The Catalyst

Reid paused at the doorway of the training hall, the data-slate cool against his palm, the syringe nestled securely in his pocket. He glanced back at the training mats, now empty and silent, and then towards the exit, the uncertain future beckoning. As he was about to step out, a figure materialized in the corridor, blocking his path.

It was Marina, the same one who had overseen the deal with the boards.

She was even more striking up close, a woman carved from sharp angles and confident lines. Her auburn hair, rigidly pulled back earlier, now seemed slightly loosened, framing a face that was both severe and undeniably alluring. Her black coat, impeccably tailored, emphasized the lean strength of her figure, hinting at a disciplined physicality beneath the veneer of corporate authority.

"Reid," she said, her voice smooth and low, like polished steel. "I see you've agreed to join him tonight." It wasn't a question.

He nodded, a knot tightening in his stomach. "Yes. I have."

"Good." She stepped aside, gesturing down the corridor. "Then you'll want to be prepared." Her gaze flickered meaningfully to his pocket, where the syringe rested. "Follow me."

Reid hesitated, a beat of genuine uncertainty. "Immediately?" he echoed, glancing at the syringe in his hand. It felt sudden. He'd expected time to process, time to strategize, maybe even a moment to back out.

Marina's lips curved into a faint, impatient smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Redwood efficiency, Reid. We seize opportunities. There's no point in wasting time. If you're going to join Mikal tonight, you'll need every advantage you can get. Follow me." With a curt nod, she turned and walked deeper into the corridor, assuming he would obey.

He did. Hesitation warred with the heady promise of power. He was already committed, wasn't he? He'd taken the syringe, accepted the offer. Turning back now would be weak. And weakness, he was rapidly learning, was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Marina led him through a maze of corridors, the training facility giving way to more sterile, utilitarian hallways. They stopped before a heavy door marked with a simple, understated biohazard symbol.

She swiped a card, the door hissed open, and she gestured him inside.

The room was small, clinical, a stark contrast to the rough-and-tumble training areas. White tiled walls gleamed under harsh fluorescent lights. A medical cot dominated the center, surrounded by gleaming steel instruments laid out on a tray.

Standing beside the cot was a figure in pristine white scrubs, face hidden behind a sterile mask and cap. Only the nurse's eyes, dark and efficient, were visible above the mask, focused entirely on the instruments laid out before them.

"Jora," Marina addressed the masked figure, her tone crisp and efficient. "Recruit Eulison is ready for the procedure."

Jora turned, her gaze settling on Reid with a detached professionalism that was somehow more unsettling than open curiosity. She didn't speak, simply nodded once, her eyes lingering on the syringe in Reid's hand for a fleeting moment before gesturing towards the medical bed with a gloved hand.

Reid felt a knot of apprehension tighten in his stomach. This was it. No turning back now. He walked towards the bed, a strange mixture of dread and anticipation coiling within him. He placed the data-slate and syringe on a small metallic table beside the bed, his movements stiff and deliberate.

Jora gestured again, and Reid hesitantly lay down on the cold, sterile surface. Before he could fully process what was happening, she moved with swift, practiced efficiency. Leather straps materialized seemingly from nowhere, and in moments, his wrists and ankles were secured to the bed.

"Straps?" Reid questioned. He looked at Marina, a silent question in his eyes.

Marina's crimson lips curved again, this time into a thin, almost cruel smile. "Precaution, Recruit. Essence Stimulants can have unpredictable side effects. Best to be secured." Her gaze lingered on him, a detached curiosity in their jade depths. "Don't worry. It won't last long."

She approached the bed, her gaze now intense, almost predatory, fixed on Reid. "This Catalyst is a significant investment, Recruit Eulison. Redwood expects a commensurate return." Her voice was low, a silken threat woven into the promise of opportunity. "Do not disappoint us."

Then, with a swift, practiced movement, Nurse Jora swabbed Reid's forearm with antiseptic.

He barely had time to brace himself before he felt the cold prick of the needle against his arm. Then, the searing heat. It wasn't a sharp pain, not like a burn or a cut. It was a molten, liquid fire, pouring directly into his veins, spreading rapidly through his body, consuming him from the inside out.

He screamed.

"Aaaaargh!"

Outside the small medical bay, Marina stood beside Jora, both watching through the reinforced glass window as Reid convulsed on the table.

"Mikal has high hopes for this one," Nurse Jora murmured, their gaze fixed on the struggling figure on the bed. "It's been years since I've seen him push so hard for a Recruit's Catalyst authorization, especially one so untested."

Marina nodded, her eyes narrowed, a flicker of sharp anticipation in their depths. "Instructions came directly from her office. All readings, every deviation, straight to the top."

Jora tilted their masked head slightly, surprise flickering behind their dark eyes. "The 'young lady' herself? This is more than just standard recruitment then."

"There's something brewing in the streets," Marina stated, wariness creeping into her voice. "It's not just Redwood, other organizations are expanding as well, like they're anticipating a storm. Talent is paramount. And," she paused, her gaze hardening, "Mikal has insights. Don't underestimate his judgment, Jora. Many mocked the young lady's faith in him. No one is laughing now."

"You're making me curious now," Jora admitted, adjusting the readouts on their data pad, brow furrowed in professional intrigue.

They watched in silence for a moment longer, the only sound Reid's escalating screams, muffled by the reinforced glass. Then a soft, glow stared building around Reid's convulsing form.

"Physical enhancements should be manifesting soon," Nurse Jora noted, their voice professional. "Muscle density increase, bone structure reinforcement, heightened senses; Standard Essence Awakening markers."

But the glow intensified, growing brighter, stronger, almost blinding in it's intensity.

"That's not standard," Jora breathed, her voice laced with shock. Marina's composure finally fractured, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief.

The light exploded. Not with a sound, but with a silent, overwhelming burst of pure light. The medical bay windows, reinforced though they were, vibrated violently. The luminescence inside became so intensely bright, so utterly blinding, that Marina and the nurse were forced to shield their eyes, turning away from the impossible spectacle.

Inside the medical bay, Reid felt like he was being consumed by a supernova. The pain was beyond comprehension, beyond endurance, yet, impossibly, it continued to escalate. He felt himself lifted, weightless, as if gravity itself had released him.

Everything around him began to distort, to melt, the sterile metal of the room liquifying and flowing like molten wax.

Then, a voice echoed within the inferno, cutting through the agony, a familiar presence amidst the overwhelming chaos.

[WARNING: Host Awakening exceeding parameters. Chaos Core destabilizing. Risk of Host Annihilation.]

[Initiating Emergency Resequencing Protocol. Chaos Core Resealing. Limiting Awakened Potential to Host Capacity. Soul Force reserves being capped.]

The voice was a lifeline. Abruptly, violently, the molten fire receded, replaced by a chilling cold that swept through him.

He fell.

The light was gone, replaced by the dim emergency lighting flickering erratically in the aftermath. Silence descended, broken only by the crackling of cooling materials and Reid's ragged, shuddering breaths.

Outside, Marina and the nurse, blinking away spots from their vision, stared at the window, their faces etched with disbelief and a dawning horror. The medical bay, once pristine and sterile, was now a scene of devastation.

"I… I can't get any coherent readings," Jora murmured, their voice still tinged with awe. "What was that? It was unlike anything any Catalyst reaction I've ever recorded. Rank One Essence Awakening shouldn't do that."

Marina, her expression unreadable, moved towards the door, her black coat swaying around her. "Open it."

Jora hesitated, glancing at the melted slag coating the walls near the doorframe, now cooling with ominous cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. "Marina, residual heat is extreme. Structural integrity is compromised. And the energy readings before the system cut out were off scale."

Marina's gaze, sharp as shattered glass, flickered to Jora, a silent command that brooked no argument. Jora's gloved fingers danced across the damaged panel, overriding safety protocols.

With a tortured groan of protesting metal, the door hissed open, releasing a wave of superheated air that forced both women to stagger back, the air itself shimmering and distorting before their eyes.

Through the shimmering heat haze, a figure stumbled out of the ruined room. Reid. He swayed, limbs moving with a jerky, unsteady gait, his body radiating heat like a furnace. He looked different. Taller, somehow, his frame subtly broader, his features sharper, more defined. But it was the heat radiating off him, waves of shimmering distortion rising from his skin, that was truly alarming.

Before either woman could speak, Reid's knees buckled. He collapsed, hitting the slag-coated floor with a muffled thud, the melted residue glistening like obsidian beneath him. Marina and Jora instinctively reached out, then recoiled as if burned, the heat radiating from his skin pushing them back with unexpected force. He lay still, unmoving, a smoking ruin amidst the ruin of the lab.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with shock and the lingering scent of burnt metal and ozone.