The city slept beneath a velvet sky, stars dimmed by the glow of urban lights. But in Peter's bedroom, three teenagers were wide awake.
It was 4 a.m.—the early hush of dawn where even the birds hadn't begun to sing yet. Fog clung to the windows like breath. The world was quiet.
Raj stood near the bed, holding up the final version of his golden-red suit. The sunlight played off the freshly reinforced material, making it gleam as if forged rather than stitched. The orange sun emblem on the chest caught the light, glowing faintly like a living ember. The red stripes that ran down from the shoulders to the wrists gave it structure, discipline.
"It's done," Raj said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.
Peter glanced up from his spot near the desk, where his own suit lay half-unzipped. He was tinkering with one of the web-shooters, replacing a nozzle with something slightly thicker and chrome-colored. "You really went all out," he said, giving Raj a lopsided grin. "You look like a solar samurai."
Raj didn't smile. "It needs to hold. If this base is real—if what we saw in those files is even half true—we won't have time for wardrobe malfunctions."
Peter nodded, reaching for the small tool kit beside his keyboard. "Agreed. That's why I'm retrofitting these. Impact dampeners. Ned said the security system they're using is thermal-based. We need to be careful not to light up like Christmas trees."
Across the room, Ned sat cross-legged on the floor with a clutter of wires and circuit boards spread out before him. He held up a clunky but functional-looking earpiece. "Behold: Midtown Comms Version 1.0," he announced proudly. "It won't survive a nuke, but it should last longer than Peter's last phone."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I told you—dropping it into the Hudson was part of a tactical evasion."
Ned snorted. "Tactical clumsiness, more like."
Raj chuckled under his breath but returned to tightening one of the reinforced seams in his gloves. Each stitch, each adjustment—it was less about the suit and more about mentally preparing himself. Armoring his mind while he armored his body.
Ned stood and handed Raj the comm. "Left ear. Press twice to ping. Triple press to emergency mute. If you hold for three seconds, it'll lock onto Peter's frequency."
Raj nodded, fixing the device into his ear and flexing his fingers as if adjusting to the weight of responsibility more than the tech. "Thanks, Ned."
Ned gave a mock salute. "If I die from sleep deprivation, make sure they put 'Hacked For A Hero' on my tombstone."
A beat passed.
Then silence returned.
It was heavier this time.
Peter stood, slipping his mask halfway over his face before pulling it back down. He watched Raj closely, brows creased. "You okay?"
Raj didn't answer immediately. He moved to the window and looked out over Queens.
"We've fought before. That mutant. The school trap. Aidren. But this…" He shook his head. "This feels different. Like the start of something we can't undo."
Peter joined him by the window, voice soft. "It is. That's what war feels like before it starts."
Raj looked at him. "Is that what this is? A war?"
Peter hesitated. "I don't know. But if it is, we're not alone. We've got each other. And we've got truth on our side."
Raj looked back out the window. "Truth doesn't stop bullets."
"No," Peter said, "but maybe your super defense does."
That finally earned a smirk.
Ned broke the mood by plopping back down and cracking open a soda. "Can we all agree not to die until after graduation?"
Peter grinned. "Deal. But only if we survive first."
Raj rolled his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
The three of them worked in tandem, packing small equipment bags, checking gear, reviewing the blueprints they'd pulled from the hacked Hydra files. The base was somewhere beneath an abandoned logistics warehouse in upstate New York. Shielded. Subterranean. Likely rigged with surveillance tech they hadn't seen before.
But they weren't going in blind. Not anymore.
Peter spread a layout across the floor, weighed it down with an old trophy and a half-empty jar of peanut butter. "Entry here," he pointed. "Ned found a service tunnel that runs parallel to the foundation. If we follow that, we can avoid the thermal grid."
Raj leaned over the map. "Security?"
"Minimal at the tunnel entrance," Ned said. "But high around the lab sector. Expect drones. Maybe more like Aidren."
Peter glanced up. "You good to handle another one of those guys?"
Raj nodded. "If I go all out."
Peter frowned. "Let's save 'all out' for last resorts. Your power might be evolving, but it's not infinite."
Raj sighed. "I know. But if it comes down to it…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
Peter gave a quiet nod of understanding.
Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. "One last thing."
He handed it to Ned.
"What's this?"
"A note. For Aunt May. Just in case she wakes up before you get back. Tell her I'm leaving for a… school-related project. Something educational."
By the time the sky turned deep orange, they were ready. Suits prepped. Equipment packed. Comms tested.
Peter slid his mask over his head and checked his web cartridges.
Raj flexed his hands. He felt the power stirring beneath his skin. It wasn't just energy—it was control. Focus.
Ned watched them both with a mix of admiration and anxiety. "So… what's the plan?"
Peter answered first. "We go in quiet. No flashy entrances. We get in, grab whatever intel we can—names, programs, plans—and we get out."
Raj added, "If we find prisoners, we help them. If we find weapons, we disable them. But if it's a trap…"
Peter met his gaze. "Then we spring it our way."
The three of them stood there a moment, like actors backstage before the curtain. No applause. Just heartbeat, breath, and belief.
Then Ned raised his soda can like a toast. "To the Blurred Hero, the Spider-Nerd, and the Guy With All The Snacks."
Raj and Peter both grinned.
They bumped fists.
"Let's go."
And with that, they stepped into the dark, toward the road ahead, and toward the truth waiting in the shadows of Hydra.