"Gods Bound by Rules" from NieR Replicant ver. 122474487139…

XCIV. Gods Bound by Rules

(Tali'Zorah)

All across Aht Urhgan Whitegate, the empire's capital, the imperial citizens had fully gathered in the streets. In their lingering shock over the news about the Flotilla, they watched my people file into the city. They watched in worry as the injured refugees continued on to the hospitals, escorted by the paramedics. They watched me hurry with Legion to the runic portal for our transportation across the empire. We needed to make it to the Alzadaal Undersea Ruins to oversee the empire's defensive system. Alexander, the ancient automaton of imperial legend and myth. Shepard had told us to go ahead without her. She needed to respond immediately as soon as Mammon, the devil ship, showed up.

Then, just before Legion and I entered the Chamber of Passage, everyone around us looked up in awe.

Above our heads, scores of our allied ships covered and darkened the morning skies. The mass of geth's ships. The handful of quarian ships from the Imperial Army. A good number of turian ships, spared to help Rannoch after mostly fending off the enemy on Palaven. Even more asari ships from Thessia: their massive vessels similar in design to the Destiny Ascension as a show of strength. Outnumbering them all, I spotted the familiar designs of the Alliance's ships. Their dreadnoughts, their flotillas, their fighters.

An incredible show of solidarity for Rannoch.

"Legion, look at them… Those are all our allies!"

"Yes," it said. "Shepard-Commander recently engaged in extensive negotiations with our allies. She asked them to help defend Rannoch. They were eager to assist. Only the Fifth Fleet remains at the Citadel, still undergoing repairs. However, the entire galaxy now knows about the creators here."

"The secret was bound to get out eventually. Rannoch and the Migrant Fleet have been ground zero for plenty of surprises these days. Anyway, we should hurry. Let's get to the lab in the undersea ruins."

Within the Chamber of Passage, devoid of any travelers passing throughout the empire, Legion and I took the runic portal to the ruins. Off we went through this darkened maze of brass and glass, the many windows open to the bottomless seas beyond. Aphmau had uploaded the correct coordinates to our omni-tools. The coordinates where we would find the engineers' lab where they rushed to get Alexander up and running again. They needed to activate the automaton before the enemy arrived.

On the way there, Shepard called us via our team's radio frequency.

I picked up right away. "Shepard, we're almost at the lab! Legion's still with me. Where are you?"

"I'm with Cortez on the shuttle," she answered. "If Alexander's supposed to protect the entirety of Aht Urhgan, then our battlefield won't be in the city. We'll be stuck out in the open rocky field on the empire's outskirts. It's better this way to keep the civilians safe. But it makes our job harder."

"And you're sure Mammon's headed for Aht Urhgan? Not Thavnair?"

"Admiral Hackett's positive the main force is headed our way. Not to where Liara and Samara are. They'll have an easier time defending Radz-at-Han. I'm not worried about that front. We've locked it down by sending our two strongest biotics with the Thavnairians. It's the Imperial Front I'm concerned about."

"I see what you mean. We'll be at a disadvantage out in the open, but it might be better this way. We don't have to divide our attention between two separate fronts. How will you approach the devil ship this time? Won't you be exposed in the shuttle with Cortez? You won't have anything to hide behind."

Shepard replied, "I will be, yes. Our thinking is, if Alexander's covering defense, the allied fleets can focus all our efforts on offense. They need to make a safe opening for Cortez to bring me closer to Mammon."

"Makes sense. If there's any way I can help, just let me know."

"I might need your help, Tali. Let me see what the situation is. For now, once you and Legion get the all-clear on Alexander, return to Whitegate's entrance. Head through to those outskirts. The rest of our team from the Normandy's waiting for you. Along with the Imperial Army, and Kal'Reegar with his marines. Everyone's locked and loaded. Hold the line with them. Make sure nothing gets past you."

"Okay, Shepard! Legion and I will get there as soon as we can. We'll wait to hear back from you later."

"Good. Now make sure that automaton gets up and running. Shepard out."

Inside the lab, we found hundreds of engineers, scientists, and machinists working together. Quarians and geth. Several of them ran around the spacious, underground facility—hurrying, sprinting, rushing. They ran everywhere across the multiple levels of this place. Up and down the stairs. Foregoing the elevators because they would take too long. Omni-tool lights beamed through the darkened facility, moving in-time with their forced exercise. Many other projects and trinkets off to the side remained abandoned, with all hands on deck working on Alexander. Working on getting the automaton online.

Legion guided me to the heart of the project. The very center of the lab, just beneath the very center of Aht Urhgan, far past Whitegate's borders. Ideally, Alexander would raise up from here—up through a mechanized opening to the empire's surface. I couldn't quite imagine how this machine would protect the entirety of Aht Urhgan. Even from here, I couldn't see the whole scope of the automaton's form.

Just this partial view of Alexander: like an armored mountaintop, most of his form shrouded by steam. A powerful centerpiece with two frontal arms to balance his weight. A jagged, intricate form that would soon emerge as a raised mobile, mechanized citadel in sheer size. A steampunk marvel—one of the empire's earliest inventions meant to protect these lands from dangerous invaders. Like the Reapers.

"Legion, do you know the origins of Alexander's name? Do other people on Rannoch know about him?"

Legion relayed the facts: "In many ancient creator languages, Alexander's name means defender of the people. He lives on in legend across the homeworld, often depicted in fairytales for children. Most notably as the guardian for the fictional Kingdom of Alexandria, protecting the citizens and the Princess of Alexandria from fantastical threats. Alexander has not been fully functional for several centuries, dating before the Morning War. Over the years, the imperial engineers have still continued to strengthen and improve his capabilities."

Even my automaton gazed up at Alexander in a deep respect. He was Chatika's final evolution, in theory.

Legion seemed to respect him, too. He was the geth's most powerful ancestor, having set the groundwork for our discoveries with AI technology.

I wondered, "Why has it taken so long for the empire's engineers to get him back online?"

"There are several theories. The widely-accepted belief is that, because Alexander is sentient, he will only activate when he detects a true threat to the empire. This is his Divine Judgment."

"But…wouldn't that be now? The Reapers are minutes away!"

"Yes."

Startling me, the sudden sounds of steam exhaled from inside Alexander's chamber. The mechanical equivalent of an organic flexing their impressive muscles, ready for anything. From all the cheering we heard from the engineers, I assumed this was it. I assumed the ancient automaton was all set to deploy. But even though he had come back online, the imperials still had one last thing to do. One last step.

The chief engineer held an old device in his hands. Some kind of recording mechanism. "The final step," he confirmed, trying to get the device working. "The sleeping giant is online, but now Alexander requires permission to do more. We need to play the password before he'll deploy for the empire's defense. This is an ancient safeguard to keep any bad actors from weaponizing the colossus for nefarious purposes."

Broken audio.

The recording only crackled out a few sounds here and there. Static, scratching. I could barely piece together what it said.

I looked to Legion and saw the helplessness in its stare. Its headlight shined on me in vulnerability.

Far more animated, the engineers and scientists reacted in fury. Fury, panic, chaos. They screamed about the empire's imminent demise. Millions of lives across Aht Urhgan's nations—the blood on their hands. Empress Nash'Meira would crucify them for this. They'd spent so much time getting Alexander functional, they'd forgotten to check that the device still worked. They should've restored the audio.

The chief engineer had dropped the old device, having run off by now in his shame. I picked it up from the cold floor of the lab. Trying to concentrate, I brought Legion in closer with me as we listened. I played the sound over and over again. A short phrase. Only a few words in a language I understood. I thought I understood more than that, too. I could've sworn I heard my voice through the harsh static.

"Legion, did you hear that?"

"Yes, Tali," it confirmed. "This creator's voice is nearly identical to your own. We theorize it is from your ancestor, Tahlia'Zorah. She was an imperial engineer who worked in these labs several centuries ago."

"Then she must have recorded the password. And if it wasn't her, then maybe it was an older ancestor of ours. Someone who happens to sound a lot like us…" Nearby, I spotted one of the few scientists not running around in a panic. I asked her, "Does anyone know what the password is?! The actual phrase!"

Dejected, the scientist shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Tali'Zorah… We just assumed the recording was fine. No one knows what it's supposed to say. A grave error on our part. None of us will survive this."

Already hard at work, Legion played the audio over and over again: "Cross-referencing audible vocalizations with our recorded databanks. These databanks contain words and phrases you have used, Tali. Compiling suitable matches." How thoughtful. Legion had memorized everything about me. Then its platform replayed words in my voice: "That's very sweet and everything, but we have to follow the rules. No gossiping about Shepard, and no telling Shepard about this chat in the first place. It's simple."

"Hey! That's from the team's chat. Our archives, anyway. I think that's from the first time we visited Shepard's hometown. I definitely wrote those words in the chat. I never said those things out loud!"

"We translate your written communications into voiced recordings for our databanks."

"Well, okay… You put emphasis on rules. Is that part of the phrase in the password?"

"Yes, we have verified a match," said Legion. "The final word of the password is rules. Continuing analysis of cross-reference patterns." It played another recording of me sighing at first, before speaking in a weary, exhausted tone: "I don't even know why you would see me as a threat. Even if Shepard's secret is bound to ruin everything."

When did I say that…?

I couldn't remember the exact context. Judging from my tone, I sounded downright depressed. This had to have been from before Liara returned to us. Maybe about a year ago. Then again, I didn't remember saying any of this in front of Legion. How did it manage to record me? Not that it mattered right now.

"So the next word is bound," I figured. "Rules and then bound? Is that the order?"

Legion clarified, "The correct order is bound followed by rules. There appears to be a gap in between these words. There is also one more word before bound. There are four words total in the password."

"Bound and then rules. Wouldn't it be bound by rules? With one more word before that at the start."

"Correct."

Tuning out the chaos around me, I listened to my inner voice this time.

Ignoring the clock ticking down, second by second, I tried not to imagine the worst. I tried not to imagine the Reapers destroying everything around me. Destroying everything before I could figure this out.

I remembered this phrase.

Not just from the library in Radz-at-Han. The books there. Not just from when Empress Nash'Meira had said it to me, during our first meeting together. The wisdom in her words. Somewhere deeper than that.

From a place I couldn't find anywhere on a map. Someplace within my very veins, rooted in this world.

Staring up at the massive automaton, I found him waiting for my revelation. Alexander, the once-sleeping giant, waited dutifully for my permission. Permission to fully activate and defend the empire.

So I said the words: "Gods bound by rules."

Stronger this time, that steam exhaled louder and broader throughout the chamber. Alexander's entire form lifted, the platform beneath raising the ancient automaton to the empire's surface. As he took center stage, the engineers and scientists cheered in relief. They praised this breakthrough as a miracle. The next step in a long history of imperial ingenuity on Rannoch. I started smiling, marveling over the moment, how magical this felt. I remembered a similar feeling when I'd managed to get my earliest creations working for the first time. This nostalgia had multiplied those accomplishments in my memory.

Still, we had no time to waste. I left the lab with Legion, taking the runic portal back to Whitegate. We had to head back outside to meet with Kal'Reegar and our team from the Normandy. I promised Shepard we would hold the line out there. However long it took for her to disable that devil ship's greed.

Hurrying through the city, Legion and I rushed to Whitegate's edge. Headed for the outskirts. Rushing, running to get to position with the rest of our team outside. We passed by several imperial citizens meeting peacefully with the refugees. They spoke on, listening to one another's stories: the mind-battered refugees seeking shelter in teahouses, their food and drink generously paid for by their new imperial friends. They gathered in droves across the city's central plaza, exchanging views and coming to shared conclusions about the roots we each shared as quarians, as one. This time of reflection and conversation had usurped the urgency of the moment. Trusting in Alexander's imminent activation, the imperials held no more fears or uncertainty for the near-future. Trusting in Rannoch's illuminated embrace, the refugees couldn't conceive of fearing anything else—more than they'd feared the Flotilla.

No one noticed this change up above.

The crimson seeping through the clouds.

The burning skies, precipitating that arrival. I had seen these same skies on Horizon, on Eden Prime with the Collectors. A similar hot-red contrast of temperature and light past the Omega 4 Relay. This old sight should've intimidated me. The end of the world. A creeping end past the show of strength from our allied ships up there. Yet I felt more determined than ever, running faster with Legion to the city's exit.

The only thing that stopped me…was a sudden glow of energy in the skies.

Stopping still, I squinted up at the clouds, looking closer.

There within the wide gap between our allied ships, I saw what looked like a collection of other vessels. Thousands and thousands of aged ships limping over Rannoch's horizon.

"That can't be… Keelah, is that the Flotilla?"

Legion confirmed, "It would appear so. They are retreating to the homeworld—without prior notice."

I wanted to call Shepard back right away. I didn't know why. I didn't know what I wanted. To suddenly ask if we could accommodate those traitors, giving them safe harbor from the enemy. To negotiate with Rannoch's leaders to allow them to land those thousands of ships. To maybe take the opportunity to arrest the admirals—except for Shala'Raan—and make them face the Council's judgment. Even our allied ships seemed to pause in place, not knowing how to react. They knew what the admirals had done. I needed to be reasonable about this! Why should we have allowed those war criminals to seek asylum on the homeworld? Why should we have allowed the two million quarians still aboard—the true believers, the ones who'd harmed and killed innocent civilians—to land safely down here? We'd already had an emotional show of getting the homeworld to accept the refugees. Getting everyone to accept these traitors would've been too much!

Before I could do anything, the afternoon skies blazed harder than ever.

I heard Shepard's voice through the radio. The harbinger of what awaited: "Tali…I'm sorry."

Shadowed behind the Flotilla, those larger demons surrounded the clouds. Scores of destroyers, capital-class ships—the darkened gleam of those near-impervious Reaper ships gathered, chasing their prey. The Migrant Fleet fled to Rannoch. Those horribly mismatched ships puttered and hobbled and staggered through the bleeding skies. Burning, smoking hulls, still in-tact and barely holding on. Already damaged, partially-destroyed—the Reapers had toyed with them on their way here. The Reapers had pushed them to make this emergency retreat. The Reapers had forced the Fleet into this worldwide humiliation. Broadcast to the entire galaxy now from the Alliance drones I spotted buzzing around.

We picked up on the Flotilla's frantic comms, the groaning of such tired steel echoing in the background:

"The Reapers are chasing us right to the homeworld! Our ships won't be able to hold! They gave us a false sense of security! They let us think we could survive! They let us get this far—sadistic bastards!"

"Someone call the Alliance! Call Commander Shepard! Or Tali'Zorah! Someone, please! Keelah—"

"Admiral Gerrel, kinetics are still down. Permission to retreat to escape pods!"

Grand Vizier Razfahd intercepted the comms: "Criminals of the Migrant Fleet, hear me! This is Grand Vizier Razfahd of Aht Urhgan. In the name of the Empress, you are hereby restricted from escaping the Flotilla! Should even a single escape pod come down to Rannoch's soil, the Imperial Army will shoot you down like the small-minded barbarians you are! The homeworld has no place for your kind. We've forbidden our allies from saving you. We won't bother sparing the resources. Your ships are your grave!"

Han'Gerrel, defeated: "Permission to escape…denied. Stay aboard your ships. Our fates are sealed."

A full barrage followed from all the Reaper ships behind them.

A full-blown humiliation of the Flotilla, lighted as infrared fireworks across Rannoch's skies.

The destroyers' firing chambers burst to life in that red. Immense, precise firepower cut through those ancient ships. Blasts from one ship rocked the ones next to it; staccatos of explosions shattered through the packed, tight-knit Fleet. The capital-class ships raised up, revealing their firing chambers beneath the arachnid-like menaces of their clawing arms. Stronger and far more destructive, those beams detonated the hulls of every ship in their path. The Heavy Fleet. The Civilian Fleet. The Patrol Fleet. The Special Projects vessels. The Liveships. The home ships we had all taken shelter in, finding our communities. The birth ships we all remembered. The birth ship I remembered as I watched the Rayya now, torn to pieces.

Our engineered survival across three hundred years, torn to pieces. Devastated.

Absolutely devastated as the Rayya suffered, as the Neema suffered. Both ships suffered the same fate. Both targeted with such sadistic precision, their mass effect cores targeted, detonating as pure light.

Pure light…nearly the same as the one around me. Across Aht Urhgan Whitegate.

I wished I were heartless. Lightless. I wished none of this affected me. I wished…I didn't feel my heart tearing in two as I stared up at this destruction. This final end to the home I once knew. The reminders, knowing Raan screamed and suffered like the voices I heard from these comms. Or maybe she had just…sat down. Quietly accepting her fate. Knowing she had made it to the homeworld—in penance. Now her ashes would touch down across the red-tinted rocky regions. Everyone's ashes in cremation.

Legion placed its hand over my arm, sensing my weakness.

We both heard the sobbing weaknesses from the other refugees around us. How they broke down in confusion, not understanding their pain. They howled and sobbed from behind their masks—some of them liberated without—with the imperials comforting them in understanding. We shouldn't have felt anything. We shouldn't have felt a single thing for those criminals, as the grand vizier had called them. As they were. Yet these memories pierced us. Just as the Reapers continued piercing through the Flotilla:

The place we had returned to every day, believing we would return to Rannoch someday.

Shaking my head, trying to stay steady, I felt myself about to break down.

Why wouldn't my heart hold for this? Why did my emotions come this close to pouring out for this?

For two million souls who had chosen to stay behind. For four admirals who had lied to us for years.

Even as I heard Liara's soothing tones, reaching me from Thavnair: "Tali…I'm sorry, too."

Then I heard the familiar sounds of the Normandy's shuttle overhead, landing nearby.

Stopping everything for me—stopping the whole world, lifting mountains for me—Shepard appeared. She jumped off from the shuttle before Cortez even landed properly. Ready for anything in her N7 armor, she prioritized me. She had found me here with Legion, knowing how much I needed her.

Shielding me from the rest, Shepard held me in her arms. I knew I should've held this in… I couldn't stop these emotions of mine falling freely down her chestplate. How she let me do this, protecting me from everything else around us; from the entire world rising up in rebellion against the invaders. The invaders we had prepared for; yet I hadn't prepared for them to do this to me. To me and to the rest of the refugees around us.

"It's okay, Tali. Everything's going to be okay. You hear me?"

Forever grateful for her care, I nodded against her chest.

Reinforcing her promise, the empire's defense system settled into place, just in time.

The epic of Alexander raised within the centermost point of Aht Urhgan's lands. Like a mountain raising up in the distance, the ancient automaton settled into position. An enormous machine: an armored colossus as a sentient, impregnable fortress. The full size of the mere sliver I had seen of this steel within the Alzadaal Undersea Ruins. The steam Alexander exhaled again sounded as his mighty breath. As our allied fleets opened fire on the Reapers, keeping up the fight, the empire took refuge within this majesty. The realized ambitions of the imperial palace itself raising up to protect her people:

Alexander's impossibly large, angelic wings took the empire in his calm, graceful embrace. His wings glowed in spectacle, tinted by the eternal light here in Whitegate. The empire's perfect defense worked. Divinity and machinery joined as one manmade, technological god—Alexander's wings shielded us from enemy fire. Those beams sounded as faint, distant echoes rolling out across our new sky. He brushed off the attacks from the destroyers and capital-class ships. Only Mammon's attacks could've breached his wings.

Joker contacted us: "Commander, we've got a visual on the devil ship! Looks like it's finishing off the Migrant Fleet. No idea when it'll head your way. We might have another problem instead."

Still keeping me in her arms, Shepard asked him, "What else is going on?"

"That automaton's wings are pretty solid. I'm hearing chatter about needing to protect Alexander as much as we can. Even from the smaller Reaper ships. If a destroyer gets too close, it could still do some serious damage. The imperials want us to burn the ships down ASAP. We'd need a coordinated strike."

I remembered: "Maybe I could help with that. I have a synching laser back on the Normandy. It's that project I was working on before. I can sync it up to our allied fleets for coordinated strikes. I forgot to bring it with me."

"Don't sweat it, Tali. We can, uh, send someone to deliver it to you. Is it in the armory?"

"Yes, I marked it properly. Thanks, Joker."

"No problem. Could we get Cortez to swing by? I'll send the laser your way on the shuttle."

Cortez said, "It'll take some maneuvering, but I'll find a path through Alexander's wings. Commander, should I leave without you?"

Shepard wanted to stay with me. If only to make sure I would be all right.

"You go on ahead, Shepard. I'll be fine. I owe the Reapers for what they did. Let me handle this."

"Understood, Tali. I'll head back to the shuttle. The team's waiting for you right outside the exit."

"Good luck…"

So reassuring, Shepard smiled at me. Then she looked to Legion, the two of them sharing a wordless understanding. Prepared to carry on, Shepard returned to the shuttle. Soon Cortez returned to the guarded skies, finding a path through Alexander's wings. For now, they went back to the Normandy to pick up my synching laser. Legion and I hurried on to the city's exit just nearby.

Outside the main gate, the rocky flatlands flattened the homeworld's horizon. I saw scores of the imperials—quarians and geth together—holding the line out there against the Reaper ground forces. The geth platforms sacrificed themselves in droves, keeping the enemy from harvesting the quarians. Anything to prevent the Reapers from…creating a new monstrosity: like the cannibals from batarians, the husks from humans, the marauders from turians, the brutes from krogan and turians as one. As the geth sacrificed themselves, the quarian soldiers pushed back with their powerful, heavy spitfire rifles, lighting up the battlefield in sparks of electric blue. The Imperial Army held the line at all costs.

Closer in the distance, Kal'Reegar and his marines provided support to the imperials: bolstering flanks and sniping from afar. The marines focused most on artillery strikes with long-range missiles provided by the empire. Staying at this distance seemed best. They took advantage of the clusters of brutes, cannibals, and husks together, stopping them from rushing the front line. Their suits made the ex-Flotilla marines much weaker than the imperials, comparatively. If they suffered any serious punctures, they'd have no choice but to stand back for medical attention—or retreat altogether. Yet the refugees fought with the same grit and determination, upholding their vows to defend the empire.

Legion and I found our teammates not far from Whitegate's exit.

Fully-armored and ready to go: Garrus, Wrex, Kaidan, and EDI stood watch together. They used the scopes on their guns to keep an eye on the battles in the distance. Only Garrus fired his sniper rifle, getting headshots on the occasional enemy here and there. Our team mostly stayed on standby.

Still in Thavnair, we missed Liara and Samara among our numbers.

And one other biotic I hadn't spoken to in some time…

"There you are," said Kaidan. "Looks like you two got Alexander up and running. This thing's huge… And it's keeping the empire safe! How'd they manage to keep something like this hidden underground?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I replied. "Their engineers are really something else."

EDI looked to me in thoughtfulness. "Tali, I wished to offer my sympathies about the Migrant Fleet. The Reapers are still…destroying your old home."

Glancing up to the skies, I found that scene repeating again and again.

The Reapers wouldn't rest until they reduced the entire Flotilla to ashes.

This left them open to coordinated strikes from our allies. Not nearly as coordinated as they could've been—with something like my synching laser. Still, we managed to do quite a lot of damage to the Reapers, taking a lot of heat off from Alexander. The turian and geth dreadnoughts beamed through the destroyers' firing chambers, cutting across in mostly-synchronized strikes. The Alliance frigates zipped across the skies, distracting the Reapers to get them into a more vulnerable position. The asari fighters took out the handful of harvesters flying around: they detonated those emaciated cores, sending blasts of heat waves across the already-hemorrhaging clouds. Meanwhile, the Imperial Army and refugee marines continued holding the line on the ground. I worried for the inevitability of these fronts colliding.

Wrex trudged over to me, asking in concern, "You all right, Tali?"

Remembering Shepard's care, I told him, "I'll be fine, Wrex. Are we waiting for the escalation?"

"Yeah, just waiting," replied Garrus, sending out another sniper shot, ringing clear across the field. "Those destroyers are gonna be over here soon enough. If not by Alexander, then down where the Imperial Army is. Our allied fleets are doing a good job keeping the capital-class ships tied up in order. The destroyers are too hot-headed for that. They're bound to break ranks and start heading our way."

"Okay, then I'll use my synching laser to help with coordinated strikes. Where is Jack?"

"Well, about that… She figured you wouldn't want her around for the fight. You know, on your homeworld. So Jack stayed on the Normandy. Looks like Joker asked her to reconsider."

Again the shuttle hovered nearby, this time dropping Jack off. Shepard stayed aboard, acknowledging each of us. We waved back to her, saluted her. As she and Cortez took off, heading back to the skies, Jack came over this way. She carried my project in her hands. Quiet and meek, Jack wouldn't quite look this way. She focused on the shotgun-like synching laser there in her hold. To deliver it to me now.

Wrex tried to cheer her up. "Look who it is. The psychotic biotic. Changed your mind about the fight?"

"No," mumbled Jack. "Joker wouldn't shut up about it. Kept saying how important this is. I got tired of hearing his crap." Avoiding my eyes, she handed the laser to me. "Here. This thing's fucking heavy."

"Thank you, Jack," I said, taking the weighty device in my arms. "Will you stay with us?"

She shrugged. "I guess. Not like I have a choice. I'm already here. What do you need me to do?"

EDI and Kaidan got her up to speed on the situation. As they did, I took a closer look at the battlefield. Garrus let me borrow his sniper rifle, giving me a precise view through the scope:

The Imperial Army and Reegar's marines really gave the Reapers hell out there. They hadn't relented after all this time. I imagined the enemy hadn't expected this kind of opposition—at least with our allied forces up above, and Alexander protecting Aht Urhgan in peace. Not to mention, the Reapers' morale had taken hit after hit throughout this war. They weren't nearly as powerful as they were on Palaven, or even Tuchanka. I felt this collective weakening from their spirits, their morale. The ground units moved slower; the enemy ships kept falling for easy tricks, getting caught out of position in costly strikes.

Once-invincible ships and ground units reduced to cannon fodder for our motivated troops and fleets.

All they had left was quantity over quality at this point. How they sent unit after unit, pouring across the battlefield in droves. Without enough morale, they had no reason to fight their hardest. Our victories had finally started catching up to the Reapers! For the first time, I felt truly hopeful we could win this.

We could win…

But at what cost?

As I returned Garrus' sniper rifle back to him, he seemed to notice the same.

"You sense it, Tali? The Reapers know they can't win this battle. They're throwing themselves at us. Our forces are slaughtering them! Wasn't like this back on Palaven or any of the other planets."

"I know… It's so strange. Why did they come here if they knew they couldn't win?"

Garrus reasoned, "Mammon's greed, probably. Or they're playing the long game instead."

Unwilling to give the appearance of weaknesses, the destroyers finally broke ranks from the sky.

One at a time, they descended to the battlefield. The Imperial Army flinched. They backed away, refusing to turn their actual backs to the enemy. Closer to us—much closer to Alexander protecting Whitegate—they held the line. They needed our help to push the enemy back. Those Reaper ground forces really did come too close—Jack had to activate her biotic field, protecting us from their gunfire.

Shepard ordered us, "It's time! We need to stop those destroyers from getting too close to the city. Tali, use your synching laser on those firing chambers. The rest of our Alliance ships are in position for coordinated orbital strikes. They'll fire once you give the signal. Jack, keep protecting her. Everyone else, keep up the pressure on those ground forces! Keep pushing that line back—away from Alexander!"

Fired up for our captain, the rest of the team pushed ahead. Wrex, Garrus, Legion, EDI, Kaidan. They went to reinforce the Imperial Army's line. Helping the ex-Flotilla marines to patch their flanks. Helping them get the line back where it needed to be. While they rushed on, merging into the thousands upon thousands out there, I synched up my project. I linked everything to the Alliance ships waiting in orbit.

And Jack stayed with me. She stayed with me, with Chatika, keeping up her biotic bubble against enemy fire. My automaton helped Jack where she could, acting as a shield pylon for her. Replenishing her kinetic barriers. Applying medi-gel whenever Jack needed it. Without any cover to rely on in this wide open, rocky field, they had to tag team to keep this going. They worked as a team to keep me safe.

Jack and I stared up at the nearest destroyer. It fired at the imperials down below, distracted in that destruction. The geth again sacrificed their platforms as shields for the quarian soldiers and marines. Staying focused, I lined up my synching laser with the Reaper's attacks. I timed my aim for when its firing chamber remained active. Its one weak spot. Honing in on that glowing red core, the final confirmation dinged from my laser—and in response, the Alliance sent down their orbital strike, synergized with me.

In an instant, the destroyer ship staggered low to the ground. Such a deep flinch of pain—if the Reapers could actually feel that physical sensation. Struggling to stay standing; its clawed legs couldn't keep the ship upright anymore. A single orbital strike was enough to take it down. The massive Reaper collapsed to the ground, falling over as a mini-earthquake, thick billows of dust rustling through the winds.

Jack nodded to me in praise.

I smiled at her.

She continued protecting me, shielding me through this sequence:

One by one, I guided the Alliance ships to take down these destroyers. Aiming at the firing chamber. Timing my shots for when they fired their beams. My mechanical orders rained down those orbital strikes, destroying the destroyers on impact. Immediately. All as Alexander continued to guard Aht Urhgan just behind me. He protected the empire's lands from the occasional beam getting through the battlefield up above. Jack took the utmost care to keep an eye on those beams. If any of them got too close to us, I didn't think she would survive the hit. I wouldn't survive. Not like with Liara or Samara.

We kept this going for what felt like forever, thinning the Reapers' forces considerably.

Again and again they kept throwing themselves at us. One after another after another after another.

Why did they keep charging headfirst into battles they knew they couldn't win?

Closer to the frontline, Kal'Reegar warned us, "Heads-up! Spotting a lot of movement from Mammon up there. I think it's finally headed our way! Shepard, if you're gonna disable that thing, now's the time!"

Cortez let us know, "I see it! Following behind from a safe distance with the commander!"

Soaring through the blood-red skies, Mammon's enormous form landed on the battlefield. Just as large as Satan, Belphegor and the rest, the giant ship pulsed in constant energy. Lightning bolts of the same blood-red converged around its impenetrable exterior. Showing off its invincible power, the devil ship shot its beam at the imperial soldiers on the field. Those quarians and geth disintegrated in the force of Mammon's might. Its firing chamber obscured to me, I couldn't aim at it for another orbital strike. Not that the Alliance ships could do much right now. Shepard needed to disable the Reaper before anything.

Arcing through the sky, Cortez maneuvered the shuttle around. All the way around to Mammon's back plating, there to the backdoor. As she jumped aboard the devil ship, Shepard gave her next orders:

"Kaidan, have our people on the frontline with you retreat to Tali's location! Fall back—now! Mammon's on a rampage. I don't want any of you caught in the fire!"

"Aye, aye, Commander!" replied Kaidan. Already I spotted him retreating with our team. "Full retreat!"

Kaidan, Wrex, Legion, EDI, and Garrus bolted in my direction. Jack paused her biotic field, taking a breather for now, as the Reaper ground forces had stop firing at us. We watched our team outrunning the madness out there—with Mammon on that rampage, knowing Shepard had boarded its insides, sprinting her fastest to disable its functions. She had activated her optical camera for us. Through my omni-tool, I spotted her blistering pace. How she rushed through the maze of the devil ship's interior, far more complicated than the ones we'd witnessed before. I hoped she wouldn't get lost in there…

Once our teammates reached us, Garrus, Kaidan, and Wrex caught their breath from the run. EDI and Legion stayed sharp, keeping a close watch on the battlefield. As did Jack. Mammon seemed to throw a tantrum out there, determined to kill as many imperial soldiers as it could. Killing and murdering and slaughtering while it still had the chance. Almost taking them down with it, knowing it would fall soon.

Shepard kept sprinting through that maze. She knew we believed in her. I believed in her.

In the meantime, I contacted Liara: "It's me. Are you still there? Checking on you and Samara."

"Yes, Tali, we are still here," said Liara, sounding winded. "Your timing is perfect. Samara and I just traded places. I am…trying to get some rest. I see Shepard is already aboard. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Jack kept me safe. I feel terrible about the imperials out there. This devil ship is relentless."

"Perhaps reckless as well. At least compared to before, defending against the Reapers has been much easier. I was able to last far longer without needing to rest. I am not clear if that's only because I've gotten stronger, or if the Reapers are weaker somehow. Weaker from the morale they've lost over time."

Wrex told her, "I think it's both, Liara. You and Samara are stronger. And the Reapers are weaker."

"You could be right. The Immortals have been able to put up a fight. Once we defeat Mammon, I have every confidence the quarian biotics will be able to hold their own. Even once we leave after the battle."

EDI shared my worries, "Despite the ongoing rampage, do you not feel this has been…too easy?"

Kaidan reminded us, "Let's not forget Alexander's putting in a lot of work. He's keeping the entire empire safe. And we've got Liara and Samara doing the same for Radz-at-Han. We have the advantage!"

"True," conceded Garrus. "Still, you've gotta admit—for the Reapers, this is all pretty sloppy. They're not on their game. Or is this what we're supposed to expect from now on? Are they really this weak?"

"No," insisted Legion. "The Old Machines have lost morale. Not their strength. This is…unusual."

Jack added, "Just saying—I haven't had to rest this whole time. Not that I'm doing the heavy duty shit like Samara and Liara out there. Something's out of whack. Something's off."

While she fought, Samara speculated, "It is possible that the Reapers wish to lure us into a false sense of security. In their greed, Mammon and its forces are to be mere sacrificial lambs, as the humans say."

We all went quiet, fearing the implications.

Just like every other time, Shepard reached the central location. She pulled down on those handles above her head. And, just like every other time, the devil ship faltered. Powering down, disabled, Mammon leaned to one side, its rampage finally ending. Shepard hurried back outside, giving her directives to our allied fleets. Once again, like the other instances, they would wait until she escaped to safety before firing. Firing their volley and destroying this next Reaper commander once and for all.

Then I saw it in the distance: Shepard's escape from Mammon's backdoor. She jumped down—all the way down on her own. Activating her Icarus Landing System, her augmentations forming that golden glow around her. Like a halo brimming beneath Rannoch's sunlight. Relieved, our team congratulated her via radio, glad she made it out. Then she dashed across the battlefield to a safe enough distance.

Right on cue, our allied forces decimated the devil ship. Blowing it up as the Reapers had blown up the Migrant Fleet. An eye for an eye. The Imperial Army's cheers rang out across the field, celebrating our victory. We had given the homeworld a fighting chance. Rannoch's forces still needed to push back against the remaining ships and ground forces after this. We'd made an easy war much easier for them.

Slowly but surely, as I stared out at the pyrotechnics of Mammon's destruction, my elation began to fade.

Why would the Reapers want to lull us into a false sense of security?

We had won this battle…but, again, at what cost?

I didn't want to diminish what Shepard had pulled off.

I didn't want to brush over her strength, her morale, her determination.

I didn't want to frown like this as our captain returned to us. Unharmed. Still in one piece.

Yet the rest of our team felt the same as I did—that our successes today didn't feel like a victory at all.

By the evening time, Liara and Samara returned to us from Thavnair. We waited for them near Whitegate's entrance, staying close to this dual view. From inside the city, Alexander's perfect defense remained over the empire, his wings still embracing the populace, keeping everyone safe. From outside the city, the blood-red skies had given way to the pleasant, dusty orange clouds at dusk. Our allied forces kept up the fight against the Reapers. The Imperial Army and the Immortals had quite a lot more work to do before they rid the homeworld of the Reapers. We had given them that fighting chance.

Shepard stayed with Liara and me, watching as the imperial citizens continued welcoming the refugees. Going through this ordeal together with the war, they had found an unexpected unity. They shared this safe harbor from the Reapers just outside. I hoped they could maintain this unity for the long-term.

Jack had already retreated back to the Normandy. I didn't really get the chance to thank her for protecting me. Or to apologize for being so cruel to her before. She and I had gone through this cycle many times before. We knew the limitations of our cooperation. Maybe we had nothing left to say.

With Reegar still in the fight, and Veetor finding work as an engineer for the army, I knew I would see them again someday. Once this was all over. I spotted Legion offering more support to the refugees, joined with the groups of other helpful geth. I wished we didn't have to leave the homeworld so soon. But I looked to Shepard, seeing the way she kept herself together after Mammon. I knew she needed rest. I knew she needed time to recover. If we stayed on Rannoch, the Imperial Army wouldn't resist recruiting us for their remaining counteroffensive. We couldn't afford to get tangled up in any prolonged conflicts.

Shepard needed time.

Perhaps more time than last time.

We at least had this time, these moments, reflecting on our time in Aht Urhgan and Thavnair.

How we had somehow pulled off the impossible: reuniting the Flotilla refugees with Rannoch's survivors. Even though it meant losing the Migrant Fleet. Even though it meant losing Admiral Raan.

From now on, the refugees had new leaders to look to.

Pretending to be just a regular imperial citizen, Aphmau found me one last time. With Ovjang trotting along at her heel, the empress-in-hiding gave me one of her playful smiles. Shepard and Liara noticed her approach in subtlety. They did their best not to draw attention to her, at least out in public. Aphmau couldn't risk anyone looking at her for too long, asking too many questions.

"I've found you one last time. I know you have to leave on the Normandy soon. I at least wanted us to say goodbye. And to thank you for all you've done. Your mission as a Spectre was a resounding success."

"Thank you as well, Aphmau. I couldn't have done this without you. What will you do now?"

"Monitoring the war from our situation room. My brother Razfahd will continue leading our army's Serpentking Generals. We will also ensure the refugees remain safe here. They're fitting in quite well. The empire will institute programs to find good-paying work and proper housing for everyone. We will protect them as our own." Aphmau noticed I still had that incident on my mind. That destruction. "I'm sorry about Admiral Shala'Raan. I heard the two of you were close."

"It's okay," I replied. "I'm glad the refugees have you as their leader. I know you'll take care of them."

"Of course, Tali. The marines have done more than enough to earn our citizens' favor. Our people will coexist as one. You've helped restore relations between the empire and Thavnair as well. For all you've done, you have my renewed promise that the Imperial Army will help take Earth back. I shall send my brother to the commander's homeworld to oversee Rannoch's contributions. It's the least we can do."

"I appreciate that. I'm wondering about you and Ahewann now. Isn't he still in Thavnair?"

Aphmau confirmed, "Yes, he is. Alive and well, thanks to Dr. T'Soni and Justicar Samara assisting the Immortals. I won't be able to see him again until his island is free from the Reapers. The prince won't want to leave his people until then. Promise you'll visit us after the war? We must have a celebration!"

"I'll be back once this is over. Absolutely!"

As we shared these hopeful smiles, I couldn't help thinking back to our first meeting.

My first audience with Empress Nash'Meira in the throne room. She had recognized me right away.

And in such an unconventional way.

"Aphmau, I just remembered something. When we first met for my mythic weapon, you seemed to know who I was. You recognized my voice. How?"

Glancing to Shepard nearby, she simply said, "You should ask your captain. She will know." Getting Shepard's attention, getting Liara's attention, the pair turned to us. Aphmau addressed us as one group, together: "Once the news about the refugees sinks in across the homeworld, they will be able to move about freely. Perhaps to their old home nations from before the Morning War. Rannoch is a land of endless possibilities, in no small part thanks to you. We will meet again after we win this war, together."

Aphmau bowed to us. I waved goodbye to her, as did Liara and Shepard. Chatika and Ovjang also gave their wordless goodbyes to one another. The empress-in-hiding then skipped off with her automaton, back to the imperial palace. Back to lead her people from her throne.

Liara was the first to ask, "What did she mean back there? About asking Shepard."

"Shepard, you knew about the simulations on the Fleet. How did you know they were simulations at all? Before Xen even told us. The two of you used the same term."

Looking between Liara and me, Shepard knew she had to tell the truth.

"It's because I used one of those simulations before. When Legion brought me to meet the old geth heretics. I used that same technology. It's how I met your ancestor, Tahlia."

Listening to her story, I could hardly believe it.

Shepard had met my ancestor on Rannoch several centuries ago. Through this simulation, anyway. She had met Tahlia's twin sister Aerie, too, and Raubahn while he still courted Tahlia. But only Tahlia had been able to interact with Shepard for some reason. They'd spent time together in Aht Urhgan. Touring Whitegate together. Talking at one of the teahouses. Seeing Alexander in his earlier stages. Not only that, but Tahlia had made a suggestion. A timely, practical suggestion that Shepard share her love for me…with the geth. As a way of rewriting their unavoidable virus, brainwashing them. Or not brainwashing them. I didn't fully understand what she meant by any of this. More than anything, Shepard had restored the geth's original love for us—their creators—through her love for me. She had shared this emotion with them as their Reason to exist.

Their Reason for such peaceful attitudes toward the Flotilla—even as the admirals had agitated for war against them.

Their Reason to help the refugees escape to the homeworld—even going behind Rannoch's back to make this utilitarian sacrifice.

Their Reason for Legion's love and care for me, too, as it glanced at me from across the way. So docile.

Shepard had no reason to lie about this. Though she'd had every reason to stay silent about it. Corroborating the story, Liara searched through Shepard's memories, on instinct, finding the same scenes. The same descriptions. The same truths there in the full light of day.

Shepard offered, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It just seemed like…"

I didn't need her to explain herself.

I didn't need to explain why I accepted these lies by omission from her. Even though I had not and could not forgive them from the admirals who'd raised me. Because I loved her and would always love her. I accepted her reasons as I accepted her.

I just hugged her again. Liara stayed close to us, completing this triumvirate I needed. The tectonic shifts in my mind. How they shifted again, even now, continually aligning my heart and my values toward Shepard and Liara. They had my endless devotion. My captain and my best friend. They had done so much for me on Rannoch and beyond. I would do everything I could to repay them for standing by me. Standing by me through prosperity and destruction. Lies and truth. Life and death. Pain and forgiveness.

Unconditional.