Chapter 29: Krogan Warlord's Legacy
Twelve hours. The legendary synthesis took twelve agonizing hours of my body screaming as genetic code rewrote itself at a fundamental level, creating something nature never intended. I lay in Solveli's laboratory chamber, convulsing as alien DNA merged with human physiology, while monitors tracked changes that should have killed me a dozen times over.
The pain was indescribable—every cell fighting against transformation, then surrendering to it, then embracing it with terrifying enthusiasm. My bones restructured themselves with audible cracks. Muscle fibers dissolved and rebuilt into something denser, stronger, more efficient. Neural pathways rewired to accommodate instincts that belonged to warrior species forged in the crucible of nuclear war.
"I'm becoming something else. Something that was never meant to exist."
When I finally emerged from the synthesis chamber, Solveli's scanner went haywire trying to catalog the changes. My reflection in the laboratory's polished surfaces showed a man who looked familiar but fundamentally altered. Enhanced muscle definition. Bone structure subtly changed to handle stresses no baseline human should survive. And my eyes—one brown, one now tinged with permanent red from integrated Blood Rage genetics.
[LEGENDARY GENE SYNTHESIS COMPLETE]
[KROGAN WARLORD'S LEGACY (LEGENDARY) SUCCESSFULLY INTEGRATED]
[EFFECTS: BELOW 50% HP - +150% DAMAGE, +400% REGENERATION, +80 STRENGTH, +60 VITALITY]
[DURATION: UNTIL COMBAT ENDS OR HP EXCEEDS 70%]
[WARNING: EXTENDED ACTIVATION MAY CAUSE PERSONALITY CHANGES]
[SUB-WARNING: AGGRESSION ENHANCEMENT, REDUCED EMPATHY, BLOODLUST RESPONSES]
[PERMANENT STAT CHANGES: +20 STRENGTH, +20 VITALITY, -5 CHARISMA]
The warning terrified me more than the power excited me. This wasn't just enhancement—it was a curse that could transform me into the monster everyone already feared I might become.
Dr. Solveli circled me like a predator studying prey, his scanners cataloging biological impossibilities.
"Fascinating," he breathed. "You've integrated genetic material that should be biologically incompatible. Your human genome is becoming a framework for alien evolution. The legendary synthesis has created something entirely unprecedented."
Miranda's hand found my shoulder, her touch grounding me to humanity even as alien instincts whispered promises of violence and dominance.
"How do you feel?" she asked, concern bleeding through clinical curiosity.
"Different," I admitted. "Stronger. But there's something else. Something that wants..."
"Blood. Combat. Domination. The Krogan way of solving problems."
"Something that wants to fight," I finished.
"The psychological integration is proceeding as expected," Solveli observed. "Krogan neural patterns are asserting influence over your behavior matrix. You'll need to monitor for—"
"For becoming a monster," I interrupted.
Two days later, Aria provided a testing ground—a warehouse full of Blood Pack volunteers who'd accepted generous compensation to help evaluate my new capabilities. Professional mercs, enhanced vorcha, even a few krogan who wanted to see what the "gene-stealing human" could do.
The early stages felt familiar—enhanced reflexes, improved strength, tactical awareness sharpened by Turian discipline. I moved through opponents with fluid efficiency, my Batarian Four-Eyed Vision tracking multiple threats while Varren Alpha Instinct coordinated with Kreek's pack for tactical support.
Then a lucky krogan landed a devastating biotic charge that sent me crashing through a support beam. Metal shredded enhanced muscle. Blood flowed from wounds that should have incapacitated me. My health dropped below fifty percent.
And the Warlord's Legacy activated.
The change was instantaneous and terrifying. Pain vanished, replaced by crystal-clear predatory focus. My strength surge felt like divine ascension—suddenly I could punch through kinetic barriers, shrug off attacks that would pulp baseline humans, regenerate through injuries faster than enemies could inflict them.
But the worst part was how right it felt.
Violence became poetry. Each strike was perfect, purposeful, beautiful in its efficiency. I tore through the remaining opponents with savage joy, my enhanced strength breaking bones with casual blows, my accelerated healing making me functionally immortal in combat.
When the last opponent fell, I stood in the center of carnage, breathing heavily, covered in blood that mostly wasn't mine. The berserker state faded slowly, leaving me horrifically aware of what I'd become.
Anto stood against the far wall, his rifle lowered but ready. In his predatory raptor eyes, I saw something I'd never expected to see: fear.
"Boss," he said quietly. "You weren't you anymore. You were something that just wanted to kill."
"He's right. For those minutes, I wasn't Marc Wayne. I was a Krogan warlord wearing human skin."
Kreek's pack clustered around me protectively, but even they seemed unsettled by what they'd witnessed. These were vorcha—creatures that lived for combat—and I'd frightened them with my savagery.
"The test subjects," I managed. "Are they—"
"Alive," Anto confirmed. "Barely. You held back enough to avoid killing, but just barely. If this had been real combat..."
I would have butchered them all without hesitation or regret.
That evening, Miranda reviewed combat footage in our laboratory while I sat in uncomfortable silence. Her hands shook slightly as she analyzed biometric data, her brilliant mind processing implications that made her pale.
"The aggression spike is unprecedented," she said, voice carefully controlled. "Loss of higher reasoning, enhanced pleasure response to violence, complete suppression of empathy protocols. Marcus, this gene isn't just rewriting your physical structure during activation—it's rewriting your neurochemistry. You're mentally becoming Krogan."
Her scanner displayed brain activity patterns that looked more alien than human during Warlord's Legacy activation.
"The legendary synthesis has permanent effects even when inactive," she continued. "Enhanced baseline strength and vitality, yes, but also unconscious aggressive body language, pheromone changes that make people instinctively wary, decreased social adaptability."
"I'm becoming the thing that scares children in nightmares. The monster that parents warn about."
"Is the power worth the cost?" I asked.
Miranda set down her scanner and moved closer, studying my face with those brilliant blue eyes that had learned to see past my defenses.
"That depends. Are you strong enough to control it, or will it control you?"
I thought of Harbinger, of Collector General drones, of the harvesting ships that would come for Omega's innocent population. Without legendary-tier power, I was just another enhanced human playing at being significant. With it...
"I need this strength," I said. "Whatever's coming, I need to be powerful enough to matter."
"Then we need safeguards." Miranda's expression grew serious. "I want you to promise me something. If you ever activate Warlord's Legacy around me and don't recognize me—if you see enemy instead of ally—I'm authorized to shut you down. Whatever it takes."
The intimacy of that trust hit me like a physical blow. She was volunteering to fight me—to risk her life to save me from myself—because she believed I was worth saving despite the monster I might become.
"She's willing to stand against a legendary-tier berserker to protect my humanity. How did I get so lucky?"
"Miranda..."
"Promise me," she insisted.
"I promise."
When she kissed me then, it was fierce and desperate and real—the kiss of someone choosing to love a man who might not exist tomorrow, who might be consumed by the power he'd gained to protect others.
[RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE: MIRANDA LAWSON]
[STATUS: ROMANTIC PARTNER - ESTABLISHED]
[SPECIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED: PERSONALITY ANCHOR]
[MIRANDA CAN STABILIZE MARC DURING LEGENDARY GENE ACTIVATION]
[FRIENDSHIP BAR: 85% → 95%]
That night, I stood before the mirror in our shared quarters, studying a reflection that barely looked human anymore. Silver streaks threaded through my hair from genetic stress. My heterochromatic eyes—one brown, one red—reflected light differently than baseline human optics should. Enhanced muscle density gave me the build of someone who'd never known weakness, while something predatory lurked in my posture that made civilians unconsciously step away.
[BIOLOGICAL ANALYSIS UPDATE]
[USER BIOLOGICAL HUMANITY: 73.4%]
[CONTINUING EVOLUTION PROJECTED TO REDUCE BASELINE HUMAN GENOME TO 40% BY LEVEL 25]
[SPECIES CLASSIFICATION: HUMAN VARIANT (UNPRECEDENTED)]
"How much can I change before I'm not me anymore?" I whispered to my reflection.
The System's response surprised me with its philosophical depth:
[IDENTITY IS CHOICE, NOT GENETICS]
[YOU REMAIN MARCUS WAYNE AS LONG AS YOU CHOOSE TO BE]
[RECOMMENDATION: DEFINE YOURSELF BY ACTIONS, NOT BIOLOGY]
[ADDENDUM: POWER WITHOUT MORAL FOUNDATION CREATES MONSTERS. MAINTAIN YOUR PRINCIPLES.]
I reached out to touch the mirror, watching enhanced muscles move under skin that felt too tight for what I'd become. The Krogan Warlord's Legacy thrummed beneath my consciousness like a caged predator, promising strength beyond measure if I'd just let it free.
But Miranda was right. The question wasn't whether I had the power to face what was coming. The question was whether I'd still be human enough to remember why fighting mattered.
Outside our window, Omega continued its eternal rotation, millions of lives depending on defenses I'd helped design and power I'd gained through choices that made me less than human. The irony wasn't lost on me—saving humanity might cost me my own.
But the System was right too. Identity was choice. And every day, I'd have to choose who Marcus Wayne was going to be—the man who'd woken up in a Cerberus lab, or the monster with legendary power who could tear through enemies like death incarnate.
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +300 XP FROM LEGENDARY SYNTHESIS]
[CURRENT XP: 1900/4000 TO LEVEL 8]
[NEW CHARACTER TRAIT: WARLORD'S PRESENCE]
[EFFECT: INTIMIDATION BONUS, BUT SOME NPCS WILL FEAR/DISTRUST MARC]
Tomorrow would bring new choices, new opportunities to prove that power could serve humanity instead of consuming it. But tonight, I allowed myself to grieve the man I'd been while embracing the weapon I'd become.
The Collectors were coming. When they arrived, they'd face something they'd never encountered before—a human who'd chosen to become a monster to protect the people he loved.
Let them come. I'd be ready.
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