Shepard sat at her desk in thought, fingers drumming against its surface while admiring the rust-coloured, novelty racing trophy beside her Star of Terra. She was mired in making a decision, but unlike most recent choices that came across her, there were no lives in the balance, no high stakes, and no time pressures. Despite the relative inconsequentiality of it, the decision was proving difficult: She was trying to decide on a gift for Arius.

The idea had initially been purely appreciative. He had taken lengths to furnish them with highly thoughtful items, even those professional tools used in war, and to return the gesture with some equitable measure of consideration was the least she could do. However, as their relationship evolved, becoming more intricate and layered, her feelings for him deepened. Consequently, the idea of a gift transformed from simple appreciation to a token of affection. But what to give the man who had or had once had - in the most authentic sense - everything? She knew about him: his sentimentalities for the past, his love of food, his appreciation of the simple stuff… perhaps something within that overlap? What simple item could she reasonably find that could remind him of the old days? She had shortlisted a dozen seemingly acceptable items but wanted it to count, and none among them seemed especially noteworthy. She mulled on it, spinning in her chair, ruminating in her struggle over so small a thing.

In a bid for inspiration, she turned to her terminal and opened her codex, scrolling to the entry for Arius Farren. What had started as a brief profile from the Illusive Man had now transformed into a dense collection of personal anecdotes and corroborated details, most of which Shepard had jotted down lest they fade from her memory. She had recently added the map of Earth that Traynor had annotated during his cooking spree, and seeing the map after hearing the tale he had shared with her seemed to give it a new dimension. With fresh eyes, she glanced over it again, tracing its path to his starting point, trying to overlay the events of his story with known history. He had described a flood event that had been the greatest in millennia. Such an event should have been noticed, with any hope, archaeologically. Curiosity piqued, she hit extranet search engines for relevant articles, searching for encyclopedic history entries and trying to correlate time scales. Record keeping that far was scant, but archaeological sources weren't all she found, and she fell down the hyperlink rabbit hole.

As a child, she had known of the famous biblical narrative of Noah and his ark, but she hadn't known that a great flood myth, on which it was based, was familiar to nearly all primary human western religious texts. The earliest surviving written word emerged only five to six thousand years ago on cruciform-stencilled clay tablets, some of the same that Arius had recognized with zeal at the ill-fated Eclipse party. The texts, primeval as they were, codified oral traditions that stretched further into obscure timescales. Peeling back the eras, she searched maps for ancient waterways that roughly matched his outlined criteria. The rivers he spoke of in the sun, whose source was mountains and whose banks were fertile with yearly flooding, could have been the rivers of Tigris and Euphrates of ancient Mesopotamia. The search sparked recognition within her, and she opened some previous notes with an excited hand, clicking back and forth between pages, searching for something.

Some of the oldest written accounts of the Mesopotamian flood tale were part of the Epic of Gilgamesh, which Arius had previously given her a translation of. As her eyes darted back and forth, she could see that the similarities between his translation and those of the present-day religious scriptures were obvious. And while the stories depicted a global flood, it was not difficult to imagine that such widespread devastation to someone living there at that time would cover the whole world; in the ages before mechanical chariots were drawn across the sky, the land would have undoubtedly seemed much more extensive. She flipped forward through history, wanting to observe what had come after. Even though the city of Arius' past had been destroyed, the annals showed that many more had built their own from its metaphorical brick. The rivers joined together what was called the 'fertile crescent'; one of the cradles of civilization of the ancient world - the birthplace of the world's first writing, agriculture and cities, having profoundly marked humankind henceforth.

She lost track of the page count as she dove continually deeper. Though hardly as reliable as radiocarbon dating, religious accounts held the earliest lineage of stories. There was one, in particular, that kept tugging at her. Originating from earlier, unclear sources, the ancient Babylonian king of the gods, Marduk, amar utu.k or 𒀭𒀫𒌓 in the earlier cruciform script, was said to have presided over justice, agriculture, healing, regeneration, medicine, and magic. The god was sometimes depicted as having eyes around his head, speaking magic words, and possessing a divine weapon. Even putting aside the attributes that seemed eerily representative to that of Arius, the depiction was a similar personification of the lessons he had once preached - spoken magic words showing the transformative power of speech, truth, and eyes in all directions, which portrayed constant vigilance in all things. In the ancient lore, the god with all he represented had famously fought and defeated the primordial serpent Tiamat, who represented chaos. After piercing her heart and blowing up the serpent with fierce winds, Marduk buried parts of the body to set about the world's creation. The god then co-worked with humans to hold back the forces of chaos and maintain order, protecting cities and citizens alike. Such was the god's influence that long lines of Mesopotamian kings tasked themselves with emulating all the qualities of Marduk. On new year's festivals, kings were taken outside the city limits, stripped of their royal clothing and forced to confess in all the ways they had failed in their emulation and duty.

Associated with the god was a prophetic text, a copy of which was found on a tablet in the ruins of ancient Assur. The Marduk Prophecy described the travels and visits the god had made to neighbouring lands. The first two sojourns in the prophecy were described as good for the places the god had graciously agreed to stay, but the last ended in calamity. After returning and seeing that his city had been sacked by a local power, Marduk turned from it and departed the land, abandoning it to famine and pestilence, not to be seen again. Startled, Shepard reread the passage, beset by the mounting surrealism of it all. Through the recounting, it struck her that the representation of Marduk in the prophecy was not depicted as some invisible, ethereal being one prayed to or praised in times of need and plenty but a close friend and neighbour who lived just down the road; such was the value placed on him. At the text's conclusion, the prophecy foretold that, while having departed, Marduk would one day return when a promised leader brought salvation back to the ruined city.

Unsettled, Shepard leaned back into her chair and stared at the ceiling, her mind a tumultuous storm of replay and possibility. When he first came aboard, he had vaguely hinted at his role in humanity's chronicle, stating that a gentle push became magnified over time, resulting in extensive, unpredicted results. She had then made a joke, sarcastically suggesting that he insinuated teaching someone to build a better stone tool could eventually culminate in space flight. She was eating her words - that was nearly what had happened. History had become legend, legend had become myth, and the frayed threads of his life, as he called them, had woven themselves deep into the shared cultural memory of humanity.

Arius's brand of romanticism was starting to rub off on her, and she groaned loudly, annoyed by the intrigue in her head. Not too long ago, she would have never entertained such thoughts. She was doubly annoyed that she had not gotten closer to deciding what to get him.

A notification on her terminal sounded, and her head returned to it. A message had arrived in her inbox. She opened it.

Fwd: Thank you

From: Steven Hackett

- Forwarded message -

From: Kahlee Sanders

Subject: Thank you

To: Steven Hackett

Hi, Commander:

I didn't have time to thank you properly after you got us out of the academy, and Admiral Hackett agreed to send this your way.

While my students are out on duty, I'm doing what I can to help with the Crucible. It's an amazing project, more advanced than anything I've ever seen before. Some of my more tech-minded kids are staying back to help out too, and watching them work... it's the future, Commander. This project will inform human progress for generations.

And they'll have you to thank for it.

All my best,

Kahlee Sanders

She closed the message and reopened a previously received one, rereading it.

From: Arius Farren

Subject: RE: Grissom Academy Emergency Evacuation

Shepard,

Responding to you from Omega while waiting for transport out - I'm happy to hear that the Grissom Academy evacuation went well. Although it is unfortunate that such an excellent institution has been rendered defunct by the war, its real value lies in the people it developed. Not coincidentally, I contacted Jack after your unexpected rendezvous at the academy. I'm pleased to see her in a leadership role and working to guide the next generation of biotics - she'll make for an unforgettable teacher. As you advised, her gifted students will bolster much-needed support and join the Alliance 103rd Marine Division. David Archer, the brilliant young man Garrus notified me of being an old acquaintance, will be joining Kahlee Sanders to work on the Crucible.

As an update from me in so few words, assisting Aria in reclaiming Omega from Cerberus' control has been… eventful. I do not regret my insistence to go in your stead, as time was of the essence in these two matters, and the resources Aria pledged remain substantial. When I return, you'll receive a full, proper debriefing, but I must relay that in addition to capturing the station for strategic location and resource advantages, Cerberus has been using the populace to conduct experiments on creatures they call Adjutants. I cannot overstate the personal shock of seeing their forms again. Though they appear to everyone now as a fresh, especially minacious horror, they are not new. During harvesting my cycle, the Reapers created a virus to rapidly subvert the Inusannon - the foremost species of my cycle, whose stone likenesses you have seen immortalized on Ilos. I do not know how Cerberus retrieved a viable copy of the virus, but any life form coming into physical contact with an Adjutant becomes infected. The infection manifests as a highly rapid rewrite of the hosts' genetic material into yet another Adjutant, able to infect others ad infinitum. From intel recovered here, Cerberus planned to implant Omega's citizens with control devices, then infect them with the Adjutant virus to create an army of obedient Adjutants. I have included scans and observations to this message for dissemination to our allies - the only way to stop the transformation from occurring appears to be to kill those who are infected or decapitate an infected corpse.

Regardless of Cerberus' plans, their designs for Omega have successfully been thwarted. We have halted further infection, and station control has returned to its reigning queen. The Cerberus General Oleg Petrovsky, the leading player, has surrendered and has been taken in by the Alliance for interrogation, which I was promised would yield valuable intel about the Cerberus labs involved with the virus. As pledged, Aria has begun transporting Omega's eezo hoard to the Alliance and providing an unorthodox but highly effective raiding fleet to be deployed immediately.

To amend my above observations, I reviewed the Cerberus logs you recovered during your encounters with them at the academy; their intents were sinister, and the implications are disturbing. This will not come as a surprise, but following the plans of the Adjutant virus, Cerberus appears to be actively working to replicate indoctrination and performance implants, specifically with subjects already possessing biotic potential. Had you not rescued the students and staff, I have no doubt they would soon appear down the barrel of your gun in far less fortuitous circumstances. This further highlights that while we were in the right places and times, there are other places and times where we will not be. Employ exceptional care at your subsequent encounter with Cerberus, as they may manufacture another adversary with lethal effect.

As we agreed, I'm heading to the Citadel to link back up with the Normandy. From rough estimations, I'll arrive soon after you dock. If time permits, meet me in the Zakera Ward? Your krogan son has informed me of a noodle bar worth investigating. (hopefully with less Cerberus involvement)

See you soon.

Arius

She closed the message and reopened the last. It was from the salarian councillor. In it, he detailed concerns describing Councillor Udina as a security risk. He had asked her to meet in person, leading to their current chartered course. With any luck, the meeting would be uneventful, and she would have enough time to meet up with Arius before they embarked again.

She closed the message and checked the time. They should have already docked, but she hadn't been notified. Puzzled, she shut her terminal and headed down to the cockpit.

.

"-Alliance control, this is SSV Normandy, are we cleared to descend?" the Alliance pilot asked before turning around to see her approach. He shook his head, signifying to her that he still hadn't succeeded. He propped up her head with his left hand, tired of repeating himself. "Alliance control, this is Normandy, we're headed to Bay 1-4, Zakera Ward. Are we cleared to descend?"

There came no response.

"What the hell's going on down there?" Joker voiced, double-checking everything on his end. "Even if there was a station malfunction, they'd have backups online. I've got a bad feeling here. Checking emergency channels…"

He tapped a few items on his pilot interface and immediately received a response, though clearly not what or who he was expecting. "Hey! Yeah, this is Joker. Uh-huh. Yeah, no kidding." He turned his head, getting her attention. "Commander, there's a communication from Thane. He says it's important. Think you'll want to hear this."

"Thane? Put him through."

The raspy voice of the drell played through the speakers. "Shepard. The Citadel is under attack. Cerberus troops are everywhere, and they're in control of the docks."

For a moment, before the seriousness of the situation struck her, she felt a flash of amusement mixed with aggravation. Since Arius had dared to suggest the words 'Cerberus' and 'Citadel' in the same sentence, the universe had conspired to make it so.

"Are you safe?"

"No. I had to evade their commandos at the hospital. I'm in a Presidium storefront."

"Did Kaiden make it out?"

"We got separated. He said he had to protect the Council. I'm going to C-Sec headquarters."

"Why C-Sec headquarters?"

"It's been compromised, and C-Sec's response depends on it. As long as Cerberus is holding the headquarters, they have the station."

"All right, Joker–get us away from the docks and close to C-Sec HQ. We'll deploy in the shuttle."

"Aye Aye, Commander."