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Chapter 15: Lyndon's First Training Session

Lyndon stood in the center of the expansive training room in Stark Tower, a nervous knot in his stomach as he stared around at the various equipment. The room was vast, filled with high-tech gear, a series of targets, and padded areas for sparring. It was all too much to take in at once, but what was more overwhelming was the knowledge that today was the first time he would train alongside some of the most skilled people in the world. People who had powers, like Natasha and Tony, and others who had trained for years to master their bodies and minds, like Steve and Clint.

"Alright, Lyndon," Natasha said, giving him an encouraging smile as she stood off to the side. "Take a deep breath. We’re going to start slow. You’ve already shown you can control your shadows, but now it’s time to learn how to use them in a more practical way."

Lyndon swallowed, trying to steady his breath. He had been training on his own for so long, unsure of how to manage the power that had always felt like a burden. But now, with the Avengers around him, there was a small spark of hope—maybe, just maybe, he could learn to master it.

"Just remember," Natasha added, her voice calm, "you’re here to learn. Don’t worry about being perfect. We’re here for you."

Lyndon nodded, feeling the weight of her words. For once, he wasn’t alone in this—he had people who cared and believed in him.

Bruce Banner, who had been quietly observing from the sidelines, stepped forward. He was holding a tablet in one hand, tapping it with his fingers as he approached Lyndon.

"Hey, Lyndon," Bruce greeted him with a soft, reassuring voice. "I’ve read a bit about your power. The shadow manipulation, right?"

Lyndon hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. I’ve always had it, but I’ve never really been able to control it properly. It kind of just… happens. When I get emotional, especially."

Bruce gave a small smile. "I get it. Emotions can be a huge trigger for powers, especially ones that aren’t fully under control yet." He glanced around the room, as if searching for the right words. "Let’s start with understanding what’s happening on a deeper level. Your ability to manipulate shadows isn’t just about the darkness. It’s about energy—your energy and the energy of the space around you."

Lyndon frowned, trying to process the information. "Energy? What do you mean?"

Bruce nodded, his tone calm and methodical. "Think of shadows as a form of stored energy. Light is the absence of darkness, so when light is blocked, it creates shadows—think of them as a physical representation of an energy shift. You’re able to tap into that shift, pull it, and control it. But to master it, you need to understand how to focus your energy and direct it instead of letting it control you."

Lyndon closed his eyes, trying to imagine what Bruce was explaining. Shadows had always felt like an extension of his emotions—a reflection of his fear, his anger, his sadness. But he had never thought of them as something more than just an expression of his internal chaos.

"Okay," he said after a moment, his voice uncertain. "So… how do I start?"

Bruce smiled encouragingly. "Let’s see what you can do when you focus. Start small. Try to control a shadow, like you did the other day. But this time, think of it like you’re pushing the energy in the direction you want it to go."

Lyndon took a deep breath, focusing on the darkness around him. He extended his hand, just as he had done in the earlier training session. The shadows stirred, pulling from the corners of the room, gathering at his fingertips. But this time, instead of just letting the shadows swirl around him, he tried to focus on one small part of them—a single strand of darkness.

Slowly, with a bit of concentration, he felt the shadows respond, moving with a sense of purpose rather than chaotic flares. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than before.

Bruce’s eyes lit up with approval. "That’s it. You’re doing great. Keep practicing that focus, and the more you do it, the easier it’ll become."

Lyndon felt a surge of pride. It wasn’t a huge breakthrough, but it was something. For once, his power didn’t feel like a curse. It felt like something he could work with.

"Nice job," Bruce said, his voice full of encouragement. "Remember, it’s all about control. The more you focus, the better you’ll be able to direct the shadows where you want them to go."

Lyndon nodded, more confident than he had been in a long time. But just as he was about to take another step, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Alright, kid," Clint Barton called from the other side of the room, holding a bow in one hand. "That’s enough shadow play for now. Time for some real training."

Lyndon turned to find Clint smirking at him, his posture relaxed but clearly ready for action.

"Real training?" Lyndon echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Clint grinned. "I’m not just going to throw you into shadow manipulation all day long. You need more than that. You need to learn how to defend yourself. How to stand your ground when things get tough. So, today we’re going to start with the basics of combat. But don’t worry—I’ll go easy on you. At first."

Lyndon felt a flutter of nerves, but there was something about Clint’s casual demeanor that helped ease his anxiety. He was no stranger to fighting, even if it wasn’t with formal training. He had learned to protect himself from his mother and the bullies at school, but it was always out of necessity, not skill.

"Alright," he said, stepping forward with a deep breath. "What do I need to do?"

Clint tossed him a set of padded gloves. "First thing’s first, we’ll start with some basic hand-to-hand techniques. I know you’ve probably had your fair share of scrapes, but this is about using your body as an extension of your mind. It’s about control, just like with your powers. Focus, precision."

Lyndon put on the gloves, feeling the weight of them in his hands. He took a stance, mimicking Clint’s movements as best as he could. They started with basic punches and blocks, and although Lyndon wasn’t as fluid or precise as Clint, he quickly realized that there was a rhythm to it—something that clicked in his mind. His body moved with more purpose, and he started to feel more grounded.

Clint watched him closely, giving pointers when needed. "Not bad, kid. Keep your feet planted, use your hips for power, not just your arms. You’ve got potential."

Lyndon couldn’t help but smile, even though he was still out of breath from the drills. The feeling of someone—Clint, in this case—teaching him, guiding him, made everything feel a little less daunting. He wasn’t just another broken kid anymore. He was a part of something bigger.

After about an hour of practice, Clint finally called a halt. "Alright, we’ll pick this up tomorrow. But remember—combat isn’t just about fighting. It’s about being able to think on your feet, to anticipate. And that’s where the shadows can come in handy."

Lyndon nodded, still processing everything he’d learned. It was a lot, but it felt right. This wasn’t just about his shadows anymore. This was about him—about his strength, his control, and his place in the world.

"Thanks, Clint," Lyndon said, feeling more confident than he had in ages.

"Anytime," Clint replied, his smirk turning into a rare smile. "You’ve got this."

As the session ended, Lyndon found himself walking out of the training room with a new sense of purpose. The shadows inside him no longer felt like enemies; they felt like tools. Tools he could learn to control, tools he could use to protect himself—and maybe, just maybe, to help others too. He didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time, he felt like he had the strength to face it.