"Hey Juel."
"Hey Tali. Get a good night's rest?" Juel plopped a plastic bag on the table John and Tali were sitting at.
"Yeah," Tali lied as she glanced at John, "you could say that."
She slept terribly. And John did too.
And it wasn't because they weren't used to sleeping next to each other.
The exact opposite, actually.
They'd both had been mulling over the better part of the night about Garrus and his 'proposition' on actually joining Cerberus. It made for a terrible conversation piece. So she held her tongue.
"Anything I need to be made aware of?" Juel asked by leaning forward a little bit to push the issue.
"No." Tali replied before yawning, "It's fine. I'll tell you later sometime. What's that?" Tali pointed at the bag Juel put down on the table.
"Food."
"What did you get?"
"Uhm, let me see." Juel looked up and started listing exotic quarian dishes with his fingers, "Fresh ins'k filet, seared ju'pah vessel, and syalak for Shepard."
"Liar." Tali mumbled.
"Syalak," John said with a mundane grunt, "Tali told me back on the Normandy that 'syalak' tastes like battered varren shit."
John peered into the plastic bag.
"I was being sarcastic." Juel said exasperatedly, "Tali's very aware that the Neema doesn't own a buffet, and a choice in the matter doesn't exist." He chided with a scoff. "I got some paste for Tali and I, and some…" Juel fetched for one of the tubes and read it, "Eggs and… er, pohtaetoh for you in your food box." He stuffed the tube back in the bag, "And we need to leave in five minutes if we want to make it on time. We're meeting with the others to get taxied to the Rayya."
"Ax'kah." Tali said quietly enough for Juel not to hear.
"Let's go then." John swayed with his hand for Juel to lead the way as he got up. Tali grabbed the bag of food and followed Juel with John.
"How you feeling?" He asked after tapping her shoulder.
"I could use some coffee." Tali replied, "We hardly got any sleep."
"I know. I'm still thinking about last night too." The hallways started getting more crowded with people.
"What should we do?"
"I have no idea. We'll think more of it when we're on our way to you know where."
"Okay." The three of them started climbing the ladders.
Tali glanced at John and smiled. "How do you like it here so far?"
"Everything I hoped it would be." He replied with a grin.
"Good. It's not like you're allowed to say otherwise." Tali laughed.
John snorted at the joke and shook his head as they kept climbing. "Have to ask. Why no elevator for the quarters?"
"It's been broken since before I got here. We haven't been able to find the parts to get a replacement."
"Oh." He made this gesture that amounted to a shrug, "Ah, you don't need them. It's good exercise for the legs anyways."
"Okay, you straight-legged freak." Tali teased. She poked his thigh with her two toes to make a point.
"You wanna make fun of my legs? Seriously? How many times have you stubbed your toes with those chicken feet?"
Tali looked at her feet before glaring at him. They finally reach the Neema's main floor and hobbled off the ladders.
"More than I care to admit. And I know exactly what a chicken is. I googled it."
"Did you." John retorted with a smirk.
"And my feet look nothing like that."
Juel's eyes flattened at their aimless conversation.
"Yeah, okay." John retorted passively.
"They're bad-ass claw feet." Tali shot back.
It was John's turn to roll his eyes as he tapped Juel's shoulder. "Yeah. Bad-ass. You should have seen the bed she ruined back at the hotel, Juel. What a mess."
Tali's jaw dropped. "Juel. Juel, listen to me. He's lying."
"You know what," Juel raised his hands and swayed his head in a way that told him he wasn't in the least bit interested, "That'd be a story worth keeping for when I need it. But keep it to yourself."
Juel turned away and kept walking. John shrugged, took a full-on punch on the shoulder, and watched Tali keep her distance from both of them.
John pulled himself into a laugh.
"I bet that smile's gonna disappear when you meet my dad." Tali said without ever looking back at him.
The smile evaporated off his face.
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In about two seconds, John was about to meet Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya.
A man known to virtually every quarian alive.
Responsible for the lives of seventeen million people.
Responsible for their safety and well-being.
Responsible for the fleet's resources and for whom they would be dispensed for.
And a dozen other things John was sure he could add to that list.
John took in a deep breath, stared at Tali, and walked through the doors to the conference room.
There, by himself, was Rael'Zorah in the flesh, with a single light hovering above him as he reviewed notes in a paper book.
By no extension did he look like an admiral. Besides the small cloth patch on his left breast, there weren't any other markings Shepard could make out.
His realk sported the same pattern scheme as Tali's, although his was more of a bluish-gray tone.
If he noticed John, Tali, and Juel walk in, he paid it no mind.
John had to stop himself from marching directly to the man before saluting and standing at attention.
Or maybe he'd like that.
"Tali." Rael greeted.
He looked up to her before immediately looking at John. "Who is this?"
"Shepard?" She whispered while her hands wrung anxiously, "Would you like to introduce yourself?"
Rael faced the commander again. John stood up straighter.
"Commander John Alan Shepard. Alliance Navy."
Rael turned back to Tali. "Is this a joke?"
"No, dad. It isn't. Shepard's alive. And you're looking at him."
Rael stood up from his chair, put his hands behind his back, and walked straight up to John.
"You said he passed, Tali." Rael said as if John wasn't standing right in front of him.
"I got better," John replied, "sir."
"Why are you here?"
"Seeking asylum."
"From whom?"
"Cerberus."
Rael nodded, and seemingly satisfied with Shepard's answer, sat back down. "Is that all?"
John grimaced.
Tali wasn't kidding. This man was hard to keep a conversation with. Even a professional one. And the way Tali was lightly bouncing on her toes only made him feel that more uncomfortable.
"No. Tali told me she's on a mission. I want to be a part of it."
"Absolutely not." Rael opened his book again and resumed his notes.
He tossed a confused glance to both Tali and Juel while his mouth hung slightly open.
"I don't think you fully understand what's going on, Admiral." John intoned politely.
"I do." Rael looked back up and didn't bother setting his pen down, "Two years you've spent destroying my daughter's life on the periphery of your actions. Unintentional or not, those two years will be two she'll never get back. Whatever string you've plucked with Cerberus is none of the Migrant Fleet's concern."
John was shocked. So shocked in fact, that John had to rethink what he just said.
It didn't look like Rael was done ranting. "She loved you, Commander Shepard. It was evident in the way she grieved for you. Though her mourning seems unfounded now; since the man she lost is standing in front of me."
Rael jotted down a sentence in his book. "I will not let her go down that path again."
"That's not your choice to make." Tali murmured.
He jammed a punctuation mark at the end of his sentence and pointed the end of his pen at her. "This is not up for debate. This man goes in hiding and doesn't make even the slightest effort in contacting any of you? Who's to say he isn't an imposter? Who's to say he isn't some charlatan, hubristic, simpleton out to make a gain from my daughter?"
"Now you hold on one second." John pointed straight at Rael, "I was dead. And now you owe me an apology."
Rael was quiet and put his pen down slowly.
"In reference to what? My spiteful 'insinuation'? Please, Mr. Shepard: Enlighten me. You think me a fool to take you at your word? The situation you've herded yourself into doesn't leave much to interpret."
John leaned forward and felt like his teeth were ready spew words he hadn't felt like saying in a long time. He hammered away the anger and explained himself instead.
"But it does. Cerberus found my body. And brought me back. And here I am. Getting the hell away from them. And I am not, under any circumstance, an impostor, nor do I intend to make any gain from your daughter."
Rael kept staring and John swallowed hard. "Now that you've got the gist of what's going on, interested in hearing more?" John included.
When the silence ensued, John started to wonder what exactly was swimming in the admiral's head.
Either he was going to listen, escort him to a cell to rot, or shoot him in the head. So far, the game looked even.
John swallowed.
"Elaborate." Rael finally asked without sounding like he was asking.
"The details are vague. Some things I can remember. And some things I can't." John shrugged, "What do you want to know?"
"What cell group were you in?"
"Lazarus cell."
"The operatives assigned to your 'reincarnation'?"
"Operatives Miranda and Wilson." John's brows scrunched up, "Hold on. How do you know how Cerberus works?"
"They've initiated contact with potential job offers in the past. All of it years ago. And all of them declined respectfully. Just from that, we've learned that they work in cells and have up to three operatives known personally by The Illusive Man to oversee them."
John quickly saw himself standing on some common ground. It may have been just moments ago that they'd just acquainted (albeit horribly), but John decided to take the chance at mentioning the Idenna.
With luck, it'd put him under a better light for Rael to look through.
"Tali told me they attacked one of your ships a while back."
Rael nodded and John had to smile at that. Seemed like Tali's dad was opening up a little bit now.
"Yes. They did. They'd even sent us a well-mannered apology, if memory serves. Something along the lines of preserving 'Cerberus Interests'."
"That's sick."
"It is." Rael agreed, "Fair is fair. They were reimbursed for their letter via orbital bombardment on not just one, but two of their cells in the traverse."
"Tell me you hit them right where they needed to be."
"Oh, we did." Rael let a small grim smile show, "They've yet to reply to our letter of apology."
"You never told me about this, father." Tali said dumbfounded, "I could've helped."
"None necessary, Tali. No need to get caught up in government-sanctioned vendettas."
"I have to ask, who were they after when they attacked your ship?" John crossed his arms.
"Your own kind. They've been granted protection and asylum some time ago." Rael replied.
"Who are they?"
"I'm not at liberty to say. Shala is in charge of that. I don't even know their names."
"Sir. You want more information on Cerberus. And I want to participate in this mission with Tali. Can we make a bargain?"
Rael twirled the pen he held around slowly as he chewed over the idea. "Prove to me your Commander Shepard."
This time, John knew how to answer this one. And in this way, Tali would know without a doubt it was him through and through.
"The last time I saw Tali before I died… was on the Denmark. It was one deck above the hangar, right next to the elevator. I told her: 'Do your magic, hun; I'll be back before you know it.'"
John looked down and stared at the floor. "Took me two years to get back. Sorry Tali."
Tali didn't bother saying anything.
"Is what he said true, Tali?"
"Yes." She murmured.
Rael took one deep breath and relented. "Very well. Take your seats. The briefing will start in ten minutes."
John let out the biggest breath he'd ever held in his life.
"Thank you, sir."
Rael ignored him.
Tali waved him over to take a seat. When he did, John glanced at the conspicuously silent Juel before looking at Rael who remained at his desk writing in his book.
"Tali, I talk with your dad again, he's going to give me cancer."
"That went so well." Tali said instead, "I was expecting a fistfight or something."
"I'm surprised he even mentioned our relationship." John twiddled his thumbs and kept his stare forward, "But I think I got on his good side with mentioning Cerberus."
"You certainly did score some points." Tali added, "You did good, John."
"Yeah. I hope so. How long do briefings like this go?"
"Two hours before an intermission. Then maybe another two hours. We're planning on staying at Haestrom for a while."
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"And this is why we need to buff out the Cerberus logo." Garrus hissed as he dragged the half-naked screaming woman covered in horrendous tattoos to a jail cell.
They took the elevator down, and Garrus had to pin the woman twice against the corner (a little more forcefully than he needed to) to make her stop struggling. She wasn't much without her blue magic.
Miranda kept facing forward with her hands placed squarely behind her back and tried to ignore the insanities subject-zero was spewing from her blood caked mouth.
So far, Miranda had been called a slut, a raging cunt, a whore with a prolapsed ass, a bitch, a fanatic cock-sucker, cum dumpster, blah, blah, blah.
Miranda didn't take too kindly to the insults but ignored them nonetheless.
The op had not turned out in the best of fashions.
Four Cerberus soldiers and two of Garrus' men were killed from the whole skirmish between the Blue-Suns, mechs, prisoners, and of course, Subject Zero.
And it all started because Zaeed had an immense amount of history with the Blue Suns. And when Miranda learned that, she instantly regretted having Zaeed join them on a bloody Blue Suns station for the transfer.
Zaeed did not, by any means, instigate the situation. The Blue-Suns had started it by trying to tackle the mercenary and cuff him for their supposed leader 'Vido Santiago'. To 'end a fight that'd been decades in the making.'
Under no circumstance were they going to leave Zaeed behind. Not only was he a competent individual, but Garrus, with the permission of Miranda of course, made a very vocal rule among the crew to not leave anyone behind for their time on the Normandy. Having Zaeed hauled away like meat on a slab to a cell like the prisoners here constituted as such.
That and it didn't do well for loyalty or morale to know that you'd run the risk of being signed off by your peers as a statistic before having the Illusive man read the report and send in a replacement.
It just wasn't going to happen.
Miranda and Garrus barely had a moment to exchange glances before putting a bullet into the three mercenaries that escorted them for Jack's transfer, including the men who made an attempt to haul off Massani.
Everything spiraled down from there.
Eventually, after they had released subject-zero from her cell, and after they had finally caught up to her, tried to convince the erratic woman to join their cause.
And as soon as the half-naked woman saw that Miranda and the Normandy were sporting a Cerberus logo, she attacked them.
The monster had been tazed, pepper sprayed, flash-banged, and riddled with bruises from rubber bullets and bean-bags. And it still wasn't enough to stop the woman. By the time they had her in cuffs and had deactivated her biotics, she'd killed two of Garrus' men.
The batarian and salarian.
Miranda said nothing when she opened the door to the cell before helping Garrus put subject zero inside.
"I'm sorry, Garrus." Miranda finally said when Garrus closed the sound-proof glass door.
The wall thudded repeatedly from subject zero's fists. It went on like that for a full minute until her knuckles were bloody.
Garrus watched it all with a tight lipped frown.
"Tell that to the six people we lost today, Mrs. Lawson. I lost two of my own for a psycho that isn't the least bit concerned about what we're going up against. We decide at the end of the day if we put a bullet in the back of her head. Am I clear?"
"That isn't your decision." Miranda said.
Garrus' jaw clenched and he leaned near the wall with his back facing her.
"You're right." He said before rearing on her.
He unholstered his firearm in an intentionally theatric display and thrust it her way. "It's yours, Miranda. Make the decision. I'll be the first to send her body out an airlock with what she did to my people. Our people."
Garrus walked past Mordin who'd just walked out of the elevator before pressing the button to get himself back up to give the rest of his team the bad news.
Mordin watched Garrus lean back in the lift before the doors closed.
"Heard what happened." Mordin began, "Came as soon as I could."
"Dr. Solus. Is Dr. Chakwas on her way?"
"Yes. Had things to grab. Paralytics. Suppressants." Mordin's wide eyes examined Jack and tapped his chin, "Damage superficial, I hope?"
Miranda gave subject zero a careful once over and shook her head. "Not exactly. Potential concussions. Bruised ribs, possibly broken finger, and quite likely a broken nose."
"Can tell." Mordin breathed.
Jack spat a blood-ridden loogie at the glass and Mordin watched it dribble down to the floor.
Mordin pointed to the gun Miranda carried. "Rifle still in hands. Why?" He asked, "Prepared for something?"
Miranda looked at the rifle and shook her head. "No." She lied. Garrus' words rung in her head.
"But Garrus' rifle." He pointed at the markings. It took the salarian all of a second to see what was going on. "Two of team dead. Direct result of her. Get suspicion he wants to kill her."
Miranda ejected the half spent sink and watched it clatter to floor before leaning the gun against the wall.
"He does."
"Fully agree with him. Risk not worth undertaking. Liability for safety of crew and Normandy itself."
Miranda sighed and couldn't shake the feeling that Garrus and Mordin were right. But she had orders. Justifications to meet for the means to an end.
"We'll work on that, doctor. Right now she is a liability. But hopefully—"
Subject Zero gave them both bloody middle fingers and mouthed 'fuck you' to them.
"—We'll get her to join the cause."
"Tenacity admirable, Mrs. Lawson. But not sure if spent on right things."
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At the very front row was John, Tali, Juel, Prazza, Kal, Olasie, and the rest of the company's respective squad leaders.
After the intermission for everyone to take a break and stretch their legs, they all clambered back into the room and took their seats before the briefing resumed.
The mission was going to be a colossal undertaking. Eighty three men and women were preparing to go to Haestrom.
Twelve scientists to sample the environment and observe Dholen and her planets.
Eight engineers, two of them experts on radiation applications and dark matter.
Three architect specialists (A narrow description given their wide ranged application in the knowledge)
And sixty three soldiers (which also doubled as crew for the ship that would take them to and from the planet).
John, Tali, and Juel were not included in this number.
And the briefing went on for another two hours, and eventually, everyone filed out until only the front row was left.
John leaned his head back on the worn headrest and shook his head.
His fears were justified.
Geth space.
Equipment that was going to be prone to failure.
It was going to be hot.
The buildings were old. Really old.
The MGRS was inaccurate. (Three hundred and sixteen years old to be exact)
The intel was limited.
At least he was surrounded by competency. And he'd acquainted himself with several more quarians.
But the worst of that list?
The Reapers.
The height of the briefing had been when Rael and Han revealed that Tali's Pilgrimage gift—specifically, the data she recovered—contained broadcasts meant for a number of recipients. Of the two they could decipher was the Dohlen system, and the second, being the Illikah system.
This was crucial because the Illikah system was where Ullipses had once existed. The planet where the Normandy had been stranded. The place John had died in orbit over. Or at least, would have died over had the planet not been consumed by a black hole.
It couldn't have been a coincidence. Not with Dohlen, Haestrom's parent star, now inexplicably expanding into a red giant.
There was a common denominator here and it didn't take a genius to blame the reapers.
He now understood why Tali had insisted they do this mission.
The leadership grouped up together and discussed amongst themselves about the finer details of the mission. Stuff like, who'd be on what shifts, the equipment they'd be bringing, or how the responsibilities were going to be split.
John's eyes felt like bulging out of his head and the pressure behind his sockets was building.
There was nothing John wouldn't do to just sit down in some loungewear, sip some coffee, and go over the operation order printed out on a packet of paper. Call it weird, but it was therapeutic in a way. He'd also admit that having Tali sleeping in his bed would help. Something to look at and admire when he'd rest his eyes from reading and reviewing. Call it creepy, or even really creepy, but it didn't sound like it could get any better than that.
What John would do if he could get a pot of hot coffee to himself. If he took Garrus on his offer (Which he probably was going to do), then the first stop he'd make prior to joining the second "Normandy" would be wherever they could get a coffee maker.
"Tali. Commander Shepard." Prazza waved them over to join the huddle, "Juel. You too." He added.
"What's up?" Tali asked when they all joined.
"We want to know more about the reapers." Kal answered quietly. Everyone nodded.
John and Tali exchanged glances.
"What do you want to know?" John shrugged.
"Everything." Kal motioned, "At least what you know."
"Well. Where do I begin?" He put his hands on his hips and decided he start with anything that was on the forefront of his thoughts, "You saw the vids two years back right? That giant black dreadnought with legs attacking the Citadel?"
"Yeah. Of course. The video with it docking with the Citadel Chambers. Had over a trillion hits." Prazza said with a lilt in his voice. (He didn't want to admit he'd spent a lot of his spare time watching vid-tube)
"Good. Forget everything you know about them. Because everyone is wrong." John said with a sway of his hand, "It was not a geth construct and by no circumstance did it belong to Saren."
"We're aware that the Geth aided themselves with Saren." Kal mentioned carefully.
"It's more complicated than that. The Geth didn't exactly team up with Saren. They teamed up with that Reaper. The giant-legged dreadnought's name was Sovereign. And he was a sentient artificial intelligence."
Ten pairs of unblinking eyes stare straight into John's soul when he spit A.I. from his mouth.
Wow, that was awkward. The barest hint of a frown played across his lips and he blinked rapidly.
Tali intervened to help explain further. John understood how quarians felt. She knew he'd taken to heart how personally she'd taken it all.
He just needed to work on his tact a little more.
"This goes back millions of years." She said with care, "We don't know how they were created or what they want to do with us. All we know is that they cycle around every fifty thousand years to wipe out sentient life across our galaxy."
She could see all of them working to process the nuttiness.
"—What could they possibly get out of that?" Prazza wondered, "Do they do this to other galaxies?"
"I don't know." John answered, "We don't know the 'why' or 'how'. All we know is the 'who' and 'what'."
Some share nods.
Others still seemed unconvinced.
"Look. I know. Believe me. It's hard to wrap your heads around this." John didn't know if his words brought them any comfort, but they needed to know. "Honestly, this is the first time I've ever talked about this to anyone outside of the Alliance and Citadel Council."
John shook his head. "And I'm not even sure if they see it the same way Tali and I do."
"Seems pretty obvious to me." Kal intoned with a grunt, "Plus. The council can screw off. I'd take your judgment over theirs any day of the year."
John tried to smile at the sentiment. He wanted the people in front of him to know. He needed them to understand. But not under the precursor that 'just because the Citadel won't listen, I will.'
"I can understand their reasoning." John defended them lightly, "It's a big stretch to tell them what I did."
Kal was having none of that. And neither was Prazza. "Surely you've given them evidence on the contrary. You've backed your accusations with evidence, correct?" Prazza argued.
"Of course. We recorded everything during our missions."
"And what did they say?" Prazza was pretty sure his question was rhetorical at this point.
John shook his head. "Never got an answer. It's… complicated." He said disappointedly.
He wasn't lying. It really was complicated. But what John really wanted to say was: 'No. I died before they gave me an answer. And I have no clue what opinion the Citadel or Alliance has on the matter.'
For now, he'd keep his mouth shut and help cycle the confusion out of the conversation. The Reapers were doing enough of that.
It looked like Tali didn't give any dissent in trying to downplay the fact he died either.
And because of that, John had no problem believing the Citadel and Alliance did the same to him to what they were doing to Kal, Prazza, and the others now.
The Citadel and Alliance, undoubtedly, buried his image and what he represented before claiming it'd all been some giant misconstrued fallacy and that the reaper threat had really been finished with Saren and his death.
But he was back. And the news had made him a galactic celebrity again.
And because of that, what repercussions would lay in now for him and the rest of Shepard's team and crew?
He and Tali had been broadcasted across the entire galaxy because of Illium's news agencies. Conspiracy theorists and investigators alike would scrounge whatever they could to make sense of it all.
And that announcement wouldn't just affect him. He wondered what would transpire against the others of the Normandy and her crew. They'd be under the spotlight, yet again. And they probably wanted none of it.
Hopefully, if not regrettably, Cerberus was on the job to help delay the inevitable.
He only wondered when all this would fly back and hit both him and Tali right in the ass for that night on Illium at the South Star café.
"This is the way I see it." Prazza threw his opinion in and pointed behind him as if he were pointing straight at the Citadel itself, "It's been two years. If they weren't with you right then and there, then they weren't persuaded. And seeing that everyone unionized with the Citadel hasn't been upping their military prowess or industrial capacity since they destroyed that reaper says something."
Prazza knew it was immensely more complex than that. But there should have been some correlation, right?
"I don't know." John admitted, "I just don't know."
Kal stepped up next to Prazza. "You've got us, at least. It's a start."
"It's more than a start." Tali said aloud, "The conclave and the board are behind the reaper threat."
"There you go. That's something. You've got what pretty much amounts to our entire species then standing right behind you. They may not all know it yet, but they will soon."
Shepard smiled.
He'd lost his ship. Half his crew. Lost all credibility (supposedly) that followed soon after the incident on Ullipses.
He'd lost everything and that included his life.
But he was back.
And now Tali was at his side again. He lived on a new ship. Just got back in contact with his best friend, and suddenly had the backing of seventeen million people and the largest flotilla of ships the galaxy had ever seen.
Even if it was just some platoon lieutenant (which was still a weird title to John) saying it meant all the difference in the galaxy.
John wasn't exactly familiar with the intricacies of quarian government, but if he got backed by the conclave and board, then he'd finally have an ally he could jot down on a list. This war was going to be won with alliances.
John didn't know if Cerberus understood that. Maybe Cerberus was willing to toss aside Humanity's moral compass and scape-goat everyone else in galactic society to preserve what they stood for.
Fortunately, that wasn't going to happen.
Cerberus gave him a second chance. And he was going to fulfill that chance by making it a mission to get the whole galaxy prepared for what would come.
But one nagging little thought tugged at the other side of his rope of hope. How would he go about doing any of that?
To say it was light-years beyond him would be quite an understatement.
By no extension was he some heavily revered political diplomat. A political figure maybe at one point, but nothing else. That alone wasn't going to save the galaxy.
He actually didn't know what would save them. Even if they had banded together, and even if they had united all efforts and fronts, would it make any bigger of a difference? Would the numbers still be trifling on the right side of a decimal point? Would it only amount to a pinchful of victories that weren't even worth mentioning?
Once again, John couldn't answer.
He could understand why Ash way back when would pray every night.
John could almost see the appeal.
It felt like you were doing something in the face of total uncertainty. It felt like you could always fall back on some kind of bigger plan, even when you were backed into the deepest and darkest corner you'd ever been stuffed in. The ambiguity would suddenly not look so ambiguous anymore. Even if the ambiguity was the reapers, and the collectors, and the geth, and a whole slew of other things John could pick through on the top of his head.
But, based on the experiences of John's life, it wouldn't do any good.
Pray all you want. But the reapers weren't going to be defeated by racking up sincere calls to a god.
The Reapers we'ren't going to care about your faith. They certainly hadn't worked to spare anyone from cycles past, confident religion or not.
For all the negativity he could stack into a tower about religion, he still respected Ash's faith. He didn't see eye-to-eye on it, but it wasn't harming anyone.
And, for all he knew, he could be wrong.
One little murmured moment of meditation could transcend across the dimensions and send the reapers packing straight to the place where a god would send on his list of genocidal maniacs who'd finally met their reckoning.
He'd prefer it that way. There'd definitely be a lot less bloodshed.
Speaking of her, he wondered how she was doing. He'd have to find a way to contact her some time. And whoever survived from the old crew.
John replied to Kal finally with a thin smile. "It's something." He repeated.