Gwen's lips parted slightly in surprise.
She stared at the air in front of her, where a cloud of dust—shaped like a heavy sandbag—was slowly dispersing in the sunlight. The way it shimmered and dissolved felt almost unreal.
A heavy blade needs no sharp edge. Mastery lies in restraint.
Hawk exhaled slowly, standing still for a moment before turning around.
Gwen's eyes shifted back to him.
Their gazes met.
She saw him—sweat glistening on his forehead, a simple white tank top stretched over his lean, muscular frame, both fists wrapped tightly in worn bandages. And in that moment, something stirred inside her. She couldn't quite name it.
Hawk, for his part, was surprised to see Gwen here at all.
"You need something?" he asked.
"No," she replied, shaking her head, hands clasped behind her back. As she walked closer, she glanced around the old gym—the one no one used since the new sports complex was built. "The new gym has air conditioning. Why come here?"
Hawk thought for a second.
"It's quiet here."
"Yeah... it is quiet," Gwen agreed with a small nod.
Her tone was casual, but her presence unsettled him. Hawk watched as she strolled over to the bench where his backpack sat, then calmly took a seat like she belonged there.
"You sure you don't need anything, Gwen?"
"Nope."
Smiling, she leaned back on her palms and looked at him. "Just bored. Thought I'd enjoy the view of a friend working out."
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
There was something behind that smile. He could feel it, but couldn't put his finger on it.
Whatever. He shook his head, letting it go. He had punches to throw.
He turned back to the sandbag. He still had to finish his daily ten thousand punches. He'd nearly been done when Gwen walked in.
Now? Back to square one.
Hawk refocused his breathing, choosing not to channel his Microcosm energy. He'd do it the hard way—flesh and bone. Just like always.
As for Gwen?
She could stay and watch if she wanted. This was a public gym, after all. Not like he could kick her out.
He took a stance.
And once again, the rhythmic thud of fists against canvas filled the quiet, aging gym.
Only this time, he picked up the pace—slightly faster than before. He wanted to finish quickly.
Punch after punch.
Faster. Stronger.
Then came the afterimages.
From the bench, Gwen blinked. For a moment, it looked like the air shimmered with hundreds of fists—blurring like ghostly echoes across her vision. She hadn't even blinked.
What... just happened?
She instinctively pulled out her phone and aimed it at him.
Hawk noticed in his peripheral vision.
"No filming."
"...Oh."
Without looking over, he said it flatly, his fists never missing a beat. Gwen blinked again. Was that real? Or did she imagine his voice?
She lowered her phone anyway.
A few minutes later, the illusion of fists faded. Hawk slowed, then stopped, silence falling over the gym once more.
He grabbed the chain and unhooked the sandbag. With a single-arm toss, he flung it back into the corner.
As Gwen watched, he walked over to the bench, unzipped a side pocket on his backpack, and pulled out a towel. He glanced at her.
"...You sure you don't need something, Gwen?"
She nodded.
"Actually, yeah. I do."
Hawk's mouth twitched.
She saw it. And smiled.
But she didn't tease him further. Instead, she got to the point.
"They're gathering names for the senior dance. You going this year?"
Midtown High, despite its reputation as an elite private school, still held the usual parties—homecoming, masquerade balls, and of course, the senior dance.
Every year, Gwen would ask.
And every year, Hawk said no.
He was a lone wolf. Preferred peace. Hated noise.
At least, that was the polite version.
The truth?
He was broke.
Couldn't afford a decent outfit. No car. No driver's license. What was he gonna do—walk his date home afterward?
And let's not forget...
He didn't have a date.
Why go to a dance just to watch couples being gross in public?
This year was no different.
"No," he said flatly.
He'd rather spend the evening on his apartment rooftop, watching the stars.
Quiet. Peaceful. Free.
Money was tight lately. He'd moved out, no more federal aid. Between rent and stocking up on basic supplies, his savings had taken a serious hit.
Honestly, thinking about buying a car a few days ago? Dumbest idea he'd had in a while.
He'd dropped that plan.
Better to save up. Just in case.
Besides, the school had a free shuttle to the bridge park station. Who needed a car?
He didn't even have a license.
Even if he had a car, he couldn't drive it.
Damn.
Maybe he should rob a bank. After all, even meteors cost money.
Wait...
If he was planning to rob something, why stop at a bank? Why not go straight for the meteors?
Why bother converting to cash at all?
It's not like he'd rob a bank, then waltz up to some rich guy and buy a meteor chunk off him.
That'd be insane.
His thoughts spiraled.
He was seriously starting to weigh the pros and cons of just robbing a meteor instead.
Vibranium? Wakanda would never hand that over peacefully.
He'd probably have to take it by force someday.
And if he was gonna steal vibranium... well, stealing a meteor didn't seem much worse. And if you were doing both, what's one more bank job?
From her seat, Gwen watched him fall silent, eyes suddenly distant.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
"Robbing a bank."
"…"
Gwen raised an eyebrow.
Hawk blinked and looked at her.
Their eyes met again.
She gave him a sly smile. "If that's the case, I suggest the Pacific Bank under the 19th Precinct's jurisdiction."
Hawk frowned slightly.
"Is that an easy one to hit?"
"No," she said sweetly. "But my dad's the captain of the 19th Precinct."
Hawk went quiet.
After a long pause, he looked at her seriously.
"...I was kidding."
Yep. If he ever did rob a bank, it sure as hell wouldn't be in her dad's district.
Gwen stood up, still smiling.
She opened her mouth to say something, but her phone buzzed in her pocket.
"Mrs. Snow... Yes… Hawk? Yeah, I know where he is."
She ended the call and looked at him.
"Come on. Mrs. Snow wants to see you."
"..."