Eddie was lying behind an overturned garbage bin, half-buried in the smelly muddy water.
He was breathing heavily and couldn't even move his fingers.
He survived.
Even he himself didn't understand how he became the only survivor in this Campus during this massacre.
Maybe it's because Marathon only sprints in crowded places, or maybe it's because he hid in this pile of inconspicuous garbage in advance.
Eddie stretched out his hand and touched Video Camera in the muddy water next to him.
The peripheral media have long been forcibly driven away by the Disaster Control Bureau and the army.
At this moment, this muddy Video Camera became the only eye in the ruins looking to the outside world.
Eddie gritted his teeth and crawled out of the mud pit little by little.
He did not dare to stand up, so he could only kneel on the ground and focus the camera on the huge Meteorite pit in the distance.
The screen followed the satellite signal and instantly cut into the live broadcast rooms of All-America major news networks.
Hundreds of millions of eyes saw the scene at the bottom of the pit at the same second.
The man wearing the Stars and Stripes uniform, who seemed like he would never fall, was lying in the rubble covered in blood, motionless.
Beside him, stood three expressionless figures.
In less than half a minute, all news headlines on the Internet were replaced by red letters on a black background.
"Homelander, defeated!"
After a short period of dead silence, the entire America, and even the entire world, exploded.
Deafening cheers erupted from countless neighborhoods, bars, and office buildings.
The businessmen raised their glasses to celebrate that Vought International's iron hand stuck around their necks was finally broken.
The gangsters threw their banknotes into the air and reveled wantonly. They no longer had to worry about red lasers suddenly falling from the sky and burning them to ashes.
Politicians sat behind their desks, looking at the pictures on the screen and smiling with satisfaction.
They don't care who defeated Homelander.
In their eyes, Homelander is a lunatic who is inexperienced. Interests cannot move him and power cannot buy him.
Now that this biggest threat has been eliminated, the huge legacy left by Vought International will be eaten away and divided by them in a few days.
As for who are the two guys replacing Homelander?
It doesn't matter.
As long as you are a human being, as long as you have desires, you can feed them with benefits.
The situation can never be worse than now.
The cheers spread like a tsunami along the Internet and into reality.
The people who were stopped outside the Godolkin University perimeter cordon burst into thunderous cheers.
They high-fived each other and shouted that justice will prevail.
Amid the fanatical cheers, Marcus leaned against the armored vehicle with a cold face.
Logically speaking, he should be happier than anyone else.
If Vought falls, Disaster Control Bureau will naturally take over this mess.
He will become a favorite of all parties, be merciless in collecting money, and spend the rest of his life sleeping on banknotes.
But when he looked at the group of singing and dancing people in front of him, he couldn't laugh at all.
"Book me a flight."
Marcus stared at the cheering crowd with a hoarse voice, "Fly Europe, fly Asia, you can fly anywhere, right now, I quit."
He pulled off the badge and threw it into the sewer at his feet.
Inside Campus separated by a wall.
Marge, who was almost sucked and fucked, was sitting against a broken wall.
She stared blankly at the direction where Homelander fell, her chapped lips slightly open.
The cheers that came and went from the outside drifted into the ruins along the wind and fell clearly in her ears.
Marge A trace of deep sadness flashed in his eyes.
Back then, she followed Edgar to do dirty work and saw countless disgusting human natures, but she had never felt as absurd as she does today.
A man who desperately wanted to clean up the world fell in a pool of blood, while the people he protected were singing praises for the executioner.
She slowly closed her eyes, not wanting to look at this world that was confusing black and white.
Manhattan, Vought Tower.
The live broadcast from Eddie was also played on the TV screen.
Legend reached out and took out the cigar that had been biting in his mouth, broke it into two pieces with a click, and threw it into the trash can.
He looked at the fallen John on the screen. His whole body seemed to have been drained of energy, and he had aged ten years in an instant.
"This is good, I can finally retire."
Legend smiled self-deprecatingly, with deep weakness in his voice, "It's just that this is not a good place to retire. I'll probably have to stay in a federal prison."
In front of the desk, Ashley had already burst into tears.
She covered her face with her hands, and her makeup was messed up with tears.
"It's okay, girl."
Legend glanced at her and comforted her softly, "You are just an intern who has just joined the job. Even if those politicians and enemies want to liquidate Vought, they won't be able to liquidate you. You don't have to go to jail."
Ashley shook his head vigorously and burst into tears.
"I'm not afraid of going to jail..."
She put down her hand and looked at the man covered in blood on the screen with her red eyes.
"I don't understand, Mr. Legend. Chief Homelander is obviously a hero. He saves people every day. He has never done any bad things. Why is this happening? Why does everyone hate him?"
Legend looked out the window at the cheering New York streets and was silent for a long time.
Downstairs, press conference hall.
All the reporters ran away as soon as they got the news. The huge venue was in a mess, chairs fell to the floor, and discarded recorders and notebooks were everywhere.
Becca is sitting on the steps alone.
She didn't leave, nor did she read the news on her phone.
She just hugged her knees and shed tears silently.
The door was suddenly pushed open.
Butcher rushed in panting heavily.
His windbreaker was covered in dust, and his bloodshot eyes quickly scanned the empty venue.
When he saw the familiar figure sitting on the steps, Butcher's eyes turned red instantly.
He strode over and hugged Becca tightly into his arms.
"Becca... Thank God."
Butcher's voice was trembling. He buried his face in the woman's hair, as if he wanted to rub her into his body.
But the next second, Becca stretched out his hands, pressed hard on Butcher's chest, and pushed him half a step away.
Butcher was stunned.
He looked at Becca's eyes full of tears and disappointment.
"Why?"
Becca looked at the man he loved so much in front of him, his voice trembled terribly,
"Why do you want to help those monsters? Why do you want to help them?"
Butcher opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
He now knows he was taken advantage of.
But things have already been done, and he has become an accomplice in killing the hero.
Butcher didn't defend himself even a word.
He took a step forward, forced Becca's hands away from him, and held her tightly in his arms again.
"I'm sorry."
Butcher closed his eyes, tears sliding down his stubble-covered cheeks. He rested his chin on Becca's shoulder and repeated it over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."