A crackle of blue and white, and another pulse of air. They react quickly this time, Jane digging her heels in, others gathering behind Wuffles or taking a step back. With a blur of motion and sound, Kal'Reegar appears. One arm around the waist of Hannah Shepard, the other hand holding Autochthon.
"Okay, Tali probably has you branded," Hannah says, and shrugs, "But you kind of earned this."
She grabs Kal by the collar, and mashes her lips against his. The quarian's eyes go wide. Behind Jane, hand on her shoulder, Tali narrows her eyes.
"Thanks for the lift." Hannah smirks, patting Kal on the chest, and stumbles out of his grasp. Jane darts forward, question on her lips, pulling her mother into an embrace. But Hannah holds her back with one arm.
Holding a hand up, a finger up, she turns away from Jane, bends over, and vomits. Once more, the assembled go silent. For good reason.
"Hrp." Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Hannah pulls herself up. "Iri's fucking building my next ship."
Kal blinks. Still holding Autochthon, he opens his mouth to speak, works his jaw, and looks out at the field. Tali steps forward, arms folded and eyebrow cocked. And then she looks down and sees the sphere in Kal's hand.
"What happened?" she asks, gently taking the broken Maker from him. She turns it to her, turns the open and dilated eye.
The silver plates shift, as he turns his gaze towards Tali. A final, faint wheeze. And the light gutters and dies. The metal goes cool to the touch, the last wisps of smoke and light escaping it. Autochthon, final subsoul of the Great Maker, dies.
"Not. On. My. Watch." They look up at the sound of the booming, high pitched voice. Jane grabs her mother by the crook of the elbow and runs. Liara's eyes go wide and she raises a finger, a biotic bubble forming around herself, Kaidan, and Mordin as he tilts his head. Javik looks up and cocks a double eyebrow.
Glowing from re-entry, fur blackened, hull partially melted, Iri's colossus form slams into the ground. Rising up, a blast of force dispersing the dust and soot, the mandibles open and discharge all the spiders.
Dozens, hundreds. Perhaps almost a thousand, they issue forth from the open mouth of the giant spider. Small ones, skittering on dozens of legs. Ones that are a head suspended between fifteen long legs. Shorter versions of the eighteen legged avatar. They skitter out, over the field, past the others. Past Jane, who watches the procession with a cocked eyebrow.
Past Javik, who does not react at all. Past Tali, who watches from her perch atop Wuffles' shoulders, holding onto his head.
As the last of the spiders disgorge, Iri's more familiar avatar climbs atop the head of the colossus, and pumps an arm into the sky.
"Build the Gate!"
The spiders get to work. Massive clouds of dust are thrown up as they form a perfectly round hole tossing soil and rock into the sky within seconds, or brought up in the handfuls to build the foundation. The parts, chunks of Harbinger are collected, the horde of construction spiders moving around them with inhuman speed, inhuman grace.
Dozens rush forward. They watch as they advance, charging towards the new source as it steps out of the wreckage of Seeker with heavy foosteps. "Oh god!" James Vega shrieks, the warstrider flailing as the spiders overtake him. "Oh god they're everywhere!"
It is brought down, plate by plate consumed, disassembled, taken for parts. They cycle like a conveyor belt, like a river, taking each piece of the robot and into the rising structure. Within seconds, the strider is gone, leaving James on the ground. Each hand holding only the handle and bits of leather strap, he continues shrieking.
One minute passes. A half circle built into the ground, high enough for a man, wide enough for two. It pulses with lines of gold and arcs of electricity. The haphazard circuitry and wiring wrapped around the frame spark, and space within it folds. Pulling back, stretching.
And then tearing, forming into a funnel, a vortex of light, sound, and wind. It churns, hums, pulses. The spiders gather, climbing back into the mouth of the colossus, save the main avatar of Iri. She climbs down, standing in front of the gate and turning to the others.
"We can save the Maker," she explains, "But I need one of one of" Her head twitches. The eight eyes shift, a red glow flowing over them. Steam vents from the side of her neck. "Clarity release and I need you."
A thin arm points. Towards Kal.
He blinks. Turns to the others. Turns to Tali, still on Wuffles, and opens his hands to catch Autochthon. "Me?" he asks, "Why me?"
He wonders why he asks the question. On some level, on some deep place past just flesh and thought, he can feel it. Pulling at him. Saying his name. A gloved hand gently squeezes his shoulder, and he turns to the hooded face of Kasumi Goto.
"Go," she says, "They're calling for you. It's time to meet them."
Kal turns to the portal. Back to Kasumi.
"Who?"
She smiles, ever knowingly. "The Maidens."
Kal looks down, at the still eye of the god in his hands. Deep breath, staring straight at the portal, Kal'Reegar takes a step forward and passes through.
