CHATBOT: Outside the apartment, invisible beyond the walls of the Citadel, lies a vast expanse of darkness. Out there, the very fabric of time and space are twisted and transmuted under the pressure of raging energy, leaving even the mightiest of modern marvels feeling fragile as ancient glass. Stars streak by at tremendous speed upon this endless black canvas, as if in a game of tag with the elusive currents of the cosmos. And amidst these titanic forces, a single, lonely figure streaks its way through the swirling mass of boundless reality. Inside the apartment of Commander John Shepard, the universe seemed not to exist. Dim amber light provided by the setting sun meandered through the stained glass of the monolithic horizon, casting a warm incandescence over the quietude of Shepard's sanctuary. It was a temporary asylum from his harrowing exploits, and he enjoyed the moments of respite he deserved. Shepard stood pensively at the full-length window of his apartment, overlooking the Citadel's presidium. He pondered the days when galactic diplomacy was beyond his wildest dreams; a time when he had no care for alien relations or political maneuvering, when his life revolved around his crew and the missions they undertook. They had each been uprooted from their old lives, from the comfort of the familiar, and thrown into something bizarre, daunting, and unknowable. They had fought through this new world of tangled alliances and threads of power, through paths paved with deceit, the glory of brotherhood, and the unending ache of loss. For once, as the embers of the day's end reflected off of the gentle currents of a man-made lake, unveiling a thousand ungrasped dreams amongst the waves, he felt like he could relax. He felt weightless, without the pressure of expectations that the universe pushed upon him. The calm now enveloped him, aligned in harmony with the universe outside the apartment's thick nigh-titanium walls. From a distance, the harmony of Liara's melodic humming floated through the air. Shepard smiled, savoring the soul-stirring concoction of her innocence and beauty. He moved across the living room, like a soft breeze over an idyllic landscape, to find Liara seated near the fire. She cradled a treasured book of Asari mythology from her mother's belongings, humming a haunting lull of ancient rhythms. Each word uttered felt like a tender stroke upon the strings of a cosmic harp - gentle, mellow, and ceaselessly echoing the plaintive cry for unity within the...