"The Cycle Continues" from The Last of Us Part II

LIII. Pragia

(Miranda)

A mere impossibility weeks, months, years ago, now a reality today:

Liara stood beside me in this hotel room. She stared out the same windows as I did. Her eyes lit up by the same sights as mine did: the night city glittering in Palaven's silver, sculptured ingenuity. We shared in this quiet moment for a while, waiting for Shepard to return. I let Liara regain her bearings, getting used to living beyond Insomnia again. She seemed to appreciate these sights before us, finding them familiar. So I assumed my thinking had been right before, about Liara having visited Palaven's mountains in the past, causing these more recent changes with Shepard's emotions. And I could understand the idea, intellectually. Yet the thought continued to bother me. Chipping away at something in my heart.

Even more went on with me, somewhere.

But it felt oddly freeing. Oddly, because perhaps it shouldn't have been. And yet it truly felt as much.

"Miranda," said Liara. She found my gaze reflected in the glass. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I… I don't know. Rather, I'm not sure how to explain it. Just a few growing pains, I suppose. Hopefully."

"Hmm." She still worried for me.

"It's nothing, really," I promised. "What about you? How are you feeling now?"

Liara touched the cold silver separating the windows. "As surreal as this is, I'm enjoying the changes. I spent so long merely watching the galaxy through Shepard's eyes. Actually feeling these sensations again, being present in this space—it reminds me of what I'd lost. I'm beginning to appreciate it more."

"You're relieved to be back, then?"

"Yes, very much so." Liara gave a more pointed tone: "Thank you for dealing with that issue for me. From before. Months ago. You pulled off what I had been meaning to achieve on my own. We both know how that turned out. You were quite masterful in your planning and execution. I commend you."

"Of course," I replied, glad for her gratitude. "You and I established how dangerous she was. She needed to be dealt with. The more time passes, the less guilty I feel over what I did. It was a simple necessity."

"You shouldn't feel any guilt for what you achieved. It was necessary, as you said. I know you will always do whatever is needed, whenever it is most important. To that end, I can tell there is something else on your mind. Perhaps something you've been meaning to discuss with me. Or am I misreading you?"

"No, you're right… I'm surprised you noticed, that's all."

Liara smiled at me with such ease. "Miranda, I know you better than you might think."

I laughed in comfort. "Well, I suppose you would by now."

"So tell me," she encouraged. "I'm happy to listen."

Shepard would reappear in the room at any moment now, after quitting the game.

But if I held this in any longer, I feared the words would burst inside of me, shrapnel scraping my heart.

"I suppose I'm just—afraid," I admitted. "Afraid of not living up to Shepard's expectations. Terrified of leading her astray; making some terrible mistake she and I might never recover from. I could hurt her, break her heart somehow. And then our bond would end up broken. The Reapers would destroy us all—because of me. Because I couldn't keep this relationship going. It's honestly too much for me to handle."

Liara knew. "You haven't shared this with her."

"Liara, of course not. What could I possibly say to her? I've done my best to hold on. To find my own ways of coping. Listening to Thane, his notions of faith and belief…it helps. For the most part. But there are times when even that won't help. I don't want to show Shepard this weakness of mine. I can't do it."

"You're ultimately worried this will end up compromising the mission."

"Yes… Shepard wouldn't accept that. After all, it's my belief in her abilities that will get us through this."

Liara pointed out, "Miranda, it isn't her you're doubting. You are doubting yourself. There is a difference. I don't believe this would have the same effect. Shiala hasn't contacted you after your meeting on Illium, has she? To warn of any rifts or dangers with Shepard's connection with you?"

"She hasn't," I remembered. "So perhaps you're right. I'm worrying myself sick over nothing, it seems."

"You've always been the worrying type," she teased.

I smiled at that. "I suppose that's true. No news is good news with Shiala. That's a relief. Thank you."

As Liara and I continued speaking, I wondered about something else. If I should ask for her promise to not do anything with Shepard. To not go after her behind my back. Yet for some reason, it felt as if we'd already had this conversation before. I truly felt as if I already had Liara's promise on the matter. Asking her about it now would have been redundant. I already knew I could trust her. And yet I had such a difficult time trusting Shepard with these more painful secrets of mine. I really wished this wasn't so.

Perfect timing—Shepard reappeared in the room, closer to the bed, after exiting the VR game. She glanced over at Liara and me together, finding our eyes on her as we spoke on. Respecting our ongoing talk, Shepard kept to herself for now, going over to the holo-closet. She changed from her stealth suit into her formal Alliance officer's uniform. I would never get over how handsome and put-together she looked, dressed up in such a way. She took her duties seriously as our captain, and I admired that of her.

Approaching us now, Shepard asked me, "Do you have everything, babe?"

"Yes, I do," I confirmed, smiling more. "We're ready to head off if you are. The team's waiting for us."

Liara mirrored my smile, prepared to return to the Normandy.

Shepard nodded in acknowledgment, leading us out the room.

As we went downstairs to the lobby, to check-out from the Kingsglaive, Liara and I shared more conversation—about the hotel, about Palaven, about everything. We kept our eyes to the back of Shepard's head, to the sheen of her long hair, to her strong back and stature as she walked ahead of us.

Back on the ship, I expected Liara to look around more. But of course, I remembered this was technically nothing new for her. As we passed through the empty bridge, I felt her anticipation growing, positively.

"Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Liara."

She beamed at me. "Thank you, Miranda."

Through the lab, we had nearly reached the comm room.

Even from here, Shepard, Liara and I could hear everyone's fervent speculating.

I announced, "Let me go in first. I'll try to corral everyone; get them to settle down. Once they do, feel free to come in the room. I doubt this will end up being terribly formal."

"Yes, I agree," noted Liara. "Shepard and I will wait here. You go on ahead."

Shepard gave me a stoic nod.

I couldn't help smirking at her, making my way to the comm room.

Rowdy and informal as informal could be, I found everyone at the center table. Standing near the table, sitting on top of the surface, leaning there—no real regard for any sense of order, the team speculated on and on about what awaited. Joker and Dr. Chakwas had joined the group, per my request. They had joined in with Legion, Zaeed, Garrus, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, Samara, Thane, James, and Javik, with everyone speaking as one large group, disparate conversations all melding into one. For once, they didn't exactly calm down once I entered the room. Instead, they ramped up their discussions, now bombarding me with questions. I couldn't understand a word anyone said, words jumbling into a mess.

Taking my spot near the head of the table, I gestured for the group to settle down.

"Listen to me," I said, forcing a quieted calm in the comm room. "You'll have your questions answered in a moment. I only need you to be patient. And I know it's late. This will just take a little while longer."

Joker could hardly contain himself. "C'mon, Miranda, not even a hint? You really gonna make us wait?!"

Dr. Chakwas teased him, "I'm sure you can be patient for just a bit longer. The same goes for all of you."

"I don't know, Doc," said Kaidan. "Feels like a pretty big deal. Like a game-changer. Not sure how else to describe it. There's this feeling in the air. Can't quite put my finger on what it is. Seems important."

"Important, momentous, indeed," agreed Mordin. "Rare for Shepard to offer surprises, instill such anticipation. Typically not one for excitement. Must be important matter, as Kaidan said. Going about surprise with surprisingly playful methods. Unexpected, not-expected. But quite fun! Can't complain."

Rather emotional, Tali held onto Garrus' arm for support. More than anyone, I sensed her hopes. Her wants. Her truest anticipation over what this could have been. Garrus was kind enough to stay strong for her, though he of course had his own wonderings. They both supported one another in their silence.

Pensive as always, Thane and Samara remained even quieter. They exchanged whispered words with one another. If I didn't know any better, Samara somehow seemed to know what this was about.

Meanwhile, the rowdiness and energy about the room were just about to rise again—in impatience.

Until the door to the comm room slipped open.

Until Shepard walked in, keeping her own supportive arm around Liara's shoulders.

Unusually timid—even for her—Liara kept her head down, unable to face everyone all at once like this.

The comm room erupted with everyone's joyous shock and awe. Calls of Liara's name, cries of incredulity, shouts of wonder and amazement and glee. The whole team quickly congregated near the door with Liara and Shepard, needing to get a better look. Needing to make certain that this was real. Quicker than my eyes could see, Tali bolted over to Liara first. She beat the rest of the crowd, hurrying along, hardly holding back her tears of joy. Before Liara could realize what went on, Tali all but tackled her with a hug. And the whole team watched as Liara smiled, holding her best friend close. Tali cried and cried against her shoulder, continuously shaking her head in disbelief. Nearly everyone else smiled and laughed, save for Javik, who had settled for standing just nearby.

Emotionally-removed from the moment, Javik at least appreciated how our teammates felt. He remained respectful enough, much to my surprise. But I couldn't expect any less from him.

The first coherent words came from Legion—"Greetings, Dr. T'Soni."

Liara no doubt recognized Legion's voice from its call about the Lazarus Project.

"Hello, Legion. It is good to meet you at long last. All of you. Thank you for the warm welcome."

Everyone smiled at her—again, except for Javik, who continued to observe the group from a distance.

Liara noticed him as well. She seemed to want to interact with him, yet she held off for now. I could imagine her paying Javik a visit at a later, less hectic and crowded time.

Going along with this informal flow, Shepard elected not to take her spot at the head of the table.

Instead, she stayed right where she was, speaking up: "Looks like Liara doesn't need any introductions. And I know you'd like to spend some time with her, ask questions, show her around the ship. So let me just get this out of the way now. Liara, I'm assigning you as our second science officer, along with Mordin. You can link your Prothean studies to the Collectors, gathering data and analyzing it from your unique perspective. Feel free to work with Mordin in the lab whenever you're up for it."

"Of course," accepted Liara, exchanging smiles with Mordin as well.

Shepard offered her hand. "Welcome back to the team, Liara."

Liara shook her hand, bright with optimism. "Thank you, Commander. It is nice to return home."

"On a final note, we have the full team now. This is everyone, plus Aria and Wrex later on. No more surprises—officially. Mordin, how's progress going with that simulation? Are you still working on it?"

"Yes, progress ongoing!" confirmed Mordin. "Assistance from EDI, Legion, Tali ensures project will be success. Still need time to solve bugs, deal with various glitches. Will have simulation ready for Armax Arena on Citadel in next few weeks. Suggest handling personal missions for team members until then."

"Understood. I'll let you all catch up with Liara, then. Dismissed."

Surrounding Liara once more, everyone did their best to not bombard her with questions. She somehow kept up with our conversations—accepting Garrus' invite to TRS, accepting my explanation about her room in the officers' section of the crew's quarters, accepting the team's offer to show her around the new Normandy. Somehow, in the middle of our discussions, Shepard had disappeared without a word. I hadn't noticed until Tali looked around, expressing her disappointment, as she had wanted to give our captain a hug as thanks for the surprise. Not one for all this noise, Shepard had already taken her leave, vanishing through the crowd on her own. Thinking nothing of it, the rest of us continued on playing host to Liara as her homecoming. At last our team for the suicide mission and beyond was fully complete.

Without a doubt, Liara's return had brought the team much closer together.

Her presence sealed a gap I hadn't realized was there. Several gaps, really. I couldn't have been happier.

Allowing some time for Liara to settle in, these couple of weeks passed to the beginning of May. During this brief lapse, Liara had spent a significant amount of time with me—here in my office, or in the lab with Mordin, or in her room with Tali for the three of us as a group. Much to my relief, Tali and Liara as a trio with me shared my concerns. We usually spent our time together discussing Aria, what to expect with her. I remained pleased, discovering that the three of us essentially felt the same way about our other asari teammate. We bonded over our shared distrust of her. How convinced we were that she had no chance with Shepard whatsoever, and yet Aria's delusions would always claim otherwise. Amusing and entertaining, I enjoyed sharing in these sentiments with Liara and Tali both, glad to have this alliance with them. More so with Tali, as she'd been avoiding me before. Certainly no more these days.

Meanwhile, Shepard used this time to interact more with the rest of the team. I appreciated her taking the initiative like this, speaking with everyone more often. Yes, she and I made the sacrifice of spending less time together. We hadn't had sex since our time on Palaven, though that night in the hotel room remained no less vivid and emotional for me. But I was all too happy to make that sacrifice for the mission. I wanted Shepard to get to know the team better, for them to trust her more on a personal level. She had finally taken the steps to ensure that on her own—without needing me to remind her.

At some point, Liara and Tali separated from me, off to spend time with the rest of the original team—Joker, Kaidan, Dr. Chakwas, and Garrus. While they all shared a meal together in the mess hall, I went to visit Thane in the life support area. I expected to find him reading again. Instead, Thane merely stared out at the drive core pulsing past the window. He sat at his table in a pensive silence, as usual for him.

But something of his thoughtfulness seemed rather somber today.

"Do you need something?" asked Thane on my approach.

I wondered, "Have a few minutes to talk?"

"Certainly," he allowed. "We haven't had a chance since Liara's return. Understandably so."

"I apologize for the wait, Thane. I only wanted to help Liara settle in first. She's doing fine now."

"But of course," said Thane, gesturing to the seat in front of him. "Please sit, Miranda."

"Thank you," I accepted, resuming this ritual of ours. "I recall you were once gravely ill. Kepral's Syndrome, I believe it's called. Is there any chance your illness might return, even after treatment?"

"It is an improbable chance, but not impossible. Though the illness is not communicable, even to other drell."

"What exactly was the problem before?"

Thane explained, "My people are native to an arid world. Most of us now live on Kahje, the hanar homeworld, as you know. It's very humid, and rains every day. Our lungs can't deal with the moisture. Over time, the tissue loses its ability to absorb oxygen. It becomes harder to breathe. Eventually, we suffocate. Drell have such a close relationship with the hanar. We rely on each other. Not living on Kahje is frankly impossible, hence the hanar's quickness to formulate a cure for our woes. I was fortunate enough to benefit from their hard work. We also keep our homes very dry inside, whenever possible."

"You know, aside from what you've told me, I'm not all too familiar with Kahje. What is the planet like?"

"It is a beautiful world," he said, smiling gently. "The dangers of the constant rains pale in comparison to Kahje's celestial wonders. Other drell live within the city of Cnidaria—a domed, climate-controlled location, mostly safe from the humid rains outside. Beyond Cnidaria, most of Kahje's surface is covered by a vast ocean, known as the Encompassing. Several white clouds blanket the planet's surface as well, covering the world's many Prothean ruins, underwater volcanoes, and other religious holy lands."

"That sounds fascinating," I remarked. "Have you explored the planet at all beyond your domed city?"

"Yes, I have traveled all across Kahje for my assassination contracts. It is said the Gates of Paradise are found within Kahje's celestial capital, Al'Taieu. The hanar's many government buildings are also located in Al'Taieu, such as the Grand Palace of Hu'Xzoi, where the Illuminated Primacy hold their most sacred meetings. You will find several other historical locations across the celestial capital, such as the Empyreal Paradox. Many a traveler has looked directly into the souls of their companions within the Paradox, surrounded by the crystals there. The hanar derive their Soul Names from this phenomenon."

"I have to say, that does sound quite beautiful. I regret never traveling to Kahje myself. Aside from visits to Earth, Illium, and the Citadel, I'm afraid I don't get out much. You've broadened my horizons already."

Thane gave a sad smile. "I am glad to hear it, Miranda."

That dour mood of his seemed undeniable now.

"Thane? Is there something wrong?"

"Well, yes… Now that you are here, though—it seems more difficult to talk about."

"Have you been dwelling on the illness you had before?"

"I suppose that is part of it," admitted Thane. "My mortality has me dwelling on things, certainly."

Needing a moment, Thane stood up, wandering over to the weapon display nearby. He stared at the guns past the glass, finding his reflection within. And when he finally spoke, I found myself sympathetic toward him:

"I had a family, once. I still have a son. His name is Kolyat. I haven't seen him in a very long time."

I went over to him, asking, "Did something happen to your family?"

Thane regarded me in-earnest.

"I abandoned them." Startling me, he made sure to clarify: "Oh, not all at once. Nothing dramatic. No sneaking out in the middle of the night. No final argument or slammed door. I just…did my job. I hunted and killed across the galaxy. 'Away on business,' my wife would tell people. I was always away on business."

Considering what I had gone through with Oriana, I could understand his point of view…

"How long has it been since you last spoke with your family?"

"Ten years. Kolyat showed me some of his schoolwork, and asked if we could dance crazy. We did that when he was younger."

Taken aback, I asked, "What sort of dance is that?"

"It's—" Thane entered a focused state—speaking quicker, recalling with startling clarity: "I check my extranet contacts. I expect an update on my next target. The console plays music. Old. Unfashionable. Kolyat jumps into the room. 'Hi, father!' Runs around in circles. I scoop him up. Toss him into the air. He shrieks, laughs. 'Spin me!' The console beeps. I put him down. Click the message. 'Father,' he pleads. Tugs my sleeve. 'I need to read this,' I said. I don't look at him."

Quieting in shame, Thane lowered his head.

These memories continued to haunt him, even now.

"This must be weighing on you," I told him.

"When my wife departed from her body, I—attended to that issue. I left Kolyat in the care of his aunts and uncles on Kahje. I have not seen or talked to him since."

"That's not the choice I expected. Why didn't you raise him yourself?"

"My body is blessed with the skills to take life. The hanar honed them in me. I have few others. I didn't want that life for Kolyat. I hoped he would find his own way. If he hated me, so be it. He would not have shared the path of sin. But recently, I used my contacts to trace Kolyat. He has become—disconnected. He does what his body wills."

"You'll have to explain that one to me," I requested.

Thane did so: "Disconnected. The body is not our true self. The soul is. Body and soul work as one in a Whole Person. When the soul is weakened by despair or fear—when the body is ill or injured, the individual is disconnected. No longer Whole."

"Then what's wrong with your son? Is he hurt?"

"Something happened that should not have. He knows where I've been, what I've done. I don't know his reasons, but he has taken a job as a hitman. I would like your help to stop him. He is—this is not a path he should walk. I must atone for my sins with him. I must find my absolution before proceeding with the mission."

"I understand, Thane. I'm only wondering if this is Kolyat's way of trying to get closer to you."

"That thought haunts me more than any other."

"I would be honored to help you. But don't you think you should ask Shepard about this, too?"

Ashamed once more, Thane looked away from me.

"Commander Shepard has yet to speak with me one-on-one. I recalled your advice, sought to give her time. Yet seeing her spend such time with our other teammates—instead of me—has made her motivations quite clear. She dislikes me. She distrusts me. I cannot know why. Not for certain. But I believe she knows of my quest for redemption. She has looked into my judgment and found it lacking."

Hearing that made me hurt for him. "Thane, I know what this looks like. I still advise you to bring this up to Shepard directly—even if it's not in private. You'll have to get her permission to go and find Kolyat, wherever he is. I'm certain Shepard will at least heed your request. Then I can help you on my own."

"I appreciate that, Miranda. I will follow your advice. Thank you."

"Will we just go looking for Kolyat, to try and talk some sense into him?"

"Yes, that would be ideal," answered Thane. "The last time I saw my son—" Again he returned to that trance: "They've wrapped her body in sea-vines. Weighted it with stones. He tries to pull from me. Calls for her. The hanar lift her off the platform. They sing like bells. 'The Fire has gone, to be kindled anew.' He begs them not to take her away. They let her body slide into the water. He hits me. 'Don't let them! Why weren't you—?' It rains. It always rains on Kahje. Warm water pours down his face…"

How intense. "I didn't mean to make you relive that."

"Perfect memory. It is sometimes a burden. Though I can also find myself recalling wrong memories. Imperfect perceptions. My understanding of Commander Shepard, my readings of her are one such instance. She is impossible to know, impossible to predict. I question your stability with her. Shepard believes she knows everything. Do you truly feel at ease with one so self-righteous and judgmental?"

That pointed passion in his voice threw me for a loop.

Alarmed, Thane realized what he had just said out loud.

He turned his back to me, retreating to his seat across the way.

"Forgive me, Miranda. I misspoke. Please disregard what I said. I must return to my meditations."

As emotional as he was right now, surely he didn't mean a word of what he'd just said about Shepard…

So I gave him the benefit of the doubt: "I understand, Thane. I'll be on my way, then. I would still like us to speak some other time. Whenever you're free. Is it all right if we continue our conversation later on?"

"Yes, that would be fine," he accepted, rather distant. "If you could also avoid mentioning this to her…"

I caught that fear in his tone, ever-so-slight.

Extraordinary.

"You needn't worry about that. I won't mention this to her. Try not to think anything of it."

Lowering his head in thought, in prayer, Thane accepted my promise and my counsel.

I took that as my cue to leave.

And I hoped he would find his balance again, somehow. I didn't particularly enjoy seeing him so upset.

More than anything, I wished Shepard would just speak to Thane already. She had to know by now that he was unfocused. Even if she didn't join us in attending to his personal mission, I only wanted her to interact with him. She had spoken with everyone else over these past couple of weeks—except for Liara, now that I thought about it. That made more sense, as the two of them still needed time to work things out. But Thane hadn't done anything to her. I couldn't wrap my head around her feelings on the matter.

For now, I made my way down to the engineering deck. Liara had mentioned going to speak with Javik—after spending time with the others in the mess hall. And I hoped their conversation would go well enough. But, knowing how Javik was, I worried about the exact opposite happening instead.

Arriving to Javik's quarters in the port cargo room, I found our Prothean expert with the Prothean.

Liara sounded rather apprehensive, "If you don't mind, I have a few more questions I'd like to ask…"

Javik gave her a hardened stare.

"I've written over a dozen studies on your species. I've published in several journals—"

"Amusing," remarked Javik. "Asari have finally mastered writing."

Liara cut him an offended look. "I'm sorry?"

"Never mind. What do you wish to know?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind starting small," prefaced Liara, despite her budding excitement. Her questions steadily grew more animated: "In short, what was Prothean civilization like? I've always wondered. What sort of government did you have? And can you tell me about your religious beliefs? Or perhaps—"

"We are dead now. Just as you once were. What does it matter?"

"I'm…sorry. Studying your history has been a lifelong passion of mine."

Javik took pity on her, explaining, "When I was born, our empire was already at war with the Reapers. The first thing I remember was seeing my planet on fire. Before that, we were the dominant race of our cycle. We ruled the galaxy."

"My studies indicated you were the only race engaged in space travel at the time. I always found that curious."

"We were one empire composed of many subjects. All eventually called themselves 'Prothean.' Any could oppose us if they wished. And if they had won, they would have ruled. None succeeded."

Liara sounded chilled by the information—"To learn that the Protheans were so…severe."

"It was by necessity," insisted Javik. "Very early we encountered the dangers posed by machine intelligence. They rebelled against us. In my cycle, your 'geth' aboard this ship would have been decimated. We could not allow the machines to surpass us. It was decided the only way to win was to unite all organic life within our empire."

"Did it work?"

"For a time. The Metacon War. We were turning the tide. Until the Reapers arrived. Then we understood the machines had surpassed us long ago in ways we could never imagine."

Liara glanced at me, inviting me to her side. "What can you tell us about your own war with the Reapers?"

"Many of the details were lost. The conflict lasted for centuries. Those that faced the Reapers in the beginning were long dead when I was born. There were memory shards, however, passed down from soldier to soldier. They gave us fragments of what happened. We saw how our ancestors resisted Reaper indoctrination; disabling the Reapers from within, from their backdoors. We learned that only we as Protheans could achieve this—as organics—due to the connection we each shared, through our collective unconscious. But this method was eventually lost to time. We could not use it to win the war."

"Well, if you didn't have the method Shepard used against Sovereign, how did your people wage war?"

"Attrition. We fought them system by system, planet by planet, city by city. Entire worlds were sacrificed just to slow the Reapers down. Time they spent harvesting a population was time we could regroup."

Liara pointed out, "That must have cost you in the long-run."

"Yes," acknowledged Javik. "Our own people would be indoctrinated…converted into the Collectors you now know today. They turned against us. But there was no choice. Mercy is not a weapon—it is a weakness."

"If that is true, why do you think your own cycle lost the war?"

"What had been our strength—our empire—became a liability. All races conformed to one doctrine, one strategy. The Reapers exploited this. Once they found our weaknesses, we could not adapt. The subservient races became divided and confused. Then, it was only a matter of time. Your cycle will rely on the willpower of one woman, a single human. I expect the Reapers will find her weakness and exploit it—if they have not done so already. Or perhaps she will evade their lofty attempts. It is difficult to say."

Javik made such a point of not making eye contact with me.

Liara noticed as well, asking, "Then what do you believe Shepard's weakness is? Could you speculate?"

"The commander is only as strong as the one who believes in her."

At last I spoke up for myself—"Just what exactly are you trying to say?"

Javik pierced my stare with the hollowing weight of his disinterest.

"You are weak, human," he sneered. "Your mind is poisoned by petty games and childish concerns. You are haunted by the flames of the soldier you once betrayed. Your jealousy toward the more powerful asari—the queen of the land you call Omega—reveals your flawed existence, how primitive you are in comparison to her. No matter your efforts, you will never live up to the commander's expectations. You will never be real enough in her eyes. And you will never earn her truest, eternal devotion—all because you continuously peddle in secrets and lies. You know this to be true, thus you fear your inevitable failures in the coming war. I believe the commander senses your fears. She grows tired of coddling you."

…

"Javik," scolded Liara. "Please stop this. You aren't helping Miranda at all."

Javik asserted, "She asked a question. I provided my answer. This is how conversation works, asari."

"Do you really need to be so…insensitive?"

"No. But it is satisfying to tell the truth to a liar's cowardly face. So we will see what becomes of her."

Angry on my behalf, Liara held my arm, escorting me out of the room.

She had us take the elevator back to the crew deck. Back to my office we went. Alone, just the two of us…even as my thoughts, my reflection of myself wilted and wilted in the wake of Javik's words.

Sitting at my desk with Liara standing next to me, this weight refused to leave.

As if it could have brought me down at any moment.

As if it could have pulled me into a dark, terrible void—one I had been avoiding for all my life.

Everything Javik had said was true. I knew it was. I fucking knew it.

Hearing his words echo in my head, his contempt playing again and again on repeat… This was too much like looking at myself in the mirror—for the actual first time—and finding myself useless and decrepit. I found this truth after spending decades seeing what I wanted to see of myself. Building this specific, perfect image that no one could critique, that no one could tear down to get at me—to tear at me.

I feared what would happen now that Javik had torn my persona clear off my face, bloody and broken.

"Miranda," tried Liara. "He shouldn't have said what he did. It was completely uncalled for."

Not wanting to discuss this, I shook my head.

Reticent now, Liara understood. "Then what would you rather do instead?"

I fell back to my worst instincts:

Needing this hit, returning to my one true addiction to sate my loss of control—I pulled up the Normandy's surveillance feeds. The moment I found Shepard again, draped in that dapper confidence of her Alliance uniform, I found my calm. I could finally breathe. I could forget about those words echoing in my head. I could move past that and return to what had worked for me…or at least I thought I could.

Through the feed, Liara and I watched as Shepard spoke on with Kasumi in the mess hall.

The two of them sat at a table together, easygoing and agreeable with one another.

Yet as soon as we tuned in, Shepard and Kasumi both stopped speaking.

They stared at one another in an annoyed silence. Knowing what the issue was—as if they sensed my eyes on them, Liara's eyes on them—Shepard and Kasumi scowled in reaction. For a moment, they drifted their stares elsewhere. Wondering how to proceed. Wondering if they should say anything.

How did Shepard always know when I had my eye on her like this?

Kasumi sighed in disappointment. "Right, so…should we pick this up later?"

"That's fine," allowed Shepard. "We'll get to Bekenstein on the first Monday of May, like you asked. Let's just go over the whole thing once it's time. What did you say the name of the show was?"

"The Thousand Faces of Commander Shepard. Good old Donovan Hock isn't shy about his obsession with you. He's trying to upstage the Met Gala on Earth. You know, in New York City. It's the only reason he's holding the show on that day. Anyway, I'll drop you off at the palace, go find Keiji's greybox. You'll do your thing and find Hock for me. We'll discuss the details once we get to the colony. Should be fun!"

"If you say so. I'd better head out and talk to Jack. I'll see you around, Kasumi."

"You bet. Thanks for talking with me. I appreciate it. Take care, Shep."

Shepard left Kasumi's side; I shut off the surveillance feed.

I asked Liara, "Is she going to see Jack? Or is she on her way here instead?"

"…I actually don't know."

"What? What do you mean you don't know?! I thought you always knew!"

Liara pained herself to explain: "Ever since Shepard found me the other night, I haven't been able to sense much about her. There were times in the past when she would block my access. Keeping me out on purpose, just to have her own personal space. I assumed she had done this again when we finally spoke. And I admittedly grew suspicious of her, accusing Shepard of purposely hiding information from me. But it looks like this isn't her doing. There is a powerful block around her—one I can't seem to breach on my own. Something like this, how unyielding it is…I know it isn't from her. It's impossible."

"I don't enjoy the sound of that," I worried. "How are we supposed to keep track of—?"

The door to my office suddenly opened.

And in walked Shepard, looking absolutely furious with the both of us.

I clamored to my feet on a reflex. Liara even took a few steps back in her shock.

We both expected Shepard to shout at us, to make her grievances known. To openly scold us for our spying, scalding our need to know every detail about her, to constantly have eyes on her at every waking moment of the day. I fully anticipated Shepard would lay into us for treating her like a child, never letting her breathe without knowing where she was. She had every right to…even though I disagreed.

Instead, she held herself back.

Instead, Shepard merely told us, "Jack has some business to take care of on Pragia. She wants you with us. Both of you. Don't ask questions. Just come with me down to the engineering subdeck. Now."

Knowing we had misbehaved, Liara and I kept our heads down, doing as we were told.

Knowing we had displeased her, we said not a word as Shepard guided us down to our destination.

Down in the reddened-darkness of the subdeck, Jack waited for us in silence. She sat on her bed, watching as we descended the stairs. Somehow, the shadows hit her face much harder, sharper in her stark mood, as stark as her surroundings. Jack could have cut Liara with her sharp gaze alone. And Liara felt that scrutiny, curling into herself as a result. Clearly, Liara had taken up much of Tali's time and attention since her return, and Jack did not appreciate it. But she would never, ever say such a thing.

Shepard asked her, "So, you sure you want to do this?"

"Completely," asserted Jack. "I need to get this shit over with. Get it out of my system. It's been with me for way too long. The way I see it, I do this, and I'm free again. At least until the next thing comes up."

"Okay. I already set a course for Pragia. We'll be there in the next hour. For now, you should explain what's going on to Liara and Miranda. They're a bit out-of-the-loop."

Jack acknowledged, "Well, Miranda knows enough. Guess old smarty-pants Blue needs a crash course." Liara looked rather offended at the name, but chose not to protest. "Right, so—basically, Cerberus raised me. First thing I remember is my cell door in a Cerberus base. They did experiments. Drugged me. Tortured me. Whatever chance I had to be normal, they stole it by trying to turn me into some super-biotic. The doctors…the other kids. Every one of them hated me. They let me suffer."

Liara knew some of this, yet she still sounded horrified—"There were other children in this base?"

"I didn't know much about them," said Jack. "I was kept separate. They hated me, just like everyone else there. When I broke out, I had to fight through them all. I showed them, but there's a loose end I need to deal with."

"What did they hope to gain by torturing you at such a young age?"

"It was something about pain breaking down mental barriers, and how it might clear the way for more biotic power. I'm sure there was a payoff due at some point, but I wasn't going to see it. I was wired up in a cell."

"They tortured you just to see if they could make a stronger biotic? That's it?"

Jack shrugged. "Wasn't in a position to ask, Blue. All I know is, a little girl crying in a cell, begging for the pain to stop."

Taking more sympathy, Liara asked, "How did you manage to escape?"

"There was some kind of emergency and I made a break for it. The other kids came out of their cells and attacked me. So did the guards. Pretty sure they did it on purpose, since Miranda was coming by to shut the place down soon enough. Doesn't matter now. I just killed everything in my way and ran. Guess my biotics had developed faster than they thought. After, I got a shuttle off the ground. Drifted until a freighter picked me up. The crew used me, then sold me. That's my uplifting escape story."

"And this was Cerberus? It really was their facility?"

"It was," I confirmed. "The scientists and guards had gone rogue. Their experiments had crossed the line. They knew it was wrong. The Illusive Man ordered me to shut everything down, as Jack said."

Jack didn't believe me. "Doesn't matter if they went rogue or not. They screwed up. Turns out, mess with someone's head enough, and you can turn a scared kid into an all-powerful bitch. Fucking idiots."

I had to know, "Then what are you aiming to do?"

"I found the coordinates in those files you gave me. I want to go to the Teltin facility on Pragia, where they tortured and drugged me. I want to go to the center of the place, my cell. I want to deploy a big fucking bomb. And I want to watch from orbit when it goes. Besides, the place's been abandoned for years. No one's going to care if I blow up a garbage dump."

Looking to Liara, I still felt confused. "Fine, you're taking us with you. I understand. What I don't understand is why you wouldn't take someone like Kasumi instead. Isn't she your partner in crime?"

"I talked to Kasumi about this already. It's obvious why I'm bringing you. Plus, I wanna see what Little Liara's all about. She's a biotic, isn't she? We can have a fun little competition. Loser buys drinks the next time we're on shore leave. Or maybe the winner gets the girl in the end. Who fucking knows."

No wonder…

"Like I said," continued Shepard, "We'll be at our destination in the next hour. Miranda, make sure Liara will be ready. Get to the shuttle with Jack once it's time. I'll meet you all there."

"Understood, Commander," I accepted.

Shepard took her leave.

Never before had she been so unreadable to me. Almost like a blank slate. If I couldn't see her face, if I couldn't see her expression, then I knew nothing of her. And even that was rather suspect these days.

She was as a stranger to me, and I had nowhere else to look except inward:

Inward to this absolute wasteland of my miserable existence.

Starlit dark, the cold chill of the Normandy's shuttle—this silence nearly got to me. Liara sat next to me; Jack and Shepard sat across from us. No one said a word. No one made eye contact. No one even attempted to break this ice permeating the place. This icy awkwardness forced my skin to pebble beneath my uniform, making me long for the comforts of my bed, of Shepard's bed…and I realized once again that I hadn't even been in her cabin since before Palaven. That faraway edge lit up Shepard's gorgeous stare, her scowl reaching past the window nearest to her. Her mind appeared elsewhere, even as she remained focused on the mission. Multitasking, she managed to duplicate her talents, paying attention to this frozen silence around us, all while her eyes had sealed away her truest thoughts.

Still she remained purely unreadable.

I couldn't possibly imagine what possessed her in this moment.

All I knew…was how lost I felt without her direct guidance. Without her cues to follow. Without her expectations to fulfill. Without her explicit directions on how to behave, how to think, how to be.

Nor could I possibly tell Shepard the truth of the matter.

No doubt she would look down on me, discovering that I was not the person I'd made her believe in.

Liara seemed to sense my thoughts, gazing at me with her compassion.

If she only knew what was actually on my mind, perhaps she would refund her sympathies for me.

Jack groaned out of a sudden, "I forgot how much I hate this place." We had something of a view of the facility from here—thin streaks of rain scratched across the window as we neared Pragia's surface. "See the landing pad? Has to be on the roof, or the vegetation would overgrow it in a few hours."

EDI's voice sounded over the comms: "Shepard, I am picking up thermal signatures everywhere, except at your landing zone."

Shepard figured, "Something's distorting the sensors."

I reminded them, "Well, this was a secret Cerberus facility."

"Yeah," said Jack. "They build their equipment to last. Assholes…"

She almost wanted to question her decision to return here. Yet she held it back. Jack regarded Liara with such a vague, anonymous intensity instead, causing Liara to shift about uncomfortably in her seat. Due to that vagueness, I couldn't tell if Jack was actually angry with her, or if this was about something else.

Either way, this seemed like a lot of emotion toward Liara, whom Tali only viewed as her best friend.

Tali and Liara had their companionship, but it was nothing that should've sparked this sort of jealousy.

Jack also directed some of her ire at me. And not in an anonymous way. More directly, pointed now. I could only imagine her assumptions. Perhaps she had observed something of me. How different I may have seemed ever since Liara's return. Maybe she didn't trust these changes about me. Maybe Jack didn't know whether or not I was still the same person. The real truth was honestly too much to explain.

For the mission's sake, I chose to say nothing. Antagonizing her wouldn't have done us any good.

Arriving to the landing pad, our shuttle touched down at the facility. Abandoned, overgrown with such aggressive vegetation, this place hardly looked as I remembered it. The stubborn rainfall, the sporadic sparks of lightning, the rumbling thunder and the stark, stark rainclouds up above—such profuse memories of suffering, abuse, and death had infected the air, haunting the place. Jack hesitated before the sight, hanging back within the shuttle. Liara and I stayed closest to the opening, staring out at the Teltin facility's roof, the history everywhere—as painful and unfortunate as the whole thing was.

Undeterred, Shepard stepped out first. Drawing her sidearm, the rain pattered down over her shields in such an unusual way. Making contact once, enough to activate her defenses, blue shields glinting over the dark of her stealth suit—and then the rain seemed to avoid her, somehow, not quite reaching her.

"Jack, take point," she ordered. "We'll follow you. Do you remember your way around?"

"Yeah, I remember," said Jack, retrieving her shotgun. "Pretty hard to forget… Let's just get in there and plant the bomb in my cell. I wanna watch this place burn."

Shepard stayed just behind her.

Our own pistols drawn, Liara and I stayed on their six, apparently by default.

We followed Jack down the roof's stairs, and into the facility. The flickering light over the open doorway signaled our only entry point. Entering through, these infected memories wallowed thicker through the dark; and the echoing sounds of the rain outside worsened this feeling, as if we'd escaped into the unavoidable. Several containers lined the walls, and numerous windows fogged with dirt separated each space. Rusted tile flooring, missing pieces, gaping holes. Shrubbery growing through the ground, stubborn as ever. Only the gray of the storm lit in, lighting our way, lighting the decay all around us.

Jack narrated for us, "I never saw this room. I think they brought new kids in these containers. They were messed up and starving, but alive. Usually."

She led us through the next door, down a metallic ramp. Leaking rain from the roof had pooled to the filth of the ground below. The window just nearby opened up to a wider area, one I definitely remembered passing through all those years ago.

We found more containers just beside a security console.

The console went off with a recorded log—an old exchange between a security officer and a scientist. Those flickering holograms of their bodies glowed on-and-off, as their voices played through the room:

"The Illusive Man requested operation logs again. He's getting suspicious."

"When we get results, he won't care what we did. But if he knew…"

"He won't find out. It's Lawson I'm worried about. Miranda Lawson. She's been snooping around too much lately. She requested a tour of the facility. I'm not confident she'll be on our side."

"I have a plan for that. It's risky, but it'll pay off. No one else can know about this. No one."

As the recording began to loop, Shepard shut off the console.

I wanted to reiterate my stance—that the facility had gone rogue. I had done my job as necessary.

However, as I read the room, I knew to keep my mouth shut.

The next area, the next ramp leading downward, the next sets of containers and plants growing out from the holes in the ground—our group continued onward, following Jack, her reminiscence:

"I remember escaping to this room. Fighting here. I saw sunlight through the cracks in the ceiling. Only a half-dead guard between me and freedom. He was begging for his life."

We passed by these near-trees sprouting from the damp ground. Vines and leaves webbed along the overhead windows, over our only source of light within. The flickering, fizzling electrical lights did us no good whatsoever. As we walked around these crates and containers, Shepard was careful not to step in any puddles collecting from the rainfall. The occasional water dripping from above still failed to reach her, slipping off of her shields in that same unusual way.

Just ahead, we heard gnarled sounds of growling.

A large pack of wild varren rushed toward us.

"Damnit!" cursed Jack, about to shoot.

"Liara," said Shepard.

"On your order, Shepard," she complied.

Liara sent a singularity field at the group instead.

Detonating her primer, I threw a warp strike at the varren. Exploding far and wide, the impact ripped the enemies to shreds. Those remains fell to the ground, dissolving into biotic-blue distortions.

Jack shrugged. "Guess that works, too."

She continued ahead to a familiar-looking location, to an old blood stain on the ground.

Shepard noticed, "This looks like an arena."

"That's right. They used to stage fights here. Pit me against the other kids. I loved it. Only time I was ever let out of my cell."

Unnerved, Liara asked, "What were they studying?"

"Hell if I know," answered Jack. "Maybe that's how they got their kicks. I never understood anything that happened here."

"How often did they do this?"

"I was in a cell my whole life, Blue. Sometimes they took me out and made me fight. Filled me with drugs. Other stuff. Time gets funny in a cell."

"Did other children die in these fights?"

"I was a kid, filled with drugs. I got shocked when I hesitated. Narcotics flooded my veins when I attacked."

I recited my own knowledge: "You still get warm feelings during a fight."

Jack glanced at me, nodding in approval.

"Let's keep moving," stated Shepard.

Jack continued leading the way. "Hell, yes."

Through another door, we entered a cluttered hallway. Nearly claustrophobic from these plants reaching up and around, from the haphazard ruins of these unused crates and containers—we had to watch our step, with several fallen pieces of the roof taking up space everywhere. The worn, washed-out Cerberus logos over the walls certainly did us no favors, as I knew Shepard didn't enjoy the reminders.

Partway through this filthy area, Shepard found another security console.

She opened the log, revealing the holo-form of another security officer panicking in a hurry:

"Security Officer Zemkl, Teltin facility. The subjects are out of their cells! They're tearing the place up! Subject Zero is going to get loose. I need permission to terminate—I repeat, permission to terminate!"

Security Control responded to the request: "All subjects besides Zero are expendable. Keep Jack alive!"

"Understood. I'll begin the—"

Jack shut the console off.

"Guess he didn't know the fix was in. Someone started that riot on purpose, to keep Miranda from finding out what they were up to. Until I found that out, I always thought I was the one who started it. My guards just disappeared. They counted on me getting loose. Then the other kids attacked me. The guards attacked me. The automated systems attacked me. No one had their stories straight."

Shepard told her, "You used the chaos to your advantage and escaped. That was your best hope."

"Yeah, you're right…"

Down a narrow stairway, the fresh smell of blood accosted us. A few dead varren lay in a corner at the foot of the stairs, just recently killed. We passed by the troubling sight, through another series of hallways, thick rubble over the ground troubling our footsteps. This path took us to what appeared to be a lab, having decayed severely from my memory of the place. Within the open space lined with crates, I heard what sounded like other people—krogan stomping about, vorcha scattering around. Blood Pack?

Shepard had already pulled up her radar, those red dots outlining enemy signatures nearby.

She pulled her Widow from over her back, unfolding that massive power of her sniper rifle.

With those mercs wandering about in distraction, Shepard had the freedom to handle this her way:

Aiming at one of the vorcha, his flamethrower, the gas tank over his back—

Shepard fired her sniper rifle with perfect precision.

The tank exploded, detonating, bursting into flames. The other vorcha, the other gas tanks over their backs caught fire one after another, unavoidable. Screams of death from the vorcha, from everyone surrounding him as the fires spread around and around. The krogan nearby caught aflame, their armor burning to a crisp. Ending as cinders, the whole group fell one by one, dissolving as ashes on the ground.

Somehow, Shepard walked through the flames unscathed.

She fully stood in those fires as she bypassed the security on the next door.

Jack and Liara exchanged bewildered looks, not understanding how this was possible.

By the time the flames fell away, Shepard had finished with the door.

"Come on, let's go," she ordered, pushing onward.

Given how weak her shields were compared to ours, this really shouldn't have been possible.

We followed after Shepard regardless, knowing we wouldn't receive an explanation.

Farther through the dankness of this facility, the darkness grew and grew. Echoes from the rainfall outside sounded louder, closer, the storm growing worse. That persistent grayscale covered our surroundings, even seeming to dull the natural sunlight of Shepard's features. I felt myself staring at her more often, more than anything, as Jack fell behind in favor of allowing our leader to lead. I wanted to stop everything. I wanted to ask Shepard if we were all right. I had no reason to believe that we weren't, but I also didn't know for certain that we were. Before, I used to be able to know—with such ease. I always knew. Now I knew nothing. I could read nothing, suddenly illiterate of my own girlfriend's needs.

And I couldn't just ask Liara for guidance, as she also hadn't the faintest idea about this. About anything.

I floundered in my loss of control.

Meanwhile, Shepard quick-scoped the next Blood Pack mercs in our way, seemingly unaffected.

Liara was understandably more upset by the children's quarters we passed by—inhumane and all.

Out in this open courtyard, we walked along a set of raised walkways. Something of Jack's energy shifted as we approached a proper cell—the largest within the facility so far.

"This… It's a two-way mirror? My cell is on the other side—I could see all the other kids out here. I screamed at them for hours, and they always ignored me."

We took what looked like the long way around to reach her old cell.

Back inside, we arrived to another series of open rooms. Lab chairs with rusted neck, wrist, and ankle restraints. Lingering despair fogging everywhere.

"I must've come through here when I broke out, but I don't remember it. This is a bad place."

Shepard located another console, accessing the logs there:

"Entry 1054, Teltin facility. The latest iteration of PergNim went poorly. Subjects One, Four, and Six died. No biotic change among the survivors. We lowered core temperatures of surviving subjects, but no biotically beneficial reactions occurred. As a side-effect, all subjects died. So we'll not try that on Zero. I hope our supply of biotic-potential subjects holds up. We are going through them fast."

Jack remembered that I'd mentioned this to her, as we went over the latest Cerberus files.

Still frustrated, she vented, "Fucking bullshit that they did this. Experimenting on the other children for my safety. No wonder they hated my guts!"

Shepard counseled, "You can't help what they did to others."

"You don't get it, Shepard. Until Miranda told me the truth, I had my own views. I thought I survived this place because I was tougher than the rest. That's who I am—or it's who I was, anyway. I don't know…"

"You move on. Harder and tougher."

Jack accepted her wisdom.

Shepard found yet another console nearby.

"It's all fallen to pieces. The subjects are rampaging, and Zero is loose. We're shutting Teltin down. What a disaster. We'll infiltrate and piggyback onto the Alliance's Ascension program. Hopefully that will—who are…? Zero, wait!"

I had already taken care of that problem.

Jack knew as much. Liara could assume the rest, if she didn't know already.

"We're getting close to my cell. The place I came from. Let's keep going."

"Hold on," said Shepard, checking her radar. "There are more mercs waiting for us past this door. Think they know we took care of their friends back there. Don't wait for them to react to us. Take them out."

This time, she gestured for me to head through first.

Weapons at the ready, everyone followed me into the next room.

Shepard kicked off the party appropriately, sniping at another flamethrower's gas tank.

Worsening the heat, Jack and Liara joined me in sending a flurry of biotic attacks at the Blood Pack mercs. Assaulting them with this ambush, they didn't stand a chance. There was some unarmed human among their ranks. He made a mad dash for Jack's proper cell, seeking safety. Jack shot him in the back. He fell to the ground, bleeding out there. We could only assume he was in-line with the Blood Pack, whatever they were doing here. But they were all gone now. No point wondering about the whole thing.

Jack walked past the man's corpse, leading us to her cell.

A short hallway, bloodstained walls, Cerberus logos—and then the moderate room looking out to the two-way mirror we had passed by earlier. The shine from that false light glossed over the tiles, giving the illusion of goodness peeking through this horrid space. Liara wandered over to that light, starting out at it.

Jack notably showed little reaction to being here again.

I figured she would have wanted to plant the bomb and get it over with. She had other plans in mind.

"This room was my whole childhood. Give me a minute to look around."

"Go ahead," allowed Shepard.

"Nothing's changed…but it's all different."

Jack went over to the partly-broken table in the corner, smoothing her hand along the surface.

"I used this table for everything. It was like my best friend. I'd crawl under it to cry. I was pathetic."

The standard-issue bed remained nearest the window, the blue sheets and blanket perfectly-made.

"Sometimes I dream that I'm back in this bed being tortured. I used to tie the sheets around my wrists and try to rip them off. I want to stop coming back here."

Jack and Shepard joined Liara at the two-way mirror.

"I thought that room out there was the rest of the world. I'd pound and yell. Never did any good."

We followed Jack to the old blood stain on the wall, just below one of the Cerberus logos.

"See the scarring on the wall here? That's where I killed my first man. One of the guards tried to stop me. Instead, I stopped him."

As she reminisced on the past, Jack took particular note of that logo on the surface.

She then looked to me, speaking her mind:

"So, Miranda… After seeing all this shit again, tell me the truth. The real truth. This is what Cerberus gets up to, isn't it? It's not just some rogue thing. The Illusive Man lied to you. Can you seriously admit that?"

"That's nonsense, Jack," I replied, immediately. "I've told you time and time again—the Illusive Man wouldn't allow this. It was my job to specifically shut down these types of operations. Cerberus isn't a terrorist organization. We put in the hard work to find the solutions to humanity's worst problems. We go where other groups refuse to venture. But this isn't us. These people went rogue. End of story."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"No, I'm not. Do I look like I'm joking?"

Jack snarled at me, "Are you that far up your boss' ass? Cerberus is a bunch of terrorists! What they did to me was wrong! Did you forget what I almost did to you when we first met on Purgatory? Or was that just some fever dream I had?! I was ready to kill you just because of that stupid logo on your chest!"

"We aren't terrorists. That's a ridiculous lie perpetuated by the media—"

"Will you cut the crap? Can you hear yourself right now? Because you know what you sound like?! Like you're indoctrinated! The Illusive Man indoctrinated you with all his fucking propaganda!"

"Only an idiot would believe actual propaganda. I shouldn't have to remind you I'm nothing of the sort."

"Oh, is that it?" asked Jack, incredulous. "Just 'cause you went to school, got all your fancy degrees, you think you're smarter than me? I'm not stupid by choice, Miranda! I was stuck here my whole life until I was fourteen! No school, no opportunities, nothing! Just tortured over and over again! Then when I got out, I made it on my own! But I'm still smart enough to know when someone's trying to screw me over!"

I rolled my eyes. "Now you're putting words in my mouth. I never said you were stupid. Listen carefully when I speak. You could learn a thing or two—such as the obvious reality that this was a rogue facility—"

"Bullshit! You're brainwashed! Your boss brainwashed you into his Cerberus cheerleader! He's using you! You don't wanna wake up and see the truth—admit you were wrong all these years! Why's it so hard to see what's right in front of you? What Cerberus turned me into—that's who they are! That's who you are! Just because you don't wanna see it, that doesn't mean it's some ridiculous lie…"

"It wasn't Cerberus. Not really. But clearly you were a mistake."

Enraged, Jack glared absolute death into my eyes, her biotics activating.

Somewhere in her glare, I realized…I shouldn't have said that. Jack was my friend. Or at least, she was supposed to be. We were supposed to have this mandated friendship for the sake of the mission. I couldn't fail in my duties. As her superior officer. And so I stepped over to her, trying to reach out.

Some errant wreckage, Jack pulled toward her, winding up, aiming at me.

I couldn't even react in time—

"Touch me and I will smear the walls with you, bitch!"

Liara jumped in with her biotics, deflecting the wreckage from hitting me, possibly destroying me.

"Jack, stop this!" cried Liara. She looked to Shepard leaning against the wall with her arms folded, completely disaffected. "Shepard, why are you just standing there? Why are you not reacting?"

Jack almost laughed, cynical. "Because she knows I'm right, that's why! You wanna talk who's smart and who's not? Nothing gets past her. Nothing! Shepard knows the truth. She sees the same things I do. Maybe she's tired of putting up with her girlfriend's shit! Ever thought of that, Blue? Fuck, you and Miranda are pretty much exactly the same. Always thinking you know better… Pisses me off."

Disarmed by the accusations, Liara had no choice but to stand down.

I appreciated her sticking up for me, but still…

Never before had I seen this thousand-lightyear stare in Shepard's eyes. The grayscale from this facility had thoroughly dulled her colors, the shine of her skin even dimming in-tandem. I knew what she wanted me to do. I knew what she wanted me to say. But I would not, could not denounce the man and the organization that had saved my life decades ago, and continued protecting my sister to this day. Just as she would never turn on the Alliance, on Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson, never would I have reason to do the same with Cerberus, with the Illusive Man. And I knew if I told her this, she would feel it was a false equivalence. There was no winning with her, or with Jack…and so I chose to stay quiet.

"Fuck it," growled Jack. "I'm done arguing with this damn robot. I'm planting the goddamned bomb right here, right now. Let's blow this place to hell." Before retrieving the bomb, she pointed right at me. Not as a threat…but in a purely angered disillusionment. "You… You're that girl I knew you were."

That she saw straight past my veneer—Jack disarmed me, too.

Arming the bomb, she appeared not to care anymore. Leaving her emotions behind with those words, with her observations, Jack wanted nothing more to do with me. She would blow up this facility and blow up our friendship, all at the same time.

Because once we returned to the shuttle, I saw those intentions in Jack's eyes. Sitting across from me again, sitting next to Shepard again, she had found her resolve. The chop and rumbling from the speed at which the shuttle tore through the skies and away from the Teltin facility—Jack somehow remained still. She bore her eyes through mine. She held this fear in my gaze, toying with the bomb's detonator in her hand. She alternated between looking at me, looking at Liara at my side, the both of us the same. Those stark shadows running across her hand, the tattoos over her five fingers spelling out DEATH…

Shepard rammed her fist against the wall, needing our shuttle pilot to get a move-on already.

Jack detonated the bomb, that all-encompassing heat blasting outward, cutting at our tail.

The sudden movement again caught me unawares. I was about to fall out of my seat—until Shepard moved forward, holding me still from the blast. Having her this close to me again, basking in her touch, her instinctive protectiveness, despite everything…it meant so much. Shepard knew it, yet she chose not to share the same. She merely returned to her seat, avoiding my eyes for the remainder of the ride.

As the Teltin facility was no more, I had to face this new reality, interpersonally:

If Jack could have murdered me before Shepard's eyes and gotten away with it, she absolutely would.

Back on the Normandy, I felt toxic. Radioactive. As if I could poison anyone around me for no reason.

Jack couldn't have gotten away from me any sooner. She immediately left for the elevator.

Liara had no idea what to do. She only understood that I needed some time to myself, to think things through. And so she was kind enough to retreat elsewhere, giving me this space for right now.

Stuck down in this cargo hold with me, Shepard stayed by my side.

For how long, I couldn't know.

I knew she wanted things to work out between us.

And I knew she still loved me.

But there was just this…problem. This tiny issue that had exploded today—seemingly all of a sudden.

Or maybe it had always been with us, and I'd been too blind to see it until now.

"Shepard, listen," I began, trying to make her see me. "I understand that this is a problem. This—all of this." I glanced around at the Cerberus equipment, the Cerberus cargo, the Cerberus everything everywhere. "It shouldn't come as a surprise to me… After all, this was why I'd chosen not to contact you before. Why I never chased after you on my own. I knew you wouldn't approve of Cerberus, of the people I choose to associate myself with. But as far as I can tell, this wasn't an issue when we started dating. When you asked me to be with you. Why has it turned into a problem now? What changed?"

"Nothing's changed at all. You must not remember what I said."

"I apologize if my memory is a bit hazy at the moment… It's been a long day. Could you refresh my memory?"

Veins over her forehead practically bulging in irritation, Shepard forced herself to oblige:

"Check our chat room. Do a search for when I said the words: No one except me."

Sporting a headache of my own, throbbing, pulsing, I heeded her request.

And I found this reminder slapping me across the face.

From when we were on Illium together, just hours before we recruited Samara.

From that argument we'd had over chat, where Shepard had caught me in a lie and I still—

[15:58:12] Shepard: The way the Illusive Man influenced you. No one should have enough power to do that. No one except me. Especially not him, or your father. Not anyone. I won't tolerate it.

[15:58:45] Me: Understood. You're perfectly clear.

[15:59:13] Shepard: Why are you going along with this? Why aren't you fighting against me?

[15:59:36] Me: Your sense of justice is sound. I'd never fight against that.

[16:00:12] Shepard: That can't be the only reason.

[16:00:27] Me: You own me. I belong to you. I am your property. I need to be worthy of you.

[16:00:58] Shepard: Are you just saying that to placate me?

[16:01:10] Me: Absolutely not. I mean every word of it.

[16:01:20] Shepard: I believe you.

Reading the reflection of those words in my eyes, Shepard stated, "I don't believe you anymore."

Quietly, privately, I knew…she had every right not to believe me.

Back then, I remembered—scrambling to please her. Hurrying to mirror her, to meet her expectations. Rushing to mold myself around what she required, what she wanted. All in such a sickening desperation.

I felt that desperation no more. Because everything I had said to Jack back on Pragia: I had spoken with my convictions. I believed in what I believed, unequivocally so. No one could tell me otherwise. Shepard knew that. One hundred percent. I saw it in the way she stared at me, finding a liar looking back at her.

And I knew how much she couldn't tolerate lying of any sort.

She refused.

"I've caught you in something, Miranda. Again. Haven't I?"

Exposed now, I fought to remain steady. "So it would seem…"

"Since you won't change, we need a resolution. Tell me where we go from here."

We are who we are. People don't change.

Shepard's cynicism soured me to the core, rotting my heart.

My cold, empty heart without her.

Very nearly the absolute last thing I wanted to speak aloud: "Shepard, if you need some space away from me, then I understand. It's clear this is why you've been elsewhere these past couple of weeks. You were avoiding me…and I had no idea. This issue will never go away for us—because I fundamentally disagree with everything Jack said earlier. I accept that you agree with her. I accept that I've lied to you, by accident or otherwise. I apparently can't change who I am…not even for you. I'm sorry. I truly am."

"That's it, then," she deadpanned. "You're just letting me go to do whatever. You're not even putting up a fight. You're not interested in trying anymore. Is that what you're telling me?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know how to try. Not in this situation… I can't give you what you want right now."

"And just what the fuck do you think I want from you?!"

I flinched at her understandable rage, barely-veiled. "You want me to center my life around you. You want me to break away from my decades-long allegiances—to put you first. You want me to mirror your every desire. I see now that I tried to do this. I tried and tried before. But all I've done is wrap myself in lies, as you've pointed out to me. If you think about it, this would've come about at some point in the future. Inevitably. It almost feels like we've accelerated toward that outcome. This was unavoidable."

Shepard glared at me with such a furious heat;

At the same time, all the color drained from her face, down to her neck.

Maybe she didn't actually want those things. Either way, surely she had seen this coming already.

"Shepard, obviously we'll have to repair things at some point. Enough for the mission. And for what we still have together. I'm only asking that we take a break. I promise I will think things over: your point of view, how you feel about Cerberus, about how I've been lying to you. I don't want to hurt you any more. I don't want to disappoint you further. I need to figure this out. I need to stop repeating my mistakes."

She could have hurled any number of curses at me, all in her frustration.

She could have scorned me, warned me I would only regret this…because I most certainly would.

But the fact remained—Shepard was in love with me. She could find her patience for us. She would.

Yet I would never know what was on her mind. I couldn't sense her, couldn't read her anymore. That absence, that lack had fueled my decisions just now. Because normally I would just…do what she wanted, as I wanted, as we both wanted, in our obsessions with one another, in those passions we shared for each other. Shepard probably thought me passionless in this moment. Too logical. But I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to give her what she wanted. I didn't know how to mold myself into the woman she needed. I had at last faced myself and found a complete fraud living in my skin.

Instead of telling her that…I chose this path instead.

Instead of unravelling all of my lies, exposing myself any further than I had already…I did this to her.

So it was no wonder Shepard spoke nothing at all, leaving me standing here without a word.

Hiding my lies with more lies.

I would have to confess the truth to Shepard eventually. Unless she already knew…and she still loved me regardless. But she had to know by now how dangerous that was. I could not stand to keep hurting her.

It felt appropriate to go and speak to the Illusive Man now, reaffirming my fraudulent nature. Thus I made my way to the comm room. Debriefing after Pragia seemed like the best option. Focusing on the mission, on our other priorities. This was really all I had left. I had brought this on myself. I understood.

When I reached the comm room, I called my boss.

He answered straightaway.

Just like always.

The Illusive Man brought me back to this space of his, of his office, my own home away from home.

I could have grown emotional—if I wasn't absolutely certain of my choice. I knew that this state with Shepard was only temporary. It was the most logical thing to do. The most sensible choice to make.

I could take this time and improve. Gather the courage to fully come clean to her. And then we would return to our proper relationship. Without the lies, the fraud, the deception. Completely committed.

Nonetheless, the Illusive Man stared at me with a rare sort of emotion in his face.

No cigarette in-hand, no glass of bourbon or other alcohol.

That eerie blue glow of his eyes had dimmed a bit. He seemed rather incredulous to see me like this.

So normal.

"Sir, you're staring," I pointed out. "Is there something wrong?"

He didn't seem interested in debriefing after Pragia.

He knew what I had just done with Shepard; he likely understood my thought process already.

Instead he made such a strange inquiry—"Miranda. Do you have any positive memories of your father?"

"My father? Not really…" Then I remembered: "Well, there were some things. He would take me to the theater from time to time. Performing arts shows. The Sydney Opera House in particular, near the gorgeous harbor there. We both appreciated art. But I can't say there was anything more than that. The vast majority of my memories with him are negative. Why do you ask? Seems rather bizarre."

"I never got the full story before. About why you decided to run away from home all those years ago."

I waved my hand at the thought. "It was nothing concrete. Only a feeling I had, starting from my childhood. I don't have any actual evidence to back up my claims. And I'd rather not talk about it at all."

The Illusive Man hummed in a grave sort of worry.

"That reminds me. I haven't heard from him. My father hasn't contacted me in a while. Perhaps he's decided to leave this whole thing be. I hope he does. I'd much rather move on. Leave him in the past."

"Yes, that would probably be best. If that's how you feel."

I couldn't help noticing—"You know, something seems off about you. Strange. Very strange. Are you all right, Sir?"

"It's not important," he claimed. "We recently lost an asset to the Council. He got sloppy, let his honor get the best of him. This won't affect our operations. You needn't worry about it."

"Understood," I accepted, with such ease. Automatic. Unquestionable.

And that was my problem, wasn't it?

The one thing preventing Shepard from having her happily-ever-after with me.

I wanted to change for her. If I could do it on the spot, then I would've done it already.

We just needed time.

I needed time to come to grips with myself. With what I believed. With this possible…propaganda.

"What about the Collectors?" I asked. "Do you have anything for us?"

"Yes, actually," said the Illusive Man. "You'll have to prepare the team for the next mission. It's coming up quite soon. This will be a rare chance for us to examine Collector technology up-close. I expect you to find critical information on how the Collectors safely pass through the Omega 4 Relay to their homeworld. I have my theories, but we need confirmation. We'll only have one shot at this."

"Of course. We'll be ready once it's time. Is there anything else?"

"Not at the moment. For now, there are a few other issues I'm looking into. These are all urgent matters, so I'll need to get going. But I appreciate your call."

"That's fine. I'm glad we were able to touch base. Thank you for sparing a few minutes of your time."

"Miranda, there is one final thing," he warned. "Do take care to avoid self-sabotaging. Take it from me—you'll only live to regret it."

"Understood, Sir…"

In reality, the Illusive Man appeared to have more to say.

Much, much more to say. To explain. To detail.

Yet he chose his secrecy above all.

He ended the call, dissolving me back to the comm room.

Unraveling as I was already, I needed to do this right. I couldn't keep making any missteps. I couldn't keep fucking up, making these goddamned mistakes. Living my truth with Shepard would forever bring me this painful fear. This wracking fear, this existential fear. How many years had I spent building up this armor? How much effort had I put into locking away my insecurities and self-doubt? How much time had I spent freezing my flaws behind this ice of mine, hiding myself away, even from the woman I loved?

Without a doubt, Shepard didn't deserve these continued lies from me. No longer, no more.

Nearly four decades I had spent cultivating my perfect image—only for that visage to shatter in a single day.

I should've gone to her. I should have allowed myself to be fragile with her. I should have let her see me for me, for once in my life.

Instead, I returned to my room alone.

Instead, I dealt with this shattering in the only way I could:

Sitting with myself, past my veneer. Looking at her for the first time. And I despised the woman I saw.

There was no way in hell I could ever allow Shepard to meet her.