Rise of the Ghost

As Raven cruised silently through the endless void en route to the Citadel, Markus paused to study his status screen. His eyes swept over the familiar numbers and skill levels. A meticulous record of his relentless conquests. Not a single evolution had been initiated for the Mass Effect derived skills; he had deliberately held them in stasis. Markus's plan was to merge every class specific ability he acquired here into one single, overpowered arsenal. In his mind, the raw potential of biotics, infiltrators, vanguards and other combat disciplines was meant to converge, creating a synthesis that would stand above all these specific classes. 

Deep within the secure confines of his custom built subspace, a pocket realm he had created to test his experiments, Markus initiated a daring transfer. Channeling his reality manipulation and mind domination skills, he carefully merged the copied biotic and infiltrator skills and experience into one of his witcher summons, a formidable hybrid unit raised from Letho's legacy. Every bit of memory and every skill fragment flowed seamlessly into the summon's essence, blending its inherent witcher combat instincts with the precision of modern stealth and the raw force of biotic disruption. The process was fluid, executed with cold efficiency, as if Markus were simply rewriting an equation on a blackboard of destiny.

In the ethereal glow of his subspace, the witcher summon, modeled after Letho stood as a towering behemoth of pure destruction. Its hulking frame, reaching three meters, reanimated through necromancy, bore the hardened resolve of a true veteran of countless battles. Now, armed with the transferred infiltrator, soldier, sentinel and vanguard skills, it moved with a ghostly stealth that allowed it to vanish and reappear with surgical precision. The infusion of soldier attributes endowed it with brute strength and tactical awareness, while the sentinel abilities granted adaptive shield control and rapid biotic countermeasures. Engineer and vanguards skills all passed the tests he initiated. Weapons mastery of the summon was a show in itself. The Summoned witcher in it's Defender armor, a hulking giant even the Krogans will stay clear. In a stunning display of raw potential, the summon executed complex maneuvers with fluid grace, seamlessly integrating its newfound skills without a hitch.

Markus observed the transformation with a satisfied, almost detached amusement. The successful convergence of biotic, infiltrator, soldier, vanguard, engineer and sentinel abilities into a single witcher hybrid confirmed his vision. An unstoppable unit capable of turning the tide of any battle. He make the necessary changes to the base parameters of the unit and summoned 5,000 of them to stay with him. With a final glance at his status screen, he allowed himself a rare, cold smile. The future of his dominion was being written in the language of absolute power, and Markus was poised to command every facet of this new reality.

In the wake of his flawless assassinations, the ripples of Markus's unseen hand began to spread across the interstellar intelligence networks. All 20 high stakes contracts had been completed with not a single digital trace linking back to him. The silence in the data streams was deafening, and yet, subtle hints of disruption stirred in every report, from the clandestine circles of the Salarians to the secure channels of the Citadel.

An intelligence report from the Salarian Salarian Special Tasks Group (STG) arrived with an air of quiet alarm. Admiral Veris Dallin remarked in a coded transmission, "There is a shadow in our systems. Every trace of these operations is wiped clean, yet the aftermath speaks of a masterful hand at work." His words hinted at an adversary whose methods defied conventional tracking, leaving the Salarians both impressed and unsettled.

Meanwhile, high-ranking officers within Citadel Security (C-Sec) echoed similar concerns. Commander Halwyn Marek, speaking in a secure briefing, stated, "Our surveillance detects anomalies. Precision strikes against key targets, yet no evidence of the perpetrators. It appears that the ghost in our midst is as intangible as a whisper." His tone conveyed both frustration and a grudging respect for the unknown force behind the eliminations.

Spectre intelligence from the Asari Espionage Division further underscored the mystery. In a confidential report, Senior Agent Saren Avelis noted, "Our covert operations have confirmed that the high profile eliminations were executed with surgical precision. The targets, from influential diplomats to elite operatives, were taken out with no trace left behind." Her report, laced with both awe and apprehension, set off alarms among the Asari leadership.

Human intelligence from the N7 network was equally perturbed. Admiral Marik Odel, head of a secretive human espionage unit, transmitted, "Our agents report that every assassination contract has been fulfilled without a scrap of evidence. It's as though a phantom unseen, unstoppable, has woven chaos into our system." His message was clear: the shadowy figure known only as Ghost was leaving a mark on every major faction.

The convergence of these intelligence reports created a palpable tension across the various factions. Each high ranking officer, from the Salarians to the Citadel enforcers and the human operatives, was beginning to piece together a disturbing puzzle, an invisible predator executing operations with perfect precision.

Seizing upon this uncertainty, Markus issued a direct command to Onyx. "Scan the available contracts at Citadel, and compile a list of high-ranking targets," he ordered. Onyx's digital tendrils combed through the labyrinthine data networks, returning with over 50 promising assassination contracts, each tied to influential figures across multiple factions.

Markus reviewed the compiled data with clinical precision. Among the targets were a series of officials: Admiral Brennix Orval of the Salarian STG, General Tavian Kross from the N7 intelligence division, Commander Elyse Varun of Citadel Security, and Spectre operative Lirien Tal from Asari Espionage. Snippets of intercepted dialogue further confirmed their importance. Admiral Orval's urgent message, "We are under relentless pressure from unknown forces," and General Kross's frustrated outburst, "We've lost our best agents to a ghost, and our hands are tied." Each piece of intelligence painted a picture of a calculated campaign designed to destabilize the established order.

With a cold smile, Markus accepted 20 of the contracts. The status of these contracts changed from waiting to accepted. C-SEC has dispatched additional force to protect the targets of the contracts accepted by the "Ghost". He felt a surge of anticipation. Every contract represented not only another notch in his ever growing legend but also an opportunity to absorb further skills and expand his hybrid forces. The shadow of Ghost was poised to strike once again, ready to reshape the power dynamics of the Citadel and beyond.

As Raven sailed silently through the void toward the Citadel, a secure communication chime echoed through the bridge. A crisp, formal voice from C-Sec demanded, "This is Citadel Security. We require immediate confirmation of your identity and consent for a full security inspection of your vessel." Markus's lips curled into a disdainful smile as he replied with sarcasm, "I would gladly submit to your inspection, if you can first locate me and my ship." The words, delivered with unnerving calm, left no doubt about his contempt for their bureaucracy.

In a seamless motion, Markus activated his Ethereal Wraith skill, shrouding himself in an imperceptible veil as he stored the ship within his subspace. With his vessel secured away from prying sensors, he commandeered a stealth flight path toward the Citadel, slipping past monitoring systems like a shadow in the dark. 

Once in proximity to the Citadel, Markus initiated his next phase with clinical precision. In a series of meticulously planned strikes, he disabled security systems around each target. C-Sec personnel were neutralized non-lethally, rendered unconscious with a subtle flicker of arcane energy. While his own hand executed the contracts with ruthless efficiency. Each target fell silently, their bodies carefully collected for hybrid resurrection, and every kill was accompanied by flawless digital evidence that Markus stored for submitting the contracts.

As the assassinations unfolded beneath the helpless gaze of Citadel Security, a palpable panic began to ripple through the ranks. Over intercoms, a jittery officer blurted, "How is it that these targets are being eliminated right under our noses?" Another echoed, "The reports show no trace of intrusion, it's as if the executioner is a ghost," the silence was deafening after this remark and the officer was scolded, "even our most advanced sensors can't pin him down." Their voices carried equal parts fear and disbelief, underscoring the mystery behind the mercenary known only as Ghost.

Markus observed the growing chaos with a detached amusement. Each new contract fulfilled added another notch to his burgeoning legend. While he compiled the evidence and ensured that no digital footprint could ever be traced back to him. That very eve, the Citadel Council convened in an emergency session within the austere, high ceilinged chamber of the Council Hall. Councilor Tevos, the distinguished Asari representative, opened the session with measured concern: "Our intelligence indicates a shadow operative, registered under the codename Ghost, is responsible for these eliminations. His vessel, Raven, appears in our records, yet no image of his face exists, only a towering figure, 2.5 meters in height, registered as human."

Councilor Valern, the Salarian voice of pragmatism, interjected sharply, "We have examine the communications and reports from C-Sec confirming these operations. Yet the human faction remains strangely silent on the matter. It is as if they refuse to cooperate with us regarding this phantom." His tone dripped with skepticism, and Councilor Sparatus, representing the Turians, added, "This lack of collaboration from the Human Alliance is disturbing. We must determine if they are complicit in concealing his true identity."

Acting on their concerns, the Council sent a secure communiqué to the Human Alliance, requesting further information on Ghost and his elusive starship. The reply, delivered by Admiral Anderson in a terse, official dispatch, stated, "Our records show no trace of an operative by that name on Illium. It appears the individual has inserted himself into our system without detection." The news ignited a spark of tension among the Council members, with Councilor Sparatus remarking, "This absence of record only deepens the mystery and our distrust of human intentions in this matter."

As the Citadel Council deliberated over the growing threat, the corridors of Citadel Security buzzed with frantic activity. Officers, desperate to understand how a mercenary like Markus could operate with such impunity, scoured every data feed for clues. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Markus's calculated orchestration of the contracts continued unabated. 

Lirien Tal was no ordinary Asari, she embodied the majesty and power of the revered Asari Matriarchs. These elder leaders, known for their prodigious biotic abilities, wisdom, and diplomatic finesse, had long served as both spiritual guides and formidable warriors. Renowned for their graceful demeanor and otherworldly beauty, Matriarchs were revered across the galaxy. Markus had studied Lirien's data meticulously; she was at their level, commanding both respect and an innate understanding of biotic forces. Her power, though more refined than raw destructive might, was something Markus was eager to assimilate.

In the quiet sanctuary of her registered residence on Citadel, Lirien sat in deep meditation. Her serene posture and luminous, violet-tinted eyes reflect the calm of one who had mastered inner strength. Without waiting for any sign of disturbance, Markus activated his copying ability, choosing her Biotic Mastery skill. A ripple of potent biotic energy surged through the room, gently rousing her from her trance. As she slowly opened her eyes, Lirien murmured, "All the recording devices are off... I have awaited the arrival of my executioner." Her tone, respectful yet laced with quiet defiance, hinted at an acceptance of fate even before her final moment.

Markus, ever the picture of cold efficiency, confirmed there was no recording or scanning devise is active, deactivated his Ethereal Wraith form and took his place across from her. In a measured, almost regal manner, Lirien regarded him with a raised eyebrow and offered a courteous greeting. "I have carried the weight of this contract for some time," she said softly, her voice resonant with dignified calm. Markus replied with a chilling smile, "I accepted it to raise you as a hybrid, your skills will only serve to enhance my forces." As he spoke, a series of five updated witcher summons materialized nearby, each in their Defender armor standing as statues. Lirien studied the summoned images with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, her voice barely above a whisper: "Please, do not alter my form further." Markus's tone remained unyielding as he inquired, "Why did you not resist, or attempt to fight for your life?" With a gentle, enigmatic smile, Lirien replied, "I have read of your other deeds, and I know resistance is futile. I choose to accept my end peacefully."

After a moment of silent understanding, Markus honored her wish. With dignified resolve, he allowed her to sip a final glass of water before, with a subtle gesture, extinguishing her life in a painless, almost serene manner. As Lirien's luminous eyes met his one last time, a serene smile graced her beautiful, ageless face. A silent farewell that spoke volumes of acceptance. Markus recorded the kill meticulously to submit the contract, preserving every detail of the flawless execution. True to his word, he did not alter her form, ensuring that her essence would be preserved and integrated as a potent hybrid unit in his ever-expanding arsenal.

Markusleft the residance of Lirien in stealth. Still cloaked in his Ethereal Wraith form, he slipped silently through the council member's hall. With practiced ease, he hacked into each terminal, leaving a brief, unambiguous note on every screen: "I am not your enemy… YET." On each desk, he placed a meticulously crafted figurine of himself in Defender armor. Miniature statues reminiscent of those seen in the Doom (2016) PC game. His actions were as much a message as they were a signature. A reminder that even as he vanished into the shadows, his presence would be felt in every corner of Citadel intelligence.

The following day, Markus continued his covert campaign. He infiltrated the Specter quarters of the Citadel, methodically copying additional biotic and combat skills from the elite operatives stationed there. Satisfied with his enhancements, he left another message for the C-Sec Administrator alongside a fresh figurine. Another token of his signature style. In his notes, he reiterated his earlier statement: "I am not your enemy… YET." The repeated gesture was deliberate, a taunt meant to unsettle those who pried too deeply into his affairs while also signaling his readiness to accept contracts from any faction.

Later that day, the Citadel Council convened in the austere chamber of the Council Hall. Councilor Tevos, the distinguished Asari representative, examined the figurine in her possession with a measured, thoughtful expression. "The message is clear," she remarked in a calm, resonant voice, "Ghost claims neutrality, at least for now. If we can harness his skills, his impeccable record might prove advantageous." Councilor Valern, the Salarian voice of reason, nodded in agreement. "His actions suggest a level of precision and discretion that is rare, even among the elite. While his methods are unorthodox, he could serve as an invaluable asset if managed properly."

Councilor Sparatus, representing the Turians, cut in sharply, his tone laced with barely concealed fury. "Asset? I see nothing but a threat. A towering figure registered as human, how many humans have we seen at 2.5 meters? He either augmented himself witch cybernetics or a different species." He quipped and added "His every move defies our sensors. His figurines are a mockery, and his cryptic note only confirms his unpredictable nature. We cannot afford to have a mercenary like him operating unchecked on our doorstep. I have confirmed through my contacts. Human Alliance has nothing on this Ghost. He is a dark point, no information, no history, there are not even records of him arriving in Illium." The Turian's words echoed in the chamber, a stark counterpoint to the cautious optimism of his Asari and Salarian colleagues.

Tevos pressed gently, "We must remember that the very precision of his strikes and the absence of any trace suggest an operative whose methods, though unconventional, are effective. If we can learn to work with him, rather than against him, our strategic position could improve considerably." Valern added, "The Human Alliance has been unusually silent on this matter, clearly they do not posses any more information on him. It is imperative that we obtain further intel, if Ghost is indeed as resourceful as our records imply, he could be a linchpin in our future operations."

Sparatus snapped, "Or he could be the dagger in our backs. I say we tighten security and prepare for the worst." His voice, resolute and uncompromising, underscored the palpable tension within the council.

A secure communiqué was dispatched to the Human Alliance, and soon a terse reply from Admiral Anderson confirmed their complete lack of record regarding Ghost. "Our files show no trace of this operative on Illium," the message read. Sparatus's frown deepened as he muttered, "This only confirms my worst fears, he's operating entirely off the grid." Meanwhile, Tevos and Valern exchanged cautious glances, both acknowledging that while his methods raised concerns, his unmatched efficiency might indeed be an asset if properly channeled.

As the council deliberated, Markus's silent signature, the figurines left on every terminal and desk continued to spark a mix of admiration and apprehension. The message was unambiguous: "I am not your enemy… YET." And as the council members clutched their figurines, each pondered the potential consequences of a mercenary who could vanish into thin air, leaving only whispers and warnings in his wake.

As Raven neared Omega, an urgent comm buzzed through the station's network. The operator's crisp, mechanical voice crackled over the channel: "Unidentified vessel approaching. Request docking on security deck for identification and inspection." Markus activated Raven's stealth systems. In an instant, his vessel was shrouded in an impenetrable veil of darkness as he seamlessly switched to Ethereal Wraith mode and stored Raven within his subspace. Flying alone and invisible, he slipped past Omega's sensors, ordering Onyx to scour every assassination contracts. The promise of "Ghostly Chaos" was imminent, and over the next ten days, every operation Markus executed was a masterpiece of lethal precision.

Throughout those ten days, Omega descended into chaos. Mercenary factions like the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse, once the formidable backbone of Omega's underworld found themselves decimated, losing over 3,500 officers and nearly triple that in fighters and numerus combat drones on Blue Suns case. In hushed, frantic whispers among the fleeing ranks, one Blood Pack lieutenant muttered to another, "I've never seen numbers like this, it's as if some phantom executed them all with surgical precision!" Another Eclipse member grumbled bitterly, "We're losing our best, and our bosses can't make heads or tails of it. Who or what is this ghost?" Amid the turmoil, Aria T'Loak's temper boiled over. Every day for the last ten days, as she entered her opulent office, she found a meticulously crafted figurine of Ghost placed in front of her terminal, accompanied by a single, icy note: "Angry yet?" The relentless presence of these tokens, an unmistakable signature only fanned the flames of her fury.

Unable to contain her rising anger any longer, Aria recorded a video message, her regal yet seething voice echoing through every display on Omega. "This is Aria T'Loak," she declared, her eyes narrowing into lethal slits, "and I demand a parley with this phantom known as Ghost. I want to know what you want to stop the destruction of my sanctum. Your indiscriminate slaughter has left even the most hardened mercenary groups trembling, and now you've dared to toy with our security." As her message played across Omega's screens, whispers spread among the mercenary groups still clinging to the station. A Blue Suns captain, his voice rough and laden with dread, confided to his comrade, "She's not bluffing, Aria's calling him out. We never thought a ghost could strike so deep, but now our world is crumbling." Meanwhile, a Salarian officer, his tone cool and analytical, remarked, "this Ghost is truly as efficient as our intelligence suggests, he might be an asset… if we can find a way to control him." But the Turian representatives, ever distrustful, warned gravely, "He is a threat of highest level. His every action undermines our authority." And so, amid the mounting tension and shifting allegiances, Omega braced itself for the impending meeting. A confrontation that would decide the future of the station and the fragile balance of power in this ruthless station.

Aria had been waiting in the private lounge of Afterlife for any sign of the elusive Ghost when she found him seated there, unannounced, unchallenged, and impossible to ignore. Standing a towering 2.5 meters tall, Markus exuded lethal efficiency; a Black Widow Sniper rested on his right shoulder while an M-76 Revenant was affixed to his left. Not even the guards stationed before her terminal had noticed his silent intrusion. In that chilling moment, Aria understood the unspoken message: he could have ended her life without a flicker of hesitation. With her heart pounding in quiet terror, she forced herself to remain composed. Her eyes locked on the monstrous figure while his helmet, still on, betrayed no emotion. After several moments of tense, oppressive silence, she broke the quiet in a controlled, measured tone, "What do you want from Omega?"

Markus tilted his head slightly, a hint of a sardonic smile playing at his lips, and replied, "Where is the bravado you showed on the screen?" Without another word, he forwarded an unaccepted contract onto her terminal, a contract priced at 2 million credits. Aria's eyes widened as she asked, "Are you going to accept it?" In a lazy, almost indifferent tone, Markus answered, "I'm still thinking." Frustrated, she shouted to her Batarian bodyguard, "Anto, bring me 10 million in chips!" As Anto hurried in with data pads laden with credits, he attempted to draw his weapon, only to be effortlessly restrained by Markus's telekinetic grip. Turning his icy gaze on Anto, Markus remarked, "Consider this mercy, a favor to you. Next time, if any of your dogs dare attack, I'll destroy not only this idiot but you as well." In a blink, Markus and the data pads vanished, leaving Aria in a state of paralyzing fear and uncertainty. Anto frantically scanned every sensor for his unseen assailant, but Aria's curt command halted his search. With her eyes still glued to the contract for her head, she whispered bitterly to herself, "I just bought my life for 10 million credits, and I still have no idea why the Ghost was here at Omega."

As Raven sailed away from Omega, Markus relaxed in his private quarters, gazing out at the endless cosmos. He issued a command to Onyx to scan for new contracts. Within moments, Onyx returned with roughly fifteen high-priority assassination contracts, each bearing a header like "For Ghost" and designated for the Human Alliance, Asari, Turians, and more. Intriguingly, every contract stipulated a mandatory meeting with the contractor. Markus, with his usual detached amusement, selected an Asari contract. The meeting details flashed on his interface: it was scheduled on Thessia. Without hesitation, he ordered Onyx to set a course for Thessia.

As Raven approached Thessia, Markus couldn't help but reminisce about the fiery chaos of Mass Effect 3. Images of a burning Thessia, of blue-skinned Asari gracing the tumultuous streets, flooded his mind. Suddenly, a secure channel crackled to life. Multiple Asari frigates encircled his vessel, their presence unmistakable. In a voice as cold and refined as ice, Markus declared, "You have five seconds to explain this intrusion, this was supposed to be a meeting not a confrontation! After that, consequences shall befall you." His tone left no ambiguity; his words were both a challenge and a warning.

An Asari Commando, her voice steady and measured, responded, "Ghost, these ships are not here to attack. They are merely escorting you to the designated meeting point." Markus's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet as he replied sharply, "I warn you, any further hostile maneuver, and the contract shall be nullified before it was discussed." His words resonated with calculated menace, a reminder that he controlled momentum in this game of shadows.

At the designated meeting zone near Thessia's orbital station, the same commando issued a final directive: "Board the dreadnought Ahlatania please." With deliberate precision, Markus activated his Ethereal Wraith form, shrouding himself in invisibility as he stored the vessel within his private subspace. The sudden disappearance left the surrounding Asari ships in stunned silence. Moments later, his voice echoed over their intercom: "I prefer to find my own way. I do not appreciate being escorted."

Flying alone in his Wraith form, entering undetected and unregistered. Within the ship's silent corridors, he discovered the Asari counselor, Councilor Tevos, accompanied by a cadre of elite commandos, Matriarchs and high-ranking officers, the pinnacle of Asari military leadership.

Markus settled himself in the spacious, darkened briefing chamber opposite Councilor Tevos. With a thought, he deactivated his stealth while maintaining a low-level hack to suppress any automatic registration signals. The sudden appearance of Ghost, tall, imposing, and cloaked in matte black Defender armor left Tevos and her entourage visibly shocked. In a voice as refined as winter frost, Markus spoke, "I trust this was not meant as a humorous attempt to capture me." His words, delivered with unmistakable enmity, resonated deeply in the silent room.