Once the thought took root, Homelander sank into deep anxiety.
Homelander had always cared deeply about his reputation. It was one reason Vought International's executives had so often been able to rein him in through public pressure.
Being welcomed and loved by the public, and holding an irreplaceable place in their hearts, was something Homelander had always pursued.
And Homelander knew why the masses revered him. Beyond the approachable, righteous image he worked so hard to maintain, the most important reason was his extraordinary power, which put him far beyond other Espers.
If people discovered that the superhero they worshipped no longer stood head and shoulders above other Espers, their trust in and reliance on Homelander would plummet. He would struggle to maintain his towering image in their eyes.
Homelander could never accept that.
But even with a few trump cards still in reserve, he could not be certain of victory if he ultimately had to fight that bald man.
Judging by his two crushing defeats, there was clearly a vast gulf in strength between them.
Homelander had to admit that someone else was stronger than he was. He could not imagine how the man had acquired such an incredibly powerful body, but he had experienced that overwhelming strength firsthand. He understood the gap between them all too well.
Homelander stood outside the studio, pacing back and forth. The next match had already begun, but he had no interest in following it. Too unsettled to focus, he could no longer play his part as a backstage guest.
Just as Homelander was at a loss, a gentle voice pulled him from his chaotic thoughts.
"Homelander, if you want to become stronger, perhaps we should talk."
Homelander frowned and looked around. There was no one nearby.
"Who said that?" he asked.
"Can't