At her touch, the map enlarges yet further, and the room is lit in the pale blue of Earth itself, a ghostly moon orbiting it, helpfully labeled Luna. Shepard hesitates, the way she usually does— Reapers are never a charming revelation.

"They're uh..." Monsters, is the word she wants to say, which is neither helpful nor illustrative, "They come every fifty thousand years, and wipe out all sentient life in the galaxy, or at least everyone who's made it into space."

Which included humans, as you can see from the spaceship.

"They're enormous, thousands of meters tall, practically immortal machine life forms. So far as we can tell, their only purpose is just... Reduce the population to zero, give it time to rebound, come back and do it again. We've only killed one, so far, but there are thousands of them coming. I'm just one woman, but I've got a lot of good people on my side. Just gotta hope it's enough."

She doesn't hold out much hope, just the same; stubborn will has carried her through the worst of it so far. Maybe it'll win the day.