[ D'Artagnan takes a few drinks while Garrus is talking. He hates thinking of it like that, of a place that needs remembering. It's right, though. If they don't remember Macha, no one will.

There really is no choice. This land, this world, this whole place will have to die.

As a group, they'd killed so many Neraki yesterday. The payment for that is that their friends are safe and mostly well.

He would never take that back, but it sits heavily on his shoulders. ]

A year. I suppose it has. It's hard to think of it like that, with the longer days. I don't always add it all up.

We're really never going home, are we? It'll always be like this. For all the time we have left.