A/N: Yet another scenario that I thought of. Personally, I favor the Control ending, but this is what I think might happen with a renegade Shepard. Hope you enjoy, and make sure to review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

It had been many years since he had become what he was. The years had slid through his metaphorical fingers quickly, vanishing and adding up until they became decades and centuries. He had watched his subjects transform from a broken civilization, rife with corruption and weakness, into strong, loyal subjects.

They had resisted at first, untrusting of his wisdom and power, but he showed them how weak they truly were. He had taught them the wisdom in submission, how they would attain peace through docility. It had been a long struggle between the short-sighted dissidents that wished to return to the previous system, silently desiring the return to conflict and corruption, madness and disorganization.

But, as all other foolish challengers had learned in their attempts to override his authority, he was invincible. He guided every one of his peacekeepers with perfect precision, his all-encompassing mind present in each one. His foes could not stop his peacekeepers from pacifying them, bringing the broken fragments of the previous civilization into his own glorious empire.

His mind felt a twinge of annoyance as he thought of the ringleaders of those little rebellions. Several had been his loyal crewmates, those he had once trusted beyond all others. They had scorned the gifts he would have given him – they would have been gods amongst mortals, raised up to a position the deluded organics could not even begin to understand! – And had spread dissidence and conflict, sending ripples throughout his peaceful galaxy.

The deluded organics had thought to break his hold by attacking his Citadel, hoping to somehow find his home and destroy it. He had pacified them, killing few of the misguided organics. Killing them would be a waste, and he was not a wasteful god. They had been shown the error of their ways and sent back to their various home worlds to continue aiding his empire.

It was only the ringleaders that were kept in his Citadel. He looked through the eyes of his peacekeepers that watched over his previous crewmates, ensuring that they were kept safe. Their bodies would never waste away; the mechanical components added to them would keep them forever stable.

His old friends had been given the greatest of gifts, regardless of their insolence and betrayal of his trust. He had placed them all in their own little worlds, worlds where they would be happy and free for eternity.

Miranda was with her sister in a blissfully innocent childhood, her mind unaware of her experiences.

Ashley was with her family at her old home, living in the peace that had escaped her for so long. In her world her grandfather had never been shamed.

James was in a similar situation, living his old life. If his life was somewhat easier than his memories, it was barely noticed.

Samara, the last of those who had defied him, lived in a world where her daughters had never been born with the curse and stigma of the Ardat-Yakshi.

They would be happy for all eternity, a suitable gift for those that had aided him in his quest. Of course, they were the ones that had fought against him in their deluded mindset. His other crewmates had simply accepted the positions and power he had given them, grateful for them.

No more rebellions had sprung up after that. The brave warriors that had aided Earth in her time of need were carefully brought back to their planets when his peacekeepers had restored the Mass Relays to their former glory, and they had simply lived. Few protested his taking of their weapons, and those that did were merely assimilated into his peacekeepers. He would not allow a few dissidents to interrupt the newfound peace in the galaxy.

Demilitarization proceeded quickly once all races were back to their homes. As before, few resisted. Those that did were assimilated into his peacekeepers, now guarding those that had proceeded willingly. He treated the Quarians more leniently, allowing them to keep many of their weapons, although he disarmed many of their ships.

They had proven to be able to work together well, and were distinctly less chaotic than many other races. He had appointed Tali to a position of control, something that she accepted. The Quarians, with the aid of the geth, quickly found homes and began to adapt to Rannoch. The news pleased him.

When all races had accepted his authority, he positioned his peacekeepers throughout their worlds. They had accepted the wisdom in their submission, but there were always dissidents. He would keep his subjects safe from the foolish rebels.

Colonies were now well-protected by his peacekeepers. He was infinitely more capable than the sprawling mess of corrupt bureaucracy that had preceded his rule, and he suffered none of the logistics problems. The bodies of the dead were repurposed into his peacekeepers should they be in sufficient condition, and those that weren't were harvested for their genetic material. He could never have enough of his greatest peacekeepers, those that were capable of defending and destroying nearly anything with ease.

Earth was fixed quickly. His peacekeepers did not need food, sleep or any other functions that organics required. As such, resources were spared for the organics that required them and his peacekeepers were able to repair the damage from the previous invasion in a matter of years.

The other worlds that had suffered from the invasion were repaired just as quickly, although Earth had taken much of the damage. His technology and peacekeepers healed the damage done to the land and cities, making them livable again.

He had reshaped entire worlds, had repaired damage that would have taken untold millennia to repair naturally in a matter of years, he had brought a peace to the galaxy that had never been seen before. And he asked for a single thing. Submission. It was given unconditionally, as the organics knew that he would not hesitate to protect his new empire and his subjects with all of the considerable force he could muster.

Of course, after he had healed the galaxy and repaired the damage his predecessor had caused, there were regions left untamed. Their freedom and brutal customs were a threat to his peace, and he would not allow them to harm his subjects. Peace was imperative, and could sometimes only be achieved through war.

So he massed many of his peacekeepers together, loading millions of his soldiers into his greatest peacekeepers. When he was prepared, they went through the Mass Relays to destroy the renegades and bring permanent peace to his galaxy. He left few of his peacekeepers at their posts, but it was enough. His subjects loved his peace, and they would not rise up against their god.

His peacekeepers had obliterated the flimsy defenses the rebels and pirates had arrayed against him, destroying their greatest chance at resisting him in a single day. He had followed the shattered fleets wherever they went, his vast and omniscient mind guiding his peacekeepers with perfect precision.

It took him a single year to pacify the untamed regions, something that the previous civilization had failed to do over thousands of years. When he had shown the remaining civilizations his power by disarming their entire populace and destroying their infrastructure, they submitted.

They bent to his will, grateful that he had spared many of them. He had gained millions of new peacekeepers from his campaign, and they now guarded and watched over his new subjects. When he was sure they would not rise up again, he had repaired the damage he had committed, allowing his new subjects to flourish and contribute.

His vast empire, unmatched by any that came before him, was perfect in every conceivable way. Crime had been obliterated, peace reigned, and culture flourished. He guided his subjects perfectly, meeting their every need and ensuring that the peace he had set into place was never disturbed.

When a planet grew overpopulated he moved some of the population to a new planet. Should a planet become polluted he cleaned it up. If conflict arose, it was crushed. If his subjects needed resources they were given.

Scientific development was restricted for his subjects, lest they grow jealous and arrogant and attempt to topple their god. He provided them with anything they needed, and he ensured that the legions of scientists that he gave the gift of knowledge to were isolated. They were just as happy as his other subjects, and they churned out knowledge that even his predecessor had not known.

His power was unmatched, his peace unbreakable, and his knowledge unlimited.

That was all centuries ago. He had grown since then. His knowledge had become more and more profound; his subjects become happier and happier as their every need was met, his power growing in leaps and bounds.

He communicated with his crewmates frequently. Their bodies had long ago been immortalized with his machinery, and they had served him well. None had dissented over the centuries and reaped the rewards of their loyalty whether they wanted them or not.

Everything he had hoped to accomplish when he had sacrificed his corporeal form had been made reality. His galaxy had been made perfect, and peace would reign forever under his guiding hand.

But his vast mind flashed towards new possibilities. His technology had grown beyond even his highest expectations, and his knowledge had given him the means to do things once thoughts impossible.

There was much more in this universe than his own perfect galaxy. Infinite systems and regions existed beyond his empire, and could one day pose a threat to his beloved subjects. The galaxies beyond his reach were untamed and dangerous, likely no better than his own galaxy had been when he first came into being.

It would take time. Time that was nearly incomprehensible to any organic except for a select few of his subjects. But it would be worth it to bring peace to another galaxy, to stabilize the churning mass of instability that organics inherently brought into being through their own folly.

He turned his omniscience inward, beginning the first stages of his new plan. His peacekeepers stirred as his will was made known to them, and they began to prepare.

Peace was worth any amount of time and resources. He had the means to spread it, and he would no matter what he had to do.

For he was the Shepard of his empire, and his flock would grow.