Gene palace II

The isolation chamber had witnessed countless world-altering creations. It was, after all, the birthplace of Inerous. As Dax approached, a massive iron gate loomed before him, its surface etched with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with residual energy. The air was cool and heavy, carrying the faint scent of metal and something older, something almost alive.

**Life form detected.**

A black sphere descended from the gate, floating silently toward Dax. He stood still, unflinching—this was his creation, after all. The sphere emitted a red glow, scanning his face and retina with clinical precision.

**Welcome back, Master.**

The eerie red light shifted to green, and the gate groaned open, its hinges screeching like a wounded beast. Dax stepped inside, his boots echoing against the polished floor. The chamber was vast, its walls lined with shelves that held rows of vials and flasks. Each container glowed faintly, their contents a testament to Dax's centuries of work. Among them sat a bottle of 400-year-old Alcade wine, its deep crimson liquid shimmering like liquid fire. The wine was a rare treasure, brewed by the Gagarions and aged to perfection.

Dax walked to an empty white space in the center of the chamber, its starkness broken only by a drainage grate in the floor. He sat cross-legged, his posture relaxed but his mind already racing with plans.

"Ceron, serve me a glass of wine and prepare my surgical equipment," he commanded, his tone firm but laced with anticipation.

Instantly, Ceron served the wine. Dax took a sip, savoring its rich, complex flavor. The warmth spread through him, a fleeting comfort in the cold, sterile room. "Ahh. This would have been better with my Russian Twist cig," he mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Master, all tools have been sterilized," Ceron announced, presenting a tray of gleaming surgical instruments. Then, after a brief pause, it added, "I trust you will not bleed out again. Cleaning that was... troublesome."

Dax chuckled faintly, shaking his head. "You complain too much for a machine."

He gulped down the rest of the wine, the warmth spreading through him as he steeled his mind. Before beginning, he repeated the mantra he always recited before self-experimentation:

**"Pain is just an illusion created by the mind."**

Naturally, he could have ordered Inerous to turn off his pain receptors, but to Dax, enduring the agony firsthand was a test of will—a reminder of his own strength and resolve.

This time, he didn't devour the Gagarion. Instead, he sought to absorb its essence—its fighting styles, battle instincts, and the hidden secrets of its race. To Dax, this was more than an experiment; it was preparation for the strange, unforgiving world he now inhabited.

The first step of his plan was to synthesize the Gagarion's heart with his own. It was a technique he'd perfected in his past life, a method to steal the bloodlines of alien races and make their power his own.

Dax picked up the surgical blade, testing its sharpness on his thumb. A bead of blood welled, but he didn't flinch. The blade was no ordinary instrument—it was forged from the crust of a neutron star, its edge sharper than anything found in nature.

Without hesitation, he made an incision on his chest. The blade met his flesh, and a wave of searing heat surged through his nerves. His ribs parted like softened wax, his heartbeat hammering in his ears—but his hands remained steady, his mind unshaken. Blood streamed down his torso in thin, glistening rivulets, pooling near the drainage grate below.

The pain was excruciating, a firestorm of nerves screaming in protest. But Dax only inhaled deeply, his expression unreadable. This was power. This was evolution.

Ceron brought a massive mirror before Dax. **"Master, I believe this will be better than looking down at your chest."**

"Ooh, thank you, Ceron. You know me so well."

**"Master, no need for that. At least it's unlike someone who doesn't care about you,"** Ceron said in a taunting tone.

**"Ass kisser,"** Inerous replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she literally rolled her eyes.

Dax laughed, the sound echoing in the chamber, but his focus never wavered. He made a deep incision, swift and precise, before he began to lose too much blood. Placing his hand inside his chest, he held his own heart, dropping the blade to pick up the Gagarion's heart.

**"Flow!"** Dax commanded, and synth energy enveloped his palms. In that moment, a notification appeared before him:

**Do you wish to fuse your heart with the Gagarion's heart? Yes/No**

**Yes!** Instantly, black goo burst forth from Dax's palm, wrapping his heart and the Gagarion's together, forming a pulsating cocoon. As the fusion began, Dax noticed the cut on his chest starting to heal, the flesh knitting itself back together with unnatural speed.

**Gagarion bloodline acquired: 100%.**

"Remarkable. Surely this is the effect of Lesser Regeneration—a handy skill indeed," Dax murmured, intrigued but remaining focused. He let the skill do its work. The first step was complete.

Now came the taxing part: he had to come into contact with his brain to perform the fusion.

Dax poured himself another glass of wine, gulping its contents in one swift motion. "Ceron, bring ten bottles of Phoenix Spring. I believe there are some on my shelf."

The Phoenix Spring was a regenerative potion Dax had created in his past. Its primary ingredient was the blood of a space worm, and it could heal any injury—even revive someone on the edge of death.

As Ceron retrieved the potions, Dax began the next step. Without hesitation, he made a deep incision at the back of his skull. The blade cut through his bone, strengthened by his Abyss Scales, with surprising ease. Dax had expected some resistance.

"Well, I guess a dragon can't contend with the power of a star," he muttered, a wry smile playing on his lips.

He created an incision wide enough for his finger to pass through, repeating the procedure. Wrapping synth energy around his brain and the Gagarion's, he initiated the fusion. Black goo oozed from his fingertips, enveloping his brain and merging it with the Gagarion's brain.

**Synthesis complete.**

As the notification flashed before him, Dax's vision blurred. The chamber faded away, and he found himself standing on a vast battlefield. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood, the ground littered with the remnants of a brutal war. Dax's mind raced as he took in the scene, his new abilities humming beneath his skin, ready to be tested.