Chapter 11: Eclipse's Poison - Part 2
POV: Marc Wayne
The warehouse exploded into chaos as Eclipse lockdown protocols engaged with military precision. Blast doors slammed shut with the finality of closing coffins, emergency lighting bathed everything in pulsing red, and automated turrets descended from concealed positions like mechanical predators sensing prey. Marc found himself trapped in a steel maze with very angry mercenaries who didn't care why he'd destroyed their mysterious cargo—only that he'd cost them money and prestige.
[FACILITY LOCKDOWN DETECTED]
[EXITS SEALED: 4/4]
[DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS: ACTIVE]
[HOSTILES: 12 DETECTED, ARMED AND ADVANCING]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: CALCULATING... 23%]
"Well," Marc muttered, checking his weapon's charge while Kreek bounced excitedly beside him, "at least the percentage is going up."
"Not the time for optimism," his rational mind supplied as the first Eclipse squad rounded the corner, their weapons already spitting death in his direction.
Marc's combat had evolved since his first panicked encounters with the Blood Pack. His movements carried calculated precision now, his System highlighting cover positions and enemy reload cycles with tactical clarity he'd never possessed as a software engineer from Seattle. His Four-Eyed Vision prevented ambushes, tracking threats from impossible angles while his enhanced reflexes carried him between positions with fluid grace.
An Eclipse Vanguard materialized from behind a support column, biotic corona flaring with lethal intent. Marc threw himself sideways as the biotic charge tore through the air where his head had been, feeling the alien energy field crackling against his enhanced senses like the promise of instant death.
[COMBAT FUNDAMENTALS: 28% → 35%]
[USER SURVIVAL INSTINCTS: IMPROVING]
[RECOMMENDATION: MAINTAIN MOMENTUM]
Kreek demonstrated why Vorcha were considered a galactic menace in enclosed spaces, his natural regeneration and pack instincts making him nearly unstoppable. The alien moved like controlled chaos, his claws finding gaps in Eclipse armor with surgical precision while his rapid-fire chatter provided running commentary on the tactical situation.
"Eclipse-scum think they clever!" Kreek shrieked, disemboweling a mercenary with enthusiasm that bordered on artistic. "But Kreek know better! Kreek and adapt-friend show proper hunting!"
Marc rolled behind an overturned desk as shotgun pellets turned the air above him into a metal storm. His regeneration was already closing wounds from near-misses, the familiar warmth of alien biology keeping him functional through damage that should have dropped him permanently.
"Getting shot is becoming routine," he realized with dark amusement. "That's probably not healthy for my psychological development."
They fought their way toward the exits through Eclipse mercs who displayed the kind of professional competence that came from years of surviving in the Terminus Systems. These weren't gang thugs or desperate refugees—they were soldiers who'd made violence into a science, and they adapted to Marc's unusual capabilities with disturbing speed.
[COMBAT FUNDAMENTALS: 35% → 41%]
[APPROACHING APPRENTICE TIER]
[NEW TACTICAL OPTIONS UNLOCKING]
The running gunfight carried them through corridor after corridor, past laboratories filled with equipment Marc didn't want to identify and holding cells that reeked of things better left unexamined. His enhanced hearing caught fragments of radio chatter—Eclipse commanders coordinating a response that involved much heavier firepower than he was currently facing.
"They're calling in reinforcements," Marc realized. "Whatever they were doing here, it was important enough to justify significant resources."
That's when they reached the main exit and found Captain Enyala waiting.
She stood in the corridor with the casual confidence of someone who'd never lost a fight that mattered, her Asari features carrying the kind of cold beauty that spoke of centuries spent perfecting the art of violence. Her biotic aura flickered around her like barely contained starfire, and her escort of Eclipse commandos spread out with the fluid precision of a unit that had worked together long enough to communicate through glances.
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME]
[TARGET: ASARI COMMANDO, ESTIMATED AGE 300+ YEARS]
[BIOTIC POTENTIAL: MAXIMUM]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY IN DIRECT COMBAT: 8%]
"You're the one who destroyed our research," Enyala said, her voice carrying the melodic tones of her species layered with absolute authority. "I'm curious—who sent you? Cerberus? The Shadow Broker? Or are you simply stupid enough to interfere with Eclipse operations for entertainment?"
Marc tried to formulate an explanation that wouldn't get him killed immediately. The truth—that he'd recognized Collector technology and destroyed it to prevent a premature galactic invasion—was both unbelievable and impossible to articulate thanks to his speech curse.
"Those things were dangerous," he said carefully. "They would have—"
His curse activated at the worst possible moment, transforming his warning into absurdist comedy: "Those bugs would have eaten everyone and started a dance competition!"
Enyala's expression shifted from professional curiosity to cold fury. "You think this is amusing? You destroyed months of research, killed my people, and now you mock me with nonsense?"
Her biotic corona flared with lethal intent, and Marc felt the weight of centuries of Asari military training focusing on him like a targeting laser. This wasn't Garm's straightforward brutality or the chaotic violence of gang warfare—this was a master of biotic combat who could probably liquify his internal organs with a gesture.
"Direct combat is suicide," Marc realized, his enhanced intelligence finally proving useful as he catalogued the tactical situation. "But maybe I don't need to fight her directly."
His System highlighted structural weaknesses in the corridor—support struts already damaged by the facility's lockdown, stressed joints in the ceiling plating, critical power conduits running through exposed channels. The warehouse had been built for function rather than durability, and the recent explosions had compromised its structural integrity.
"Kreek," Marc said quietly, "when I say 'chaos,' give me the biggest distraction you can manage."
The Vorcha's eyes brightened with predatory anticipation. "Kreek very good at chaos!"
Marc raised his weapon and began firing—not at Enyala or her commandos, but at the damaged support struts his System had identified. Each shot was precisely placed, targeting stress points and weak joints with accuracy his enhanced marksmanship made possible.
"Chaos!" he shouted.
Kreek exploded into motion, not attacking the Eclipse forces but instead activating every piece of equipment he could reach. Alarms shrieked, emergency lighting strobed faster, and automated systems began conflicting with each other in cascading failures that turned the corridor into sensory chaos.
Marc's final shot severed a critical support beam.
The ceiling came down with the slow-motion majesty of structural failure, tons of composite material and machinery crashing between Marc's position and Enyala's squad. Dust filled the air, emergency lighting failed completely, and the facility's life support systems began venting atmosphere through breaches in the hull.
Enyala's parting shot—a biotic throw that could have pulverized a Krogan—caught Marc as he dove for the newly opened emergency exit. The alien energy field sent him crashing through a bulkhead with enough force to crack ribs and compress his spine, but his Vorcha Regeneration was already working to repair the damage.
[MAJOR INJURIES SUSTAINED]
[REGENERATION ACTIVE: 3.2% HP/SECOND]
[STRUCTURAL DAMAGE TO RIBS: HEALING]
[ESTIMATED RECOVERY TIME: 47 MINUTES]
Marc crawled through Omega's ventilation system with Kreek at his side, his body slowly knitting itself back together while they navigated the maze of ducts and maintenance tunnels that ran throughout the station's superstructure. The air tasted of recycled atmosphere and industrial lubricants, but it was clean air that didn't carry the scent of immediate violence.
His omni-tool chimed with an incoming message. Anto's voice carried through the encrypted channel with carefully controlled concern: "Status report?"
"Mission accomplished," Marc wheezed, feeling his ribs settling back into their proper alignment. "Probably. Also, Eclipse wants to kill me now."
"Get in line," Anto replied without missing a beat.
[LEVEL UP!]
[CONGRATULATIONS: LEVEL 4 ACHIEVED]
[STATS INCREASED - BONUS POINTS AVAILABLE: 5]
[COMBAT FUNDAMENTALS: 41%]
[NEW ENEMY CATALOGUED: ASARI (DATABASE 12% COMPLETE)]
[NEW QUEST: "ENYALA'S GRUDGE"]
The advancement hit Marc like a surge of controlled lightning, his body adapting and improving according to parameters he was beginning to understand. He allocated his bonus points with growing expertise: +2 VIT for survival, +1 STR for combat effectiveness, +1 DEX for accuracy, +1 INT for tactical analysis.
His enhanced physiology made the changes immediately apparent—stronger muscles, faster reflexes, mental processing that operated with computer-like precision. He was becoming something the galaxy had never seen before, one level at a time.
Hours later, Marc emerged from the maintenance tunnels covered in filth, blood, and things he preferred not to identify. Kreek declared the entire experience "good bonding," which Marc supposed was Vorcha for "you didn't die on me, so our pack relationship is stronger."
The mission data was intact—recordings of the Seeker drones, fragments of Dr. Ree's research notes, evidence of Eclipse bioweapon trafficking that would satisfy Aria's requirements. But Marc's hands shook as he reviewed the files, knowing he'd just documented Collector presence years ahead of schedule.
[ACHIEVEMENT: TIMELINE DISRUPTION]
[EFFECTS: UNKNOWN]
[WARNING: CONTINUED DEVIATIONS MAY CAUSE CASCADING CHANGES]
The System offered no explanation for why Collector technology was appearing prematurely, no guidance on whether his intervention had prevented catastrophe or simply delayed it. Some changes, Marc was beginning to understand, he was causing just by existing in this reality.
The question that haunted him as he made his way back to civilization was whether he was making things better or catastrophically worse. In his memories of playing Mass Effect, the timeline had a certain inevitability—events that would occur regardless of player choices, characters whose fates were largely fixed despite the illusion of agency.
But this wasn't a game anymore. This was reality, and reality was proving far more fragile than any simulation.
As Marc walked through Omega's neon-lit corridors toward his meeting with Aria, he carried the weight of knowledge that couldn't be shared and decisions that might reshape the galaxy's future. The explosion in the Eclipse facility had been more than the destruction of dangerous technology—it had been his declaration that he was no longer a passive observer in the unfolding galactic drama.
He was a player now, for better or worse.
And the game was just beginning.
+1 CHAPTER AFTER EVERY 3 REVIEWS
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron . PS (One patreon member can make this or any of my fanfic update weekly since some will stop after hiting 20 to 25 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 20+ 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!