Reyllik Throngar IV, Last Emperor of the Protheans
To The Avatar of Vengeance
What are the Reapers? It's a question that many have asked throughout the long years of the War, and that no one has been able to answer and retain their sanity. Some have claimed that the Reapers are merely machines, out to follow directives given them by an ancient and unknowable master. This is patently false. No mere machine ever created has been able to so dominate the minds of all who come within proximity to it. No machine has been able to take an entire species and give it a new and terrible form.
Others believe that the Reapers are the agents of a galactic scale farming operation by beings outside the bounds of our universe, extracting a terrible harvest as a means of conforming to galaxy to some alien will. This is possible, but unlikely. While the Reapers speak of the Harvest, and while they do use organic and synthetic races as a means of reproduction, they do not appear to doing so in an effort to change how life develops. If anything, they seek to encourage the propagation of life.
The whispers that hit closest to the truth are those that speak of the Reapers as the elder gods, dark beings of power who arose from dark energy left behind at the creation of the galaxy. This, I fear, is closest to the truth. The Reapers are unknowable, unfathomable To even get close to one is to know madness and awe. Not even the strongest minds can resist their influence. Not even the holiest of priests can stand before them without kneeling.
I know what the Reapers are. They are fear. They are death. And they are coming.
It matters not what you believe the Reapers are. If you wish to be free, to retain your sense of individuality, you must fight. Fight for all that remains, for your family, for your friends, for love. Once I thought there was naught to the galaxy but power and strength, in proving the dominance of my empire over all other races. I was wrong.
In these, my last days, I draw strength and comfort from my family. From my second wife, who has stayed loyal even in the darkest storm. To my youngest daughter, who's laughter gladdens my heart as the Empire breaths it's last. We have long fought the Reapers, knowing their could be no victory. At least, not for us.
If you are reading this, Javik, my son, know this: Vengeance is not all there is to life. There is so much more. If you can, rebuild the Empire. Destroy the Reapers. End the Cycle. But if you cannot, then find a new race, a young one, not yet full of pride and arrogance Give them hope. Find joy in the laughter of their children, in the quiet moments of peace that they share. Teach them the ways of war. Show them how to stand with pride, and to fight with honor. Lead them to victory.
My prayer for you my son is this: when the last prothean breaths his final breath, that the Reapers will be no more. My prayer is that the meek shall inherit the galaxy, and it shall be you who gave it to them.
I know what is in your heart. You know only hatred, fear and anger. You are Vengeance That is good. The blood of our people cries out to be avenged. But do not lose yourself in this. Do not lose what made our people strong. It was not evolution, it was not ships, it was not soldiers. It was a child holding a flower on the palace steps as her father returned. It was a quiet moment with a mate where two souls became one. That was what made us strong.
Do not forget, my son. My avatar. My vengeance. Your people are dead. What we were can live on.