Chapter Text
The smell of burning vegetation marries with the noxious fumes of machinery to inflame Shepard’s throat. She coughs violently, and Garrus puts a hand on her back to comfort her.
She’s brought back to that day on Mindoir: unfurling from the cupboard, only to see the fields and the outbuildings burning, the fuel cells erupting into fifty foot flames, her family’s legacy vanishing with it all. How many will lose everything today? How many will survive?
James signals toward an oncoming wave of banshees and marauders. Shepard is frozen in place.
“Circe, we need to move!” Garrus urges her along.