A Dark Night Makes Things Easier

After a night spent reading by lamplight, Homelander turned to Stormfront beside him, looking rather pleased with himself.

He had no objection to a beautiful woman throwing herself at him.

Besides, there was an elusive allure about Stormfront that had always fascinated him.

His urge to enjoy the moment had simply outweighed his reservations.

Now, in the clarity of the aftermath, he finally turned to Stormfront with a curious look.

"You're pretty close to Edgar, aren't you? He even got you into The Seven."

Just bringing it up made Homelander grit his teeth.

But when he remembered how badly he had handled Flight 37, he held his tongue.

If Homelander depended on Madelyne, what he felt toward Edgar was sheer awe.

Thanks to Vought's efforts, his approval rating had fallen by only two points. Yet Vought had left him out of everything it had done since.

They had even sent the silent Black Noir out to make an appearance while ordering Homelander to stay put in the tower.

So Homelander had felt terribly empty lately.

Meanwhile, those resources had gone to the new heroes, helping them build reputations of their own.

Starlight had joined first among the three newcomers, so naturally she had taken off the fastest.

Shockwave, the fastest man alive, was not far behind.

Only Stormfront seemed to lack any great appeal beyond the "authenticity" she showed the public.

But because of that very approach, her following grew slowly yet remained fiercely loyal.

You could not drive her fans away with a stick. They were nothing like the other two newcomers' fans.

And so, even with few chances to stand out in The Seven, every appearance brought her more followers.

"Have you been following that congresswoman lately? Victoria?"

Homelander asked casually.

Ever since the existence of Supervillains had been revealed, the congresswoman had pursued Vought International relentlessly.

Her approval rating had soared because of it, carrying her steadily up the ranks.

Now she could hold rallies outside Vought Tower and openly proclaim her views.

That had drawn more and more supporters to her, seriously affecting Vought.

"I have. I've got a few ideas, though. I thought I might try them out later."

Stormfront nestled against Homelander, smiling.

Her real strength was not fighting, despite her command of lightning.

It was shaping public opinion and controlling people's hearts.

She had mastered that trick decades ago.

"Clear. Take it slow."

It was 2:40 a.m., the hour when people were at their most exhausted.

However vigilant Vought's guards were, they could hardly avoid nodding off.

After all, everyone for miles around was one of theirs, and nothing had happened here in eight whole years.

Contrary to Rorschach's guess, there were no Supes anywhere nearby.

In fact, this entire stretch did not fall within any superhero's territory.

But a band of mercenaries had established tight defenses around the area.

Rorschach carried the computer he had gotten from Colonel Mallory and tapped it twice.

"All set. Move in."

The CIA's computer was handy. In moments, the surveillance feed had been replaced with footage from the same time yesterday.

The team was simply too large. He had no choice but to use a clumsy method like this.

Rorschach led the way without making a sound.

The others still made some noise, but it was hardly noticeable in the still of the night.

Three of them had received formal training in infiltration, at least.

"Wait for my signal before you come over."

The guard booth lay just ahead. To Rorschach's surprise, his reconnaissance showed it was the only one.

Perhaps they had originally needed to watch just one house, then added more grounds later. Since nothing had gone wrong, they had never added another booth?

Rorschach did not care. After hacking the cameras in the booth as well, he crept toward the isolated structure alone.

Deep into the night, the man inside was watching a gripping film with both action and romance.

He did not realize anything was wrong until Rorschach stepped through the door. He tried to turn around.

But a powerful hand had already clamped around his throat.

"Don't move if you want to live."

"I know there are at least ten ways to raise the alarm in this booth. You'd better not trigger a single one, or I'll snap your neck right here."

"And to put your pathetic hopes to rest, my companions and I are all Supes. If someone like Homelander flies over, you'll be the first to die."

"Blink twice if you understand."

Despair plainly filled the man's eyes beneath Rorschach's hand.

Without superpowers, no one could have slipped past so many cameras to reach him.

Even if Rorschach were the only Supe, killing him would be effortless.

If Vought came after him later, he could take his savings and flee to Gallic Rooster.

There was no point dying for his job. It would not be Vought's executives getting their necks snapped.

When the man at the surveillance desk blinked twice, Rorschach pressed his radio.

A moment later, Butcher led the team into the booth.

"We don't have much time. We have to leave before dawn."

Rorschach opened the computer, connected it to the surveillance room's terminal, and got to work.

"Looks like they've had it easy all these years. They haven't even updated the alarm system."

The more Rorschach said, the deeper the despair in the guard's eyes grew.

"Frenchie, fool the alarm system. Mouse, keep an eye on him and make sure he behaves."

This was where they had to split up for the first time, and why Rorschach had brought such a large group.

If they tripped an alarm and the mission fell apart, they would need people covering one another's retreat.

When a small house came into view, Butcher lost all control of his expression.

"Becca... she's been here all these years?"

"Save it. Go to the bedroom on the right, wake Becca, and have her bring Ryan with us."

"Ryan?"

Only then did Butcher realize his wife might have given birth to...

Homelander's son?

"There's no time to be shocked. Stay strong."

Rorschach took out his tools and picked Becca's lock in seconds.

The group filed inside. Elsewhere, Frenchie was drenched in sweat as he kept intercepting alarm commands.

"Becca? Becca?"

At the sound of that familiar voice, Becca stirred groggily from sleep.

"Butcher?"

She had never dreamed the man before her would appear in her bedroom.

"No time to explain. Hurry—get Ryan. We're leaving!"

At Butcher's words, tears spilled down Becca's cheeks.

Eight years of pain and hurt surged up all at once, and she could not stop crying.

"Kimiko!"

Rorschach gave them no time to grieve. Kimiko hoisted Becca onto her back and ran outside.