The sonic pulse of a warp drive echoed in the sky, sending chills down Eon's spine. In fear of raiders, he turned towards the sound, ready to drop everything at a moment's notice. Fortunately, the cruisers continued off into the distance, flying away from the shipyard shrouded in darkness.

Looking back towards the Keyflame Docks, Eon scanned the large array of warehouses that were once an alien stronghold. A cartel owned the shipyard now, storing goods for off-world brokers who dabbled in unscrupulous markets. Unfortunately, they had chosen the wrong guards for their cybersecurity.

[Activating: [Shroud]…]

[Commencing: [Data Breach]…]

[23 Hostiles detected! Bypassing encryption…]

[Infiltration complete!]

"Like taking candy from a baby!" Eon said, scouring the docks' database for shipment and financial records.

He stood on top of a cell tower nearly ten miles away, boosting the strength of his AI, Revenant. Its signal routed through multiple networks, allowing him to deceive the cartel's cyber dogs in the case of discovery. Unlike him, they could interface with a network wirelessly by using the cybernetic implants embedded in their brains.

Their neural connections granted a higher finesse in cyberspace. A tempting trade for most, but Eon saw it as a double-edged sword, and avoided the augmentations due to the dangers they imposed. Besides blood clots and brain cancer, the implants allowed one's brain to be hijacked, and he didn't particularly relish viruses running around in his head. In such an occasion, his free will would be lost. Forcing him to obey orders like a slave, lest someone trigger the implants to explode.

As Eon continued to comb through the docks' database, he rechecked the signals of the cell towers he routed through. One of the towers' signal was fluctuating, forcing him to close out the connection and reroute to boost his signal.

The technique was standard practice, used by many hackers for infiltration and data decryption. However, he was no ordinary hacker, having gained the title of Netrunner due to the level of tech he mastered. And with it, he could move through data streams like a ghost.

"Ah! There they are," Eon smiled. "I'll just take my cut plus a decent tip for a job well done… and there, all set."

Forty thousand credits disappeared in an instant, transferred to a secured bank account without leaving a single trace. "Welp, my job is done for the day."

Eon disconnected his holo-watch from the cell tower. The device sported a large screen and fit more like a vambrace rather than a watch. It was one of the relics from his forgotten past, which was the main reason he had never bought an updated model—preferring to enhance it with his own upgrades.

Eon, who wasn't quite sure if that was his actual name or the clothing brand he was found in, was raised in an orphanage in the outer ruins of the world capital, Estera. The city was still scarred by the remnants of war, making it the perfect proving ground for gangs to grow and fester. It was for this reason the alien who raised him, tutored her orphans in the many facets of the underworld.

"Speak of the devil."

Eon's holo-watch vibrated, alerting him to a call from none other than A'steri. With a sigh, he answered. "Hello?"

"You're late," she said.

"Am I?" Eon asked.

"Well, unless you plan to show up after Bun's birthday, I would say so. You're like a big brother to her, Eon."

Eon winced at the rebuke, picturing Bun's disappointment. Through the call, he could sense A'steri's bright, electrifying eyes boring into him. There was nothing he could keep from her, he learned that as a child.

"Traffic. You know how the city is at night," he said, refusing to submit to her clairvoyance. Whether her uncanny ability was a skill from her unari heritage, or a mother's intuition, he would never know.

"And here I thought you had forgotten what day it is."

"No, of course not. How could I ever forget?" Eon said, checking his calendar. "Damned watch," he muttered.

"She's counting on you, Eon."

"I'm on my way as we speak. I got a surprise for her as well."

"What did you do?" A'steri asked.

"Nothing. Stop assuming the worst," Eon said.

"I'll stop when you learn to keep your hands from getting greedy. There's always a trail, Eon. No one can escape consequences."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I love you too," Eon said. "But I have to go. I'll see you soon."

They said their goodbyes when Eon made his way down from the cell tower and unholstered his ionic revolver. The plasma pistol was the other relic from his forgotten past. Aptly named Acorn, the revolver came with a charge setting that fused eight plasma rounds into a slug the size of an enlarged acorn.

A'steri had returned the Acorn and holo-watch to Eon six years ago on his eighteenth birthday, forever placing him in her debt. The selfless act gave Eon a new outlook on life. Rather than leaving the orphanage behind, he had stayed in the war torn city, helping provide her with resources to run the orphanage.

As Eon reached the base of the cell tower, he crouched in the shadows and tapped on his holo-watch, activating his motorcycle's scanner. The camera feed appeared on his watch, surveying the surrounding area for anything out of the ordinary. Finally, the scan finished after a minute and Eon wasted no time, driving away from the docks into the city.

With a swipe on his watch, he sent out an encrypted message; detailing the list of items he had discovered. Retrieval was not part of his job description. If someone knew your location, you could expect a knife in the back. He learned that the hard way.

Two hours later, Eon arrived at a bike shop. A fat mechanic named Saul sat outside smoking a cigar. The mechanic was one of his teachers growing up, a local fixer who rigged and modded vehicles for the gangs in the lower end of Estera.

Among many other specialists throughout the city, A'steri would contract their knowledge for the orphans under her care. Eon and Saul had bonded over their love for bikes. They loved nothing more than the night breeze flowing through their curls, a luxury Saul could no longer afford at his age.

"Midnight black paint with an etch of silver highlights on the sides. Throw in another hover boost while you're at it, I've been meaning to upgrade," Eon smiled, tossing his keys over at Saul.

Saul took one long look at Eon, then back to the red Trailblazer CT-X3 he had just parked. A tired cast marred Saul's face when he finally spoke. "No," he said, shaking his head. "In fact, get out of here." He tossed the keys back to Eon, who caught them with deft hands.

"What's the problem?" Eon asked, his mood a little sour, having expected Saul to be impressed.

"I don't know who you teamed up with this past year. But we both know you can't afford that bike. And I can't afford the associations that come along with whatever you've done to attain it. Mariss is pregnant, we don't need your problems showing up here."

"What problems Saul?" Eon frowned. "You think I'd drive straight here? You taught me better than that. Two vehicles, remember?"

"Apparently I failed," Saul muttered. "The first lesson was to not draw attention to yourself. The whole city will be pointing fingers at you, and you just put me on their radar by driving here."

"The decoy—"

"It's not about the bike Eon, it's you," Saul said. "You're rising too fast. Did you think I wouldn't notice? No one is invisible. The streets talk, even if it's only bullshit assumptions. Your names are out there, and it's only a matter of time before your actions catch up with you."

Eon stole a glimpse at his holo-watch, then looked back at Saul. "What did you hear?"

"It's not about what I've heard Eon," Saul sighed. "It's about what I've been able to piece together. This wealth—you're flaunting it as if people don't have eyes. We know your background. A freelancer like you can't afford the level of tech you're packing unless you've made some serious plays."

Saul pointedly looked at Eon's holo-watch then pointed to an automatic turret stationed on the roof of his shop.

A new ornament, Eon noticed, positive that the swiveling weapon packed at least two spark emitters.

Almost magical, the advanced technology weaponized Arc Crystals, emitting a spark of the crystal's latent energy. A feat once impossible without the mental prowess of a Psionic. When harnessed in large quantities, the volatile energy of Arc Crystals could produce enough power to open wormholes, granting access to faster-than-light travel.

Downsides accompanied the energy, however. In a process known as Baptism, large doses of arc radiation reforged an individual down to their molecular level. Killing all but the rare twenty percent that managed to survive. Reborn as Psionics, the survivors gained the ability to generate and control Arc Energy at will.

Lacking suicidal tendencies, Eon forgoed the dance with death. Perhaps if he were a betting man he would have attempted fate, but instead he chose the next best thing in an emitter, applying a kinetic spark to his revolver.

As Eon scrutinized the advanced weaponry, the turret continued to rotate, scanning for threats when it slid across his path. At that moment he grew tense, reaching towards his revolver. But the turret passed over him as if he wasn't there.

"As you can see, that beauty is top of the line. I modded her myself with the best components money can buy. Some of which you can't find around these parts. She sees in multiple different wavelengths and tracks electrical signals, thermal fluctuations and even psionic energy. Yet somehow she doesn't register you…" Saul pointed out.

"You're like a ghost—uh uh," Saul interrupted as Eon tried to speak. "Don't tell me how you're doing it, I don't want to know. The point is you're moving hot, and I haven't even mentioned the renovations applied to A'steri's orphanage."

"A'steri—"

"Has a soft spot for you," Saul finished. "She has a soft spot for all of you. But her kids are grunts, pawns that don't draw unnecessary attention to her operation. Who else came up under her that rocks a spark emitter?" He said, looking at Eon's revolver.

"How'd you—" Eon started to say.

"It's in the way you carry yourself. An assuredness seen in enforcers that have lived outside the law longer than you've been alive," Saul shook his head, then wiped sweat from his brow. "Look, Eon, you're a bright kid. You have a good heart, but you're not cut out for the major leagues. You have no training in their world, and no power, no backing to stop your paths from colliding."

For the second time today, Eon had been chastised. He thought he was moving appropriately, concealing his actions, yet Saul had seen through him instantly. Had he truly gotten rusty after acquiring the Revenant, or was it a fluke?

No, better to take it seriously, Eon thought, right as a second warp drive echoed in the night sky. Flying towards them at great speeds.

[Warning: High energy fluctuations detected!]