Soldier Boy flew off, leaving an immense roar in his wake and sweeping up a vast swath of shattered glass.
A rain of glass fell beneath Vought Tower. Quite a few unlucky pedestrians suffered for it and began cursing furiously.
What they did not know was that the culprit behind this minor disaster was about to teach the man they had voted into office a lesson in tough love.
From more than ninety floors up, perhaps only Homelander could hear the pedestrians' complaints clearly.
But he had no attention to spare for them. Instead, he was caught in an inexplicable sense of awe, as were the others.
The usually unreliable Soldier Boy had actually shown genuine accountability and responsibility at a crucial moment.
His broad back seemed capable of holding up the entire world.
It felt good, like suddenly having a mountain stretching across the horizon behind them, putting them at ease.
As long as that mountain did not collapse, someone would always be there to back them up.
Homelander gazed into the distance, the restlessness in his heart settling at that moment. His silence did not mean his anger had faded, but that this was the final calm after it had erupted completely.
With all this godlike power, if he still had to keep looking over his shoulder, wouldn't that mean he had injected the compound for nothing?
"I'm the greatest superhero in the world. I'm flesh and blood. I... can do whatever I want."
Homelander murmured as though swearing an oath, the corners of his mouth lifting.
This time, there was not a trace of obsession or madness in his eyes. All that remained was boundless freedom and ease.
Queen Maeve, who stood closest to him, had not even had time to consider what those words meant before