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The morning air in the Avengers Tower training facility was cool and crisp. The vast space, usually empty, had a few dummies set up, along with a sparring mat where I stood barefoot.
Across from me, Natasha Romanoff stretched her arms, the casual smirk on her face betraying the brutal lesson she was about to deliver.
"Alright, genius. Let's see if you learned anything from yesterday."
I rolled my shoulders, mentally preparing myself.
"Same deal?" I asked.
She nodded. "Try to land a hit. Just one."
I took a deep breath and lunged.
Natasha barely moved. She sidestepped my attack, caught my wrist, and twisted.
Pain shot through my arm. I grunted, rolling with the movement to lessen the impact.
She let go before I could counter. "Better."
I exhaled, resetting my stance.
She raised an eyebrow. "But still slow."
I charged again, but this time, I didn't commit fully.
The moment she dodged, I changed direction—pivoting mid-step.
My fist was inches from her face—before she ducked and drove her elbow into my ribs.
I stumbled back, gasping.
Natasha smirked. "Nice try."
I wiped sweat off my forehead. I was improving, but I was still leagues behind her.
And that frustrated me.
I wasn't an idiot. I had intelligence beyond most people's comprehension. I could calculate angles, probabilities, even predict movements based on micro-expressions.
But fighting was different.
It wasn't just numbers. It was experience, instinct, and reflexes.
Natasha saw my frustration and folded her arms. "You're getting better. But you still think too much."
I sighed. "I can't turn my brain off, Nat."
She smirked. "Then train until instinct overrides thought."
I nodded, stepping back onto the mat.
"Again."
---
After an exhausting morning of getting my ass handed to me, I returned to the lab.
Tony was already there, tinkering with his gauntlet.
He looked up and smirked. "You look like you got run over."
"Natasha."
He chuckled. "Yeah, that tracks."
I collapsed into a chair and pulled up my project files.
Project Mimic was still incomplete.
The adaptive framework was coming along, but the learning speed wasn't fast enough.
I needed to think bigger.
I turned to Tony. "How fast can we develop a micro-neural link?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
I brought up my notes. "The problem with my system is reaction speed. It can learn fighting techniques, but it can't apply them in real time."
Tony hummed. "You want direct neural integration?"
"Not full integration. Just a feedback loop. If I can connect my nervous system to the suit, even in a limited capacity, I can sync with it instantly."
Tony stroked his chin. "That's a hell of a jump. Neural interfaces are tricky."
I nodded. "I know. But if we use your nano-fiber neural transmitters, we might be able to make a low-latency feedback system."
He grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."
Within minutes, we were deep in discussion, modifying the design schematics.
Project Mimic was about to take its first real step forward.
---
As we worked, I heard footsteps.
I turned to see Steve Rogers standing in the doorway.
"Tony. Arjun."
I straightened up. "Captain."
Steve walked in, his sharp eyes scanning the workspace. "What are you two working on?"
Tony smirked. "Junior here is trying to out-punch Natasha."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that."
I sighed. "Not my goal. I'm working on a combat-adaptive system. Just like I had decided yesterday. "
I pulled up the holographic display.
Steve studied it. "So… a suit that learns how to fight?"
I nodded. "Basically. It records, adapts, and improves in real time. Like I explained yesterday. "
Steve folded his arms. "And what happens when the wrong person gets their hands on it?"
I opened my mouth—but paused.
That was a fair point.
Steve must've noticed my hesitation. "It's not a bad idea, but you need to think about security. If Hydra or anyone more terrible got their hands on something like this…"
I frowned. Hydra.
My jaw clenched.
Steve's words struck deeper than he realized.
Because right now, Hydra probably had Wanda and Pietro.
And if they were already experimenting on enhanced individuals…
I took a deep breath. "I'll make sure it stays locked down, or keep it limited to certain people only."
Steve studied me for a second, then nodded. "Good."
Before he left, he added, "And if you ever want to spar, let me know."
Great. Now I had two Avengers willing to beat me up.
---
Later that night, I was alone in the lab, staring at the screen.
I kept replaying J.A.R.V.I.S.'s words in my head.
> "I have detected movement near a known Hydra facility in Sokovia."
Were Wanda and Pietro already being experimented on?
I needed more information.
I leaned forward. "J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up all available satellite footage of the Hydra facility."
The screen flickered, and grainy infrared images appeared.
A convoy of trucks. Guards. Scientists.
And then—
I froze.
A blurry image of a girl with auburn hair, her hands bound in metal cuffs.
Wanda.
My pulse spiked.
I clenched my fists, breathing heavily.
They had her.
I had to do something.
But not yet.
I wasn't strong enough.
Not yet.
I exhaled sharply. "J.A.R.V.I.S., keep tracking them. I need constant updates."
> "Understood, sir."
I leaned back in my chair.
Hydra had taken everything from me once.
I wouldn't let them do it again.
Project Mimic needed to be finished.
And once it was—
I was going to war.
---
[End]
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