Where do you think you're going?

The red glow of heat vision seared the entire archive room with deathly heat.

The old researchers could barely remain standing, their legs limp as noodles. Even Madelyn backed away in fear.

They all knew what would happen if Homelander lost control.

Yet Edgar remained where he stood without retreating a single step. Even his grip on his cane remained unchanged.

"You want to kill me?" Edgar asked calmly.

Homelander stared him down. "You think I wouldn't dare?"

The air began to sizzle. Madelyn could barely breathe, and she had no doubt the entire archive room would be vaporized the next second.

But Edgar merely looked at Homelander impassively, as though looking at a child having a meltdown-or rather, a dangerous asset that needed to be controlled.

"John, of course you would dare. You possess the greatest power in the world." Edgar paused. "And after you kill me?"

Homelander's breath caught, the red light lingering in his eyes without firing.

"What would you gain? A father's love? A family? Or that pathetic sense of security of yours?"

Every sentence was a knife, stabbing precisely into Homelander's most vulnerable spots.

"Are you really not afraid to die?" Homelander growled. Through his super-hearing, Edgar's heartbeat remained steady, showing no sign of speeding up.

But Edgar continued, "Soldier Boy told you the truth, and now you've burst into the archive room like a child who can't find his way home."

"What are you trying to prove? That you're not a monster manufactured in a lab?" A contemptuous curve rose on his lips.

"But you're still a product manufactured by Vought. That will never change."

The next second.

Heat vision shot past Edgar's scalp.

The steel wall behind him burned straight through, the melted metal slowly flowing.

"Oh my God!" Madelyn cried.

Several researchers collapsed to the floor in terror, but Edgar didn't even blink.

Homelander's chest heaved, a sense of helplessness rising inside him. Edgar's heartbeat hadn't changed once.

It remained steady and strong, maintaining the even rhythm of someone in control of everything.

Why?

Why wasn't this old bastard afraid of him?!

Edgar remained calm. "John, you should thank Vought."

"We gave you all that brute strength. Without Vought, you're nothing but a failed specimen."

Those words finally struck Homelander's last nerve.

Homelander lunged in front of Edgar, seized him by the throat, and held the life of Vought's true power holder in his hand.

Madelyn went deathly pale. "John!"

Edgar's feet left the ground, and he struggled to breathe, but his eyes remained calm, even carrying a trace of mockery.

"See, this is why we couldn't let you know the truth. You can never control your emotions."

He forced the words through clenched teeth with difficulty, yet they were still a personal attack on Homelander.

Homelander's teeth ground audibly. He wanted to kill this old bastard. He wanted it badly.

Edgar's face swelled, his eyes growing bloodshot as he nearly suffocated, but his gaze remained filled with condescending calm.

Faint, disdainful, disappointed.

Homelander suddenly realized that deep in his subconscious, he was still trying to win these people's approval.

The feeling sickened him enough to make him vomit, but it had long since become the underlying shade of his soul, impossible to relinquish.

"You..." Homelander's voice trembled. "You goddamn bastard."

In the end, he let go.

Thud.

Edgar fell to the floor, gasping for breath, yet the very first thing he did was straighten his tie.

Then, as though nothing had happened, he coughed twice and said:

"John, you made the right choice. Vought will eliminate all negative press about you. Your approval rating won't fall."

He sniffed and turned to leave, offering one final remark. "Soldier Boy can return to the Seven."

"You and your father will be Vought's strongest advertising draw."

Homelander stared hard at his retreating back, no longer having any desire to attack. He couldn't bring himself to do it anyway.

Edgar's parting words sounded like ordinary praise, but they were also the threat Homelander feared most.

His meaning was obvious: if Homelander strayed from his wishes, his approval rating would plummet at a terrifying speed.

With the power Edgar held, a single casual sentence could have Homelander shelved.

Desperately starved of love, Homelander had repeatedly regarded Edgar as a "psychological father."

The rejection and suppression this man who didn't fear him inflicted on his psyche were precisely the shackles he had been conditioned to wear since childhood.

"Damn it." Homelander punched the laboratory wall.

An enormous crater appeared in the extra-thick reinforced concrete.

The rage inside him desperately needed an outlet, and he thought of someone.

Black Noir.

The conference room on the 99th floor.

The Deep drank water to steady his nerves, while Translucent watched his phone screen, invisible.

"Hey, man, could you mute it when you watch that stuff?" The Deep complained weakly, his eyes never leaving Black Noir.

Homelander had told him to keep a close watch on Black Noir.

Meanwhile, Black Noir's body kept trembling, and his cartoon friends were nearly frantic.

The rabbit screamed wildly, "Soldier Boy's going to beat our brains out!"

The little beaver clutched his head and broke down sobbing. "Homelander knows too! We're dead!"

His breathing grew increasingly rapid.

Run. He had to run. Right now.

Black Noir abruptly turned and charged toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, his speed surpassing his limits.

The Deep was dumbfounded. "Holy shit! Noir, are you crazy?"

He hurriedly lunged forward, but Black Noir was too fast. Fortunately, Translucent was near the windows and just managed to intercept him.

Bam!

Black Noir drove an elbow into Translucent's face, instantly caving in his nose and sending him flying sideways.

The Deep finally reached him and lunged at his back, but Black Noir seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He grabbed The Deep's arm behind him and hurled him over his shoulder, slamming him into the conference table.

The solid wood conference table shattered. The Deep screamed, feeling as though every bone in his body had broken.

Black Noir was too strong.

He was Vought's true top assassin. Someone like The Deep was no different from a toy to him.

Black Noir dealt with both superheroes in mere seconds and continued charging desperately toward the glass, intending to escape by jumping out the window.

Taking the elevator from the 99th floor was too slow. Jumping off the building was more practical.

But just then, a tremendous crash rang out, as though someone were smashing through walls.

All his cartoon friends froze at once.

The rabbit slowly turned his head in terror. "He's here..."

The next second.

Boom!

A huge hole burst open in the conference room floor on the 99th floor, and Homelander floated in midair.

He had smashed his way from the top-secret underground archive room to the 99th floor in less than a second.

Vought Tower had been pierced straight through from within.

Before Black Noir could turn around, his vision blurred, and Homelander appeared before him almost as though he had teleported.

"Where do you think you're going?"