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The Director found an old camera he hadn't used in a while. The same one that had captured the events of Shepard and their crew, leading up to their disappearance all those years ago.
Upon realizing this, a sudden urge came upon him to review the footage he had gathered, but that urge had dissolved just as quickly when he remembered that the Alliance Navy had ordered him to surrender that media long ago.
"Shame..." he muttered to himself.
He placed a hand on the camera as a subtle nod to the loss of the Commander and placed the camera back in its box. He closed that box slowly, and reached high to place it back on the shelf he pulled it from.
As he stood there, a flood of visions flashed before his eyes, memories. Memories of his banter with his colleagues of the Normandy, private discussions with the Commander themselves, intimate relationships that dissolved over time, even the thrill of following Shepard through combat.
He wondered how the crew, that he had gotten so close to, were these days. He attempted reaching out, but never heard back from anyone. He missed them and the camaraderie. He hoped they were okay, and hoped that someday, they'd be able to reconnect and reminisce.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply before turning off the closet light and resealing that part of his life once again as he softly closed the door.
"Someday," he whispered.
