Chapter 33: Aftermath and Evolution
The week after the Collector assault was a study in contrasts—rubble and reconstruction, mourning and desperate fortification, the smell of disinfectant struggling to mask the scent of burned organics. I moved through Omega's recovery efforts like a ghost haunting his own funeral, helping with body recovery while knowing I'd failed the people we couldn't save.
"Two hundred and thirty-seven. I keep counting them like rosary beads of guilt."
The families were the worst part. Desperate relatives clutching photos, begging for information about their missing loved ones. Hope dying in their eyes as they realized no one was coming back from Collector captivity.
"Please," a human woman grabbed my arm as I passed. "My daughter, she was in the market district. Sarah Chen, seventeen years old. Have you seen her? Do you know anything?"
I tried to explain what happened to Collector prisoners, but my speech curse twisted the words into madness.
"They're being turned into ingredients for a giant human smoothie robot!"
The woman stared at me with the look people reserve for the dangerously insane, then backed away. I watched her go, frustration building like pressure in a damaged reactor core.
"I know exactly what's happening to her daughter. She's being processed into genetic material for the Human-Reaper project. And I sound like a lunatic when I try to warn anyone."
The breakdown hit me in a maintenance corridor between recovery shifts. Just suddenly collapsed against a wall, shaking with rage and grief and the terrible weight of knowledge I couldn't share. Two hundred and thirty-seven people were going to become building blocks for a Reaper designed to destroy the very species they belonged to, and no one would ever know their names or honor their sacrifice.
Miranda found me there an hour later.
She didn't offer platitudes or false comfort. Just sat beside me on the grimy floor, her presence a solid anchor in the storm of self-recrimination.
"You saved thousands," she said quietly. "That has to matter more than the hundreds you couldn't."
"Does it?" I asked. "Because all I can think about are the faces of people who trusted me to protect them."
"Sarah Chen. Seventeen years old. What were her dreams? What did she want to become before insectoid nightmares turned her into raw material?"
"That's what makes you worth saving," Miranda replied. "You care about the individual losses, not just the statistical victory. Cerberus would call that a weakness. I call it humanity."
She was right intellectually. But emotionally, I was drowning in the weight of specific failures.
Then Kreek appeared, carrying something in his clawed hands—dead rats, fresh kills, carefully arranged. His pack clustered behind him, all of them watching me with the patient attention of predators assessing wounded prey.
"Pack-brother hurts," Kreek said in his broken English. "Kreek brings kills. Good kills. Pack shares strength."
It was absurd. Touching. A gesture of comfort from creatures most people considered barely sapient vermin. I started laughing—first as a chuckle, then building to nearly hysterical relief as stress found an outlet.
"Even the vorcha understand pack loyalty better than most humans. They're trying to help in the only way they know how."
"Thank you, Kreek," I managed through laughter and tears. "Tell the pack I'm honored by their gifts."
The vorcha clicked with satisfaction, then settled in around us like a living security perimeter. Miranda watched the interaction with scientific fascination and personal warmth.
"You've built something unique here," she observed. "Cross-species cooperation based on mutual respect rather than hierarchy. Most humans couldn't achieve what you have with them."
"Maybe that's what genetic integration really offers. Not just enhanced abilities, but the capacity to understand other species' emotional frameworks."
Dr. Solveli's analysis three days later confirmed my fears and hopes in equal measure. His laboratory hummed with scanners and synthesis equipment as he catalogued the changes the Collector assault had wrought in my genetic structure.
"Level 8," he announced, reviewing data streams that painted my biology in holographic detail. "Four active gene slots with legendary-tier capabilities. Combat skills approaching Expert classification. Genetic integration at seventy-three percent human baseline."
His scanner beeped with readings that made him pause, mandibles twitching with scientific concern.
"But Marcus, your evolution is accelerating exponentially. The legendary synthesis opened new pathways in your genetic architecture. At current progression rates, you'll reach biological singularity—complete genetic fluidity—by Level 25."
"Genetic fluidity. The ability to integrate any gene instantly, but no fixed biology to anchor identity to."
"What does that mean, practically?" I asked.
"It means you'll be able to integrate any gene instantly, adapt to any environment, become essentially immortal through continuous regeneration and adaptation. But you'll also lose fixed biology entirely. You'll become something unprecedented—possibly beyond the definition of any known species."
Miranda's expression grew troubled as she processed the implications.
"He's asking if you want to slow down your evolution," she said. "Maintain more human baseline characteristics instead of transcending species boundaries entirely."
I thought of Harbinger. Of Collector generals and Reaper agents. Of the ancient intelligences that had been harvesting galactic civilization since before humanity learned to make fire. Could baseline human limitations, even enhanced ones, ever be enough against forces that had destroyed countless advanced civilizations?
"No," I said. "I need to be strong enough. If losing humanity is the price for saving humanity, I'll pay it."
"The irony is perfect. Save humanity by becoming something that's no longer human. But if that's what it takes..."
Solveli nodded with professional understanding. "Then we should optimize your evolution for maximum strategic value. With Aria's payment, you can afford rare gene samples from Omega's black markets."
He activated his simulation mode, displaying purchase options with detailed analysis of synthesis potential.
"Asari Biotic Heritage—rare tier, requires twenty-nine percent additional database completion or eighty thousand credits for a black market sample. Potential synthesis with Krogan genes could create 'Fury Conduit'—legendary biotic berserker capabilities."
"Quarian Tech Savant—rare tier, available for purchase at seventy thousand credits. Potential synthesis with existing genes could create 'Adaptive Technologist'—legendary tech and biology hybrid."
"Tech capabilities would give me versatility. Engineering-class combat roles, hacking abilities, enhanced shield management. More options in combat beyond raw strength."
"The Quarian gene," I decided. "Technological adaptation will multiply my strategic options."
Solveli processed the purchase while Miranda reviewed synthesis projections. Eighty thousand credits—a fortune by most standards, but affordable given Aria's generous payment for defending Omega.
[STAT ASSIGNMENT FROM LEVEL 8: +5 BONUS POINTS ALLOCATED]
[+2 WILL (BIOTIC PREPARATION), +2 INT (SYNTHESIS SUCCESS), +1 VIT (SURVIVAL)]
[QUARIAN TECH SAVANT (RARE) PURCHASED AND ACQUIRED]
[CREDITS: 500,000 - 80,000 = 420,000 REMAINING]
[DATABASE UPDATED: 25 SPECIES CATALOGED]
[CHARACTER STATUS: "DEFENDER OF OMEGA" (GRANTS RESPECT FROM OMEGA RESIDENTS)]
That night, I integrated the Quarian gene in Solveli's synthesis chamber. The process was less traumatic than legendary synthesis but still profound—cellular restructuring as alien genetics merged with my increasingly hybrid biology.
When integration completed, technology suddenly made intuitive sense. Circuit patterns became as readable as text. Network architectures revealed themselves like tactical maps. My shield generators hummed with enhanced efficiency as Quarian engineering expertise merged with human adaptability.
[TECH STAT INCREASED: +30 FROM GENE INTEGRATION]
[USER NOW VIABLE FOR ENGINEER-CLASS COMBAT ROLES]
[NEW LOADOUT AVAILABLE: "TECH SPECIALIST"]
I experimented with loadout configurations, creating specialized builds for different tactical scenarios:
"Tech Specialist": [Quarian Tech Savant] [Batarian Four-Eyed Vision] [Turian Marksmanship] [Open Slot]
"Combat Predator": [Krogan Warlord's Legacy] [Varren Alpha Instinct] [Batarian Four-Eyed Vision] [Turian Marksmanship]
"Balanced Operative": [Turian Marksmanship] [Batarian Four-Eyed Vision] [Quarian Tech Savant] [Varren Alpha Instinct]
"Versatility. The ability to adapt my capabilities to match tactical requirements. Maybe this is how I survive what's coming—not through raw power alone, but through strategic flexibility."
Miranda watched me test interface connections with Omega's networks, hacking into systems with frightening ease.
"You're becoming something remarkable," she observed. "Not just enhanced human, but a hybrid intelligence that combines the best aspects of multiple species."
"And losing my species identity in the process," I replied. "Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder if Marc Wayne is still in there, or if I'm just genetic memories wearing his face."
"Seventy-three percent human baseline. How much can I change before I stop being me?"
She took my enhanced hands in hers, studying the subtle differences that marked me as something beyond baseline human.
"Identity isn't genetics," she said. "It's choice. You remain Marcus Wayne as long as you choose to be Marcus Wayne. The genes give you options. What you do with them defines who you are."
"The System said something similar once. Maybe they're both right. Maybe humanity is about more than DNA."
[SKILLS DEVELOPING: COMBAT (EXPERT 75%), LEADERSHIP (JOURNEYMAN 52%)]
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: TECH WARFARE (APPRENTICE 23%)]
Outside our window, Omega continued its eternal rotation. Construction crews worked around the clock, repairing damage while implementing additional defensive measures. The station was adapting, growing stronger, preparing for threats that most inhabitants couldn't imagine.
Just like me.
The question was whether either of us would still recognize ourselves when the real war began.
+1 CHAPTER AFTER EVERY 3 REVIEWS
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
Love [ Mass Effect: Adaptive Predator ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Mass Effect: Adaptive Predator ] with exclusive access to 40+ chapters on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $6/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ In The Witcher With Avatar Powers,In The Vikings With Deja Vu System,Stranger Things Demogorgon Tamer ...].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!