The observation deck overlooked the training floor, a vast space of padded mats and reinforced walls. Below, Y/n and Peter moved in a blur of controlled strikes and counters.

Peter flipped over a sweep, landing light on the balls of his feet. Y/n pressed forward without hesitation, forcing him back toward the corner. Neither of them pulled their punches.

The Avengers stood at the glass first—Tony with his arms crossed, Steve frowning thoughtfully, Natasha with that sharp, calculating look she got when she was reassessing someone. The DSMP filtered in behind them, drawn by the sound of impacts echoing up from below.

Philza stopped beside Tony, wings folded tight against his back. His eyes tracked Y/n's footwork.

Tommy shoved his way to the front, tail lashing once behind him.