After leaving the Council chamber, Markus walked away without a backward glance. He knew the Councilors needed time to process the truth he'd revealed, and he was curious to see reaction of Systems Alliance to being excluded. Would they try to sway him? Will Shepard still be the heroic idiot he is?
With a thought, he vanished and appeared back to the Collector Base after a few jumps. The familiar ripple of energy vanished, replaced by the cold stillness of space. The grotesque architecture of the base stirred something within him. Not dread, but potential. It was a blank canvas begging for transformation.
His mind flashed to an image from his past life: the floating castle of Sword Art Online. That wasn't enough. He envisioned something grander. A fortress of Gothic majesty, suspended against the void.
Voidwatch Castle, Markus's latest creation, loomed as an imposing, awe inspiring structure. Crafted from the immense debris surrounding the Collector base, he transmuted the remnants into the materials needed to build this massive fortress and increase his mastery of reality domination. Its architecture was a perfect fusion of Gothic grandeur and technological mastery. Towering spires pierced the void, their jagged edges stretching toward the heavens like the claws of some ancient beast. The dark stone of the castle absorbed the faint light from distant stars, casting an eerie shadow upon the landscape. Hovering at the edge of the event horizon, the castle seemed to defy the laws of nature, as if it were suspended between worlds.
Inside, the blend of old world Gothic perfection and futuristic technology was breathtaking. The grand hallways were lit with panels of pulsing energy, and the walls seemed to hum with a quiet power. Dread Knights were stationed on every intersection standing as the silent guardians. The throne room was the crowning jewel, its massive windows offering an uninterrupted view of the swirling black hole. The sight was mesmerizing and terrifying, the swirling mass of energy and gravity creating an almost hypnotic spectacle that demanded attention.
Markus settled into his throne, swirling vine from the Witcher World in hand. He regarded the black hole's pull as a mirror of his own inexhaustible thirst for power and the infinite possibilities that lay ahead.
He leaned back and started to examine his Status to analyze his progress;
[STATUS]
Name: Markus Tenebris
Codename: Ghost
Titles: Lord of the Undead · Master of Shadows · Godling · Reality Shaper · Spectre
Race: Godling
Class: Arch Magus
Level: 490
EXP: ~48.0 M / 55 M
Core Attributes
Strength: 20,000
Agility: 25,000
Endurance: 20,000
Intelligence: 75,000
Wisdom: 50,000
Luck: 10,000
Resources
Base HP: 200,000
Base MP: 5,000,000
Base SP: 220,000
Permanent Enhancements:
Divine Reaper & Mana Subspace:
+50% HP → 300,000 effective
+50% MP → 7,500,000 effective
+50% SP → 330,000 effective
Regeneration Rates (per minute):
HP Regen: 40,000
MP Regen: 1,000,000 (Enhanced by Mana Conduit)
SP Regen: 42,000
Defensive & Mobility Skills
Arcane Aegis: Mitigates 80% elemental/magical and 60% physical damage.
Void Rift: Instant planetary teleportation with brief invulnerability and heightened spatial awareness upon arrival.
Ethereal Wraith: Grants complete intangibility and invisibility.
Flash (Lv 10 - Ready for Evolution):
Range: 100 m.
Time Dilation: 90% slow within AoE
Combat Enhancement: +50% attack & movement speed during activation
Combat & Summoning Mastery
Soul Nexus (Lv 6):
Commands and store up to 2.2 million undead/hybrid units.
Integrated Soul Vortex: Absorbs souls within 10 km, permanently augmenting summoned army and personal attributes.
Shadow Exchange: Instantaneous positional swap with any summon.
World Gate: Opens portals through reality to any previously visited location.
Dimensional Drift: Instantaneous travel between different universes and alternate realities.
Mastered Arcane & Special Skills
Divine Reaper:
Permanent +50% to HP, MP, SP, and regeneration rates.
Reduces elemental spell costs by 25%, increases elemental damage by 30%.
Seamless shifting between physical and energy based forms.
Fate's Edict:
Precognition and subtle manipulation of future outcomes and probabilities.
Subjugation (Evolved from Absolute Sunjugation):
Absolute mental domination, permanently overrides all psychic defenses.
Effective against organic and synthetic minds.
Reality Domination (Lv 4):
Cosmic level reality manipulation across Astronomical Unit (AU) distances, allowing large scale restructuring and rewriting of physical and metaphysical laws.
Integrated Skills & Protocols
Apex Fusion Protocol (Passive, Lv 3):
Fully integrates Mass Effect classes (Engineer, Sentinel, Infiltrator, Vanguard, Adept, Soldier).
Continuous adaptive combat superiority and auto counter capabilities.
Passive mana upkeep: 2% per minute.
Unique & Strategic Abilities
Unique Subspace Creation (Lv 6):
Constructs and manages expansive pocket realms for secure storage, instant deployment, and tactical versatility.
Expanding capacity, duration, and complexity with each level.
Mana Conduit (Passive):
Harnesses nearly unlimited ambient mana absorbed from interconnected subspace realms, ensuring inexhaustible mana regeneration.
Omniscient Awareness (Passive):
Instantaneous data assimilation, processing, and interpretation on a galactic scale.
Inventory, Domains, & Strategic Assets
Raven (Flagship):
Reaper Tech enhanced warship featuring 20 Sovereign class lasers, triple layered defensive arrays, and perfect stealth capabilities.
Onyx (Sentient AI):
Highly advanced AI companion integrated with Reaper tech, ensuring flawless operation of Raven, fleet control, and cyber warfare.
Collector Base Domain:
Fully controlled subspace territory extending 100 AU radius from the base, reshaped into Markus's sovereign realm.
Witcher World Subspace Domain:
Entire Witcher world encapsulated securely within subspace, granting total control, protection, and access to unique resources.
With a satisfied smile Markus started to wait for Asari, Turians and Salarians to contact him. He was hoping to reach a new threshold upon reaching level 500.
After receiving the kindly worded invitations, Markus moved quickly. Within days of the Council meeting's conclusion, he convened a virtual summit of Asari and Turian leadership, not in any formal chamber, but aboard secure holo‑nodes hidden from Council logs. There, he laid bare the mechanics of Reaper indoctrination: how subtle neural manipulation corrupts thoughts long before physical conversion, how proximity to Mass Relays amplifies vulnerability, and how once infected, hosts become unwitting instruments of their harvesters.
He instructed every willing Asari and Turian to assemble small, self sufficient crews. Scientists, engineers, civilians, and soldiers, each cohort no larger than a starship crew. Their mission: vanish into deep space aboard unregistered vessels modeled after Destiny's Ascension, stocked with large rations, autonomous life support, and encrypted subspace comms accessible only by their own circle. These "Ilos Archives," as Markus called them, would remain invisible to all external databases, their departures recorded nowhere but in their own logs.
Each vessel charted courses that skirted known Mass Relay corridors and Reaper patrol zones. Markus provided proprietary algorithms to detect the faintest signature of indoctrination attempts. Biometric scans tuned to neurological patterns unique to Reaper influence. Any crew member exhibiting suspicious shifts would be quarantined instantly and secured in isolated cells.
Simultaneously, Markus undertook the disabling of select Mass Relays critical to security of Thessia and Palaven, not enough to cripple civilian transit, but sufficient to sever direct pathways the Reapers favored. He directed Asari and Turian governments to erect orbital monitoring outposts and deploy stealth drones to patrol every system beyond relay reach. Data feeds flowed into decentralized "watchtower" nodes, each impervious to external hacking by virtue of Markus's reality wrought encryption.
Within four weeks, thousands of unregistered expeditions had launched. Billions of Asari and Turians now orbited safe zones and stationed in far planets far from relay networks. Effectively becoming invisible to Reaper targeting matrices. Key systems across the Asari Empire and Turian Hierate bristled with new sensor arrays and cloaked sentinel ships.
The Salarians refused Markus's aid, insisting their scientific protocols alone would suffice. Markus offered a curt nod and left their fate to their own devices. The Systems Alliance scrambled intelligence assets to track his operations, but Markus's subspace concealed logistics rendered all surveillance futile. His Ilos based strategy had transformed vulnerable populations into phantom fleets: untouchable, untraceable, and ready to endure the coming purge until the Reaper storm passed.
The command deck of the Asari Presidium was a cathedral of light and glass. Until the first warning sirens shattered its calm. Councilor Tevos stood at the panoramic viewport, watching a constellation of evacuation transports spiral silently upward from Thessia's surface. Below, citizens streamed through sky bridges onto boarding platforms, their faces etched with terror and disbelief. Elegant Asari in flowing robes flitted among the crowds, herding families toward cloaked frigates that shimmered into existence and vanished into space.
"Seal every communication!" Tevos's voice rang out, reverberating against the crystalline walls. "Deploy the refugees! No one remains behind!"
Her lieutenant, a veteran warship commander, barked orders into his console. "All noncombatants to Gate Eleven! Shields up! Activate stealth transponders, zero signatures!"
On the horizon, the first Reaper cruiser appeared. A monstrous, angular silhouette against the lavender sky. Its hull split the clouds like a scythe. Massive ion beams tore through Thessia's orbital defenses, obliterating corvettes in a single pulse. Civilians watching from evacuation shuttles screamed as debris rained like meteors.
"By the Goddess…" Tevos whispered, voice cracking, eyes wide. "They're here."
On Palaven's stark command platform, Turian General Vas Narik roared above the din of alarms. Slender evacuation transports, bristling with hidden thrusters, launched from trenches carved into the planet's icy plains. Palaven's proud cities, once pillars of the Hierate lay abandoned, skeletal spires left to rot beneath swirling snow.
"Palaven is lost," Narik spat into his comm link, jaw clenched. "Divert all remaining forces to evacuation corridors Alpha and Gamma. Shield generators to full burn. Buy time!"
Outside the viewport, Reaper harvesters descended like locusts. Explosions erupted across the surface, blotting out the horizon in columns of fire and ash. "This… this cannot be undone," Narik muttered, eyes reflecting the inferno below. "Our home… sacrificed."
Half a galaxy away, Earth's orbital defense grid crumbled under the first salvo of Sovereign class Reapers. Admiral Anderson's voice crackled over the Alliance network as panic surged through command stations.
"All relay links severed! Heavy cruisers destroyed!" he barked. "Evacuation protocols Omega Seven now in effect!"
Below, New York's skyline disintegrated under crimson beams. Thousands of civilians fled into subterranean shelters, only to find Reaper infantry destroying everything in sight in the streets. Their flesh torn, eyes glowing with otherworldly light.
"We are losing… everything," a shaken lieutenant reported. "Containment is impossible!"
Anderson's voice broke for the first time. "This… this is extinction."
Sur'Kesh fared no better. Salarian scientists, once confident in their orbital shield arrays, scrambled to deploy evacuation pods as Reapers appeared above cities. The sky ignited in waves of plasma fire. On the ground, thousands of Salarian civilians collapsed under the assault.
Councilor Tevos's emergency broadcast echoed across Citadel Space: "To all species: Prepare your evacuation fleets. Avoid Mass Relay corridors. Stay hidden. Survive."
Across the void, ghost fleets of Asari and Turian vessels drifted, invisible to Reaper sensors. Humanity's only hope flickering dimly in the darkness as entire homeworlds burned beneath the merciless harvest.
A low, mournful siren echoed through the Asari Presidium's command suite as Councilor Tevos watched evacuation transports lift from Thessia's surface. Below, thousands of Asari poured into shimmering gravity lifts, clutching precious belongings and trembling children. The sky was streaked with the crimson trails of departing vessels, their forms vanishing into the void like tears in fabric.
"Seal the lower decks!" Tevos's voice rang through the chamber, brittle with urgency. "Activate stealth protocols, civilian cohorts only! All military assets hold position to protect departure corridors!"
Her lieutenant, Vahlara, barked orders into the console. "All civilian transports to jump coordinates Omicron Iota. Maintain cloak until beyond sensor range. Do not broadcast, vanish!"
Outside the panoramic viewport, the Reaper cruisers breached Thessia's atmosphere. Its enormous hull blotted out the afternoon sun. Plasma volleys ripped through orbital defenses, shattering turrets and incinerating corvettes. Below, city spires collapsed in clouds of dust and flame.
Tevos covered her mouth, disbelief etched across her face. "By the Goddess…"
On Palaven, Turian Commander Vas Narik's command center buzzed with controlled chaos. Soldiers, their armor dusted, shepherded civilians toward ships outfitted with subspace cloaks.
"Palaven evac corridors Alpha and Delta, proceed immediately!" Narik's voice boomed over comm. "Hold the line until every civilian is clear."
Narik's jaw tightened. "This planet will not fall quietly," he growled. "Defend our people, then fall back."
On Earth, Admiral Anderson paced the Normandy's bridge as the Alliance flagship fled atmosphere. Below, the London skyline was consumed by a cataclysm of fire and ash. Reapers still emerging, disgorging swarms of indoctrinated ground troops. Thousands of civilians fled toward hastily opened evacuation gates, but most found them sealed by malfunctioning relays.
Shepard gripped the railing, watching commuter hovercars erupt in flame. Entire city blocks disintegrated under focused ion beams. The sky glowed orange with conflagration; rain fell in sparks.
"Divert all surviving civilians to escape routes!" Shepard ordered, voice hollow. "Launch Normandy, now!"
Half a galaxy away, drifting in the silence beyond relay networks, Councilor Tevos received the Asari monitoring data. She watched live feeds of Earth and Sur'Kesh's annihilation: sprawling metropolises reduced to ash, survivors encased in indoctrination tendrils. Her calm mask shattered as tears streaked down her cheeks.
"We… we saved our people," she whispered to the empty void. "But at what cost?"
Moments later, Shepard arrived at the Citadel. He stormed through its marble halls, greeted by stunned stares and urgent comm alerts. As he reached the command deck, Tevos awaited him and Anderson, faces pale with grief and anger.
"Markus's strategy preserved billions of Asari and Turian lives," Tevos said quietly, voice trembling. "They are now invisible to Reaper scans."
Anderson's gaze bore into Shepard. "But Earth and Sur'Kesh were sacrificed. Civilians slaughtered because we failed to heed warnings. Markus excluded the Alliance entirely. Our mistakes have cost billions of lives."
Shepard's chest tightened. Rage and guilt warred inside him. Humanity should not bear this price for his failure. He slammed a fist onto the console.
"I will not stand idly by while Markus dictates our fate!" he roared, voice cracking. "Send a direct comm to him. He will answer for what he's done."
His eyes flicked toward the viewports, where distant stars seemed indifferent to the galaxy's agony. Shepard's resolve hardened. His psyche fractured by tragedy, yet driven by a singular fury: he would confront Markus, even if it shattered what remained of his soul.
Admiral Anderson's restraint snapped like shattered glass. In one fluid motion, his fist shot forward, connecting squarely with Shepard's jaw. Shepard stumbled backward, crashing to the deck beneath him. Dazed, he looked up through blurred vision as Anderson loomed over him, fury etched into every line of his face.
'He will answer for what he's done?' Anderson growled, voice low and savage. He jabbed a finger at the holoscreen behind Shepard, where London's skyline burned beneath crimson beams. "Who put you in charge of humanity, Shepard?"
Shepard struggled to rise, confusion and pain twisting his features.
Anderson's tone turned bitter, laced with scorn. "This devastation, this isn't Markus's doing. It's yours. Every innocent life turned to ash, every city razed, the result of your hubris."
He paced, boots echoing on the metal floor, then whirled back, eyes blazing. "Oh, great hero, savior of the human species, please, let us sink further. Find us an enemy. One so terrifying that even the Reapers steer clear!"
Shepard pressed a hand to his throbbing jaw, silent.
Anderson's voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Look at this!" He thrust Shepard upright toward the galactic map again. "Can you see a single Reaper near Markus's claimed domain? The Omega 4 Relay sits derelict. No Reaper fleet descends upon it. Yet here, Earth and Sur'Kesh lie butchered under their beams."
His chest heaved with controlled rage. "You provoked a being whose power eclipses our understanding. And for what? So humanity could pay the price? Yet even now, all you can think is to confront him 'again!'"
Shepard's silence answered him more clearly than words ever could. Anderson's final glare burned with bitter resolve before he turned away, leaving Shepard kneeling amid the wreckage of his own mistakes.
Admiral Anderson turned sharply to Councilor Tevos, tension radiating from every rigid line of his frame. "Councilor, can you establish a direct link to Markus?"
Tevos hesitated, her luminous eyes narrowing slightly as she weighed the implications. Recollections of past diplomatic attempts between Markus and the Systems Alliance filled her mind, each encounter had ended poorly, tainted by hubris of either Commander Shepard himself or his crew. She sighed quietly before responding, her voice steady but firm.
"I can facilitate the contact," she began cautiously, "but I must emphasize this: we do not have the luxury nor the right to confront him regarding humanity's exclusion. Markus's actions, however harsh, were the result of Commander's direct involvement. Lord Tenebris has saved billions. If we wish to speak with him, it must be with composure and respect."
Her gaze shifted pointedly to Shepard, whose jaw remained tight, eyes blazing with restrained fury. Anderson placed a warning hand firmly on Shepard's shoulder, conveying a silent but unequivocal message.
"We'll keep it civil," Anderson assured her quietly. "Arrange the meeting please."
Far beyond the chaos gripping Citadel space, Markus lounged comfortably on his throne within Voidwatch Castle, savoring a glass of fine wine brought from his Witcher world subspace. Screens hovered before him, each showing vivid, brutal reports of Reaper incursions on Citadel worlds. A faint smile touched his lips. Not one of cruelty, but of grim satisfaction at seeing his meticulously laid plans bearing fruit.
His contemplation was interrupted by a gentle chime as Councilor Tevos's comm request appeared. With a subtle gesture, Markus accepted the communication.
"Lord Tenebris," Tevos's voice was measured, respectful, even cautious. "We request your presence at the Citadel. Admiral Anderson and Commander Shepard wish to discuss recent developments."
Markus raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the tone. He considered briefly, then nodded in assent. "Very well, Councilor. Inform them I'll arrive shortly."
Closing the communication, he rose smoothly from his throne. With a thought, he vanished from Voidwatch Castle, instantly reappearing aboard the Raven. Settling into the command seat, he addressed his AI companion calmly.
"Onyx, plot a course for the nearest Mass Relay. Destination: Citadel."
"Affirmative," Onyx responded instantly, the Raven smoothly transitioning through space, hurtling swiftly toward the Mass Relay. Markus sat back comfortably, contemplating the impending meeting with a faint, enigmatic smile playing across his features as he anticipated the meeting ahead.
As Markus approached the Citadel, Shepard observed the movements of the Raven from the elevated vantage point of the Council chamber. Minutes later, Markus entered the hall, his demeanor composed and unruffled. He offered Admiral Anderson a curt nod, a silent acknowledgment before directing his attention to Tevos.
"Councilor Tevos," Markus began, his tone cool and measured, "to what pressing matter do I owe the summons? Have my efforts not sufficiently bolstered the survival prospects of your species within Citadel Space?" His tone was cold, though in his mind he was enjoying the ripples of change him being part of the plot made.
Without hesitation, Tevos stepped forward and embraced Markus tightly, her voice a murmur of gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Tenebris. Your strategy has preserved billions." Releasing him, she added, "However, it was not I who requested your presence, but rather Councilor Anderson."
Markus turned to face Anderson, one eyebrow arching in inquiry. "Admiral, our prior engagements with the Systems Alliance have been... less than fruitful. Each overture I extend is met with disdain. Consider the recent events surrounding the Collector Base: you sought my assistance, and upon my initial refusal, your Spectre employed every conceivable tactic to compel my involvement. Ultimately, I agreed to neutralize the Collector threat, with the understanding that the base and its contents would serve as my recompense. Yet, how did your species honor this accord? First, your Spectre confronted me aboard my own vessel! A brazen affront. Subsequently, despite our agreement, your kind endeavored to infiltrate my domain," he chuckled as if finding their attempts funny. "My domain, acknowledged by the Citadel Council, which you yourself is part of, no less. It appears the Systems Alliance reevaluated the worth of the Collector's base, its technology, vessels, and even the nascent human form Reaper. Tell me, Admiral, what compels me to extend any further consideration to your species?"
Admiral Anderson's shoulders sagged under the weight of his words. "Lord Tenebris," he began, his tone heavy with resignation, "What's done is done. I cannot change what has transpired." Markus's eyebrow arched at the admiral's forthrightness. Anderson pressed on, desperation edging his voice. "Humanity teeters on the brink of annihilation. Even as we speak, our people are being harvested."
Markus's gaze shifted, lingering pointedly on Shepard. "And whose actions have led to this precipice?" he inquired, his voice dripping with cold accusation.
Sensing the mounting tension, Councilor Tevos stepped forward, her demeanor conciliatory. "Lord Tenebris," she implored, "is there nothing we might offer to persuade you to aid in the evacuation of civilians?"
Markus's thoughts turned inward, reflecting on the unfolding events and the unaltered trajectory with minor changes of the starting events of Mass Effect 3. A faint smile touched his lips, satisfaction evident. "As a gesture of goodwill," he declared, "I shall divert the Reapers currently ravaging Earth. I advise you to ready your fleets to seize this opportunity and evacuate as many civilians as possible."
Markus's form vanished from the meeting hall, reappearing aboard the Raven, his course set for Earth. Upon reaching Earth's orbit, he stored the Raven within his subspace and commenced his descent toward London. As he entered the atmosphere, an arcane shield enveloped his form, shimmering against the reaper infested skies. With a commanding gesture, he summoned forth dragons he raised in the Solo Leveling World, their massive wings casting shadows over the city as they engaged the Reapers with ferocious intensity.
Simultaneously, hundreds of thousands of Hussars, Abyssal Wolves prowled alongside them, their senses attuned to lurking threats, Dragon Priests provided shielding and healing to both civilians and soldiers. Lich Overlords standing ominously, summoning mid to high level undead on the streets, their disciplined formations sweeping through landscapes to eliminate Reaper ground forces.
Markus's attention focused on the most formidable of the Reaper units: Sovereign class Dreadnoughts and Harvesters. Employing his Subjugation skill, he bent these colossal entities to his will, subsequently storing them within his subspace upon their domination. One by one, the Reaper forces dwindled under his relentless assault.
Aboard the Normandy, stationed in Earth's orbit, Admiral Anderson and Commander Shepard stood in stunned silence, witnessing the unprecedented spectacle unfolding below. The sight of dragons clashing with Reapers, alongside the coordinated efforts of Markus's summoned forces, left them awestruck. The tactical displays flickered with real time updates, showcasing the rapid neutralization of Reaper units.
"By the stars," Admiral Hackett's voice crackled over the comms, laden with disbelief. "I've never seen anything like this. Entire Reaper battalions... neutralized."
Shepard's gaze remained fixed on the viewport, where the sky above London was a tapestry of fire and shadow. "He's... turning the tide," Shepard murmured, a mix of relief and astonishment in his tone.
With Markus's intervention, Alliance dreadnoughts, carriers, and frigates seized the opportunity, evacuating civilians en masse, their paths now clear of Reaper threats. The coordinated efforts led to a significant preservation of human life, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of war.
City by city, metropolis by metropolis, Markus's summoned legions methodically cleared Earth's besieged urban landscapes of Reaper forces. Over three relentless days, his dragons scorched the sky, obliterating harvester ships with cascades of fiery wrath. Hussars galloped through ruined streets, blades singing as they purged twisted husks and marauders alike. Abyssal Wolves prowled, Dragon Priests shielded and healed, and Leech Overlords feasted upon the vitality of humanity's enemies.
From Earth's orbit aboard the Normandy, Admiral Anderson, Admiral Hackett, and Commander Shepard watched this extraordinary display in silent awe. Shepard's clenched jaw and narrowed eyes betrayed a storm of emotions, gratitude, disbelief, perhaps even envy. Admiral Hackett broke the silence, voice low and reverent, "In all my years, I've never witnessed anything close to this magnitude."
Anderson nodded solemnly, his expression a mixture of relief and humility. "Markus has given humanity a chance, an opportunity we cannot afford to waste. Let's use this time wisely and evacuate everyone we possibly can."
As the third day drew to its close, Markus dismissed his vast armies with a simple gesture. The summoned entities dissolved into shadows, returning to the sanctuary of his subspace. He cast a final dispassionate glance over the smoldering ruins of London before stepping into the void, vanishing instantly, leaving humanity a brief but precious respite.
Moments later, Markus materialized within the serene luxury of the Lodge of Sorceresses in his secured Witcher world subspace domain. The powerful sorceresses awaited him silently, their eyes glazed with unwavering devotion, minds bound by threads of his absolute control. He sank comfortably onto an ornate seat, accepting their graceful ministrations with an indulgent smile. The distant carnage of Earth's struggle was already fading from his immediate thoughts, replaced by the simple, refined pleasures provided by the enslaved sorceresses who served him without question or hesitation. Among them were notable figures such as Yennefer, Ida, Triss, Keira Metz, and Margarita Laux Antille, each now unwaveringly loyal to their new master. He did not forget Ciri as well.
Ensconced within the opulent halls of Castle in Vizima Markus reveled in his dominance. The sorceresses, once architects of intricate political plots, now vied for his favor, their formidable wills subdued to his own. This indulgence provided Markus with a temporary reprieve from the galactic turmoil, allowing him to bask in the pleasures of control and the company of his enchanted courtiers.
Following Markus's interference to evacuate Civilians from Earth, Commander Shepard found himself aboard the Normandy. Following the plotline of Mass Effect 3, he was en route to the Mars Archives. The mission was clear: retrieve any information that could aid in the fight against the Reapers. Upon arrival, Shepard was reunited with Dr. Liara T'Soni, the esteemed Asari archaeologist.
As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the archive, the weight of recent events hung heavily between them. Liara's usually composed demeanor was tinged with an uncharacteristic sternness.
"Shepard," she began, her voice measured yet firm, "I've always respected your judgment, but recent actions have given me pause."
Shepard halted, turning to face her. "Liara, if this is about-"
She interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "Do you realize the magnitude of what Markus has done for my people? His strategies ensured the survival of billions of Asari. Yet, you've treated him with suspicion, even hostility."
He exhaled, searching for words. "I was trying to protect humanity, to make decisions I thought were right."
Liara's expression softened slightly, but her eyes held a glint of disappointment. "Intentions aside, the outcome speaks volumes. Perhaps it's time to reassess who our true allies are."
The conversation lingered in Shepard's mind as they continued their mission, the weight of Liara's words pressing heavily upon him.
Later, during the mission to extract the Turian Primarch from the chaos engulfing Palaven, Shepard was reunited with Garrus Vakarian amidst the ruins and relentless onslaught.
Taking cover behind a decimated wall, Garrus glanced at Shepard, his mandibles twitching. A Turian sign of contemplation.
"Shepard," Garrus remarked coolly, adjusting his sniper rifle, "I'm usually the first to back your play. But even I can't ignore your mishandling of Markus. His intervention single handedly safeguarded billions of Turians. Our battle here isn't for survival, we fight now only for pride, for honor. Thanks to him, our people endure."
Shepard's jaw tightened, feeling Garrus's subtle rebuke more keenly than overt anger. "Maybe you're right. I should have handled it better."
Garrus sighed lightly, glancing toward the shattered horizon. "I don't expect perfection, Shepard. But pragmatism? That would be appreciated, especially now."
The mission pressed on, but the conversation left an indelible mark on Shepard's conscience.
The culmination of these reflections came during the pivotal mission to cure the Genophage. On Tuchanka, amidst the arid wastelands, Shepard collaborated with Urdnot Wrex to escort the Krogan female and a Mordin Solus to the Shroud facility.
As they navigated treacherous terrain, Wrex's deep, guttural chuckle broke the silence. "Shepard, you're starting to remind me of a Varren that keeps chasing its own tail."
Shepard arched an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"
Wrex smirked, his massive frame exuding a mix of amusement and challenge. "Markus hands you a lifeline, and you keep biting the hand that feeds. It's almost... endearing."
Shepard sighed, the weight of accumulated reproaches bearing down on him. "I've made some errors, Wrex."
Wrex laughed outright, his voice deep and resonant. "Errors? That's one way to put it. Maybe you should finally learn from this one. Markus didn't just save humans, he gave the galaxy a fighting chance. Even a varren knows when to stop biting."
As the mission progressed, Wrex's words echoed relentlessly in Shepard's mind, urging reflection and reconsideration of past decisions.
Following the successful mission on Tuchanka, Commander Shepard's focus shifted to the looming threat posed by Cerberus's growing aggression. Reports indicated that Cerberus was planning a coup to seize control of the Citadel, the political and economic heart of the galaxy. Determined to thwart this attempt, Shepard and the Normandy crew set a course for the Citadel.
Upon arrival, Shepard was struck by an unexpected sight. The Citadel's corridors, usually bustling with diplomats and citizens, were now patrolled by formidable entities, summoned forces unmistakably linked to Markus. These beings, with their otherworldly presence, stood as sentinels against the Cerberus incursion. It became evident that either Councilor Tevos or Councilor Valern had sought Markus's aid in anticipation of the coup.
The battle was swift and decisive. Within twenty minutes, the summoned forces had decimated the Cerberus operatives, restoring order to the Citadel. As the dust settled, Shepard's gaze was drawn to the departing silhouette of the Raven, Markus's formidable vessel. A maelstrom of thoughts consumed Shepard's mind, contemplation on mending the strained relationship with Markus and finding a way to express his burgeoning gratitude.
With the Citadel secured, Shepard's next objective led him to the Quarian fleet, positioned near the enigmatic Perseus Veil. The Quarians, eager to reclaim their homeworld Rannoch from the Geth, proposed an alliance: their support for the construction of the Crucible in exchange for assistance in their campaign against the Geth. Recognizing the strategic advantage of the largest fleet in the galaxy, Shepard agreed.
The initial phase of the operation involved neutralizing a massive Geth dreadnought that was controlling the Geth forces and disrupting Quarian communications. Shepard led a daring infiltration mission aboard the dreadnought, successfully rescuing a captive Geth ally and disabling the Reaper control signal. This pivotal action weakened the Geth's coordination, leveling the playing field for the Quarians.
The campaign culminated in a direct assault on the Reaper base entrenched on Rannoch's surface. Shepard and his team penetrated the base's defenses, ultimately confronting and destroying a formidable Reaper destroyer. In the aftermath, Shepard faced a profound decision: to support either the Geth or the Quarians, or to broker a peace between the two factions. Leveraging his influence and the recent actions that had balanced the power dynamics, Shepard successfully negotiated a ceasefire. This unprecedented peace accord allowed both races to coexist on Rannoch, marking a significant step toward galactic unity against the Reaper threat.
Amidst these large scale operations, Shepard received intelligence about Cerberus activities on Eden Prime. Investigating further, Shepard uncovered a stasis pod containing a living Prothean. A soldier named Javik.
As the stasis pod hissed open, a figure emerged, a Prothean, the last of his kind. Commander Shepard extended a hand to steady him. Upon contact, a surge of memories flooded between them.
Javik's gaze sharpened as he processed the influx of information. His eyes narrowed, focusing intently on Shepard.
"Human," Javik began, his voice resonant and commanding, "your memories speak of, fear, anxiaty and one named Markus. He is... not of this galaxy, yet he claims to have witnessed the fall of my people. Explain."
Shepard exhaled slowly, organizing his thoughts.
"What do you mean my memories" asked Shepard reeled from the contact. After Javik explained the sensory ability of Prothean species, Shepard answered his question. "Markus appeared unexpectedly," Shepard explained. "He possesses abilities beyond our understanding and asserts that he's observed events spanning millennia, including the demise of the Protheans."
Javik's expression remained unreadable, but a flicker of something, concern or curiosity, passed over his features.
"This Markus," Javik continued, "he wields power unlike any seen in this cycle. Your memories reveal confrontations between him, your Systems Alliance, and yourself. Elaborate."
Shepard's jaw tightened as he recalled the tumultuous interactions.
"Our dealings with Markus have been... complex," Shepard admitted. "His interventions have saved countless lives, yet his methods and motives remain opaque. The Alliance sought to understand and, at times, control his influence. Those efforts often led to conflict."
Javik studied Shepard for a moment before speaking.
"Power of such magnitude rarely comes without cost," Javik observed. "And those who seek to harness it without comprehension often find themselves consumed."
Shepard met Javik's gaze, the weight of unspoken understanding passing between them.
"We need every advantage against the Reapers," Shepard stated. "But with Markus, the line between ally and adversary blurs."
Javik nodded slowly.
"In my cycle, we faced similar dilemmas," Javik revealed. "Beings of great power offering aid, their true intentions obscured. Proceed with caution, Commander. Not all saviors deliver salvation."
Shepard absorbed Javik's words, the gravity of their situation settling heavily upon him.
"Understood," Shepard affirmed. "We'll tread carefully."
Javik's gaze lingered on Shepard before he turned his attention to the broader mission ahead.
"Now," Javik declared, "let us focus on the battle at hand. The Reapers will not wait for us to unravel these mysteries."
Shepard nodded, the immediate threat of the Reapers pulling his thoughts back to the present.
"Agreed," Shepard said. "Welcome aboard, Javik."
Together, they stepped forward, united in purpose against the looming darkness.
In the ship's lounge, Shepard and Liara approached Javik, eager to learn more about his time.
"Commander Shepard, Dr. T'Soni," Javik acknowledged, his gaze intense and discerning.
"Javik," Shepard began, "we're trying to understand more about the Protheans. Liara here has dedicated her life to studying your people."
Liara nodded, her eyes reflecting both curiosity and reverence. "It's an honor to meet you, Javik. Your insights could revolutionize our understanding of galactic history."
Javik's expression remained stoic. "Understand this: the Prothean Empire was built on conquest and control. We ruled with an iron fist, uniting the galaxy under our dominion. Lesser species were... integrated or eliminated. There was no room for rebellion or weakness."
Liara's brow furrowed as she processed this revelation. "That's... quite different from the enlightened image we've pieced together from ruins and artifacts."
Javik let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. "History is written by the victors, or in your case, by those who sift through the ashes of the past. The truth is often less palatable."
A moment of contemplative silence settled between them. Then, Liara's eyes widened with recollection. "Markus mentioned something similar. He spoke of the Protheans not as benevolent guides, but as rulers who imposed order through dominance."
As the war effort intensified, Shepard received a summons from Councilor Tevos to the Citadel. The Asari, similar to Turians was only fighting to protect their homeworld, Thessia. Their matriarchs, civilans, scientists and even quarter of their army has already left Thessia according to Markus's strategies. Shepard moved to Thessia upon receiving counselor Tevos's hint about something in the main temple and asked assistance in retrieving the vital Prothean artifact that could provide crucial information about the Catalyst, a key component of the Crucible.
Determined to further the galaxy's chances against the Reapers, Shepard mobilized his team. The Normandy set course for Thessia, a planet now marred by conflict.
Upon descent, Shepard, accompanied by Garrus, Liara, and Javik, observed another vessel making its approach. The unmistakable silhouette of the Raven.