CH: 137 - Building Up Friendship

{Chapter: 137 - Building Up Friendship}

"Just open this area up," Aiden said, spreading his arms. "Should be empty down below. You can refurbish the top layer into a flashy nightclub to throw off suspicion, and beneath it... well, the perfect bunker for Green Arrow operations."

Oliver raised a brow. "A nightclub?"

"Come on," Aiden said with a grin. "You're a billionaire playboy with a mysterious reappearance, who just so happens to be throwing parties and club events to distract the public. Nobody would suspect you're also running missions at night from underneath the dance floor. Classic misdirection."

For a long moment, Oliver was quiet. Then, to Aiden's satisfaction, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "It's not a bad idea."

"You're welcome," Aiden said smugly, already surveying the ground like a foreman laying plans. "You can personalize the look, of course. But first things first. We dig."

Oliver nodded and moved to grab some of the old tools stacked nearby. "I'll need a demolition-grade drill or at least something strong enough to punch through the foundation—"

"No need," Aiden interrupted smoothly, stepping in front of him.

With a gesture of his hand, a shimmering green energy spiraled into the air above his head and condensed into a massive ethereal hammer. Without another word, Aiden brought the construct down hard on the concrete floor.

BOOM.

The entire factory rumbled, dust exploding outward as cracks spread through the ground like spiderwebs. Oliver raised an arm instinctively to shield his face.

Aiden frowned slightly, dissatisfied. "Not deep enough."

The hammer morphed into a mechanical pile driver and began pounding the floor rhythmically. THUD. THUD. THUD. Within minutes, the reinforced ground gave way, collapsing into a cavity below.

He stepped forward and peered into the dust-choked void. "Perfect."

Oliver peered down, then exchanged a look with Carol. Without hesitation, he dropped into the darkness. Aiden followed, wrapping Carol in a green glow of energy as they descended.

The basement below was vast, dark, and stale with age. The scent of oil and decay lingered in the air. Old machinery and forgotten crates stood like skeletal relics.

"It looks like hell down here," Oliver muttered, already analyzing structural supports, exits, and sightlines with a practiced eye. "Cleaning this would take weeks."

Aiden smirked. "Not when you've got me."

With a wave, a huge vacuum cleaner—comically oversized—manifested beside Carol, who gave it a curious look. The machine rumbled to life and began devouring the layers of dust with impressive force.

Carol blinked. "Okay, that's new."

Oliver crossed his arms, eyebrow raised. "Your abilities… are they always this flashy?"

"They can be," Aiden replied with a wink. "Though I'm still refining them. Some applications are... experimental."

"You wrapped her in energy but not me," Oliver pointed out dryly, rubbing his shoulder. "Would've been nice to not eat dirt the entire way down."

"I figured you could handle it, Robin Hood," Aiden replied, chuckling. "Besides, she's prettier."

Carol rolled her eyes, half-smiling.

Oliver's expression turned serious again. "You're powerful. I get that. But I don't trust you."

Aiden's grin didn't fade. "You don't have to. I trust you. That's enough for now."

Oliver stared at him a beat longer, then turned his back. "This is my base. I'm taking the lead on how it's built."

"I'm fine with that," Aiden said. "But don't blame me when you need a shower system powered by alien energy and you can't wire it into the grid."

"Hilarious," Oliver muttered as he climbed back up the stairs. "I'll be back in two hours with my gear."

---

Two Hours Later

Oliver returned, hauling several black duffel bags filled with gear, tools, and his prototype suit—light armor reinforced with flexible plating, and a collapsible compound bow in a specially padded case. He paused as he stepped inside.

He stopped cold.

The entire interior had been transformed. The grime and decay were gone, replaced by a polished steel floor and walls. Embedded LED lights cast a soft glow. Consoles and empty mounts were already placed for weapon storage and tech. It was bare-bones—but it was clean, functional, and full of potential.

Oliver stood in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. A ghost of emotion flickered in his eyes.

"This…" he said finally, "this is more than I expected."

Aiden gave a thumbs-up from where he stood with Carol near the center. "Told you it'd be done. I don't half-ass."

"Alright," Oliver muttered, setting his bags down. "Let's test what I do have."

"Perfect!" Aiden clapped his hands. "Carol asked what kind of powers you have, and I said—direct quote—'He's a god-tier archer with a temper problem.' Don't make me look like a liar in front of my girlfriend."

Carol blushed a little but leaned forward, her expression genuinely intrigued. "Is it true? I've seen people claim to be good with a bow, but…"

Oliver gave a half-smile and opened his case.

He drew out his bow and notched a blunt-tipped practice arrow with fluid grace.

---

Oliver shifted uncomfortably under Aiden's and Carol's expectant gazes. He was used to shooting to kill, not to entertain. Archery wasn't a party trick or some carnival show—it was a weapon, a tool forged in pain, discipline, and necessity. To him, every arrow fired carried weight—emotional, moral, tactical.

He sighed, trying to shake off the unease, and knelt by the weathered duffel bag he'd brought. Flipping it open, he removed a sleek, custom-made recurve bow and a set of arrows—gear that looked like it belonged in a warzone, not a shooting gallery.

The moment the bow touched his fingers, a subtle shift occurred.

His shoulders squared. His gaze hardened. The tension in his posture melted into fluid readiness. The haunted man returned to the mask he wore best.

Green Arrow.

Aiden caught the change immediately and gave Carol a knowing look. "Now you're gonna see the real Oliver Queen."

Aiden casually manifested a glowing yellow tennis ball using the reality ring, giving it a little toss as if testing its weight. Then, without warning, he flung it forward with a sudden flick of his wrist.

The ball had barely left his hand when Oliver drew the bowstring back and loosed an arrow. The shot was smooth, effortless—and deadly accurate.

Thunk!

The arrow slammed through the tennis ball mid-air and embedded it deep into the wall behind them.

Carol blinked, genuinely stunned. "Whoa… did you even aim?"

"I did," Oliver said flatly, eyes still locked on the point of impact.

Aiden grinned. "Alright, let's dial it up."

He conjured three more tennis balls. They hovered briefly in the air, glowing like small bulbs. Then, he launched them at different speeds and trajectories—one straight ahead, one arcing high, and one low to the ground.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Three arrows blurred through the air, each one catching its target with pinpoint precision. The balls were nailed to the wall in a triangle pattern—symmetrical, surgical, and impossible to ignore.

Carol's eyes widened, and she instinctively clapped, awestruck. "That was incredible! You're like a human sniper."

Aiden let out a low whistle as he retracted his glowing constructs. "Man, you weren't kidding. You're damn good. I've only seen one other guy with hands that steady."

Oliver raised an eyebrow as he lowered his bow. "Yeah? Who?"

"Hawkeye."

"Hawkeye?" Oliver echoed, his expression taut with curiosity and challenge. "Never heard of him."

Aiden said with a slight grin, eyes gleaming with interest. "If the opportunity shows up, I'd love to see you two compete."

The name didn't mean anything to Oliver, but the implication did. Another archer? One good enough to be in the same league?

He hadn't met the guy yet, but in the Marvel world, Clint Barton—Hawkeye—was known as the archer. A man who stood shoulder to shoulder with gods and monsters using nothing but a bow and a handful of specialized arrows. Just like Oliver.

Or should he say just like Oliver as Hawkeye is copy of him just like many characters in both comics.

That was what made it exciting. They were cut from the same cloth—deadly aim, precision, and a refusal to back down. But Aiden couldn't help his curiosity. Who was actually better?

The thought triggered a memory from his previous life—a YouTube series he used to watch: Death Battle. One of the matchups had been Hawkeye versus Green Arrow. And in that animated fight, Hawkeye won. Why? Simple. Because he was just a little tougher. Twice times faster. A little more durable. Oliver had the skills, the creativity, even the cooler arrows, but in a toe-to-toe brawl… he couldn't last long enough.

It almost feels like hawkeye's creator took a look at green arrow, saw his bow poundage, and told the comic artist, "yeah, double that"

"Green Arrow may have an arrow for every situation," Aiden said with a shrug. "But he didn't have one that made him faster, stronger, or tougher than Hawkeye."

That match stung. DC characters are very rarely lost in those showdowns. As the old saying went—DC heroes are gods trying to be human, Marvel heroes are humans trying to be gods. And yet, in that one, Marvel came out on top.

'But hey,' Aiden added, smirking as he looked at Oliver, 'that was just a fan-made fight. This is the real world now. Maybe this time the result will be different.'

He leaned forward slightly, the competitive fire in his voice undeniable.

Oliver's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "If I ever meet him… I'd welcome the challenge."

Carol nodded in agreement, visibly impressed. "Honestly, I didn't expect that. You don't look like someone who'd be this… precise."

That earned a small, amused exhale from Oliver. "I get that a lot."

Aiden stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, now that we've had our fun, I'll leave you to it. You've got a lot to figure out—building the base, customizing the underground level, probably even securing the place with some hidden tech, and building a surveillance system for the whole city. I'm not gonna hover."

He raised his hand, and a glowing sequence of numbers appeared in the air like a hologram. "Here's my contact. I'll be in Star City for the next seven days. You need help? You know how to find me."

Oliver looked at the numbers, memorized them instantly, and gave a small nod. "Thanks."

With that, Aiden turned, gesturing for Carol to follow him. She gave Oliver a quick wave before walking beside Aiden as they ascended toward the surface.

*****

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