“For the love of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, can you please hand me one tiny crumb of context here?” Theo called, crossing his arms.
Across the room, the voice sighed, the sound theatrical and dripping with disdain. His angular face was framed by a cascade of white hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail. He peered over a holographic console that floated mid-air, its symbols flickering like fireflies.
“Well, Jesus doesn’t have much to do with it, I can tell you that much,” the older man said dryly, not looking up. “You’ll just have to wait until I get something more conclusive, then, maybe, I'll share.”
Theo’s temper started to flare now. The consequences of his words started to fade into obscurity as he chased those elusive answers.
“Listen, you weird, cryptic bastard,” Theo shot back, stepping off the platform with an aggressive determination. “I didn’t ask to be dragged into your techno house of mirrors. Shit, I still don’t even believe this is actually happening at this point. So why don’t we skip the snarky commentary and get to the part where you spill the beans?”
The stranger’s fingers froze mid-gesture, and he finally turned his piercing blue eyes to Theo. For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the faint crackle of static from the machinery around them.
“For an anomaly whose existence is a rounding error, you have an ungodly amount of testicular fortitude.” he said, his voice edged with contempt. “Do you know what you are, Theo?”
Theo shrugged irreverently, “A devastatingly handsome, devil-may-care rogue?”
“Wrong,” he snapped, stepping closer. “You are an outlier. A singularity of chaos. You don’t fit. Not here, not in the System, not even in the predictable, mundane soup of mediocrity you call a species. And do you know what I do with outliers?”
Theo paused before raising a finger as if he solved the puzzle. “Tea and biscuits?”
The old man’s hand shot out, pointing a small cylindrical device at Theo. A burst of blue light enveloped him, and Theo’s muscles locked as if he’d been hit by a freeze ray. His smirk faltered.
“Okay, not tea and biscuits,” Theo muttered through clenched teeth as he began to struggle.
The stranger sighed again, running a hand down his face. “Oh relax, Theo. It’s just a calming agent. Makes you a bit more agreeable. You’ll feel disoriented for a bit, but it’s preferable to you breaking something important—like my patience. My name is Erasmus, by the way.”
The device clicked, and Theo’s limbs loosened. He stumbled back, rubbing his arms. “Calming agent? Feels more like a passive-aggressive taser.”
Erasmus ignored the comment, already back at his console. He muttered to himself, his words a rapid, indecipherable stream of frustration.
“Catalyx lineage... dormant… system denial...”
Theo wandered closer, his curiosity overriding his better judgment. “Can I ask what you're mumbling about?”
“You, obviously,” Erasmus said flatly. “Your absurd interaction with the System. It should be impossible, yet here you are. One Catalyx descendant over generations. It’s a non sequitur. Do you even understand what this means?”
He paced, his tone sharpening. “The System is not a fan of variables like you. It’s designed to correct them—violently. Every anomaly it encounters, it neutralizes, assimilates, or destroys. And now, thanks to your lineage, It can’t touch you directly, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe.”
Theo peered down at his body dramatically. “Catalyx? So what, I’ve got secret cat DNA? Is that why I land on my feet so well? Wait—oh my god—do I have nine lives? Because that would explain so much.”
Erasmus shot him a withering glare. “Catalyx is a superior race, you irreverent gnat. My race. Masters of bio-synthetic evolution, custodians of balance, yada yada yada. We’re not exactly on speaking terms with the Exo-Genesis, or System, as you might know it. But there are certain… agreements.”
Theo’s brow furrowed as his head felt somewhat cloudy. “So, what? I’m part alien? That’s why I didn’t get the whole tutorial package like everyone else?”
“Part alien?” Erasmus repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You make it sound like you’re a discount superhero. The reality is far less glamorous. You are not only going to have to learn to live in this world without any of the benefits but you’re also going to have the eyes of the Exo-Genesis itself on you. And me, by association, so thanks for that.”
"Alright, what exactly is this Exo-Genesis thing?" Theo asked, rubbing his temples as if that might stop his brain from melting.
Erasmus let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Exo-Genesis—EG, the System, whatever you want to call it—is an entity far beyond your basic comprehension.”
Theo squinted. "That was unnecessary."
Erasmus ignored him. “It spreads across the universe, claiming uncontested space, breaking down everything it touches, and rewriting reality to fit its design. Matter? Reconfigured. Ecosystems? Rebuilt. And every living thing caught within? Converted into fuel.”
Theo frowned. “Fuel?”
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Erasmus smirked, but there was no humour in it. “Batteries, Theo. The System forces those within it to grow stronger, but not for themselves—only to feed it. The stronger they become, the more efficient they are at empowering the machine that binds them.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Of course, they don’t realize it. They think they’re evolving. Fools.”
For a moment, he seemed almost lost in thought. When he continued, his tone was quieter, less laced with disdain—more matter-of-fact.
“The ‘EG’ is considered one of the top factions in the universe, despite being just a single entity. That alone should tell you something. And yet, for all its power, it stifles true growth. No innovation. No technological advancement. You don’t build, you become—what it wants, when it wants. You evolve in the direction it dictates, or you fall… and your strength is handed to someone who won’t.”
Theo opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes caught on a nearby device on Erasmus’ desk—a smooth, oblong artifact embedded in a pedestal. Its surface shimmered with faint, organic patterns, each pulse of light synced to a hum that resonated in his chest. It seemed alive, a heartbeat echoing in the still air, beckoning his embrace.
“Woah, that’s amazing. What’s this?” Theo said, reaching for the device.
Erasmus’s head snapped up, his face a mask of alarm. “Don’t touch anything!” he barked, lunging forward. “That stabilizer is older than your entire species, and its calibration took me decades. If you—”
Too late. Theo’s fingers brushed the surface, and the artifact’s glow intensified, drowning the room in a harsh, searing light.
“Why? Why would you do that?!” Erasmus barked, abandoning his console to rush to the artifact. The room’s ambient hum had risen to an alarming pitch, and warning symbols flickered across every screen.
Theo held up his hands defensively and sighed. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I thought it looked cool. I didn’t see a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign.”
Erasmus growled, his fingers flying over the pedestal’s interface. “I literally told you three times not to touch anything here! That was stabilizing the power grid! Now it’s overloading—which, for the record, is bad.”
Theo raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Why would you leave such an important thing so easily accessible then?!”
“I had to assemble this base as quickly as possible to protect my identity on this planet, you cretin. I didn’t expect the living embodiment of calamity to start a sitcom here.” Erasmus retorted bitterly.
The lights flickered, and a deep rumble shook the floor. Erasmus slammed his fist against the pedestal, and the artifact’s glow dimmed, but the damage wasn’t fully undone.
“We’re going dark, but we won’t die. Well, you won’t, I was safe.” Erasmus muttered. He sprinted to a wall panel, ripping it open to reveal a tangled mess of glowing cables. With a sharp pull, he severed one of the connections.
The hum died instantly, plunging the room into an eerie silence.
Theo’s voice broke the silence. “Nice. That’s a win, right?”
Erasmus turned slowly, his icy blue eyes narrowing. “Not yet.”
A sharp chime rang out, followed by a disembodied voice that made Theo’s blood run cold. “System Alert: Unauthorized activity detected. Compliance protocols initiated.”
“Well, that sounds ominous,” Theo said, trying to mask his unease with humour.
Erasmus cursed under his breath, his hands tightening into fists. “This is your fault. I want you to know that.”
Theo gestured wildly, “Helpful!”
The voice continued, cold and mechanical. “Terms for continued cohabitation: Subject Theo Kane may remain under Catalyx protection. However, all technological resources must adhere to current world-level limitations. Violations will result in conflict.”
Erasmus’s jaw tightened, his expression dark. “How does this apply to already assembled technology?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.
A brief pause. Then, the voice responded with sterile efficiency.
"Assessing current technology… Assessment complete.
- Support, administrative, and habitation technology is permissible.
- Weaponry and combat enhancements not currently integrated into Catalyx inhabitants will be seized.
- All non-essential materials and resources, excluding food and water, will be removed.
- Existing technology may not be removed from this structure.
- Active automation beyond manual operation is prohibited.
- Any attempt to reverse-engineer restricted technology will result in conflict.
- Do you accept these terms? If terms are not acceptable, inhabitants are allowed one earth hour to remove themselves from the system's domain."
Erasmus exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his side. “No. I can’t leave… Okay. Condition change: Active automation permitted for non-combat drones. Combat drones may be created, provided they use materials that align with world-level designation.”
A longer pause.
Then, the voice replied. “Condition suggestion: Rejected. Proposed revision: Existing, non-combat drones are acceptable under System oversight, the System reserves the right to terminate any drone if deemed to provide an unfair advantage.
All drones built within world limitations are unrestricted.
Do you accept these terms?”
Erasmus narrowed his eyes. “I see… Fine. We accept your terms.”
Theo blinked. “Um. What did any of that mean in English?”
“It means,” Erasmus said, his voice low and dangerous, “that if we don’t play nice with the system, it will attempt to terminate us directly.”
Theo couldn’t help but be astounded by Erasmus’ choice of words when it came to what seemed to be a god getting rid of them. How powerful does he think he is?
Erasmus continued, his tone clipped and calculated. “Most of what I have here is still operational—so long as we don’t move it. I expected it to strip the building entirely, so that’s a win. Losing my resources is... inconvenient, but it beats an all-out war. The rest? You don’t need to worry about.”
Theo, now fully feeling the effects of the calming agent, let out a slow breath. “Okay. So, what do we do?”
Erasmus turned to him, his gaze piercing. “You do what you’re told. No more touching things. No more jokes. And for the love of all that’s logical, no more being… you.”
Theo bowed with exaggerated grace. “Deal. From now on, I shall be as a fly on the wall.”
Erasmus groaned, dragging a hand down his face like a man staring into the abyss of his own misfortune. “The universe truly despises me… and honestly? I’m starting to take it personally.”