A/N: Alright ladies and gentlmen, good news and bad news. Good news first. I'm somewhat healed! I've been on an updating spree as of late, and finally had time to answer a request. I managed to put this up here at points between the ol' job hunting, and decided to take my very first stab at a pure Mass Effect fic, with a twist. Bad news is thus, that my poor uncle has passed on.

Here it is, and thank you all for your support in this hard time! Its been really hard coping with his dath; I knew him ever since I was little and the thought of him being gone like that...by his own hand no less...it makes me wonder if I really knew him at all. So once again, thank you for all the kind, encouraging words.

I love you guys so, soooo much! *Cries*

I suppose I'm still writing on this site this as a result of his death, instead of drowning my woes in other...less savory means. My uncle never really had many friends, you see, and sometimes I wonder if just one would've changed that. It was either continue writing as always, or drown my sorrows in alchohol and violence. And, as much as a might enjoy the occasional beer, I'd much rather pour out my grief into something productive, that will hopefully make me feel better, rather than get drunk and angry. Now, without further adeu, with an idea hours in the making...

So I'll skip the introduction, but might I advise you all to leave your assumptions behind you! This...is going to be one helluva story. Still...I'm alive. Life's beaten the hell out of me...but I'm alive. And so is my imagination! Away we go! !

"Two years..."

~?

Invictus

He lay adrift in space.

All around him the Normandy burned and broke apart into a thousand pieces; its sundered hull plunging into the atmosphere below. Aways in the distance he could see the trails of her escape pods; those tiny, little jets of blue flames marking their escape from the Normandy. It heartened him to know that Joker was in the very last of those pods. Their favorite wise-cracking pilot would live to see another day after alll. But there would be no such escape for him. A grim part of him knew this.

Static blarred over his suit radio; there was nothing he could do to contact anyone. His air was running low. The ambush had cost them all most dear but none more than Shepard himself-nothing in his training could've prepared him for this. He could only pray that Ash and the others had made it out in time-no, they must've. He refused to think that the love of his life was in there somwhere, dying amongst the burning wreckage. She must have. They all had.

The alternative was unacceptable.

Out of the corner of his eye, despite the lack of gravity, he could see the culprit responsible for this catastrophe. It loomed over him like death itself. Its golden laser lanced out one final time, soundless in the void. Like a thunderbolt flung from the hand of Zeus himself, it sheered through the last of the Normandy, the susbsquent explosion slamming him down, then up, then hurtling his body out into the void. He hung there for a long and terrifying moment, watching as the last of the ship roared down to the planet below, orange hues contrasting sharply with the blue world over which he hung. It was a beautiful really, and a small part of him would always rememb

That was when he felt it. Heard it.

Hissssssss...

With a mounting sense of horror Shepard realized what was happening, his hands instinctively clamping down over the now-severed hose in the back of his helmet. Too little, too late. Choking for air, gasping for breath he thrashed about, trying to clamp his fumbling fingers around the hose, to preserve what little air he had left. Alll of that was lost when a piece of burning wreckage slammed into him from behind. His suit opened with out so much as a single sound, blood boiling into the air.

Space flooded his lungs, stealing away what little oxygen he had left. A chilling numbness crept up his legs. Then his chest. Arms. Face.

The last thing Commander Shepard saw was the distant horizon of the planet Alchera, swelling in his vision.

John Shepard was known for many, many things.

Born on Earth. Veteran of Akuze, powerful biotic, a paragon who worked just as hard to save lives as he would end them. Saviour of the Citadel, the man who'd sacrificed human lives to save the Destiny Ascension with the Council aboard. Yet in the same vein he'd taken countless lives. Stopped terrible people from committing heinous acts. Whatever one might think of him, he'd done more good in this life than most people have ever dreamed. He preserved life wherevever he could, made peace whenever he could. All his being was focued to that singular end.

Any man who accomplishes that deserves to be treated with respect. And when he dies, should be laid to rest with the highest of honors. But he was not at rest.

His eyes twitched anxiously in his sleep-body shivering as the nightmares bombarded him one after the other. Voices in his head, mocking him. Visions of death and destruction plagued him at every turn. He saw entire worlds burn as Reapers descended in droves, charring everything black only to fade away again. Ash, Garrus, Kaiden, Tali, Wrex, Liara, Joker. He was forced to stand there...and watch, listening as they damned him for his failures, for failing to live up to their expectations, for dying, for not being there.

"Shepard..."

"Why, John...?"

"You've damned us, skipper..."

"Trusted you..."

"Never should've listened to a human..."

"You know its the right choice...!"

"All your fault...

Their words converged on him in an endless, animal bleat, a cacophony of sound that made him wish he were deaf and dumb, blind and mute. Anything was better than listening to this, realizing he'd failed, that he had let them all down...

And there, rising above all of them, the nameless, toneless voice of...something else. It wormed its way into his head, mocking him:

"You cannot stop us, Shepard."

In a start, blue eyes fluttered open.

"Wake up, Commander...!"

"Wha...?!"

With a strangled yelp, Shepard lurched out of his dream and back to reality. Ripples of brutal biotic power sheathed his body, shredding the restraints with which she'd been bound to the bed. He barely noticed them. Breathe, his mind told him but the effort caught in his lungs, threatening to suffocate him entirely. Panic flooded him. A glance down confirmed his suspicions. He was alive. Breathing. Existing. But how? His brain did the unthinkable, it blanked on him, refusing to answer. With his body in such a shoddy state, he knew the last thing he should do is move, but he did so anyway. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

His last memories were of the void. Of the Normandy, burning down around him. No air. Couldn't breathe. Falling toward the planet Alchera. Warmth. His last thoughts...

Ash.

Now this.

It would be so nice to ignore the small arms fire raging outside he thought, to just lay down and pretend this was all a dream. Maybe that was it, then. Maybe this was all just some sick twisted dream come to torment him in the void, another mockery of the afterlife-

"Godamnit Shepard, get your ass out of that bed now!" it seemed the woman wasn't willing to let him lay. "This facility is under attack. Your scars aren't healed but you need to get moving. This facility is coming apart at the seams. There's a pistol and some armor in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry!"

"Fuck!"

Swinging his legs over the edge, he nearly fell clean out of the cot and crashed to the floor. It was only through a supreme effort that he managed to steady herself and even then, his swimming vission threatened to send him crashing over the edge and back into oblivion all over again. His body moved mechanically, stumbling to the locker. He found them just as the voice had said, quickly tugging the slate-grey pieces on one by one until at last they locked in place. Finally he felt his shieldds shimmer on, the tiniest flicker of energy heralding their activation.

"Watch out!" the woman's voice called once more. "You've got security mechs closing in on your position! Take cover!"

The doors whooshed open and he whirled, half-expecting to find himself face to face with whatever was attacking-

Nothing could have prepared him for what came through those doors. Or rather, who.

When those doors slid open, all he saw was...

...nothing.

"Oops." A sing-song voice chimed from the thin air. "Sorry, wrong room-hey." As he looked on a lithe figure materialized from the nothingness, a dark, hooded female form making itself known as she shimmered out of the tactical cloak from which she'd been hidden. She stretched and Shepard noticed her back arch unconsciously almost like a cat. Then he snapped his attention away, realizing that his eyes had been flowing her form, noting the curve of her back and legs that was clearly outlined by her form flowing suit.

"I did not just do that..." Shepard muttered to himself, feeling his face flush.

"You're Commander Shepard...aren't you?" Without giving him time to answer, she jumped off the countertop and skipped down the stairs, sliding to a halt only a few feet away. "Didn't think you'd be up." A moment of tense, disbelllieving silence passed between the two of them. She was a tiny little thing he realized, Tail was probably bigger than her. Tali. Where was she? Where was everyone? Where was he? Shaking off those cruel thoughts, Shepard willed himself to speak.

"And you are...?"

"Kasumi Goto, at your service." she gave an impish grin and snapped off a sloppy salute. "Gotta admit Shep...you're a lot taller in person."

Despite the chaos raging around him, the commander felt a small smile tug at his scarred face. The brief moment of levity was appreciated.

'Kasumi,' he thought to himself. 'Sounds Japanese...

"So...why are you here?"

"Because snooping around is fun, and I missed this room a while back." she replied sing-songedly.

"No, I mean, why are you here?"

"You mean besides the piles of credits just lying around and the massive offer Cerberus made me?" At his disbelieving stare, she only giggled softly. "What can I say? I'd heard the rumors-got a little curious. Decided to see it for myself. Here, catch." she flung a thermal clip at him, snagged effortlessly out of the air by his biotics. Then the weight of her words crashed down on him like a wave. Cerberus. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his hand instinctually tightening around the grip of his pistol.

"Cerberus?" He could feel his anger rise, but he fought to keep it from his voice. "This is a Cerberus base?" It was that same rage that'd kept creeping up during the hunt for Saren, when he'd found their bases, seen all the horrors they wrought. Fury fillled his throat with acid, making him want to break something just to give it an outlet. With one hand, he reached down and slapped the fresh clip into his weapon, training it on her in a blink of the eye. Kasumi didn't strike him as the Cerberus type, but you never knew.

"Are you with them?"

"Me?" she looked scandalized by the insinuation. "Of course not. They're just doing me a little favor. Well," and here she had the gall to actually look sheepish, "You are, actually."

"I am?"

"Well-

Whatever else she might've said died as a bullet whistled between them. It seemed the mechs had finally arrived. Breaking apart, they dove down into cover behind the benches. Kasumi popped up not a moment later, her Omni-Tool glowing a vibrant orange. Seconds later, the droids found started sparking and fizzing, their limbs twitching sporadically. Overload, he realized. Three rounds later, and the glitching machines were scrap upon the tiled floor.

"Nice shooting." Kasumi chimed in beside him.

"Thanks." A small smile broke out on his face. "Lets keep moving."

She beamed. "Ready when you are, Shep."

And with that, they walked right into the thick of things.

Despite all his misgivings, despite waking up in a Cerberus base as a glorified undead, a thrill ran through him. No one had asked him if he wanted to be brought back. Nobody took his opinion. They'd simply done what most thought was impossible, reviving him from the dead. Bringing him back from the void. Whatever there reasons were, it didn't matter, though he silently resolved to deal with them later. He was here. He was alive and kicking, breathing after being spaced. He had a second chance, an opportunity to right his wrongs, and most of all, stop the Reapers.

It was good to be back.

A/N: And there we go. Mass Effect 2 has begun anew! And I'm already shaking things up! What changes will this lead to...? Who knows...

So...in the immortal words of Atlas and myelf...

...Would you Kindly Review this Story?

R&R! =D