failed to save on Earth. She ascended through the ranks at an unprecedented level, only prejudice about her origins keeping her from hitting top brass. Her lack of any formal education had not hindered her tactical brilliance and charismatic leadership. The commonfolk saw her as a saviour, and the higher ups saw her as loose cannon, uncontrollable and unpredictable. She was hated and loved. Her name was venerated and cursed.
She was everything.
She was nothing.
Another turn of events, a different side of the coin, a better placed knife or bullet, and she would have bled to death on Earth so many years ago on the day she decided to change her life. So many years ago, if one thing went wrong, or unfolded differently, she never would have joined the military, or become a Spectre… Or be there, in that moment, the saviour of the galaxy.
It was the most bitter pill she had ever swallowed.
It was not a responsibility she deserved, nor was it one she wanted. Not now. Not ever. In this war, she had thought she would merely fight as a soldier, standing on the dirty ground, bleeding out with the ones she loved as they fought shoulder to shoulder for the future they all deserved. She had thought herself an equal to everyone else that was fighting and dying. She was not a messiah. She wasn't a god. She did not want this. This ultimate decision, the fate of all resting on her. It wasn't goddamn fair.
It wasn't right.
She had no right to choose for anyone else… and they had every right to choose for themselves.
"You must choose. I will not."
The thoughts that Elrika had been grasping slipped through her mental fingers and she scowled, touching her brow. The pain sapped her strength, dragged her down, and she found it hard to think. Blinking, she looked down at the holographic form of the child at her side. Then her eyes darted back to the choices before her.
Control. Destroy. Synthesise.
Her eyes slipped away from the level that would lead her to destroy the synthetics of the galaxy. It would destroy the technology they relied on, too. It was an unacceptable option.
I'm sorry, Anderson… I can't. She felt sick at the thought of his death being for nothing, but she knew better, now. Destroying the Reapers couldn't happen. The cost was too high. She had to compromise. She had to take the hope that was given to her.
But the Relays… If they lost the Relays…
No. The thought floated to the surface. No choice. I have to make sacrifices. I have to do this. For the galaxy. This is the choice I have to make.
Her eyes moved to the control option, but the knowledge that she would become a Reaper, or become the one who controlled the Reapers, made her feel worse, like something rotten had wrapped itself around her heart. Even though she knew it was the best possible option, she knew the Reapers would still exist. They would still be alive and could still come back and a crippled galactic society would be merciless before them. If they ever broke free of her hold… it would be over. She knew she could control them now, even if the Illusive Man couldn't. He had been indoctrinated. Elrika wasn't.
Then she looked toward the beam of light that would absorb her energy, deconstruct her body, and save all organic and synthetic life in the galaxy, she knew something felt… wrong. Off. Distasteful. But she couldn't put her finger on it. Like milk that was on the verge of being stale. Which was strange because she hadn't had a glass of proper milk in almost ten years…
She liked her coffee black, double strength and unsweetened…
Garrus always said that she might as well just drink pure drive core discharge.
Garrus. His face surfaced in her mind and she smiled, her heart slamming into her chest as she realised she was never going to see him again. She was going to die here, one way or another. A shuddering gasp escaped her as tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
I'll meet you at the bar, she thought, clutching her chest with her bloody hand. First round's on me… She glanced up, wanting to talk to God, to tell Him to let Garrus into the human heaven or she'd put a bullet between His cosmic eyes… But froze when she saw Earth. So beautiful and bright, but dotted with fires and covered in ruins. It was a visceral jolt to Shepard. Like she was watching the mother she never knew burning alive. The thoughts of Garrus slipped away as she stared at Earth and clenched her fist around her gun. The familiar weight reassured her and drew her back to the present.
Elrika couldn't let herself think of any of that. She couldn't let herself think about what she was leaving behind. Think about what she was fighting for. Earth. The galaxy… Her own life in exchange for the galaxy? She could pay that. It was more than she was worth, but she could pay that.
But her life in exchange for Garrus'? The only man to consistently believe in her? The only man who, from the moment she had met him, had been at her side, at her back, watching over her, fighting beside her? Her best friend. Her lover. Someone who made her feel like she was worth something. That she deserved to be happy.
She could die for him.
Would die for him.
She was just… just so sorry that she couldn't live with him… Just to be happy and have a future for herself, for once…
"Commander…"
"Yeah…" Elrika Shepard looked at the central beam, the power that would unify organic and machine, and took a step forward.
I'm sorry I'm asking you to live through my death again, Garrus, she thought, blinking back tears of anguish. I'm sorry I made you promise to keep living… But I need… I need this to be worth something to me. And you're it.
Elrika clutched her side as she moved forward, feeling the blood pour, faster, knowing she didn't have much time left. She locked her jaw, focusing on the beam. On her goal. On the only chance any of them had, synthetic or organic, to continue living tomorrow. Her only hope.
Shepard….
Elrika's eyes widened at the voice, a quiet whisper that shivered down her spine and caused her steps to falter. A voice so familiar and so clear that, even though she had not heard it for more than a year, it felt like it had been said right next to her. Then she shook her head and continued to move forward, feeling the pain ebb away, the fatigue. Strength returned to her. She felt like she could break into a-
Shepard!
Elrika came to a sharp stop, knowing that there was no mistaking the voice now. She clutched her gun tighter and looked around sharply, as if the turian that had spoken might somehow, impossible, be alive and there with her.
"… Saren?"
But there was nothing. No Spectre, no fallen hero, no misguided saviour. Elrika took a step backwards, toward the beam, confused. How… Then she shook her head and turned.
Saren grabbed her throat and hauled her into the air, choking her. Water rushed in her ears as his mandibles flared and he glared up at her, hatred seething in his glowing eyes.
"SHEPARD!"
Elrika crashed to the ground, coughing and choking, her entire body wracked with agony. Her gun snapped up, but she was facing only empty air between herself and the beam. Frantically she turned, trying to find Saren, but the Spectre was nowhere to be seen. Gone.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered, arm shaking. Confusion fluttered to the surface of her mind like a butterfly caught in a hurricane, fighting against the winds that threatened to tear its fragile wings from its body. She tried to dismiss the insect, tried to focus on the beam, on her hope.
And then something cold settled in her gut and the air rushed out of her lungs.
The Reapers.
The Reapers were trying to stop her. Trying to force her to doubt her own mind. Elrika gasped and clawed her way back to her feet, determined not to give the Reapers time to stop her. Now now. Not when so much is at stake. Now when hope was right there! But it felt like she was wading through deep water. Something was holding her back.
Saren's voice spoke again. You can't possibly understand what's really at stake here. But this time the words were not called over the rush of water at the cloning facility on Virmire. As with her name, they were spoken right into her ear, as if Saren was standing next to her.
Elrika skidded to a stop and whirled, gun coming up.
"I know this is a trick!" she screamed. "I know you're trying to stop me, Harbinger!"
Only the Catalyst was there, the god-child of the Reapers, staring back at her.
Elrika lowered her arm, gasping for breath. Then she turned back at the beam. It's the Reapers. Stop doubting your own mind. She couldn't hesitate. Not now. She didn't have the time. Whatever she was hearing, she had to ignore it. If the Reapers were really trying to stop her, that just meant she was doing the right thing. Synthesis. Symbiosis. Survival.
Elrika took several steps forward, gun up, waiting for Saren to strike again.
And strike he did, from the side, where she had no peripheral for some reason. Her senses never screamed as he slugged her hard, sending her sprawling to the ground, gasping with renewed pain, the gun falling from her fingers. His boot slammed into her side and ground down on her ribs, the air rushing out of her lungs.
We organics are driven by emotion instead of logic.
Elrika swiped with her arm and shoved herself up, but Saren was gone, and she could breathe again."Get the fuck out of my head!" When there was no immediate reply, Elrika searched for her gun, only to find it hadn't left her hand. Dismissing her confusion, she pushed herself to her feet and reached to grasp the iron-hard will that had defined her for so long… but found something that shouldn't be there. A wall of loss and despair that cut her off from her own strength, a dark miasma that stuck to her mind and wouldn't disperse.
But was it any surprise that she couldn't shake the depression? It was hard to hope, now, with nothing left before her. It wasn't really important, but for some reason she felt like she should know whatever it was she couldn't remember before she laid down her life for the galaxy. Why couldn't she remember it? Something that niggled away, that would be pointless after she was gone, but was so important that she recall….
Saren's voice whispered again, his flanging tones laced with desperation. We will fight even when we know we cannot win.
"That's what I'm doing," she bit out in response to his voice, raging at the spectre of the fallen turian. "That's what we're all doing! Fighting! And dying!" She thought of Garrus, on Earth, forced to live through her death again. She thought of Anderson, and choked on her own pain at his words, at how she had to betray her vow to him in this final hour. Liara, who always stood beside her, along with Tali, the young quarian who tried so hard to steer her people in the right direction, overcoming her own hatred of the geth. Legion, who had given up its very existence to its people, making the ultimate sacrifice without a second's hesitation. Miranda, who had given her life to give her sister the future she herself had never had. Thane, dying with a smile on his lips and a prayer for a woman who didn't deserve it.
Elrika didn't realise she was weeping until she touched her face, and found the blood on her hands diluted by the crystalline droplets, running down her wrists and exposing the skin beneath.
She had to stop thinking about them. She couldn't even move, paralysed with despair, but the thoughts wouldn't leave. They kept rising before her face, slamming into her like physical blows, threatening to drive her backwards, or drive her to her knees.
Mordin, who smiled in gratitude as he turned away and walked to his death to give the krogan a second chance at survival. Jack, who had found her place ensuring the atrocities that happened to her were never visited upon another biotic child. EDI and Joker, who had smashed through the boundaries of the physical, the boundaries between machine and organic, to realise what it meant to love.
All the people she loved. All the people she was fighting for. Standing behind her. Standing with her. Even Javik, an echoing howl from a dead race that demanded the destruction of the Reapers, stood beside her, the racist, bigoted jerk…
Elrika blinked and the tears disappeared just as Saren slammed his fist into her gut. Elrika choked as she clutched her middle and sank to her knees at his feet, gasping.
Do not sacrifice everything for the sake of petty freedoms.
Elrika looked up at the empty air before her. "It's not petty! We need to survive! They have to survive! The Reapers… they're here. They're going to kill us all. Let me do this!" Was she trying to convince a ghost? He had tried to hand the galaxy to the Reapers once. But she had killed him. Beaten him. She knew he was wrong. "Please let me do this! This is…"
This is my only hope.
Brilliant green eyes went wide and a short gasp filled her battered lungs. That insignificant insect, that tossed butterfly, blossomed outwards into raw colour, painting the stark grey of her mind in vivid colour.
"What…?" she whispered.
I'm not doing this for myself! … My way is the only way any of us will survive.
Saren had nearly handed the galaxy over to the Reapers. But that was because he thought that was the only way to save the galaxy. He had truly believed that it was the only way. He had truly wanted to save the galaxy. But the Reapers… the Reapers had twisted that.
Elrika opened her mouth to scream, but the words were trapped in her mind as fingers closed around her throat, choking her anew. But they weren't Saren's fingers this time. They were the cold, horrified fingers of her own realisation. Oh God. Oh God no. No. Saren is the Reapers. Saren is the Reapers voices. Harbinger is trying to control me. Trying to stop me. No. I can't be… no. NO!
The transformation from ally to servant is… subtle.
Elrika slowly began to shake her head, but she wasn't sure if it was in denial or to clear it from a haze she had not realised was clouding her thoughts. She put her hand to her face, eyes wide as she stared through her fingers. "No." She shook her head harder, this time in actual denial. "No. No no no. You are the Reapers! YOU ARE THE REAPERS!" She slammed her fist over and over into the metal floor. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
You of all people should understand what the Reapers are capable of… His words from Virmire. His decree of allegiance to the Reapers. Everything she needed to know to be able to kill him. But why was he saying it now? Why was he speaking to her now? Why was she seeing him now?
The Reapers are too powerful. The only hope of survival is to join with them. I am forming an alliance between us and the Reapers, between organics and machines.
Elrika's eyes widened as her lungs seized. Her entire body turned to ice and she was locked in place as those words bounced around her skull. Her stomach curdled as a dark, insidious thought wound its way into her mind. Slowly she lifted her head and stood up, held in place by the horrific realization that wrapped its claws around her heart and sliced it to ribbons. Slowly, as though her entire body rejected the motion, she lifted her head and looked at the beam of light before her. "… No." Tears sprang into her eyes as, even now, looking at it caused her to want to run toward it, to throw herself into it, to save the galaxy. Her entire being was convinced that it was the right course of action.
Except the voice of her enemy was telling her differently.
"Oh… God…" Elrika had never truly believed in God, but now she invoked his name without a thought, unable to process anything beyond the single, quiet thought that slowly built to a scream inside her own mind.
Think, Shepard!
Elrika clutched her head as she fought to clear her mind. What was it that she was trying to think of? The thoughts kept sliding away. No. Not sliding. They were being pulled away. Hidden from her.
There was a rush of movement in front of her and Elrika looked up with a gasp as Saren appeared from the air and drove his claws into her side. She screamed and fell onto her hands and knees… and Saren was gone as she watched blood drip to the floor in front of her. Slowly she looked down at her side, where the bullet hole was, where she was bleeding.
The Marauder shot me in the shoulder… I wasn't shot there…
Elrika's eyes darted to her right shoulder. Her right arm. Her gun arm. She looked down at the weapon she was holding firmly, not letting go. Holding a gun with bullet in your chest sucked. She knew that first hand. So how…
And why…?
She looked down at the hole in her side.
Where the Illusive Man made me shoot Anderson.
"Commander."
Elika blinked, and suddenly she was just standing in front of the Beam, like she had never been tossed by Saren, thrown, hit, choked. Like the last few minutes hadn't occurred.
Elrika lifted her head, and the colour of her mind was suddenly bathed in read. Pain splintered her head, causing her to cry out and collapse forward as clarity came back, clarity she had not even known she had lost. Elrika screamed as the questions that she hadn't even realised she had came roaring back like water rushing through a dam, filling her up with all the missing components of herself. Thing she should have noticed, things she should have questioned, but didn't. Her mind whirled and she tried desperately to keep abreast of the maelstrom of thoughts.
Saren had thought he was saving the galaxy by doing what he was doing. He had truly believed it was the only way. The Illusive Man had believed the same, believed that the only way to secure human supremacy – and survival – was to control something no human in their right mind would believe they could control.
What made her think she was any different? Or any better? Where had she gone? Where had her resolve gone? Elrika had always known that destroying the Reapers was the only option. That more people would die than they would save. She had always known this. And she had always refused to accept any help from the Reapers. She had never accepted the base. She had not accepted any knowledge. She had even been hesitant about EDI using Sovereign's technology to exist.
Now she was prepared to use it?
We will find a way was her motto.
And now… in her darkest hour of desperation, she had been handed a way. When hope was lost… she had been given something. By the enemy.
Elrika glanced over her shoulder. Why would the creator of the Reapers simply be content with letting her decide the fate of its solution? Why didn't it fight? And why had she felt no need to challenge it? Or ask questions?
She had simply accepted what it had to offer…
Elrika dug her fingers into her temple, closing her eyes tightly. "Garrus…"
"Commander…"
The Catalysts' voice snapped her back to the present, and Elrika's eyes drifted open. As a tear slid down her cheek, she stared at the beam of light before her. The representation of hope, the representation of years of struggling. Of countless eons of races adding on to the Crucible during their lifetimes, praying that, one day, someone would end the cycle.
"Why?"
Strength came from somewhere. Somewhere deep inside, unknown, bolstering her, making her stand upright. Fighting against tears, fighting against absolute despair, Elrika looked up at the image of Earth above her head. Clenching her fist tighter around her gun, she whispered again, "Why?"
"Now is not the time for questions."
Elrika shook her head, scowling. "If the Reapers built the Citadel… or if you are the Citadel and you designed the Reapers… Why did you build three devices that can destroy your creations or stop your invasion into its structure?"
There was no answer, and the lack of answer gave Elrika more strength, though the realisations tore her very soul apart. She realised that she wasn't expecting an answer. In fact, the silence was all the response she needed.
"Why does the presence of an organic change anything? Why did you abandon your plan so easily?"
"The Crucible changed my programming."
Elrika shook her head, rejecting the answer without even truly realising it. "You are a creature of order and logic. Perpetuating a cycle of chaos is not order. And destroying something to prevent it from being destroyed is not logical." With each word, something fell away from Elrika's mind, and her tears flowed hotter and faster. "How did this happen?" she sobbed, not in despair but in rage. In self-reproach. She covered her face with her hand and rasped, "How could I have let this happen?"
"Let what happen?"
But it was Saren that answered her. The relationship is symbiotic… Organic and machine intertwined. A union of flesh and steel.
Elrika's hand fell from her face, exposing the glowing lights she knew were visible through her skin, the cybernetic enhancements that Cerberus had given her. Cerberus, who was run by an indoctrinated man. Leaving her partially machine. She clawed at her face, tearing open her own skin and feeling the metal adhered to her bones. The pain of her body was nothing compared to the searing agony in her soul.
Preserve Shepard's body.
Harbinger didn't just want to kill her. He wanted her body. He wanted her corpse.
This hurts you, whenever he hurt one of her friends.
I know you feel this, whenever she was injured.
He needed her alive…
To complete the process of indoctrination.
"How did Anderson know I was on the Citadel?" she asked, clenching her other hand until the gun bit into her skin and broke through. Blood flowed through her fingers. "How did he get to the room before I did? There was no other way into it. And he wasn't in front of me." More questions. No answers. Keep asking. Keep going.
Shepard, whispered Saren.
"Commander. You are wasting time. I cannot make the decision. It must be you."
Elrika glanced over her shoulder. "How did Hackett know I was on the Citadel? How did he know I could fire the Crucible? Coates told him I was dead. I heard it…"
How did you hear it? asked Saren.
"I…"
"Commander. Your strength fails you. You need to decide."
Do you?
"Do I?"
Elrika turned slowly and stared down at the child, the familiar silhouette of the boy she had failed to save. In her dreams, he had burned, and in the final one, she had embraced him and burned with him. But her eyes. Her eyes had not been afraid. Or despairing. Or angry. They were determined. They were trying to tell her something.
Embrace the child and burn, whispered Saren.
"Catalyst," she said aloud, feeling that same fire lick through her body, replacing the ice cold of horror with the roaring inferno of rage and hate. She embraced it. She drank it in. Swallowed it. Recognized that intrinsic part of herself that was barely-leashed murderous desire. "Tell me this, how did you know to look like that?" She shook her head slowly, unable to see clearly through the tears anymore. "I haven't told anyone about the kid…"
The Catalyst said nothing. There was nothing it could say.
"Really fucking clever." Elrika closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling like she was drinking in everything she had lost. "You came so fucking close." She turned to face the Catalyst, head high, the pain fading away. "I bet you're pissed now, aren't you, Harbinger? I talked Saren down. I talked the Illusive Man down. Now I'm talking myself down."
She walked right up to the Catalyst and stared down at it, a final declaration stamping out in the air between them.
"You came so close!" Elrika felt a savage grin lighting her face as she pointed the gun at the Catalyst, not in a threat, but as a declaration. "But you know what? I said it a thousand times; I will destroy you! Even if this is real, even if this is an actual event that is unfolding, I've already made my choice. We fight or we die! So you can take your fucking options and stick them up your ass!"
The Catalyst disappeared, and a Reaper roar split the air, threatening to tear Shepard's head apart. She screamed, clutching her skull in agony as she staggered, almost thrown off of her feet. The gun fell from her hands as she tried to hold her head together, blood beginning to flow from her nose and, from the feel of her hands over the side of her head, it was also coming from her ears. She fell to her knees and then just fell, the floor disappearing under her. She screamed and threw up an arm, trying to save herself.
A turian hand wrapped around it, dragging her back from the abyss, onto the edge right next to the beam that would have brought organics and machines into a single being. Arms folded around her, dragging her away, shielding her.
"Ga-" Elrika's eyes widened when she saw the cheek spurs, saw the long fringe. Shoving her hand against the turian's chest, Elrika pushed Saren away from her, but her hand only met empty air.
Shepard!
Something turned Elrika's head as the entire room around her began to shake, and she found her eyes falling on the option to destroy the Reapers. The option that represented Anderson, bathed in red. A renegade choice that she would normally take. A vow she had always sworn to herself that she would uphold. Anderson had always advocated sense, choice the ability to fight. He had always stood beside her.
"Commander!"
Elrika's head snapped around as she stared at Saren. Or a ghost of Saren. He had a turian rifle in one hand and was hurling biotic blasts at a hoard of husks that were emerging from the edge of the platform, clearing a path for her.
"Get up, Shepard!" he roared.
His eyes were not glowing.
Elrika staggered to her feet, stumbling, falling. Human hands wrapped around her wrists and hauled her up. She caught a fleeting glance of Ashley's long dark hair and face before she was spun away and pushed forward. Saren was still ahead of her, mowing down husks, and she struggled to get to his side.
Husks appeared between herself and the Spectre and Elrika gasped, stepping back. A krogan roar split the air and Grunt passed right in front of her nose. She followed him and saw Miranda and Jacob back to back, keeping the husks off of Grunt as he ploughed right through them.
This is in my head, isn't it?
"Shepard keep moving!" Saren flipped a husk over his shoulder and kicked it over the edge before it ever fell. He turned and backhanded another husk aside. He was holding his own, but it wouldn't last long.
Elrika broke into a run, retracing her steps along the walkway. A marauder appeared, but a black-clad arm wrapped around its neck as Thane – Thane who was dead – hauled it away and beat it into submission. A brute roared, but a glance had her seeing Wrex catching it. Catching it. And then the ancient krogan began to push it backwards.
Elrika shoved aside a husk and ducked under a banshee's swipe. A biotic warp from somewhere over her shoulder took out its barrier and a rifle shot from what had to be a Widow obliterated its head. A glance showed Samara and Legion battling the masses from afar.
A husk grabbed Elrika's foot and she stumbled and fell. She glanced back as Mordin slammed his foot down on the crippled husk's back and shot it in the head.
More human hands grabbed her and she expected to see Ashley, but it was Kaiden that pulled her to her feet, dragging her forward, pushing her toward Liara, who was throwing husks away left right and center with her biotics. As Elrika slipped past one of her best friends and ascended the ramp, Tali held more husks back with her shotgun and Jack pulverised any that got too close. Liara quickly joined the quarian, as did everyone else, forming a phalanx at Shepard's back, keeping the husks from overwhelming her from behind.
Elrika turned to look ahead as Saren was driven to his knees by a ravager blast that obliterated his biotic barrier. Elrika's heart leaped into her throat as she moved forward with more strength than she thought she had. A gun sailed from the air and her gloved hands caught it as, in full armour, she moved in front of Saren and mowed the ravager down with constant fire from her Revenant. As the creature wailed, powerful sniper rifles bored into its head and a familiar Mantis blossomed over Shepard's shoulder.
With a roar, Javik appeared at the ravager's side, pushing it hard, knocking it back, and hurling it over the edge. Turning, he faced Elrika, fangs bared as he pointed at the catalyst that would 'destroy' the Reapers.
"You will never be alone."
Elrika spared a glance at the man that had thrown her the gun.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too," said Garrus.
Together, they lifted their weapons and fired.
Shepard, whispered Saren as he brought his gun up and fired over her shoulder. Thank you.
More rounds appeared, recognizable rounds, biotic blasts. Metal buckled. Glass shattered. An incendiary blast ripped through the supports. Out of the corner of her eye, Elrika saw the Illusive Man. She saw Kai Leng. She saw Udina.
Anderson.
Elrika refocused on the conduit, and only just realised that she hadn't had to eject a single thermal clip this entire time.
Yeah. That's right, Harbinger. Suck my-
The Catalyst screamed. The Reapers howled. And Elrika Shepard's world disappeared in an explosive haze of fire.
~}_.*._{~
Breath surged into Elrika Shepard's lungs, pain splintering her senses immediately as her eyes snapped open. Above her was a hazy blue sky, obscured by a fine mist of smoke and dust. Her fingers clawed at the dirt beneath her as rock and rubble shifted off of her body.
Rubble. Dirt. Sky.
She shoved at a piece of concrete that was draped over her, her adrenaline surging as she crawled forth from the ruins. She was at the base of the beam still, the beam which was now dark. A beam she had never entered. Elrika's hand slipped and she fell down a short slope, sprawling at the base of the pile of rubble she had landed in. Still on Earth.
Still alive.
"Fuck you," she said with a laugh. She knelt up and looked at the sky. "Fuck you. Fuck you…" Then she doubled over and began to cry, sobbing loudly, like a child, into the dirt under her face. She curled up into a ball and screamed and cried and hated everyone and everything.
"Shepard!"
Her eyes snapped open and she made a quiet sound of horror at the familiar voice. Pushing herself up, she froze in the process of looking around, her eyes falling on something in the dirt in front of her. Pain lanced her chest and she closed her eyes.
Fuck you…
~}_.*._{~
He heard her. He heard her voice. He knew her voice. It was her. It had to be.
"Shepard!" Garrus cried, breaking away from the rest of the ground. "Elrika!" He vaulted atop a broken mako and climbed on his hands and knees over it, his gun discarded behind him. "Elrika! Where are you?"
He fell to the other side, jarring his broken rubs but not caring as he rolled back to his feet. Stepping over corpses, he crawled to the top of a pile of rubble, ignoring the way it slipped and shifted threateningly under him. He was desperate to find her. The husks were advancing, the Reapers were pressing the assault, they were being destroyed. If they were going to die, he was damn well going out with…
Garrus crested the rubble and felt his entire world stop.
Her…
Elrika was kneeling on the ground in front of him, her entire body one massive wound. Blood poured from her face, from her side, flowed down her arms. She was a mess of shattered armour and broken bones. But she was kneeling upright. Strong.
With a gun pressed to her jaw and her finger on the trigger.
"What… what are you doing?" Garrus whispered. He was numb. He couldn't even think beyond what was right in front of him. His mind shut down his heart so he wouldn't scream at what he had found. "Elrika…"
"Garrus." She opened her eyes, but didn't look at him. Instead, she kept her eyes on the blue sky, on the distant battle she couldn't see. "I'm indoctrinated…"
~}_.*._{~
Tl;dnr is at the bottom in bold. For convenience, I have split this into several sections.
My dearest readers and reviewers,
Never let it said that I don't cherish each and every one of you (yes, even you flamers. Here. Have a cookie). However, there has something that has been brought to my attention that I feel I can't ignore. And, yes, I am blatantly exploiting you, right now, but don't worry. This will be put on every single one of my fanfictions, so you're not the only ones.
As some of you may be aware, there have been a mass deletion of fanfictions and account suspensions and even bannings on this site. People are losing their stories and their accounts. Talented writers. Beginner writers. Hobbyists. This is due to their fictions being reported for infractions on this site's rules, all because of an elitist stranglehold and monopoly of membership and participation on this site.
'Critics United'/ 'Literate Union'
Aka, an attempt to validate vicious cyberbullying
Now, let it never be said that I think that the rules should be violated, or that violations should be allowed. They are there for many reasons, most primarily legal. has been careful to ensure that we are all able to post fanfictions on this site, an act in and of itself that can be considered legally questionable. After all, we are appropriating intellectual property that belongs to those that are not ourselves, aren't we (although let me remark on the hilarity of having potentially plagiarised images on our plagiarised stories). Those who run have done incredible work, voluntarily, and are amazing people for doing so. However, whether or not these fictions violate the rules, or the validation of the removal of their works is not what I am bringing to light here. You are able to formulate your own opinion on the matter, and you are responsible for your own works.
As well as your own behaviour.
And it is behaviour that I wish to address here. The horrendous and reprehensible behaviour of members of this site who have joined together in a hateful mission of cyber bullying. Because that is exactly what this is; the most deplorable example of victimisation and antagonism I have ever seen on this site. These people specifically target stories that violate this site, and persistently hover over it like vultures, pecking away at the victim until they get what they want; which is ultimately a deletion of all stories that violate the rules of this site.
These are not people who report stories and move on. They have made it their mission to see deleted each and every single fiction that exhibits an infraction of the rules, however major or minor, and in the process humiliate and persecute the authors who – as I have seen many of them state – are apparently deserving of the ridicule that this group inflicts upon them.
And they have a forum dedicated to this end. On this site. There, they collate fictions that they have seen deleted, either directly or indirectly, in a hall of shame. They also bring forth fictions for judgement by their fellows for the sole purpose of deciding whether or not it violates the rules and, if it can be proven that it does violate the rules, they proceed to head to the fiction en-mass to spam the story's review feed and report the fiction if they don't comply to the site's rules.
They collate deleted fictions in a 'hall of shame' topic that allows them to display all the fictions that have been deleted because of their actions. They congratulate each other on a job well done. They laugh at poor writing, drag people through the dirt, and for what? So that they can feel good about their 'hard work'? So that they can feel as though they have some great power holding life or death over these fictions, passing judgement on these authors?
Now, for their credit, they seem to think they are doing the right thing. They ensure to discuss questionable fics, ensure that they are breaking rules, and then go and report. And some of them are courteous and polite about their warnings. On the forum, one person this:
"1. None of the people on this site are god, but the admins on this sitedodecide what stories get to be on here based on the guidelinesyouagreed to.
2. The people here don't report stories because they're bad, we report stories because they break guidelines. (This includes horrific spelling, grammar, and chat-speak.) Given, if it is a bad story, we might tear it to pieces with our criticism, but we don't report it."
This statement is of merit, and would be acceptable, if it were not for the fact that, four posts down, the same person posted this:
"Reviewed and reported. Really, do all stupid fangirls really think they're going to get away with absolute crap like this? Just as well, why must all of them put it in eye-blinding bold and italics?"
The hypocrisy of them trying to claim some noble cause while passing these personal judgements sickens me. After all, I don't know about you, but I am a fangirl of many things, and saying such disparagingly judgemental terms makes me feel like this person puts themselves at a level far above my own. I don't want to seem arrogant or egotistical when I say this, but I would dearly love to see this person use the term 'fangirl' as an insult to my face.
One group of people call themselves 'Critics United', but I can safely say that their self-titling is pathetic. These people are not critics. They are bullies hiding under a guise of justification because they are only targeting those that break the rules of this site. A cause like that does not explain or validate their actions in any way. It is not less bullying, it is not less a ridiculous display of egotism, and it is no less an act of victimisation. This is not critiquing, this isn't even constructive criticism, as they like to claim it. I am a critic. I am a literature student. And I would never, ever equate these people with holding the role of critique, unless they are referring to the meaning of being negative naysayers.
Moreover, you do not justify your actions as constructive criticism when you force it down someone's throat. Not everyone can handle constructive criticism, and you don't get to stamp your words and self-stylise in order to validate such criticism when someone doesn't want it. That is still bullying.
The fact that these people try to veil their victimisation behind courteous and polite words doesn't make it any less bullying. Doesn't make it any less than a vindictive desire to hold some elitist hold over writing over this site, and proclaim themselves judge, jury and executioner of people's fictions. They have been screenshotted in reviews saying things like 'piece of **' 'toxic crap' and directly insulting people's writing skill. I don't know about you, but this kind of juvenile behaviour cannot be considered 'critiquing'. That behaviour is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. How dare they hold some holier-than-thou attitude over other writers and maintain some sort of integrity because they are 'enforcing the rules'.
As I have said, I do not condone rule breaking in any way, shape or form on this site, and I have been careful to ensure that my own fics do not break the rules. But that does not mean that I feel I have a right to hunt down all the fics that do break the rules. It is the responsibility of each and every member to ensure their works don't break the rules, and to report those that flaunt the rules.
And then move on.
Making a group for the sole purpose of some self-imposed duty of policing disgusts me. The idea that someone has read my fictions, nodded their head and said 'You pass', decreeing that I would be allowed to post not merely because I have followed the rules, but because they gave me permission to disgusts me. These people have taken a power that belongs to everyone, and decided to turn it toward their own means, believing that they are safe and okay because they are merely upholding the rules of the site. When, in actuality, that is not at all merely what they are doing.
And what is worse, is condoning their behaviour. I do not believe that the administrators of this site are reading the stories they have deleted, validating that they violate the rules, and then deleted them based on their own judgement. Instead, they are going after people based on the report count listed by their name, a count that this group, Critics United, is largely responsible for.
For those members of this group who feel that they have some form of duty to patrol this site for this purpose, but are careful and courteous in their reviews and warnings, I'm sorry. But you willingly associate with this ego-trip and I am afraid you are not completely free of blame.
For those of you that use this as an excuse to flaunt your superiority over others, and then claim no responsibility for your actions because you are 'upholding the rules'… There is no excuse, justification, or validation for your behaviour. None.
Nor is there an excuse, justification, or validation for 's condoning of it.
A worse group, however, is the Literate Union, which is almost identical to Critics United except for the fact that they are fully aware of the fact that all they do is flame, degrade and viciously bully those who they believe is worthy. They are everything I have stated above, without an attempt to justify their cruel behaviour. These people are slightly more self-aware, but even less mature in their actions. They have a forum dedicated to asking one another to specifically go and flame people and their stories, and I am at a loss as to the reason why.
Critics United have embarked on a witch hunt because they want to destroy the witches and purge their town.
Literate Union just wants to watch people squeal and burn in the flames.
This is cyber bullying, without any explanation or excuse. 'Upholding the rules' is not something I will accept. It does not require this level of hunt-and-kill execution that these people are exhibiting. It isn't their right to take it upon themselves to tear apart each author, post it on their hateful forum and giggle behind their hands with one another.
I do not want to be associated with a site that condones this blatant display of bullying.
The rating system/the bannings and deletions
AKA I think you missed one
As many readers may be aware, this time of year slows down for me because of my university. I have also been unable to post new chapters on my fanfiction because I am writing a thesis, and it is draining most of my energy. I have to work toward a Ph.D scholarship, which can range anywhere from thirty-five to sixty-five thousand taxpayer dollars, which makes me want to make sure I am deserving of it. However, I was in the process of re-writing several of my fics, and prepared to post them en-mass when I next had time.
However, I would like to draw attention to this section of the front page;
June 4th 2012 - Notices:
Please note we would like to clarify the content policy we have in place since 2002. follows the Fiction Rating system ranging from Fiction K to Fiction M. Although Fiction Ratings goes up to Fiction MA, since 2002 has not allowed Fiction MA rated content which can contain adult/explicit content on the site. only accepts content in the Fiction K through Fiction M range. Fiction M can contain adult language, themes and suggestions. Detailed descriptions of physical interaction of sexual or violent nature is considered Fiction MA and has not been allowed on the site since 2002.
I would state here, briefly, that the idea of not having a mature rating for mature readers has always perplexed me. I feel making them unavailable to unregistered readers, and having a function in a profile that allows for a 'I am over the age of 18' box to be checked would cover the ethical issues in regards to this. Ethical considerations on the internet require only a disclosure of age and consent of content that is about to be read. Once a person checks a 'I am over the age of 18' box, the people who are exposing them to the information are no longer liable for any legal action. They have fulfilled their requirement of responsibility. As such, not having a mature section for this site has never really made sense for me. However, that is not what I wish to address here.
As such, I regret to inform my readers that, though the content of my stories are not exclusively of this nature, many of my fictions feature such violence in their content, from detailed description of sexual interaction (Gestalt, and the intent in Paradise Lost), and violence (pretty much every single one of my fictions). What you would consider 'detailed' and rule violating, however, is subject to opinion, but from what I have addressed, opinion is enough to get your story deleted, or your account suspended or banned. I had thought that if the story had the content, but did not feature it as the main issue – for example a romance that went into sex, but did not have sex in every chapter – would be allowed as a mature example of professional writing.
I was, apparently, wrong.
I am fortunate that all of my stories exist on my laptop and not exclusively on , but it would devastate me to lose the wonderful reviews I have gotten from you, the painstaking time that you have all put in to telling me your thoughts and feelings on my work, helping me improve, giving me invaluable feedback and encouragement. I have been dragged from the depths of writer's block and depression because of the things you have said, and I cannot even imagine how some people feel with their stories deleted, not only losing their work, but the amazing reviews that people have left for them, to show them that their work is appreciated.
And let me say that the idea that is deleting fanfictions that depict graphic sex or violence, but are allowing people like Critics United and
I also do not feel like waiting for the Critics United group to turn their attention to the Mass Effect category and rifle through it, finding my fictions and passing their judgements on my work. It isn't their right.
The result
As such – and I know many of you are going to hate me for this, and I'm sorry –henceforth, in protest of the actions being taken on this site;
I will no longer be updating any of my fanfictions.
I will not be posting the rewrites of Paradise Lost, In the Shadow of Gods and A Cage of Butterflies that I have been working on.
I will not be posting new stories or one-shots on this site, nor any planned sequels.
Whether or not I repost my fictions elsewhere, and whether or not I post new fictions elsewhere has yet to be decided.
This is me being responsible for my own actions, my own opinions, and my own image, in that I will not be associated in any way with these people, nor will I allow their actions to go unaddressed.
This is not a message to . This is a message to you, my readers, my reviewers. Critics United are a group of vicious cyberbullies who defend their actions with the guise of 'upholding the rules'. Literate Union are simply cyberbullies who do not even try to defend their actions, and their actions are blatantly antagonistic and cruel. This does not make it any less bullying. It does not make their actions any less cruel. While I advocate that the rules be upheld, and I know that some fictions are in blatant violation of them, this group should not be allowed to continue conducting themselves as they have. These people purposefully seek out and victimising members of this site, and this is not behaviour I want to endorse, condone, forgive, be associated with, or turn a blind eye to.
I am not sure if I will post my works elsewhere for people to read. If I do, I will let you know.
I have created a tumblr for mass communication in case my account on is deleted. annewhynnfanfiction(youknoetherest) Please add me. I will keep everyone updated.
This needs to stop.
I love you all sincerely and dearly. You are my valued readers and reviewers, and you make me so happy whenever I hear anything from any of you. But this is unacceptable.
I am sorry.
For the forseable future, this is me signing out.
Love
Anne
P.S – Feel free to send me reviews filled with rage and hate, condemnations for my actions and… well. Anger. I have marshmellows ready.