The Domain makes little sense to anyone with eyeballs. It's almost entirely in greyscale, for one. For another, stepping across an unseen border becomes like a bolt of energy, a pulse of harsh, blue-white light, setting a visitor down on a path through a metal hall. And at the end of that hall, is a door. It looks almost identical to Garrus' original Domain, until a visitor opens that door.

And through that door, is a beach. The air is warm, the sound of surf a low hum in the background of everything. It's shallow enough, closer inspection reveals, to see the bottom, no matter where you are. A shallow sea up to the knee, dotted here and there with shells made of blue and gold glass. The only spots of color in the landscape.

Like clockwork, a huge shape moves overhead, blotting out the pale grey sky. Or the occasional dots of brilliant silver stars. It glides through the atmosphere, a low whine like a whale song echos as it passes - every twelve hours. A herald of dawn and dusk. Precision sunrise and set.

Every palm tree sounds metallic in the breeze - and looking up, you see they are made of warm, living metal. Atop each tree are perches. Like hunting blinds. Observation posts. In one such post, sits Archangel, Guardian of the Gray.

Or, just Garrus, to his friends.

Call him down, he'll be there. Attempting to scale back this form of his, to make himself look slightly less "Biblically accurate". But the confident swagger of his walk hasn't changed, even with feathers trailing the sand or a gilded collar of an angelic halo.

"I'm not saying the line, if that's what you came for."

If you ask him to tell you be not afraid he's going to shoot something.