Author's Note:

Like many, I was dissatisfied with the ending that was presented in ME3- so much so that I had to stop playing the game because it felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Eventually, I was able to play the game again, but even after all the new DLC content; I was still disappointed and frustrated by the ending, so I decided to write my own. I know this is not the first "fix-it" ending and I highly doubt it will be the last- FFN is a great avenue for cathartic writing- but I hope that you (the reader) will find it enjoyable. Plus, because of the mysteries introduced, I prefer to think of this as a "re-imaged ending" rather than a "fix-it" ending. *grin*

Spoiler: My goal in this story was to find a way to keep all of the events of the ME trilogy and the DLC content canon, but also keep my Shepard alive. The missions within ME3, the indoctrination of TIM, the run to the Citadel beam and yes, even the conversation with the "god-child" still happened. The events following "The Choice" diverge into completely new territory though. Also, as the story unfolds some new mysteries will be revealed, but I promise that by the end of the story they will all be addressed.

One other tidbit which is specific to this chapter: Italicized words with no quotations are current - in the moment - thoughts. Italicized words in quotations are dialogue that has occurred in the past.

Chapter 1

It was dark and cool and dry. Dusty. The acrid scent of scorched flesh and metal saturated the air along with the unmistakable pungency of dirt. There was no other sound than the slow labored gasps of lungs in pain. Fighting for breath. No movement other than the faint twisting of broken bones and raw skin. No feeling except that of pain and burning and the ache of a tortured body.

Eyes opened. A painful movement that only confirmed the darkness.

A sensation of heaviness was everywhere. Immovable. Suffocating.

A hand twisted, dirt and rubble moved. More pain, but now a constant, throbbing agony.

The other hand twisted, more dirt and debris shifted with the same sharp sting that ebbed to a dull pounding.

There was no pain below the waist, no feeling at all. A blissful nothingness.

Where?

Somewhere dark. Somewhere cold. Somewhere alone. Not death, which was expected. Nor life, it seemed.

What?

A faint flash of glimmering lights gave the answer, and with it came memories…

She had thought to die when the explosion and flames overtook her body. The flashing lights reminded her of the choices—blue, green, red. Surrender. Submit. Oppose.

Full memory came back.

"Wake up."

The voice had been soft, like a gentle breeze over summer grass, smooth and caressing as silk on a naked body. And evil. A malevolence which seemed more potent because of the soft spoken confidence. The matter-of-fact logic it produced when it explained their purpose.

"Like a cleansing fire, we restore balance."

Sovereign never felt like a force of nature to her. She felt the animosity, the superiority, when it dispassionately threatened the existence of organic life. She instinctually understood that the open hostility carried within its every word expressed a deeper meaning: malice.

"I am beyond your comprehension."

Sovereign said that organic life was an accidental mutation and that the Reapers were the pinnacle of evolution. Of existence. Balance was never part of its equation.

"You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it. I am the vanguard of your destruction."

If Sovereign was the herald, then Harbinger was the sword and shield.

"We are the Harbinger of your destiny."

It was a tool that taunted and mocked and threatened.

"You cannot escape your destiny, Shepard."

Then the crucible was discovered, an unknown quantity, and it became the last hope of the current cycle.

"We believed the concept had been eradicated. Clearly, organics are more resourceful than we realized."

They weren't all-knowing. They admitted fallibility. Synthetics that destroy organics so organics wouldn't make synthetics that would eventually destroy organics. A convoluted cycle of repetitive existence.

"You have altered the variables."

They acknowledged that she had changed the parameters. Because of her something was different this time around. Then they had given her choices.

Oppose them. Fight them as she had been doing all these many years. Destroy them, end the current cycle, but commit genocide and in the process kill herself.

"The crucible will not discriminate. All synthetics will be targeted."

If she chose to annihilate the Reapers, she would also wipeout all synthetic life. The geth would be massacred. What of the quarians who had uploaded the geth into their suits? Perhaps them, too. They said the survivors would be able to rebuild, but eventually new synthetics would be created. These synthetics would target their creators as in previous ages. Ultimately, she would only stop the Reaper's harvesting cycle, not the cycle of conflict between organics and synthetics. There was no stopping that, nor could she stop her own death. She was part synthetic, so she would die, as well.

She could surrender to them. Control them as the Illusive Man could not. Die, but live on in the enemy. She could become a Reaper.

"Seize control of the Reapers. We will be yours to direct and control as you see fit."

They said she would no longer be organic. The connection to her kind would be lost although she would be aware of their existence. She could control the Reapers though, stop them and send them away. She could end the current conflict and save the galaxy's masses. But if her connection to her kind was lost, what then of her humanity? Compassion. Love. Hope. Over the course of centuries, how would she not be corrupted by the Reaper's primary objective? Without the connection to her humanity what would maintain her focus on the galaxy's sentient species right to choose?

There was another alternative.

Submit to them. Synthesize organic and synthetic life. Give up her life to jump start the next stage of evolution.

"Add your energy to the crucible's. It is the ideal solution."

Organics and synthetics would become one. There would be no more conflict. They said that organics of previous cycles hadn't been ready before, but were ready now. They never explained why. They never explained how.

She had felt pushed towards the third option. Directed towards it as though it was the logical next step of organic life's evolution and the best way to end the 50,000 year cycle. The Reapers were not beyond the influence of this choice though. They had calculated that this was the only way that would complete their primary function—to end the conflict between organics and synthetics—but they did so while disregarding the fact that this monumental feat had already been accomplished in this cycle. The quarians and geth had made peace after almost three centuries of conflict. They were working together to restore balance to their home world, Rannoch. She was uncertain why this new variable had not been taken into consideration.

They had said that organics seek perfection through technology. That was not entirely true. What of spiritual pursuits? What of intellectual endeavors? What of artistic expression? Not all organics saw technology as the pinnacle of their highest potential.

Then there was the weight of dictating the course of evolution for every organic and synthetic being in the known universe. Every life form would be altered without consent. Free will gone, there would be no choice. An evolutionary path mandated by one individual.

"Do what you must."

There had been only one option where a warning had been given, but it was the only option that felt right to her. Her heart and mind had screamed defiantly at all three choices, she didn't want to die, but if she had to in order to stop the Reapers, then only one of them appealed to her instincts.

From the beginning her mission had been to stop the Reapers, there was no way she was going to become one of them. Too many variables existed; too many unanswered questions and she felt the eventual loss of her humanity would ultimately become a terrible price for the galaxy to pay. Like the Illusive Man who wanted to control them, but ended up as an indoctrinated pawn. His betrayal to humanity has been absolute and it was all done under the obscene effects of Reaper influence. She also didn't agree with force feeding an evolutionary path down the throat of the known galaxy. Life is woven within chaos. The merging of organic and synthetic life would not end the chaos as the Reapers had been created to do, it would just create another form of chaos. To assume that there was only one evolutionary pinnacle for organics and synthetics to achieve assumes that they were on converging developmental paths. She would not, could not, make that assumption for every life form in the galaxy. Saren had sought this end. He saw himself as the future, the fusion of organic and synthetic life comprising the strengths of both but the weaknesses of neither. But he had been perverted by the Reapers, just as the Illusive Man had been perverted, to think this way. For her, there was only one choice that was completely free of Reaper influence.

Three years ago, the Reapers had wanted to harvest her body. They said she was different and they sought to absorb her organic material. She was different because she never gave up; she never gave in and would never give herself up freely to them now. She would hold onto her humanity until her death because she still had hope. If organics differed now from the previous ages, then maybe they would be able to maintain the balance with synthetics. The quarians and geth had just stepped upon that path and she felt they deserved the chance to find unification. She still had faith. She believed, albeit sometimes with a small kick in the ass, that organics and synthetics could learn their own art of symbiosis just as the Normandy crew had done so successfully with EDI. The choice wasn't easy though because she also had guilt. EDI's relationship with Joker was of no less value than her relationship with Liara and with immeasurable regret she knew her decision would end both of them before their time.

"No matter what happens—you mean everything to me, Liara. You always will."

"Shepard, I… I am yours."

She said a silent prayer as she raised her pistol to the machine and sighted in the energy conduit. She had prayed not for herself, but for those whose lives she was about to end. She asked for peace so the sacrifices made now and before would have longstanding meaning. She said a reverent goodbye to the one who held her heart, who was bound to her soul and who had called to her across the ages. She had prayed that fate would allow them to unite once more, so when the time of grace arrived they could begin anew in the next life.

When her pistol fired on the machine she had expected instant death, but that didn't happen. Instead, there was only heat and a red fire that wrapped around her and choked her breathing so that she gasped and fought for life, for sanity, for escape.

Liara, I'm sorry. I wish…

She felt pain in her lungs once again as they fought for breath within the dusty, cold blackness. With each labored rise and fall of her chest, dirt and rubble shifted adding to the thickness of the air and the weight of the debris suffocating her. As she floated along the waves of fading images, the heaviness on her body began to recede and the pain numbing her mind eventually dissolved all coherent thought.

Then there was nothing.