Marvel 616X

Chapter 5: The Prism

The cool air of the Latverian armory hummed faintly with the quiet whir of nearby equipment. Albedo stood before a full-length mirror, dressed in the combat uniform that had been crafted specifically for him. The dark suit clung to him like a second skin, the material both sleek and imposing. Each line and seam had been carefully considered during its design—most of which had come from Albedo's own specifications.

He turned slightly, studying how the suit moved with him. It wasn't just armor—it was a tool, a precision instrument tailored to his needs for the mission ahead. While Doom's resources had made it possible, the design itself bore Albedo's meticulous fingerprints.

Albedo couldn't help but release a sigh in slight frustration. He couldn't help but mentally admit that this armor is a masterpiece. A masterpiece that he himself would not be able to make on his own. Especially since there is magic woven with the technology.

Albedo ran his fingers across the faint symbols that decorated the suit's surface. The runes were subtle, nearly invisible unless viewed under the right light. They were seamlessly woven into the fabric, their patterns intricate and almost alien in their complexity.

Magic, Albedo thought, his brow furrowing. He had never dabbled in sorcery, and despite his intellect, the concept of using runes as enhancements was still foreign to him. Maybe learning some magic would be worth the effort. A mental note was made to see if magic was possible, especially since if this body is still a Ben Tennyson body the Anodite might make it possible.

"Doom said these would boost my physical abilities," Albedo muttered to himself, flexing his hands experimentally. His strength felt… amplified. His reflexes sharper. Even the slight tension in his muscles seemed to fade as the suit adapted to him. An idea crossed his mind. Would these runes affect his transformations?

But what exactly the runes were doing or how they worked was beyond him. It's like carrying a tool you don't fully understand, he thought, a twinge of frustration in the back of his mind. "As long as they do their job, I guess I can't complain."

He shifted his stance, watching the way the material flexed and moved with him. The suit shimmered faintly under the light, the fibers adjusting seamlessly to his every motion. Made from unstable molecules, the fabric was far from ordinary.

Unstable molecules, Albedo mused, running his hand down the sleeve. The Maker's control of this world means Doom was the one to create it, instead of Reed Richards. It's ironic, really. His greatest tool against the Maker originally comes from the man meant to be his greatest rival.

The material was resistant to extreme temperatures, adaptable to various environments, and even capable of minor self-repair. Albedo could feel it adjust slightly as he shifted his weight, as though it were alive.

It wasn't just protective—it was practical. This was a suit meant for survival, no matter what the mission demanded.

A faint shimmer ran across the suit's surface as Albedo activated a hidden system embedded in its design. A small holographic display appeared on his forearm, flickering with lines of data that scrolled rapidly across the screen.

He smirked faintly. "And this," he muttered, "is where Doom really outdid himself."

The suit's tech integration was one of its most valuable features. It could interact with other systems, hacking into security networks, intercepting communications, and even controlling nearby devices.

Albedo tapped a few controls, cycling through the available functions. A feed from the nearest surveillance cameras appeared on the display, giving him a bird's-eye view of the armory.

With this, I'll have the upper hand, he thought. No locked door or encrypted signal is going to keep me out.

With a quick swipe, the interface disappeared, and the suit returned to its sleek, unassuming form.

Reaching up, Albedo tapped a control embedded in the collar of the suit. Instantly, the dark material shimmered and shifted, its surface rippling like water before blending seamlessly into the surroundings.

The suit's stealth mode was more than just camouflage. It adjusted dynamically to its environment, creating a near-invisible cloak that made Albedo difficult to detect even under close scrutiny.

Perfect for sneaking into a Maker-controlled fortress, he thought, smirking slightly.

He cycled through the camouflage settings, watching as the suit adapted to various conditions. Urban camouflage, thermal invisibility, and even a full cloaking mode that rendered him nearly invisible.

"Not bad," he murmured, deactivating the mode and returning the suit to its standard appearance.

Albedo took one last look in the mirror, straightening his posture. The suit felt perfect—not just as armor, but as a symbol of the careful planning that had gone into this mission. It was a blend of Doom's resources and his own ingenuity, a partnership that felt as precarious as it was necessary.

This is it, he thought, exhaling slowly. Time to put it to the test.

With a final nod to his reflection, Albedo turned away from the mirror, his expression hardening. There was no room for hesitation now—the mission was about to begin.

Albedo strode through the darkened halls of Castle Doom, the faint sound of his footsteps barely audible against the hum of arcane energy that seemed to permeate the air. The suit fit him like a second skin, its subtle enhancements making every movement feel smoother, more precise. Yet, for all its utility, it was the looming task ahead that occupied his mind.

The grand doors to the War Room loomed ahead, intricately carved with scenes of Latverian triumphs and victories. Albedo pushed them open with a firm hand, stepping into a chamber that felt both alive and abandoned.

The War Room was vast, its walls lined with ancient maps and glowing displays of advanced schematics. Dust clung faintly to the edges of some consoles, a sign of disuse despite the meticulous care evident in every detail. A massive table stood at the center, its surface etched with intricate carvings that pulsed faintly with light. The room radiated an air of purpose, as though it had once been the epicenter of countless decisive moments.

This place hasn't seen action in years, Albedo thought, his sharp eyes scanning the chamber. The holographic displays on the walls flickered occasionally, showing tactical overlays of various regions. Old data? Or perhaps Doom was still keeping tabs on the world, even from here.

His gaze fell on a series of banners hanging high above the room, each bearing the crest of Latveria. Beneath them were faint shadows—places where other banners might once have hung. Allies, Albedo speculated. Doom must've worked with others back when he had the freedom to leave Latveria. Now, those alliances are probably as distant as this room's last battle plan.

At the far end of the room stood Victor von Doom, his presence commanding even amid the vastness of the chamber. He was alone, his emerald cloak draped over his shoulders and his hands raised as he worked through an incantation. The words he spoke were a mix of languages Albedo couldn't recognize, their cadence sharp and deliberate.

The glow of the runes surrounding Doom pulsed in rhythm with his words, casting eerie shadows across the War Room. Arcane symbols floated in the air around him, their shapes shifting and spinning as though alive.

Albedo leaned against the edge of the central table, his arms crossed as he watched. Magic again, he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. Despite his intellect, the mechanics of sorcery still eluded him. He didn't like relying on something he couldn't fully understand, but Doom's results thus far had been undeniable.

The ritual grew more intense, the air in the room crackling with energy. The runes etched into the floor flared brighter, and Doom's voice rose, his tone unwavering. Albedo glanced around the room again, his thoughts briefly drifting.

The War Room had clearly been built for collaboration. The carvings on the central table depicted Latverian victories, but there were faint scuffs and markings that hinted at years of use—maps laid down, plans drawn and redrawn.

Doom didn't build this room just for himself, Albedo thought. He must've had generals, allies, maybe even other rulers who worked alongside him. That's how he operates. He doesn't just dominate—he strategizes, brings others into his plans.

Yet now, the room felt hollow. The banners of allies were gone, and the consoles around the room were dim. Latveria might still stand strong, but the isolation Doom had imposed on himself was evident.

He's been in here alone for too long, Albedo thought, his gaze shifting back to Doom. Albedo could relate, as he thought back to his days as the prodigal Galvan. And now he's stuck relying on me to do what he can't. Desperation doesn't even begin to cover it.

The energy in the room reached its peak as Doom's voice boomed with finality. The glowing symbols around him flared brilliantly before fading into the air like embers carried by an invisible wind. The tension that had filled the chamber dissipated, leaving behind an almost unsettling quiet.

Doom lowered his hands, his emerald cloak settling around him as he turned to face Albedo. His mask glinted faintly in the dim light, but there was a resolute calm in his stance.

The room's charged energy began to dissipate as Doom stepped forward, his imposing figure framed by the fading glow of the arcane symbols. His gloved hands carried a faint shimmer of residual magic, and his voice, calm but commanding, broke the silence.

"This ritual," Doom began, gesturing to the now-dormant runes etched into the floor, "was necessary to ensure your survival and our continued connection. The Maker's reach is vast, and his agents are resourceful. This spell provides you with certain… advantages."

Albedo raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Doom's gloved hands and the runes still faintly glowing in the stone. "Advantages?"

Doom reached for Albedo's arm, and though Albedo hesitated for a moment, he allowed Doom to take it. With deliberate precision, Doom began tracing glowing markings along Albedo's forearm, the lines forming intricate patterns that pulsed faintly with energy.

"The markings I place upon you," Doom explained as he worked, "are tied directly to the spell I have cast. Their function is threefold."

Doom's hand moved steadily, the glowing markings weaving into the fabric of Albedo's suit and onto his skin beneath. "First," Doom said, his tone steady, "these markings will anchor you in space. The Maker, like many beings of his power, employs spacial manipulation to move his agents and hinder his enemies. With this spell, you are immune to such interference. No force, magical or technological, can displace you against your will."

Albedo frowned slightly, watching as the glowing lines wrapped around his wrist and climbed toward his elbow. "So no one can just teleport me into a trap or throw me into another dimension?"

"Precisely," Doom said. "It is a safeguard that ensures your autonomy—a necessity, given the nature of the mission ahead."

Doom paused briefly before continuing his work, his mask tilting slightly as he spoke. "The second function of this spell is far more practical. These markings will allow you to create a portal—one that leads directly back to Latveria."

Albedo's eyes widened slightly. "You're giving me a way to come back here? Even if I'm halfway across the world?"

"Indeed," Doom said, his voice calm but firm. "Your mission will take you far from Latveria's borders, but the need to regroup or retreat may arise. With these markings, you can open a portal to this castle at will. The connection is anchored to this room, ensuring that even in the face of chaos, you will have a safe haven."

Albedo nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the glowing patterns as they began to take shape on his other arm. "That's… actually useful. I'll give you that."

Doom's hands moved with precision as he began etching the final patterns. "The third and final function of this spell," he said, "is the ability to extend its power to others."

Albedo frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean, extend it?"

Doom glanced up briefly, his mask reflecting the dim light. "By choice, with a touch, you may mark others as I have marked you. Doing so will grant them the same protections and abilities—a connection to Latveria and immunity to spacial manipulation. However, it is your will that determines whether the marking is applied."

Albedo's gaze hardened as he considered the implications. "So, I can decide who gets this… and who doesn't."

"Precisely," Doom said, finishing the markings with a flourish. The glowing patterns settled into Albedo's arms, pulsing faintly before fading into his skin and suit. "It is a power you must use wisely. To mark someone is to tether them to this spell, and by extension, to me. Trust is not a requirement, but caution is."

Doom stepped back, inspecting his work with a critical eye as the last traces of the ritual's energy faded. The markings on Albedo's arms remained faintly visible, a constant reminder of the power now at his disposal.

Doom moved around the central table in the War Room, the holographic map glowing faintly as it displayed the location of the Maker's hidden prison. The desolate stretch of desert projected onto the table seemed impossibly barren, with faint indicators of an underground structure that even Doom's resources hadn't fully mapped.

Albedo stood across from him, his arms crossed as he studied the faint outlines of the facility. His sharp eyes scanned the hologram, his mind already working through potential scenarios.

"This prison," Doom began, his voice steady, "is one of the Maker's best-kept secrets. Hidden beneath the desert, far from any settlement or infrastructure, it was designed to be forgotten—along with the prisoners inside."

Albedo raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "And you don't have anything on who's locked up in there?"

Doom inclined his head slightly. "None. The Maker has ensured that even the existence of this facility is unknown to most. I only discovered its location through the faint ripples its creation left on the fabric of reality. Beyond that, I have no intelligence to offer on the prisoners, the guards, or the internal layout."

"So I'm going in blind," Albedo said, his jaw tightening.

"Yes," Doom replied, unbothered by Albedo's frustration. "But we are a two-person resistance, Albedo. We need numbers, and the Maker's prison contains individuals he could not erase. Whoever they are, we need them."

"And if some of them are worse than he is?" Albedo asked, his tone sharp.

Doom's mask glinted faintly in the glow of the hologram. "Then we deal with the consequences later. This mission is about survival. Without reinforcements, this resistance will end before it begins."

Doom tapped the map, causing it to zoom in on the faint outlines of the underground prison. "Your primary approach is stealth," he said. "The facility's isolation and secrecy mean that external reinforcements will take time to arrive, but you must avoid alerting the guards at all costs. This is a surprise attack, and the element of surprise must be maintained."

Albedo nodded. "Fine. I can use the suit's stealth mode to get in, take out guards quietly, and free the prisoners. What else?"

"You must also disable the facility's systems," Doom continued. "Your suit's EMP capabilities will be crucial for this. The Maker's technology relies heavily on automated defenses. A well-timed EMP will leave the guards vulnerable and give you access to any physical servers within the facility."

"And if I find anything useful on those servers?" Albedo asked.

"Download it and destroy the rest," Doom said simply. "Any intelligence on the Maker's operations is a boon to our efforts, but you cannot risk leaving evidence of your presence."

Albedo gestured toward the hologram. "And if I get caught?"

Doom's tone sharpened. "Then you must enact Plan B. If discovered, your first priority is to lock down the facility. Reinforcements from the Maker's forces will mean certain failure. You must isolate the prison and prevent any external communication."

Albedo frowned. "And how exactly do I do that?"

"The facility's automated defenses are centralized," Doom explained. "Once you gain access to their command systems, you can use them to lock down the base. Sealing doors, disabling external communication, and turning their own technology against them are your only options."

"And then?" Albedo pressed.

"You must free the prisoners, neutralize any remaining guards, and escape," Doom said firmly. "The longer you remain, the higher the risk of capture or death. This mission is about liberation, not prolonged conflict."

Albedo's expression darkened as he considered the risks. "What happens if there are superhumans in there? Some of them might not be on our side."

"Plan C," Doom said, his tone turning heavier. "If the prison houses superhumans, the choice of how to handle them falls to you. Some may prove to be invaluable allies. Others may be threats. You must decide, Albedo, who to release and who to leave behind."

"That's a hell of a call to make on the fly," Albedo muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

"Indeed," Doom replied. "But this is a surprise attack, and we will not have another opportunity. Trust your instincts, Albedo. The success of this mission—and the future of this resistance—depends on your judgment."

The hologram dimmed slightly as Doom stepped back, his imposing figure framed by the faint glow of the map. Albedo remained silent, his mind racing as he weighed the enormity of the task ahead. He was going in alone, armed with only a suit, a plan, and his own resolve.

Doom extended his hand, his fingers curling as he began to summon the energy needed to open the portal. The runes etched into the War Room glowed faintly, their light gathering and swirling into a central point. In seconds, the space before Doom shimmered and folded inward, creating a vortex of swirling green and black energy.

Albedo stood at the edge of the portal, his stance tense. He glanced at Doom, whose mask betrayed nothing as he gestured toward the portal.

"This will take you directly to the perimeter of the Maker's prison," Doom said. "The facility's defenses will not detect your arrival, but from the moment you step through, you are on your own. Proceed with caution."

"Yeah, I figured that," Albedo muttered. He stepped forward, pausing at the portal's edge. "And Doom? Don't forget your end of the deal. You're my ticket out of there."

Doom's voice remained steady. "You focus on the mission. I will ensure your extraction."

Without another word, Albedo stepped into the portal. The sensation was immediate—his body felt stretched and compressed all at once as he was pulled through the swirling energy. In an instant, the green vortex dissolved, and he found himself standing in the middle of a barren desert.

The air was dry and still, the vast expanse of sand stretching in every direction. The only indication of the facility's location was a faint distortion in the landscape ahead—an artificial shimmer that revealed the hidden entrance to the Maker's prison. Albedo activated his suit's stealth mode, the fabric rippling and shifting to match the desert's muted tones.

"Alright," Albedo muttered to himself, his voice low. "Time to get to work."

He moved quickly but cautiously toward the shimmer, careful to avoid disturbing the sand too much. As he approached, the shimmer resolved into a disguised hatch, barely visible under the desert sun. A pair of guards stood at attention near the entrance, their weapons held loosely but ready.

Albedo paused, activating his suit's sensor array to assess the situation. The guards' patrol patterns were simple, and a quick scan revealed a blind spot near the hatch. Timing his movements perfectly, Albedo slipped past them, phasing through the security gate as the suit's cloaking field adjusted to the surrounding environment.

Once inside, Albedo crouched low, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior. The hallway was stark and utilitarian, lined with harsh lights and faintly humming machinery. He moved quickly, relying on his suit's silence and invisibility to navigate the corridors undetected.

The Maker's prison was a labyrinth of steel and shadows, its corridors a cold testament to his obsessive need for control. The hum of energy fields and automated security filled the air, broken only by the occasional murmur of patrolling guards. Albedo adjusted his suit's camouflage settings, the material rippling to mimic the walls as he moved silently through the sterile hallways.

Every step felt like a test, every breath a gamble. The tension in the air was palpable, each corner he turned carrying the potential for disaster. Get in, get the intel, and get out, he reminded himself. But the longer he navigated the maze-like facility, the more apparent it became that nothing here would go according to plan.

As Albedo crept down a dimly lit corridor, the distant sound of boots echoed in the stillness. He froze, pressing himself flat against the wall as his suit adjusted to the metallic surface. Two guards rounded the corner, their rifles held at the ready as they scanned the area.

"Anything unusual on the feeds?" one guard asked, his voice low but gruff.

"Nothing yet," the other replied. "But command's on edge. They've ordered extra patrols."

Albedo held his breath as the guards passed within inches of him, the faint glow of their flashlights brushing against his camouflaged form. One of them stopped suddenly, his head turning toward Albedo's position.

"You hear that?" the guard asked, his grip tightening on his weapon.

"Hear what?" the other replied, pausing to look around.

Albedo's heart pounded in his chest as the guard's gaze swept the hallway. His mind raced, readying his options. A quick EMP? No, too loud. Knock them out? Risky.

"Nothing," the guard finally muttered, shaking his head. "Probably just the machinery."

The two resumed their patrol, their footsteps fading into the distance. Albedo exhaled slowly, his muscles relaxing as he slipped around the corner and continued toward the Warden's office.

Further down the corridor, Albedo spotted a glowing red light sweeping rhythmically across the hallway ahead. A mounted turret, its sleek frame bristling with sensors and weapons, scanned the area for any unauthorized movement.

Albedo crouched low, his suit's interface mapping out the turret's detection radius. He studied the pattern for a few seconds before moving, his movements precise and deliberate. Each step brought him closer to the turret's blind spot, the faint whirring of its servos growing louder with every second.

Halfway through, a faint beep emitted from the turret as its sensors briefly focused in his direction. Albedo froze, his body pressed against the wall as the turret's scanning beam passed inches above his head. He could feel the heat radiating from its weapons, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

The moment the beam moved away, Albedo darted forward, diving into cover just as the turret's rotation brought it back. He smirked faintly, his adrenaline surging. "Close, but not close enough."

With a flick of his wrist, Albedo activated a small EMP device, sending a pulse that short-circuited the turret. Sparks flew as the machine slumped lifelessly against the wall, its sensors dark.

The narrow hallways grew quieter as Albedo approached a side access point. He crouched beside a ventilation shaft, prying open the hatch and slipping inside. The metallic walls of the vent were cold against his hands and knees as he crawled forward, the faint echoes of his movements bouncing through the narrow space.

The sound of voices reached him as he neared an opening. Peering through the grate, he saw a monitoring room below. Two guards sat at a terminal, their eyes fixed on the screens displaying the facility's surveillance feeds.

"Did you see that blip earlier?" one of them asked, pointing at a paused frame.

"Probably a glitch," the other said dismissively. "This system's old. Happens all the time."

Albedo watched as they replayed a section of footage, the image showing a faint shimmer in one of the hallways he'd passed through earlier. His camouflage had been good, but not perfect. He made a mental note to adjust the settings as he crawled further into the vents.

As Albedo exited the ventilation shaft into another corridor, his boots barely touched the floor before a low growl reached his ears. He froze, his senses immediately on high alert.

"I'm tellin' ya, something's off," Wolverine's voice echoed from around the corner. "I can smell it."

Albedo pressed himself against the wall, his suit blending into the metallic surface. His pulse quickened as Wolverine's footsteps grew louder, the faint scrape of his claws against the floor sending chills down Albedo's spine.

Storm's calm voice followed. "Logan, we've been through this. If there were an intruder, the alarms would have gone off."

Wolverine didn't respond immediately. Instead, he sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring as his sharp eyes scanned the hallway. Albedo remained perfectly still, his body tense as the mutant's gaze passed dangerously close to him.

"You smell that?" Wolverine asked, his claws extending with a metallic snikt.

"No, Logan," Storm replied, her tone patient but firm. "You're imagining things."

"I don't imagine things," Wolverine growled, his claws retracting reluctantly. "But fine. Let's move."

As the two mutants walked away, Albedo let out a slow breath, his body finally relaxing. Too close, he thought, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. If I stay here any longer, they're going to find me.

After several more tense minutes of navigating the labyrinthine facility, Albedo finally arrived at the Warden's office. The reinforced door loomed in front of him, its surface etched with faint, glowing patterns. He pulled out the clearance badge he'd taken earlier, swiping it against the scanner.

The door hissed open, revealing the dark interior beyond. Albedo stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of traps or surprises. The mission wasn't over yet, but he'd made it this far.

The faint glow of his suit's interface reflected in Albedo's eyes as he began assessing the Warden's office. The mission had only just begun, but the stakes were already mounting. One wrong move could mean failure—or worse.

The Warden's office was dimly lit, the soft hum of security systems blending into the stillness of the room. Albedo stepped inside cautiously, the faint glow of his suit's sensors illuminating the sleek, metallic interior. A desk dominated the center of the room, cluttered with files, datapads, and a terminal. Metal filing cabinets lined the walls, each locked but old enough to suggest that the information they contained was critical.

Albedo deactivated his stealth mode with a soft shimmer and approached the desk, scanning the room with sharp, calculating eyes. "Let's see what you're hiding," he muttered under his breath.

The first thing that caught Albedo's attention was a stack of physical files on the desk, their edges worn from frequent handling. He picked up the top folder, flipping it open to reveal detailed records of the prisoners held within the facility. The photos and information painted a grim picture, each page more unsettling than the last.

• Scarlet Witch (Wanda Maximoff):

Wanda's photo showed her restrained and unconscious, her usually vibrant eyes shut in what appeared to be an enforced sleep. The notes indicated she was in a forced drug-induced coma, her powers deemed too dangerous to control.

"They've turned her into a prisoner in her own mind," Albedo thought, his expression tightening.

• Polaris (Lorna Dane):

Polaris's file included detailed schematics of the power dampeners used to suppress her magnetic abilities. The notes described her as volatile and a potential leader for resistance efforts.

"Another mutant, silenced and caged," Albedo muttered.

• Donald Blake:

Albedo frowned as he opened Donald Blake's file, only to find that most of the information had been redacted. The blacked-out text gave no clues to Blake's identity or why he was being held.

"What's so special about you that they can't even keep records?"

• Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff):

Natasha's file detailed a fabricated story of treason against SHIELD, complete with forged evidence and witness testimonies. The Maker had framed her as a traitor to justify her imprisonment, erasing one of the world's best spies from public memory.

"Even the best aren't safe from him," Albedo thought grimly.

• Scarlet Spider II (Kaine Reilly):

Kaine's photo was accompanied by a note indicating his death had been faked during the Civil War. His file described him as a dangerous rogue who refused to register, making him a perfect candidate for erasure.

"Faked his death and locked him away. The Maker really doesn't leave loose ends," Albedo mused.

Each file painted a picture of manipulation and control, a deliberate erasure of those the Maker deemed too dangerous or inconvenient to his plans. Albedo's grip on the files tightened as he read, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

As Albedo sifted through the documents, his eyes landed on a badge lying next to a datapad. The sleek design was marked with a holographic label: Clearance Level: Alpha.

He picked it up, inspecting the badge carefully. "This should make things easier," he muttered, slipping it into a secure compartment on his suit. With the Warden's clearance, he would have access to parts of the facility that would otherwise remain sealed.

Turning to the datapad, Albedo activated his suit's interface, bypassing the device's security with ease. The screen flickered to life, displaying a series of files. One immediately caught his attention: Project SMASH: Overview and Progress Reports.

The file detailed a classified SHIELD operation overseen by Theodore Ross and the Maker. Its goal was chillingly clear: to create a team of gamma-enhanced super soldiers—a squad of Hulks.

Albedo scrolled through the reports, his expression darkening. The project aimed to refine the super soldier serum with gamma alterations, granting subjects Hulk-like transformations while maintaining control.

Test results painted a grim picture: most subjects had died or failed to achieve stable transformations, but Ross and the Maker were determined to perfect the process. The notes hinted at plans to use prisoners as unwilling test subjects for future trials.

"Ross and his Hulks," Albedo muttered, shaking his head. "As if one wasn't bad enough."

The implications were staggering. A squad of gamma-powered soldiers loyal to SHIELD would cement the Maker's control over any opposition, rendering resistance nearly impossible.

Albedo set the datapad down, his mind racing as he processed the information. Between the prisoner files and the ominous details of Project SMASH, the weight of the mission grew heavier. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to move forward, knowing that every second counted.

Albedo crept through the dimly lit corridors of the Maker's hidden prison, his suit's stealth mode shimmering faintly before blending seamlessly with the metallic walls. The faint hum of machinery and the rhythmic footsteps of patrolling guards were the only sounds in the oppressive stillness. Each step he took was calculated, his breathing slow and controlled to avoid detection.

The prison was a cold, sterile labyrinth, its walls lined with harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed faintly. Surveillance cameras dotted the corners, their lenses scanning the halls methodically. Albedo's suit scrambled their feeds as he moved, but he knew the margin for error was razor-thin.

This place is a fortress, he thought, his eyes darting toward the faint glow of a camera in the distance. If I make one mistake, I'll have the entire facility on my head.

Albedo rounded a corner and found himself in a narrow hallway. A pair of guards stood at the far end, their rifles slung casually over their shoulders as they chatted in low voices. The faint glow of a motion detector shimmered in the air between them, casting an ominous light on the corridor.

Great. Motion detectors, Albedo thought, crouching low. He adjusted his suit's camouflage settings, his form blurring slightly to mimic the environment. Carefully, he pressed himself against the wall and inched forward, his movements slow and deliberate.

The guards continued their conversation, oblivious to Albedo's presence. He timed his steps with the rhythm of their voices, moving only when they spoke to mask the faint sound of his boots on the floor.

One guard shifted, his gaze sweeping the hallway. Albedo froze, his body stiffening as the man's eyes lingered on the exact spot where he crouched. For a moment, the guard frowned, his hand drifting toward his weapon.

"Something wrong?" the second guard asked, glancing over.

The first guard shook his head, lowering his hand. "Nah. Must be nothing."

Albedo exhaled softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he slipped past the motion detector and rounded the next corner.

Further down the corridor, Albedo spotted a small access hatch leading to the facility's ventilation system. He crouched beside it, his suit's interface scanning for traps or alarms. The system beeped softly, indicating the path was clear.

Albedo pried the hatch open and climbed inside, the metallic walls of the vent cold against his hands and knees. The confined space forced him to crawl, each movement sending faint echoes through the narrow shaft.

As he moved deeper into the vent, faint voices reached his ears. He peered through a small grate and spotted two guards in a monitoring room below. They were reviewing security footage, one of them muttering about anomalies in the feeds.

"Do you think it's another glitch?" one guard asked, tapping on the screen.

"Could be," the other replied. "But if it's not, command is going to want answers."

Albedo tensed, his suit's interface alerting him to a nearby sensor. Carefully, he adjusted his movements, staying just out of the detection range as he continued crawling through the vent. The guards' voices faded as he put more distance between himself and the room.

As Albedo exited the vent into another corridor, he heard a familiar voice nearby. His blood ran cold as Wolverine's low growl echoed down the hallway.

"I'm tellin' ya, something's here," Wolverine muttered, his tone frustrated. "I can smell it."

Albedo pressed himself against the wall, his suit shifting to match the metallic surface. He held his breath as Wolverine stalked down the corridor, his claws extended and his nostrils flaring.

Storm's voice followed, calm but firm. "Logan, this facility is airtight. If there was something—or someone—here, the alarms would've gone off."

"Yeah, well, maybe the alarms missed it," Wolverine replied, his tone sharp. He sniffed the air again, his gaze sweeping the hallway.

Albedo stayed perfectly still, his heart hammering in his chest. Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't even think, he told himself, watching as Wolverine's sharp eyes scanned the area.

After a long, tense moment, Storm placed a hand on Wolverine's shoulder. "Let it go. We have a job to do."

Wolverine grumbled but turned away, his claws retracting with a metallic snikt. The two mutants walked off, their footsteps fading into the distance.

Albedo let out a slow, shaky breath. That was too close.

The air grew colder as Albedo approached the prison block. The walls here were lined with reinforced glass, each cell glowing faintly with the light of energy dampeners. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional hum of the containment fields.

Albedo moved cautiously, his eyes scanning for additional patrols or automated defenses. The corridor seemed clear, but the weight of the prisoners behind those walls was palpable.

Finally, he reached the end of the hallway and found himself standing before the Warden's office. The reinforced door loomed in front of him, its surface marked with faint engravings that glowed faintly under the light.

This is it, Albedo thought, reaching for the Warden's clearance badge clipped to his suit. The scanner beeped softly as he held the badge up, and the door hissed open.

After weaving through several more hallways and slipping past additional patrols, Albedo finally arrived at the heart of the facility—the prisoner cells. The large, reinforced door slid open with the Warden's badge, revealing a grim scene inside.

The room was massive, lined with rows of glass-enclosed cells. Most of the prisoners were restrained or unconscious, their bodies slumped in chairs or suspended in containment units. A faint hum filled the air as the power dampeners kept each cell secure.

Albedo stepped inside, his sensors scanning the room. The names from the files flashed through his mind as he moved from cell to cell.

• Scarlet Witch was slumped in her restraints, her breathing shallow. The drugs coursing through her system kept her locked in a dreamless coma.

• Natasha Romanoff was bound in a chair, her head tilted forward as though she were asleep. Her vitals were stable, but she didn't stir as Albedo approached.

• Donald Blake's cell was dark, with only the faint outline of a figure visible behind the glass. His file had been redacted, and the ominous energy surrounding him made Albedo wary.

• Kaine Reilly's containment pod was slightly cracked, a faint webbing of fractures visible in the glass. His breathing was uneven, but he remained unconscious.

The only prisoner who seemed fully aware was Polaris, her green eyes locking onto Albedo the moment he approached her cell. She was restrained, her powers dampened, but her expression was sharp and alert.

Albedo activated the portal spell Doom had placed on him, opening a shimmering vortex in the center of the room. He moved quickly, deactivating the cells one by one and transporting the prisoners through the portal to Latveria.

Scarlet Witch was the first to go, her body lifting limply as Albedo guided her through. Natasha followed, her unconscious form disappearing into the vortex. Albedo hesitated briefly at Donald Blake's cell, a faint unease prickling at the back of his mind, but he released him anyway. Kaine Reilly was the last, his containment pod cracking open as the portal drew him in.

When Albedo turned to Polaris, she was already struggling against her restraints, her determination evident despite her weakened state.

"Hold still," Albedo muttered, stepping toward her control panel. He deactivated the dampeners and restraints, and Polaris staggered forward, catching herself on the edge of the console.

"Wait," she said, her voice hoarse but urgent. "There's… there's someone else. A prisoner. Not on the files."

Albedo frowned, his hand hesitating over the portal's control. "Who? Where?"

Polaris opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of heavy boots approaching cut her off.

"Gotcha!" Wolverine snarled, appearing in the doorway with his claws already extended.

Albedo spun toward him, his suit flaring as it adjusted to combat mode. Behind Wolverine, Storm entered the room, her eyes glowing faintly with electricity as she raised her hands.

"Stand down, whoever you are," Storm commanded, her voice calm but firm. "You're not leaving this facility."

Albedo stepped in front of Polaris, his stance ready. "Yeah, I don't think so."

The tension in the room reached a breaking point as Albedo squared off against Wolverine and Storm, his mind racing as he prepared for the inevitable fight. Polaris staggered back, clutching the edge of the console, her warning left unsaid.

Wolverine lunged forward, claws gleaming as they slashed through the air. Albedo darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack as he activated his suit's camouflage, vanishing from sight.

"Coward!" Wolverine snarled, sniffing the air to track him.

Storm raised her arms, her eyes glowing with power as the air around her began to hum. A sudden gust of wind filled the room, scattering loose debris and forcing Albedo to anchor himself to the floor.

"You can't hide forever," she said, her tone calm but cold. "Surrender now."

Albedo reappeared behind Wolverine, using the Warden's badge to access a console near Polaris's containment unit. Wolverine turned sharply, his claws slicing through the console just as Albedo yanked a key wire free. Sparks flew, and the dampener controlling Polaris's powers began to flicker.

"Almost there," Albedo muttered under his breath, pulling a small EMP device from his suit. He threw it toward the dampener, and a burst of electromagnetic energy shattered the remaining restraints.

Polaris gasped as the faint green glow of her magnetism flickered back to life. She stumbled forward, catching herself on the edge of her cell.

"Go!" Albedo shouted.

The air inside the prison crackled with tension as Polaris staggered to her feet, her magnetic powers flickering faintly after Albedo's EMP had shattered the power dampener. She steadied herself against the edge of her cell, green eyes locking onto Wolverine, who was advancing toward her with claws extended and a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Across the room, Storm's glowing eyes fixed on Albedo. Her white hair seemed to float as static electricity charged the air around her, the winds beginning to howl within the confined space.

"Stand down, whoever you are," Storm commanded. "This is your last warning."

Albedo glanced between Polaris and Wolverine before transforming into his Echo Echo form, splitting into a dozen duplicates that spread out across the room. "Sorry, but I'm not exactly a fan of surrendering."

The fight erupted in an instant.

Wolverine launched himself toward Polaris, his claws gleaming under the flickering lights. His movements were feral yet calculated, each swipe aimed to disable rather than kill.

Polaris raised a hand, sending a magnetic wave to intercept him. The force knocked Wolverine off course, slamming him into the side of a metal cabinet. He groaned but pushed himself back up almost immediately, his claws slicing through the air.

"Logan," Polaris hissed, her voice laced with pain and anger, "I don't want to fight you, but I will if I have to!"

"Then stop talkin' and start tryin'," Wolverine snarled, lunging again.

This time, Polaris drew on the metal around her. Pieces of debris lifted into the air, spinning in a controlled orbit before flying toward Wolverine like a storm of shrapnel. He slashed through the first wave but was forced to retreat as the second barrage overwhelmed him.

Polaris's powers surged, growing stronger as she regained her footing. She raised both hands, tearing a nearby metal table into jagged pieces and hurling them at Wolverine with pinpoint precision.

Wolverine ducked under the first piece, sliced through the second, and leaped over the third. He landed in front of Polaris with a feral grin. "You've got tricks, but I've got instincts."

He swung his claws toward her, but Polaris managed to twist the metal of his arm bracers, locking his hands mid-swing. Wolverine growled in frustration, trying to free himself, but Polaris used the opening to throw him backward with a magnetic pulse.

Wolverine crashed into the wall, sliding to the floor with a pained grunt. "Alright, Dane," he growled, "no more holdin' back."

While Polaris and Wolverine clashed, Albedo's Echo Echo duplicates surrounded Storm, their movements coordinated as they began emitting sonic waves. The air vibrated with their combined force, making it hard for Storm to focus.

But she wasn't about to back down. Raising her arms, she summoned a powerful gust of wind that swept through the room, scattering the duplicates like leaves in a storm.

"Your little trick won't work on me," Storm said, her voice carrying over the roar of the wind.

Albedo reformed himself, narrowing his eyes as he quickly analyzed her movements. "Guess I'll have to up my game."

With a flash of light, he transformed into Chromastone. His crystalline body gleamed as he absorbed the electricity crackling around Storm. She hurled a bolt of lightning directly at him, but the energy surged harmlessly into his body, causing his glow to intensify.

"Bad move," Albedo said, firing a concentrated energy beam from his chest.

Storm leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blast, but the beam struck the wall behind her, leaving a smoldering crater. She retaliated by summoning a cyclone, the powerful winds forcing Albedo to anchor himself to the floor with his crystalline feet.

"Let's see how you handle this," Storm said, her voice calm yet commanding.

She raised her hands, and the cyclone intensified, pulling debris into its spiraling winds. Albedo gritted his teeth, holding his ground as shards of metal and glass scraped against his crystalline form.

"Not bad," Albedo muttered, his body glowing brighter as he absorbed more of the ambient electricity. "But not enough."

With a burst of energy, Albedo fired another beam, this time slicing through the cyclone. The winds dissipated, and Storm was forced to backpedal, her expression shifting from confidence to frustration.

Meanwhile, Polaris continued to press her advantage against Wolverine. She manipulated the magnetic field around him, pinning his claws to the floor. Wolverine growled, his muscles straining as he tried to break free.

"Logan, stop!" Polaris shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. "You're fighting the wrong people!"

"You think I care?" Wolverine snapped, finally breaking free with a surge of brute strength. "All I see is a threat that needs takin' out."

Before he could charge again, Polaris focused her powers, yanking Wolverine's claws upward and slamming him into the ceiling. He fell back to the floor with a heavy thud, dazed but not out.

"Stay down, Logan," Polaris said, breathing heavily. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."

Storm summoned another bolt of lightning, this one more powerful than the last. Albedo braced himself, his body glowing brighter as he absorbed the attack. With a smirk, he unleashed the stored energy in a massive burst, overwhelming Storm's defenses and sending her crashing to the ground.

She groaned, trying to rise, but Albedo loomed over her, his crystalline form casting a faint glow in the dim room. "You're out of tricks," he said, his tone firm.

Storm's eyes flickered as she attempted to summon another gust of wind, but Albedo fired a final energy blast, knocking her unconscious.

The room fell silent except for the sound of Polaris's heavy breathing. She glanced at Albedo, who reverted to his normal form and stepped toward her.

"Nice work," Albedo said, offering a hand.

Polaris ignored the gesture, her focus shifting to the hallway beyond the shattered cell. "There's no time to celebrate. There's someone else in this prison—a secret prisoner the Maker doesn't want anyone to know about. He's a friend of mine that they keep separated. Can you free him?"

Albedo frowned. "Who is it, and where can I find him?"

Polaris shook her head. "I don't know. But if they're here, they're important. We need to find them."

With the fight over, Albedo deactivated his transformation, returning to his normal form. He turned to Polaris, who was breathing heavily but still standing strong.

"There's someone else," Polaris said, her voice urgent. "Further into the prison. Not on the files. They didn't want anyone to know he was here."

Albedo frowned. "Who? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know his name," Polaris admitted. "But he's powerful. The Maker's terrified of him. That's why he's buried deeper in this facility."

Albedo's mind raced as he processed the information. The prisoners he'd freed so far were dangerous enough—whoever this secret prisoner was, they must be something else entirely.

"You need to go," Albedo said, gesturing toward the portal still shimmering in the center of the room.

Polaris hesitated, glancing at the unconscious bodies of Wolverine and Storm before stepping through the vortex. "Be careful."

The portal shimmered and closed as Polaris disappeared. Albedo turned toward the door leading further into the facility, his suit recalibrating for the inevitable battle ahead.

The facility grew eerily quiet as Albedo prepared for what lay ahead. He activated his suit's sensors, scanning for incoming guards and robots as he steeled himself for the next phase of the mission.

The alarm klaxons blared across the facility, their shrill wail echoing through the halls as Albedo advanced deeper into the prison. His transformation into Swampfire was immediate, the rich, earthy scent of his plant-like form filling the air as his vines and flames surged with energy.

The further he moved into the heart of the prison, the more resistance he encountered. Guards poured into the corridors, armed with heavy rifles and energy weapons. Drones hovered overhead, their mechanical voices calling out directives to the reinforcements.

The first squad of elite guards moved with precision, their tactical armor glinting under the dim lights. They formed a firing line, unleashing a barrage of energy blasts toward Albedo.

He raised a thick arm of gnarled wood, flames igniting along its surface to create a fiery shield. The blasts struck the flames and dissipated, their energy absorbed into the fiery barrier. With a guttural growl, Albedo extended his other arm, shooting a volley of explosive seed pods that struck the guards with concussive force.

The explosion sent the guards flying, their formation breaking apart as Albedo charged forward. His vines lashed out, grabbing weapons from their hands and slamming them into walls with bone-crunching force.

Turning a corner, Albedo was met with a squad of combat robots. These machines were larger than the patrol drones, their bulky frames equipped with integrated weaponry. Their arms morphed into cannons, unleashing a hail of projectiles that forced Albedo to dive for cover.

The robots advanced, their footsteps shaking the floor as their cannons recharged. Albedo crouched behind a fallen metal panel, his glowing yellow eyes scanning for an opening.

"Let's see how you handle this," he muttered.

He extended a vine from his arm, wrapping it around one of the robots and yanking it forward. The machine stumbled, its cannon firing wildly and striking one of its own allies. Albedo took the opening, igniting a wave of flames along his body and charging into the group.

The fire melted through their armor, exposing their delicate internal circuits. Albedo's vines struck with precision, ripping out key components and reducing the machines to sparking heaps of scrap.

As Albedo advanced, the facility's defenses escalated. A massive door slid open ahead of him, revealing a room filled with heavy artillery emplacements. Automated turrets swiveled toward him, their barrels glowing as they prepared to fire.

"Of course they have turrets," Albedo said, rolling his eyes.

The first volley of plasma rounds forced him to dive to the side, his body twisting as he rolled into cover. The walls around him were pockmarked with scorched holes, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning metal.

Albedo extended a vine from his arm, wrapping it around the base of one turret and yanking it downward. The machine sputtered as its barrel struck the floor, firing harmlessly into the ground before shorting out.

He moved quickly, using his flames to shield himself as he closed the distance. With a powerful swing of his arm, he smashed through one of the turrets, its metal frame crumpling under the force.

The remaining defenses fired relentlessly, but Albedo's regenerative abilities allowed him to weather the onslaught. He launched another volley of seed pods, their explosions taking out the last of the artillery.

The facility's defenders began to thin as Albedo pushed deeper, his path littered with the remains of shattered robots and unconscious guards. The resistance was fierce, but his combination of strength, firepower, and regenerative abilities made him an unstoppable force.

Finally, he reached a heavy, reinforced door at the end of a long corridor. Its surface was engraved with a strange insignia, one Albedo didn't recognize. The air around it hummed faintly with energy, and a complex locking mechanism glowed faintly in the dim light.

"This has to be it," Albedo muttered, his chest heaving as he prepared for whatever lay beyond.

Albedo stood before the door, his flames flickering faintly as he assessed the final barrier between him and the secret prisoner. The journey had been grueling, but he wasn't about to stop now.

The reinforced door groaned as Albedo pried it open with Swampfire's strength, flames flickering faintly around his hands. The interior was dim, the faint hum of energy from containment systems filling the air. The prisoner was restrained in a large chair, bound by thick metal cuffs and an array of glowing energy fields that pulsed with a quiet menace.

Albedo stepped inside cautiously, his sharp eyes scanning the restraints and the figure held in place. The man's head was bowed, his face obscured by a heavy mask that covered his mouth and nose. He didn't stir as Albedo approached, his body seemingly limp in the oppressive restraints.

"Alright," Albedo muttered, his voice low as he shifted back into his human form for better precision. "Let's get you out of this."

Albedo started with the energy fields, his suit's interface quickly interfacing with the containment system. Sparks flew as he disabled the first set of restraints, the glowing bands flickering out one by one.

The man's breathing grew more audible as the restraints loosened, but he remained silent. Albedo tried to get a look at his face, but the mask and the dim light made it impossible to make out any details.

"Hey," Albedo said, his tone softer. "I'm not here to hurt you. I don't know who you are, but I know you don't belong here. Just hold still, and I'll get you out of this mess."

The prisoner shifted slightly, his body tensing as the final restraints began to fall away. Albedo noted the man's impressive size and build—he was clearly no ordinary prisoner.

"Whoever you are," Albedo continued, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the area was still clear, "you're free now. Just stay calm and—"

A thunderous crash interrupted him as the wall to the left of the room exploded inward. Albedo barely had time to react as a massive, red-skinned figure stormed through the debris, his eyes glowing with fury.

"Ross," Albedo growled, recognizing the Red Hulk immediately.

Ross didn't give him a chance to say more. With a growl of pure rage, he grabbed Albedo by the waist, hoisting him off the ground with ease. Before Albedo could react, Ross hurled him across the room, his body slamming into the far wall with a sickening crunch.

The impact left Albedo momentarily dazed, but he forced himself to his feet, glaring at the towering figure in front of him.

"Well, well," Ross said, his voice dripping with condescension as he stepped closer. "I was hoping I'd get to deal with you personally, kid. Guess Christmas came early."

Albedo clenched his fists, his body shimmering as he transformed into Four Arms. "I don't have time for this, Ross. Back off."

Ross smirked, the heat radiating from his body intensifying. "Back off? That's not how this works, brat. You came into my house, started messing with my stuff, and now you think you get to walk out? Not a chance."

Ross charged forward, his massive fists swinging with devastating force. Albedo met him head-on, Four Arms' enhanced strength allowing him to block the first blow and counter with a punch of his own. The impact sent a shockwave through the room, but Ross barely flinched.

"You hit like a lightweight," Ross taunted, his grin widening as he swung again.

Albedo ducked under the blow and drove a fist into Ross's ribs, the force sending the Red Hulk stumbling back a few steps.

"Yeah?" Albedo retorted. "You're a little slower than I expected, old man."

Ross's grin vanished, replaced by a snarl. "Let's see how cocky you are when I turn up the heat."

The temperature in the room began to climb rapidly as Ross's body radiated intense heat. Albedo grimaced, his skin blistering slightly even in Four Arms' durable form.

Ross lunged again, his fists moving with surprising speed as he forced Albedo onto the defensive. Every swing came closer to landing, and the oppressive heat began to sap Albedo's energy.

Albedo staggered backward, his breathing heavy as he tried to regroup. Ross advanced, his fists glowing faintly from the heat building in his body.

"You're outmatched, kid," Ross growled. "Should've stayed in whatever hole you crawled out of."

Ross moved in quickly and unleashed a flurry of blows that Albedo was unprepared for. Albedo found himself pummeled, and then grabbed. Unable to reverse it he was launched back into the cell with the prisoner.

The walls of the secret cell shuddered as the Red Hulk—Theodore Ross—stepped through the shattered debris, his massive figure framed by dust and flickering sparks from exposed wires. His fiery red skin radiated a sweltering heat that warped the air around him, and his eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction as he looked at Albedo and the newly freed prisoner. However as the prisoner took off his restraints his identity caught the attention of Ross.

"Jones," Ross growled, cracking his knuckles. "I was wondering how long it'd take someone to come sniffing around. Guess I've got two brats to put down now."

Rick, still catching his breath after transforming into A-Bomb for the first time in years, clenched his blue fists in rage. "Ross," he spat, his voice trembling with barely contained hate. "You turned me into this. You ruined my life!"

Ross smirked, his heat intensifying. "I gave you power, boy. Made you something better. Too bad you weren't strong enough to appreciate it."

Before Rick could respond, Ross lunged forward with surprising speed, his massive fist aimed at Albedo. Albedo leaped aside, transforming into Four Arms mid-air and landing with a thunderous crash. He barely had time to brace before Ross turned on him, his heat forcing Albedo to take a defensive stance.

"Let's see what you've got," Ross snarled, charging.

Albedo intercepted Ross's charge with a powerful punch, their fists colliding with a shockwave that rattled the room. The sheer force of the impact sent Albedo sliding backward, his four arms straining against Ross's brute strength.

"Not bad, kid," Ross said, his grin widening as he swung a fiery fist. "But you're outta your league."

Albedo ducked under the blow and retaliated with a flurry of punches, his extra arms giving him an edge in speed and precision. Each hit connected, driving Ross back a step, but the Red Hulk barely flinched. Instead, he roared, slamming both fists into the ground and sending a wave of heat and force that knocked Albedo off balance.

Before Ross could capitalize, A-Bomb charged in from the side, tackling the Red Hulk with enough force to send both of them crashing into the wall. The impact shook the entire facility, and Ross snarled in irritation as he shoved A-Bomb off him.

"Finally joining the fight, Jones?" Ross taunted, wiping debris off his shoulder. "Guess I'll have to remind you who's in charge."

A-Bomb roared, his crystalline fists glowing faintly as he swung at Ross. The two titans collided, trading devastating blows that echoed through the chamber like thunder. Rick's strength matched Ross's, but the heat radiating from the Red Hulk began to take its toll, melting parts of Rick's crystalline armor.

"You're just another failed experiment," Ross sneered, grabbing A-Bomb by the arm and hurling him across the room. "You were never strong enough to handle the power I gave you."

Rick hit the ground hard, the impact leaving a crater in the floor. He groaned but pushed himself up, his glowing eyes locking onto Ross with renewed determination. "You're wrong," he growled. "I'm stronger than you think."

He charged again, this time using his bulk to pin Ross against the wall. Albedo seized the opportunity, leaping onto Ross's back and wrapping all four arms around his neck in a powerful hold.

Ross roared, his body flaring with intense heat that forced Albedo to release his grip. He stumbled backward, his skin blistering even in his Four Arms form. A-Bomb tried to follow up with another charge, but Ross swung a fiery fist, catching Rick in the side and sending him sprawling.

"Is that all you've got?" Ross laughed, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I expected more from you two."

Albedo gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand despite the searing heat. "We're just getting started," he said, his voice strained. He transformed into Swampfire, his plant-like body resistant to the heat as flames ignited along his arms.

With a roar, Albedo hurled a wave of fire at Ross, forcing the Red Hulk to shield himself. A-Bomb joined in, ripping a chunk of metal from the wall and throwing it with all his strength. The combined attack staggered Ross, but he quickly recovered, his anger fueling his power.

Ross charged at A-Bomb, grappling with him in a contest of strength. The heat pouring off Ross's body began to melt the floor beneath them, but Rick refused to back down. "You're not stronger than me," Rick growled, digging his feet into the ground. "Not anymore!"

Albedo saw his chance. He transformed into Echo Echo, his duplicates spreading out and positioning themselves around Ross. "Let's see how you handle this," the echoes said in unison.

The duplicates began emitting high-frequency sonic waves, their combined attack overwhelming Ross's senses. The Red Hulk roared in pain, clutching his ears as he stumbled backward. A-Bomb capitalized, delivering a devastating uppercut that sent Ross crashing to the ground.

But Ross wasn't finished. With a primal roar, he slammed his fists into the ground, creating a shockwave that shattered Albedo's duplicates and sent A-Bomb flying. The heat in the room became unbearable, and the air shimmered with raw energy as Ross stood tall, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You think you can beat me?" Ross bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I'm the Hulk! The strongest there is!"

Albedo, reforming from his Echo Echo state, glanced at A-Bomb, who was struggling to his feet. "Rick," he said, his tone firm. "We need to finish this. Together."

Rick nodded, his crystalline fists clenching. "Let's end this."

Albedo transformed into Chromastone, his body glowing as he absorbed the energy radiating from Ross. A-Bomb charged again, grappling with the Red Hulk and holding him in place as Albedo fired a concentrated beam of light. The energy struck Ross square in the chest, blasting him backward and slamming him into the wall.

The Red Hulk groaned, his body steaming as he slumped to the ground. A-Bomb stepped forward, standing over Ross with a mixture of triumph and exhaustion.

"It's over," Rick said, his voice steady.

Ross glared up at them, his strength waning. "You think this changes anything?" he spat. "The Maker will crush you."

Before Albedo or A-Bomb could celebrate their victory, the room was bathed in an eerie blue light. A portal opened in the center of the room, and out stepped the Maker, flanked by the Avengers.

The lineup was as imposing as it was strange: Blue Marvel, Captain Marvel, Thor, Hyperion, and Spider-Man stood at the ready, their expressions grim. The Maker's elongated helmet gleamed as his cold, calculating voice filled the space.

"You've caused quite the mess," the Maker said, his tone devoid of emotion. "But it ends here. Surrender now, and I might consider showing mercy."

Blue Marvel's eyes locked onto Albedo, his energy flaring. "We don't give second chances."

Albedo glanced at A-Bomb, who was breathing heavily from the fight. "We're not sticking around for this," he muttered.

"Damn right we're not," A-Bomb growled, glaring at the Maker.

Albedo activated the rune on his arm, summoning the portal to Latveria. As the swirling green vortex opened, Blue Marvel lunged forward, a blast of energy surging toward them.

"Move!" Albedo shouted, grabbing A-Bomb by the arm and pulling him into the portal. The two barely dodged the incoming attack, the heat from Blue Marvel's blast singeing the edge of Albedo's suit.

The portal closed just as Blue Marvel's fist nearly made contact, leaving the Avengers and the Maker behind in the facility.

The world shifted as Albedo and A-Bomb stumbled into Doom's War Room. The prisoners Albedo had rescued were gathered there, some unconscious, others slowly regaining their senses. Polaris stood nearby, her expression a mix of relief and worry.

Doom stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. His gaze moved from Albedo to A-Bomb, taking in the blue giant with a calculating look.

"Success," Doom said simply, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Well done."

Albedo straightened, his breathing still heavy from the battle. "It wasn't clean, and it definitely wasn't easy. But we made it."

A-Bomb looked around, his glowing eyes narrowing as he addressed Doom. "This isn't over, not by a long shot. Ross and the Maker—they're going to pay for everything."

"They will," Doom said, his tone unyielding. "But for now, rest. The next steps will require all of our strength."