Don't Play Too Late

Inside the office, the rhythmic clacking of a keyboard echoed incessantly as a series of suggestions appeared one by one on the electronic display before Homelander.

The text on the screen clearly listed the recommended approach: comply with Ryan's thoughts and do not spoil the plot in advance. However, you may tell him this:

"Son, this film is based on my real past, only the villain's combat power was deliberately exaggerated. I am Homelander, the most powerful superhero in the world; I would never end up in such a pathetic state."

As the dialogue ended, the special task force thoughtfully provided Homelander with the reasoning behind these lines.

You should consistently emphasize your absolute, overwhelming strength to solidify Ryan's psychological dependence, allowing him to truly feel the sense of security brought by his father (that is, you, Homelander).

Homelander's gaze swept across the electronic screen.

With a public persona honed over years of practice, his tone immediately shifted to perfectly match the suggested dialogue, infused with a rich layer of emotion.

"Son, this film is based on..."

"But Father..."

After a brief pause, Ryan asked the question he had carefully prepared: "Is there really no one in this world who can cause you trouble?"

"If a person is that powerful, so much so that no one can hurt him, won't others be afraid of him?"

"Dad, are other people afraid of you?"

The moment Ryan's words fell over the phone, Ashley, who was standing to the side with a smile, gripped her folder so hard that a cold sweat instantly soaked through her clothes.

The office fell into a deathly, suffocating silence.

Homelander's gaze slowly drifted over one person after another. His super-vision granted him the terrifying ability to see through human bodies, and he clearly saw that the hearts of everyone in the room were pounding like drums and surging like waves.

After a few seconds of silence, Homelander waved his hand, and the people fled the scene in a disheveled panic, as if granted a reprieve.

Once they had all left, Homelander whispered with a hint of bewilderment: "Afraid..."

He murmured the word under his breath, a trace of imperceptible loneliness flashing in the depths of his eyes.

Having always been invincible and believing himself to be above all things, he had never seriously considered this question until he killed Madelyn.

He had pondered it, but he could not understand why.

"I was born powerful, unmatched by any. The world should love me and revere me; I always thought that was how a strong person should be."

There was a stubborn refusal to concede in Homelander's tone.

But his tone softened in an instant, leaving only the tenderness of a father: "I... I never chose to be a hero just to make people fear me, Ryan..."

He lowered his eyes slightly, his voice dropping even further, carrying a hint of cautious probing: "In your heart... does Dad make you feel afraid?"

"Of course not, you are the best dad in the world!"

Ryan answered firmly and decisively, his tone full of genuine reliance, as if he couldn't detect the trace of pretense in Homelander's words.

"Because I know you love me. No matter what happens, I know you will protect me."

Hearing this response, Homelander's long-tensed spine suddenly relaxed, and the inexplicable, hollow loneliness in his heart seemed to be instantly filled by something.

His throat tightened; the aura of the powerful super-being dissipated entirely, leaving only a childlike clumsiness and a moving tenderness.

So, everyone feared him, except for his own son.

So, there was still someone in this world who simply saw him as a father.

After what seemed like a long time, Homelander let out a low, soft chuckle, his tone carrying a hoarseness he hadn't even noticed himself: "That's good... that's good..."

He raised a hand to press gently against the window, looking out at the bustling yet cold city.

"Ryan, you know, I never had a father or a mother. Those stories in the media are all fake. I... I actually grew up in a laboratory."

"Ah!?"

Homelander spoke as if to himself, yet also as if confessing to Ryan: "I only wanted to be everyone's hero, someone who could be liked and trusted."

"But in the end, it seems only you are willing to come close to me, my son."

Ryan also fell silent for a moment on the phone.

He had always understood what Homelander was saying.

But he could not afford to understand any further; his age did not allow him to touch the deeper, darker layers of Homelander's soul.

Today's scene was meant to end here.

Ryan shook his head and said, holding the phone in confusion: "Dad, I don't quite understand what you're saying, I only know that you are my superhero!"

That simple, sweet remark struck directly at the softest, most vulnerable part of Homelander's heart.

Homelander closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling—paranoia, cruelty, arrogance, insecurity, and fragility all tangled together, indistinguishable.

After a long while, he spoke slowly, his tone incomparably solemn:

"Ryan, that sentence is enough for me."

"From now on, no one is allowed to make you doubt me, and no one is allowed to make you disappointed in me."

"I don't care about anyone who fears me; I only need you to love me forever and rely on me forever."

He remained the invincible, reckless Homelander, but in this moment, all his hard shells had softened for the sake of his son.

What did it matter if the world feared him?

As long as his son Ryan was neither afraid nor distant, he remained the unshakable god he had always been.

Suddenly, Ryan's ears twitched; he heard the sound of his mother Becca leaving the house.

Immediately after, he heard an unusual noise coming from the car parked by the roadside.

It was a pity his super-vision was only at level one, unable to see through the walls of the entire house, but Ryan was certain that Billy Butcher must be hiding in that car.

The moment he had been waiting for was finally here.

Licking his lips, Ryan gave a soft hum and said, "Dad, I... can I go out and fly for a bit?"

The abrupt change of topic caught Homelander off guard.

He didn't think too much about it, blurting out without a second thought, "You haven't finished watching my movie yet, have you?"

"Huh?!"

Ryan was momentarily speechless.

No, we were having such a heartfelt conversation, and you respond with "you haven't finished my movie"?

"Ah, no, I mean, ahem, don't stay out too late, son."

Homelander added, then winked as if to say he would keep it a secret for him.

What could Ryan do? Naturally, he played along.

"I know, Dad."

Hanging up the phone, Ryan immediately opened the window and flew out.

His mother Becca's car had already driven out of the range of his super-hearing, but by gaining altitude, he only had to search for a moment before spotting the vehicle about to exit the neighborhood.

Ryan changed direction and gave chase, tracking it all the way to the parking spot.

And just as he was mentally preparing his argument to convince his mother to let him join Homelander, a scene unfolded before him that left him dumbfounded.

If this were anyone else's live show, Ryan certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a nuisance.

But it was his own mother, and his mother's husband.

Helpless, Ryan could only lift his foot and kick a pebble.