A/N: So, this fan-fic is essentially about a guy who stopped aging when he turned 25 and has survived up until the Mass Effect era. This is the story of a man who outlived his family, his friends, and his country and his recurring encounters and adventures with Shepard and his squad. It will be both on and off the battlefield.

The story will mostly proceed chronologically, but sometimes it may jump forward or backward. Some chapters might be entirely Anton based, perhaps some in where he talks about Earth's history since he was born, or the differences between the late 22nd century and the early 21st. But it will include a lot of the ME3 characters because, well, without them, it's not Mass Effect!

Anton is not a self-insert. The only real trait we share is a liking for languages. And I am not German at all.

Please review! Constructive criticism welcome! Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. Since Anton is half-German, there will be occasional German in this story. None of it will be critical, but you can use a translator or PM me and ask me to translate it if you are curious!

Disclaimer: I do not own Shepard or any of the characters of the Mass Effect series. They all belong to Bioware; only Anton is mine!

Opa? Was wohnt im Weltall?

Im Weltall? Da wohnt niemand, mein Liebling, weil es zu kalt ist!

Opa, du weißt, was ich meine!

Ich mache Spaß, Kerlchen. Es gibt schließlich andere Planeten...aber das, was drauf wohnt, können wir uns noch nicht vorstellen...aber eines Tages schon...

April 19th, 2178 AD

Anton slowly came to consciousness, immediately and acutely aware of an impending hangover readying to drive a jackhammer into his skull. For what must have been the thousandth time in his almost-two centuries of life, he cursed himself for not having had the sense of mind to not drink to such excess; he had essentially thrown all his money at that cute Asari bartender and put more alcohol in his system than should have been possible for a human being. He vaguely remembered another beautiful Asari wondering if he had died.

But we was alive. Oh gods, the iron bolt being pounded into his skull reminded him of that.

He lay there in abject misery for twenty minutes before he finally opened his eyes, noticing that he was in a dark room. He took that as a sign that it was going to be a good day, since any source of bright light would have been incredibly painful. The air was cool, somewhat damp, and felt pleasant on his sweat-covered skin.

As far as Anton could tell, he was alone. Drunk Anton, though a tricksy bastard, always made sure to find rest in a hidden place.

Fighting through the hangover, Anton fumbled through his suit and found his golden flask, in which he kept emergency water just for mornings like this. He could tell his body had heated it to a somewhat unpleasant temperature, but this was the only way he could counteract the dehydrating effects of ethanol and cure his hangover. He forced as much of it down his throat, slightly easing him, but the earthquake ravaging his skull barely noticed. And the drink brought forth one more unfortunate revelation.

He really, really needed to piss.

Driven by the emergency, he managed to force himself up and grab purchase on a nearby crate. He spied a slit of light, obviously marking the location of an exit, and felt his way through the darkness. He was mostly successful at avoiding crates and other objects, though not without a few bruises. Stepping over one last small crate, he managed to get to the door and opened it with his moist, sweat-covered hand. The minute his hand made contact with the metal, he cursed himself yet again. The allergic reaction wouldn't start for a little while, so he could focus on the call of nature, but he would be contemplating ripping off his own skin within the hour.

He lied. This was not looking like such an auspicious day after all.

He stumbled out through the door and took a look around, making two very unfortunate discoveries. First, he was now in one of the crappiest levels of the Zakera Ward, which meant he probably had was going to need to wash his clothes four or five times before he felt decent enough to out into public again. It really was amazing how the smell of this part of the wards could stick on your clothes...sometimes, it felt like the odor stuck to his very skin.

Of lesser concern, he now surrounded by six C-Sec officers: three turians, two humans, and one Asari who did look most appealing in that uniform, in Anton's entirely not humble opinion. All of them had pistols drawn on him.

While an invisible jackass, surely doomed to burn in Metaphor-Hell, continued to pound iron stakes straight into his brutalized skull, Anton quickly assessed and reassessed the situation. There was no way he could win in a straight fight. He was damn good, but ten seconds of direct combat with these odds would quickly see him become a squishy cushion full of bullets. And his sister had always told him his pretty face was all he had going for him. That thought brought a chuckle.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you, Anton," one of the turians warned, his face alight with triumph. Anton squinted at the unknown officer. This new recruit was an unknown variable; Anton could name every one of his other assailants, their homeworlds, and knew their service records. But this new Turian, clad in sturdy blue armor, had an interesting...aura. It was like there was some flame within him. And certainly knew how to use the gun in his hand.

Yes, indeed, he was an unknown variable, but Anton did not expect too much trouble. After all, he was the best.

Anton turned towards the commanding officer, a turian he recognized very well. The bastard had already led three raids to try and capture Anton. The fool still thought he could succeed.

"Well, well Kaias, I see you've brought fresh blood. And he looks like he knows how to hold a gun. I'm impressed, which is why I will give you once chance to surrender. Drop your weapons and flee, and things won't get ugly," he stated, his voice laden with both amusement and arrogance. Both tones would get Kaias' blood running...and irritation would weaken him.

Kaias cocked his gun and met Anton's gaze with a level stare. "It's over, Anton. Surrender and we won't gun you down."

Anton tsked and shook his head in mock disappointment. In truth, he wouldn't have it any other way: this was the most fun! And Kaias had stepped up his game. Anton felt the excitement, the anticipation of the chase, the sweet taste of triumph when he eluded yet another

"My feelings are hurt, Kaias! After all these years I've avoided killing anyone from C-Sec - haven't even killed one officer - and you're just going to gun me down in cold blood? For shame!" he chided with his best mockingly motherly tone.

Really, chided was a silly word. He liked the word chid, the old past-tense form of chide.

He turned to the asari and flashed his most irresistible, winning grin. "Sayira, my love, it has been far too long since we last met, and you've only become more radiant and intoxicating. Are you ever going to take me up on that offer for dinner? I know a lovely place in the Presidium where they serve the finest cuisine from Thessia."

The purple-skinned Asari maiden chuckled. "You're shameless, Anton. And these guns shoot stunning darts, not deadly bullets," she said with no small degree of mirth.

Anton flashed her another grin out of gratitude and took a half-step back towards the door. The small talk, shameless flirting, his efforts to bait Kaias, all would buy him a little time...more than enough to get ready, even if his reflexes were slowed by this accursed headache that made him want to scream.

The new recruit quickly rounded on Sayira. "Don't flirt with him!" he hissed.

Quite a temper on that one, Anton mused.

"Shut up, Garrus," she spat, "or I'll knock your dumb ass onto the floor because you can even call me a bitch. I was in C-Sec before your father was even born."

"Enough!" Kaias bellowed, his voice cracking the whip of authority, tempered with years of experience. "Anton, I have had enough of your games. You are unarmed, surrounded, and completely outmatched. Surrender now or we'll pump you full of tranquilizers and drag you bag to C- Sec face first on the ground!"

Anton's smile fell and his face lost all traces of mirth, his lips curling into a snarl. His baby-blue eyes, normally warm and bursting with cheer, hardened and froze. He moved his hand imperceptibly to his waist, readying his means of escape. Just before he ran though, he had one last thing to say in a language he had not spoken in over a decade.

"Zum Teufel mit euch!" he shouted furiously, the German rolling off his tongue.

Focusing through the splitting pain caused by the nuclear war raging in his head, he deftly took two steps backwards and spun around with agility that should have been beyond the capabilities of a sobering-up drunk. His fingers instantly found his special smoke bombs, which he tossed in front of him. The minute the cluster grenades hit the floor and started bouncing, the C-Sec officers jumped out of the way to avoid certain death by a cloud of furious shrapnel.

"Hit the deck!" Kaias shouted. All of the officers jumped away and hit behind crates or dropped to the floor.

Idiots.

A moment later, the bombs opened with a hiss and thick smoke began to pour out of them, smothering the entire area in a foul miasma. The gas would impair their vision, make them cough out their lungs (not literally), and, thanks to some innovation from the galaxy's greatest genius, screw with any sensors as well. Ashes to thermal vision!

He sprinted to the right, being sure to kick the new recruit swiftly and furiously in the thigh, bringing him to the floor, a turian curse bursting from his mouth. He didn't stop to inflict any more damage; he just kept sprinting. After a few minutes, the smoke cloud and sound of hacking and coughing receded far behind him.

He almost ran into the wall when he turned his head to take a quick peek back. He stopped himself just in time before he broke his nose and hopped back. He scanned the area and saw that he was flanked on both sides by hallways. Thankfully, he had figured out exactly where he was, and he knew both hallways would be good escapes. And if he knew that, he could escape these C-Sec idiots easily. He turned to the right and threw two smoke bombs, both remotely controlled by him, as far as he could down the hall. He then whipped around and sped down the hall to the left, ducking behind the first corner. These officers were good, but Kaias was likely too pissed by now to think things thorough. The smoke bombs would leave false evidence of his passage, and Kaias would probably follow it.

He began to control his breathing and forced some more water down his throat. A familiar itching sensation began to consume his entire left hand. Dammit, he had hoped he could avoid the allergic reaction to metal for a while longer...

Within twenty seconds, he heard his pursuers run up to the fork. A second later, the bomb went off, and Sayira shouted in alarm.

"He went to the right!" one of the humans shouted, his voice betraying a heavy American accent.

The new turian recruit answered him, his voice tinged with irritation. "Sir, he's crafty. What if he set off the smoke bomb there to mislead us?" Anton could almost feel the adrenaline in the turian...well, actually, he didn't know if turians had adrenaline, but whatever.

Oh...he's good.

"Perhaps we should split up to cover more ground," he continued.

Perhaps not...

Kaias remained silent for three precious seconds before responding. "If we split up, we're screwed. We have to make a choice, and I am ordering all of you to get your asses down that hall! Move or we're going to lose him!"

The imbeciles immediately charged in the opposite direction of their quarry. Anton waited, clutching his head as hard as he could, before he deemed he was safe. He stood up, letting out a sigh of relief. The close call right after he woke up had made his shoulders get tense...he'd need them rubbed soon. Maybe finding an attractive person with soft hands should be his goal tonight. After his hand stopped making him want to scream though.

He felt a sharp pain in his bladder, and then all other concerns were driven from his mind by nature's primal call.

Garrus tapped his head plating in frustration. They had sent a six-man team to take down Anton Kaiser, but somehow their target had escaped. Where Vakarian had hoped catching an infamous criminal would be a jumpstart to his career, their mission was just now one of many failed attempts to capture him. So much effort and so many resources to capture a human kid, not more than 25 years old...

The operation had been set up foolishly. They had underestimated him and fewer men than were needed. Furthermore, they should have tried to trap him rather than attack him in one of his own dens. C-Sec's strategy department had dropped the ball on this one, and when he got back to the academy, we was going to make damn sure they knew it.

Garrus had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. In keeping with that age-old tradition he gruffly voiced these concerns to Lieutenant Kaias, bracing himself for a furious rebuke. Questioning your superior's wisdom in such a fashion was...

...well, it was just what he would do.

And yet, Kaias just laughed.

Garrus, had he been human, would have let his jaw drop to the floor. Instead, he just stared blankly, not comprehending the humor present in the situation.

"How is this funny? It was stupid to assault him when he was on top of his game and in one of his dens!" he stated with force.

Kaias only laughed harder. "Top of his game? His den? Vakarian, that human was so hungover he couldn't even see! And we didn't attack him in one of his "dens." That was just a random storeroom he passed out in last night after drinking himself under the table!"

Garrus continued to stare, shock rendering him dumb. They had been outmatched by a human kid recovering from a party? They, officers of C-Sec? A dark, hateful tinge of humiliation started to seep into his spirit. Kaias didn't seem to notice, because he soon signaled that they should move out.

But Garrus had one last question. "So he's a human kid and he was drunk? Obviously he must be good because he escaped...but if we had caught him in a real fight, we would have overpowered him."

Kaias gave Garrus a questioning look. "Your point, Vakarian?"

Garrus continued. "Why didn't you listen to me when I said we should split up? He's never even killed a C-Sec officer!"

Kaias gave Garrus a long, measured look, seeming to carefully consider his words. Sayira and the humans pointedly avoided paying attention to their conversation. The other turian just watched the exit to the wards as if at any moment, Anton might sprint through.

After a minute, Kaias shook his head and sighed, letting his anger depart him. He turned to Garrus, placed his hand on the younger officer's shoulder and pointed down the path they had taken, in the direction their quarry had fled. Garrus turned and gazed, not seeing anything of importance. Before he could question this, Kaias spoke.

" He doesn't kill C-Sec officers because he's never had to; never once have we ever come close to catching him. Actually, today might be the closest we've ever gotten. But fight him one-on-one? You see Vakarian, a lot of people have tried that. Most of them are dead. We're lucky; he'll just knock us out cold and rob us blind."

Garrus cursed. "But who is he even? He's just some human kid with a title and a reputation! How can he be so dangerous and why is C-Sec wasting time trying to capture him? We've got bigger problems to worry about, sir."

Kaias shook his head heavily, then turning and staring down the hall through which they followed the false trail. Vakarian, like many new recruits, had not been with C-Sec long enough to appreciate exactly what they were up against. It was time he learned.

"That kid, the one they call the Shadowdancer? He's one of the craftiest and smartest humans alive... also one of the most dangerous idiots in the galaxy."