Soldier Boy's hand paused.
He looked at Ian, and Ian looked back at him. Moonlight fell between them, over the ruins, over the pool of blood. Soldier Boy's lips moved.
"What did you say?"
"Homelander," Ian said. "He's your son."
Soldier Boy looked at him for a long time. There was a light in his eyes—not moonlight, but something darker, heavier, surging up from deep within his pupils.
His fist clenched, his knuckles cracking.
"You've got it wrong."
Soldier Boy's voice was very low.
"I don't," Ian said. "Vought International used your genes to make him. He's your son. Biologically."
Soldier Boy stood there, motionless.
The wind blew over, tugging at his soaked uniform, stirring his dripping brown hair. He lowered his head and looked at his still-trembling hands for a long time. Then he raised his head and looked at the patch of open ground where Homelander had been lying a moment ago. There was nothing there anymore.
"So, let me get this straight. You're just telling me you beat the shit out of my biological son?" How to put it? Soldier Boy had always been emotionally stable.
Ian nodded.
"He was a pussy."
"Then we're good."
Disgust suddenly spread across Soldier Boy's face. He looked at that empty patch of ground for a long time, then turned around, putting the ruins at his back.
"Let's go. I still need to get revenge on Vought International."
Soldier Boy spoke.
"I want the formula for Compound V, and leads or the formula for the original Compound V." Ian followed him. He hadn't agreed to take him back without a reason.
They walked out through the main gate. Moonlight shone on the road, the asphalt gleaming silver-white. In the distance, the city blazed with lights, the silhouettes of skyscrapers rising and