"Adam's Apartment" from Deus Ex: Mankind Divided

LVIII. Insomnia – Sovereignty

(Shepard)

Back in the virtual reality of Insomnia's brooding city, a broken, blood red sky stared down at me. Standing just outside HQ in my suit, I stared back up at the sky, discerning. Ruptures and fragments tore at the crimson, breaking like glass. That hard roughness took up space where the night clouds should have been. Unnatural, that whole expanse looked like a purposeful error, broken for reasons beyond my comprehension. But other than the sky, the city looked perfectly fine…even though no one else was around. No people out and about, no cars in the streets, no public transportation coming and going.

Though my car was here. The ground car version of my skycar from home—chocolate brown luxury.

I walked over to my car, scorning the suit I still had on. Miranda had gotten this for me, after all. I decided I didn't want or need it anymore. I'd have to change out of this when I could. Just not until I had a better idea of what was going on. Focused on finding answers, I automatically went to the back seat. I was about to open the door, assuming I would have my mysterious chauffeur driving me again. But for some reason, I didn't feel them in the driver's seat. I didn't feel their presence this time. Not like before.

As I observed the driver's side door, trying to get a better look inside—

I spotted something in the window's reflection. Something shaped in the pitch black from the tinting. Something behind.

Behind me in the far distance: I turned around, finding the giant size of a capital-class Reaper ship. Automatic panic, I expected the Reaper to tear through the city. I expected that to be the infection. But instead, the Reaper just…stood there. As familiar as that ship felt, I might've seen it before.

Was that Sovereign?

If it was just standing around, then I assumed it wasn't a threat right now. I hoped it wasn't.

So I opened the door to my car instead. As soon as I sat down in the driver's seat, I noticed—the navigation system seemed off. Like someone had repaired it recently, along with the rest of the car. I guessed whoever drove my car before had tampered with the system. But why? Checking it for myself, I found that it pointed me to Liara's home location on the Flotilla this time. It definitely hadn't shown that before. Whoever messed with this thing, though, had also removed something else. Another location:

The core of Insomnia. The source. The power, the place that made this game thrive so close to reality.

Legion had said there was something I needed to resolve in the core, to fix the game. But it also looked like I could go to the core now. I could interact with the infection directly from there. Starting up the car, I made the navigation system point me toward this core—whatever it was, wherever it was. And as I drove down the street, headed for the highway, the system took me in Sovereign's direction. Yet the core itself seemed a little removed from Sovereign's direct location there on the map. Just nearby.

Interstate highways twined through the city—barren and desolate. Still not a soul on the road as I drove along by myself. These roads of sand wound across Insomnia's seas. Drivable shores as bridges, lanes, interstates intertwining this metropolis as one. The ocean reflected the broken red skies up above, vermillion shores as my only companions, left and right past my windshield, past my tinted windows.

All the while, Sovereign's form grew closer and closer as I went. Just as the faraway skyscrapers raised in size as I drove, crossing horizons, that Reaper ship did the same. The closer I arrived, the more familiar that ship felt to me. The more convinced I became that it really was Sovereign, standing out in the open.

It had yet to move from its spot right near Insomnia's core.

It shifted idly on occasion—swaying its tall, sharp, pointed 'head.' So it wasn't inactive or anything.

Once I exited the highway, inevitably approaching Sovereign's form, I took a look around.

These buildings. This police station. The monorail station across the way. The Pantheon-like bank. The liquor store and the Mexican restaurants. The bright, shining ads and billboards as gold. The dark, brooding buildings as black chrome, filtering out that same, pure gold as light from the windows. And that same everlasting light everywhere around me, filling me with this nostalgic sense of belonging.

Without a doubt, this slice of Insomnia held the golden-hued district of my hometown at night.

Home.

My apartment complex from San Diego had to be just down the street.

I drove up to the Reaper, its massive size rising way higher than my windshield's view allowed.

As white as my knuckles were, gripping my steering wheel, I warded off most of my concerns. The worst I had to fear was a possible game over. I could just re-enter Insomnia, then find some other way around in that case. I had time. But I didn't get the sense I would need to do that. Not with the Reaper this still.

Stopping my car close enough, I stepped out onto the empty street.

Empty of people; not at all empty of this imposing entity taking up so much space.

I stared up at the Reaper, asking, "Sovereign?"

That deep, booming, earth-shaking, superior voice I remembered from Virmire, from the Citadel:

"Human," confirmed Sovereign. "You may proceed…Shepard."

Beyond surreal, I got back in my car. And I drove in the direction of my apartment building. In that direction, I had to drive around and between Sovereign's massive arachnid legs clawed over the street. Shadowing me beneath its form, it could have taken a step at any moment, crushing me in my car. It could have activated its powerful laser right from its own core up above my head. But Sovereign chose not to. It just kept looking on without eyes, still as a monument as I drove ahead—not too far away.

Apparently, Sovereign's presence wasn't the infection Legion had told me about.

No…it had to be something else. Something at the core in my apartment itself.

At the underground parking entrance, I saw someone heading into the lobby, through the front doors.

That someone in her N7 armor—

I stopped the car, tires screeching to a halt on the asphalt.

She had stopped halfway through the doors, having stopped to look at me now.

She had on that red and black armor, having made N7 Soldier just before everything went down.

She had her hair down like she'd had it before, just past her shoulders.

And Ashley smiled at me. She looked perfectly normal. She waved to me, practically beaming. Genuinely glad to see me. Not a speck of spite there in her loving eyes—so warm as that dark brown, as beautiful as I remembered. But she didn't want me to get out of the car. Ashley pointed inside the lobby, then up, as if to say she would see me upstairs. Then she headed inside the building. As if she'd expected all this.

As I drove underground, finding my designated parking space, I could hardly think straight.

Spending time with Aria lately in Ashley's old room…I had felt her there with us. Her ghost, or—something. I of course still had Ash's letter to me in my pocket. The one she'd written to me from the last time I was here. Warning me of that trap. That obvious trap with Cerberus—the one I hadn't wanted to see, hadn't allowed myself to see. Ashley had chosen to help me. Ashley had pointed out the rest, helping me see the painful truth about the people around me. The people that were supposed to be the most loyal. That whole thing had led me to where I was now. This constant state: barely warding off my disappointments, my cynicism with people, as jaded as I wanted to be. As exhausted as I no doubt was.

Heading up the main elevator to the 34th floor, I considered.

I considered how tired I felt, deep down. Just how close I was to reverting back. Going back to how I was before: distrusting everyone, keeping my utmost distance, never letting anyone close. All because I feared this exact situation I was in. Things could've gotten worse. I could've been stuck with Miranda, stuck in that constant loop of arguing with her, beating my head against the wall of her stubborn insistence about her world, those lies, those deceptions and brainwashing. I could have been trapped in a constant cycle of needing her to change, hoping she would, waiting and trying and failing and failing.

The Illusive Man would've gotten his way. Indoctrinated as he was.

Ashley had saved me from that. Aria's unconscious self, too. They woke me up to the undeniable truth.

So I wanted to believe I could trust them both equally. I wanted to believe the past was in the past now.

But somehow, I didn't really think that would turn out to be true. Not with both of them.

The freshly-steamed carpet further masked my footsteps down this hallway.

These other doors, these other apartments. All locked. Not a single sound coming from within.

I wondered if I still had neighbors here in Insomnia. Or if I had the apartment complex all to myself. I hadn't seen any other cars down in the underground parking lot. So maybe I did actually live here alone.

Apartment 3434. Insomnia's core.

The door unlocked for me automatically.

The calming voice of my VI greeted me like always: "Welcome home, Commander Shepard."

The near-midnight sun of my home's décor pulled me right in. These pleasing chocolate browns of the woods, the smoother darks of the chrome stairs down to the living area. The spotless kitchen right by the entrance. This everlasting light beaming in from outside, replacing any regular lights this late at night. The tall windows, with the blinds open to the rest of Insomnia—and the bizarre sight of Sovereign just outside, still hanging out there like it was no big deal. And the faint sounds of the television currently on, along with the distinct sense of someone else's presence. Someone there on the couch.

Not Ashley.

Someone else lay there just out of my view.

Stepping closer, I saw my formal Alliance uniform, folded around the back of the couch. The shoes I always wore with my uniform were there, too. Both there as if removed after a long day, a long week. Possibly much longer than that. In their exhaustion, the person there watched television. They had it on a nature documentary about tigers in the wild. Those powerful predators with such massive muscles rippling beneath their beautiful striped coats. The screen currently showed one of the big cats—a mother tiger approaching her young cub. She used her strong jaw and giant, sharp teeth to gently pick up her little one by the scruff of its neck. The mother then took her cub elsewhere, probably back home.

I smiled over the sight, reminded of Aria with her daughter. The resemblance seemed uncanny to me.

I had a feeling the person on the couch saw the same.

Lying there on the couch, nestled beneath the violet blanket, her head resting over a pillow:

I found myself as 'the captain'—my unconscious self, here at home as normal. Watching television.

She said nothing as I went to sit on the nearby chair, next to the table displaying all my old sniper rifles.

She just stared at the vid screen. Exhausted, she nearly sank into the couch, into her insulated comfort there. Such a weight pushed at her, pushing and pushing. Pulling her all the way down. Tired. Tired and done. Sick of everything. Sick of people. Sick of trying. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

The apartment VI made a few announcements. Ignored emails. Missed calls. From Tali's unconscious self. From Miranda's unconscious self. From Liara as herself as she slept in real-time aboard the Normandy, dreaming all of this as real. Nothing from Aria's unconscious self, though. I wondered why.

It looked to me like this was the infection at Insomnia's core.

The captain's jaded lethargy. Her unwillingness to keep trying, to keep caring.

That should have been me.

"Thanks for listening to me," said the captain, still staring at the TV. "About Thane. He showed his ass."

The living, breathing embodiment of my instincts.

"It was hard not to listen," I responded. "You were really clear about him from day one. I appreciate it."

"Mm-hmm."

Another message from the VI. This time about another missed call from Miranda's unconscious self.

The captain snuggled farther beneath her blanket fort. "She keeps calling the most. I'm over it."

"You don't want to be bothered, I know."

"This is gonna turn into a problem," she warned. "For you in real life. We handled Thane the way we needed to. But Miranda got the wrong message from that whole situation. She's fucking delusional."

"All we can do is move forward. I'll deal with Miranda as best as I can. I just want her to be okay."

"Yeah…"

"What about Tali and Liara?" I asked.

"Forgiveness, forgiveness," sneered the captain. "You know what I'm sick of? Giving people chances. Putting up with their bullshit. Tolerating people being people. Thane was just the final nail in the coffin."

"Why do you think we've struggled with this? Accepting people as they are. Trying to fully love them."

"It's because that gives the person a lot of power over us. That's never a good thing. It's the main reason why it seems so easy to fall out of love. We might still have feelings for the person. But if the acceptance isn't there, then there's no real love. The hardest thing is just finding someone we can accept like that."

"And Aria?"

The captain spoke with such a weary weight—"I'm afraid of her being last. If we can't accept her; if we can't love her, then there's no hope. Period. We'll probably end up retreating forever. Stop caring about people altogether. Give up. That's exactly what our enemies want us to do. But by that point, it would be unavoidable. Doesn't help that I haven't been able to get in touch with Aria's unconscious self."

I worried, "Why not? What's going on with her?"

"You have an idea already from real life. Aria's emotionally disconnected from us. Pushing us away. She can't seem to accept that this is the real thing. She's afraid that we won't end up accepting her after all. I can't really blame her. Aria's fears haven't gone over well with whatever Miranda sabotaged at HQ."

"What exactly is the infection Legion talked about? Is it how jaded you are with everyone? Or is it Aria?"

"I'll get over how jaded I am," promised the captain. "The main thing is definitely Aria. You know what she represents. You and I live to serve. We need to serve her. The way she's claiming us is just dark enough without going overboard. Aria is so fucking competent, it's sexy. We trust her judgment. We trust the way she needs us to dominate her—to completely turn her power around, make her feel helpless. I can see the beginning of her reasons. The reasons for her fetishes, the psychology behind them. But you and I can't fulfill her. We can't satisfy her. Not while she insists on running away from us."

"Do you think Aria will keep running forever?" I asked.

"Not forever. This does feel—temporary. When we first met Aria on Omega, we saw her potential. Those reasons; her psychology. You might not have seen everything directly. I managed to see what we needed through her eyes. For the longest, I purposely didn't let our feelings for her come to the surface. I kept them secret. I wasn't sure if Aria would change back then. Hoping for someone to change is just pointless. They have to do it on their own, otherwise it won't happen. She's making that progress now."

"Sounds to me like Aria's current fears are growing pains."

The captain agreed, "Pretty much. If we could help her somehow…that would help me get back on my feet. I'd get out of this slump."

"Then how can we help?"

"Talk to Sovereign first," said the captain. "It's been watching us for a long time. When we disabled it during the Battle at the Citadel, remember we pulled at that mechanism through the backdoor entrance. That created a connection between us and Sovereign. That connection somehow made Insomnia manifest like this. Liara created the idea of this place. The Reapers made this world more real. Sovereign seems impressed by what we're doing here. So it should provide a solution for us—at least for our immediate problem. As for the rest—the big picture issues—we'll have to rely on Ashley's help."

I needed to know, "What's your feeling with her? What's your assessment? What is she to us now?"

"A necessary evil."

Somehow that didn't surprise me.

"Where is she?" I wondered, looking around. "Is she in our room?"

"Ashley isn't allowed in there anymore. Figuratively speaking. She's in the guest bedroom instead."

"I'll go talk to her, then."

The captain nodded in approval, going back to watching her tiger documentary.

I made my way to the guest room. As soon as the door slid open, I found Ashley inside, facing the desk. She poured two glasses of moscato—one for me, one for her. Ash had set out a bowl of freshly-cut strawberries. But she had also turned around the pictures on my desk. The one with Liara and me; the one with Tali and me. Ashley hadn't outright turned them face-down again, or thrown them out, so that seemed…considerate of her. She turned around in her consideration, smiling warmly for a moment.

"Hey, Skipper… It's been a while, huh?"

Just hearing her voice again brought me back.

Hearing her call me Skipper again felt right.

Lingering, locked away—my long-forgotten love for her brimmed from the deepest corners of my heart.

Not in love. A permeating nostalgia. Nostalgia for old times. My loyal soldier. My second-in-command.

"Ash…"

But I remembered the captain's warning about her. I remembered the past, everything.

Besides, that moment of her smile had already passed. Ashley glanced down at my suit. She looked over this style, this statement. Miranda's fashionable claim over me. The frown that formed over Ashley's face: an absolute hatred. Disgust. Wrath. Contained only because she knew it was me. She couldn't stand looking at this suit anyway. These reminders told me everything I needed to know about her state of mind.

Without a word from her, I went over to the holo-closet. I changed out of this suit and into another one. The all-black one I wore on Bekenstein, during that surreal encounter with Aria at Donovan Hock's party. And from our first date, too. Aria seemed to like it. She liked my new, smooth cologne from real life, too. I changed my cologne to match. Then I set the whole outfit and scent as my new default for Insomnia.

Ashley approached me. She stared up at me, almost uncertain what to do now. She'd been prepared earlier. Obviously banking on meeting me here. But the reality seemed to unnerve her. So I pulled her close to me. I held Ashley in my arms, knowing she wasn't the same. I embraced this armor of her—literal and otherwise—this red and black of her, these emotions of her. Fully, the reality of this moment bore down on her, inspiring Ashley to bury her face against my shoulder. She gripped at me, trying to stop herself from trembling too much in my hold. I felt that warm moisture against my shoulder, spreading out from the source of her eyes wide-shut. I felt our memories stirring these sentiments in her. I felt everything that broke her down, quietly—the same everything driving her determination.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Didn't mean to get all emotional… I told myself I wouldn't."

"You're not the only one."

Ashley saw the traces of tears in my own eyes and smiled.

"You're so sweet, Shepard," she praised. "Let's have a drink, okay? Let's talk. You should sit down."

I took this seat at my desk, eating the strawberries. Chilled; freshly-washed. Sweeter than sweet. Ashley took her glass of moscato, sitting at the foot of the bed just nearby. She sipped her white wine—the same one we would always share together back in the day. She kept looking at me. Expectant. Almost like a child. Waiting for me to speak. Waiting for me to ask her something, playing twenty questions.

So I asked the obvious: "What are you doing?"

Furtive, she averted her eyes. "I can't answer that."

I frowned in annoyance. "Not off to a good start, Ash."

"I know… I'm sorry. But I just can't. I'd rather be upfront like this than lie to you. I learned my lesson."

"Did you, really?"

Ashley laughed softly. "Why do you say it like that? You sound like you don't believe me."

I didn't know what to believe anymore. Not with her.

"I understand. Why don't you ask me something else? Something easier this time."

The first thing that came to mind: "Were you the one driving my car before? The first time I came here."

"Yeah, it was me."

"Why all the mystery?" I questioned. "Why didn't you just let me see you?"

"I don't think you were ready yet. Besides, your ex was with you. You-know-who. Don't make me say it."

"Then you're the one who screwed up my navigation system. You kept me from finding Liara before."

Ashley sounded strangely amused. "Yep, that was me, too. Didn't want you to find her right away. Sounds petty, I know. I mostly didn't want your ex finding out about this place. Where we're at now. Liara made Insomnia, so the core is technically her location, too. I couldn't disable one place without disabling the other. I knew you'd figure everything out eventually, though. So I'd say it all worked out."

"I'm guessing I can't bring you back with me. Like I did with Liara not that long ago."

"No…you can't." Ash moved her left arm around. "I don't have my omni-tool anymore. Haven't had it since I got here. If I had one, we could just quit the game together and go. But even if that was possible, I wouldn't want to. I still can't face the rest of the team. They still hate me. Except for James, I guess…"

"How do you know that? How are you still in-the-loop with everyone, with what's going on?"

"Because of Major," she explained. "She's my pup. Remember she works at the hospital at that Alliance base where Kaidan is? Major has a little doggy cam on her red cross harness. That's how I listen in on the executives. Mostly Kaidan whenever he communicates with them from his room. They talk all the time."

"Oh… Why you'd get a German shepherd? Why that breed?"

"They're military dogs. Police dogs. Reminded me of you. I couldn't name her Commander, so I picked another rank instead. Major. She's my only friend. She takes care of me. We look out for each other."

No wonder Major knew me. She'd probably met the captain before, understanding we were the same.

"Sorry she's not here tonight," shared Ashley. "I'm busy training her with something."

"Training her with what?" I wondered.

"Major needs to recognize Aria's scent as a neutral one. She's taking a while to warm up to her. It's not Aria's fault or anything. My dog's just not used to meeting new people. She's still stuck on everyone who was at HQ years ago. Including the time while you were dead. Everyone after that…we're getting there."

There seemed to be much more to this story.

If Ashley wanted Major to warm up to Aria, she wouldn't need to recognize her scent as a neutral one.

But I chose not to push the issue.

"Well, about other people," I said instead. "Major seems to be friends with Liara. What's up with that?"

Ashley didn't quite meet my eyes again. "You mean how I can't stand her? But my dog likes her?"

"What else could I mean?"

"This whole thing started back then," she replied, gesturing to the space around us. "When we joined the original team on the SR-1. The concept of an Insomnia—with all of us as executives in your mind—took shape then. I'd always had this dream for you and me: owning a home, having a family and a dog. Major was part of that dream even though I wasn't aware of it in real life. So she was at HQ with us starting from back then. She was only a puppy at the time; she ended up growing close to everyone. Tali, Liara, Wrex, Joker, Garrus, Kaidan, Dr. Chakwas. Things didn't change until our relationship changed."

"And I assume you're not using your keycard to go after Liara? She obviously submerged the Migrant Fleet underwater to protect Tali and herself from you."

"I mean, she had her reasons. We fought here and there. But Liara only ever saw me as that fire demon you ran into before. That's not even me. It's just a copy—it's how everyone else sees me. Their idea of me. I haven't actually seen Liara with my own eyes since I left HQ. All these years, she's been the Little Mermaid down in Atlantis, hiding from big bad Satan who wants her gone. She has no fucking clue."

I just wanted confirmation. "Have you really left her alone?"

Ashley gave a wry smirk. "Don't worry, Liara's definitely old news. I've got bigger fish to fry."

"Okay, Ash…"

"Shepard, you can say if you don't believe me. I won't get offended."

"It's not that," I insisted. "You seem…different. As you should. A lot's happened."

"Mmm, yeah, I probably am different these days."

"What's changed, then?"

"There's a lot, Shepard," said Ashley. "Way more than I could explain in just one conversation. Besides, you have other stuff to do tonight. Sovereign wants to talk to you. Then you have to clean up whatever's infecting the game. I'm sure that's more important than whatever's going on with me. Don't you think?"

"Maybe," I allowed. "But I still want to know. Are you all right? At least give me that much."

Ominous and omnipotent, Ashley went quiet.

She stared down at her empty wine glass. Focusing on the dredges of gold slicking along the curvatures.

She focused on me without looking directly at me. She directed her energies my way, silently obsessing.

Then she admitted, "I'm not okay. I have a lot going on. Dealing with a bunch of anger, hurt feelings. Not from you or anything. Never that. I had the choice to stay with you, but I chickened out in the end. I know I doomed myself when I chose this path. I know…you resented me for being selfish, choosing my fears over what we had, our relationship. I still resent myself for it to this day… But I'm dealing with it."

"Dealing with it how?"

"Helping you out behind-the-scenes. Taking care of Major. Staying here with you—the captain, anyway."

"You actually live here?"

Ashley glanced around the room. "Yeah, by default, I guess… You never fully let me go. Your other self and me, we have…something going on. You know." She knew I wanted more details, and she sighed in embarrassment. "When you're just going through your day normally, and you get a sudden urge to have sex. Sometimes those urges are for me. You might not even realize it. The buried thoughts you have—the captain acts them out. You'll take me in this bed. Or in the living room. She lets me be your wife."

"And are you holding onto that in some way? Using it as evidence for something more?"

"I'm just saying…you're not always conscious of what you really want. In real life, you want to do the right thing. You want to treat people with respect—if they deserve it. You carry yourself a certain way; you hold yourself to a certain standard as an Alliance officer, as a marine. If you take away those things, you end up as the captain. I've seen you completely unfiltered. I live with you here as your unfiltered self, without those social or moral expectations holding you back. Let's just say—it's an experience."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what she meant by that.

"Anyway, back to reality," she declared. "Once you fix what's going on here, you won't be able to come back to Insomnia for a while. You'll get a sense once enough time's passed. I'll make sure you can speak with Harbinger by then. For now, Sovereign's out there waiting for you. I'll walk you up to the rooftop."

"All right."

Ashley beamed at me again, collecting our dishes on her own. I followed her out of the guest room, back out to the living room. While she cleaned up in the already-spotless kitchen, I looked over at the vid screen. Those same tigers were still there, swimming around and enjoying the water during a particularly hot day. The captain hadn't moved from her spot on the couch beneath the blankets. Still enjoying her peace and quiet—even as she relied on me to fix this slump she was in.

Time to head out now, Ashley went over to the couch first. She leaned over, kissing the captain's forehead. "I'll be back, Skipper." In response, the captain just gave a grumpy, non-committal hum.

Laughing a bit, Ashley left the apartment with me. Together we went to the elevator. Up to the rooftop.

On the way there, I listened to the soundlessness of this elevator taking us upward. Next to me, Ashley stared at the floor in a gentle thoughtfulness, seeming to hold a lot in. Holding a lot back. Holding in what she wanted to say; holding back what she wanted to do. She held onto my arm instead, so tender.

"Ash?" I asked, staring down at the fine roots of her hair. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

"It's nothing," she whispered. "Nothing important. You have other things to focus on. It's not a big deal."

"That's for me to decide. I want to know what's on your mind."

Ashley hesitated before telling me, "So, about Aria… She's really smart, strong. Talented. Stubborn as hell, too. Do you think she could do anything? Like, if you gave her the chance—could she do it all?"

"Of course. Whenever Aria puts her mind to something, she gets it done. I admire that about her."

"Can you see yourself staying with her long-term?"

"Yes, I can. We've been more than steady so far. I can't even complain about our so-called arguments."

"Do you feel like she can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you? Through anything and everything."

I felt my heart fluttering over the thought. "Yes, Ashley. She's more than capable of doing that with me."

"Okay, then," she accepted, sounding relieved. "That's all I needed to know. Thanks, Skipper."

I couldn't help wondering why Ashley needed that mini-interview process.

But once we arrived to the roof, I couldn't ask her anything more about it. Sovereign awaited nearby, standing just close enough to my apartment complex, while still towering over everything else around.

Ashley stayed in the elevator, letting me know, "Guess this is goodbye for now. Or maybe it won't be. Just depends on your choices tonight. Either way, though, you won't be back for a while. Whenever you get access again, I hope I can see you. I've missed you a lot. Promise you'll come hang out with me?"

"Sure, Ash," I promised. "I'll spend some time with you when I can. It's been good seeing you again."

Smiling just the way I remembered, she waved goodbye to me as the elevator doors closed.

All over again, I wanted to believe that Ashley was legitimate. I wanted to trust her again. I wanted to think of her fondly again—even if we weren't together anymore. But the captain's warnings stayed stuck in my head. Ashley as a necessary evil. Whatever that meant, whatever that entailed. Just as these skies overhead remained broken and bleeding red, my relationship with Ashley seemed to be the same. Broken and bleeding; uncertain; tenuous and unstable. I should have been able to rely on the sky's certainty. I should have always known what to expect from that static phenomenon. The fact that it had changed in such startling ways spoke volumes. Something in Ashley's heart spoke of that same change.

That marked hatred deep in her spirit.

That anger—not toward me, not toward Liara. Toward someone else. The 'bigger fish' she had to fry.

It couldn't have been a coincidence that Ashley only showed her true face to me now. Now that Miranda and I weren't together anymore. After the way Miranda had so ruthlessly betrayed her before, I couldn't blame Ashley for her decisions. And yet she didn't seem to mind Aria for some reason. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would say Ashley approved of Aria. Maybe even liked her, respected her as a person.

I just hoped I hadn't made a mistake by reauthorizing Ashley's executive keycard before.

As I walked closer to Sovereign, staring up at its massive form, I felt the weight of these dichotomies.

Gazing up at this being—who once looked down upon me—I felt its reverence, its praise this time:

"Shepard," spoke Sovereign. "You touch my mind, no longer fumbling in ignorance. No longer incapable of understanding. Creature of blood and flesh as you are—you have become…more. Exceeded your limitations."

"Sovereign. It looks like we made a connection before, back on the Citadel. You seem surprised."

"I was once beyond your comprehension. I warned there was a realm of existence so far beyond your own, you could not even imagine it. You have reached that realm. It is here. Where we now stand."

"Here?" I asked. "This is just my unconscious mind. Back on Virmire, you made it sound like way more."

"All is one. The universe is a consciousness. Every life within it is an aspect of the greater whole. And death is a merging of one's spiritual energy back into the greater universal consciousness. That energy will eventually be used to fill new mortal vessels. Organic life. 'Reapers.' For millennia, the cycle has continued as we saw fit. Should you succeed in your mission, the cycle will change. But it will not end."

"So that was your reason? You wanted to bring an end to our civilization…to take our energy back? To create new Reapers that way. All throughout time, you only do this with the species who've reached the apex of their advancement. You'd have the most to gain from them that way. But you don't harvest everyone in the galaxy during a single cycle. You leave the other species alone, allowing new people to be born, to eventually harvest again during the next cycle. Then you'd never go extinct. Does that sound right?"

"Yes," said Sovereign. "We are incapable of reproduction. We must harvest life to create ours anew. We are the harbingers of your perfection, elevating rudimentary organic energies to this realm. To this consciousness. To this collective unconscious. All who stand with you shall reach this realm as they live, merged as one network, as one collective unity. When they perish, they shall return here, as you have witnessed of the deceased you once knew. And as you battle our fleets as legion, a schism will exert itself."

"A schism will show up during the war? What kind of schism?"

"A schism—a battle for control. The scales will tip in either direction. Will a species stand with you, if you have proven yourself worthy as their god? Or will they reject your rule, rejecting this consciousness altogether? In each previous cycle, when we harvested a species, there was no schism. No organic could reach the enlightenment, the power, the influence you have gained. Such a possibility was unthinkable."

I pointed out, "I'm not a god… Why would they have to choose? How is that even an option?"

"As we harvest a species, we elevate them as gods into Reaper form. We grant them the knowledge, the enlightenment you now possess. Their eyes become open to the universe. Your unconscious view is open as such—as 'the captain.' Your closest allies—the executives in Insomnia—have elevated you to this platform, to this influence. They have elevated you as their god, as they view you in subjectivity. They continue to do so, even as you scorn them from day to day. They continue to lift you, even as you question their value, question their worth to you as mere annoyances, inconveniences, obstacles. They will continue to serve you, even should you dismiss their existence forevermore. You are their commander."

…

"Organics are destined to destroy one another. War, religion, politics, identity divisions. Your bonds are rarely true, rarely powerful enough to withstand such chaos. Tribalism and corruption from those in power force your society into base depravities, continuing the needless, primitive cycles of prejudice and discrimination. We preserve organics, ascending them to perfection in our form. You, Shepard, are a testament to our theory. You have broken past the senseless oppression forced upon you as a child. The bonds you now share with others have brought you this far. But your divisions have brought about arguments, broken souls, and deaths. You are not infallible. You are incapable of agreeing with everyone. You are imperfect, yet you possess the insight to see the truth when it is most crucial. The one you call the Illusive Man is under our influence. You discerned his plans. You freed yourself from his entrapment: your previous protector. The question remains—how will you proceed from this day forward? For even should you succeed against us, the schism will present itself. Our legacy will impose your submission, and the cycle will continue."

"Sovereign, you said it yourself. I don't have a protector anymore. My bond with Miranda is finished. It's done. Maybe she's delusional enough to think otherwise. I know better. So I really don't know how I'm going to proceed. I'm not supposed to give up. I'm not supposed to let you and Harbinger win like this."

"The solution was imposed upon you twice before. The Alliance soldier, the Cerberus loyalist—neither of whom could have granted you the strength to last until the very end against Harbinger's true form. The solution now lies with your acceptance. Your choices and consequences. Your independence. Your sovereignty. Your own free will."

Encroaching on me, Sovereign neared, physically, yet I felt so much farther away. A bright white light overtook my senses, everywhere. Shining brighter than bright, this energy took me away, transporting.

In this all-white space, my surroundings felt familiar. Still in Insomnia. Just far-removed from the places I could access on my own. Off in the distance, I could see Sovereign, looming there as it had done before. Behind me, I found what I assumed was Insomnia's headquarters. This building looked much, much taller, raising up to that perpetual white space—so tall that I couldn't even conceive of its true height.

The sign over the front doors read:

Magna Insomnia – The Millennium Tower

Next to me, Legion appeared as a holographic VI entity.

"Greetings, Shepard-Commander. You have reached Insomnia's central operating system."

"I'm guessing this is the literal core?" I asked. "Not the one I could actually reach on my own."

"Yes," confirmed Legion. "We apologize for the misconceptions. As we are not an organic, we were unable to accurately interpret the errors surrounding Insomnia's core. We wished for you to reach this location. We were uncertain as to how you would do so. We did not anticipate Sovereign's assistance."

"That surprised me, too. Were you able to get what you need for the heretics' virus?"

"Yes, we have found the code. We will now be able to locate the heretic station."

"Are you able to get to Insomnia at all? Or am I just talking to you outside of the game?"

Legion explained, "Creator Tali'Zorah's unconscious self has made it possible for us to travel to Insomnia. However, infections in the core have disrupted our migration. Once Shepard-Commander resolves the infections, we will be able to safely proceed with EDI to this collective unconscious."

Resolving the infections—meaning I had to help Aria somehow.

Helping her through her fears. Her fears over me not accepting her for who she was.

I had already told Aria that I accepted her.

Maybe she needed more than that.

Turning around, I found a number of my teammates here. But something seemed a little off with them.

"Shepard-Commander, please choose your party."

In one section of the group, I spotted Kaidan, Joker, Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, and Wrex. As I went over to them, I couldn't help thinking over what Sovereign had told me. How my team had helped me get this far; how their unconscious selves as my executives worked that much harder for me. But as I moved my hand in front of Kaidan's eyes, he gave no response. The others looked similarly blank, gone. Yet they stood before me proudly, glad to serve. So they weren't really here. I still felt them as if they were.

Not too far away, but separate, I saw Jack, Samara, and more solid versions of EDI and Legion. Through my omni-tool, I found that I could make each of them 'available to hire'—meaning the next boss could make them official executives at HQ. I gave the go-ahead for that to happen. Outside of the original team, I wasn't surprised to find that I trusted these four the most. Jack had proven herself worthy, always willing to improve herself and take that next step to up her game. Samara had become my silent protector, often keeping an eye on me without feeling overbearing. EDI and Legion were my obvious friends—and I enjoyed learning about their different perspectives. Even if I didn't always understand.

As the main, central group stood Tali, Liara, Ashley, Miranda, and Aria all together, standing in a row. Tali didn't have her mask, her helmet or her hood on. I remembered this vibrant sight of her face and her long, dark hair flowing down, so gorgeous. The pride and joy in her eyes, I found focused on the taller headquarters behind me. Tali stared up at the building with a sense of ownership, accomplishment, as if she had created the place with her own two hands. Next to her was Liara, their arms linked together in a friendly affection. She didn't stare up at the building, instead staring right through me. Just as Ashley did—with Major sitting at her heel, clearly belonging to her. But every time I moved elsewhere, Ashley's eyes followed me. As soon as I snapped my eyes to hers, she went right back to staring ahead in that deadened emptiness. She made herself entirely obvious when I approached Miranda. Ashley refused to look away from me. She didn't even try to mask her anger. Yet again, when I tried to catch her in the act, Ash just snapped her eyes back, blending in with the group.

Only once I went over to Aria did Ashley stop creeping me out.

And as I stood before Aria's motionless form, I recalled who wasn't here.

James, Zaeed, Javik, Kasumi, and Mordin. Thane wasn't even part of the conversation. But the others—I knew why I couldn't see them here. Not necessarily out of neglect. I guessed it just took me much longer to warm up to them. I couldn't help it. I couldn't force that stronger bond. I wasn't sure what this would mean for the suicide mission, the final assault on the Collector homeworld. Imminent as that battle was now, I knew I would need everyone.

As I thought that, someone else appeared on Aria's other side.

Her daughter Liselle.

I had never met her myself.

But the twin-like resemblance between the two—and Liselle's all-black commando uniform—gave her identity away. Though we had communicated already. Liselle had emailed me about a week ago, secretly telling me about her mother's birthday approaching toward the end of this month in June. So of course, once we'd arrived to the Citadel, I went to buy Aria a birthday present. Although Liselle had made it clear in her message. She wanted us to speak more often. Apparently she'd known for a few years now about her mother's feelings for me. Liselle had done her research on me as well. Even though she'd never met any of Aria's previous partners, she wanted to get to know me on her own terms.

The thought did throw me off, considering Aria and I had only been together for a month now.

And I'd met Ashley and Miranda's younger sisters before—Sarah, Oriana. Just never anyone's daughter.

The idea of meeting Liselle, talking to her, getting to know her…it did intimidate me for obvious reasons. Plus Liselle was so much older than me. Almost twice Liara's age—a little over two hundred years old—still in her maiden stage of life. But she meant so much to Aria, I couldn't help my curiosities. If Liselle wanted to make the rules between us, then I saw it as my duty to go along for the ride. Whatever she wanted was fine with me.

Looking at everyone one last time, I remembered I was supposed to choose.

Legion had told me to choose my party members. A party for what, though? Of course I wanted Aria with me. Liselle, too. Was I supposed to choose someone else? I didn't want to.

Before I could even speak, Aria grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into the next area—

Dissolution of that all-white from Insomnia's central core.

I reappeared somewhere else, freezing cold from the white of the snow everywhere. Another place, another town. Not in Insomnia. This location felt distinctively real—down to the snow coat and snow boots I suddenly had on over my suit, insulating me with warmth from the cold. As I buried my gloved hands into my coat pockets, I stared up at the sky. Undoubtedly, Thessia's vermillion sunlight beamed through the snow clouds, nearing sunset. All around me, not quite seeing me, I saw a few cliquey groups of asari wandering around. Not too many. Dressed in school uniforms with their own snow gear. They all walked out of the building in front of me—what looked like the asari's equivalent of a high school.

I entered the school, wandering the empty halls. Class must've been out for the day. Afterschool hours.

As I wondered where Aria was, I looked to the signs around. One sign pointed to the school dance studio. Remembering that Aria loved to dance, I went over in that direction. I soon found her in a large, well-lit studio with other students, practicing a dance routine with an instructor. I entered the studio; no one sensed me, no one noticed me. I was free to go up to Aria, finding her in the front row, staring at herself in the mirror. That intense focus; sweat dripping down her sculpted face. Aria technically looked the same. Same markings over her face, same long legs, same air of aloofness and distance. Just a bit shorter, but still very tall for her age—at least compared to the other students around. Their instructor looked proud, focused on her. She used Aria as an example, basically telling the other students to live up to her. Some of the students lost their focus, then, clearly exasperated, jealous. But Aria remained in her element. Undefeatable with her love and need for this artistic expression. Not just a need—a release.

Her freedom.

When class was over, I followed Aria to her next destination. She kept to herself as she headed for the locker room and shower area, somehow giving off a more tame version of the aura I remembered of her. Everyone else stuck to their groups, giggling and gossiping together, just like any other teenagers would. I kept my distance from Aria, though, once she went to shower. I could only assume she was underage here. So I kept to where the other asari were, already dressed among their groups of friends. I overheard one group from Aria's dance class. Talking shit about her as expected. Jealous, threatened.

They went on and on about how she was a loner, she was cold-blooded, and no one wanted her or liked her; she never smiled, she never spoke to anyone. As if they couldn't wait to take her down a peg, just to prove Aria a lesson. They dared to joke about her being a secret murderer from how quiet she was.

"Better stay away from her!" they jeered, laughing and laughing.

But then Aria walked by, dressed in her snow gear for her walk home. She just stared at them. The group stared back at her, terrified. Aria found her own measure of power from the situation. Yet even at this young age, this whole thing seemed so…beneath her. She wasn't at all surprised when the girls had nothing more to say. Nothing directly to her face. Exactly as she was used to as an adult by now.

This version of Aria sneered and said, "That's what I thought," before walking off.

The girls still had nothing to say once she left. Figures.

I followed Aria again as she headed through the quiet, sleepy town, heading home. I stayed behind, stepping along the trail of Aria's footprints in the snow. She passed by the leafless wintry trees along the sidewalk, tangled with glittering colors—reminding me of Christmas lights back on Earth. The shops and other locations she walked by held those same types of colorful lights, brightening the encroaching night. Aria's path home took her through a more populous town center, filled with bars, shops, and restaurants. But this bustle still felt subdued compared to other cities, the town moving at a much slower pace. Only a few skycars passed through the foggy winds. Most people chose to walk: small families commuting together, small groups waiting at the traffic stops before crossing the street.

I wondered where Aria's family was. She seemed old enough to take care of herself by this age, even if she wasn't an adult yet. But I sensed such a hollowed despair about her. Aria wouldn't show it. Not through her face, her expression. Yet she never made eye contact with anyone. She never looked up to enjoy the snowy, frozen town monuments she passed by. No one acknowledged Aria, and Aria didn't acknowledge anyone around her. She could've been completely alone in an empty town. Isolated.

That same isolation found her once she arrived home.

Small, modest, unassuming, Aria's house had only so much room. Freezing cold, no heat. No lights—only the faint moonlight shining through the iced windows. Aria used the orange brightness of her omni-tool to see, to get around. The living room she entered with a small kitchen, with a hallway leading to one bedroom and one bathroom. A smaller corner here in the living room: Aria went over to her gathered blankets and pillows on the floor. Not even a mattress, or a bed, or a room of her own. She simply had her clothes folded up in that same corner. No personal belongings. No books, no electronics. Nothing.

After dumping her schoolbag near the bedding, Aria went to the kitchen.

No food in the cabinets. Nothing whatsoever in the refrigerator. No electricity to even light the stove.

She returned to her bundled sheets and comforters, sitting down there. From her schoolbag, she took out some of her schoolwork, the datapads there. But Aria gripped her stomach, too distracted to focus on any kind of homework. She lay down instead, shivering, starving. Facing away from the datapads.

I knelt down by Aria's side with a heavy heart, looking over some of her schoolwork. I checked the topmost datapad. Looked like a recent test she'd taken on theoretical and metaphysical biotics, graded as Incomplete. I saw that Aria did in fact answer some of the questions. But only the most difficult ones. Aria had answered them correctly, as if making a point—while leaving all of the easy questions blank. Along with the marked grade, her teacher had left a note near the bottom of the page:

Aria,

You're my brightest student. I know you're better than this. We've had problems with you being bored in class. It seemed like we moved past that. But now this is too much. I can tell you're unfocused. If you won't share your reasons, I'll have to notify the school. They may decide to revoke your dance class privileges. Neither of us want that, but I'm running out of options. You won't talk to me. This is serious.

Alongside this recent test, Aria had several other datapads. Not from school. These looked like employment applications she'd sent out and gotten back. Aria had tried to find a job to earn her own credits. Maybe even to buy her own place, to take care of herself. A job down at the local restaurant washing dishes in the back. Another job at her school as her dance instructor's assistant. Another job at one of the gun and ammunition shops in town, using her biotics in place of hard labor for incoming packages. Any typical jobs for a typical high schooler with no real experience. And yet every single one had written back to Aria, saying they were impressed—but they couldn't hire her. Not because they didn't personally want her at their company.

But because Aria's mother had called every single place, expressly forbidding them from hiring her. Her own mother wouldn't pay the heat or electricity bills, wouldn't put food on the table. Yet the second Aria sought out her own freedom, this happened.

Forcing her focus, Aria grabbed her schoolbag, pulling out her homework for the evening.

She retrieved one of her textbooks on asari religion, attempting to read in the light of her omni-tool.

But not even a moment later, she threw the weight of the book back down. Disinterested. Disillusioned.

I looked down at the page Aria had attempted to read. And I found a very familiar-sounding passage on the asari's mainstream siari religion, separate from the much older teachings of the Goddess Athame:

"All is one." The faithful agree on certain core truths: the universe is a consciousness, every life within it is an aspect of the greater whole, and death is a merging of one's spiritual energy back into the greater universal consciousness. Siarists don't specifically believe in reincarnation; they believe that spiritual energy returned to the universal consciousness upon death will eventually be used to fill new mortal vessels. Siari became popular after the original travelers left the homeworld, and discovered our ability to meld with nearly any form of life. This ability is seen as proof that all life is fundamentally similar. Siari priestesses see their role as promoting unity between the disparate shards of the universe's awareness.

Exactly what Sovereign had said earlier.

Far-removed from any of that, Aria just sat in place. Staring out the nearest window. Just enough of the snowy moonlight and the town's colorful lights shone in. Those brights illuminated the ice blue of Aria's cold stare. Poignant, pensive. Increasingly fed-up with this frozen hell she'd likely suffered for all her life.

Aria seemed to get an idea.

She left the house, wandering back out to the frozen cold of the night. I followed in her footsteps as before. Watching as she stared at the restaurants and grocery shops she passed by. The smells of those warm meals tempted her through the brightly-lit windows, everywhere. Aria stared through those windows every time, the glass reflecting her stare, the pride in her face, her hooded head. And I could see the wheels turning in her head. Aria judged that she could not, would not go in and steal. She refused to lower her pride by begging anyone for anything. Even if it meant starving to death, Aria would never ask someone for help. But she knew she couldn't go out like this, either. Despite these circumstances in her life, Aria knew she had so much more to live for. She didn't want to just give up.

Somewhere nearby, Aria heard the sounds of someone laughing. Snapping her head around, she looked across the street, staring at a group of adult asari there. The women all had on flashy, expensive clothes, dressed for a wild night out on the town. Among that group of friends, one of them stood out to me. She bore such a striking resemblance to Aria in her looks, the sound of her voice. That had to be her mother.

Aria followed the group from a safe distance.

They eventually arrived at a packed, fancy bar called Ambitious. No need to stand in line—the bar's bouncer saw Aria's mother, hailing her group over immediately. They all skipped the line, heading inside together. The loud sounds of their laughter echoed through the biting cold long after they disappeared.

Those echoes stayed with Aria as she rushed back home. She searched her mother's room by the light of her omni-tool. Tons of similar flashy outfits stacked on top of her mother's opulent bed. Jewelry out everywhere. Shoes and shoes stacked around and scattered along the floor like heeled landmines. Asari beauty products lined her mother's dresser, everywhere. Fashion magazines, decadent accessories. But in the corner in the trash—just around the already-packed trash bin—Aria found something else. Old tests of hers she'd given to her mother. Tests marked as 100%. Some with even more from extra credit.

Beyond frustrated, Aria abandoned the room. She stayed in her snow coat and went to bed. She bundled herself with those blankets and comforters as a fortress. Breathing hard, Aria couldn't fall asleep right away. Not with her thoughts, her emotions racing so wildly. Knowing how futile this was, I lay down to hold her anyway. Aria managed to fall asleep without shivering. Maybe she felt me after all. Maybe she sensed me in spirit. Maybe she had my love with her across this distance of time and space.

As I closed my eyes, I heard the sound of Legion's voice somewhere, asking me:

"Will you proceed?"

I held Aria closer to me, wanting to keep going. Needing to know more about her. No matter what.

The next day arrived.

An earlier time in the late afternoon—Aria returned home after skipping dance class. She went back into her mother's room, this time with a plan. Searching around, Aria found certain pieces of jewelry scattered on the floor. Pieces her mother wouldn't notice went missing. After collecting a few of those pieces, Aria donned some of her mother's clothes. She then changed a few settings in her omni-tool before leaving the house. She made her way to the town's only pawn shop. Appropriately disguised, Aria fooled the security scanners into thinking she was her mother, just from changing those settings on her omni-tool. She sold the pieces of stolen jewelry, at last earning a decent number of credits to her name. Aria then treated herself to dinner, doing her best to not scarf everything down all at once. Her pride.

On the way home, Aria purchased a portable heater, rechargeable with her omni-tool. This time, she could sleep without that bundled fortress. But I still felt Aria's burning anger. She began to truly scheme.

Aria stalked her mother throughout the whole weekend. From that same bar, to one of the town's hotels—Aria's mother hung around with someone else this time. Some rich asari visiting from out of town on a business trip. Aria's mother clearly had a scheme of her own, using these rich people to pamper her and buy her whatever she wanted. All while she left her own daughter at home to starve and freeze to death. Most days, Aria's mother would just be out with these rich people, usually in some hotel room sleeping with them. In exchange, they would throw money and clothes and jewels at her.

One day during the week, Aria used her lunch break to check back home. She found her mother asleep in bed. Aria dressed up as her again. She went to that rich asari's hotel room, stealing a larger amount of valuables all at once. She took the valuables to the pawn shop and sold everything. But this time, Aria had the money sent to her mother's account, fully-aware of the consequences. After leaving the pawn shop, Aria disposed of her mother's clothes, then hurried back to school. No one noticed she'd even left.

When Aria arrived home as normal, she found the police there, arresting her mother.

The police officers didn't look at Aria with a shred of suspicion. They saw the state this house was in. They understood what went on in the household. They merely saw Aria as a child in distress, despite her relative maturity. Frantically, her mother attempted to change the situation. She screamed at the cops that she had an alibi; that she couldn't have possibly pawned all of those valuables. As the police had her in cuffs, restraining her, Aria's mother tried to throw herself in her daughter's direction. She shouted that Aria knew she was asleep here during the day. She denied any criminal wrongdoing. She denied having abused her daughter for years and years. She denied neglecting her. She denied everything.

When the police looked to Aria, she shook her head. She refused to take her mother's side. She refused to vouch for her. The truth of her neglect spoke for itself. And so the police hauled her mother away.

Unseen, Aria smiled to herself in a deep satisfaction.

Not long afterward, a social worker arrived to the scene.

She asked Aria if she wanted to be emancipated from her mother. Aria asked if that meant she would lose this house. The social worker said yes, she would. Aria declined the offer. She wanted this house to be in her name once she was of age. The social worker promised this would happen—but legally, she could not allow Aria to stay here. So Aria agreed to leave—with nothing except the clothes on her back.

Again, Legion asked me:

"Will you proceed?"

My only answer was yes.

Leaving her hometown, Aria got sent off to Thessia's equivalent of military school.

Her regular secondary education blended in with her training to become a commando. Already a powerful biotic for her age, Aria quickly found her place here. She terrified her peers with her power, just from her tendency to hold nothing back. Aria enjoyed that fear. No one dared to talk badly about her. No one even thought of spreading rumors or gossiping behind her back. She still didn't have any friends, but this didn't bother her. Aria soon found these differences between her civilian life and her military life, and she adored them. She knew—she would rather be feared and respected than loved and taken advantage of.

As Aria's school was in a bigger city, this change also afforded her new freedoms. She snuck off to nightclubs as she pleased, working as a dancer for her own money. Even though her school provided room and board, Aria of course needed these freedoms. Providing for herself. Steadily collecting her own riches. Not necessarily spending any of it. Saving credits for the hell of it. Because she finally could.

Although Aria wasn't entirely isolated in her new life.

One of her instructors had motivated her in special ways. They finally gave Aria the structure she'd needed in life. They challenged Aria to do her best in school, despite her annoyance with the various rules she needed to follow. Whenever I watched snippets of Aria's classes with this military asari, I saw myself transposed over her. The instructor and I behaved similarly. We had similar dispositions. So I saw this person as Aria remembered her today. From the way Aria looked at her sometimes, I could tell. This had to be Aria's first love. Nothing ever came of it for obvious reasons. Academically, Aria wasn't a kid anymore: the equivalent of a senior in high school. Her instructor was still hundreds of years older than her: a decorated military officer who couldn't possibly date her student. From what I understood of asari ages, Aria wouldn't even be seen as 'barely more than a child' for several more years. Knowing the same, she held those feelings in her heart, never speaking them aloud or acting on them. She let them inspire her to keep achieving more. Becoming more. Accomplishing more and more in life, instead of letting her intelligence and talents go to waste.

During her university years, Aria went to business school as a subset of her ongoing military training. Real estate, management, economics, accounting, marketing, entrepreneurship—she learned it all and excelled in her classes. After school, Aria would take on her part-time, hands-on training as a commando for the city she lived in. Patrolling the streets, guarding public figures, assassinating anyone giving the police too much trouble. Upholding the peace.

Aria's superiors recognized her capabilities, praising her at every opportunity.

Though she would never say it, Aria appreciated the recognition. She found her pride as a commando. She found her pride in her quick and speedy promotions, becoming an officer as soon as she completed military school with her undergraduate degree. She found her pride to serve in uniform. That all-black ensemble stayed on her at all times. Even as she continued onto her graduate program, again in business, management, entrepreneurship. Even as she left town on occasion to go pay someone a visit.

Every weekend, Aria would put on her uniform, and go visit her mother in prison.

For a full six months, her mother refused to come out and accept her visits.

Aria kept up her routine anyway. She would go to the prison's visiting center. She would tell the officers her name, and that she was there to visit her mother. Then Aria would sit there in her uniform and wait. Waiting and waiting. Waiting only for the officers to tell Aria that her mother wasn't coming out—without giving a reason why. And then, indifferent, Aria would get up and leave. Only to repeat this same process the next weekend, the next weekend, and the next in between her schooling and work.

After exactly six months of this routine, Aria's mother finally emerged to the all-white space.

Separated by bulletproof glass, Aria sat on one side and her mother sat on the other. Aria stared straight ahead, straight-laced in her uniform. Smirking in a sadistic superiority. Meanwhile, her mother sat hunched over. She kept her hand over her face, slightly deformed from the drugs she'd consumed in prison, smuggled illegally from outside. Aria's mother would not look at her. Not directly. Not indirectly.

Aria sounded deceptively pleasant as she asked, "Aren't you going to say anything? Or at least look at me?" Her mother remained completely still. Haughty, Aria laughed a bit. "Figures. I finally see you again after all these years, and you refuse to speak. Then again, I hardly ever saw you before. You were always gone. Off on your sexual escapades, getting your rich consorts to give you everything. You never worked a single day in your life, have you? Never earned anything on your own. Or clawed your way to the top."

Still no response.

Still no acknowledgment.

"Well, you should be glad to know I'm nothing like you. As soon as I finish my graduate program, I'm going back 'home.' To that freezing town you trapped me in. I plan on playing as a real estate tycoon, improving the town however I can. Given how many consorts you found from out of town, I see a business opportunity. The place would be better off as a tourist resort. Raking in the credits that way."

Such a deafening, clinical silence waded between them.

"By the way—when you get out of here, don't even think of returning to that house. It belongs to me now. I have even more plans for that plot of land. So if you do decide to head back to town, you'll have to find other accommodations. But I'm guessing that shouldn't be too difficult for you. Call up your old friends. Or find some other rich sap who'll do your bidding for you. That's what you do best, after all."

Flashes of rage and resentment highlighted through her mother's eyes.

Aria didn't seem to notice. She instead withdrew into herself for a moment. Wondering why she even bothered doing this; why this was even remotely important to her. But she had spent the past six months waiting for this opportunity. Waiting for this chance to make her mother finally see her.

Yet Aria's mother still refused to look up.

"Is that it, then?" asked Aria, slamming her fist on the table. "You're just going to sit there? You're going to keep acting like I don't exist? Like I don't fucking matter to you at all?!" No response yet again. No acknowledgment yet again. "I'm your child! I'm supposed to matter to you. I'm supposed to be the center of your damned world. You're supposed to do anything for me! Make sacrifices; destroy anyone or anything that tries to hurt me. Instead all you care about is getting high and ignoring me! You're an expert at it!" Too many frustrations building. Aria caught herself. She didn't want to get too worked up over her own mother, who didn't seem to care about her. "You need to say something. Speak up. Right now. Because if you don't, I'm walking out this door. I'm leaving and never coming back. Don't test me."

For whatever reason, her mother continued to say nothing. Emoting nothing. Giving no reactions.

No real power over the situation, the sting of rejection—Aria forced herself to stand up. She snarled in her own rage, wanting to hit the glass between them. She wanted to tear down the glass. Force her mother to finally acknowledge her gifts, her talents, her accomplishments. But Aria quickly saw how pointless her feelings were. Wounded from the truth, she did exactly as she said she would. Aria walked out the door. She left the prison's visiting center and never came back. She continuously walked away from that image of her mother's neglect, over and over again throughout her next handful of years.

As promised, Aria moved onto putting her business specialties to use. Graduate degree in-hand, she did indeed return to her hometown, playing real estate tycoon there. She applied her management skills appropriately: buying up old shops and clubs with the money she'd earned as a dancer, renovating them, and improving the areas as a whole. She steadily worked on branding the entire town as a frozen paradise, as a tourism resort with hot springs, spa getaways, excellent hotels, local scenery, and snow sports in addition to the swanky, high-end department stores, restaurants, bars, and nightclubs glowing all through the snowy days and nights. Aria even put her brand onto the buildings—the same symbol she wore on her back over her current-day outfit, and plastered over Omega's territories years later.

In fact, as a gift to herself, Aria had that outfit of hers tailor-made around this time.

The cropped white leather jacket with her custom brand on the back. The black breastplate underneath. The black bodysuit linking down to her leather pants, silver buckles and shows of skin over her waist enticing. The short black heels of her boots, elongating her legs even more. Everyone knew her on sight.

Acting as the baron for her hometown satisfied her for many years. But Aria didn't yet have the funds to do what she really wanted—renovating her childhood home. In order to do that, she needed way more credits for what she had in mind. She knew she would need to leave town; earn more riches elsewhere.

One night, Aria walked around the town beneath the light snowfall, contemplating her next move.

The obvious choices were to continue dancing at nightclubs, and working as a mercenary across the galaxy. Aria seemed dead-set on Omega already. Three hundred years old now, she wanted to focus on securing her legacy outside of this tiny town. She found that Omega was likely the best place to do it. Even though she understood nothing would happen overnight, Aria remained undeterred by the wait. She found satisfaction in taking the long-view, needing to plan things out well ahead of time. She concluded that her long-term goals would pay off on the mining station, and so she made plans to head there soon.

While making her travel arrangements, Aria heard someone not too far away, outside one of the restaurants she owned. An unkempt, not-dressed-for-the-cold asari stumbled and swerved around in the snow. Babbling nonsense. Clearly tweaking from a drug withdrawal. Aria scoffed over the sight, concerned that this person might start harassing her paying customers. So she went up to them.

"Hey, junkie!" asserted Aria. "Get the hell away from my business. No one needs you making a scene—"

Getting a better look, Aria found her own likeness in this asari's drug-deformed face.

Too furious for words, Aria grabbed her arm instead. She tried to pull her mother away. Away from the restaurant, away from the concerned customers hovering around nearby. But Aria's mother kept slipping in the snow, hollering in pain as she collapsed. Exasperated, Aria yanked at her every time, trying to pull her. Her mother just gripped at Aria's arm, hanging there; sobbing for no apparent reason.

"Get up! Why are you doing this? Why are you so fucking useless?! Get the fuck up, you piece of shit!"

Nothing worked. Nothing helped. Aria didn't have the patience to get her mother anywhere safe. Emotionally severed, disconnected, Aria only viewed this person as an inconvenience. She only wanted to get her mother away for the sake of her business, her money-making machine. She refused to let anyone or anything compromise that. So Aria used her omni-tool to call for an emergency service.

As soon as they answered, Aria spoke loudly over her mother's hysterical crying—"I found some drug addict in the street. She's tweaking and disrupting my businesses. I need to get her to rehab, now!"

The asari on the other end asked gently, "What is your relationship to the one who needs assistance?"

Aria barked out in disgust, "I'm her daughter!"

"…yes, I understand. Thank you, Aria. We will send someone along immediately. Please wait with her."

During the wait, Aria couldn't stop flexing her biotics. Controlling herself. Her murderous urges as her mother continued wailing. Hanging onto Aria's arm, gripping onto Aria's leg, her mother kept babbling incoherently. Aria knew better than to act on her urges. Yet she couldn't help the absolute breadth of her volcanic contempt. She sneered down at her mother's apparent weakness, seeing that vulnerability as a pure liability, plain and simple. Contemptuous, undesirable, unambitious—and weak, weak, weak.

Aria could not comprehend her mother's struggles as a mental health issue.

Stuck in that mindset of a neglected, abandoned child, Aria could never forgive those sins. She expected her mother to be better than this. To rise above any perceived slights or faults or weaknesses for her sake. That she did not only spoke to Aria's perceived insignificance. As Aria had expressed before, she expected her mother to do anything for her. To sacrifice everything for her. Her mother's refusal to do so only damaged Aria's ego, hampered Aria's view of her own self-worth. And so she hated these reminders. She wanted no part of this emotional theater, this inconvenience. She wanted to move on.

Move on she did by moving away to Omega.

Aria wasted no time in heading to Afterlife first. Omega's previous leader, the old krogan crime lord, "Patriarch," ruled the station at this time. So Aria went to him, and he soon hired her as an exotic dancer at the club. She danced for complete strangers, finding her freedom in that expression, never lost or forgotten over the years. Anyone who belittled her, she took them to the bathroom stalls under the guise of having sex, only to kill them instead. Aria purposely did this to her boss' enemies, using this as a way to quickly move up the ranks over the years. However, as a backup plan in case her ambitions didn't work out, Aria took off-world jobs as a mercenary. She ran into Wrex at this time.

They had their standoff on a space station, but Aria decided to let Wrex go, respecting his power. Killing him would've only wasted his potential. Upon returning back to Omega, Patriarch found out about Aria's decision, and promoted her again. As fellow krogan battlemasters, Patriarch respected Wrex, and so he respected Aria more for what she chose to do. He paid her more, gave her more important jobs, and allowed her to manage the other asari dancers. All the while, she continued saving as much money as she could.

Aria eventually became one of Patriarch's most trusted lieutenants. After a hundred years from their initial meeting, however, he caught onto Aria's ambitions. He realized this too late, as Aria had already earned the trust of Omega's other top dogs. Taking advantage of the schism, Aria made sure Patriarch ended up abandoned and isolated. She then challenged him to a duel at Afterlife. Aria crushed one of his hearts, defeating him soundly in the end. She then took her place as the station's de-facto ruler—the Pirate Queen of Omega. Leaving Patriarch around as her trophy, she named him as such, purposely forgetting his real name. The name "Patriarch" had no meaning in the asari language, thus Aria chose this on purpose to mock him. The old krogan eventually embraced his new place, fully submitting to Aria's rule. He couldn't even complain when Aria renovated Afterlife, installing a new loft for herself near the top of the club. After a few years of overseeing the station, Aria had the money she needed.

So she went back to her hometown on Thessia, finally achieving this last dream of hers.

Aria hired the right people to bulldoze her childhood home. She then put her plans in motion to build a penthouse on the same plot of land. Her hometown had grown to become a real mini-metropolis in her absence. A penthouse wouldn't have seemed out of place. More importantly, everyone would know it belonged to her.

As work proceeded on the penthouse, Aria learned that her mother was severely ill. She stayed in the town's hospital, dealing with several complications after a life of hard drugs, starting from her years in prison before. Knowing she didn't have time to hold grudges anymore—at least not in the same ways—Aria decided to go visit. She arrived to her mother's hospital room one afternoon. No gifts, no flowers.

For the longest, Aria just stood next to her mother's bed. Staring at her, at the details. Practically absorbed by the hospital bed, her mother appeared deathly thin. Breathing through oxygen tubes as she slept a deep sleep. She didn't have much longer to live. As Aria continued to stand near the bed, she tried to steer her thoughts toward the most comfortable of realms. 'How the mighty have fallen.' 'That will never be me.' 'You get what you deserve.' But as time passed, and she kept staring at her sleeping mother, listening to her embattled breathing, Aria's demeanor changed. She became consumed by a throat-stinging fear of ending up the same way. Inevitably, everyone was supposed to die. Aria wanted no such thing. She always wanted to be as she was. She didn't want these reminders of her mortality.

Aria stared out the nearby window. Thessia's vermillion sunlight shined through the frozen day. Blushes of pink from the cherry trees brushed along in the gentle breeze. The natural ice blue of Aria's gaze thawed in that brief moment. Because she stared out at the renovated town—and she realized how she had given everything she had to improve this place, bringing the town up to par for her standards. Because she had conquered Omega, only to end up back here in this deflated state. Deflated, defanged.

Four hundred years later, and she still couldn't escape the pain of her mother's rejections and negligence. Four hundred years and millions of credits later, and still she remained broken, emotionally.

Distancing herself seemed to be the only viable option. Acting as if she had no family at all. Believing she didn't belong to anyone. She saw no point in loving or accepting this person—putting up with her mother—just because they were family. For Aria, that wasn't a good enough reason. She had a difficult enough time accepting other people as it was. The way Aria saw it, she had never asked to be born. So why was she supposed to put up with these inconveniences, just because they were blood-related?

Aria had already severed herself in this way years ago. For her own survival, she accepted that her mother didn't care. Her mother knew what she'd accomplished as a commando, as an entrepreneur, and as the Pirate Queen of Omega, yet she never spoke of it. Aria recognized that her mother would never give her the validation she so desperately craved. She would never make those expected sacrifices for her only daughter. So Aria would have to find what she needed elsewhere—on Omega and beyond.

Soon Aria's mother woke up and opened her eyes. Looking right at her. She appeared to want to say something, but she was too feeble to speak loudly enough. So Aria went over to her, just as she heard a few nurses shuffling around outside. She stared down at her dying mother with equally deadened eyes. No emotion, no light. Cold and frozen, exactly like the day outside. Exactly like the childhood she'd had.

Barely audible, her mother croaked out, "Are you going to kill me now, Aria?"

Aria smirked at her. She leaned down, adjusting her mother's pillows. Giving the appearance of a dutiful daughter as the nurses outside peeked in the room. Meanwhile, Aria thought over her words with great care. She studied her mother beneath her, in this inescapable vulnerability, this encroaching death. The luster of Aria's lips had dulled in her dying mirror, as her mother's mouth had cracked and deformed from so many harsh drugs. The sharp, intimidating family patterns over Aria's face, over her forehead, the strong bones of her brows—again in this dying mirror, she found that strength wilted and worn. The ego that should have glowed in her mother's eyes had blunted. The pride that should have exuded from her entire being had faded away. All over again, Aria told herself that would never be her. She refused.

Then, as the nurses came in, Aria finally whispered to her, "I'm not giving you the satisfaction, Mother."

Her mother looked downright haggard from that response.

But Aria decided it didn't matter. She stood up properly, collected her ego as she would a purse or handbag, and walked past the nurses. She left the hospital and again never came back.

On the day her penthouse's construction finished, Aria was in a festive mood. She hadn't yet furnished the place as she wanted. But she'd completed the project. She'd accomplished her longtime goal. She had her dream home overlooking her hometown, as that metaphorical house on a hill. Aria celebrated alone by popping open some champagne. She sipped her glass while she stood out on the veranda, smiling to herself. Aria contemplated her ascent to power, staring out at the town's warm glowing lights across the horizon. Despite the tragedies in her past, she wouldn't have traded any of this away.

Aria knew she couldn't have gotten to where she was without her history. She fully thought she had raised herself. She truly believed she had gotten to where she was on her own—without anyone's help whatsoever.

That illusion continued until she received a call from the hospital.

Aria rolled her eyes over this final inconvenience.

She answered in an emotionless voice, "What is it now?"

The asari doctor seemed thrown by that tone. "I'm sorry, Aria. I'm calling to inform you…that your mother passed on just moments ago. She is no longer with us." Eyes deadened once more, Aria simply stared out at the snowflakes in the breeze. "I am aware the two of you weren't close. She struggled with a lifetime of addiction after her time in prison. Oftentimes these things aren't easy on our daughters—"

"Spare me the feel-good speech. You don't need to make excuses for her. She made her choices long ago. She loved her drugs instead of me, and that's perfectly fine. I don't care. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, there is… Your mother asked me to share her final words with you. I'm not sure what they mean. She seemed absolutely certain that you would know. Would you like me to pass them onto you?"

"Fine," accepted Aria. "What did she have to say before she died?"

The doctor relayed her words verbatim—"'I know it was you.'"

What Aria had pulled off in her youth.

Disguising herself as her mother. Pawning those stolen valuables. Getting her arrested, sent to prison.

All this time, her mother knew, and she never said anything.

The shock of it all nearly made Aria drop her glass of champagne.

After a moment, the doctor worried, "Aria, are you still there? Do you understand what she meant?"

Aria snapped back, "Yes, I understand! Continue on with the usual arrangements for the burial service. If I need to sign something, just send it electronically. We're done," and then hung up, ending the call.

Alone again, Aria realized: all these years, hundreds of years, her mother knew it was her. Her mother knew Aria was the only person who could've set her up like that. Her mother could've turned her in. Said something during the trial, or even during her arrest, yet she never did. Aria had a motive, after all. It wouldn't have taken much for her mother to convince someone of what had really happened; for Aria's life to have turned out completely different. She would've ended up in prison instead; possibly turned to drugs instead to forget the pain. Aria could've ended up just like her mother, but her mother had chosen to save her. Her mother's continued silence spoke of pure humiliation—until the very end.

Such gut-wrenching anger and confusion and despair—Aria gripped her glass of champagne harder and harder. She crushed the glass in her hand, bloodied alcohol spilling down her fingerless glove. With her uninjured hand, she gripped the railing of the balcony, holding back those heated tears in her eyes. They flowed freely anyway despite her efforts. Because Aria's mother had made those mythical sacrifices she'd always craved. She'd made the motherly sacrifices that Aria had forever wanted, needed, and expected. Just not in the ways she had foreseen while her mother was still alive. More like atonement after it was already too late. Too late to make a difference after all the abuse and neglect. But Aria's mother had endeavored to love her anyway, knowing it was too little, too late. The only way she could.

I stood just behind Aria in this moment. I watched her fall to her emotions at the height of her success. I lived this heart-wrenching reality with her; she succumbed to rock bottom at the top of this penthouse.

Again, somewhere far away, I heard Legion's voice asking me:

"Will you proceed?"

Knowing she couldn't actually feel me, I held Aria anyway.

I gave her my acceptance—my only answer as yes.

Some years later, back on Omega, Aria sought to bury her past. She lived up the glitz and glam of her powerful lifestyle. She found the validation she thought she needed, leaning into her ruthless dictator persona. "I am Omega," and "Omega only has One Rule—don't fuck with Aria" became frequent refrains in her vocabulary. Clinging to her mantras, Aria ignored the regular citizens on her station. They were on their own, needing to get by in a world filled with lawless mercenaries and other criminals under Aria's rule. She didn't give a damn about the homeless out in the streets. Aria merely saw them as weak, as useless, as inconvenient reminders of her past. Not giving a fuck, she just let them rot in the streets.

Aria instead focused on overseeing mercenary and mining operations, taking her generous cut of their earnings, running the various businesses across Omega—Afterlife included—and playing kingmaker with gang leadership. She had her lackeys and her lieutenants doing her bidding. But she never trusted anyone as a friend, as a true lover. Forever paranoid, Aria couldn't help believing that everyone was out to get her. After all, she had taken down Patriarch after a mere hundred years of careful planning and execution. And so she would be damned if she let someone come in and do the same thing to her.

Aria found that sex was the most reliable way to blow off steam.

Naturally charismatic, she picked up women easily, just by showing them a good time, throwing her money around, and giving them that bombastic life. Aria knew it was all superficial. But she didn't care. She didn't want to actually fall for someone, knowing that this person could've taken advantage. Anyone who got too close could've stabbed her in the back, or in the front, that much easier. Aria decided it wasn't worth the risk, possibly losing her station after falling in love with the wrong person. But one woman came close to changing her mind.

One-sided—she had met this asari through her usual means. Nothing serious, nothing sincere. Yet Aria found herself enraptured by this other asari's joy anyway. A pure joie de vivre, forever happy to be around Aria; never judging Aria for her anger; never holding Aria's aloofness against her. They went on the most memorable dates with one another: racing motorbikes across Omega, throwing ostentatious parties for the station's celebrated gang leaders, and hosting over-the-top entertainment nights at Afterlife for the hell of it. This woman seemed to adore being on Aria's arm, being her steady girlfriend.

But even so, Aria knew something was off. She had fallen for this woman hard, even knowing things weren't really that deep between them. More than that, Aria knew to maintain her paranoia—for her own protection. She had one of her lieutenants do some digging on her girlfriend. And she discovered that this woman had not only cheated on her—having an affair with some other merc leader—but stole money from her as well, taking her own profits from Omega's ongoing operations. Devastated, betrayed, enraged: Aria dealt with the problem the only way she knew how. With words at first.

Aria invited her girlfriend up to her loft that night. She confronted her with every piece of evidence, every single receipt. Her girlfriend couldn't deny a single thing. She burst into tears, trying to apologize. Yet none of her words meant anything. Nothing at all. Not when Aria held such a love for this woman, denied and denied again by the realities of her life. In that moment, Aria accepted she could not have both. She could not have her status and true love. She could not rule Omega and anyone else's heart. Aria made herself believe she could only have one or the other. Omega as a concept would never betray her, never let her down, never break her heart. Aria was Omega. So she believed, and she took action.

There in the bathroom of her loft, Aria murdered her girlfriend. But just before the kill, Aria melded with her. Specifically with that intention. Then she killed the eventual father of her child with her bare hands, leaving that violet blood collecting in the pool of her hot tub. That bloodied violet water stayed there, holding her girlfriend's corpse for the longest. Longer still as Aria stood in place, alone again. Not knowing what to expect with her daughter. Not knowing how she would behave or believe. Aria just didn't want to be alone anymore. Whatever else came from the experience, she would wait and see.

When Aria had her daughter sometime later, the experience seemed to surprise her every day.

In the beginning, Aria would just stay in bed at home, holding Liselle close to her. As small as Liselle was, Aria couldn't quite believe her eyes. She kept expecting Liselle to cry, to fuss, to make a scene at any moment. She never did. As calm as Aria was, despite her gentle surprise, her daughter remained the same, sleeping in her arms. The utmost sense of peace and quiet. Just the two of them in unity.

Once she grew into her toddler years, Liselle was a very giggly child. Even though Aria wasn't one for smiling, Liselle would just start giggling anyway from having her mother's attention. With her mother's scowling attention, Liselle would often lead the way in including Aria in her activities. Whatever her daughter wanted to do, whether it was reading or watching something together, Aria would just do it. She seemed hands-on without necessarily joining Liselle in her obsessions from one day to the next. More like that passive follower, quietly listening and participating, while letting her daughter set the agenda. Liselle would read aloud while Aria listened and followed along. Liselle would pick out the vids she wanted to watch, and Aria would watch with her. Liselle was the little boss in her mother's world.

Aria mostly stayed quiet due to her amazement with her own child's capabilities. Liselle picked up on reading, speaking, walking—sometimes running away giggling from her exasperated mother—and light biotic abilities from a young age. As a reward, whenever they went shopping, Liselle would point at whatever she wanted, and Aria would buy it for her, no questions asked. Right from the start, Liselle seemed to recognize that her mother was very powerful, so she enjoyed having this influence over her.

While sitting on her couch at Afterlife, Aria kept Liselle with her. She held her daughter just over her left hip, letting Liselle read or watch age-friendly vids on her omni-tool. Aria made sure to keep the club's music volume a bit lower, so as to not damage Liselle's hearing at that age. She would always let Liselle pick out whatever she wanted to wear each day, usually something warm and snuggly to keep her comfortable. While working on Omega's operations, Aria would gently gaze down at her daughter from time to time, looking over again whenever Liselle joyfully brought her attention to something. This arrangement was what inspired Aria to keep a stricter guard at her perch. She had her people stop visitors to scan them for this reason—to make sure no one tried to pull anything with her daughter.

Much to Aria's surprise, she never had any such incidents. Everyone on Omega—even her enemies—treated Liselle as an untouchable princess. They knew if they tried to harm the Pirate Queen's daughter, they would have hell to pay. But Aria knew to not let her guard down anyway. Whenever she would take Liselle shopping or out to eat, they had maximum security at all times. Guards posted inside the building, outside the building. Disposable guards to taste-test any food they purchased in case someone tried to poison them—including Liselle's baby food. A veritable motorcade of vehicles leading and following them whenever Aria would drive Liselle somewhere, anywhere. Her daughter's safety turned into Omega's biggest project. But Liselle didn't appear to enjoy it, strictly because all the planning and organizing took her mother's attention away from her, ironically enough. So she would pout, pulling at Aria's hand in hers, tugging; reminding her mother that she was still here. Each time, Aria would remember herself: picking up Liselle and carrying her instead, making her daughter smile that way.

To avoid the same social pains she went through, Aria decided to homeschool Liselle. Or at least she tried to. Liselle immediately rejected the idea. She wanted to go to school with other kids, and so Aria made the arrangements for her. Not only enrolling Liselle in school on Omega. Aria also made sure she had access to the classrooms, able to monitor her daughter's safety via camera surveillance. She then spoke to Liselle's teachers one by one, terrifying them with warnings over what would happen if they attempted to treat her daughter unfairly. Only after Aria was satisfied did she elect to drop off Liselle on that first day. As small as her daughter still was, Aria had to kneel down to speak to Liselle properly, on her level. She took the moment to look Liselle over, finding that eternal joy radiating from her child. In the background, Aria spotted a group of other kids waiting—from the school's new student orientation, Liselle was very popular with tons of friends already. The complete opposite of her own experiences.

Smiling brightly, Liselle reached up toward Aria's neck for a hug.

Holding back her emotions, Aria held her daughter closer instead. Closer than she normally would have.

Then all of a sudden, Liselle pinched Aria's cheeks, before skipping off to join her new group of friends.

It took everything Aria had to leave the campus; to go back home on her own. When she did arrive to her room, she discovered a letter on her bed. A very simple, handwritten letter from her daughter:

I'll miss you today. Every day I'm gone.

Love you.

Liselle hadn't addressed it to her mother, or signed her name, but she didn't need to.

Aria held the paper close to her chest anyway. Tears welling in her eyes, she wouldn't let them fall. She eased herself down to her bed instead. Lying there for a long while. For the handful of hours Liselle remained at school. And then Aria collected herself, returned to the campus, and waited to pick her daughter up. Liselle hurried out the classroom door as soon as she could. Bursting with joy as always, she ran up to her mother. She smiled up at Aria, standing on the tips of her toes as she reached up for her. And Aria picked her up, holding Liselle with a renewed sense of purpose. They went out to eat that day, with Liselle happily recounting her productive day at school. New interests, new lessons learned.

As the next few years went on, Liselle explored her growing love for dancing, acting, and playing musical instruments. Performing arts. She evolved into that all-around theater kid, a perfectionist. Putting on a show for everyone's attention—for her mother's attention; for the audience's applause—for her mother's pride and joy. But for those quieter expressions, Liselle continued writing letters to her mother. Sometimes emails instead. She didn't seem to want Aria to respond to her. Not directly. Some part of Liselle understood that her mother was broken, emotionally. She never held that against her. Liselle instead saw it as her duty to entertain her mother in the broadest sense: and Aria would always attend her music recitals, her theater performances at school. Aria never missed anything of hers. She would reschedule entire large-scale jobs on Omega if anything conflicted with her daughter's shows. So Liselle saw those efforts as her mother's way of saying the same—I love you, too—if not with words.

Although, Liselle inevitably tried to test the limits. Nearing her adolescent years, she began wanting her own money, her own credits to spend. Aria came close to just giving her the money right away. But she quickly found a teaching opportunity. Instead, she made Liselle earn her money. Liselle decided she would clean and maintain Aria's guns, along with the weapons and armor for her mother's people stationed at Afterlife. Glad to be useful, Aria's daughter developed a good eye for keeping guns and armor in perfect shape. She enjoyed keeping things in order, earning those praising smirks from her mother. And the credits, of course, to spend on clothes, shoes, music, and whatever else caught her eye.

Around this time, Aria noticed that Liselle was still insanely popular at school. All but a physical copy of her mother by now, Liselle really only differed from Aria in her personality—more easygoing and girlish; more visibly attentive and curious with her passions and interests. And that bright, eternal joy of hers.

"So how do you feel?" asked Aria one day. "Having to deal with all that attention at school."

Liselle shrugged. "I just assume everyone's infatuated with me. I don't take them all that seriously. The more they work for my attention, the more I know they're fake and full of it. Pretty predictable by now."

"What you're saying is—you don't let yourself get close to anyone?"

"Not really… I can never trust if someone wants to get close for the right reasons. I'm protecting you."

Aria nodded in approval. "That's wise. Keep it up."

In reality, though, Aria remained the center of Liselle's world—for other safety reasons. Liselle would continue writing her mother those letters every so often. She remained closer than close with her. She never bothered dating anyone, either, quick to grow bored with others and their shallow attempts at impressing her. In a non-romantic way, Liselle seemed to believe that no one could compare to her mother's status and power and greatness. Objectively, she just couldn't see any outsiders impressing her. Not when her own mother had Omega and an entire town on Thessia in the palm of her hand.

In her own ways, Liselle was too fixated on 'fixing' her mother to pay attention to anyone else.

But once Liselle's university years approached, Aria insisted on sending her away. Away from Omega and off to Thessia instead. As devastated as Liselle was over her mother's insistence, she obeyed anyway. She went to the same military school her mother did. Liselle lived in the penthouse Aria had built in her snowy hometown, as that testament to her legacy, commuting to school as necessary, even though she couldn't stand the cold weather. Liselle put in the work to become a commando. Even though she wasn't as strong of a biotic as her mother, Liselle more than made up for it with her weapon proficiencies. She became that ruthless killer, among the elite of the already-elite asari commandos: the finest warriors in the galaxy. She remained driven by her mother's continued distance, pushing her away, more and more as the years went on. Aria's surface reasons: she didn't want Liselle too involved in her life on Omega, rife with danger and crime around every corner. There was always more unspoken.

Aria really didn't want Liselle turning to crime. Not after what she had done in her youth. Not after what could've become of her. Irony and all, the Pirate Queen of Omega wanted her daughter to stay squeaky clean as a law-abiding, upstanding citizen back on Thessia, away from Omega's cutthroat drama. Aria had never told Liselle about her past with her own mother, and she had no plans to change this. And so over the years, Liselle's letters and emails to Aria grew increasingly desperate. Angry. Resentful. Always emotional. She felt Aria using her squeaky clean existence as some way to make up for her own shortcomings. Her mother had dumped those responsibilities over her shoulders—for validation. The only reasonable substitute, in Aria's eyes, for actually missing her daughter while the two were apart.

Liselle retaliated at first by stopping her letters.

Aria grew heartbroken over it, but she never said a word. Never admitted her true sorrows.

For well over a century through Liselle's life, she couldn't accept this change. She refused to believe her mother wanted to be so cold-hearted toward her. Surface-level jealousy: Liselle couldn't stand to hear news of her mother dating someone. Because Aria would never email her about it, never communicate the news to her directly. Her mother would never explain that so-and-so was part of her life now—along with offers to meet this mythical person. Liselle had never asked whatever had happened to her father, only to learn the rumors that Aria had murdered her. The facts didn't bother her. It was Aria's silence.

So Liselle kept to her duties as a commando. She took out her aggression on her targets, honing her skills day by day. She would get stationed here and there and everywhere throughout asari space. Traveling seemed to help Liselle forget about how pissed off she was at her mother. Yet every time she returned home to that penthouse, Liselle remembered. She couldn't keep forgetting anymore. She tried dating and relationships, only to also remember how easily bored she was by other people, and quickly abandoned that tactic. Sticking to her military assignments seemed to be the only reliable method she had left. But even that reminded Liselle of her mother. Everyone forever saw Aria in her for too many reasons. How they looked just alike; how effective they both were in battle, even if they didn't fight the same. She couldn't escape the reminders of her mother unintentionally abandoning her out in this cold.

By the time she reached two hundred years of age, exactly, Liselle realized she couldn't go on like this. Around this time as well, she heard the rumors that her mother was with some turian biotic on Omega. Nyreen Kandros. A military veteran from Palaven. But Liselle couldn't really care about this person. Liselle had not heard from her mother about her birthday. No message, no gifts sent over, no letters, no apologies for her absence. And on that night of her two hundredth birthday, Liselle sat at home, staring out at the veranda, tears falling as the snow fell outside. She chose to stay alone and not celebrate with friends, because she had pushed everyone away. They had certainly tried to call, email, and message Liselle throughout the day. But she only ignored them. They were not Aria, calling to apologize for nearly one hundred and fifty years of distance. They were not her mother, emailing to explain why things were so wonderful in her childhood, only for everything to spill out to this frozen silence in the years since.

Aria had never missed Liselle's birthday. Not once. Not even after sending her away all those years ago. The only explanation Liselle could think of was this turian girlfriend of hers. Taking up too much of her mother's time all of a sudden. She couldn't know if this was the truth, but it somehow felt correct.

A vindictive part of Liselle began to scheme, just to make herself stop crying.

So she turned her attention to Nyreen—looking her up online, trying to find out more about her.

Still not out of a genuine sense of care or curiosity. Burgeoning hatred, everlasting jealousy.

Liselle's worst instinct was to just outright ruin their relationship. She imagined popping up on Omega out of the blue. Maybe dressing up as her mother out of spite. Finding Nyreen; breaking up with her on Aria's behalf, obviously without her mother's knowledge or permission. But Liselle couldn't possibly commit to this, no matter how badly she wanted to. She knew she wouldn't be able to survive the guilt after the fact. She cared about her mother too much to hurt her. Yet she still didn't know what to do.

Browsing random vid channels, Liselle found a number of human-inspired programming for the evening. Several cheesy Christmas movies showed that night. Liselle had no idea what this holiday was, though she recognized the similar lights to the ones outside in town. This extra research took her negative energy away, replaced with the positive discovery that her birthday was on Christmas. A supposedly joyful holiday for humans back on Earth. And Liselle remembered how much her mother adored her joy.

Smiling through her tears from these cheesy holiday vids, Liselle sent out a few emails to people on Omega. One to Ahz, her mother's salarian tech specialist. Bray, her mother's newest batarian lieutenant. And one to Jarral, an asari who used to serve as a commando with Aria centuries ago.

To: Ahz – I need a favor.

Ahz,

Is there anything you can tell me about my mother's girlfriend? That turian woman. Better yet, can you bug my Mom's loft so I can hear their conversations? I have the worst feeling. Doesn't help that I haven't heard from her in a while. Could you help me out? I'd appreciate it.

-Liselle

.

From: Ahz – Re: I need a favor.

Liselle,

It's great to hear from you again… Happy Birthday, by the way.

As for Nyreen, well, there's a lot I could say. They've been together for a little while now. Maybe a couple of years? Your mother's always been drawn to military types. Not those obnoxious ones. More like ones who have an unflinching respect for the rule of law. I suppose you could say Nyreen is like that. But I wouldn't exactly call their union a perfect one. Kandros leans too hard toward "following the rules for the sake of it," which your mother despises. Aria needs more of a balance. She hasn't been getting it from this relationship. I can only assume your mother takes away other benefits from this in private.

They argue all the time. It's pretty exhausting and I worry for them. But you didn't hear this from me.

I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. I'm sure you'll contact the others soon, asking them the same thing. They might give you more information. Just…don't leave the house tonight. Stay where you are. As for the other thing you asked for? I almost had a heart attack! You know I'd normally do anything for you…

Just don't make me bug your Mom's loft! She would find out right away. No questions asked! Besides, I barely started working for her at this capacity. I can't take any risks like that! Not even for you! Please!

-Ahz

.

To: Bray – Question.

Bray,

If I randomly showed up on Omega one day, would you have to tell my mother?

-Liselle

.

From: Bray – Re: Question.

Liselle,

I can already guess what the birthday girl's scheming. The answer is yes. I'd have to tell Aria. Then again, she'd know the second you left your homeworld. If you even breathe outside that penthouse of yours, Aria knows. We have eyes on you at all times. So don't even think about doing anything stupid.

Just stay home and be patient for now.

-Bray

.

To: Jarral – Years ago.

Jarral,

I'm betting you already know I emailed Ahz and Bray. They both told me to stay home for some reason. I just wanted to ask you about this. You served with my mother as a commando back when you two were my age. I was wondering if you knew of any stories about her past. My mother never told me why she bought up every business in town, left for Omega, then came back and built this giant penthouse. Do you know anything about her family? How she grew up? I wish I knew these things about her.

Anything you could tell me would help out a lot. Anything. Really.

-Liselle

.

From: Jarral – Re: Years ago.

Liselle,

Well first off, Happy Birthday, kiddo.

Second, the guys did tell me you got in touch. I was kind of waiting for you to ask about your Mom's past. Eventually I knew you would. The thing is, I don't have all the answers myself. Just what I've heard in and around Thessia. Your Mom's not exactly keen on talking about her past, either. What I do know for sure is that she never got along with her own mother. Your grandmother got sent to prison for abusing her. There was another reason she got arrested. It was in the papers at the time. I've attached the story for you with the exact date and year it happened. I encourage you to do some digging to find out the rest.

My advice? Take your time with this. If you hurry and look into everything all at once, Aria will find out. No telling what her reaction might be. Try and take things one day at a time. You'll find the answers.

Please keep being patient with your mother, too. She's trying her best for you. I promise she is.

-Jarral

.

Still teary-eyed, Liselle opened Jarral's attachment. Sniffling every so often, she read over the article about her grandmother's arrest. The abuse and neglect, having left Aria in a frozen house with no heat or electricity. The alleged pawning of stolen valuables from the rich asari she dated. Both had landed her in prison for several years, while Aria was sent to military school. Liselle sensed that this story might've been incomplete, as she couldn't see her mother accepting the abuse without retaliating in some way. Just as she herself had considered retaliating moments ago: Liselle's impossible plans of getting back at her mother, by breaking up with Nyreen on her behalf. She imagined Aria had done something similar.

Liselle made a few notes to herself about the incident. She would use the exact date and time as a reference point, asking for details at that pawn shop, the prison her grandmother had served time in, as well as the military school she and her mother had both attended. In time, she hoped to have answers.

The time didn't seem to bother her, either.

As long as she had this to focus on, Liselle could stop holding onto her anger. She just wanted the truth.

Liselle then snapped her attention to the front door.

Aria walked inside, letting herself in. She looked thoroughly annoyed, holding a decently-sized gift bag in her hand. But once Liselle hurried over, beyond surprised to see her, Aria quickly softened her image.

"Sorry I'm late," she muttered. "I was…arguing with someone. I'll deal with them later."

"It's okay," forgave Liselle. She felt especially pacified because her mother rarely, if ever apologized for anything. But Aria chose to make these exceptions for her.

Even still, Liselle watched her mother hover in place. Uncertain if she should embrace her or not. Or just not knowing how anymore. Not wanting to draw this out, Liselle simply brought her mother along with her, over to the couch. As they sat down together, Aria tried to stall some more, glaring at the TV.

"What is this vid you're watching?" she questioned. "It's so ridiculously cheesy. Tawdry. I can't stand it."

Liselle laughed softly. "It's about Christmas. You know, that human holiday where they give presents? I never knew what those giant pine trees on the Citadel were for. My birthday is on the same day."

"Right, makes sense," conceded Aria, still not caring to understand. "Anyway, about your gift. I know you enjoy things that are practical. Things you can put to good use. But after two hundred of these birthdays of yours, I'm afraid I'm running out of practical things to give you. So I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind at all," promised Liselle, smiling wide. "I'm sure I'll like whatever you picked out."

Stalling one last time, Aria hesitated before offering the gift bag to her.

"Well…here you go."

Smiling more over her mother's gruff shyness, Liselle accepted the bag.

She gingerly moved aside the decorative wrapping, finding her mother's gift.

The moment her hand reached the soft texture within, those tears welled up again.

Liselle eased the gift out of the bag, finding a soft, well-made tiger plush. Overwhelmed with joy and gratitude, she held the animal's likeness in her arms. This coincidence with humanity didn't get past her.

"I love this," she praised. "It's so adorable."

Aria tried to explain, "I didn't know what it was at first. This tiger. Just that it looked like something you would enjoy. Now I know that it's an animal native to Earth. Humans sometimes call them big cats."

Giggling, Liselle held the plush beside her mother's face. "I think there's a strong resemblance. The stripes are like your facial markings. You're both really grumpy, too. Scary, sure, but soft deep down."

Watching as her daughter held the plush close again, Aria couldn't help her sentimentalities swelling.

She whispered out, "Liselle, no matter what happens…you're still my little girl. You're my goddess, my one and only. That's never going to change. I just—wanted you to know."

Eternally grateful, Liselle rested her head over her mother's lap. She took those words to heart, still holding the little tiger in her arms. They spent a while longer watching those silly Christmas vids. Aria obviously despised them. But she cared more about being here with her daughter. Liselle knew as much, and found herself counting her blessings. She could suffer her mother's confusing distance for another century and a half, and another, and another—so long as she knew she had this to look forward to. This as her mother's unconditional love and support, however delayed, however difficult for Aria to express.

Renewed with hope, Liselle found a new well to draw from for her patience, her persistence.

And over the next few years or so, she continued looking for answers about her mother's past. Finding information piecemeal so as to not set off Aria's suspicions, Liselle did put together a compelling set of facts. By the time Aria's relationship with Nyreen ended, Liselle learned that her mother had built this penthouse on the same plot of land as her childhood home. By the time Aria began fooling around with the asari councilor, Liselle had a strong idea of the true events surrounding her grandmother's arrest. By this point as well, Liselle could feel her mother's emotions more transparently, bolstered by the bond they shared as family. As disconnected as Aria had always been, Liselle could never feel her like this before. She could never get an angle on her mother's truest feelings or sensitivities. She'd simply had to play guessing games in the past, leading to hurt feelings and hasty conclusions and harsh resentments.

Liselle's resentments remained in some ways.

But they began to wane as she sensed Aria's plight with Tevos, the asari councilor. Liselle didn't think much of her mother's ongoing fling. Though she felt Aria creeping toward a trusting space with the most powerful asari in the galaxy. The longer they stayed together, the more Aria felt as if she had a place to belong with the councilor. Maybe she could stop holding back. Maybe Aria could stop being afraid of rejection, should she let herself get closer. Yet the moment Aria started feeling safe, Tevos decided to break up with her, not knowing any better. The asari councilor had simply assumed Aria could never give more of herself, making their union doomed to go nowhere. This was the "bottom line" from Tevos.

As Liselle sat at home one afternoon, she could feel her mother's anger radiating to Thessia all the way from the Citadel. When the news came on the vid screen, Liselle half-expected to hear about an altercation in the asari councilor's office, leading to her mother getting in trouble. But the actual announcement…was about me. My face there on the screen. The explanation about Torfan, what I'd pulled off there. Liselle watched the whole thing, enraptured. Enraptured by what she saw of me, what she learned of me; enraptured because she felt her mother's anger vanishing in an instant. Liselle knew nothing else about me other than what the news discussed. Yet she grew to respect me right away—while also recognizing that I was exactly her mother's type. She could only wonder what might happen.

Over time, Liselle began noticing a pattern with her mother. Ever since the news about me came out, Aria had stopped dating altogether. She also seemed much calmer lately—though that could've just been residual relief from not having to put up with relationship drama anymore. Either way, Liselle couldn't deny the obvious. And so she made an effort to keep up with my goings-on throughout my time in the Alliance. Coincidentally, Liselle ran into Liara more often around Thessia, offering kind words about her research or even just saying hello. Sometimes Liselle would want to bring me up, maybe to start small-talk, but she knew Liara didn't pay much attention to off-world events. Yet after enjoying the broadcast of my induction into the Spectres, Liselle soon learned that Liara had joined my team. These events surrounding me—Aria's abstinence and Liara's change of career—didn't escape Liselle's notice.

But then, around six months later, Liselle's birthday came around. Christmas came around. The same time the Collectors destroyed my ship, killing me along with some of my crew. Liselle was already on her way to Omega to visit her mother. Approaching Afterlife on the main boulevard, she hadn't yet heard the news. Though she found it strange Aria didn't meet her at the docks. She was just about to walk past the line of people waiting to get in the club—until she heard a sudden shattering of glass way upstairs. Liselle saw the chaise longue sofa from her mother's room barreling toward the line of people outside.

Aria had thrown the piece of furniture out her bedroom window in an uncontrollable rage.

Some people ran away screaming; Liselle conjured a biotic field, shielding herself and everyone else from the cascade of glass. And her mother's sofa.

Liselle used her biotics again, floating the sofa alongside her as she hurried inside the nightclub.

Up in the loft she shared with her mother, Liselle found the news on in the living room.

She watched as Councilor Anderson spoke to the press from the Alliance base in my hometown. He gave the announcement about the destruction of the Normandy. Holding back tears, he told the galaxy about my death. Puncturing his words, Liselle heard the sudden bout of fury from her mother's room. Leaving the thrown sofa in the living room, she rushed to find Aria as soon as she could. Liselle found her mother sitting on the floor, digging her fingertips against the floor so hard they started to bleed; surrounded by a mess of broken furniture, scattered books and datapads. Biotics flexing, glowing, leering, Aria lurched in place, heaving her enraged sobs. Spasms and shouting, she couldn't stop her heart from shattering so.

Liselle navigated the landmines of destroyed belongings in Aria's room, trying to reach her.

She hastened to kneel behind Aria, holding her from behind. Tightly, Liselle restrained her. Restraining her mother from destroying Omega if that would've distracted her from the pain. Quickly, Liselle reminded her mother that she was here. That reminder, this care from her daughter submerged Aria's rage into the depths of pure despair. She shouted out her crying through the broken window of her bedroom instead. But as high up as Aria's loft remained over Omega's boulevard, no one else could hear her. The station continued on its business, at most indifferent to Aria's suffering over my death.

Irrational as it was, Aria would remember this lesson once the plague hit a couple of years later.

For the final time, Legion's voice sounded in my head:

"Will you proceed?"

For both Aria and Liselle this time, I once again gave my only answer as yes.

A year and a half later, after living in a constant state of depression and destruction, Aria had a change of trajectory. She heard a coveted tip about the Lazarus Project. And so she started shedding her cycle of sadness, sadness, and more sadness. Liselle had stayed home on Omega with her throughout this time. Paul Grayson eventually found her. And Liselle started spending time with him, if only to learn more about his addiction—given her own grandmother's past. Aria had disapproved strongly, only for a Cerberus assassin, Kai Leng, to come close to killing her daughter. She'd killed him first, leaving Grayson to run off in the middle of all the chaos. All the drama forced Aria to wake up to reality. The reality that she had emotionally neglected her daughter for way too long. Especially during the years while I was dead, while Liselle had tried to comfort her mother, only for Aria to push her away sharply. But Aria realized she couldn't keep doing that anymore. Her first responsibility would always be to her cub.

Aria went back with Liselle to her snowy hometown. The warmer weather let them wear regular clothes, even as the snow continued to fall. They spent a long while walking around together past the bars, restaurants, and high-end shops illuminated in the night. The two talked, having a heart-to-heart. Aria went so far as to hold her daughter's hand, as a promise with more than words. She also made her spoken promises to Liselle, to work on their relationship. Aria finally explained the whole story about her past. Liselle knew she spoke the truth, as the information lined up with what she'd found out. She kept a smile on her face as they walked; as her mother finally gave the words she'd longed to hear.

Aria made herself admit, "I thought I was protecting you before. By sending you away. I see now that it was a mistake. You haven't been the same since I made you come here. I should've known better."

Liselle accepted all. "Looking back on everything you told me, I understand your reasons. I would've been fine with us being apart. I just wanted you to open up to me. To actually talk to me. To stop letting silence always be your answer. I can't stand it when you won't tell me something important. That's all."

"I shouldn't do that very often, if ever."

"Why not?"

"Liselle, I'm your mother. I'm not supposed to share my emotional burdens with you."

Gently, Liselle argued, "Okay, then do that with your friends. Except you don't have any. You never did."

"That's your reasoning?" questioned Aria. "All those years during your childhood, you felt obligated to take care of me? Then when I cut you off, I ended up damaging you. Traumatizing you. Is that it?"

"Yes! What else could it be?"

Somber now, Aria told her, "You did enough of that when you were born. The moment you first smiled at me, you took away my worst demons. You saved me from myself. It wasn't your responsibility to keep doing that as you got older. Then again, I should've recognized this sooner. You've never really gotten along with people your age. You couldn't relate to them. Maybe that's why they idolize you so much."

"Friends, boyfriends, girlfriends—whatever. No one's ever convinced me that they'll stick around long enough…" Liselle paused, thinking of me as a possible exception for her mother. After Aria's reaction to my death, she couldn't help wondering. "I don't care one way or another. I just want you to be safe."

"You don't care? You're supposed to have the regular, normal life I didn't have. No abuse, no crime, no hustling on your own just to survive. Just a peaceful existence. That's what I've always wanted for you."

"…I'm happy just being here with you, Mom. That's all I need. Not some other life… Just you."

Aria couldn't find it in her to argue against that.

Still holding Liselle's hand, she had them stop in front of one of the town's monuments. A frozen sculpture of some marine life native to Thessia, lit up in the night. They stared up at the art for a long while. Or at least Liselle did. Aria remained lost in her thoughts, troubled to no end. She stayed quiet.

"Look," said Liselle, smiling at the sculpture. "I never noticed these before. They're so pretty."

Aria suddenly felt the same after centuries of not giving a damn. "Yes, they are."

"It's like another family. Even though they're supposed to be in the water, they're out in the snow."

"Kind of like us, I suppose. I had one vision in mind for us. We didn't end up that way. But here we are together anyway. Somehow."

Liselle genuinely wanted to know, "Hey, do you get lonely by yourself sometimes?"

Aria gaped at her. "That came out of the blue."

"Just answer me!"

"Oh, fine… Honestly, until a while back, I never felt that way. I didn't have time to. But now I sometimes wish I could go back to the old days. Raising you as a child. Watching you grow up into the woman you are today. Now that you're all grown up, I guess I do feel lonely by myself sometimes."

Liselle frowned sadly, staring down at the snow. "Did you miss not being able to see me?"

This hesitation from Aria nearly killed the whole conversation.

She couldn't quite look at her daughter anymore, glaring off at the lighted trees glowing in the night.

After a painful moment, she managed to say, "Well, we were together for a while, after all. Those first fifty years or so felt like an eternity. An eternity I never wanted to end. So, when you were gone…yes, I did miss you. I missed you quite a lot. Every single day. I knew I should've just—told you. But I didn't."

Liselle pretended to scold her, "You know, you're way too charismatic to be shy. Talking comes naturally to you. You love to hear yourself talk. Except when I ask you these sentimental questions. Why is that?"

Aria seemed offended. "I love to hear myself talk? Are you throwing shade, Liselle? Or was that a read?"

Not expecting to hear those 'hip and new' phrases from Earth, Liselle gave her mother a funny look.

"What?" said Aria, defending herself now. "Isn't that what the kids are saying these days?"

Liselle covered her face with her hand, snorting with laughter. "Could you not?"

"Fine, whatever. Listen, the point is… Things will be slow-going from here on out. It's going to take time for us to get back to how we were. A long time. But I'm still going to do my best. You have my word."

Admittedly mischievous in her intentions, Liselle looked straight at her mother.

"I love you," she said, honestly needing to hear Aria say the words back. Finally. For the first time.

Trying to save face, Aria turned away. She folded her arms tightly, tautly. Liselle gazed down at her hand, her palm feeling empty of a sudden. Just like with her sentimental questions, she had always held back from doing this. From testing this. Liselle hadn't wanted to say the words out loud like this, only for her mother to not reciprocate in the end. This particular silence would've devastated her the most.

But of course, Aria would never let herself do that.

"I love you, too."

Beaming brightly, Liselle held her from behind. She rested her smile over her mother's brand, her ego over the back of her jacket. Aria settled her folded arms over her daughter's hold. Still refusing to turn around. Still trying to save face. Even so, Aria had found her greatest achievement in her daughter's happiness. She smiled in fulfillment all the same, eternally grateful for her goddess.

Back in Insomnia's regular core, in my apartment, I reappeared at home. I'd resolved the infection—staring out the windows, I saw the sky as normal again. Nearly dawn. Almost 7am, the morning's rays shining through to my quiet space. Not much time left before I had to quit the game. Indefinitely.

As I thought over everything I'd witnessed, I looked to the captain nearby. She had gotten up from the couch already. Folding the blanket. Setting her pillow on top. Putting her Alliance uniform back on. Even still, she moved with such a weight, a true fatigue about her. That pride in her standing stride, her meticulous nature almost shadowed that tiredness as an illusion. Knowing myself well, I knew better.

"I'm exhausted," she confirmed, smoothing down her jacket. "But I have to keep going. We both have to. We can't lose sight of who we are, either. We're ruthless enough to sacrifice anything for our bottom line. Just don't be foolish and do something reckless or stupid to achieve that. Remember who you are."

"I'll always remember," I promised. "Are you still jaded, though? About everyone else."

The captain remained pragmatic. "I won't compromise myself by making excuses for them. They can't just believe they can get away with anything and be rewarded for it. I think, after seeing Aria's life story…she's the only one whose 'imperfections' are acceptable. She's perfect in the sense that we accept her as she is, flaws and all. And so that makes Aria a goddess in our eyes. I'd say Liselle is, too."

"Then where do we go from here? How do we get our solution back for the fight against the Reapers?"

"Aria has to handle the rest for us. It's in her hands. She'll find a way to make herself our protector from now on. If it's right, it's right. She's strong enough for the job. I want to keep her close. Don't you?"

"Of course I do… I don't want her to be afraid anymore. She and her daughter will be safe with us."

The captain gave a promise of her own: "She'll know once she wakes up. That's all that matters."

With her promise, she merged into me, however temporary.

And I wished I could've gone to Afterlife here in Insomnia. To find Aria there directly. But I didn't have time left. As I quit the game, I left with a reinvigorated sense of strength and resolve—one I'd found outside of myself. This strength to be so much more than what I was. This strength in unity to be my best self, for the one person I trusted more than anyone else. Any one sentiment, any one person I could've possibly chosen by my own free will: to understand her, to continually accept her day by day.

Within my control, my mind and my heart were my own again.

No longer at the mercy of someone's influence, I knew I would never lose her.

My own capabilities determined by someone else's belief in me, someone else's devotion toward me—

My skills still mattered in the face of this, with her walking alongside me as two equal beings.

No longer losing my sanity, no longer losing my life if I lost her: she made me more than what I was.

More than a person. More than an idea. More than a mere belief.

And now, in the aftermath of her life's work, all I could think of was her, what she'd suffered, what she'd achieved:

These memories ached with the weight of tomorrow.

With this ache, I had woken up. I had found myself, not needing to fall apart without her. Not needing to collapse without her. I stood to lose much without her anyway. Yet I stood on my own with her. With my own control. With my decision to put her first—instead of that decision imposed upon me, as it had been twice before.

My independence. My sovereignty. My own free will.