Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Mass Effect series. I do not own anything from the Naruto series.

Warnings: AU, Dimension Travel, Graphic Violence, Strong Language

Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole

Shepard stepped out of the elevator onto the floor of the CIC whilst absently scratching at the shoulder of her new uniform. She didn't like the white and black. It fit perfectly of course, Cerberus had very intimate knowledge on her sizes after all, but it still felt very, very wrong.

Everything felt wrong really.

Her world didn't make sense anymore. It hadn't made sense from the moment she woke up on that ice-cold table on that god-forsaken space station.

Jane scowled deeply as she stepped up to the galactic interface, and she tried her best to drive her thoughts away from that darkness. Away from the utter abyss that was her supposed death. It was for nothing however. All she needed to do was open her eyes and look around to see all of the reminders staring back at her. Her ship wasn't her ship anymore. Her crew wasn't her crew. Her body didn't feel like her body anymore either. She could feel the pull from the still healing wounds along her jaw and could see the unnatural glow shining out from her implants there.

Karin had assured her that the wounds would heal, that the glow would fade with time, but Jane knew that that wasn't true. Not really. No matter how much her skin healed, or how her body recovered, she'd never be able to forget that first time she'd looked in the mirror. That first time she'd seen what had become of her.

She hadn't cried in many, many years. She was a soldier, and a damn good one too. One of the absolute best apparently, if Cerberus was willing to bring her back to life because of it. Even so, when she'd retired to her new cabin for the first time and had taken that first look at her visage in the mirror she vividly remembered breaking down and bawling like a child, alone in that little grey bathroom. She vividly remembered that feeling of denial upon seeing her tears slide down a face she didn't remember having, remembered that overwhelming anguish upon seeing just how far Cerberus had been willing to go to bring her back.

A part of her knew she should feel grateful. That she should be thanking Miranda or The Illusive Man or whoever had helped them. No matter how evil Cerberus was to the outside observer, or how much of an absolute bastard The Illusive Man was, she still knew that she'd be a very dead woman right now if it wasn't for them. Another part of her wanted to scream and rage at them. She wanted to tear them all limb from bloody limb. They'd taken her from her final resting place and desecrated her dead body. They'd cut and sewn and stitched her back together to be their perfect little soldier. She still remembered Operative Taylor's words when they'd first met.

"…nothing but meat and tubes. Anywhere else and they'd have put you in a coffin."

A bitter voice buried deep in her mind screamed that they should have settled for the coffin.

A third part of her wanted to just sit down somewhere. Somewhere far, far away from this ship that wasn't her ship. To just sit there, and not think. She could never stop the destination of her thoughts anymore. They were always going in circles now, and she desperately wanted them to stop. She desperately wanted everything to stop.

She couldn't stop though.

The fourth part of her, the part of her that always put one foot in front of the other knew this. She knew it in her heart and down to her bones. There would be no stopping for her, no rest from this world. She'd been dragged kicking and screaming out of her icy grave because the world wouldn't allow her to stop.

Because someone had to defeat the Reapers. Apparently, that someone had to be her.

So here she was. A dead woman, a patch work figure, leading a fake Normandy filled with fake people. The only two faces she could find comfort in were her dear pilot and her dear doctor, both of whom had been roped into this absolute clusterfuck of a mission. She was grateful to them. She really, truly was. If she'd boarded this new Normandy filled with Cerberus and had found no one she knew…she didn't know what she would have done. She would forever be grateful that she at least had those two with her now. She'd never forget it.

There was no one else though.

Her crew was scattered to the four winds. Her family, those she'd fought with through thick and thin were gone. They'd "moved on" as The Illusive Man claimed.

When she'd touched down on Freedom's Progress her world had made even less sense then. She'd been blank faced and trying her absolute hardest to keep herself together. She'd remained silent for the ride there outside of the questions those two operatives had posed for her, and she'd only spoken on the ground when she'd needed to give orders. She hadn't trusted herself to speak, to not just break down gibbering like a loon…and when they ran into Tali she'd seen the disbelief covering every inch of her friend. She hadn't been able to see her face of course, but her eyes had very nearly popped out of her enviro-suit's mask. The Quarian hadn't been able to believe at first. Shepard didn't blame her.

When Tali had asked if it was really her, she'd tried to reassure her, mentioning the data she'd given her for her pilgrimage a lifetime ago. Outwardly, she'd tried to prove she was who she thought she was.

Inside though, her mind had screamed that she hadn't a damn clue. She didn't know who, or even what she was anymore.

And then Tali had left. She went back to her own mission, and she moved on.

Jane couldn't move on. Cerberus hadn't let her move on.

"…Commander?"

Jane started violently where she was standing, and she realized with a strange sense of detachment that she'd been standing there staring at the hologram in front of her for nearly five minutes. She almost felt embarrassed when she took in the concerned gazes of her new "crew" as they tried and failed to hide their worry. She didn't though. Embarrassment couldn't even register on her emotional spectrum anymore, there was no room for it next to everything else. She slowly turned her head to look at the woman who'd addressed her, the apparent Yeoman of her new ship. Chambers, or whatever her name was, was staring into her eyes with an overwhelming amount of concern.

Shepard didn't trust that face. She didn't trust any of their faces, or their concern.

"What?" she heard herself ask, and she almost couldn't believe how her own voice had sounded then.

The Yeoman flinched minutely at her tone, undoubtedly hearing just how completely flat it was. There was nothing in her voice. Just letters and words.

"Ah-," the woman began, visibly trying to think of what to say, and apparently not sure in any way, "…are you…alright ma'am?"

Jane frowned, a strong downward twist of her mouth that caused a twinge of pain to lance through the right side of her face. She didn't say anything for a long moment, and her fellow red-head visibly quailed under her new Commander's uncompromising, green-eyed stare.

Finally, Shepard nodded, a tiny dip of her chin, and she turned away to stare at the galaxy map before her again, "I'm fine."

It was a complete and utter lie. She knew it, and absolutely everyone who was privy to her current state knew it too. But no one said anything.

Chambers nodded like she understood, and Jane fought down that tiny urge in her gut to reach out and slap the woman.

The Yeoman wisely moved on, and then Jane had to fight that urge even harder at the woman's next words.

"The Illusive Man wishes to speak with you in the Briefing-room Commander."

She didn't slap the woman though. No matter how far down the rabbit hole she fell she remained content in the knowledge that she still hadn't gone violent or homicidal yet. So instead, she nodded once more, still having only spoken two words, and left to speak with her new…benefactor.

The crew watched her go, an uneasy feeling hanging in the air around them. Kelly watched with an extra dose of concern. The perky red-head frowned even harder when her commander was out of sight, and the Psychologist silently vowed to do anything she could to help the broken woman who'd just walked away from them. Even though she had absolutely no idea how.

Jane grimaced at the lights surrounding her as the communicator booted up. She'd talked to The Illusive Asshole yesterday. Why in God's name did he have to call on her again so soon. The very idea that she was being called on, even could be called on, by the head of Cerberus rankled something awful.

However, when she opened her mouth to rudely question what the hell the man wanted, she abruptly found herself not saying a word.

She'd spoken to the head of Cerberus several times now since she'd risen from the dead, and she already felt like she had a handle on his character. He was confidence personified, whilst being utterly laid back. He was calm, and intense all at once. When he spoke he always sounded completely assured in whatever he said. He was a man who held all the cards, knew he held all the cards, and had absolutely no qualms laying those cards down on your grave.

But this time something was very different.

He did not look confident. He did not look laid back. He was sitting ramrod straight in his little throne. He was not calm. His glowing eyes were darting here and there across the screens before him with an intensity that belied almost…panic…and when he spoke he did not sound assured in any way.

"Shepard," he began, not even looking at her. He was seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from whatever it was he was reading. He took a long pull from the cigarette in his hands, and she absently noted the butts littering the ground around his feet. A carton lay open next to him, and his ash tray was completely full. "I'm…sorry for calling you again so soon. But-" He faltered here, stopping his sentence whilst staring at a particular screen. He didn't move for a very long moment, appearing to be almost perfectly still, before he finally spoke again, "Something has happened."

If she hadn't been feeling like a piece of cardboard, she'd probably have scoffed at him. His entire demeanor screamed that something big had happened.

The way he said the word "something" gave her pause however. "Was another colony hit?" she questioned, inwardly worrying at the prospect. Would the Collectors do that? The trend separated the abductions by weeks, and Freedom's progress had only been hit a few days ago. It was far too soon.

The Illusive man looked down at her question, seemingly staring at the ground before his feet. She marveled at how uncertain that simple act made him look, so at odds with everything she'd seen from him. He shook his head minutely, and she was stunned again when he replied with a remarkably subdued, "…No."

He didn't continue, and she had a front row seat to watch his eyes stare into the middle distance. After a minute, when it seemed that he'd sunk into a very uncharacteristic trance of hyper fast thought, she'd finally had enough. As intriguing as it was to watch the secretive man flounder, she didn't really care to watch for long. She had things to do. Like not talking to him.

"Did one of your insane experiments slip the leash again?" she questioned darkly, remembering with picture perfect clarity the dead body of Admiral Kahoku surrounded by mad Rachni and Thorian creepers.

The Illusive Man stirred again at the sound of her voice, and after a moment shook his head, not reacting to her blatant disdain.

"No," he replied again, sounding just as quiet as his last denial. He gripped the arm rests on either side of himself, and rose from his chair, looking almost regal in the action. She wanted to scoff again at his pretentiousness, but when he stood at his full height and looked at her, she found herself remaining silent. Because at that moment, his eyes stared directly into her own for the first time since the call started, and she had a very clear view into his thoughts.

He looked completely, utterly lost.

He didn't look slack jawed, or even overwhelmed. He was very obviously trying to keep his calm. His expression was shuddered with his mouth pressed into a firm line, but his glowing eyes said it all.

For what was probably the first time in a very long time, he quite simply didn't know what the hell was going on.

Two years ago, if she knew what she did now, she'd probably have laughed long and loud at his face. She didn't however. She settled for the dark undercurrent of mirth that bubbled under the surface, and didn't say anything. She did quirk an eyebrow however when the man walked several steps forward to stand before her shimmering hologram. They stood eye to eye, separated by countless leagues of space, and he was the first to speak again.

"I'm going to be honest with you Shepard."

'No you're not,' that dark part of her thoughts murmured, and she prepared herself for whatever bullshit he was about to spew to convince her to take care of his problems.

A tick passed, a moment of emphasis, and then he spoke again in a quiet tone, "I am a liar."

She blinked, momentarily stunned, '…or maybe you will,' those same dark thoughts murmured again.

"I lie constantly. I must lie constantly. It is my trade. The world we live in is one that lives and dies on secrets and information, all information, no matter how insignificant," he turned away from her then, and stuffed the hand that wasn't holding his cigarette into his pocket. He stared out the window, gazing at the bright ball of burning gas that floated beyond. He looked down again, and she could see the nape of his neck as he stared at his shoes.

"I have spies on every major home-world, feeds from every black-ops organization known to Humanity. I've born witness to the absurd, the unbelievable, and the horrible in our world. In the last few decades since the founding of Cerberus I have seen many, many things."

She frowned, hoping that he was actually going somewhere with this. He must be, because she couldn't imagine anything that could shake him so badly.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and his next words came out subtly bewildered whilst also very pained, "But today…I've seen something I simply do not understand. Something that I have never seen before in my entire life."

She stared at him with a pair of very wide eyes.

'Oh.'

She had never expected to ever hear those words pass his lips. Indeed, even he looked like he'd never expected to say those words. He was very visibly struggling with the admission.

"I am very used to lying Shepard, but right now…I do not even have the words to lie. I do not have the words to tell the truth either. I quite simply do not have words. All I can do is show you what I have seen."

To say that Jane was feeling apprehensive was a very big understatement. She was currently staring at a man who'd ordered experiments on Rachni, on Thorian creepers, and on other Humans. A man who as he'd just said, had direct feeds on every black-ops organization out there. A man who knew about the Collectors. A man who knew the truth about the Reapers themselves. She knew he wasn't lying when he claimed that those cybernetic eyes of his had seen many, many things.

So what the bloody hell could he have possibly seen to put him in this state?

Did she even want to know?

Should she walk out of the communication room this very instant, and get the hell away from whatever earth-shattering news he had to share?

She was definitely considering it.

Before she could come to a decision however, The Illusive Man swiftly turned back to his holographic interfaces and began typing. His finger hovered over a final key, seeming to hesitate at the last moment, but then his shoulders visibly slumped.

"The videos I'm about to show you were taken at one of our remote bases on Noveria, called Firebase White. It is shrouded by mountains and snow, very far from any of the Corporate holdings that are also hidden on the planet. They're timestamped as having occurred approximately seven hours ago."

Without another word his finger descended to tap the key, and he turned away once again. Jane didn't have time to get a word in edgewise before her vision was filled with a large projection that blocked her view of anything else. It was filled with several rows of video feeds, no doubt from the security cameras within and outside of the facility. They played simultaneously for a moment before one of them abruptly grew to fill the entirety of the projection.

It was a security feed that covered a portion of the facility's outer premises. It panned back and forth across the snow drifts silently watching for any irregularities. The overcast sky of Noveria was relatively calm, and it hung along the top of the feed. In the distance a set of snow capped mountains reached high into that same sky. There was nothing else however. Nothing was happening. The only movement she could see aside from the slow turning of the camera was the lightly falling snow.

Then abruptly, that changed.

She first noticed the strange glow in the clouds a few moments after it began, having been too busy scanning the ground rather than the sky. However, as that golden glow grew steadily brighter, and then blinding, she couldn't help but see it. The clouds did a good job of trying to hide it, but whatever was falling through that cloud cover was simply too bright to hide for more than a few moments.

Then the falling glow broke through the clouds.

She initially believed it to be a falling meteorite. It was a very small one if it was. But then she looked closer, and Shepard realized that the object falling from the sky was far too small to generate such a brilliant glow. The meteorite would have needed to be much bigger to generate even half of that much energy upon entry to the atmosphere.

The unidentified object fell faster, streaking though the sky like a falling missile. She watched as it fell closer and closer to the base, never leaving the camera's view, until it finally landed. It slammed into the face of one of the mountains across from the facility, and an absolutely titanic explosion shook the land. The camera view vibrated violently, and Jane could easily imagine the entire area surrounding the base shaking as though struck by an earthquake.

When the shaking finally stopped Jane was granted a full view of the aftermath.

A gargantuan crater had been formed in the side of the mountain's upper face. Dust and obliterated rock wafted into the sky from the impact point. The crater stretched many dozens of meters across, and as she watched, an avalanche of epic proportions began cascading down the mountain below it. The video continued to play for a full minute longer until the dust finally settled.

The feed abruptly ended, and a new video feed took its place. The voice of The Illusive man drifted into her ears from beyond her sight. He sounded just as subdued as he'd been since the call had started.

"A team scrambled a shuttle to investigate. This next video was taken twenty-two minutes following the impact."

She didn't look away to address the Cerberus head, and in fact she barely even registered that he'd spoken at all. She immediately recognized the new feed as one coming from a body-camera. She couldn't see who was wearing it, but in front of the camera's owner were several people all hiking up the demolished mountain face in a single file line. All of them were decked out in heavy winter clothing bearing the distinct colors and insignia of Cerberus. They trekked up the mountain in the direction of the nearby crater, and none of them spoke. She vividly remembered the biting chill of Noveria and knew that they were no doubt too cold to even consider opening their mouths.

Finally, after a few minutes of watching them struggle up the freshly disturbed mountain, they reached the lip of the massive crater, and the first sound she heard from the Cerberus team was a collective intake of astonished breath.

When the little camera finally came into focus on the epicenter of the massive crater, Jane joined them in gasping with everything she had.

Then she froze…and just stared.

No one moved. The Cerberus team stood there frozen in place. Shepard stood there staring along with them. No one said a word. Not the team in the video, not Jane, and not the Illusive man who was no doubt watching her every reaction. There quite simply were no words that could be said.

For there, laying nestled in the absolute center of the massive crater, flanked on all sides by jutting ridges of destroyed rock, was an impossibility.

A body lay cradled there. A Human body.

A man, blank faced with eyes closed, was sprawled there looking for all the world like he'd just decided to lay down on the jutting rock to take an afternoon nap.

Jane's mind blanked. What she was seeing simply did not parse. Everything about what she was seeing was wrong. She knew intimately that it was wrong.

Her body had suffered atmospheric re-entry. She'd thankfully been very dead by that point, as the ruptured seal on her armor had mercifully killed her from a lack of oxygen before she could feel anything more. But she knew what had happened after that.

"…meat and tubes," Taylor had said.

She'd been wearing armor for her re-entry, and her helmet had done a truly fantastic job of keeping her brain intact. However, that didn't change the fact that the entire suit had practically melted onto her skin from the heat. That didn't change how her body had been completely broken upon impact, or how every bone in her body had been absolutely shattered.

The man that lay in the camera's view wasn't even wearing a single piece of armor. There was nothing that could have possibly protected him from burning to a crisp whilst passing through the atmosphere. In fact, he was completely naked, and while he was still a distance away she couldn't make out any obviously fatal injuries.

She stood there, jaw hanging wide open, and stared for a very long time. The team did as well, no doubt entranced by the absurd impossibility in front of them.

Then abruptly, the operative at the front of the team walked forward and began moving down the edge of the crater. That shook Shepard from the loop of complete incredulity her mind had fallen into, and she watched as the rest of the team came to a stop in front of the unconscious man.

He was young, in his early twenties at the latest, and his head was covered in a mess of unruly blond hair. A stray thought floated at the back of her mind telling her that his hair should have been burned from his scalp whilst falling at such a speed. Then her brain helpfully reminded her again that every other part of his body should have been burnt to a crisp as well. However, now that the team had come to stand beside the unconscious man, she could clearly see that he hadn't escaped atmospheric re-entry completely unscathed.

There were a few gashes on his limbs, along with some bruises, scuffs, and burns.

But those were his only injuries, there was nothing else marring him.

Jane had been standing there without moving for a long time, and she'd managed to stay upright without keeling over from the shock yet. However, as she stared at the man in the crater, she very nearly did fall over at what she noticed next.

Those same minor injuries that marred his skin were healing…they were visibly healing before her very eyes. The bruises were steadily losing their color, and the skin around the slices on his chest and limbs were knitting back together again.

She'd fought a Krogan Battlemaster in the bowels of Therum when she'd first met Liara. That Battlemaster's regeneration had absolutely nothing on what she was witnessing in front of her.

The team didn't reach out to touch the unconscious man. They simply stood there and watched as she did. After a few minutes all that was left was pristine skin. The blond man was now truly unmarred, with the only oddity being that he was stark naked. He now truly did look like some young man who'd just fallen asleep on the mountainside, and yet, even with his wounds healed, he did not stir from unconsciousness.

Suddenly, the feed she was watching changed for a third and final time. This time she had a view of the inside of what appeared to be the infirmary of Firebase White. The only difference from this infirmary to a standard one, were the steel shackles welded upright on the metal tables. Upon one of the tables lay the unconscious man with his limps firmly secured within those steel shackles. He was still naked, but the Cerberus team had apparently been gracious enough to lay a towel across his waist to protect his decency.

She had a clear view of what was happening. Scientists scurried back and forth no doubt in an absolute frenzy while a very large number of guards armed with rifles lined the walls. She didn't pay them any mind however. Her eyes were firmly glued to the face and body of the unconscious man.

His face was perfectly still. There wasn't even a twitch across his entire body, and the only movement she could detect was the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She studied his face, absently noting his strong jaw and handsome features. She studied his uncovered chest, perfectly aware of how outrageously sculpted he was. There wasn't an ounce of fat to be seen, and the skin was pulled tight even though the muscles there were completely relaxed. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he was trained, with muscles for utility and not for show. She noted the scars covering his torso with another dose of incredulity on top of what she was already feeling. They were numerous and ridiculous, with one massive circular scar positioned directly above his heart.

He remained that way for several more minutes as the Science team descended into further chaos around him. Then, that body which had up until that moment been laying perfectly still, suddenly moved.

A huge intake of breath was heard, followed by several more, and his chest rose and feel as he suddenly began breathing deeply. The Science team froze, the soldiers stood absolutely stiff, and every head craned around to stare at the man on the table. The next sound they heard was a disjointed noise that escaped his throat, a word that wasn't really a word at all, and then…his eyes fluttered open.

And once again, Shepard found herself at a complete loss at what she was seeing.

His eyes were purple.

Completely purple.

There wasn't a trace of white sclera to be seen. Just a vast expanse of purple, and concentric rings lay there instead of an iris. That wasn't all however, for within that purple rested a set of very, very irregular pupils.

A black cross lay in each eye. Two straight lines overlaid atop each other where a black dot should have been.

What the bloody hell…?

Those otherworldly eyes fluttered for several seconds as the man regained consciousness, until he finally just lay there staring up at the ceiling above him.

After a few seconds of silence, the man blinked once more, only this time something changed. When he opened his eyes again, the impossibly strange eyes he'd previously sported were gone. Instead, a set of relatively normal eyes had taken their place. A pair of incredibly blue eyes gazed upward, clear cerulean reflecting the light hanging directly over his head.

They were starkly different from the eyes he'd had. There had been nothing but an unsettling expanse of purple before, deeply hypnotic and unending. Now, they were blue, and so very, very tired.

Finally, he spoke.

It was quiet, and only one sentence. It was also very obviously not spoken to anyone around him.

"Fucking hell Kurama…that sucked."

The translator on her omni-tool let her hear his words as they were delivered, and he said nothing more.

He lay there staring at the ceiling for a few moments longer before he abruptly moved again. With a very clear whine the steel shackles securing his wrists were torn through like so much tissue paper. They didn't hold up for even a fraction of a second as his wrists effortlessly came free.

Jane didn't even blink, and her eyes were beginning to dry out with her staring.

He sat up, his dusty blond hair falling into place around his visage, and he didn't spare the two broken steel manacles a single glance. Instead, he peered down at his legs, noting the shackles binding them as well, and with a deft twist he set his feet down on the ground beside the steel table. There wasn't a single pause. It was all one fluid movement. One moment his legs were trapped, and the next moment the steel bent in a way that steel should not bend, and he was free.

There he stood, naked as the day he was born with the towel now pooled around his feet. His cerulean gaze swept briefly around the infirmary, and his expression did not shift in the slightest as he took in the numerous armed guards now pointing rifles at his chest. He glanced down at himself, grimaced slightly, and then closed his eyes again for another spare moment.

Suddenly, without an ounce of warning, he had clothes on.

One second he'd been naked. The next he simply wasn't.

Jane made a small noise in the back of her throat as she watched this impossible man appear to create matter out of nothing.

All of the incredulous little voices in her head, the ones that had each been focusing on the various individual impossibilities up until that point, all suddenly began screaming in unison.

Forget surviving re-entry into the atmosphere whilst completely unarmored. Forget strength capable of tearing through steel.

The man casually standing there in the center of that infirmary had just broken the laws of the Universe.

The infirmary was silent as the grave. Jane could see the whites of the eyes of everyone in that room. She could tell even without having been present that their collective minds had likely shut down. Several of the scientists were visibly shaking, and the guards genuinely appeared to have forgotten their jobs. They'd probably forgotten that they were even armed, as the rifles aimed at his chest dipped slightly in numb grasps.

She was feeling very numb as well.

He straightened out his new clothes, reaching up to tug on the high collar on his long, white overcoat. She couldn't clearly see what he was wearing underneath it from the camera angle, she could only catch a flash of orange, but she could glimpse his back. A set of nine symbols were displayed in neat rows of three. They looked like strange commas to her eyes, and above them was a circular symbol. The circle had concentric rings within it much like his eyes had once bore.

Then he casually broke the laws of the Universe again.

His hand reached out seemingly grasping at nothing. Then all at once a pitch-black staff was there waiting for him. He plucked it from the air and tapped the butt of it against the cold floor. The set of six rings fixed within the ring at the top jangled lightly, and he leaned forward against it as his blue eyes panned around the room once more.

He gazed at each person surrounding him, one at a time. Each time his eyes landed on someone new they'd either visibly lock up, or they'd start shaking even more violently. He'd grimace every so often when he'd look at someone in particular, but it wasn't until his eyes landed on a certain scientist that his expression truly changed.

His face twisted into a rictus of absolute rage as his eyes bore into the Scientist's own. Where before he'd been fairly calm, now he looked ready to commit cold blooded murder. His eyes, which had been blue, suddenly changed back to that otherworldly purple.

The scientist in question was standing several meters from the door, and a number of his fellows were positioned around him. His uniform was slightly different from theirs however, most likely denoting a higher position. He was clutching a clipboard tightly to his chest, and his face was as pale as freshly driven snow.

And when the impossible man's expression of rage became focused on him an untranslatable noise escaped his throat. He then quite abruptly passed out. Whether it was some outside force that knocked him out, or if he fainted from sheer terror, she didn't know.

However, before his body could even begin to fall, the blonde man was suddenly standing right in front of him.

There was no warning, much like how he'd created his new clothes. One moment he was standing in the center of the room, and the next he simply wasn't. He'd somehow crossed the distance separating himself from his target without moving a single muscle.

Teleportation.

The hand that wasn't gripping that black staff shot out, and his palm slapped loudly onto the unconscious scientist's forehead. He gripped his victim's face and held the body there suspended upright on slack legs.

Then, before the horrified eyes of the science team, in front of the frozen soldiers, and under Shepard's unblinking gaze…he ripped the man's soul from his body.

There simply weren't any other words to describe it. There, grasped tightly in the man's hand, was a wriggling, ephemeral specter. It was translucent and topped with what could only be described as a face twisted in agony. The body itself dropped to the floor with a dull thud, and the scientist's skull bounced once.

It wailed, high and haunting, and Shepard knew that she would remember that sound until the end of time. It was a noise that mortal ears were never meant to hear.

Suddenly, everything around her was shaking. She realized the next second that it wasn't everything else that was shaking, but rather she was shaking. Her hands quivered, and her legs quaked. Shepard dimly noted the roaring in her ears as her legs finally gave out under her. She couldn't remain standing and stumbled backwards. Her butt hit the floor, and her legs splayed out in front of her. Her hands ended up in her lap with their palms facing up. However, even while falling her eyes never strayed from the large projection. She didn't look away. She couldn't have even if she'd tried. Now sitting on the cold floor of the Briefing room like a lost child, she could only stare upward completely entranced.

Between one second and the next the…soul…was gone. It was seemingly absorbed into the hand grasping it without a second of delay. She didn't want to think about what that meant. She wanted to bleach her brain of the last five seconds of video too. She wanted to stop seeing, over and over again, how that hand had torn the life out of the scientist's flesh without the slightest hesitation.

The surrounding scientists and soldiers abruptly started howling in terror. Shepard didn't blame them. All at once, the guards seemed to remember that they were armed, and turned their weapons on the nightmare that was now standing among them. The scientists started fleeing, sprinting several steps each as they ran from what was most assuredly an unholy monster.

None of them made it. None of the weapons fired either. All of the people in the room save for the demon in Human flesh suddenly slumped forward. They all fell over, apparently unconscious. Rifles clattered against the metal below, and the scientists who had started sprinting away fell to slide across the floor on their faces.

All was silent.

A few seconds of that eerie quiet passed, and then the monster casually walked away. He headed for the door of the infirmary whilst gingerly stepping around the limbs of the unconscious figures on the floor. Then he ducked through the open doorway and was gone, the jangling of the rings on his staff fading into the distance.

The video abruptly ended. The projection winked out, and Shepard was left there on the floor staring up into darkness.

She sat there for a long time. She didn't say a word, nor did she move from where she'd flopped down onto the floor. From the corner of her eye she could see The Illusive Man standing to the side still watching her. He didn't say a word either, seemingly content to rapidly chain smoke whilst letting her mind piece itself back together again.

She didn't know how much time had passed while she sat there. It could have been five minutes, ten minutes, or even an hour. She had no idea. All she did know was that The Illusive Man had been completely right.

There really were no words that could be said.

Suddenly, The Illusive Man did speak, and if it was possible he sounded even more subdued than before. He'd likely been keeping this event to himself, pouring over every second of video here in his little throne room for hours. Now however, he'd watched another person aside from himself bear witness to the impossible. Watching her reaction had likely been a sledge hammer for him, and had driven home what they'd both just seen.

"He's headed for Omega," he stated lowly, reaching up to pull on his cigarette. The glow lit his face with an orange light, and the lines around his mouth were suddenly pronounced. He looked far older that he was.

She didn't get up from the floor, but she did slowly turn her head to look at him.

How…?

He likely saw the question on her face…or at least saw that particular question on her face. She knew, and he knew as well, that he had no hope of answering any of her other possible questions.

"He commandeered one of the fighters on site, and according to the flight data that's being fed here he's still in transit. His generated flight plan is locked on Omega however."

She stared at him, but didn't really see him. Her mind had latched onto that information with a feeling of absolute doom.

Her next stop was Omega.

She looked away from him again, and started slowly shaking her head.

Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope…

She was going to turn this god forsaken ship around right this very instant, and head for the Citadel first.

The Illusive Man, perceptive bastard that he was, likely saw the twist of her expression, and knew what she was thinking.

"You have to follow him Shepard."

Those words were incredibly effective. Her mind had been so completely scrambled up until that point that she didn't qualify as coherent. But those words were enough to make her jump to her feet. Her head whipped around to stare at him with an expression so incredulous, he might as well have suggested that she take her ship into dark-space that moment to fight the Reapers single handed.

"…What did you just say?" she positively hissed. If he thought for one instant that she was going anywhere near…whatever the fuck that thing was…he was very, very mistaken.

He didn't repeat himself, but he did try for a justification, "Shepard…I don't know what that man is. We have no idea what that man is…but the only word that can be used to describe what he did is superhuman. In fact, I'd go so far to say that what he did in those videos goes beyond superhuman. It goes straight into the realm of the supernatural. Up until six and a half hours ago, I did not believe in God. I didn't believe in a higher power of any kind, or in the concept of the soul."

He took several steps toward her, and his face was so earnest whilst simultaneously so lost that she couldn't help but relate.

"That has changed," he stated lowly, and his voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word. She could see something in his eyes then when he said that, something curling in his glowing iris' and tightening around his soul.

It was fear.

The Illusive Man was desperately trying to hide it, but he was afraid. Terrified even.

He was afraid that the existence of that man proved the existence of a higher power.

Suddenly, there was a very distinct possibility that the darkness of nonexistence was not what awaited him when he died, but rather…someone or something that would hold him accountable…and he was very frightened.

"You must follow him."

Shepard didn't give a damn about whatever existential crisis he was having. She made that very clear with her next words.

"I'm not getting within a thousand miles of that thing."

His eyes blazed blue as he took another step forward, and his hand reached up in a clenched fist. His voice rose with emphatic intensity, "You have to Shepard! You saw what he did!"

She had. She really wished she hadn't.

He shook his head then, and that intensity abruptly died like the flame of a candle. He suddenly looked very, very tired, and his clenched fist dropped back to his side, "He put a crater in a mountainside. He rent steel with strength alone. He teleported Shepard. He-," The Illusive Man faltered here, almost choking on his next words, and she knew very well why, "…he…tore a soul from a body."

He paused for emphasis, and then that desperate earnestness was back, "If you want to have any hope of beating the Collectors, or the Reapers after them…you need him on your team."

I need him on my side, was what went unsaid.

She shook her head. He was speaking complete madness.

"Out of everyone in this Galaxy, the only person who could convince him to fight against the Reapers is you."

She kept right on shaking her head at him. Eventually though she stopped, and when she did, she spoke with a pronounced growl.

"You're trying to send me to my death. If you send me after him, you will be wasting four billion credits."

The Illusive Man didn't answer, instead he turned away and approached his chair. He tapped a few of the holographic keys, and her omni-tool suddenly pinged. She didn't check it however.

"I forwarded the file on the man he killed," The Illusive Man stated evenly, "Take a look."

She didn't want to. She wanted to keep arguing with him. She wanted to tell him to shove the file where the sun didn't shine. She didn't however. After a moment of further indecision, she did check her omni-tool. She opened the file and started to read.

After the first few paragraphs, she had a very clear idea of what type of man that scientist had been.

Her benefactor spoke again, pulling her eyes away from the file to look at him, "He only killed one person in that entire facility Shepard…and while you and I have a very different opinion on what is ethically sound when it comes to the advancement of the Human race, I'm sure we can both agree that out of everyone in that room, he deserved death the most. The rest of the people in that infirmary were relatively innocent. Trained medical professionals and soldiers. He left them untouched save for knocking them out. That is very telling."

She was at a loss for words again, something that had likely happened more times in this call than had happened before throughout her entire life. A tiny voice in the back of her mind that she was trying very hard to ignore silently conceded that point.

The rest of her mind rebelled against that notion however.

Evil though that scientist had been, that didn't change the fact that he'd had his soul ripped out.

She wanted nothing to do with someone who could do that.

"I don't want that thing on my ship."

The Illusive Man nodded like he understood, and as opposed to Chambers earlier, Shepard knew that he really did understand. Any sane person would run when faced with something like this. However, no matter how much he might agree with her sentiment, that didn't change his next words in the slightest.

"I know…" he agreed, commiserating, "But I'll say it again. If you want to beat the Reapers then you need him."

She gnashed her teeth, fighting tooth and nail to not explode. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to rant and rave in his face for even suggesting it. She desperately wished that this conversation had never happened. That none of this had happened. She'd entered this call with a world that didn't make any sense, but now…?

Now her world was spiraling into absolute madness.

In the end though, she didn't do any of those things. She didn't rant or scream. She didn't tell him that he was insane. She ground her teeth together for several more long seconds, before she finally deflated like a flat tire.

Because deep down she knew that he was right.

Shepard didn't say that however. She didn't give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. Instead, she did an about face, and walked clear out of the Briefing-room. She walked into the CIC ignoring all of the looks that were no doubt curious about why she'd been talking to their boss for so long. She stepped into the elevator with an incredibly blank face. She stared at the metal walls surrounding her as she rode up to her cabin. The elevator pinged once it reached its destination. She numbly passed the empty fish-tank on her left, and sat with a quiet whoosh of compressed fabric on her new bed.

She sat there for a long time.

Miranda Lawson, down in her office, had heard about how strangely the Commander had been acting both before and after her talk with The Illusive Man. Normally, she would have respected the Commander's privacy while she was in her cabin. She had yet to actually use any of the hidden cameras positioned in her ceiling after all.

She did this time however. She didn't do it to spy, or because she hoped to gain anything from it. It was more out of concern. Miranda just wanted to make sure her Commander was alright up there in her room. She'd just risen from the dead a little under a week ago. If anyone needed some support, it was her.

So, when she opened the feed to the loft, she was struck with a somewhat strange sight. The Commander was sitting on her bed, staring into the empty space in front of her.

Miranda watched her for a short time, lightly concerned, but then dismissed the odd behavior as the Commander simply thinking deeply. She minimized the feed to a window, and then got back to work, all while keeping an eye on the woman.

That light concern changed to full blown concern as the hours slowly ticked by.

The Commander did not stir. She didn't close her eyes either. She just sat there staring into space.

"…what in the world did The Illusive Man tell her…?"

"That's the fourth type of poison he's slipped you," Kurama stated with rumbling mirth.

Naruto Uzumaki grinned around the lip of the ginormous glass he was drinking from. He took a good, long pull of his fourth drink, something called ryncol. The new memories he'd gained from that scientist, a right evil bastard that could've probably given Orochimaru a run for his money, told him that the drink could only be enjoyed, or survived, by a Krogan. He didn't take his eyes off the Batarian bartender standing in front of him while he swallowed a huge gulp.

The four-eyed alien looked about ready to have an apoplectic seizure.

"Heh-heh…I know. He's trying really hard isn't he?" he replied with just as much mirth.

"You gonna kill him?" Matatabi questioned lightly, and Naruto could easily envision the giant neko smiling while watching what was happening, her twin tails lazily swaying in the air.

"Of course," he answered easily, and a chorus of chuckles reverberated in his head.

Around him, a large number of the patrons of the nightclub he was in were busy staring at him. Their eyes continuously bounced between the large, empty glasses on the bar in front of him, to the near empty one grasped in his hand, and then to his unaffected face.

"This never gets old!" Son Goku exclaimed, and he laughed long and loud while thumping his four tails for emphasis.

It really didn't, Naruto found himself agreeing. He'd always been, and always would be, a prankster at heart. Marriage hadn't driven it from his heart, and neither had fatherhood. His tenure as the Nanadaime Hokage hadn't been able to change it, and his retirement hadn't either.

And the Batarian standing in front of him, with four eyes open so wide they looked ready to pop from his large skull, definitely deserved a good pranking. Along with a kunai to the face.

On that note he tipped his glass back to finish his drink, chugging the last couple inches for that extra fuckery factor. He sighed explosively with satisfaction and slammed the glass down on the counter. The Batarian nearly jumped out of his skin. He smiled at the alien then, his mouth stretching so wide that his eyes closed to bare squints. His sharpened canines were on full display, and he nearly chuckled when the alien took a half step back in confusion.

"Thanks for the drinks friend!" he exclaimed, and he slapped several credits down on the counter next to his empty glasses, "I'll just be heading out then, but don't worry! I'll be sure to be back for more of that strong stuff! They were some great recommendations!"

He then grabbed his shakujo and began turning away. From the corner of his eye, he could see the minute twitches on the alien's face, and he saw the instant the furious Batarian made up his mind. He could feel the killing intent in the air as the alien's hands went beneath the bar. He could sense the darkness, the taint of a murderer curled around his heart, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Batarian fully intended to shoot him in the back before booking it.

He finished turning, still grinning broadly, took two steps, and then lazily flung a kunai over his shoulder.

He walked out of the bar and stepped into the alleyway adjoined to it. He rolled his shoulders and stretched, but he didn't pay a single thought for the cries echoing inside the pulsing club he'd just left. A few customers streamed out around him trying to get away from the scene of the Batarian bartender pinned to the wall that'd stood behind him, a kunai holding his dead body up by the throat like a trapped insect.

"This is a pretty big place, yeah?" he stated more than questioned in his mind, and he stuffed one of his hands into the pocket of his black, shinobi pants, "Lots of species and cultures all mashed together."

"…Yes?" Kurama replied with the barest hint of uncertainty, no doubt wondering what he was thinking.

Naruto grinned, broad and full of teeth.

"Heh-heh, you know what that means don't you?"

A beat of time passed, and then a chorus of groans echoed in his head, a far cry from the chuckles he'd heard earlier. Oh yes, all nine of them knew what that meant. None of them gave him the satisfaction of replying to his implication however.

He started strolling down the alleyway, long white cloak billowing behind him, and that foxy grin never left his face. He answered his own question since his partners apparently weren't willing to share in his excitement.

"That means RAMEN!" he cried out loud with overwhelming exuberance, and a few of the urchins squatting in the alley gave him funny looks as he passed.

Kurama heaved a long, drawn-out sigh, sounding for all the world like an indulgent parent dealing with an overbearing child, "…Of course it does."

Author's note: Hey, thanks for checking out this new story of mine. This is a plot bunny that's been bouncing around in my head for a good long time, and it finally overwhelmed me. I've read a good number of Naruto fics, but I've always found it hard to find a truly good crossover that captures the essence of an overpowered Naruto. As you can tell, my Naruto is very, very similar to the one in the manga, but with a number of differences too. The reason for those differences will be explained over time.

I will be honest here. The premise for the story has always floated around in my head, but I don't really know what I'm going to do with it in the long run. I know it's bad to do it this way, but I don't have a plan for this fic. I've got a bunch of vignettes in my head for cool things that will happen. Other than that though, I don't have a plan. It's a true case of what pops into my brain being put to paper. Wish me luck I suppose.

If you've read my Bleach fic, and are here to investigate, then I'll be honest with you too. I just don't know. My passion for Bleach has died down significantly. I still love it, and it will always hold a special place in my heart. It's been several years since I started that story however, and my passions and interests have definitely shifted. I was really depressed then too, and that depression shaped the Ichigo of that story. Times change though. I'm in my twenties now too rather than a teen filled with overwhelming levels of pathetic angst. Whose to say what I'll do in the end? Maybe writing this story will rekindle that writing fire I once had, and I might randomly find myself working on that old 17th chapter again.

Anyway. If you made it this far, thanks for reading my friend. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review if you did enjoy...or if you didn't. I'm relatively cool with criticism too. I'll see you next time!