To Mordin's advice. And to ingesting... whatever the hell we want.

[Cheers. Shepard salutes the glorious starscape with the bottle in her fist, takes a generous swig and then leans back on a satisfied sigh. Alright. This... this was nice.]

Wonder what he'd think of all this. Magic. The Horizon. All these... old gods. Every time I thought I had Mordin figured out, he'd throw me for a loop.