When Talos heard the other party mention his genetic seeds, his face swelled up and then responded coldly:
“No need.”
Facing Talos' rejection, something flashed in Valer's cold eyes, and an unknown emotion flashed across his face.
"Talos, don't avoid the problem, you're about to die."
The pharmacist lowered his voice.
"I've saved you before, but I'm not sure if I can save you again."
"It's too alarmist."
Talos replied, although his blood had become cold.
"I'm fine, but I'm just having some old problems."
"Why do you have to deceive yourself? Your body is tortured by your genetic seeds. You are old, Talos... Although the blessing of the Primarch makes your appearance almost unchanged, you have been in the physical universe for too long, longer than any living Astarte in the empire today. Even fearlessness needs to stay in the static force field for a long time. There may be ten thousand kinds of bad things in the Eye of Fear, but at least one point, Astarte in it will have a long natural lifespan."
Talos didn't reply, but just jumped out of the bed and reached for the robe hanging on the hanger.
"...... When you are injured one after another, your regeneration process is accelerating your collapse. You can no longer heal the damage caused to your body by the curse of the Primrose. The screening mechanism of the Great Expedition era is not as strict as in later generations. Some gene seeds have unknown mutations, and you are one of them."
Talos was silent for a moment, and Charles' dream talk was played back in his mind, and he spoke in unison with Valer's dream talk.
The Prophet put on his robe and his marble face turned to the rest of the room.
"This is just a guess."
"It is true that although I have little experience in dealing with the physiological functions of the first generation of Legion soldiers, I was able to maintain the Black Heart King's resilience for more than a decade, which was the result of working with fools who used powerful magic, and I understand my own skills, Talos, when you were in a coma, you were dying, and part of your body was no longer working."
After saying that, the pharmacist pointed to a larger surgical bed, and the ceiling above the surgical bed was a multi-limbed arachnid machine, with a variety of scanners, cutters and probes at the end of each connected iron limb.
"I want to check you in more detail when you are awake, so that I can go deeper."
Talos acquiesced.
Half an hour later—
"have a look--"
Valell taps the monitor and covers the hollowed-out chart on it.
"Did you see the correlation?"
Talos stared at the hologram and hundreds of lines of rune symbols, and then shook his head.
"No, I don't."
"It's hard to believe that you used to be a pharmacist."
Valer was angry rarely, but
Talos didn't care, but pointed to the reading above.
"I can see defects in the body structure, I can see damage to the activity of the cerebral cortex and unreasonable peaks, I'm not saying I can't understand, Valer, I'm saying, I can't see anything special about it."
Valier hesitated for a moment and tried to change his method.
“Can you identify at least the peaks of brain limbic activity and see other signals listed as potential endpoints?”
"I identified this possibility, which is hard to say conclusive, and may indicate that the rest of my life will be spent in pain, but it does not mean that my life will be shortened."
Valer's breath was almost a sigh of relief.
"That's fine, but look here."
Talos watched the loop result over and over again - flashing and restarting everywhere, runes numbers are looping, and the charts flow in some holographic dances without rhythm.
"I see--"
A few minutes later, Talos said calmly:
"My gene is stored and collected... I don't know how to describe it, it's too active and seems to be still absorbing and processing genetic markers."
He subconsciously touched his neck.
Valer nodded and showed a smile.
“Maturing glands always respond at a certain level of activity, which is the basic level of processing genetic material and collecting some of the physiological characteristics of the warriors they serve.”
"I know the function of gene storage and gland collection."
The interrupted Valer raised a hand to appease the prophet.
"The following is my point of view. As we know, your genetic seed is more special than other Eighth Legion seeds. It makes your physiological instability, perhaps because you predict the future. However, these traits are rebelling. Before that, it is still trying to improve you, from human beings to a member of Astart. It is logical that this development will automatically stop after a certain level, but yours does not stagnate... But you can't improve anymore. You are already a member of Astart. Its overefficiency has now passed a critical moment. In many cases, the transplanted organs will wither and die due to excessive strengthening... The seed you are receiving is too powerful and it is squeezing you."
Talos thought for a while, then replied:
"Like I said, I was still gasping when it hurts, but it was not the end."
“Yes, but the problem is—”
Valier admitted this, a trace of thought flashed through his pale eyes.
“Either way, removing gene storage and glands is not a good choice, it doesn’t work because your organs are already—”
Talos waved his hand angrily and interrupted him, as if giving an order to open fire.
"Enough, I can read that hateful hologram."
Valer exhaled slowly, and the light shone his power armor into a shiny light.
"If you die and find a host that is suitable for your genetic seed organ, then this new host may bring the same curse as you - but it has adapted to such a function at that time, allowing the host to control it, your genetic seeds are not corrupt, but not for you, and if there are better hosts and real symbiotic relationships, they will become..."
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "What will happen?"
Talos's dark eyes flashed with contemplation, and various possibilities emerged deep.
Valer turned his head and stared at the chart.
"It will be very powerful, imagine that your prophetic talent will be without the false illusions that increase over time, without the headache that will make you kneel down, without the unconscious that lasts for weeks or months... Imagine that there are no broken memories, no other debilitations that torture you, and that will be a super warrior equivalent to the Primros."
"I think beautifully."
Talos's dark eyes were not focused, and he almost smiled.
"The rareness of such a person is comparable to that of the Primarch. Where do you go to find someone with such high adaptability? That's simply none of them in billions."
“There is one.”
Valer looked at Talos calmly.
"You know, you've seen that there was a thin layer of amniotic fluid membrane that was once only separated from you by a thin layer of amniotic fluid."
A cold light flashed in Talos's eyes, and he suddenly stood up, grabbed Valer's power armor's neck protection and dragged it in front of him.
"I said! Don't bother them! Don't force me to kill you, the skinder."
Valer just looked at Talos calmly and said softly:
"It's not me who went to find them, it's them who came to find me."
"What?"
"That child... was born with his mother's serious genetic defects, he had almost no bones, they hoped I could save him, I did have the ability, but I told them that the price of saving him was that he would go on an extraordinary path, and they agreed."
Talos was stunned for a moment, then slowly let go of his hand.
“So many years have passed—”
"In order to cure his genetic defects, I suppressed his growth, so he is still a one-year-old baby, but his defects have been basically removed. After a series of genetic debugging, I can quickly enter the rapid growth stage."
Talos took a step back and sat dejectedly on the operating bed.
"What's his name?"
"You don't have a name yet, you can give him one. I'll call him number zero for the time being."
The prophet raised his head and opened his mouth to say something, but in the end he didn't say it, just whispered softly: