"THE PATHS ARE OPEN. BUT YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE."
The voice echoed as oily black shadows crawled along the edges of his vignette. A painful thrum dug like ice picks into the base of his skull. There was so much noise that he couldn't think straight. His limbs ached as they were compelled by unknown and constricting forces.
He made his way forward, it helped the pain ebb. He had to keep going. He had to make a choice.
He had to…think.
The pain came back. It was tenfold, crashing him onto his knees. He clutched the sides of his head and shouted out in agony, begging for it to stop. It came from behind his eyes; from the center of his mind. He wanted to crack into his skull and claw the pain out of his brain with his own bruised and bloodied hands.
He retreated from his own thoughts, and the pain faded slightly. Like a leash, his mind could only follow what was guided. He was tugged away to follow a train of intrusive thought. He could not stray from its direction. It would only hurt more.
He accepted what came of them, thinking the same thoughts; the outcomes of these choices.
His lungs burned as he got back onto his feet, gasping sharply. He looked up and saw Earth. Debris and destruction flooded its atmosphere as the war raged on. Every member, every species of the galaxy was sacrificing themselves while he stood there, facing this last challenge.
The Reapers will pay.
He could control them. Stop them from wiping out the galaxy. The Reapers, synthetics, he could usurp their power. He would no longer be himself, but it would be a noble sacrifice. He could become a diplomatic figure between man and machine. Become the ultimate peacemaker. He could even make life better for organics through those newborn abilities. He could collect resources, protect them from dangerous phenomena, or even destroy corrupted organizations like Cerberus.
He could make organics stronger! He could separate the good from the bad! Make a new organic apex empire! One built from good people, one he could protect from all those who would regret trying to harm them! They would be destroyed and would be too turned into an instrument of justice!
It sounds so good already, and yet he also had another choice to consider.
He could synthesize them all. A perfect unison of flesh and metal. He wouldn't be able to see it, but a perfect galaxy where everyone is the same. No differences to fight over. No limitations to conquer. No friction between civilizations. Everyone would be on equal footing, mixed with the machines. They would all think alike. Be alike. Galactic peace.
Flesh with the efficiency of machines. Perfectly suited. Perfectly matched. Perfectly managed. Perfectly perfect.
And he still had one more choice.
To destroy the Reapers.
The noise in his mind burst louder and deafened him. Pain jammed into his brain like a metal spike.
Destroy the Reapers? How shortsighted! So much would be lost! All those deaths from cycles upon cycles of galactic genocide would be wasted! No justice would be served if the initial problem was never solved, it would risk the possibility of another galactic catastrophe like the Reapers! Not to mention destroying the Reapers would cause a galaxy-wide blackout! It would kill EDI, the geth! Legion's sacrifice would be in vain! It would cause only more harm.
Either of the other two choices was far superior! He would rather die nobly than be the cause of so much needless destruction in the pursuit of an enemy's extermination.
He moved forward, the pain fading away slightly. Which to choose? To control or to synthesize?
To synthesize meant no more future destruction, but he would die. And to control meant he would still be alive, somewhat. Though he would spend millennia after millennia managing organics, killing off bad people while protecting the ones he loved.
At that thought, he could only imagine the look on his friends' faces if they start seeing him as a massive reaper or some A.I. ghost like the Catalyst child behind him. It gave him a chuckle.
What would Garrus and Tali think?
Tali.
He was suddenly approached with a very different picture.
His quarian love. Alone.
She would watch as her bondmate became something so different, so much more alien than what they were to each other. He would ascend to a godlike status, appointing himself to protect her and the rest of the galaxy for as long as he was functional. She would eventually grow old and fade away like a perfect rose, while he stayed, forever and ever—a machine.
No. She—she needs me! his thoughts choked out, drowning out his physical pain. And I need her. I…I can't face the rest of eternity like that. I would have to find a way to help her live forever, to join me.
No. No, she wouldn't want that. I can't do that to her. I can't…I can't control that! I couldn't.
But maybe synthesis? He would perish, and she would carry out the rest of eternity as herself.
No. Not as herself. Everyone would be the same. They would be stripped of everything as they were. Tali would be robbed of everything that made her who she was. She would become just another cog in the everlasting galactic machine of self-preservation. He couldn't make that choice for her either.
I can't make that choice for everyone.
Destruction. He had to destroy them. It was the only way.
He lifted his legs and steered himself towards the large cables to his right. A new onslaught of noise and pain resonated from deep within.
THAT IS NOT A CHOICE. YOU MUST PICK ONE OR THE OTHER.
The voice dug deep beneath the bone of his skull, causing his spine to rattle against his shoulder blades. It almost felt like it was coming from his own mind. The pain was immeasurable and he fell to the floor again, shouting. But he realized that it wasn't the Catalyst's voice he heard.
It was Harbinger's.
And everything became clear.
He shouted again in fury.
"AND WHY NOT?! YOU GAVE ME THE CHOICE!"
MERELY AN EXPERIMENT. YOU ARE AN ENIGMATIC PUZZLE, BUT STILL A DANGEROUS PROBLEM. WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU HAVE RESISTED OUR EFFORTS OR HOW PROBABILITY HAS FAVORED YOU IN YOUR SUCCESSES. BUT IT WILL GIVE US DATA TO STUDY AFTER YOUR DESTRUCTION.
NOW CHOOSE ONE OR THE OTHER.
His burning lungs heaved for air through his sore throat. Only a few moments of breath was granted to him. He could feel himself slipping to Harbinger's will. The pain was too great, he would do anything for relief.
And the only relief he wanted was in his quarian's arms. He thought about them. He loved the way she would wring her hands when she was nervous, and how confident they became when working with anything tech. They were soft and warm and charmingly alien.
He would not be able to feel them again if he submitted to the head of the Reapers, he realized. The pain would be grueling, insufferable. But to lay in those arms again and look into those soft, glowing eyes. It would make it all worth it.
As he lay there in pain, he compared this to the Reapers. And despite all the loss he had suffered that night, all the anguish that has left its mark, Shepard lifted his head—then smiled.
You want to know why I've been able to do all these things?
THE INFORMATION MAY PROVE USEFUL.
"It's because I care."
ELABORATE.
"It's something you soulless machines will never understand. You harvest because you're stuck following ancient code, a dying direction. The Leviathans built you for a single purpose. But they didn't make you advanced enough for you to think for yourself, to help you realize that purpose is what you make it."
UNNECESSARY.
"To you. You don't care. But I do. I care for the people of this galaxy. I care that they should be able to live without fear. So the reason I have resisted your efforts is because I desire to, and I'll stop you because I want to. That's something that cannot be measured. No amount of data analysis can protect you from that."
With his words, Shepard found himself pushing upwards onto his knees. Every nerve ending in his body screamed at him in pain, but he still kept going until he was on his feet. He took one sweeping glance at the conduit to his right and conserved what little energy he had left.
"There was something your old friend Sovereign told me before we blew him up. And I think he said it best…
"'You exist because we've allowed it! And now you will end because we demand it!'"
The first step deafened him and the universe moved slowly. His hand gripped the Carnifex pistol tightly. Adrenaline cascaded through his spine and spiked his toes and fingertips. He couldn't hear anything, and for a moment, he felt what it was like to be spaced after the first Normandy was destroyed.
Quiet and alone.
There was only one clear voice in his head.
YOU ARE A FLAWED, ABOMINATION OF GALACTIC MUTATION. I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT YOU ARE. YOU WILL GO BACK TO WHERE YOUR PITIFUL "EVOLUTIONARY HERITAGE" BEGAN. YOU WILL KNOW PAIN SHEPARD, AND YOU WILL KNOW THAT WE WILL ALWAYS HAVE CONTROL.
In the deafened space as he jolted towards the conduit, he felt a burn in his back, and he felt ripped from one half of his brain. He threw his pistol upwards as his feet shot up the ramp. He was going into shock. He had been killed. The Harbinger had killed him. He was dying.
He was losing grip. Tali's face appeared before him, and all he could choke out were thoughts as his finger twitched on the trigger.
I'm sorry, Tali.
The glass cracked on the conduit, and his finger twitched again. Harbinger's screams were muffled in the background.
I'm sorry EDI, I'm sorry Legion. There was no other way.
The glass shattered and a round pierced the wires. Sparks danced across the floor.
I'm sorry everyone…I'll miss you, Tali. I hope you'll live happily. I love you.
Then an explosion. His vision went red, and he felt himself get swept off his feet as if he was nothing more than a crumpled sheet of paper. It sent him sailing backward from the flames. Pain sparked every nerve ending in his body, and he knew he was dead.
But his eyes stayed open. The Crucible began to emit an orange glow. The energy built throughout the station. Skyscrapers lit up like radiators and streets began to crack. The Citadel looked like it was about to collapse entirely.
Then there was a second explosion. It wasn't burning like the conduit. It was a cold explosion. It cascaded over Shepard's body and he could feel what little energy left in his cybernetic body was deactivated and sapped away.
And he knew that he had done it.
Everyone. They're safe.
I did it, Tali.
Then all he saw was black.