# Rebirth The Mass Effect is old. part 22

Аноним Nytare

Return to the ship and work with Benezia's mind. Sleep and talk with the Turians.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, interrupting my heavy thoughts and bringing me back to the real world. I tore my gaze away from the sleeping Benezia and squinted at a wide palm with long, strong fingers ending in massive claws.

"Something happened?"

The hand disappeared, and its owner appeared in the field of view, sitting on the edge of the laboratory table.

"You tell me." Nihlus said calmly and held out a warm food container.

Did he bring me food? To the infirmary?

"Karin will be against it."

"No, it won't." a slight grin: slightly spread mandibles, a sly look. "Dr. Chakwas found me not long ago and ordered me to take you away from your work and feed you. Even forcibly. And send him to sleep."

And there's an abyss of irony in his eyes.

"Did she actually order it?" I looked skeptically at the pleased face. "And you agreed to obey her?"

"You know how angry our doctor is. Her sincere concern for the health of the sentients on this ship is close to... fanaticism. It's completely useless to argue with her. And it's pointless."

"Oh, how!" I was surprised.

Wow! Nihlus recognized the doctor's power over himself! Even in the field of health.

"At first, she wanted to catch Garrus, but Vakarian lay under the Mako, and she couldn't get him out. He pretends to be busy with repairs."

"Kicked off?"

"Rather, he just fell asleep and ignored all attempts to reach his common sense and sense of responsibility. He was wearing headphones, so the doctor's screams went down the drain. He just didn't hear her." Nihlus chuckled. "Rex technically shifted the scope to me and dumped me in the arsenal."

"Did you agree?"

The Turian cocked his head like a bird.

"Rin, she's right. You locked yourself in the infirmary as soon as you finished resettling the Asari and gave orders to the Joker and the XO. It's been almost five hours. You've been up for more than a day and haven't eaten since you landed on Noveria. Dr. Karin has reason to be furious."

"Is she furious?"

"If she were a warrior, I would say... in the pre-fight." Nihlus chuckled. "And so... She's just mad. She still couldn't bring you out of your trance, and I advised you not to disturb her. So eat up. As far as I understand, the doctor will come to check."

I didn't argue. I really wanted to eat, but a prolonged mind scan did not add to my cheerfulness. Knowing Karin, I can easily believe in her warning. He'll come and check it out! And God forbid if I find myself hungry at the time of this check. It will hit both me and Nihlus. To me, for having ignored the needs of the body upon returning from the mission, and to Nihlus for not following up. It can ricochet into everything else. Karin is VERY responsible about her duties! Her recommendations often sound like a direct and uncompromising order. As far as I remember, even Captain Anderson did not dare to argue with the doctor about the health of her patients.

After unpacking the box, I started eating. Interestingly, the container, divided into two parts, contained both types of food, and if the usual food contained some vegetables, then dextro can be described in one word: meat!

"Our chef definitely works wonders!"

Nihlus chuckled.

I was already touched. No, seriously! Wow, he remembered! And then I spoke as a joke, albeit truthfully.

The doors of the infirmary swung open noiselessly. Karin looked closely at me, who was chewing, and nodded benevolently to Nihlus, who bowed his head questioningly.

"Irene! You should be in your cabin and asleep in an hour!"

"I understood, I got into it, I'll improve!"

Karin skeptically examined my face and honest-honest eyes, shook her head, slightly pursing her lips. She didn't believe it.

"The Nihlus spectr. I hope for your prudence and responsibility."

"I'll make sure."

Karin retired to her cabin. The Iron Lady!

A spectr device, already familiar to me, landed on the laboratory table, jamming wiretaps and unnecessary prying eyes.

"What can you say about the matriarch's condition?"

"A lot of things. But maybe only in obscenities. Literary language is not able to describe what I saw. I'm afraid your mentor's mind will be even more in danger... in a deplorable state." I took a bite of the funny purple colored meat.

"But seriously?"

"Partial substitution of associative bindings and strict rough control for complete suppression. The Reaper didn't aim to subdue her gently. The invasion and capture happened quickly and not too neatly."

"How long will it take to fix all this?"

"In an amicable way, it's at least a decade. But I will try to remove the most critical before arriving at the Citadel. Bookmarks, anchor bindings, drill and mental channel. The violation of associative connections will have to be abandoned. Or edit it another time. I've finished the full scan, and I need to start removing the bindings. It will be just ten or twelve hours for the rest of the mind."

"Will it take a long time?"

"Not really. If you want, I can show you how it happens."

I've noticed more than once that Nihlus has VERY expressive eyes when he wants to! That's how it is now. I finished my meal quickly, closed the container, and put it away. I have about an hour until Karin's deadline passes. And we'd better get out of the infirmary by then!

A simple mental command brought Lady Benezia out of her sleep, transferring it to a light form of trance, so convenient for work.

"It's not worth working with a sleeping reasonable. This requires a lot of effort and attention: consciousness is turned off, the personality is in contact with the upper level of the subconscious and may briefly immerse itself in the realm of instincts. Protecting the core of the personality and mind is one of the basic instincts of a reasonable person, and he can easily react to the slightest careless action. The result will be unpredictable, up to and including physical aggression. Believe me, based on naked instincts and reflexes, without mind control, the body can work wonders. Quite... scary miracles."

Nihlus nodded slowly.

"How dangerous is it?"

"Extremely dangerous. I know an example of how this instinct works. The result is forty corpses of varying degrees of dismemberment, partial metamorphosis of the body, removal of blocks from the area of genetic memory, and an intelligent predator. Consciousness turned on only three days later, when ALL reasonable people left the complex. And it was just a human teenager! A fifteen-year-old girl."

Nihlus did not complain about imagination and fantasy, and he was able to imagine such a thing without much trouble. His expressive face stretched out, his mandibles twitched nervously and pressed against his cheeks.

"Dangerous."

"Yes. But the waking mind gives unnecessary interference, complicates work, bookmarks and bindings can work if the patient is ill... well, or the victim will feel something. To avoid both extremes, a mental trance based on oneiroid catatonia and amentia has been developed. The victim is awake, but not in contact with reality. When coming out of a trance, all hallucinations are erased from memory. Lady Benezia is in a trance right now."

Nihlus nodded slowly.

"How can you show me your work if I'm not a mentalist?"

"Diving through my consciousness. This method is used to train mentalists under the supervision of a mentor. Look into my eyes. "I met his gaze, easily penetrating his mind." * Don't resist. Now I'm going to pull you into the outer region of my consciousness through a mental channel.*

Interestingly, the Turian really didn't resist, even though I saw his fingers tighten on the edge of the table. I turned my gaze to my victim, and lo and behold, we penetrated the mind of the matriarch. Nihlus didn't understand much about mental projection, but even he was moved by what he saw. I use imaginative visual perception, and the mental drill looked like a creepy spiked tentacle from the outside.

* What you see is an imaginative perception, recreated in a form that is convenient for me. Every mentalist creates a comfortable environment for him. Some people generally use non-visual modeling: music, smells, sensations of touch. Which is convenient for whom.*

* What kind of dirty trick is this?* Nihlus' attention pointed to the dipstick.

* A mental drill. Rough, but powerful. Such trash independently makes its way to the core of the personality and changes it. Or destroys it.*

* Did he go deep?*

The image changed when I shifted the point of perception.

* Reached the last veil.*

* What needs to be done?*

* Pay attention to the thin dark strands coming from the drill. You can't touch the drill itself until all bindings are removed, otherwise, Chaos alone knows how and what will work when it is removed.* I brought the largest and strongest weight closer. * This is anchoring. I'm going to shoot her first and right now.*

*What is an Anchor?*

* The key image that invasion and coercion are tied to. In our case, the collective one is Saren.* The film disintegrated into a series of images of the above-mentioned intelligent in VERY interesting variations. * Of all the variety, this and this look are real. Everything else is a phantom. The image is attached to the associative link: lord-Saren-Soveren. The middle links can ALWAYS be omitted or changed. The first and last states are firmly fixed. Take away the excess, and you will get *lord Sovereyn* - the true Anchor, but the tap goes to Saren. If you remove or break this bookmark, all the negativity will be transferred to it.*

* How to remove it?*

* Look.*

Anchoring is removed in several stages. I was the first to change Saren's Name to Nazara, which untied the vast majority of bookmarks from the Anchor. The Reaper made a very common mistake: he was not anchoring to the Anchor's Condition, but to its Image. On Saren Arterius. It's much easier and doesn't require any hard work. The name always evokes associations and draws an Image with it. Change the Name, and you change the Image without touching it directly or causing aggression from the defense. The substitution was easy: I built additional connections: Sovereyn of Nazara-* Sovereyn *-Ship-affiliation-Saren, pulling on suitable memories and concepts from the victim's mind. So they do not cause rejection, because they are not foreign. Based on this associative chain, Nazara name was tied to the Anchor, and then replaced at the point of conjugation when I shifted the emphasis. As a result, the Anchor was now attached to the associative link *lord-Nazara-Sovereyn*, which was NOT a lie: Nazara is the Sovereyn, and therefore did not cause a conflict in the control points that monitor the integrity of the bookmark. Then it was easier. After removing the attachment to Saren, I disbanded the associations based on Benezia's own knowledge, easily CONVINCING her mind that the Sovereyn of Nazara is a sentient being, and *the Sovereyn* is a ship, albeit an extremely strange one. In other words, DIFFERENT images. The Anchor, stripped of its anchors, disintegrated on its own.

* That's something like that.*

I took us out of the matriarch's mind and severed contact. Nihlus twitched, blinked, regaining control of his body, Benezia lay back on the bed, her trance smoothly turned into a dream.

"You can do that..." Nihlus waved his hand vaguely, "convince of anything."

"May. There would be time and desire." I shrugged, rubbing my sore temples with my fingers. As you can see, a well-composed cutting of true images and facts allows you to create false associative connections. You haven't seen how you can distort memories and twist the semantic component. It's totally creepy out there."

"How much time and effort will it take to bring you to this state?"

"For about a decade with constant exposure under ideal conditions: the victim does not resist, and no one distracts. Otherwise, it will take about a month."

"How long will it take to get it all off?"

"The same amount. Maybe more. If the bookmarks have an integrity monitoring system and protection, you have to remove them very carefully so as not to disturb the control points. The matriarch has one, albeit a rather primitive one."

"Somehow, the concept of *primitive* doesn't really fit the Reaper's actions." Nihlus said with some skepticism.

"I suppose Reapers are natural mentalists. Or were created from them. But! The impact is rough and quite careless. The bookmarks are too clearly positioned, and the protection is too conditional. It seems that the Lord of probability does not even allow that someone else can interfere with the mind of his victim."

"Why such conclusions?"

"Usually, experienced mentalists hide their creativity well, disguising it as natural formations and the influence of the subconscious. The protection is aggressive and multi-layered. And here..." I spread my hands. "Everything is in plain sight. There's not even an attempt to cover it up."

"How much can you hide?"

"I have seen the master's work: the mind is almost completely reprogrammed, everything that is possible is in bookmarks, and externally there is not a single trace of influence."

"What's your opinion?"

"There are only two explanations: lack of knowledge and negligence. I don't believe in the first one. Bookmarks are set correctly. Negligence? Maybe. The Reaper simply has no reason to hide the impact. It's not that I haven't seen mentalists here, but I haven't even met a banal empath!"

"What is the reason?"

"It's hard to say what exactly caused it. But all these are consequences of the degradation of natural protection." Seeing the misunderstanding in the green eyes, I explained." When a child is born, his mind is practically nonexistent, his body is governed by instincts. The core of the personality is open, the soul is weak. That is why in the developed magical worlds a child's name is given ONLY after three months of life, when the soul is finally fixed in the body and the first Veil appears around the core. Gradually, with the growth of the child and the development of the mind, the natural defense unfolds and finally strengthens towards puberty. At the same time, the formation of the basis of personality ends. As they grow older, the protection strengthens, and the development of the so-called "zone of influence" begins, tied to the aura. The aura is larger in size than the physical body, sometimes significantly so. This is exactly what is called *personal space*. Everyone has their own opinion. Everything that falls within the boundaries of the aura can be affected by its owner. And that's when empathy can manifest itself. A reasonable person begins to feel other people's emotions. Weakly at first. Then..." I grimaced. "Then you have to learn how to close. After showing empathy, it quickly grows stronger and begins to develop into mentalism. At the same time, active or combat shields are raised. That's to explain... roughly and simplistically.

Nihlus listened very attentively, his emotions were thoughtful, surprised, and somewhat confused.

"I'm starting to feel other people's emotions."

"I know."

"Is this the result of restoring protection?"

"Rather, it is a consequence." I shrugged my shoulders. "As soon as your natural shield is strengthened, then the normal development of the aura has already begun. Not surprisingly, empathy has emerged. You are unlikely to become a mentalist without forced development - time is lost, but intuition and empathy will develop."

"Could such a *degradation of protection* have occurred naturally?"

"I have no idea. This is an embodied reality, and they can be anything and everything! The only thing that is never violated and under no circumstances is the basic laws of our Order. And don't confuse them with the laws of physics!"

The Turian blinked in surprise.

"Sounds... Somehow... not very encouraging."

I spread my hands.

"As it is. Or would you rather hear a beautiful fairy tale?"

"No. I prefer the truth. Even... so much... An interesting one."

The conversation somehow faded by itself. Nihlus pondered my words, periodically flaring up with emotions, and looked at me strangely. I turned down the aura, dimming the sensitivity. Mentalists understand and value personal space and trust more than anyone else.

Nihlus turned off the jammer, put it in his pocket and silently extended his hand to me, inviting me to stand up. I did not refuse to help: I was visibly unsteady, and my strength was running out. Mental impact is not given just like that, devouring vital energy, just like any other job. Only an uneducated, intelligent person can think that using the mentalist's gift does not take its toll. Any impact requires the application of some kind of force spent on it. It wouldn't surprise anyone if a man who spent three hours uprooting stumps and pulling out weeds in an overgrown field got tired. But for some reason, they are so sincerely surprised when a mentalist or a mind magician, who has been uprooting an analog of weeds from the patient's mind for the same three hours, gets tired in the same way...

Nihlus took me to my cabin and left, simply advising me to get a good night's sleep and not get up at first light. The ship is traveling through a tunnel between relays, and nothing will happen to it, or even if it does... it will be too late to worry: in such accidents, no one has ever returned. Reassured, however... I only had the strength to quickly rinse myself off and collapse across the bed. My consciousness simply turned off as soon as I slowed down on a soft horizontal surface.


Interestingly, I woke up in a normal position: with my head on a pillow and neatly covered with a blanket. On the bedside table there is a bottle of water and pills with a mild stimulant.

Who's so caring? I peered at the residual trace of aura on the bottle and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Garrus. In principle, why am I surprised? The crew is eliminated by default. Our relationship with the XO is restrained and distant, and we communicate exclusively on issues related to the ship and crew. Jeff is barely able to walk to his cabin. Karin would rather send someone without leaving the infirmary. Liara and Tali? Extremely doubtful. Kayden? He wouldn't risk it, even if the thought occurred to him. That thought would never come to Ashley. Rex? Oh yeah... That's exactly the case... Rather, it will drip on the other's brains. And I even know a potential greben victim. That leaves the Turians. Nihlus most likely went straight to bed, but Garrus, having overslept under *Mako*, could well be curious. Karin, for example, gets up early. Our good doctor could easily have hinted... well, or just directly tell the guy your * fe* in an extremely polite way ... moreover, in a way that you can't say obscenities. Especially for the ignored attempt to reach out to his sense of responsibility and prudence. Garrus is caring and responsible, and already considers me a friend, so he could have gone and checked on me. It's nice when someone cares just like that, of their own volition, and not out of mercantile interest or out of necessity...

Speaking of Garrus...


The Turian was in the dining room. Garrus was deep in thought and barely noticed his surroundings, absently pushing a piece of meat around his plate with a fork and hypnotizing the half-eaten food. Today, for the first time on board the Normandy, he changed into civilian clothes: tight trousers made of thick black fabric, boots with magnetic soles that I already know, and a dark blue tank top T-shirt. His right shoulder is bandaged, and there is a piece of plaster on his neck under his jaw, hiding a chemical burn from the rachni toxin. There is a strange dull melancholy and despondency in the emotions. Why is he in such a positive mood this morning?

I picked up the tray and went to the counter. The smiling chef generously poured me a delicious-looking portion, and was not at all surprised when I stole a Turian drink from the counter. Apparently, he has already learned about the peculiarities of his captain. Thanking the chef, who was blazing with gratitude, I sat down at the table with Garrus. He only noticed me when I waved my hand in front of his face. The absent look perked up, the guy cheered up, although a slight apprehension remained. M-mm... is he waiting to be scolded for arbitrariness regarding my carcass? No need, I appreciate the concern.

"Thank you." smiling, she added: "I appreciated it."

Garrus blinked in surprise, looked at me strangely, and relaxed.

"Have a nice day, Rin."

"Did Karin swear too much?"

Irony flashed in his bright blue eyes.

"How to say it. I learned a lot of interesting things about myself." The irony became clearer. "Especially for ignoring her, sleeping rough with a wound, and not coming to the infirmary right after returning to the ship."

"I guess it's been the most difficult lately."

The Turian shrugged, mandibles twitching slightly.

"The wound is through, clean. I don't see any point in staying in the infirmary."

"How did you escape?"

The Turian looked slightly embarrassed.

"I said I wanted to go and check on your condition. I was mercifully released with pills and an order to report for a dressing in the morning. Garrus shook his head. - Dr. Karin does not accept any explanations and excuses when it comes to health?"

"No. It is more profitable to surrender voluntarily. There will be less later... sanctions."

"A stern woman."

The conversation turned to light and non-stressful topics. I ate, and Garrus stopped playing with the food and took the plates to the sink. I didn't want to go anywhere. The dining room was quiet and peaceful.

A leisurely conversation about nothing gradually turned to our mission.

"Is there any information about Saren's whereabouts?"

"Yes. We'll take a look at the Citadel, report to the Council, replenish supplies, and set off. Nihlus promised to scare the Special Corps about new weapons. I'm a beginner, they won't let me into arsenals with really worthwhile weapons. And they are not located in the C-Sec, but in closed sectors. So think about what you'd like to get while you still have the opportunity."

Garrus nodded slowly.

"Will the whole group disembark?"

"No"

"The reason?"

I rested my chin on my clasped hands, staring intently at the face of the Turian sitting across from me. Reason. What an interesting question...

"Lack of protection on the mind. I can't take anyone with me who might fall victim to the Reaper. I need Tali as a technician, but I can cover for her. Or knock it out."

"Who's going with you?"

"Nihlus. And maybe... you."

"Is it possible?" Displeasure and interest flashed in his bright blue eyes.

"It all depends on your decision."

"Walking together is suicide. I don't consider Tali as a full-fledged fighter. She's too vulnerable." Garrus sighed. "As I understand it, the penetration should be stealthy?"

"Yeas."

"That means three or four fighters. What do I need to do?"

"Required? Nothing. I need your voluntary and informed permission."

"Do the same as for Nihlus?" Garrus cocked his head to the side. "Put protection on the mind?"

"Yeas."

"Rin, why do you think I'll be against it?" misunderstanding and... annoyance, tinged with resentment, were clearly heard in the vibrating voice.

That's it... I didn't want him to be offended.

"Garrus, you have no idea what I'm going to do."

"Why is that? I can imagine." understanding flashed in the blue eyes, and the resentment disappeared into a trace of light irony. "Nihlus told me."

"When?"

"The next morning." Garrus shook his head. "He said it without really giving any information. For all the answers, come to you." I leaned back in my chair, frowning into those piercing blue eyes. Nihlus, in principle, did the right thing. But now I have to answer some questions. We just need to decide which ones.

"Let's go to the cabin. There is no need to talk about such things here. Is Nihlus up yet?"

"Yeas."


Nihlus was really awake: the Turian was half-sitting on a cot, leaning back against the wall, and reading something from a datapad, with his long legs thrown over the back of a chair, carefully placed in a convenient place. He greeted our arrival without surprise, just greeted me with a nod and put down the datapad.

"Colleague. Be so kind and turn on your toy." I grumbled, taking the chair away.

Nihlus sat down, pulled the pyramid of the jammer out of his pocket, put it on the table and turned it on.

"Is it time to talk?" he asked.

"Yes. Although I'm not sure if Garrus really WANTS to know all this."

"I can tell he doesn't want to." Nihlus chuckled. "Information... What did you say? Enchanting."

Garrus sat on his bunk, waiting patiently while I gathered my thoughts and figured out what I could tell him without putting him in harm's way.

"I got into this reality about a month ago, two days before landing on Eden Prime." I began. Garrus jerked up, surprise flashing brightly. "Time after time, after death, I am reborn in the embodied reality of a key figure, sending her soul into the general Circle of Rebirth with decent compensation, which guarantees a happy birth in a stable reality. This time, I hit Commander Shepard. You've never met my recipient, and you wouldn't really like her. Nihlus had the good fortune to meet her before my arrival. Shepard is a more cruel and calculating version of Ashley, slightly more tolerant of outsiders."

Nihlus grimaced.

"We couldn't have worked together."

I chuckled ironically.

"Have you forgotten anything?"

Nihlus sighed, squinted at me, waved me away.

"I remember I was supposed to die on Eden Prime."

Garrus stared at his kinsman in disbelief.

"Should you have?"

Nihlus grimaced and nodded.

"Even though I was warned, I was mortally wounded."

"This is the peculiarity of embodied reality. Her story has ALREADY been written out and is quite static. The so-called *canon*. There are major nodal points that CANNOT be changed no matter how hard you try. There are events that can be changed, even if it is difficult. Nihlus' death was one such event. By all the rules of this reality, he should have died at the spaceport on Eden Prime from being shot in the back of the head by his beloved mentor. I knew about it, and I managed to change the predetermined course of history. With difficulty: reality resists, and instead of a fatal shot to the head, Nihlus caught a fatal one in the chest. Something else is worse. The inhabitants of this reality cannot go against its laws. Only the one who comes from the outside."

"How are you?"

"Like me. It's a kind of symbiosis: reality gets a chance for survival and development, and I get a new one... An interesting life," Then Nihlus couldn't stand it and laughed softly, but I ignored him. "And the opportunity to develop. This is my job. To disrupt the chain of events and push reality out of the rut of the canon. If this is not done, by the end of the story, reality will lose its nourishment from the egregore that gave rise to it and collapse. A dry Branch. There are countless such dead Branches. Not everyone gets people like me: there are a lot of rebirths, but not enough to cover the ENTIRE Probability Tree. Not everyone copes with their task and perishes along with reality. I came at a good moment and was able to make the first change: saved Nihlus' life. The more such changes accumulate, the easier and more flexible the reality will be. I can't tell you what I know. If Nihlus is dead to this universe and free of his destiny, having fulfilled it in full, then you are not yet. There will be countless accidents and accidents, but in any case, you will find yourself in the right situation. I've already seen it happen.

"Is this the reason why Nihlus was officially dead at the time of the investigation into Saren's betrayal?" Garrus asked, staring intently at my face.

He's smart. I immediately realized where and how I had covered up Nihlus.

"Before I received Spectr status, yes. This is the final event of the chain that began on Eden Prime. All the necessary conditions have been fulfilled."

"What would have happened if the truth had come out sooner?"

"Nihlus wouldn't have lived an hour. Anything from short-circuited equipment, a xenophobic attack from one of the crew, a heart failure, a Normandy explosion, a meteorite fall, or a ram from a ship that suddenly lost control. I have seen completely impossible and idiotic accidents, such as a wooden box falling out of an airplane flying overhead, which deliberately crashed on the victim's head and pierced through ten floors. It seems funny, as long as it doesn't concern the one you're trying to save."

Garrus was dejectedly silent, digesting my words. Did he believe me? I believed it. Nihlus, who agreed with me, was a good confirmation of the crazy words.

"What needs to be done?" he finally asked.

"Save civilization without resorting to a very dubious canonical method. Or ruin her. Both options guarantee the survival of reality, but in the second case..." I spread my hands.

"The second option in case the first one fails?" Garrus chuckled.

"Right. And it's enough for me to just DO NOTHING."

The blue-eyed Turian rubbed his comb thoughtfully and asked an extremely interesting question:

"How can I help if my actions are harsh... Are they predestined?"

"First of all, not actions, but just two events."

"One of them is our meeting in front of the Council Chamber, and the second... the second one will be after the invariable key point, it will also give you the opportunity to get you out from under the chain of events. But not now. You're lucky you're not a key figure in history like Saren. Our flight to Vermier is the third Change that I plan to push through. The second was the rescue of Benezia. She should have died too."

"The third is Saren's rescue?"

"Yes. The chances are slim. Even worse than Nihlus. Saren doesn't have a single gap at all, and he ends up dead by my hand or his own. But there is still a chance. We will arrive BEFORE we have to, there will be no assault, the chain of events has been disrupted from the very beginning. A small group will go. We'll fly to Feros later. A Thorian can be killed at any moment, he is not particularly valuable."

The Turin man cupped his face in his hands and muttered dully:

"Why do I believe you?"

Nihlus and I exchanged glances.

"You tell us."

"It's so crazy that it could be true." The confused ligth blue eyes looked somehow lost, but at the same time, stubbornness was growing stronger somewhere in the depths. "Such lies are meaningless."

"An interesting thought."

Garrus snorted.

"Does it make sense to ask where accurate knowledge of history comes from?"

"No." The blue eyes narrowed. "Not yet." I corrected myself.

Garrus nodded slowly, accepting my decision, but he looked hard. He won't forget, and sooner or later, he'll shake out the truth. Meanwhile, Nihlus, who was lazily listening to our conversation, pulled the chair closer to him with a sudden jerk. I was taken aback by this turn of events. What is he going to do?

"Rin, please explain one thing to me..."

The soft, vibrating voice with a barely audible rumble made my hair stand on end all over my body.

"What moment?" I asked cautiously, looking into unexpectedly angry green eyes.

"What were you thinking when you exposed your head to the rays of a ghost? One finger to the right, and what did you say? Hello, a new rebirth?"

"Op-pa... And what can I say? It's pointless to make excuses, he won't understand. To say that I'm kind of a Spectrum too, and it's only natural that I might get hit... It's also pointless. He knows that very well himself. And he's right about something. I really shouldn't have put my HEAD up. Remind HIM that HE can change reality now, too? If I say anything, the usually calm Nihlus will just strangle me. By himself, so that it wouldn't hurt if they shot the idiot. Thoughts about this were VERY clearly floating in the upper layers of my mind, and what scared me the most was that completely similar ideas, only in a different interpretation, were running around in Garrus' head.

I just spread my hands. She turned and met Garrus' gaze. Exactly the same expression. Complete solidarity! Did they conspire? I looked at Nihlus. The same displeased expression on his face, eyes narrowed, looks hard and intently.

"I remember what you said about enhanced regeneration, Rin. As well as the fact that guaranteed death is either the loss of the head or the destruction of the body. In other cases, there is a chance to survive. And the very next day, you expose your head to Geth's shots. Knowing WHAT's at stake. Knowing..."

Oh my... Her voice is trembling with rage. Garrus's lingering anger is at the back. At the same time, the rays flew over the ridge, but that's okay, it's normal...

I had no idea that the usually calm and reasonable Nihlus could SO inventively devour a brain from scratch! And Garrus also helped.

I listened in silence, without objecting a single word or even trying to cut into this monologue in two voices. Yes, they talked about duty, about mission, about saving civilization, about fighting the Reapers, and other kind of right things, but... the real reason was much simpler and more natural. I wasn't listening to the words. It's just a shell for feelings and emotions, from which the mental was bubbling. All the objections or the desire to somehow justify themselves or shut up these two in any other way crumbled under a single feeling that pushed them to do so... violent display of emotions. An ordinary and completely banal fear. Fear of loss.