Jason stood tall at the center of the training ground, his muscles coiled, his mind bracing itself for the inevitable onslaught. His chest heaved with the exertion of his previous drills, the sting in his knuckles a reminder of his relentless focus. But now, he was being tested against sothing far more dangerous.
Lady Shiva stepped out, her movents fluid and silent, like the whisper of wind through the trees. Her attire was simple—a tight, form-fitting suit that allowed for the freedom of movent. Her black hair cascaded down her back, the only color in the otherwise monochromatic landscape. She approached him, her eyes gleaming with sharp intent.
She closed the distance between them in a blink, her speed a blur, and before he could react, her hand was at his throat, just inches from choking him. He barely managed to catch her wrist, the pressure already building. But Jason was quick—he twisted, using his knee to knock her off balance, and in that mont, he managed to push her back.
Shiva stepped away, eyes glowing with approval.
“Impressive. But not enough.”
Jason’s pulse raced, his body on high alert. “Not enough?” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I just knocked you off your feet.”
She tilted her head, almost curious. “Yes. But you failed to make it count. You lack patience. Control. You strike when you should wait.”
Jason’s jaw clenched from a strangely familiar feeling. He wasn’t used to hearing this from soone who wasn’t Bruce, nor does he rember. And there was no mistaking it, Shiva wasn’t a teacher who offered complints.
“You’ve trained in combat for two months now, yet you seem to lack composure in your movents,” Shiva continued, circling him. “Unrefined. Reckless.”
She struck then, faster than he could follow.
‘Fuck, she’s good.’ Jason thought to himself as he made multiple attempts to try and parry her attacks.
In between blocking—dodging, parrying her attacks and with occasional counter attacks of his own, he managed to create a bit of space between them so he could catch his breath and hoped to neutralize the montum of their fight.
With deep inhale and a long exhale, he cald his nerves but imdiate had to deal with an incoming strike.
Her fist connected with his ribs, a blow that would have broken most n’s bones, but Jason gritted his teeth and withstood it, retaliating with a swift kick to her stomach. She absorbed it with ease, stepping back to give him space.
“That was better,” she acknowledged, her tone unchanging. “But still unrefined. You act on instinct, not consciously thought out attack patterns.”
Jason, now panting slightly, straightened. He was used to this. Used to being over powered by stronger individuals like he wasn’t good enough to even fight them. But sothing in Shiva’s gaze—it wasn’t pity. It was the quiet acknowledgnt that he had the potential to be better.
“What’s your point?”
“You have a very long way to go in your training,” Shiva said flatly. “And until you understand how to move not just with your body, but with your mind, you will always fall short. You are too emotional, too quick to react.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I should think more during combat? Or that I should just let my opponent strike first and give them the advantage?”
Her lips quirked In the smallest of smirks. “You think too much. It’s not about waiting for the right mont or attacking where feels like an opening. Create it yourself. You should already know how your enemy will react to certain attacks the mont you engage it. Read their reaction and control it.”
Jason shook his head. “Yeah? And how am I supposed to do that?”
Shiva’s smile was cold, calculating. “By practicing patience. By learning that every movent, every action has a purpose. You cannot afford to let your emotions during combat cloud your judgnt.”
Jason clenched his fists at his sides, the sting of her words more painful than any physical blow.
“You never said anything about being calm,” Jason muttered, his voice carrying a trace of bitterness. “How do I just shut it off? Everything that’s stirs inside ?”
Shiva looked at him, her gaze piercing. “You don’t. But you learn to control it. Rage is a weapon. But only when you can wield it without losing yourself to it.”
Jason stood still, trying not to let those words strike a nerve. ‘I swear if I hear that sa line one more ti, I’ll fucking…’
(Low grunt)
“Fine,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more controlled. “Show .”
Shiva nodded, stepping back into position. “This ti, you’ll fight with clarity.”
As they squared off again, Jason’s heart still beat with intensity, but now, it was tempered.
Inside, he could feel the overwhelming urge to instantly close the space between them and just slit her throat with the pocket knife he had hidden in his sleeves, but he managed to get a better handle on it and not let that feeling of blood lust overwhelm him or tell him what to do.
Instead, he tried channeling that feeling and projecting it as an anchor so he doesn’t loose sight of himself between combat.
He’d listened. He was listening, despite the anger that still churned beneath his skin. Shiva’s teachings were harsh, but they were necessary.
This was never about conquering his chaotic impulses in an instant, a concept he had misunderstood from the very start, even with Ra’s teachings. It was about harnessing them—giving them direction.
Taking deep inhales and look exhales, he clenched his fists and rose his guard. There was a strange and sudden change in the atmosphere as Jason let out the last long breath.
His presence beca so dominant that it had the skin of others around the area, crawling with goosebumps.
And Shiva recognized the change in the atmosphere.
The tensed air thickened as Jason’s focus sharpened, the noise of his heartbeat fading into the background.
Shiva moved first—a flash of speed, her fist cutting through the air, aid squarely at his face. He reacted instantly, dropping his hips and raising his left arm to block. His stance was steady, his core tight, and without hesitation, he launched a counterattack with his right fist.
Though caught off guard by his sudden shift in deanor and the sharp precision of his movents, Shiva twisted her body just in ti, evading the strike. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusent and challenge.
“Good,” she murmured, impressed. “Now you are thinking while evading, not relying on your instinct and unfamiliar muscle mories. But you still lack follow-through.”
“You see?” Shiva said, her voice a cold whisper in his ear as she circled around him like a predator. “You can predict movents, but you need to anticipate them. It’s not enough to block. You must read your opponent and their every intention.
By reading how muscle’s relax and contract, it could tell you how it’s going to move.”
Jason gritted his teeth, his breathing steady despite the sting in his side. “I’m not so psychic. I don’t know what they’re going to do until they move.”
She tilted her head, amused by his response. “If you are thinking that, then you are already behind.”
She advanced, but this ti, Jason didn’t wait. He launched himself at her, his strike swift and calculated. He no longer executed primitive movents or attacked brainlessly.
This ti, it was controlled, asured. His fist aid for her throat, but Shiva blocked it with a casual flick of her wrist, a sharp crack ringing through the air.
Jason recoiled, his thoughts scrambling, but Shiva was already there, her knee aid at his chest. He barely managed to twist out of the way, the rush of her speed overwhelming him.
“You’re still thinking like a brawler,” she scolded, as if disappointed. “When you move, your mind must flow with your body. Not the other way around. You try to compensate for your weaknesses, but you ignore your strengths.”
Jason narrowed his eyes, the faintest hint of frustration creeping in. “Don’t an to ruin the mont or anything, but my mind isn’t the safest place right now.” He said flatly as he steadied himself, rembering the words she’d painfully drilled into him so far. ‘Anticipate. Control. Own the mont and execute at my own pace.’
This ti, he didn’t charge. He waited. He watched. Shiva, expecting his unrefined pattern of attack, hesitated, just for a mont. And that was all he needed.
He launched forward with calculated precision, this ti aiming for a strike to her left shoulder—a weak point he’d noticed during their previous sparring sessions. His fist connected with the exact spot, the impact sending a jolt through his arm.
Shiva stumbled back, her eyes narrowing, impressed but not surprised. “That was a good hit. You’re learning.”
Jason’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, adrenaline still pulsing through him. “Not good enough,” he muttered, still feeling the sting of the earlier blows. “I need to do better.”
She studied him, her gaze piercing and intense. “You will. But rember this—strength is not just in the strike. It’s in knowing when not to strike. Knowing when to wait. When to move.”
Jason swallowed, a strange realization settling over him. Patience—it wasn’t just about holding back. It was about knowing the right mont to act, to not let the rage cloud his judgnt. To create that mont.
She stepped back, nodding approvingly. “Again,” she commanded.
Jason didn’t hesitate this ti. He squared up with her, his stance more fluid than before. He didn’t know exactly what would happen next, but he could feel it—he was ready for whatever she threw at him. His fists, once a wild storm of emotion, were now weapons of control.
And when they clashed again, Jason didn’t just react—he anticipated. He moved with purpose, and the fight beca more of a dance than a battle. For the first ti since he’d stepped foot into the League, he felt sothing else—sothing that felt strange to him. Control.
Fighting brought him a strange sense of control and thirst for purpose.
Shiva’s eyes glinted with approval as they broke apart, both of them breathing hard from the exertion. “Well done,” she said quietly. “Not many get to this point.”
Jason smirked, though his chest still burned. “Yeah? Well, I’m not many.”
She smiled, just barely. “No. You’re not.”
For a brief mont, there was a flicker of sothing else in her eyes—sothing almost like pride. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“You’ve co a long way,” Shiva said, stepping back. “But rember this, Jase, the journey is never over. You are only as good as your last fight.”
He nodded, feeling the weight of her words, but now, it didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a challenge—a challenge he'd like to rise to, no matter the cost.
“Then let’s make the next fight count,” he replied, his voice steady, his mind sharp.
Lady Shiva nodded once, her lips curling into the slightest of smiles. “It will.”
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