"Women are like wine. The older they get, the better they taste."
In an upscale New York hotel, Soldier Boy lounged in the bathtub, taking great swigs of whiskey and shaking his head as he cracked jokes, thoroughly enjoying himself.
The system chose that moment to spoil his fun.
[Ding.] [Key plot point detected.] [Mission issued: Make Homelander feel "protected" for the first time.] [Mission reward: Speed ability upgrade card (special)]
"Huh?" He frowned. "You damned system, you're going for the sentimental route?"
[...] [According to the system's findings.] [Homelander has never been protected by anyone.]
The roguish look slowly faded from Soldier Boy's face. After a moment of silence, he climbed out of the bathtub.
"Make Homelander feel protected?" He looked thoughtful.
Being protected, especially by his own biological father, would certainly make Homelander feel loved.
And making Homelander feel loved was Soldier Boy's goal, as well as an essential step toward correcting his personality.
It was hard for someone who had never been loved to learn how to love others.
He quickly searched his memories of the original show. At this point in the timeline, Butcher's team had not yet formed. Homelander did not seem to need protection.
Would the system issue a mission without reason?
It was possible. This fucking thing had played him before.
[Reminder: This mission reward is not available in the system store and cannot be redeemed. It can raise your superpower by two levels.]
As if it knew what Soldier Boy was thinking, the system dangled the temptation at just the right moment.
The rain grew heavier, rattling against the windows.
In a flash of inspiration, Soldier Boy figured out how to complete the mission.
Meanwhile, at Vought International Tower.
The air in the top-secret underground section was oppressively thick. The elevator doors slowly opened.
Homelander stood there without moving. Before him stretched a silvery-white corridor, its lighting cold, the air filled with the smell of paper and a faint trace of disinfectant.
His breathing grew heavier as childhood memories began to surge.
The searing heat of the incinerator.
His young self had howled and sobbed, but his tears had sizzled dry the instant they spilled.
He had looked pleadingly at the people in white coats beyond the glass, begging the man named Frank to let him out.
But what had he seen?
"Yes!" Standing three meters from the trash can, Frank tossed in the last ball of paper and pumped his fist in celebration.
"The test subject's vital signs are normal. Keep raising the temperature."
John's suffering had mattered less than a ball of paper.
Homelander's gaze began to lose focus. He could not help imagining that Soldier Boy really was his father.
He seemed to see that man he could call his father breaking into the laboratory, killing all the researchers, and taking him away...
Standing behind him, Madelyn spoke cautiously. "John, we're here."
"Shut up," Homelander said softly. Having his fantasy interrupted annoyed him a little.
Madelyn immediately fell silent, humiliation creeping into her heart.
She had never seen Homelander like this. Usually, all she had to do was crook a finger, and this ridiculous, supposedly strongest superhuman would crawl into her arms like an overgrown baby.
Homelander had never defied her so many times in a single day.
Never!
It all stemmed from Soldier Boy.
A trace of disgust and hatred for Soldier Boy rose within her.
Homelander moved, slowly walking up to the blast door of the archives.
"Authorization failed."
An electronic voice sounded.
"I'll swipe my card." Madelyn followed behind him, holding a vice president's access card.
Homelander ignored him and gave a gentle push. The walls shook violently, rubble showered down from the ceiling, and the heavy blast door swung open under one hand as easily as if it were made of paper.
Defenses built with humanity's finest industrial technology became a joke.
The highest-level alarm instantly rang throughout Vought Tower.
Inside, numerous security personnel stood ramrod straight, but none moved to stop him.
Were they kidding? This was a military-grade Type A composite armored door with level-five ballistic and blast protection. It weighed a full two tons, with all sixteen locking bolts engaged.
Now someone had simply forced it open. What were they supposed to stop him with? Why risk their lives for a few thousand a month?
Homelander walked farther inside, step by step, and stopped in the core section of Vought's archives, his eyes fixed on what lay ahead.
An old man was already standing there, his suit immaculate, one hand resting lightly on a cane, his eyes as still as stagnant water.
Stan Edgar, Vought's true master.
His low, aged voice rang out. "I knew you'd come here."
Behind him stood several gray-haired senior researchers. Their faces visibly paled the instant they saw Homelander.
At their age, they had been working overtime recording files, only for their boss to arrive, retrieve a classified file none of them had ever seen, and place it in their hands.
Had they known it concerned Homelander, they would not have stayed here even under threat of death.
Homelander stared at Edgar. "You knew I was coming."
"Of course," Edgar replied calmly. "Because the test subject is unstable and has dared to defy Vought."
In all of Vought, only Edgar dared speak to Homelander that way.
Yet Homelander did not lash out, because right now, there was only one question in his mind.
Homelander spoke slowly. "Soldier Boy said he's my father."
He noticeably paused over the word "father," utterly unused to saying it.
The hall fell deathly silent. Several researchers began breathing rapidly.
"It's true." Edgar fell silent for two seconds, standing perfectly still.
"Give it to him."
No explanation, no reassurance. He barely spared a word.
An elderly researcher behind him hurriedly handed Homelander the top-secret file.
Boom.
It felt as though something had slammed into Homelander's brain.
Looking at the file right in front of him, Homelander trembled and took it numbly.
His arms, normally possessed of immense strength, now seemed to have lost their power. Like an old man with Parkinson's, he needed several attempts to open the file box.
The first thing he saw was a stack of old photographs, capturing Vought's laboratory as it had been decades ago.
Behind the photographs were stacks of documents. The title on the first page was marked in red: No. 001 Artificial Supe Cultivation Report. Genetic donor codename: Soldier Boy.
Homelander's hands shook harder and harder, his expression twisting. "No, no, no."
He was on the verge of breaking down.
When he finally reached the last page, the entire process had been documented, from obtaining the sample through deception, to cell fusion, embryo formation, and his removal from the cultivation chamber.
Homelander's grip on the papers tightened and tightened. His breathing quickened, his heat vision lit up, and he demanded through gritted teeth, "Why did you lie to me?"
Edgar answered calmly:
"Because you're unstable."
"You're not human."
"You're just a Vought product."
Crack.
The file in Homelander's hands was crushed to pieces.
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