Part 4: A Still Mind, a Loud Sky
Location: Sublevel Gym, Avengers Compound Time: Late Afternoon
Riven sat cross-legged in the middle of the gym floor. The room was quiet, save for the low hum of lights and the distant mechanical heartbeat of the compound.
No weights this time. No sparring dummies. No flying metal plates.
Just silence.
He kept his eyes shut, his palms open on his knees, his breathing slow and steady.
In.
Out.
Not to forget.
But to understand.
His mind reached into the fractured pieces—the rage, the grief, the helpless fury carved into his bones. He didn't push them down. He let them rise.
He remembered the way the guards laughed when that kid begged for mercy. The smell of scorched flesh. The cold steel that cut without pause.
He had hated it. All of it. And he still did.
But maybe that hate could be used. Not to burn, but to build.
His breath steadied. His heartbeat slowed.
And then, weightlessness.
The floor dropped away.
His eyes snapped open. The room swayed below him—no, he swayed. Hovering several feet above the gym floor.
Riven flinched. The sudden break in focus dropped him like a stone.
He hit the mat with a grunt, blinking up at the ceiling.
"What the hell was that...?"
A calm voice answered from nearby.
"That," said Vision, stepping out from a far alcove, "was you opening a door."
Riven sat up slowly. "You were watching?"
Vision nodded. "Monitoring. But not intruding. I found the approach fascinating."
"I wasn't trying to float."
"No," Vision said, tilting his head, "you were trying to listen. And in doing so, your mind began to reshape the world around you. Even unconsciously. That is what makes your power unique."
Riven stared at his hands.
Vision continued, "Telekinesis is not simply about moving things with thought. It is about intent. Belief. Emotional clarity. The stronger your understanding of why, the more powerful your ability to act."
He let that settle before adding, "What you did wasn't a loss of control. It was the beginning of it."
Riven looked up.
And for the first time, he didn't feel like something broken.
He felt like something becoming whole.