#cerberusphantom

To: Shepard, Shane

From: Huerta Memorial, the desk of Doctor Lachlan Kersyva, PhD

"Shepard: I know you do not know my name, but I know yours. You failed to kill me on the Citadel. Was it mercy, weakness, or did you anger over the drell blind your reason and cripple your abilities? Whatever it was, I should thank you, truly, for I am able to continue my work as my employer wishes of me.

I have no point in sending this, really, save to thank you for sparing my life. An act of mercy for an agent of Cerberus from the organisation's most hated enemy, it's most powerful former ally. Truly unexpected, but most appreciated.

I suspect you will have EDI run traces on this message. I will spare you the trouble. It will lead you to Huerta Memorial, to the terminal of Doctor Lachlan Kersyva, who is actually at a microallocations meeting regarding medical supplies for the war. Her terminal will have been wiped, and security footage will show her using it, then leaving for her meeting. 

Protocol. You understand. But ah, I digress. My reason for messaging you was a sincere, heartfelt thanks. Letting me live has given me purpose, increased fervour in my work. 

The next time you find yourself at the hospital, you should visit a young Alliance Marine by the name of David Michels. He is in a most curious state of agony. I will give you the list of his symptoms.

¤ Heart failure.  ¤ Respiratory paralysis  ¤ Apoptosis  ¤ Hallucinations/Seizures ¤ Tremors/Poor muscle coordination 

Sad. He might not make it. It seems to be a very acute poisoning, but the doctors are at their wit's end trying to formulate an antidote. Such a shame. He was actually considered for N7 training. Tsk tsk tsk. Such a waste of potential. 

Even if he does make it, he will suffer severe damage to cardiovascular system and bone marrow, a suppressed immune system, and neuropathy. A full medical discharge with disability. A soldier's life, cut short by poison. 

And he has you to thank for it, Shepard. Because you let me live.

Sie haben meinen aufrichtigen Dank, Kommandant.

Aufrichtig,

A most grateful Phantom. ♥

The gash in her hand widened that much more as she tightened her hand, knuckles going white. Red blood, human blood, immediately turned the white gauze crimson. 

Because the migraine afflicted Commander had more than one reason to be angry, and rarely if ever knew how to immediately bottle things. At least at the moment. When the pain was highest coupled with the rage.

"Miststück. Werd dich jagen und du wirst um Gnade flehen. Meine Wut stirbt nie." The words hissed easily, even now as the blood began to drip from the sodden linen wrapping.

She didn't need another reason to fight and remind herself not to hold back. But it was so kind of the enemy to give one. Or, multiple. 

He glares, brown eyes having long since lost their warmth. The set of his jaw tightens, as does his grip on the handle of his concealed blade. He is not entirely certain why he has agreed to comply with this line of questioning, nor why anyone would care enough to ask.

"You're asking because of Chu-Hua, aren't you?" The teenager scoffs, sneering in disgust, "No. She earned it. It wasn't the hardest thing, killing her. If she had been worthy of living, she wouldn't have sold me out. Or, she would at least have done it well. Goes to show that she was a pretty face and a nice lay on the surface, and nothing but greedy and shortsighted under that."

His mouth snaps shut and he appears to contemplate the question a second time, tugging his hood closer over his head against the rain. When he speaks again, it isn't with the biting anger used previously. Rather, his voice is quiet, almost lost in the sound of rain on the prefab housing.

The little boy looks up, warm brown eyes alight under a mess of jet black hair. His mouth splits into a wide grin, flashing a mixture of baby teeth and gaps in their absence.