[GENERAL POV]
The air was tense. Not because of danger, but because of anticipation.
Anakin and Gwen stood facing each other, surrounded by familiar figures. Steve had his arms crossed and a serious expression, though there was a glint of interest in his eyes. Sam leaned on one leg, unable to hide that he was a little enthusiastic about this fight between a galactic defender and a girl with spider powers who could lift a car with her hands like it was nothing.
Natasha, as always, was quieter, watching every small movement.
Wanda was observing curiously as well. It was unusual for her to see other young people in the base. In fact, it was the first time she had shared space with someone her age. Vision was somewhat similar to her, but not entirely. He had only existed for a few years since his creation, and although he sometimes seemed human, other times he clearly wasn't. He was different.
So having two people her age there felt strange to her. Anakin, that extraterrestrial with a stern face and the bearing of a spiritual warrior, and now Gwen, with her chaotic energy and rebellious attitude.
At that moment, Vision appeared floating gently down from the upper floor, descending in a straight line as if the air itself obeyed him.
"This will be an interesting match," he commented in his calm voice as he positioned himself beside Wanda.
"Yes, especially because of their styles," Steve said without moving. "They have opposite approaches. Almost a philosophical fight."
"Do you think Gwen can hold her own?" Sam asked quietly, without mockery, just curiosity.
Vision tilted his head slightly. "According to the data we have, Gwen is capable of lifting approximately ten tons. Her agility, striking power, and flexibility are far above the human average even above the standard of trained superhumans. Including you, Captain."
Steve wasn't offended. He simply nodded, accepting the information for what it was: a fact.
"In raw strength, yes. But that's not everything in a fight," Steve said.
"Correct," Vision continued in his usual calm, precise tone. "Anakin's base strength is an unknown variable. Considering he was trained from the age of nine by what appears to be an elite military order from his galaxy, it is reasonable to assume his physical capability is above the human average. His biology seems similar to ours, at least superficially. Perhaps slightly stronger, perhaps not. I cannot confirm that yet. But if I had to speculate, his baseline strength might be comparable to a human at peak physical condition. Like you, Captain."
He paused briefly, as if processing invisible data.
"Therefore, in pure brute strength, he is likely below Gwen. At least without the intervention of his Force."
"How little do we actually know about that?" Sam asked.
"Quite little, unfortunately," Vision admitted. "In the only visual records we possess, we have seen him apply what we interpret as telekinesis. In one instance, he exerted a downward pressure equivalent to ten tons on the Lizard with a single gesture of his hand. In another, he projected three civilians out of danger, less aggressively, but with remarkable precision."
"I doubt that's all it can do," Wanda said.
"It would be unusual if that were its only application. It is likely he has additional abilities, but we do not know whether he can, for example, enhance his physical strikes. It would be logical to assume so, but we lack concrete evidence."
"Though his jumps are something else," Sam added. "Against the Lizard he jumped more than ten meters vertically like it was the most normal thing in the world."
"Exactly," Vision nodded. "What we can confirm is that he has used the Force to propel himself, slow his falls, and control his surroundings with extremely high precision. But we do not know his limit."
Natasha watched in silence until she finally spoke.
"That's what makes Secretary Ross the most paranoid. Not knowing how much more he can do or how much he's choosing not to do."
Everyone's gaze shifted back toward the center of the field.
And just then, Gwen bent her knees.
It was like releasing a compressed spring. A burst of speed. Her body cut through the air like a projectile wrapped in raw energy, and her first strike was direct: an upward punch, fast, clearly aimed at testing the Padawan's chin.
Anakin didn't move until the very last second.
With a calmness that almost looked like arrogance, he tilted his head slightly and let the punch pass just centimeters from his face. Gwen's fist sliced through the air with a sharp hum. Had it connected, the impact would have been brutal.
But it hit nothing.
Gwen landed, rolled, and turned to look at him.
"What…?"
Nobody dodged that. Not the Lizard. Not any criminal she had fought. At best they managed to block it. But dodging it that easily was something else entirely.
Anakin was already turning his body with measured elegance.
His feet slid across the ground with precision, shifting position without losing balance. Arms low, open, defensive stance. His eyes weren't tense, they were focused.
Gwen didn't stop. She rushed him again with a combination of strikes, each one faster than the last. Left hook. Spinning elbow. Downward kick.
Anakin avoided them all.
Not with exaggerated acrobatics, but with economy of movement. He shifted his torso, his feet, his shoulders, as if every motion were part of a dance only he knew.
In the middle of those evasions, Anakin noticed something else.
Gwen was stronger than she looked. Every time her foot struck the ground, it left small fractures on the surface. Her punches broke the pressure of the air itself. She was fierce, fast, and uncomfortably unpredictable.
'Many Padawans would fall against her,' he thought.
But he was not many.
During one of her attacks, Gwen launched a low spinning kick.
Anakin jumped it with perfect precision, briefly placing one hand on Gwen's shoulder as leverage. He pushed himself upward, spun through the air, and landed behind her like a shadow.
Gwen spun around instantly, surprised.
"How the hell do you do that?" Gwen snapped, breathing fast.
Anakin didn't answer.
He simply raised a hand. Open. Without aggression.
Gwen charged again. This time with a forward rush, her fist drawn back, ready to strike with all her strength.
Anakin stepped forward too.
But instead of hitting her, he deflected her punch with his palm and turned his body along with hers, redirecting the force as if it were water. He used her own momentum against her. He let her pass by his side and pushed her toward the ground with his knee, adding a light touch of telekinetic pressure.
Gwen rolled and sprang back to her feet immediately.
"Shit!" she growled, but not in anger. More like someone challenged, brow furrowed and fire in her eyes.
Anakin couldn't help but smile inwardly. He was impressed.
Gwen's speed and reflexes were not normal. She wasn't even using the Force, yet she had those reflexes and that speed. The same with her strength.
And most dangerous of all: she was learning in real time.
Every attack was different from the previous one. More refined and measured. As if Gwen absorbed each mistake and turned it into momentum. She had no formal training, but she had instinct, adaptability, and something that couldn't be taught: pure will.
That combination was entertaining.
"Are you enjoying this, space monk?" Gwen shot back when she noticed the slight smile on Anakin's face, something that annoyed her more than she would admit.
"Perhaps…" Anakin replied without taking his eyes off her. "Constant improvement is rare to see."
"Was that a compliment?" Gwen said, raising an eyebrow with a faint smile.
"I won't repeat it."
Gwen didn't wait any longer. She lunged again.
But this time she changed the pattern completely. She feinted a high attack, then spun on her pivot leg at the last second, firing a direct strike toward the side of Anakin's torso with all her strength.
And she almost succeeded.
For a moment, Anakin's precognition seemed to fail. Since he had been able to dodge all her attacks so easily, he had lowered his guard slightly. He hadn't expected her to accelerate to her absolute maximum in a single feint.
Anakin's eyes widened just a little. Too late to dodge, but not too late to react.
He turned his body with precision and raised his arm to shield himself. Gwen's fist struck directly into his left side.
A dull crack echoed through the air.
Anakin didn't move. He didn't fly backward or stumble. He held his ground.
Wanda narrowed her eyes. "What? Did he block it?"
"Not exactly," Vision murmured, with genuine fascination. "He created a barrier. A shield. He used the Force as a direct cushion at the point of impact."
"Had he not done that," Steve added, "he would've been sent flying. Or had his shoulder dislocated."
Gwen stepped back, surprised.
"That was a serious punch…" she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Anakin exhaled lightly. He had felt the strike. Not as damage, but as power. She really could destroy things if she connected properly.
Then Anakin went on the offensive.
He moved with precision, pressing Gwen with a short sequence of maneuvers that combined Jedi martial technique with subtle pushes of the Force. Gwen defended herself with agility, bouncing away, spinning, trying to use her surroundings. But Anakin's pressure kept increasing.
Until, at the exact right moment, Anakin caught her wrist before she could react. With a smooth turn of his body, channeling the Force through his arms, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.
And slammed her into the ground.
The impact was sharp and heavy. Gwen's back hit the surface of the training field with a dull boom that made Sam let out an instinctive "oof."
Gwen held back a cry. It hurt, but she endured. Her enhanced physiology protected her. Her spider-like resilience allowed her to withstand blows that would leave a normal human breathless or unconscious.
Even so, it still hurt.
She shifted to rise, jaw clenched.
And then Anakin raised his hand. He extended his open palm, lowering it slowly, unhurried, until his fingers hovered just centimeters from Gwen's neck, barely touching the skin.
"You'd be dead if I had my lightsaber," Anakin said.
Gwen froze. Sweat ran down her forehead. Her breathing was still heavy. Her heart pounded in her chest. But she didn't answer immediately.
She had lost.
She had lost, and not by a little. By a lot. Her strength, her speed, her instinct… none of it had been enough. She couldn't help but frown in frustration.
Anakin lowered his hand. He stopped pointing at her neck and instead extended the same open palm toward her.
"Good fight," he said.
Gwen looked up, surprised. She hadn't expected those words from the boy with the stern expression and arrogant attitude. Not after he had defeated her so clearly.
There was no sarcasm in his tone. No mockery. He meant it.
The other Avengers watching were surprised as well.
That boy who had arrived from the sky with a disdainful expression and the air of a millennia-old soldier who seemed to see Earth as a primitive planet was praising someone.
Gwen hesitated for a second. Just one second. Then she took his hand. Anakin pulled her to her feet in a single motion.
"Next time go a little easier… I'm a girl. My back hurts," Gwen complained while stretching her back.
"If I hadn't used the Force to block your punch," Anakin replied with complete naturalness, "I'd have a dislocated shoulder."
Gwen glanced at him sideways. "So you're saying we're even?"
"Somewhat," Anakin nodded with a shrug.
"Pff. Fine. I'll keep that in mind for the next sparring match," Gwen said.
...
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