As this is about late-game Mass Effect 3, there will be SPOILERS – despite the importance of player-choice, I’m talking things that happen in some manner no matter what. Also, this game is old news to most people. That being said, I ACTUALLY DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT THE ENDING! I know some shit, and that everyone hated it? I’m not clear on the details, so I’m excited to actually see it for myself, and I’ll probably write about it then. Until that time comes, enjoy this sappy “A Video Game Made Me Feel Things” blog. It only barely begins to interrogate why Mass Effect has such an emotional impact and for now, I’d rather just sit in my feelings. Like most of my sporadic blogs here, I wrote this in one go, and then came back to clean it up a bit.

I’m finally getting around to finishing Mass Effect 3. The last time I really remember playing it was freshman year of college – almost four years ago, now. The last vivid memory I have of it is pacing my dorm room, alone, crying and swearing, because my favorite character had just died in dramatic fashion. His name was Thane Krios. His death was one of many melodramatic moments stuffed into a game that had impossible expectations of closure. And I reacted to it in virtually the same way I reacted to my own grandfather’s death just months before.

Even though there’s a faulty disc and a hectic schedule to blame, I think I know why I’ve been putting off finishing Mass Effect 3. Something about it works on me in a way few things do – I soar with triumph when I help the Krogan reclaim their planet, I worry about the state of my relationships as if they’re real. As if Liara’s really going to open up if I hit “A” a few more times.

I usually think of Dragon Age: Origins as my favorite game – I can delve into that some other time. But playing a bit of the original Mass Effect recently, I remember the things I love about it. The sleek design. The living, breathing characters. Even the inventory management. Most of all, I can grasp bits of the emotions I felt, exploring that galaxy for the first time. The wonder around every corner, the reading of every codex. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. There’s imminent danger in the Mass Effect universe, but that first game was letting us explore a god damn galaxy, and I’m sure there’s still secrets I haven’t found.

Back to Mass Effect 3. I jump back in to find I’m in the middle of the Geth-Quarian conflict. I’m also surprised to learn this is much closer to the end than I thought. My main run Shepard is pretty simple – named after me, a straightforward “good guy” who makes promises to help everyone and sees them through. He makes all the good choices I would want to make, if I was strong like he is. He’s an extension of myself, which might be why I get so worn down by the choices he's had to make. I’ve roleplayed characters with various personalities in this series before, and that gives me a bit of distance to enjoy the story as a viewer as well as participant. Here, there's no such veil. He’s the vanguard, the ultimate hero, forging ahead to make the galaxy safer for everyone. He’s been with Liara since the beginning, he’s been a brother to the Krogan, and he’s even supported the galaxy’s robotic cannon fodder – the Geth.

The first mission I play through is one that features nothing but history about the Geth as I explore their virtual consciousness in attempt to get rid the Reaper code controlling them. Though I had already sympathized with Legion’s attempts to help its people and been touched by its moments of seemingly inexplicable emotion, this mission was designed to hit home that the Quarians had always been the aggressors in this conflict. I knew there would be a difficult choice to make – ME3 often has you picking “sides” in an attempt to fill in the gaps of your character’s beliefs while also inching up the numbers in your War Assets. Regardless, it was time for Priority: Rannoch. The mission itself was straightforward. The boss fight against a reaper was a cool set piece, but getting somewhat frustrating. I look up a guide, and in doing so, I accidentally read that Legion was going to die, no matter what I did. All I could was get through it with the “best” outcome and minimal casualties.

I remember Thane. I figure nothing is going to be quite so bad, and now I’m prepared for it. In a way, I’m right.

The “choice” is between Legion and Tali, which can lead to one of their peoples dying. Legion wants its people to gain its level of intelligence and implores Tali to consider “does this unit have a soul?”Tali fears that not all the Geth will back down once they gain that level of sentience. In the end, Shepard is able to save the day in the best way possible again. He allows the Geth to be given autonomy while convincing the Quarians to stand down. Everybody wins. But, almost without explanation, Legion must sacrifice itself to give the rest of their people life. It tells me that it’s sorry, that this is the only way. Tali says the answer to its question was yes.

“I know, Tali. But thank you. Keelah se’lai.”

I didn’t even notice, at the time, what the writers had done. Legion always used the “we” pronoun. It’s a part of the lore that the Geth are all a part of one consciousness, that individual units are still just expressions of the greater Geth collective. I’m noticing now it’s a bit like Buddhism, in that way. But in saying “I,” Legion is given what we already knew it had – a soul. In all this, there’s something to be said about individuality. Free will. The very nature of existence. Its last words being that Quarian phrase – the one translated in the title – may say something about his thoughts on his afterlife, on his destination. That Tali is gaining a home she thought was lost should be striking me. Even the idea of “someone needs to die to make this emotional” that may have driven this game’s narrative bugs me sometimes. But I don’t care about any of that while Shepard stands on this reclaimed planet. It just feels like I’ve lost a friend.

After missions in Mass Effect, you can wander the Normandy and find some unique dialogue from just about everyone. After my previous trip into virtual reality, everyone had a quip to share without going into full “dialogue” mode. Now, I’m hoping people have something to say about Legion. I go to Tali, and am able to engage in a more complete conversation. But she doesn’t say a word about Legion. She had been shown to like him, thanks in part to my constant peacemaking, but all anyone can talk about is the unexpected unity between Quarians and Geth. Garrus, who I heard having a fun chat about gun calibrations with Legion just hours before, can only talk about my heroic peacemaking and what’s next in our war against the Reapers. I go to the memorial wall, and see a list of names of the fallen. My eyes, as always, scan to Thane’s. He’s been bumped – because there, standing out as a centered, single name amongst the given and family names, is the latest addition, the name that our ship’s AI helped give. Legion.

This is different from how I felt after Thane. Less explosive but still raw. This a quiet desperation, a feeling that no one else quite knows the loss I– or Shepard – is feeling. I go to Dr. Chakwas, grasping at straws, when I see the door in the back of her medbay, leading to the AI core. The AI core is where Legion could be found in Mass Effect 2. I’m not sure there’s anything in there in this game. Shepard steps inside to the empty storage space with the humming lights. As he walks to where Legion once stood, the door closes behind him. Back on Earth, controller in my hand, I start to sob.

Keelah se’lai.