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Date with an intergalactic murder machine

I... really need to share this crazy Mass Effect dream I had this morning while avoiding getting out of bed to go to work.

This comes out pretty much like fanfic. As it was my dream, it's Mary-Sue, but - I'd like to know what other people make of it.

So.
I was on an Alliance colony planet, around the time the Reapers make it to our galaxy. Architecture was more Stargate than Mass Effect.

Reapers were invading the colony, but there was also some kind of communication between the colonists and the Reapers rather than just "Hello." *crush humans* BWAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH *red lasers*

It seems our colony had something of interest to the Reapers. They were here for more than their mission to wipe out advanced organic life. Even though I wasn't a part of the communications going between the colony leaders and the Reapers, I somehow managed to get caught up in the conversation. It didn't take place in real time or space. It was taking place in some sub-space, between-dimensions.

Cue my human brain re-assembling what I was seeing into something I could comprehend.

The Reapers were represented by humanoids (perhaps each humanoid was modelled on races previously harvested by the Reapers, that would make sense) sitting around a large white marble table in tall, elegant marble chairs. The few humans being interrogated/communicated with were standing at the foot of the table, a stark contrast. Clothed in rags and filth, they were foreign particles in the eye of the universe. The Reapers wore robes of white.

I don't remember the discussion. Some of the Reapers were trying to impart information rather than retrieve it. Most of them I couldn't make out, from the angle I was standing. One Reaper humanoid kept catching my eye - it had orange and green scales or hair, visible above the robes. I could never quite see all of it.

It's Harbinger. I know it.

Back to the colony. We are running from the red eyes of the Reapers, inside a building with large glass windows. Each time a Reaper moves forward, we weave and duck to avoid detection, hoping that the energy beams won't sweep through to destroy our hiding places.

There are no Marauders or Husks. Just the Reapers. This is a personal visit.

I don't know why - I'm me, not Commander Shepard, that's for certain - but I need to get back to that white marble room.There is still hope. I can change this.

A red beam sweeps through the tall building we are hiding in. Colonists around me are vapourised, the rest of us jumping into a lift shaft, getting bruises and broken bones but missing the beam that swept the floor minutes before.

As I fall down the elevator shaft, I hit my head against something.

I'm back in the white room.

The humans are gone, just rags where they stood. But still the sound of human voices crying out, attempting to negotiate with the Reapers in more and more desperate tones echoes around me. Not all are desperate. Some of the voices are still strong - the Reapers are not using their full force against us yet. Many are dead, our cities are in ruins, but still - something is being held back. They're waiting for something.

I have to get to Harbinger.

Suddenly I am lifted off my feet. A deep gust of blood red air envelops me, I spin; I'm trapped in glass. Others are beside me, all in glass, bell-shaped containers. We're still in the white, empty between-space. A Reaper steps forward - one for each glass container. My neck is weighed down, I can't look up to see the one before me.

Somehow I know we are to be kept as final examples of our genetic diversity, alongside 'final' examples of other forms of life also kept in this between-space. Each Reaper has nominated elements - humans, plants, animals - to be preserved from each planet in this place.

Humans are not dead yet. I know that maybe 80% of the colonists have been killed or harvested, but there is still hope. I still feel like we can change this. Being selected for non-Reaper-form preservation gives me an opportunity.

I lift my head up, struggling against an invisible weight. I look the Reaper before me in the eye. Harbinger.

I look him in the eye - and everything goes black. The glass is gone - it's just us.

I talk. I don't know what I say. But I know somehow he isn't able to see fully into my mind - there are places I can plan and think that aren't available to him (then again, in the books Indoctrination does tend to take time, even when [spoiler] was Husk-ified, he was able to keep parts of his mind separated from Reaper control for quite a while.)

He doesn't laugh at me - Reapers don't laugh - but I feel condescension. Arrogance. A joy in fulfilling the purpose of the Reapers.

And... pity?

Reapers are not uniform. Reapers are unique. They may be created to fit into a visual/structural mould but there are entire peoples involved in their creation. They are incomprehensible, but each in a different way. There are remanants of what they once were, still. Nothing sentient, but it's there. The pieces of past peoples.

I don't know if the race Harbinger was made from were the first to become a Reaper. But he is very old. It is very old. And there are patterns of behavious and attitude unique to this Reaper.

I can use this.

But people are dying. I can feel the destruction whipping past me - I feel, but can't see, the red wind whipping around the between-space, the last breaths of my companions in the lift shaft.

Then is all gets very Harry Potter/Care Bears/Naruto/One Piece/what have you.

Because my words and logic aren't getting through to the Reapers via Harbinger, I turn my thoughts into feelings, attempting to connect, some level of empathy. Open my mind to the entire Reaper invasion, but project nothing but stillness, life, love, hope, construction, achievment, birth... every positive emotion I can summon from my experience as an individual.

I know, I know, mega cheesy. Hey, I dreamed it, I didn't plan it!

And now I'm not talking to the Reapers. I'm talking to the billions that form each of them. A molecule remembers everything that it has ever been. The universe remembers every shape, every configuration, every pattern. It's not spiritual, it's physics. And in this between-space, it's easier to remind the atoms, the components, what they have experienced before. All options, all choices, all emotions, all stories.

And the Reapers feel it. And they step forward. I step forward. I pass through Harbinger like a ghost, like water passing through a cell membrane. Every atom, every sub-atomic particle combines and parts. The patterns are united, every being that ever was and is. Then separated.

No End of Evangelion here, folks, move along.

And the Reapers stop their advance. And all who have survived race towards them, over the rubble, the smoke and the destruction. Humans, Turians, Salarians, Asari, Krogans. On every planet, the Reapers slow, and wait.

And we run to meet them. As old friends. Lovers. Family. There is peace.

...

...

...

Wait. Did I just romance Harbinger?! o_o

...And then I woke up!

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
becthetech
Jul. 14th, 2012 01:49 pm (UTC)
Don't know Mass Effect, but that's a pretty awesome dream ^_^
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )