HagarIshay wrote...
gunslinger_ruiz wrote...
Not sure what you mean, can never understand the whispers/voices clearly can only guess what they say. The presence of the Nightmare-whispers during the The Illusive Man-Anderson-Citadel conversation is the odd part about it.
Shepard is not indoctrinated yet, the ending sequence would be the Indoctrination Attempt being played out in Shepard's mind/our perspective. If Shepard is successfully indoctrinated I'm sure we'll see all of the symptoms after the fact but for now we have our speculation.
The Catalyst we see can definitely be a hyper-advanced AI controlling the reapers, yes, but it's the fact that it yanks the image of the boy Shepard failed to save from his/her mind and uses it as well the boys voice and male/female Shepards. If it can take things out of Shepard's mind, what's to stop it from putting ideas in? Example, the flash forwards of Anderson picking Destroy and TIM picking control. The whole exchange is...odd.
Exactly. In the book retrubution, Grayson needed to hear the voices clearly and understand what they mean. Only then he became indoctrinated. Shepard didn't not need to understand the voices to be controlled. Thus, TIM didn't control through indoctrination, or at least the same indoctrination.
If Shepard was not indoctrinated when TIM controlled her, then TIM didn't control thourgh indoc. That was my point.
Javik can read minds thourgh mere touch. The prothean VIs Learned Shepard's languge by simply her being there. Obviously the catalyst is more advanced than protheans.
No, that's not when you become indoctriated nor whe he did. After he became indoctrinated he could sense the reapers not understand what they were saying his will didn't change. He STILL FOUGHT BACK AFTER HE WAS INDOCTRIANTED..I'll post it...
When Grayson woke up, he was horrified to discover he was a prisoner in his own body. He couldsee and hear everything around him, but it seemed surreal, almost as if he was watching a projection on avid screen with the volume and brightness set way too high.He rolled over in the cot, spun to put his feet on the floor, stood up, and began to pace restlesslyabout the cell—but none of these actions came from his own volition. His body refused to respond to hiscommands; he was powerless to control his own actions. He had become a meat puppet, an instrumentof Reaper will.He briefly registered the fact that his crippled knee had somehow repaired itself overnight. Then hiseyes flickered downward, giving him a glimpse of his body, and his mind recoiled in disgust.He was being transformed. Repurposed. The implants in his brain had spread throughout his body.The self-replicating Reaper nanotechnology had woven itself into his muscles, sinews, and nerves,transforming him into a monstrous hybrid of synthetic and organic life. His flesh had become stretchedand semitranslucent. Beneath it he could see thin flexible tubes winding along the length of his limbs.Flickers of red and blue light pulsed along the tubes, the illumination bright enough to be visible throughhis opaque skin.Even though he was no longer in control of his body, he could feel that the cybernetics had made himboth faster and stronger. He was more aware of his surroundings; his senses were heightened to asupernatural level. The melding of man and machine had created a being that was physically superior toany evolutionary design.But that wasn’t the only change. He was also developing rudimentary biotic abilities beyond thosetemporarily granted by dosing up with red sand. He could sense his Reaper masters pushing and probing,eager to test the limits of his weak but ever-growing power.
(Page 59). The Reapers turned his body to face the shelf of provisions. Inside he felt a buildup of energy, like astatic charge increased a thousandfold. His hand rose, palm extended toward the ration kits. There was asudden jolt along the length of his arm, strong enough to send a flare of pain shooting up to Grayson’shelpless consciousness.The neat pile of carefully stacked rations was blown apart by the impact of a biotic push. Boxes shotup into the air, bouncing off the shelves and wall before clattering onto the floor.It was hardly an impressive display. Grayson had seen his own daughter lift a thousand-kilogram pieceof machinery and use it to crush a pair of Cerberus agents. The scattered ration packs weighed less thana kilogram each, and the impact hadn’t even been powerful enough to burst the seals keeping the foodinside fresh. But he knew his power would continue to grow, and he sensed the Reapers were pleased.Grayson lowered his arm, and it took him a full second before the significance of the action struck him.He had lowered his arm; not the Reapers—him!The biotic display must have temporarily weakened their control of his body. Recognizing that theirdomination of his will was not yet absolute was all the encouragement he needed to fight back.The whispers in his head grew to an angry roar as Grayson struggled to regain control of his physicalform. He shut them out, ignoring them as he focused all his energy on the simple act of taking a singlestep.His left foot rose in response, moving forward half a foot before coming back down to the floor. Thenhis right foot followed suit, setting off a chain reaction in Grayson’s body. He could literally feel eachindividual muscle tighten, then relax, as his mind reasserted its dominion over what was rightfully his.As he came back to himself, his body began to tremble. His mouth felt dry, his skin itchy. Herecognized the classic symptoms of withdrawal. The hit of red sand was wearing off, allowing him toregain his focus and concentration, his most valuable weapons against the aliens inside his head.
(Page 60).
The Reapers were mounting a counterassault: pushing in on his thoughts, trying to twist and bend themto their control. But Grayson refused to surrender what he had fought so hard to regain. It was a battle tosave his very identity, and he was winning!He felt a rush of elation and adrenaline … and something else. He barely had time to realize what itwas before the warmth of another dose of red sand swept over him.His head began to swim in an ocean of narcotic bliss, and the Reapers seized the opportunity to wrestcontrol of his body away from him.Helpless, he could only watch from within as his body walked over to the cot and lay back down onthe bed. Lying there in a dust storm fugue, he struggled to understand what had just happened. Therewas only one explanation that made any sense.Cerberus was still watching him. Studying him. They knew he was resisting the Reapers; they haddosed him with concentrated red sand to weaken his resolve. Sometime during his previous high theymust have surgically implanted a device to allow them to remotely administer doses of the drug to keephim in a perpetual state of intoxication.It wouldn’t have been hard; a small radio-controlled dispenser under the skin that released the sanddirectly into his bloodstream would do the trick. At a soluble mixture of near one hundred percentconcentration, it would take only a few drops to send him flying each time. Eventually the supply in thedispenser would run out, but that didn’t give him hope: he knew Cerberus would just refill it.His eyes closed, shutting out the world. The Reapers needed him to rest; the transformation was still inprogress. They needed him to sleep, and so he did.
(Page 60).