.

Swept under my carpet
underneath my bed
I push away the demons
From the darkest corner of my head
An ever growing hatred
Of what I've come to be
Have I become a monster
Is a monster killing me

It's time I exorcize
Demons In my mind
No hatred in my eyes
What's inside me?

I can feel my mind letting go
Burn my face to let you know
With these wounds I can't hide
I exorcize what's inside

Sacred Mother Tongue – Demons

Chapter 13 ~ What's hidden behind

It's my distinct impression that the universe just loved to rub it in.

Leaning against the Mess' counter, I waved Gardener and his plate of things he tried to pass off as breakfast away. No thanks. I already felt sick to the bones.

Neglect of duty. Conduct unbecoming. Drugged-up to the eyeballs. Sexual harassment – just to give my list of derailments that special touch. This was a disciplinary nightmare – and without the mental blackout to blur the shameful edges. Of course.

Yup, positive outlook, my ass.

Datapad in hand, I listened to Gabby and Kenneth, who sat at the table ranting about a lost crimptool, and watched Kasumi Goto watching the breakfasting crew from her seat on the stairs leading to the Main Battery. The thief turned her head in my direction. I quickly angled for the coffee mug behind me. Uhg.

I sipped on my coffee and browsed once more through my datapad, checking status reports and messages at random. If anything, it made me look tremendously busy. Provisions and gear at 90 percent. EDI was still working on deciphering the bulk of heavy encrypted data we had salvaged from the Collector ship. Another Cerberus errand that required our presence somewhere at the ass end of the Terminus Systems. Miranda had flagged it important. I replied and closed the message with a sigh. Maybe it was for the better that my condition last evening had prevented me from confronting the Illusive Maniac about the falsified turian signal. No matter how much I despised it, as long as we had no lead on the Collectors I was caught on a Cerberus ship with a Cerberus Crew, all supported by a powerful Cerberus AI. It didn't matter that everyone on the Normandy including Miranda apparently liked to pretend this was my ship. Not as long as we were still running on Cerberus resources. Damn. I hated feeling trapped and the one person I trusted the most –

Oh, that's right. I drove him off because I just had to shove my dumb tongue down his throat.

Peachy. Just… peachy.

Garrus and I really had something good here. A friendship built on mutual respect, banter and trust; hardened by hours in the battlefield guarding each other's backs. Not at all like those little dysfunctional relations I've been so familiar with. This had never been about using each other to sate some pathetic need or to sooth a million irrational fears. No, what I had with the turian sniper was something solid and real. Comforting for its predictability and its clearly defined boundaries etched so firmly into the concrete.

Exciting, when we danced along the edge of that line.

Yeah, and I screwed it up. Again. Worse, I couldn't even blame my actions merely on some drug-induced delirium. Because Red Sand or not, this idiocy would have never happened if deep inside there hadn't been this other me that undeniably wanted to run me over the cliff.

And heaven help me, she had wanted it with every freaking fiber of her being.

Oy. This wasn't just rock bottom. This was rock bottom buried below twenty tons of crap.

I peered at the Med Bay over the edge of the datapad. The privacy tinting had been activated, turning the windows basically into a one-way mirror. I knew it was a good sign that Tali was fit enough to have visitors and the turian had any right to avoid me, but did he have to be so eager to leave? Any faster and he would have been running from me. Literally.

Vexed, I gave up on pretending to study the pad. This was getting me nowhere.

I smiled Mess Sergeant Gardener into refilling my coffee and moved towards the Japanese woman. Kasumi balanced one of Miranda's delicate white tea cups on her fingertips, a small knowing smile on her violet lips. I could have smacked the amusement off her porcelain-smooth face.

She tilted her hood-cowered head at me just so, and all of a sudden the sight of the black-clad thief triggered a half-forgotten childhood memory; slowly drifting towards the surface like a pocket of air trapped in a tar pit. Another woman; not of Asian, but Northern heritage. Her face shadowed by the cowl of her unadorned black clothes, but still wearing a smile on her face as she shifted the weapons belted to her waist and kneeled down. Smiling, despite the tear sliding down her cheek. Smiling at the eight-year old girl, who was desperately hanging on to her.

Smiling at me.

I dropped beside Kasumi and I closed my eyes briefly. I used to have a better grip on myself. Dwelling on my childhood and especially my adolescence was unhealthy to say the least. Too many demons. Too many painful memories better left buried deep.

And if not for Anderson…

The Alliance gave me a new home, an ID and a gun, and taught me to soldier on. Allowed me to pretend to be a woman without any past at all. One wouldn't suspect but there was a surprising number of "ghosts" like me; people whose life more or less officially started with entering Alliance Service. Thanks to the constant need for fresh recruits, they couldn't afford to be too choosy.

Looking at the hazy memory of my mother, the term seemed terribly ironic, though. She had been living off grid, maybe an assassin, maybe a thief, or maybe just a woman running afoul the wrong people. And that particular night… it was the last time I had seen her. And then she just vanished, knowing she would never return. I never learned why. Never learned what happened. Never learned her real name.

I felt new fissure grow across the Shepard-shell and forced the bitter thought away.

You're vanguard. Ever push forward. Never look back. Remember?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"How are you settling in? Something you need?" Commander Shepard finally ask to fill the silence. At least I could count on that part of me working as it should.

"Oh, I'm fine," Kasumi replied in her husky, almost singing voice. "Thank you. And I have to admit this is actually a nice and refreshing experience."

I suppressed a snort. "You sound surprised."

"I am. See, I usually prefer to work alone. Less distractions, less drama, less – ah, you know." She chuckled. "But had I known beforehand that the company would turn out this interesting... I even might have considered giving our Mr. Illusive a discount for my service."

She made a small humming noise and I followed her gaze. Which landed straight on Jacob's – admittedly – well-toned buttocks, just before they vanished behind the wall dividing the Mess. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Oh goodie. Perhaps it wasn't too late to rename the Normandy for a second time. SSV Perverseness, reporting for duty.

I cleared my throat. "Just wait until you see them in action."

The thief snickered into her tea.

"The Crew. I'm talking about the Crew." Idiot.

"I have the feeling that travelling with you is going to be a most enlightening venture."

"I'm afraid there's not so much enlightenment in being chased around by a hungry thresher maw. Or in evil space squids trying to obliterate us."

She turned to me, her lips twitching. "You're funny, Shep. What I mean is there's this… aura around you. It draws the people, makes them confide in you, regardless how bleak or dark the prospects. And then I look into their faces and I can see it. They all trust in you, even those who usually believe in nothing but themselves. Very fascinating." Her smile widened to expose even white teeth. "I bet it wouldn't even matter if you were born an elcor. They would still come to you and believe. Fas-ci-na-ting."

"Uh-huh." With self-confident emphasis 'I am Commander Shepard. Surrender or be surrendered.'

Oh boy.

"See for yourself." The thief nudged my attention towards the Justicar striding forceful towards us; those nine-century old asari boobs bouncing in a way that could give any girl a complex about her connective tissue. Mother Nature had a twisted sense of humor indeed. Then I noted the stony expression plastered on the asari's face.

"Shepard." Samara began gravely. "I have a favor of you to ask."

~V~

As chance would have it, I walked into the Med Bay just when the Doctor finished the examination of Tali's injury.

She sat on the bed farthest away from the entrance, behind the transparent plastic of the small clean room tent Dr. Chakwas had set up around the bed. While the Doctor sorted her instruments on a tray near the bed, the quarian was busy checking her omni-tool, head inclined, the cowl of her suit pushed back, a bony and bandaged shoulder exposed. The visor of her mask sat beside her.

It never failed to amaze me that below their masks, quarian faces resembled an intriguing blend between female turian and human features. Tali's skin was of a pale, slightly grayish violet, with her human-like lips a few shades darker than the rest. Like most of our women she had a narrow, pointed chin and high cheekbones. On a turian it would have been delicate, without mandibles and facial plating she looked almost too fragile to touch.

With a small start the quarian mechanic noticed me. Her mouth formed a small surprised 'oh' and her hand darted out for the mask.

My face warmed and I cringed, realizing way too late that I was probably intruding on her privacy like an uncivilized idiot – the masks were made to obscure their features, clearly there was more to it than just a medical condition. I wanted to turn away. I really did. But… damn. I never had the opportunity to put an actual face to my friend, and the only unmasked quarians I'd ever seen with my own eyes had been corpses.

The tilted big eyes above her small nose were almost human or asari in shape, yet despite of what their mask's glow suggested, her amber irises were set against a black sclera, not white. Like Shepard she had those exotic, oddly shaped cartilages for ears, only the quarian's were curved differently and had longer lobes. Similar to a turian's, her forehead stretched back into three small and pointy bone crests. They gave way to black hair-like extensions, braided into thick strands that came down to the middle of her slim neck.

All too quickly though, her face was obscured once more, leaving me with a distinct sense of fascination – and a great deal of guilt.

Clearly embarrassed down to her bones, Tali resumed to fuss with her omni-tool. Which caused Dr. Chakwas, covered up in scrubs, to turn around and frown at me over her green surgical mask. I sighed. My expertise told me exactly what that look meant. No need to hear my side; she just knew it was my fault. How was this even possible? Female or not, she was an alien. Maybe it was something that came with their genome.

"You sit and wait," she said and pointed at the chair before her desk, "I'm with you in a moment, Garrus."

I nodded and sat down, wrecking my brain for some private piece of my life I could share with Tali later to make her feel less violated. Perhaps something from my childhood? Yes. No shortage of mortifying episodes to choose from there; a fact that never failed to be a constant source of poorly hidden amusement to my beloved sister.

Through the tinted window I watched the Justicar approach Shepard and the thief. Both sat on the stairs leading to the Main Battery. They exchanged a few words and then Samara left the Mess with a thoughtful-looking Commander in tow.

Right. Funny how my paramount expertise on women was utterly useless when it came to her.

We really should have talked. Should have dispelled any possible misconceptions and put this incident behind us. I mean, she hadn't been herself and we were both all grown-up. Things like this happened. Nothing to it.

So why did we keep on acting as if nothing had happened, while both of us were perfectly aware that it was all pretense?

It made no sense. Worse, it caused this wary tension to grow between us, reminding me unpleasantly of the way one would regard the soldier on the other side of the fighting line right before the battle started. She couldn't possibly suspect how close I had come to losing myself, could she?

"Okay, Garrus," the Doctor disrupted my futile musings. "Shall we?"

.~'*'~.

Shortly after I sat on the Med Bay's second bed across from Tali, enduring the quarian's gaze on my scarred chest. She deserved the intimacy and I certainly deserved the unease. I winced at my reflection in the small mirror Dr. Chakwas had handed me. Clearly the mechanic had received the worse end of the bargain. Without the orthotics merciful covering, my face stared back at me in ragged disfigurement only a krogan could find attractive.

The thinner facial plating running along my jaw had been seared off; partly even to the bone. Dark scar tissue covered the right side of my face, from the back of my head and down to my badly frayed mandible.

I touched the lumpy patch of flesh and hardened skin that used to be a cheek. Well, the Doctor had tried to save at least something, and considering that the alternative would have been a rather unfashionable hole…

I gnashed my teeth. Of course I had known it would be bad. Unlike the rest, my head hadn't been protected by armor and the explosion had obviously caused the worst damage there. It was just – Cerberus had managed to fix Shepard just fine and somewhere, deep down I had hoped… No. Better stay away from that. I was turian, for crying out loud. Accepting what couldn't be changed was in my blood, damn it!

"Do you feel anything?" Dr. Chakwas suddenly asked, while watching me with too concerned eyes.

"Nothing. I-" I rubbed at the worst scar again and increased the pressure. There. A numb, distant ache. I almost sighed in relief. Some nerve endings had grown back. "Something's there. But faint."

I handed the mirror back and the Doctor stepped closer. "I know it doesn't seem so, but this is a good sign. Frankly, I feared the tissue would be too damaged to regenerate even that far. May I?"

I nodded, realizing that despite removing the orthotic, my hearing on the right was still off. Or better, more off than usual. Compromised hearing, the disease of my trade.

I stifled a curse and Dr. Chakwas stopped poking at my face. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Just noticed my hearing used to be better and – ah, don't mind. I shouldn't complain. I'm alive. It's all that matters. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're very welcome. We're done for now." She stripped off her gloves and broke into a good-natured smile. "You're a pleasant enough patient, Garrus, but I'd really appreciate it if you could stay away from missiles for the time being."

"Aye, Ma'am."

The human shook her head at my imitation of an Alliance salute and started cleaning up.

I fished for my shirt and the quarian chuckled, her accented voice as usual slightly distorted because of her mask. "As if you could trust any turian to keep his butt out of the firing line."

"Seriously, Tali? This lecture from someone sporting a bullet hole in her shoulder?"

She shifted on her bed. "I'm just observing. Besides, I can count the time I got shot on one hand." The Doctor cleared her throat and my quarian friend hastened to add, "Well, maybe two. But how many hands do you need?"

"Too many," I growled under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Let's not go there." Quarians. Likely their masks were in truth made to hide their constant malicious joy. No wonder the geth went rogue. How could I possibly think her face was pretty in an alien but intriguing way?

"Considering the company, he's actually doing quite fine," Dr. Chakwas added dryly.

I shrugged. "There you have it."

She threw up her hands. "Bosh'tet! That's ridiculous! Just because Shepard's even worse, it doesn't mean –" The mechanic stopped her tirade and took a breath. "Keelah. I'm sorry. I just worry. You hear that, Garrus? I worry about you both."

"You… worry?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, remind me not to get on your bad side then."

She poked the air in front of her with her index finger. "You're an idiot, Garrus Vakarian."

"And still you can't help liking me for it."

"Yah. That's just because I'm an idiot, too."

~V~

"Concentrate, Shepard. Open yourself to the force within."

"I do!" I bite off through clenched teeth, my eyes squeezed shut in effort. Ah, yes. Dragging concentration out from its hiding place to bash its face into the ground was ma-y-be not the best way to tap your inner resources.

"No, you don't," Samara replied sternly but patiently. How she was able to maintain such calm with me as her student was a mystery. Must have been some asari-thing. "There is great potential in you, but just don't put your full attention here. Let us do this again. Empty your mind, reach out for the energy…"

Vaguely, I felt how the Justicar's smooth crooning voice made my thoughts swim. So, I had given Samara my word to help her and in return… Well, it was past time for me to face at least some of my inner demons.

Obedient I reached out – and slammed into an all too familiar invisible wall. Again. Damn it! Ten tries and ten times nothing but the frustrating insight that you couldn't force a square through a triangle. Peeved with myself I shoved against the barrier, invisible fingers digging in to find the cracks my irritation might eventually grow. There were none. Without the adrenaline of combat this was a rather hopeless case.

"Be one with your biotics. Feel them flowing through your body. Feel their pulse. And then –"

Use the Force, Luke.

My concentration shattered under my vain attempt to contain a snicker. Oh boy. But why did the Justicar always have to sound like some old aged Jedi knight?

"Sorry," I said ruefully and I opened my eyes once more.

Cross-legged, I was sitting vis-à-vis to Samara on the floor of the observation deck where she had pitched camp. I stared out of the window where tiniest particles burned up against the Normandy's shields, causing them to glow like a freakish Aurora Borealis.

Where the never changing black of space stretched out in cold, infinite darkness.

My composure returned.

Garrus was right. My biotics were an edge we direly needed and I wanted to make this work. I really did. If it only wouldn't have been this difficult.

Most biotics received their first implants with beginning of puberty, and although mastering such power while riding out the pinnacles of adolescent hormone overload yelled for trouble, it was well worth the risk. If they made it through, those kids gained a unique understanding of their ability; a profound and deep connection that came close to the instinctiveness with which the asari handled their biotics. I had seen Jack using a mass effect field to pull the salt shaker across the table without wasting one conscious thought.

For me it was different. It was only by chance that the Alliance had discovered the ability in me when I started my training. Sure, they then dutifully outfitted me with implants and put me through the basics, but my reflexes would always make me reach for conventional weapons long before I would even remember my biotics.

"Alright then," Samara finally said with the tiniest sigh. "Let us try something different. Give me your hands. Please."

I stretched out my hands and the Justicar twisted them so my palms faced upwards, then put hers on mine. Her eyes turned black.

"What are you doing?" I pulled away my hands, wary.

The last thing I needed was someone snooping through my already messed-up head. Why people were so obsessed with that kind of "connection" was beyond me. Yeah, yeah, I knew everyone claimed the asari were only able to tap into thoughts you were willing to share, but the one occasion when I had gotten myself talked into this by Liara had been embarrassing enough. For both of us. I could have perfectly lived to the end of my days without picking up that particular explicit image from the young asari's mind. Ever.

Samara's eyes switched back to their normal pale blue. "Have no worry, Shepard. I promise I won't enter your mind. I will merely guide you along."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Along to where?"

"Why Shepard, to help you work on your – Yes, I think you humans would call it 'Chi'. Your Chi is blocked. I suspect it isn't a physical condition; but a mental obstacle. It is holding you back now and I believe it's the reason why you're unable to grow into full strength."

I flinched. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea what was causing the block.

"I was taught that being calm is the key with biotics, but I can only make them work while fighting." Or more precisely, when the thrill of battle was overriding my mental safeties.

The old Justicar regarded me for a moment. "I understand." Then she sighed and it actually sounded a little vexed. "I'm afraid that's the point where your human training falls short. Calm of Mind might be for most biotics the easiest way to access their abilities; but it is far from the only one."

Now I was intrigued. "So…?"

Her deep blue lips twitched. "I know you're short on time so I will spare you the numerous philosophic aspects I had centuries to study. In a shell, it is quite mundane. Find your innermost equilibrium and embrace the very essence of who you truly are."

Great. Frigging great.

And worse, it made perfect sense.

I thought of Jack. Always angry, one of the most unstable persons I've ever met. No, scratch that. The most unstable. But always powerful. Because somehow she had found her own balance within all the hate and destruction that dictated her life.

And then there was the strange peace I felt whenever I was out there risking my life. The oneness; the scarce moments in which the two hearts in me almost beat as one. Had it been a mistake to detach myself so rigorously from Ivy and her emotional baggage? The fact that since Lazarus it became harder with each day to contain them certainly didn't speak in my favor. The once so indestructible Shepardness was full of cracks and each pushed me a little closer towards the breaking point. And if Shepard broke…

The thought made me cringe inwardly. Nothing but pain and disaster had come from living out this other side of myself; and yet here I stood, realizing, perhaps for the first time that for all my tactics and level-headed rationality being Shepard wasn't enough any longer.

Maybe lying with my face in the dirt in the belly of that Collector vessel had been a lesson all along. In the end it had been my incapability, and my incapability alone which had almost doomed us all. Saren, the Collectors, the Reapers – this fight was so much bigger than just one person. What goddamn right did I have to hold back, just because I shied away from the consequences? Because I was so fucking scared to lose this last bit of kindness and mercy my soul still possessed?

Fuck this, I needed her. Ivy's raw strength, her drive, her will to fight and survive. Not just the trifle, that despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite hide, but all of it.

It was the only choice. Sooner or later the pressure would become too much. Not a question of 'if' but 'when' and I'd rather deal with this disaster while I still had the chance to deflect at least some damage.

Finally I nodded and allowed Samara to touch my palms again. "Alright. Let's do this. Ready when you are."

Uh-huh. As ready as driving the Mako any second full-tilt down a vertical hillside. Blind-folded.

The blue-skinned alien inclined her head. "All will be well. Just remember: There are no other limits than those we set for ourselves."

"Aha, another piece of asari wisdom?"

"No," she said and then her stern face broke into one of those rare, motherly smiles. "Just something you will learn after living through your first three centuries. Embrace eternity."

Samara's eyes flashed dark and I looked at my reflection in the pool of blackness. My thoughts started to drift. Remotely I remembered to force my body to the brink of accessing my biotics. I closed my eyes. Warmth. Warmth radiated from the Justicar's palm and seeped into me. I was strangely aware of her presence. There was a… pressure rubbing gently against my awareness, almost as if my mind was engulfed completely by hers – close, but still blissfully separated.

The pressure changed into a soft humming and I found myself slipping slowly into a deeply hypnotic state; Samara's mind surrounding me like a shield that blocked away the outside.

"The equilibrium, Shepard," her presence seemed to demand with an encouraging nudge, "seek it."

I tried to duplicate the oneness in my mind. Focused on the one aspect in the world Shepard AND Ivy could agree on. The rush of battle. The adrenaline flowing through my veins. The exhilarating feel of being truly alive. I drew it all in and almost –

I extended my senses. Probed and ran into the barrier again. It wasn't working. My brain wouldn't let itself be fooled into sensing something that clearly wasn't there. I was sitting on the Normandy's observation deck, as unexcited as I could possibly get, and the closest thing to a fight was probably Miranda and Jack bitching at each other. Or Jack and Zaeed. Or…

Unbidden, my mind slipped in another memory.

Of an equally thrilling excitement. All reason abandoned while yielding to the surreal temptation of one crazy moment. A taste of heated metal and earth; of moving my lips against Vakarian's rough skin…

Ah yes. Perhaps those lunatics in me could actually agree on two things.

And then I felt the tingle; faint and treacherous it spread through me from my core into my limbs. Familiar tiny needles prickled underneath my skin; feeding the neuronal network that triggered my biotics.

Samara murmured something approving but my mind was unable to process the words. Her presence tightened around me, pushed against my awareness. Forcing my focus inwards. I took a deep breath, or perhaps I just believed I did. A rift had opened within. I just needed to walk through and seize what was waiting behind.

I imagined taking a step forward and…

… found myself stumbling forward. Catching myself. The ground. Stones rough and cold beneath my palms. I pushed to my knees and peered through the familiar dark of a cell. And kneeling across from me I saw myself. Lips curled in a wordless snarl, Ivy stared back unblinking; her bare skin revealing all the wounds and scars my new body had forgotten so rigorously. Anger, hatred and pain were raging behind her feverish gaze like an uncontrollable storm. And something else that hadn't been there before. Longing.

I stretched out my hand and so did she; her movements a perfect reflection of my own. Like a mirror opening into another reality. My palms touched a cool surface. Here in the very center of myself the barrier was as strong as it had ever been. Except… tiny cracks. Fanning out from below our hands.

Was it really a barrier? A mirror? Perhaps both and perhaps neither.

She blinked and the world twisted.

Saw myself kneeling before me. Calm, collected, detached. Eyes so dead, so devoid of any emotion. Just like the eyes of a corpse. Revulsion flooded my mind. I hated these eyes! Hated everything they stood for. They were wrong and cold and dead and they had locked me in here because they wanted me dead too! Fury burned in me. I was trapped because of them! I could have saved Ashley if not for them! And Toombs! Andrews! Turner! Kerrigen! I could have –

I blinked and snatched my hand away. So did she. My pulse hammered. So much hate. So much rage. How was I ever supposed to maintain control? It was impossible.

… the equilibrium…

And what if it wasn't about keeping control? What if it was about surrender? About being washed away and made anew?

… seek…

What if. Only one way to find out.

We placed our hands back on the wall that separated us and like a kaleidoscope the image shifted again. Ivy. Shepard. Back and forth. I felt a new set of fissures growing out from the first cracks. Forth and back. Faster and faster. Emotion blended into another. Calm and anger. Distance and proximity. The pressure grew. My control unraveled. A sensation of dread crept up my spine. A slow choking tendril wrapped around my throat and in midst a stab of fear a voice woke up.

You will perish.

A dark whisper. A hushed warning. Terror.

In panic I struggled against the flood of unleashed emotions Ivy heaped onto me. Tried to separate myself, to keep the mass of painful memories at bay. Her emotions only ripped into me with more force.

Shepard. You will perish.

I screamed in silence. It was consuming me!

Killing me!

I –

Something slammed into my mind. A stabbing pain; a hook burying itself deeply into my brain. Then it pulled, and I sickened at the vertigo, at the nauseating feeling of being dragged inside out. For one heartbeat I hung in a void for eternity.

My eyes snapped open.

"Are you alright?" Worry pinched Samara's ageless features.

I doubled over and retched dry air.

I sat up with a shiver and nodded. Pain exploded in my head. I caught my forehead between my fingers and groaned. Fuck me.

"I'm sorry for the rough wake up. The headache should ebb any moment."

It actually did. "What the hell just happened?"

"I sensed discomfort in you. I tried to ease your mind but you panicked and – Shepard. There was more…" she hesitated and my head shot up. "A wrongness… Something not you."

I stared at the asari and caught a glimpse of something you just don't want to see on the face of a relentless warrior pushing towards her tenth century:

Fear.

And suddenly I knew. Ivy hadn't been the only one waiting behind the barrier of my mind. Something else had been there as well. Something much more dire.

Harbinger.