Try to Feel Real Emotions, John

Annie laughed happily, a faint, warm glow lighting up in her palm out of habit. Then she turned and ran back toward the grill to get Lynn the seasoning bottles.

John watched Annie walk away, then looked at the half ear of corn in his hand.

Over the past few months, he had grown used to playing the perfect god before the cameras, used to taming others with forgiveness and hope.

He knew how to make these people worship him even more devotedly.

But today was different.

There were no cameras here, and Lynn had told him there would be no training today.

"Does it feel a little noisy?"

At some point, Lynn had come over with two plates piled with grilled meat. He sat down across from John and pushed one of the plates toward him.

"A little."

John made no attempt to hide it. He took a sip of ice-cold cola. "Reggie's heartbeat is too fast when he runs, Tommy keeps swallowing, and there's the sound of Buddy's tail brushing against the grass. Back in the sterile room, I would have found all these sounds annoying."

"And now?"

Lynn picked up his knife and fork and cut into a tender, juicy steak.

"Now..."

John watched the children running around the lawn after a Frisbee. "Now I think that, if I don't deliberately heighten my senses, these sounds aren't actually that bad. At least you look happy, Lynn."

Lynn paused in cutting his meat and looked up at the blond boy before him.

Although he could not read minds, he knew what John was thinking.

In this world, perhaps the only person John truly cared about was him-the "father" who had stayed by his side as he grew up and rescued him from hell.

Most of John's restraint and pretense now were for the sake of making him happy.

Lynn set down his knife and fork, pulled out a napkin, and wiped his hands. His voice was gentle.

"John, I'm happy not just because the weather is nice today or because the barbecue tastes good. I'm happy because I see you sitting here eating grilled corn like a normal little boy, instead of being locked in a cold laboratory to test how many steel plates your laser eyes can burn through."

Something flickered in John's blue eyes.

"Here at this company called Vought, a lot of things are beyond our control. They need you to be a perfect idol, and they need you to make money for them. We can play along with what they want. It keeps us a little safer."

Lynn looked at John, his gaze sincere and calm. "But outside of that act, I hope you can understand that these children, and many ordinary people out there, may be fragile, but they aren't all toys you can do whatever you want with.

"Just like when Annie brought you that corn. It wasn't because she was afraid of you, or because she worshipped Homelander on TV. She simply thought of you as a good big brother who looked after her."

John listened in silence.

He looked down at the grilled meat on his plate, then at Annie, who was still playing in the distance.

"Try to feel real emotions, John."

Lynn reached out and ruffled the boy's golden hair. "Even if it's only a tiny part of them. It'll make you feel that this world isn't actually so boring."

Just then, an "Ow!" came from the lawn.

It was Reggie, the Black boy with super speed.

He had been running too fast and accidentally tripped over a stone in the grass, rolling several times before he came to a stop.

Although he was physically tougher than ordinary children, it had still been a nasty fall.

Reggie sat on the ground with a scraped knee, thin traces of blood seeping out.

Tommy and Annie hurried over to him, unsure what to do.

Reggie bit his lip, tears already welling in his eyes.

But he did not dare cry. His memories of the underground laboratory told him that injuries and mistakes often meant being locked in solitary confinement by those adults in white coats.

He looked toward Lynn and John at the picnic table in alarm.

Lynn was just about to get up and check on him when he saw that John, sitting across from him, had already risen first.

John walked over to Reggie without assuming his usual lofty pose as The Chosen One, or putting on that carefully calculated smile meant to reassure people.

He merely frowned slightly, like an ordinary older boy from next door, then crouched in front of Reggie.

"Why were you running so fast? There's no padding under this lawn."

John sighed and took a bandage out of his pocket, though he did not know when it had been put there. He tore open the wrapper and applied it to Reggie's scraped knee, his movements a little clumsy but very careful.

Reggie froze, forcing his tears back.

"Does it still hurt?" John stood up and looked down at him.

"N-no, not anymore. Thank you, big brother John."

Reggie stammered, tilting his head up to look at John standing against the light.

Although John was not wearing his suit, in this six-year-old boy's eyes, he was more reassuring now than the superhero flying through the sky on TV.

John said nothing more. He simply reached out and patted Reggie on the shoulder, then turned and walked back to the picnic table.

Lynn sat watching John return, unable to stop a heartfelt smile from lifting the corners of his mouth.

John's movements were still a little stiff, and that ingrained sense of looking down on the weak had not yet completely disappeared.

But at least in this moment, he had not treated Reggie as a pawn whose loyalty needed to be bought. He had genuinely cared for a child who had fallen.

This was the best possible beginning.

The afternoon sunlight gradually softened, its golden afterglow spilling across the green lawn and stretching the children's shadows long.

The charcoal in the grill was almost out, giving off a faint smoky scent.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, Buddy lay snoring at Lynn's feet.

No one spoke. They simply enjoyed this rare moment of leisure in silence.

Lynn leaned back in his wooden chair and watched the sunset clouds on the horizon, mentally working out how to cut Vanguard Camp's daily training hours a little further once he returned to the office tomorrow.