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[i]Well, Nightmare may or may not be dead, if he's alive he is hiding extremely well. But from what I've been able to gather, he will attack this ship if he is alive.[/i] Tara sighs. "Yeah, that's great."
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"We could match him." [b]Fenrir glances around again.[/b] "I wonder...did anyone else make it over besides you and Wheatley?"
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"Me..." [b]a voice from behind him says, still vaguely familiar. Shepard steps out of a nearby corridor, missing his mask. A massive scar across his face and neck tells the tale of his "death"[/b]
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[b]Fenrir stands still. He stares at Shephard, unable to move. After a few minutes he whispers, barely audible over the surrounding crowd.[/b] "You're dead."
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"Yes I am..." [b]he barely maintains a strait face for a second befor shifting into azazael and bursting into laughter[/b]
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[b]Fenrir slaps him. Hard.[/b] "What the f*ck is wrong with you people?! First Wheatley, now you?!"
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[b]he keeps laughing, Wheatley does the same[/b] "Relax man, your all inhumorous.
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She pauses, a tear forming in her eye. "No, I'm afraid not. I wasn't fast enough..."
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[b]Fenrir places his hand on her shoulder.[/b] "Look at me. It is not your fault." [b]He lowers himself to look in her eyes.[/b] "Tara. It is not your fault."
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"If I had been faster he wouldn't have been able to kill everyone!" She begins to cry.
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"Tara. If you had been faster, you would've torn yourself apart. Then he [i]really[/i] would have killed everyone. Don't blame yourself. No one else does."
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She sniffles. "Even as the holy flames devoured him the twelfth time, he laughed at their corpses." Her hands begin to shake.
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[b]He holds them still, then moves one hand down, and opens the other. He reaches into a compartment in his suit, and pulls out a match, placing it in her hand.[/b] "If you ever need help, or just need to talk to someone, light it. I will be there if I still live."
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She takes the match. "Thank you."
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She takes it and nods.