
I remember the first time I played Mass Effect 2. That’s where my journey began — not the “proper” starting point, maybe, but the one that hooked me. When I learned I could import my save, I went back to the first game. Then carried that same Shepard into Mass Effect 3. I still have the art book from that edition.
I shaped Commander Shepard with my decisions. From the moment he stepped onto Eden Prime to the moment he stood on the crucible and changed the milky way forever - It was my story. My Shepard.
And now Amazon wants to tell his story again? No, thank you!
He already has a story. One that mattered because I lived it.
Shepard Is a Mirror — Not a Script
Commander Shepard isn’t just a protagonist. He’s a player avatar. That’s the defining element of the trilogy. Every choice, every conversation, every scar tells you more about who your Shepard is — not who the writers want him to be.
He can be a ruthless renegade or a loyal idealist. He can punch reporters or inspire peace. He can romance Tali, Garrus, Kaidan, or — in my case — Liara. From the first spark in that Prothean ruin to the final goodbye, their bond never broke. Even when she pulled away in Mass Effect 2, he waited. Loyal. Hopeful.
There is no “true” Shepard.
So when a show tries to define him — gives him a fixed backstory, one face, one voice, one romance — they’re not bringing him to life. They’re cutting him down. Flattening him into a version that will always feel like a stranger.
“That’s not my Shepard,” fans will say. And they’ll be right.
The Universe Deserves Better
The Mass Effect universe is vast. It spans wars, species, politics, betrayal, hope, and two galaxies. You could tell stories about a new Spectre in the Terminus Systems. A human raised on the streets of Omega suddenly uncovers Prothean technology. A refugee biotic child trying to survive during the Reaper invasion. Or heck, you could tell the story of an adventurer discovering remnant technology on Andromeda's Heleus cluster.
Why go back to Shepard? Why box yourself into the impossible task of rewriting a character everyone has already written for themselves?
This isn’t a creative decision. It’s a branding one. And it shows.
We’ve Seen This Before
Studios keep doing this. They grab the most recognizable name and assume that’s what made the story special. It’s not. What made Mass Effect special was you. The choices. The bonds. The agency.
Taking that away doesn’t feel like homage.
It feels like theft.
My Shepard Was Real
He was born in space, raised on Alliance ships. He believed in unity, in diplomacy, in protecting the innocent — even when it hurt. He was an Adept, tearing through battlefields with biotics that danced like starlight. He was a man who loved Liara with a quiet certainty across war, loss, and time itself.
He wasn’t perfect. But he was mine.
So no, Amazon.
Commander Shepard isn’t yours.
He never was.