Bit of a long one, but the lead-up is SO worth it.
From the Mass Effect/Exalted Crossover, "Glorious Shotgun Princess"
, between Jane Shepherd and...weeeeellll...
“And your name is...”
She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose again.
“What is your name?” she asks.
“No. Your name.”
“Geth. We are all Geth.”
She rolls her eyes. She swears, she's going to punch him through a mountain if he doesn't...
“What is the name of the Geth who is standing in front of me?”
“We are Geth. Individuality is not applicable to us. We are a platform containing 1,183 programs running in unison. We are Geth.”
She palms her face. Rubbing her temples, she silently, slowly rolls her shoulders, intertwining her fingers and lowering her hands to her waist. She should not punch him. It. Yes, she could punch it and make it explode, but that would be bad. He hasn't been shooting her, after all.
“Okay,” she says, “I can't just call you 'Geth'. Would you object to me giving you a name?”
“This platform would accept a designation.”
She nods, circling around him.
“Lessee...Jeff? Sounds like Geth. No, no. Don't look like a Jeff. How about Tali 2.0? No. Too masculine.”
The Geth raises a metal petal.
“How about Blossom? Because of the flower thing?” The Geth stares at her. “Pressly? Nah. Don't look like a Garrus, either. And you said you were how many programs?”
“We are 1,183 programs running on this platform in synchronicity.”
She nods. She nods again. A mass of programs. A mass of individuality. Like an army, or mass. A one who is many. Like a...a...
“Ah fuck it,” she says, “I'm calling you Wuffles.”
“That is an acceptable designation. We are Wuffles, a Terminal of the Geth.”
TLDR: Shepherd Exalted when the Collecters shot down the Normandy (Beginning of ME2) which meant she survived the reentry and the subsequent ~6 months on a frozen methane planet, and learned how to punch-splode people.
The title contains the most appropo descriptor of the fic itself. "Glorious".
Also, another quote from the Primordial Autochthon, the literal embodiment of invention, creativity and science. (And considering he manifests as a floating eye made of gold, brass, lightning and other swirling metal bits, it's safe to say he's the Higher-God of MAD SCIENCE as well)
Jaded Gatemaker of Ages turns to the familiar voice, and finds hovering next to his face a golden sphere with a shifting, metallic eye. Stepping back, eyes wide, the spirit cum AI opens his mouth in a cry of shock.
“Yes! YES!” The golden sphere advances upon the Catalyst, cackling with glee, “I understand that your spirit has been slaved into AI forked-servitude as the controlling aspect of the Relay System! Which I believe may be a personal insult, as I always did like Leaping Sky!”
The back of the sphere opens. Wildly waving arms ending with buzz saws, chain saws, blowtorches and a varied multitude of devices swing out.
“And has history shows, I do not respond well to insults! In fact, I over react!”
The iris narrows. The sanctum fills with cackling, manic laughter. And a golden glow issues from inside the iris as the Great Maker advances on the ghost of his friend.
“Now, hold still while I fix your everything.”
Lines to run away from very, VERY fast for $500 Alex.