Vought International had an enormous, bloated collection of film and television assets. The launch ceremony for this superhero blockbuster was a clear example of those resources being piled together.
Three massive sound stages in the studio complex had been cleared out for the ceremony, and the first scene of the day would be filmed in one of them.
A giant black backdrop stretched across dozens of meters, and a large poster covered the wall. Vought International executives whose names no one could remember, top-tier producers, A-list directors, and a host of second- and third-rate superheroes were all in attendance.
The perimeter was also surrounded by television stations and dozens of entertainment media outlets from across the country. Broadcast vans lined the road, while photographers livestreamed the event.
The broadcast signal continued to spread, carrying the spectacle around the world at incredible speed.
"Clink."
Edgar's glass chimed, and he drained it in one go.
Staying behind in Vought Tower, he watched the livestream on television and raised his now-empty wineglass in a toast from afar.
In his heart, he silently said, Ms. Vought, I wish you all the best.
Onscreen, Stormfront had just entered the frame.
The host excitedly called out his question. "Stormfront, as a special guest of honor at today's launch ceremony, is there anything you can reveal about the story?"
Stormfront smiled brightly, looking to be in a very good mood as she took the microphone and gave a brief answer. "All I can say is that this is a superhero movie unlike any other. It's definitely worth looking forward to!"
Then she handed the microphone back to the host and quickly walked onto the set.
The host was briefly taken aback, but before he could wonder why Stormfront was acting so differently from usual, he saw Queen Maeve step out of the car that had pulled up at the end of the red carpet.
And with Maeve was Homelander's son, Ryan.
But where was Homelander?
Why wasn't he bringing his son in? Why was it Queen Maeve instead?
Wait!
Could Ryan actually be Queen Maeve and Homelander's son?
The host nearly laughed at his own absurd thought. He hurried over, thrust out the microphone, and asked, "Maeve, Ryan, where's Homelander?"
Where was Homie?
He was in Vought Tower, locked away in his room.
The livestream played frame by frame, while the sound came through the built-in entertainment system.
"I just had a few simple ideas. Dad helped me make them happen."
"Of course we had disagreements. A lot of the time, I don't understand the weird ideas you grown-ups have, but my dad is really good at helping me work through things."
Homelander's expression was gentle, and his whole presence was uncharacteristically soft.
His eyes were full of pride and joy. The articulate, lovable child standing at the interview podium was his own flesh and blood, the continuation of his line—his son.
"Ashley told me Dad was doing what a superhero was supposed to do, so he couldn't come today!"
Homelander suddenly frowned. Ashley was lying to Ryan.
"She deserves to die!"
"No, no, it was just a white lie."
"A white lie? Ha! Ashley can lie to Ryan today, and tomorrow she'll be telling you white lies, too."
"Stop arguing!!"
A furious roar suddenly erupted in the room.
Along with a loud crash, the remote was hurled into the television screen, and cracks instantly spread across it like a spiderweb.
Homelander's chest heaved violently. He shook his head, as if trying to clear away the thoughts in his mind, the opposing ideas that kept pulling him back and forth in endless argument.
But... he just couldn't do it!
"When did this start?"
"What?"
"I mean, this evil thought of yours. When did it start?"
"I don't know."
"No, you do. It started when Ryan rejected your idea and added those childish, ridiculous ideas of his to the script!"
"Stop it. Ryan is my son."
"Of course! Ryan is my son, too. I'm just telling you that Ryan needs us to protect him. We can't let him stay so naive. It'll hurt him."
"We have to protect him!"
The room fell silent.
The deathly quiet lasted a long, long time. The second hand ticked away.
No one knew how much time had passed. Homelander's lips twitched upward, and his stiff body slowly began to move.
He shuffled toward the door, one step at a time.
As he passed a mirror, he instinctively tried to admire his own heroic figure.
But the moment his gaze landed on the mirror, he froze.
"You..."
"Me?"
The face in the mirror wore a different expression. It looked wronged, sorrowful, and even... timid, like a scrawny little boy.
But he clearly hadn't felt any of those cowardly emotions. He clearly hadn't...
"Bang!"
Suddenly, the door was shoved open with great force.
The sudden crash of the door startled Homelander, who was caught in the middle of that strange state.
He whipped around and glared.
"Don't kill me! Ryan! Ryan told me to come!"
"Ryan?"
Mustering all her courage, Raven quickly explained, "My superpower lets me connect with the spiritual essence of ravens, and raven essence can sense whether people are good or evil."
"It works on me, or on anyone I choose."
"Ashley's new assistant harbors ill will toward you. I told Ryan, and he asked me to keep it a secret. He wanted to investigate some things."
"I don't know what they are, but he just contacted me and told me to come tell you right away!"
Raven rattled off the whole story without stumbling once.
The girl was obviously terrified.
But after hearing her out, Homelander froze all over again.
He tried to remember what Ashley's new assistant looked like, but all he could come up with was a blank.
Hum—
Heat Vision began to gather.
Homelander had finally realized that something had been wrong with him lately.
And there was no ignoring the one-man performance he'd just put on in the room. He, Homelander, had been manipulated by someone with an unknown superpower!
"Don't kill me!!!"
Raven dropped onto the floor in terror and screamed.
Just then, Homelander's Heat Vision paused as it fell on the girl. He immediately cut it off and looked down at his chest.
A targeting marker appeared.
"Ryan!!"
As Homelander smashed through the glass and flew off in an instant, Mitchell felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her.
"I... I'm... alive."
Footsteps came at an unusually fast pace. Before Mitchell could turn around to see who it was, the newcomer had already entered the room.
"Am I too late?"
Mitchell whipped around. A bigwig's face appeared before her.
Stan Edgar looked at the battered girl on the floor, then suddenly chuckled and shook his head. "It was only a dispensable move anyway. If we didn't get the message through, so be it."
"Uh... you... you came to help because Ryan called you, too?"
"Oh? So... Ryan called you here! Ha, this just got interesting."
Edgar spoke lightly, but his smile was bitter.
The beast's leash had been tightened once again, but it wasn't his hand holding it.
"One wrong move, and every move after that was wrong."
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