The planet had been dying for a long time. It took mere months after the Reapers attacked before they would pull away again, leaving it a barren waste. The once tall cities lied in crumbles, disarray. Husks were all that remained, wandering through the debris as if on patrol, trying to find those last struggling survivors and put them out of their misery.

Thane was not quite ready for that. He was not going to let Reapers be the reason he dies -- certainly not husks. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared for death. Once his Keplar’s Syndrome showed, he knew his time was limited. Far before that, even. Only a fool thought they’d live forever; only a fool would wish to.

Still, it was not yet his time. He would succumb, but today was not that day. So, he did what he could; he helped those who did survive the attack. By now, he was on patrol, out of the safety of the bunker he, his son, and a few others had gathered in. It was safest for him to do the runs. He knew how to be silent, how to move without being seen, and in a world overrun by husks, that was a vital skill to have.