**LOCATION UNKNOWN**
The parasite watched patiently as the large machine-like monsters eased closer to the galactic rim. The Gravemind of the Flood had been awaiting this opportunity for quite some time. The ancient ones had finally returned. The parasitic spore that was being used as the Gravemind's eyes began to vibrate, and then ruptured into thousands of fleshy particles that easily scattered with the solar wind. A signal resounded directly into the Gravemind, sending chills down his monstrous form. "We are coming." the signal called. Gravemind smiled, his form swelling with anticipation. He roared with some form of joy at the return of the Reapers, the heralds of galactic salvation. His massive form shook with the anticipation of the unity their arrival would bring. His plans and dreams would finally come into fruition.
"Children of the Flood, our day has come!" Gravemind roared, alerting all of the lesser forms to his awakening. They all turned as if to listen intently. "We are on the verge of a Galactic union! The day of our victory, of ultimate unity, and of universal peace is upon us!" the mighty parasite bellowed, sending his speech throughout the collective mind of the Flood. The forms below him shook as if hungry. Infection forms leaked acidic fluids onto the surface of Gravemind's antechamber as if to salivate. The Flood were hungry. Gravemind roared victoriously, opening the ceiling of his antechamber. With new found confidence, he released the Flood onto the surface of the unsuspecting planet known only as Zeiphos Prime. Soon the whole galaxy would become joined to him. Soon, he would have ultimate power.
Beyond Galactic Rim, 2186
The Reaper swarm approached the helpless Milky Way Galaxy, their systematic purge about to begin. Harbinger, and Sovereign before him, had warned the one called 'Shepard' that resistance is futile. The galaxy will be cleansed. For reasons none would be able to comprehend, the technology of the galaxy must be harvested. The Protheans had dubbed them "Reapers", not because of any supernatural belief in a face of death, but because it is what they did. The machines reaped the harvest of the galaxy once every 50,000 years. This cycle would be no different. This cycle would not be stopped.
"We are not the death of civilization, but by us the galaxy is saved. We are the salvation of its people, the cultivators of the galactic fields. Through us, all will be saved!" Harbinger called out to his brethren, exciting the swarm. "Soon, all shall become one." The ancient machine said. Harbinger's mechanical eyes stared into the very depths of the galaxy, as if it were attempting to glean some wisdom or send some foreboding message to the beings they sought to uplift. "We are coming for you. The Reapers are your salvation, now and forever." Harbinger called out, flooding the galaxy with its message. They were coming, and they could not be stopped.
Cerberus Command, 2186
The Illusive Man shuddered as the message played through his comm channel, a channel he had thought secure. "We are coming." A message so foreboding that it sent chills down his spine. All his worst-case scenarios and battle plans had anticipated this very moment, but suddenly the whole thing seemed surreal, as if it were all just a bad dream. The Illusive Man rubbed his hand over his plain, unassuming face. Silently, he tapped several keys on various panels and forwarded the message to Shepard. While not a believer in any particular faith, he silently asked that if there were any being watching over them, now is a good time to help.
Shepard's Wolf Pack, Unknown Planet, Geth Space, 2187
Commander Shepard waited anxiously for the Geth Platforms standing infront of him to reach consensus, a kind of agreement all Geth had to make in order to function. From simple trooper platforms to the hulking Clossus Platforms, all Geth much reach consensus before they can do anything. The three platforms before Shepard were specially constructed to translate the immense multitude of the Gestalt to him. The Gestalt, otherwise known as the Geth Collective, took the form of a panel of nine platforms capable of holding over ten-thousand Geth profiles each, and also were able to contact the Geth in their entirety. This is what they were doing now. Legion, who was able to guarantee Shepard and his flotilla safe passage beyond the Perseus Veil, explained that this process should not take longer than three galactic standard hours, or roughly five Earth hours. Shepard sat down as the Gestalt continued to deliberate, their Platforms standing idley as they silently communicated. "Commander, Geth think at the speed of light. For us to take this long on a decision is usually a good sign. It means we are weighing our options." Legion said, attempting to explain to Shepard the process of consensus. Legion had honestly never seem the Gestalt take so long to reach consensus, even though there were millions of Geth in the veil alone, excluding the 'Heretic' Geth that displayed violent tendencies toward organics. Finally, the platforms of the Gestalt lit up (literally) and shifted their gaze to Shepard. One by one, the Platforms kneeled and began to speak in unison. "Shepard. The Geth Gestalt has reached consensus. After careful deliberation and consultation, the Geth have ageed to give you our full support. Use it wisely, Commander, as it will dictate our future relationship with the Galactic community." After they finished speaking, the Gestalt plaftorms stood andshifted their gaze upward. "The Gestalt has adjourned its meeting. We bid you farewell." they called out. Then the platforms curled up and deactivated one by one in a dramatic fashion.
Shepard smiled. He had done the impossible. He had single handedly one over an entire race to his cause, in under twenty four hours. Shepard turned and faced his crew. They were all astonished. "Shepard Commander, the Gestalt has sent a Geth Dropship and a Dreadnought to join your Flotilla. They express their thanks for giving them the opportunity to fight against The Old Machines." Legion said. Shepard's smile got even bigger at the mention of Dreadnought. Shepard's flotilla was becoming a force to be reckoned with. "Now, time to call on an old friend." Shepard said as the Normandy disembarked. "Joker, plot a course for the Krogan DMZ. We're going to Tuchanka."