Chapter Text
“Done!” Rose announced cheerfully to her mother, who was bustling at the stove.
The girl closed her math book and got up from her chair.
“Can I go play now?” she asked hopefully.
“It’s already late, sweetheart. Time for bed,” her mother replied gently, pointing to the clock, which was nearing nine.
“Oh, okay then…” Rose muttered sulkily. She trudged out of the kitchen and went to the bathroom.
Once her evening routine was done, she returned to give her mother a tight hug.
“Good night, Mom.”
Sarah wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked her back.
“I love you, my precious girl,” she whispered softly.
Sarah was left alone in the kitchen. She was drying her hands on a dish towel when there was a knock at the door.
She froze.
It was nearly half past nine—no one should be visiting at this hour.
A vague sense of unease crept into her chest as she walked to the window and peeked outside.
A familiar figure stood at the door.
“Oscar? What on earth brings you here so late?” Sarah asked as she opened the door.
The man’s face was pale, his voice trembling.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m so sorry… Please forgive me.”
Sarah frowned in confusion.
“What are you—”
She never finished the sentence.
A sharp, burning pain tore through her chest from behind. Her breath caught.
She looked down — a sword blade had pierced her chest.
Blood roared in her ears.
“Why?” were her final, faltering words before the world went dark.
Rose’s eyes snapped open.
In the dream, her older brother had told her to wake up — but now she was no longer at home.
The girl was lying on a cold metal surface, surrounded by adults in white coats with their faces covered by masks.
She was breathing rapidly, her heart pounding.
“Hey! What the hell are you idiots doing? The brat’s awake!” one of the men shouted, his voice full of anger.
Rose flinched and tried to move, but her limbs wouldn’t respond properly.
“I don’t understand. The monitors show she should be in a deep sleep,” said another man standing by the anesthesia machine.
“Double the dose. She needs to go back under. She’s one of the last mutates we own,” the first man ordered coldly.
Rose saw one of the masked figures approaching her with a syringe in hand.
Behind him stood a group of armed men — weapons loaded and aimed straight at her.
“No… no… NO!” Rose screamed in desperation.
Her cry burst out like a clap of thunder — and in the same moment, a powerful blue shockwave erupted from her body, laced with crackling thunder.
**SR-1 Normandy was quiet.**
The low hum of the engines filled the corridor as Commander John Shepard walked with determined strides toward the command center.
He had just finished his round in the armory, but the walk was interrupted when a familiar, sarcastic voice crackled through the comms:
“Commander, you’ve got a call from upstairs. Hackett’s on the line. Looks like the old man’s in need of your charm once again.”
Shepard sighed quietly.
“On my way, Joker.”
He stepped into the comm room adjacent to the cockpit, where a blue hologram was already waiting.
Admiral Steven Hackett’s figure stood stiffly, hands behind his back. The look on his face spoke of bad news.
“Commander Shepard,” Hackett nodded. “We have a problem.”
“Where?”
“Ontarom. One of our research stations went dark about an hour ago. The last transmission was a distress signal — cut off mid-message.”
Shepard narrowed his eyes.
“Do we know the cause?”
“Not yet. The station was handling some kind of biological research. Nothing illegal, but… well, there was private sector involvement. We want to get ahead of this before it hits the press.”
“Is there a chance it was an attack?”
“We’re not ruling anything out. That’s why we need you. I’m sending the coordinates. Keep your eyes open and take a team. Stay under the radar if possible.”
“Understood. Normandy’s moving out.”
Hackett nodded once and vanished, leaving behind the blue glow of the comm room.
Shepard turned on his heel and stepped back into the corridor. He already saw the approaching duo — his twin sister Jane Shepard walked side by side with Garrus, who was checking over his sniper rifle.
“Hackett?” Jane asked bluntly.
“Research station on Ontarom. Lost contact, and we have no idea why. We’re going to find out.”
Garrus leaned forward slightly, his voice low.
“A research station gone silent… sounds like a trap.”
“That’s why we go in carefully.”
“Who’s coming?” Jane asked.
“You, Garrus, and Tali. Small team, but I trust you,” Shepard stated.
Tali appeared from around the corner just in time, her hood glowing softly in the light.
“I heard part of that. Station on Ontarom? I’m in.”
“Good.” Shepard nodded.
“Joker! Set a course for Ontarom. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”
When the Normandy landed on Ontarom’s grey, rocky surface, the air felt heavier than usual.
The research station was silent—too silent. The wind didn’t howl, but there was something… wrong in the air.
Shepard stepped out first, weapon ready. He was followed by Jane, Garrus, and Tali, who formed a semicircle behind him. The door was unlocked manually, the old metal mechanism creaking open.
As the door swung open, a sharp, metallic stench hit them. For a moment, they all stared at the sight before them—then Tali quickly covered her face.
“Oh Keelah…” she whispered.
The lobby floor was littered with dozens of bodies. They had remained mostly intact—or so it seemed at first. Many faces were twisted in a final moment of unbearable terror. The skin had blackened and cracked, the eyes left wide open. The walls were scorched, and the floor was dotted with melted patches of metal.
Garrus crouched carefully next to one of the bodies and poked it gently with his finger. The skin disintegrated instantly—and the entire body collapsed into ash.
“This… isn’t normal burning,” Garrus said in his gravelly voice.
“Something… evaporated their cells from the inside out.”
Jane swallowed hard and turned her gaze away. Shepard clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm.
“Tali, Garrus—check every computer, server, and recording. Salvage whatever you can.” Then he turned to his sister.
“Jane, scout the nearby area. But stay on comms at all times.”
“Got it, brother,” Jane replied quietly, glancing once more at a blackened face before disappearing into a side corridor.
Shepard turned his gaze toward the darker part of the hall. He looked once at his team—everyone was already working, though the atmosphere felt like a coffin. He nodded to himself and headed in the opposite direction, weapon at the ready.
Darkness swallowed his figure as he walked toward whatever still waited in the station’s depths. The corridor was dim and quiet. Only the faint light from his weapon’s barrel and the occasional flicker of emergency lighting showed the way. Shepard moved forward cautiously, eyes scanning every shadow.
The scent of burned flesh still lingered, even though he was far from the main hall. The walls bore dark marks, as if they had been struck by electricity hundreds of times. Equipment was melted in place, and metal surfaces were warped from heat.
Then he stopped.
A sound.
At first, he thought it was just the wind or a vent groaning—everything here sounded strange, echoes distorted. But when he turned his head toward the noise, he heard it again.
A quiet, jerky, almost animal-like sound.
Crying.
Shepard froze. He held his breath and listened. The sound came from farther down the corridor. Now it was clear—a soft sobbing, like a child’s.
“This is Shepard,” he said in a low voice over the radio. “I hear someone… sounds like a child. Proceeding to investigate.”
No response. The line crackled faintly, but no one answered.
Shepard glanced around, gripped his weapon tighter, and slowly moved toward the sound. With each step, the crying grew louder. It was no longer vague—someone was weeping. A child. The sound led him to a laboratory door. He opened it slowly, weapon raised, but the room appeared empty. No movement, no one in sight.
He stepped inside and stood still.
Somewhere nearby, maybe behind a table or equipment crate, came soft, shallow breathing. Someone in hiding was trying to be quiet—but panic made their breaths rapid.
“Hey…” Shepard said gently. “I know you’re there. You can come out. I can help.”
No response. The breathing continued.
“My name is John Shepard. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re lying!” came a small, trembling voice from the shadows. “Y-you look just like the bad people. They had armor too. They… they pointed guns at me!”
Shepard sighed quietly. He glanced at his own armor—dark blue, marked with N7. To a child, it probably all looked the same.
“My suit’s a different color. I’m not one of them.”
“But you still look scary. You must be with them!” The child’s voice was filled with fear.
Shepard hesitated a moment. Then he decided to do something that felt strange to him—but maybe it was the only right move. He stepped to the center of the room, took off his helmet, carefully set his weapon down on the floor, and pushed it away with his foot. He did the same with his sidearm. He placed his helmet beside him.
“Now I have no weapons. I can’t hurt anyone. I just want to talk.” Shepard smiled gently.
He slowly knelt down and reached out his hand toward the shadows.
“It’s okay now. I promise. You’re safe,” he said softly.
There was a pause. Then came the sound of quick footsteps.
A small, ragged child burst out from hiding and threw herself into Shepard’s arms. He gasped in surprise but caught her gently. He stood up slowly, the girl—maybe seven or eight years old—clinging tightly to him. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed quietly.
“Shepard here,” he said over the radio. “I found a survivor. A child. Looks like she saw everything. We need evac and medical support.”
The line crackled for a moment. Then Jane’s voice replied:
“Copy that. We’ll bring her with us.”
Shepard looked down at the child resting in his arms and held her a little tighter. He didn’t yet know what had happened at this facility—but this little one was now his responsibility.
Shepard stepped back out of the laboratory, the child in his arms, and walked toward the front door. Jane was already waiting there, her eyes questioning.
“I didn’t find anyone,” his sister said quietly.
Jane’s gaze immediately locked onto the child. Shepard nodded.
“Take off your helmet,” he instructed.
Jane raised an eyebrow but obeyed. As the helmet clicked off and she revealed her face, the child’s small body tensed even more. Shepard felt her press herself tighter against him.
Jane stepped slowly beside him and spoke gently:
“Hey, sweetheart. My name is Jane, and I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”
A moment of silence. Then a small, trembling voice whispered:
“Rose.”
Shepard exchanged a glance with Jane — both wore the same serious but gentle expression — when their wrist comms crackled to life.
“Shepard? Jane? We don’t have much — but maybe something. Come here,” Garrus said.
They headed into the computer room. Garrus and Tali were standing by the wall panels, looking frustrated. The air still smelled of burnt circuits and melted wiring.
“We downloaded everything we could, but most of the data’s corrupted. We haven’t—” Tali began.
But then the air was pierced by the child’s shriek.
“MONSTERS!”
Shepard flinched, Jane startled. Rose pointed toward Garrus and Tali, eyes wide with fear.
Garrus spun instantly, hand on his weapon.
“Where?”
Tali glanced quickly behind her but saw only emptiness. Her gaze slowly dropped to the child — and then she understood. Rose wasn’t pointing at something behind them. She meant *them*.
“Shepard…” Tali said quietly.
Rose sobbed and clung to Shepard like a drowning child to a life preserver. Shepard felt the familiar hum of biotics through his arm. The girl’s skin felt hot to the touch. He quickly pressed a hand to her forehead — burning like molten metal.
“She’s burning up,” Shepard said tensely.
At that moment, Rose went limp in his arms.
“Normandy, this is Shepard!” he said urgently into his comm. “We’ve got a surviving child. She’s unconscious and her body temperature is dangerously high. We need evac — now!”