I am back one last time! Not to fear, though: there is more in the works! I do know that many of you want to see a continuation of the Technophiles series or some sort of spin-off or series of spin offs. Unfortunately, none of those will be forthcoming. Tere may be a few short stories, who knows, but most likely not, so don't get your hopes up.

However, to assuage any fears of the future, I will clue you all into my plans. There will be one more chapter of "Things Alliance and Imperial Soldiers are No Longer Allowed to Do" coming next week. That story's quite popular so I do hope you all like it, especially because a lot of people have been wanting more.

The next story, an idea I've had and have been planning out for a long time, will be coming within the next month-ish. You will like it. Again, this is not hyperbole: if you like Technophiles, I can pretty much grantee you'll like the next story. That I can promise you, so please do stay around until then. It's a big concept, and I now have the experience and confidence to make it work, plus a few beta readers and friends to help out. It's going to great.

As for this chapter, I've had this planned out for a while. Coincidently, there have been some people wondering on this topic, so I do hope you both like the chapter and that it answers some questions. On to reviews!

The Disquieting One: Unfortunately, no. I don't really know anything about Transformers. However, I can promise you a very epic crossover in the future, so please do stay tuned for that.

lucho406: Indeed it is. I hope you like the ending.

BonesofSmite: Thank you. I'm glad you liked it. Nictus and Angela certainly did... enjoy themselves, I'm sure.

Ghostly: Not yet, but it will come.

Dragon Blaze-X: I'm glad you died happy. Sorry for all the sugar.

MElee Smasher: Indeed. Imperial and Mass Effect technology together would be a nightmare for their enemies.

Colossus Bridger: Thank you very much. I'm glad you liked all of it.

valhalan guardsman: I'm still not 100% sure what you're saying. Sorry. I guess soldiers have nightmares, and the trauma still lingers on, but that's the case for all soldiers.

gods-own: Thank you very much. I can't wait to get moving and for all you readers to come along for the ride!

Madara95: Thank you very much. I appreciate all your long support. There most certainly will be crossovers in the future. Indeed, the next story will be the ultimate sci-fi crossover, so stay tuned!

Austin: I do like your ideas. Maybe I'll write a short story with a few of them if I get the time. The next story to come will be quite wonderful, and I can assure you that you'll like it. As for the Titans, it's really hard to say. The height of the Sears or Willis Tower in Chicago or whatever they're calling it now is about 1,450 feet for scale, so that's a very large skyscraper size. I would think that a Warhound would be around 100 feet and a Reaver probably slightly double that, or about 200 feet. I would say that an Emperor-class would be somewhere between 1,000 or 2,000 feet. A Warlord would thus have to be anywhere from 500 feet to 1,000 feet. Again, the issue with 40k is the scale is so large it's hard to determine these things, so this is just my best estimate. I'm probably going to get flamed by someone who gets way too much into the math, but I guess that would be my best estimate. However, ultimately, the writers, including myself, simply make Titans whatever size is most convenient for the story. I do thank you for your viewership, and hope you liked this story and the ones to come!

Doc43Souls: Again, thank you for all your work in looking over my chapters. For anyone else reading this, Doc43Souls will be a beta reader for my next story, so I will certainly have less typos, which is always a good thing!

Guest: Javik will be a highly-valued exhibit in Trazyn's musuem. There are worse fates, I suppose.

Warriorking22: Thank you very much. I understand that some things aren't everyone's cup of tea, but I do thank you a lot for not throwing out a lot of hate for something that's simply personal taste. Thank you very much for your viewership and review!

oOo

Epilogue

Sixty Years After the Reaper War

The constant, incessant high-pitched beeping of the heart monitor machine was the only sound in the room.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Nictus Faldros, his once-brilliant shining black plates now more of a dull dark gray, laid upon the rather thin and plain sheets of a railed hospital bed. The shining gold sun of Digeris shone down upon the bed, bathing the room in warm light. Apart from some dour plastic guardrails and a few flowers on the night table given by some well-wishers who gave flowers to every patient in the hospital, there was no ornamentation.

Nictus sighed to himself as he laid upon the soft covers of the bed. There was nothing besides the beep of the machine at his side. No music, no visitors, no nurses, doctors, or well-wishers. It was simply him, alone, in his hospital bed.

He had a disease of the liver, a common cellular mutation somewhat similar to human cancer. It made sense; he had lived this long after all, and didn't plan on living forever. Age would catch up to him sooner or later as it did to all people. He had survived the Reaper War, survived countless decades after that, and now his time was nigh.

He was dying. There was no pain. The doctors had put him on some very serious pain killers, and there was nothing but a comfortable, tingling numbness all throughout the length of his now old and decrepit body. Gone were the powerful muscles that had fought a war against extinction itself, gone were the shining plates and sharp good looks of his youth, and fading were the once-bright facepaint of his clan markings.

He had felt the symptoms and the pain of the disease beginning a month or two ago. He had been admitted into Pallindius's largest hospital (which wasn't much, all things considered). The doctors gave him about a year to live.

He knew that was a lie, even if they didn't. He was going to die soon, probably within the day. He did not care in the least. In fact, he embraced it.

It had been two years, two unsurmountable, miserable, lonely years of sorrow and suffering and pain since Angela, his wonderful, beautiful, Angela died. Gone was her smile, her laugh, her breath on his cheek, her loving gaze upon his face. Gone was the warmth of her body as it laid by his side every night, gone was her wonderful five-fingered hand entwined with his, gone was her scent, her feel, her look, and everything that made him smile. Gone was his love, and with it, gone was his happiness.

Angela had developed brain cancer three and a half years ago. Nictus remembered every agonizing second of it. The beginning symptoms: dizziness, forgetfulness, some loss of motor functions. He remembered its progress, turning the most vibrant, healthy, and lovely woman he'd ever known into a body that could do little for itself and a mind that seemed to come and go based on the day. He supposed he should be thankful that she (usually) remembered him, who they were, and all they had done together, but it was scant compensation to make up for the fact she was slowly dying in front of him every day.

He remembered taking her to the hospital every day. He remembered terrifying the Turian doctors there into figuring out how to give a human the best care they could despite his old age. He remembered when the frequent trips became a permanent stay.

But most of all, he remembered the end.

He remembered her laying on the hospital bed, emaciated and weak, hair a stringy and dead gray instead of the vibrant brown it had once been. She couldn't feed herself, couldn't get up, couldn't even see. Her vision, her life had been robbed, and Nictus tried for a year to be strong for her, but seeing her on her last legs, after the doctors had diagnosed her as terminal and past the date they originally gave for her death.

She had begun to cry, and looked around with blind eyes in utter panic as Nictus came to her side, subvocals singing out his reassurance even though he knew she couldn't hear them.

"Nictus?" she had sobbed. "Nictus, where are you? Nictus, my love? Where are you?"

Nictus had first held her hand, then, when that only slightly worked, he picked her up bodily with a strength he didn't know his old frame possessed and held her close to his chest as he had done so often for the past sixty years. She had calmed down instantly at the familiar contact, and settled into his chest with a comfortable sigh.

"I love you, Nictus." He remembered those words, and he remembered giving the same phrase in reply gently in her ear.

She died in his arms.

Now, as the warm sun of the planet he called home for so long shone down upon him, Nictus Faldros didn't particularly care for life any more. Angela wasn't in it. The past two years were utterly intolerable without the person whom he loved for so long.

All things died, and his death was a given in his current state. He welcomed it. He was simply thankful that death decided to take Angela before him so she didn't have to deal with years of suffering. His only hope now was that he would get to see here again somewhere beyond.

Nictus's eyes slowly started to close as if he were falling asleep. It was indeed a comfortable sleep, he mused to himself. The sun was warm, everything was numb, and he would be leaving this life for whatever came next.

Some part of his mind curiously noted what the sensation of dying felt like. He supposed it was different for everyone. Certainly, a battlefield death would be much different than this.

The beeping of the monitor machine got fainter and fainter. Nictus allowed the heaviness of his eyelids to close. His breathing slowed. He couldn't feel his body anymore, though he wasn't sure he ever truly could in the first place.

There was a light. It was coming towards him. He managed a small smile. So the stories were true. Interesting.

The last thing Nictus sensed of the world of the living was the flatlining of the heart monitor.

oOo

Nictus was standing in space. He didn't know how he got here. He didn't know how long he had been here. It simply was, as if it had always been and always would be.

It was not space as in emptiness- space as in outer space. The black of the void and countless stars surrounded him. He simply looked around casually as if he were taking in an everyday view. Somehow, it simply was just that. He was not surprised, though he thought he should be surprised. Ah, well. It didn't matter.

In front of him was a planet. He recognized it. Palaven.

The familiar swirling clouds and gray-green surface was obscured by a translucent cover of… things.

It looked like the planet was surrounded by clouds in space, their tendrils reaching out and waving into the void beyond. Nictus could feel whispers in a language that at first was unfamiliar surrounding him.

It took him a moment, but it hit him with the force of a wrecking ball: this was a mixture of Turian languages. Modern and common blended with old and unknown. It was odd hearing voices that were not the hushed whispers of doctors or Angela's sweet human voice.

Nictus continued to stand in space for an indeterminable amount of time. Minutes passed, or perhaps it was years. Nictus could not tell, and had no way of knowing.

However, he finally reached his conclusion with a sudden epiphany: these were the Spirits of Palaven.

This was the afterlife.

How interesting.

Nictus continued to stand there for more unknown time, simply staring and thinking in space. As more time passed, Nictus reached a conclusion.

This was not where he wanted to be. This was not where he was meant to be.

So Nictus started walking. He turned his back from Palaven and simply strode forward on an invisible bridge in space.

What time and sights there were here could not be described in a typical fashion. Nictus, while he did walk, simply was. He existed, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. While he knew he moved, while he strove for a destination, time passed strangely and thoughts did not come as they did when he was alive.

He passed by other planets, other suns and stars, the void of space his only companion.

Eventually, he found himself on the edge of the galaxy. He did not quite know nor remember how he got here. However, for some reason, it was ultimately unimportant. He simply shrugged.

In front of him was…

A wall. Nictus looked up. A translucent barrier, as if made of some sort of heavy gel, stretched up as far as the eye could see, blocking his path forward. How very interesting.

He had come this far, and now there was something inside of him that said he needed to continue. This was the way he was supposed to go, the path he was supposed to take.

With a deep breath of resolve, despite the fact he didn't need to breathe, Nictus stepped forward and slowly put his hand through the wall. He had been right; it was some sort of gel. It gave way to his hand. He smiled, and with another breath, he bodily stepped forward.

Nictus had no idea how long he walked through the strange substance. It might have been decades, it might have been hours. There was no way to tell. Besides, he had a feeling time worked differently…well, wherever this was.

Still, it was harder going than before. The gel slowed him down, and he supposed he would have been scared and claustrophobic if he were still alive. It was a strange feeling to be surrounded by gel on all sides, as if he were walking underwater with no idea how long he had been here or how far he had to go. However, he didn't have to breathe. He didn't have to eat. He was dead. There was nothing that could harm him and nothing that concerned him now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the light grew from intermediary cream to actual color. Nictus could tell he was getting close to…something. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why he was walking or where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to go this way.

With a final heave, Nictus stumbled forward, falling to the ground as the suction of the gel released him. Coughing, he shook his head to clear it and looked up, only to immediately regret the action.

His mind nearly broke right there. The sky was a psychedelic, mind-churning, utterly terrifying and insane combination of every color and no color at once. Whispers assailed his mind- not the comforting and simple whispers of the Spirits of Palaven, but mind-bending, completely insane gibbering screaming at him a thousand things at once. They promised him untold power and jeered that he would soon be found and devoured. They were designed to break minds, he realized, and nearly did so.

The landscape wasn't any better. It was constantly shifting, with nightmare geometry that did not conform to any normal or sane standards. As cracked volcanic rock became diseased flesh which became ribs then became some sort of fleshy, moist ground that sprouted tentacles became a frozen hellscape, Nictus started to cry. Nothing he ever experienced had been this bad, this insane, this… unreality. He was beginning to think he was in hell, and heartily regretted ever coming here in the first place.

He couldn't even describe it. There were simply no words created by people to depict this. Indeed, mortal minds themselves would swiftly go insane here. This place was foreign to existence and reality themselves.

With dawning horror, Nictus realized he was in full armor. He was suddenly clothed in his old Reaper War gear with his Phaeston rifle on his back. Combined with the voices, it meant… it meant… it meant this place was inhabited, and whatever was here was most certainly not going to be friendly.

In between sobs, Nictus risked another glance upward, then did a double take. Shooting skywards, a bastion of sanity and normalcy in the psychedelic-ness that was this place, was a great golden light.

Looking at the light seemed to calm Nictus's fears and restore order to his thoughts. He took a deep breath. He was safe for the time being. He had his weapons and armor. He could do this. All he had to do was simply follow the golden light to its source; that was where he needed to go. That was where he wanted to be.

Unfolding his Phaeston rifle from his back, Nictus began his journey. He walked ever forward, keeping the great golden ray of light in his sight so as not to be driven insane by his surroundings. Strangely, when he looked at it, the whispers in his mind seemed to die down- another curious side effect.

He passed through thousands of ever-changing landscapes, all utterly horrifying and ruinous in appearance. Nictus did not want to see them, did not want to think about them, but as he tightened his grip on his weapon and tried to keep the light in sight, his peripherals caught sight of oceans of blood and corpses, of disease-ridden jungles with plants of flesh, of churning landscapes of psychedelic crystals, of porous, skin-like wastes, of barren deserts of rock, of mountains upon mountains of corpses from a thousand different and unrecognizable species, of lakes of fire and mists of void black.

Nictus was constantly on alert, his senses attuned and the skills he learned from his time in the military coming back. The terrible time when he was a runner on Palaven, when everyone in the battalion besides Angela was slaughtered came to mind, though this, here, was infinitely worse. Nictus scoffed to himself. He had once thought nothing could be worse than that, yet here he was, being proven wrong.

At times he would pass a few rotting, putrid human corpses, moaning in pain, that would try to rise up and crawl towards him. He did not shoot them, did not stop, only jogged forward and put them out of mind. He didn't know what they were, how they were here, what happened to them, or what would happen to him if he stopped. All he knew was the golden light and his rush to get towards it and be done with hell.

Gradually, he got closer until what had once been a thin, distant beam was now a shining bright pillar that nearly took up the entirety of Nictus's vision. The distant sounds of battle echoed through the distance. Nictus frowned. What was this?

However, before he could take another step, a horrifying, deep growl sounded behind him. Nictus whirled around.

Silhouetted against a now blackened, broken, ashen ground was an utterly terrifying monstrosity. It seemed to be made of shadow and fire, a hideous beast prowling on all fours with taloned claws nearly the size of his forearm. Molten lava dripped from an elongated snout with far too many fangs to be healthy. Nictus's eyes went wide. He slowly took a step backwards.

As he backed away, the beast - the demon growled again and paced. Nictus inched backwards until the creature let out an ungodly shriek that echoed through nightmares and charged.

Nictus was a soldier of the Turian Hierarchy, who fought and survived the Battle of Palaven and one of the horrific campaigns within. He was well trained, extremely experienced, and was above being afraid in combat, but when the demon charged, he ran.

Sprinting across broken ground, breath pounding in his chest, Nictus flew towards the light and away from this thing that he knew he couldn't fight. It was far more horrible than any of the Reaper constructs or the skitarii of the Dark Mechanicum in the war long ago. Simply its cries were enough to nearly drive him mad.

It was gaining on him. Nictus whimpered in panic. Even his limbs and muscles, once more young and at the peak of physical condition, couldn't outrun this monstrosity.

As he scrambled over a short ridge of blasted and ashen rock, Nictus suddenly found a tall, fortress-like wall of solid gold before him. It was about three or four times his height, a bastion of normalcy sticking out in the middle of a blasted wasteland of ever-churning insanity. Made of what seemed to be solid gold with a strange whitish aura, it was perhaps the most welcome sight Nictus had ever seen.

There was no one manning the walls. However, directly in front of Nictus was a small door, large enough to fit a single person through, guarded by…

A Custodian.

Nictus had never seen the bodyguard of the Emperor of Mankind in person before. However, they had shown up on Earth during the Reaper War and he had been married to an Imperial for over six decades, so he certainly knew of their existence and what they looked like. The man in front of him could be no one else.

Over nine feet in height, with incredibly ornate golden armor carved with the symbols of the God-Emperor of Mankind, red plume in place and massive spear in hand, the Custodian did not even look at Nictus as he desperately barreled forward. Instead, the golden-armored warrior simply stepped forward, leveling his guardian spear.

Lungs burning, feet and legs aching, Nictus tore forwards towards the door in the golden wall and salvation. Behind him, the demon shrieked as the Custodian engaged it. Bolter fire sounded behind Nictus. He didn't look back, though from the sound of things, the demon seemed to be in trouble. The Turian couldn't help a small grin at that.

Finally he was through. Dropping to his knees, breath coming in huge, gasping heaves, Nictus finally allowed himself to relax since coming to this awful, awful place.

Catching his breath, Nictus looked up, only for his mandibles to go slack and breath leave him once more in sheer awe.

He seemed to be standing inside some sort of half military encampment, half walled city. The almighty golden light encompassed all, shooting up high into the sky from a huge palace-like fortress in the distance. In the distance, golden buildings of the typical Imperial style stretched forward in by far the most beautiful city Nictus had ever seen.

As far as the eye could see, the walls stretched around the compound and into infinity. Kilometers of empty land stood between the fortress walls and the city on the hill. Millions, if not billions of soldiers milled around in them. All wore Imperial uniforms. Countless Cadians, Steel Legionnaires, Mordians, Valhallans, Vostroyans, Minervans, Harakoni, Catachans, and thousands of other uniforms Nictus did not recognize all lounged around or stood in formation, readying for battle.

And a battle they would find. Off to Nictus's center-left, far in the distance, was the direct center bastion of the main wall. Apparently, he had come into this still-unknown place from a tiny side gate.

The main wall was manned by thousands upon thousands of Space Marines. All stood high atop defensive fortifications, firing down into the press beneath them with wanton abandon. They too represented thousands of different chapters, with dozens of different types of armor and countless heraldic symbols Nictus had never seen before.

In front of the gate, stretching into infinity, taking up the entirety of the twisted, blasted, corrupted horizon that had not been touched or tamed by the golden light, was an endless army of daemons. They put the creature Nictus had run from to utter shame. Some were as large as houses, some even as large as Titans. It was a literal continent-sized army of the most hideous and foul creatures Nictus had ever seen laying siege to this sanctuary in hell. Even from this distance, where he couldn't make out details, they made him want to vomit in disgust.

However, they were being held back by the almighty, equally endless firepower coming from the Marines on the wall, plus…

Plus…

Plus…

Directly in front of what seemed to be the main gate, an entire army of Custodians stood against the endless tide. Even from a distance, their fight, their every movement, were utterly breathtaking. Despite being outnumbered millions to one, they still managed to repel the tide, golden armor flashing in the golden light they defended. But that wasn't even the most impressive part.

Leading the Custodians were three giants, towering even above the gene-forged warriors' massive heights. One wore armor of solid black with silver trim and wielded an utterly massive hammer in his hands, blowing back hordes of demons with every blow. The second wore armor of solid gold, decorated with Imperial aquilas, as his chainsword flashed forth, bisecting demons with every blow.

And the last… The last was an angel. He flew high above the battlefield upon wings of pure snowy white, sword and spear in hand, swooping and slicing even house-sized daemons as if he were simply swatting flies.

The sight of the three stole Nictus's breath once more. He couldn't make out the details of the battle, but those three, the leaders, seemed to be everywhere at once, slaughtering everything that came across their path. Nictus simply stared, amazed.

As his mind gradually caught up to him, he suddenly wondered where he was. What was this place? He… he was still dead, right? What was going on where he was in some golden city where countless Imperial soldiers fought endless hordes of besieging daemons?

Was this… The Imperial afterlife?

Nictus's gaze finally fell directly in front of him, and all other thoughts were swept aside.

She was there. She was there. Standing in front of him in her old Steel Legion uniform, her brown hair luscious once more and drawn up in a ponytail, her face as glowing and youthful and beautiful as ever, wearing his markings, his red and white flowering markings, was Angela. She smiled down at him: that warm smile of pure love reserved for him and him alone.

Nictus was already up, his trek forgotten as he sprinted towards her. He collided with her at full tilt as wrapped his arms around her in the largest hug he had ever given in his life. She was laughing in pure joy as he picked her up and spun her around, his subvocals blaring triumph what would have been a nearly obscene amount of joy and love had he been around Turians who could hear them. He didn't give a damn.

"Nictus, Nitcus, Nictus," she repeated, laughing and crying in wonder and delight. Nictus himself was purring at this point to the point that human hearing could probably pick up the noise. He held her close to his chest, lifting her bodily as if she weighed nothing as he kissed her again and again. He felt like an over-excited varren, but, once more, he didn't give a damn.

Angela was here. Angela was here.

"I missed you," he said as he rubbed their foreheads together. Everything that made her her, her scent, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice and laugh, was here. It was her. She was once more in his arms, and everything was alright. "I haven't seen you in years. I missed you so much," he confessed.

"I missed you too," she replied. "Nictus, my love." Her beautiful sparkling eyes looked up at him once again, stopping him in his tracks. "I missed you a lot." She wrapped an arm around his head and brought him down for a kiss; a human-style kiss, mouth-to-mouth. He enthusiastically responded.

They were so engrossed with seeing each other once more neither Nictus nor Angela noticed the newcomers walking up to their open and deserted section of the interior wall. It was only after one of them coughed that they broke their kiss and looked up.

They were surrounded by Imperial soldiers. All of them seemed to be different, and all of them seemed to be some form of Stormtrooper. There were ten total, and Nictus managed to pick out one Inquisitorial Stormtrooper, one Death Korps Grenadier, one Kasrkin, one Steel Legion Stormtrooper, one Harakoni, one Valhallan, and two different types of Tempestus Scion uniforms he did not recognize.

There were also two soldiers wearing strange uniforms he'd never seen before. They looked like a cross between an old-fashioned metal and cloth human diving suit he'd seen once and the normal Stormtrooper armor he was used to.

All of them held weapons in hand, and all of them stared up with blank faceplates at the embracing pair. They were led by a Space Marine, wearing bulky gray armor of a style Nictus had never seen before. The insignia upon his shoulder was a wolf, though not the snarling side-profile wolf of the Space Wolves; instead this wolf was a frontal-profile head with slitted eyes, surrounded by a crescent moon.

The Marine had a horizontal brush crest over his helmet, marking him as an officer of some sort. That was simply further confirmed by the chainsword at his belt. Painted on his armor, in tiny font, was a single name: Torgaddon.

Without second thought, Nictus spun Angela around and put her behind him, throwing his own body between her and the Imperial soldiers. She made a sound of protest at this: they were partners, both soldiers, and she would stand beside him instead of behind him. Nictus paid her no mind. He was her husband, and it was her job to protect her. Always. A group of unknown Imperials who had just seen her kiss an alien most definitely counted as a threat.

However, the Marine only tilted his armored head at the gesture, seemingly amused. Nictus's body was bursting with energy, his fight-or-flight response ticking in his chest. Would they have to run? Could they fight this many Stormtroopers and a Space Marine?

The Marine in question, Torgaddon, simply crossed his arms as he looked down at the pair.

"Well, I think that puts to rest any questions," he said, amused, as he looked over the various Stormtroopers. They shuffled and looked back up at the Marine, then to Nictus who still stood nervously in front of Angela, protecting her. Nictus was surprised at the amount of good-natured humor in the Marine's voice. He expected it to be deep and growly, unemotional and commanding. Instead, it was more like the voice of a good friend or trusted teacher.

"What… What do you mean by that?" asked the Turian, finding his own voice. He was still wary about this entire situation; he knew most Imperials did not particularly care for aliens, especially those that seemed to be… well, dead for a while and not part of his own galaxy or reality.

In reply, the Marine only laughed, a genuine friendly sound.

"Ah, well some of my friends here were rather…well, unsure of you, a xeno," he replied. The Stormtroopers shuffled again. "But, as you just proved…" The Marine gestured to Nictus bodily shielding Angela from any harm that might come her way, "You do indeed belong here. You are one of the few aliens throughout ten thousand years or history that truly selflessly loves a human without any hesitation, tricks, or other deals. You are a protector of the Emperor's people, and we certainly do recognize that."

Nictus flushed slightly at the sincere praise. This wasn't about winning over humans; this was about Angela. He would indeed do anything to protect her, whether the Marine officer liked it or not.

"Ah, but where are my manners?" asked the Marine rhetorically with a theatrical gesture. Nictus found it slightly odd that a super-soldier was this…animated. "I am Captain Tarik Torgaddon of the Luna Wolves," he said with an elaborate bow. Nictus nodded in reply. He'd never heard of the Luna Wolves. "And you must be Nictus Faldros," continued Captain Torgaddon with what was certainly a grin behind his helm. "I've heard a lot about you." Nictus's eyes bulged as he took in the statement. His body relaxed and Angela, slightly annoyed but still defiantly by his side, stepped from behind him. She took his hand, entwining her five fingers with his two, daring any of the Stormtroopers to disagree.

"You've… You know me?" replied Nictus, shocked. Torgaddon laughed; a sound of genuine amusement and friendliness.

"Indeed I do," he said. His helm tilted again, and Nictus could feel a warm, nearly fatherly gaze coming from behind it. The Turian was briefly amazed at how expressive a man in full armor could be. "Ours is a galaxy of strife and war," continued Torgaddon, gesturing to the endless legions of daemons assaulting the Custodian lines. "We are all born to fight and die for our species. The aliens of our reality would not hesitate to destroy or enslave us. There is no peace amongst the stars here; only endless war. We can trust few, and few truly find happiness- even if they do, they are assailed by memories of eternal war. But you…" His gaze became gentle as he took in the Turian/human duo in front of him. "You love a human so deeply, so selflessly that you would have given anything for her. You begged the Emperor to protect her. You crossed the lines of realities that even the Dark Gods of Chaos cannot breach to be with her. Yes, indeed, Nictus Faldros, you deserve your place here, in what is known as the Imperial afterlife: the small part of the Warp under the Emperor's protection."

The Stormtroopers snapped to attention, drawing up their rifles as if honoring a coming dignitary as Captain Torgaddon bowed to Nictus. Drawing himself up, the Marine gestured for Nictus and Angela to follow him.

"Welcome, then, Nictus Faldros, an alien who so loved one of our people that you have proven beyond any shadow of a doubt you belong with us." He gestured to the huge golden beam emanating from the huge palace beyond. As they began to walk, Nictus wrapped his arm around Angela as she leaned into him with a grin. It was odd being the only Turian here (so far; there might be a few more coming), but Nictus didn't care in the least. He was with Angela, and therefore he was happy. It was a law of life as unchangeable as gravity or inertia. "We await you, and your tale. And remember… The Emperor protects the faithful. Always."

The End

oOo

There we have it! I've had this planned from the beginning, and that is why I've had Nictus and Angela here all this time. I know some might be asking about what happened to Shepard, Tali, Garrus, and other characters, so I will tell you this: they lived happily ever after. They're old and alive, with kids and maybe a few grandkids on the way, in a galaxy of peace that they helped to build. Honestly, you couldn't ask for more.

I hope you liked my interpretation and depiction of the Imperial afterlife. I've always thought of the Emperor and all his countless warriors as protecting the souls of humanity in the Warp. Tarik felt like the right choice for meeting Nictus there; too bad I couldn't write more of him. I also hope the fact that Nictus's love for a human so impressed the Emperor, the Primarchs, and their advisors enough that he got a spot under their protection came across well and as emotional as I wanted.

I also do hope you all liked both the chapter, the story, and the series as a whole. I cannot thank all of my readers enough. Each and every one of you, even if I have no idea who you are, were wonderful. I could not have asked for a better readerbase. I thank you all for your reviews, your support, and all the times you've read my stories. I hope you enjoyed them all, and hope you enjoy the coming project!

One last time for Technophiles, I always do appreciate any comments, questions, criticisms, concerns, and reviews!

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