"Do you really want Ryan to grow up into another you? To spend his whole life living for other people's opinions, desperately craving their approval and yearning for their validation?"
"That hollow adulation and approval are utterly useless. They only bind you tight. They're your greatest weakness."
"If Ryan grows up with you, your influence will make him just as obsessive as you, craving acceptance, swept along by his emotions, constrained by worldly expectations, inheriting every shortcoming and vulnerability you have."
"The truly strong don't need these useless attachments. Ryan shouldn't have weaknesses, and neither should you."
"So he's not the only one who needs to learn and reshape his character. You need to train too. Abandon these useless obsessions completely. Remember, in this world, absolute strength is the only thing that truly counts."
These words were not some spur-of-the-moment lecture from Solomon, but a decision he had carefully considered.
Superpowers were never a fixed ceiling. Refinement, development, and training could keep pushing strength beyond its limits.
Homelander had exceptional talent and balanced attributes, yet he had never seriously honed or developed his abilities. He spent his days immersed in empty fame and other people's approval, swayed by his emotions and trapped by his obsessions.
If he could train consistently over the years like A-Train, work on his abilities, and keep tapping into his potential, his strength would certainly improve further.
Homelander stood rooted to the spot and parted his lips, a tangle of feelings filling his heart.
Rationally, he knew perfectly well that all that supposed approval and praise were empty and meaningless.
But the inferiority and obsession etched into his bones ultimately made him unable to let go. He had spent his whole life craving other people's validation.
Besides, asking the lofty, invincible Homelander to humble himself and