Effects Of A Gamer 11
Added 2025-09-18 15:58:39 +0000 UTCThe interrogation wing of C-Sec headquarters felt like a tomb carved from titanium and bad decisions. Cold holo-displays cast their unforgiving light across walls that had witnessed a thousand confessions, their surfaces reflecting Arthur's own grim expression as he strode through the security checkpoint. The acrid sting of turian disinfectant couldn't quite mask the lingering ozone smell from yesterday's biotic discharge. His biotic discharge, that had nearly leveled half of Docking Bay 94.
"He's in Room Three," Lieutenant Vakarian said, his mandibles drawn tight against his face in what Arthur had learned to recognize as barely controlled disgust. "Been twitching like a pyjak on red sand since we brought him in."
Santana fell into step beside them, her hand resting on her sidearm. "Can't believe Kirrin was the mole. That little pendejo processed intel for half the ward."
Arthur's enhanced senses picked up the rapid heartbeat emanating from behind the reinforced door ahead. His Interface HUD painted thermal signatures through the walls. One salarian, core temperature elevated, stress hormones off the charts. Good. Fear made people sloppy.
The door hissed open, revealing Officer Kirrin slumped in a metal chair, his large eyes blinking in that rapid-fire pattern unique to guilty salarians. His usually pristine C-Sec uniform was wrinkled, and his fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on the table's surface.
"Morrigan," Kirrin's voice cracked, the natural salarian flange wavering. "This is, this is a misunderstanding. I can explain."
"Save it." Arthur pulled out the chair across from him, the metal scraping against the floor slowly. He set Kirrin's confiscated omni-tool on the table between them. "Your encryption was decent. Took me almost thirty seconds to crack."
Vakarian's mandibles twitched; the turian equivalent of raised eyebrows. Arthur activated the omni-tool, holographic displays blooming to life. Lines of code cascaded past, each decryption algorithm falling before his enhanced cognition like dominoes.
"Let's see what you've been hiding." Arthur's fingers danced through the interface, pulling up message after message. "Shipment schedules. Security rotations. My patrol routes." He paused, eyes narrowing. "And communications with a group calling themselves the 'Terra Firma Liberation Front.' Cute name. Very subtle."
Kirrin's throat sac inflated, a panic response. "You don't understand! They said they just wanted to protect human interests! The First Contact War..."
"Was four years ago," Santana interrupted, her voice sharp. "We have peace now, cabrón."
Arthur's Codex Archive trait fired at maximum efficiency, cross-referencing the extremist cell's methodology with his knowledge of the Mass Effect timeline. Proto-Cerberus, his mind whispered, though that name wouldn't exist for years yet. These were the seeds: xenophobic humans who saw alien cooperation as weakness, who believed humanity should stand alone or stand above.
"They're not just angry about the war," Arthur said, pulling up deeper files. "They're interested in something else. Biotic enhancement programs. Alien technology acquisition." He leaned forward. "What were they planning to do with my biotic signature data?"
Kirrin's eyes darted between them like a cornered animal. "I don't know! They said they needed baseline readings, comparative analysis between human and asari biotic manifestation. For defensive purposes!"
"Defensive." Vakarian's voice dripped contempt. "Is that what you call setting up an ambush that nearly killed three officers?"
Arthur felt the familiar tingle of experience points flooding his system. The investigation, the combat, the revelations; it all crystallized into tangible growth. Level 10. The interface bloomed in his peripheral vision, and he mentally allocated five points to Charisma, feeling his presence sharpen, his ability to command and intimidate crystallizing.
He stood slowly, letting his new charismatic weight fill the room. Kirrin shrank back.
"Here's what's going to happen," Arthur said, his voice carrying an edge that made even Vakarian shift slightly. "You're going to tell us everything. Every contact, every dead drop, every credit transfer. Or I'm going to recommend you for a deep dive interrogation with STG. I hear salarian intelligence services are particularly thorough with traitors."
Kirrin broke. "Omega! My contact is on Omega! Goes by the name Vortex, operates out of the Afterlife's lower levels. That's all I know, I swear on the Wheel!"
A sudden chime in Arthur's mind announced an unexpected bonus. The gacha system activated, responding to his level milestone. The roll completed instantly, and knowledge flooded his consciousness.
[Pulse Cascade Unlocked - Level 1/10]
Create chain-reaction biotic explosions that jump between targets. Damage and chain count scale with Willpower.
Arthur staggered slightly as the new biotic technique integrated with his nervous system. He felt warm liquid on his upper lip. Another nosebleed. The Singularity Core was growing stronger, but his body was struggling to keep pace.
"That's enough," Vakarian said, gesturing to the door. "Kirrin, you're under arrest for treason, conspiracy, and violation of your C-Sec oath. May the spirits help you, because the Council won't."
Two turian officers entered and hauled the trembling salarian away. As the door sealed, Santana handed Arthur a cloth.
"Your nose is bleeding again, jefe. That's the third time this week."
Arthur dabbed at the blood, his Interface HUD flashing warnings about biotic instability and Council surveillance protocols. They were watching him closer than ever now.
"I need to see someone about this," he admitted. "Matriarch Aethyta on Illium. She's... experienced with unusual biotic manifestations. Santana recommended her."
Vakarian studied him for a long moment. "Illium's a two-day relay jump. You'll miss your shifts."
"I'll make it up. Process extra cases when I return."
The turian's mandibles relaxed slightly; as close to a smile as he ever got. "See that you do. And Morrigan? Whatever those extremists want with biotic data... be careful. The peace between our species is still fragile."
Arthur nodded, already planning his departure. The Terra Firma Liberation Front, Omega contacts, biotic experiments; all pieces of a puzzle that would eventually spell 'Cerberus.' But for now, he had more immediate concerns. His power was growing faster than his control, and if he didn't find balance soon, he'd burn out before the real threats arrived.
The interrogation room's door sealed behind them with a finite hiss, but Arthur knew this was far from over. In the shadows of the galaxy, humanity's darkest impulses were taking shape, and he was caught between evolution and explosion, racing against time and his own unstable flesh.
His Interface HUD pulsed one final warning: Council Intelligence Surveillance Active. Maintain operational security.
Fucking Snoopers.
The Presidium's artificial twilight painted Arthur's apartment in shades of violet and gold, the programmed sunset casting long shadows across furniture that cost more than most colonists saw in a lifetime. Through the panoramic window, the Citadel's wards sparkled like a galaxy turned inside out, millions of lives compressed into geometric perfection. The air hummed with the white noise of climate purifiers and the faint electric buzz of his heavily modified omni-tool.
Arthur sat hunched over his workstation, fingers dancing through holographic displays as Kirrin's decrypted data unfurled before him. His enhanced Intelligence parsed patterns that would have taken teams of analysts weeks to uncover. Names, dates, credit transfers; a web of connections spreading from the Citadel to the Terminus Systems like cancer metastasizing through healthy tissue.
"Victor Manswell," he murmured, pulling up a personnel file. Former Alliance, dishonorably discharged after Shanxi. The man's scarred face stared back from the holo, eyes burning with the particular brand of hatred that came from humiliation. "Operating out of Omega's Kenzo District. Funding source: unknown. But these equipment manifests..."
Arthur's fingers paused. Biotic amplifiers, yes, but modified with components that didn't match any known manufacturer. The specifications were familiar in a way that made his skin crawl. Reaper tech derivatives, his mind whispered, though that was impossible. The Reapers were still centuries away from discovery. Unless...
He forced the thought down, labeling the files simply as "extremist biotic experiments" in his encrypted notes. Some knowledge was too dangerous to commit to any system, no matter how secure.
The Stellar Cartographer's Core pulsed against his chest, its alien warmth spreading through his nervous system. Without conscious thought, Arthur activated it, feeling the artifact's awareness expand beyond the confines of his apartment. Star charts bloomed in his mind's eye, overlaying reality with cosmic cartography. There: a system near Omega, uncharted on any official map. The element zero signature was staggering, an entire asteroid belt saturated with the precious material.
Electric sensation tingled across his scalp as the Core fed him coordinates. Another fortune waiting to be claimed, another tool in his arsenal against the coming darkness. But first, he had to survive the present.
[Level Up! You have reached Level 11]
[7 Attribute Points Available]
The familiar rush of advancement flooded his system. Arthur allocated the points: four to Dexterity, feeling his reflexes sharpen to near-superhuman levels, and three to Luck, that most ephemeral of stats. As the changes integrated, his movements became fluid, predatory. When he reached for his coffee, his hand moved with the precise economy of a trained assassin.
[Dexterity: 19/50]
[Luck: 18/50]
[Gacha System Activated - Rolling...]
The cosmic slot machine in his soul spun, reality bending around possibilities. When it settled, new knowledge burned into his consciousness like a brand.
[Holo-Decoy Matrix Unlocked - Level 1/10]
Project convincing holographic duplicates. Decoy count and duration scale with Dexterity.
Arthur flexed his fingers experimentally, watching as a perfect copy of himself flickered into existence beside his chair. The hologram mimicked his movements with a half-second delay, substantial enough to fool sensors and confuse enemies. At higher levels, he could probably maintain an entire squad of duplicates. The tactical applications were staggering.
His omni-tool chimed with an urgent extranet alert. The financial networks were in chaos; element zero prices had crashed twenty percent in the last hour alone. Volus traders were calling for investigations, and several mining consortiums had filed formal protests with the Council.
A priority message from Councilor Valern appeared, the salarian's amphibian features tight with suspicion. "Mr. Morrigan. The Council requires immediate transparency regarding Aeon Industries' market activities. Your cooperation is not optional."
Arthur smiled thinly. Let them posture. His lawyers were already three moves ahead, and his holdings were distributed through so many shell companies it would take their investigators years to untangle. By then, he'd have accumulated enough resources to be untouchable.
He stood, moving to his workshop where half-assembled weapons covered every surface. His latest creation drew him like a magnet: a pistol unlike anything in the current galactic arsenal. The frame was custom-forged from materials that wouldn't be "discovered" for another decade, and the mass effect core was his own design, incorporating biotic energy channeling that should have been impossible.
[Crafting: Kinetic Disruptor]
[Armsmith Ascendant 30/30 - Maximum Efficiency Achieved]
His fingers moved with speed, each component sliding into place with microscopic perfection. Element zero residue made his hands tingle as he integrated the biotic focusing array. This weapon wouldn't just pierce kinetic barriers; it would destabilize them entirely, turning an enemy's defenses into a liability.
The final component clicked home, and the weapon hummed to life. Beautiful. Deadly. His.
Arthur holstered the Disruptor and began packing. Light travel only; his enhanced constitution could handle most environments without specialized gear. The extremists would retaliate soon. Kirrin's capture had likely triggered a dozen contingency plans. But they didn't know what they were truly dealing with. How could they? He was an impossibility, a man with knowledge of futures that might never come to pass, armed with powers that bent the laws of physics.
His Interface pinged one last warning as he sealed his apartment:
[Choice Echo (MAX): Extremist retaliation probability 94.7%. Multiple futures converging on violent confrontation. Your actions have accelerated certain timeline events.]
"Good," Arthur said to the empty room. "Let them come."
The courier ship to Illium was cramped, utilitarian, designed for speed over comfort. Arthur settled into his cabin, feeling the recycled air press against his skin like a premonition. Through the porthole, the Citadel shrank to a glittering jewel, then vanished entirely as they hit the relay.
Two days to Illium. Two days to find Matriarch Aethyta and learn to control the nuclear reactor growing in his chest. Two days before the extremists, before proto-Cerberus, made their move.
Arthur closed his eyes, feeling the ship's mass effect core resonate with his own biotic field. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he saw branching possibilities, futures spreading like fractal patterns. In some, he burned out, consumed by his own power. In others, he became something worse than what he fought against.
But in a precious few, he found balance. Purpose. A way to save them all without losing himself.
The ship lurched as it entered FTL, racing toward destiny at speeds that mocked Einstein. Arthur smiled grimly. Time to see which future would claim him.
The Eternity Bar pulsed with life, its neon heartbeat casting purple and gold across smoke that tasted of expensive mistakes and cheaper regrets. Arthur's enhanced senses catalogued everything: the sweet burn of thessian brandy mixing with ozone from a dozen biotic auras, the subsonic thrum of Nos Astra's skyline vibrating through the floor like a planetary pulse. Asari dancers moved in the corner, their bodies painting stories in light and shadow while patrons nursed drinks that cost more than a freighter's fuel.
He spotted her immediately. Matriarch Aethyta stood behind the bar like a monument to survival, her thousand-year-old hands polishing a glass with the same casual skill she'd probably used to snap necks. Her crest bore the scars of centuries, and her eyes; fuck, those eyes held the weight of watching civilizations rise and burn.
"You Morrigan?" Her voice cut through the din like a biotic blade. "The human making my customers nervous with that nuclear reactor you call a biotic field?"
Arthur approached, feeling curious gazes track his movement. "Guilty. Though 'nuclear reactor' might be underselling it."
"Sit." She poured two glasses of something that glowed faintly blue. "Drink. If you're going to waste my time, at least buy something expensive first."
The liquor hit like a mass accelerator round, burning down his throat before settling into a warm pulse in his chest. His Singularity Core resonated with it, sending ripples through his water glass.
"Goddess's tits," Aethyta muttered. "You're not just unstable. You're a fucking bomb waiting for a detonator." She came around the bar, her movements deceptively casual. "Stand up. Let's see what we're working with."
"Here? In the middle of—"
"What, you shy? Move."
The crowd parted as Aethyta led him to a cleared space near the dancers. Whispers followed like smoke trails. Arthur caught fragments: "human biotic," "Matriarch-level power," "impossible."
"Generate a field," Aethyta commanded. "Small. Controlled. Like you're picking up a glass, not crushing a skull."
Arthur reached for his power, and immediately knew something was wrong. The Singularity Core didn't respond to gentle requests. It erupted.
Tables flew. Glasses shattered. The very air warped as gravity bent around him like reality's spine breaking. Patrons screamed, diving for cover as a miniature black hole formed above his palm, hungry and growing.
Aethyta moved faster than her age suggested. Her own biotics flared; not to attack, but to contain. She wrapped his chaos in layers of controlled energy, her expertise turning his explosion into an implosion.
"Breathe, you stupid pyjak!" She grabbed his shoulders, her touch grounding him. "You're trying to muscle it. Biotics isn't about force; it's about flow. Feel the eezo in your nerves. Don't command it. Dance with it."
Arthur forced his breathing to slow, following her guidance. The singularity stabilized, then faded. Around them, the bar looked like a war zone. Overturned furniture, spilled drinks, terrified faces.
"Everyone calm your tits," Aethyta announced. "Free round on the house. Show's over."
She dragged Arthur to a private booth, activating privacy fields that hummed with military-grade encryption.
"You're not just powerful," she said, studying him with those ancient eyes. "You're something else. That core... I've never felt anything like it. Not in a thousand years."
"I need control," Arthur admitted. "There are threats coming. Things that…." He caught himself. "Things that require more than raw power to stop."
"Threats?" She leaned back. "The kind that has a human developing Matriarch-level biotics in months instead of centuries. The kind that has you looking at me like I'm your last hope before you go supernova."
"Something like that."
Aethyta remained silent for several long, calculating moments, her ancient eyes boring into him with an intensity that could have melted steel. Then she snorted; a harsh, disbelieving sound that carried centuries of cynicism.
"Humanity's been part of the galactic community for what, a handful of years? Barely out of diapers in cosmic terms." She shook her head, violet skin catching the bar's dim lighting. "And here sits one of you pink monkeys with enough biotic juice to make thousand-year-old matriarchs cream their panties, talking like the galaxy's about to end tomorrow."
The words hung between them, heavy with implications. Her fingers drummed against the table; a nervous habit she'd developed during the Rachni Wars and never quite shaken.
"Alright, human." She stood abruptly, her presence filling the booth despite her casual posture. "We do this, we do it my way. No arguments, no questions, no heroic bullshit." A predatory smile crossed her features. "Strip."
"Excuse me?"
"Your shirt. Off. Need to see your nervous system while you channel. Biotics is biology as much as willpower."
Arthur complied, revealing a torso marked by scars and the faint blue tracery of eezo exposure. Aethyta's fingers traced the patterns, clinical and precise.
"Your pathways are completely fucked," she muttered, her fingers following the eezo traces. "Not the worst I've seen by a longshot; some asari maidens are born with their neural pathways this twisted, but our bodies naturally correct the misalignment as we mature. But humans?" She snorted derisively. "You pink monkeys weren't born with biotics. Someone shoved eezo into your system and hoped for the best. It's like cramming a dreadnought's power core into a frigate's hull and praying the whole thing doesn't tear itself apart at the seams."
Her hands paused at a particularly chaotic junction near his shoulder blade, where the blue tracery spiraled in impossible patterns.
"If you gave it time, stopped using biotics entirely, let your body rest, the pathways would eventually stabilize on their own. Human adaptability and all that shit." She moved behind him, her presence a weight of centuries. "But you don't have that luxury, do you? No wonder you're bleeding from your nose every time you so much as sneeze too hard."
She placed a credit chit on the table.
"Generate a field," she commanded. "Tiny. Microscopic. Just enough energy to lift this chit. Nothing more."
For three hours, she guided him through exercises that seemed insultingly basic. Lift a chit. Hold it steady. Lower it without breaking it. Each success brought harder challenges, each failure brought sharp corrections. Sweat soaked through his clothes. Blood dripped from his nose. But slowly, agonizingly, control emerged from chaos.
[Level Up! You have reached Level 12]
[10 Attribute Points Available]
Arthur allocated instantly: five to Endurance, feeling his body's resilience solidify, and five to Willpower, his mental control sharpening like a blade finding its edge.
[Gacha System Activated - Rolling...]
[Void Shield Unlocked - Level 1/10]
Generate a biotic barrier that absorbs incoming energy. Strength scales with Willpower.
Knowledge flooded him. Not an attack, but a defense; a way to turn his unstable power into an unbreakable wall. He activated it instinctively, watching dark energy coalesce around him like armor made of collapsed stars.
"Now that's interesting," Aethyta said. "You're learning to work with the chaos instead of against it. Good. You might not explode after all." She moved to a locked cabinet, withdrawing something that made Arthur's enhanced senses sing. "Caught me in a generous mood. Plus, if you're going to fight whatever's got you this spooked, you'll need proper equipment."
The biotic amp was a work of art. Custom-designed, incorporating elements Arthur recognized from his own crafting knowledge but arranged with an elegance only centuries of experience could achieve.
[Received: Aethyta's Biotic Amp]
Legendary item. Stabilizes Singularity Core output. +5 to all biotic abilities. Reduces biotic fatigue by 40%.
"This is... how did you...?"
"I'm old, not dead. Been tinkering with amp designs since before your species discovered fire. This one's special. Made for someone with your particular problem." She paused. "Someone who talks for some reason like they might be facing the kind of threats that keep even Matriarchs awake at night."
Arthur met her gaze. "If things go bad, really bad, can I count on you?"
"Kid, I've lived long enough to know when someone's carrying the weight of the future on their shoulders. Yeah, you can count on me."
"Thank you," he said simply.
"Don't thank me yet." She poured another drink. "Now get out of my bar before you break something else. And Morrigan? Next time you feel that core getting unstable, remember: flow, not force. Might save your life."
Arthur left through the back exit, Nos Astra's neon glow painting him in shades of possibility. Three days to Omega. Three days to prepare for whatever Manswell and his extremists had planned.
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Arthur Morrigan’s Updated Stats.
Core Attributes:
Strength: 18/50
Dexterity: 19/50
Endurance: 20/50
Intelligence: 20/50
Willpower: 25/50
Charisma: 20/50
Luck: 18/50
Primary Traits:
Gamer’s Mind (MAX)
Gamer’s Body (MAX)
Interface HUD (MAX)
Class System (MAX)
Choice Echo (MAX)
Singularity Core (MAX)
Combat Traits:
Mixed Martial Arts (6/10)
Nanotech & Drone Crafter (5/10)
Pulse Cascade (1/10)
Holo-Decoy Matrix (1/10)
Void Shield (1/10)
Knowledge Traits:
Galactic Scholar (MAX)
Xenobiologist (MAX)
Cultural Chameleon (MAX)
Protocol Sync (MAX)
Codex Archive (MAX)
Engineering & Crafting Skills:
Armsmith Ascendant (30/30)
Galactic Engineer (12/30)
Drive Architect (12/30)
Macro-Structural Vision (12/30)
Planetary Defense Architect (12/30)
Weaponsmith of the Void (12/30)
Integrated Systems Mastery (12/30)
Reverse-Engineer (12/30)
Administration (1/10)
Weapons:
Predator Mk. X
Quantum Blade
Custom Biotic Rifle
Kinetic Disruptor (new, biotic-infused pistol with nanite swarm mode)
Equipment:
Aeon Industries credentials and omni-tool
Nanite-enhanced armor (Nanotech & Drone Crafter 6/10)
AI-enhanced omni-tool (Integrated Systems Mastery 12/30)
Aethyta’s Biotic Amp (enhances Singularity Core)
Artifact:
Stellar Cartographer’s Core
System Status:
Current Level: 12
XP to Next Level: 1500
Available Attribute Points: 0
Gacha Rolls Available: 0
Active Quests:
Galactic Gambit: Secure eezo, dismantle xenophobic extremists, shape Shepard’s future.
Shape the Savior: Protect Shepard’s path, secure Prothean beacon.
Comments
Also confused about his points, one level he earns 10 points, but this level he earns 7?
Alex I
2025-09-18 22:04:11 +0000 UTCNot centuries out from discovery, a century is 100 years. The reapers are decades from canon discovery.
Alex I
2025-09-18 22:02:32 +0000 UTCTftc
travis btmb
2025-09-18 17:57:05 +0000 UTC