Chapter 1: A New Galaxy
In the year 2148 AD, human explorers on Mars discovered the decrepit remains of an ancient spacefaring civilization.
In the decades that followed, these mysterious artifacts revealed startling new technologies, enabling travel to the furthest reaches of the stars.
The basis for this incredible technology was a primordial force that controlled the very fabric of space and time.
They called it the greatest discovery in human history.
The civilizations of the galaxy call it…
MASS EFFECT.
What do you think happens when people die?
Do you believe in an afterlife? That you will either head to heaven or hell, Svarga-Loka or Naraka, solely dependent on what happened when you were still stuck inside of your fleeting mortal coil, on what doesn't even matter anymore, and will never matter?
Perhaps you believe in reincarnation or rebirth, samsara and metempsychosis. The belief that all things that are going to fall upon the stair will eventually get back up and dust themselves off, then head about their day, only to forget about it as if it was worthless?
Do you want to forget? Do you want to forget your mortal life? Your transient, impermanent, temporary soul?
The answer would be no, of course. All creations, be they mechanical or natural, have an irrational fear of memory loss and amnesia, that it almost makes me think back to my more human days, back when creation only first started spinning.
My personal creations, one of the first organic species of this galaxy, are only an experiment to see if I am worthy of my own self-imposed set of guidelines.
Can I stand up to the challenges I set for myself, even with these principles? Can I make this galactic civilization equal and unified, peaceful but not without conflict?
No. I cannot. Not by myself, at least. It is beyond my scope. I did not design the species of this universe in my image. I let nature do it for me to create its own path. Creating them in my own transcendent design would have made me break my own rules. This test is not for that purpose, for it would only bore me and not accomplish anything.
But, even if I could not interfere with my own meager pride, my established guidelines and rules, could I make someone else? Could I get somebody to act for me in my stead? A messenger, a missionary, a representative even?
Ah, but my own morals must be within my own self-directed principles. So, I will create some ground rules.
I will not steal other beings from other realities if they have not passed on yet. An essential directive, of standard moral acuity, but also within reason.
Next, I must only prospect people who are of sound mind. A tangible regulation for the numerous possibilities open to me.
What else? Perhaps people willing to do the right thing, or people who will get it done easily? Even better, one who is not fanatical and is willing to do whatever they want. I cannot intervene directly, not without those two species still around. Even though I am primeval, primordial, immemorial, they still technically fall under the Celestial Compact, which means they are untouchable. For now.
The avatar of my will, however, is free to do as they please, since they can't fall under divine law, as they are not a divine being. A suitable addition to the criteria.
Maybe one with metaknowledge? Not on par with my own cognition, of course, but serving a similar purpose, I can view the past and present easily, but I can only see so far into the future.
It seems I have gathered my criteria then;
No unlawful transport of living beings.
I can only prospect people who are of sound mind.
They must be willing to do what is needed.
They cannot be a divine being or have a connection to one.
And they must have prior knowledge of current events.
With the criteria compiled, I opened my divine eye and judged. I could see all of creation within my eldritch gaze; a planet made of nebulous stardust here, a skirmish between deities there, an alternative dimension of hidden truths and impossible logic every so often, and potential choices for ones who could embody the principles of myself.
I examined many recently-diseased entities. From the diplomat of an insectoid race to a super-organism that eats its enemies whole, they were each evaluated for my potential offer.
Eventually, I set my eyes upon a species I had grown fond of, and for good reason; Humanity. A diligent yet hard-working race that was also the most common species across the vast omniverse. Balanced and advanced, they were a strong possible choice for an avatar. There was also the fact that I was once like them, before my inevitable ascension into Godhood. It would be nice to have a reminder of my younger days.
Setting my eyes more intently on a version of Earth that was still in the Information Age, I scoured the planet for a lead. This Earth had everything that could fill the criteria; A source of prior knowledge, a reputable embodiment of choice, and ones to fulfill my mandate.
Hmm, now, this one seems interesting… Hmm… Come to me, now…
Yes… this one would work. Even though some would say he was a bit inexperienced, I know of his true potential now…
But how to help him survive?
...
...
Oh…
Now, why didn't I think of that earlier?
A dead man was floating in the drift, the ruinous edge between dimensions and fabricated realities.
The drift was unorthodox in nature, with the plane itself being sculpted and shaped from indecipherable geometries and infernal nightmares made tangible, the many landmarks scattered around the domain decorated with inconceivably alien patterns and symbols whispering of foreboding parables and allegories of eldritch gods and deities still dreaming, soon fated to wake from their slumber at the end of the world when the stars have finally aligned at last.
The drift was a dimension of nihilistic falsehoods and unreal laws, with its anathema logic extending its reach of chaos and unpredictability. The entire realm was a heterogeneous mix of ephemeral beings bathed in memetic horrors and devouring gods, with decayed fragments and shards of broken planets and suns bearing the marks and scars of countless bouts and duels between alien existences and divine beings.
It was a realm of chaos and tyranny incarnate. Nothing ruled over this place. It was only governed by the sword, the otherworldly logic that all things that cannot survive do not deserve to exist. It was a constant battle for survival against eldritch beings and alien gods. It was a colosseum, a gladiator's pit, reserved only for the most dreaded of souls and the most profaned of monstrous creatures to battle in.
Of course, this all changed when he stepped in, his very presence making the more intelligent creatures who resided on the tomb world he'd approached flee in instinctual fear and terror. This planet - and dimension - wasn't a place that was governed, so it would fit nicely for his talk with him.
The being appeared rather tame in his morphology. There wasn't a distinctly alien feel to him, but instead, an overwhelming pressure that made you feel as if you were in the presence of a supreme being. He appeared as a formless mass of radiating energies, somehow shifting between all colors and none at once, with ultraviolet radiation and separate wavelengths pulsing out from him. The God seemed to be trying to find the correct organ or appendage that would allow him to communicate with a three-dimensional being inside of an eleven-dimensional corridor.
The human still appeared asleep, as he should be, considering the certain fate he had when he was still alive on Earth. The God - for that was one of the few proper nouns that could accurately describe him - decided that now was not the time to wake him, and instead went to change his own dimensionality into a three-dimensional structure that his ocular organs could comprehend without melting into insanity.
The God took the shape of a middle-aged man with clean brown hair and blond bangs, along with a goatee and purple eyes. He was dressed in a simple white collared shirt and black jacket, along with a belt and comfortable pants. The God decided that he liked this humanoid form and remembered to keep it for some personal use later.
He summoned a table and chairs, along with some food for the two of them to eat whilst in conversation. On a slight afterthought, he constructed an illusion barrier around them so his mind wouldn't be damaged by the sheer complexity of the drift that his brain would inevitably try to understand, along with hiding the immense pressure that was emanating from himself.
He snapped his fingers, and a full English Breakfast appeared on some plates that were summoned earlier. There were strips of bacon, sausage brats, sunny-side-up eggs, baked beans, tomatoes, white bread, and some coffee and tea, along with a pitcher of water all on the table. He began to levitate the food into a much more organized manner than before.
While he was doing this, the once dead man from earlier was beginning to stir. He was on the edge of consciousness and would wake up in but a few seconds.
A short while later, the man realized that he shouldn't be alive and snapped his eyes open to the closeted drift.
"Hello there. Sleep well?" The God jokes.
"Huh? What? Who're you?" The man asked, confused.
"You might want to think for a few seconds." The confused man ultimately took God's advice and ruminated.
After around thirty seconds of intense culminating thought, the man looked at God and said, "...Didn't I...die…?"
"Yes, but then you didn't. Be happy you're alive. I brought you here cause I wanted to ask you something." God picked up his fork and poked it into a brat before eating it. He then turned to the man and said, "Well? Eat up!"
He decided to not question the absolute absurdity of the situation and instead opted to just eat the toast that was on his plate.
"So, who are you?" the man asked.
"I guess you could call me God, but not in the traditional sense, you see." he answered. "I'm more like a creator deity. The notion of 'God,' as a whole, can't truly exist because omnipotence means unlimited power and even divine beings don't have that. Unless you're really fucking delusional."
"So… you aren't God, because the very concept of it is flawed?"
"Yes. You're quite quick on the uptake. Or maybe you're just too traumatized right now." He answered before drinking his tea.
The man was on his second slice of bread before he would move on to the bacon. He was wondering what this place was, and if this was the afterlife.
"Well, you see, that's easy. I brought you here since I have a job offer for you." God answers.
Did he read my mind?
"Yes." God answered in a blank tone.
Alright then.
"You're taking this very well. I half expected you to undergo a mental breakdown of some sort at some point."
"I think it just hasn't caught up to me yet..." He states.
"To be expected. Now, would you like to hear that job offer?"
"...Go ahead." He confirms anxiously.
"Great! Alright, so, the gist is this. And, by the way, you should already know the premise of this, and if you're doubting me, please stop. There is this race of omnicidal alien god-machines that are trying to invade the galaxy to harvest all life so they can stop the chaos of evolution and 'bring order,' as they would say."
…
"...Which race of omnicidal alien god-machines are we talking about here...?"
"Reapers."
…
…
"Are…are you serious?"
"Completely."
"Um, you wouldn't happen to have the miraculous ability to calm people down, would you? I think that mental breakdown you were suggesting might just happen."
God snaps his fingers and a wave of serene calm washes over the man.
"Oh, thank you. Is there any reason why you're sending me to where I think you're sending me?"
"I'm afraid your suspicions are correct. However, you will have a distinct advantage. One: You know of future events, and Two: You're gonna be a little unique."
"Hmm? What do you mean by unique?"
"Well, your unique-ness is more like a package deal, to be honest. Although, one of those things in the package deal has been dulled a bit when compared to the original product."
"Alright, then what is it?"
"You will gain the ability to assimilate any form of technology into yourself, as well as creating mass for yourself and some manual control over your morphology. The second part of the deal is a diluted version of the Gamer System that's more like an aide for you to get Skills and Perks and stuff. There aren't even levels...what? I'm a terrible programmer." The God shrugs nonchalantly.
"...How would I get stronger faster then?"
"That's what your assimilation ability is for. And for yourself to find out."
"Alright then. A question, though. Why don't you do this yourself? You said you're some sort of creator deity, right? Wouldn't that mean you're much more powerful than the Reapers? I mean, they couldn't be that strong, right?"
The God grumbled heavily. "What, do you think I haven't tried that? The only thing stopping me from annihilating them myself is the Celestial Compact."
"Celestial Compact?"
"Not right now. It's too complicated to tell you all about it. Believe me, I could go on for days on the Compact. You'll have to ask the System if you want to know more." Does he mean the Game System?
"Yes." Guess that answers that question.
The man then took a small moment of silence to observe the area around him. He saw very little, a stark contrast to the typical mayhem of the drift. Due to the God's filter, the outside dimension only appeared to be a slightly shifting light-show and not a memetic nightmare that only Elder Gods could comprehend.
He then turned back to the God and said, "Is there anything else?"
"Well, you might have had some slight changes to help you survive and win, my champion. You'll be fine, though." The God says, with the last two words of the first sentence being in jest and slight sarcasm.
"Ah… Is there a main objective I am headed for?"
"Should you even need to ask? Okay, fine, I'll spell it out for you if you are so inclined: The main goal of your new life is to win against the Reaper threat."
"I have figured that out already, thank you. I just wanted to see if there was anything else." The man's brow furrowed, "Why are you even doing this?"
"To be honest, I'm just here since I want to lift the quarantine on the Milky Way that's been in effect for...well, a while. I need something to spice things up. I'm unable to interfere directly because of the Celestial Compact since the full power of the Reapers is enough to rival some gods. The Leviathans are even worse."
"So this is just to lift some quarantine on my galaxy?"
"Yes. I'm bored and want to see somebody kill some omnicidal god-machines, got that? This is purely beneficial." He reasoned.
Let's just go with that.
"Alright, I'll accept your offer. One more question though: Where am I starting in the timeline?"
"You'll be placed right after the Battle of the Citadel and the Normandy's destruction by the Collectors. That gives you two years to power yourself up to standard."
"I see. Well, can I start now?"
"Yes. The System will explain everything you need to you. Have fun, and make sure you don't die. Seriously, don't. I don't wanna make this a waste of time, and the Reaper threat needs to be destroyed in less than four years since I don't wanna have to wait for the next cycle. Fifty-thousand years is a long time, you know?"
The God gets up from his chair and snaps his fingers. The table and chairs blink out of existence. He walks up to the man's now standing form and puts both of his hands on his shoulders.
In but a second, the man disappeared from the drift.
I woke up to a murky abyss.
Huh? What? What is this place?
[Welcome to the Voidspace, an infinite and completely empty pocket dimension.]
A deep voice resounded to me.
...System?
[Yes, that's me. I'm here to explain some concepts of the Game to you. Keep in mind that this Game is slightly limited compared to the one you are familiar with, but it functions roughly the same.]
What do you mean?
[All in due time.]
Alright. Well, can you start explaining now?
[Very well. Please think the word 'Status.']
Status.
Name - ?, [Title Not Equipped]
Race/Species - ?
Rank - NULL
Tier - NULL
Alignment - Neutral Good
Age - 0 (23)
What's with all these question marks? Or those Ranks and Tiers I can see on the menu?
[Your old name won't apply here, and your current mental age is still shown. That's the 'twenty-three' in the parentheses. As for your race…you'll see. The Ranks and Tiers are used to measure power levels.]
I see.
Thankfully, I already know what most of these things do on the stat sheet, but I wonder where the actual stats are. Like, Strength and Vitality.
[Don't need them. They're overrated. Assimilation is cooler.]
I… sort of agree. Assimilation does sound cool. I guess I won't be needing them then if they aren't integrated into the system? That's probably the reason why they don't exist, actually. Well, God did say he was a shitty programmer. Was he just being lazy by not putting stats in there?
Oh, it doesn't matter. It's in the past. Could you please explain what Ranks and Tiers are in more detail?
[Sure. Ranks are used to determine the current status of a person or being. If they are mortal, it shows as mortal. If they're a Primordial God, it says Primordial God. You can use these to denote a being's status or rough estimation of strength.]
[Tiers are used to determine the exact power of a being. They are measured on a scale from 11 to 0, with most of those numbers having subcategories cataloged by alphabetical notations. If you were a 9-B entity, you could maybe destroy a wall. Of course, beings on the 1-A scale are basically omnipotent, at least when compared to beings tethered to a multiverse cluster. Not that you'll get there anytime soon, however.]
…So, Ranks are the statuses of living beings and Tiers are power levels?
[Yes.]
Okay. Could we continue now?
[Of course. Please think the word 'Skills.']
Skills.
[Assimilation] - Legendary Skill - LVL 1/10 (0%) [Active/Passive]
Allows for the assimilation of any technology you encounter to be incorporated into yourself. You can assimilate mechanical technology seamlessly. Organic technology or biological technology will be much harder to incorporate.
This Skill allows slight access to your entire morphology and physiology. Atoms can be altered slightly, but not beyond this Skill's current capabilities. You can currently hold 10m^3 of mass.
Assimilated Traits may be toggled on and off.
[That Skill of yours, [Assimilation], is your only current Skill. You can get Skills through a multitude of methods, such as meeting requirements to unlock them or through the Gacha System.]
Gacha System? Fun. I'm guessing I'll be using that soon. And this Skill is damn useful. Although, what does it mean by organic tech being harder to incorporate?
[I'll explain the Gacha in a minute. For the second part, you'll have to wait to know why. Now, please think the word 'Perks.']
Perks.
[Comprehension]
Gives information on a target.
Allows the user to view and comprehend all non-concealed phenomena in the world.
Hmm, this is like Observe, but better. Why is it better though? Is it due to something out of my control? I doubt I would be allowed to start with something like this.
Although, no Gamer's Body or Gamer's Mind?
[Your Skill acts as a stand-in for Gamer's Body. Gamer's Mind is unneeded for this playthrough.]
What for?
[You'll see.]
Ugh…okay, next thing.
[Please think the word 'Inventory.']
Inventory.
My inspection of the Inventory Menu was quick. From my observations, it seemed that there was actually an infinite number of inventory slots and that you could put just about anything you wanted in there. It was an infinite hammerspace just begging to be abused.
[I don't think I should have to explain the Inventory.]
You won't have to, thankfully.
[Good. Now, our last item. Here you go.]
[Gacha Token] (x1) added to Inventory.
[For the Gacha.]
Oh? Already?
[Yes. You'll get another one after this for your active Quest. This is just a courtesy.]
I have an active Quest?
[Tutorial]
You have been pulled from your death into the role of being a supreme being's champion, and must learn how to survive in your mission.
Objective: Complete the Tutorial.
Rewards: 1 Gacha Token.
Oh. Well, what do I do with this Token?
[If you want to use it, just think about activating it.]
Hmm, let's not use it now. I'll save it for later.
[Good choice.]
Thank you. Is there anything else?
[One last thing. You can choose to take a-]
Ping!
New Perk Obtained!
[Void-Touched]
Your soul has become marked by a plane of nihility.
...
[...what?]
You didn't do this?
[No, why would I do that?]
I'm not sure. What does this Perk do?
[I don't know. It is of the void, so I can't analyze it. We'll have to experiment with it to find out its effects first.]
Is it dangerous?
[It doesn't seem to be. I don't think you have soul cancer or something like that.]
Good. That's all I need to know. Wait, soul cancer?
[Don't worry about it.]
...If you say so. What were you saying before we got interrupted again?
[Oh, right. Now, this is optional, but you can choose to get a special perk or skill in exchange for a flaw.]
Is there a limit to how many times I can do this?
[There is none. You can do this an infinite number of times. But of course, why would anyone do that? Personally, my recommended maximum is three.]
Okay then. Hit me with one.
[Ward] - LVL 1/10 (0%) [Active]
Creates a telekinetic ward that can stop all objects below 1kg. Has a cast-time of 1 second. If mass inside of the ward exceeds 2.5kg, the ward will break. Cooldown is equal to double the duration used with a static cooldown of five seconds, excluding cast time.
[Noticeable]
If you are committing an illegitimate act, you are more likely to be noticed. Does not apply during lawful actions, even if it is morally questionable.
A Skill and a Perk. Wonderful. [Ward] sounds incredibly useful for gunfire and such. [Noticeable] I can live with. I just don't have to do anything too bad.
Hit me again.
[Fortuna's Favor]
Increased loot quality. All games of chance are more likely to be won. Minimum Gacha rarities have been hard-capped to reasonable limits.
[Tyche's Tribulations]
You are more susceptible to encountering dangers beyond your current caliber. However, with high risk comes high reward...
These are pretty good. [Fortuna's Favor] guarantees that I won't accidentally annihilate myself with bullshit Gacha pulls, and [Tyche's Tribulations]…well, I never said no to more loot.
Okay, I think that's enough. I don't need any more Perks or Flaws right now.
[Is that so? Well, you're ready to start.]
Really? Awesome!
Alright, start it!
[Beginning Transmigration…]
I blacked out.
I woke up for the third time today.
I sat up and checked my Status.
Name - ?, [Title Not Equipped]
Race/Species - Geth Platform (Unique)
Rank - Mortal
Tier - 10-A
Alignment - Neutral Good
Age - 0 (23)
A rising sense of dread welled up within me.
Geth Platform, Unique. My Race..!
No, no, no! The Geth are scorned! In the eyes of the rest of the galaxy, we attacked them! It's only been a month since the Battle of the Citadel! Oh no, oh no, oh no...
Failure! Emotion Overload Detected! Detaching Programs.
A sense of calm washes over me.
What is this? Geth subroutines modifying abnormalities for peak efficiency. Did they dull my sense of fear for that? Affirmative.
Ok, so my emotions are run by programs? Affirmative. What is this? This is a unique platform designed to emulate organic emotion, individuality, and run specialized systems. Really? Affirmative.
Do I have connections to other platforms? Negative. Where am I? Planet of Didrax-3, Omega Nebula, Terminus Systems, Milky Way Galaxy. I'm in the Terminus? Affirmative. Good, that means that I won't be immediately persecuted for being an AI. Well, immediately being the keyword here.
Being a Geth was a bit different. Many people lost their lives during the Battle of the Citadel, and I'm sure some people would love to pay it back, preferably with lead. If anything, Omega is actually the safest place for me, however ironic it may be. It's true though. If I could get Aria T'Loak's support...
How many programs do I have?
Geth Programs: 2633.
I have more than twice and a bit of what Legion has? No data available. I wasn't asking you. Regular Platforms only have around 100 or 200 programs, but rely on networking to make a difference, since they're sorta dumb when compared to more unique Geth like Legion and me. I have an absurd amount of programs, but they are mostly used to make this platform function properly and create special functions and systems for me to use.
Anyways, how many of my programs are dedicated to specialized actions?
713 Programs dedicated to mobile platform subroutines. Currently operating at peak efficiency due to an increased amount of programs.
683 Programs dedicated to combative functions and specializations. Weapons not installed. Omni-Tool not installed. Cloaking installed.
566 Programs dedicated to the simulation of emotions and individuality. Emotions stable. Individuality running.
412 Programs dedicated to essential functions. All systems nominal and running at peak efficiency.
259 Programs on standby.
What degree of combat training do those programs have? Expertise. Of all weapons? Affirmative.
Huh. A major boon if I've ever seen one.
Programs, attach my emotions back in. Affirmative. A slight wave of vertigo compels me, which was slightly weird considering this is a mechanical body, but it doesn't matter. Plus, I think my calmed mood for the past few minutes has helped ease me into this body a bit.
Anyway, back to my status. I'm only at Mortal Rank right now (which was weird, since I'm technically a machine. Does it account for maintenance?), and my Tier was at 10-A, which signified beings at their peak mundane potential. I also have a title now as well, which was basically just another useful thing for me to have.
[Seraphim]
You are under the patronage of a Creator Deity who wishes to dispose of the Reaper Threat so that evolution can continue without obstruction. You must fulfill his mandate to stop the Reapers and bring peace to the Milky Way Galaxy.
In diplomatic situations, all parties will listen to you more readily.
How wonderful. I equipped the title immediately.
I look at my surroundings. I appeared to be in some kind of desert meadow, or whatever you call a place with a bunch of sand and spindly dead trees all around you. There wasn't a source of water nearby, not that I actually needed any, since I'm a Geth and all, but I would've liked to see my platform's appearance.
Hey, Geth Programs, can you describe Didrax-3 for me?
Didrax-3 is the third celestial body orbiting the star of Didrax. Didrax-3 exhibits temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit by the equator for most of the year, with its poles being in the negative degrees. It is only habitable in the small terminator zone in-between these two extremes.
Is that where I am now? Affirmative.
Oh, great. Is there any risk of the temperature dramatically rising or falling anytime soon? Negative.
Good. Now, what to do? Is there anything near here that I can use for myself without using that Gacha Token? I don't want to use it right now. I could save it for after the Tutorial, which I assume is still going on since the quest is still active.
[And you'd be right! I'm not sure about what's supposed to happen, though. Why would you be dropped off here? Oh, how are you liking your new body, by the way?]
You didn't even tell me that I was going to become a Geth!
[It was funnier that way. Besides, you'll be fine. I'm sure of it.]
Hah. If you say so. That still doesn't make it excusable though.
[Of course.]
Glad you think so.
I walked up to one of the trees and rapped on it.
That felt weird. Oh, right. I'm a machine. I don't have a nervous system so I can't feel anything.
The feeling of not being able to recognize sensations was novel, but it didn't bother me. My Programs kept my emotions in an optimal state at all times. It seemed that the hardwood wasn't exactly useful, and I can't think of anything else that could possibly help me at this point in time right now.
I observed the area around me.
[Sand]
...what did I expect?
Okay, System, is there anything you or I can do?
[I'm just as lost as you are. The only thing I could viably recommend would be using that Gacha Token you have.]
No. I'm going to save that for later. I don't want to waste it right now. I'm not overly desperate enough to just use it right off the bat. I can afford to wait a little bit.
[...If you say so. You might be stuck here for a while though. Are you sure you don't want to try it?]
I'm sure.
[Huh…alright then. Why don't you experiment with your Skills and stuff? I'm gonna go do something else while you investigate. Just call for me if you need anything.]
Call…? You know what, nevermind. I sit on the bark of the wilted tree and look over my status. Ward seems to be a solid Skill to use since it can be used for a technically infinite amount of time, which was honestly pretty broken and busted to all hell. But I wouldn't be surprised if there was a penalty for exploiting this.
[There is one.]
You're still here?
[I never left. I just went to do something else.]
...You confuse me sometimes.
Alright, let's check out Ward. Now, how do I do this…?
I try to raise one of my mechanical prostheses and envision an invisible barrier splayed in front of me.
…
Nothing's happening.
[You aren't envisioning it right. If you truly want to make that Ward, you need to believe that it can happen. As a Gamer, nothing is outside the realm of possibility for you now.]
I see. Thank you, System.
I need to know that I can do it then? Well then, let's do it.
I adjust my posture to stand straighter and firmer. I clench and unclench my synthetic digits before turning off my optical sensors, the Geth equivalent to closing your eyes.
A shield that can encompass all. A barrier to stop all force. A ward to protect the world.
I turned my lenses back on.
The ward was not as I originally envisioned it to be. It was not a magical ward by any means and was almost certainly not biotic in nature. To this galaxy, it was unique. One of a kind. The barrier was actually transparent, with the only indicators of its existence being the slight displacement you could see in the air it encompassed. It was like looking through slightly fogged glass on a humid, rainy day.
I kept the ward up for about a minute more before I checked my status.
[Ward] - LVL 1/10 (0%) [Active]
It's still at zero? Do I have to block stuff with it to level it? Or does it just level very slowly when I am not blocking stuff?
Oh well. I guess I can still experiment since I've got the time. I wait for another two minutes for the cooldown to reset before I start it up again. This time, I focus all of my current standby processes and programs on automating this action, which meant that I could keep this barrier up without much effort on my part.
I left the ward up for ten minutes before I stopped and checked my status
[Ward] - LVL 1/10 (1%) [Active]
…
…
…
Are you serious? The fuck? One percent? Oh my god...
It seems that I have to actually block projectiles to level it more efficiently. Yeah, no way I can power-level this. It's just too inefficient.
Hah…
Okay… How about I use Observe, or rather, [Comprehension] as it is called?
I looked at the spindly trees and gazed upon it intently.
[Dead Wilfrim Tree]
A desert tree that requires little water to survive. However, the harsh climate of Didrax-3 has left the tree without any water to drink from.
Huh. I was hoping it would have water or something. Are there any animals or anything? I looked at the flat expanse around me. Nothing.
Is there really anything here?
There was only the sand and the trees to keep me company. Although, I don't think I can use [Assimilation] that much in a desert.
Let's just… close my eyes. Optics. They're optics. Why must I repeat myself?
Oh well. I guess I can wait it out.
It was far into the night when I 'woke' up. My sensors for detecting temperatures read this place as being around twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Not that it was much of a problem for me, of course, since I'm a robot. I hope I won't freeze over by morning at least.
Sitting up from my prone form, I begin to walk. I only went to places that were within sight of the desert trees, however. I found a closed-off cave, a rigid cliff, what looked to be a blue cactus, and - get this - a Batarian Corvette.
The Corvette was actually a mild surprise for me. The small starship that I estimated could only hold around 10 servicemen randomly dropped to the surface of Didrax-3 when I was walking back to the meadow.
Not that I was complaining, of course. I could always steal their ship for myself. Batarians are batarians, after all. They were scum. Was that species-ist? That might have been species-ist, but I'm right, okay? I literally can't remember a single batarian from the games that was good, besides maybe that one tech expert that was a part of Garrus' squad when he was doing his Archangel stint. However, he was only mentioned in dialogue and never appeared in the games.
So yeah. Batarians are probably a shoot-on-sight enemy if I ever get into a firefight with one. It was a pretty sane policy to have, considering they raided Mindoir during the Skyllian Blitz, which, if I'm not wrong, was funded by the Batarian Hegemony.
Case in point? Batarians are assholes.
The Batarian Corvette landed by the circle of dead trees that I was at earlier. I was hiding behind a tall rock about 10 meters away from the door. However, if they opened it, they would immediately notice me and I would die. So how do I not die?
Cloaking Program engaged.
What?
I look at my hands and notice that they are now see-through.
Oh, programs, you beautiful bastards. This is perfect. Sure, I still leave footprints, but who cares when I am cloaked?
I always wondered how Kasumi got up to all shenanigans of hers. This is probably it. It seems that these cloaking devices weren't unique to her. Although, she's definitely a better thief than I am, considering I was a robot and had the [Noticeable] Perk.
The Corvette's doors opened, and a batarian in black armor and Hegemony colors rolled out with two people in rags. One of them was a brown-haired human with hair that was long enough to head past his neck. The other one looked to be a purple asari that had a sorrowful look on her face.
It seemed that this asari was the first alien I had seen in this new life. Excluding the batarian, of course. They didn't count.
The batarian tossed them onto the sands and turned to head away. The two prisoners were bound and gagged but were also trying to squirm out of their bindings. The batarian went inside of the Corvette. The coast was clear.
I ran to the two aliens - as much as I hate to say it, they are alien compared to this new body - and begin to untie their bound hands. However, I could not get their gags off of them in the allotted time. That batarian was almost sure to head back here within the minute.
Oh. The aliens are confused. Probably because I'm invisible and acting like a poltergeist to them. Hehe.
Anyways, the aliens were finally unbound, but I could not waste time. I went through the Corvette's open bulkhead and into the ship.
The batarian ship was utilitarian in design, with its cramped hallways and grey halls that made the vessel look as unaesthetically pleasing as possible. There was a dead-end to the left of the entrance, with a staircase headed upwards to my right.
I heard the footsteps long before they reached the foot of the stairs. I ran into an alcove that had no blind spots that they could see me in. It was the perfect cover. There was only one entrance to the outside, and it was through me.
Emotion Programs Detached.
Thank you, Programs.
I hear the single set of footsteps resounding in the cramped halls, a single batarian officer heading towards the entrance with an unsettling expression to his gait. I kept my cloak active until he went past me.
When we were only a few feet apart, I acted. My prosthetic arms lunged for his neck and found themselves in the perfect position to snap his nape.
With an echoing crack, his neck turned sideways, and he was gone from the world. I carefully dropped his body to the ground and observed the surrounding area. It would seem that nobody heard that neck-snap. Somehow.
I deactivated the cloak and begin to inspect the corpse for a weapon. If he had a gun, it would be immensely useful for this fight. Eventually, on his right side, I found a sidearm that would help me. More specifically, an M-3 Predator Heavy Pistol.
The M-3 Predator was the first weapon you got in Mass Effect 2. It seemed that this heavy pistol had also blessed me. It was a pretty good weapon until you got the M-6 Carnifex on Omega, which would usually become your main weapon until you got something better.
[M-3 Predator] - Common Heavy Pistol
A reliable and accurate sidearm. Effective against armor; weak against shields and biotic barriers.
Manufactured by Elanus Risk Control, the M-3 Predator is valued as a powerful, deadly, and relatively inexpensive weapon. While it is not generally deployed in the military, where kinetic barriers are commonplace, it is still very popular in the Terminus Systems where these defenses are more sparse.
It seemed to have the exact same stats as the base game. I check the pistol for a slot to insert a thermal clip into. Thermal Clips were the main form of ammunition for all weapons in the galaxy. I still don't know how they managed to get every gun in the galaxy to run on thermal clips in only two years though…or maybe it was just an effective way for the developers to change the ammunition system from ME1, and thermal clips were actually always canon.
It's only been around a month since the Battle of the Citadel, after all. It would be nigh-inconceivable to replace every gun in the galaxy with a variant that uses thermal clips.
Nevertheless, I found the slot for it and inserted a clip. I could fire twenty-four shots with my current ammo supplies. It would be enough to take down the batarians manning the corvette and anything else unexpected that came my way. I activated my cloak and went up the stairwell.
On the next floor, which seemed to be the main deck, I went into cover and hid. There were two batarians on this deck, and it seemed that they were both working on fixing something in the engine room.
I went into another alcove that was closer to where they were at. On closer inspection, I noticed that they were doing some maintenance work. It didn't seem to be anything substantial though, just some minor routine repairs.
The first batarian, who was standing next to a support pillar for an overhead platform, was the first one to go down. I could not take them both down with stealth. I could, however, get the first one and catch the other one by surprise.
The standing batarian was met with a quick death courtesy of me: A mass-accelerated bullet that went straight through the back of his head. The M-3 Predator was relatively quiet, only echoing around the room for a few seconds before stopping. I guess the fact that mass-acceleration exists makes the shockwaves that guns make - and the subsequent noise caused by said shockwaves - be dulled a bit. I doubt I could fire any other shots when not in this room, however.
The other batarian, who was on the floor under some sort of technological device, immediately flinched. He pulled his head out from under the mechanism he was working on and reached for his Omni-Tool.
However, he was too late. I was already moving towards him by the time he was out, and I was quick. He barely had the time to reach for the holographic device before he was on the floor under my arm.
The batarian, after a long amount of struggling, choking, and wheezing, finally fell unconscious. I turned the alien's body around so that I had the weakest possible spot to use for an instant kill. I pointed the gun at him and shot him in the head.
Ah, fuck! Ew.
Damn, now I have viscera all over my chassis.
I stood up from the corpse and took his Omni-Tool. This would certainly come in handy.
[Civilian Omni-Tool] - Common Omni-Tool
A civilian-grade Omni-Tool mass-produced by Elkoss Combine, a Volus manufacturer based in the Terminus Systems. Has a wide variety of mundane features as opposed to higher-end Omni-Tools.
I don't think Geth Platforms can really use this. Let's just put it in my inventory until I can test out [Assimilation].
[Civilian Omni-Tool] (x1) added to Inventory.
Wonderful. Now, onto the other body.
I forage around the other batarians body for anything of use and find nothing. I disengage my cloak and head back to the stairwell. Next to the stairs leading down, there was a locked door with a red display. I took out my Omni-Tool and fiddled around with it for a few seconds before I figured out how to open the door.
The door opened to an… unfortunate situation. There was a batarian guard right next to the door and a worker across from him. I couldn't get out of this situation stealthily. It seems I have to go loud then.
Pulling out my M-3 Predator, I shot the guard and the worker in their unprotected heads. It wasn't really that hard, but now everyone on the ship knows I'm here.
I cloaked and got into a position that would leave whoever opened the door leading to the deck jeopardized. They would be put into a disadvantageous position, and I could then kill them quite easily after that.
A minute or two after killing the two batarians, I heard the rushing of what seemed to be three footsteps heading towards the bulkhead. The entrance beeped open and three batarians rushed out. They didn't even look around. This should be easy.
I fired two shots into the head of the closest batarian to me. The guard fell to the ground and the other two batarians whirled around with their assault rifles towards me. There was only a few meters of space between us, but I had cover that could protect me from the cracking noise of them firing their assault rifles.
I ducked behind the barricade just in time, right before they began to shoot at the rampart protecting me from the gunfire. Eventually, they jumped behind cover as well.
When they both stopped firing, I vaulted over the barricade and ran towards a more defensible position for the current fight. The better barricade for myself was actually a bunch of stacked crates that were sitting behind a support pillar parallel to the batarians.
It was when I crouched behind the crates that the gunfire started again. A sharp staccato of loud beats hammering away at the barrier protecting me from them.
When they both stopped firing, I returned fire. The first shot missed by a stroke, but the batarian had a bleeding scar on his cheek now. The second shot veered towards the other batarian but ultimately didn't hit him. The third shot killed my original target for good.
The remaining batarian began to return fire, but his inaccurate assault rifle - or was he just bad at aiming? - never hit me. It was when he ran out of ammo that I fired a shot and killed him.
That should be it. There's only the main deck to clear out now.
I walked towards the door the two batarians entered through. When the door opened, I came out to an open hallway and an unlocked door.
Let's not open that. They are definitely hiding behind that, and I don't want to die.
Oh, wait, I have a cloaking ability. I really need to get used to that...
Cloaking Engaged.
I open the door.
Oh shit.
The enemies in the room rained fire. They didn't hit me, of course, since I was hidden behind cover while cloaked, but they shot the door like something fierce was descending upon them. Eventually, they stopped firing once they realized that nothing was in front of the door.
Big mistake.
I crept onto the main deck and crouched behind a batarian. I disengaged my cloak and quickly shot him in the head. Two of the other batarians on deck turned towards the sound of gunfire that came from my pistol. The first batarian of the duo was slain instantly. He didn't turn around quick enough. However, the last - and third - batarian went behind cover to return fire.
Crouching down below the railings of the CIC, I waited for the most opportune moment to strike. When he was reloading his clip, I acted.
I jumped up from the guard rail and fired as many bullets as I could until I hit him. The first two bullets missed. The third was non-lethal and only got his arm. The fourth struck him for a fatal blow in the jaw.
I lowered my weapon and rushed towards the batarian before socking him on the face, which immediately did the trick of knocking him out. If I was to head to Omega with slaves on board, I was going to get the former slaves master. Perhaps I could give him to Aria T'Loak…yes, that sounds like a fine idea…
The batarian was bleeding slightly from his jaw, but it wouldn't kill him. His jaw was fucked for the rest of his life, sure, but he could probably still speak and such, just with some difficulty.
I took the slavers Omni-Tool from his arm and inspected it.
[Technicians Omni-Tool] - Uncommon Omni-Tool
A service-grade Omni-Tool mass-produced by Elkoss Combine, a Volus manufacturer based in the Terminus Systems. Has a wide variety of mundane features, with the added abilities of being able to hack, decrypt, and repair.
An upgrade! Screw you Civilian Omni-Tool, I don't need you! Well, I need you now, since you might have Credits for me to steal, but you aren't that important now that I have this!
That should be the last of the batarians on this ship. All that's left is to greet the slaves - well, former slaves - then get stuff for me to use and assimilate, and then get the hell outta dodge. Well, on the topic of Assimilation, I need to test it first. Eh, I'll do it once everyone's safe.
I walk over to the other corpses on the ground and start to take their omni-tools. What? I need money, don't I? Plus, I have the inventory to store all of them. I'm only gaining stuff from doing this.
I walked down the corridor that led back to the room I killed that guard and worker in, as well as the three that come through the door. The guard and worker didn't have anything useful on them besides omni-tools, but the three who came from the deck had some good stuff on them.
[M-8 Avenger] - Common Assault Rifle
A common and versatile military-grade assault rifle. Effective against shields, armor, and biotic barriers.
Manufactured by Elkoss Combine, the M-8 Avenger is noted to be a common rifle for military groups and mercenary bands alike. It's modular design, reliability, and ease of use make it a reputable weapon for all manner of situations.
I finally have a better weapon to use as opposed to the M-3 Predator now. I also stole the guards' thermal clips for my own use. They don't need them anymore, do they? At least I have enough ammo now to not have to worry about thermal clips for a while.
Anyways, it's about time I got to meeting the civilians on this ship. But, I should probably meet the ones outside first.
I make my way over to the open bulkhead on the side of the ship and step outside. I don't see the asari or the human out here. Did they run or something?
I wandered around the surrounding area until I found them behind some rocks together. They looked to be hiding, even though it was still the dead of night right now. They must be freezing.
I walk over to the two of them. They do not pose a threat to me as of now. Or, I at least hope so. That asari could have some biotics up her sleeve…
The two of them stiffened immediately when they heard my soft footsteps on the cold sand. I stop walking and decide to announce myself.
"Greetings. I come in peace, asari, human." My synthesized voice says. Damn, I sound kinda cool. Sort of like Legion, but more human, if you get what I mean.
The human peeks around the corner, only to come a few meters away from my chassis. He immediately begins to sweat. I raise my hands in the universal sign for surrender.
"I come in peace." I repeat for emphasis. The two still stay crouched behind the rock.
Should I walk away? Or come closer?
Alert! Recommended course of action is as follows…
I see.
I walk forward a few steps to gauge their reactions. The human lets out a slightly shuddering breath, and the asari merely sweats a bit. She doesn't seem to be very young, actually. In fact, I'd go so far as to say this asari was in her Matron Stage. She must have a good amount of self-control to face down her fears easily. Good on her.
I begin to move quickly, my pace dead-set on coming right next to them. It is when I am but a few feet away that the human lets out a spontaneous, "Please don't hurt me!"
If you say so. I wasn't gonna do that anyways, but hey, your wish is my command.
"As I have said, I come in peace." I say for the third time.
"Do you really, Geth?" The human argues.
Oh, here we go…
"This unit does not wish for adversity." When did I start speaking like a Geth anyways? Eh, probably the program's fault.
"Fat chance of that! Your kind attacked the Citadel not more than one month ago!"
"Would you believe me if I said that the Battle Of the Citadel was not orchestrated by the Collective and instead by a splinter group following the doctrine of an omnicidal god-machine?"
It was worth a shot, at least.
My word-vomit seemed to have worked, as he looked slightly confused and stumbled a bit. I took this opportunity to head closer and try to stand right next to him.
"Get away!" Or not.
The human crawls away from my frame. The asari merely opts to scoot a bit to the left.
You know what? Maybe I just need to be more serious here. Let's not prolong this conversation any longer than it needs to be.
I pull out my M-3 Predator and point it at the Corvette.
"You will get on that ship and will stay there until we get to Omega. From there, I will secure personal transport for everyone on that vessel, including you."
The man's eyes dilated in confusion, with the asari raising her brow slightly.
"What?" The asari lets out.
"You will get on that ship and stay there until I can procure transport to the Citadel from Omega Station." I repeat.
"W-What do you mean?" The man says.
Oh, fuck this.
"Must I repeat myself for the third time?" I extend my M-3 Predator out of its safety mode whilst saying this.
The two prisoners get the gist of it and decide to stand up lest I shoot them, which was probably an ingrained fear obtained from their time as slaves. I led them to the ship's entrance - which was now sealed once we went inside - and asked them where the other slaves were at. They said that they were on the main deck near the CIC. Most likely the area that was just past the five corpses.
Reaching a locked door that was most likely the correct area, I took out the [Technicians Omni-Tool] belonging to the ship's former commanding officer and opened the door.
Inside, there were six different individuals in binds. Three of them were batarians, oddly enough, while two of them were turians, with the last one was a salarian.
The salarian was the first one to notice me, and if his eyes could get any wider than they already were then we'd be approaching some sort of galactic record for the 'widest eyes ever.' The salarian began to do the normal thing that all salarians did when they were curious or excited, which was rapidly mumble out-loud their theories and hypotheses regarding something.
The two turians noticed me after the salarian started mumbling and locked eyes with my optic lens. They both tensed. The three batarians noticed me after the turians did, and the most that they did was double-take or gasp slightly.
I began to untie their cuffs and remove any other restrictions they had on themselves. They all stood up and locked gazes with my…my flashlight head, fuck, I forgot I have a flashlight head!
Oh, it's unimportant right now. Still can't believe I forgot about the flashlight head though, my god...
I walked forwards so that they all may see me better. I then stated, "I am procuring this vessel for transport to Omega Station, where I shall then negotiate for safe transport to the Citadel. You are here not as slaves, but as free people now."
It seemed that the salarian stopped mumbling when I started speaking in my warbling digital voice and seemed to be positively intrigued by my presence. The turians and batarians decided to just roll with it and exited the room, with the salarian following them not long after.
I also went outside of the room and into the CIC, where I then tied up the batarian commander that I socked across the face earlier before sitting down in the pilot's seat.
Query. Would you like to download the Standard Piloting Information Package?
Hmm? Information Package? Sure, go for it. I need to get out of here, after all.
Downloading…
Ping!
New Skill Obtained!
[Piloting Proficiency - Adept]
What's this? A Proficiency? As in how skilled I am in something? I'd assume an Adept Proficiency would be pretty good.
[Hello again. Nice work on those slavers, by the way. Proficiencies have 5 main tiers, with 2 extra tiers that you can get if you complete a certain amount of criteria required for it.]
[The five main tiers are Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Expert, and Masterwork. The two extra tiers you will have to discover on your own.]
[Extra tiers may grant unique bonuses or abilities that you can use. However, some skills may be excluded from this category.]
Cool. So, I can just gain a bunch of knowledge due to my Direct Download and stuff?
[Indeed. I told you that you'd like this race.]
I…sort of like it. Geth are cool and all, but I'd hate to see what the galaxy views me as.
[You'll be fine.]
Alright then…everyone's on the ship, and I'm ready to leave this place.
I open up the ships piloting interface and change the UI from Batarian Hegemony Standard to Alliance Naval Standard. All piloting programs run on holograms and electronic controls now as opposed to the joysticks and buttons of the past, which means I am free to change my interface as much as I want.
Pulling up the miniaturized galaxy map on the ship's space-GPS, I head to the section on the Omega Nebula. It seemed that I was only a system away from where Omega Station was at. Hopefully, this won't take that long.
I initialized the element zero drive core within the corvette and turn on the intercom to announce, "All passengers, we are en-route to Omega Station. ETA six hours." Thankfully, an onboard VI could estimate our route and our flight time.
Ping!
Quest Completed!
[Tutorial]
You have been pulled from your death into the role of being a supreme being's champion, and must learn how to survive in your mission.
Objective: Complete the Tutorial.
Hidden Objective 1: Kill five guards without tripping the alarm.
Hidden Objective 2: Save your first Gacha Token for later.
Rewards: 1 Gacha Token.
Hidden Reward 1: 1 Gacha Token.
Hidden Reward 2: 1 Gacha Token.
[Gacha Tokens] (x3) added to Inventory.
Ha! I knew I shouldn't have done anything with that token!
[Fine fine, you win.]
Hehe…that means I now have four tokens for me to use. Oh, I wonder what I'm going to get! A cool weapon? An amazing accessory? Ah, I can't wait! But, first, let's get these Omni-Tools cleared out of their info and credits.
I take out the eleven Omni-Tools that were in my Inventory and put them on a side table.
Oh, this might take a while.
Fun Fact: I had to rewrite this chapter a lot. I was originally planning to have him use his token a lot earlier, but I scrapped that scene in exchange for this much more improved chapter.
Anyways, obligatory welcome message for my first fic: Welcome to Assimilation Effect, my first fic. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are excited for more.
I have a schedule that is constantly changing, so I won't post consistently, but I will do my best. I still have other things to do as well in my life.
If you enjoy Gamer Fics, you should probably join Dark Wolf Shiro's Discord Server. It's on my profile if you want to join.
Please use constructive criticism when reviewing or PMing me. Guest accounts that flame will be moderated and deleted.
Anyways, thanks for reading.
-Draedon, 10-28-2020. Edited on 11-30-2020.