Dawn broke on Earth, illuminating a scene of complete and absolute destruction. The weak, golden light glinted through the concrete skeletons of multi-story buildings, throwing slats of sunlight across the rubble-strewn streets below them. Like a colony of ants, the survivors swarmed to clear away the memories of war. Scattered bodies and wreckage were driven away, out of sight and out of mind. Forgotten, yet so very close to the heart. The blackened shells of vehicles would be melted down for whatever metals could be retrieved. The bodies would be tossed into mass graves. No graves for the heroes of the war, only a column of names.
Garrus Vakarian wandered through the sun-drenched streets, unsure of where he was going. Shepard was gone. He turned a corner at random, and came to a crossroads. Shepard was gone. He picked a route at random and continued on. A female human walking down the street towards Garrus smiled at him. How could they be so happy? Garrus thought to himself. How could they be happy in the midst of so much death and destruction? He turned another corner. Shepard was gone. Garrus looked around. He had performed a perfect U-turn.
He was back at the crossroads.
Shepard was gone.
He picked another road. Bodies lined the street, baking in the rapidly-rising sun. No graves for these heroes. A human in civilian clothing, and a turian medic were roughly grabbing the bodies and dragging them to a truck. A krogan stood by the open door of the truck. As Garrus watched, the krogan wrenched the bodies from the ground, and tossed them uncaringly into the truck. No graves, just a truck. Garrus nodded to the workers. Their work would become easier, as they became deadened to the death. There was a thud as a body struck the metal bed of the truck. Past the truck, line after line of corpses covered by tarpaulin stretched out as far as Garrus could see. He spun on his heel and strode back down the street. A body thudded into the metal bed of the van. Garrus nodded to the workers. They were already beginning to move the bodies quicker than before.
He was back at the crossroads.
Shepard was gone.
Garrus turned to the third road. A house had collapsed into the street, flooding it with rubble. Garrus stepped carefully up the broken concrete. He stepped onto the remains of a wall. Shepard was gone. The wall suddenly collapsed under his weight, and he tumbled back down to the bottom of the pile of rubble. Garrus spat out blood, and turned back to the mountain. He picked his route more carefully this time. He was almost a third of the way to the top of the pile. Shepard was gone. His boot slipped on the rubble, and Garrus was sent tumbling down the pile of rubble once again. He hacked up a globule of blood and spat it out onto the ground. Someone took him by the hand.
Garrus looked up, and saw the blood-streaked face of Liara. She was smiling. Someone else took him by his other hand. Garrus turned to see Tali. Dust and blood had splattered her suit. They led him up the mountain of rubble, picking their path carefully. Shepard was gone. Garrus stumbled, but a strong pair of hands held him from behind. Turning, Garrus saw the hulking form of Wrex. The krogan's wide, flat face was spread in a toothy grin. Garrus turned back to the mountain, and followed in Liara and Tali'a footsteps. Shepard was gone. Garrus' foot plunged into a crevice. He cried out in pain, and tried to extricate his foot, but it was stuck. The crevice closed around his leg, almost crushing it. Then, he was gently lifted from the hole by two pairs of strong hands. Garrus looked around. On his left stood Grunt, grinning inanely at him. On his right was Samara, her serene eyes filled with pity.
The group continued up the mountain. They were almost two thirds of the way to the top. Shepard was gone. Garrus' foot slipped, and he began to slide down over the concrete. His armour jarred against the uneven surface. Suddenly, hands caught his collar, and he jerked to a halt. Garrus was heaved back up to the waiting group. He followed the tattooed knuckles of one hand to Jack, her pierced and tattooed face twisted in a grimace. The pale, unblemished skin of the other led to Miranda. She smiled as the group pulled Garrus to his feet. They carried on up the mountain of rubble. As they reached the summit, stones suddenly began to tumble down around Garrus. The top of the mountain suddenly exploded outwards – showering rubble and concrete around them. Someone took a deep, shuddering breath. A hand encased in black armour reached out. Garrus pulled away the rubble around the arm, revealing a chestplate stamped with an insignia: N7.
Garrus feverishly extricated the rubble above the chestplate. He exposed a dust-covered face streaked with blood, and shrouded by locks of dirty red hair.
Shepard smiled at Garrus. Her arms reached out for him, and he took her into a tight embrace.