Part III

The Cycle

[N7]

Light…?

Heaven?

I'm going to try a turian wine. I've always wondered what dextro-amino drinks taste like… And dextro-amino chocolates.

I wonder if Kaiden's here. And Miranda.

I wonder if Thane's here.

Is Heaven trans-sapient?

… Why does Heaven have overhead lights?

Elrika scowled as the white light above her focused in a muted fluorescent tube set into the ceiling above her. A metal ceiling. She twitched, and instantly she felt the sheets over her, the pillows behind her head. The steady beating of a heart monitor. Which was rapidly increasing in pace.

Her eyes jumped to the side and she looked around, finding herself in a private room. One of the walls had been hastily covered in metal sheets, a small section draped with black tarp. To her right was an open door, the hallway beyond dark and abandoned, to her left a window that showed some sort of nondescript ruin. Elrika sat up sharply, ignoring the searing agony of her body as she grabbed the monitoring nodes from her chest and threw them to the ground. Instantly the machine let out a piercing whine and she flung the sheet off of the bed, rolling out. Her body screamed in pain as she landed on bare feet, stumbling slightly. She wore a plain pair of boy shorts and a crop top. No bra, but that didn't matter. She didn't need a bra to kill someone.

Well. She could have used her bra, but she didn't need it.

Grabbing a side cabinet, she ripped open the top drawer and rummaged through it. Tossing the drawer down when she found nothing, she ripped upon the cupboards. Then, with a vile curse word, she looked around, desperate for a weapon.

Her elbow snapped through the glass of the window next to her and she picked up a large shard from the ground. Sheets tore. When the nurses burst into the room, Elrika had already moved, grabbing one by the chin and dragging her away from the door. She had a shard of glass with the end wrapped in the torn sheet to protect her hand, the pointed edge aimed at the woman's throat.

"Where the hell am I?" roared Elrika, coughing when her lungs rebelled against the cry. "What happened to me? Are you Cerberus?"

"We're not Cerberus," said the hostage calmly. "Commander. You have just woken up from a three-week long medically induced coma."

"A… a what? No." Elrika shook her head. "I was dead. I died. I felt it!"

"You did die," said the woman. "But the Citadel Entity brought you back. The cybernetics in your body-"

"It… no!" Elrika dug the glass into the woman's throat. "This is a lie! It's a fucking lie! I died, and the Reapers won! What is this? Am I a… a fucking brain in a vat. Is that what this is?"

"No."

Elrika's eyes widened and her entire body went rigid at the voice that emerged from behind her, and the tarp shifted. She was too shocked, though, that her limbs locked, her joints fusing, and she couldn't move.

"It's not a trick. Or a lie. It's real. You're real. This is real."

Elrika's arms shook violently and she released the nurse, who scrambled away. Her fingers trembled and she slowly turned, the shaking spreading across her body. She fought to keep standing as she saw who was behind her. She felt so elated that she swung right through joy and hit nausea. Backing away, she brought up her makeshift weapon. "You… I…" She looked around wildly, her body struggling to remember basic functions like breathing and heart rate. "I'm… I'm alive? I'm alive?" She sucked in heaving breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. Each word became more hard as she repeated the question over and over. "I'm alive?"

"You're alive."

A sobbing gasp burst from her and she closed her eyes, tears flowing down her face. Opening them again, she looked around once more, and then back to the speaker. "This… this is real?" her voice strained and broke. "I'm alive?"

"This is real."

"This is real. I'm alive…" Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks in waves. "I'm alive. You're alive. We're alive… We… We…" A shuddering gasp escaped her and her legs gave way, and the Garrus Vakarian, with a cybernetic implant in his left eye, and his visor missing, crossed the distance in a single stride and caught her. The shard of glass hit the ground, forgotten. She didn't even notice the nurses hightailing it out of the room. He pressed his forehead against hers and crushed her to him, heedless of her injuries.

"… you… You…" Elrika touched his face, the new scars, the cybernetic eye. "You…" She couldn't say any more as she struggled to breath, gasping, choking on her sobs. Her nails clawed at his clothes as she struggled to get closer. "I thought… I was… never…" She fought to speak between her gasps. "Going…"

"You're alive, Elrika," whispered Garrus into her hair, holding her close as he rocked her gently. "You're alive."

She shoved back, eyes wide with alarm as a thought brought her back to stark clarity. "The Reapers! What happened to the Reapers?"

Garrus brushed his face with his. "They're gone, Elrika. They're gone."

Elrika's brows drew together. "They're gone…?"

"They left."

Her confusion deepened. "They…" And then comprehension dawned. "We… we survived?" When Garrus nodded, she looked around, beyond confused. "We…" Her face crumpled. Her mind collapsed in on itself. Relief surged. Joy. Despair. Everything she had ever kept inside. Everything she had ever held back. It all came crashing out at once and she wailed. Loud. Infantile. She buried her face in his chest, flung her arms around him, and cried and cried and cried.

They were alive.

They had survived.

[N7]

"Councillor, huh?"

"Yes… It was not my idea. But it was the best way I could help Thessia."

Elrika was sitting in a wheelchair, since Garrus insisted that she rest for a bit longer. Elrika didn't care. She just didn't want to be away from him. And she never was. He never left her side. The war veteran was even now continuously stroking her hair, and she panicked if he moved out of her line of sight without touching her. She had continual nightmares, and was besieged by insomnia, and randomly broke down into tears or lost her temper at the smallest thing.

Severe PTSD had set in, and it was going to take Elrika time to recover.

No one was in any inclination to rush her.

Garrus didn't care. He stayed by her side. He was her calming force, her focus, and he never wanted to be apart from her again.

Beside her sat Liara. Councillor Liara T'Soni, representative of the asari race. The moment she had heard that Shepard was awake, Liara had left Thessia and headed to Budapest, where Elrika was recuperating in one of the only remaining hospitals.

The asari had not replaced her arm. She had the remaining bone of her shoulder removed, and the wound sealed closed. She wore a specially made suit of armour with no arm component. A reminder, an eternal badge of what she survived.

"And what does Feron think of that?"

Liara chuckled and coughed into her fist. "He… likes women with authority, he says."

Elrika smiled. "I don't think anyone could to a better job."

"Thank you, Shepard," Liara said, smiling in return. Her youthful face was scarred, and her eyes were haunted, but she smiled regardless.

On Elrika's other side sat Councillor Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch. She walked with a permanent limp now, and often used a cane to assist with her movements, but she refused cybernetic enhancements to make her leg better, despite the fact it caused her almost constant pain.

Like Garrus with his new cybernetic eye in place of his visor, they were going to forever wear the trophies of their survival.

Beside Tali was her constant bodyguard and connection to the geth consensus, a geth prime painted matte black. His 'name', or at least what he answered to, was 'Centurion'. Apparently, they had managed to recover four hundred and six of Legion's higher programs, and they all resided within Centurion. Those four hundred and six programs had insisted on fusing a shoulder plate of N7 armour to the body. He was not Legion, but he had a part of Legion inside of him, and that was close enough.

"Now I finally have the authority to tell the Admiralty Board when they're being morons," Tali joked, her hand wrapped through Shepard's. "A bit too late to be of any use, though. They're cooperating with the geth fully. Everyone's just happy to be home. I have had to reign in Xen, but that's about it. It's been close."

"Admiral Xen's enthusiasm for experimentation is understandably an integral part of her psychological makeup," explained Centurion. "Geth do not fault her for giving in to her urges. It is a biological flaw."

"It is a sad day when synthetics are the most forgiving of us," whispered Elrika, smiling up at Centurion.

"Perhaps," the geth said, the central arpeture focusing its blue lens on Shepard. "But we will never forgive the Old Machines for what they did."

"Geth forgive now?" asked Elrika, scowling. "I thought fear and hate were organic reactions to stimuli... or whatever Legion said."

"The geth are finding that we contemplate the Old Machines with disfavour. We are finding that we will react with hostility if we ever encounter them again. Hypothetical situations and simulations have resulted in a one hundred percent ratio of hostilities resumed, with the geth instigating, should an Old Machine ever be seen again."

"If the 'Old Machines' are ever seen again, I think we'll just take 'em out one by one, until they're all dead," Elrika said coldly. "We can't survive another war like that..."

"Speaking of," said Liara, drawing their attention to her. "Did you really talk them out of killing us?"

"Apparently." Elrika shrugged. "If what Garrus tells me is accurate, what I said must have had an effect."

"But why did they just leave?" asked Tali. "I don't understand."

Elrika sank back in the wheelchair. A turian hand emerged over her shoulder and she clutched it. "They thought they were doing the right thing. They wanted to do the right thing. All I had to do was point out that the right thing… was monstrous."

"Maybe the Protheans should have tried that," Garrus rumbled, stroking her cheek with his thumb claw.

"Don't tell Javik that," Liara said, covering her face with her remaining hand.

"Where is he, anyway?" asked Shepard.

"Prothean-Javik has gone on a pilgrimage journey to Ilos," explained Centurion. "We are monitoring his comm frequencies. If he desires to leave, we will retrieve him."

"Somehow…" Elrika looked up at the sky. "I think that's not going to be necessary." Returning to the present, she asked, "How go the repairs?"

"It's early days yet," Liara said sadly. "We're focusing on housing and feeding refugees, for now. The losses were… catastrophic, but we will recover. Repairs will be expensive and time-consuming. But the Council has decided that we're not going to rebuild, per se. We're going to recreate. Build anew."

"A good idea," Elrika said with a nod. "It's a new galaxy we're facing. How are the other races gong?"

"The salarians fared the best," explained Tali, doing that quarian gesturing thing she did. "Their homeworld was hit last by the Reapers, and took the least amount of damage. Tuchanka was next best off. Having twelve thresher maws across the surface helped, I'm sure."

"And Councillor Bakara?"

It was Liara that answered. "Greeting her role with enthusiasm. She and Wrex have instigated a population regimen. Krogans can sire no more than two children during their lifespan. Female krogan are expected to give up their eggs until they have one left before beginning a breeding attempt."

"How are they taking that?"

"They're just happy they can have babies again," said Tali with a chuckle. "The males were a bit angry, but the females are surprisingly good at keeping them in check."

Garrus laughed. "Unsurprising."

"Good. What about Rannoch, Tali? And the quarian immune systems?"

Tali cocked her head. Then she reached up and disengaged her mask. Then she turned to Shepard and smiled, blinking her luminescent violet eyes.

"What do you think?"

Elrika smiled and touched her arm.

"I'm happy for you."

"I'll get a small cold from this, but that's about it. We're progressing much faster than we would have thought. And it was not possible without you, Elrika." Tali clasped Shepard's wrist.

"None of this was," said Liara, touching Elrika's other arm. "Thank you."

"Eh." Elrika pulled away, grimacing. "Stop it. You're going to make me sick."

All of them shared a laugh. All of them except Centurion, who did not think making someone who had been as injured as Commander Shepard had been ill was a good idea.

[N7]

"I was pretty banged up…"

"Well, you weren't spaced, burned up in re-entry and smashed from terminal velocity, so I can safely say you've been worse."

Elrika lowered the datapad and arched a brow at Chakwas, who was leaning against the wall of her private room. "I had a collapsed lung, a bruised heart, brain haemorrhage, a dozen broken bones, twice as many fractured ones, a perforated liver, third degree burns, a shattered shoulder and a hangnail."

"And here you are, three weeks later, up and out of bed," Karen Chakwas said, approaching Shepard and sitting on the bed. "Cerberus sure knows how to build them." When Shepard grimaced, Chakwas touched her knee. "Don't be like that, Shepard. Without them, we never would have gotten you back."

"Without them," whispered Shepard, looking away, "a lot of people would still be alive. Including all the people that died on the Citadel."

"And without you," Chakwas countered, sitting down on the bed, "we would all be dead. Even him."

Elrika glanced over to Garrus, who was sleeping in a chair beside her bed, his fingers twined with hers.

Elrika had the best possible treatment by asari, salarian and human doctors, and those that could not attend had sent advice. Funding had poured in for Commander Shepard's recovery. And future. She was, apparently, worth a net amount of nine billion, seven hundred and fourteen million credits.

Upon finding this out, Elrika had donated nine billion, seven hundred and thirteen million to every cause she could find. The one million, she explained, was for human-turian babies.

"You know, the entire time you were in surgery, he didn't move from the hall? He just sat there, staring, waiting for you to come out. And when you did, and we said you wouldn't wake up… He never left. He just slept, ate, stayed in your room. When you woke up was the first time he left in three weeks."

"Typical," Elrika laughed quietly. "I would do that, wouldn't I?" Elrika squeezed his hand and looked at Chakwas. "So. You retired yet?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm helping the injured on earth. My trans-sapient expertise is in high demand with so many too injured to travel. But…" Her face darkened.

"But?" prompted Elrika.

"Our factories were destroyed, Shepard. Our industrial areas. We're running out of medical supplies faster than more can be brought in. We're going to lose a lot of people… More people than we'll save."

"It's alright, Karen," Elrika said, touching her arm. "As long as we're still alive, there's hope."

"I know." Chakwas touched Elrika's hand, smiling. "Surprisingly, the geth are being the greatest help. They've dedicated many platforms and programs into tirelessly making medical supplies. Without pay. We wouldn't be as far as we are without them. You did a good job saving them..."

"To be honest... I knew I had to. No offence to the quarians, but the geth are far more useful. And reliable. I'm just glad the quarians listened to rason for once..."

Chakwas laughed quietly, "I think the quarians think the same thing..."

"I know Tali does," muttered Shepard.

"You should be discharged within the next few days. I know a lot of people will want to talk to you. "Any idea what you'll do?"

Elrika glanced at Garrus again.

"Maybe," she said with a smile.

"Commander."

She looked back at Chakwas, and blinked when she saw tears in the older woman's eyes.

"You saved us. You save us all. I just wanted to say… thank you, Elrika. Thank you so much."

Elrika's eyes widened. Then she squeezed Chakwas' hand as the doctor began to cry, simply happy to be alive.

[N7]

Elrika walked out of the Council's makeshift chambers. With the Reaper war over, the new Council was radically redesigning the Citadel's construction. The Presidum spire was to be demolished, and a new Council chambers to be built within the Presidium itself. The Council would meet with people in person, not separated by a chasm.

The Council races now consisted of krogan, salarian, asari, human, quarian, turian… and geth. That last one surprised Elrika, but apparently it was made because of her belief in the geth. And the geth collective meant that the whole species could make an informed decision, not one individual on their behalf.

The entire Council had died, also buying people time to flee from the husks. Primarch Victus was now Councillor Victus, and was apparently deeply involved in the repair effort on Palaven and could not be present for the meeting. He had sent Shepard a quick message saying they would catch up.

In honour for his dedication to the cause despite the wishes of the dallatresses, Captain Kirrahe had been elevated to the rank of Councillor.

And this was all because Shepard had idly mentioned who would make a good Councillor.

Apparently Shepard was not the most politically influential person in the galaxy. She said something, and everyone realigned their lives to make it happen. It wasn't even grapefruit season, and she idly mentioned she would love some grapefruit juice. A day later, a bottle was delivered, chilled.

She hadn't touched it.

She didn't know what she would do with this newfound power she had. She wasn't sure she wanted it. She went from no one listening to her, to everyone changing their lives on her word.

"I'm just a soldier. I can't lead anyone."

"You led the entire galaxy," Garrus countered from her shoulder, his hand on the small of her back. "I think that qualifies you for the role."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want this power."

"You have it, regardless, Shepard. You convinced the krogan and the turians and the asari to work together. You convinced the geth and the quarians to live in peace. You convinced the Reapers to leave. This is all possible because of you. Because of your charisma and diplomacy. Don't ever sell yourself short."

Elrika stopped at a rail, ignoring the way people whispered and pointed. Despite what she expected, though, most people gave her a wide, wide berth, respecting her injuries and her trauma. She thought she would be mobbed with reporters and questions and fans, but when they heard that she was suffering because of what happened… no one was willing to bring it up.

Elrika was appreciative of that. She didn't want to be famous. She just… wanted to be normal again.

She looked out over the Citadel, which seemed so quiet and empty now. Ninety precent of its population died when the Reapers dragged it to Earth. But not everyone Elrika knew. Kolyat Krios was alive. He had utilized his father's skills to save a few people by escaping into the Keeper tunnels like Kai Leng had done.

Aria T'Loak was dead. Apparently she and Sha'ira had combined their biotic powers and given their lives protecting dozens of people as they fled form the husks. Every single one of those people was still alive. In dedication to Aria's sacrifice, Omega was now a sanctuary for refugees, and the Blue Suns and Eclipse were keeping the less reputable occupants in line. They were also leaning on war profiteers quite brutally, from what Elrika heard.

They were not the only one who died. Bailey was gone, giving his life for his duty. So was General Oraka, who had almost single-handedly managed to hold off five hundred husks to get five transports full of people off the Citadel. Elrika wouldn't have believed it if there wasn't vidlog footage of his fight.

So many people gone. So many people dead. Good people. Bad people. Lost.

Elrika clasped her shaking hands and doubled over, closing her eyes. All she seemed to do these days was cry. Or rage.

Arms wrapped around her and a turian head rested on her shoulder, Garrus' temple brushing her own. He was infinitely patient with her. Soothing. Calming. She could never be without him. Not ever again.

"We're going to grow old and die," she whispered. "We're going to have three young adopted kids, and we're going to raise them to be good people who will help the future. And we're never going to let the Reapers be forgotten. We're never going to let future generations piss away this gift, alright, Garrus?"

"Sounds good to me." He kissed her cheek, the human way. "As long as we have a little human girl."

"With blue eyes."

"And a turian with green ones."

"And what about a little krogan?"

He laughed, lifting his head. "I was thinking maybe a drell. Or an asari. Simpler to handle. And they eat less."

"There are a lot of orphans out there, Garrus." She looked up. How are we going to choose?"

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," he said, stroking her hair. "For now, Elrika, take some time to rest, please. You deserve that."

"We deserve that." She clenched her hands around his. "But first… we have to do something."

[N7]

Arms folded around Shepard with more strength than she expected. After a moment, she hugged him back.

"I love you," Joker burst out. "When you died… when you died again… God, Elrika. Don't do that to me. Please don't ever do that to me again."

"To be honest, I thought you were going to do something stupid and die for me in exchange in the final fight," Elrika said, leaning back and touching his face. "I'm glad you didn't."

"I couldn't," Joker said earnestly. "I mean, I'm not that stupid."

Elrika laughed and closed her eyes. Then she looked over at EDI. "Are we ready to go?"

EDI nodded, "Yes, Commander."

"Is everyone coming?"

EDI blinked, and then tilted her head. "Was I meant to send invitations?"

Elrika felt her stomach drop out and she stepped toward EDI, scowling, "You-"

EDI smiled.

Elrika swore. "You bitch!"

"Gotcha."

[N7]

Elrika stared out at the blue ocean in silence, her red hair tied back in an ornate knot, strands allowed to escape around her face. Behind her was lush forests, uncharted terrain, and their only connection to civilisation was the shuttle that was sitting nearby. It had carried them all to the planet, all of them in their best clothes, to commemorate the event.

She had missed many funerals in her time recovering. Now was her chance to make up for it. And for all those that did not get one.

"Hard to believe we're back here, Commander." Ashley stepped up beside Shepard, wearing her new dress uniform. She was no longer a Spectre. The Spectres did not exist anymore. She was now a Captain of the Alliance Navy, and commanded great respect in her own right. "I'm glad, though. That you chose to have this here."

"Yeah." Elrika looked up at the sky.

"He's lookin' down on us you know?"

"Who?" Elrika glanced at Ashley. "God?"

"I meant Kaidan. But sure, Him too."

Elrika laughed and patted Ashley's arm. "I still don't believe in God, Ashley. If He was real, wouldn't He have done something more for us?"

"He did." Ashley looked at Elrika solemnly. "He gave us you. Our little miracle." When Elrika made a face, Ashley shrugged. "Or our big badass miracle with a gun?"

Elrika swore and shook her head. "I never want to hold a gun again."

"Now there's something I can toast to." Ashley lifted her glass. "But, for how... let's toast to something else, shall we?"

"Like what?"

"Anything you want," Elrika said, glancing at the asari councillor standing in the shallows with her, her white dress floating on the ocean. "I'm sure we all have something we want to toast. So toast anything you want."

Ashley fingered her glass for a moment. Then she exhaled and lifted her head and her hand. "To the fallen."

Liara did the same. "To the living."

"To peace," said Tali, coming to a stop beside them, her own glass in the air, now able to drink it with her bolstered immune system.

"To love." Joker raised his glass, his arm around EDI's waist.

EDI raised an empty glass, a gesture more than anything. "To organic life."

"To a new beginning," rumbled Wrex, thrusting his giant drink into the sky.

"To the old." Grunt laughed as Wrex glared at him.

"To friends." Chakwas raised her bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy. The whole bottle.

Elrika looked down at her glass of whiskey. She glanced over her shoulder at the posts that had been driven into the dirt, each one with a glass of expensive whiskey atop them.

Thane Krios.

Miranda Lawson.

Mordin Solus.

Legion.

David Anderson.

Kaidan Alenko.

Elrika closed her eyes and clenched her fist around the glass.

It hurts... But it was meant to hurt. It was supposed to hurt. That was a part of life... Then she raised it and said, brokenly, "To tomorrow."

A hand wrapped around her waist and Garrus looked right at her as he lifted his glass slightly.

"To you."

Her eyes widened.

"We wouldn't be here without you, Shepard," murmured Garrus. "None of us would. So. A toast. To you."

"To Shepard!" roared Wrex.

The skies of Virmire trembled as they echoed his cry.

And they drank.

[N7]

"So. Have you given it thought?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Elrika closed her eyes and felt Garrus' claws along her scalp, loving the sensation. "I'm going to refuse."

"It's not going to change anything, you know. All you'll have to do is call up the Council and say something and everything will realign."

"I'm sick of changing stuff. I just want to disappear. I never want to fight again. I never want to hold a gun again. I don't ever want to be in another war for as long as I live."

"I seriously doubt that there'll be another war. And if there is, it won't be between any of our races." Garrus cupped the back of her head. "You made sure of that."

"What about you?" Elrika pushed herself up onto her elbow. "Are you going to accept?"

"No." Garrus shook his head. "No way in hell."

"Primarch Vakarian has a nice ring to it though, Garrus."

He sat up, the sheet spilling down around his waist, and pulled her across his lap. "But if I become Primarch, I have to go back to Palaven, and humans can't survive on Palaven. And I want to be able to kiss you anywhere. Not wait until you take an environmental suit off..."

"You became a hopeless romantic, you know that?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

He grinned and brushed his face against hers. "So. Who are you going to choose in your place? Because you have to choose."

"I don't know…" Elrika twined her fingers with his and stroked her nails along his wrist. "Hackett won't do it. I nearly ruined Anderson by putting him as Councillor. Neither will Ashley. She hates politics. Chakwas only wants to be a doctor. And… everyone else is dead."

"Not everyone…"

"Who, then? Jack?" Shepard laughed. Then stopped laughing when she saw Garrus staring at her. Then she looked away and closed her eyes, clenching her fists. "It's only until someone else comes along."

"It always is, Shepard."

"Will you stay with me?

"Of course. Why do you think I won't be Primarch? There is a line of succession for the role. But not for Councillor. And I want to stay with you. Forever."

Elrika lifted her head and looked up at him, tears flowing down her face. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. The only good thing that came out of the Reapers. The only thing I can't hate them for." She gasped as pain clenched her chest and she clutched at him. "I know it's selfish… Horrible, even. Because so many suffered and died. But I'm glad the Reapers came, if only so I could be with you. Without them, Saren would never have turned on us. And we... we would never have met."

Garrus leant forward and kissed her, holding her close. No passion to the kiss. No heat. Just… pain. And joy. And love.

"I love you, Elrika Shepard."

"And I love you, Garrus Vakarian." She drew away, blinking. Then she turned and swung her legs off the bed. "I better go tell Joker to bring the Normandy back to the Citadel."

Garrus held her tightly. "Wait."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes wide. He cupped her face and drew her back to the bed. "A few more hours. Please. Just a bit more time…"

Elrika gasped, fresh pain washing up. It would always hurt, she realised. The people she lost. The people she loved. Her memories of the war. She would always have her traumatic stress. She would always have nightmares. But she would also always have Garrus, and that made it bearable.

Sliding back into the bed, she wrapped her arms around him, and he pressed his forehead against hers, holding her naked form close against his.

"I will never leave your side…"

[N7]

Councillor T'Soni glanced back at the others with a rustle of her dress. "This is it. The first unified Council since the war. Are you ready?"

Councillor Tali'Zorah nodded and stopped wringing her hands. "Yes. No. I think so." She smoothed down her quarian finery. It was still an environmental suit, but she no longer had a mask on, her immune system sufficiently bolstered by the geth in her suit to be able to walk around without it.

"You will do fine, Councillor," said Councillor Bakara, touching the young quarian's shoulder. Unlike the others, her formal attire was the same as always, no changes made for her ascension to rank. "The people love you."

"For now," she groused.

"I think this is the first time the females have outnumbered the males," chuckled Councillor Victus. He straightened his collar, and then checked the black arm band tied to his right arm. This prompted everyone else to do so, although Councillor T'Soni required Centurion's assistance.

Councillor Kirrahe laughed. His attire was still slightly military, and he wore some components of armour, but that was to remind himself of where he had come from, and what he was fighting for on the Council instead of on the field. "Not only that, Victus, but we're surrounded by heroes."

"We're not heroes," countered a voice from the back. "We're just alive."

"The crowd has assembled," reported Councillor Gestalt, the geth platform appointed to the position. It had been specifically designed for the role, much of the organic material of its body hidden by robes, its armoured carapace flashy rather than practical, and its head was not a hood, but an ornate crown-like crest. "They are ready."

"Alright." Councillor T'Soni kissed the cheek of her drell husband and stepped out into the hallway. "Come on."

Feet followed her, not just the Council, but all those that stood by them and supported them. The Council would no longer stand alone, or above, or apart from the people they ruled. Not any more.

Councillor T'Soni and Feron emerged from the darkness onto the floor, and all around them, standing on the same level as they, a roar erupted. A roar that grew louder with Councillor Victus and Councillor Kirrahe's emergence. A roar that swelled when Councillor Zorah, Centurion and Councillor Gestalt followed suit. A roar that was drowned out by krogan when Councillor Bakara stepped into the light.

Councillor T'Soni held up her hand, and the crowd fell silent. All the unified races stared back. Literally, all of them. Not just turians, humans, asari and salarians. Not simply volus and elcor and hanar, either. Geth were in the crowd. Quarians. Krogans. Vorcha. And here and there were the massive forms of rachni, sparing time from their work so their queen could pay homage to their new leaders and their hero.

There were soldiers and civilians. Mercenaries and criminals. All were given amnesty to attend the ceremony. Everyone was invited.

"Thank you all for coming here. Thank you all for celebrating with us. Thank you all for everything." Councillor T'Soni looked over her shoulder, and then back at the crowd. "It has been a trying time for us. A dark time. We have suffered. And we have lost. But we survive. And we will heal."

"The mistakes of the past have been learned," added Councillor Tali'Zorah. "Wars have been ended. Peace has been brokered. We are entering a new age of galactic peace coexistence and cooperation."

"Much was destroyed when the Reapers came," said Councillor Victus, his strong voice ringing out as he put his hand on Tali's shoulder to support her at her first official Council hearing. "But we will rebuild. Together. And we, the Council, will toil right beside you, as we once fought and bled beside you."

Kirrahe spoke up next. "The ranks of the Spectres have been dissolved. No longer will the Council stand apart from you, with our agents doing our bidding. We are a part of you. We are one of you. And you are us."

"It is not a utopian time." Councillor Bakara was the first female krogan many had ever seen, and she immediately commanded respect. "It will not be a time of complete peace. But we all have fought for our right to live. And we have fought together. So we shall continue to do so. All races, all roles, working together. Cooperating. For a new future for our children."

"We have learned," came Gestalt's voice, programmed for emotional enthusiasm and empathy. "We have changed. We have adapted. We have evolved. Mistakes were made. But we forgive. Wars were fought, but we survive. We have souls. We will honour this gift."

"And as long as we survive," said Councillor T'Soni, "there is hope. But this survival has come at a heavy cost, and a heavy price. We will forever honour the fallen, and we will do so by seeing out our tomorrow. A tomorrow we owe to one person. Someone who fought for us before we even knew we were in danger. Someone who has died for us, twice, and returned to help us. Someone to whom we owe everything."

The Councillor's parted and two new forms emerged from the hall. A turian, heavily scarred, battle worn, wearing full heavy turian armour. His face was as known as the human woman who walked beside him, her head high, and her body draped in an elegant military dress uniform that would forever remind everyone - and herself – of who she really was.

"May I present our newest human Councillor. Elrika Shepard."

And the Citadel thundered with a roar of approval, a roar that was echoed by all of those watching from other parts of the galaxy, a roar that declared that they were there.

That they were alive.

[N7]

An entity closed its eyes and its consciousness, trusting the cycle of existence into the chaotic hands of organics. Whatever happened next… happened. And it was up to them to decide their own fate.

[N7]

PLEASE READ

Tl;dnr is at the bottom in bold. For convenience, I have split this into several sections.

My dearest readers and reviewers,

Never let it said that I don't cherish each and every one of you (yes, even you flamers. Here. Have a cookie). However, there has something that has been brought to my attention that I feel I can't ignore. And, yes, I am blatantly exploiting you, right now, but don't worry. This will be put on every single one of my fanfictions, so you're not the only ones.

As some of you may be aware, there have been a mass deletion of fanfictions and account suspensions and even bannings on this site. People are losing their stories and their accounts. Talented writers. Beginner writers. Hobbyists. This is due to their fictions being reported for infractions on this site's rules, all because of an elitist stranglehold and monopoly of membership and participation on this site.

'Critics United'/ 'Literate Union'

Aka, an attempt to validate vicious cyberbullying

Now, let it never be said that I think that the rules should be violated, or that violations should be allowed. They are there for many reasons, most primarily legal. has been careful to ensure that we are all able to post fanfictions on this site, an act in and of itself that can be considered legally questionable. After all, we are appropriating intellectual property that belongs to those that are not ourselves, aren't we (although let me remark on the hilarity of having potentially plagiarised images on our plagiarised stories). Those who run have done incredible work, voluntarily, and are amazing people for doing so. However, whether or not these fictions violate the rules, or the validation of the removal of their works is not what I am bringing to light here. You are able to formulate your own opinion on the matter, and you are responsible for your own works.

As well as your own behaviour.

And it is behaviour that I wish to address here. The horrendous and reprehensible behaviour of members of this site who have joined together in a hateful mission of cyber bullying. Because that is exactly what this is; the most deplorable example of victimisation and antagonism I have ever seen on this site. These people specifically target stories that violate this site, and persistently hover over it like vultures, pecking away at the victim until they get what they want; which is ultimately a deletion of all stories that violate the rules of this site.

These are not people who report stories and move on. They have made it their mission to see deleted each and every single fiction that exhibits an infraction of the rules, however major or minor, and in the process humiliate and persecute the authors who – as I have seen many of them state – are apparently deserving of the ridicule that this group inflicts upon them.

And they have a forum dedicated to this end. On this site. There, they collate fictions that they have seen deleted, either directly or indirectly, in a hall of shame. They also bring forth fictions for judgement by their fellows for the sole purpose of deciding whether or not it violates the rules and, if it can be proven that it does violate the rules, they proceed to head to the fiction en-mass to spam the story's review feed and report the fiction if they don't comply to the site's rules.

They collate deleted fictions in a 'hall of shame' topic that allows them to display all the fictions that have been deleted because of their actions. They congratulate each other on a job well done. They laugh at poor writing, drag people through the dirt, and for what? So that they can feel good about their 'hard work'? So that they can feel as though they have some great power holding life or death over these fictions, passing judgement on these authors?

Now, for their credit, they seem to think they are doing the right thing. They ensure to discuss questionable fics, ensure that they are breaking rules, and then go and report. And some of them are courteous and polite about their warnings. On the forum, one person this:

"1. None of the people on this site are god, but the admins on this sitedodecide what stories get to be on here based on the guidelinesyouagreed to.

2. The people here don't report stories because they're bad, we report stories because they break guidelines. (This includes horrific spelling, grammar, and chat-speak.) Given, if it is a bad story, we might tear it to pieces with our criticism, but we don't report it."

This statement is of merit, and would be acceptable, if it were not for the fact that, four posts down, the same person posted this:

"Reviewed and reported. Really, do all stupid fangirls really think they're going to get away with absolute crap like this? Just as well, why must all of them put it in eye-blinding bold and italics?"

The hypocrisy of them trying to claim some noble cause while passing these personal judgements sickens me. After all, I don't know about you, but I am a fangirl of many things, and saying such disparagingly judgemental terms makes me feel like this person puts themselves at a level far above my own. I don't want to seem arrogant or egotistical when I say this, but I would dearly love to see this person use the term 'fangirl' as an insult to my face.

One group of people call themselves 'Critics United', but I can safely say that their self-titling is pathetic. These people are not critics. They are bullies hiding under a guise of justification because they are only targeting those that break the rules of this site. A cause like that does not explain or validate their actions in any way. It is not less bullying, it is not less a ridiculous display of egotism, and it is no less an act of victimisation. This is not critiquing, this isn't even constructive criticism, as they like to claim it. I am a critic. I am a literature student. And I would never, ever equate these people with holding the role of critique, unless they are referring to the meaning of being negative naysayers.

Moreover, you do not justify your actions as constructive criticism when you force it down someone's throat. Not everyone can handle constructive criticism, and you don't get to stamp your words and self-stylise in order to validate such criticism when someone doesn't want it. That is still bullying.

The fact that these people try to veil their victimisation behind courteous and polite words doesn't make it any less bullying. Doesn't make it any less than a vindictive desire to hold some elitist hold over writing over this site, and proclaim themselves judge, jury and executioner of people's fictions. They have been screenshotted in reviews saying things like 'piece of **' 'toxic crap' and directly insulting people's writing skill. I don't know about you, but this kind of juvenile behaviour cannot be considered 'critiquing'. That behaviour is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. How dare they hold some holier-than-thou attitude over other writers and maintain some sort of integrity because they are 'enforcing the rules'.

As I have said, I do not condone rule breaking in any way, shape or form on this site, and I have been careful to ensure that my own fics do not break the rules. But that does not mean that I feel I have a right to hunt down all the fics that do break the rules. It is the responsibility of each and every member to ensure their works don't break the rules, and to report those that flaunt the rules.

And then move on.

Making a group for the sole purpose of some self-imposed duty of policing disgusts me. The idea that someone has read my fictions, nodded their head and said 'You pass', decreeing that I would be allowed to post not merely because I have followed the rules, but because they gave me permission to disgusts me. These people have taken a power that belongs to everyone, and decided to turn it toward their own means, believing that they are safe and okay because they are merely upholding the rules of the site. When, in actuality, that is not at all merely what they are doing.

And what is worse, is condoning their behaviour. I do not believe that the administrators of this site are reading the stories they have deleted, validating that they violate the rules, and then deleted them based on their own judgement. Instead, they are going after people based on the report count listed by their name, a count that this group, Critics United, is largely responsible for.

For those members of this group who feel that they have some form of duty to patrol this site for this purpose, but are careful and courteous in their reviews and warnings, I'm sorry. But you willingly associate with this ego-trip and I am afraid you are not completely free of blame.

For those of you that use this as an excuse to flaunt your superiority over others, and then claim no responsibility for your actions because you are 'upholding the rules'… There is no excuse, justification, or validation for your behaviour. None.

Nor is there an excuse, justification, or validation for 's condoning of it.

A worse group, however, is the Literate Union, which is almost identical to Critics United except for the fact that they are fully aware of the fact that all they do is flame, degrade and viciously bully those who they believe is worthy. They are everything I have stated above, without an attempt to justify their cruel behaviour. These people are slightly more self-aware, but even less mature in their actions. They have a forum dedicated to asking one another to specifically go and flame people and their stories, and I am at a loss as to the reason why.

Critics United have embarked on a witch hunt because they want to destroy the witches and purge their town.

Literate Union just wants to watch people squeal and burn in the flames.

This is cyber bullying, without any explanation or excuse. 'Upholding the rules' is not something I will accept. It does not require this level of hunt-and-kill execution that these people are exhibiting. It isn't their right to take it upon themselves to tear apart each author, post it on their hateful forum and giggle behind their hands with one another.

I do not want to be associated with a site that condones this blatant display of bullying.

The rating system/the bannings and deletions

AKA I think you missed one

As many readers may be aware, this time of year slows down for me because of my university. I have also been unable to post new chapters on my fanfiction because I am writing a thesis, and it is draining most of my energy. I have to work toward a Ph.D scholarship, which can range anywhere from thirty-five to sixty-five thousand taxpayer dollars, which makes me want to make sure I am deserving of it. However, I was in the process of re-writing several of my fics, and prepared to post them en-mass when I next had time.

However, I would like to draw attention to this section of the front page;

June 4th 2012 - Notices:

Please note we would like to clarify the content policy we have in place since 2002. follows the Fiction Rating system ranging from Fiction K to Fiction M. Although Fiction Ratings goes up to Fiction MA, since 2002 has not allowed Fiction MA rated content which can contain adult/explicit content on the site. only accepts content in the Fiction K through Fiction M range. Fiction M can contain adult language, themes and suggestions. Detailed descriptions of physical interaction of sexual or violent nature is considered Fiction MA and has not been allowed on the site since 2002.

I would state here, briefly, that the idea of not having a mature rating for mature readers has always perplexed me. I feel making them unavailable to unregistered readers, and having a function in a profile that allows for a 'I am over the age of 18' box to be checked would cover the ethical issues in regards to this. Ethical considerations on the internet require only a disclosure of age and consent of content that is about to be read. Once a person checks a 'I am over the age of 18' box, the people who are exposing them to the information are no longer liable for any legal action. They have fulfilled their requirement of responsibility. As such, not having a mature section for this site has never really made sense for me. However, that is not what I wish to address here.

As such, I regret to inform my readers that, though the content of my stories are not exclusively of this nature, many of my fictions feature such violence in their content, from detailed description of sexual interaction (Gestalt, and the intent in Paradise Lost), and violence (pretty much every single one of my fictions). What you would consider 'detailed' and rule violating, however, is subject to opinion, but from what I have addressed, opinion is enough to get your story deleted, or your account suspended or banned. I had thought that if the story had the content, but did not feature it as the main issue – for example a romance that went into sex, but did not have sex in every chapter – would be allowed as a mature example of professional writing.

I was, apparently, wrong.

I am fortunate that all of my stories exist on my laptop and not exclusively on , but it would devastate me to lose the wonderful reviews I have gotten from you, the painstaking time that you have all put in to telling me your thoughts and feelings on my work, helping me improve, giving me invaluable feedback and encouragement. I have been dragged from the depths of writer's block and depression because of the things you have said, and I cannot even imagine how some people feel with their stories deleted, not only losing their work, but the amazing reviews that people have left for them, to show them that their work is appreciated.

And let me say that the idea that is deleting fanfictions that depict graphic sex or violence, but are allowing people like Critics United and

I also do not feel like waiting for the Critics United group to turn their attention to the Mass Effect category and rifle through it, finding my fictions and passing their judgements on my work. It isn't their right.

The result

As such – and I know many of you are going to hate me for this, and I'm sorry –henceforth, in protest of the actions being taken on this site;

I will no longer be updating any of my fanfictions.

I will not be posting the rewrites of Paradise Lost, In the Shadow of Gods and A Cage of Butterflies that I have been working on.

I will not be posting new stories or one-shots on this site, nor any planned sequels.

Whether or not I repost my fictions elsewhere, and whether or not I post new fictions elsewhere has yet to be decided.

This is me being responsible for my own actions, my own opinions, and my own image, in that I will not be associated in any way with these people, nor will I allow their actions to go unaddressed.

This is not a message to . This is a message to you, my readers, my reviewers. Critics United are a group of vicious cyberbullies who defend their actions with the guise of 'upholding the rules'. Literate Union are simply cyberbullies who do not even try to defend their actions, and their actions are blatantly antagonistic and cruel. This does not make it any less bullying. It does not make their actions any less cruel. While I advocate that the rules be upheld, and I know that some fictions are in blatant violation of them, this group should not be allowed to continue conducting themselves as they have. These people purposefully seek out and victimising members of this site, and this is not behaviour I want to endorse, condone, forgive, be associated with, or turn a blind eye to.

I am not sure if I will post my works elsewhere for people to read. If I do, I will let you know.

I have created a tumblr for mass communication in case my account on is deleted. annewhynnfanfiction(youknoetherest) Please add me. I will keep everyone updated.

This needs to stop.

I love you all sincerely and dearly. You are my valued readers and reviewers, and you make me so happy whenever I hear anything from any of you. But this is unacceptable.

I am sorry.

For the forseable future, this is me signing out.

Love

Anne

P.S – Feel free to send me reviews filled with rage and hate, condemnations for my actions and… well. Anger. I have marshmellows ready.