Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect. At all.

A/N: There appears to be a fledgling interest in this story, so I'ma continue it :P. As always, let me know what you think. EDIT: changed 'omnitools' to the proper 'Omni-tools'.

Tokyo, Japan.
January 23rd, 2177. 9:15 P.M.

"You are batshit insane." I turn my head towards Kasumi as we walk to the shuttleport.

"That bad, huh?"

"You killed three people!" I cringe slightly at this, but suppress the feeling of bile in my throat.

"Four, actually. Who were going to kill us." She frowns at this.

"You jumped off a building, and pulled a stuntman by parachuting to safety."

"To save your ass."

"Still makes you a crazy person."

"Well, I wasn't debating that part." Our argument dies down as we reach the port. Even at night, it's fairly busy. "Well," I start. "Here we are. Shall we?" She nods, and we head inside. Incriminating items disposed of (well, melted down into Omni-gel by my ever-valuable Omni-tool), We make it through the security checkpoints with little hassle. My remaining creds (Kasumi's ill-gotten ones had been taken from her by Owens) go towards two tickets to Detroit.

"Where are we going to get the credits for a shuttle off of earth?" Kasumi points out to me.
"I know someone who can help us." Comes my reply. In reality, I'm just hoping that Mr. Employee would help me out again. I did what he had asked me to do, sort of. Now, He should let me know what to do next. "For now, lets just get there."

The shuttle is half-filled, with around 30 people spread out through the seats. Moving to our own, we settle in for the relatively short trip. My relaxation came in the form of my mp3 player, which had made it through everything I had. 'Simple luxuries.' The sounds of A.D.H.D. earn me a tap on the shoulder from Kasumi.

"Ignoring the relic you're using to play it, what is that music?" I raise my eyebrow briefly, before realizing it's now older than the both of us.

"Kendrick Lamar." I hand my free earbud to her. She takes it, inserting it into her ear as it plays on. She listens to the lyrics for a few seconds before asking me where I found this, confused. "Oh, around," I answer with a cryptic smile on my face. "Why?"

"Because it probably shouldn't exist." Now it is my turn to be confused.

"Why?" She motions to her Omni-tool, where an extranet window is open.

"No search results found for 'Kendrick Lamar'." I frown at this, and immediately open my own search bar.

'Ab-Soul' Nothing.
'Eminem' No results.
'Metallica' Zilch.

"Ajsdnyhfru?!" My shock cannot be put into words.

"Look up music suppression, 2054." Kasumi says, and I do so. The results are extremely depressing, and completely ridiculous.

"The Explicit Music Suppression act, carried out in 2054, was a motion by politicians who were concerned with the level of obscenity in recent music, and felt that it was damaging the minds of the new generation. This opinion was met with extremely mixed reactions, and many protesters objected on several different grounds. After months of debate,the act was declared legal, and over 90% of the music created over the past hundred years was scrubbed from the internet and connected computers through mandatory updates. The resulting riots caused by people resisting this movement went on for over two years. They were only put to a stop when the act was lifted in 2056, but by that time little remained in terms of actual written lyrics, with many of the artists who had created them dead or forced to turn over all material in the hopes that they wouldn't release the content again. This also marked the last time an appointed official was reprimanded for allowing spiritual beliefs to cause such instability. "- Earth archives, updated 2175.

I glare harshly at the last statement. Of. Course. Suddenly, a horrifying thought crosses my mind, causing me to frantically type in a new search, only breathing a sigh of relief when it comes up empty as well.

"What was that about?" Kasumi asks me.

"Just making sure a certain plague was snuffed out." I reply as I clear 'Justin Bieber' from my search bar. "Well, what do you think?" She looks at the mp3 player now in my hand.

"I think you're sitting on a potential goldmine." She replies. "Where did you get that?" I only smirk at her, and she pouts slightly. "Meanie."

Upon landing, I begin to feel something is amiss. My thoughts are confirmed as the pilot's voice sounds from a loudspeaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but Metro Security is concerned over a possible security threat aboard. Please stand by." My eyes lock onto Kasumi.

"No way that it's us," she whispers, looking towards the airlock regardless. "Nobody knows we were involved with Owens." The airlock opens, revealing two fully-armored men with Avengers in their charcoal-colored armor shows no recognizable insignia. The gaze of the first man lands on us, and I immediately look at Kasumi as if to say 'are you sure?'. As they wind their way towards us, I slide my mp3 player into my pocket. Upon reaching us, the first man speaks.

"Cory Weston?"

"Um, no?" I reply as I slowly raise my hands up, palms out.

Only to see an assault rifle stock flying towards my face. "Motherf-"

Pain, followed by darkness.

Following my return to consciousness, I reflect on something important: 'I HAVE to stop waking up with a splitting headache wondering where I'm at.' I look around the room I find myself in, finding bland walls, a light attached to the ceiling, a door with no interface, a mirror on one side, and a metal table that my hands are unfortunately cuffed to."Shit, I could be in any interrogation room in the galaxy." I mutter, and as if on cue, the door opens, revealing a glimpse of a hallway made up of the same metallic material as the cell before closing behind a man in his thirties maybe, head shaved bald and wearing a plain white uniform under a lab coat, of all things. He sits down in the chair on the opposite end of the table I'm restrained to, and starts to speak.

"Well, do you know why you are here?" he asks as his Omni-tool activates, recording the conversation.

"My yearly check-up?" He smiles a moment, then presses a button on his Omni-tool.

Flaming daggers seem to pierce every inch of my skin as I convulse in my chair, feeling the most agonizing pain I've ever known. As soon as it started, the sensation stops, leaving me panting for breath.

"I'd advise you to look at the device on your wrist, Mr. Weston." I do. It looks like an oversized, black wristwatch. "That device is wired into your nerves, a stroke of genius if I do say so myself. Instead of affecting pleasure centers, which certain suit rats are infamous for, it lights up your pain receptors, causing hell on your mind but no lasting damage to your body."

The smug pride in his work, and the off-handed racism he used, made me aware that something was very, very wrong here.

"What is it that you want?"

"Catching on, are you? Very good. You appeared seemingly out of thin air in the Detroit Metro logs. Before that, there is no trace of your existence. Care to explain?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." I say, choosing my words carefully. "I'm just a street kid from Detroit." He smiles at this, and I know I've fallen into a trap.

"And yet you appear in Tokyo, and bring down a crime boss who tries to kill you. Don't be surprised," he adds looking at me. "The people I work for have eyes everywhere. How is it you just simply appear there, in time to interrupt his day?"

"It was simple coincidence," I begin. "I was just there-" I'm stopped mid speech by his pressing the button again, for longer this time. By the time I recover, I'm shaking like a leaf.

"I could do this all day," he begins. " But I have someone who can simply pull the information I seek a lot easier. I don't like her, but I can't deny her usefulness." He taps something out on the wrist-mounted device that I'm beginning to hate, and a few moments later the door opens, revealing an Asari in yellow armor. My blood runs cold as I realize his plan.

"Probe his mind" The doctor, for lack of a better title, says." We need to know how he managed to end up in Detroit with no prior history." She simply nods, and approaches my chair. There is no dramatic speech; she merely blinks and proceeds to alter the very meaning of mindfuck.

The experience is hard to understand, akin to someone trying to rip a book away from you you really didn't want them to read. As my mind struggles, I can feel her trying to watch my memories like a movie. As past experiences come to focus, I realize that I can still see the room, and if I focus on one particular memory, it becomes clearer. Using this, I plan a little mindfuck of my own.

(POV Dr. Decker)

I can see the veins in his temple pulse as the blue bitch works her magic. 'She has a streak of cruelty about her that I can appreciate, at least.' Only it starts to go wrong.

I notice a shift: the added stress seems to be on HER face now, as if she has found something horrifying. All of the sudden, she breaks away, screaming slightly as she bumps into the wall.

"For god's sake, what?" I demand.

"He... He actively resisted me," She begins. "He even started to... Invade MY mind.. All I could see was raw emotion." She shivers at this, and it alerts me to just how bad it may have been to see a 300-year old woman shiver. "There was so much pain.. Anguish, rage..." She looks me dead in the eyes. "If you are planning on breaking him, don't waste your time." she looks over to the pale man now slumped over the table, out cold. "He won't break." She walks out without another word, and I smile as she leaves. I speak now to my Omni-tool.

"He's a good candidate. He will become unstoppable with the training we have planned, but he will bend to our will. Everyone breaks eventually."

(POV Cory)

'Another day, another time I wake up in a strange place with my head pulsing. I should start just expecting this.'

I slowly get up from the floor, looking at my new surroundings. it seems like a barracks, with six small beds in the room, and two ajar doors revealing bathrooms. My attention is drawn to the.. Unique looking people now standing in front of me. The first, a monster of a man at at least 6' 7" speaks first.

"Welcome to Hell."