.
A Dream Within a Dream
Part 1
Chapter 4
Shepard floated in nothingness.
For a brief moment, for an utter eternity, there had been a rushing, a squeezing, a compressing, an elongating. But she had lacked any sense of self with which to feel, process, or understand any of it.
And then she awoke within the red world of her dream.
Her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, a rush that drowned out all other sound. She was submerged in some sort of thick, warm liquid within a vertical pod, her only view of the world around her being a window just before her.
Looking down, she could see her hands and arms, and for a moment she marveled that she even had a body. Her mind was a patchwork of sensations, thoughts flicking in and out before she could grab onto any of them.
Her breath hitched as her eyes trailed up one arm, latching onto a series of strange tubes that protruded from her skin. Looking down, she could see similar tubes coming out of her other arm, her torso, and a number coming out from her legs as well. Besides the tubes, she was completely naked.
Her breathing began to quicken as she struggled to comprehend what she was seeing, the beginnings of memories filtering through her mind at an alarming rate. Saren dropping her off the building, stepping into the glass tube, a three fingered hand pressed against it as it quickly filled with water…
With great effort, she began to move her arms, slowly bringing them up to touch one of the tubes tentatively. She struggled to turn, to spin about, but something seemed to be anchoring her firmly to the back of her pod.
Her hands snaked up to her head, and with shock, she registered her smooth, bald head as her fingers raked across her scalp. They continued their journey around, pausing with growing horror as she felt the large tube protruding out from the base of her skull.
Her panicked breathing came faster as her hands drew back as though burned. This wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare. This couldn't be real, how was she even breathing? She was completely submerged in the warm liquid, she shouldn't be able to breathe. And yet, her chest extended and compressed with the movements of breathing as though it was air, not liquid, that she sucked in through her nose and mouth.
Shepard's focus was drawn to the glass panel in front of her as something outside moved. A platform approached, stopping just before her as two creatures looked up at her through the window. There was a loud click, and the entire front of the pod detached and rose upwards. With a rush, the warm, red liquid around her spilled out of the pod, leaving Shepard hanging limply as she gagged and coughed, her chest heaving.
There was a pop, and one of the tubes on her arm detached, followed by another, then another. Suddenly, they were all detaching with loud pops and hisses, flailing about like angry snakes. Without warning, intense pain stabbed through her brain, and her vision went white with star bursts as the largest tube at the base of her skull spun, finally retracting like some sort of plug. The final tubes along her spine finally released, and Shepard pitched forward like a rag doll.
She hit the platform hard as she struggled to move, but she felt as weak as a newborn baby. Rough, callused hands reached down and flipped her over, and she came face to face with demonic creatures unlike anything she'd ever seen. They were strangely insectoid, with four bright, glowing eyes that stared down at her blankly. Their heads sloped back, elongated and terrifying, and their grayish naked bodies were oddly plated and muscular. Folded against their backs, partially confined behind plates, were thin delicate insect wings.
Shepard would have screamed if she'd been able, but all she could do was stare in horror as she attempted to gasp and cough up the remaining liquid in her lungs. The creatures just watched passively, and after a moment, Shepard's gaze traveled upwards.
The space around her was enormous, the scale so huge that she couldn't process what she was seeing. The chasm stretched upwards into the heavens, with thousands of small red windows peering down at her. Each window belonged to a pod, one exactly like hers. She turned her head to the side to gaze up at the one just beside her own open pod, and through the window, she could see the sleeping face of a human man.
The creatures made a chittering noise, and the platform jerked forward. Shepard tried to roll over, but her body screamed and her head ached as she coughed. She could barely breathe, her vision darkening as she gasped and struggled.
The platform jerked again, and the creatures bent down and grasped Shepard roughly around the arms. She was thrust forward, and suddenly she was falling down a dark, slick tube. It seemed to continue on forever until finally it ended abruptly and she was left to plummet downward through open air.
She landed with a splash, and her arms came up instinctually as she attempted to keep her head above water. But she was too weak, her arms moving in small, spasmodic movements, completely out of her control. She began to sink below the surface, horrific memories of her death in the glass tube resurfacing.
Then there was light. A bright beam of light. It searched around aimlessly before finally landing directly upon her as she sank. There were arms grabbing her, hauling her upwards, and she found herself shivering on a cold steel floor. She looked upwards, her vision blurring as she fought for consciousness.
A familiar, dark-skinned face swam into view, and Anderson smiled down at her tiredly as someone draped a rough blanket over her.
"Welcome, Shepard. You've finally made it."
With a ragged cough, darkness overwhelmed her, and she sank into it gratefully.
Shepard flitted in and out of consciousness. She caught snippets of images and sounds, but she never remained long enough to register anything but pain before she was lost in the darkness again. She could feel the hard table beneath her, and she could see the faces of people above her, but there was a hazy, dreamlike quality to it all that made it impossible to process.
When she finally opened her eyes, she was alone. She immediately shut them as pain lanced through her head. Carefully, she opened them again, thankful for the dim lights. She gazed up at the ceiling above her, taking in the worn panels and exposed tubes, rusted vents, and old wires. Slowly, she sat up and looked around. A rough blanket slipped off her, but to her surprise, she found herself completely dressed and sitting upon some sort of exam table. She fingered the rough, worn sweater she wore, not recognizing it as anything she'd ever owned. Her loose pants were equally worn and threadbare with evidence of extensive darning.
The whispers of a memory slipped through her brain, and she eyed her arm. She held her breath and reached for her sleeve, dragging it back over her arm. Her breath hitched as a dark, metal port was revealed, embedded in her skin. She pulled further, revealing more.
She felt a tug and a twinge of pain. Looking over at her other arm, she could see a thin tube vanishing up her sleeve. She pulled it back to reveal an IV drip plugged into one of her ports. Pinching it carefully, she gave a gentle tug, and out slid the tube with an uncomfortable pinch. She let it fall to the cold metal bed, and took a moment to marvel at the strange, terrifying ports across her arms.
More memories intruded, and her hand shook as it reached up to run over the quarter inch of soft stubble growing across her scalp. Her fingers continued onward as they trembled, pausing as they hit something round and metallic at the base of her skull.
Shepard withdrew her hand quickly. Her thoughts felt like crackling static as she forced herself not to scream. She'd hoped it'd been some sort of dream, some demented extension to the one she'd often woke from. But if it was a dream, she had yet to wake.
Instead of dwelling on the horrors traced across her skin, she refocused her thoughts as she looked around the room. It appeared to be some sort of medical lab, or perhaps a doctor's office. There were two or three beds besides her exam table, along with extensive shelving and medical equipment, all of it worn with evidence of extensive use and repair. Nothing in the room looked new, not even the bedding.
Against one wall stood a desk, and Shepard's head cocked in confusion as she examined it. Atop it stood a pile of papers. Actual papers. The only paper she'd ever seen had been in a museum back on the Presidium. But here, in this shabby, worn down office, stood an entire pile of them. Beside that was the strangest looking console she'd ever seen. Instead of the usual holo-screens, it had a monitor with a glass screen, much like those she'd seen in that very same museum. Just as strange was the physical keyboard that was positioned before the monitor.
Carefully, Shepard turned enough to let her legs dangle over the edge of the bed. She was wearing a worn pair of combat boots, and as she wriggled her toes, she registered that they were surprisingly comfortable, clearly well worn.
There was a loud clank, and Shepard's eyes shot to an oval door in the far wall as its latch turned. The door opened, and the beautiful, black-haired woman from the warehouse stepped inside. Or at least, she might have been the same woman, but she seemed so different that it was hard to say.
Instead of the flowing ebony locks she'd had last time, her hair now was tied back in a loose braid over one shoulder, and it lacked the same luster it'd had before. She wore no makeup, and the evidence of sleeplessness and fine lines lingering around her eyes. She'd worn a sleek white and black jumpsuit the first time Shepard had seen her, but now she wore a few layers of threadbare clothes in muted tones much like Shepard's, complete with rips and patches.
"Good morning," the woman stated briskly as she walked to the desk and picked up a clipboard, glancing down at one of the papers there. "I figured you'd be waking up soon." She continued reading as she lifted the page to view the one beneath it, and Shepard shifted awkwardly.
"Where…" She coughed, her voice hoarse and sore, "Where am I?" The woman looked up, and she replaced the clipboard before turning to face her completely.
"You are aboard the UCS Normandy," she stated calmly before stepping closer and reaching for Shepard's arm. Shepard drew back, snatching her hand from the other woman's reach, which caused her to raise a single slim, dark eyebrow. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to check your vitals." Shepard hesitantly gave over and let the woman take her wrist in her cold, firm grip.
"Who are you? And what's happened to me?" Shepard asked as she worked to maintain a facade of calm. The woman placed two fingers on her pulse point as she looked down at a small digital watch on her wrist.
"You may call me Miranda. And I'll leave the rest of your no doubt endless questions for when Anderson arrives. I'm told his bedside manner is preferable," Miranda stated, her voice cool and detached as she released Shepard's arm and reached for a stethoscope. Placing its tips in her ears, she carefully rested its icy diaphragm against Shepard's chest. After a moment, she nodded and drew back, placing the stethoscope back on the desk. She picked up a small device and held it out to her.
"First, I'll need you to place this in your right ear." Shepard took the small ear bud, examining it before carefully inserting it.
"What's it for?" It was comfortable enough that she easily see herself forgetting about it.
"It helps with translating turian speech. We have two turian crew members, and so you will need it. Now, wait here. I'll go get Anderson."
With that, Miranda made for the door. She reached for the latch and turned it before pulling the door open. She stepped through and closed the door with a clang behind herself.
Why didn't this 'Normandy' have automatic doors with holo-controls? She couldn't think of a single manual door anywhere on the Citadel, except for maybe an old closet or maintenance access. And paper?
The door opened again, and in stepped Anderson, followed by Garrus. Much like in the case of Miranda, Shepard had to pause in surprise at their altered appearances. Gone were the sleek, well-tailored outfits, fancy visors, and high-tech weaponry. Anderson's face seemed even more tired and lined than before, with deep bags beneath his eyes. His sweater was much less patched and darned than hers, but still it looked about as old as he was.
And she nearly gasped as she laid eyes on Garrus. His facial plates, duller than before, were covered by the same markings, but faded now to a dim blue, lacking the vibrancy of before. What caught her breath was the extensive scarring that stretched across the side of his jaw, his mandible, and down his neck, disappearing beneath his threadbare shirt and sweaters. She must have been staring, because he looked away after a moment, his eyes downcast.
"Shepard, it's good to see you up and moving. How are you feeling?" Anderson asked as he approached, but she ignored his question in lieu of her own.
"Anderson, where is this place? What happened to me?" She reached for her sleeve and wrenched it up to reveal the ports. "And what the fuck are these?" Anderson stopped before her bed and gazed down at her with empathy and understanding.
"This is my ship, the Normandy. It is one of the Migrant Fleet's upload and combat frigates. We're currently in hiding within the Exodus Cluster."
Shepard felt like the sentence should have been a gold mine of information, and yet she could only latch onto a single thought.
"We're in space? I'm not on the Citadel anymore?" She asked in awed confusion as her eyes widened. "I've finally left the Citadel?" Anderson's smile was bittersweet as he nodded.
"Yes," was his only reply. He watched as Shepard struggled to accept the information, then he nodded curtly and gestured to the door. "This is not something that can be explained with words. Come with me. See for yourself." With that, he turned and led the way to the door. Shepard stood on shaky legs and shivered as she put the worn blanket back on the bed.
Looking up, she noted the large, circular port at the base of Anderson's skull, just above his neck, and felt a completely different chill. She made for the door, and Garrus nodded silently to her as she passed. He turned to follow after her.
Shepard stepped through the small portal into something like a hallway. It was just as dim as the room she'd woken up in, and though it was clean and well cared for, there were signs of age and wear everywhere, from the rusted rivets to the creaking floor. Somewhere, an old light flickered. There were doors, complete with handwheel latches, both before her and to her left, but Anderson led her to the right. The ship seemed like something of a maze, doors and passages branching off into various other areas, but he moved to a rickety ladder and began climbing upward.
Shepard began climbing after him, and once again Garrus followed behind her. The ladder groaned, and she couldn't help but wonder if this ship was being held together by spit and prayers. When they reached the top of the ladder, they stepped out into what appeared to be a control room.
"Welcome to the CIC. This is the information center of the ship. You've already met Miranda." He gestured to the black-haired woman standing at a nearby console as she typed on a keyboard. She looked up briefly and nodded in greeting, her face blank and her eyes weighing. "She is our doctor, as well as my XO. She takes care of the smooth running of the ship and its crew."
Shepard nodded in reply, noting the numerous glass screened monitors in wonder. Not a single normal looking console or holo-display in sight. The screens displayed charts and graphs, all sorts of information she had no idea what to do with. The grates underfoot creaked and groaned as Anderson continued on through the CIC and gestured to the dark-skinned man she remembered seeing in the warehouse.
"This is Jacob, and I believe you've also already met Vega here." Anderson gestured to both men, and Jane nodded to them both in turn. Vega, the heavily muscled man who had rescued her in the skycar along with Garrus, simply turned in his seat at his workstation and flashed her a smirk with a casual salute.
"Lola. Good to see you up and about. You're rocking the haircut." She raised a brow at him and snorted as his smile only widened. Jacob turned and got up from his seat as he held his hand out, which she took in a hesitant hand shake.
"Good to meet you, Shepard. Welcome aboard."
"Thanks," Shepard muttered before Anderson continued onward.
"And this over here," Anderson gestured to the final crew member in the CIC, "is Sidonis." The turian with faded purple facial markings turned just enough to nod a greeting in her direction.
"Welcome," he grunted coldly before turning back to his work, and Shepard paused, unsure of herself. Had she already done something to insult him?
"Don't mind him," Garrus muttered quietly as Anderson began leading them out of the CIC along a narrow hallway. "He's never particularly warm with newcomers."
"I see," Shepard replied quietly, but froze as they entered the cockpit.
Buttons, toggles, displays, gauges, knobs, dials, and switches, switches, switches. Shepard's head spun as she took in the complicated controls before the pilot's seat. A young man standing beside the pilot's chair turned as they entered.
"Next, this is Jenkins, the most recent addition to the crew besides yourself." Anderson nodded to Jenkins, who seemed little more than a teenager. He grinned as he quickly put down his clipboard and reached for her hand, shaking it vigorously.
"Welcome, Shepard! I'm so happy everything worked out and you're here!" Jenkins beamed at her, every moment seeming younger and younger. Shepard blinked at his exuberance, and Anderson smiled affectionately as he patted Jenkins on the shoulder.
"Don't take her arm off now, son. There will be time enough for that later."
"Ah, yes! Of course. It's so nice to meet you, Shepard." Jenkins laughed as he stepped back and waved before turning to pick up his clipboard and returning his focus to the computer he'd been monitoring.
"And this," Anderson stepped up beside the pilot's chair, "is our pilot, Joker." The pilot turned to look back at her with a small, sardonic smile.
"Well, if it isn't our newest addition. Looking a little shell-shocked, aren't you," Joker drawled as he readjusted his odd, dilapidated hat. His elbow shifted on his armrest, bringing his bare forearm into view.
"You… you don't have…" Shepard trailed off as her eyebrows drew down in confusion. Her hand came up automatically to grip her own forearm, feeling the impression of the ports beneath her shirt.
"Oh, you mean those ugly plugs?" He grinned as he eyed her arm. Shifting, he drew his sleeve up further to display his fully bare arm. "Yep. No ports, not a single one. I'm one hundred percent free born human, baby." He winced as he shifted again. "Not that that's done me a whole lot of good, though."
Shepard turned a confused look to Anderson, who shook his head gently. "There will be time for questions later. Let's head back down below. There's more to show you." Without a word, Shepard followed after him as he left, Garrus trailing silently behind her. Together, the three of them made their way through the CIC and back down the ladder to what she now saw was marked as the 'Crew Deck'.
Taking a different path, they looped around into what looked like some sort of living quarters. What appeared to be an old, scuffed metal dining table took up a good deal of the space along with a strange, mix matched set of chairs. Vents, tubes, and wires hung overhead, and much like the rest of the ship, signs of repairs were intermixed with signs of age.
The quarian she had met at the warehouse, the one who had applied the sensor pads, was sitting at the table and looking over papers strewn about, an empty tub of nutrient paste sitting discarded nearby. The quarian looked up as they entered and did a double take as her eyes landed on Shepard. She stood quickly, her papers scattering as she spun about.
"This is our resident engineer, Tali." Anderson introduced her as Tali held out her hand. Shepard shook it, noticing with confusion the old, faded fabric adorning her envirosuit. There were signs that it had once been hand woven with care, but now carried age like an old burden. Her suit, which had seemed so new and shiny before, now appeared older than she did, clearly dinged and dented, and carefully repaired numerous times.
"It's nice to meet you! Officially, that is. I know we spoke for a moment before, but I'm glad to actually meet you." Tali hummed happily as they let go, and she lifted a hand to tug anxiously at the cloth draped over her helmet.
"It's nice to meet you, too," Shepard murmured in reply, and she saw Tali's luminous eyes crinkle in evidence of a smile.
"And over here is the final member of the crew, besides Garrus, whom you've already met." Anderson walked over to a complicated workstation that was tucked into a nearby nook. There sat an asari, her attention glued to a number of monitors as her fingers flicked over an extensive keyboard. "This is Liara T'Soni, our operator."
At the sound of her name, Liara looked up abruptly, her eyes dazed as though she'd been existing on an entirely different plane of reality. Seeing them, she blinked and removed her headset before standing.
"Shepard. It is so good to finally meet you." Liara bowed her head slightly, a soft smile on her face as she looked up. "I know it was a difficult journey for you, but I'm glad you have finally made it."
"I, uh-" Shepard's hand came up to rub the back of her neck awkwardly at the warmth of the welcome, "Thanks." But before she could say more, Liara's eyes flicked to Anderson.
"Are you both ready?" She asked, and Anderson nodded curtly. Liara sat back down and pulled the strange keyboard closer with one hand as she expertly flicked the headset back over her head.
"Shepard," Anderson said evenly as he turned to her and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You wanted to understand the truth about the Citadel." Shepard nodded mutely as she swallowed down sudden nerves, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. "If you're ready, then it's time."
He turned to nod to Garrus, who walked around Liara's workstation and up a small set of stairs onto a catwalk that stretched back into the ship. Along the catwalk were a number of strange pods that gave Shepard a chill, remembering her time within a pod not that long ago. Garrus reached forward to tap a few buttons on a control panel beside the first one, and the front of the pod popped open before sliding upwards. Anderson gestured for Shepard to follow as Garrus moved down to repeat the process with the next pod.
"Am I supposed to just get in?" Shepard turned a questioning eye to Anderson, and he nodded.
"Yes. Try to relax." With that, he and Garrus helped her into the first pod, making adjustments to ensure she was comfortable. It was angled backwards just enough for her to lean back, with specific spots to place her feet, hands, and neck. Once she was snuggly secured, they both stepped back.
"Sit tight," Garrus said as he hit a button on the controls and the pod's door began to shut. "This will feel a little weird." The lights in the pod dimmed, and a tiny display before her started a countdown.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1-
She felt something move near the base of her skull, almost as though something was attempting to line up with the strange new port there. A moment later, her world exploded in pain, the sensation of her brain being split open entirely overwhelming all else. Everything went white and lights burst before her eyes. She clamped them shut, and vaguely registered the feeling of being compressed, as though she were being sucked through a space much too small for her body.
All at once, she was floating in nothingness again. She opened her eyes, and found herself standing in a vast white space. It was completely empty, and impossible to say how big it was. It seemed to ignore all rules of logic as it continued on into eternity.
Shepard looked down at her feet, and with a jolt she realized she didn't even have a shadow. Looking up, she could see no ceiling, no lights, nothing at all. The space didn't make any sense, it couldn't exist. But it clearly did.
"This is what we call the Codex." Shepard spun to find Anderson standing behind her, once again dressed in his sleek suit and long, well tailored, high-collared coat. "You can think of it as a loading program. We can load anything, from clothing," His hands brushed over the front of his coat, "to equipment," He brought his fingers the device over his ears that would display his visor, "to weapons." He opened his coat to display a sidearm holstered on the back of his belt before letting his coat fall shut again. "We can run training and cultural simulations, and access a wealth of information." A smile stretched across his face. "Anything we need."
Shepard's eyes were wide as she took his words in. "Are you telling me we're in some sort of computer program? That none of this is real?" She considered reaching for her arm to pinch herself. That this was a dream seemed much more likely than a simulation.
"Is it really so hard to believe?" Anderson asked lightly as he raised a single eyebrow. "Take a look at your clothing. Your ports. Your hair." Shepard looked down at herself, noticing her old favorite sweatshirt and a nice pair of pants. Frowning, she pushed back the sleeve and noticed her arms were bare, not a single port in sight. Her hand reached up to her neck, her fingers encountering nothing but skin and hair. Hair which was back to its usual shoulder length.
She looked up at Anderson warily, her disbelief clear on her face as she grappled with what she was seeing. "This is the digital projection of your mental self image." Bringing up his arm, an omni-tool appeared around his wrist. He tapped in a command, and suddenly there was a small platform before them. Shepard stepped back, startled by its appearance from thin air even as Anderson boarded it calmly. "Come. I have more to show you."
Shepard eyed it distrustfully. She looked down at her hands again, then back at the platform. Cautiously, she stepped up onto the platform as Anderson smiled encouragingly at her. After a moment, she leaned down to brush the metal floor with an open palm.
"This feels so real. I don't understand." It had to be some sort of dream. There had to be some sort of rational explanation for all of this. Was it just the next step in whatever psychosis she was suffering from? Had she finally fallen down the rabbit hole?
"'Real' is nothing more than electrical signals being interpreted by your brain. It receives them, and tells you what it thinks you are seeing, feeling, hearing, smelling, tasting. So what is real, anyway?" Anderson let the question hang between them as he pulled up his omni-tool again and tapped in another command.
The white world around them dissolved like a drop of ink in a pot of water. Shepard blinked and gasped as they appeared within the Presidium on the Citadel. The water beneath them sparkled, reflecting the synthetic sunshine like tiny diamonds, and people meandered across the long bridges as they went about their daily business.
It was just as she remembered it, to the tiniest detail. She marveled as their platform flew through the air like one of the skycars, the air making her hair and clothing ripple, and even though her feet felt firmly planted on the ground, she braced herself as her stomach swooped with the movement.
"This is the world you call home." Anderson looked out at the bustling activity around them, his hands clasped behind his back. "The Citadel. The seat of galactic politics. A marvel of technology, the mysterious space station first discovered eons ago by the asari."
Shepard blinked again and their platform was suddenly flying through the bright lights of the Zakera Ward Shopping Strip. She watched as skycars passed them by, her knees feeling weak as their tiny platform rocketed along. She took a shaky step back, uncomfortable as she realized how high up they were. Lights flashed around them, and people conducted their shopping without a care in the world.
They began picking up speed as their platform left the Wards behind, shooting out into space as if it were some sort of starship. Despite their lack of spacesuits, they could breathe just fine, and Shepard was beginning to realize that logic had been left behind long ago.
The colossal form of the Citadel hung in space before them, the Serpent Nebula glowing behind it, emphasizing its spectacular silhouette. The ring of the Presidium sparkled in the light, the five prongs of the Wards stretching outwards.
"What they don't realize…" Anderson began as they came to a slow, "Is that it does not exist."
Slowly, the massive space station began to fade, dissolving until nothing remained but empty space and the glowing nebula. Shepard's eyes widened as she turned to stare at Anderson.
"The Citadel is nothing but a neural interactive simulation. The people within it go about their daily lives with no idea that they are living inside a dream." Anderson finally turned to face her, his expression grim as he studied her reaction. Shepard struggled to maintain an even countenance, but she could feel her hands beginning to shake.
"I… I don't understand. How can this possibly be true?"
"Think about it. You've noticed the cracks for a while now. The inconsistencies that can't be explained away. The deep-seated knowledge that something is wrong, that this is not how you were supposed to live your life."
"No, that can't be it. If I noticed it, why doesn't everyone?"
"There are millions of programs within the Citadel whose only purpose is to keep us from noticing the truth. But they can't keep us all contained. Some people's minds begin to awaken, and we are able to see the veil that's been thrown before our eyes."
Shepard began to pace the small platform as her mind raced, and she ran a hand through her hair before tossing her head as a spark of anger flared. "But why? What's the point of it all?"
"It's a prison. A prison for your mind," Anderson whispered, his eyes downcast as he sighed. "The Citadel is a computer generated dream world, built to keep us under control."
"Built by who?" She hissed as she turned back to face him, her control teetering.
"By the Reapers." Anderson's eyes flashed as they met hers again, a cold reflection of Shepard's own rage. Behind him, a truly massive shadow began coalescing. It grew to impossible dimensions as it approached, and her intake of breath was sharp as even more shadows appeared beside it.
The creature that emerged from the darkness was larger than any starship she'd ever seen, and yet there was a terrible consciousness to its movements as it loomed before them. Its tall peak stretched up toward the stars above, while its strange, jointed arms reached out like fingers as though to grasp her.
Shepard took a step backwards, then another, pure terror stabbing her as she forgot to breathe.
"The Reapers," Anderson repeated as more began appearing, their numbers seemingly endless as they filled the skies around them. "We know very little about them. But what we do know is that they are a race of hyper-intelligent sentient machines. They hold absolute rule over the galaxy, allowing no other species to exist in freedom once they have achieved space flight." Anderson turned to gaze out at the army of giant machines poised before them.
"Once a species reaches that point, their entire race is harvested. For what purpose, we can't say. But a small percentage is kept alive, their bodies put into pods and their minds inserted within the Citadel. Generation after generation, they farm us, breeding us like animals. We are born, live our lives, and die within captivity."
The images of the Reapers began to fade, as did the Serpent Nebula around them. Everything faded into pure darkness as Shepard's thoughts swirled, her head pounding painfully. It all had to be some sort of nightmare, perhaps a sick joke.
"Most of us grow up dreaming of visiting Earth." Anderson looked over his shoulder at her. "Little do we know that we spend our entire lives there." The darkness faded to be replaced by a city around them. Shepard looked up as she marveled at the blue sky high above. Soft white clouds drifted past, and birds flapped their wings, catching a breeze as they flew over.
Then she noticed the buildings. They were decrepit ruins, crumbling even as she watched. Green growth had overtaken the city, trees sprouting up from what had once been a sidewalk or road, and vines taking over the walls that had not yet fallen to the ground.
"The 1960s. Humanity reached for the stars. Spaceflight was in its infancy, and yet we dreamt of greater heights as we looked up into the heavens and wondered what was out there." Anderson murmured as he crossed his arms, and Shepard turned to see mounds covered in vegetation. With shock, she recognized them as having once been old earth style cars, complete with wheels.
"Then, the Reapers arrived," Anderson growled as he frowned at the cars. "We didn't stand a chance." The world around them blurred as it shifted. Before them stood towering structures made of some unrecognizable rock-like material. The ragged, giant pillars pierced the ground and stretched up towards the clouds. Nothing grew for miles around, a dry and cracked wasteland, and dread pooled in Shepard's belly as their platform approached.
"Besides those of us that belong to the Migrant Fleet, the remaining humans are kept here. In the farms." The platform descended into one of the massive, hollow structures, and Shepard fought the urge to be sick. Within, along the inner walls, were thousands of pods, the windows of which glowed a dull red. Within each pod was the sleeping face of a person, blissfully unaware of the nightmare surrounding them.
"Here, they sleep, their minds trapped within the dream they are utterly unaware of. Day after day, they go about their business within the Citadel with no knowledge of the truth: that they are prisoners within a fabricated dream world. They have been pacified, calmed, controlled. They are little more than chattel."
Shepard's breaths came ragged as her gaze jerked from pod to pod, unable to escape the horrifying truth surrounding her as her entire body buzzed with horror. Her own experience of waking up within this place tasted like bile on her tongue as she spun about, her movements jerky as panic built in her chest.
"This can't be real," she whispered as her eyes traveled upward, the pods all glaring down at her as her heart beat like thunder in her ears. "No." She spun around again, suddenly dizzy as she lost control of her breathing, her limbs going numb. "All of this… It's impossible. This is some kind of nightmare."
Shepard stumbled backwards off the platform, and the world around her vanished in a flash. She was back within the pure white nothingness of the Codex, Anderson watching her closely as he stood before her. His eyes felt like drills as they bore into her, and she wanted to disappear, to cease to exist just as that horrible place had moments before.
"This is all a lie. Let me go." She spun and ran into the empty void, her footsteps echoing around her. "Let me out!" She screamed as she clamped her eyes shut, the desire to claw at herself building, to rip the images from her brain.
Shepard blinked and gasped. She was back within the dimness of the sim pod, the white of the Codex gone as if it had never been. For a gut wrenching moment, she thought she was still within the farm back on Earth, but then she recognized the Normandy through the window before her. Her fists slammed into the door as a wordless scream bubbled up from her chest, building in intensity as she struggled to move. Her head remained clamped in place, incapable of budging with the plug still attached, and her eyes clenched shut in pain as she tugged against it.
There was a sickening sensation at the base of her skull, and a sudden sense of loss shook her as something twisted and extracted. Her head came free just as the door hissed and sprang open.
"Whoa there." Garrus caught her as she threw herself from the pod. "Breathe, you're going to be alright." Her limbs thrashed in his grip of their own accord as a single thought pounded throughout her mind.
Run.
"Let go of me!" She screeched as she panted, her fist finally coming free. It collided with the side of his face, and she heard him grunt in pain as his hands fell away. She took off as fast as she could, vaguely registering the concerned faces of Tali and Liara as she darted past them.
Her feet carried her out of the room, even though she had no idea where she could go. She found herself facing a number of identical doors, their handwheel latches shut but not locked. She picked one at random and spun it until the door swung open and she launched herself inside.
Shepard froze as she came face to face with the open majesty of space. Her breath caught as she gazed through an enormous window that looked out over the stars beyond. The door hung open behind her as her feet carried her closer, but after a moment, her legs wobbled and gave out without warning.
Slumping to her knees before the window, she felt the truth settle in around her.
This was real. She had truly left the Citadel. Her life as she'd known it was gone. She'd been ripped from the comfort of ignorance like a babe being birthed into the world, but without the solace of her mother's loving embrace to lessen the agony.
The tears began to trickle silently down her cheeks as she gazed out into the universe, her physical eyes taking in the stars for the very first time. She laid her hands down on the cool, hard floor beside her, and it felt more real than anything she'd ever felt within the Citadel. She'd truly escaped.
And there was no going back.
(AN: Happy holidays to everyone celebrating this season! I am currently traveling, so I apologize if I'm slow to respond to comments, or if the next update is a little late. I'm also pregnant, so nothing happens quickly anymore, and takes a lot more energy.
Many of you have guessed at what was the main inspiration was for this story, and if you're familiar with the movie, this chapter probably made it obvious.)