Chapter 72: Boot Camp[IV]

Darius cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention. The room went silent. 

"Oh? So you think it's unfair?" he said, his voice low but carrying a dangerous edge.

The heroes immediately straightened up, some exchanging uneasy glances. Clint, never one to back down, shrugged and spoke up again, his tone half-joking but laced with genuine complaint.

"I mean, come on, Darius. We've been through the wringer here. Meanwhile, mini Darius is out there running around playing games with ice cream as the grand prize. You can't blame us for feeling a bit, uh, cheated."

Darius' eyes narrowed slightly, and without warning, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. His gaze swept over each of them like a predator sizing up its prey.

"You want to compare yourselves to Verity's recruits, is that it?" Darius asked, his voice calm but icy. "You think you deserve the same 'training' as those kids?"

The heroes remained quiet, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Darius continued, his voice growing sharper. "Fine. You want to play games? Let's play a game."

Suddenly, the room's training systems activated again with a loud hum. The familiar pressure of power suppression returned, and Darius stepped forward, his expression unreadable.

With a snap of his fingers, the floor beneath the heroes began to shift, morphing into a new course—a twisted, chaotic version of the training room, filled with impossible obstacles and harsh terrain. This was no normal course. It was something straight out of a nightmare.

"No powers," Darius said coolly. "No shortcuts. And no complaints."

Steve exchanged a quick glance with Clark, the two of them already bracing themselves for what was coming.

Darius gave a wicked smirk. "You'll be running this course until you stop complaining. Every lap you whine, every time you falter, I'll double the intensity."

Clint's eyes widened. "Wait, what—?"

"Go!" Darius barked, his voice ringing out like a drill sergeant's.

Without another word, the older heroes sprang into action, bolting forward and navigating the course. The room shifted and twisted around them, obstacles appearing out of thin air, and Darius' voice echoed in the background, reminding them of every little complaint they had voiced.

Bruce, ever focused, silently endured the brutal gauntlet, his mind calculating each movement. Steve led with determination, even though it was clear that this was no ordinary run. The obstacle course was designed to wear them down, physically and mentally.

Clint, struggling to keep pace, grumbled under his breath, "This is *insane…"

And just like that, the course shifted again, increasing in difficulty as Darius' words rang in his ears: "No complaints."

Clark, used to having his Kryptonian powers to rely on, found himself slipping and struggling against the sheer physical demands of the course, all while Darius watched with that cold, judging gaze.

"Pick up the pace, Kent!" Darius snapped.

As they pushed themselves through the torturous course, Darius stalked around the edges like a predator watching its prey. The heroes dared not complain again, knowing that even the slightest murmur would lead to more pain. Every now and then, Darius would give them a merciless comment.

"You think this is unfair? Maybe next time you'll appreciate what real training looks like," he called out, his voice echoing ominously.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of relentless drills and impossible tasks, the course eased up—just enough for the exhausted heroes to catch their breath. But Darius wasn't done.

"I hope you learned your lesson," he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes still carried that hard glint. "Verity trains those kids because they're kids. You? You're supposed to be the best of the best. The leaders. The ones who can handle the hardest of challenges without complaining. Or have you forgotten that?"

The heroes, drenched in sweat and gasping for air, nodded silently, none of them daring to speak.

"Good," Darius said, his smirk returning. "Now, another lap."

Groans erupted from the group, but no one dared voice them aloud this time. Darius had made his point, and they all knew better than to cross him again.

The next lap was even harder, but this time, there was no complaining. Just pure determination to survive the hellish course Darius had thrown at them.

Somewhere in the distance, they could hear the faint sound of Verity laughing, still playing her games with the young X-Men, blissfully unaware of the torture her father had just unleashed on the older heroes.

==

=

The heroes, beaten, bruised, and absolutely exhausted from Darius' brutal training session, dragged their sore bodies through the halls, barely keeping themselves upright.

Most of them had zero interest in a shower, much less anything else, as the only thing on their minds was collapsing onto their beds and slipping into unconsciousness.

Just as they reached their rooms, however, the unmistakable sound of a blaring alarm rang through the halls, causing groans to erupt from every corner. 

"Now what?" Clint groaned, his voice muffled as he lay face-first on his bed.

Clark, already halfway through removing his boots, stopped, blinking through the fatigue. "It's probably—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Darius' voice boomed through the dorm speakers, way too chipper for their liking. "*Dinner is ready.*"

The heroes exchanged looks of utter disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding me," Steve muttered, running a hand down his face. "He can't be serious."

"After that torture?" Bruce grunted, standing up slowly, feeling every single muscle scream in protest. "I'd almost rather sleep."

But the rumble of stomachs told a different story, and despite their collective exhaustion, the thought of food—especially after the grueling day they'd had—was impossible to resist.

One by one, they begrudgingly shuffled toward the super-advanced, eight-star cafeteria.

When they arrived, the scene before them felt like a mirage. The cafeteria was pristine, with sleek, futuristic designs, and an aroma of mouth-watering cuisines from across the multiverse wafting through the air.

The tables were laid out elegantly, almost like a high-class banquet rather than a casual dinner hall. 

The heroes hesitated for a moment, taking it all in before the hunger took over. 

Diana, who had been leaning heavily on her spear for support, muttered with a raised brow, "Well, I wasn't expecting this."

Clark chuckled weakly, "At least the food's better than the training."

The moment the first plates were served, it was like a switch flipped. The heroes dove in, wolfing down the food with barely any care for formality. Plates were piled high with everything from roasted meats, pastas, exotic fruits, and desserts that looked like they belonged in a Michelin-starred restaurant. It wasn't just food; it was a feast fit for gods.

Clint, halfway through a mountain of steak, looked over at Bruce and muttered between bites, "You think he's compensating for the training session? Like a 'Sorry I almost killed you guys' meal?"

Bruce just shook his head, too focused on refueling his body to answer.

Nearby, Kitty and Scott Lang had their own impromptu contest to see who could eat the most. Kitty, always the competitor, was halfway through a plate of pizza, while Scott was making a considerable dent in a pile of tacos.

"Seriously," Wanda said, sipping from her glass, "I thought Darius was trying to kill us out there."

Natasha smirked. "He was. But he's balancing it out with all this."

As the heroes were indulging in their well-earned meal, the cafeteria doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and in strolled Darius. This time, he was all smiles, with Verity perched happily on his shoulders, her laughter filling the room as she animatedly told her father all about her day.

"I had so much fun, Papa!" Verity giggled, leaning over to grab his ear gently. "We ran laps, played tag, and nobody got in trouble! I think I'm a good trainer!"

Darius chuckled, patting her little leg. "Of course you are. Just like your old man."

The heroes, many of whom were still struggling to swallow their food, exchanged grimacing glances. How could the same man who had just hours ago been ruthlessly barking orders and running them ragged now be so… soft?

Clark leaned over to Steve, his voice low. "How does he switch so fast?"

Steve just shook his head in disbelief. "I have no idea. But we got the worst side of him."

Diana, who had been sitting nearby, smiled at the sight of Verity laughing with her father, but couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as well.

Her mind wandered for a moment, imagining what it would be like to have a child with Darius. The thought made her cheeks flush slightly.

Her daydream was interrupted when Verity suddenly locked eyes with her, grinning brightly. She waved with both hands, excited as ever. "Hi, Auntie Diana! Did you have a good day?"

Diana blinked, her momentary fantasy slipping away as she waved back. "I did, Verity. But it sounds like your day was even better."

"It was!" Verity beamed. "I wanna do it again tomorrow!"

As the cafeteria filled with chatter, Darius found himself leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching over the scene with a soft smile.

His eyes flickered from the heroes devouring their meals, to Verity bouncing from table to table, sharing her infectious energy with everyone.

Clint caught Darius' eye from across the room, lifting a fork in mock salute. "Nice spread, big guy. I gotta say, this almost makes up for the training."

Darius grinned, giving a nod. "Don't get used to it, Barton. Training continues at dawn."

Clint groaned, dropping his fork. "Of course it does."

Verity, who had been making her rounds, eventually made her way back to her father, jumping off his shoulders and landing gracefully on the floor. "Papa, can I train them tomorrow again?"

Darius chuckled, ruffling her hair. "We'll see. But tonight, let's focus on eating."

The heroes laughed, shared stories, and reveled in the fleeting sense of peace that came with good food and good company. Yet, deep down, they all knew that this was just a brief reprieve. Tomorrow would bring more challenges, more training, and more tests of their strength. 

But for now, they allowed themselves to enjoy the moment, even if it meant enduring a little more of Verity's playful energy—or Darius' unpredictable moods.

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