"The metal I am, the iron you feel
The song of the dead, the chorus of steel-"

Shephard's left off on his displacer cannon and turned to a Combine weapon that vaguely resembles an Overwatch pulse rifle. He doesn't recognize it, but he doubts it matters. It's loaded and it puts holes in Synths when he points it at them and pulls the trigger. Not like he needs a functioning souvenir when this is all done.

"I, I am the blade, I break the oath that you made-"

Something wings him, searing across his protective gear and skittering away. He's not bleeding, it wasn't breached- but the shock of even that glancing impact sends him staggering. He drops to one knee even as he swings around to take aim and fire on the source of the attack.

"I, I am the mace, I am the blow in the face-"

and-
So tear me open, but beware
There's things inside without a care
everything
It's the nexus of the crisis
And the origin of storms
Just the place to hopelessly
Encounter time and then came me
pulses.
And the dirt still stains me
So wash me, until I'm clean
"what. the shit."