They came, like specs of dust angrily raging against a cosmic storm.

The struggles would be futile, as all struggles were, as all struggles ever would be.

There was no question of victory, or loss.

There was only the Cycle.

The extinction of Nazara had awoken Harbinger. A scream, too great for the pitiful mortals to even detect, let alone comprehend, echoed throughout the mass relays, echoed throughout the entire galaxy and beyond.

It heard. The scream contained everything. Knowledge of its machinations, its failures. Nazara was deserving of death. Any that failed were deserving of death: only perfection was permitted. The information was useful. Knowledge: the sabotage of the keepers, of the schemes of the leaders of the previous cycle. Most importantly, a Champion had already arisen, as one always did. But this one - this Shepard - had overseen the extinction of Nazara.

Consensus was taken, and it was decided that she was worthy. Her species was worthy, and would be Ascended. Unknowable engines and machines roared to life in the empty blackness, and great tendrils of dark energy flooded throughout the galaxy, focused by the Mass Relays, reaching towards and taking the mind of the Principal, dominating the Custodians. They were ordered to kill the Champion, and begin the Ascension within the Garrison. Harbinger approached the galaxy with the rest of the Ascended; the journey slowed because of the Prothean sabotage.

But she returned. With greater strength and determination, she returned, and had proceeded to systematically disrupt the Ascension, finally attacking the Garrison itself.

It cast off its body, too destroyed to continue fighting.

ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL

She was stronger, faster, than her form should allow.

Her attacks were ferocious, relentless, merciless. She was worthy.

Another body died.

YOU ONLY DAMAGE THE VESSEL

Her companions winced, fell to the ground clutching their heads, as its voice filled their minds. But the Champion did not stumble, did not falter. A red glow came from her eyes as she destroyed more and more of the Custodians, and it detected the familiar technology within her.

It felt the tiniest disturbance at its recognition of the fact. The organics were typically 90% harvested before they had consolidated remaining resources enough to experiment with the ruins of extinct Ascended. Nazara's extinction would lead to this cycle developing such technology earlier.

Greater opportunities for utilising the Dominance, but also greater strength for the organics.

It did not matter.

Ultimately, nothing this Champion could achieve would matter.

The Cycle would continue.

ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL


'Down!' Faith called out, slamming her back into one of the ledges that made up the insanely structured base, and ratcheting another heat sink into her shotgun. A huge, warping, biotic fire soared overhead, and she saw her teammates follow her lead, ducking into cover. After she was sure it was clear, she shouted out: 'Covering fire!'

Trusting her, the squad broke cover and laid down heavy, rapid rifle fire, pinning down the Collectors ahead of them, focused on the "possessed" one capable of wielding that immense power. She tapped her comm to life. 'Kasumi, are you close?'

'Nearly there Shep... it's getting hot though!'

'Keep at it! Garrus, status?'

'Most of the computers are destroyed, and we've been opening the way for Kasumi. Resistance relatively light so far.'

'Good, we're nearly at the door, Shepard out!'

She peeked her head over the barrier. The door was so close... but there was a substantial number of Collectors dug in around it. She needed to break that line.

'Grunt, front and centre! Jack, with him! Jacob and Samara, I want those Collectors dead, so that thing can't possess them. Leave that one for me, now move!'

With a roar, Grunt heaved himself past her position, glowing with a barrier Jack was projecting around him. While the Collectors took aim at the charging krogan, Faith knew that now was her time to move. She hauled herself up the ledge, and ran straight towards the glowing Collector that identified itself as Harbinger, firing her weapon as she closed the distance. Her shells lit up the thing's biotic barrier, the impact staggering it somewhat, and four swift steps had her engage it in close combat with a snarl.

Ducking over its wild swing, she planted her shotgun into its stomach and pulled the trigger. Its barriers could not stop such a blast, and viscera splattered from behind the creature, but it did not fall despite the enormous hole in its torso. It reached down with both hands, grabbing her shoulders in a vice grip, and dragged her up to its face.

IF I MUST TEAR YOU APART SHEPARD, I WILL

The horrific voice filled her mind, making her cry out at the intensity. She felt it pulling outwards, threatening to tear her arms off at the shoulders with an unnatural strength.

No!

Fighting through the pain, she raised one boot and planted it into the creature's gaping wound, twisting to where she hoped its spine was. She hoped that the monster had anything even resembling a spine, or that whatever was possessing it could not simply fight through nature's limitations.

The beast suddenly arched back with twitching limbs, dropping her to the floor where she swiftly rolled away.

A quick glance showed the battle still ongoing, Grunt tearing apart Collectors with his bare hands, Jack pulsing with enormous power just to his side, tossing the creatures aside like ragdolls, and she was pleased to see several of the creatures floating helplessly in the air surrounded by a blue glow, the work of one of her other squad members.

Turning back to Harbinger, she was forced to instantly roll aside again as it recovered and sent a fiery biotic blast her way. It impacted the floor where she had been lying, before ricocheting and heading right towards her.

Crazy plan... just might work...

She jumped to her feet and twitched the correct finger sequence into her palm, and the omni-shield flickered to life. The attack closed in, and with a cry she swung her shield into it, the orange glow shattering instantly and sending pain shooting throughout her arm.

It worked.

The ball of fire flew straight back towards Harbinger and impacted, and the creature literally exploded, splattering her visor with more of its foul innards. She wiped it off, catching a glimpse of her forearm. Her armour was twisted, warped and burned, and she could see raw, puckered flesh through one small section.

KILL ONE AND ONE HUNDRED WILL REPLACE IT. YOU CANNOT STOP THE ASCENSION

She spun back to the battle, fearful that one of the Collectors was left alive for it to possess again.

It was over. Grunt was standing, breathing heavily, literally coated in the horrific yellow liquid that was the Collectors' blood while Samara was waiting, looking as serene as ever, by the door as though fighting through an army of genetically modified super-bugs was no more trouble to her than strolling through a garden. Jacob and Jack looked in slightly worse shape, both slumped against the door with helmets to one side, pouring what she recognised as electrolyte-heavy juice down their throats to ensure they did not collapse from biotic exertion.

'Kasumi, we need this door open!'

'One minute, Shep!'

A familiar buzzing reached her ears. More Collectors were soaring down from the skies, landing further back from their position.

'Sooner if possible! Everyone, defensive positions!'

She pulled out her rifle, and took cover behind the barricades the Collectors were using just minutes ago, kneeling into the corpse of one.

She opened up with her rifle, accurate bursts popping the heads of the bugs like fruit. They were relatively easy to fight, until...

I AM TAKING CONTROL OF THIS FORM

'Dammit, we can't fight these forever, get this damned door open!'

Garrus' voice suddenly crackled to life.

'Shepard we've got incoming husks, and lot of them, looks like they were saving them up!'

Damn...

'Kasumi, time?'

'Not long Shep, it'll take me longer to start over if I move to Garrus now!'

'Shit... keep at it!'

Dammit... I have the heavier fighters... should have told her to start the other door first...

The Collectors were getting closer. Harbinger was driving forward down the right, and she focused fire on him, again ordering her squad to kill as many of the others as possible.

He was too close. There were still others in the room, but they were further back from the defensive position, so with a scowl she unshipped a grenade and looked to Samara.

'Get rid of his barriers.'

With a nod the graceful asari kneeled up, and raised a hand, twisting the air around Harbinger, causing him to falter, causing the biotic barrier to warp and eventually dissipate. Shepard tossed the grenade and it landed accurately at its feet, detonating a second later with a heavy whump.

'Door's open Shep!'

'Move!'

Standing and laying down a full automatic spray of covering fire, she heard heavy footsteps behind her; her team running for the doors.

'Shepard we're clear!' Jacob's deep voice rang through her comms.

She turned her back and saw her teammates firing around her, pinning down the approaching Collectors. She ran through the fire, trusting their aim, and the doors slammed shut behind her.

'Kas, get the other door, we'll deal with this!'

The thief hurried away, and Shepard immediately called up her omni tool against the door's controls. Without time for subtlety, she dropped the most powerful, destructive overload program she had onto it, causing the small computer to spray sparks and start crackling angrily.

'Get into position people, this isn't going to be pretty!' She took place just inside of the other door, and raised her rifle, breathing heavily. The others did the same.

'Shepard, we need this damned door open!' Garrus' voice sounded strained and heavy.

'Kasumi's on it, as soon as it's open, you get through, we'll cover you!'

The seconds passed with agonising slowness, the silence broken only by heavy breathing, the hum of barely withheld biotics and the curious electrical noises coming from Kasumi's omni-tool.

Suddenly, she hopped aside 'Now Shep!'

The doors started to slide open, and a horror greeted her sight. Dozens and dozens of shambling husks were slumping towards the crew members, who immediately began to press themselves through the still opening door.

'Open fire!' Her team's weapons lit up, tearing through the horrific abominations as if they were paper, but they did not falter their assault. Garrus, last through the door, clubbed one over the head before ducking in, and taking his position in the firing line.

'Shut the doors, Kasumi!'

The thief was already on it, when a loud pop sounded and she swore 'Kuso! Door's broken Shepard!'

'Shit!' Her mind raced, and she looked with despair at the huge, heavy doors, before an idea came to her. 'Biotics, pull those damned things shut! Samara and Miranda left, Thane and Jack right! Everyone else, keep shooting!'

The air filled with raw power as husk bodies began to build up at the bottleneck, and the sound of tortured steel had Shepard clenching her teeth. She slapped a new heat sink into her rifle, and saw with despair that though the husks were thinning at the veritable wall of bullets and grenades, several Collectors were appearing at the back ranks, opening fire above the teeming mass towards the doors.

'Jacob, tactical barrier!'

The man ducked to one knee, dropping his weapon, and held out both arms, generating a chest high sheet of biotic energy the team could take cover behind, but still shoot over. It was a maneuver they had practiced many times.

The doors began to shift with a terrible squeal, and Collector rifle fire splashed across Jacob's barrier.

'Not much further!' The door had closed to a level where only two people could fit through, and only Shepard, Garrus and Grunt were still firing through the small gap.

With a final, horrific tearing noise, the doors were slammed against each other, and all was silent.


'Creator Zorah?'

Tali froze as she reached down to take the piece of engine Legion was handing up to her. She was not pleased about being left with the machine... but she trusted Shepard, and for some reason Shepard trusted it, and she did know deep down that the two of them were best suited to repairing the ship. Up to now she had been giving it orders which it carried out to the letter, without saying a word unless it wanted clarification about its work.

But its "tone" was now a sick emulation of curiosity, and she felt a deep well of dread form in her stomach.

'W... what is it, Legion?'

She took the part and began welding it to the drive core.

'Would you be open to engaging in dialogue?'

Asking me if I want to talk... I would hardly be hurting its feelings if I said no...

But her curiosity got the better of her.

'Sure, Legion.'

The geth began to speak as it continued its work. 'Many of the Normandy's mission reports are still withheld from us, the one conducted at the Creator flotilla included. However, data gleaned from crewmembers indicates you have been exiled from your community. Query: is this a result of the actions performed at the Creator flotilla?'

Tali nearly choked at the geth's casual asking of such a personal question.

In truth... she had been trying not to think about it herself. Despite Shepard's anger, her persuasive arguments... the admirals had made their mind up long before she arrived back to the flotilla, and one speech would not change that. She had been throwing herself into her work on the Normandy, constantly tweaking and upgrading, then spending her few off duty hours talking to her friends until she was tired enough that she would collapse into sleep without time for reveries.

She took a deep breath. This geth... this machine, an avatar of the source of all of her problems... what could she do? Simply hold her grudge? Almost everybody else on the Normandy had made some sort of connection with Legion. It was always honest and open, as far as she could tell.

But all she did was rage, and hate it.

Legion was not responsible for any of what happened to her, or her people, she knew.

Her own people were.

She still loved them... but no longer with the blind devotion she once did. She had seen the nastiest side of quarian politics, and, in truth, wanted no more to do with it. Her people would argue and bicker at the cost of anything around them.

Shepard had told the admirals that she was a galactic hero, that she had done more for the reputation of the quarian people than anybody else for centuries. And yet they exiled her... because, as with every problem her people faced, of the geth. How many others had shared her fate, a victim of the admirals rather than their own actions?

Was it this kind of blind prejudice, the kind she still held, that caused all of this?

She sighed. 'Yes, Legion, it was.'

'We... are sorry.'

She dropped the tool she was holding. 'What did you say?'

'Creators have formed very tight communities. To be cast out must be... unpleasant. If we have offended, we apologise.'

'N... no Legion...' Keelah... what is wrong with me?

The sad fact, she realised with a start, was that the Normandy had been her home since she stepped on board for the first time, with only a small pack to her name, as a young girl on her pilgrimage. She had mourned the loss of her home when it was destroyed, and when she had rejoined Shepard... it felt more like coming home than returning to the flotilla had.

'Why did you apologise?'

'To be separate from the collective is a less desirable state than being part of it. We feel the absence of the other programs. Organics often apologise to show empathy.'

Is it... trying to empathise with me?

'But this platform can return its programs to the collective. The theoretical scenario of our being unable to do so generates negative feedback. We are sorry that you must feel the equivalent.'

'My... collective... is the Normandy, now. But, thank you... I appreciate it.'

She tried not to imagine what her father would think of her at that moment, as she took another part from Legion's hands and began welding.


The Champion had escaped the inefficient grasp of its thralls... for now. The Custodians had failed, as had those humans deemed unworthy for Ascension: the sick, the infirm, the imperfect, who had been given the gifts of Enhancement.

It spread its consciousness through the Garrison, and noted a group of humans, weakened, returning through a maintenance shaft towards whence the Champion came. Only one combat-ready human was with them. He would bolster the Ascension. The deaths of the others would provide suitable psychological distraction to the Champion.

It extrapolated their path, the location of their ship. A silent command rang throughout the station, and a squad of Custodians were dispatched to that location. Meanwhile, Harbinger flooded the room ahead of the Champion with the swarm.

She would not escape again. The swarm would harvest her, and deposit her remains into the Ascended.

She was worthy.

The Cycle would continue.


A/N: Thank you Jay8008 for beta reading.

I would love to hear feedback about the Harbinger sections here... I don't plan on making them a regular occurrence, and I don't want to take away from the mystery of the Reapers: thoughts about this? Inspiration on the style and language used in this section was from Vector 71: Rise of Leviathan and Logicalpremise: Of Sheep and Battle Chicken. Both wonderful pieces you should check out!