Eon's heightened awareness made note of his new surroundings before he did. As he opened his eyes he found himself inside of a capsule. The glass screen in front of him was opaque which made it impossible for him to see through.

White linen formed his makeshift bedding, matching the white shirt and pants he wore.

Why am I dressed like a mental patient? 

Pushing against the glass screen failed to open the lid of the capsule and without looking he sensed there were no buttons inside to release him.

"Another cage? I guess I blacked out again," Eon said as he formed a fist. He was a psionic now and didn't plan on being held for much longer.

As he struck the glass, cracks formed and he felt latent power flow through his veins.

Oh, I can definitely get used to this.

However, the glass screen repaired itself in an instant, fusing until all the damage was removed.

I guess that's not surprising.

Eon punched the glass once more, using all of the strength he could bear in the enclosed space.

The crack doubled its previous radius, splintering an entire foot before it receded back in on itself.

This time Eon was ready, striking with his left hand but to his surprise a second set of cracks formed, overlaying the previous ones as they continued to heal.

Huh, what sort of material is this?

Eon rubbed his hand over the second set of cracks before they healed, frowning when they felt smooth as butter. His knuckles also held no traces of "glass", confusing him even more. How strong did he have to be to break out of this new cage?

Regardless he was a psionic now, and he had planned to assign his remaining Energy Points once he recovered. It appeared now was the perfect time.

"Status."

Name: Eon

Level: 16

Race: Human

Class: N/A

Energy type

- Void Lightning (F)

Traits

- Vampirism (Limited)

Artifact

- [Blood of Sylvia Stormlight] (Unawakened)

Attributes

- Power: 27

- Spirit: 25

- Perception: 27

- Strength: 20

- Constitution: 22

- Dexterity: 26

Energy Points: 6

Credits: 0

Eon was dumbstruck. Not in a million years would he have expected such a change to his status. A complete overhaul that added five new tabs, splitting his status six into sections. But most importantly, there was a new section for a Class.

Am I dreaming?

He was sure psionics didn't have the ability to have Classes, and he doubted he was a special case.

Am I seeing this right? Even my Energy type has changed.

There was no secret where the void essence came from. His affinity mixed with the void walker, fusing until the creation became an element unto itself. The energy had even evolved, reaching the F-grade before he had a chance to use it.

One thing he did understand however were the Traits. Unique quirks manifested from a psionic's energy. With a Scorch Trait, psionic fire from a pyromancer would have its power magnified tenfold, able to burn holes through space-time.

Vampirism on the other hand was a Trait that he had never heard of, though he had an inkling as to how he had acquired it.

Vampirism (Limited): Siphon energy to fuel your own power.

Thankfully it had nothing to do with blood, merely a quirk gained through his connection with void energy. But just in case, Eon checked his fangs, freezing when he noticed they were slightly larger.

Must be a byproduct of the reconstruction. I don't have any of my old scars either. But what is this about an artifact? Had they implanted me with this?

It didn't make sense. Artifacts were the lifeblood of psionics, raising the most trivial being into a warlord to be reckoned with.

Maybe I am blessed after all, Eon thought, believing a display had malfunctioned inside of the vault, releasing an artifact. It was the only way he could explain his bond with the item.

Blood of Sylvia Stormlight? Eon tried to recall the artifacts in Vorn's vault. His recollection wasn't perfect considering there were over two dozen and he hadn't paid most of them any mind, focusing on setting up his traps for the void walker.

But as he recalled the Grim Sarcophagus, he pictured the undulating ball of turbulent plasma. What would happen when he awakened the bloodline, and whose blood was it anyhow?

There were millions of famous psionics. Even a few thousand who made Typhon their home—A'steri Moonblade being one of them. But the name Stormlight had never crossed his path. In either case he had to thank Vorn. The eccentric collector had bestowed him a gift without even knowing it. For it to sit near the centerfold piece of the vault; an artifact that amassed a fleet of pirates, he could tell it wasn't run of the mill.

Finally Eon laid his eyes on his new set of attributes.

Nice! I couldn't have asked for better results. What is that, 7 to Strength, 9 to Constitution, and a full 13 to Dexterity?

The quick maths checked out. He now had a body that neared the bounds of humanity since gaining 13 points to his physical attributes. And that was without using his last 6 Energy Points. His energy attributes on the other hand respectively gained 1 point to Power, 2 to Spirit, and 4 to Perception. The low numbers didn't disheartened him however. It made sense that his body's reconstruction mainly focused on his physical attributes.

Eon was about to place his last Energy Points into Strength in order to break out of the capsule, but then he paused. There was no guarantee a mere 6 points would allow him to escape.

The hesitation helped Eon rethink his point allocation, but he decided to hold off for now. There was more he needed to learn about psionic abilities, and he couldn't do that trapped the way he was.

However, he could still set up a contingency plan for the future and he did exactly that, grouping the attributes into primary, secondary, and tertiary focuses.

Dexterity and Spirit would go together, as he planned to merge his affinity with his sword skills. Power and Perception would be his secondary focuses, whereas Strength and Constitution tied for third place.

Satisfied with his status, Eon refocused on the "glass screen" before him. Maybe if he tried two hands he could break it?

It's worth a shot.

Eon flexed his arms and smashed his fists into the screen. The splinter tripled, and he hurried his next strike, yet still the odd material didn't register the attacks on the same surface. Soon it was as if the damage never existed.

Strangely, Eon found himself in a relaxed state. He was a prisoner, yet he was content with biding his time. Closing his eyes, he drifted back to his youth, watching A'steri conjure blades out of telekinetic energy.

Her morning practice had cost him many sleepless nights, angrily dragging himself out of bed to nearly freeze to death in Estera's winter's. But he'd give everything to return and stop himself from foolishly inviting a fleet of raiders to his homeworld.

Time passed as Eon meditated, attempting to form a blade from psionic energy. The endeavor was far more complicated than he imagined. Leaving him sweating bullets, staining his only pair of clothes.

No wonder she always practiced in the cold. It must have been a habit.

As Eon strained his mind he felt a presence near the capsule. It had nothing to do with his senses, but rather his hearing. What sounded like heels clattered against a marble floor. Someone had entered the room where he was located.

[I'm sensing psionic fluctuations from this container. It appears this subject has woken up.]

"How? We haven't left hyperspace yet. What's the status?" Eon distantly heard as if the voice came from a speaker.

[High brain activity, likely a sign of stress. The subject's vitals…]

"What, did something go wrong with the procedure?"

[No, the subject's vitals are in great shape. However, the implants seem to have malfunctioned, removing the sleep parameter.]

"What? Damn Taro, giving me useless goods. I paid an arm and a leg for those implants y'know. Nothing should be malfunctioning. What subject is it anyway?"

[V-STRML1]

"The netrunner?"

[No, it's the one we almost died saving—barely escaping the pods of the Order.]

"D3-V1, now is not the time for your lip."

[I don't have lips.]

"Run the diagnostics," the voice sighed.

[I have, all systems are green.]

"Then what's the issue?"

[I'm a battle droid, not an engineer.]

"You're going to be scrap metal if you keep this up."

[You wouldn't dare.]

"D3-V1!"

[Recalibrating Subject V-STRML1: Enhancing limiters.]

Eon's throat dried as code flashed before his eyes. His senses flipped as reality warped and everything went dark. Yet still the code continued scrolling over his eyes. He rubbed at them but to no avail, the attempt did absolutely nothing. He knew what the culprit was and he would kill himself if he tried to pry it out.

Hell, if he could pry it out. The droid had just enhanced the limiters placed on the neural implants they embedded in him. What he could and couldn't do would be left to their mercy. Fortunately, they couldn't control his actions directly unless they wiped his mind. However, doing so would negate his psionic abilities, turning him into a living breathing android that operated on software rather than the mental processes of an organic brain.

But the question remained, and he would avoid it no longer.

Could he trust anything he experienced now, including his new senses? What about the changes to his status screen?

[Calibration complete. Systems online.]

Finally Eon could see again.

"So, how goes it?"

[Green. Functionality is at 100%. That seems to have done the trick.]

"Good, toss him in with the others. No point in putting him back to sleep."

Air rushed into the capsule as the door lifted, revealing a droid covered in an exoskeleton of Orion steel.

[Greetings human.] Her—its blue digitized-eyes transformed into smiley faces. [I assure you I'm female, my pronouns are She/Her. Please follow me for the introduction.]

Sensing Eon's mood change, the droid's eyes turned red as a threat, widening their grin. [Right this way, please.]

Reluctantly Eon stepped out of the capsule and collapsed on his hands and knees, his legs wobbly after disuse.

[Oh, you're into that stuff, huh? Well, if you want to crawl, I don't mind. There's  no judging here.]

"Is that right?" Eon pushed himself to his feet, looking around the room. Like the interior of the capsule the room was entirely white.

[It's the man upstairs.] D3-V1 sighed after following Eon's gaze. [He's sooo boring. You don't know how many times I tried to make him change the paint. I think arc blue would be nice. Possibly sprinkle in a bit of dark grey, what do you think?]

"Is this your attempt at breaking the ice, pretending you're not holding me against my will?" Eon said, registering the colors as her own. Did she want to take over the ship? Maybe he could exploit that.

[Indeed it is. I'm D3-V1, what's your name?]

Eon scoffed. Well at least she's honest. "Ghost," he eventually said. If they truly didn't know who he was, he wouldn't give them any answers.

[Nice to meet you, Ghost. Now let's go meet your comrades.]

Eon followed behind D3-V1 looking for an improvised weapon. Literally anything would do, but the room was as bare as it was white. The hallway fared no better with curving walls that extended into an oval ceiling. The only spec of color he had seen was the battle droid before him.

The combat specialists were renown bounty hunters, used as assassins and bodyguards for non psionic-raiders. Getting past her wouldn't be an easy feat. Nevertheless Eon sized up D3-V1, estimating her wingspan, looking for hidden compartments on her body. 

Her frame was slightly taller than his own, reaching upwards of six and a half feet. Her figure was surprisingly curvy, an unnecessary requirement, done purely for cosmetic purposes. But as Eon looked at her long legs, he started to second guess himself.

[You're a little quiet back there, are you checking out my ass?]

The question caught Eon off guard. "Yes," he smirked. "Yes I was."

[Good, I worked hard for this. But don't stare too much, you can't handle me.]

We'll see about that.

The hallway split into a forked path when D3-V1 turned to the right and Eon realized where she was taking him. His stomach grumbled as he read the neon white sign on the entryway.

Cafeteria

[After you.] She waved on.

Eon entered the cafeteria expecting to see the three members of the Iron Fist gang. Instead he found three aliens. One of them, a human hybrid with parts resembling an insect, sat alone at a table with a comical amount of food sitting in front of him.

"Whatss are you lookingss at?" the bug-eyed man said.

His green antenna twitched in annoyance but Eon couldn't stop staring at the ten boxes of pizza he had opened. The man was unnaturally skinny, and it didn't look like he had much space to store all of it.

"I's said, whatss are youss lookingss at, human? Thiss iss my foodss. I'll eat your eyess if you don't lookss away."

[That's Krieg. As you can see he's very territorial but don't worry. He can't harm a fly… in here.]

Despite what D3-V1 said, Eon's awareness sensed danger. Before he could react, the grey faced insect man leapt forward with a hand that morphed into a metallic blade.

There was an art behind the man's movement. Like a praying mantis he jumped, bounding over a set of tables to appear in front of Eon in less than a second. Then he did as he had promised, stabbing into Eon's eye, plucking it like one would a fruit from a tree.

Eon screamed as his eye was sliced open, feeling the cold bite of metallic fingers reach into his eye socket.

[Oh dear!] Came D3-V1's voice. [That's not supposed to happen.]

Red lights flashed in the cafeteria as the blaring alarm matched Eon's cries. He managed to look up at the alien hybrid, seeing him lick his fingers after eating Eon's eye. He had a prickly tongue with razor sharp mandibles like that of a Predator. Then when he bent back down towards Eon a command froze him in place.

[Stop!]

Krieg smiled over Eon who clutched at his left eye.

[Reboot Subject V-STRML1.]

Once more reality distorted and lines of code flashed before Eon's visions, including the eye he had just lost. 

How had his sight returned so quickly? he thought as everything went dark.