Copyright Polygon
Fairly early in Mass Effect 2, Shepherd and the crew find themselves on the outskirts of Omega, a red-hued, mined-out metallic asteroid that serves as a haven for criminals, terrorists, and other outlaws. From the moment players take control, a grimy, bassy electronic tune straight out of Blade reverberates across the rock, setting the tone for how this sketchy society operates. Moving through Omega, it quickly becomes clear that anyone not involved in the Underworld lives in squalor, with citizens sprawled across the streets. But dead ahead is the source of the music: a nightclub called Afterlife, which happens to be one of the most well-realized locations in video games. Afterlife is the headquarters of Aria, an Asari crime boss; it’s the beating heart of Omega, where every act of debauchery and heinous scheme is born. From the moment Shepherd skips the line and steps inside, it feels like walking straight into hell — if hell absolutely ruled, that is. The entire space glows red, LED panels flicker with digital flames, and the atmosphere is thick with tension. Almost immediately, a group of Batarians confronts the crew, weapons drawn. Players can choose to take the Paragon route and defuse the situation with tact, or lean into their Renegade instincts and draw their pistol as well. Omega wastes no time showing that survival on the asteroid means embracing your darker side. Those committed to a pure Paragon run will quickly find themselves exploited, while those willing to get their hands a little dirty stand a better chance of coming out on top. It’s a brilliant showcase of the game’s morality system and how deeply it ties into the story’s outcome. But nothing compares to finally pushing past the thugs and stepping into the club itself. Saki Kaskas’s incredible score kicks in at full force as the scene explodes with life — Asari dancers move to the rhythm, patrons crowd the bar, and holographic performers pulse across a massive screen. Neon lights streak across the floors and walls while bursts of pyro flare through the haze, capturing the chaotic energy that defines Omega’s nightlife. The track captures a perfect balance of euphoria and grit, evoking both the thrill and grime of Omega’s underworld. The club splits into two levels — the lower floor and the upper VIP section, where Aria waits. She’s an Asari, like many characters you’ve encountered up to that point, but something about her stands apart the moment you meet her. She’s tough, commanding, and refuses to rely on the allure most of her kind exude. She’s a femme fatale who feels more fatal than seductive. When Shepherd approaches, everyone around her draws their weapons, locking the crew into an instant standoff. Yet the music never stops, and no one even looks up — just another ordinary moment in Afterlife. When Shepherd asks if she runs Omega, Aria laughs softly, turns to face the room with open arms, and declares, “I am Omega.” Omega feels unlike any other location in Mass Effect; it feels like its own living, breathing character within the story. Unlike other planets visited, this one is strictly for the scum of this universe, where the laws of the civilized Terminus System don’t apply. The location itself comes off like the intergalactic version of Chinatown, somewhere the ne'er-do-wells write the rules and often come out the victors, and there isn’t another place like this all throughout the franchise. There’s no other tune like the one that plays in Afterlife, and there isn’t a tune from any of the games I can remember, except this one. It’s not just an amazing track; it helps define what Omega is, and music is never quite utilized in the same way at any other location in the game.
