The cycle continues. Each civilization brings change, yet the works of our kind are eternal.

  Omega was known for the haphazard, piecemeal way it had been constructed. Most believed that it had been carved from the heart of an ancient asteroid by the Protheans eons ago, but over the centuries any number of species had left their mark on it. Its discordant style gave it an almost random feel. And though it had never bothered him before, for some reason he now found the chaos offensive on a deep philosophical level.

  But while the overall effect filled him with revulsion, each individual element he examined during his trek caused him to react with amusement. It reminded him of the ant farm he had as a child. The insects had worked with slavish dedication to build their network of tunnels, shaping and altering the tiny glass case that encompassed the entirety of their existence. He had observed them through the glass as they worked, industrious and relentless, completely oblivious of their own insignificance in the grand design of the universe.

  He was nearing the warehouse district. Soon he would see Kahlee again. Just thinking of her caused his pulse, and his pace, to quicken. The walk felt effortless, as if he were being carried along by some invisible force. It felt different than when the Reapers had taken control of his body, however. Then he had been distanced from himself, a passive observer. Now he felt fully engaged in the process of putting one foot in front of the other to propel himself along. It just didn’t seem to require any effort. It was almost as if someone was helping him.

  A symbiotic relationship.

  Grayson pulled up short, his calm, relaxed demeanor swallowed up by a dark cloud of suspicion. He tried to turn around and head back the way he came, but his legs suddenly felt heavy and awkward. He managed only ten steps before he was doubled over and gasping for breath. His own body was fighting him; resisting him.

  The horrifying truth slowly dawned on him. The alien technology had become so deeply embedded into his body and mind that the Reapers were now an inextricable part of him. When he had been heading toward Kahlee they had been working in unison, parasite and host united in a common goal. Their insidious influence had burrowed so deep into the fiber of his being that he had not only been unable to resist their will, he had actively been helping them achieve their end.

  “No,” he shouted out, harsh and defiant. “I won’t take you to her!”

  He braced himself for the inevitable surge of pain as the aliens fought to bend him to their will. Instead, he felt nothing. The lack of opposition confused him. He knew they were still present; the wires and tubes protruding from his joints and crisscrossing beneath his flesh confirmed that beyond any doubt. But they had become invisible. He no longer processed them as other; they were part of him now, inseparable and indistinguishable from his own identity.

  That’s a good thing. Influence can work both ways.

  A crazy idea began to form in his mind. If the Reaper technology was part of him now, maybe that meant he would be able to influence and control it the same way the Reapers had controlled his body earlier. Maybe he could draw on the cybernetic enhancements and his newfound biotic abilities whenever he wanted to. Maybe he could use them as tools to achieve his own goals.

  You are superior to the pathetic beings of flesh that surround you.

  The implications were staggering. Liberating. He had transcended the slow, laborious process of natural selection. He had broken free of the cycle of passing randomly mutated genes down from one generation to the next with the slim hope of gaining some minuscule natural advantage. He himself was changing, quickly and with purpose. He was evolving toward a perfect being.

  Do not hide what you have become. Reveal your glory.

  He had been afraid to see Kahlee because of what she might think of him. He looked strange. Different. But she was a scientist; she would understand and appreciate what was happening to him. She would see how he had been improved. Repurposed. She would admire him. Adore him.

  Spinning on his heel, he set off once more toward the warehouse district, eagerly anticipating the meeting he had been defiantly refusing to go to only minutes before.

  Kai Leng sat on the couch of the small room he had rented two nights before, staring intently at the image on his monitor as he absentmindedly spooned his dinner into his mouth. The monitor was linked to a surveillance camera pointed at the back wall of Afterlife.

  His accommodations were less than a block away from the club; a run-down, ramshackle building converted into a pay-by-the-hour motel by an enterprising volus. It was primarily used by patrons of the club looking for a quick hookup who couldn’t afford to rent one of Afterlife’s private suites.

  The room was poorly lit, and it reeked of what Kai Leng assumed was a mixture of alien sweat and vomit. But it was close enough to the club that he could maintain his vigil yet still have time to react if he saw anything.

  The image on the monitor hadn’t changed. He knew that what appeared to be a solid wall was, in fact, a well-disguised secret door leading to the private rooms in the back of the club. The wide-angle lens on the surveillance camera showed that the narrow alley was completely deserted; unlike the crowded doors out front, this hidden entrance was apparently known only to those who served in Aria’s inner circle.

  The Illusive Man had instructed him to keep an eye on Aria’s people to verify they actually delivered on their promise to eliminate Grayson. With no other resources, it was impossible for Kai Leng to keep track of everyone in the organization. So he had initially decided to focus on Sanak, Aria’s batarian lieutenant.

  A less experienced agent might have tried to tail Aria herself. But the risk of being noticed was too great, and Kai Leng knew she wasn’t going to put herself at risk by meeting Grayson face-to-face. Besides, she almost never left the club.

  Sanak seemed the next logical choice, given what the Illusive Man had ascertained about his role in Aria’s organization through a few discreet inquiries. The batarian was her attack dog, a blunt instrument. Whenever a situation called for violence or brute force, he would be her first choice.

  Kai Leng’s instincts had served him well. Three days ago Sanak had left the club through the VIP entrance out front. Kai Leng had tailed him as he gathered a squad of heavily armed mercenaries and boarded a ship. When the ship returned the next day, Sanak and the mercenaries weren’t alone: Kahlee Sanders and Admiral David Anderson, one of the Alliance’s most decorated soldiers, were with them.

  It was immediately obvious the humans were prisoners and not guests. He could see the handcuffs on their unconscious bodies as they were carried by Aria’s massive krogan bodyguard, one tossed over each shoulder.

  Kai Leng had followed at a distance as Sanak’s crew had taken the hostages back to Afterlife. They stuck to the unused back alleys to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Upon reaching the club they had used the secret back entrance instead of going in the front, inadvertently revealing its existence to the inconspicuous shadow that had been following them the entire time.

  So far everything was going according to the Illusive Man’s plan—they had captured Sanders, and now they were using her as bait to lure Grayson in. Kai Leng estimated he had at least a day before the meeting would take place; wherever Grayson was, it would take time to contact him and set up the location. That gave him time to purchase the surveillance equipment, set up the camera on the back entrance, rent the repulsive room just down the street, and stock up on food and water in preparation for his vigil.

  The wireless monitor was portable; when Kai Leng needed to use the bathroom, he brought it with him so he wouldn’t miss anything. It was also set up to beep if the camera detected motion, allowing Kai Leng to grab a few sporadic hours of sleep as he waited. He never slept well or for very long, however. He didn’t fully trust the merchant who’d sold him the equipment, and in the back of his mind he was worried it might simply short out while he was dozing.

  He wasn’t about to let that happen. Not when things seemed to be drawing to their conclusion.

  Aria’s people had brought Kahlee in through the back entrance; he had no doubt they would bring her out the same way when the meeting with Grayson drew near. All he had to do now was watch and wait.

  Anderson knew the time was drawing near.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked Kahlee.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “We’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Just stick to the plan.”

  They’d talked it over after Aria left them alone, and had agreed they had to stick together if they wanted to get out of this alive. Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to let them take Kahlee away to meet Grayson alone.

  He took a deep breath to center himself, forcing his pounding heart to throttle itself back through sheer force of will.

  A few minutes later the door whisked open and Sanak came marching in. Anderson hadn’t been expecting him to be the one sent to retrieve Kahlee, but it didn’t change anything. In fact, it might actually work in their favor.

  A pair of krogan stepped into the room right behind him, weapons drawn in case the prisoners tried anything.

  “Time to go,” Sanak snapped. “Move.”

  Kahlee crossed her arms defiantly, careful not to bend her splinted fingers. Anderson did the same.

  “We go together or I don’t go,” she said.

  Sanak whipped out his pistol and stepped forward, jamming the barrel into Kahlee’s forehead.

  “He stays here. You come with me now, or you die.”

  “You won’t kill me,” she said, her voice calm and certain. “You need me for this meeting.”

  The batarian tilted his head to the right, an instinctive display of his contempt and frustration. Then he turned and pointed his gun at Anderson.

  “We don’t need him for the meeting,” he warned her. “Come with me or I splatter his brains all over the floor.”

  “No you won’t,” Anderson declared. “Grayson’s going to be suspicious. He’s going to scout the location out; he won’t reveal himself until he sees Kahlee. And if he senses something’s wrong, he’ll bolt.

  “You need my cooperation to pull this off,” Kahlee insisted. “Harm Anderson in any way, and you won’t get it.”

  Anderson could see Sanak’s mind churning. Aria would no doubt have emphasized the importance of getting Kahlee to the meeting; the batarian was trying to figure out a way to follow his orders without letting the prisoners dictate any terms.

  “You have two options,” Kahlee explained slowly. “One, David comes with me and we all go to meet Grayson. Two, you try to stop him from coming and the meeting doesn’t happen.”

  “Then you get to explain to Aria how you blew this mission,” Anderson added.

  He suspected the lieutenant was good at following orders. He hoped he wasn’t as good at improvising. Their gamble hinged on it.

  Sanak let his pistol drop. He glared at them, then snapped it back into the clip on his thigh.

  “If either of you try anything on the way, I’ll kill you both,” he warned.

  NINETEEN

  Kai Leng’s monitor beeped its warning to indicate the camera had detected movement, but the alert wasn’t necessary. He was already watching the screen intently as Sanders, Anderson, Sanak, and a pair of krogan guards emerged from Afterlife.

  Grabbing his pistol and knife, he rushed out the door of the tiny rented room. He didn’t bother to pack up the surveillance equipment. He didn’t care if the next guest stumbled across it; he would have no further use for it after this meeting.

  Ignoring the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time. He reached ground level and burst through the door out onto the street. Racing around the corner, he managed to catch his quarry just as they reached the intersection where the alley behind Afterlife joined up with the main thoroughfare.

  To the casual eye they would have appeared to be nothing more than a group walking a little too closely together, but Kai Leng knew different. Sanak led the way, an assault rifle strapped to his back and a pistol on his hip. Anderson and Sanders followed, both unarmed. The two krogan brought up the rear, also carrying assault rifles. Unlike Sanak, however, the krogan had their weapons out, casually cradling them in their arms as they marched.

  Keeping a safe distance behind, Kail Leng followed them as they wound their way through the business and residential sections of Omega’s central district. Eventually the shops and homes gave way to warehouses as they reached a dimly lit industrial area.

  They passed several nondescript two- and three-story buildings before disappearing inside the warehouse at the end of the block. Even through the gloom of the street, Kai Leng could see that the windows had been shuttered or painted over to hide whatever activities were going on inside.

  He found a spot just inside the arch of a doorway in one of the nearby buildings that hid him from view, yet gave him a clean line of sight down both directions of the street. He settled in to wait for Grayson. An hour later, he arrived.

  His appearance hadn’t changed much from when Kai Leng had last seen him. The stubble on his head was a little longer; his beard a little more ragged; his synthetic upgrades slightly more noticeable. Despite the ill-fitting clothes covering up most of his exposed flesh, the tubes winding from his neck up into his skull were hard to miss. And it was possible to see the glowing, pulsating wires and circuits beneath the taut, almost translucent skin of his cheeks and hands.

  The Illusive Man had warned him not to confront Grayson unless absolutely necessary. He was no longer the man Kai Leng had so easily beaten and then drugged in his prison cell; he had become something far more powerful. The plan was to let Aria’s people do the dirty work; he was just here to report back in case something went wrong.

  Even without the warning, Kai Leng would have sensed something different about him. Grayson moved with a fluid grace he hadn’t possessed before. He had the sharp bearing of a predator now, a hunter on the prowl.

  He passed less than five meters away from where Kai Leng was hiding. Though it was dark, the assassin instinctively pressed himself deeper into the shadows to avoid being noticed. Grayson passed by without seeing him and continued on to the warehouse at the end of the street.

  He stopped a few meters before the door and paused, his head moving from side to side as if he was studying the building. He seemed suspicious, as if he sensed it was a trap.

  Kai Leng held his breath, praying he would step inside.

  Grayson made his way quickly down the dark row of buildings. Despite the low light, his augmented vision allowed him to see clearly. He noticed a lone figure lurking inside the doorway of a building as he passed, but dismissed him as irrelevant. He was here to meet Kahlee; nothing else mattered.

  When he reached the entrance of the building bearing the address she had given him, however, Grayson hesitated, suddenly wary. Why had Kahlee chosen this remote location for their rendezvous? Why hadn’t she wanted to meet him somewhere more public? Her message said she was in trouble; maybe she was too scared to show up anywhere else.

  It could be a trap. Is Sanders loyal? Can she be trusted?

  He shook his head, dispelling the ridiculous notion that Kahlee might betray him. She had risked so much to help him and Gillian escape Cerberus. She’d put her career and her life on the line for them, risking everything to help Grayson save his daughter.

  Gillian.

  Gillian was safe now; not even the Illusive Man could find her aboard the quarian deep-space exploration vessel. Memories of the daughter he hadn’t seen in over two years came flooding back to him: the way she smiled; the ways she spoke. Gillian was special—she had an autistic condition that had made it difficult for her to communicate. Despite her incredible potential, she had lagged behind the other children of the Ascension Project.

  Ascension Project.

  The goal of the Ascension Project was to help biotic human children control and even master their latent abilities. Kahlee had made a special effort to help Gillian, giving her personal instruction above and beyond what the other students had received.

  Biotic children.

  He didn’t know much about the other students. During Gillian’s time in the program he had visited her only once or twice a year, as per the Illusive Man’s orders. But he was certain Kahlee would have taken a personal interest in every student at the Grissom Academy. Knowing her, she would have memorized every—

  Grayson forced his mind to a sudden, screeching halt as the truth dawned on him. The Reapers had grown stronger. The connection between them and him had deepened. His very thoughts had become exposed. They were sifting through his memories, picking through his knowledge piece by piece. And they suddenly seemed very interested in Kahlee and her role in the Ascension Project.

  Terrified, he tried to turn and run. He had to get as far away from Kahlee as possible. In response, the will of his enemy came crashing down on him. He struggled to resist, but the Reapers would not be denied.

  They forced him to march forward. Step by step he drew ever nearer to the door, until he was close enough to reach out his hand and tap the access panel.

  Grayson fought against them, drawing on the mental tricks he had used to resist them in the past. But it was all in vain. The Reapers had grown far stronger than he’d realized. They’d been lying in wait, manipulating him instead of dominating him to hide their true power.

  The door slid open and Grayson stepped into the dimly lit warehouse. He saw Kahlee standing in the middle of the room, her expression a mix of revulsion and pity when she saw his appearance.

  “Oh, Grayson,” she said, nearly breaking into tears.

  But while his attention was focused completely on her, the Reapers were acutely aware of everything around them. Kahlee was not alone—at least a dozen armed individuals were scattered around the perimeter.

  Adrenaline surged through him as his puppet-masters recognized they had been lured into a trap, and Grayson knew hell was about to be unleashed.