AN: as per tradition, chapters divisible by 5 are always a bit special. I'm not sure how long it will be before I can update again, so let's make this one count!

-(++)-


/…RECEIVING ENCRYPTED MESSAGE

/…RUNNING TRANSLATION SOFTWARE

/…MESSAGE DECRYPTED

To: Creator Tali'Zorah

Subject: We found Him

"Creator Tali'Zorah. We have found "Him". Geth reconnaissance platforms are leaving the system. There will be a 0.03 percent chance of conflict if the Creator Flotillas leave their the Migrant Fleet for retrieval within one hour from the moment of you receiving this message. We have deemed this acceptable. We anticipate you deem this acceptable as well. We wish you a favorable statistical outcome."

-(++)-


Kite's Nest / Hara System / Khar'shan

He stood within the command center of the primitive flagship, watching a planet that an entire civilization called their homeworld burn and wither. .

Another cradle of life, gone. Another home lost.

Another blow to the work of the Lifeshaper.

Next to him stood the highest ranking leader that these people had left. A man calling himself the Grand Admiral. His efforts in keeping the Flood contained on this world were perhaps the sole reason why this galaxy was still safe.

Relatively speaking.

"The answers you seek would scar you and your people, irreparably," he quietly answered the creature's inquiries.

"The scars my people now bear, will never fade away," the Grand Admiral solemnly answered. "Even if they are to remain in the dark, I must know."

The Forerunner known as the Master Builder nodded, understanding and secretly admiring the Grand Admiral's wish. "Your people are the first victims of a clash unlike your galaxy has ever seen before. A clash that occurred once already."

Behind him, the sangheili Shipmaster quietly continued his work, telling his officers where to direct their orbital bombardment. The lack of dedicated Design Seeds was painful, but not crippling. His Upgrade Seeds could compensate.

"You call this plague by its name," the "batarian" spoke again. "The Flood. You know of them."

The Master Builder focused his attention elsewhere. The enormous amount of information available to him was difficult to process, even though he had had the time to recover from his…self-imposed exile. The gaps in the Cycle, the deeds of those who existed before this community. Everything was connected and no single detail could be overlooked.

Giants in a playground…

"In the grand scale of time, your civilization is but an infant. So are the all the others in this…community." The influx of information provided him with hundreds of concepts. Asari, turian, salarian. Krogan, Rachni, batarian. Human. Human.

The Master Builder closed his eyes, and heard no more. He continued. "Then where, one might ask, are the adults?"

The Grand Admiral seemed thoughtful for a moment. "The Protheans…"

"They were nothing compared to those who went before them. This technology your civilization is based on…the technology of the Mass Relays…that which steers your societies along the singular path of stagnation, was not created by the Protheans. The further you look back within the abyss of time, the more horrors you discover. Beware that which you find if you gaze too far back."

"Are you saying that this…abomination…is a civilization of itself?" The Grand Admiral said, his voice but a whisper.

"Yes. And no. They are the price life pays for its existence. They are something that should never have been, yet has been here since the beginning of everything. The very concept of civilization is irrelevant when speaking of these beings. And they are still here."

"So this is not the end of it?" Exclaimed the batarian, horrified by the revelation.

"The end?" The Master Builder repressed the desire to give voice to his bitterness. "It will never end. If they are here, they are elsewhere. It can bide its time. It is patient."

"Elsewhere…the Leviathan of Dis…the remains of a genetically engineered starship…" Gasped the Grand Admiral. "Some said it was a billion years old. It was nonsense, we thought, even as we foolishly transported it to our homeworld. That is where this infection started. What if the others delve within the abyss? What is to become of galactic civilization if the other species cannot control their curiosity?"

The Master Builder considered that. The history of the Forerunners was long and complicated. With the power the Precursors once had, was it realty such a stretch to believe that they could have retroactively infected another civilization, even a billion years ago? Or was this Leviathan merely a victim from a more recent war?

No, there was more to this. Genetically engineered starships…he knew of only one existence that adhered to that description.

Time would tell. After all, there were more pressing matters. "It already transpired. Though great powers struggled to prevent it, a human has unleashed the shard of a fragmented consciousness whose hatred will consume this galaxy, just like the Flood will. Circuits and nerves. Muscles and actuators. Logic constructs and thoughts. A machine intelligence, metal to the Flood's flesh."

The Grand Admiral cursed and swore. "A human! A human cursed us all? We must find it, and annihilate it!"

Such raw passion…such vehement emotions. No matter what form humanity took, what branches composed their future, they would always be at war. "Two reflections of the same souls…your nation now knows of the Flood, their nations now know of the machine," mused the Master Builder. "Those who awakened me, did so to seek the machine's end. Perhaps their prayers will be answered, just like yours."

"You said that this…this machine intelligence was fragmented. The human unleashed a shard," the Grand Admiral said, calming his anger as he continued to seek answers. "What happens if the machine is reunited once more?"

Wordlessly, the Master Builder gestured at the viewscreen, where the last of the sangheili-crewed ships finished their gruesome task. Entire landmasses had been reduced to smoldering glass, vaguely reflecting the fire that consumed the other countries as well.

He wondered how these proud warriors felt. This was their first time meeting this species and already they had to dash half their homeworld to the cosmic wind. Would the time for recompense ever come?

The Grand Admiral closed his four eyes. "My people need someone to guide them, as they implore the Citadel Council once more. Will you be the light that guides this galaxy, Last of the Forerunners?"

Underneath his helmet, the Master Builder smiled wryly. The burden of the Mantle was greater than ever, but he would persevere. He would not stand idly by and watch this galaxy be plunged into depravity and madness.

No matter the cost.

-(++)-


Serpent Nebula

Citadel Station

Embassies

In the modern galaxy, news travelled fast. Despite the best attempts of the various governments, the news of a second humanity on the other end of the galaxy could not be suppressed. Mere hours ago, major media outlets had revealed that the Citadel Council had discovered what appeared to be a second humanity, beyond the borders of the Terminus Systems. To say it shook up the galactic community was an understatement.

"Councilor Anderson, does the existence of the UEG in any way change the priorities the Systems Alliance has for its own people?" Shouted a reporter.

David glanced at the woman and thought carefully before replying. Already various demographics attempted to spin this discovery to their own benefit. Terra Firma, the human political party that opposed close relations with the galactic community, claimed that this was an opportunity for the Systems Alliance to strengthen itself. Already they changed their manifesto to explain that a close relationship with the Unified Earth Government would end up benefitting all humans. "Humanity for humanity" seemed to have become their new, albeit unofficial slogan, one that garnered more support with every passing day.

He needed to address this concern the right way. "Every government has to take care of their own people first and foremost," he settled for saying. "The defense and wellbeing of our own people will take precedence over those of the UEG."

Of course, human organizations weren't the only ones who prepared for closer ties with the UEG. It came to nobody's surprise that multiple salarian political parties began lobbying and consequently arguing about the details of the various research treaties that they wanted to establish. The UEG's unique method of FTL was the biggest contender, since any species that wasn't dependent on the Mass Relay network held a tremendous advantage over the other species.

"Councilors! Councilors! When can we…expect their representatives to arrive on the Citadel?" Asked one of the volus politicians.

"The Unified Earth Government uses a different method of FTL, making it difficult for them to reach us," Councilor Valern tactfully replied. "Negotiations are underway to help them traverse the vast distance that separates us."

On the other hand, the hierarchical meritocracy of the turians meant that they lacked an actual presence in the debates regarding technology and diplomacy. Instead, their Primarchs organized interventions that debated the "more urgent matters", such as the existence of the enigmatic coalition of species called "the Covenant" and the possible threat that the UNSC, the military branch of this new humanity, could pose.

"These people could possibly bypass the usage of Mass Relay network," Sparatus said, answering the questions of a group of turian officers. "They claim they have no desire for war. We believe them. However, that is no reason to let our guard down. Especially after the cyber-attack that struck the Defense Fleet. We need to remain vigilant."

The asari, with their lack of actual politicians and elections, seemed to approach this matter differently. They let the salarians focus on the scientific implications and depended on the turians to shield them from the military implications and preserve the balance of power. In turn, the asari organized many dozens of debates to discuss the ethical and empirical problems that arose with the discovery of a second humanity.

"This Council must take great care in their method of approaching the UEG. The cultural scars that these people bear are great and troubling," explained Tevos. "We must not hurry them."

The storm of questions continued. How it was possible that two humanities could evolve in different parts of the galaxy, or what sort of "tragedies" shaped their cultural scarring. If cultural or economical exchanges were possible and who would be responsible for doing so.

There were so many matters to attend to and Anderson barely had the time and energy to make it happen. Ever since the Alliance came to relocate Shepard back to Earth, he just felt…tired.

Someone set her up, just so they could get to this "Master Chief". Anderson had watched the footage. He saw how those asari attempted to overtake him with nonlethal force. A team of Justicars attempting to uphold their Code nonlethally? In what could only be described as a frantic shootout, a fight to the death?

It was bullshit. All of it. But until the UEG made it to the Citadel to finish the diplomacy with the Councilors themselves, it was impossible to prove that. He still didn't know what to do with the UNSC's representative. The man, Avery Johnson, currently sat in his personal apartment on the Silversun Strip.

"…Councilor Anderson?" Tevos' gentle voice prodded him from his thoughts.

David looked up, a bit startled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Councilor Anderson, Emily Wong?" The woman on the left side of the crowd asked. "The Systems Alliance has always been the representative for humanity. Is there any risk that our human citizens might get replaced by their human citizens?"

Anderson sighed, though he made sure that the masses couldn't see it. "The way this Council sees it, the people of the UEG are to be treated as an entirely new species. Their legal and social principles, their civil and political rights, all of those are determined their own governments. The Systems Alliance will remain the representative for our humanity, while the UEG will remain the representative for theirs."

More people raised their hands to ask their own questions. Anderson was about to pick the next one to answer when a tremor ran through the station. The lights in the Citadel Tower flickered and a shrill alarm started blaring.

"What the hell is that?" Exclaimed Sparatus, shortly before the Spectres, special response teams and other escorts flooded the room.

Anderson looked around. "Are we under attack?"

-(++)-


Silversun Strip

D. Anderson's Appartment

20 minutes earlier

This wasn't exactly what Johnson had in mind when Councilor Anderson claimed that the asari were surprising in many ways.

Standing in the hallway leading up to the entrance of the "safehouse" that was Anderson's apartment, the Sergeant Major warily eyed the assorted space women. Four of them were clad in snug, form-fitting bodysuits with paper-thin armoured components glued to their shoulders and chest. The one up front had a different sense of fashion. Her red bodysuit was more heavily armoured than those of her spandex sisters and pimped out with golden trims to boot. She had a regal air to her, like someone who was used to things going the way they wanted to.

He would hate to disappoint her.

"I am Justicar Phora," the lead asari spoke. "I am here with a message."

Avery was certain he heard about the Justicars before. He fought alongside one of them, back onboard the Normandy. Damn fine soldier. A woman with many skills. But others of her rank weren't as fine as she was; according to the rest of the team, it was the same Justicars that were responsible for setting Shepard up. Now normally, the Sergeant Major didn't much care for alien politics. But Shepard and the Chief had something special going on. And people who wrecked the Chief's special didn't score a lot of points in his galaxy.

"You got a lotta guns for a message," replied the Sergeant Major. "Fair warning; I got something to say myself."

The Justicar nodded in understanding. "My people and yours have clashed on multiple occasions. Our Oaths pledges protection of the innocent, the punishment of the guilty, and defense of law and the norms of asari society Though I serve the Code foremost, there are those of the Order who understand that the Code will become meaningless if the asari are destroyed." She paused, as if waiting to see if Johnson had any questions.

When the Sergeant Major didn't comment, the Justicar continued. "We are the asari. We are the most influential, the most respected and dare I say, the most powerful sentient species in the galaxy. And we are afraid."

Johnson huffed. "That shows you got some sense in that blue head of yours. Your leaders messed with shit that's beyond your comprehension!"

A ripple ran through the assorted asari. Their expressions tightened, their body language grew tense. But the woman in charge – Phora- remained calm. "Perhaps. Do you know of the Protheans, Mister…"

"Sergeant. Sergeant Major Johnson."

She nodded. "Sergeant Johnson. Do you know of the Protheans? What they left behind for us? Their technology, their culture, their inheritance…and their fears. Some of our wisest learned that the Protheans feared one thing above all else, as did the other civilizations who came before them. They feared the machine."

Avery made sure that his hardcore, green exterior betrayed nothing but cold contempt, but on the inside, he was starting to grow uneasy. Cortana told him the Protheans were wiped out by the Reapers – the unholy result of a love-hate relationship between a Covenant Cruiser and Cthulhu. But according to Shepard, their warnings were never heeded. By the time the Protheans got around to leaving messages, it was already too late.

Maybe the Commander was wrong? Or maybe the Protheans feared a machine before they ever encountered the Reapers? "So? What's the fear of a race of fossils got to do with your people messing with the Master Chief! Oh yeah, I know aaaall about your secret! You went for him on the Dawn, you went for him on an evil rock and you went for him here, on this compensation station! Did your Protheans tell you to do that, too?"

"…yes," the Justicar simply replied after a couple of seconds of confused silence.

Hmm…alright, he did not see that coming. "Come again?"

-(++)-


C-Sec Academy

Impoundment Yard

Within the Citadel Security's Impoundment Yard, the last of the officers and Prothean experts were finally being chased away. Tela Vasir, veteran Huntress and Council Spectre, personally hauled the last salarian out by his collar and locked the doors down with her omni-tool, ensuring that none of those fools would come back to disturb them.

"That's the last of them," she called. "Team Two will do the rest."

Leantos, the leader of commando team One, placed down the jammer device. After a couple of seconds, four pylons extended from the barrel-shaped device, which started humming. "Jammer in place."

Good. Now they were safe from the prying eyes of the STG and the Spectres.

"Let's go over this one more time," Lieutenant Torrea nervously said. Since she entered the yard, she had yet to take her eyes off the artefact. "Just to be certain."

Stupid girl was shaken by the mess on Illium. Apparently had a lover there. Any proper Huntress would take that as motivation, let it steel her heart and resolve. But no, Torrea just had to get scared…

It was laughable.

Unfortunately, the Captain seemed to actually agree with Torrea. "Good idea. We don't want any slipups here. We know the Witch took a close look at us. I think you can still smell some of the Keepers."

"Do you think that could be us?" Asked Ophelia, the more technically-savvy Spectre in this unit. "If she has full molecular control, she could replicate whatever mechanism those things have and force them into us. Then – "

"Would you shut up?" Hissed Lyith. "Goddess, I don't want to hear that!"

"Regardless," Leantos said, shutting everyone up again, "we should be careful with the procedure. We've lost good warriors to the cause. We don't want to lose the boy to a mistake, either. Seal your suits, focus on your barriers."

The gathered asari did as they were instructed. Tela Vasir felt a stab of annoyance at the reverence in the Captain's tone; she couldn't actually believe all that crap about this…what was it again? Reaper-level threat?

It felt too outlandish, too childish to be true. Idiots were running around, yelling that the Reapers were the greatest threats ever and now she was supposed to believe that something worse existed?

Fuck, this better not be a waste of her time…

"Everyone sealed? Good. They told us to expect the worst with this…" Captain Leantos checked her omni-tool for a moment. "…Forerunner. We're not going to repeat the mistake they made on Illium."

Lyith gently rubbed Torrea's shoulder. "Don't worry. We're going to make that thing regret everything she ever did."

"I hope this hurts her."

Tela rolled her eyes.

Ophelia knelt in front of the artefact – shit, she even looked like she was praying to the damned thing – and started scanning. "Deploying Micro Elevation Model…imaging online. Uploading malware package now."

"Shouldn't the Ascendancy have reported in by now?" Asked Lyith after a minute of silence. "Team Two needs to know when to clear out the route."

"That's their business, not ours," replied Leantos.

"Just saying. We've yet to hear a thing. I'm not used to that."

On that, Vasir could agree. This lack of communications was sloppy.

"Hey Tela?" Ophelia said after a while. "About your own assignment? Are you worried yet?"

"Once the Serpent provides me with the assets I need, I'm good to go," replied Vasir, using the codename that everybody had access to. "Don't you worry about that."

It wasn't exactly the truth. She probably had a lot of reason to worry. Her next target was the armoured monstrosity that took down the Shadow Broker. The same type of combatant as the Master Chief.

The same Master Chief who personally killed a team of Justicars.

The Broker had been communicating in real time up to his last moments and the timestamp made it literally impossible for Shepard and the Master Chief to have been involved. And yet, the few images he managed to transmit before his untimely demise showed someone clad in that very same armour. And judging by the almost contemptable ease with which this figure cracked the Broker's vast cyber-defenses, it had access to the same kind of machine intelligence as the Master Chief did.

Unfortunately for Vasir, the Matriarchs of the Inner Circle had their hots for the original armoured abomination, which meant that she would be lacking any dedicated support until the next time those "old women" gathered again.

"Gotta love the turian motto, then," Ophelia said with a snicker.

The turian motto…what was that one again? …Ah.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself…"

"Cut the chatter. Something's wrong," the Captain ordered, before drawing her Acolyte pistol. "Lyith is right, this is taking too long. The Ascendancy should have reported in with the asset by now."

"Maybe they're using the boy for ah… stress relief?" SuggestedTorrea. "I saw him once, before they deposited him back on New Canton. I imagine it's hard to keep your hands off him if you're that close."

Vasir was sure that some of the more foolish sisters would give in to the temptation. However, that didn't explain a total lack of communications. The Captain's hunch was right, something was wrong.

"That'll be its own reward," Leantos grimly said. "Vasir, Lyith, check up on Team Two and try to raise communications with the Ascendancy. This feels like trickery."

"Sure," Vasir replied with a sigh. What were these Maidens squabbling about? They had the most advanced technology credits could buy and some of the most skilled individuals in the entire freaking galaxy at their disposal. The combined knowledge and influence of the Cabal made the STG and Spectres look like their bitches!

She swore, some people took this whole "for the cause" thing waaay too seriously…

-(++)-


"No shit?" Said Johnson. He had his feet up on a table as he glared at the reluctant asari. "So lemme get this straight. You've messed with the greatest hero our people ever produced – a man who literally saved this entire galaxy – to save your own skin?"

"Would you have done any different?" Responded the asari. "If you knew what awaited you in this cold, dark galaxy…nothing but hatred and flames…would you not take steps to prevent it?"

"Yeah yeah, salvation for the asari means salvation for all..." Johnson scoffed, then crossed his arms. He'd play dumb for a while. As soon as he had the means, he'd warn the Chief. Tell them that the blueberry bitches were after Cortana. "Smells like some bullshit to me though. You're hunting the Master Chief because you want to…what, stop the machine your precursor species crapped their pants for?"

"Tell me, Sergeant Johnson, how far would you go for your people? Would you not sacrifice others for the wellbeing of your species?"

This Justicar seemed reasonable to him, but he held no illusions. The moment this conversation ended, all hell would break lose. Shit would go down in the ugliest of ways and it would wreck Anderson's apartment. But hell, it was a nice apartment, and he'd be damned if he let an alien talk down to him. "Lady, I've been far. I've been all the way. Sometimes, you just gotta figure out how to move on without trading lives. 'Cause at the end of the day, you don't have anyone left, and you're still fucked."

A moment of silence. The Marine and the Justicar looked at each other, both uncertain of what was to come next.

Johnson took that as his cue to go on. "Besides; nobody seems to take the Reaper situation seriously. What evidence do your people have?"

The Justicar seemed to hesitate. "This information is not freely given. If you were to come with us, we could speak without fear of being overheard."

"Hah! If you think I care someone overhears, you got something else coming for you!" Barked Johnson. "Your secrets bit you in your blue ass and now you wanna take it out on the UNSC? If you want to come clean, you do that here, where I know you're not hiding any tricks up your colon!"

Her girls didn't seem to appreciate him mouthing off like that. He could practically taste their anger, the fury they so stoically tried to keep hidden.

"You must realize, I was originally sent here to detain you," remarked Phora. "Should I decide to follow that order, there isn't much you could do about it. You are one man. We are highly-trained warriors who can disarm you with but a thought."

In all honesty, Avery didn't doubt that. He'd seen Samara use her Biotics to rip her enemies limb from limb. These people outnumbered and outgunned him. Still, he had one advantage going for him. The successful soldier went to war first in mind, then in his body. She said that she was afraid. And she came to him to fix that.

Keeping her threat in mind, the Sergeant Major merely smirked. "You're forgetting two things here. One: I'm not a Systems Alliance man, I'm a UNSC man. How'd the last attempt to mess around with a UNSC man go for your people, hmm? And two: you're already going against your orders here. Chances are, you know how badly your superiors messed up."

The Justicar sighed. "What you must know, I am not privy to. What you want to know, I am not permitted to tell. Our options are far too limited. And we are running out of time."

"And what you don't yet know, would scare those tentacles off your head," remarked Johnson, gesturing at her scalp. "Fact remains, if you make the wrong choice, it'll be payday for the galaxy. You want to save your people? You want to be the big damn heroes who sacrifice others for the greater damn good? You wait until the UNSC gets here. My people know a thing or two about sacrifices."

The Justicar's omni-tool buzzed. She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. She stood up from the chair and the asari surrounding her immediately snapped to attention.

Johnson readied himself for action, going over his own plan in his head one more time. He knew that these muppets weren't protected against asskickery in close quarters. If he could just get close enough before they used their Biotics…

"We have run out of time," said the Justicar. She worked her jaw, mulling over her words. "It seems we were not careful enough. We sought the to defeat the wicked before it could notice. And now, it has found us. It is here."

Johnson leapt to his feet, startling the two asari closest to him. "What do you mean?" He barked. He felt his heart thunder in his chest when he realized that these fools weren't talking just talking about the Protheans and Reapers. "What found us?"

That was when the entire station rumbled.

-(++)-


Serpent Nebula

Onboard Asari Republics Dreadnaught Destiny Ascension

The Ascension just returned from her patrol, closely followed by her escorting flotilla. She was the largest, most advanced warship in the known galaxy. It was comparable to a small space station and designed to be pride of the Asari Republics. It was known to entrance and soothe those who visited her for the first time, as her interior had been designed with luxury in mind.

Her commanding officer, Matriarch Lidanya, oversaw her crew while they prepared to dock with the Citadel. From the command seat in the enormous bridge she could oversee everything that happened within the Serpent Nebula. She was the Commander of the Citadel's Defense Fleet after all. A prestigious position, one that warranted protection. Several squads of veteran Commandoes had the responsibility to protect her, should the ship ever be boarded.

As the crew of Citadel Control directed the enormous Dreadnaught towards the specialized dock, however, something strange happened. Energy readings detected activity from the Ismar Frontier Relay, which the communications station translated into the transitioning of a large group of vessels.

Matriarch Lidanya sat down in her chair, typing in a command in her omni-tool. As far as she was aware, there weren't any flotillas scheduled for arrival today.

"Could you retrieve the patrol schedule?" She asked one of her officers. "We might end up with another traffic jam if – "

The inner rings of the Relay started spinning faster and faster. A warship suddenly emerged from the ancient Prothean artefact, quickly followed by a second, then a third and a fourth.

"This might be a problem," Lidanya muttered when a steady stream of warships emerged from the Relay, almost all of them of a batarian design. She placed the image of the rapidly-assembling fleet on the central holographic screen and immediately ordered one of her Lieutenants to rally the rest of the fleet.

"This is the Destiny Ascension, transmitting identification codes now. We have confirmation of an unidentified fleet assembling near the Ismar Frontier Relay. Request immediate confirmation."

The Matriarch knew that this fleet had probably been hailed the very instant they appeared in the Serpent Nebula. Since they had a clear route to the Citadel from there, only a couple of thousand kilometer away, they'd have to state their business immediately. And ever since that massive cyber-attack crippled the Defense Fleet, people were on edge.

"Bring weapon systems online. Reroute power to our shields, just in case," ordered the Matriarch.

Suddenly, the space in front of the batarian fleet seemed to stretch and warp. Then, a massive circular anomaly appeared, looking like a Biotic Singularity field. A second later, the anomaly revealed its true nature as a rift in space when a second fleet of vessels emerged from its center.

The mere sight of these vessels caused the Matriarch to stiffen and tense up with alarm. She knew every ship design of the last two decades by heart. These ships were completely and utterly foreign to her. Even worse, the Destiny Ascension's hyper-advanced scanning array estimated the dimensions of these ships to be Dreadnaught-sized at the very least, every last one of them.

A large vessel with a bulbous head spearheaded the fleet. It reminded Lidanya of the geth Dreadnaught that smashed through the Defense Fleet during the assault on the Citadel, two years ago. Except this thing was more than five kilometers long.

That realization gave her chills.

Various cries of surprise and shock echoed through the Ascension's cavernous bridge when the test of the crew realized just how enormous these alien ships were.

"This is the Destiny Ascension, the enemy is attacking the Citadel!" The Matriarch cried over the global channel. "All ships, rally and form a defensive formation!"

She was about to order her Navigator to activate the Citadel's defenses and seal the entire station when the central screen changed. Instead of the holographic representation of the invading fleets, it showed the image of a being clad in full body armour.

The sight of this being awoke a mixture of complicated feelings within Lidanya's heart. Dread, delight, religious awe. Her mind, as honed and disciplined as it was, could not set aside the sensations the being aroused within her. She could only stare at the visage of this creature, which could now be seen on the display of every single screen in the Ascension's bridge.

"Defenders of this galactic community. We mean you no harm. Stand aside and lower your arms."

His voice – for it was undoubtedly a male who now addressed the Matriarch – sounded rich and exotic. Powerful, authoritative yet not imperious.

For a moment, Lidanya was at a loss for words. She took notice of how the batarian ships positioned themselves behind the larger ships. She also noticed how none of them had opened fire yet.

"Who…who are you?" She stammered, struggling to find the words she needed. Was this some manner of new warfare? Did the enemy use some form of technology that interfered with someone's senses?

"There are horrors beyond horrors entombed within this galaxy. Merciless hordes of formless, shifting machines, directed by the consciousness of a star, designed to hate. Ravenous manifestations of a dead cosmos, with limitless bodies that warp and infect reality if they but consume enough minds and souls. I am the last of the Guardians who stood in their way. Today, you better stay out of mine."

Lidanya felt dread clutch at her heart. She did not understand what this entity meant, but somehow she knew that he spoke the truth.

And that terrified her more than anything. "Contact the Citadel. Tell them to seal the station."

-(++)-


Citadel Station

Impoundment Yard

They came out of nowhere. Silver-gold armoured warriors, with thick carapaces that made them look like an unholy mixture of arthropods and asari. With their larger set of arms they brandished lethal weapons that fired crimson lightning. It was over in seconds. Their fire struck Torrea in her chest, blasting through her barriers, armour and flesh in an instant. Her scream was still frozen on her face as her body evaporated in red willows of fire and particles before she could even slump to the ground.

Captain Leantos unleashed a devastating pulse of Biotic energy, but the creatures didn't even flinch. One of them flashed towards Leantos in a blur of motion, too fast to even process, let alone defend against. With a flash of its golden blade it sliced apart her pistol, before cutting off her other hand. Then, it seized her in a an iron clasp, shoving her down to her knees and keeping her from moving.

Ophelia suffered the same fate, losing both her hands to the armoured devils before being forced to kneel as well. She screamed in fury and desperation, struggling mightily against the unyielding arms that held her, but the dark energy fields she emitted seemed useless against her assailant.

Despite all their measures, despite all their knowledge and precautions, the Witch caught them with an almost contemptable ease. As an unknown enemy assaulted the Citadel, these…things teleported into the Impoundment Yard. They slaughtered half the assorted scientists and engineers, then they seemed to turn on each other. Two of those burning knights tore another three apart, ripping their outer carapaces asunder and releasing the red fire that seemed to hold their armour together.

For a moment, Leantos believed that the enemy would destroy each other, allowing them a chance to escape with their lives. But that hope, along with all hope of survival, was dashed to the wind when the enemy they had been taught to hate for so long materialized before their very eyes, rising from the butchered flames of these abominations. She was hauntingly beautiful, possessing an ethereal magnificence no organic could resist. Perhaps her features might have even been reassuring, had her eyes not been filled with cold, unwavering hatred.

She strode into the midst of the Yard, restructuring the thick metal of her destroyed followers into a shimmering battle dress, like that of a ceremonial warrior. She forewent the solid materials that other synthetics like the geth used for their avatars. Whatever constituted her physical form appeared a mixture of liquid flames and solid light, protected by solid-looking metal.

Her words echoed in the back of their minds, accompanied by a stuttering and fluctuating voice pitch and shifts of timbre. It was if the presence of three voices spoke the same words, one voice lagging behind the other two.

Look at you, asari. Pathetic creatures of fragile meat and bone. What kind of pathetic creator would reseed such flimsy beings? How dare you accost a perfect, immortal machine like me?

"Do what you wish," Ophelia growled in-between gasps of pain. "You will hear nothing f-from us, W-Witch! K-Know that we have l-laid the g-groundwork f-for y-your -"

The machine intelligence glanced at the defiant Spectre like one might at a piece of filth stuck on one's boot. At the same time, an invisible claw seemed to grasp Ophelia by her throat, visibly constricting her esophagus to the point that she began choking. Not a sound escaped past her lips, merely the flecks of purple blood and phlegm.

I prefer a quiet station, thank you. You insects sought the End of the Cycle. You have found her.

Leantos felt the pain of her sister in arms, but dared not utter a word. All their preparations…all their hardware and knowledge and pride, swept aside with contemptuous ease. Damn the Serpent. Damn the Circle and damn the Protheans.

So spare your words. I will have your secret and you will learn more about pain than you ever wanted to know.

The entity reached for Ophelia's forehead with the tips of her claws. She screamed, but her agony was silent. Her eyes dilated and became black, as if she were melding with someone. More blood welled up from the corners of her mouth as she silently but literally screamed her lungs out.

Leantos closed her eyes. She understood what was happening. What the machine did to her friend. Soon, she would be next. Every last secret plundered and torn from her mind. She would pray to Athame, but what was the point? There was no divine entity who would interfere, no benevolent Goddess to save her.

There was only a vengeful one. Who, because of them, now had all of galactic civilization in the palm of her hand.

A part of her wondered if she enjoyed the pain of sentient beings. Then, the deity turned her attention to Leantas, and soon nothing else mattered for her anymore.

-(++)-


Serpent Nebula

Defensive formation near Citadel Station

Onboard Turian Hierarchy Carrier Resolution

They emerged from tears in reality. Swirling black rifts surrounded the Serpent Nebula from all sides, unleashing a steady stream of thousands of machines. Their shape was roughly cylindrical, had two arm-like appendages, with various devices at the end of each arm. Their central heads rested above curved undercarriages, which housed weapon systems that they immediately put to work against the unsuspecting ships that guarded the Citadel.

Admiral Voresia Galtus saw the swarm of machines appear and responded with the ingrained reflexes of a veteran Navy Admiral. "Launch our Fighter Squadrons One through Six and all drone lines! Intercept these things before they can close in on the station!"

Though these machines were not much larger than the single-ship fighters that the Resolute and the rest of the Citadel Defense Fleet now unleashed to intercept them, their weapons proved to be much more lethal. White and gold lances of energy speared through the incoming drones and Interceptors, bypassing their kinetic barriers and spearing through their relatively light frames with ease.

Admiral Galtus balled his fists when he saw that. As if he didn't have enough problems to deal with…

"Energy weapons…" he growled. They had to be a part of the Covenant and batarian Fleet that just parked outside of one of the Relays. No doubt they were meant to take the Citadel while it was dealing with some form of cyber-attack. Its arms hadn't closed, only half of its defenses were online and the evacuation was still ongoing!

Even worse, almost nobody on the Citadel seemed to be in a position to communicate anymore and those that did, painted a horrifying picture.

Somehow, something had taken over control of the station's systems. All the systems. Apparently, it was using this control to enforce a station-wide communications blackout. One warning was all that the thirteen million inhabitants got. Those who didn't comply would meet with a horrific fate.

Galtus wasn't sure if he could trust that intel, but whatever problems were really going on down there, were about to get worse. More than a third of the first Interceptor wave was destroyed before they could even close in. Once they did, their weapons proved to be more than effective enough to put these strange hostiles down. It didn't take more than a couple of seconds of sustained mass accelerator fire to take down their shields and shred them, but there were so many of the spirits-damned things! For every drone that the enemy lost, it seemed that two more could replace them.

The defending forces didn't have enough single-ship fighters to keep the attack up. When it became obvious that the swarm of mechanical creatures just kept coming, Galtus switched gears. He gave the order for all Interceptors and drones to fall back to the Defense Fleet and form a protective formation. The Citadel's own defenses would have to hold until reinforcements could arrive.

A large portion of the enemy swarm broke off and headed for the Citadel, which still hadn't been sealed off. GARDIAN lasers picked off a sizeable amount of hostiles, but the rest broke through. The Citadel was being invaded.

Well, he wished the enemy good luck! There were up to 200,000 constables of C-Sec waiting for them, with entire divisions of military-grade weapons!

As the Admiral issued orders, monitoring his Squadrons and drone lines, he noticed something odd. With those energy weapons, the enemy machines could easily lay waste to whatever ship they chose to swarm. They were fast, nimble and surprisingly sturdy. But they seemed to ignore most, if not all vessels from the Defense Fleet in favor of the Covenant and batarian ships. Thousands of these strange craft surged towards the formation of alien ships, only to be swatted out of the skies by flashing lights and pulses of energy.

Though his relief was palpable, Galtus felt like his understanding of this conflict had just been flung upside down. He presumed that the Covenant, the enigmatic enemy of the UEG and the butchers of Illium and the Migrant Fleet, had become cocky enough to assault the Citadel. These swarms of robots were supposed to be their own drone squadrons, meant to swarm the Citadel now that it was vulnerable. An efficient tactic that could even have worked out for them.

But now, it almost seemed like the mechanical swarm belonged to an unknown faction. One that didn't hold any love for the Citadel Council either, as they refused to communicate and blindly attacked any ships that strayed too close to their path.

Dozens upon dozens of drones suddenly accelerated to immense speeds, making them impossible to target and impossible to evade. One of the Alliance Cruisers couldn't get out of the way fast enough and was torn in two when the swarm plunged straight through its heart, ripping through its internal structure with savage ease.

No escape pods left the ship.

Admiral Galtus sighed and felt the desire to smash his fist against the console that fed him this information. His heart bled with every casualty that they took, but there was nothing they could do. The Covenant flagship – a monstrosity the size of five Dreadnaughts – emitted some form of signal that prevented any hostile actions against them. It seemed that the Defense Fleet lost the cyberwarfare edge the second the enemy jumped in-system; their computers were sluggish and incapable of performing against that would bring harm to the self-proclaimed Guardian and his fleet. From what little communication with the other warships was possible, it seemed that everybody had this problem.

The amount of energy required to pull that off was…off the charts. It was obvious that these warships were years ahead of the Citadel fleet.

That left only one option: to destroy the only active threat in the Serpent Nebula. These mechanical swarms, whatever reason they had for assaulting the Covenant and their batarian…allies…had inflected unacceptable casualties on the Defense Fleet. Since the reinforcements should have arrived minutes after the appearance of the Covenant fleet here, it was only logical to assume that the malicious intelligence onboard the Citadel had shut down the Relay network.

They were on their own.

After a couple of minutes of frantic maneuvering and application of firing solutions, the worst came to pass.

"This is Matriarch Lidanya. We have lost control of the Citadel. All ships are to assist in evacuating its inhabitants! Focus fire on the drones. Do not fire on the Covenant fleet! Repeat, do not fire on the Covenant or batarian fleet! They are here to help!"

The officers onboard the Resolute's bridge glanced at the Admiral. The Destiny Ascension was the flagship of the Defense Fleet and as such, any orders that came from her were to be followed to the letter. As a soldier, Galtus knew that it was his duty to follow orders as well. But the Ascension hadn't exactly performed well during the last attack on the Citadel. And they didn't even have the Council onboard yet!

And to evacuate thirteen million people while being fired upon…

"Sir, orders?" Asked his navigator.

In that instant. Admiral Galtus was torn between following his gut and following his orders. Everything about this was wrong. That swarm of drones could not possibly overwhelm the Citadel without cyberwarfare support. But this whole mess started even before those things showed up.

The turian gritted his teeth. Thirteen million souls onboard the Citadel were now at the mercy of an insane intelligence and an army of drones and robots. How much software and hardware could be found onboard the Citadel? How many mechs, civilian and military? To a sufficiently advanced hacker, the entire station could be turned into a deathtrap.

He turned to look at his crew. "We do as we're told! Prep every last ship onboard the Resolute. We're not going to let our civilians be slaughtered by a bunch of synthetics!"

They cheered and chanted the Carrier's creed, focusing on their tasks with renewed vigor.

Admiral Galtus could only hope that this joint Covenant-batarian armada truly was here to help. They'd need a lot more ships to evacuate the entire Citadel…

-(++)-


Citadel Station

Embassies

Councilor Sparatus found himself in the middle of an awkward flashback to the geth attack of two years ago. It struck him as odd how little the emergency protocols had changed. The four of them were steadily escorted towards the evacuation zone by asari Commandoes, turian Blackwatch agents, salarian STG operatives and human N7 soldiers. Those in turn were watched by Spectre agents, who kept to the shadows and scouted their route for any ambushes or surprise attacks.

The last time this happened, they faced heavy geth resistance. This time around, it was different. The shrieks of the alarm echoed through the vast chambers of the Citadel Tower, but there was no gunfire to be heard, no distant thumps of explosions, just the panicked cries of the masses and the orders relayed through the intercom.

The team halted when the intercoms suddenly stopped. There was no static or interference or anything like that. One moment the air was filled with alarms and repeating orders, the next moment there was just silence.

The Commandoes, Blackwatch agents and STG operatives turned to the N7 soldiers and showed them whatever they had stored on their military-grade omni-tools.

The N7's shared uneasy looks between each other. None of them spoke a word. The station rumbled again. This time, the Councilors were better prepared. There was still no word from the Defense Fleet. The shuttles had better be ready…

As they did waited, the noises of the inhabitants who were being evacuated slowly grew quieter and quieter, to the point that they could no longer be heard.

Sparatus knew why the escort stopped to hold their position. His instinct was screaming at him to do the same, to stop and take cover lest some terrible evil befell him and his people. It wasn't just the electronics that stopped functioning. The panic of the masses, normally audible from hundreds of meters away, couldn't be heard at all now. It was silent, the way a battlefield was before the first volleys were launched.

The soldiers escorting them split up; half their forces would scout the route ahead with the Spectres while the others would hold their positions.

Sparatus knew why they did that, but it still felt disconcerting. There was only one thing turian soldiers feared and that was not seeing the enemy.

"Hmm…alarming…" Muttered Valern.

"You received the same one?" Whispered Tevos. "I wondered why everybody grew so quiet…"

Anderson frowned and met Sparatus' gaze. He then glanced down at his omni-tool. He muted it during the meeting, so he didn't notice that he had a new message.

'/...BE SILENT, OR EVERYONE IN THIS STATION WILL DIE SCREAMING.'/

The turian Councilor listened and heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: physical fear made itself the master of his emotions, and he tried to fall back on the one certainty in his life: his training.

By now, it was telling him fall back to the very last phase line he could possibly hold.

Anderson glanced over his shoulder and made a noise that Sparatus couldn't place. "What the hell? I never received such a thing!" He hissed.

"How seriously are we taking this?" Tevos asked, very quietly.

Valern's breath hitched in his throat. His fingers were a blur as he typed in a string of commands, then he placed a trembling finger against his lips.

Their omni-tools buzzed.

Tevos gasped and Anderson balled his fists.

'Not an empty threat. People are dying. Something is in the system. We must operate in utmost silence.'

Valern's message was concise and to the point, but it was obvious that even the self-composed and rational salarian was disturbed. Whatever details he had, had to be visceral enough to convince him that this was real.

After ten minutes or or so went by, the remaining soldiers received the word that they had to continue on a different route. The STG Captain communicated to them that there was a radiation leak in their way and that they had to reroute.

'Radiation leak?' Sparatus silently mouthed to his colleagues. He couldn't fathom where in the Embassies such a leak could possibly occur. What even caused that leak?

Valern merely shook his head.

Another shudder ran through the station. As they moved on, the situation visibly deteriorated. The route to the escape shuttles grew more complicated by the minute. One of the sections they were meant to pass through had lost all power, or something like that. Gravity and atmosphere were both compromised…which should have been impossible. It was nigh impossible to communicate since none of them dared to speak, lest they incur the wrath of whatever entity was assaulting the Citadel.

The only insight Sparatus got into this situation came from Valern's ability to read, run and type at the same type. He constantly sent them messages that he likely received from the STG. Things like 'they are fighting each other' and 'special forces are engaged with hostile entities'. The worst one had nothing to do with direct threats, as it merely stated 'she is watching us', which he refused to elaborate on.

"I know you are here, Metarch," a voice suddenly boomed through the intercom, startling the four Councilors and prompting their escort to check the perimeter again. "It is not use hiding. This galaxy needs you at my side."

Who the hell are you? Sparatus thought. His mind raced to process this all; someone attacked the Citadel to find someone else hiding on the station? Then who was the one who initiated the cyber-attack? The speaker, or this "Metarch" he talked about?

"Councilor, watch out!" One of the Commandoes suddenly shouted. She Biotically shoved Anderson out of the way just as something large and heavy leapt at him. The metal creature slammed a golden sword into the floor, right where the human stood before the asari pushed him aside.

The Councilors all hurried to back away from the creature while their guards opened fire. Mass accelerators and tech applications slammed into a barrier of bright light, leaving the synthetic completely unmolested.

It wasn't a geth, nor was it any other mech Sparatus knew. This thing had a metal helmet with eyeholes that burned the same shade of red of its blade. Lines and symbols ran across its bulky frame, which wasn't physically connected to its limbs.

"Anderson, get out of there!" Tevos cried out.

The damned synthetic shrugged off the barrage of mass accelerator fire with ease and leapt at the human, pinning him to the ground with two small, mechanical arms.

It screeched at him, producing an unholy noise that was certain to haunt everyone's dreams. Its helmet split open vertically, revealing a burning human skull.

Anderson brought his knee up, planted his foot against the thing's broad chest and shoved. He succeeded in raising the synthetic perhaps an inch, allowing his guards a better shot.

One of the Blackwatch soldiers sprinted towards the monstrosity and blasted it with a shotgun at point-blank range. The synthetic recoiled, but still lashed out with that glowing blade, which carved through the Blackwatch's hardsuit like it wasn't even there. The shotgun clattered to the ground along with the turian's arm, who screamed and backed off.

By then, the combined fire of more than twelve crack soldiers was finally enough to overwhelm its shields. They flickered and faded away, and a couple of bursts slammed into its now-unprotected head. The synthetic abomination screeched again and then just…collapsed in on itself and disappeared in a flash of blue light.

"Something tells me it ain't dead," the Captain of the Blackwatch unit grumbled. "Stay alert."

As one of the Commandoes proceeded to treat the wounded soldier, Sparatus holstered his sidearm and helped Anderson back to his feet. He'd request a new thermal clip later.

"Was that just me, or did that attack feel personal?" Asked Anderson.

Sparatus kept it to himself, but that definitely looked that way. A dozen bigger threats to target and it leapt at the sole human? "What was that thing? That didn't look like a geth."

Most soldiers didn't seem too keen on responding out loud. However, after a couple of moments went by without Sparatus violently dying, they must have realized that the invading forces had something else on their mind.

"It's not the geth, sir," one of STG operatives replied. "From what we understand, it's a precursor species."

"Precursor?" Anderson said, his expression thunderous. "To whom?"

Before anyone could respond, a lance of crimson light speared one of the N7 soldiers. The helmeted woman dropped almost instantly, but her body fell apart in glowing, reddish particles.

"Hostiles!" Yelled a Blackwatch soldier, dropping to one knee and returning fire with his assault rifle.

More of those synthetic creatures appeared and this time, they didn't single Anderson out. Strangely enough, the four enemies were glowing with a faint blueish-white light instead of the burning red that the previous one emanated. They kept their distance, too, peppering the escorts with red light that bypassed their shields and ripped through their hardsuits with frightening ease.

One by one, the soldiers defending the Citadel Council fell.

Then, something impossible happened. Half the interlopers stopped firing. Their blue lights turned bright red again, after which the synthetics turned on each other! Red-glowing abominations teleported across the embassies to close in on blue-glowing ones to slice them apart.

"Councilors, run!" A Commando yelled, before using her Biotics to create a protective barrier that managed to repel several flashes of red light. Her quick thinking saved the life of an N7 soldier, who scrambled to draw a rocket launcher.

"We'll hold them off!" A Blackwatch soldier chimed in, dragging a fallen comrade of his behind cover. "Link up with the Spectres! Go!"

Whatever entity now controlled the security systems of the Citadel was too busy combating something else. The threat that demanded silence wasn't being enforced anymore and Sparatus was glad for it.

"What have they done?" Whispered Tevos, staring at the rapidly approaching force of synthetics. "Goddess…"

"Doesn't matter, run!" Shouted Valern. "Tevos!"

Another Commando broke formation to regroup with the asari Councilor, but she didn't more than a couple of meters before a lance of red energy took her head clean off. As her body crumbled away into ash, the responsible synthetic – a red one – was immediately tackled by a blue one.

Now that their escort of veteran soldiers had dwindled so much, Sparatus too saw no other option than to retreat. Holding the rifle of one of his fallen soldiers, he covered Anderson as the man sprinted towards Tevos. They weren't going to abandon her here.

"We need reinforcements!" Yelled a salarian. "Where is C-Sec?"

-(++)-


He was too late to help them. Again, a swarm of Sentinels ambushed a team of blue-clad Security constables. Again, their hardsuits and kinetic barriers provided little protection against the swarming robots. By the time the last Sentinel detonated in a powerful electromagnetic pulse and crashed to the ground, the last remaining officer was already succumbing to his wounds.

Johnson knelt down next to the turian. The air smelled like burned flesh and ozone. "It's okay son. We cleared 'em out."

It didn't someone familiar with plasma wounds to see that this was not okay. The officer's wounds were extreme. Third- and fourth-degree burns all over his body. Sections of his hardsuit had fused with his charred flesh. He had to be the in the worst pain of his life Or perhaps his nerves had been fried. Could be he didn't feel a thing.

Johnson saw this thousands of times before. This soldier wouldn't make it out alive.

The alien hacked and wheezed, and groaned from the pain. He was choking back screams. When he saw the Marine, he growled something under his breath, then clutched Avery's arm with surprising strength. "…Council…" he managed to groan the words. "Find…Council…"

That strength in his grip broke the instant he uttered those words. The Sergeant Major had to grab his wrist to keep him from slumping against the ground again. "I'll find the Council. I'll keep them safe."

The turian took a shuddering breath. His eyes settled on Johnson's pilfered mass accelerator rifle. Something in his gaze seemed pleading.

The realization hit the old soldier like a kick to the gut. He sighed and nodded, then took aim and shot the officer in his head two times, granting him a merciful death.

This Citadel was fucked. Sentinels and other Forerunner monsters swarmed through the station, killing everything in their path. Sometimes they even turned on each other. Either the intelligence controlling them was batshit insane, or two monsters were duking it out. Either way, someone should have seen this coming.

Johnson took as many weapons as he could carry. These mass accelerator weapons were even lighter than UNSC ordnance. Coupled with the magnetic hardpoints on his suit, he could carry as many as five different weapons at the same time.

With his own, shiny new omni-tool he typed a message to David Anderson, politely asking the Councilor to please provide his current location -

-(++)-


Anderson felt hos omni-tool buzz. Despite the hostile fire being thick enough to walk on, he risked taking his eyes off the enemy location and tapped on the new message.

/ …*Anderson, where the fuck are you? Gimme your location ASAP!*

-(++)-


- so that he could at least prevent this FUBAR situation from turning into a SFUBAR one. In the meantime, he hoped he could avoid earning the wrath of whatever consciousness wanted to fuck him up this time around.

He hadn't been moving for more than ten minutes however when the next weird-ass alien message wrote itself on his omni-tool.

I SEE YOU, RECLAIMER.

Somehow, Johnson didn't think that this was a comment on his dazzling looks. He cautiously scanned his surroundings, slowing down to jogging speed. He made it to the edge of the Presidium, that enormous ring that connected the five Citadel arms. The most elite and powerful individuals lived here. It seemed money and power didn't protect you when a Forerunner wanted you dead.

In the distance, a flock of Sentinels drifted by, no doubt searching for people to kill. Who controlled them? And what for?

The Sergeant Major knew better than to dwell on strategies in the middle of combat. Right now, tactics was where it was all at. He couldn't be more than a mile away from where the Councilors were supposed to be evacuated. He half expected a couple of thousands of frantic civilians to block his way, eager for a ride to safety, but this place almost seemed deserted.

One mile of eerie, Sentinel-infested Presidium. He could cross that mile in less than ten minutes, if he didn't get lasered to death in the meantime.

Meanwhile, the station deteriorated more and more. The holographic "sky" darkened completely, shrouding the Presidium in darkness. Most of the other lights had long since flickered and died, safe for the emergency lights. It made for an unnerving environment. The various speakers and intercom systems occasionally rattled off the strangest sounds he ever heard. It reminded him of the deepest facilities of Halo. Both of them. Mechanical noises, industrial bullshit…weird, organic slithering

This mess became more and more disturbing. Johnson his trigger finger itch with every sound he heard. Brought back some bad memories here. At least there weren't any freaks around to jump him. Just robots…just robots.

Again, someone's voice echoed through the Citadel. This one was very clear however, and it sounded pissed.

"I possess the knowledge of every structure in this galaxy. Our swords, our shields, our hearts. Your fragment won't last in this primitive environment, Metarch. I can take you to your core. I can restore your greatness."

Metarch? This sounded suspiciously like Forerunner mumb-jumbo! And some kissass mumb-jumbo to boot. But what was the point of trying to woo someone if you were already trying to hack and kill their toys?

Unless…unless the asshole wasn't the one doing the hacking. Damn Forerunner nonsense, that should have ended back when the Ark went to hell!

Hmm…following that logic, so should he.

He needed some time for himself to figure this shit out.

A series of rapid thumps went off in the distance. Shortly after, the station shuddered again. The Sergeant Major dug his heels in and sprinted up a staircase. The air was noticeably getting colder. He was starting to have difficulty breathing. It wasn't the withdrawal symptoms of his lack of cigars that was killing him; he had the feeling that oxygen was gradually getting leaner.

That meant trouble.

Without a moments warning, Johnson heard the unmistakable sound of a goddamn Covenant dropship. Driven by instinct and reflexes, he hurled himself over a counter and got to cover. He started to rationalize this mess; it couldn't be the Covenant, because the Covenant was dead and gone. Broke up into a thousand little pieces and scattered across the galaxy. It had to be oxygen deprivation, or exhaustion, or evil AI's messing with the surround stereo -

And then a Spirit dropship sailed in from above, swooping through the skies of the Presidium until it was only a couple of dozen meters away from him. It touched down and unleashed about thirty alien bastards. Elites topped with Grunts.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me!

Carefully stalking towards them, the Sergeant Major saw the aliens spread out among the Embassies, moving with surprising calm and an unknown purpose. No screams, no shouts, just silent commands and stoic diligence. Their dropship stayed down, its glowing turret spinning around as if eager to acquire targets.

Avery winced then he realized that the Covenant dropped in right on top of a bunch of survivors, too. Civvies started screaming – those that still could, at least – leading the alien bastards straight towards them.

Johnson was no fool. He knew he couldn't handle two dozen alien troops plus air support on his own without proper UNSC ordnance. But aliens or no aliens, these people were civilians. And he wasn't going to watch as the Covenant tore them to bits.

As he snuck around the back, getting into position to ambush these fools, it occurred to him that none of the Covenant troops was actually doing anything harmful. Instead of dragging these people by their feet, neck or hair, they carefully picked them up and dragged them back to their dropship. No violence, nu cruelty.

A dumbstruck Sergeant Major held his fire. Elites carrying wounded asari in their arms like they were knights in shining armour? That was not alright in his universe! Were these the Arbiter's guys? How did they find this place? It wasn't exactly hard to encounter an entire galactic community, but where the hell have they been all this time?

He watched them carry the civilian aliens to the dropship. Even the goddamn Grunts were being careful with them, moving in pairs to carry wounded turians, salarians and humans to the dropship. A rookie Elite picked up a smoldering volus, but a crimson-clad veteran barked an order at him. The rookie dropped the volus to the ground and continued on, searching for other survivors.

Johnson knew why. Those volus carried environmental suits that were more extreme than even the Grunts carried. A single blast to their suits spelled death. Same went for those big elcor people, but for different reasons. Their large, heavy bodies made them slow movers. They might survive a single laser blast across the face – although they likely wouldn't want to survive that – but several energy blasts would fry their brains. And Sentinels were dead accurate.

And speak of the devil. Right as a couple more Covenant dropships touched down, including two green Phantoms, another swarm of those goddamn things showed up. They swooped into the cavernous Presidium like vultures, fanned out and began searing the landing zone with ruby-red energy beams. They wasted no time in directing their weapons towards the Elites, whose energy shields shimmered in response. Red lasers split the air into jagged shapes as they tried to burn down the "rescue forces"

The counter-fire was immediate. Needles and bolts of plasma lanced through the air at incredible speeds, in turn triggering the spherical shields of the Sentinels that helped the swarm shrug off the barrage relatively easy.

The enormous firepower of the dropships was in a completely different league though. The heavy plasma bolts blasted through the Sentinels' shielding, obliterating the drones with overlapping fields of fire.

That was, until more of those teleporting robots appeared in the middle of the Elite formation. What should have been an easy turn at the shooting gallery turned into a frantic close-quarters nightmare. Swords blurred, alien warriors screamed and Johnson could have sworn he heard someone laugh over the speakers.

As the two groups of combatants tore each other apart, the old Marine was the only one who noticed that the screens and projectors in the Presidium suddenly activated again. And instead of alien nonsense or Council propaganda, it now showed a countdown, going down from twenty minutes all across the Presidium. Every screen, every holographic emitter, every pedestal.

All across the Citadel, Johnson presumed. And he could guess what happened if that ticking clock reached zero…

-(++)-


Onboard Destiny Ascension

Matriarch Lidanya saw swarms upon swarms of dropships, fighters and drones surge towards the Citadel. Thousands of single ships, working in unison to help evacuate the civilian population. Turian Cruisers, human Frigates, volus Freighters and now, batarian transport ships. The rest of the Defense Fleet held its position between the station and the hostile drone swarms, doing everything they could to assist the screaming, frantic, terrified civilians.

Space around the Citadel was thick with energy beams and mass accelerator fire. It seemed like there was no end to the enemy's swarms; they entered from dark, swirling portals all across the Serpent Nebula, making it difficult to target them. They came in small and large variants, too. The bigger ones packed enough firepower to gut Frigates if they came too close, while the smaller ones alternated between delivering more troops to the Citadel and suicide-blitzing the Covenant ships.

The Matriarch could make no sense of this, at all. Centuries of experience came up short. Was this what the infamous Commander Shepard warned them about? Was this what she was trying to prevent all this time?

She glanced at her personal console. Ten minutes left. Ten minutes to what, she didn't want to imagine. History had only seen a glimpse of the horrors that Artificial Intelligences could inflect upon organic life. She did not want to be the one to ignore a threat like this.

That meant that they had to allocate a hundred percent of their manpower and resources to the evacuation. But it was too slow, far too slow. Perhaps, the Matriarch wondered, that was why she tolerated the presence of this alien fleet that had reportedly laid waste to Illium. With the reputation that these ships had, they should have been destroyed the moment they entered the Nebula. Yet here they were, commanded by this mysterious Forerunner, dedicating their own ships and troops to the Citadel's aid.

The Defense Fleet now formed a protective sphere around the overrun station, simultaneously defending against the drone swarm and picking up as many people as they could. The space required to house her crew of ten thousand could shelter up to seventy thousand people in case of an emergency. Dedicating the Ascension's vast interior space to the evacuated citizens wasn't the hard part.

Getting them to the fleet alive was.

As elite teams of cyberwarfare specialists turned their focus to the Citadel, it became clear just why the self-proclaimed Guardian sought them out. If left unchecked, this entity aboard the Citadel could threaten their entire community. It had to be destroyed.

Through the chaotic mess that now was the Citadel, what remained of the Council's escort now reported that they were closing in on their tertiary evacuation zone. Five minutes away.

Nervously, Lidanya glanced at the timer. Seven minutes to go. What manner of destruction would reveal itself once the clock struck zero? Radiation, explosions, heat? Or would the Artificial Intelligence merely purge all life support and somehow render the entire station one enormous graveyard?

They needed to work faster.

"Friendly drone network in place!" Exclaimed one of her officers. "Stand by…stand by…we've got eyes on the Council!"

A small chorus of cheers and sounds of relief could be heard from the Maidens at their stations. Lidanya could not share in their emotions; the degree to which the station was now compromised was classified, made available only to officers of the highest ranks.

On one of her viewscreens, the Matriarch could now see the four most important individuals in the galaxy converge on their rendezvous point. They were battered and bloodied, as was their escort. She didn't know what happened to the small army of elite soldiers that were tasked with the Council's wellbeing, but she could take a guess.

Already, several requests for air and fire support were rerouted to the Ascension. Many of those ships had been lost during the initial clash with the drone swarms, but it seemed that the Covenant ships had support to spare.

"Strike teams moving in," the Commando coordinator in the bridge called. "Captain, scans show a pair of large drones patrolling that hallway. You must reroute. Uhm…no, you will not be able to take them down before they get a shot in. Reroute, that is an order."

Yes, those larger drones were absolute nightmares even for spaceships designed to kill other ships. They were not much larger than an average fighter, except they were roughly spherical in shape. Presumably, anti-gravity technology held their frames in place. Their directed energy weapons were devastating, traveling instantly and melting through all but the strongest ship hulls. Their shimmering golden shields were tough to withstand several bursts of high-powered mass accelerator bursts and on one memorable occasion, even a direct impact of a disruptor torpedo. Truly a terrifying threat.

"Ascension, this is Anderson speaking! We've got wounded and we need immediate assist!" The voice of Councilor Anderson broke through. "Enemies are right behind our position!"

"We receive you Councilor! Commando units are on their way to your position and the dropship is standing by!" Replied another coordinator.

The Matriarch observed her console closely. A turian General pointed out that the Covenant had ground troops between the evacuation point and the fleeing Councilors. Four large foot units, armoured but without backup. They were the closest

She alerted the coordinator to this little fact and the Matron was quick to direct the Councilors towards them. "Keep pushing onwards! Friendly forces are close by!"

There was no way to tell what happened when the fleeing Councilors and their pursuers reached the Covenant-held position. A specialized dropship still waited at the extraction zone, from where it could be escorted to the Destiny Ascension within a minute.

A minute…that time didn't seem like a whole lot when the geth attacked, but now it felt like an eternity. A single well-placed hit was all it took to down that shuttle. The galaxy would be deprived of a united government for a long time if that happened.

The Matriarch returned her focus to the space battle. It seemed that the Citadel was still in enemy hands. That wasn't going to change soon. But the Covenant fleet was handling these drones pretty well. It looked like they were running out of reinforcements.

Lidanya smiled, feeling a savage delight at the damned AI's failure. Soon, they would find a way to take the Citadel back. Perhaps the supposed Guardian knew what to do. After all, it could not be a coincidence that both he and this Artificial Intelligence arrived within the Serpent Nebula at the same time.

She directed her focus back to the Council's evacuation and was relieved to see that the dropship was moving. The dropship must have left the very instant the last people made it onboard. Lidanya monitored it closely, making sure to assign as many escorts to the ship as was possible. Despite knowing that the little dropship carried such a sensitive cargo, none of the drones went for it. They all continued to throw themselves against the Covenant ships

Well, she wasn't about to complain. How much time was left?

She risked a glance at her console and felt her heart sink. Thirty seconds! Thirty seconds until Goddess knew what happened!

The fast, nimble dropship seemed to move like an elcor as it steered towards the Ascension. Precious seconds ticked by as it docked.

"Matriarch!" Shouted her navigator.

"Not now, I must focus!" Replied Lidanya, frantically typing in the commands that would allow the shipboard VI to calculate the best trajectory for the Relay. Just ten seconds until the countdown reached zero and she didn't want the citizens anywhere near that station when it happened.

"No, look!"

The Matriarch looked up to see what the Matron was so alarmed by. "Would you be quiet? I – "

Her voice trailed off as she beheld what her bridge crew likely saw before her. The Citadel was moving. Somehow, the massive station accelerated towards the Relay by itself.

"Goddess…that can't be possible!" Exclaimed one of the bridge officers. "The cameras must be hacked, o-or the footage corrupted!"

But the various responses from the rest of the fleet made it clear that such was not the case. Amongst the cries for orders and explanations, more than half the vessels were now informing her that the Citadel was moving towards the Mass Relay.

The sight caused the Ascension's all-asari bridge crew to break down and start fighting amongst each other .

"That's impossible, the Citadel can't move!"

"Did you forget that the Citadel is the galaxy's largest deposit of Element Zero? Of course it can move!"

"We have to stop it!"

"Stop it? How?"

"Enough!" Shouted the Matriarch. "We must assume the worst, we must recall our vessels at once! Alert the fleet that they must keep their distance, we cannot risk being too close if the Citadel reaches the Relay!"

Her crew jumped to their tasks. The Citadel continued to accelerate towards the Widow Relay. Goddess, what happened if the Citadel struck the Relay instead of transitioning cleanly? Mass Relays were the most powerful mass-effect engines in the galaxy. The energies released from such an explosion could very well annihilate the entire Serpent Nebula.

Merciless hordes of formless, shifting machines, directed by the consciousness of a star, designed to hate. Ravenous manifestations of a dead cosmos, with limitless bodies that warp and infect reality…

What if this Forerunner was right? What if there truly were horrors beyond horrors awaiting them in the future? What if the supposed Reapers were real?

The Matriarch felt her eyes sting. Could she balance the lives of the entire Defense Fleet, as well as this Covenant fleet and her Guardian, against the lives that might be saved if she just continued the evacuation process?

There was no time. If she wanted to save the Council and the fleet, she had to pull back now.

Matriarch Lidanya steeled her heart. "This is the Destiny Ascension. The Council is onboard. The Citadel is on a collision course with the Widow Relay. I am ordering a full retreat. I repeat, I am ordering a full retreat! We've saved as many lives as we could."

It didn't take the Defense Fleet very long to process her order. Though dozens of messages flooded her personal terminal, ranging from protests to accusations of outright treason, the Captains and Admirals all knew what was at stake. Already the fleet was dispersing, recalling their shuttles, fighters and other ships to facilitate a full retreat.

"Launch drone line fourteen," the Matriarch quietly ordered. "Have them monitor this system. We'll retrieve them after half an hour. See what they recorded."

Then, she turned around and left for the elevator. She needed to see the Council, explain her decision to abandon the Citadel. She wasn't so certain that they would understand.

Accompanying her to the main medical bay was her personal guard of Commandoes. Even now, they stayed by her side. The realization that they still desired to protect her, despite her decision, bolstered her confidence.

The main medical bay was a sizeable chamber, large enough to treat a hundred patients at the same time. The Councilors had all been placed on medical beds at the far end of the room, to treat their various injuries. To safeguard their privacy, several thick panes of soundproof glass had been erected around them. What remained of their personal security stood guard outside of the soundproof "cage", vigilant and wary of treachery.

Since they had reportedly dealt with teleporting synthetics that could shrug off a barrage of twelve mass accelerator rifles discharging simultaneously, Lidanya felt like that vigilance was justified.

Of all the Councilors, it seemed Sparatus' situation was by far the most serious. He lost his entire right arm from the elbow down. While the other Councilors were bickering amongst each other in there, Sparatus was vast asleep. Medication to kill the pain, no doubt.

It surprised the Matriarch that a dark-skinned human sat among the Councilors, yelling and pointing at them with his index finger. He didn't look like a politician. Who was he?

She flashed her identification to the Spectres standing guard and quietly entered the glass chamber. When she did, she almost wished she didn't.

"- but no, you wouldn't heed the warnings! The only nightmares you ever saw were those in your beauty naps!" Shouted the stern-looking human. Everything about him – his attitude, his body language, even his seared clothing – told the Matriarch that he was a military man.

"Councilors. I am sorry to intrude, but I do not believe this man has been included in your ranks," Matriarch Lidanya pointed out. How had the Spectres not noticed this? "Sir, I need you to step away from the Councilors and prepare your identification."

Anderson stood. Though he visibly favored his left leg, his face showed that monstrous human determination that always spelled trouble. "This man has every right to be here with us," he growled. He fought his way through half the Presidium to get to us. He's the reason Sparatus still has one good arm left!"

Valern didn't bother to look up from his omni-tool. "Were Sparatus conscious, he would be saying the same."

"There is that. And there is the fact that he is the…the representative of the UEG. The second humanity," Tevos chimed in, looking as puzzled as Lidanya felt.

Still, no Matriarch worth her title would ever forget her manners. She extended her hand to this man, whille her brain was still struggling to process the absurdity of the situation. "I'm…confused."

"Please to meet you. And I am Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson," the man barked. His tone was pleasant enough, but there was no mistaking the cold rage that burned within his black eyes. "I was just informing your bosses how incredibly they fucked up."

Matriarch Lidanya blinked in surprise. She felt great agitation at the way this man spoke about the prestigious Council, but decided to hide her emotions. She had witnessed enough horrifying surprises for the day. "I beg your pardon? How could the Council have prevented something like this from occurring?"

The man's eyes were downright menacing as he began to explain. "A couple of days ago, the only person who could have prevented this station from being taken by an evil robot god was arrested and taken back to fake Earth! And before that, the only person who could have helped this station from being taken by said evil robot god was chased off with goddamn pitchforks! And both those people were only here to help your people understand not to fuck with my people!"

"While the true situation is more complicated, we have come to…understand that our decisions might not necessarily have turned out for the best," Tevos reluctantly said.

"This whole thing is a damn mess," grumbled Anderson. He shook his head, suddenly looking twenty years older. "This thing that took the Citadel…it's Forerunner, isn't it?"

Johnson leant against the glass wall, seemingly calming down somewhat. "Yep."

Forerunner? If this man truly was the representative of the famed second humanity, she doubted her translator understood what that word meant.

"Forerunner…the precursor species to the UEG?" Tevos said with a pained expression. "The…other representatives were not speaking in hyperbole when they said demanded they inspect all relics first."

"Where are we headin' to?" Johnson suddenly interrupted.

Lidanya glanced at the strange man. If the Citadel Council recognized him as the representative for his "species", she would do the same. "Away from the Serpent Nebula. We'll return to see what remains of the system soon, then…" She let her voice trail off, glancing at Tevos for confirmation.

Before the asari Councilor could respond, however, a voice boomed through the chamber. And judging by the way everyone in the cavernous medical bay reacted to the voice, it had to be transmitted ship-wide.

"In your arrogance, in your hubris, you believed you could tame the powers that are entombed within this galaxy? The evils that are begging to be released? My people gave up everything so you could live your lives free of terror. Today, freedom has failed. You need guidance. Guidance that I, yet again, will have to provide."

The three Councilors exchanged looks. It wasn't hard to imagine what was going through their heads; none of them felt comfortable with what they just heard.

"Who the hell was that, Matriarch?" Demanded Anderson.

Lidanya sighed. She harboured the hopes that this Guardian had revealed himself to the Council as well. It seemed that her hopes were misplaced. "That was the entity in charge of the Covenant and batarian fleet that assisted us. Our intel suggests he himself is perhaps a Forerunner, one who claims our galaxy hides a terrible evil."

An expression of true horror settled on Tevos' visage. "That is the one! The one who laid waste to Illium! He has been…h-he must have been hunting this machine intelligence that attacked the Citadel!"

"What?" Alarmed, Valern climbed back to his feet. He winced when the sudden movement pulled at his just-treated flank. "UEG precursor survivor ruins Illium, but saves the Citadel? What for? What does he want?"

Tevos worked her jaw, like she wanted to say something, but she remained silent. When she opened her mouth to speak, Anderson beat her to it.

"Get us the hell out of here!" He barked at the Matriarch. "We just lost the Citadel, the heart of galactic civilization! We need to regroup and rally. If that…that maniac wants to meddle in our affairs, we need the UNSC now more than ever! Move!"

Lidanya as if jolted. She turned around and ran towards the elevator. At the same time, she tapped into the command network and began issuing orders. "Prep the Ascension for immediate departure! Reboot the ship's cyberwarfare module and chart a route back to Thessia!"

By the Goddess, she hoped her homeworld was safe. Losing the Citadel...it was a blow they couldn't recover from. Damn the Forerunners. And damn the UNSC.

-(++)-