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Chapter 32.1: Saren Arterius
The flesh bubbled and flowed, swelled in waves under the brown skin and took the shape I needed, the old scars dissolved, the muscles grew on the bones, and gradually the arm took on the appearance that it was supposed to have by nature. The twisted chitinous plates on his chest crumbled to re-strengthen in a new form... I was doing something that was poetically called "body plastic," but it looked disgusting and sometimes downright creepy.
Plastic surgery is not only and not so much a treatment. Rather, it is modeling and restoration. One of the basic features of the metamorph. Now, due to the large amount of my blood in Saren's body, I could take control of his body by connecting to the nervous and neuroendocrine system. I unfolded the aura, stretching the inner layers onto the Turian, connecting not only to his body, but also to the aura, which was torn and exhausted by the Sovereign. In fact, I was now a kind of symbiont, and Saren was an extension of my body, since I connected physically: through ingrown arms.
The recovery was coming to its logical conclusion, and now I was finishing work on the hand that had grown in five days. I have about two more days to bring Saren back to normal. Small things can be treated later, as well as strengthen bones and muscles.
Rex was watching my work. He came on the second day and got a lot of pleasure from the spectacle: I had not heard such matyugs and highly artistic comparisons for a very long time. However, the first stupor quickly passed, and then he watched with interest, sometimes asking questions and even giving advice. He knew the anatomy of Turians perfectly well: he had cut a lot of them in his time.
"That's it! Ready!" I slowly raised my arms, disconnecting from the body. "Now it's just a matter of strengthening my body and making sure nothing gets out while my blood is processed and assimilated."
"Could there be overlays?"
"Can." I agreed with a shrug. "I had to increase the mutagenic properties of the blood, but the control was gone."
"Isn't it dangerous?"
"No. My body is already adapted to Turian biochemistry, so there will be no conflicts based on incompatibility. When changing the blood, I took Saren's DNA directly as a basis and adjusted it to the characteristics of his body, so there would be no negative consequences. But something good may come up. In fact, any analysis will show me as his half-sister for another four days. Then I will return to the natural state of my chosen appearance."
"I've already told you: amazing possibilities."
"A true metamorph is the pinnacle of the evolution of an organic being." I shrugged my shoulders. "Then there is a transition into a purely energetic form with the possibility of acquiring materiality."
"Have you ever met such people?"
"Yes, I was lucky." I grimaced. "All this wealth is tied not to the body, but to the soul and the aura generated by it. It is not for nothing that almost all religions say that the soul is primary." I met the Krogan's sharp gaze. "That's why I cannot accept and forgive those who ruin their souls for the sake of questionable values of the body. Degradation is just developing. From rebirth to rebirth, until the opportunity to be reborn in intelligent beings is lost. And there is already stagnation and disintegration. A pitiful fate."
"Is death not the end?"
"If death does not imply disincarnation and death of the soul, no. After a while, the soul will lose the accumulated information and go on rebirth. Sometimes there is a funny glitch in the universe, and the soul does not lose its personality and memory. By saving yourself from purging your identity once, you will be able to preserve yourself at the next death. An interesting mechanism that weeds out those who lack the Strength and Will to save themselves."
"And what happens to those who have escaped?"
"They make people like me."
Rex nodded slowly, looking into my eyes with heavy interest.
"I'm glad I approached you at C-SEC."
"Just don't think of me as something like a wise and ancient being!" I snorted. "You're older than me anyway, if you add up all the lives I've lived. In some cases, I only lasted a couple of hours."
In response, a sharp-toothed grin.
"You know how to cheer up an old warrior."
"Are you the old one?" I asked skeptically, unceremoniously examining Rex.
He laughed loudly.
"I'm interested in watching you in battle."
"No, it's not interesting." I rejected the idea of full-contact sparring.
Before his eyes, I grew long claws that clearly shone with a metallic sheen, and easily, effortlessly stuck them into the metal of the bunk up to the pads of my fingers.
"All the more interesting."
"If you don't use the capabilities of my body to kill directly and quickly, but only test the combat technique, it's not interesting at all. But as a murderer... I'm unlikely to have any peers. The Gift of a Metamorph can serve this purpose too well."
"That's right."
"Technically, Nihlus and Garrus are much stronger than me." I honestly admitted. "I'm a lousy hand-to-hand combatant. I had to learn how to wield a blade, as well as shoot, but hand-to-hand combat..." I shrugged my shoulders, not really upset by my lack. "When I have to fight without a weapon, I look completely different."
"You have the opportunity to learn."
"There is. And I will use it. But not now."
Rex understood my satisfied smile quite correctly and chuckled.
"You've become attached to them."
"Yes." I didn't argue with the obvious.
"It's good." Rex closed his red eyes. "It's hard to be alone. I know."
"Heavily..." I nodded in agreement.
"There will be a lot of problems because of them."
"When have I ever worried about other people's problems?" I grinned into his red eyes.
Rex grinned knowingly.
"With that attitude... I believe that you can protect your little clan."
"Oh, I can be very... I'm resourceful when it comes to protecting those I care about."
"What about him?" a short nod at the Turian lying next to us.
"He is dear to Nihlus. Mentor. Friend. In fact, he is an older brother. I personally have no reason to hate or dislike him, despite his fame."
My answer satisfied Rex's curiosity, and the Krogan ended the conversation, as usual, by simply walking away. He just nodded at me. He's an interesting guy.
Saren wheezed faintly, twitched. The new lung wasn't quite up to its duties yet, but it would get stronger in a day or two. Maybe faster, but in the meantime, not the most pleasant moments await him. I covered the naked Turian with a thin blanket and was about to leave when Benezia came into the infirmary.
After finishing the treatment, the Lady came to her senses the next morning, but I was already busy with Saren, and no one was allowed in the infirmary. Except Nihlus and Garrus. And then Rex showed up with his usual arrogance and impudence. Well, at least I got some impressions, and I expanded my stock of obscene Krogan and Turian, which, as it turned out, the warrior masterfully mastered. As a result, we got along well, spending long hours talking while I worked on Saren's carcass. And he became the third intelligent person who found out the truth about me.
"Am I interrupting?"
The soft murmuring voice of the Asari pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Not anymore. I've finished his treatment. Come On In, Lady." Benezia came over and stood over Saren, who was fast asleep, staring intently at his scarred face. After removing the pins, I had to assemble his jaw from pieces. Literally! I don't know how he did it... Did you catch a rocket in your face? Or did someone beat him up so badly that he broke his mandibles and lower jaw into trash? I don't know, but I've been collecting his face for a long time.
"I didn't believe that he could be saved." Asari whispered softly, touching the hard chitinous plates on her face. I saw that indoctrination had already affected him. She knew how deeply Sovereign had penetrated his mind. You've done the impossible, Irene.
"It was... difficult."
"I won't ask you how you did it."
I nodded gratefully.
"You treat him well."
The lady smiled.
"I knew Saren as a child, as well as his brother, Desolas." There was a short pause, and the Lady's slender fingers lightly stroked the sleeping man's forehead: a gentle, caring gesture... completely devoid of even a hint of sexual interest. That's how a mother can stroke. "At some point, I became interested in their fate."
"And then Desolas died."
Benezia nodded.
"Do you know the reason for his death? The true one, not the official one."
"The monoliths of the Arch. I know."
The matriarch shuddered, staring intently at my face.
"Your attitude towards Saren is touching me... surprised me. Without hate. Without prejudice. Without fear."
"Why should I hate him?"
"For hating people." seeing the expression on my face, Benezia corrected herself: "For his attempt to kill Nihlus."
"After which he dropped control three times while aboard this thing?" I asked skeptically.
"I didn't know."
"Sovereign quickly suppressed the rebellion." I met his gaze. "Due to the constant resistance, Saren's mind is much more mutilated than yours."
"The Healer of Souls," the Asari whispered, gazing intently into my eyes. "The Krogan was not mistaken." The lady smiled faintly. "Thank you."
And... she left.
And what was that? She came in, asked a couple of meaningless questions, looked at Saren and left. Or... or her questions were just a title, a reference point by which she tracked my reaction, my attitude, and my plans. An interesting Lady. Dangerous. VERY dangerous!
* * *
The doors opened and Nihlus literally flew into the infirmary, quickly crossed the short room and froze, staring intently at the sleeping Saren.
"I finished." I said softly, lightly touching his shoulder. "He is completely healthy. Another day or two to restore and strengthen the body, and that's it."
Nihlus abruptly turned around, dropping to one knee, scooped me up in his arms, burying his forehead in my collarbone.
"Rin..."
"T-sss... Don't say anything!" I put my hands on his shoulders. "I promised you that I would do everything to save him."
Grabbing his arm, I led Nihlus out of the infirmary. There's nothing for him to do there right now and meditate on the sleeper.
On the way to the cabin, we met Liara. The Asari just smiled encouragingly at the gloomy Turian and squeezed his shoulder lightly.
"He'll be fine."
Nihlus nodded gratefully at the girl.
The attitude towards Saren has changed dramatically these days. Lady Benezia did not even think to remain silent, describing with utmost honesty the Sovereign and his methods of influence, her feelings during control and the full power of mental attacks. She also talked about Saren and his breakdowns. In such expressions and choosing his words so carefully that Rex still walks thoughtfully, digesting the news.
Garrus appeared in the cabin: the guy was sprawled comfortably on the bed and was reading something from a datapad. When he noticed us, he moved over, giving me the opportunity to seat Nihlus and settle down next to them.
We were silent for a while. I just sat next to Nihlus and stroked his head, while Garrus stared intently at the distant face and thoughtful green eyes.
A quiet voice sounded suddenly:
"Saren... dear to me. Even though he tried to kill me..." Pain flashed in his green eyes, "obeying the Reaper's orders."
"I know." I stroked the long comb, running my fingers over the brow pads, lightly, on the verge of sensitivity. Nihlus closed his eyes and exhaled faintly. "He must gain strength now."
"You've done the impossible."
"Nothing is impossible." I moved to the edge of the bed, lightly pushed Nihlus in the chest, forcing him to lie down. He did not resist and obediently fell on his back. Your older brother is physically completely healthy.
Garrus blinked in surprise, shifting his uncomprehending gaze from me to his kinsman.
"Saren is not my brother." Nihlus objected softly, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Who are you trying to prove this to?" I kissed him on the nose. "Because I don't feel your attitude towards him? The fact that he is not your blood relative does not prevent you from considering him a brother."
Nihlus sighed, slightly closed his eyes, silently agreeing with me.
"How old were you when he took you on as a student?"
"Nineteen." he whispered. "A year later, I became a Spectr. We worked together as a team for six years, until we were given different missions. I've been working alone for the last few years, occasionally meeting Saren at the Citadel." a brief regret. "If I hadn't left.".. maybe it wouldn't have happened."
"You know it would have happened anyway."
The green eyes narrowed sharply.
"I'd already forgotten..."
"But in vain." I caught his eye and switched to a mental connection. "Perhaps you will be pleased that now Saren, like you, has fallen out of the interests of reality. He's free."
"And Garrus?"
"It's not too soon yet. He'll need to be looked after. The chance to get him out will appear only after Omega. I'm afraid he's going to get there, regardless of whether I get to Cerberus or not... There is still enough time to prepare before the key point." I sighed, rubbed the bridge of my nose tiredly, and said out loud: "Right now, I'm more concerned about your sworn brother and his state of mind."
"How bad is it?" Garrus asked quietly.
"How to say it... After Eden Prime, he reset the bindings three times. And twice he almost put a bullet in his head from the realization of the hopelessness of the situation, fortunately, Sovereign managed to suppress his rebellion. I think I'm even grateful to Nazara for not letting Saren blow his brains out." I was met with a steady and heavy gaze of green eyes. "You don't think it was his first attempt back on Vermeer, do you?"
The bright green eyes made it clear that this was exactly what he thought. Garrus just shook his head, as if he had received confirmation of his conclusions.
"The decision was made consciously and with cold-blooded calculation, but the reasons that brought him to the brink of suicide were different. After Eden Prime, there is an awareness of what has been done. Saren is sure that you, Nihlus, are dead."
"What?!" Nihlus shuddered.
"I was also surprised by Benezia's reaction. Later, I found out that Saren sincerely believes that he killed you on Eden Prime. He heard rumors about your survival, but he didn't believe it. He has a good memory, and Saren saw perfectly well that the wound was fatal.
"I thought he knew I was alive," Nihlus muttered in confusion.
"He doesn't know. The memory of your death caused a powerful enough storm in his emotional sphere that he could resist control. Nazara repeatedly suppressed the resistance and replaced the chain of memories, but the crude substitution quickly disintegrated, which led to another breakdown."
Nihlus slowly closed his eyes, suppressing the bright anger and rage. The strong fingers clenched convulsively.
"Did it happen without consequences?"
"No, of course not. Disruptions of such power always leave traces. The mind is shattering. Saren was well aware of what he was doing, for whom, and for what reason. He knew about control, but there was nothing he could do about it. He knew about indoctrination, but he also flattered himself with the false hope that he had not yet fallen under it. When I poked his nose in the mirror... He broke down."
Nihlus shuddered.
"Is it broken?"
"Yes. He broke down, literally tearing out of his mind the mental channel of control and the probe drill that makes its way to the personality. Technically speaking, there is not as much work on his mind as it might seem. I've saved ALL the remaining bookmarks in a couple of hours, but... It will be necessary to restore his personality and mind in the old-fashioned way, through conversations and persuasion."
"Are you saying his mind is clear now?" Nihlus abruptly sat up, but after receiving a push in the chest, he lay down again, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Technically, yes. Not a single bookmark, not a single extra weight."
"But?"
I sighed.
"But his condition is terrifying: his personality is on the verge of disintegration, his mind is on the verge of psychosis. Give me a little push and that's it."
"Do you want to leave him with us on the ship?" Nihlus' quiet voice sounded thoughtful.
"He can't be released into the outside world unattended right now. The mind is unstable. First, Sovereign messed with his brain, then I did, when I provoked the last breakdown." I hugged Nihlus, resting my head comfortably on his shoulder. "What Sovereign did to Saren is practically a rape of personality and mind. The substitution of concepts, the distortion of the worldview, the shift of the reference points of the main associative chains... By the time we arrived on Vermaer, all that remained of the former Saren was his body and his name. Yes, sometimes the personality threw off its shackles and overlooked for a couple of moments. Enough to appreciate the horror of what had been created."
Garrus's fingers lightly ruffled my hair, sliding over the back of my neck and aching temples in a light caress.
"That's why he's..." The rumbling voice trailed off as Garrus couldn't get the words out.
"Yes. You know, when a reasonable person looks into your eyes and says, `It's too late for me. Goodbye...' And then he just raises the gun and...", I shuddered, "and he shoots himself in the head... I'm an empath. I can feel even the slightest fluctuations of emotions. He understood everything at that moment. Immediately. His betrayal. Their actions. The murder of a student and a friend. You, Nihlus. Hopelessness, after realizing one's own indoctrination. Is it any wonder that he put a bullet in his head?"
Nihlus was silent, staring at the ceiling. Garrus just stroked my head, gently, gently, rolling my hair between his fingers.
"He can do it again."
"He will do it." I met worried light blue eyes. "If the Council recognizes him as a traitor, if he does not have support, Saren will live only as long as it takes for him to pass on all the available information and get his hands on a weapon. And then the logical result: a bullet in the head. Or just step off the edge of the Presidium Tower. As a last resort, he would silently slit his throat with his claws somewhere in a secluded corner. He has enough willpower."
"What do you suggest?"
"What?" I propped myself up on my elbow, peering into the green eyes. "To fix his brain! You can't leave him alone for a moment until he stops eating himself alive for what he's done."
"He won't forgive himself." Nihlus whispered faintly. "I nodded, pressing my cheek against the hot, hard plates on his chest."
"He won't forgive you."
"Is he asleep now?"
"yes. His mind needs time to regain its integrity. When he comes to his senses, he shouldn't be alone for even a moment. At this time, he will believe everything that is told to him: after the breakdown of mental control and a set of bookmarks, the mind is very susceptible, and the natural defense mechanisms are not working now. You tell him he's a traitor, and he'll believe it. If you tell him he's innocent, he'll believe you. You tell him that he deserves to die, and he will meekly accept death, even if he can kill himself in ANY way. This state will last about a day, then critical thinking and logic will work, natural shields and personality protection will rise. But these days he is absolutely vulnerable. Do you understand WHAT kind of power the one who will be next to him at this moment will have over him? And unlike Nazara's influence, these suggestions cannot be removed. Never. They will form the basis of perception and a new personality. It's already forever."
"You can't leave him either?"
"No. Otherwise, Chaos alone knows how he will be overwhelmed by what happened. Most likely, he will commit suicide despite everything that has been done. The memory is not going anywhere. Or he will eat himself morally first, and then commit suicide."
"Will you sit?"
"We will." If I'm around alone, "his mind might latch onto me, because I've triggered the breakdown of control. At best, I'll become something like a sister to him."
"And in the worst case?"
"Imprinting in any of its varieties. From the easy, trusting, to its most rigid form — complete imprinting, almost voluntary slavery."
Nihlus choked on air.
"Why is there such a strong reaction? Did the lady have any such problems?"
"Benezia had a ready-made subordination program in mind, created with jewelry precision. Saren has a rough hack. After that, his personality must be pieced together. Conflicts and all kinds of disruptions will continue to manifest themselves in nightmares and inappropriate behavior for a long time until a new Anchor is built."
"The anchor is this..."
"The meaning of existence. The basic imperative. For some, it is service to the Motherland, for others it is family, for others it is a thirst for profit, power or knowledge."
"What if the Anchor is a living being?" Garrus asked quietly.
"Then the imprinting process is automatically started as soon as the binding takes place. It is irreversible until the Anchor is changed. And it is almost impossible to stop this process."
"What do you suggest?"
"Don't let him go to that extreme." I shrugged my shoulders and said. "Saren will sleep for another ten hours. Approximately."
Garrus called up the clock on the instrument panel.
"It's worth getting some sleep. He might wake up in time for the morning."
It was a good idea.
Already falling asleep, it occurred to me that it would be worthwhile to somehow mentally prepare Saren for the news about the living Nihlus. No matter how he was interrupted by a sudden meeting...
Chapter 32.2 Saren.
A thin squeak pulled his consciousness out of the darkness, forcing him to realize what he had heard. The silence of a small room, the barely perceptible rustle of ventilation. Another squeak. The sound from the life support device. Too quiet. Muted. That's right, he turned it down himself so that it wouldn't get on his nerves and irritate sensitive hearing. The familiar rumble of engines running at full power, the vibration reverberating throughout the body. The information has passed awareness: he is on the Kratos.
And then came a wave of memories: a conversation with the Sovereign, the capture, Shepard and her sharp, cutting words, the realization of her short-term freedom and the attempt... free yourself.
Unsuccessful.
Again...
His chest began to tingle, and his breathing was habitually labored from lack of air. Saren growled softly and opened his eyes. Overhead is the familiar ceiling of the infirmary. `Kratos.'
`Kratos'?
Saren blinked, sat up abruptly, with a jerk. What is he doing on the Kratos? He asked a question, and immediately found the answer: Shepard! Irrepressible girl! Why did she drag him with her? Doesn't he realize how dangerous he is? The Sovereign's control can return at any moment!
The Turian growled angrily, clenching his fists so that the claws pierced his palms and sank deep into the flesh. Stupid girl! Familiar, somewhat relieving pain, clearing the mind... Saren shook his heavy head and habitually wiped his hands on his hips, smearing blood on the blanket. He should... the thought stumbled. The wrongness of the situation reached the mind and passed awareness. Saren slowly raised his hands and froze, staring intently at the bloody palms. On TWO bloody palms.
"How..." the quiet, hoarse voice was barely audible.
Saren stared at his hand without blinking. Lively. Not the Geth's prosthetic leg, which had already become familiar, but his own, native hand! He was perfectly aware of the pain in his open palm, the slight coolness of the air, the stinging elbow and the slight irritation from the catheter.
"How is this possible?" he whispered, feeling his forearm.
With a soft hiss, the door opened, admitting... Saren gasped for air, staring in dumbfounded disbelief at the young Turian who entered the infirmary, reading something from a datapad as he walked.
Impossible! He's dead! He shot him in the face himself!
"Nihlus?"
A hoarse, cracked voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silence.
Nihlus jerked his whole body, stopped abruptly, the datapad slipped out of his fingers and thudded to the floor. Confused green eyes stared at Saren in surprise. A short pause, realization of what he saw, and:
"Saren?"
A quiet voice, full of endless surprise and confusion, stirred up memory, mercilessly splashing memories into a tortured mind: a powerful blow to consciousness, plunging it into a murky mass of direct control, a hand raising through force, a trembling rifle, barely noticeable recoil from shots, rage, hatred, despair at the realization of what was happening, anger at his own impotence, the falling body of the one he even mentally called brother, and the barely audible, choking with blood, full of surprise and incomprehension, native voice:
"Saren..."
A voice that echoes in both memories and reality... genuine surprise and confusion in the green eyes... Saren shuddered all over.
The images were superimposed on one another, reality and visions of the past, causing conflicts of perception, pulling out half-erased memories one after another. Waking up to the Sovereign, a voice full of wonder... awareness of what has been done... with my own hands... looking into the eyes... on the orders of this creature... The touch of icy metal against the soft skin under his jaw, and a heavy hand unable to finish what he started, the voice is the thought of the Sovereign in his head... the murky weight of control, the orders, the anxious eyes of Lady Benezia. Unreasonable rage...
My mind couldn't stand the strain and the intensity of emotions, getting confused in reality and memories, and my consciousness turned off, plunging into blessed darkness.
* * *
In the morning, I was thrown out of bed by a wave of fear mixed with panic, and a scream:
"Rin!"
Garrus jerked up next to me, staring at me blankly with sleepy eyes. It took us just a moment to realize this scream, and he asked suspiciously:
"Nihlus?"
"Rin, help me!" Another shout came over the ship's intercom.
We exchanged glances. The only sensible explanation for this panic came to us at the same time. Exhaling, "Saren!" we rolled off the bed. I was already getting dressed on the run, my bare feet slapping on the icy metal floor.
In the infirmary, I was greeted by an epic picture: a panicking Nihlus, holding Saren by the shoulders, who was in a deep swoon. The mental plane has been plowed into the trash. One look into those confused green eyes was enough for me to reconstruct the picture of what had happened.
Great job...
Cursing softly, I walked over to Saren. I yanked the catheters out of his hands and pointed to the next bed:
"Put it here and stop panicking!"
Nihlus silently did as he was told, and I covered our victim with a blanket and climbed onto a chair with my feet so as not to stand on the rather cold floor.
"Beauty! There are no words, only the matyugs!" I muttered, dumping a bundle of vital energy on the victim of irrepressible care. Garrus shook his head, pulled over a second chair, and sat down next to it.
"Nihlus, do you want him dead?" In response, a wave of panic and a guilty look. What a damn poor kitten!
"Yes, from such shocks, his last brains will fall off!"
"I didn't expect him to wake up so quickly." Nihlus replied in a trembling voice.
"To be honest, neither do I." Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I frowned at Saren, who was quickly recovering. "Okay, there's no point in panicking and eating your brains out, it's too late anyway. But you should have thought a little about the consequences! I warned you that he thinks he killed you!"
"you warned me." the Turian agreed quietly, slowly calming down. "I didn't expect such a reaction."
"What's unexpected about that? I told you, his mind is VERY receptive right now. Naturally, when he saw you, he remembered the circumstances of your last meeting. I couldn't help but remember! I told you that these memories are strongly tied to the emotional sphere to knock him out of the Reaper's control! And here..." I shook my head. "At least he had enough willpower to survive all this relatively smoothly for the personality. And so everything is plowed over there!"
Saren flinched slightly, blinked, and opened his eyes. Seeing the unspoken question in the blue eyes, I lazily said:
"No, you're not imagining it. Yes, this is reality. And yes, Nihlus is alive and well, out there, blinking his eyes."
Blue eyes narrowed, Saren slowly raised himself on his elbow and sat up with difficulty, staring intently at the confused Nihlus.
The real Saren was completely unlike his canonical prototype in character and habits. No lofty pathos and majestic poses. In front of me sat a withdrawn, taciturn and unsociable man who did not know what to do now, indifferent to his life and so nervous that not even the slightest glimmer of joy from his own survival flashed through his emotions. And there was only relief from the realization that Nihlus was alive. And burning, impotent shame... For what he did.
Nihlus approached Saren, staring intently into blue, guilt-filled eyes. Silently, he raised his hand and squeezed his shoulder tightly. The left one. And then he just grabbed him with a jerk and hugged him tightly. The mental was ablaze with a storm of emotions.
"Saren! Don't! Do it! So! More!" Nihlus growled, releasing the confused sworn brother from his iron grip. "If you get carried away on questionable adventures again... At least warn me... At least for me..."
Saren didn't know what to say to that, he just remained silent, staring intently into the bright green eyes. And it dawned on me that at this rate he would quickly wind himself up so that I wouldn't figure it out in a year. And he's not going to talk. He just sits and watches, carefully following the slightest gestures and glances, analyzes, trying to understand and realize the big picture.
Nihlus said softly:
"No matter what happens, I will never refuse to support you, brother."
The blue eyes widened in disbelief.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't even be trying to save you."
"It's too late to save me." Saren said distantly.
Nihlus choked on air and lost the ability to speak coherently for a moment out of anger. Looking at the twisted face and green eyes literally glowing with rage, I chuckled and said ironically:
"Really. It's too late to save." At these words, Nihlus choked on the prepared words, and Saren shuddered. "We've ALREADY saved you."
At this life-affirming moment, I got up, went to the table and picked up a small mirror I had prepared in advance.
"On."
I handed it to Saren and waited patiently until he reached out and took it, and then returned to my seat. Saren stared at me with a hard stare.
"Look, look."
The cold blue eyes slowly lowered their gaze to the mirror, squeezed until the knuckles turned white.
It took him a long half minute to realize what he had seen and, most importantly, to believe in what the mirror was showing him. Indifference cracked, completely washed away by boundless amazement and disbelief. Saren slowly raised his eyes, looking at me in confusion.
"It was impossible!" He typed. "I've researched everything related to indoctrination. She can't be turned!"
"To convert — no." I nodded in agreement. "But you can REMOVE all the excess from the body. Nanites, the tissues they have altered, and... everything else that is not a naturally occurring part of the body."
Saren slowly closed his eyes and clenched his fingers with such force that the mirror cracked. Well, at least he understands what condition he was in. And that makes me happy.
"I should be dead by now."
"You were on edge." I corrected him.
"How much... How long has it been?"
"More than five days."
The blue eyes widened. Saren raised his hand, clenched his fingers into a fist, turned his gaze back to me and slapped:
"There is nothing on board the Kratos that could give such a result."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I used something called `body plastic': I connected directly to your body like a symbiote and put you back together." I replied calmly. "It's a disgusting sight, by the way."
"A human can't do that." Saren said, staring intently into my eyes.
"What makes you think I'm human?" I asked ironically.
Saren blinked in surprise.
"Irene Shepard is a human being."
I stretched out my hand, turned my palm ostentatiously, and slowly grew long claws.
"Nope!"
She smiled at the startled Turian. Watching Saren Arterius' face stretch out in amazement is an unreal pleasure! I never thought that I would like it so much! Otherwise, his indifferent face made you want to do something... It's not good to break this stone mask. However, he quickly got over his surprise and was now staring at me intently.
"How did Nihlus survive?" he asked dully, avoiding the green eyes.
"He ended up in the Normandy infirmary about seven minutes after the shooting." I replied nonchalantly. "All it took was promising to wring someone's neck."
In response, a skeptical, incredulous look.
"You shouldn't doubt it." I grinned at him. "I have quite a good reputation. However, recently someone has forgotten about it... I had to remind you." I added dryly.
Garrus chuckled.
"Are you talking about the seven idiots you threw out in the airlock?"
"Six of them were pumped out... But notice how the productivity of the work immediately increased!" I grinned cannibally. "Well, it can't be helped if someone's brain starts working only when they're killed."
Garrus grinned and... gently stroked my head with a tender look in his eyes. The bastard is adorable, he ruined the whole effect! But Saren's thoughtful look pleased me a little.
"How did you find my base?"
"I pulled Lady Benezia out of her brain." I replied.
"Is she alive?"
Oh, wow! Anxiety? And they said he didn't give a shit about anyone. As it turned out, this is far from the case. However, the vast majority of the rumors turned out to be extremely far from reality, to my undisguised happiness.
"She's on this ship with her daughter. Anticipating your possible question: her mind has been cleared of the Reaper's influence."
Saren nodded slowly and his expression darkened even more.
"Yours, too, by the way." I added, watching with interest as the blue eyes widened. "So be it, since you're not really asking the questions you're really interested in... I will say: yes, I managed to COMPLETELY rid you of indoctrination, its consequences and the control of the Sovereign." The steely eyes narrowed sharply.
"We know perfectly well what Sovereign is, and how you got into it!" Nihlus muttered, drawing attention to himself. Seeing the promising gleam in his green eyes and feeling a rising storm of emotions, I exchanged glances with Garrus. The same thought shone in his crystal-light blue eyes: `It's time to get out!'.
"Okay, you guys talk here, and we'll go..."
We hurriedly rolled out into the corridor, and from the infirmary came the soft, insinuating, growling voice of Nihlus:
"What were you thinking when...!!!"
The closing doors of the infirmary cut off the end of the sentence.
Chapter 32.3
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