In Marvel with the Force?

The buzz of conversation filled the school hallway as Tyr navigated his way to class. Students bustled about, laughing and chattering like nothing had happened. To them, the mountain incident was just a brief hiccup, a dramatic story to tell their friends before moving on with their lives.

But not for Oliver.

Tyr spotted him near the lockers, hunched over like he was trying to disappear. His face was pale, his expression distant, and his shoulders seemed to sag under an invisible weight.

Since school had resumed, Oliver had avoided everyone, retreating into a shell that no one seemed able to crack. He didn't speak, didn't smile. The silence was louder than anything he could have said, and Tyr knew he couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Oliver," Tyr called as he approached.

Oliver flinched, his gaze snapping to Tyr with a startled intensity. For a moment, he looked ready to bolt.

"Hey," Tyr said, stopping a few feet away to give him space. "You've been... off lately. Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Oliver muttered, his voice barely audible.

Tyr raised an eyebrow. "You're not fine."

"I said I'm fine," Oliver snapped, his voice sharp enough to draw a few curious glances.

Tyr ignored them. He crossed his arms, his tone calm but firm. "Look, I'm not here to argue. I just... I know what you're going through."

Oliver scoffed. "Yeah, sure you do."

"I do," Tyr said, his voice steady. "Because I'm like you."

The hallway noise faded into the background as Oliver stared at Tyr, his disbelief plain as day. "You?" he said, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Tyr nodded. "Telekinesis," he said simply.

It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a lie either. The Force wasn't something he could easily explain, and right now, Oliver needed something relatable.

Oliver frowned, his expression softening as confusion overtook his anger. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I can help you," Tyr replied. "You're not alone in this, Oliver. And if you don't figure out how to control your powers, things could get worse."

Oliver's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping further. "I don't even know what they are," he admitted quietly.

"Then we'll figure it out," Tyr said. "Together."

By the time the lunch bell rang, Tyr had convinced Oliver to meet him after school.

"I've got a place," Tyr said as they walked to their next class. "Somewhere private where we can train. No one will bother us."

Oliver looked skeptical but eventually nodded. "Alright. I'll... give it a shot."

Later that evening, Tyr led Oliver to a large, nondescript warehouse on the edge of the city. Its faded exterior gave no indication of the cutting-edge equipment hidden inside.

"This is yours?" Oliver asked, glancing around as Tyr unlocked the heavy metal door.

"Rented," Tyr corrected, pushing the door open. "Come on."

They stepped inside, and Oliver froze in his tracks, his jaw dropping slightly. The warehouse was a mix of training space and high-tech workshop. Padded mats covered the open floor, surrounded by workbenches piled with tools, schematics, and pieces of a futuristic suit.

"Whoa," Oliver muttered, his eyes wide. "This is... insane."

Tyr smirked, setting his bag down. "Thanks, I guess. Now, let's get started."

Tyr led Oliver to the center of the room, where the mats provided a safe space to practice.

"So," Tyr began, crossing his arms, "what do you know about your powers?"

"Not much," Oliver admitted, scratching the back of his head. "During the mountain thing, I felt... something. Like energy building up inside me. But I don't know what it was or how to use it."

"Okay," Tyr said, nodding thoughtfully. "Let's start simple. I'll throw something at you, and you see if you can react to it."

"Wait, what?" Oliver said, his voice rising with alarm.

"Relax," Tyr said, grabbing a foam ball from a nearby shelf. "I'll start small."

He tossed the ball lightly at Oliver, hitting him square in the chest.

"Seriously?" Oliver said, giving Tyr a deadpan look.

"Focus," Tyr said, tossing another ball. "Tell me if you feel anything unusual."

Oliver sighed but closed his eyes, concentrating.

On the third toss, Tyr noticed it—a faint, shimmering ripple across Oliver's body as the ball made contact.

"There!" Tyr said, his voice excited. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Oliver asked, frowning.

"It's like you absorbed the impact," Tyr explained. "Try to focus on that feeling."

Over the next hour, they repeated the exercise, gradually increasing the intensity. Oliver began to notice the subtle sensations Tyr had pointed out—the way his body seemed to "catch" the energy of each hit.

"It's kinetic energy," Tyr said finally, pacing as he thought it through. "Your body absorbs the impact. That's why you don't bruise easily, right?"

Oliver blinked. "I... yeah. I guess that makes sense."

"But for now," Tyr continued, "you're just storing it. You're not releasing it yet. That's something we'll have to figure out later."

Oliver looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. His expression was a mix of awe and fear. "So, what do we do now?"

"Now, we keep training," Tyr said, clapping him on the shoulder. "This is just the start."

As Oliver left the warehouse that night, Tyr watched him go, his mind already racing with plans for their next session.

He had seen the spark of determination in Oliver's eyes, a glimmer of hope breaking through the fear and uncertainty.

For the first time in days, Tyr allowed himself to believe that things might get better.