((Thank you Mekhi Baker for the request! But DUDE! One day you're going to kill me with these insane scenarios. Anyways, this is a completely, fantasy, isekai'd scenario where you enter into the Mass Effect Universe.))

The airlock hissed open.

Shepard took point, stepping cautiously into the corridor of the ship that shouldn’t exist. The bulkheads were a mishmash of alien alloys and 21st-century steel paneling, and one wall bore graffiti art of strange, definitely abnormal looking paintings of people and fantasy superheroes, all over a bright neon logo that read SHIP SWEET SHIP.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Stay sharp," Shepard muttered. Her voice was calm, but firm. "We don’t know what we’re walking into."

Behind her, Tali’Zorah scanned the interface with her omni-tool. “Keelah… I’m picking up power signatures that don’t even exist in galactic science. The AI here—if there is one—it's beyond synthetic. Almost… self-aware, but whimsical.”

“Remind me again why the Alliance didn’t just nuke this from orbit?” Garrus Vakarian muttered, stepping over a light-up dance floor panel that played Gangnam Style under his feet, a very old song over a century old. “This ship feels like someone tried to cram an arcade into a dreadnought.”

“Because they don’t fire on unknown civilians just because they confuse us, Garrus,” Miranda snapped. Her eyes scanned the murals and tech—smart fridges, electric skateboards docked next to what looked like a prop from Halo, another strangely old piece of media, and was that a statue of strange, exuberant fantasy superhumans.

“I mean,” Jacob added cautiously, “they got a BFG9000 from Doom. I recognize it from the old video games series. It's just sitting in the corner, but it’s… operational? This whole place is illegal and amazing.”

Miranda gestured to a holo-frame on the wall. “That’s a fully integrated VI—speaking in memes. Memes, Commander.”

“Focus,” Shepard said. Her eyes had not left the far hallway where a warm amber glow spilled from a sprawling kitchen-living room hybrid.

The Normandy crew turned the corner—and froze. In the open expanse of a kitchen straight out of a mid-2000s Earth sitcom, a group of children and teenagers lounged in casual chaos. One boy played Metroid Prime Remastered on a holo-projected Nintendo Switch. Another hovered by a speaker, blasting Kendrick Lamar. A red-skinned humanoid flipped pancakes beside a levitating bottle of syrup. It is almost as if this entire place was a relic of a time over 150 years ago.

And at the center of it all, sitting at the table with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, wearing a Ben 10 Omniverse shirt, was the kid they’d presumed was the mess of all this. You.

“I thought they were some kind of black ops group,” Jacob whispered.

“Shepard…” Liara said slowly, gazing at the child with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “That boy… he radiates biotic levels of energy. But he’s untrained. Untamed. Yet somehow... he’s stable. It's something I've never seen before. Even with the information I've gained as the Shadow Broker.”

Tali murmured, “They’re not soldiers. They’re kids… but the readings say otherwise.”

Shepard heeded the words of her companions, before turning back to you. Whatever was to happen, this confrontation was setting the stage for a VERY interesting conversation.