"VR Room" from Assassin's Creed Brotherhood
XLII. Insomnia – After Hours
(Shepard)
Keying-in to all beyond my conscious view, I awoke to complete darkness.
Vaguely aware of a headset over my eyes in real life: I had my sight replaced with this game, this new reality, entirely virtual. No HUD items had transposed on my sight. I just had a regular first-person view.
But for the time being, only this pitch-black surrounded me. Still wearing my same clothes from my date with Miranda, I stood on what felt like a platform. Accurate to the detail, I didn't even have my shoes on, as I technically had them off as I lay in Miranda's bed outside the game. This cold, hard floor almost felt like glass, yet it was sturdy enough to hold my weight just fine.
Somewhere up above, clusters of stars shined and sparkled, the milky fog of that collection glimmering through this otherwise lightless dark. Through that gathering, I thought I spotted two constellations. Two specific constellations. One shaped as a quadrangle, with two leg-like balances at the longest corners—that was definitely the Libra constellation. Longer and much larger, and right next to this one, was another depiction of a winged goddess, of the Virgo constellation.
"Shepard, can you hear me?"
I responded, "Yes, Miranda. Where are you?"
"You'll find me soon enough. I'll explain everything then. For now, we need to go through a few details. Do you remember when you first woke up after the Lazarus Project, and I asked you those questions, to test your recollection? We'll have to repeat this. Otherwise, the rest of Insomnia won't load properly. Though the questions won't all be the same. They can't be. Not at this point in your life. Is that all right?"
"Okay, if that's what we need to do."
"Good. Thank you. First, I'll need you to again confirm your background, your psychological profile, and your combat specialization."
"Earthborn," I said. "Ruthless. Infiltrator: tactical cloak, sniper rifle and pistol proficiencies, Icarus Landing System, emergency temperature management, starvation and exhaustion suspensions."
"Perfect. What is your rank in the Alliance? And what does it mean to you?"
"Commander. It's part of my identity."
"Indeed it is. Next, can you confirm the full name of your partner and love interest?"
I felt myself grinning. "Miranda Lawson."
Laced with pride, Miranda laughed softly. "Excellent. On to your more recent service history. The night I confessed all to you about the team, and what I had done over the two years you were gone—you made the choice to pause the mission. We then retreated to your apartment in San Diego together. You had to know there were risks involved with this decision. Why did you choose to go ahead with it anyway?"
"It's true there were risks involved. One of the potential recruits from our dossiers ended up dead during that time. Not to mention the plague and political situation on Omega wouldn't have gotten so bad, had we arrived there sooner. The fact of the matter is, you and I were both unfocused. We needed some time to retreat. And I wanted to get to know you properly. I really did."
"Mmm, a fine answer. What about when we did finally reach Omega? Your initial encounter with Aria was a tense one, all things considered. Tell me your first impression of her from that day."
"I remember thinking Aria had a huge ego. A gigantic ego getting in the way of her citizens' well-being. It turned me off. She shouldn't have needed us to handle that situation. But it all worked out in the end."
"I have to agree with you. Do you generally consider one's ego to be bad? Or otherwise undesirable."
I wondered exactly what this had to do with my service history.
Miranda sounded intrigued now. "Shepard, I know you're questioning my motives. Answer the question."
"Honestly, when someone is too concerned about their ego, I see it as a bad thing. It's too much of a short-term satisfaction. A wiser person should be able to set their ego aside for more honorable goals."
"That's fair to say. Finally, do you believe one's ego is tied to their sense of empathy? How or how not?"
"Mine is," I reasoned. "So I would have to say yes. If not for my ego, I wouldn't have much empathy."
"Could you expand on that?"
"Most of my social emotions are self-regulated. I recognize my deficits. I have control over those faults."
"Still a rather vague answer. Yet I have a feeling the details will reveal themselves in due time. Go ahead and open your omni-tool now. Your new game should begin loading. I'll see you in a few minutes."
Checking my omni-tool's interface, I saw what looked like an N7 logo, as the auto-save icon spinning in a corner.
Once the save finished, everything loaded around me:
Deceptive in limitations, these virtual building blocks spanned out in my immediate area. Still dark with little light, my senses mainly picked up on these sounds. Those building blocks creating and packing and rising, filling the space around me beneath the starry night sky. As this indoor scenery populated the space, even the constellations above fell out of view, as this area enclosed itself. Some sort of road, or a service tunnel replaced the emptiness that used to be around me. Minor echoing sounds from this empty space filled the area, with hints of rapid traffic somewhere up above. No cars were on this road down here, except for a single vehicle waiting along the side of the tunnel, near a wall:
Colored the same shining, chocolate brown as my car back home, this ground automobile waited there for me. And I knew it was for me, specifically: the alarm lights blinked twice in acknowledgement as I looked at the car. Sharpened and styled in status, this vehicle was pretty much what my skycar would've looked like with four doors and wheels. But that tint over the windows was unusually dark. Pitch-black.
The license plate read—PRINCE S.
Out of habit, I went to the driver's side. Expecting the alarm system to let me in, I was annoyed when the door refused to open. Peering around inside, I couldn't see anyone sitting in the driver's seat, or the passenger's seat. I wasn't sure how, but I felt someone there, ready to drive me to my next destination. My own personal chauffeur.
I tried opening one of the back doors. It worked this time, letting me in just fine.
I settled into the air-conditioned space, cushioned and comforted by the leather seating. Perfectly clean everywhere. A familiar, artificial smell of the crisp, cinnamon car freshener reached my nose. I wanted to look up front to see who was there, but I couldn't—a thick, black partition separated the front half of the car from the back. So I had no way of knowing who the hell turned the car on. That anonymous chauffeur drove off through the service tunnel at a decent pace, as if they knew where to go already.
Even though this ride felt pretty smooth, not having any control had me unsettled.
The only thing I could do was look at the back of the seat in front of me. I found a screen here linked to the car's navigation system. As we drove through the tunnel, the digital map filled out a little bit at a time, following the discovery outside. Everything else aside from this path remained blank, as yet undiscovered and unexplored. I used the zoom out function on the screen to get a better look at this place. Endless and endless, I could've done this for several minutes at a time and not reach the boundary of this map.
As a reflection of that scope, I witnessed it for myself once the car exited the service tunnel:
Outside the tinted windows, I saw the massive rise of city buildings and towers and landmarks. The shape of them in strength and confidence, the stark chrome of them glimmering in the moonlight, and the golden glow emanating from the windows—they all seemed familiar, too. Rising up to the full moon peering through the heavy clouds, those buildings seemed to brood as they stared down at me. Other cars traveled the streets and boulevards of this metropolis; other civilians walked along the sidewalks, and descended to the underground transportation areas. But those cars and civilians appeared almost transparent, like they weren't quite real in this virtual world. Their lives seemed real enough, though, as everyone went about their business, going from place to place with actual motivations in mind. The metropolis itself lived and breathed in more sentience and reality than the rest of the people.
As another beyond-reality experience, I caught sight of the tallest building in the near-distance.
The car approached along a diagonal boulevard, nearing the wide structure centered at the next intersection. Looking a lot like the other buildings around, this one was much larger and taller…and more obvious in how it stood out. I imagined anyone could see it from any point, anywhere in the city.
Aside from its massive size, another detail distinguished the building from the rest: something of a wide, metallic, golden halo jutted out from the topmost point. From that gold, a mist of everlasting light permeated from that place, filling the rest of the city, much like it did back home for me in San Diego. The more I stared at that halo—and this light everywhere—the more I felt like I was back in my hometown. As if these buildings all around were the same brooding ones I'd stared out at my whole life.
As expected, the car stopped right in front of this halo-ringed tower.
Stepping out to the pavement, I stared up at the dizzying heights overhead. Somehow, I could almost hear the huge halo giving off sounds, ever-so-faint from here. Misting out from the light, the golden material chimed in a lonely, forlorn sense. Something about it reached at my core, as if it was from me, maybe.
This building's large, glass doors awaited up a large set of steps, shining in a rich, reflective darkness.
Out of curiosity, I glanced around the area. A few translucent barriers limited where I could go. I assumed this large building would have my tutorial inside. I couldn't progress until I cleared this first.
So I headed up the steps to the automatic doors, hoping to find Miranda in here.
Through the doors, I arrived to what looked like a foyer in a corporate building.
More darkness, more reflective surfaces, with polished marble floors of a dark, dark blue that was almost black in appearance. No bright overhead lighting to cancel out the moody atmosphere all around. Another set of stairs awaited just ahead, centered with a fine violet carpet. But here, off to the side, I found what looked like a holo-closet along the wall. Something about it seemed to call out to me.
Checking the closet, there was only one outfit:
The custom-made, three-piece suit that Miranda had gotten tailored for me at the mall earlier.
Smiling over her consideration, I changed into the outfit. Black jacket, black vest, black trousers, black shoes, black tie, and the dark, dark violet of the shirt underneath: dignified and structured all around. Fine silver of a belt buckle rested along my waist; more silver lined my wrists with cufflinks; and a hanging silver chain looped down the side of my leg. As I moved, the chain in particular made a sound, as if announcing my presence, to keep me from sneaking around. This couldn't have been a coincidence.
Mindful of this chain chiming in-time with my footsteps, I went up the next set of stairs.
As I went, I caught the sense of grandiosity in the area up above. Stairs and escalators rising upward; higher floors rising well overhead; grander, open space that told the same story as the foyer, brightened only by the red and blue floor lights everywhere. More dark marble lit up by those floor lights; wall space of the same dark color, taken up by Cerberus and Alliance logos, everywhere. Much like outside, other people populated this space, too—transparent, again. Alliance soldiers and Cerberus employees, each in their respective uniforms and attire, going from place to place. Working together. Working in true unity.
The most perfect sense of unity awaited me just at the top of the staircase.
Miranda stood there in confidence, competence. Cognizant of my surprise to see her like this: she nearly took my senses from me, looking the way she did. Wearing a variant of her Cerberus uniform, she'd modified it with a custom-made dress. Black and structured and lined with violet to match my suit, she bore practicality with the elegance about her, everywhere. Even with that flow off to the side and down her back, Miranda retained the tightness of her heeled boots, and more leather all the way up her legs. The only skin she showed was the generous view of her cleavage, as always, and the beauty of her face.
A true elevation of her femme fatale look. Perfection all-around. She had me speechless.
Miranda gave me a knowing smile.
"Hello there, handsome," she greeted, the near-crystals of her blue eyes glimmering in this darklight.
I still couldn't get a word out.
Pleased to see me like this, Miranda stepped over my way. She looked me over, surveying.
More pleasure she expressed, approving of my suit, my accessories, and my hair. She smoothed her hands down the lapels of my jacket, admiring me.
"This is exactly what I wanted," she said. "You standing here like this. At a loss for words. All while looking completely stunning. A woman of your stature and power always looks best in darker clothing. Your natural colors stand out that much more. I should know. I've spent a long time imagining this night."
On instinct, I held Miranda's waist in my hands. Watching her smirk more, I was surprised at how accurate my sense of touch was—in this game. The smooth fabric of her dress felt real to my palms.
"Miranda…what is this place?"
"Well, you know the game itself is called Insomnia. I tasked Legion with creating this during the Lazarus Project. You could say it's a virtual manifestation of your mind. Specifically, your unconscious mind. Including our collective unconscious as organic species. I take it you're familiar with both concepts."
"Yes, I am. How was Legion able to recreate something like this?"
"It was rather vague on the details," explained Miranda. "But, when I put your consciousness back together, Legion was able to find enough traces of your unconscious mind. Just to drive the point home, I'll use the common analogy of an iceberg in the middle of an ocean. Our conscious mind is the part of the iceberg that's visible along the water's surface—we know what we know, and what we see. Our unconscious mind is everything beneath the waters, well beyond our view—what we can't know. Some of what's in this building—and the outer city—contains what you cannot see or know about yourself."
"What's the purpose of this game, then? What is our objective?"
"Mmm, I admit that's changed quite a bit since the onset. I had originally planned on using this place as an escape. For the two of us. During the Reaper invasion, we'll be able to come here to get away. That sort of escape isn't entirely necessary at this stage. Not like I imagined before. Things are different now."
I sensed a lot of history behind her answer. "What do you mean by that?"
Miranda almost didn't want to admit—"I'd intended to use this…to seduce you. In secret. Before everything changed. Maybe even to have an affair, if you wanted it. The thought always made me uncomfortable. I never saw myself as the other woman. That role just wouldn't have worked for me."
"Honestly, I think you would've pulled it off."
"You say that now. That particular future still didn't sit right with me. I'm glad we don't need to bother."
"Agreed," I said, looking around again. "So what is this building, then? From what I could tell, it's the biggest one in the whole city. It looks pretty impressive. Is this a corporation or something?"
"It is a corporation, yes. Walk with me, Shepard. Let's take a little tour together—as your tutorial."
I held Miranda's hand as she led me farther inside this place.
As the area expanded, leading to all those staircases and escalators, we found what looked like the ground floor for this mega-corporation. All the translucent soldiers and executives from Cerberus and the Alliance alike—they continued to go about their own business, not even noticing Miranda or me. They all felt familiar, too. Even if I didn't recognize any of these faces directly, it was possible they knew who I was in real life. These might have been actual people in that case.
They went off into separate rooms both down here and upstairs. Working there, or just congregating.
I wasn't sure how these complete strangers had jobs to do in my own mind. But I appreciated it.
Miranda asked me, "So, what do you think of this place? Does it impress you?"
"It's really impressive. Incredible. What exactly does this building represent about me?"
"Your ego."
"My ego?! Seriously?"
"Yes, Shepard," confirmed Miranda, amused. "This building is the virtual manifestation of your ego. Its appearance mirrors your self-confidence, your self-esteem, and your perception of yourself. The many rooms and tasks everywhere are what help you moderate your personality. Given that the ego has aspects that are both conscious and unconscious, this was the perfect bridge to the rest of Insomnia—most of which is your unconscious mind, and our collective unconscious, as I mentioned before."
"Okay, then why does this whole thing look so corporate? It's nothing like me."
"Well, your ego is your personal brand. So this building should appear corporate. In that sense."
"Maybe…"
Smiling over my sulking, she tried a different approach—"Think of it this way: your unconscious mind performs many functions behind-the-scenes, all to keep things running smoothly. Those functions employ the many 'people' of this corporation. It's simply a well-oiled machine as a business. That's all."
"I can accept that."
"I would hope so. I'd like us to refer to this place as headquarters, or HQ as necessary. This building was the only accessible area for the longest. Things have changed, and grown, and expanded over time. Outside, other locations will make themselves available to you. They'll be procedurally generated as you grow closer with the team—and as they grow closer to one another. We're all networked together."
I wondered, "The team isn't here in the game, are they?"
"If they're asleep, then you should be able to access their dreams. You don't need to sleep. The others do. That's why this place is called Insomnia—and it's only available during sleeping hours. Ten at night to seven in the morning. Outside of those hours, everything will need to recharge and reload."
"Then…is our objective to spy on everyone's dreams? To figure out their minds that way?"
"Our objective is whatever you decide it will be on any given night. There's far more to this game than snooping on our teammates' dreams or nightmares as we please. But even I don't know everything. Much of it is unknown. You'll need to explore both HQ and the city itself to find out more on your own."
"You can come with me, right?" I asked.
"Of course," said Miranda. "We're already in a party now. Check your omni-tool."
Briefly letting go of her hand, I followed her instructions. Here on my interface, I saw that we really were in a party together, with me as the leader. Just the two of us—for now? Either way, as we went, my navigation system filled out the geographic data for HQ. Miranda had us heading down a hallway leading to the central elevator. And in this hall, I picked up on that chiming from my side chain, sounding a little louder in this enclosed space, punctured by our footsteps moving in unison over the dark marble floor.
"Babe, why did you want this chain on my suit? It isn't loud, but…"
Miranda smiled as I held her hand again. "I can't have you sneaking up on me later. Besides, I like it."
"You liked the one I wore on our first date, did you?"
"Perhaps that might've been the inspiration," she teased, coy.
At the central elevator, Miranda pressed the button to go up. A pleasant chime sounded; the shining surfaces of the doors opened right away, letting us in. I let Miranda through first, as always, following after her heeled, clicking footsteps onto the marble within the elevator. This cylindrical space opened up at the back half, made completely of a sturdy, bulletproof glass. These sights opened up to a full view of the city. I stared out to the night's metropolis as the elevator took us up to the 60th floor. Rising higher at a smooth, even pace, I could definitely see that this headquarters was the tallest building in Insomnia.
Miranda stood next to me, watching on with such a look of satisfaction.
"So?" she asked, expectant. "Have I succeeded in surprising you? Impressing you, even."
Still speechless in a way, I held her close instead.
Easing my lips over Miranda's face—the satisfied shape of her smile—she found my concessions.
Notoriously difficult as it was to surprise me, she'd more than succeeded. She'd surpassed even my wildest imagination about what she had in-store for us. She herself surpassed my every expectation with ease. And this was exactly why no one could ever compare to her, or compete with her. Exactly why I felt myself glued to her, latching to her beyond physicality; stuck to her and steadily losing my composure around her. Quietly crazy about Miranda in these ways, she felt only my controlled settings around this sense. Even in my control, her pleasure grew, with the shape of her smile widening and widening beneath my taste.
Even kissing her lips tasted the same, felt the same as in real life. I could inhale these exhalations from Miranda, feeling as the pinnacle of my ego, within my ego, with her as mine. Some of the wine we'd shared over dinner still lingered over her, filling her mouth with more flavor in richness. Lounging her arms over my neck and shoulders, she found her leverage here beneath me. Smoothing her hand along my suit jacket, my lapel again, Miranda had me under her control, even beyond my own attempts.
"I'll accept this answer," she murmured. "And I accept my victory for your challenge."
"Well-earned," I praised. "When did you come up with the idea for this game?"
"Well, I had toyed with the concept many years before. You and I are both mental creatures. I figured something like this would serve to bring us closer. By the time the Lazarus Project became a necessity, this turned into a more practical venture. Technically, I've stored your consciousness here in this space. In case you happen to die again, I won't need to spend so much time putting your mind back together. I could simply upload it and be done. Or…I could upload your consciousness elsewhere if needed."
"As a last resort."
"Yes, a last resort."
"You make it sound like I could replace EDI in the Normandy if I had to."
"If that was the only option, then it would certainly be possible. But I would never want to do that."
I couldn't even imagine something that crazy.
As we reached the 60th floor, the elevator doors opened to the expanse of the area. Holding Miranda's hand again, we walked together to this broader space, styled much like the rest of the building downstairs. More open areas, with rows of leather couches spread out around, and decorative plants enhancing the mellow atmosphere everywhere. Those Cerberus and Alliance employees lounged along the seats here, alone or in groups. They stared out the nearby picture windows that raised up to the ridiculously high ceiling, looking on at the spread of the city tinted by the golden, misting light at night.
Somewhere in the center of the area, I spotted what looked like a giant hangar space.
In that center was a life-sized replica of the Normandy, able to fit in this building with ease.
As the centerpiece of this floor, other hallways led out to various other doors and rooms.
Miranda led me to one of those halls, explaining, "Everything on this floor contains certain truths about you. Mostly your fears, thoughts, memories, and other sentiments that you might not be aware of. They are beyond your conscious perception, yet they continually influence your emotions and decisions. All in ways you will never fully understand. Most are related to your ego, as that is where we currently are. But there could be more. Do you want to look around first before we go explore the rest of the city?"
"Yeah, let's take a look," I agreed. "I want to see what's in a few of these rooms, at least."
"We'll do that, then. Though you should be aware: you won't be able to use your tactical cloak here in Insomnia. Not in headquarters, nor in the greater city. You're simply not allowed to have access to it."
"Really? Why not?"
Pure wisdom: "You can't hide from your own mind, Shepard. So I'd advise you to be cautious while exploring."
"Makes sense…"
Arriving to the first room in the hall, Miranda gave me some more advice—"I should warn you. Some of these images won't make much sense. If you'd like, I can offer my own speculation. There's no guarantee that my answers will be entirely accurate. I can only make informed guesses."
Not quite knowing what to expect, I opened the door.
Miranda walked inside with me—and we found what should have been a normal room, with a normal banquet going on. Something of a party or celebration, but with no one inside. Tables lined the area with red tablecloths. On top of those tables were several plates of food. Food on top of food on top of food, to excess—gaudy and showy meals, with ridiculously ostentatious presentations. Decorative stacks of cake, piled and piled up to the ceiling, with chocolate fountains pouring out back down like lava.
Instead of regular chairs at the tables, there were a bunch of beanbag chairs. Punctured, deflated. Fillings pouring and spilling out to the hardwood floor. Shaped the same, several large sports balls dotted the place. Again, punctured and deflated and flattened.
Unused. Broken.
Worthless.
Dead.
Farther out along the room's perimeter…lay several coffins.
Presumably, they were all full. Closed lids. They just felt occupied.
Humming in concern, Miranda walked to the center of the room. There she found a simulacrum of me, shadowed in my same shape—standing with a plate of salad in my hands. Not eating it. Just holding the plate. Refusing to move at all. Clutching the plate, almost. But, again, refusing to eat a single bite.
Feeling a sudden urge to leave the room, I forced myself to stay put.
Miranda turned to look at me, asking, "Do you feel this speaks for itself? The symbolism, I mean."
"Yeah…more or less."
"What can you remember of this room's origins? How did it start? Aside from your modeling career."
"Well, growing up, I wasn't always able to eat when I wanted. I can remember seeing these types of flashy meals in advertisements, thinking it was all a waste. That extravagance and excess…it didn't feel fair to me. I think some of this related to my own self-image, too. My friends and people in other houses used to obsess over my looks. Like it was my best quality. If I lost my looks, or 'let myself go', I wouldn't be worth much anymore. I hated that feeling. I wanted to be worth something on my own merits."
"Your own skills," noted Miranda, observing my shadow once more. "Do you see what she's wearing?"
Looking closer, I saw: "It's my Alliance uniform. The military was the best way for me to prove myself."
"Military realness indeed."
"Pretty much… I also have the same problem with getting old. Losing my touch. It's a big fear of mine."
Clairvoyant, Miranda reassured me: "I don't think that's something you need to worry about."
"What are you talking about? Time's always passing. We're always getting older. It's unavoidable."
"I know that, Shepard. In fact, my father saw the same problem when he created me. I'll likely live half as long again as the average human. Even then, that quality about me has distilled to you, through this network we share. I believe it will continue to grow. In due time, our age will be irrelevant. In that sense, you and I won't grow 'old' at all. Yet there must be some sort of trade-off. I'm waiting to see what it is."
All of a sudden, I remembered Ashley's insistence that I would never get old—or even die at all.
But how was that possible?
Knowing my thoughts already, Miranda led me back outside. "Come on. Let's go to the next room."
Again with no idea what to expect, we went to the second door.
In this dark space, only a single mirror stood in the middle of the area.
Miranda joined me as I went over to the tall glass.
But as soon as I saw what was there, I wanted to turn back around and leave.
I fought against this burning sensation in my legs to run—to bolt from this room and never come back.
As I approached the mirror, my perspective of its contents shifted just so. The person sitting there was not me. Yet I could see her from this certain perspective: as if I walked up to her sitting on the floor, instead of her finite presence within my own reflection. She sat there oblivious to me at first.
Tali sat in that space. Without her mask, I could see her there, smiling to herself. Looking almost human. Almost human enough to be me. The brights of her eyes brightened even more as she stayed in place. Unprotected, but safe and happy, she held a few stuffed rabbits close to her chest. Like they were her friends. Like they were her only friends, and she didn't care at all that she was technically alone. Making up the rest in her mind, Tali found her fulfillment from the imaginary—invisible—friends in her arms.
Youthful, innocent.
Not a care in the world reached Tali as she enjoyed herself there.
Yet she seemed to sense my panic brimming as I watched her.
Tali gazed up at me in a worried sort of curiosity.
I immediately wanted to cloak to invisibility. I couldn't. I was suddenly aware of my chain chiming at my side—right as I took a sharp step backward. But I couldn't go anywhere. One side of my back pressed against Miranda's shoulder behind me. She used her body as that stopper, keeping me rooted in place.
"Shepard, don't run."
Fighting against my need to leave, I almost panicked—"Miranda, I can't do this."
"Yes, you can. Now stay here. Don't abandon her like this. Tell me why it bothers you so much."
"You already know why."
"Maybe I do. But I want you to use your words. Talk to me. Please."
I hated this honesty piercing my chest. "Because…Tali's purest self represents what could have been. With me. If I hadn't ended up the way I did. She's an alternate reality of my own personality."
"So, when someone disrespects her, they disrespect you. When someone hurts her, they hurt you."
"And when she's alone or unloved…I am, too."
Miranda pondered the deeper meaning here. "Is this why you needed to hold onto her?"
"It's only part of the reason," I admitted. "Whatever's going on with her and Jack has seriously rubbed me the wrong way. I could never explain why. I think this is it. Tali has every right to be with whoever she wants. The thing is, if they end up hurting her, I'll lose my fucking mind over it. Because of this. This imagery in front of me. It's selfish of me to feel the way I do."
"I wouldn't say it's selfish. You naturally want to protect Tali the way you'd protect yourself."
I kept on rejecting this—"Babe, my feelings for her aren't appropriate."
"Your feelings for me aren't appropriate, either, given what I know of you. Yet I welcome them nonetheless. And I'm positive Tali feels the same way about you. There's no need to feel ashamed."
"I guess so."
This surface-level acceptance made Tali's image in the mirror disappear.
"Well, that's a start," allowed Miranda, smiling. "Now that you've faced this dilemma, I'd like to show you one last room. There are many others, of course. But, as you know, we only have until seven in the morning before the game ends for the night. We can always come back to these rooms another time."
"That's fine with me. Let's head over to the third one."
After what I'd witnessed from the first two rooms, I should've known what to anticipate from this third.
Even still, I felt completely unprepared for what awaited.
Some familiarity greeted me as I walked through the door.
The calming voice from my apartment's VI: "Welcome home, Commander Shepard."
Waves of nostalgia populated the space around me, filling in the visuals of my home back home. These warm woods, colder metallic surfaces; the tall intimidation from the windows, the blinds opening to the golds of everlasting light fogging outside, along with those dark, brooding skyscrapers in the near and far distance; my furniture and organization and cleanliness; the years I had spent here on my own, never really sharing the space with anyone for any extended period of time. And the sunlight, everywhere.
I had crafted this living space as my own.
But this was the first time I truly felt safe and relaxed in my own apartment. Mirrored in my own mind.
Mirrored more, I watched another version of myself cross the space. Not shadowed, not a mere copy: this definitely felt like me. Wearing my Alliance fatigues with my hair down, that version of myself left the guest room, and headed to the couch in the living room. She—or I—stood behind the couch for the longest. Watching the person sitting there, lying there, lounging in relaxation. Reading. Ignoring me.
Miranda sat in that space. Wearing her nightdress. Reading something on her omni-tool. Something important. Presumably her Cerberus reports. She appeared to know that my image was there, watching her. She didn't look up to acknowledge my copy's presence. She just kept on reading over her reports.
I found it strange that this version of me did nothing. Made no attempt to make her presence known.
She fixated her complete attention on Miranda, though. Eager, waiting. Anticipating something.
Disinterested, Miranda kept reclining over the couch. She would stroke her thighs or sigh on occasion, shifting in the sexy tightness of her lace. Yet she carried on as if nothing about the room had changed.
Until she finally decided to say, "Shepard, there you are." Miranda kept her eyes to her omni-tool, even as my image warmed over the acknowledgment. "I need you to go pick up my dry-cleaning. I've an important function to attend later this weekend. Yet another company party with the usual executives. You're coming with me as my date." Scrutinizing, Miranda raised her brow, glaring at my reflection at last. "Unless you've some game to play—one that's more important than I am. Is that the case or not?"
"No, Miranda," said my duplicate. "You're more important to me than anything. I promise." Miranda gave a tepid hum of approval. My image folded her wrists over her navel—hiding a growing erection from the strap-on beneath her clothes. "I'll go with you as your date. And I'll pick up your dry-cleaning."
"Good. I expect you to wear the suit I recently bought. You've grown at least two inches since your last fitting. I'm certain my colleagues will notice: they'll joke and ask what it is I'm feeding you. Simply ignore their drivel and let me do all the talking. Keep me on your arm and be handsome. You know the drill."
"Yes, Miranda. I understand. If that's all, then I'll be on my way."
Miranda stayed in silence for a moment longer, wondering.
"No, actually. That's not all. There's something I need to know."
"Okay. What is it?"
Glancing down at my copy's obvious hard-on, Miranda asked, "Why are you still here?"
Uncertain how to respond, this other version of me said nothing.
Miranda went on, "The way I treat you is nothing short of awful. I'm increasingly demanding. I have no regard whatsoever for your time or personal business. I have absolutely no desire to change, either. And yet you cater to my whim nonetheless. Is it because of the sex? Is that the carrot on a stick? Do you find some sort of comeuppance in getting to fuck me every night? By putting me in my place, so to speak."
"No, Miranda. I don't need that kind of power. You don't ever have to change. I'm happy with you."
"How, Shepard? How is that possible? If anyone else treated you the way I do, you would end them."
"Well, you're clearly an exception in my world."
"An exception?" questioned Miranda, increasingly disbelieving. "Why? What does that mean?"
"I love you exactly the way you are."
Miranda only betrayed the slightest surprise on the outside.
On the inside, my counterpart's words had affected her, deeply. Even if she refused to show it.
She chose instead to recline over the couch more, returning to her reading.
Putting on a show of apparent disinterest, she ordered: "Go and fetch my dry-cleaning now. And be careful on the road."
"Yes, Miranda. I'll be back soon."
As this image of me walked through my body, disappearing, this version of Miranda stayed on the couch. Contemplating, holding her emotions in, she wouldn't let anything show—not even to the apartment itself while she was alone. Waiting in this sense, she couldn't seem to concentrate on those reports anymore. She just stared straight ahead at the television. Hoping I would return soon. Needing me to be back already. Wishing she could change her behavior somehow, to show more gratitude and compassion and love. Yet her worst habits were baked-in already. And I held none of it against her.
In reality—virtually—my Miranda grabbed hold of my arm, taking me out of this room.
She said nothing until we were back out in the hallway at headquarters.
Even then, Miranda only allowed herself to say, "…I wasn't expecting that."
"I'm not surprised by anything we saw. Are you?"
"I'm more than surprised by it. Can't you tell?"
"Yeah, but you picked this room for a reason. I assumed you knew what would be in there."
"Not to that extent…"
Miranda obviously didn't want to talk about this. Not in-depth. Not like before, when I was the sole subject of these rooms and visions. I figured she saw some truth in what we'd just witnessed—about herself, about what could've been with us. There was more, too. There was always more. But she didn't want to put a voice to it. Instead, she led me away from the hall, farther up this 60th floor of the building.
As endless as this place was, the stairs reached up to more places, more areas. Miranda guided me up to the highest landing on this floor. Hand-in-hand we walked up a winding staircase, surrounding a tower that raised well up to the ceiling over our heads. This tower of glass glowed an aquamarine blue, filled with water and swimming fish, and lined with ornate decorations, signaling the elevated status of this part of headquarters. The height of these stairs brought us to the sounds and bustle of conversations and clinking glasses. Those sounds grew closer and clearer as we reached the top, finding this gathering:
High-class and highly-important, multiple Alliance higher-ups were here in their formal uniforms. Glasses of champagne in-hand, they mingled with Cerberus executives in suits and dresses, with only the obvious logos over their chests marking their affiliations. Transparent as they all were, just like everyone else in HQ, they weren't aware of our presence here. They laughed and talked in a pleasant, harmonious energy, enjoying one another's company.
Somewhat out of place: the center of this room had a control panel. It looked a lot like any set of controls for flying a ship. As if this entire area was one giant cockpit. As if the building itself—or the whole city—was actually a ship, and someone could fly it with these controls somehow.
Miranda didn't seem to know much about it. She led me away from that standout, over to the window.
With those pleasant sounds of the party just behind us, we gazed out at this view of the city.
Quiet and contemplative, Miranda had a lot on her mind. She leaned against me anyway, linking both of her arms in mine. We found our ways to enjoy the moment. No matter what was on her mind; no matter what was on mine, we had each other. I wanted her to know that. Especially at a time like this.
Nudging her a bit, I asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"Even with this prodigal ego of yours…you're very talented at making exceptions for me."
"You deserve it, babe."
Miranda laughed a little in disbelief. "How do you know that for certain?"
"There's this sense of security you give me, too. I know you'd never leave me. I don't have to worry about protecting myself from that possibility. At the same time, I'm not taking you for granted. I can accept anything else that happens, knowing that we'll work things out. I accept you the way you are."
I hoped she caught my actual meaning.
Given the way Miranda couldn't look at me, this hope of mine came true.
She changed the subject, too, giving herself away even more:
"Well, in any event…this is as far as we can go within headquarters. As you can see, the building goes on for far more than sixty floors. Everything above us is sadly inaccessible—for the time being. I'm not clear on how we can gain access. But as with the rest, I assume we'll make progress as we continue to explore HQ. And the rest of Insomnia. We can head out to the city now if you'd like. Take a look around."
"We should do that. Do we need to gear-up first? Are there any hostiles outside? Monsters, or…?"
"I actually don't know," admitted Miranda. "It wouldn't hurt to check what's available. You can view your skills and equipment from any active console—or with your omni-tool. Did you unlock anything?"
Opening my omni-tool, I told her, "Looks like I have something from exploring those rooms. An omni-blade attachment. Guessing this is a sword for my omni-tool for close-range combat. And I have a new ability for blending with crowds of people. I can turn them into copies of myself. But no sniper rifles."
"Hmm, I haven't unlocked anything else. When I first arrived, I found that my biotics work as normal. And I do have other skills and such to unlock. My progression system seems to be different than yours."
"Is it giving you any hints?"
"None," said Miranda, disappointed. "Nothing at all. I suppose I'll just have to find out as we go along."
"We can head down to my car," I suggested. "Drive around and see what we can find. Before we do…I just wanted to thank you. For doing all this. It's definitely the best experience anyone's ever given me. I have to say, it's magnificent."
Smiling over my praise, Miranda shared, "Well, you inspire this magnificence in me. All the time. If there was any way to visibly describe how I feel for you, then this would be it. I'm eternally grateful that you like this place. That you appreciate it. I hoped with all my heart that you would like everything here."
"I more than like it, babe. Your mind is a treasure, and your heart is invaluable to me. There's no other person in this galaxy I want by my side. Only you. No matter what happens, I'm with you. You have me."
Miranda beamed at me this time, teasing, "Aren't you a charmer?"
"I try my best," I said, shrugging with a grin of my own.
She stroked my face fondly, adoring me with her touch, and her gaze for days.
"You'll have to give me more of these compliments sometime soon. Let's go back to the elevator. Your car should still be outside waiting for us."
Leaving this party overlooking the cityscape, Miranda and I went back downstairs.
Through the foyer at the entrance, and down the large set of stairs outside, we arrived to my car.
I opened the backseat door, helping Miranda in first. Once she was settled, I walked around to the other side, getting in. That mysterious driver had waited for us all this time; still separated by this dark partition halving the front seat from the back. Miranda frowned in their direction, not knowing who it was, either, before watching me open the car's navigation system. The driver expected me to set a destination. I had no idea how to do that if nothing was unlocked on the map yet…
Miranda let me know, "We'll have to find our team members' locations manually. But just this once. Even though their locations will likely change from session to session, everything will automatically reveal itself after finding them once. We won't need to go searching for them a second time."
"Sounds convenient."
Seeing the empty map for herself, Miranda spotted my confusion.
She gave me a hint: "Shepard, surely someone's location should be readily available. Take a closer look."
Zooming out to the middle of nowhere, I found the one and only place already marked on the map.
Just a single dot surrounded by blank space—for now—with the person's name marked above:
Ashley.
Tensing all of a sudden, I reasoned with myself. As far-out as her place was, we were bound to find other locations along the way. Those locations would then mark themselves on the map for our convenience. We wouldn't necessarily have to go looking that much. Then we could double back someplace else later.
Once again with no idea what to expect, I selected Ashley's place as our first destination.
Miranda didn't have to say a word. She knew.
I held her hand anyway as my car drove off.
She did me one better, sitting closer to me. Close enough to lean against my shoulder, resting a bit, while I remained as this solid rock for her. Recharging her emotions—or supercharging them—in anticipation for what awaited. Really, Miranda seemed more anxious about this than I was. She didn't give it away in any obvious sense. Not necessarily. This quiet, smooth ride through Insomnia's streets heightened my notice of her—especially with Miranda this close to me, breathing this close, thinking this close. She did her best to focus on the navigation system, already filling in other places on the map.
Outside the window, I saw the evidence for myself. Nearest to HQ—closest to my ego—was Tali's location. Surreal and outlandish, there was the entire Migrant Fleet, nearly submerged underwater. I only knew it was the Flotilla from recognizing those ship designs at the top. Those huge, round liveships stood out the most. Inaccessible as the Fleet was, naturally, since Tali was pissed off at me after my confession the other day. For a moment I wondered how I hadn't spotted these thousands of ships taking up so much space. All the windows we'd looked out before had faced the back of headquarters. Not the front where these ships spread out across the cityscape. They were pretty hard to miss.
A fair distance away from the Flotilla, Garrus and Wrex's names populated the map.
Even farther away, but still within the Migrant Fleet's general area, Joker's name popped up.
My car then took a highway that didn't look like a highway at all: lowered at ground-level, we passed over a beach that had thinned and into a long, winding bridge of sand. At either side of the sand-bridge, the ocean shore ebbed and flowed, waters glimmering in the moonlight up above.
Somewhere across the way, beyond the seas around us, Mordin's location filled itself out. Just barely, I made out what looked like a lush, tropical forest. Was that the salarian homeworld, Sur'Kesh?
It wasn't until we exited the highway that Kasumi's name appeared, still a decent distance away. Not at all surprising, her area was a gigantic bank, guarded with all sorts of security measures. No one could survive a heist in a place like that.
Farther still, we passed by Zaeed's place. Some kind of hotel. About average-size compared to the rest of the towers and buildings around, I couldn't pick out anything unusual about his location. Until I looked closer, and spotted the clientele. There were only asari going in and out of the hotel for some reason. No humans, salarians, krogan, or anyone else. Just asari dressed in revealing clothes. Specifically.
Miranda scoffed in disapproval.
I could only wonder about the actual meaning there.
Truly in the middle of nowhere, we eventually arrived to Ashley's place, well away from everyone else's.
Out in these barren suburbs for no one, only a single house existed here. A single house on fire, the flames rising up to the skies, ashes clouding the winds. The front and back yards, the picket fence, the dog house along the side, and the garage—everything burned on and on, with no end in sight. Even then, the flames didn't seem dangerous for some reason. They just existed there, heating and blazing.
Or at least they weren't dangerous to me.
"You go on ahead," said Miranda. "I'd much rather wait here. Something about this doesn't feel right."
"I know. Sit tight."
Exiting the car, I took a better look at the property.
This couldn't have been her family's home from Amaterasu, the colony they lived on. No one actually had homes like this anymore. As old-fashioned as this place was, it must've been some kind of fantasy. A mirage, or an illusion. Someone's hopes and dreams had been bundled here, only to burn away like this.
I stepped onto the ashen pavement. Approaching the house, I didn't feel any increase in temperature. None of the smoke clogged my nose or my lungs. Wind and air seemed to blow around me, keeping the flames away in any meaningful way. Enough for me to go up to the front door, finding an inscription of poetry carved into the old wood:
The town without you is barren with gold:
Around you go, spinning as lights crossing
My heart—sink or swim—and never gets old;
Your immortality is plain, frothing
At the mouth as wolves do—quiet, lonely;
Solitude, I found creativity
Crowned unhidden, without lying from me.
These mental games show your proclivity
For greatness above, so unexpected:
For now, hiding as my artistry did,
Until your sweet attentions perfected
My verse to the rays of your sun as mid:
Unrestrained in love, you need me, your bone—
Leave your heaven for mine, here for your throne.
These words emblazoned themselves along my eyes, burning each time I blinked.
This definitely…reminded me of her.
Somewhere beyond my view, the reminder brought up old emotions for me. Old feelings. Old restraints and traumas, well-beyond my conscious sense.
I was able to touch the doorknob without burning my hand. I opened the front door to the house.
There indoors, I could see the darkness. In some of the light from the flames, I picked out a few details. Dozens of weapons and thermal clips spread out over the floor. All military-grade. Huge guns—assault rifles, mostly—scattered there in no apparent rhyme or reason. As a collection, as a precaution. They clearly belonged to the owner of this house. No other furniture existed inside. Only those weapons.
I could've walked inside. Investigated some more on my own. Given into this nostalgia for the past.
But then I turned around, looking back to the car. Miranda was still there in the backseat. Gripping her arms around herself. Fearful, anxious, worried. If I left her out here, and something happened, I would never forgive myself. Even if this was just a game.
So I made my way back to the car. Hurrying along for Miranda's sake.
As I went, I saw another possible location in the distance: a tall building that looked like an Alliance base.
Inside the backseat, I sat next to Miranda again. Not having moved at all from her spot, she leaned against me as before, holding my arm in hers. Setting aside the matter of our next destination, I decided to check my omni-tool. The party menu in particular. I needed to find out some more information first.
Miranda watched as I tinkered around here.
Since I was the party leader, my profile showed up first. It showed me in my suit, with Miranda standing next to me just out of focus, with me as the center. My avatar watched Miranda in concern, while she held onto my arm as she did now—standing in the menu instead of sitting in the car. I checked my own stats, not really sure what to make of them. My shields and health were both at a whopping fifty points. I had no weapons except for the omni-blade attachment I'd unlocked earlier. And I had no skills other than the crowd-blending tool I also picked up before. Nothing in my inventory. No credits to spend yet.
The only notable stat I had was my elemental affinity:
Air as Libra—rises above. Worsens fires and waters. Balances out earth. No weaknesses.
Curious now, I checked Miranda's stats.
Switching over to her, my avatar shifted out of focus this time. With Miranda as the center, she changed her stance, her body language. Letting go of my arm, she opted instead to wrap her hold around herself. Some show of aloofness, of pretending that everything was okay. She kept shifting her eyes from side to side, never meeting my sight directly. Of course I knew better. But I appreciated the reinforcement.
Miranda's barriers and health were at five thousand points. A full hundred times stronger than mine.
She had her signature biotic abilities unlocked: Warp and Slam. And she had access to Overload as usual.
She didn't have any weapons unlocked, but with her biotics, I guessed she didn't need them.
Nothing in her inventory, and no credits, either.
Her elemental affinity…definitely explained her current state of mind:
Earth as Virgo—reinforces all. Supplements water. Balances out air. Severe weakness to fire.
Biting back her panic, Miranda droned, "God, how wonderful. Of all things…"
"We should get out of here," I suggested, looking at the map. "There's an Alliance base nearby. Looks like it's Kaidan's location. No surprise he's this close to where we are now. Let's go there next."
"Please."
My car took off again, this time in the direction of that base.
The more distance we put between us and that burning house, the more Miranda relaxed against me.
I kept holding her close anyway.
We didn't need to say a word. She knew I understood.
As we neared the base, I knew that this wasn't the one in San Diego. Still with the same Alliance blues and silvers, this building felt different. Larger. More expansive. This must've been our main headquarters on Earth, in Vancouver. I'd only been up there a handful of times. But I remembered that Kaidan spent the majority of his treatment at this hospital. So he would have more emotional ties here.
No security awaited us at the entrance. Miranda and I just walked inside—we reached the brightness of the hospital right away, instead of having to make our way through the base first.
These echoing halls held our footsteps as we passed by the open rooms. More transparent people resided within the bed spaces: injured and disabled servicemen and women. I expected to find a few nurses roaming around, at least. Or maybe some of the patients who were well enough to walk around. At most we found a number of patients here and there sitting in chairs throughout the hallways. They all seemed in a good mood, with little smiles on their faces as they checked their omni-tools or chatted with their neighbors. More than that, they seemed at home here. Like this was where they really lived.
Just to check on her, I squeezed Miranda's hand in mine. "Hey. How are you doing?"
Miranda gave a small smile of her own. "I'm all right, Shepard. What about you?"
"I'm fine now that you are. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"It's sweet of you. Don't worry about me. I'm more interested in what's going on here. Is this the hospital where Kaidan stayed during his treatment and recovery?"
"Should be," I figured. "I've never actually been to this hospital before. Only the base itself."
"Well, how are we supposed to find his room? There are dozens all over."
"I don't know…"
Not too far away, we heard some other sounds of chiming chains.
Chains thicker than the one looped at my side.
Looking around, Miranda and I found the source of those sounds…somewhere near the floor. Near a few smiling patients sitting in the halls, receiving treatment from their…doctor. Their doctor wearing a Red Cross harness. Then, noticing us, the doctor came over this way, determined to meet us properly.
Distinctive features of tall, pointed ears, and a black and tan coat: the doctor was none other than a German shepherd dog. Adult-sized, but a little small, I assumed the dog was female. The silver chain around her neck sounded in-time with her footsteps. She really did have a Red Cross harness over her back, designating her as a doctor. As absurd as that sounded to me, I had to remember that this was Kaidan's dream. Of course not everything would make sense—or even be possible in the real world.
Miranda nearly stepped back once the dog neared us. "Shepard, is that…?"
"Yeah, it is. She's not transparent like everyone else. And she knows we're here. I wonder why."
"Maybe animals are an exception."
"Could be."
Dutiful already, the German shepherd sat down in front of us. She looked up between Miranda and me, her tail wagging in a gentle sort of rhythm. I'd heard that these dogs were more reserved than most, especially when meeting new people. So I was surprised that she'd decided to come up to us like this.
Miranda had the same thought as me: "Do you think she knows us somehow?"
"Probably," I said. The dog wagged her tail some more. "I get the feeling she understands us, too." Taking the chance, I addressed her: "Do you know where Kaidan's room is? Can you take us there?"
Giving a single bark, the German shepherd began leading us down the hall.
Miranda and I exchanged smiles, following after our new guide.
We soon arrived to Kaidan's room. The dog entered the automatic door first. Lying over the bed in his Alliance fatigues, Kaidan looked happy and normal enough. He had the television on along the far wall, watching the Alliance News Network. No injuries or anything to speak of: he was just here chilling out, in this bed while asleep in his actual bed in real life, dreaming a dream.
"Hey there, Doc," greeted Kaidan—the German shepherd went over to a few monitors near the floor, checking on her patient's vitals. He then noticed Miranda with me. "Oh! Hey, Commander. Miranda. Didn't expect to see you two here. You sure look nice. Out on a date in the middle of my dream, huh?"
"Hello, Kaidan," replied Miranda. "You could say we're on a date, yes. We just happened to find you."
"You know this is a dream?" I asked.
Kaidan insisted, "Of course! I've had this same recurring dream for a while now. Always in this place."
"All you do is hang out in this hospital room?"
"Yeah, it's pretty nice. I feel safe here. You know, getting away from the mission and combat. Feels like a vacation compared to all the grueling battlefields. This is the first time I've ever seen you and Miranda around. It's just been me and Doc here. Never thought I'd experience anything new in these things."
Miranda glanced down at Kaidan's doctor. "Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything…"
Kaidan laughed. "Surprised, huh?"
"To put it lightly, yes. Is there any particular reason why your doctor is a German shepherd?"
"No idea, actually. She didn't show up until a short while ago. Remember we were on Tuchanka, and that varren came up to the commander? Ever since I mentioned German shepherds that day, this dog's been here with me as the doctor on-call. Even her assistants are other animals—the head nurse is a St. Bernard! Kinda bizarre, but cute at the same time. Guess I've had dogs on my mind a little too much."
"Hmm, does she have a name?"
"She does. Some of the guys told me her real name is Major. But we're her patients, so we just call her Doc instead. No one pets her or anything. She doesn't seem to like it. Maybe it's sorta condescending, since she has such an important job. Who knows?"
"Major," I repeated.
Ears perking up more, Major wandered over this way. She circled around Miranda and me, brushing her smooth coat and her tail against us a few times. I picked up on her protective intentions.
Kaidan pointed out, "Pretty obvious she likes you two. I've never seen her like this with anyone else."
Miranda wondered, "Is she normally aloof with the other patients?"
"Aloof. Reserved. Almost like we're strangers. Just having her around makes everyone happy, anyway."
Major then went to the door, tail wagging again.
"Looks like it's that time," said Kaidan. "She has to get back to work. We shouldn't keep her."
"We shouldn't keep you, either," I mentioned. "But you're doing all right, aren't you?"
"Sure am. I appreciate the concern, Commander. You and Miranda should get back to your actual date—wherever it's supposed to be. Definitely not in this hospital. Must've lost your way. I'll see you around!"
"Okay, Kaidan. Take care."
Instead of getting back to her shift, Major led us to the hospital's exit.
Miranda speculated, "I don't think we should come back here very often. If Kaidan has recurring dreams—and he's lucid—he could grow suspicious if he sees us too much. I don't want to risk an awkward conversation about what we're really doing in his dream. Or how we arrived in the first place."
"That's true," I agreed. "I'd say it's the same for everyone else. If they keep seeing us over and over again, they might get suspicious, too. We should space out our visits. Be more strategic about them."
"You're right. Then again, I hoped Kaidan would know something about that burning house—if anyone lives there at all. He seems perfectly content here. I doubt he has much information."
"We could've asked him, you know."
"No… I didn't want to bring it up myself. Some part of me doesn't want the mystery to be solved."
At the security-free exit, Major sat down. She whined a little bit, seeming sad that we had to go.
"Sorry, Major," I told her. "Looks like you have to stay here. Your patients need you."
Miranda sighed in regret. "I wish we didn't have to be so cautious about our visits. She's too adorable."
"We'll figure something out."
Contrary to what Kaidan had told us, Major appeared to want our specific attention. She let me bend down to pet her, cheering up some with my touch. At the same time, she was happy to let Miranda scratch behind her ear, and smooth down her coat. Satisfied for the time being, she gave a contented bark before scurrying back down the hall, off to care for everyone else in the ward.
As we returned to the car, I noticed Miranda's mood had lightened much more. Setting aside that mystery from before, her emotions fully settled down. Emotional care from such an unexpected friend had done wonders for her temperament.
Driving around some more in this dark, we'd marked nearly everyone's locations on the map.
More central to everyone, Dr. Chakwas had her own hospital. Looked like Huerta Memorial on the Citadel. Appropriately, her place wasn't too far from the Normandy.
Joker's location was the Normandy itself.
Miranda and I were able to board the ship to view his dream. Yet as soon as we did, we wished we hadn't. We found Joker asleep in the cockpit-turned-bedroom. Shirtless, wearing only a loose pair of boxers, he breathed on, dreaming himself asleep like this. All around him, multiple EDI bots were sprawled out on the floor. They all had their legs open in a suggestive position. Each one of them looked used and discarded, their expressions contorted into absurdity, eyes crossed and lulling. And there was something about Joker's breathing that hinted at his true state: how disturbed he was. Bothered, worried, broken—on an emotional level. Something of his issues with intimacy had spelled out here.
Nearby, Wrex's place resembled Tuchanka: that slope of broken stone leading up to his throne. Since he wasn't there, I assumed he was actually awake at this hour. Or sleepwalking, as he used to do years ago.
Miranda reasoned that EDI and Legion wouldn't have anything here. They were synthetics, after all. Our collective unconscious was supposed to be for organics only. Maybe this could change somehow in time.
The only other person remaining was Jack.
We hadn't found anything for her yet.
I also wondered if, on the off-chance, we might've found something for Liara.
There was nothing. Or her place was just that difficult to find, like Jack's location apparently was.
Driving around for what felt like hours, we were about to give up and head back to HQ for the night. Our time was running out: already, the skies had lightened, tinting with the approaching dawn. We had to exit the game before seven in the morning. Miranda warned that we might get stuck here if we weren't able to get out in time. So we couldn't afford to keep wandering around like this.
Miranda sighed. "What a coincidence that she's the most elusive of our teammates."
"Are you really surprised, though?" I asked.
"I suppose not… I'd actually hoped to snoop on her dreams. I want to know what's going on with her."
"I'd tell you to just ask, but knowing Jack, she wouldn't give you a straight answer."
"Yes, precisely. That's why I wanted a more direct avenue to her mind. But this is a bit much."
"Yeah, I know…" I felt hopeful once we drove through the city's red light district—lines of clubs and bars and restaurants packed block after block, with wild, drunken citizens hopping from place to place. I could've sworn I spotted Aria's Afterlife club not too far away. "Wait a minute. Jack likes to party and let loose. Shouldn't her place be somewhere around here?"
"It should be. Now where is it—?"
Just barely, we heard screams of panic from the upcoming street.
My car followed the noise—in the direction of the largest place on the block. Giant, blazing letters spelled out Club Inferno at the very top of the tower rising to the dawn's skies. At the ground level, several civilians ran out the front doors. I worried that this was all part of Jack's dream—as the navigation system had finally marked her name at this club—but that wasn't it. Piercing over those screams, I heard the familiar sounds of particle rifles going off. Clicking languages, and wings buzzing: several Collectors rushed out the building, opening fire on the civilians around, rushing them non-stop.
I blurted out, "What the hell are the Collectors doing here?"
"Jack must be having a nightmare," reasoned Miranda. "I'm not sure if we'll be able to help… There are far too many hostiles. Look at all of them."
"I don't have a weapon, either. This damn omni-blade won't do much."
"I know. I have my biotics, but I don't think it's worth it. Maybe…we should turn around."
My car followed Miranda's suggestion, driving away from the madness of Jack's apparent nightmare.
Frustrated, I looked through the upgrades I hadn't unlocked yet.
"I can't unlock any guns at all. I can only buy them from shops. But I don't have any credits. Everything I can unlock here looks stealth-related. Not for actual combat. How are we supposed to help someone having a nightmare like that?"
"Well, this could be the game incentivizing us to leave. When everything refreshes and reloads for next time, you could find a different story. I understand you're frustrated, Shepard. But this isn't a typical game. It's far more cerebral than the usual reward-based approach. Not everything is as obvious or straight-forward as it could be."
"We can't come back any time soon, though. You said it yourself."
"Unfortunately not. We need to give Kaidan some time to forget seeing us. He'll assume it was a mere coincidence. Since it's almost that time, we should exit the game using our omni-tools. Everything will save automatically. We'll reappear in my bed in real life."
"All right," I said, taking one last look out the window. "Hopefully we'll figure the rest out soon enough."
Miranda soothed me: "We will. You know we will. It's only a matter of time." She pulled my attention back to her, the dawn glimmering over her sight, her skin. "Once we're back in my room, I want you to see how you feel. Depending on how this goes, we could have quite an eventful morning. It's up to you."
Smirking now, I asked, "What are you hinting about, babe?"
Smiling in innocence, Miranda wouldn't say.
I was just about to persuade her to give me a bit more.
Sudden collision against something outside: the car came to a halt, steel grinding as a crash. In this whiplash, I grabbed hold of Miranda, protecting her from this suddenness as best as I could. When everything stopped, we were able to breathe. I checked her over; she seemed okay. Nodding to me, Miranda looked around, the both of us clueless as to what had happened. We got out from the car to investigate.
Smoking in ruin, the front of the car had been completely totaled. This wreckage looked like a full-on collision against something ahead.
Something, or someone.
Just ahead, rising as a field of flames, someone stood there. Menacing before the blaze of the dawn, that armored person wore the cage of their own mind, locked and jailed behind those bars aflame. Burning, standing, living in my mind, she was there, wielding that same M-7 Lancer assault rifle I remembered. Well overhead, several Collectors filled the skies, flying and buzzing and about to descend, coordinated with this heated shock.
Here on the ground, she aimed that gun right at Miranda.
We both knew exactly who this was.
I stood between them anyway. Shielding Miranda with my own body, as pitifully weak as my shields were in this game.
Miranda couldn't, wouldn't think to attack. And even if she could, the enemy, this boss before us only had to shoot her weapon, sending us to a game over.
We had no choice but to leave. Cowardly as it felt, there was no other way.
We used our omni-tools to exit the game—dissolving all back to Miranda's bedroom, back to the morning light, and far, far away from danger.