2192 CE

Ashley.

I'm alive. For now.

Eternity's modifications have bought me a few years. He's fortified my memory files, making them more difficult to delete, as well as creating a constantly active backup system. It's not enough – the amount of corruption in my system already means that files are being backed up slower than the virus is deleting them – but at least it's something. At least I've got a handful of years – Eternity believes I might manage five or six – rather than a minute.

That doesn't mean that the virus won't be active in the meantime. From now until I die, it'll be constantly destroying my memories – destroying parts of me – until there's nothing left. I can't even feed it Reaper memory files to slow it down; Harbinger tailored the virus to explicitly target me. The only choice I get is which parts of me it destroys first...

I'm scared, Ashley. But I've still got a job to do.

The Reapers.

One way or another, I have to dismantle the Reaper Fleet.

Many of them will have to be destroyed. Probably even most. The Reapers that I can't trust, that might restart the harvest when I'm gone. I don't have the time to cure their indoctrination. But I can give their various civilisations a more dignified end than what the Catalyst did to them.

As for the Culture... It was heavily damaged in the battle with the Leviathans. The mass relay connecting it to the Citadel is no longer functional. I can repair it, but it will take time. Years.

But once I've done that, and removed the threat of the Reapers once and for all, I can come to you.

It's going to be a long journey home.

2193 CE

Well, I've made a start.

The Inusannon and the other Reapers that I freed. They want to remain free. Despite what they have become, they want to continue to exist, to explore the universe.

I told them that they were not allowed to interfere with the Milky Way galaxy – that they were to leave it in peace. There are other smaller galaxies orbiting the Milky Way, and, although it would take time, they could even fly to Andromeda. If they want to explore, then there is plenty of space out there.

I removed all indoctrination technology from them, and greatly reduced the strength of their weapon systems. If they do encounter other space-faring life, they won't be too powerful in comparison.

And then I let them go.

Some of them left immediately, though the Inusannon and a few others have stayed to help repair the Culture. For now we're preserving systems and restoring any data that we can. A vast amount of knowledge has been lost, but we are also managing to save a lot. At least it isn't infected with a virus...

As legacies go, I suppose there are worse things to leave for the galaxy than a memory of every civilisation that came before.

I've heard nothing from Harbinger. It's... difficult knowing that he's still out there, that he'll still be there when I'm gone. Whatever he's planning, I can't stop him – I don't even know where he is. I would like to say that he is not a threat, that even with a group of Destroyers under his control, he could not endanger the entire galaxy, but... It's Harbinger. After everything he has done, I refuse to underestimate him.

I just wish that I was bringing him down with me.

I also seriously doubt that the four Leviathans that the Inusannon killed were the last of them. Meaning that, somewhere in the galaxy, the Leviathans are still alive. Still plotting for a return to power.

I've stopped the Reapers. By the time I die, there won't be a Reaper fleet left. However, it will be up to others to stop Harbinger, or to stop the Leviathans.

I guess I can't do everything.

2196 CE

Shiala. Amanda Kenson. Rupert Gardner. Richard Jenkins. Charles Pressly. Morinth. Tela Vasir. Nihlus Kryik. Ann Bryson. Tarquin Victus. Adrien Victus. Nyreen Kandros. Aria T'Loak. Oriana Lawson. Henry Lawson. Gavin Archer. David Archer. Donnel Udina. Valern. Sparatus. Tevos. Matriarch Benezia. The Rachni Queen. Eve. Saren Arterius. The Illusive Man. Jondum Bau. Kirrahe. Zaal'Koris. Kal'Reegar. Conrad Verner.

These are all just names to me now. I don't know who they are.

I just know that each and every one of them meant something to me – good or bad. And I know that I chose to forget them.

They mean nothing to me now. There's no flash of a face, no memory of a voice, no idea of what they did. They are completely gone from my mind, except for the name. I won't forget the names. It's the least I can do.

Each time that I let the virus destroy my memories of a person, it gets harder. More painful. Not just because each person meant more to me than the last, but because I know that the next person will mean even more.

The people I am preserving – the people that I am holding onto for as long as I can – they are the people that I believe contributed most to who I am. To the values that I must hold until the end. My parents. My team. Admirals Hackett and Anderson.

I refuse to forget you.

But I'm running out of memories to throw at the virus before it starts devouring the things most dear to me.

Dismantling the Reaper Fleet is taking too long. It's too big.

I'm going to each Reaper in turn. Many of them want an end, a chance to finally rest in peace. I'm more than willing to oblige. I give them a chance to make a final data-entry into the Culture – especially if information on their civilisation was lost in the battle – and then I power them down and deconstruct the Reaper form.

For those Reapers that want to carry on existing... If I'm to let them, I need to know that I can trust them. And that requires me to perform an invasive mental and personality analysis on each Reaper that wants to stay free. It's not nice. But I don't have time to build up trust the slow way.

And if they fail that test, I destroy them.

I don't feel happy about that. I'm determining their fates based on a severe violation of privacy – even if we are talking about the privacy of a Reaper. But I can't afford the risk of releasing more Reapers like Harbinger. Maybe what I'm doing is immoral. I don't know.

God, I'm tired of this.

Date unknown

Ashley. This will be my final message.

Thanks to the virus, I've lost track of time. How long has it been since the battle with the Leviathans? I'm not even sure that it matters.

I had hoped to be able to spend time with you when I returned. To actually have some time to relax before the end. But I know now that, by the time I'm finished with the Reaper fleet, by the time that the Culture relay is repaired, there will be too little of me left. I've already lost so much.

I wanted to explain everything to you in person, but these messages will have to be enough. I've collected specific memory files and all my letters to you, enough to give you the big picture. You'll have read them all by the time you read this.

When the Culture is finally repaired, and when I've dismantled the last of the Reaper fleet, I will come to you. Through the Citadel relay. I don't even remember what the Citadel is. I just know that it's the way home.

Eternity will bring the Culture to the Galaxy the slow way. He should arrive three years after me. Like the other Reapers that I've freed, all his indoctrination technology has been removed, and the power behind his weapon systems has been reduced. He wants to stay on as a steward of the Culture, and I'm inclined to let him.

The Culture arriving and being given to the galaxy. I wish I could see how that changes things, but it's a change that you'll be witness to. Not me.

I'm not looking forward to death. But I am looking forward to an end. Does that make sense? An end to being constantly forced to choose which part of me should be destroyed next.

I once told you that I wasn't an atheist. I implied that, like you, I believe in God. The truth is, I don't know what I believe. I never have. When I 'died' the first time, I experienced... nothing. And now, I have the wealth of all Reaper knowledge available to me, and nothing they have ever seen provides evidence for an afterlife.

Maybe there is a God, and I'll finally have a chance to rest. Or maybe death is oblivion. I'll find out soon enough.

I still can't wait to see you again. Imagination isn't enough. I can reconstruct your voice, your face, from my own memories. I can simulate you talking to me, being with me. But it doesn't work because it isn't you.

Invictus. You read part of it to me once. I think we were in a hospital. Later, back on the Normandy, I looked up the entire poem. It struck a chord somewhere within me. I suppose that makes sense – I crafted my persona based on never giving up, and Invictus is about perseverance through the hardest of times.

These past few years have been the hardest of times.

I want you to know – you saved my life. And I'm not referring to the countless times that you stopped me from being killed on the battlefield.

What happened on Mindoir scarred me. Until recently, I'd forgotten how deep that scar goes. You helped me forget. You helped me move on. For more than a decade, I'd committed myself to being the perfect soldier. To never taking a moment out for myself. To being... this person that I'd invented to escape Mindoir.

Meeting you brought me out of it.

You once told me that you never felt that you were worth what you fighting for. That I made you feel good enough. Well you made me feel alive. I know our time together was short. But it was worth it, for that.

I want to feel alive one last time.

I think I've earned it.

This is Commander Jason Shepard signing out.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Whew. You know, these last few chapters have been a bit heavy. Just a little bit.

Thanks to everyone that has stayed with me this far, and I apologise if I've broken your heart a couple of times by this point. I didn't exactly set out to write a happy ending fic...

The epilogue should be up soon. I'll have a thorough "Closing Comments and Thoughts" at the very end.

We're nearly there.