《The Catalyst》A Lack of Answers

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“You are the new Catalyst.”

“What?” I responded through the haze that clouded my mind.

Whoever that ambiguous voice belonged to didn’t repeat themselves. I tried to remember how I got here, but nothing came about from my efforts. Where even was here?

It was warm here, but did feel a little cramped. There was a sudden pulse that I felt come from all around me, making me realize I was surrounded by water. I tired to breath, only to find my mouth already full of the water. Was I going to drown? I started to panic and tired to open my eyes, yet they would not respond. I kicked my foot in frustration, making contact with the spongy material of my confines.

I heard a muffled noise at the contact. Seriously, what was going on here? I tried kicking again, and got another muffled noise. I vaguely heard what sounded like a woman speaking, but I did not recognize the language.

A thought crept into my mind, but the idea was absurd. There was an easy way to check if it was the case though. I moved my hand down along my chest to my stomach. Low and behold, I found the fleshy tendril that was… my… umbilical cord. I was an unborn baby.

At least my inability to breathe normally was excused now. But that was not what I was thinking about. Instead I became even more panicked and started flailing my miniscule arms and legs. There was another constricting pulse in response, which started to become rhythmic. Oh great, I am about to be born too.

I stopped flailing as I realized my situation. I felt the hurried movements of my soon-to-be mother as she rushed about. My sense of direction shifted, which I guess meant that she was lying down now. There was the tiniest sliver of light that I picked up through my closed eyelids, which I unconsciously turned towards. I regretted that choice, as the amniotic sac around me popped at that moment. The fluid supporting me flooded out in a rush, pushing some more into me. Now it was very uncomfortable in here. I felt every pulse, which I guess was her contractions, which were quite painful. The next few moments were a mind numbing blur of pain. I felt like every bone would break.

The relief of finally being out, the pain I had just endured, the release of the fluid in my lungs, mouth, and nose, the chill that instantly assailed my skin, and the confusion I still had about my situation came out as a wail. I cried because I had to, since nothing was making sense.

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I honestly did not remember the next few minutes, but things happened and I found myself wrapped up in an incredibly course to the touch blanket. It smelled terrible and I was convinced that it had never been washed.

Once the shock and pain had subsided a bit, I took stock of my situation. For the first time, my eyes were functioning as I wanted them to, and I looked at my mother. The phrase 'a face only a mother could love' instantly came to mind as I looked at her. She had an oversized nose with a massive underbite. Beady eyes peered out from under a thick brow. Her hair had clearly never met a hairbrush, as it was matted and clumped in various places with debris even tangled into it.

I tore my gaze away from my mother and surveyed the remainder of my surroundings as best I could. My stomach dropped as I looked around, because there was nothing that I was familiar with. We were in a cave, with a handful of other women and children nearby. This was not a hospital. There was no technology. If I had to describe it, it was like a scene from documentaries about primitive humans. I was apparently a caveman. Wait, was I still a man? A quick focus of my attention said yes, though I could not visually confirm.

I felt a headache setting in as my rapid series of experiences hit my brain one after another. Shutting my eyes, I wanted to wake up from this bizarre nightmare scenario, but something told me that this was not going to happen.

Then I saw something in the darkness of my closed eyes, to what I could only describe as the bottom right. I tried focusing on it, and after a second something like a screen appeared in my field of vision. I opened my eyes in surprise, yet the screen remained visible. I tried to shout, but that only came out as a cry, which my mother interpreted far differently than I intended. While I was slightly disgusted with myself, in realizing I was a baby there was no point in resisting. So as I ate, I analyzed the screen.

It was fairly blank, with numerous boxes that lacked information of any sort to identify what their purpose was. The first one that drew my attention and had information was one titled Race. It displayed the following:

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Human (Primitive)

(Catalyst)

Catalyst. There that word was again. What did it mean to be a race called a Catalyst? Unfortuantely, it seemed I would have to figure that out myself as there has no other information being given by the screen. The human classification was interesting too. I guess I was right about my caveman insight. Did it mean that there were other types of humans? Maybe something like Modern or Civilized? This too lacked additional information.

The next area of the screen that had something to it was a section labeled Statistics. There were six of these statistics beneath with numbers corresponding to each. In displayed order, they were Strength, Agility, Endurance, Fortitude, Mental, and Magic. I saw 1's for strength, agility, and magic. Endurance was at 2 while fortitude was at 4. My mental statistic was at a whopping 77 though. All six had a maximum value of 100 listed next to the entry. Interestingly, there were other numbers here as well. All six had (500) next to the other, lower numbers. I guess the Catalyst race has game-breaking numbers if those apply.

The next section to draw my attention was the Class section. Here there were a number of blank fields yet again, with only a single one filled in. I was getting frustrated at seeing the word Catalyst and not having an explanation. Here there was a level indicator for each class, but the one for Catalyst read ERROR. That was interesting, as it was the first indication that Catalyst was definitely greater than whatever this system was if the system could not define it.

The last thing that caught my attention was the Skills section. It was laid out similarly to the Class section in that it had a place for whatever skills were and a level value attached to them. Here I had four skills listed, though they were seemingly bound by the same constraints as all of my Catalyst data. They were called Editor, Creator, Reincarnate, and Unlimited. All had the same ERROR note in their level like my Catalyst class. Out of curiosity, I selected my Editor skill.

“What would you like to edit?”

I choked at the sudden voice echoing in my head. My mother put me aside and scrambled over to do something else, but I was not really focused on that. The voice was vaguely feminine sounding, but spoke in a fairly flat monotone.

Me, I thought desperately.

“You have selected yourself. What edit would you like to make?”

Okay, so I could control my Editor skill with thought.

Appearance.

“Your appearance is tied to your racial features. Would you like to edit your race?”

Sure.

“What race would you like to apply?”

Something akin to a computer program’s dropdown menu appeared in my vision. I opened the menu, only to find human within. Hey, at least it might remove the primitive tag.

“Note: your race can only be modified within your given lineage once per incarnation. Failure to utilize this within three days of birthing will result in forfeiture of this option.”

I honestly had no idea what to make of that notice.

“Notice: Catalyst lacks a name. Please insert a name for future use.”

A name? Well, at least I’ll get to control something. I doubt my mother would give me something of substance besides Ugh or Gur or something like that. What was the thing I always wanted to call myself?

Why can I not remember my own name? Forget naming myself for a moment, who am I? I wanted to scream, but the next notice interrupted me.

“Notice: Information attempting to be accessed has been restricted. Continued attempts to access restricted information will result in forfeiture of Catalyst status.”

So my past was locked out, leaving only my future ahead to guide me. That’s fine, but still leaves the name thing. What is a good name to use then? Starring at the blank field where my name will go, I kept feeling drawn to the mysterious use of catalyst. Everything about this status screen seemed to revolve around it. Though I felt unoriginal by utilizing the word as a basis, I thought of the name that I would be known by.

“Confirming. You have taken the name Lyst. Continue?”

Yes.

I am Lyst. And this was where my new life began.

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