Orbs - Only the chosen can use it

Javik frowned, a strange expression on his alien features. "During our cycle, when my people sought any weapon we could find against the Reapers, an archaeologist uncovered this relic in the ruins of a dead civilization. Some of our top scientists searched what little historic records we could find for its purpose, but the best we could come up with was that it summoned... some sort of champion."

Shepard frowned, staring down at the orb as if trying to see through its obfuscating smoke. Something was inside there, something that responded to its gaze and made the smoke shift ever so slightly in response to their vision.

"There was a stipulation, however," Javik continued. "The champion only accepted those who were worthy. We brought before it all of our mightiest warriors, our most brilliant scientists and engineers, our most powerful and wise leaders, each in turn testing their mettle... but none were found worthy. The champion never came. My people died without knowing what this could have done for them." He paused, just for the span of a breath, then turned his attention to Shepard. "But what if there is someone in this time who is worthy?"

Shepard had remained silent while Javik spoke, and continued to do so for a moment after. They watched as Javik placed the orb on the table again, and for the slightest moment, Shepard felt something in the orb... pull at them. Beckon to them, like a near-silent whisper, a gentle tug at the tip of a finger. A curiosity left unchecked. "You're suggesting we find someone worthy, try to summon the champion, and hope they can stop the Reapers for us?"

Javik's voice was unwavering. "I am suggesting that you, of every individual in every species in this doomed galaxy, are the most likely in your cycle to be worthy."

"You think-" Shepard began, about to argue against the ludicrous claim, but something about the gravity in Javik's voice gave them pause. What if he was right? What if this was the galaxy's best chance, hidden away for thousands upon thousands of years? Shepard went to reach for the orb and realized they were already holding it, without even realizing it. It felt... lighter than expected, radiating a gentle warmth through a shell that seemed as though it could be destroyed by a light breeze. "...It's so fragile," Shepard commented.

Javik seemed surprised. "Our scientists attempted to cut it open and dissect its inner workings," he said slowly. "None of our greatest weapons could so much as scratch it."

"That can't be right," Shepard began, but as they scrutinized it, the smoke began to shift, twisting in undulating patterns too complex and precise to be natural. They increased in speed as Shepard watched, twisting and writhing until... it opened. A hole in the cloud, a window into the smoke, where undulating patterns of light crafted images as sounds wafted into Shepard's ears from no discernable source.

"Do you see something?" Javik asked, curiosity plain in his voice.

"You don't?" Shepard asked in response.

Javik frowned. "It is smoke," he stated plainly. "I can see nothing else."

***

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