I looked down to find my body lying on the ground, lifeless and still. Opening my eyes I saw I was floating and glowing an ethereal blue. I scrunched my eyes closed, clutched at my head, and groaned as the pain spread, only for the sky to pen up in a swirling vortex and a feeling of weightlessness to replace the pain suddenly and all at once. I felt the pain travel from my forehead, down through my entire body, to the bottoms of my feet. Immediately a splitting pain erupted in my head as if it had been split open with the force of a thunderbolt. "Then prepare yourself, for you will carry within you the fire needed to save that Universe!" Intoned Prometheus as his eyes glowed blue and he touched a finger to my forehead. Not that I have an option, really." I sighed. Now? It is impossible for me to do." Scoffed Prometheus. Even a century ago it would have taken effort, but I could have done it. I haven't been for over 12 millennia now.
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Were I at my full power, dealing with a paradox backlash would be easy. "Great, guess you aren't really giving me much choice then, huh?" I groused. No, I would need to place you in an alternate timeline where you didn't exist to avoid paradox." Answered Prometheus. I cannot put you back where you were in your universe without causing temporal distress. "You have already been pulled from your timestream slightly for this conversation. "What happens if I refuse to go?" I queried. I'd better find out what happens if I say no, though. I thought it over for a moment, it wasn't a great deal, but it could be a lot worse.
You would need to be phenomenally unlucky." Frowned Prometheus. Their flotilla is a moving target, after all. "So I could end up a Quarian, hated by everyone in the galaxy for stupid reasons and discriminated against like there's no tomorrow?" I asked.
I can only guarantee you will be in the right galaxy in the right time frame." Sighed Prometheus. You could wind up on Earth as a Human, you could wind up on an alien world as an Alien. "Reincarnation into a baby for one thing, for another, I will need to spend less effort to steer your consciousness through the aether. I will need to conserve power elsewhere." Replied Prometheus. I will not be able to send you as you are, in fact, to send you at all will take quite a bit of my power, let alone to give you boons.
"The catch, such as it is, is that my power wanes as I am trapped on this rock. "A great boon? What's the catch?" I asked. As for yourself, if you go I will offer you a great boon." Intoned the Old Man. That holds true in that universe as much as it does yours. "I care because it is my nature to care, I am Prometheus, Friend of Man. "Even if that's the case, why do you care? Why should I? It's not my universe any more than it is yours." I retorted. Infinite universes mean infinite possible permutations, you understand?" Queried the Old Man. You may think it fiction, but there is a universe where it is quite real.
Hell, this is a dream, technically you're not real." I responded. "You saw what will befall Mankind if nothing is done?" Asked the Old Man. On his wrists sat a pair of manacles made of an unknown metal, the chains to which sat firmly attached to the base of the rock. Here, an old man stood on a bloody rock on the cliffside, unharmed but clearly fatigued. At the moment of total lucidity, however, I found myself not watching what was clearly the Reaper Invasion of the Milky Way, but on a Mountainside somewhere else.
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I recognized several of them from the Mass Effect series as the dream went on and became clearer, less hazy. Not just humans, but over a dozen different alien species as well. I watched in horrified fascination as whole planets were converted into slavering cybernetic monstrosities and set loose on their fellows. It was a half-dream, half-nightmare, with beings of unfathomable power, half-machine and half creature snuffing the life from worlds one-by-one until no sapient beings remained. I thrashed around in my sleep, dreaming restless dreams of laughing gods, interstellar extinction, and technical progress.
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