Albedos Redemption

Albedo stood in the middle of the half-renovated warehouse, the late morning sunlight streaming through high windows thick with dust motes. He dragged the back of his wrist across his brow, wiping away a light sheen of sweat. The place was big—larger than anything he or Peter had ever worked in before. An echo lingered with each step, a testament to the empty, cavernous interior. But as vacant as it was, the potential shimmered in Albedo's mind. With a bit of work, it would become the foundation of the new enterprise he and Peter intended to build, a technology venture that could change their futures and maybe the world's.

Peter Parker crouched near an old wooden table, fiddling with some prototype web-fluid canisters. He'd borrowed the design from his usual Spider-Man gear, planning to adapt it as a demonstration of the kind of reconfigurable engineering they might offer customers. Back straightening, he pushed aside a curly strand of hair from his forehead, scanning the warehouse for a place to set up a rudimentary workstation. "If we move that stack of pallets," Peter suggested, pointing toward a disorganized pile near the far wall, "we can put the assembly bench behind it. I'm thinking we eventually cordon off a few smaller rooms for lab space once we can afford it."

Albedo nodded, resting his hands on his hips. "I agree. For now, we just need a functional corner: a desk, a bench, some storage. Later we can rewire the entire building. Did you see the breaker box? It's old, but we can upgrade. That might cost a bit, though. We'll have to keep finances tight until we land some initial clients."

Peter stepped over, turning the canister in his gloved hand—a new version of the costume glove he used for basic tasks, though it looked worn from repeated modifications. "I still can't believe we're doing this," he admitted quietly. "A month ago, I was in free fall—no job, Aunt May's health in crisis, half the city hating me. Now… we have a real shot at building something good."

Albedo gave him a reassuring half-smile. "We promised we'd find a way to live beyond the rubble the Civil War left behind. This is it—our chance to help people, earn a living, and keep an eye on the big picture. You, me, maybe some new hires if we can afford them in the next year or two." A wave of optimism flickered in his voice, though he kept it measured. The scars of recent months still lingered.

The overhead door rolled open at that moment, squeaking on its old track. Both men turned to see a figure step into the warehouse. His broad form cast a long shadow across the dusty concrete, the iconic round shield slung over his back. Captain America paused at the threshold, letting the door clang shut behind him. Dust danced in the beams of sunlight, stirred by the slight breeze of the door's movement.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," Steve Rogers said, voice warm. He gave a nod of greeting. "I heard you two might be here, working on your new project. Thought I'd drop by, see how it's going."

Peter grinned widely, stepping forward. "Cap! You're always welcome." A flicker of gratitude underlined his words. For all the disillusionment with Tony Stark and Reed, Peter's esteem for Captain America remained unshaken. "We're just… well, as you can see, starting from scratch."

Albedo also approached, extending a hand. He and Steve clasped forearms, a silent understanding that they'd fought side by side—and occasionally opposed Tony's forces—through the war's bleakest moments. "Thanks for coming. We're basically turning an empty shell into a functioning tech lab, so any moral support helps."

Cap set his shield aside, propping it gently against a crate. "I'm no electrician, but I can help you move some of these heavy things around. And I wanted to check on you both, see how you're settling in post-Civil War. It's a relief to see you building something constructive."

Peter exhaled, glancing around the warehouse's vast interior. "Constructive is a good word, yeah. We had enough destruction. Now, we're forging something new. Not sure it'll be huge or revolutionary, but it's ours."

Albedo grinned slightly. "And it keeps us busy in a more positive way than, say, breaking into negative-zone prisons." He cast a sidelong look at Peter, recalling that intense night. "Besides, we want to build a future that's not overshadowed by old grudges."

Steve's face softened into an approving smile. "That's exactly what I hoped to find. Everywhere I look lately, I see folks weighed down by bitterness—Tony, Reed, half the Avengers. They're all so focused on big visions of tomorrow that they forget to look at the present. Or they're stuck in regrets of the past. But seeing you two here… it's a reminder that good people can still move forward without sacrificing what matters now."

Albedo gestured for Steve to follow him deeper into the space, weaving around the piles of lumber, scattered tools, and half-assembled metal shelves. "We plan to handle small engineering contracts at first—maybe specialized components for humanitarian or medical devices. Later, we can expand. If we manage to snag a real investor or even some philanthropic backing… well, the sky's the limit. Tony's got a stranglehold on commercial hero-tech, but there's room for an alternative."

Peter nodded. "We want to use advanced materials, maybe some Galvan-based knowledge Albedo has, to create helpful inventions. Not giant doomsday suits or registration-laced gear. Just… real solutions for everyday crises."

Cap's gaze swept the warehouse, noticing the taped outlines on the floor where they planned to construct partition walls. "It's a noble dream. Just be careful not to lose yourselves in the dream. I saw Tony and Reed fixate so hard on shaping the future that they lost sight of the human cost. They ended up rationalizing monstrous things because they believed it was for a greater tomorrow."

Albedo's brow furrowed. "I promise we'll keep grounded. We've seen enough damage from that mindset."

Peter's face tinged with a hint of old anger. "After what Aunt May went through, I'm not about to compromise on personal well-being or morals, no matter how great the tech might be."

Steve nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Good. I don't want to see you become jaded or let your past trauma push you into extremes." He gestured to a set of crates. "Now, how about I help you move some heavier items? I'm still a fair bit stronger than your average Joe."

They spent the next half hour rearranging the warehouse space, Captain America hauling large crates of raw materials to the corners marked for storage while Albedo used the Proto-Tool to measure angles for a makeshift workstation. Peter hammered out a few shelves, carefully aligning them so as not to warp the cheap wood. They worked in comfortable silence, occasionally making small talk about the state of New York, the hero community, and how normal citizens were coping after the meltdown of trust from the Civil War.

Peter eventually asked about how Steve was faring. "I heard there was a push for you to run some new Avengers initiative. Is that true?"

Cap gave a rueful chuckle, hefting a large crate onto a pallet. "Some folks are urging me to gather a new team—less tied to government oversight, more free to do real hero work. But I'm… hesitant. I don't want to create a new wedge or reignite old tensions. For now, I'm focusing on bridging dialogues. Tony's trying to make amends, in his own way. Reed, too."

Albedo offered a noncommittal hum. He recalled that rooftop meeting, that tenuous attempt at reconciliation. "They reached out to me as well, hoping I could connect them with you and other unregistered folks. Not sure how it'll go, but I told them I'd see."

Peter grimaced, setting down his hammer. "I can't help feeling a sour taste, but maybe it's good they're not doubling down on the old mistakes."

Cap nodded. "Let's hope so. Anyway, I'll do my best to keep them honest. No more negative zone prisons or lethal clones."

The conversation lulled as they finished rearranging equipment, the warehouse gradually taking shape: a modest layout with a large open work area, some stacked crates labeled "Future Lab" in Peter's messy scrawl, and a corner devoted to office-like desks where they'd plan finances or talk with potential clients. Albedo's eyebrows rose at the progress, satisfied. They still had a long road to making the space truly viable, but it felt like a start.

They'd just about finished repositioning the last set of shelves when a subtle knock sounded on the wide entrance door. All three men turned. Captain America reached for his shield out of reflex, Albedo tensed slightly, and Peter raised a brow. "Expecting anyone else?" Peter asked, wiping dust from his hands.

Albedo shook his head. "No. Let me check the cameras." He reached for a small handheld device that tied into the minimal security system they'd installed. The feed flickered, showing a group of figures outside, some wearing unmistakable clothing styles that flagged them as mutants. Cloaks, a bit of leather, and a certain iconic silhouette with a visor. Albedo recognized the X-Men from scattered news footage, though he'd never met them in person.

"X-Men," Albedo said quietly, a touch of confusion. "I… wasn't expecting them. They must be here to see you, Peter?"

Peter's eyes widened, flipping up his mask portion out of instinct. "Probably. They've been supportive in the past, but we haven't talked much since the war. Let's let them in?"

Cap nodded. "No sense leaving them outside. They're allies."

Albedo pressed a button, and the door rumbled open. In stepped a small group: Cyclops leading, wearing his trademark visor; Storm with her regal bearing, white hair flowing around her shoulders; a silent Wolverine in a leather jacket, and Jean Grey with a gentle expression. Behind them, a few more X-Men lurked, quietly surveying the warehouse. Their arrival brought a tension of curiosity and caution, though there was no hostility in their posture.

Peter stepped forward, half-smiling. "Hey, Cyclops, Storm… everyone. Welcome to, uh, our future company, I guess?"

Cyclops nodded, scanning the interior with clinical thoroughness. "Spidey," he said, voice measured. "We heard you'd been through hell after the Civil War. We wanted to check on you, see how you're holding up. The X-Men have had our own share of crises; we know how it feels to be on the receiving end of public hostility."

Storm smiled warmly, stepping up. "You disappeared off the grid for a while. Then we heard rumors you were starting something new with Albedo—someone we only know in passing references. We thought it wise to come in person."

Jean Grey's telepathic presence brushed lightly at the edges of the room, an unspoken courtesy not to read minds without permission. "We're glad to see you're safe, Peter," she said softly.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, grateful and a bit surprised. "Thanks. I appreciate you coming. It's been rough, but we're managing. This—" he gestured around "—is kind of our attempt to move forward, build a normal life, do some good. We call it 'normal,' but I guess it's still hero-adjacent."

Albedo gave a polite nod, stepping beside Peter. "I'm Albedo," he introduced himself, offering a handshake. "We haven't met, though I've heard of the X-Men. I admire your fight for mutant rights. That's not easy in a world that sometimes fears difference."

Cyclops took his hand, grip firm but courteous. "We've heard of you—someone from another dimension, once an antagonist, now an ally. That's all we know, but it's good to see you forging a new path."

Storm regarded him with her calm poise, eyes flicking to Captain America. "You have esteemed company. Cap, it's nice to see you again. You look well."

Steve offered a warm smile. "Likewise. I'm just helping them set up shop. Good to see the X-Men in one piece after everything that's happened."

Wolverine grunted from behind them, arms folded. "Heard you whooped Kingpin real good, Web-Head." His gaze pinned Peter. "Rumors say you scared half the Raft with that show. About time that big tub of lard got a real beating."

Peter's cheeks reddened slightly. "Word travels fast. Yeah, I might have gone a bit overboard, but… he crossed a line I couldn't tolerate anymore."

Jean's voice was gentle. "We don't judge you, Peter. We just want you to stay true to yourself. Don't let vengeance consume you."

Peter nodded, exhaling. "I'm keeping it in check. Albedo and my family keep me grounded. Plus, we have other things to focus on now—like building a life that isn't overshadowed by war."

Storm paced a few steps into the warehouse, gazing up at the skylights. "It's a good space. Reminds me of when the X-Men first moved into the old mansion expansions. Fresh potential."

Cyclops turned to Albedo. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you plan to do here? Is it pure tech development, or something that extends to mutant-human relations, hero gear…?"

Albedo considered the question. "We're focusing on advanced technology with practical applications—medical devices, architectural solutions, maybe some safer hero tools. Peter has a knack for chemical engineering, I have certain knowledge from another dimension. We won't be mass-producing weapons or imposing registration requirements, if that's your fear. We want to help, not repeat Tony's mistakes."

Wolverine snorted softly. "Any friend of Parker who's not a jerk might be okay in my book."

Cyclops shot him a mild glare, but Jean chuckled, evidently used to Wolverine's bluntness. "We're all learning to trust new allies again," she said, turning to Albedo. "You can't blame us for being cautious after how many times mutants have been scapegoated."

Albedo lifted his hands in understanding. "I get it. The Civil War might be over, but the scars remain. If we can offer you or your community any technological help—like advanced prosthetics or a better Danger Room system—maybe that's something we can talk about down the line."

Storm's eyes gleamed. "That might be intriguing, especially as we rebuild certain aspects of the mansion's infrastructure. It's… outdated in places." The corners of her mouth quirked, an understated sign of interest.

Jean's gaze flicked to Peter. "What about you, Peter? You okay with a potential collaboration? Or do you just want to keep it small, private?"

Peter shrugged, faintly smiling. "I'm open. I used to compartmentalize everything—hero stuff vs. personal life vs. friends. But if we learned anything from the war, it's that isolation feeds misunderstandings. We can't do everything alone."

Captain America gave a nod of agreement, stepping closer. "Exactly. If we unite under genuine goodwill, maybe we can avoid future disasters. I'm thrilled to see you forging new ties, Albedo, Peter—X-Men. We can be a real community, not a fractious network of suspicious factions."

Cyclops looked around, noticing the bright rectangles of sunlight on the dusty floor, the outlines of where Peter and Albedo planned to build labs or offices. "I'd like to see you succeed. A success story might inspire others who lost faith after the war. Show them that not all heroes are consumed by grudges."

Storm touched a metal beam, feeling the draft from above. "So what can we do to help right now? I see you're already rearranging, setting up. We can help lift or power certain heavy things if you like." She gave a small grin, referencing her ability to manipulate weather or at least generate wind to move some of the dust out.

Peter laughed softly. "I appreciate the offer, though we're just about done with the major rearranging. Unless you want to conjure a mild breeze to blow out decades of dust from the rafters. That might actually help."

Storm's grin grew. "Consider it done." She lifted her hands slightly. The air rippled, a gentle current spiraling upward, coaxing dust and debris out the open skylights. Sunbeams danced in the swirling motes, drifting outside. Within minutes, the entire place felt fresher, air clearing in a way that would've taken hours of manual labor with brooms and fans.

Jean and Cyclops marveled at the difference. Albedo whistled. "Wow, that's definitely better than a vacuum."

Storm lowered her hands. "Glad to be of service. Now it feels less… musty."

Aunt May's voice startled them from behind. "It does indeed," she said softly, stepping in with Mary Jane by her side. The two women had arrived silently, each wearing an intrigued smile. "I heard some new friends arrived?" Aunt May's tone was welcoming despite her frail posture.

Mary Jane, one arm resting protectively over her abdomen (a habit forming after the pregnancy revelation), offered the X-Men a warm greeting. "Hi, I'm Mary Jane Watson-Parker. Good to see more allies dropping by. It's a nice change from the typical unannounced villains or Tony's drones." She laughed lightly, though tension lurked beneath, remembering how often trouble found them.

Jean Grey approached, kindness in her gaze. "Pleasure to meet you both. We're the X-Men, old acquaintances of Peter. He speaks highly of you, Aunt May."

Aunt May's eyes shone with fondness. "He's a sweet boy, always has been. Goodness knows these times have tested him, but… I'm glad he has wonderful people around. You, Captain America, Albedo, all supporting each other."

Mary Jane nodded, feeling a swirl of gratitude. "We appreciate you all checking on us, especially after the Civil War fiasco. We're trying to rebuild, literally and metaphorically." She gestured at the warehouse, then her belly. "Both on the business front and… with the next generation." She smiled a bit shyly.

Jean's eyes lit up. "Congratulations. It's wonderful news."

Storm beamed. "Yes, that's a bright spot we need in these dark times."

Wolverine gave a curt nod, arms crossed, but a flicker of warmth softened his usually gruff demeanor. "Kid'll have some strong genes, that's for sure."

Cyclops placed a hand gently on Mary Jane's shoulder, a gesture of respectful camaraderie. "If the X-Men can help in any way, let us know. I'm sure we'd all want that child to inherit a better world."

Mary Jane's eyes misted. "Thank you. Right now, just… keep us in your thoughts. We're taking it day by day."

Albedo, noticing the sense of communal unity, felt a wave of relief. A short time ago, the hero community was a minefield of mistrust. Now, X-Men, Captain America, Peter's family, and he stood side by side in a dusty old warehouse, forging fragile alliances. Perhaps this was how healing began—through simple gestures of goodwill.

They spent the next hour in companionable conversation, the X-Men occasionally using their powers to assist. Cyclops helped cut some metal beams with precise optic blasts. Storm's gentle breezes cleared more debris. Jean used telekinesis to lift bulky crates into place. Wolverine offered no flashy powers, but with his strength and durability, he moved heavy equipment without complaint. Captain America pitched in, too, while Aunt May and Mary Jane took seats on a bench, offering moral support.

Peter and Albedo explained their business plan to the X-Men in more detail, from developing safer hero gadgets to advanced building materials for emergency shelters. Cyclops seemed impressed, Storm intrigued, and Jean offered suggestions about potential philanthropic grants. Wolverine mostly nodded, occasionally joking that any high-tech gizmos better not blow up his favorite jacket.

In a lull between tasks, Cap stood near a newly cleared corner, wiping sweat from his brow. "You two are doing something important," he said to Albedo and Peter. "Don't underestimate the impact. After civil wars, it's not always the grand speeches that mend communities—it's the grassroots efforts, the willingness to build a new normal."

Albedo accepted a water bottle from Mary Jane, taking a swig. "I just hope we can stay the course, not letting greed or the old war mentalities corrupt us. Reed and Tony want a meeting about bridging things, but I'm cautious. We can't jump back into illusions of unity if they haven't truly changed."

Steve's expression was thoughtful. "Understandable. But keep an open heart. Sometimes people do learn from mistakes. Just ensure you anchor yourself in the present and the people around you. That way, you won't become what Tony and Reed were in the worst moments—obsessed with hypothetical futures at the cost of actual lives."

Peter slipped an arm around Mary Jane's waist, glancing at Aunt May. "We've had enough near-death experiences to value what we have now. That's for sure."

Across the warehouse, Jean Grey finished levitating a crate. She drifted over, brushing hair from her face. "We should probably head back soon. We told the rest of the team we'd only be out for the morning. We left the mansion lightly staffed. But I'm glad we saw you, Peter. We worried that you might be drowning in grief or resentment. Clearly, you're finding a way forward with friends."

Peter nodded, gratitude softening his eyes. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot."

Cyclops and Storm stepped up to make their farewells. Wolverine gave a final grunt, "Let me know if Kingpin tries anything else. I'll be happy to… chat with him." A predatory edge glimmered in his voice, though it receded quickly, replaced by a rare half-smile for Peter. "But you showed him you ain't messing around, so maybe he'll back off."

Captain America escorted the X-Men to the entrance, exchanging a few last pleasantries. They parted ways, the wide roll-up door clattering shut behind them. The hush returned to the warehouse, the dusty beams of sunlight once more the only intrusion on the quiet. Mary Jane sat on a crate, looking a bit tired, stroking her abdomen absently. Aunt May was recounting some old memory about Richard and Mary Parker to Albedo, softly, while Peter listened with affectionate curiosity.

Steve rejoined them after seeing the X-Men off, leaning his shield against a pile of freshly organized tools. "They seem in better spirits than I expected," he commented. "The X-Men have been battered by public hatred for so long, but they're still willing to reach out."

Peter's lips quirked in a small grin. "That's what real heroism is, right? Not letting the world's hatred define you."

Albedo nodded in agreement. "We can all learn from that."

The day wore on, each hour bringing them closer to a functional workspace. They hung temporary lights, tested a portable generator, and aligned a set of metal tables for assembling prototypes. Steve pitched in with unwavering patience, handing tools, lifting heavy boards, occasionally offering a joke to lighten the mood. Mary Jane jotted notes about supply costs. Aunt May dozed intermittently, occasionally waking to share a wise remark. The atmosphere was warm, reminiscent of a makeshift family holiday, even amid the dust and sweat.

By late afternoon, the facility looked dramatically different from the morning's chaos. The open floor plan was somewhat clean, tables were arranged, and they'd pinned a large blueprint to a wall—Peter's sketches of the next phases. Albedo wiped his hands on a rag, stepping back to admire the progress. "It's… not half bad for a day's work."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, though we still need proper walls, a real lab. But it feels like ours, you know? Like we can do real things here."

Captain America perched on a newly assembled stool, arms folded amiably. "I suspect your best days are ahead. Mark my words, one day people will look at this place and see it as the birthplace of something game-changing."

Mary Jane sidled up beside Peter, hooking an arm through his. "That's the hope. Build a stable life for our future child."

Aunt May, stepping carefully across the swept floor, nodded. "And to think how recently we were just surviving day to day. We've come so far."

Albedo's phone buzzed quietly, drawing his attention. He glanced at the screen, brows lifting slightly. Another message from Reed, presumably an update about the prospective meeting with Tony. Albedo sighed, pocketing it. No need to darken the moment. He'd handle it later.

Steve roamed to the blueprint pinned on the wall, eyes flicking over the notes scrawled in multiple colored pens. "So, company name? Did you pick one?"

Peter rubbed his chin. "We toyed with a few ideas. I suggested 'Web & Co.,' but that was obviously not workable." He grinned sheepishly. "Mary Jane proposed something about 'Transcend Tech Solutions,' but we're not set."

Albedo shrugged. "We'll figure it out. We can't do a big launch until we finalize the license and the paperwork. For now, let's call it a 'startup in progress.'"

Mary Jane gave a conspiratorial wink. "We do have to finalize soon, though. Marketing is everything, right?"

Aunt May chimed in, "Make sure it's something that rings with hope, not fear. People crave hope after all that's happened."

Steve nodded, gaze drifting out the high windows. "I'd love to see this place become a beacon—like the old Avengers Mansion used to be. A symbol that heroes can build, not just tear down."

Albedo inhaled, letting the day's satisfaction settle. "I want that too." His voice brimmed with quiet conviction.

They settled in for a small break, perched on crates or stools. Captain America found a water bottle in the cooler Mary Jane had brought. Peter leaned his head against MJ's shoulder, eyes half-lidded with fatigue but glimmering with contentment. Aunt May dozed lightly in a chair, lulled by the hush. Albedo simply let the moment breathe, feeling gratitude for the calm.

In the quiet, Steve finally spoke again, voice gentle. "Thank you both for letting me share in this. Sometimes I worry the hero community is irreparably damaged. But days like this remind me there's hope. Good people forging a new path, building a family. That's what truly matters."

Peter offered a smile. "Thanks for helping lug around all that junk, Cap. You definitely saved us hours of grunt work."

Albedo smirked, nodding in agreement. "And thanks for the moral support. It might seem small, but it means a lot."

Steve's gaze roamed the space, perhaps imagining the future hustle of employees, devices humming, inventions taking shape. "I'd best get going soon. Got to check in with some old allies. But I'd like to drop by again, see how you progress. And if you need an extra set of hands—"

"You're always welcome," Mary Jane said warmly. "Even heroes need real community."

Steve rose, collecting his shield. "I'll hold you to that. Keep me posted, especially if you run into trouble from old enemies or if Tony tries to hamper you." He smiled wryly. "I suspect Tony's more focused on bridging gaps now, but you never know."

Peter nodded. "We'll be careful. Thanks again, Cap."

They all walked him to the door, where a soft breeze rustled from outside. The day had aged into a golden late afternoon, painting the skyline with pinkish hues. Captain America paused at the threshold, taking one last look. "Take care, you three," he said, saluting them lightly with the shield's edge. "And, Albedo," he added, "remember my warning: keep your eyes on the present and the people who matter. Don't become so fixated on tomorrow that you forget what's right in front of you."

Albedo gave a thoughtful nod. "I'll hold onto that."

With that, Steve stepped out onto the quiet street, disappearing around the corner to wherever his next mission led him. A hush fell in the warehouse, the departure of such a legendary hero leaving a sense of weighty calm behind.

Aunt May sighed, turning back inside. "He's quite the man, isn't he? A real rock for the good in people."

Peter tucked his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. A moral compass we definitely need. We're lucky to call him a friend."

Albedo rubbed the back of his neck, letting the day's achievements wash over him. "We've come a long way. Hard to believe it's only been a month or so since we were scrambling for survival."

Mary Jane placed a hand on her abdomen. "Now we're starting a family. And a business. All at once. Terrifying and thrilling."

Peter slid an arm around her shoulders. "We can handle it, as long as we stick together."

Aunt May gave them a warm, almost motherly smile. "I'm proud of you both. And you, Albedo, for making room for us all in your life. Not every day a cosmic traveler ends up a pillar of stability." Her eyes twinkled with humor.

Albedo chuckled softly. "Stability is relative. But I'll do my best to keep this place a sanctuary. We all need somewhere to anchor ourselves."

That sense of anchor was precisely what they needed. Evening shadows grew long as the sun dipped. They tidied up the day's mess, locking away tools, checking the newly installed locks on the warehouse doors. The city was still sometimes hostile, old enemies lurking, but at least inside these walls they felt safe. They planned to expand security systems soon, especially with the Kingpin fiasco lingering in memory. For now, the battered old warehouse, in all its dusty glory, would be their fortress of hope and rebirth.

Mary Jane and Aunt May headed home first in a borrowed car, leaving Peter and Albedo to finish final tasks. They tested the overhead lights, verifying a stable power flow from the makeshift breaker box. They talked about next steps: drafting official business paperwork, contacting potential clients, maybe marketing discreetly to philanthropic organizations. By the time they locked the warehouse, the moon glowed overhead, streetlamps casting pools of light on the quiet block.

Standing outside, Peter inhaled the cool night air. "It's weird how calm I feel. Given everything… it's a gift just to plan a future."

Albedo nodded, sliding the keys into his pocket. "We deserve a calm night or two. Don't worry, I'll look into the next stage of building permits in the morning. Let's meet around noon tomorrow to finalize certain details."

Peter smiled. "Sounds good." He gave Albedo a quick, earnest handshake. "Thanks for… all of this. For trusting me as a partner, for letting me and my family lean on you."

Albedo's eyes glinted with warmth. "We're in this together, Parker. Let's make it count."

They parted ways at the curb, Peter swinging off to catch up with Mary Jane, while Albedo used the grappling line from his Proto-Tool to ascend to a nearby rooftop, heading in the direction of his own abode. Above them, the night sky spread in a gentle arc, constellations faint behind the city glow. Each star, each faint glimmer, felt like a promise—that from the ashes of war, they were building something new. That they'd learn from the past without letting it dictate the present, forging a path that integrated community, compassion, and hope.

As Albedo vanished into the skyline, the warehouse stood silent but brimming with potential. Tomorrow, it would come alive with hammering, planning, maybe the arrival of curious friends or potential allies. The next day, they might sign their first contract or refine an invention that saved lives. Through it all, they'd cling to the connections formed with the X-Men, Captain America, their families—every bond a tether to keep them from drifting into the same mistakes Tony and Reed had made.

In the hush of the city's late hours, one could almost sense the faint hum of destiny shifting, realigning. For now, at least, the winds of a better future blew through that humble warehouse. And even if the challenges ahead were many, Albedo, Peter, and their growing circle of allies stood poised to meet them, heartened by the knowledge that sometimes the greatest heroism came not from grand battles but from the quiet, hopeful act of building something better when all seemed lost.