The lab was silent. Too silent.

Rainbow stood in the doorway, unmoving. Shepard’s body lay slumped over the workbench, a thin trail of dried blood along his temple. The faint smell of burnt circuits and ozone hung in the air—a failed experiment, or sabotage, Rainbow didn’t know.

He didn’t say a word.

He crossed the room slowly, the weight of his armor echoing in the hollow space. His heterochromatic eyes fixed on Shepard’s still face. It was wrong—Shep had always been moving, thinking, muttering to himself about theories no one else could understand.

Now there was only stillness.

Rainbow’s pale scarred hand trembled as it hovered over Shep’s shoulder, hesitating. He finally touched him—cold. Too cold.

He exhaled, long and shaky. He didn’t cry. He wouldn’t allow it.

Instead, he knelt beside the body, sword resting against the floor. From the hilt, he pulled out the tiny charm Shepard had once given him—a meaningless trinket to anyone else, but it had been Shepard’s way of saying stay alive.

Rainbow placed it gently in Shepard’s lifeless palm.

“Tu étais ma lumière…” he whispered, voice hoarse. You were my light.

Then he sat there, guarding the body like a sentinel, staring into the empty dark. He didn’t move until the sun came up, but even then, he felt no warmth.