Pain. Pain was all he could feel. No gravity. No sensors. How long was he out? His vision was tinted red as warning symbols pulsed in his HUD.<br/><br/>SHIELDS NONFUNCTIONAL<br/>VACUUM SEALING COMPROMISED<br/>ARMOR POWER LOW<br/><br/>All those and more flashed across the display in glaring red text. He didn't bother blink-clicking to clear the display. He was dying. The memories of the battle came back. An explosion. Decompression. All around him, the bodies of other Systems Alliance Marines floated limply amidst debris from the SSV<span style="font-style: italic">Manila</span>as it waged a losing battle with a Collector cruiser and boarding party. How appropriate, he thought. His city of birth would become his tomb. He checked maneuvering thrusters. Still functional.<br/><br/>Rotating to get a better view of the Alliance cruiser, he could see Marines still waging a last desperate stand against the Collectors inside the hull breach. He could still see the corpse of the Praetorian he'd slain. Too far for a Biotic Charge. Too far for even a Warp bolt. Aching muscles strained as they flexed, reaching for the pistol mag-locked at his side. Numb fingers fumbled for purchase in the cold of space. Nothing. He was too weak to even put down a few parting shots. He cursed inwardly, fighting the coming darkness.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">John del Pilar, Lieutenant, 23411749,</span>he chanted mentally to keep himself awake.<span style="font-style: italic">Del Pilar, Lieutenant, 23411749. Del Pilar, 23411749.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">JOHN DEL PILAR OF EARTH.</span><br/><br/>Half-lidded eyes snapped open. Who...? What even--<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">JOHN DEL PILAR OF EARTH. YOUR WORDS AND DEEDS INSPIRE GREAT HOPE. YOUR HEROISM SHALL BECOME THE STUFF OF LEGEND. YOUR VERY VOICE SHALL MOVE PEOPLES AND ARMIES. YOUR WRATH SHALL BE AS INCANDESCENT AS THE STARS THEMSELVES. THOUGH YOUR ENEMIES ARE MANY, YOU SHALL NOT FALTER, FOR YOU ARE BLESSED BY SOL INVICTUS. <br/><br/>WELCOME TO THE ZENITH CASTE.</span><br/><br/>And upon his brow, a perfect golden disc manifested. Coruscating energies ran into his body, infusing it with new life and untold power. Around him, space glowed with the cobalt and gold of a clear noon day. He could move. He could breathe. He could fight. Lieutenant John del Pilar, Terran, Marine, and Lawgiver of the Unconquered Sun, closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. He focused on the rearmost Collector in sight and surged forth, a golden blur amidst the rapidly spreading debris. Within seconds, he found himself standing atop the pulped remains of a Collector Drone, his fist coated in viscera. With the hiss and click of moving parts, John drew his pistol, an N7 Eagle and dove into the fray.