March 26, 2186 CE
Mexico City, Reaper-Controlled Territory
North America, Earth
Mexico City was once home to fourteen million people, a metropolis of gleaming and shiny skyscrapers, filled with life. It was a symbol of hope for Earth after the Third World War in the years 2078 to 2090, having gone from sprawling slum to one of the three jewels of North America (Mexico City, New York City, Vancouver).
The signature towers of Northern State Telecom and the 220-floor Vista Americana Hotel, along with many others, used to decorate the city. His city. The downtown area, world famous for its clubs and nightlife, once had been filled to the brim with the young and beautiful.
No longer.
Corporal Andre Ramirez of the Alliance Marine Corps' 5th Frontier Division (assigned to the defense of Elysium) had been on leave when it happened.
He had seen it all, in all its horror. Like a black plague that promised only death, misery, and destruction, they descended onto the home of millions.
How they bypassed the defense fleets, Ramirez did not know.
All he knew was that the invaders looked like the famed Sovereign, who had destroyed an entire fleet's worth of warships. And by God, they were doing worse to the people of Earth.
The screams of fear, pain and anguish filled the air that night, only interrupted by bombardments from the invading warships.
The local police and what little organized resistance present in Mexico City had been little more than a nuisance to the invaders. For every invading soldier you killed, more would take its place. They were an endless swarm, and getting killed by them was a much better choice than its alternative.
At only nineteen, Andre Ramirez was far too young to die. But that mattered not when they came. Age…sex…religion…race…it was all naught in their eyes.
But yet he could not help but wonder. Wonder if his parents, who lived in the countryside, were alright. Wonder if his younger sister, who was attending university in London, was alright. Wonder if anything would be different had they listened to Shepard. Wonder if this was to be the death knell of the human race.
And as he took his dying breath, lying on the cold metal floor of an unknown hotel, no solace came to him, only the dying cries of fellow resistance members and gunfire. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. No white flash…no, only an errant thought.
The Reapers had come.
Earth had fallen.
And there was nothing that could stop them.
That was how Corporal Andre Ramirez, Fifth Frontier Division, Alliance Marine Corps, died…and those were his last thoughts.
He would not be the first to die. Neither would he be the last. Not by a long shot.