For the first time, Homelander clearly sensed that everything was quietly slipping out of his control.
He could not seize power at Vought, keep the arrogant Edgar in check, or hold on to those around him who only pretended to obey. He could not even completely suppress Solomon, whose sudden rise threatened his position at every turn.
That godlike sense of control, etched into his bones as he imagined himself above all living beings, was crumbling and fading bit by bit.
Extreme panic, anxiety, and rage intertwined, utterly overwhelming his already twisted, fragile mind.
The night wind howled, and hazy moonlight gently shrouded his lonely, obsessive figure like a thin veil.
Yet that gentle moonlight did nothing to soothe the violence within him. Instead, it made him seem all the more deranged and twisted.
The immense mental pressure completely crushed the last of his reason, and he began venting his unease and sense of lost control in the most obsessive, twisted way.
He took a deep breath, slowly took off his pants, and reached down.
He looked down upon the countless people beneath his feet. Those insignificant, lowly ordinary people, who could only rely on his protection, were the only beings left that he could control at will.
Overwhelming emotion exploded in his chest. His expression kept contorting, turning hideous as every trace of false benevolence fell away, leaving only an obsession bordering on madness.
A faint crimson glow flickered in his eyes, and a hoarse, deranged roar slowly rang out across the empty, silent rooftop:
"I am Homelander!"
"I can do whatever I want! This world will always be under my control, and no one can escape!"
He growled and roared again and again, numbing himself with arrogant declarations to fight the surging sense of lost control within him.