Breaking Homelander

"I take it you're Starlight. And you are?"

"Rorschach. He's my friend. He wanted to come see the place for himself."

Starlight hurried to explain.

She still didn't know what was going on, but she understood that what Rorschach had just said was meant to help her out.

"Oh, your boyfriend?"

Homelander still looked like a friendly, all-American boy.

He could have been Superman from another world.

But Rorschach knew better. When it came to doing whatever he pleased, Homelander stood at the very top of the superhero pile.

To put it bluntly, he was the sickest of all the sick superheroes.

With no parents, he had been raised as a "product," groomed to be the face of a superhero brand.

With that warped mind of his, he performed good deeds like staged shows. Of course Homelander thought he was above everyone else.

And that was precisely what made him the most "real" superhero.

After all, everyone had dark corners in their heart and desires that could never be satisfied.

If Rorschach had Homelander's powers, he...

Probably wouldn't turn out like him.

"No, no! We're just... We only just met, but we really hit it off," Starlight said.

"And I'm a huge fan of The Deep. Sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way, but I only wanted to do my part for ocean conservation."

Rorschach handed the lobster he had bought to The Deep, who could only accept it with a strained smile.

The Deep had acted on impulse. Homelander's refusal to ask questions had already exceeded his expectations.

As far as he was concerned, that practically counted as tacit approval.

He had no idea why this stranger had suddenly appeared.

Now Homelander had come over after hearing about his loss of composure.

If he started telling the truth, who knew what would be waiting for him?

As far as Vought International was concerned, a scandal like this was no great problem if it stayed behind closed doors.

A hefty settlement, a confidentiality agreement, and a top-tier PR team.

Vought International had already budgeted for all of it.

But if it became public—especially if a state's great hope stood up and denounced The Deep—

Then Vought would consider dumping him at once, shipping him off somewhere to squeeze out the last of his value.

They could build up Starlight at the same time, recruit another round of newcomers, and draw in the attention.

The Deep knew exactly how it worked. Lately, he had obeyed both the executives and Homelander without question.

Getting to "announce his retirement" as smoothly as Lamplighter had was the greatest goal of his life.

"So everything's fine, then?"

Homelander smiled, but his eyes were cold.

Not one person—not a single one—had ever looked at him as calmly as Rorschach did.

He was a superhuman, the strongest man in this damned world. Even people who didn't like him had to admit it! He was a man who shaped the whole world!

Yet Rorschach looked him straight in the eye as though they were equals.

It irritated him.

"Come on. Let's go take a look outside."

Even a naive girl like Starlight could tell something was wrong here.

She caught Rorschach by the wrist and hurried him out of the tower.

As they walked, Starlight realized that Rorschach seemed completely ordinary.

Superheroes might look like ordinary people, but physically, the difference was night and day.

Starlight herself could lift a car with her bare hands and punch holes in a brick wall.

But when she gripped Rorschach's wrist, she felt none of the dense muscle and bone she expected.

It seemed as though she could break his arm with a casual squeeze.

Yet he had suddenly appeared in front of her earlier. Surely he had some kind of superpower.

"How did you know all that? And who are you?"

"Relax. Here's my number." Rorschach handed her a slip of paper.

"If anything's troubling you, call me anytime, Annie."

There was something pointed about Rorschach's last remark: he had used Starlight's real name.

Then he walked away, leaving a thoroughly puzzled Annie standing there.

After he got home, Rorschach received a call from Hughie. The installation service had arrived quickly.

Rorschach knew a little about installing equipment himself, but it wasn't as if he was planting a bug in The Seven's conference room.

So he would leave it to them.

Besides, if he wanted to know what The Seven talked about, hadn't a certain girl just joined the team?

She was a little naive, but for Rorschach, that suited his purposes just fine.

Queen Maeve was probably trustworthy too, but it was still too early for that.

Whether it was The Seven or Vought International, Rorschach wouldn't sleep soundly until he had got them off his back.

"Looks like I did pretty well."

Seeing Starlight's thank-you text and the 200 points credited to his account, Rorschach smiled with satisfaction.

This time, he might have stepped into the spotlight and drawn those people's attention.

He couldn't hurt them yet, so he needed a team to shoulder some of his worries.

"Hmm... I barely rattled The Deep, and I got twenty extra points for it?"

What Rorschach had said wasn't even that harsh. Especially after he showed off his superpower, of course they would give it some thought.

After all, even a country bumpkin like Starlight would wise up quickly once she joined The Seven.

They were already physically superior to ordinary people. Getting a little smarter wasn't hard.

It was just that they never normally had to worry about any of that.

"Flashbangs, white phosphorus, even C4 plastic explosives... But they're all so expensive..."

Rorschach's family was certainly well-off, and even in this land of freedom, there were ways to buy such things.

As for the classic "prize wheel," a single spin cost a full hundred points.

"I don't want to end up with nothing to show for it..."

Until Rorschach confirmed that this lottery system hadn't come from one of those two notorious gaming companies, he wasn't going all in.

But when he saw the new feature unlocked on the interface—"Anonymous Call"—Rorschach had a bold idea.

Just getting under The Deep's skin had earned him dozens of points. The missions that followed would be nowhere near as profitable as rattling these superhumans.

And the latter sounded much more fun.

Late that night, Homelander gazed at his portrait.

He had just used the lasers from his eyes to slice a loose-lipped official—and the entire plane carrying him—in half amid the thunderclouds.

Behind him, Madelyne, a Vought International executive who had become a mother later in life, was sorting through documents while using a device to collect food for her child.

If it was to protect this woman, Homelander would do anything willingly.

Homelander licked his lips, but a ringtone interrupted his thoughts of taking things further.

Yes, Homelander used a phone too. A small pocket had been sewn into his cape.

Just in case he needed it.

No number. No name. His phone simply rang over and over, never stopping.

His mood spoiled, he answered.

"Knock, knock."

The caller's voice was low and raspy, as though he had advanced throat cancer.

"Who are you? Why are you calling me?" Deeply confused, Homelander nevertheless played along with the old American joke.

"Not your parents, that's for sure."

Homelander's expression changed at once!

He wasn't some "gift from God," nor was he an alien who had come to Earth after a disaster.

He was just a test-tube baby! A corporate product made with chemicals and an artificial womb!

"Someone wanted me to pass that along."

"Who?" Homelander demanded through clenched teeth.

He had already made up his mind: whoever was on the other end of the line would die in agony!

"Not your parents, that's for sure!"

The caller hung up, evidently satisfied.

Homelander stared at his phone screen in disbelief. There was no call history. Nothing at all.

It was as if the call had been nothing but a dream.

"Fuck!"

He roared, startling Madelyne across the room.