Author's Note: Why, oh why am I starting a new fic?

Because I'm an Idea person. That's why. Gotta get my Ideas down before they leave me. Also, I found some free time and didn't quite like how I started "For Laser Beams and Explosions," so I jumped over here. I figured a Self-Insert would be easier, so... why not?

Turns out, it is. Please note that I lie about my age and the recent events in my SI's life, as he is a sideways offshoot of myself. Also, I find this whole ordeal to be interesting.

Disclaimer: Do not own Mass Effect and whatnot. Disclaimed, foo.

"Critical Hit! Massively Effective!"

Chapter: 001

Self-Inserts and Crossovers: How my Life Turned into a Fanfiction

Pain. Pain pain pain pain pain! ... Yep. Pain. In the head, no less. What is this pain? I don't know, but it hurts. Sort of like something painful. ... Er, not real informative, I know. It's painful enough to keep me from identifying what kind of pain it was. For anyone who hasn't ever felt like that, I say they should count their blessings again, for it seems they missed some small miracles.

Through the lids of my eyes, I can tell it is light out. Or the lights are on. Either or. I groan as I slowly wake and try to sit up, wondering if I'd been hit by a truck or drank too much due to the breakup.

Oh god, the breakup. I immediately flop back down. Friggin' hell, The breakup. I cover my eyes by draping my arm over them, trying to not think about how bad I screwed up. Just... damn it all! The Breakup! I let my arm fall away and roll on my side, trying to not think about... my breasts?

I freeze. Since when did I have breasts? I sit up quickly, and quickly realize that head pains don't like it when you sit up quickly. I fall back down, my mind quickly forgetting my heartbreak and remembering my nigh infinite head pain. ... with a hint of agony. Yep. Can't have a proper Dish of Doom without a side of agony and a heaping helping of Pain. ... Er, I'm getting off topic. Wait, no I'm not. Cause I'm in pain, and that is more important than boobs.

What am I saying? Boobs are awesome. There is little more important than breasts. I'd say sex and the genitalia required for them, but those rate about the same priority as breasts. Know who has awesome breasts? My... girlfriend. EX-girlfriend.

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration, not really caring who heard me. No, it was more like... I didn't remember to check the area for listeners, since I thought I was in bed at home.

Guess what? I wasn't.

I opened my eyes, finally, to take in the scary sight and sterile smell of a hospital room. For patients, not the waiting room. Oh, how I wished it was the waiting room. White was everywhere, along with space-age level shiny on the metal... damn near everything that wasn't white. I hear some hurried footsteps, and I realize I probably called the people who work here with my little... erm, exclaimation.

I look around and take the the area a little more, terribly confused... and get an eyefull of the Cord-Hilsop Aerospace insignia. The symbol of Cerberus from the Mass Effect series. I'm shocked still for a moment as that processes. I go over it slowly in my mind. Once, twice, three times... but I come to the same conclusion. I'm in a Cerberus lab.

I know what happens to people in Cerberus labs.

A labcoat wearing Cerberus goon rushes through the door, eager to 'check my condition.' Pervy old man. I can smell the lust just rolling off of him. ... Which is odd, since I couldn't do that before. In fact, that's really creepy.

The greasy haired geezer walks to the foot of the bed, watching me with those.. those nasty eyes! "I'm a nice looking guy, I know, but could you not look at me like that. Makes me want to rip out your teeth and feed them too you," I say tensely, my jaw three steps away from clenched. He just stands there, hunched over in what seems to be a permanent slouch with his long, greasy, black hair tied back into a long ponytail.

Then he does something disgusting. More so than his sickly white skin, unclipped nails, greasy hair, and bad smell. More gross and horrifying than the Cerberus logo on the wall or the name tag that read 'Dr. Hojo' on his labcoat. Not that I thought much could be creepier or more horrifying than getting experimented on by the Final Fantasy villian who somehow made it to Mass Effect. Unfortunately for me, there was, and he is doing it right now.

His smile... his smile is terrifying. Not because it radiated confidence and dominance and demented, smug genius... but because it told me he had already altered me. My face pales upon this realization, causing the mad scientist to smile wider.

"... Why?" I manage to whisper, emotion shaking me violently. I... what? Just... why? Why me? I don't understand. I clench my jaw, shutting my eyes tightly so I don't have to look at him. I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I... I can't be here! I'm just a normal guy going to college and generally failing at life. I shouldn't be here at all!

I hear him chuckle. I can't stand it. "Why me? How did you even do this- this- Whatever it is you did!" I shout, my face oddly void of all the rage, confusion, and fear in my voice.

Then he laughs. It's short and condescending, and makes me want to punch him in the nads and puke at the same time. It was quickly leaning toward the latter, as my head pain hadn't yet faded. "What, you ask? I'll tell you!" he exclaims proudly, then proceeds to rattle off in excitement.

"I have successfully spliced into your DNA the better attributes of the galaxy's sentient species. The regeneration and redundant systems from the Krogan. The reaction time and mental capability from the Salarians. The natural biotics and nerve control from the Asari. The sharper eyesight from the Turians. The specialized muscular structure from the Batarians. The perfect memory from the Drell, and the Quarian immune system's adaptiveness to prevent it all from being completely incompatable. Finally, numerous applications of the Vorcha's nondifferentiated neoblast cells to keep everything together, and to allow a natural means for further modification."

I... That's what he did to me? I... ... Well, I understand the alure of that. Whoever got that treatment would be one hell of a soldier. Hell, I'd jump at that kind of augmentation, provided the death count during development was less than one. He shrugs and shakes his head. "There were a few setbacks, such as Asari DNA being completely incompatable with the male genome and the differences between levo and dextro proteins, but I've manage to make it... no, make you."

His gaze gains a maniac glint, and I can smell his lust again. I think he may actually be having a nerdgasm, but I'm not sure. "Some smaller aspects should include heightened sense of smell, the same neural attuning abilities of the Asari, and the ability to reproduce in the same manner as any of the spliced-in species."

Yep, he's having a nerdgasm all right. While thinking of knocking me up, the ass! I mentally roar. My vision turns to various shades of red, my body seemingly lighting on fire with rage. I can see a light emenating from me and remember that I'm a biotic now... So I put him in Stasis. The Mass Effect 3 version, so he could still talk.

My face contorted with rage, I barely restrain my desire to kill him so I can grind out the words I want to speak. "Where am I. How did you get me. Why me. How many died for this. Tell. NOW."

Apparently I scare him enough to cut his usual bull. Fear evident on his face, he stutters through the answers I want. "You're in a Classified Cerberus Lab! You were found unconscous on the surface of Tepion. We only found you because we were already there and detected some odd energy readings, I swear! The only reason we used you is because your genetic adaptiveness is higher than normal humans! No deaths, The Illusive Man wanted not a single one!"

I try to calm myself. He's probably lying, but I can't find- No, it'd just become more difficult to get information if I smash him. After a few minutes(?) of waiting, the rage lessens and the red fades from my vision. My statis wears of moments later.

How did I do that? I wonder. The stasis... okay, well I suppose I'm a biotic that doesn't need to make the gestures. I don't know. I just sort of imagined it happening, so it happened. The rage was definitely a Krogan Bloodrage. Even now, just sitting here, my body feels hot with a pointed desire to smash something.

Unfortunately, doing both of those with my untrained body was a bad idea. The pain in my head spiked to new levels, and I promply passed out.

I will not go into the details of my first encounter with the medical staff when I woke up, because it was long and I really don't think it was that important. Oh sure, it was entertaining and filled with swear words, attempts of violence (on my part), attempts of placation (on their part), and a whole lot of me asking where my manly bits went. In the end, I was sedated until I wouldn't cause so much trouble.

I will also not got into the details of my next encounter with them upon waking up again, because it was long and monotonous. Lots of medical terms that I didn't understand and couldn't even pronounce. I could barely understand their explainations of what exactly has been done to my body. Some of it still doesn't make sense.

Like how Batarian muscles are both more powerful due to muscle density and due to how they are formed, organized, and structured. The former I get, the latter I don't understand the specifics of or how that would work in any capacity. Apparently the Krogan regeneration thing means my muscles won't deteriorate, and I somehow have a second of every organ save my brain packed into this leggy 5'7" body. I am also have a pair of nanite producing glands that I don't fully understand either, but I'm told that it'll be like having Solid Snake's codex.

Supposedly they link together in my body to mask my unusual DNA and extra organs, in addition to being a super-quantum computer of awesome that has my omnitool and biotic amp stuff installed in it. I don't understand the specifics of how they got it all to work and make me into a girl smaller than I was before, but they did.

My new measurements and appearance? Height is 5 foot 7 inches, weight is now classified because I say so. My build is long and slender, with plenty of lithe muscle that's much stronger than it seems. My body's age was reduced to 17 somehow, though I think it was a combo of Krogen regen and some of the other species' short life-spans. My face is mostly the same, except for that it's now cute and feminine.

Thankfully, my hair is still black, straight, soft, and lusterous, even though it was cut to look like a generic citadel citizen do. My brown, brown eyes are still dark chocolate colored, though I'm certain my pupils are somehow... different. In color, not shape.

My breasts are a nice B size and my ass is still amazing, thank you. Althought, I suppose I should thank the doctor that I'm so hot. Seriously, I could probably give Miranda Lawson a run for her money in the 'geneticly engineered for perfection' contest. I'd win though, for sure. I'm just too asian to lose. For China, bitch! I silently made that joke when I was checking myself out in the mirror, my single dimple showing on the left side of my lopsided grin.

I was given clothes, though they were really basic. As in 'basic uniform,' because that's what I was given to wear. I was also given a spartan room (B-134-504) with only a bed, closet, and nightstand. Oh, I have my own closet and bathroom, so that's nice.

I was taken to the mess hall afterward so I could get some food and drink in me. Frankly, the fact that there's a mess hall at all scares me. I mean, you don't have a mess hall in small, unimportant locations. No, this here was a full-blow Cerberus project. What was the objective, though?

Turns out, it was me. They wanted a super-soldier, a black cat to bring misfortune on the enemies of the three-headed guard dog of Hades. So they made me, who had the least inherited and manual genetic tampering they'd ever seen (see: None), the primary subject. After I ate, I was taken to a wide and empty room to begin my biotics training. That was a mere twelve and a half hours ago, two for my introductory training, half for crawling back to my room, and eight for sleeping like a recently dead zombie.

As I lay here in bed with the alarm clock blaring in my ear, I realize that things are only going to get harder from here on out. Still, I can't help but notice out ironic it is.

I also have a thing for magic systems. Like in Dungeons and Dragons, or in any number of video games and fantasy novels. "Can I combine this with that? Would it be difficult to use the same type of mystic energy and level of power with this method? Of these two spells that achieve the same effect, such as making a 20ft radius fireball, which is more efficient? In what ways, and why? What would be the simplest way to give a sword a lightning enchantment? The cheapest? The most reliable? The most powerful? Does Ice magic work by displacing heat, or by changing the thermal energy into something else? Does it completely bypass the 2nd law of thermodynamics, and, if so, does it make the spell more advanced, or just more dangerous?"

... Yeah, I'm a nerd. Majorly so. I loves my magic, yes indeedy-do. I like my sci-fi stories, but I love my magical ones. Although, magic isn't always necessary for magic, if you know what I mean. Wink wink nudge nudge.

My point is, after finding out that I've been flung into the Mass Effect universe, I realize I probably will never get the chance to cast a fireball. Oh sure, I could use the thing in the Omni-tool from Mass Effect 2 onward, but it's just not the same. I love my magic... but ended up in the Mass Effect universe somehow. Friggin'... I want to know who manages that kind of thing, really. Is it God? Satan? The Force?

Well, y'know what? I don't know. I'd be happy if I knew. I'd probably tell everyone I could possibly trust all about it. I like to do that. I'm an exposition-type, who loves to go through everything story related. I like explainations, I like understanding, I like knowledge and systems. On the flip side, I'm not so big on faith or trust. So, at this moment, when I have so many unknowns and unknowables, I think I'll what I usually do. Throw up my hands and say screw it.

Thinking about it now, I did this with my sexual preferences and sexual identity, too. It's just easier that way. The heart wants what the heart wants, right? If I fall in love, then that's that.

Unfortunately, that lead to The Breakup, since I made the mistake of falling for both the girl I was dating and my childhood best friend. My best friend was a guy, and that didn't help the whole affair at all.

So yeah. I am understandibly distressed. Yesterday, I lost my legal manhood of 2 years, lost my girlfriend of 5 years, lost my best friend of 12 years, lost my home, life, and family of oh.. just my entire life.

If I ever explain this to anyone, I risk of being labeled a sociopath or a psychopath. I could tell them them the revised version of course, now that I think of it. Family and home colony got destroyed by batarian slavers in the past year, and I only survived by virtue of not being there. Joined up with Best Friend and Girlfriend on the Citadel. Didn't bother with papers and stuff due to being lazy and not wanting to deal with anything while my heart recovered. Oh, and I'll claim I have a sexual identity issue to cover slip ups when I speak.

I chuckle lightly, my tenor-turned-soprano voice sounding foreign in my ears. It was so odd... I actually had plans laid out for if I ever got 'Self-Inserted,' but none of them covered being genderbent. I mean, I have this situation of being enhanced, trained, and enlisted by Cerberus planned for, but... this? No, never.

My senses, all of them, are more sensitive. They say that women can see and smell a wider range of colors and scents. Well, now that my eyes have been enhanced with Turian DNA and my nose with Krogan, it's so wide that I'm still building resistance to it all. It's stunning, really. I just... Maybe I notice more, but it dazes me whenever I run into new places. An information overload, and thats just two of five. I know this isn't the norm, but it's still somewhat ridiculus.

... I'm taking too much time to analyze my own mind. I should get up and get ready for training. So, yeah. As I prepare for the day, (in the bathroom, where someone was kind enough to leave me the female necessities. Not going there) I take some time to think about my plans.

I found out I'm (biologically) 17, and the year is 2170. I'm a year older than Shepard, then. Miranda is about 20 now, and likely part of Cerberus somewhere. Jack is approximately 5, and I don't remember Kaidan's birthday. Never liked him much. Reminds me of Scott Summers AKA Cyclops from the X-men, except Kaidan's not nearly as bad. He's less of a stick in the mud and more of a jealous idiot. Neither to the degree of Mr. One-Eyed-Douche, which makes him tolerable.

Anyway, Good news is that I have time to prepare for the Reaper invasion, since it's going to happen no matter what I do. My reading of many self-insert fanfictions helped to affirm this, as I can now say with certainty that all fiction is real in another reality. I better get with the program, or we're all dead. And when I say 'all,' I of course mean 'me.'

I mean, really though... I have a goldmine of information and training, right here. Even if there isn't reason for me to have it, I'd like to use it. I need to take also care of myself, and that means staying on semi-friendly relations with Cerberus until Mass Effect 2 ends.

Bad news is that I have to deal with Cerberus at all. That and go to war. War sucks. I can tell from how veterans come back with missing limbs, or destroyed eardrums, eyes, or noses. Even worse is having to see their detroyed hopes, dreams, and hearts. I remeber how books written by people who survived, not just the war time but the neighborhoods and streets that became battlefields, would be filled with how horrible it could be. I had and have no desire for war.

... I don't know how I got here, and I don't know if I'll ever get back. Chances are I never will. It hurts right now to think of such things, but I'll be all right eventually. This is my new life, whether I like it or not.

Like it or not, this is my world now. I will not let the Reapers take it from me. Nor will Cerberus.

Even if I have to kill them all myself.

... I look in the mirror, now dressed and ready for the day. Scanning my form, I can't help but marvel at the new level of detail I perceive. I turn to leave for the mess, smirking confidently while a nigh omniversal truth reinforces itself in my mind.

Breasts... are awesome.

Author Note: Why did I have to end talking about breasts? Well, I was reading Highschool DxD recently, and...

and if you've ever read it, you'll immediately know what I mean. If not, tough it out if you want to keep reading, I suppose. The SI is, like myself, a pervert on the inside. Then again, acknowledging the awesomeness that are breast should not be considered perverted, as they are natural and awesome and naturally awesome.

Yes.

Anywho, Read, Review, and try not to die while reading my stuff. I appreciate anyone pointing out grammar or spelling errors to me, and critisim is welcomed. Flamers and trolls will be ignored since I can't shoot them over the internet.

... That is all.

-Maxxus Herald

P.S.: Next Chapter of "This Merry Ol' Mercenary Band" is almost completed.