Marvel 616X

The waves lapped gently at the shoreline as Albedo stood at the edge of the beach, his crimson eyes scanning the horizon. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting an eerie glow over the seemingly tranquil scene. Beside him, Thor stood tall, Stormbreaker resting casually over his shoulder. His expression was calm but his sharp eyes betrayed his vigilance.

"It's here," Albedo said, his voice low but certain. "The safehouse Fury mentioned. It's underwater."

Thor glanced out at the still waters, his brow furrowing slightly. "An abandoned safehouse beneath the ocean? It seems Fury was fond of unconventional hiding places."

Albedo held up a handheld scanner, its screen flickering faintly with energy readings. "Unconventional, but effective. The readings are faint, but the coordinates Fury left match this location. If the door still exists, it'll be somewhere on the seabed."

Thor raised an eyebrow, gripping Stormbreaker. "And how do you propose we find it?"

Albedo smirked faintly, already shifting into his aquatic form. His body morphed quickly, scales replacing skin as his limbs transformed into the sleek, muscular frame of Ripjaws. His gills flared as he inhaled deeply, and his sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight.

"I'll search the seabed," Albedo said, his voice garbled through his sharp teeth. "Your job is simple—follow me."

Thor nodded, summoning a shimmering field of protective magic around himself with a tap of Stormbreaker. The aura encased him in a bubble of air, allowing him to breathe and move freely underwater.

"Lead on, Albedo," Thor said with a grin. "Let us see where Fury's secrets have been hidden."

Without hesitation, Albedo dove into the water, his powerful tail propelling him forward with incredible speed. Thor followed, Stormbreaker illuminating their path as they descended into the dark depths.

The ocean grew colder as they moved deeper, the surface light fading quickly. Albedo swam close to the seabed, his sharp eyes scanning the sand and rocks for any sign of an entrance. Thor floated nearby, his protective field casting a faint glow around them.

"Do you see anything?" Thor called, his voice calm but steady.

"Not yet," Albedo replied, his gills flaring as he turned his head sharply. "But the energy readings are getting stronger. We're close."

They continued to search, weaving between outcroppings of rock and patches of kelp. The faint glow of Albedo's scanner provided a guide, the readings pulsing stronger as they moved forward.

Finally, Albedo stopped, his claws digging into the sand as he brushed away debris. "Here," he said, his voice firm. Beneath the layers of sediment was a faint outline—a metal door buried deep in the seabed.

Thor floated closer, observing the markings on the door. "Well hidden," he remarked, inspecting the corroded edges. "But can you open it?"

Albedo worked quickly, his claws scraping against the edges of the door as he sought a latch or mechanism. "If Fury's encryption was any indication, this won't be easy. But I'll find a way."

Thor gripped Stormbreaker tightly, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "Do so quickly. This place may be abandoned, but there are dangers in waters such as these."

Albedo nodded, his focus unwavering. The scanner began to pulse more rapidly, indicating that the door's locking mechanism still had faint traces of power. He traced his claws along the edges, feeling for weak points.

"Got it," Albedo muttered. He dug his claws into a hidden seam, applying pressure until the faint sound of gears grinding echoed through the water. The door shifted slightly, revealing a narrow passageway that descended further into darkness.

Thor adjusted his grip on Stormbreaker, his tone steady. "After you."

Albedo glanced back at him, his sharp teeth gleaming in a faint grin. "Stay close. If Fury's safehouse is still intact, we might find more than just an empty room."

The two moved cautiously into the passage, their senses on high alert as they entered the depths of Fury's underwater safehouse.

Albedo and Thor moved cautiously through the narrow passageway of the safehouse, their senses heightened in the dimly lit, enclosed space. The faint glow from Thor's protective aura and the low hum of residual power from the facility provided just enough light to navigate the metallic corridor. The air inside was damp and cold, a sign that while the facility had held up remarkably well, it hadn't escaped the slow encroachment of time and the ocean.

Thor glanced at the corroded walls, his brow furrowed. "This place doth resemble a tomb more than a refuge. Art thou certain Fury's secrets lie within?"

Albedo swam slightly ahead, now back in his human form, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. His boots clicked softly against the metal floor as he ran a hand along the wall. "If there's one thing Nick Fury excelled at, it was staying ahead of everyone—especially people like The Maker. The fact that this base still exists, untouched, is proof of his skill. The Maker hasn't found it, and that alone makes this place invaluable."

Thor nodded, his expression softening. "A man who could thus outwit one as cunning as The Maker doth earn my respect. Fury was indeed a master of secrecy."

They advanced deeper into the facility, and the corridor opened into a larger room—a control center of sorts. It was filled with rusted terminals, broken monitors, and old equipment coated with layers of grime and sea salt. Despite the decay, faint lights flickered from some of the systems, suggesting that parts of the facility were still operational.

"Not entirely dead," Albedo muttered, running his hand over one of the consoles. "Fury was thorough. Even after all this time, this place is still breathing."

Thor rested Stormbreaker against the wall, his protective aura dimming slightly now that they were out of the water. "We must uncover its secrets, yet tread we carefully. Abandonment oft masks hidden perils."

Albedo approached the central console, wiping away the layers of grime covering the controls. He pressed a power button, and the console flickered to life, though the screen was dim, and the text was distorted.

"It's functional," Albedo said, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he navigated through the system. "But just barely. These old SHIELD systems are running on backup power. Fury really knew how to set these up to last."

Thor paced the room, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger. "If this be a safehouse, we must seek to contact the others. What of communication? Hath thou attempted to reach our comrades?"

Albedo pulled out his portable communicator, connecting it to the Sanctum's network. He tapped into the channels designated for the other teams but frowned as only static greeted him.

"Nothing," he said, adjusting the settings. "The water's interference is too strong. I can't get through to anyone."

Thor frowned, gripping Stormbreaker tighter. "Then we proceed as planned. If they dost face peril, they must endure until we regroup."

Albedo sighed but nodded. "Right. Let's see if we can get full power online. These systems are barely holding together as it is."

He tapped a few more keys, bringing up a schematic of the facility. Parts of the map were heavily corrupted or missing, but he found what he was looking for—a secondary power station marked down another corridor.

"There," Albedo said, pointing at the map. "If we can get the station running, it should restore the rest of the facility's systems. With any luck, it might even amplify our communications."

Thor hefted Stormbreaker, slinging it over his shoulder. "Lead on, companion. But keep thine wits about thee. Though abandoned, such places oft bear hidden dangers."

As they left the control room, the silence of the facility grew heavier. Albedo couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them. The faint echoes of their movements only heightened his unease.

"This place isn't right," he said quietly. "There's something else here."

Thor's grip on Stormbreaker tightened, his voice steady but firm. "If some hidden foe awaiteth us, let it come forth. It shall learn the folly of challenging us."

The two pressed onward, the hum of the safehouse's deteriorating systems growing louder as they neared the secondary power station. Whatever secrets this place held, Albedo was determined to uncover them—even if it meant facing whatever unknown threats Nick Fury had left behind.

Albedo and Thor moved cautiously through the corridor until they reached a larger, sealed door at the end of the passage. Albedo pressed his hand against the panel beside it, running a quick diagnostic with his equipment. After a moment, the door hissed and slid open, revealing a small, dimly lit computer room.

The room was a stark contrast to the deteriorated corridors they had passed through. The walls were lined with rows of old, yet surprisingly well-maintained servers. Several consoles were spread throughout, glowing faintly in the dim light. A desk in the corner held scattered USB drives, hard drives, and folders marked with SHIELD insignias.

Albedo stepped in first, his eyes scanning the room with a mixture of relief and urgency. "This is it. Fury's cache of data."

Thor followed, his large frame seeming out of place in the cramped, technology-filled space. He glanced at the screens and scattered devices, his brow furrowed in slight confusion. "A room filled with machines and lights. Thou shalt find treasures here?"

"These machines and lights are treasure," Albedo said, already moving to the central console. "If Fury left this much behind, it's bound to contain information The Maker doesn't want anyone to know."

Thor frowned slightly but nodded. "Then thou hast much work to do. I shall guard the outer corridors. Such a confined place is no fit for my skills."

Albedo glanced over his shoulder at Thor. "Be careful. If anything comes, let me know immediately."

Thor smirked, his confidence unshaken. "Should any foe dare approach, they will find themselves regretting such folly." With that, he turned and stepped back into the corridor, Stormbreaker resting against his shoulder.

Albedo watched him go before turning his full attention to the room. He approached the main console, brushing off a thin layer of dust before powering it on. The screen flickered to life, displaying an ancient SHIELD operating system.

"Alright, Fury," Albedo muttered under his breath as his fingers flew across the keyboard. "Let's see what you left behind."

He began accessing the files stored on the console, organizing them into manageable chunks for transfer. As he worked, he grabbed the scattered USB drives and hard drives from the desk, slotting them into the console one by one. Each one contained data—reports, video files, encrypted messages—all of which he carefully copied to his personal equipment.

The room buzzed faintly with the hum of the servers, and Albedo's focus remained sharp. Despite the relative quiet, the feeling of unease hadn't left him. He couldn't shake the sense that something—or someone—was watching.

"Too quiet," he muttered, glancing briefly at the door Thor had exited through. He tapped into his communicator, attempting to check in with his partner. "Thor, status?"

Only static greeted him, the interference from the underwater environment once again cutting him off. Albedo scowled but returned to his work. "Focus. The faster this is done, the faster we can leave."

As he continued to gather and download the data, a faint sound caught his attention. It was subtle, like a faint vibration in the walls, but it was enough to set him on edge. Albedo straightened, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around the room. He tightened his grip on the console edge, his body tense.

"Something's here," he said under his breath. Despite the unease, he returned to the console, hastily finishing the last of the transfers.

Whatever threat might be approaching, he wasn't leaving this data behind. Fury's secrets could change the tide of their battle against The Maker—and Albedo wasn't about to let that opportunity slip away.

Albedo scanned through the files on the console, his eyes narrowing as the damning evidence unfolded before him. Each folder he opened revealed more of The Maker's schemes, a meticulously planned operation that had manipulated nearly every facet of the world's history.

One folder contained a report detailing how The Maker had orchestrated the collapse of key economies. Using advanced predictive algorithms and financial manipulation, he had caused stock markets to crash and governments to fall into chaos. In their desperation, these nations had turned to SHIELD for stability—playing directly into The Maker's hands.

Another file was filled with intercepted communications between The Maker and members of the Illuminati. The conversations were chillingly calculated, outlining strategies for controlling global narratives. There were plans for "neutralizing dissenting voices," which included everything from public discreditation to outright assassination.

Albedo's jaw tightened as he read one particularly heinous entry. It detailed a secret experiment involving kidnapped telepaths and empaths. The Maker had been using them to perfect a form of psionic control, one that could enslave entire populations without them even realizing it. The experiment logs listed names—people who had simply vanished from public record.

"This bastard's not just a tyrant," Albedo muttered. "He's a monster."

The next file made his blood run cold. It was labeled "ONSLAUGHT INITIATIVE" and contained detailed schematics and notes on Magneto and Charles Xavier. The logs revealed that The Maker had manipulated their conflict, ensuring Magneto would take down Apocalypse—while secretly capturing Apocalypse and using his power to experiment on mutants. There were references to "harnessing latent potential" and "eradicating undesirables," painting a horrifying picture of his plans for genetic manipulation.

One folder contained a detailed report on Project SMASH, the experiment that had turned Rick Jones into a weapon. The document made it clear that The Maker had known the risks of A-Bomb's radiation overload but had proceeded anyway, planning to use the resulting disaster to justify the Superhuman Registration Act. Albedo clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Fury's files had hinted at this, but seeing it in The Maker's own words made it all the more infuriating.

As Albedo continued sifting through the files, he came across one marked "Personal Diaries." He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the file.

"The truth in his own words," Albedo muttered. "Let's see how far this insanity goes."

With a deep breath, he clicked on the file, the screen shifting as the first entry of The Maker's diaries began to play.

The screen flickered as the first entry of The Maker's Diaries began to play. The video quality was pristine, his voice cold and measured, radiating arrogance. The man on the screen looked eerily like the Reed Richards of Albedo's memories but with a sharper edge, his gaze devoid of empathy.

Albedo's fists clenched instinctively as he watched.

"Entry One," The Maker began, his tone calm but calculated. "I arrived in this universe during its Second World War, an inflection point in its history. Every universe has one—a moment so pivotal that a single nudge can reshape everything that comes after. For this world, World War II is the perfect entry point."

Albedo leaned closer, his jaw tightening. He's talking about war like it's a science experiment.

The Maker continued, his expression unchanging. "It was easy enough to slip into their timeline unnoticed. The chaos of war provides ample cover for a man of my intellect. I aligned myself with those who would become the foundation of power in the decades to come—SHIELD, industrial leaders, military strategists. Simpletons, all of them, but useful."

Albedo muttered under his breath, "You didn't just arrive—you infiltrated. You were building your web before they even knew you existed."

The Maker's voice took on a slightly amused tone. "The beauty of this time period lies in its malleability. The foundations of the future are laid here. Technologies are born, alliances are forged, and ideologies are tested. By embedding myself here, I ensured that I would be the architect of what came next. History is only history if no one is clever enough to rewrite it."

Albedo's anger flared, but he forced himself to stay silent, his sharp crimson eyes locked on the screen.

The Maker leaned back in his chair, his demeanor confident. "I started small, of course. A suggestion here, a blueprint there. I provided advancements to SHIELD's early predecessors, ensuring they'd see me as a visionary. And then I worked my way into their trust. With the right guidance, I set them on a path where they would always look to me for answers. They didn't know I was reshaping the very pillars of their world."

Albedo scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course. You're not just a scientist—you're the self-proclaimed savior of everything. How predictable."

The Maker's expression darkened slightly on the screen, as if responding to the exact sentiment Albedo was feeling. "But even then, I knew patience would be key. This universe is stubborn—its heroes cling to their ideals with a persistence that borders on stupidity. That's why entering at this point was crucial. I didn't just need to influence history. I needed to become a part of it, to make myself indispensable before their heroes even realized I existed."

Albedo shook his head, his voice quiet but filled with disdain. "You weren't just rewriting history. You were rewriting yourself into it."

The Maker leaned forward, his cold gaze almost piercing through the screen. "This universe may not know it yet, but it's better off under my control. Without my intervention, it would spiral into chaos. Its so-called protectors would fail it, time and again. But I won't. I'll ensure perfection, one calculated step at a time."

The video paused, the screen freezing on The Maker's unyielding expression. Albedo sat back, his fists gripping the edge of the console as he processed the man's words.

"He didn't just stumble into this," Albedo said, his voice low but filled with anger. "He chose this universe. Chose to corrupt its history because it was easy to manipulate."

He looked at the frozen image of The Maker, his crimson eyes narrowing. "And he thinks he's some kind of savior. But all he's done is poison everything he's touched."

Albedo took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He glanced at the screen, his finger hovering over the next entry.

"If this is just the beginning," he muttered, "what else has this lunatic done?"

With a sharp breath, he hit play.

The screen flickered again as Albedo opened The Maker's Diaries: File Entry 10. The Maker's cold, calculating visage filled the screen, his piercing gaze and unsettling smirk radiating arrogance.

"Entry Ten," he began, his voice calm but tinged with a faint note of satisfaction. "By now, my initial plans are well underway. This universe is beginning to take shape under my influence, though its heroes remain blissfully unaware. I have laid the foundation for a controlled, superior future—one devoid of the chaos their so-called 'freedom' creates."

Albedo leaned closer, his jaw tightening as he prepared to listen to what twisted schemes the man would reveal next.

"Two critical elements have emerged in my designs: the creation of enhanced individuals—super soldiers, if you will—and the careful manipulation of mutantkind. Both require precision and foresight, but more importantly, they require pawns. And I have found an excellent one in Obadiah Stane."

The Maker's expression shifted into something resembling amusement. "Stane is simple—a man driven by greed and status. He has no grand vision, no ambition beyond filling his coffers and inflating his ego. That makes him perfect. Unlike others who would question or challenge my goals, Stane requires only money and the illusion of power to remain loyal. And so I have given him both."

Albedo muttered under his breath, "Money and power. The easiest chains to bind a weak man."

The Maker continued, his tone growing colder. "With Stane's help, I ensured the downfall of Stark Enterprises before it could even rise. Howard Stark was a brilliant man—too brilliant to allow unchecked. His advancements would have paved the way for an independent Iron Man, a force that could complicate my plans. So, I clipped his wings."

The screen shifted to display holographic blueprints and financial records, all annotated in The Maker's meticulous handwriting. The files showed a web of sabotage: corporate espionage, stolen patents, and ruined partnerships.

"I orchestrated a series of setbacks for Stark Enterprises," The Maker explained. "Failed contracts, missing prototypes, legal troubles—all of it designed to cripple Howard's influence and ensure his work would fall into Stane's hands. Stane, of course, was more than willing to take the credit for what little remained."

Albedo's fists clenched as he realized the enormity of what The Maker had done. "You didn't just stop Stark Enterprises," he said aloud. "You erased Iron Man from history."

The Maker's voice took on a clinical tone. "With Stark Enterprises dismantled, I eliminated one of the most unpredictable elements in this world. Without the genius of Howard or the legacy of his son, there would be no Iron Man to stand in my way. Stane now serves as my proxy in the corporate world, a useful tool for implementing my designs."

The video shifted again, now showing a series of scientific experiments and data logs. Genetic diagrams filled the screen, accompanied by images of mutants and test subjects.

"Mutants, however, require a more delicate touch," The Maker said. "Their potential is vast, but their volatility makes them dangerous. Magneto, for instance, is a useful instrument of control. By positioning him as the leader of mutantkind, I have ensured their loyalty to me through him. As for the others… well, let's just say those who do not serve my vision are quietly removed from the equation."

Albedo's jaw tightened, his anger bubbling just below the surface. He doesn't even see them as people, he thought. Just pieces on his chessboard.

The Maker's gaze seemed to harden, as though he anticipated Albedo's thoughts. "All of this serves a singular purpose: to create a world where chaos is eradicated. Super soldiers, mutants, enhanced individuals—they are all tools in the greater design. Tools that I alone will wield."

The recording ended abruptly, leaving Albedo staring at the screen, his fists clenched tightly. The room felt colder now, the weight of The Maker's machinations pressing down on him.

"Stane," Albedo muttered, his voice low but seething. "You let yourself be used to destroy one of this world's greatest minds. All for money and power."

He sat back, his crimson eyes narrowing. "And mutants… he's not just controlling them. He's shaping them into weapons. And anyone who doesn't fit his vision gets wiped away."

Albedo took a deep breath, his hands trembling with restrained fury. "This is bigger than I thought. He didn't just alter history—he built an entire world around his delusions."

He reached for the next file, his resolve hardening. "Let's see how far you've gone, Maker."

With a determined breath, he clicked on the next diary entry.

The screen flickered as The Maker's Diaries: File Entry 31 began. His cold and calculated demeanor hadn't changed, but his voice carried a sharper edge, as though the weight of his growing ambitions had made him even more ruthless. Albedo's jaw clenched as he braced himself for another dose of the man's twisted justifications.

"Entry Thirty-One," The Maker began, leaning forward slightly. "The world has a peculiar way of forgetting who its savior is. It becomes complacent, ungrateful. I noticed this troubling trend as nations, industries, and even the public began pulling away from the systems I so carefully built. They believed they could manage without me. They needed to be reminded of their dependence."

Albedo's fists tightened as The Maker's smirk grew darker.

"The solution was simple," The Maker continued. "A disaster. Something they couldn't ignore, something that would bring them to their knees and force them to beg for order. A-Bomb presented the perfect opportunity. Rick Jones, in all his naivety, trusted me. He was grateful for my guidance, believed in the systems I put in place. That trust was his undoing."

The display shifted, showing a holographic representation of Rick Jones in his A-Bomb form. Energy readings spiked dangerously, and alarms blared in the simulation.

"I personally oversaw the destabilization of his containment protocols. It was subtle, untraceable, and irreversible. When the time came, he would overload, releasing a catastrophic burst of radiation. The fallout would devastate Chicago and beyond. A tragedy, yes—but one with a purpose."

Albedo's teeth clenched, his anger simmering. "You murdered thousands to make a point," he muttered under his breath. "You're not a savior—you're a monster."

The Maker continued, his tone growing colder. "The Illuminati, of course, played their roles perfectly. While I orchestrated the technical aspects, they ensured the political landscape was prepared. Bribed officials, media manipulation, and pre-planned narratives all ensured that the blame would be placed squarely on unregistered enhanced individuals. And when the dust settled, the world turned to me for guidance."

The screen shifted again, showing news footage of the Chicago disaster. Images of destruction filled the screen—collapsing buildings, devastated streets, and terrified survivors. Overlaid were headlines demanding accountability and stricter control over enhanced individuals.

"The Superhuman Registration Act passed almost immediately," The Maker said with a satisfied smirk. "The rebellion that followed was inevitable, but short-lived. They thought they could resist me, but I'd already won. The public, the governments, even the heroes—they were all too fractured to stand against me. The Act gave me everything I needed to consolidate my power."

Albedo felt his nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to listen. He couldn't look away, even as every word added to his fury.

"But even with these victories, time is against me. This world's natural resistance to change is… frustrating. Progress is slow, and I cannot afford delays. The Vault must be completed ahead of schedule. Humanity's genetic flaws cannot be allowed to persist. My vision demands perfection, and perfection requires urgency."

The Maker leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "The Illuminati serve their roles well, but even they do not fully understand the scope of my plans. They believe they are my equals, that they are working toward a shared goal. Fools. When the Vault is complete, there will be no need for councils or collaborators. The world will no longer require choice—it will simply exist in its ideal form."

Albedo's stomach churned as the screen froze on The Maker's calm, calculating expression. The room felt suffocating as the weight of the man's words settled over him.

"He didn't just destroy lives," Albedo said quietly, his voice trembling with restrained rage. "He destroyed trust, freedom, and choice. And he did it with no remorse."

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he processed what he had just heard. "The Vault," he muttered. "That's the endgame. He's not just controlling the world—he's trying to rebuild it in his image. And he's willing to burn everything to get there."

Albedo's hand hovered over the console, hesitating for a moment. But with a deep breath, he clicked on the next diary entry. "Let's see what else you've done, Maker."

Albedo's finger hovered over the console, ready to play the next diary entry. The air in the room felt heavier, thick with the weight of the horrors he had uncovered. But just as he was about to click, a loud crash echoed through the narrow corridor leading to the room.

Before Albedo could react, Thor was flung through the doorway, his protective aura flickering as he tumbled across the floor. Stormbreaker clattered to the ground, its faint glow dimming. Thor groaned, pushing himself up, his usually confident demeanor shaken.

"What the—?" Albedo began, rising to his feet, his crimson eyes narrowing.

Before Thor could respond, another figure stepped into the room, his imposing presence filling the space. The Maker stood in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression calm yet unsettlingly smug.

"Ah," The Maker said, his voice cold and precise, "so this is where you've been hiding, Albedo. I must admit, I underestimated your resourcefulness."

Behind him, "Thor" entered, his armor pristine and his expression void of emotion. The impostor's eyes locked onto Thor, and he smirked faintly, gripping his own Mjolnir tightly.

Albedo's fists clenched as he stepped in front of the console, shielding the files behind him. "Maker," he spat, his voice filled with venom. "I should've known you'd track us down."

The Maker tilted his head, his smirk growing. "Track you down? Please, don't flatter yourself. I've known about this safehouse for years. I simply had no use for it—until now."

Thor pushed himself to his feet, gripping Stormbreaker as he glared at his impostor. "Thou art no Thor," he growled, his voice filled with righteous fury. "Thy very existence is an insult to the name and the honor it bears."

"Thor" chuckled, his tone mocking. "Honor? The Maker has given me purpose, something your precious Asgard failed to provide."

The Maker held up a hand, silencing his puppet. "Now, now. Let's not waste time with petty squabbles. Albedo, I must say, I'm impressed. You've managed to uncover some of my more… delicate truths. But I'm afraid this is where your little game ends."

Albedo stepped forward, his body tense but his mind racing for a plan. "You think you can just walk in here and stop me? You might've fooled the world, Maker, but I see you for what you are—a coward hiding behind lies."

The Maker's smirk faltered for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing. "Careful, Albedo. Your bravado might convince your little band of misfits, but it won't save you now."

Thor stepped forward, standing beside Albedo as he raised Stormbreaker. "We shall see whose resolve falters first."

The tension in the room crackled like static electricity, the two sides squaring off. Albedo's sharp mind worked frantically, analyzing his options. His eyes darted to the console behind him, still displaying the files he had uncovered.

He glanced at Thor, lowering his voice. "We can't let them destroy this data. We need it."

Thor gave a curt nod, gripping Stormbreaker tighter. "Then let us stand together, Albedo. They shall not take what we have uncovered."

The Maker's smirk returned as he took a step forward. "How quaint. Heroes united, standing against impossible odds. Let's see how long that lasts."

With a flick of his wrist, The Maker signaled "Thor", who lunged forward, his hammer crackling with energy as the room erupted into chaos.

Thor squared off against "Thor", gripping Stormbreaker tightly as his eyes bore into his impostor. "Thou wield a weapon not thine own," he growled. "A name not earned. Who art thou, pretender?"

"Thor" chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he spun Mjolnir in his hand. "Does it matter? I carry the hammer now. I bear the name. And I serve a purpose greater than yours ever was."

The real Thor's grip tightened, his knuckles whitening around Stormbreaker. "Thou speak as one who knows me well, yet I know thee not. Thy deceit is plain, thy words hollow. Come, reveal thyself, so that I might end this farce."

"Thor" smirked, his tone mocking. "Oh, how noble you are. Always the righteous one, always so sure of your place in the cosmos. Perhaps that's why you failed. Why your kingdom turned its back on you."

Thor's jaw clenched, his fury mounting. He charged forward, Stormbreaker crackling with energy as he brought it down in a mighty arc. "Thor" blocked the strike with Mjolnir, the clash of their weapons sending a shockwave through the room. The impact rattled the walls, and sparks flew as the two hammers collided.

"You have not answered my question!" Thor roared, his strength pushing against "Thor's" in a test of brute force. "Who art thou to challenge me?"

"Thor" pushed back, his smirk unfaltering. "I am the one who will end you. That's all you need to know."

The two broke apart, each taking a step back to regain their footing. Thor circled his impostor, his eyes scanning every movement, every detail. The way "Thor" moved, the way he wielded Mjolnir—it was practiced, deliberate, but not entirely genuine. Something about it felt off, like a shadow imitating a figure it could never truly replicate.

Thor pointed Stormbreaker at his opponent. "Thou wield Mjolnir as one who hath trained, yet thine heart is not worthy. Thy skill betrayeth thee—thou art no god of thunder."

"Thor" laughed, a low and mocking sound. "Perhaps. But I don't need to be. The Maker has given me all I need to take you down."

Their hammers collided again, sending another shockwave through the room. This time, Thor adjusted his stance, forcing his impostor to overextend. He swung Stormbreaker low, aiming for "Thor's" legs, but his opponent leapt into the air, flipping gracefully before bringing Mjolnir crashing down toward Thor's shoulder.

Thor blocked just in time, the force of the impact sending him sliding back. He grunted, his muscles straining as he pushed back against the impostor's strength.

"Thou fight with skill but without honor," Thor said through gritted teeth. "Thou art a puppet, naught more."

"Thor" leaned closer, his expression darkening. "Call me what you want, but I stand with The Maker. And you? You're just a relic—a broken shadow of what you once were."

Thor's fury ignited, and he roared as he surged forward, driving "Thor" back with a series of powerful strikes. Each blow came faster and harder than the last, the real Thor's determination pushing him beyond his limits.

"I shall uncover thy truth!" Thor bellowed, his strikes relentless. "And when I do, thou shalt regret thy lies!"

Despite his efforts, "Thor" managed to keep pace, deflecting Stormbreaker's strikes with Mjolnir. The impostor's movements were precise, almost as if he anticipated Thor's attacks before they came.

Their fight moved across the room, the clash of their hammers echoing like thunder in the enclosed space. Thor's mind raced as he searched for any clue, any hint of who this impostor truly was, but every question was met with a vague remark or a mocking smile.

"You won't find your answers here," "Thor" taunted as they locked hammers once more. "But don't worry—I'll make sure you don't have to live with the mystery for long."

Thor growled, his strength pushing against "Thor's" as the battle raged on. Despite his opponent's skill and power, Thor's resolve remained unshaken. Whoever this impostor was, he would uncover the truth—no matter the cost.

The clash between Thor and "Thor" intensified as the impostor began channeling the raw power of thunder and lightning. The air in the room grew electric, bolts of energy arcing between the walls as Mjolnir glowed with a fierce brilliance in the impostor's grip. "Thor" raised the hammer high, summoning a bolt of lightning that tore through the air and struck down toward the real Thor.

Thor raised Stormbreaker, the weapon's enchantments and technological enhancements creating a shimmering barrier that absorbed the strike. Sparks danced along the edges of the shield before dispersing harmlessly.

"Thou wield lightning, yet it is not thine own," Thor said, his voice steady despite the strain. "Thy borrowed power shall not avail thee!"

"Thor" narrowed his eyes, the smirk fading into a look of focused irritation. "You shouldn't be able to keep up with me. That hammer should've shattered your weapon by now."

Thor surged forward, Stormbreaker glowing with an inner light as it met Mjolnir in a thunderous clash. The two weapons locked, energy crackling between them. Thor leaned in, his strength pushing back against his impostor's.

"Didst thou believe me weak because I lack mine full powers?" Thor growled. "The enchantments of this weapon, the magic of Doom, and mine own will—they are more than enough to counter thy treachery!"

The impostor gritted his teeth, stepping back to break the lock. He swung Mjolnir in a wide arc, the sheer force sending another bolt of lightning toward Thor. This time, Thor sidestepped the attack, moving with surprising agility for someone of his size.

Thor closed the distance quickly, Stormbreaker cutting through the air with precision. The axe's enhanced design allowed him to strike with both speed and power, forcing "Thor" onto the defensive. The impostor blocked each strike, but his movements became slightly less fluid as the fight wore on.

"You've trained well," "Thor" admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "But training won't save you. I was given this power for a reason."

"And I fight not for power," Thor countered, his strikes relentless. "I fight for honor, for truth—and to end thy deceit!"

The impostor's frustration grew as Thor began to press the advantage. Stormbreaker's enchantments allowed the real Thor to counter the lightning strikes and deflect the force of Mjolnir's blows. The enhancements Doom and Albedo had crafted into the equipment amplified Thor's already formidable skills, making him a match for the impostor's borrowed might.

"You shouldn't even be standing!" "Thor" roared, summoning a storm that filled the room with howling winds and blinding flashes of light. "You're a relic of a past no one needs anymore!"

Thor stood firm, Stormbreaker glowing brightly as it absorbed the energy of the storm. "A relic I may be," he said, his voice steady and unwavering, "but relics hold truths thou canst not understand."

With a mighty swing, Thor channeled the energy stored within Stormbreaker, releasing it in a powerful wave that cut through the storm. The shockwave struck "Thor", sending him stumbling back and forcing him to grip Mjolnir tighter.

"Thou art skilled, I grant thee," Thor said, his voice rising above the dissipating storm. "But skill without purpose is hollow. Thy facade shall crumble, and I shall see the truth behind it!"

"Thor" glared at him, his grip on Mjolnir tightening. "You're not as broken as they said you'd be," he muttered, more to himself than to Thor. "But it doesn't matter. I'll break you myself."

The fight raged on, the room shaking with every clash of their weapons. Despite the overwhelming power his impostor wielded, Thor held his ground, his skill and determination proving to be an equal match.

The fight between Thor and "Thor" raged on, their clashing weapons sending shockwaves through the safehouse. Each strike of Stormbreaker against Mjolnir was a thunderous declaration of the real Thor's resolve, yet "Thor" fought with increasing aggression, his attacks growing more unpredictable.

But then, something shifted.

"Thor" spun Mjolnir in a circular motion, summoning not lightning this time but swirling green energy. The air in the room grew thick with the scent of ozone and something darker—an ancient, otherworldly presence. Runes began to shimmer faintly in the air around "Thor", glowing with malevolent power.

Thor's eyes narrowed, his breath steady even as he tightened his grip on Stormbreaker. "This… this magic," he muttered, his tone wary. "This is no power of Asgard. It is darker—deceitful. This is the work of—"

Before he could finish, "Thor" smirked, and with a sharp motion, he hurled a wave of the green energy directly at Thor. The runic magic struck like a serpent, wrapping around Stormbreaker and wrenching it from his grasp. The weapon clattered to the floor, its glow dimming as the enchantments were disrupted.

Thor staggered back, his hands instinctively rising to guard against the next attack. But "Thor" didn't strike immediately. Instead, he laughed—a low, mocking sound that echoed through the room.

"You're catching on," "Thor" said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But it's too late for you to piece it all together."

Thor glared at him, his fists clenched. "This trickery reeks of Loki's foul magic. Speak! Who art thou truly? What foul deception hath placed thee here?"

"Thor" smirked but offered no answer. Instead, he raised Mjolnir high, the runic energy swirling around him as the hammer glowed brighter than ever. The impostor's movements became faster, more erratic, as though the magic was fueling his strength.

Thor lunged for Stormbreaker, but "Thor" anticipated the move. With a swift motion, he summoned another wave of green energy that struck Thor in the chest, sending him crashing into the far wall. Thor grunted in pain as he fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Not so mighty now, are you?" "Thor" taunted, striding toward him. "You're nothing without your hammer. Just a relic clinging to a legacy that doesn't belong to you anymore."

Thor struggled to rise, his hand outstretched toward Stormbreaker, but "Thor" was faster. He slammed Mjolnir into Thor's side, the force of the blow sending the real Thor sprawling onto the ground. Thor groaned, his vision blurring as he tried to push himself up.

"You should've stayed in exile," "Thor" said coldly, standing over him. "At least then, you'd still have your dignity."

Thor's vision wavered as he looked up at his impostor, his mind racing despite the pain. The use of Loki's magic, the taunting familiarity—it all pointed to something he couldn't yet voice, but the pieces were falling into place.

Before he could speak again, "Thor" raised Mjolnir once more, bringing it down with a devastating strike that landed inches away from Thor's head. The impact shook the room, and the real Thor finally collapsed, unconscious.

"Thor" stood over him, breathing heavily as the green runes faded from the air. He glanced down at his fallen opponent, his smirk returning. "Pathetic," he muttered before turning back toward The Maker, who stood watching from the shadows with an approving expression.

"The original is even weaker than I thought," "Thor" said. "Shall we move on to the next phase?"

The Maker stepped forward, his calculating gaze shifting from "Thor" to the console where Albedo still stood, his hands clenched into fists as he processed what had just happened. The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the machinery, as the confrontation shifted its focus.

As Thor clashed with "Thor," Albedo's sharp gaze snapped to The Maker, who stood calmly near the doorway, watching the unfolding chaos with an unsettling detachment. Albedo's fists tightened, and he took a step forward, his voice filled with venom.

"Of course, you'd bring your puppet," Albedo spat, his crimson eyes narrowing. "But you should've known I wouldn't just sit back and watch."

The Maker smirked, his hands clasped behind his back. "Oh, Albedo. Always so eager to prove yourself. But let me save you the trouble—you're out of your depth."

Albedo's body began to shift, his human form replaced by the sleek, aerodynamic figure of Jetray. Without hesitation, he launched a barrage of neuroshock blasts directly at The Maker, the green energy crackling through the air.

The Maker didn't even flinch. With a flick of his wrist, a small device in his palm emitted a shimmering shield of light, absorbing the blasts effortlessly. He smiled coldly. "Predictable. Did you really think I wouldn't prepare for someone with your… unique abilities?"

Albedo scowled, already shifting into his next form. His frame grew larger, his skin turning red and muscular as he transformed into Four Arms. He lunged forward, his powerful fists aiming to crush The Maker in a single blow.

The Maker stepped back smoothly, activating another device on his wrist. A field of repulsive energy burst outward, stopping Four Arms in his tracks and sending him skidding back across the room.

"Your strength is impressive," The Maker said, his tone condescending. "But brute force is such a crude solution. You're no better than the others who thought they could challenge me."

Albedo growled, shifting again, this time into Big Chill. His body turned ghostly and translucent as he phased out of sight, the temperature in the room dropping rapidly. He moved silently, positioning himself behind The Maker before reappearing to unleash a freezing blast.

But The Maker, ever prepared, turned sharply and activated another device. A wave of intense heat radiated outward, melting the ice attack before it could reach him. Albedo barely managed to phase back out before the heat struck him directly.

"Clever," The Maker remarked, glancing at the charred floor where Big Chill had stood. "But not clever enough. I've studied every super-powered individual in this world. Their strengths, their weaknesses, their habits. Did you really think you'd be the exception?"

Albedo reappeared a few feet away, panting slightly from the exertion. He shifted into Feedback, his body crackling with energy as he sent a surge of electricity hurtling toward The Maker.

The Maker merely raised a small device that absorbed the charge, the energy dispersing harmlessly into the air. "Electricity? Really? You're just cycling through your forms now, hoping something sticks. You're predictable, Albedo. And predictable is easy to defeat."

"You talk too much," Albedo snapped, shifting into Swampfire. Flames erupted from his hands as he sent a torrent of fire toward The Maker, his frustration mounting with every failed attack.

The Maker pressed a button on his wrist, releasing a burst of chemical foam that extinguished the flames before they could reach him. He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mockery. "Is this your grand strategy? Cycling through transformations like a child cycling through toys?"

Albedo gritted his teeth, his body shifting again, this time into Echo Echo. Multiple clones appeared around The Maker, their combined voices creating a deafening sonic wave that shook the room.

The Maker's expression finally shifted, a faint scowl crossing his face as he activated yet another device. A dampening field spread out from his belt, silencing the sonic attack almost instantly. The Echo Echo clones faltered, their unity broken as the sound waves dissipated.

"You truly don't understand, do you?" The Maker said, stepping closer to the original Echo Echo. "This isn't just preparation. This is inevitability. You're not the first powerful being I've neutralized, and you won't be the last. You might think you're different because you're… unique, but you're not. You're just another piece on the board. And I always win."

Albedo shifted back into his human form, his crimson eyes blazing with frustration and anger. "You think you've won just because you're prepared? You haven't seen everything I'm capable of."

The Maker smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Haven't I? Go on, Albedo. Show me. Show me something I didn't plan for."

Albedo hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. Every attack, every strategy—The Maker had countered them all effortlessly. But he couldn't back down. Not now. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for his next move, even as doubt began to creep into his thoughts.

Albedo's body shifted again, his form becoming mechanical and intricate, with green accents glowing faintly along his frame. Clockwork. The transformation was immediate, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to change.

The Maker's confident smirk faded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Albedo's new form. "Clockwork," he murmured. "Interesting. Temporal manipulation. Now this… this is a form worth taking seriously."

Albedo's crimson eyes glinted through the glowing green of Clockwork's face as his voice resonated with an echoing depth. "Then you finally understand you can't underestimate me."

Before The Maker could respond, Albedo disappeared in a flicker of green light, reappearing directly behind him. Clockwork's mechanical arms swung with incredible speed, and The Maker barely managed to activate a shield in time to block the strike. The force of the blow sent The Maker skidding back, his shield shimmering from the impact.

"Fast," The Maker said, his tone calm but strained. He tapped a button on his wrist, summoning a drone that immediately began firing concentrated energy blasts at Albedo.

Clockwork's body shifted slightly, his internal mechanisms glowing as he slowed time around him. The energy blasts moved sluggishly through the air, giving Albedo ample time to maneuver around them. With precision, he grabbed one of the drones, hurling it back toward The Maker. The drone exploded, sending sparks across the room, but The Maker remained unfazed, activating another device on his belt to shield himself from the blast.

"Impressive," The Maker admitted, stepping forward as he recalibrated his gauntlets. "But you're not the only one who can manipulate time."

He raised his arm, and a pulse of energy erupted from his gauntlet, distorting the space around them. The room flickered, and Albedo felt the pull of temporal interference disrupting his abilities. His movements slowed as The Maker's device counteracted his control over time.

"Let's see how you fare when the playing field is even," The Maker said, his voice colder now. He pressed another button, and an array of mechanical tendrils shot out from his gauntlets, aiming to ensnare Albedo.

Clockwork's glowing eyes narrowed, and he summoned a temporal field around himself, slowing the tendrils just enough to evade them. He moved with precision, reappearing behind The Maker once again. This time, he aimed a powerful strike at The Maker's torso, the blow landing with enough force to disrupt the device on The Maker's belt.

The Maker staggered slightly, glancing down at the sparking device. "You're learning," he said, his voice tinged with irritation. "But you still don't understand who you're dealing with."

He pressed a button on his gauntlet, and the damaged device released a final burst of temporal distortion. Albedo stumbled as the room shifted around him, his temporal field struggling to stabilize. The Maker took advantage of the opening, launching a series of concentrated energy blasts at Clockwork.

Albedo managed to deflect some of the blasts, his metallic frame absorbing the impacts, but the force pushed him back. He reoriented himself, his glowing green body flickering as he prepared his next move.

"You're right about one thing," Albedo said, his voice calm and measured despite the strain. "You've prepared for a lot. But you can't plan for everything."

Clockwork raised his arms, summoning a massive temporal wave that rippled through the room. The wave distorted the space around The Maker, slowing his movements and disrupting his devices. For the first time, The Maker's composure faltered, his movements becoming sluggish as he fought against the temporal interference.

"You think slowing me down will stop me?" The Maker growled, his voice strained as he activated yet another device. This one emitted a counter-wave, nullifying Clockwork's temporal field and restoring his mobility.

The two clashed again, Albedo using Clockwork's abilities with incredible precision. He phased in and out of temporal shifts, striking The Maker from unpredictable angles, but The Maker's advanced technology allowed him to adapt quickly. Each strike was met with a countermeasure, each move analyzed and responded to in real-time.

The battle became a blur of green light and energy pulses, each combatant pushing the limits of their abilities. Albedo's mind raced, searching for an opening, while The Maker's calculated demeanor remained intact, his cold intellect driving his every move.

"You're better than I expected," The Maker admitted, his voice steady despite the intensity of the fight. "But it won't be enough. I've prepared for beings far more dangerous than you."

"And yet, here you are, struggling," Albedo shot back, his voice tinged with defiance.

The two clashed again, the room shaking from the force of their battle. Albedo knew he was pushing the limits of Clockwork's abilities, but he couldn't afford to back down. This was more than a fight—it was a battle for survival, for the truth, and for the chance to finally turn the tide against The Maker.

The fight raged on, the air thick with the tension of clashing wills and the crackling energy of Albedo's temporal abilities. Clockwork darted through time distortions, evading The Maker's relentless technological countermeasures. The Maker, calm and calculating, continued to adapt, his devices whirring and recalibrating with every move Albedo made.

But then The Maker's expression shifted, a faint smirk curling on his lips. "You're determined, I'll give you that," he said, sidestepping one of Clockwork's strikes. "But what exactly are you fighting for, Albedo? Your team? Your grand rebellion?"

Albedo didn't respond, his focus unwavering as he phased out of sight and reappeared behind The Maker. His mechanical fist swung toward The Maker's side, but his opponent's shield flared to life, deflecting the blow with a burst of kinetic energy.

The Maker chuckled, stepping back. "Do you really think you're winning? Do you think your little group is still out there fighting for your so-called cause?"

Albedo's eyes narrowed, his voice echoing with Clockwork's mechanical resonance. "If this is your attempt to throw me off, you'll have to try harder."

"Oh, I don't need to try," The Maker replied, his tone icy and confident. He tapped a button on his gauntlet, and suddenly, Albedo's communicator crackled to life.

Albedo froze mid-step, his attention momentarily diverted as the interference he'd been battling for hours abruptly cleared. The familiar static was replaced by a clear, chilling voice.

"Hello, Albedo," came the voice of Iron Man—Obadiah Stane.

Albedo's crimson eyes widened as he instinctively activated the communicator. "Where are my teammates?" he demanded, his voice sharp with urgency.

"You mean these people?" Obadiah's voice was dripping with smugness. "Let's just say they've had a little… setback."

Another voice cut in, this one colder and more controlled. Captain Marvel. "They fought well," she said, her tone almost begrudging. "But they were no match for us."

Albedo's heart sank as he processed their words. "What did you do to them?" he growled, his mechanical fists clenching tightly.

The Maker smirked, his arms crossed as he observed Albedo's reaction. "See? This is what happens when you underestimate the resources of your enemies. You thought you could walk into my world and tear it apart? Foolish."

Albedo ignored him, his focus entirely on the voices coming through the communicator. "Polaris? Thor? A-Bomb? Answer me!" he called out, desperation creeping into his voice.

There was no response from his team. Instead, a third voice joined the channel—low, guttural, and filled with anger. Red Hulk. "They're not answering, kid," he growled. "Because they're done. You should've stayed in whatever hole you crawled out of."

Albedo's mind raced, his usually sharp focus faltering as The Maker's plan came into clearer view. He was isolated, his team defeated, and now even his confidence in their strength was being shattered.

"I told you," The Maker said, his tone almost mocking. "I've been preparing for every contingency. You think you're unique, but you're not. Your little team—your rebellion—was doomed from the start."

Albedo's body flickered, his Clockwork form destabilizing slightly as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But then he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay in control.

"Even if they're down," Albedo said, his voice hardening, "this isn't over. You're just proving how desperate you are to hold onto your twisted little empire."

The Maker's smirk returned, and he gestured toward Albedo. "Desperation? No, Albedo. This isn't desperation. This is inevitability." He took a step forward, his imposing presence filling the room. "Your team is broken. Your plans are in shambles. And soon, you'll join them in failure."

Albedo glared at him, his resolve wavering but not broken. "We'll see about that."

The fight was far from over, but The Maker had successfully planted a seed of doubt in Albedo's mind, forcing him to confront the grim reality of his situation.

The Maker's devices hummed ominously as he continued his relentless assault on Albedo. Clockwork's temporal abilities, once a source of strength, now faltered under the strain of The Maker's precision technology. Every move Albedo made was countered with ruthless efficiency, his form growing unstable as exhaustion began to set in.

Albedo launched one last desperate attack, phasing out of sight and reappearing behind The Maker with a strike aimed at his control gauntlet. But The Maker anticipated the move, spinning and activating a pulse of energy that erupted outward, sending Albedo flying across the room. He crashed into a console, sparks flying as his body flickered and reverted to his human form.

Albedo groaned, struggling to push himself up as The Maker approached, his steps slow and deliberate. "You fought well, Albedo," The Maker said, his tone almost mocking. "But, like everyone else, you overestimated yourself."

Before Albedo could react, The Maker activated a device in his hand. A metallic collar shot out and locked around Albedo's neck with a sharp click. Albedo's eyes widened as he felt the dampening field take hold, a wave of weakness washing over him. His body grew heavier, his muscles sluggish, and his connection to his powers severed.

"You… coward," Albedo spat, his voice strained as he glared up at The Maker. "You can't even face me without taking away my abilities."

The Maker smirked, crouching slightly to look Albedo directly in the eyes. "Why would I waste time on fairness when I have the means to ensure my victory? Efficiency, Albedo. That's what separates me from people like you."

Albedo gritted his teeth, his fists clenching despite his body's weakness. "You can't keep this up forever. Someone will stop you."

The Maker chuckled, standing up straight as he turned away. "Oh, Albedo. That's what they all say. And yet, here I am."

Behind him, "Thor" stepped forward, his expression devoid of sympathy as he hefted Mjolnir. "What shall we do with him?" the impostor asked.

The Maker glanced over his shoulder. "Leave him. He's no longer a threat."

"Thor" hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to Albedo before nodding. "As you wish."

The Maker raised his wrist device, tapping a sequence of buttons. The safehouse trembled as a low rumble echoed through its halls. "Oh, and one more thing," The Maker added, his tone almost casual. "This facility has outlived its usefulness. Consider it… an insurance policy."

Albedo's eyes widened. "You're going to blow this place up?"

The Maker smirked as he and "Thor" began to leave. "It's not personal, Albedo. It's just business."

The tremors grew stronger, and distant explosions echoed through the corridors as The Maker and "Thor" disappeared into the shadows. Albedo was left alone, the dampener around his neck humming faintly as the room around him began to collapse.

He gritted his teeth, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan. His body was weak, his powers suppressed, and the odds were stacked against him. But even in the face of defeat, Albedo refused to give up.

"This isn't over," he muttered, dragging himself to his feet as debris began to rain down around him. "Not by a long shot."

Albedo stumbled through the shaking facility, his body weakened by the power dampener locked around his neck. The metallic hum of the device felt like a weight pressing against his very being, suffocating his connection to his abilities. Debris rained down from above, sparks flying as the safehouse's systems began to implode.

He glanced toward Thor, who lay unconscious on the floor, Stormbreaker just out of reach. Albedo staggered over to him, shaking the Asgardian's shoulder. "Thor! Wake up! We need to move!"

Thor groaned weakly, his body battered and bruised from the fight. "I… cannot," he muttered, his voice faint. "Mine strength… fails me."

Albedo's jaw clenched as he scanned the room, his mind racing for a solution. The walls were cracking, the floor trembling beneath his feet. Time was running out, and every exit he tried to calculate seemed impossible.

"No, no, no," Albedo muttered under his breath, a rare note of panic creeping into his usually composed tone. "There has to be a way out."

He looked to the door they had entered through, but it was blocked by collapsed machinery. The ventilation shafts were too small to fit through, and even if they weren't, the facility's self-destruct sequence was ripping everything apart.

The explosions grew louder, and a wave of heat surged through the room, forcing Albedo to shield his face. He turned back to Thor, crouching beside him as the tremors intensified. "Thor, come on! You're supposed to be the mighty god of thunder. You can't just give up now!"

Thor opened one eye, a faint smirk on his battered face. "Thou art… persistent, friend," he murmured. "But even gods… have their limits."

Albedo looked down, his mind racing. He tried to summon the strength to activate his transformations, to phase them out of there, but the dampener clamped around his neck made it impossible. He slammed his fists against the floor in frustration.

"I can't… I can't do anything," he muttered, his voice shaking. "I've fought so hard, but I keep losing. I keep failing."

The facility shook violently, the sound of another explosion roaring from somewhere deep below. Albedo looked around desperately, his thoughts clouded by fear and self-doubt.

"No!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the collapsing room. "This can't be it! This can't—"

Before he could finish, a blinding flash of light filled the space. It was pure, radiant, and unlike anything Albedo had seen before. For a brief moment, the chaos around him seemed to freeze, as if time itself had stopped.

Albedo felt a sudden pull, like an unseen hand grabbing him and Thor. The light enveloped them, its warmth cutting through the suffocating heat of the explosions.

"What… what is this?" Albedo muttered, his voice trembling as the world around him dissolved into white.

The last thing he saw before everything went dark was the faint outline of Thor, still unconscious but seemingly at peace, as they were whisked away into the unknown.