"Again."
Arun groaned, peeling himself off the training mat for what felt like the thousandth time. Two weeks had passed since his encounter with the defense system, and Black Widow's training regime made those turrets feel like a tutorial level.
"Your mind processes the moves perfectly," Natasha observed, circling him. "But your body..."
"Isn't exactly Next Avenger material?" Arun wheezed, assuming the fighting stance she'd taught him. The borrowed SHIELD training gear felt heavy on his frame, still soft from years of inactivity.
"You're thinking too much like a gamer. Waiting for button prompts that won't come." She threw a combination of strikes – slower than her full speed, but still blindingly fast to him. "Real combat isn't turn-based."
Arun blocked the first two hits using the patterns he'd memorized, but the third caught him in the ribs. Not full force – Natasha was training him, not trying to break him – but enough to remind him this wasn't a sparring mini-game.
"Actually," he grunted, "games helped me survive those turrets. If I could just—"
"Show me."
Arun blinked. "What?"
"Show me how you see combat. Don't fight like I'm teaching you. Fight like you're playing one of your games."
It was the first time she'd shown interest in his perspective. Arun took a deep breath, letting his mind shift into gaming mode. The training room transformed in his vision – hit boxes appeared around Natasha's striking zones, potential attack patterns highlighted like skill trees.
"In a game, every boss has attack animations," he explained, watching her movements. "Telegraph patterns, damage zones, cooldown timers..." He dodged her next strike purely on instinct, seeing the wind-up frames like he would on a screen.
"Like that," she nodded. "But faster. No loading screens in real life."
They continued, but something had changed. Instead of trying to mirror Natasha's precise techniques, Arun began treating combat like an elaborate quick-time event. His reactions weren't textbook, but they were increasingly effective.
"Your greatest weakness is your greatest strength," Natasha said later, as they reviewed combat footage. "You see the world differently. While everyone else is learning individual moves, you're processing entire systems."
"Too bad I can't just download kung fu like in The Matrix," Arun joked, rubbing his sore muscles. Then he saw her expression. "Wait... that wasn't actually a documentary, was it?"
A rare smile flickered across her face. "No. But your idea of treating combat like a complex game system... it has potential. The question is: are you finally ready to put in the work?"
Arun looked at his reflection in the training room mirror. Two weeks of regular exercise and actual meals had already begun reshaping him. But more than that, he saw something in his eyes he hadn't seen in years: purpose.
"When I was gaming," he said slowly, "I'd spend hours, days, weeks perfecting a raid strategy or mastering a combat system. If I could dedicate that much time to virtual achievements..."
"Then maybe you can dedicate it to surviving what's coming," Natasha finished. She pulled up a holographic display showing temporal distortions similar to what had brought him here. "These anomalies are increasing. Whatever dropped you into our universe isn't finished. We need to prepare you."
"And what if I'm not ready? What if I'm not meant to be a hero?"
"Nobody is meant to be anything." She shut down the display. "We become what we choose to become, one decision at a time. You've spent years mastering virtual worlds. Time to master this one."
That evening, alone in his assigned quarters, Arun did something he hadn't done since arriving: he opened the compound's computer system. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, muscle memory itching to launch a game. Instead, he pulled up combat training simulations.
"Computer," he called out, "run Program Black Widow Alpha-7. Let's try something new."
As the training program initialized, Arun smiled. For the first time in his life, he wasn't playing to escape reality – he was playing to master it.
The simulation began, and Arun moved with growing confidence. Each strike, each dodge, each strategic decision felt like unlocking a new achievement. But this time, the achievements were real. The progress was real.
And somewhere in the quantum realm, forces beyond his understanding continued to swirl, preparing to test just how real his progress had become.
To be continued...