I’ve never been too great with endings—the fiction I write, when I write it, tends to be open-ended when it comes to concluding events—and you might have noticed by now that even my posts tend to more terminate abruptly more often than they come to an actual conclusion. I don’t like things to end, especially when they are things I’m in the process of enjoying. It is part of human nature, perhaps, to avoid saying something is over—look no further than our predilection for discussions of the afterlife in our religions. We don’t like considering that things end—there’s always got to be more to the story, more to consider, more adventures to go on. We die, but after that we get to be ghosts, or go live in a magical city in the sky, or come back and start over again as a goat. It’s a comforting thought, to think we’ll continue somehow.

Similarly, in fiction I like a good open-ended conclusion to a story. A little mystery when it comes to the fate of everyone involved is a good thing, or at least I think it’s a good thing. You don’t know what happens to everyone at the end of Against the Day, just that things changed and some folk moved on and others didn’t, and some folk are happy and some still aren’t and probably never will be. Blade Runner doesn’t so much end as it does show the beginning to the next chapter and stop (and if rumors are to be believed, there will eventually be a sequel of sorts, which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but then again Blade Runner was the last really great Ridley Scott film so maybe it is better that it never gets off the ground). In the same vein, Mass Effect 3’s original ending doesn’t bother to tell you what happens to everyone after Shepard’s final decision—depending on the ending you selected and what you’ve done up until that point, you see a few survivors and what they might be up to, but that’s it. This is the part where some of you might be getting ready to close the browser window in disgust, but hear me out here:

Mass Effect 3 is one long goodbye to Commander Shepard, and a pretty powerful meditation on our inevitable mortality. You see the effect Shepard has by running into those from the previous two games with whom you interacted. There are few moments more satisfying, for me, than running into some random NPC who I kept from enlisting with mercenaries, and suddenly he’s a soldier for the Alliance. Even hearing my companions reminisce about past exploits was entertaining, and having a hurried choice in the second game wind up having serious repercussions in the third game was more satisfying than it had any right to be. As I frantically attempted to stop the apocalypse from happening—the actual, real apocalyptic end of the galaxy I’d come to know—I kept running into those I’d helped, or failed to help, before. That a group of colonists from the first game would show up to help fight in the third was, for me, immensely satisfying (and made unlocking the Synthesis ending easier, naturally). The people I’d elected to help were present and accounted for, and while I will freely admit the ultimate fate of the Rachni was fucking garbage, the ability to angrily wipe out the very race I’d given a second chance was tempting indeed (I’ve gone down both paths on that one, for the record).

But it is not the bulk of the game that caused a good old fashioned rage explosion, it was the Final Choice, and, more damningly, the Three Colored Flash.

Look, I’ll be real here: the three colored flash isn’t the best way that cutscene could have gone down—surely there were other things you could show—but not knowing the ultimate fates of my compatriots is the sort of thing I live for. The synthesis ending in particular served as a great way to close the loop of what was, after all, one of the larger running themes throughout the series: what is our relationship with technology. The potential for disastrous conflict is, of course, one of the old standbys of science fiction—and an inevitability according to the Reapers (who are themselves AIs), and one they are there to prevent from destroying the galaxy—just, you know, destroying these comparatively young species who are getting all set to fuck everything up again for the stories that have yet to be told. The Reapers are an early end, but their reasons are for those of inevitability—better to stop things now, rather than allow them to potentially get out of hand.

It was refreshing for me, then, that rather than succumb to the inevitable (which is how I see the other two endings—either you destroy all AIs, which will inevitably be rebuilt and cause trouble just as planned, or you take control of the Reapers and assume that as millennia drift by you will somehow be able to retain your human perspective. The third option—marry the organic and artificial together, leveling the playing field in terms of processing power and, presumably, forcing the two sides to understand one another—is the only option that lacks the inevitability of the other two. Rather than repeating or deleting, you create something new.You lose Shepard, yes, and I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I did not get a little choked up (and if you play the piano music near me, I might still get choked up), but you gain a whole new set of possibilities.

I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING, SHUT UP

Possibilities which, of course, the game does not feel the need to explore. Instead, you are given the final image of Joker and Eva—whose relationship with one another has served as a microcosm of the larger conflict and its possible outcomes—stepping off the Normandy, irrevocably changed and ready to confront the wilderness of this new world. I felt sad as I watched Shepard scatter herself to the four winds, but the ending shot of Joker and Eva made me excited about the possibilities of the new galaxy I’d had a hand in creating. Shepard’s tale was over, but there were no limits to what could happen next, making the halting of the apocalypse that much more satisfying. Rather than ending the story, the game chooses to start a new one.

AN: I’ve got another playthrough of Mass Effect 3 going on RIGHT NOW, so don’t be surprised if this comes up again. Like most games, there’s more to talk about than can be discussed in a single sitting.