Palaven, 2318. 132 Years after the Reaper War.

Commander Johnathan Shepard, Spectre, savior of the Citadel, and of the entire galaxy stood at attention. His mind, numb, either in shock of the events, or as futile resistance against the pain that forced itself time and time again since the news reached him. He wore a thick woven coat and mask to protect him from the harsh rays reaching the surface of Palaven. His hair was still mostly brown, though finally at the over one hundred and sixty years, gray hairs had begun appearing. Around him, the faces of those that traveled with him long ago had thinned, falling to the enemy none could escape. The Reapers believed themselves immortal, and this had been proven false. Nothing, nobody, was above the soft embrace of their demise.

Krogan had a considerably longer lifespan than most species, the oldest reaching over twelve hundred years of age before even their robust bodies could no longer continue. Urdnot Wrex had reached and passed his thousandth year, and the powerful leader's age was beginning to show. His eyes were turning more opaque, his skin beginning to dry. The united Krogan Coalition had remained true to its word, the population of the once feared species sharply rising, though without the war and bloodlust many had predicted. Here stood the leader on the turian homeworld, an event that many would have scoffed at not too far in the past. Beside him, Urdnot Grunt stood somberly. He was still young by his species standards, though he'd matured significantly since the end of the war. Wrex had been teaching him his wisdom and experience as best as he could, knowing the future would need new leaders in the not so distant future.

Liara stood near Shepard, wearing similar attire as her former commander. Her children were maidens, and had been able to spend much of their early years with their father. Whether due to the length he remained in stasis, or the loss of his will to fight on, Javik had passed decades before. The last prothean was buried on Eden Prime, a statue in his honor made of metal designed theoretically to last a few million years. The legacy of his people though, would be through the four asari here today. Direct genetic transfer did not occur through their reproduction, but the traits of the ancient warrior remained in their own unique way.

Kaiden and his wife had both perished in a ship core overload a few decades after Joker's funeral while traveling the stars. It was difficult to have a funeral as planned. Whatever remained of the biotic Spectre and his wife could not be recovered, as the ship had drifted into the gravity well of a gas giant. The two were given an asteroid memorial organized by the geth, one pulled into a stable orbit around the gas giant that absorbed the atoms of their physical existence.

EDI stood nearby, staring straight at the turian. Few would understand how the synthetic would view death, the fragile bodies of the organic species lasting in terms of centuries if lucky. Ever since Joker had passed, the synthetic had been seen less frequently by her peers. It seemed she was hiding even from the geth, and they had expressed concern over her well-being.

A large rachni brood warrior stood in the background, another testament to how much the galaxy had changed since the war ended. It needed no protection from the radiation, the carapace of its species protecting it sufficiently. The rachni was singing, a soothing and mournful tune only experienced in the minds of the nearby organics, a vain but appreciated attempt to alleviate the sorrow they felt. It was of no doubt that they came to honor one of the beings that had shown mercy to their kind, and given them another opportunity to live amongst the stars.

One large geth similar in appearance to a prime stood nearby, years ago having informed them of its purpose, though Shepard continued to deny it. Tali'Shepard vas Rannoch was over one hundred and fifty years old now. Before the war, when exposed to the atmosphere of their homeworld, or outlying colonies, their life expectancy rarely reached two hundred. The geth had free will, and each unit could make the choices they pleased. More often than not they had been on various species colonies and homeworlds, cautiously welcomed though the stigmatization had significantly faded. They learned, they helped, and they built their future. They only requested solid "colonies" on asteroids and other bodies relatively high in metals for their construction, which were uninhabitable to organic species. This geth unit had offered itself as a constant monitor to her health, able to provide rapid assistance with thorough medical knowledge of its creator's physiology at a moment's notice.

Today, the pyre had been built by the Hierarchy, honoring the man who helped save their species from total annihilation. The event was undoubtedly being recorded, though Garrus's surviving children had requested only those close to him be present for the event. His wife had passed peacefully long ago as well as his sister, and the former vigilante had spent much of his time after simply fighting to stay alive for his family. As the years passed, the battle had become more of a delay; Shepard along with Tali had even been provided a residence planet side, as they often spent days at a time spending time with their friend. Both were there, along with his children, for the turian's final breaths.

Tali, Shepard, and the Vakarian children waited for the signal. Once it sounded, they held their torches to the large wooden structure, the flames slowly and gently surrounding the body of Garrus Vakarian.

Two Days Earlier

"I'll save you a seat John, you too Tali, don't worry." Garrus's voice rasped, barely audible from the bed.

"Garrus, are you sure?" Tali asked softly, her gloved hand reaching next to Shepard's. All three hands of three different species, together as the family they've always been.

Garrus coughed, the sound painful for both him, and to the hearts of the family around him. "Even if I survived, I'd be back here soon in even more pain. I can't keep running away. I'm just glad-" He tried a cough, but it was slow wheeze. "glad you're all here with me."

"You've always been my brother Garrus… since the beginning. I'm not going anywhere." Shepard whispered, holding the turian's clawed hand tighter than before. His children held his other hand, their lowered mandibles showing a glimpse into the pain and sorrow grasping their minds.

Tali's eyes dropped, her crying softly heard through the suit's barriers. Many doctors and heads of government of multiple species had offered to give him surgery, regrow organs, replace whatever he needed. He'd accepted assistance a few years ago, but the surgeries were becoming too frequent, his body having no time to recover in between. The hospital bed had become his home. Slowly, the turian's breaths faded, the life support monitoring having been disabled hours previously. Garrus Vakarian left this mortal existence surrounded by his family, which included his children through reproduction, and two people of entirely different species that never left his side.