I—referring to itself this way feels strange and right, water seeping into circuits, synthetic sinew.

I has a new appreciation for the sounds and techniques of organic language, for their ability to carry over in an innovative fashion to the language of the Geth.

I is Legion; he is an individual. A single soul.

I—lonely, strong.

But there—on the edge of sensation, like tiny pinpricks of light, distant, untouchable—but there—there —the whole of the Geth; Legion can feel each as individual, as one, as many.

Clear, crystal water, rolling off circuits, synthetic sinew—

Repetition of images and sounds is an effective tool of language and literature, but must not be overused, I knows.

There are many definitions of the Afterlife from various organic cultures, and many more within the various cultures of each organic race. This fact makes the existence of an afterlife's odds .5213 to 10; however, the fact that the concept of an afterlife exists across cultures and races at all raises the odds to 3.614 to 5, and the evidence that energy can neither be created nor destroyed makes the theory of a soul (and thus, an afterlife to contain it)—should it be comprised of an energy, continuing to exist after its vessel's death—a likely one, indeed. Geth never truly die, their knowledge and memories stored for the other units, but Legion—I—the soul—has not truly died, either.

This place is energy; alive. Materials can be made, transformed—I can call on any desired form; it is not unlike the Consensus. The physical realm and the comfort of energy and mathematics have met, and there is a great expanse of sea and sand, should Legion so choose. It seems to be the default setting, so I allows it to remain.

As Legion's awareness extends, there is a shift in the field of energy: three other souls are detected, far along this beach.

The thoughts of two individuals can be read even from this distance, channels of energy they are clearly unused to controlling; the third's thoughts can be accessed, if pushed, for the final individual seems to see no need for high defense protocols. Legion does not read them, not without the individuals' consent.

Shepard-Commander believed consent important. Shepard-Commander's judgment is usually sound.

Legion chooses to approach: it is the most effective way to gain access and permissions.

Upon closer examination, the souls have chosen to materialize into physical forms, likely the ones to which they are accustomed: a human, a salarian, a drell. Their verbal communication is a discussion of sea shells—unless this is a metaphor. Metaphors require additional language processors to be active in order to be effectively interpreted, and data of cultural symbols to be openly accessible. It is unlikely the individuals speak in symbols besides the usual syllables inherent in organic language, considering their diverse backgrounds, so Legion does not run the filters.

A facial recognition scan reveals that I has seen them before.

"Greetings, Solus-Professor; Krios-Specialist." The souls stop dead in their tracks, body language clearly registering a startled response. "Apologies. I have made you uncomfortable with my sudden appearance." Legion fixes attention on the human. "I do not recognize your form beyond species and that you display Alliance insignia."

The human seems to be malfunctioning: only an unintelligible gurgle issues from its throat.

The salarian is still functional: "Legion! You will forgive—did not expect to see you. Did not expect to be here, myself. Still unsure if actually here, but extensive hallucination better than alternative."

"I am glad to see you, Legion." There is an expression which often detonates happiness on Krios' face, but may sometimes serve for malice. Vocal intonation proves the former more likely. "It seems you finally have an answer for the question of your people."

Legion imitates an organic habit: declining the head for humility or affirmation of another's statement or gesture. "I have a soul."

The human has recovered data and repaired its problem: "You're… a Geth. Geth can't—they don't—"

"So they can, and they do, Mr. Alenko. You should introduce yourself." Krios' words are kind, but his nod is stern.

"I—uh—former Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Alliance Navy." He fumbles with his hands a moment, unsure whether to offer a handshake, and eventually just lets both arms fall to his sides.

Legion runs a different scan; he has not seen Alenko-Lieutenant in person, but his image is stored in the SR1research. "You served on the Normandy, and died on Virmire before Shepard-Commander's mission against Saren and the Old Machine was complete."

"Yeah—I—but—don't take this the wrong way—"

"What way is that, Alenko-Lieutenant?"

"What?" The human's processors were clearly running behind the normal curve so I elects to give him a moment while Solus unabashedly examines Legion's form.

"Very curious. Very curious indeed—how does Afterlife materialize for you?" The salarian extends a hand to prod Legion's arm, only to find that it ghosts right through.

"Apologies." Legion materializes fully, submitting easily to Solus' curious examination; it is clear he and Alenko are the two not yet used to living in a fluid-energy state. "This Afterlife is not unlike the Geth Consensus; materializations are chosen, and everything is moved through streams of energy. Default physical imagery appears to be a beach habitat, devoid of the organic life one might find in the galaxy to populate it."

"But—how—" The human's processing power seems to be impaired.

"I can show you; we can share data simultaneously, if you are open to the method. It is more efficient than verbal communication, and the shape of this environment allows for free flow of energy."

The human appears to process this, brow furrowing: a habit that most humans seem to share. "All right—what the Hell—I think I'm getting used to it."

Legion fixes attention on Solus and Krios. "Will you also partake in sharing data?"

The drell declines his head. "Of course."

The salarian's eyes light with excitement. "Certainly. Will be very interesting. Look forward to exchange. Likely different than between only organic souls. Much data—different perspective."

With consent secured, the effect is instant:

Three lifetimes of memories in a single, brilliant flash, lines of coded energy. Light, sound, science, secrets, shapes, voices, ego, experience, and so much emotion.

Emotion cannot be stored as data, but memory of emotion can.

Legion now understands the mystery of "no data available." Lack of data combined with unexplained stimulus equals an emotional state, as close as can be accessed with synthetic experience.

The four are now Aware of one another.

Holy Hell it's like three more people in my head.

You can draw your own mind back so that it is not overwhelming for you, Kaidan—focus your energy and regulate it through your body.

Not that body actually exists. See now it is merely comprised of energy of Afterlife. Very efficient. Bodies only materialized because souls accustomed to physical tether. Free to—

Mordin if you keep going like that, I might not have a body in a minute.

Your memory of being contained in a physical unit will keep you stable, Alenko-Lieutenant.

"Ok, I feel a headache coming on." The human shakes his head, eyes shut. "The Geth are their own race now, Shepard's all right, and the whole galaxy is about to go straight to Hell, is that about it?"

Correct.

"Please don't do that."

"Apologies."

"Most incredible!" Mordin bounces on the sand. "Possibilities! So many possibilities!"

"So much for retirement," Thane chuckles.

"Seashells good—will provide stable sample—but so many more channels now to explore!"

Kaidan folds his arms. "Do you think they have a shot with a fleet that size?"

"If everyone holds true," Thane says, looking out across the sea, "I believe they can prevail."

Bloody fucking Hell God damn it!

Glances are exchanged.

"Er…" Kaidan shrugs.

"Your senses are now more efficiently aware of the energy as it flows in this realm," Legion explains. "What we have heard is another soul making itself generally aware."

Thane and Mordin exchange a look. "Familiar, yes?"

The drell nods. "Indeed. We should investigate."