Silence filled the Crucible chamber. Catalyst was staring, emotionless once more, at Harbinger's twisted remnants. Shepard, however, was staring not at Harbinger, not at the broken Everest, but at the limping figure now swooping down towards them. The Normandy was coming, and that set a fanfare racing in his mind, not to mention a burst of adrenaline coursing in his veins. He turned, raising his pistol to Catalyst – it could do nothing, but it felt good. And then, quite suddenly, the little star-child's form had changed. Shepard's own face was staring back, the same blunt jaw, the same swept hair, everything but the eyes – the eyes were cold, dead, emotionless...
"You cannot kill me, Shepard," Catalyst mocked.
"I can kill them," he scowled, nodding to the battle outside. "We might not kill them all, but we'll make it easier for the next cycle..."
"Illogical," his own phantom replied. "We offer you immortality, and you throw it away for pride and certain death..."
"There's nothing 'certain' about it," Shepard growled. "That was your mistake – organics aren't predictable, they can't be controlled..."
"Our thralls say otherwise..."
"Better dead than husks like them..."
"We shall see..."
"No," Shepard snapped, anger finally boiling over – every ounce of hatred, every ounce of vengeful aching in his soul... "You're done! I've got nothing more to say to you!"
Silence filled the air, as Catalyst, still wearing Shepard's body, retreated along the platform, once again uttering no footfalls on the metal floor.
"No, wait..." the Commander muttered, reconsidering.
"A change of heart so quickly?" Catalyst mused. "You're easier to break than I imagined..."
"Oh, it's not a change of heart," Shepard scowled. "But I have got one more thing to say to you, before you disappear back to where you came from... Run."
"Run?" Catalyst murmured, as if struggling to believe the mere mortal's arrogance.
"Run," the 'mere mortal' repeated. "And tell your Reapers to do the same – run like hell, because we're coming for them!"
"Hmm..."
With that little, cryptic sigh, Catalyst shimmered and departed, and Shepard was quite alone. The adrenaline faltered – his foe was gone, he could rest, but rest brought pain and the reminder of just how bad his injuries were. His crimson blood was still falling to the floor with quiet dripping sounds...
Moments later, the drips were lost amongst the altogether louder sound of engines. Shepard span around, and the fanfares began again – the Normandy hovered opposite to the great Crucible beam, filling the pristine air of Catalyst's chamber with smoke and dust and noise. As Shepard watched, dropping his pistol to the floor wearily, the faithful steed's cargo ramp slid open with a mechanical whirr, and three rifles clicked into place, aiming out as if ready to shoot anything that moved. The three shooters, however, found no targets, and Shepard almost laughed at the sight of them, aiming into thin air. Garrus, Kaidan, Javik – wait, Javik? The Prothean had been with him at the Conduit, had charged into hell with him, had taken the full force of Harbinger's attack! Shepard had assumed he was dead... But if Javik was alive, maybe she was too...
His energy renewed ever-so-slightly, Shepard began to stagger towards the ramp, as his three comrades ran down to help him, still covering every angle with their rifles as if invisible enemies abounded. Half-way to the ship, he stumbled, and dropped to one knee, then picked himself up and kept going.
"Shepard!" Garrus roared, as the three men's silence finally broke. "You alright?"
"I..." Shepard stammered, "Yeah, I..." He clutched a hand to his bleeding side, as Garrus dropped his rifle and ran to the Commander, looping one arm under his shoulder and propping him up.
"Where's Anderson?" Kaidan called, and for a moment Shepard didn't have the heart to tell him.
"Gone..." he muttered, finally. "Back there... the path's sealed..."
Kaidan swore, and ran past the limping figures of Shepard and Garrus, as Javik continued to survey the scene around them, aiming around with mechanical efficiency. Shepard was painfully aware of the blurring edges of his vision, of the pulsing sensation in his head as every heartbeat pumped more blood out of his wound. Somewhere behind them, Kaidan's footsteps returned, clattering loudly as he sprinted back towards them. The way to Anderson, it seemed, was indeed blocked. That sent another painful burst through his brain...
"Illusive Man's gone too," he stammered, feeling he really should tell someone before he died. Garrus' face creased with shock at that news – or as much as a turian's plated face could crease. "Tell Hackett... couldn't use the Crucible... Reaper trap... he needs to destroy this place..."
"Easy now, Shepard," Garrus murmured. "You can tell him yourself..."
Shepard nodded, feebly. "I'll hold you to that... we did it, Garrus."
"Yeah..." Garrus smiled. "We did."
With those words still ringing in his ears, Shepard felt the void pressing at his mind, and gravity took over. He slumped forwards, dragging Garrus with him, and crumpled to the ground on the Normandy's cargo ramp.