glyph, lower their morale!

They've filled the Normandy with people who look up to you in an effect to placate you and make you feel at home, but it's more alienating than if everyone hated you. They've given you your own private quarters but they make you feel alone and cut off from everyone. They say it's your ship, just like the one flew on before, and that you're in command, only there are doors that won't open for you and are locked tight. They parade before you a friend you knew who is so excited about all of this, but you didn't live through that and you're not over what you lost like he is. You look in the mirror and you're literally cracking at the seams and they tell you and only you can save the galaxy - enough that you were worth billions of resources to bring back - and you think about the soldier, the friend, you lost on Virmire and how nobody thought to bring them back. You're a ghost everyone is worshipping, a legend that everyone is clinging to, a soldier, a spectre, a saviour, a hero, but not a person anymore.