Albedos Redemption

Albedo stood on the rooftop of a half-collapsed warehouse, the wind scraping dust across his boots. He pressed his phone close to his ear, his heart hammering as he listened to Spider-Man's frantic breathing on the other end of the line. The sky was bruised with the clouds of approaching twilight—an unsettling backdrop for the chaos that had become their lives. Tony Stark's betrayal was fresh in everyone's mind, and the city simmered with tension. Even from here, Albedo could see faint plumes of smoke across Manhattan, the aftermath of small-scale skirmishes and villainous opportunism.

Over the phone, Peter's voice quivered, barely restrained panic. "Albedo, please—this is bad. Really bad. I just got word that some of my old rogues are on the move. They're targeting MJ, Aunt May, everyone close to me. With Tony exposing my identity, it's open season."

Albedo swallowed, the memory of Iron Man's public reveal of Spider-Man's civilian name still stinging in his thoughts. The heartbreak on Peter's face when he found out had been enough to send any friend raging into the night. "Slow down," Albedo said gently. "Are Mary Jane and Aunt May safe right now?"

"I'm about to pick MJ up from her job," Peter rushed. "I told her to hide until I got there. But I've lost contact with Aunt May." He let out a shaky breath. "Normally, she volunteers at F.E.A.S.T. around this time. I tried calling her, but no response. Albedo, I'm losing it here."

Albedo's mind churned. F.E.A.S.T. was a charitable shelter and community center dear to Aunt May's heart. If villains were indeed hunting down Spider-Man's loved ones, that place would be an obvious target. "Don't panic," he said firmly, though his own adrenaline spiked. "Focus on MJ. Get her out of danger. I'll find Aunt May. We'll meet up later."

"You sure?" Peter asked. "F.E.A.S.T. is big, and these guys might have heavy muscle. The Sinister Six, Goblin goons—who knows who's joined the hunt. I can't ask you to—"

"Stop." Albedo's voice carried more confidence than he felt. "I can handle it. You trust me, right? Let me do this."

A beat of silence, then Peter exhaled. "Okay. I trust you. You saved her before. Please, Albedo—whatever it takes."

Albedo ended the call, tucking the phone into an inner pocket of his black-and-white vigilante suit. His lips tightened. He pictured Aunt May, a kindhearted woman who'd always had a warm smile for him. In the midst of this chaotic Civil War among heroes, the notion that villains would stoop to targeting her was infuriating. He would protect her or die trying.

He surveyed the rooftops. A swirl of tension sat at the pit of his stomach—villains roving the city, hunting like wolves in the aftermath of Spider-Man's unmasking. Albedo's Ultimatrix glowed faintly under his suit sleeve, reminding him that he had more than cunning up his sleeve. He could transform into any of his alien forms, bringing cosmic power to bear. But the last few encounters with Tony Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. had taught him caution. Collateral damage was the last thing he wanted, especially around a shelter full of vulnerable people.

Sucking in a breath, he tapped a small button on his Proto-Tool Mark II, which extended along his left forearm. The device hummed, scanning local police chatter. Sure enough, dispatches poured in about multiple suspicious vans, break-ins, and sightings of costumed rogues near F.E.A.S.T. That confirmed his worst fears. "Time to move," he muttered. Without hesitation, he launched a grappling hook from the Proto-Tool, swinging off the warehouse rooftop and into the thick of the city, bound for F.E.A.S.T. He prayed he would arrive before it was too late.

F.E.A.S.T. (Food, Emergency Aid, Shelter, Training) was a haven in the heart of a struggling neighborhood—an old building re-purposed into a bright, welcoming center that served free meals, provided homeless outreach, and offered job training. Aunt May had volunteered here for years, helping countless souls find a meal and a kind word. Albedo arrived on the adjacent rooftop to find that half the block was unnaturally quiet, as if the usual bustle of foot traffic had vanished. Lights flickered ominously in the street lamps.

He peered over the roof's edge. His stomach knotted. The front entrance of F.E.A.S.T. stood with its doors pried open, the glass shattered. Even from this distance, he could see faint flashes of light inside—like bursts of energy or muzzle flashes. Alarm bells faintly echoed. Civilians scurried out of side exits, some stumbling, and others shouting about masked attackers.

A woman in tattered clothes sprinted onto the street, screaming, "They're inside! They're tearing the place apart!" Then she ducked behind a parked car, sobbing. Albedo clenched his fists. They'd made it inside, all right.

He fired a grappling line, descending swiftly to the sidewalk. The battered door squeaked under his weight as he entered. The reception area, usually bright with posters about job fairs and meal schedules, lay in chaos: upturned tables, scattered chairs, bullet holes in the walls. Albedo crouched behind a toppled desk, scanning for threats. The stench of burnt electronics and fear-laced sweat permeated the air.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Someone walked down the hall ahead—a hulking figure with a monstrous scorpion tail swishing behind him. Mac Gargan. The Scorpion. One of Spider-Man's older enemies. He paused to smash an office door with his tail, apparently searching for something—or someone. Possibly Aunt May.

Albedo's heart pounded. The presence of Scorpion alone was bad. If there were more villains lurking about, rescuing Aunt May would be no small task. He inhaled, steeling himself, and tapped the Ultimatrix dial under his sleeve, flicking through possible forms. He paused on Big Chill, then Diamondhead, unsure which would be best. He resolved to stay in human form for the moment—his watch drew attention, and stealth might serve him better. He readied the Proto-Tool baton in a low-power setting, aiming for quick incapacitation.

Scorpion, apparently hearing Albedo's movements, turned his head and sneered. "Who's there? Show yourself!" That tail whipped around with lethal speed, slamming a half-collapsed door.

Albedo mustered a calm voice. "Mac Gargan. Looking for someone?" He stepped out from behind the desk, baton crackling.

Scorpion grinned, jagged teeth glinting under overhead fluorescents. "Well, look who decided to show up. 'Grey Hero,' right? We've seen you running around with Spider-Man. The boss gave me a tip: This is the place to find the old lady. Figured I'd snag me a hostage."

Albedo's jaw tightened. "You're out of your league, Scorpion. Last chance to walk away."

The villain cackled, barbed tail twitching. "Please. Tony's got you pegged as a criminal. Means you got no back-up from the law. So step aside, hero, and let me find Parker's old lady. Or you can die."

Albedo shot forward, baton raised. "Wrong answer." He swung at Scorpion's midsection. The villain's tail snapped up to intercept, sparks flying as baton met chitinous metal. Albedo pivoted, hooking the baton under the tail to twist it aside. But Scorpion's enhanced strength shoved him back, Albedo's boots skidding on the tiled floor.

"Think you can handle me alone, fool?" Scorpion snarled, launching a punch. Albedo ducked, hooking a foot behind the villain's ankle. Scorpion stumbled but recovered with a vicious tail strike. Albedo dived, the tail smashing a chunk of plaster from the wall behind him. Debris rained down.

As they exchanged blows, Albedo glimpsed movement further down the corridor—someone else. The Vulture, perhaps, or Shocker. He couldn't be sure, but it was a second threat. Great. This place must have become a nest of Spidey's rogues. They likely spread out to find Aunt May. Albedo's pulse quickened. Time was short.

He kicked Scorpion's legs out, then bashed him with the baton. Sparks danced across the villain's green armor, forcing him to roar in pain. Seizing the opening, Albedo jammed the baton at the base of Scorpion's helmet, unleashing a short-range stun. Scorpion convulsed, tail thrashing wildly, then collapsed. Albedo exhaled, adrenaline pounding. One down.

His phone vibrated with an incoming call—probably Peter, checking in. No time to answer. He clipped the baton back to his gauntlet, eyes scanning the hallway. "Aunt May?" he called, voice echoing. "If you can hear me, call out!" Silence answered, save for distant crashes. He moved forward, stepping over Scorpion's unconscious form.

Around the corner, he spotted a new wave of destruction: bullet holes riddling the ceiling, and scattered donation boxes. The smell of stale coffee mixed with acrid smoke. He clenched his jaw. Another figure loomed ahead, rummaging through the supply closet. The Rhino—massive, gray skin-like armor plating, rummaging angrily. "Where is the old bag?" Rhino muttered, tossing aside shelves of canned goods. "I want to see the look on Spider-Man's face when I stomp his aunt into dust!"

Albedo's stomach churned. The brutality, the cruelty—these villains had no moral limit. He had to end this quickly. This time, he pressed the Ultimatrix dial. A swirl of red encompassed him, shifting him into Humungousaur—a towering, reptilian juggernaut nearly as large as Rhino. The hallway walls groaned under his weight. The transformation's roar echoed, making Rhino jerk upright.

The Rhino blinked. "What the—? You're that shapeshifter, aren't you? Perfect. I could use a big punching bag."

Humungousaur-Albedo snorted, tail thrashing behind him. "You want a fight, Rhino? Let's take it outside." He lunged, slamming a meaty fist into Rhino's chest plate. The impact rattled the entire corridor. Rhino stumbled, bellowing in rage, then charged with unstoppable force. Albedo braced, arms locking with Rhino's horns. The floor tiles cracked under the pressure of two massive brutes colliding.

"Graaah!" Rhino roared, hoisting Albedo off his feet momentarily. Albedo gritted his fanged jaw, grabbing Rhino's shoulders, and pivoted. They crashed through a set of double doors into a large cafeteria area. Metal tables flipped, chairs went flying. People had already evacuated, leaving the space empty except for the swirling dust and flickering lights.

Albedo shoved Rhino backward, staggering him. "You're not hurting Aunt May or anyone else today." A swift punch landed on Rhino's jaw. The villain responded with a headbutt that rocked Albedo's stance. Pain flared, but Humungousaur's thick hide absorbed most of it. They circled each other, trading heavy blows that shook the building.

At last, Albedo capitalized on Rhino's single-minded charge. He sidestepped, hooked an arm under Rhino's, and lifted him bodily, slamming him onto a reinforced table with a deafening crash. The table collapsed. Rhino groaned, stunned. Albedo quickly hammered another powerful punch into Rhino's helmet. The massive villain's eyes rolled back, and he slumped, out cold.

Humungousaur panted, scanning the cafeteria. Two villains down, at least two more to go if his guess about that second figure was correct. Albedo shrank back to his normal form with a swirl of red energy, feeling a wave of exhaustion. Even short bursts of heavy transformations took a toll. He had to find Aunt May quickly before more rogues converged.

He rushed deeper into F.E.A.S.T., searching offices, kitchens, the common areas. Debris littered every corner. The few staff or volunteers he encountered hurried past, seeking the exits. Eventually, he found a trembling janitor hiding behind a supply shelf. "Aunt May Parker," Albedo said, kneeling. "Have you seen her?"

The janitor, eyes wide with fear, stammered, "S-she was in the back—helping in the storage room. But some guys in masks stormed through. I think she ran toward the cafeteria with them chasing her."

Albedo swallowed. "Thank you. Get to safety." He bolted back the way he'd come, scanning side corridors for a hidden route Aunt May might have taken. If she ran from one wave of villains to avoid them, she might have ended up cornered.

A flicker of green smoke drifted across the corridor, and he froze. Green smoke. Mysterio? No—the color was slightly off. As he approached, the smoke thickened, swirling into illusions of crawling spiders and laughing faces. "Chameleon or Mysterio?" he wondered, heart thudding. Spider-Man had a variety of rogues who played with illusions. The swirling haze parted to reveal none other than Mysterio, wearing that trademark fishbowl helmet, cape billowing as he conjured holographic nightmares.

Albedo rolled his eyes, baton ready. "Seriously?"

"Welcome to my personal fun house," Mysterio said, swirling illusions of monstrous, elongated spider-limbs scraping the walls. "You want Parker's old lady? Try your luck. She's mine to trade. Kingpin pays well for a prime hostage."

Albedo's jaw clenched. "Where is she?"

Mysterio cackled. "Close enough to hear you scream if you cross me."

Not in the mood for illusions, Albedo lunged. Mysterio flicked a wrist, and a horde of snarling illusions lunged forth—monstrous dogs, drooling nightmares, each seeming tangible. Albedo knew better; he'd faced illusions before. Yet the illusions could still pack an electronic or chemical sting if Mysterio had upgraded his tech. He dodged the first wave, baton sizzling. One dog-phantom lunged, passing right through him but leaving a shock that numbed his arm briefly. So they had partial energy fields.

He grunted, focusing on Mysterio's real body. The illusions parted enough for him to see the fishbowl figure stepping back. Albedo hurled the baton as a short-range projectile. Mysterio deflected it with a swirling staff.

"Not so fast," Mysterio crowed, pressing a button on his gauntlet. The illusions shimmered, intensifying. The hallway bent in Albedo's vision, swirling with fractal patterns. A wave of vertigo slammed him. He stumbled, struggling to keep focus. His sense of direction twisted. Was he even in the same hallway anymore?

"W-woah," Albedo muttered, clamping a hand over his eyes. Hallucinogenic illusions threatened to bury him. He realized that in this compromised mental state, he needed a form immune to illusions. Possibly Echo Echo or Grey Matter, but illusions could still disrupt them. Or he could revert to a form with powerful senses to pierce illusions—like Big Chill's thermal vision or Diamondhead's reflective body.

He fumbled for the Ultimatrix, pressing it. Red energy flared, giving him just enough clarity to select Diamondhead again. The shift rippled through him. A wave of crystalline solidity anchored him. His new gem-like eyes seemed less prone to illusions. The swirling hallway stabilized slightly—he could see fragments of illusions as shimmering overlays, but they no longer overwhelmed him.

Mysterio's illusions parted, revealing the real figure. Albedo surged forward, crystal fists pummeling the ground. Shockwaves rolled down the hallway, cracking illusions as Mysterio shrieked. He scrambled backward, trying to cloak himself in more smoke. Diamondhead smashed a wall to create a chunk of concrete, then hurled it. Mysterio dodged, but the impact forced him to drop the staff that projected illusions.

With illusions flickering, Mysterio brandished a small energy sidearm. "Stay back! I'll—"

Albedo lunged, Diamondhead's arm forming a sharp spike. He aimed low, avoiding lethal force. The spike shattered the energy pistol. Mysterio yelped and fell back, arms raised. Albedo backhanded him with a measured blow, sending him crashing into a pile of crates. The fishbowl cracked. Mysterio slumped, illusions fizzling out.

Albedo stood over him, chest heaving. "No more illusions." He glanced around, illusions gone. The corridor returned to normal, revealing scattered crates, spilled supplies. And there—under a half-collapsed utility shelf, a small figure huddled.

"Aunt May!" Albedo exclaimed, voice deep in Diamondhead form. He canceled the transformation, shrinking back to normal. The Ultimatrix's red swirl vanished, leaving him panting, sweat rolling down his temples. He scrambled over fallen crates, heart pounding.

Aunt May peered up at him, eyes wide and terrified. "A-Albedo? Is that you?" She recognized his black-and-white suit, though maybe not his face fully. She'd seen him only once or twice in partial vigilante gear, but she knew he was a friend.

He carefully lifted the metal shelving off her. "Yes, it's me. I'm a friend of Peter's, remember? I'm here to get you out." She nodded, tears welling. "Are you hurt?"

Her voice trembled. "My ankle… twisted it while running from those monsters." She tried to stand, wincing.

Albedo gently supported her. "We'll get that taken care of. But we need to leave, now."

Aunt May nodded, wincing with each step. "Thank you, dear. Spider-Man…er, Peter…he asked me to keep volunteering, but after that broadcast, I feared something like this could happen."

Albedo's chest tightened. "It's not your fault. Let's get you somewhere safe." He took a step, scanning for more villains. The corridor was silent now, Mysterio and Rhino subdued behind them, Scorpion as well. But who else might lurk around the building?

"No time to check," he muttered to himself. He slipped an arm under Aunt May, helping her limp toward the exit. She leaned on him, face pale but determined. "You're so brave, May," Albedo whispered. She managed a tiny, grateful nod.

They reached the side door leading to the staff parking lot, stepping into the fading light. Sirens wailed in the distance. Albedo's plan was to get Aunt May to a safe house or meet with Peter. But fate had other plans.

A shrill hum of repulsors cut through the evening air, sending a jolt of dread through Albedo's spine. Tony Stark—Iron Man—descended from above, flanked by a squad of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in tactical gear. Their rifles glinted under the harsh security lights. Albedo cursed under his breath, shifting Aunt May's weight behind him protectively.

Iron Man's voice, amplified through external speakers, reverberated: "Albedo, stand down. By order of S.H.I.E.L.D., you are under arrest. Hand over Aunt May Parker. She's a potential witness in an ongoing criminal investigation."

Albedo's blood boiled. "Witness? She's a victim, Tony. Your system can't protect her from these maniacs. You'd just use her as leverage against Peter."

Tony hovered, faceplate down but presumably seething behind it. "Don't make this harder. We know you fought multiple rogues inside. We have the right to take you both in for questioning. We can keep her in protective custody."

Albedo's voice quivered with anger. "Your 'protective custody' is a joke. You want me locked away, too. I know what you did to Peter."

Aunt May clung to Albedo's arm, eyes shining with fear. "Please, Mr. Stark, just let us go. I—I haven't done anything wrong."

Tony's posture stiffened. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we can't let you be used as a bargaining chip by your nephew or any criminals. This is for your own safety."

Albedo glared. "You call your forced detentions 'safety'? I see right through you, Tony. Enough. We're leaving." He gently guided Aunt May behind him, stepping backward toward a side gate.

A line of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents formed, rifles raised. Tony's voice rumbled, "Albedo, don't do this. Comply, or we'll use force."

Albedo clenched his fists, the Ultimatrix shimmering under his sleeve. "You leave me no choice." He flicked his gaze around, searching for a route out. The presence of Aunt May complicated everything. He couldn't simply transform into XLR8 and run at supersonic speeds with her in tow without harming her. He needed a more balanced approach.

Tony soared closer, repulsors aimed. "Stand. Down."

Albedo braced himself. "Then come and get me." He twisted the Ultimatrix dial, selecting a form that offered both defense and flight. Big Chill. The transformation flared, turning him into the eerie, moth-like creature with intangibility. Aunt May gasped softly, but Albedo gently wrapped his intangible wings around her, hoping to carry her through any obstacles.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent fired a stun shot. Albedo phased, letting the bolt pass harmlessly. He rose into the air, arms wrapped around Aunt May. She clung to him, trembling. Tony's eyes flared behind the faceplate. "Agents, target them with intangible disruptors. Now!"

Several troopers withdrew special rifles. Albedo recognized them as a variant of the intangible-blocking net that Tony had once used on him. He cursed. He soared upward, intangible, but the troopers fired bursts of electromagnetic pulses that crackled in the air. One pulse grazed Albedo's wings, sending a jolt of pain. He nearly dropped Aunt May. She screamed, clutching at his chest.

Iron Man seized the opening, rocketing forward to slam a repulsor blast into Albedo's flank. The impact flung them sideways. Albedo's intangible form flickered. He crashed into the side of a dumpster behind F.E.A.S.T., wings splaying. Aunt May cried out in pain, though Albedo had managed to partially shield her.

Ringing in his ears, Albedo tried to gather himself. He forced intangible mode again, but Tony rained more repulsor blasts down. The dumpster crumpled under repeated hits. The stench of scorched metal and garbage burned Albedo's nostrils. He needed to transform into something sturdier, but then Aunt May might be at risk from the raw power.

Just as Tony closed in, a new figure emerged from the shadows—a thin, lethal silhouette with a cold grin: Bullseye. Dressed in dark combat attire, a sniper rifle slung across his back, he held a smaller pistol in hand. Albedo's heart lurched. What was Bullseye doing here? The Kingpin must have hired him, just like the other villains. The city was truly a warzone of opportunists.

"Mind if I join the party?" Bullseye sneered. "Got paid good money to put a bullet in that Parker lady. Let's see who coughs up more—Stark or Kingpin."

Tony pivoted, voice echoing. "Bullseye? Stand down. This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation. We don't need mercenaries."

Bullseye laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm not on your payroll. She's worth a fortune to Kingpin." Without warning, he fired a shot at Albedo, who dodged intangible at the last second. The bullet pinged off the dumpster, dangerously close to Aunt May's head. She shrieked, tears streaming.

Tony cursed. "Agents, subdue Bullseye."

Bullseye smirked, tossing a throwing knife that sliced the trigger hand of a trooper. The trooper yelped, dropping his rifle. "This city's mine for the taking," Bullseye crowed. He leveled the pistol at Aunt May again. Albedo recognized that Tony and the troopers were momentarily caught off-guard, uncertain whether to prioritize capturing Albedo or stopping Bullseye.

In that second of confusion, Albedo made a desperate move. He reverted from Big Chill to normal form, grabbed Aunt May by the waist, and slammed the Ultimatrix dial to XLR8—the speed-based alien. Red light flared, transforming him into a sleek, blue, raptor-like creature with a helmeted head. The world slowed to a crawl around him.

He dashed from behind the dumpster, bullets creeping by like drifting bubbles in a dream. Aunt May was jostled, but Albedo tried to cradle her gently, using minimal g-forces. He zoomed across the lot, weaving between troopers and a startled Tony. The intangible disruptors fired into empty space, far behind them.

But Bullseye, with inhuman accuracy, snapped off a shot even in that split second. The bullet curved in a near-impossible trajectory. Albedo, in XLR8 mode, saw it, but it was too fast—he was cradling Aunt May, reducing his ability to dodge. The bullet grazed her side, ripping a bloom of blood. Time sped up as Albedo gasped, forcing a new angle, but too late.

Aunt May let out a cry of pain, hand flying to her side. Crimson stained her blouse. Albedo's stomach twisted. He accelerated further, pushing XLR8's speed to the limit, racing out of the F.E.A.S.T. lot and down the street. Tony and the troopers receded behind them, distant shouts trailing off.

Blocks away, Albedo found himself near an abandoned diner, its neon sign flickering. He slowed, skidding on the asphalt. Aunt May sagged in his arms, blood seeping between her fingers. "No, no, no," Albedo whispered, heart clenching. He canceled XLR8, reverting to normal form, carefully lowering Aunt May to the ground. She was conscious but trembling, face pale, breath ragged.

"I'm sorry," Albedo choked, hands fumbling in a small pouch for basic first-aid. "I should have protected you better."

Aunt May's voice wavered. "D-don't blame yourself. You… you did all you could." She winced, tears at the corners of her eyes. "I just… want to see Peter."

Albedo pressed gauze to the wound. Blood kept soaking through. This was beyond his rudimentary first-aid knowledge. He glanced around, seeing lights from a nearby intersection. "We need a hospital." But that was risky—Tony might intercept them. Or a vengeful Bullseye might. He had no choice. Aunt May's life outweighed everything.

A battered taxi sat idle on the curb, the driver apparently absent. Albedo scrambled to its door—unlocked. Possibly stolen or abandoned in the chaos. He coaxed Aunt May into the back seat, kneeling beside her as she whimpered in pain. "Hold on, May," he said, tying a makeshift bandage. "We'll get you to the hospital. I promise."

He rushed to the driver's seat, hot-wired the engine with the skill he'd gleaned from old infiltration training. The engine sputtered, roared to life. With trembling hands, Albedo pressed the accelerator, speeding through empty streets. Sirens wailed in the distance, but he avoided main roads. Aunt May's labored breathing tore at his heart.

"Stay with me," he called over his shoulder, weaving through traffic lights. "You're strong, May. You'll pull through."

She groaned, "Peter… he… needs me. Please… tell him…" Her words trailed into ragged coughing. Blood seeped from between her fingers, staining the seat. Albedo clenched the steering wheel, tears stinging his eyes.

It felt like an eternity, but in reality was just minutes before the looming facade of the nearest hospital rose ahead. Albedo screeched to a stop at the emergency entrance. Nurses and orderlies rushed out, seeing the bullet wound victim. Albedo helped them lift Aunt May onto a gurney. She drifted between consciousness and delirium, murmuring Peter's name.

The head nurse yelled for immediate surgery, but paused to glare at Albedo's black-and-white vigilante suit. "Are you…some costumed guy? Did you do this?"

Albedo's eyes burned. "No. She was shot by a villain. She's Spider-Man's aunt." He swallowed thickly. "Please help her."

The nurse's brow furrowed. "We'll do everything we can." Then they whisked Aunt May inside, leaving Albedo standing in the bustling chaos of the ER bay. He stared at the hospital doors, blood pounding in his ears. The fear that he might lose Aunt May consumed him. He slid to a crouch, burying his face in his hands. He'd risked everything to protect her, only for Bullseye to land that shot.

A security guard tapped him on the shoulder, eyes wary. "Hey, you can't just— You're a vigilante, right? We don't want trouble here."

Albedo stood, wiping tears. "I'm not here to cause trouble. Just… checking on her condition."

The guard softened, seeing the despair in Albedo's face. "Fine. But no fights in the hospital. Capisce?"

Albedo nodded, stepping inside the waiting room. The sterile corridors hummed with fluorescent lights. He sank into a plastic chair, phone in hand. Peter needed to know. But how would he handle this heartbreak?

Taking a trembling breath, Albedo dialed Peter's number. It rang, rang. No answer. He tried again. On the third attempt, Peter picked up, breathless. "Albedo? I've got MJ. Are you at the rendezvous?"

Albedo's throat tightened. "No. It's Aunt May—she's been shot. I'm at Midtown Memorial Hospital. She's—" He couldn't finish the sentence.

Peter's gasp shredded the silence. "Shot? How bad?"

"Serious," Albedo forced out. "They rushed her into surgery. I—I'm so sorry. Tony and Bullseye, it was chaos. She was hit—"

Peter's anguished cry nearly shattered Albedo's composure. "Oh God… oh God… I'm on my way. MJ's with me, we'll be there in minutes. Don't let them move her. Don't let S.H.I.E.L.D. near her."

"I'll do my best," Albedo said. The line cut. He clenched the phone, tears threatening again. The dull hum of hospital waiting area pressed on him, a testament to how powerless he felt.

Minutes dripped by like hours. He paced the hallway, ignoring the occasional strange look from staff and visitors. Eventually, the doors slid open, and Peter burst in, wearing street clothes with a hoodie pulled over his face. Mary Jane clung to his arm, eyes red. The moment Peter saw Albedo in the corridor, he rushed over, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Where is she? Is she alive?"

Albedo swallowed. "They took her to surgery. She lost a lot of blood, but the doctors seemed determined. She's fighting."

Peter's eyes brimmed with tears. Mary Jane's lip quivered. "My God," she whispered, hugging Peter's arm tight.

A nurse emerged from behind the double doors, scanning the waiting area. "Peter… Parker? The staff asked if a Peter Parker was here."

Peter tensed, face pale. He gave a slight nod. "That's me. H-how is she?"

The nurse motioned them aside. "She's in critical condition, bullet wound in the abdomen. The surgeons are working to stabilize her now. We'll let you know as soon as we have an update."

Mary Jane covered her mouth, tears streaming. Peter exhaled shakily, voice raw. "Thank you. Please, do everything."

The nurse nodded, then retreated. Peter turned to Albedo, guilt and rage battling in his eyes. "This is all because of Tony's reveal. All because of— Dammit." He slammed a fist against the wall, ignoring the stares from passersby. Mary Jane clung to him, silent sobs racking her shoulders.

Albedo gently placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Bullseye pulled the trigger. Kingpin likely orchestrated it. Tony's reveal made it easy for them. But we'll get justice. Right now, we focus on Aunt May."

Peter's eyes were red, but he nodded. Mary Jane looked up, voice quivering. "They can't just get away with this… can they?"

Albedo's jaw tightened. "No, we'll hold them accountable. But first, let's keep May safe. We have to ensure S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't swoop in and 'detain' her as a witness."

Peter scowled. "They'd do it in a heartbeat if they thought it'd force me to register or something. Bastards."

They settled into the waiting area, time passing in excruciating increments. Mary Jane dozed fitfully on a chair, leaning against Peter. Albedo stood guard, ignoring the staff's wary glances. He quietly texted Captain America and the Resistance, explaining the situation. He requested discrete watchers around the hospital perimeter. They needed to be sure no more assassins or Tony's troopers tried to snatch Aunt May.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor stepped out, pale scrubs speckled with blood. He approached Peter. "She made it through surgery. The bullet damage was serious. We've repaired what we can, but… the next 24 hours are critical."

Peter's knees nearly buckled. Albedo caught him, guiding him to a seat. Mary Jane wept softly, clinging to Peter's hand. "Can we see her?" she asked.

The doctor hesitated. "Only briefly. She's in ICU." He led them through the sterile corridors, watchers casting sideways glances at the vigilante-suited Albedo. They reached a small ICU room, machines beeping steadily. Aunt May lay there, pale and frail, tubes running from her arms. Peter's eyes brimmed with tears as he approached, gently brushing a hand across her forehead. Mary Jane stood beside him, tears spilling.

Albedo lingered at the door, giving them space. Watching them stand vigil over Aunt May hammered home the cruelty of this war. An innocent woman, caught in the crossfire of villainous opportunism and political overreach. He clenched his fists, anger roiling. If Tony had one shred of decency, he'd leave them alone to heal.

That hope was short-lived. Less than an hour later, as Albedo and Peter hovered near Aunt May's bed, commotion erupted outside the ICU. Albedo tensed, stepping into the corridor. Hospital staff parted, revealing none other than Tony Stark, wearing part of his Iron Man armor—the torso and gauntlets, faceplate retracted—and accompanied by two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Peter, hearing the noise, turned from the doorway. His face darkened with fury. Mary Jane clutched his arm, trembling. "You," Peter spat.

Tony's gaze flicked past Albedo to see Aunt May's unconscious form. He raised both hands in what might have been a conciliatory gesture. "Peter, I'm sorry for what happened—"

"Shut up." Peter's voice was ice. He stepped forward, fists trembling. "Because of you, my aunt was exposed. Because of you, Bullseye came hunting us. She's fighting for her life, and you have the gall to show your face here?"

Tony's expression flickered with guilt. "I never intended— Look, I came to offer help. S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide security, cover her medical costs. We can keep her safe—"

Albedo snarled, standing in Tony's path. "Safe? You call that safe? Your forced registration, your exposure of Peter's identity—this is the result. Back off, Stark."

Tony's face twisted in regret and frustration. "I made decisions based on the law, the demands of public safety—"

Peter cut him off, voice cracking with sorrow. "Don't. You did this for your own control, for your precious illusions of order. You humiliated me, endangered my family. Look at May now!" He gestured to the hospital bed, eyes brimming with tears. "I don't want your help, or your 'protection,' or your hush money."

Tony hesitated, stepping closer. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents hovered behind him, uncertain. "Peter, please. I only want—"

"Leave," Peter hissed. Each syllable dripped with raw pain. "I'm done with you. If you come near May again, I'll… I'll do whatever it takes to protect her."

Mary Jane stood behind Peter, face stained with tears, giving Tony a glare that confirmed her agreement. Albedo remained silent, letting Peter speak for himself. There was no bridging this chasm now.

Tony bowed his head, tension lining his face. He motioned for the agents to step back. "Peter… I truly am sorry." Then he turned, departing in silence, the hospital staff clearing a path. The faint whine of repulsors fading down the corridor signaled Tony's exit.

Peter sucked in a trembling breath, tears finally spilling. "Bastard," he whispered, hugging Mary Jane tight. Albedo stood by, fists unclenching. No more words needed to be said. Tony Stark's presence had only deepened the wound.

They returned to Aunt May's side, the beep of her heart monitor the only anchor in a swirling sea of grief and rage. Albedo laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. "We'll stay here, keep watch. If any villain or S.H.I.E.L.D. tries something, we'll stop them."

Peter nodded, eyes full of anguish. "Thank you. I won't let her suffer another second because of me."

Mary Jane gently dabbed at Aunt May's forehead, voice quavering. "She's strong. She'll pull through. She has to."

Albedo stood guard by the door, thinking of the lines drawn in the hero community, the unstoppable tide of conflict Tony had unleashed. Aunt May's fate loomed like a question mark over them all. If she survived, perhaps Peter and Albedo would find renewed resolve to fight the system. If she died, the cost of this civil war would be too high to ever forgive.

He recalled the vow he'd made when first stepping into this dimension: to seek redemption, to protect people rather than endanger them. Right now, protecting Aunt May and comforting Peter felt like the only righteous cause in a world gone mad. Tomorrow would bring new battles. Tonight, they would stand vigil, hoping the small flame of life in that hospital bed survived the storm.

End of Chapter 7