Part 3: First Harmony
Location: Sublevel Training Wing, Avengers Compound Time: Late Morning
Riven stood still in the training room, the steel walls around him marked with dents, scratches, and the faint scarring from pressure waves that didn't quite obey gravity.
His breathing was calm.
Not because he wasn't tired—but because he was finally beginning to understand.
His body was becoming something else. No. Not becoming.
Returning to what it had always been meant to be.
Limitless.
Every punch now had precision. Every breath, control. The once-dull senses he fought through after waking in this world now sang like sharpened blades. He was faster, stronger, more attuned to his surroundings. His mind processed angles, timing, force, with unnerving clarity.
But it was the connection that mattered now.
Riven extended his hand toward three weighted objects on the floor. One was a steel plate. One, a training baton. The third, a heavier stone disc.
He didn't force it. Didn't scream inside.
He breathed. He remembered. He focused.
The pain. The helplessness.
But not to drown in it.
To use it.
The steel plate lifted first. Smooth. Silent. Then the baton. Then the disc.
All three floated around him, slow, deliberate, steady.
He turned his body. Shifted his weight.
And the objects moved with him.
They weren't tools anymore. They were limbs.
He stepped forward and launched into a movement—a spinning kick. As his foot landed, the baton whipped out with precision. The disc followed, rotating midair like a second strike. The plate hovered, ready to block.
It was a dance.
And for the first time, his body and his mind were moving together.
The feed streamed silently to the upper floor.
Steve leaned forward, arms resting on the railing.
Tony simply muttered, "Now that's dangerous."
Inside the training chamber, Riven landed lightly, objects drifting back to the ground.
He closed his eyes.
And smiled.