Ieldra2 wrote...
@dreman:
And you have no proof that Control and Synthesis means anything else but what *I* say. That's sort of the point, isn't it?
Control uploads Shepard's mind while destroying their body and lets them control the Reapers, taking the place of the Catalyst. That's easily the most obvious interpretation. What happens after that is 100% in the players' imagination. Anything is possible between Shepard flying the Reapers into a black hole and Shepard continuing the cycle. It is not for you to say what Shepard will do in others' games or in which way they begin to think like the Reapers or not. It is 100% invention!
Synthesis combines synthetics and organics in some unspecified way. Nothing else is said. There is absolutely nothing to indicate that "the Reapers are in charge". In fact, the ending sequence pretty much invalidates that claim. Of course IT supporters will deny that this is real, but that's all that it is: denial. 100% invention. Again, it is not for you to say what happens in others' games unless the game actually shows what happens. And nothing that actually shows up supports your claim.
Please, I have the entire lore to prove that
Control and Synthesis means what I say.
I can just end this conversation with saying"A race of machines with a history of deception"...But I'll add a bit more....
Had Grayson been in control of his body, he probably would have thrown up in reaction to the brutalassault. As it was, however, the Reapers kept him from having any physical reaction at all.The most horrifying part was the cold, efficient way the savage attack had been planned and carriedout. Grayson had sensed no anger or rage on the part of the Reapers as they had used him as aninstrument of wanton slaughter. The massacre wasn’t motivated by hate or even a sadistic desire todestroy organic life. The Reapers had analyzed the situation, determined a course of action, and followedit without any emotion whatsoever.This, more than anything else, terrified their human host. It seemed to symbolize an inevitability aboutthe Reapers, as if nothing could stop their relentless, passionless pursuit of their goal.Once all the bodies were secured in the airlock, the Reapers had Grayson take a seat in the pilot’schair. Using his good hand, they punched in a series of commands that first disabled the vessel’stransponder, then brought them out of FTL travel.Grayson was an experienced pilot, but he had never been trained on a turian vessel. Alone, heprobably could have fumbled through the process, but the Reapers moved with precision and certainty.They had an intimate knowledge of turian technology, and he could think of only one reasonableexplanation.The Reapers were gathering knowledge about him and his environment, recording everything theycame into contact with. He didn’t know how many of the aliens were in his head; sometimes it felt like asingle entity, other times it felt like billions of individuals. In either case, however, it wasn’t unreasonableto assume they shared whatever information they collected with others of their kind. Following this trainof thought, if the Reapers had ever possessed a turian in the past for a long period of time, they couldhave learned virtually everything there was to know about that species. And now they were usingGrayson to learn all they could about humanity.The Reapers hit the eject button on the airlock, jettisoning the bodies into the cold vacuum of space.Then they plotted a new course—too quickly for Grayson to catch the final destination—and made thejump to light speed again. Finally, despite his heroic struggle to oppose their will, the Reapers closed hiseyes and made him fall asleep.
(Page 72). ME:retribution...
He didn’t know what the Reapers wanted. Their persistent presence in his mind gave him no insightinto their ultimate goal. But whatever it was, he was determined to stop it.Suicide was the quickest solution, of course. End his life now, and the threat would be eliminated. Theeasiest way would be to end it with a single shot to the head, but the Reapers had jettisoned the turians’weapons along with their bodies. He wondered if this was just coincidence, or if they had done this inanticipation of his reaction.There were other options available to him, though. He got up and made his way over to the emergencykit in the back of the shuttle.Something is wrong.The Reapers sensed the changes in the brain waves of their host through the synthetic networkmonitoring his mental activity. They recognized the pattern flashing through his synapses: hopelessness;self-destruction. They had lost a vessel once before like this. This time they were prepared.Grayson opened the metal emergency kit and examined the contents. There was medi-gel; a massiveoverdose could put him into a coma from which he might never wake. But would that even stop theReapers? Or would they simply animate his flesh and send him stumbling around like some kind ofzombie?Dismissing the drugs, Grayson let his eyes fall on the next available option: the emergency kit’s long,jagged utility knife. But it couldn’t be a simple slit on the wrist; the incredible healing properties of his ownflesh would betray him. He would have to slash his throat, making a cut so deep he bled out before theReapers even realized what was happening.
The avatar cannot be allowed to harm itself.The Reapers understood that Grayson had grown more resistant to their overt attempts to control him;his mind was adapting, developing new ways to protect itself from their domination. But there were otherforms of control.Tapping into his body’s unconscious systems, the Reapers increased the levels of hormones beingreleased into Grayson’s system even as they subtly manipulated the electrical impulses in the brain to alterhis emotional state.Grayson’s heart began to pound. He tried not to think about what he was going to do in case he losthis nerve. As he picked up the knife, his hands were shaking. He raised the trembling blade to his throatand closed his eyes.A bizarre mix of emotions flooded through him. He’d expected to feel fear, and there was plenty ofthat. But he also felt an odd sense of hope and elation. He felt inexplicably energized. Defiant.Triumphant!He tossed the blade back into the kit and opened his eyes. He refused to end it like this. Suicide wasthe coward’s way out. He was better than that.
(Page 88). (Page 89). ME:retribution
Grayson’s fingers moved deftly over the controls of the turian vessel, bringing it in to dock with one ofOmega’s many landing ports. He was surprised by how easily he had picked up the feel of the alienvessel; it almost felt like he had piloted turian shuttles thousands of times before.The meeting with Kahlee was at a warehouse in a district firmly under Aria T’Loak’s thumb. Graysondidn’t know if that was good or bad, however. Had Kahlee somehow become involved with Aria, orwas it just random chance? The odds of any given location on Omega somehow being connected withthe Pirate Queen were fairly high. She had direct control of at least a third of the station, and anotherthird was held by various factions loyal to or affiliated with her organization in some way.Aria is powerful. A threat. Avoid if possible.Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. He didn’t know how Aria would react to his disappearance andLiselle’s death. Rather than take a chance he chose to touch down at one of the rare Omega ports thatdidn’t pay her tribute.From there it was a long walk to the rendezvous, but he covered the distance quickly. Though he wasn’t running, Omega’s landmarks rolled by quickly as he made his way through the labyrinthine streets.After several minutes he noted with surprise that, despite the brisk pace, he wasn’t even breathing hard.He would have made even better time if he wasn’t constantly slowing down to study various structuraland architectural features of the station. He had seen it all before, of course, but he almost felt like he waslooking at it through fresh eyes: taking every detail and comparing it against some half-rememberedblueprint he didn’t actually ever remember seeing.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 ithad been carved from the heart of an ancient asteroid by the Protheans eons ago, but over the centuriesany number of species had left their mark on it. Its discordant style gave it an almost random feel. Andthough it had never bothered him before, for some reason he now found the chaos offensive on a deepphilosophical level.But while the overall effect filled him with revulsion, each individual element he examined during histrek caused him to react with amusement. It reminded him of the ant farm he had as a child. The insectshad worked with slavish dedication to build their network of tunnels, shaping and altering the tiny glasscase that encompassed the entirety of their existence. He had observed them through the glass as theyworked, industrious and relentless, completely oblivious of their own insignificance in the grand design ofthe universe.He was nearing the warehouse district. Soon he would see Kahlee again. Just thinking of her causedhis pulse, and his pace, to quicken. The walk felt effortless, as if he were being carried along by someinvisible force. It felt different than when the Reapers had taken control of his body, however. Then hehad been distanced from himself, a passive observer. Now he felt fully engaged in the process of puttingone foot in front of the other to propel himself along. It just didn’t seem to require any effort. It wasalmost 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. Hetried to turn around and head back the way he came, but his legs suddenly felt heavy and awkward. Hemanaged only ten steps before he was doubled over and gasping for breath. His own body was fightinghim; resisting him.The horrifying truth slowly dawned on him. The alien technology had become so deeply embeddedinto his body and mind that the Reapers were now an inextricable part of him. When he had beenheading 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 beenunable to resist their will, he had actively been helping them achieve their end.
(Page 101). ME:retribution.
“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 tubesprotruding from his joints and crisscrossing beneath his flesh confirmed that beyond any doubt. But theyhad become invisible. He no longer processed them as other; they were part of him now, inseparableand 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 thatmeant he would be able to influence and control it the same way the Reapers had controlled his bodyearlier. Maybe he could draw on the cybernetic enhancements and his newfound biotic abilities wheneverhe 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 ofnatural selection. He had broken free of the cycle of passing randomly mutated genes down from onegeneration to the next with the slim hope of gaining some minuscule natural advantage. He himself waschanging, 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. Shewould 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 themeeting he had been defiantly refusing to go to only minutes before.
(Page 102). ME:RETRIBUTION
..........You want that inside everyone?As SHepard said in ME1...."You let them implant you!? Are you insane!?"
Modifié par dreman9999, 17 mai 2012 - 04:57 .
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