Chapter 12 – Training Day
The training room at Mount Justice echoed with the sound of fists hitting padded walls. The place smelled like sweat, determination, and a few broken egos.
Gwen stood in the middle of the mat, mask on, stretching her arms as Black Canary circled her like a hawk.
"Alright, Ghost Spider," Canary said, voice calm but sharp. "You've got quick reflexes, but let's see if you can think while moving."
"Thinking's kind of my thing," Gwen replied, rolling her shoulders.
"Good," Canary said. "Then you won't mind if I hit you."
She moved first — a blur of precision. Gwen ducked the first punch, twisted away from a kick, and caught Canary's wrist mid-strike. For a second, it looked like she had the upper hand.
Then Canary shifted weight, flipped Gwen clean over her shoulder, and slammed her to the mat.
"Lesson one," Canary said, offering a hand. "Everyone hits the ground eventually."
Gwen groaned, taking her hand but using it to pull Canary forward — sweeping her leg out and knocking the veteran onto her back.
"Lesson two," Gwen shot back, standing up. "Always hit back."
The corners of Canary's mouth lifted slightly. "Not bad."
They reset. The next exchange was faster — Canary testing her limits, Gwen adapting on instinct. Webline feints, low sweeps, shoulder rolls — the fight turned into a rhythm.
> "Combat pattern efficiency rising," Weaver murmured through her earpiece. "Shall I adjust for prediction?"
"Not this time," Gwen whispered back. "I want to feel it."
Canary noticed the shift in Gwen's stance. Her movements became smoother, sharper — like she was borrowing from a dozen different fighting styles at once.
"Where'd you learn that?" Canary asked between strikes.
"Long story," Gwen said, blocking a roundhouse. "Short version — bad dreams and good reflexes."
Canary smirked. "Cute. Let's make it worse."
She lunged again, this time feinting high and sweeping low. Gwen flipped backward, landed on her hands, and kicked off the ground to launch a spinning heel strike. Canary dodged by inches, grabbing Gwen's leg mid-air and throwing her again — but Gwen used the momentum to shoot a web to the ceiling, swing back, and land behind her.
Robin's voice came from the observation deck. "You seeing this? She's mixing acrobatics and martial arts like it's second nature."
Kid Flash grinned. "Yeah, and Canary's still reading her like a book."
Artemis folded her arms. "Not for long."
Below, Gwen caught Canary's wrist mid-swing, but instead of countering, she stepped in close, twisting just enough to redirect the force and push her back. It wasn't brute strength — it was balance, precision.
Canary blinked. "That's… new."
Gwen tilted her head. "I improvise."
They stopped for breath. Sweat glistened on both their faces.
"You've got raw instinct," Canary said finally. "But you rely on it too much. If someone figures out your rhythm, you'll lose before you even know it."
Gwen nodded slowly. "So what do I do?"
"Learn to fight smart, not just fast," Canary said. "Know when to lead, and when to let someone else take the hit."
"Team lesson?" Gwen asked.
"Life lesson," Canary replied.
> "Emotional temperature elevated," Weaver noted quietly. "Recommendation: disengage before further vulnerability develops."
Gwen sighed. "You ever stop talking?"
> "Statistically, silence decreases performance by three percent."
"Yeah, okay, keep talking then."
Canary raised an eyebrow. "Talking to your AI again?"
"Yeah," Gwen said. "He's kind of my annoying roommate."
"Good," Canary said, smiling faintly. "You'll need someone to keep you grounded."
From the shadows near the exit, Batman watched the exchange. His face didn't move, but his eyes lingered on Gwen — the way her instincts clicked, the way her body seemed to move before her brain did.
When she looked his way, he was already gone.
Canary clapped her hands once. "That's enough for today. Same time tomorrow. And Ghost Spider…"
"Yeah?"
"Next time, don't hold back. I want to see what you're really capable of."
Gwen nodded, watching her leave. Then she turned to the dark window — her reflection faint in the glass.
> "Observation: you hesitated three times during the match," Weaver said.
"I noticed," Gwen replied quietly. "She reminded me of someone."
> "Someone from the other world?"
"Maybe." Gwen pulled her hood back up. "Or maybe just someone who actually gives a damn."
> "Unusual emotional parameter detected."
"Relax, Weaver," she said, smirking under the mask. "I'm still me."
She walked out, the echo of Canary's words following her down the hall:
Fight smart. Trust the team.
But as the lights dimmed behind her, Gwen couldn't shake the feeling that trust might be harder than any fight she'd face.