Chapter 18: Training Montage and Team Dynamics
The Foundry became Ben's second home over three weeks—bruises layering on bruises as Oliver tested his limits with military precision and zero mercy.
"Again," Oliver commanded, adjusting his stance as Ben picked himself up off the mats for the dozenth time that session. "You're telegraphing the absorption. If I can see it coming, so can anyone else we might face."
Ben wiped blood from his split lip and settled back into fighting position. Training with Oliver was like sparring with a computer programmed to exploit every weakness and hesitation. The man fought with the cold efficiency of someone who'd learned that second place in combat meant death.
"Your technique incorporates elements from at least six different martial arts traditions," Oliver observed as they circled each other. "Karate, boxing, jiu-jitsu, some kind of knife work that looks military, and at least two styles I don't recognize. Where did you train?"
"Chicago dojos, YouTube videos, and desperation" wouldn't be an acceptable answer.
"Different instructors over the years," Ben said, deflecting a feint toward his ribs while his Prescience showed him Oliver's real target—a throat strike that would arrive in two seconds. "I learn quickly, and I don't like being helpless."
Oliver's combination flowed like water, each technique setting up the next in chains that would have overwhelmed most opponents. But Ben's enhanced foresight let him see the patterns, his Kinetic absorption turning Oliver's strikes into stored energy that he could release as enhanced speed or strength.
The sparring session became a chess match of abilities—Ben tracking Oliver's moves through blue afterimages while trying not to make his prescience too obvious, Oliver probing for weaknesses while respecting Ben's need to maintain some mystery about his capabilities.
"You fight like someone who expects betrayal," Oliver noted during a water break. "Always watching exits, always calculating costs. That's not sport fighting—that's survival conditioning."
"The Glades teach you that safety is temporary."
"The Glades didn't teach you to read micro-expressions or position yourself to counter assassination techniques." Oliver's tone carried the weight of someone who recognized similar paranoia in another person. "What are you running from?"
"The weight of knowing how this story ends. The guilt of not being able to save everyone. The fear that my presence here is making everything worse instead of better."
"Same thing everyone runs from," Ben said finally. "The past. Bad decisions. People I couldn't protect."
Oliver nodded with the understanding of someone who carried similar ghosts. They returned to sparring without further conversation, letting the rhythm of combat substitute for words that would reveal too much.
Between rounds, Diggle appeared with coffee and the kind of steady presence that had made him invaluable to Oliver's mission. He watched Ben fight with the analytical attention of someone who'd learned to read threats and allies with equal precision.
"You know what I notice about you?" Diggle said as Ben toweled off sweat and absorbed kinetic energy. "You fight like someone who's been in real combat, but you also fight like someone who's afraid of hurting people."
"Is that a problem?"
"Depends on the situation. Sometimes mercy gets innocent people killed. Sometimes brutality makes you no better than the people you're fighting." Diggle settled onto a bench, studying Ben with uncomfortable intensity. "The trick is knowing which response fits which situation."
"Sounds like the voice of experience."
"Three tours in Afghanistan. Seen what happens when good people make bad choices under pressure, and what happens when bad people make any choices at all." Diggle's expression softened slightly. "Oliver's carrying a lot of weight from his time away. We all are. Sometimes it helps to have someone around who understands that coming back from hell doesn't mean you're done fighting devils."
The conversation drifted from combat tactics to broader philosophy, and Ben found himself opening up in ways that surprised him. Diggle had the rare gift of asking questions that invited honesty without demanding it, creating space for partial truths that felt like genuine connection.
"You served?" Diggle asked.
"Not military. But I've seen what violence costs, and I've seen what happens when people can't protect themselves." Ben thought about the children he'd failed to save in his previous life, the weight of responsibility that had followed him across impossible distances. "Sometimes the only choice is between bad and worse."
"And you're trying to make sure other people don't have to face those choices."
"Something like that."
Diggle nodded with approval that felt like acceptance into some kind of brotherhood Ben hadn't realized he wanted to join. The older man understood violence and its consequences in ways that most civilians never would, but he'd also retained enough humanity to mourn the necessity of it.
Their conversation was interrupted by a whirlwind of blonde hair and technological enthusiasm as Felicity burst through the Foundry's entrance carrying enough electronic equipment to outfit a small laboratory.
"I come bearing gifts!" she announced, setting down cases full of comm gear and monitoring equipment. "Also questions about the physics of kinetic energy absorption, because I've been running calculations and some of this stuff shouldn't be possible according to conventional understanding of thermodynamics."
POV: Felicity
Felicity spread her equipment across the Foundry's main table, her mind already racing through the technical challenges and fascinating possibilities that Ben's abilities represented. She'd been thinking about the energy absorption patterns she'd observed ever since the gym incident, and her preliminary analysis had raised more questions than answers.
"Okay, so basic kinetic energy absorption I can theoretically understand," she said, pulling up holographic displays on her tablet. "But you're not just absorbing energy—you're storing it, converting it to different forms, and releasing it with precision that suggests conscious control at the quantum level."
Ben looked like he was trying to follow her rapid-fire explanations while Oliver and Diggle exchanged glances that suggested they'd given up on understanding her technical discussions weeks ago.
"The energy signature when you release stored power shows electromagnetic fluctuations that should require massive computational processing to coordinate," Felicity continued, clearly warming to her subject. "Either you're running some kind of biological quantum computer, or you're tapping into forces that we don't have names for yet."
"Or," Ben said carefully, "I'm just really good at punching people and my body adapted to make me better at it."
"That's not how evolution works. That's not how physics works. That's barely how comic books work." Felicity pulled up energy readings from the gym incident, pointing to patterns that made Ben's eyes widen with recognition. "This is like looking at someone who learned to fly by thinking really hard about it."
The technical discussion continued for an hour, with Felicity designing monitoring equipment to track Ben's energy levels while he tried to explain abilities he didn't fully understand himself. Her enthusiasm was infectious, cutting through his paranoia about revealing too much. She was genuinely excited by the puzzle he represented, fascinated by the science rather than threatened by the implications.
"I've built you a heads-up display that will show your charge levels," she said, handing him a device that looked like advanced contact lenses. "Plus communication gear that's hardened against electromagnetic interference, because something tells me you're going to be dealing with a lot of weird energy effects."
"This is incredible work," Ben said, genuinely impressed by technology that seemed decades ahead of what should exist in 2012. "Where did you learn to build this kind of stuff?"
"MIT, Queen Consolidated's R&D budget, and way too much coffee." Felicity beamed with pride. "Plus I may have borrowed some concepts from classified government projects that I definitely didn't hack into during my more rebellious phase."
Oliver cleared his throat. "Should I be concerned about having two technical geniuses comparing notes on how to violate federal law?"
"Only if you're not comfortable with having the most advanced support team in the history of vigilantism," Felicity replied cheerfully.
Diggle shook his head with mock resignation. "I feel like I'm going to need earplugs if this is going to be a regular thing."
"Hey!" Ben and Felicity protested simultaneously, then looked at each other with mutual recognition of kindred spirits.
The moment crystallized something that had been building over weeks of training and conversation. Team Arrow wasn't just a tactical alliance anymore—it was becoming something that looked suspiciously like a family. Dysfunctional, secretive, armed to the teeth, but family nonetheless.
POV: Ben
Later that evening, Ben sat in his apartment updating his coded journal while processing the strange mix of guilt and belonging that came from becoming part of something larger than himself.
"Three weeks of training with Team Arrow has revealed capabilities I didn't know I possessed and relationships I didn't know I needed. Oliver pushes me to be better while respecting my boundaries. Diggle provides emotional support disguised as tactical advice. Felicity makes me feel like my abilities are fascinating rather than terrifying. But I'm still lying to all of them about the most important things—my transmigration, my full range of powers, my knowledge of what's coming."
Ben carefully demonstrated his Kinetic abilities during training while holding back his Prescience and Negation entirely. The team now accepted energy absorption and redirection as his complete power set, unaware that he could see the future and erase events from reality. It was a sustainable deception for now, but building genuine friendships on foundations of necessary lies felt like constructing a house on quicksand.
"How long can I maintain partial truths with people who are becoming genuinely important to me? Oliver notices inconsistencies because pattern recognition kept him alive for five years. Diggle reads people for a living. Felicity analyzes everything that doesn't make sense until it does. Eventually, one of them is going to ask a question I can't answer without revealing secrets that could destroy everything I'm trying to protect."
His phone buzzed with a text from Oliver: "Good work today. Training again Thursday—Diggle wants to show you some military techniques, and Felicity has questions about energy resonance that I don't understand but apparently need to know about."
Another from Felicity: "Thanks for being patient with my technical babbling. It's nice to have someone to discuss impossible physics with who doesn't look at me like I'm speaking ancient Sumerian."
And one from Diggle: "Coffee tomorrow morning if you're free. No training agenda, just conversation. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who understands carrying weight."
Each message represented trust being extended, friendship being offered, belonging being made available to someone who'd never expected to find it in this impossible situation. The warmth of acceptance warred with the cold knowledge that he was building these relationships on lies that could explode at any moment.
"I came here to save the city while staying invisible. Instead, I'm becoming part of its story, part of its community, part of something that matters more than any individual mission. The question is whether I can keep these people safe when the Undertaking finally comes to light, or whether my attempts to protect them will just ensure we all fall together."
Ben closed his journal and tried to sleep, but his dreams were filled with blue afterimages showing futures where his secrets destroyed the people he was beginning to love, and red energy erasing the moments where he might have chosen differently.
Tomorrow he'd train with Team Arrow again, building skills and relationships that would be tested by crises none of them could yet imagine. Tonight, he lay awake wondering if belonging was worth the price of the lies required to maintain it.
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