Marvel 616X

Chapter 18

Albedo's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurred and hazy. The faint hum of machinery and the sterile smell of the air filled his senses. He blinked a few times, his surroundings coming into focus—a sleek, metallic room with walls adorned in Galvanian designs.

He groaned, his body aching as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Where… am I?" he muttered, his voice raspy. He reached up, instinctively feeling his neck for the dampener, but it was gone. Relief flooded him for a brief moment before the memories of the exploding facility and the blinding light came rushing back.

He froze, his crimson eyes darting around the room. "Thor!" he called out, his voice echoing. "Where is—"

Before he could finish, the door to the room slid open with a faint hiss. Albedo's gaze snapped toward it, his body tensing as he prepared for the worst. But instead of an enemy, a small figure stepped through—a Galvan.

Albedo's eyes widened in shock as he took in the familiar features of the diminutive alien. The Galvan's sharp, calculating eyes studied him for a moment before it spoke in a calm, even tone. "You are awake. Good. We were beginning to wonder how long it would take."

Albedo stared at the Galvan, his mind racing. "You're… Galvan? But how? I thought—" He stopped himself, shaking his head as confusion and disbelief battled for dominance in his thoughts. "Where am I? What is this place?"

The Galvan stepped closer, its expression unreadable. "You are on a secure Galvanian station, outside the reach of The Maker. You were retrieved from the facility before its destruction."

Albedo's eyes narrowed. "Retrieved? By whom? Why?"

The Galvan tilted its head slightly, a faint hint of amusement in its voice. "All your questions will be answered. But for now, you are to come with me. Azmuth is expecting you."

"Azmuth?" Albedo repeated, his shock giving way to a mixture of anger and confusion. "He's here? Why does he want to see me?"

The Galvan raised a hand, silencing him. "All will be explained. But Azmuth does not like to be kept waiting."

Albedo hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. But the mention of Azmuth—his former mentor, the creator of the Omnitrix—left him with no choice. If anyone could provide answers, it was Azmuth.

He stood slowly, his legs shaky but steady enough to carry him. "Fine," he said, his voice steadying as he straightened his posture. "Lead the way."

The Galvan nodded and turned, leading Albedo out of the room and into a sleek, illuminated corridor. As they walked, Albedo's mind raced with questions. Why were the Galvans here? How had they escaped The Maker's grasp? And what did Azmuth want with him now, after everything he had done?

He glanced around the corridor, taking in the intricate Galvanian designs etched into the walls. It was all so familiar, yet so surreal. For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn't fighting, fleeing, or plotting. He was simply walking, unsure of what awaited him at the end of the corridor.

As they approached a large, ornate door, the Galvan stopped and turned to face him. "Brace yourself," it said simply. "Azmuth has been expecting you for some time."

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a large chamber filled with glowing consoles, intricate machinery, and at the center, a single figure—Azmuth.

Albedo took a deep breath and stepped inside, ready to face whatever awaited him.

Albedo stepped into the chamber, his sharp crimson eyes narrowing as they locked onto the small figure standing in the center. Azmuth's posture was as composed and authoritative as Albedo remembered, his sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the machinery around him. The room thrummed with energy, an atmosphere of both innovation and tension.

"So," Albedo said, his voice laced with sarcasm and annoyance, "the great Azmuth finally graces me with his presence. I suppose I should feel honored."

Azmuth turned slowly, his calm, piercing gaze meeting Albedo's. He didn't respond immediately, instead taking a moment to study Albedo with an expression that was neither judgmental nor forgiving. "Albedo," he said, his tone measured, "it's been a long time."

"Spare me the pleasantries," Albedo snapped, crossing his arms. "Why am I here? What is this place? And how did you—" He gestured vaguely around the room. "—even manage to avoid The Maker?"

Azmuth raised a single brow, unfazed by Albedo's rudeness. "Always so impatient," he said with a faint sigh. "You haven't changed much, I see."

Albedo scowled, stepping closer. "Don't patronize me, Azmuth. I've been through hell, and I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures. Start talking—what's going on, and why did you save me?"

Azmuth turned away, walking slowly toward a console in the center of the room. "Do you always assume you're the center of the universe, Albedo? Not everything revolves around you."

"Don't play games with me," Albedo shot back. "You wouldn't go through the trouble of rescuing me if you didn't need something."

Azmuth's small hands moved across the console, the screens flickering with data. "Perhaps I simply wanted to ensure you didn't meet an untimely end. You've always had a knack for attracting disaster, after all."

Albedo's fists clenched. "I'm not some pawn for you to toy with. If you're going to say something, just say it."

Azmuth turned back to him, his expression calm but his tone firm. "Patience, Albedo. There is a time for questions, and there is a time for answers. For now, I wish to have a conversation. Is that so much to ask?"

Albedo scoffed, leaning against the edge of a nearby console. "A conversation? Fine. Start with this—why am I here? What's your angle this time?"

Azmuth ignored the sharpness in Albedo's tone, his voice steady as he spoke. "You were brought here because I believe you still have a role to play, despite your… history. I have observed your journey, Albedo, and though you've stumbled more times than I care to count, you are not beyond redemption."

"Redemption?" Albedo laughed bitterly. "You think I'm doing all this to redeem myself? I'm not some starry-eyed hero, Azmuth. I'm here to stop The Maker because no one else can."

"And yet," Azmuth replied, his tone unwavering, "your actions speak otherwise. You could have abandoned those you rescued. You could have focused solely on survival. But you didn't. You've chosen to fight, to lead, to protect. Whether you admit it or not, Albedo, you're becoming something more."

Albedo bristled, his sharp demeanor faltering for a moment before he quickly masked it. "Save the psychoanalysis. What about Thor? Where is he?"

Azmuth gestured toward a nearby chamber, its glass walls glowing softly. Inside, Thor lay motionless, his breathing steady and his wounds healing. Advanced Galvanian machinery surrounded him, monitoring his vitals and repairing the damage done during the battle.

"He is recovering," Azmuth said simply. "Your companion is stronger than I expected. Though not invincible, it seems."

Albedo glanced at Thor's unconscious form, his expression softening slightly before he turned back to Azmuth. "Why save him? Why save either of us? You've always been about logic and efficiency. What's logical about this?"

Azmuth walked closer, his small frame seemingly towering with authority despite his size. "Because, Albedo, I see potential in you. In both of you. The Maker's threat is not one that can be faced alone. The Galvans have remained hidden, but even we cannot ignore the stakes."

Albedo's gaze hardened. "Then stop talking in riddles and tell me what you know about him. If you've been watching, you know what he's capable of."

Azmuth paused, his expression unreadable. "I do. And that is why I brought you here—to prepare you for what's to come. But first, we must see if you're truly ready to face the truth."

Albedo straightened, his frustration giving way to cautious curiosity. "What truth?"

Azmuth turned back to the console, the glow of the screens reflecting in his sharp eyes. "All in due time, Albedo. All in due time."

Azmuth's eyes lingered on the glowing console in front of him, his tone softening slightly as he spoke. "Albedo, you've always been one of the brightest minds among the Galvans. Even from a young age, your intellect and resourcefulness were remarkable. I had high expectations for you—expectations I still hold, even now."

Albedo's sharp demeanor faltered slightly, the weight of Azmuth's words catching him off guard. He crossed his arms, leaning against the console as his gaze shifted to the floor. "And yet, I failed you," he muttered bitterly. "I know what you're going to say, Azmuth. My arrogance, my ambition—it led me astray. I let my own pride blind me."

Azmuth turned to face him, his expression a mix of sternness and something resembling compassion. "It wasn't just pride, Albedo. It was your inability to see beyond yourself. Your drive, while extraordinary, became your greatest flaw. Instead of using your gifts to create, to elevate others, you used them to control, to prove your superiority."

Albedo's fists clenched, his jaw tightening as the truth hit harder than he expected. "I know," he admitted, his voice quiet but filled with frustration. "I thought I deserved more. I thought I was owed something for my talents. But all I did was prove I wasn't worthy of anything."

Azmuth studied him for a moment before speaking again. "And yet, you're still here. You've faced failure after failure, and yet you haven't stopped. Do you know why?"

Albedo looked up, his crimson eyes meeting Azmuth's. "Because I don't have a choice," he said. "The Maker isn't like anyone I've faced before. He's methodical, calculated—everything I thought I was. But he's also ruthless, and if someone doesn't stop him, no one will."

Azmuth nodded slowly. "You're correct, but there's more to it than that. You've changed, Albedo. Whether you admit it or not, your failures have forced you to grow. They've tempered your arrogance, given you humility, even if only a little."

Albedo gave a bitter chuckle. "Humility? That's generous. I've just learned that being clever isn't enough. I've learned that alone, I'm nothing."

"And that," Azmuth said firmly, "is the first step toward true strength. The Maker is a reflection of what you could have become, had you continued down the path you were on. You see that now, don't you?"

Albedo hesitated before nodding. "I see it," he admitted. "He's everything I hate about myself, amplified a thousand times. I thought I was better than everyone else. Smarter, more capable. But now, I just see how dangerous that mindset really is."

Azmuth's expression softened slightly, a rare moment of understanding passing between them. "You're learning, Albedo. It's not an easy path, but it's the only one worth walking. If you can embrace that growth, if you can let go of the pride that held you back, you might yet become the ally this universe so desperately needs."

Albedo let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I'm trying," he said. "But it's not easy. Every step forward feels like a fight. Against The Maker, against my own doubts… against everything I've been."

"Growth never is easy," Azmuth said. "But it is necessary. And you, Albedo, have more potential than most. If you can harness it, if you can rise above your faults, you might not just stop The Maker—you might surpass even my expectations."

Albedo looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment before a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Surpassing your expectations, huh? That might be worth trying for."

Azmuth allowed himself a small smile, a rare moment of warmth breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. "Then let's see if you can rise to the challenge, Albedo. The universe is counting on it."

Albedo shifted uneasily, the weight of the conversation with Azmuth still lingering in his mind. But there was no time to dwell on self-reflection; the situation demanded action. His voice was calm but firm as he addressed the elder Galvan.

"Azmuth, if you truly think I can rise to this challenge, then help me. My team—Thor, Polaris, Jean, all of them—they're still out there. The Maker has them, and I need to know where they are and how to save them."

Azmuth's expression darkened, his usual calm replaced by a hint of urgency. He tapped a command into the console, and holographic images began to materialize in the air. They showed Albedo's team restrained and unconscious, bound by energy shackles in a stark, high-tech holding chamber.

"The Maker has planned this well," Azmuth said gravely. "Your team is being held in a highly secure facility. Their capture isn't just about neutralizing them—it's about making an example. The Maker intends to execute them publicly, to send a message to anyone who might oppose him."

Albedo's fists clenched, anger bubbling to the surface. "Publicly execute them? He's not just stopping resistance—he's trying to crush all hope. He wants people to think he's untouchable."

"Precisely," Azmuth said, his voice heavy with solemnity. "If he succeeds, the fight against him will become exponentially harder. Fear is a powerful weapon, Albedo, and The Maker wields it with precision."

Albedo's mind raced, formulating plans and discarding them just as quickly. "Then we can't let it happen. I need to get to them, to save them. But I can't do it alone. I'll need reinforcements."

Azmuth nodded. "Professor Paradox has already foreseen this moment. He has agreed to temporarily take Doom's place in maintaining the timeline's stability so that Doom can join you in this battle. Together, the two of you might stand a chance."

Albedo raised an eyebrow, his confidence flickering slightly. "Might? That's not exactly reassuring."

"Because it won't be enough," Azmuth replied, his voice steady. "Even with Doom's assistance, The Maker's forces are vast, and his resources nearly limitless. You'll need something more—an edge."

Albedo's crimson eyes narrowed. "What kind of edge?"

Azmuth turned back to the console, his fingers deftly entering commands as the holographic projection of the Ultimatrix floated in the air between them. Albedo stared at it, his expression skeptical and confused, as Azmuth began to speak.

"This is not the Ultimatrix you remember," Azmuth said, his tone calm but resolute. "I intend to repurpose it into something far greater. Something that will serve as a tool to unlock your true potential."

Albedo's crimson eyes narrowed. "Unlock my potential? What are you talking about? I thought the Ultimatrix was a failure—a flawed device that caused more problems than it solved."

Azmuth didn't flinch at Albedo's skepticism. Instead, he gestured to the hologram, his voice steady. "The original Ultimatrix was indeed a failure—conceptually. Its purpose was muddled, its design focused on too many objectives. But that doesn't mean its technology was without merit. The idea of evolution, of pushing biological potential to its ultimate form, was sound. It simply lacked proper focus."

Albedo crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "And now you think you can fix it? Make it something better?"

"Not just better," Azmuth said firmly. "Singular in purpose. This new version of the Ultimatrix will no longer be about transformation alone. Instead, it will allow you to temporarily access ultimate forms—a transformation boost that will enhance your abilities to unprecedented levels."

Albedo's skepticism gave way to curiosity, though his guarded expression remained. "Temporary? So I can shift into ultimate forms when I need them? And they'll be stronger than my current transformations?"

Azmuth nodded, his sharp gaze meeting Albedo's. "Precisely. Your physiology, while remarkable, is limited by your current understanding of it. The Ultimatrix will bridge that gap, enabling you to access a state of evolution that would otherwise take centuries of natural progression to achieve. But it will be up to you to wield it properly. The ultimate forms are a boost, not a crutch."

Albedo's mind raced as he processed Azmuth's words. The idea of temporarily evolving into ultimate forms was undeniably enticing. "And what's the catch?" he asked. "There's always a catch with you."

Azmuth allowed himself a small smile. "The catch is that this will require precision, patience, and discipline. The Ultimatrix is not a toy, Albedo. Using ultimate forms will place a significant strain on your body and mind. Overuse or recklessness could lead to serious consequences."

Albedo hesitated, his thoughts swirling with a mix of doubt and determination. The idea of accessing ultimate forms was tempting, but his past failures and impulsiveness still lingered in the back of his mind. "Why now?" he asked finally. "Why give me this opportunity after everything I've done?"

Azmuth's expression softened, his voice losing some of its sharpness. "Because I still see potential in you, Albedo. Your arrogance and ambition have caused harm, yes, but they have also driven you to remarkable heights. If you can channel those traits into something greater, something selfless, you might just become the ally this universe needs."

Albedo looked at the hologram of the Ultimatrix, the faint glow of its projection reflecting in his crimson eyes. He took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling on his shoulders. "Fine," he said, his voice steady. "Let's do it. Let's build this… Ultimatrix 2.0 or whatever you want to call it. If it'll help me stop The Maker and save my team, I'll do whatever it takes."

Azmuth nodded, his expression unreadable but his voice filled with purpose. "Then we have no time to waste. Come, Albedo. Let's begin."

As the two moved to the console, Albedo couldn't help but feel a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. For the first time, the path forward seemed clear—difficult, yes, but achievable. And this time, he had a new tool to help him fight back.

A week had passed since Albedo and Azmuth began their work, and the lab was now a testament to the progress they had made. The sleek, intricate design of the new Ultimatrix rested on a central workbench, its polished surface glowing faintly with green energy. Albedo stood over it, a rare expression of satisfaction on his face.

"It's done," Albedo said, his voice steady but carrying a faint edge of pride. "The new Ultimatrix."

Azmuth, standing beside him, nodded approvingly. "It's more than just a tool, Albedo. This is the culmination of Galvan ingenuity and your unique physiology. Use it wisely."

Albedo picked up the device, studying it closely. The wrist-mounted design was far more streamlined than the original. It hummed with energy, and he could feel its potential radiating from it. "Let's hope it's enough," Albedo muttered, fastening it to his wrist. The device clicked into place, syncing seamlessly with his body.

Before he could test its capabilities, the lab door slid open, and Thor strode in. His presence filled the room as usual, but it was the new additions to his gear that caught Albedo's eye. His armor gleamed with faint Galvanian modifications—energy-conducting runes etched into the metal, subtle enhancements integrated into its design.

Most impressive was the glow emanating from his belt and gloves. The belt, now embedded with a Galvanian core, radiated power, and his gloves seemed to pulse with energy, crackling faintly with electromagnetic resonance. Stormbreaker rested across his back, similarly enhanced with Galvanian improvements, its edge sharper, its magic-infused core shining brightly.

Thor's presence was even more imposing now, his posture exuding a confidence that seemed to flow directly from his enhanced gear.

"Thy craftmanship is remarkable," Thor said, his voice resonating in the Olde English dialect. He raised an arm, his enhanced glove sparking with a surge of energy. "I can feel the power within these artifacts, and they call to mine unique Asgardian essence."

Albedo raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to inspect the modifications. "Azmuth, what exactly did you do?" he asked, glancing at the Galvan.

Azmuth straightened, his voice calm and precise. "Thor's equipment was already remarkable, tied intrinsically to his unique Asgardian physiology. However, Galvanian technology can detect and amplify latent energies within beings of unique origin. Thor's godly essence was being bound and suppressed by external magical forces, but we designed these enhancements to bypass that suppression."

Thor's eyes gleamed with a newfound strength. "Bypassing the binding magic hath granted me access to mine own power once more. Not merely what was stripped from me, but what lies within me still. It is… invigorating."

Albedo crossed his arms, impressed despite himself. "So, the armor doesn't just give him back what he lost—it amplifies his natural power?"

"Precisely," Azmuth confirmed. "While we cannot undo the magical binding itself, these enhancements allow Thor to channel his innate strength and unique Asgardian physiology. Combined with his equipment, he is now capable of far more than he was before."

Thor smirked, his voice brimming with confidence. "The impostor who doth wield Mjolnir shall face the wrath of mine true strength. This I vow."

Albedo tilted his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "I'll admit, it's a good look for you. Let's just hope you don't trip over your own ego with all that extra power."

Thor laughed heartily, clapping Albedo on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble slightly. "Do not fret, friend Albedo. 'Tis not ego but confidence in battle. Together, we shall face the Maker's forces and prevail!"

Albedo rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the flicker of camaraderie he felt. With the Ultimatrix completed and Thor now a force to be reckoned with, their chances of succeeding against The Maker were stronger than ever.

Azmuth stepped forward, his voice cutting through the moment. "We've made significant progress, but the road ahead will be treacherous. The Maker will not take these developments lightly. You must both be prepared for what's to come."

Albedo nodded, his hand brushing the smooth surface of the new Ultimatrix. "Prepared or not, we don't have a choice. The Maker has my team, and he's planning to make an example of them. We're not letting that happen."

Thor tightened his grip on Stormbreaker, his expression growing serious. "Aye. We shall bring justice to those who have suffered under his tyranny. Let us ready ourselves, for the battle draws near."

The weight of their mission loomed over them, but in that moment, Albedo and Thor stood united, their resolve unwavering. The fight against The Maker was far from over, but they were stronger now—both in body and spirit.

Azmuth led Albedo and Thor down a sleek, glowing corridor within the Galvanian station, the hum of advanced technology filling the air. Neither of them questioned where they were headed—Albedo, still adjusting to the weight of the new Ultimatrix on his wrist, and Thor, energized by his newly enhanced gear, simply followed.

They arrived at a large chamber, its walls adorned with countless shimmering lights that seemed to map out the multiverse itself. At the center stood an oddly familiar sight: a towering, glowing Mr. Smoothie stand, complete with a holographic smoothie cup spinning above its roof.

Albedo stopped in his tracks, blinking in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "This is a joke, right? A Mr. Smoothie stand?"

Azmuth didn't bother looking back as he walked toward the stand. "It's more than it appears, Albedo. The Multiverse Traveling Mr. Smoothie is an anchor point for dimensional travel, cleverly disguised to avoid unnecessary attention."

Thor tilted his head, eyeing the structure with both amusement and curiosity. "Truly, thy people have an odd sense of humor."

Albedo rolled his eyes. "Odd? It's ridiculous. This is supposed to be advanced Galvanian technology, not… not fast food!"

Azmuth turned sharply, his expression stern. "Do not underestimate its importance. This stand is what will allow you to safely return to Latveria, bypassing The Maker's surveillance. Now, if you're done mocking it, step forward."

With a reluctant sigh, Albedo moved toward the stand, Thor following closely behind. As they approached, the holographic smoothie cup flickered and disappeared, replaced by a swirling vortex of vibrant energy inside the stand's counter.

"This will transport you directly to Latveria," Azmuth explained, gesturing toward the vortex. "I've modified the gateway to ensure your arrival remains undetected. Time is of the essence, so I suggest you don't linger."

Thor nodded, stepping forward first. "Very well, Azmuth. Thy wisdom hath proven invaluable. We shall not falter."

Albedo hesitated for a moment, glancing at Azmuth. "You sure about this? No surprises waiting on the other side?"

Azmuth gave him a pointed look. "If you truly intend to stop The Maker, you'll need to trust the tools and allies at your disposal. Now go."

With a reluctant nod, Albedo stepped into the vortex beside Thor. The swirling energy enveloped them instantly, pulling them into a kaleidoscope of colors and light. The sensation was disorienting but brief, and within seconds, they found themselves standing on the solid stone floor of Castle Doom's courtyard in Latveria.

The air was crisp, the night sky clear above them. The towering spires of the castle loomed around them, and the faint sound of a welcoming bell echoed in the distance.

Thor adjusted Stormbreaker on his back, taking in their surroundings. "Aye, we hath returned to familiar ground. Doom's fortress remains a bastion of hope."

Albedo smirked faintly, his tension easing slightly. "Hope? Coming from you, that's almost poetic."

The heavy gates of the castle opened, and a small procession of Doombots marched out to greet them. One of the larger Doombots stepped forward, its mechanical voice booming. "Welcome back, Albedo. Welcome back, Thor. Lord Doom awaits you."

"Of course he does," Albedo muttered, brushing past the robot. "Let's not keep him waiting."

As the two headed toward the castle, Albedo glanced down at the Ultimatrix on his wrist, his resolve hardening. The time for planning was over. The battle to save his team—and to bring down The Maker—was about to begin.

Doom turned his attention to Albedo and Thor as they approached, his metallic mask gleaming in the light. "You've returned," Doom said, his voice calm yet commanding. "Good. We were just finalizing the next phase."

Peter was the first to step forward, his expression softening as he saw them. "Albedo, Thor," he said, offering a small smile. "Good to see you two in one piece. We've been hearing a lot about what's been going on."

"Indeed," Tony chimed in, his voice carrying a mix of quiet confidence and playfulness. "You've been busy. The news about Project SMASH and the SHIELD files? That was a solid hit. Looks like we've got ourselves a team now."

Albedo's gaze flicked between the two of them, his expression unreadable for a moment. "So, you're finally ready to fight," he said, his tone neutral. "What changed?"

Peter exchanged a glance with Tony before answering. "The Maker crossed too many lines. The things we've learned… the things he's done… We can't just stand by anymore. It's time we did something."

Tony leaned casually against the edge of the table, his eyes sharp but his tone light. "We've always been better at fixing problems than fighting wars, but this isn't a problem we can patch up. The Maker's rewriting the rules, and if we don't stop him, there won't be a game left to play."

Thor smiled faintly, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Thy decision dost honor thee, young Parker. 'Tis heartening to see thee take up the mantle of responsibility once more."

Albedo turned to Wanda, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And you? What brought you back to the fight?"

Wanda stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "I remember everything now. What he did to me… to my family… to mutants everywhere." Her red aura flared for a moment as she clenched her fists. "The Maker thinks he can play God. He thinks he can control everything. But I won't let him."

Doom raised a hand, commanding their attention. "We stand united now, but make no mistake—The Maker will not fall easily. He knows we are gathering strength, and he will act swiftly to crush us if given the chance. That is why we must move quickly."

Albedo crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think so," he said, drawing the room's attention. "We need a better plan—one that doesn't throw us headfirst into his trap. I still have the files from Nick Fury's bunker, preserved thanks to Azmuth. We can use them."

Tony leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on."

Albedo tapped the Ultimatrix on his wrist, pulling up a projection of the data. "The Maker's execution of my team isn't just about killing them. It's about solidifying his hold on the public and sending a message to anyone who might oppose him. But what if we turn that message against him?"

Peter frowned. "How?"

"We wait until the day of the execution," Albedo explained. "Right when the world is watching, we release Nick Fury's files. All of it—his crimes, his manipulation, the truth about what he's done. While he's scrambling to control the narrative, we strike. The distraction will give us the opening we need to save our allies."

Doom's metallic face turned slightly toward Albedo, considering. "And if The Maker anticipates such a move?"

"That's why we plan for contingencies," Albedo replied. "We don't fight him on his terms. We use the chaos against him. His arrogance will make him underestimate us—he won't expect us to leverage his public image as a weapon."

Wanda nodded slowly, her red aura flickering faintly. "If we expose him, the world might start to see him for what he really is. It could work."

Tony crossed his arms, his gaze thoughtful. "It's risky, but it's clever. And if we're careful, it might just be the edge we need."

Doom stood silent for a moment, his imposing figure dominating the room. Finally, he spoke. "Your plan has merit, Albedo. However, it will require flawless execution. If we fail, The Maker's retaliation will be swift and devastating."

"Then we won't fail," Albedo said firmly. "We don't have a choice. This is our best shot."

Doom nodded. "Very well. We'll proceed with your plan. Prepare yourselves—when the time comes, there will be no room for error."

The team exchanged determined looks, their resolve solidifying as the enormity of the task ahead settled over them. Albedo glanced at the projection of Fury's files, his expression hardening. The Maker's time was running out—and they would ensure he paid for his crimes.