Chapter 12
Six months had passed in the cold, unyielding depths of the Maker's prison, and Albedo had adapted to the relentless monotony of captivity. The once-clean-shaven face now bore a trimmed goatee, a subtle but stark change that reflected the shift in his demeanor. His crimson eyes, sharper and more calculating than ever, scanned the environment constantly, taking in every detail, every flaw, every pattern.
The camaraderie among the prisoners had grown over time. Luke Cage often traded stories with Albedo, their shared disdain for the Maker forging a bond. The Winter Soldier's sharp wit and knack for observation had proven useful during their whispered conversations about guard patterns and routines. Jean Grey, enigmatic and reserved, had warmed up to Albedo in her own way, occasionally sharing insights that cut through the haze of their shared confinement.
But Albedo's true focus never wavered. Over the months, he had meticulously gathered scraps of metal from careless guards—worn belt buckles, loose screws, even fragments of broken armor. He stashed them carefully, weaving them into the fabric of his cot or hiding them in plain sight among the room's reinforced metal framework. The guards never noticed, their complacency born of routine and overconfidence in the power dampeners.
Now, he sat cross-legged on his cot, his fingers deftly working to complete the makeshift EMP device hidden beneath the thin blanket draped over his lap. The others had grown accustomed to his quiet focus, the way his hands moved with almost obsessive precision.
"You've been at that for weeks," Luke Cage said from across the hall, leaning against the wall of his cell. "You sure it's gonna work?"
Albedo didn't look up, his voice calm and measured. "It'll work. The question isn't whether it'll work—the question is whether we're ready for what comes next."
The Winter Soldier smirked faintly, his mechanical fingers tapping against his cot. "You've got a plan for after you hit that switch, right? Because if you don't, we're all dead."
"I always have a plan," Albedo replied, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And it doesn't involve staying in this place."
Jean Grey, seated quietly in her cell, watched him with an almost imperceptible smile. "He's right," she said softly, her voice cutting through the tension. "We don't belong here. None of us do. It's time we reminded the Maker of that."
Albedo finished the last connection, his hands pausing for a moment as he admired his work. The device was small, barely the size of his palm, but it hummed faintly with potential. He had designed it to emit a short but powerful burst of electromagnetic energy, enough to disable the dampeners and send the facility into chaos—if only for a short time.
He glanced at the others, his gaze steady and unwavering. "When this goes off, the power dampeners will fail. We'll have a small window to take out the guards and secure an escape route. Stay sharp, stay focused, and don't get killed."
Luke grinned faintly. "No pressure, huh?"
Albedo held the device in his hand, his finger hovering over the activation switch. "Here we go," he said, more to himself than anyone else. Then, without hesitation, he pressed the button.
The EMP activated with a sharp pulse, a low hum rippling through the air as the lights flickered and dimmed. The dampeners' hum ceased, leaving a moment of eerie silence.
The silence after the EMP pulse lasted only a fraction of a second before the prison plunged into chaos. The once-constant hum of the dampeners vanished, replaced by the blaring of alarms and the shouts of guards scrambling to respond. Lights flickered erratically, plunging parts of the corridors into darkness while others were bathed in the crimson glow of emergency lights.
Albedo stood from his cot, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. His body, now free from the oppressive dampeners, surged with energy. He focused, feeling the familiar hum of his mutant DNA-altering ability kicking back in. A sense of power returned to him like a long-lost ally.
"Move!" Albedo barked, his voice sharp as he turned to his allies.
Luke Cage grinned as he cracked his knuckles, the flickering lights reflecting off his unbreakable skin. "About damn time."
Across the corridor, the Winter Soldier leaped into action, his mechanical arm glowing faintly as its full power came online. He grabbed the bars of his cell, pulling them apart with a sharp screech of metal before stepping into the hallway.
Jean Grey stood motionless for a moment, her eyes closed as if concentrating. When they opened, her pupils glowed with a faint, fiery hue. "I'll deal with the guards," she said calmly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of power.
Albedo wasted no time. He transformed into XLR8, his body humming with energy as he darted across the corridor, pulling the locks on each cell. "Luke, Winter Soldier, take point. Jean, cover our backs. Let's clear this place out."
The guards came pouring into the hallway almost immediately, their weapons raised. "Hold it right there!" one of them barked, but before he could fire, Jean's eyes flashed, and his weapon was ripped from his hands by an invisible force. The guard was flung backward into the wall, landing in a heap.
Luke Cage charged forward, shrugging off the guards' stun batons like they were toys. His massive fists sent them flying with each blow, clearing the path with brute force. Behind him, the Winter Soldier moved with precision, disarming and incapacitating guards with ruthless efficiency.
Albedo switched to Four Arms, grabbing two guards at once and slamming them into the floor. He turned to the others, his deep voice carrying over the noise. "We need to hit the armory and take out the security center! Split up—Cage, Winter Soldier, you handle the guards. Jean, with me!"
Jean nodded, her expression calm but focused. "Lead the way."
Albedo darted ahead, shifting into XLR8 once more to scout the route. The guards' resistance grew stronger as they approached the armory, their weapons now fully online. Albedo zipped through the hail of bullets, disarming guards with precise movements before transforming into Swampfire to lay down cover with bursts of fire.
Jean followed closely, her telekinetic abilities creating an invisible barrier that deflected incoming projectiles. With a sharp gesture, she sent a group of guards flying into the walls, their weapons scattering across the floor.
The armory doors were reinforced, but they weren't prepared for Albedo's next move. Shifting into Diamondhead, he slammed his crystalline fists into the door, cracking it with each strike. "Jean!" he called over his shoulder.
Jean extended her hand, focusing her energy on the weakened door. With a groaning creak, it ripped off its hinges, crashing to the ground. Inside, racks of weapons and equipment gleamed in the flickering light.
"Take what we need and destroy the rest," Albedo ordered, shifting back to his base form as he scanned the room.
Jean nodded, her telekinesis lifting the most dangerous-looking weapons and crushing them like tin cans. Albedo worked quickly, grabbing a communicator and a guard's keycard. "This will get us into the security center."
"Then let's go," Jean said, turning to follow him.
Back in the corridors, Luke Cage and the Winter Soldier were holding their own against waves of reinforcements. Albedo and Jean rejoined them just as another squad of guards appeared, their heavy armor gleaming ominously.
"Time to finish this," Albedo said, shifting into Chromastone. His body glowed as he absorbed the energy from the guards' weapons, redirecting it in a massive burst that sent the entire squad sprawling.
"We're clear!" Luke Cage shouted.
"Not yet," Albedo said, his voice sharp. "We need to hit the security center and lock this place down."
"Lead the way," Winter Soldier said, reloading a rifle he'd taken from a guard.
The team moved as one, their combined skills cutting through the remaining resistance as they pushed toward the heart of the facility. Albedo's mind raced, every step bringing them closer to freedom—and closer to the next stage of the rebellion.
As the team pushed deeper into the prison, the hallways shook with the sounds of alarms and chaotic combat. The guards were thinning out, their ranks no match for the combined might of Albedo and the prisoners. But just as the group approached the final security checkpoint, the air grew heavy with a strange, magnetic pull.
The lights flickered ominously before going completely dark, plunging the hallway into shadows illuminated only by the faint red glow of emergency lighting. Albedo stopped mid-step, his crimson eyes narrowing. He felt it immediately—the metal around them was moving, shifting unnaturally, like a tide responding to an unseen force.
"Hold up," Luke Cage muttered, his unbreakable fists clenched. "Something's coming."
From the shadows ahead, Magneto floated into view, his presence commanding and suffocating. Behind him, Quicksilver appeared in a blur of silver and blue, stopping at his father's side with an impatient scowl.
"Well, well," Magneto said, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of menace. "I was wondering what kind of chaos would cause the Maker's perfect prison to fall into disarray. Imagine my surprise when I found you at the center of it all, Albedo."
Albedo stepped forward, shifting back into his base form as he faced Magneto. "Imagine my surprise when you showed up to help your oppressors. I thought you were supposed to be the mutant savior."
Magneto's eyes narrowed, and the air around him crackled with magnetic energy. "Do not test my patience. You know why I'm here."
Quicksilver stepped forward, his arms crossed. "You've got some explaining to do, pal. Where are Wanda and Lorna?"
Albedo's jaw tightened, his mind racing. He couldn't afford a direct confrontation with Magneto and Quicksilver, not in this confined space, and certainly not when the prison's escape plan was still in motion. But he couldn't let them stop him either.
"They're safe," Albedo said evenly, his voice calm but firm. "That's all you need to know."
"Not good enough," Quicksilver snapped, his expression darkening. "We've been looking for them for months, and you're going to tell us exactly where they are."
"Your daughters were being used by the Maker," Albedo replied sharply, his gaze locking onto Magneto. "I freed them, and now they're with Doom. Safe from all of this."
Magneto's expression twisted into something unreadable—half anger, half something closer to relief. "And why should I believe you?"
"Because," Albedo said, his voice unwavering, "if I wanted to hurt them, I wouldn't have risked my life to get them out. Ask yourself this, Magneto—why would the Maker hide them from you if he didn't fear what they could do?"
The magnetic energy in the air pulsed, a physical manifestation of Magneto's conflicted emotions. Quicksilver glanced at his father, his usual bravado faltering slightly.
"This is no time for games, Albedo," Magneto said, his voice softer but no less commanding. "If they're truly safe, you won't mind telling me where they are."
Albedo squared his shoulders, meeting Magneto's intense gaze. "They're under Doom's protection. If you want answers, you'll find them in Latveria."
Magneto's eyes burned with intensity, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned to Quicksilver, who shifted uncomfortably under his father's gaze.
"Father—" Quicksilver began, but Magneto cut him off with a raised hand.
"Enough," Magneto said, his voice cold. "If you've lied to me, Albedo, no force in this world—or any other—will save you."
"You'll see I'm telling the truth soon enough," Albedo said, his voice steady. "Now, unless you're here to help, I have a prison to tear down."
Magneto's gaze lingered on Albedo for a long moment before he finally stepped back, his magnetic pull fading. "Do what you must," he said, his tone grudging. "But if I find you've harmed them…"
"You won't," Albedo interrupted, turning away. "Now get out of my way."
With that, Magneto and Quicksilver stepped aside, their presence still heavy but no longer obstructive. Albedo motioned for his team to follow, his mind already racing with the next steps of the plan. The escape wasn't over yet.
The group pushed forward through the chaotic remains of the prison. Albedo led the way, his crimson eyes scanning every corridor, every shadow, searching for signs of more resistance. Behind him, Luke Cage and the Winter Soldier stayed alert, their combined strength and precision making quick work of the straggling guards. Jean Grey walked silently at the rear, her presence a quiet but powerful shield against any unexpected attacks.
Finally, they reached the loading bay—a large, open area where transport vehicles were parked. Albedo's eyes locked onto their target, a heavy-duty armored truck, perfect for making their escape. Its reinforced exterior would provide enough protection to survive an encounter with whatever the Maker might throw their way.
"There it is," Albedo said, motioning to the truck. "Let's move."
Luke Cage grinned, his steps quickening. "About time. Let's get out of this hellhole."
The group approached the vehicle, but as they did, a loud clang echoed through the bay. From the shadows above, two figures dropped with precision, landing gracefully in front of the truck.
"Well, what do we have here?" Hawkeye said, his bow already drawn, an arrow notched and ready. His tone was casual, but his sharp eyes were locked onto Albedo and his team. Beside him stood Sam Wilson, the Falcon, his wings extended and gleaming under the dim emergency lights.
"You've been busy," Falcon said, his voice calm but firm. "Unfortunately for you, this is where it ends."
"Wonderful," Albedo muttered under his breath, his body tensing. "Just what we needed."
"You've caused quite the mess," Hawkeye continued, his arrow aimed squarely at Albedo. "Surrender now, and we might go easy on you. Might."
Luke Cage stepped forward, his fists clenched. "You think we're just going to roll over because you showed up with a bow and some wings?"
Falcon raised an eyebrow. "You'd be surprised what we can do with those."
"Enough," Albedo said sharply, holding up a hand to stop Luke. His gaze locked onto Hawkeye. "You know what's happening here isn't right. The Maker is turning this world into a nightmare, and you're helping him."
Hawkeye shrugged, his bow never wavering. "And you're what, the hero in all this? Breaking out prisoners and causing chaos? You're just another problem we're here to solve."
Albedo gritted his teeth, knowing there was no reasoning with them. Falcon's wings flared as he stepped forward, his tone sharp. "You've got two options. Surrender now, or we bring you in by force."
Albedo shifted his stance, his voice steady but defiant. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Hawkeye smirked faintly. "Force it is, then."
The fight erupted in an instant. Falcon launched into the air, his wings slicing through the space between him and the team as he targeted Luke Cage. Hawkeye moved with precision, his arrows flying in rapid succession toward Albedo and Winter Soldier.
Albedo shifted into Chromastone, absorbing one of Hawkeye's explosive arrows before retaliating with a burst of energy that forced him to roll out of the way. "You're out of your depth, Barton," Albedo said, his voice echoing with power.
"Funny," Hawkeye shot back, notching another arrow. "I was about to say the same to you."
Falcon swooped low, targeting Jean Grey with a precise dive. She raised a telekinetic barrier, deflecting his strike and sending him tumbling to the ground. "I don't have time for this," Jean muttered, her voice tinged with irritation.
Luke Cage lunged at Falcon as he recovered, but the winged Avenger took to the air again, staying just out of reach. Winter Soldier fired a burst from his rifle, forcing Falcon to maneuver erratically.
Hawkeye dodged another of Albedo's blasts, his movements fluid as he circled around. "You've got some fight in you," he admitted. "But it's not going to be enough."
"We'll see about that," Albedo replied, shifting into XLR8. He darted forward, closing the distance in the blink of an eye and knocking Hawkeye's bow from his hands.
Falcon dove again, his wings cutting through the air like blades. This time, Jean Grey focused her telekinetic power, grabbing him mid-flight and slamming him into the ground. He groaned, but his wings flared, propelling him back into the air.
"We need to move!" Albedo shouted, switching forms again, this time into Four Arms. He grabbed the armored truck, lifting it slightly to shield his team from another volley of arrows.
"On it!" Luke Cage bellowed, charging forward to engage Falcon directly while Winter Soldier covered him with suppressing fire.
Jean focused her efforts on keeping Hawkeye at bay, her telekinesis snatching arrows mid-air and redirecting them back toward him. Albedo's mind raced as the chaos unfolded, already calculating their next move. They couldn't stay here much longer, not with reinforcements likely on the way.
The armored truck roared to life as Albedo slammed the accelerator, the massive vehicle barreling through the loading bay's final checkpoint. Luke Cage and Winter Soldier held on tight in the back, while Jean Grey sat calmly in the passenger seat, her eyes glowing faintly as she used her telekinetic abilities to keep pursuing guards at bay.
Behind them, the facility was in chaos. Falcon and Hawkeye scrambled to regroup, but with the damage to their forces and the total disruption caused by the prison break, they were unable to stop the group's escape. Albedo swerved sharply as they exited the compound, the reinforced truck smashing through the final barrier and into the open desert beyond.
"Everyone holding up?" Albedo shouted over the roar of the engine.
"Still in one piece!" Luke Cage replied from the back, his voice steady despite the bumpy ride. "But this thing better have gas to get us somewhere safe!"
"We'll worry about gas later," Albedo said through gritted teeth, his mind racing. He reached for the Rune etched onto his wrist, attempting to activate it again. The faint shimmer of energy flickered and then fizzled out entirely. His jaw clenched in frustration.
"What's wrong?" Jean asked, her voice calm but concerned.
"The Rune's still blocked," Albedo replied. "Magik's interference must still be active. I can't portal us back to Latveria."
Winter Soldier leaned forward from the back. "What's plan B, then? We can't just sit out here in the open. They'll be hunting us before we even stop moving."
Albedo gritted his teeth, the wheels in his mind turning. He couldn't fly back to Latveria without leaving the team behind, and traversing the open desert in this truck would only make them sitting ducks for reinforcements. Then an idea hit him—a risky one, but the only option they had.
"We're heading to New York," Albedo announced.
"New York?" Luke Cage echoed. "What's in New York that's gonna help us?"
"Peter and Tony," Albedo said, his voice firm. "If anyone knows someone who can deal with Magik's interference, it's them."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "You think they know Doctor Strange?"
"They might not know him personally," Albedo admitted, "but Peter's got connections. If anyone can track down Strange, it's him."
Winter Soldier crossed his arms, leaning back. "And what if the Avengers are already tipped off? You just fought Falcon and Hawkeye. The rest of them might not be far behind."
Albedo tightened his grip on the wheel, his determination unwavering. "Then we'll deal with it when it happens. Right now, this is our best shot."
The group fell silent, the only sound the roar of the truck's engine as it sped across the desert. Jean finally broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. "We'll need to be careful. The Maker's reach is everywhere."
Albedo nodded, his eyes focused on the horizon. "We don't have any other choice. If we're going to win this fight, we need every resource we can get."
The truck sped on, its destination set. Albedo's mind raced with possibilities, contingencies, and the weight of what lay ahead. They were far from safe, but for the first time since their escape, a glimmer of hope began to take shape.
The truck rolled to a stop just outside the familiar garage of the Stark Shop, its neon sign glowing faintly in the early evening light. The building looked unchanged from the last time Albedo had been here—simple, unassuming, but with an undeniable air of ingenuity radiating from it. The hum of tools and faint sounds of music seeped through the slightly open bay doors.
Albedo stepped out first, brushing off the dust from the journey. Behind him, Jean, Luke Cage, and Winter Soldier disembarked, their expressions a mix of caution and curiosity. Albedo took a deep breath before stepping forward, motioning for the others to follow.
Inside, the shop was as busy as ever. The rhythmic clanging of metal and the steady whirring of machinery filled the air. Peter Parker, dressed in a grease-stained shirt and overalls, stood at a workbench, tinkering with a futuristic-looking drone. His brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusted its wiring.
"Peter," Albedo called out, his voice cutting through the noise.
Peter froze mid-adjustment, his head snapping up. His expression quickly shifted from surprise to mild exasperation. "You again?" He wiped his hands on a rag and approached them, glancing at the unfamiliar faces behind Albedo. "What is it this time? You need another miraculous save or just here for a tune-up?"
"No time for jokes," Albedo said, his tone serious. "I need information."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're not exactly subtle. Who are your friends?"
"Jean, Luke Cage, and the Winter Soldier," Albedo replied quickly. "And we're not here for introductions. We're here for Doctor Strange."
Peter blinked at him, his expression immediately turning somber. He let out a small sigh and shook his head. "You're late. Strange is dead."
The words hit Albedo harder than he'd expected. "What?" he said, his voice sharp. "Since when?"
"A few years ago," Peter explained, his tone quieter now. "He was one of the first the Maker went after when he started consolidating his power. Couldn't have someone like Strange out there meddling with his plans. He was—" Peter hesitated, his voice catching slightly, "—he was killed along with his son."
"Strange had a son?" Jean asked, stepping forward.
Peter nodded, looking weary. "Stephen Jr. He was following in his father's footsteps. He had a lot of promise, but… it didn't matter. The Maker made sure they were both wiped out. No loose ends."
Albedo clenched his fists, his mind racing. The Maker had accounted for even the most unpredictable factors, eliminating key figures who could have posed a threat. "And there's no one else?" he pressed. "No other sorcerer or magician who can deal with this?"
Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not that I know of. The magical community's been in shambles ever since Strange was taken out. If Doom's still around, he's probably your best bet, and I know how you feel about asking him for more favors."
Albedo glanced back at Jean and the others, their expressions mirroring his own frustration. "We'll figure something out," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "We have to."
Peter looked back at his workbench, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but before he could change the subject, Tony Stark Jr. stepped into the room, wiping his hands on a rag. His sharp features mirrored his father's in many ways, and his eyes had the same piercing intelligence. He looked between the group and Peter, raising an eyebrow.
"What's with the superhero convention in my shop?" Tony Jr. asked, his tone light but curious.
"We're here for information," Albedo replied flatly, turning to face him. "Specifically about Doctor Strange."
"Ah, that explains the mood," Tony said, tossing the rag onto a nearby stool. "I heard the part about Strange being gone. Sad business, but Peter's not wrong—he was one of the first to go when the Maker really started locking things down."
"We've established that," Albedo said, his tone tight with frustration. "But if Strange is gone, there has to be someone else."
Tony tapped his temple thoughtfully, his expression turning serious. "Maybe there is. Back when Peter was running around as Spider-Man, we used to talk a lot. Shared intel, stories, stuff like that. One thing I remember is that Strange wasn't working alone. He had a wife—Clea."
Peter's head snapped up. "Oh, right! I completely forgot about her."
"Clea?" Jean asked, stepping forward. "Who is she?"
Tony folded his arms, his gaze turning thoughtful. "From what I remember, Clea was a sorceress too. Pretty powerful in her own right. Strange talked about her a few times, though never in much detail. She wasn't exactly… from around here."
"Not from here?" Albedo echoed, narrowing his eyes. "What does that mean?"
"She's from another dimension," Peter chimed in. "Someplace called the Dark Dimension. Strange said she had her own battles to fight there, but she was the real deal—magic just as strong as his, if not stronger."
"And where is she now?" Albedo asked, his voice sharp with urgency.
Tony shrugged. "That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? She disappeared after Strange and their son were killed. Some people think she went back to the Dark Dimension, others think she's in hiding. Either way, no one's seen her since."
Jean stepped closer, her voice calm but firm. "If she's out there, we need to find her. She might be our only chance to counter the Maker's magic."
Albedo nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Do you have any idea where to start looking? Anything Strange left behind that might lead us to her?"
Peter frowned, scratching the back of his head. "Maybe. Strange had a few safe houses scattered around. I don't know if they're still intact, but it's worth a shot."
Tony nodded in agreement. "I remember hearing about one in the city—an old brownstone. Might be a good place to start."
"Then that's where we'll go," Albedo said, his voice resolute. He turned to his team, his crimson eyes blazing with determination. "If Clea's out there, we'll find her."
The group made their way to the armored truck parked outside the shop, the cold night air wrapping around them as the quiet hum of the city echoed in the background. Albedo lingered behind as the others climbed into the vehicle, his crimson eyes turning back toward Peter, who had followed them to the door.
"You know," Albedo began, his tone softer than usual, "you and Tony could be a real asset to this fight. You've seen what the Maker's done. It's not just about survival anymore—it's about fixing what he's broken."
Peter leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he studied Albedo with a faint frown. "I get it. I do. But this… it's not something we can jump into. We're mechanics, engineers. Not soldiers."
"You were Spider-Man once," Albedo pointed out, his voice firm but not accusing. "You fought for the people who couldn't fight for themselves. That's exactly what this is about."
Peter's expression tightened, his gaze falling to the ground. "That was a long time ago. And you've seen what happened to the heroes who didn't fall in line. The Maker wiped them out, one by one. I can't risk that—not for me, not for Tony. I've got a shop to run. A life to protect."
Albedo clenched his fists, frustrated but unwilling to push further. He turned his gaze to Tony Jr., who had come out to join them, a small device in his hand. "What about you? You're Stark's kid. If anyone could make a difference, it's you."
Tony smirked faintly, though it lacked his usual bravado. "Tempting, but I'm with Pete on this one. We're good at fixing things, not blowing them up."
Albedo sighed, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But don't say I didn't give you the chance."
Tony stepped forward, holding out the small device. "That's why I'm giving you this. Meet Jarvis."
Albedo took the device, his brow furrowing as he inspected it. "An AI?"
"Not just any AI," Tony said, his tone light but his expression serious. "It's a Stark original. Jarvis is fully adaptive, fully responsive, and capable of integrating with pretty much any tech you throw at him. Think of him as your personal assistant—but smarter."
Peter added, "He's about as advanced as it gets. If anyone can help you out there, it's Jarvis."
Albedo stared at the device for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks. I'll make good use of it."
"You'd better," Tony said with a faint grin. "That thing wasn't easy to put together."
Albedo turned to Peter one last time, his voice quieter now. "You sure you're going to be okay here? The Maker won't ignore what we're doing forever."
Peter nodded, his expression firm. "We'll be fine. Just make sure you're the one who wins this thing."
Albedo smirked faintly, his resolve hardening. "I intend to."
Without another word, he turned and climbed into the truck, the engine roaring to life as it rumbled down the street. Peter and Tony watched from the doorway until the vehicle disappeared into the night, the weight of the battle ahead settling heavily in the air.
For Albedo, the road ahead was clearer than ever. Clea was the next step, and with Jarvis now at his side, the fight against the Maker felt just a little more within reach.