The room was dim, lit only by the bluish glow of Ned's monitors and a lava lamp pulsing gently on the windowsill. Cords tangled underfoot, snack wrappers littered the corners, and somewhere near the couch, a half-eaten sandwich had mysteriously vanished—likely claimed by the abyss of teenage chaos.
Raj stood by the window, arms folded, gaze fixed on the street below. Every so often, a car passed by. A cat darted between trash cans. It was the most mundane version of New York. But Raj couldn't shake the sense that behind that calm, someone was watching. Listening.
Ned adjusted a pair of comms earpieces, fiddling with a soldering iron and muttering, "Okay, these should hold together unless you walk into a microwave."
Peter was quiet for once, his fingers tapping nervously on the edge of a desk. He looked over at Raj. "You've been staring out that window for a while."
Raj's voice was calm, but there was a steel edge to it. "Just thinking."
Peter glanced at Ned, then back to Raj. "About?"
"About what happens next."
Ned finally spoke up. "You sure you guys don't wanna call someone? Like… the Iron Man ? Or I dunno—Government Military Agency, if that's still a thing?"
Peter hesitated.
Raj turned. "No time. And no guarantee they'd believe us, Ned. This isn't just some street-level gang."
Ned sat back in his chair, frowning. "Still. Going in without backup? That's crazy."
Peter stood. "We've been over this. The more people we involve, the more chance Hydra burrows deeper and disappears. We have one shot to hit them while they're exposed."
"And if we fail?" Ned asked.
Raj didn't blink. "Then at least we tried."
The silence that followed was thick—denser than fear, heavier than doubt.
Peter moved toward Raj. "Look, you don't have to do this alone."
"I know," Raj said, softer now. "But I can't pretend this didn't start with me. The surveillance, the notes, the mutant attacks… They've all been about pushing me."
Peter nodded. "And I was there too. They've been watching both of us."
Raj exhaled slowly, the faintest shimmer of gold behind his eyes. "But they want me."
Ned looked between them, suddenly quieter. "So what—you're bait now?"
Peter rested a hand on Raj's shoulder. "He's not bait. He's the reason we're going to win."
Raj cracked a faint smile. "Don't make me tear up in my superhero hoodie."
They all chuckled, but the tension didn't lift.
Raj added, "This isn't just about power anymore. It's about choice. And I'm choosing to finish what they started."
Peter squeezed his shoulder once. "Correction—we're finishing it."
Ned stood, suddenly energized. "Okay, then let's make this the best illegally hacked operation this side of the Hudson."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "That's your rally cry?"
"I'm nervous, okay?"
Raj gave him a half-smile. "Don't worry. You're the guy in the chair. You'll be fine."
Ned saluted dramatically. "Mission: Chaos—engaged."
The clock on the wall ticked to 2:00 a.m.
They had fifteen minutes left before they'd step into the dark and whatever waited inside that Hydra base.
___
The pizza was cold. The cheese had congealed into rubber, and the crusts were soggy from condensation inside the delivery box. But nobody complained.
Raj, Peter, and Ned sat in a quiet triangle around the coffee table in Ned's living room. The monitors behind them buzzed softly, glowing faintly in the background like distant city lights. For the first time in hours, there were no maps or plans or blueprints in their hands. Just greasy napkins and half-full soda cans.
Ned took a loud bite and attempted levity. "You know, statistically, all superhero missions should start with pizza. I think it's the carbs. Builds morale."
Peter gave him a look. "Pretty sure statistics also say sneaking into a Hydra base at 2 a.m. is how you die horribly."
"See?" Ned pointed with his slice. "All the more reason to pregame with pepperoni."
Raj didn't laugh. He stared at his untouched slice, fingers resting on the table's edge. His eyes kept drifting to the window. To the flickering streetlamp outside.
It blinked once.
Twice.
Peter noticed. "You okay?"
Raj didn't look away. "That lamp… it's been doing that for the last twenty minutes. Same rhythm."
Peter followed his gaze. "You think it's them?"
"I don't know," Raj admitted. "Could be bad wiring. Could be someone tapping the grid to monitor activity near here."
Ned swallowed, suddenly less eager. "Should we be worried?"
"No," Raj said, a little too quickly. "But maybe we should move soon."
The three boys sat in silence again.
Peter leaned back, arms crossed. "This is the worst part, you know?"
"What is?" Raj asked.
"The waiting. The pause before the first step. Not the mission itself. Not even the danger. It's the wondering."
Raj finally looked up. "Wondering what?"
"Wondering who you'll be when it's over."
That landed heavier than Peter expected. Ned set down his pizza. Raj stared at the ceiling for a moment, then exhaled.
"I never imagined it like this," he said. "I used to think if I ever got powers—if I was one of the lucky ones—it'd be clean. Heroism. Headlines. Flying through the clouds."
"And instead," Peter added gently, "it's sneaking through shadows with night-vision goggles made from flashlight parts."
Raj smiled, just faintly. "Yeah. Go figure."
Peter got up and began tightening the straps on his backpack. "You're not alone in this."
"I know."
"No, really," Peter said. "This isn't your burden alone, Raj. You're strong, but that doesn't mean you have to carry everything."
Raj stood, grabbing his own gear. His golden suit shimmered faintly beneath his zipped hoodie.
"I'm not scared of what we're about to face," he said. "I'm scared of what I'll have to become to stop it."
Peter met his eyes. "Then let's make sure you don't face it alone."
Ned stood too, grabbing the duffel bag with gear. "I can't shoot lasers or punch holes in steel, but I've got a bootleg EMP puck and questionable internet ethics. That counts, right?"
Peter laughed. "It counts."
They moved toward the back door. Raj hesitated just before stepping out. He looked back at the room—the messy floor, the scattered tech, the flickering lamp outside. Something about this tiny, chaotic haven grounded him.
Then he pulled his hood up.
The clock on Ned's wall flashed 2:15 a.m.
Time.
The door opened.
Three boys slipped into the alley, shadows swallowing their footsteps. Their suits were hidden under layers of cloth, but their purpose burned clear.
No turning back now.
The Hydra base waited.
And so did whatever came next.