Alchemical armaments

The moment Homelander issued his seventy-two-hour ultimatum, the world erupted.

On CNN's live broadcast, the blackened scar across the White House lawn was still smoking. The anchor's voice trembled as the footage of Homelander hovering in midair played over and over.

Stocks on Wall Street plunged forty percent. Europe's major exchanges shut down outright, and all of Tokyo went under martial law.

Outside Vought Corporation's New York headquarters, thousands of people blocked every exit. Their placards read "Give us back our children" and "Vought executives, go to hell."

Several black sedans sped out of the underground garage. The crowd swarmed them, smashed their windows, and dragged the suited executives inside out for a savage beating.

The police set up a cordon. No one paid it any mind.

The United Nations Security Council convened an emergency meeting. The representatives of the five permanent members sat around the table, their faces grim.

The Russian representative proposed using a nuclear bomb. The American representative rejected it on the spot.

Dragon Country demanded that the research on Compound V be made public, while the United Kingdom advocated negotiating first.

They argued for four hours and accomplished fuck all. Everyone knew conventional weapons couldn't kill Homelander, and a nuclear bomb would flatten New York along with him.

Inside the underground base, Butcher stared at Homelander's face on the monitor, both hands buried in his coat pockets. Hughie tapped at his keyboard, monitoring public sentiment. Frenchie polished his crossbow bolts, while Mrs. M leaned against the wall, resting with her eyes closed.

Chu Hang's double emerged from the laboratory carrying a silver metal case. Runes engraved across its surface glowed a faint gold. Benjamin followed behind him.

Butcher turned to look.

"That's it?"

"Yes."

Chu Hang's double set the case on the table and pressed the