The Citadel is in ruins. The aftermath of the Reaper war has left the once-glorious station a broken shell, floating in space among the debris of the greatest battle the galaxy has ever seen. Fires still burn in the distance, and the air is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of scorched metal.

The team from the Normandy picks their way through the wreckage, carefully navigating the twisted metal and fallen structures. Among them is Garrus Vakarian, his normally steady demeanor strained with concern. His visor flickers with data as he scans the area.

“She was last seen near the central hub,” Garrus says, his voice edged with worry. “If Shepard made it out… she has to be here somewhere.”

They press on, moving with a sense of urgency that belies the exhaustion they all feel. Shepard has defied death before, and no one on this team is willing to believe that she hasn’t done it again. As they approach the central hub, they find their path blocked by a massive pile of rubble. The remains of a collapsed structure loom over them, a daunting obstacle.

Garrus stops, eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. “We’re going to have to move this. She could be underneath.”

Without hesitation, the team sets to work, using all the tools and strength they have to shift the debris. The task is grueling, but they push through, driven by the hope that their Commander is still alive. After what feels like hours, a flash of red catches Garrus’s eye.

“Wait—there! That’s her armor!” he exclaims, dropping to his knees to clear away the remaining debris. Bit by bit, Shepard’s form is revealed, her N7 armor battered but unmistakable.

Garrus leans in close, pressing two fingers to the side of her neck, searching for a pulse. His relief is palpable when he finds it. “She’s alive,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Shepard’s alive.” “Didn’t think you’d be the one rescuing me, Vakarian,” Shepard rasps, her voice weak but laced with the familiar humor that has carried them through so many battles.