Morrigan had Xol lead her to her room before dismissing him. What she thought she wanted was to be alone with no external influence to process. Skoll was the first one into the room, Morrigan watching her beloved companion pad around sniffing the room with curiosity before she stepped in far enough for the door to close behind her.

  Her room was dark as she looked around with an eerie, lingering silence that slowly grated against her nerves. The room lacked the needed familiar laughter and animated conversation.

  But Nora was hospitalized and Sigurd was gone, leaving her room, and her life, feeling vacant. She felt the quietness around her as if it was tangible; cold, hollow and uncaring, before her gaze fell upon the large case that sat behind the sofa, the silence slowly turning into a cacophony of static within her mind as she took a single step forward.

  Echoes of laughter sang around her as she moved closer, startling her and causing her to look up to see faint images of Sigurd all around the room. It hurt, a pain that continued to pulsate and grow stronger as she stepped closer and she watched the faint memories of the man. Laughing, crude gestures and adamantly speaking about things she couldn’t recall in the moment, every memory she had was of a bright smile without a single care in the world.

  A sharp yip brought reality back into the darkness of the room, Morrigan’s heart pounding in her chest as it resisted the crushing pain she felt before she heard Skoll’s claws scratch across something hard. She found Skoll standing near the case that sat behind her couch, Sigurd’s case, as he looked up at her and let out a grunt.

  Pursing her lips, Morrigan gripped the mask she held tighter as she nodded; not to Skoll, but to herself, as she decided facing the truth was the only option. Skoll stamped his feet when she moved closer, watching as she crouched down allowing him to stick his nose within the mask she held to sniff it vigorously.

  Morrigan absently mindedly moved Skoll’s head out of the way to set the mask down so she could unlock the six-and-a-half-foot case. Inside sat the sword of the mad Berserker; the five foot long and five-inch-wide blade that fit within a blocky power unit built along the hilt, responsible for generating a macromolecular electromagnetic field coupled with a gravity field around the massive blade, allowing the blade to cut through most substances with absolute ease, making it one of the most dangerous weapons to ever exist in small scale conflicts and perfect for beings such a Sigurd. It was a weapon truly designed for him… and it was now hers.

  Morrigan’s mind went blank as she stared at the battle-scarred weapon, her heart and mind warring against one another as Skoll stuck his snout within the case and sniffed the massive blade.

  Skoll let out a long, low whine, Morrigan’s blank stare finally shifting to see Skoll laying down with his head on his paws and his nose next to the case. He looked up at her from staring at the case, the sadness prevalent in his eyes as he whined again before sighing and looking back into the case.

  That broke the war within her seeing Skoll recognize that Sigurd was gone. “I know, sweetie…” her voiced cracked as she picked Skoll’s head up and cradled him in her arms, sniffling as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I know, baby… I miss him too…” she whispered into his ear as she rested her cheek on the top of Skoll’s head as he sighed, his own sadness permeating the air as she struggled to remain strong, staring at the marred great sword, and trying to force herself to accept the great weight of her new reality. She didn't want to face it though, not yet, because she had an equally pressing matter to force her focus on.

  Lifting her head and wiping the crimson tears away, she patted Skoll on the shoulder, “Come on buddy. Let's go see momma,” she said softly as she stood. A jolt of excitement brushed her nerves as Skoll jerked up in anticipation, his sadness shrouded with the expectation of seeing Nora.

  To see him switch gears so fast made Morrigan jealous, yet should couldn’t help but feel glad that he could feel something different as they headed out the door.

  ◇◇◇

  Nora had been sedated by the time Morrigan and Skoll reached the recovery room. One of the doctors on staff explained that the young woman had been very “adamant” about leaving after being told of her condition when she had woken up, against Dr. Tamina’s bed rest order. Luckily, Nora showed none of the symptoms of severity that could come with a concussion which allowed the doctors to sedate her rather than risk injury, to neither staff nor Nora herself, in attempting to restrain her.

  Begrudgingly, Morrigan understood and resigned to sitting quietly holding Nora’s hand as she rested. Skoll did his part by laying his head across her legs, radiating the warm compassion a loyal creature felt for their owner.

  Morrigan wanted to be mad, she wanted to be frustrated with both her lover as well as the doctors but she understood both sides. Nora did not do doctors, nor would she remain still until she was certain everything was fine, especially Morrigan. Dr. Tamina would do whatever it took to make certain her patients were cared for and were definitively in the clear, especially one just as elusive as Morrigan was; Morrigan’s title was the only thing that kept her safe from Tamina’s determination.

  Morrigan tried to tell Nora how she was but couldn’t find the words just yet, telling her what had happened in hopes that Nora would hear her but all she could do try to ease Nora’s subconscious was squeeze her hand and let her know she was there for her.

  “Please behave yourself sweetie. I love you, Mori.” Was the note Morrigan made sure to leave behind after Sister reminded her of the time at the behest of Admiral Shepard.

  Morrigan found herself entering one of the hangers, the giant blast doors closed which surprised Morrigan since she had always seen the blue hue of an atmospheric barrier that separated the Void of space from the interior of the ship.

  What surprised Morrigan even more was the number of crewmembers that filled the expansive hanger; thousands of men and women filling nearly every inch including the platforms and walkways above, except for a pathway kept open for the ship’s Inquisitor as everyone waited for her to arrive.

  Morrigan’s spine alit with fire as the wave of emotions smashed into her; anger, sorrow, anguish, jealousy, the hanger was a cacophony of emotions that clashed with her own rising fear and pain. Her heart thundered in her ears as many of those waiting looked at her expectantly, those closest giving her a respectful nod or an emotional salute as Shepard spoke loud enough to echo throughout the giant open space.

  Morrigan and Skoll moved their way through the crowd, taking the path made to lead towards the front. Shepard paused as she noticed Morrigan enter her view, turning and giving her a respectful nod of her own. Everything around her looked surreal as Morrigan inspected her surroundings.

  The crowd was a strange array of the Archangel crew; ranging from combat crewmembers to administrators, medical staff all the way to maintenance workers and everything in between. She even spied Havoc Squad front and center standing respectfully, being the only ones who had no strong emotions about the service. The thunderous beat of her heart only got louder as she saw the massive metal container beside Shepard, a container used in the likeness of a casket positioned in front of the airlock used for disposal that sat between both hanger bay doors. Morrigan watched as people one by one paid their respects, unable to hear a thing as the true reality of the day finally sank in; Morrigan unable to avoid it any longer.

  As Morrigan stare reached a thousand yards, Shepard and the crew all watched Skoll stalk towards the container and closely inspect it. Skoll pushed on the container with his front paws, letting out a desperate whine as his claws and pads thumped against the metal box.

  Emotions ran high as everyone watched the giant canine try to open the makeshift casket, whining loudly until Shepard finally stepped forward and placed a hand on Skoll’s side.

  “That’s enough, boy. He would appreciate it,” she said.

  Skoll looked at the small old woman before landing on all fours and sitting with his ears flat. The next moment Skoll let out a long, sad, low howl that broke everyone.

  Morrigan snapped out of her daze with a gasp for air as she realized she had been barely breathing. Lost in confusion, Morrigan looked to see the majority of the room break down, Skoll sitting next to the make shift casket and Shepard taking the stand once more. “I know Sigurd has touched many of our lives; he is, by far, the most widely known soldier I have ever had to give final rites to… as much as he did his best to annoy me, I too shall miss him dearly. He was a unique soul to ever grace our ship… and he leaves behind many memories for all of us…” Shepard stated with little control over her own emotions as she placed a hand on Skoll’s shoulder. Skoll did the one thing he knew how to do and leaned down to slap his large tongue across Shepard’s cheek, which she accepted as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

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  After a deep breath, Shepard looked up at the gathered mass around the hanger, “There is one more who, respectfully, feels the most of us all…” Shepard turned her gaze to Morrigan. “Mori…” she said garnering a wide-eyed look for the lost woman, “It is time. If there is anything you wish to say, now is the time to do it.”

  Morrigan trembled as she looked at the amass of eyes looking to her as her self awareness snapped back in place. Twin streaks of crimson slide down her cheeks as a new wave of emotion filled her, an unbridled sadness and panic settling in as her entire being finally came to terms with the death of Sigurd.

  “I…I can’t…” she thought to herself only to be surprised by Apollyon.

  You should. The time of finality is here, Mori. He was a man that respected you for who you are and he deserves the same in return.

  Morrigan bit her lip as she looked to the mass of crewmember, then to Skoll, Shepard and finally on the container that held her best friend. Apollyon was right and she knew it, she did not want to be a coward despite every nerve on her body screaming at her to run. She was a leader, one that others should never see flee but at the very least, Morrigan knew Sigurd deserved her final goodbye.

  “All of these people… they knew him… enough to be here for him…” she thought as she stepped forward remembering how Sigurd had always been there for her when she needed him.

  Morrigan stepped up to the casket, Shepard and Skoll both moving away as Morrigan’s gaze looked across the room before settling on the container. She felt the cold metal against her skin as she placed her hand on the container.

  “This may not come as a surprise… but, Sigurd was special to me,” she said aloud, her voice echoing softly around the room as she sniffled. Turning to the gather crowd she barely recognized, she took a deep breath to address them all. “One way or another, he made himself known to you, which is why we’re here today…”

  “Sigurd Ericsson was a man without shame, without concern. He lived with a smile on his face and levity in his voice…” Morrigan’s voice cracked.

  “He embraced who he was, accepted what he was; a foul mouthed, morally challenged killing machine developed by the CoU… and he enjoyed every minute of it.”

  Morrigan sniffled deeply as she rubbed her hand across the container, “But… he, he… I don’t think he ever knew what else he was…”

  Morrigan choked on the words as she saw the sorrowful looks, Skoll coming to her side and wrapping a soft fur lined tentacle around her waste. Lips quivering, Morrigan placed a hand on Skoll’s shoulder, “Family,” she forced out before smearing the blood across her cheeks without thinking. “He became the brother I never had… He was my family and… and… I let him die,” Morrigan squeaked out through her sobs.

  “I broke my family…I’m sorry… I'm so sorry,” said looking from Skoll to the crowd then to the casket.

  “I told you no! And you had me give in!” she cried before slamming her palms against the container. “You were okay but I’m not! We’re not! I… we…” Morrigan couldn’t find the words she needed as she cried harder, looking through a shade of red at her hand as a single claw appeared along her middle finger. Without warning, Morrigan pierced the palm of her hand, the excruciating pain stemming her tears as it clouded over her emotions, causing several gasps and Shepard to rush to her side as she pressed her hand to the casket, feeling her blood spread across her palm as a full set of claws coalesced and carved their likeness into the metal.

  She felt her hand begin to heal and the claws fade as Shepard gently pulled her away from the container, pulling Morrigan into her arms as Shepard gave a signal to Havoc Squad to step around the casket. Morrigan could see the tears in some of their eyes, showing that Sigurd had even made his way into some of their hearts as well before they began pushing the container into the airlock as Shepard had asked of them. She watched as her parting gift disappeared within the airlock and moved towards it only for Shepard to gently push her back.

  Morrigan looked down at the old woman, “I understand, Mori, but now we must honor his final wish.” Morrigan bit her lip and did everything she could to resist chasing after the part of her life she did not want to let go.

  She watched Havoc Squad moved to each side of the airlock before Ebony called out something unintelligible as she fought against breaking down completely.

  She felt the vibration of everyone clicking their together as she heard them all salute behind her, everyone except for Ebony being the team leader, and whose duty it was, who instead reached and pressed the button that split Morrigan’s heart.

  ◇◇◇

  Morrigan rushed into her bedroom as tears continued to fall, locking the door, and hyperventilating as she looked around the room.

  “What have I done?” she breathed as sobs returned to her in full force.

  In a flash of despair, she gripped the edge of the dresser that sat to the right of her door and slammed it into the floor, gripping her head as her mind threatened to break against the pressure of self doubt and sorrow.

  “I broke my family… I killed him, I killed him,” Morrigan spiraled as she forced herself to sit on the edge of her bed. Morrigan cried with full force as the true weight of loss hit her, the despair and soul crushing pain that had threatened her since she had woken up.

  How could she be a leader if she got her best friend killed? How could she lead a war if she so stupidly walked into a trap designed specifically for her? How many more would she get killed all because of her pride? These were questions that cyclically surfaced in her mind without end.

  Several minutes of perpetual breakdown passed before Sister came alive over the speakers in her room, “Mori, I know you are having difficulties with the death of Sigurd Ericsson, it is something I have spent many weeks questioning various members of the Archangel in an attempt to understand the human condition. Mr. Ericsson was the only one never annoyed by my questions and seemed quite enthusiastic in answering them, as well as speaking about experiences of his life. I do not know if it will help, but I can play them for you, if you wish.”

  Morrigan looked up from her blood-stained hands, the chance to hear his voice again causing her heart to ache as she nodded for Sister to see.

  “Very well, this was his response to my inquiry “What does it feel like to end someone’s life?”,” the sound of a soft static came over the speakers before Sigurd’s jovial voice played.

  “That’s an interesting one. Ya see, most people find it hard to snip the ol’ life tether, but not me though. I love it. The feelin’ of total power over one of the most priceless things in life, life itself, within yer grasp is better than gettin’ blown by a seasoned whore. Ya know what I mean?”

  Morrigan couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity as tears streamed down her face.

  “There is beauty in death, whether it be yer own or someone else’s. A brilliant moment where everything makes sense in the world, an ye can feel true existence. Its wonderful, like a high ye just can't get enough of. I bet the lass knows what I’m sayin’. Have ye ever seen her make a kill? Absolute perfection.”

  “The next question was “Why do you commit to such a vulgar lifestyle?”.” Sister stated as Morrigan sniffled and curled up on her bed.

  “Vulgar? Who says it’s vulgar? Bunch o’ cowardly cunts if ye ask me. Listen, whoever thinks me life is vulgar are only jealous of what they’re too afraid to do. Massacres, drugs, orgies, “harsh language”, all these things are basic desires of every bloke an lass with half a brain cell. The only thin’ keepin’ em from enjoyin’ life is their own fear. Not me though, my life is finite as was the deal I made wit’ the docs that made me, an I intend on tearing an fuckin’ me way through the universe before me demise, that way I can have it in me mind that I went for it an leave no regrets. So, if that makes me vulgar, then bully for the spineless cowards too afraid to live.”

  Morrigan shook her head unable to resist the sad smile that crept across her face as Sister continued.

  “This question was “What are you thoughts on Lord Inquisitor Clarke?”.”

  The question made Morrigan lift her head with mixed emotions of curiosity and swift sorrow, but instead of stopping the recording, she forced herself to face whatever was about to be said.

  “The lass? The wee lass is grand. Beautiful, brilliantly intelligent an packs a punch that’d impress me Maimeó, aye, she’s a bag of ferrets, in a good way. Oi! If ye open yer damned digital mouth that I said any of this, I’ll cut out yer hard drive an fuck yer motherboard! *Sigurd sighs* But, if der was one thing I could say… it’s that the lass is better than I am. She had every chance to put me down like a dog an yet insisted on keepin’ me alive… She has a heart that bleeds for others, a mad ferret brain that could end this war if she chose to and that’s what sets her apart from everyone. Me? I’m a selfish bastard, I know that, I don’t want the war to end because, what happens to me? I can’t live a “normal” life. But her? She has her lass that loves her an a chance to live a happy life, hell, she could have wee lads an lasses of her own an get married to the mad woman she chose-which was a brilliant choice for her! My hat goes off to her for pickin’ up a darlin’ lass that can see no bad in her… I hope she gets that chance. Once all of this is over, she should settle with Nora an have wee runts of her own an tell them stories of Ol’ Uncle Sigurd… but until then, until her mad dream of unity that only she could make reality… She’ll do right by everyone. I can see the leader in her, an she’ll be what the universe needs to have prosperity. So… I’ll follow her lead for as far as I can, an be the ax that parries the blade just so she can be the knife that pierces the heart… so me thoughts on the lass? I'll follow her ta hell an back because out of everyone I’ve met, she is the only one who deserves undying loyalty, even by the dying such as I.”

  Sister continued to play dozens of recordings for hours as Morrigan listened. Breaking down and crying her eyes out the entire time as she felt her heart completely break from guilt, shame and utter despair as she tortured herself by listening to the man, who made himself her brother, answer questions with the absurd answers she had grown accustomed to, taking in the solace and the pain she felt she deserved until she passed out from exhaustion.