"Only"
"Clatter!"
Not long after, the inner door was pushed open from the outside with a loud bang.
John walked in slowly, one hand in his pocket and the other around the back of someone's collar.
The man was now covered in black dust from the ground, his chest heaving violently, and his legs felt as weak as cement.
John's strength held him up, preventing him from collapsing on the spot.
Everyone quickly recognized it as A-Train.
Hughie was somewhat stunned.
Two weeks ago, A-Train was in good condition. He started the withdrawal plan at John's urging and was full of enthusiasm.
But now, his face was extremely pale.
(Actually, it's hard for me to describe how to make a Black person white, since it's a bit too Hell, so you can get the general idea.)
(Just kidding)
His eyes were sunken, and his lips were bluish-purple; he looked like he was about to die.
John's wrist loosened slightly, and the A-Train, losing its support, immediately staggered and knelt on the ground.
He barely managed to prop himself up with one hand, then began to cough violently.
"What happened?"
The Mother's Milk asked.
The A-Train was so upset that it didn't say anything. After a long while, it finally managed to raise its head.
His bloodshot eyes swept over Hughie and Frenchie, finally fixing on John.
"I explored every abandoned subway station in Brooklyn, one by one..."
Just four days ago, Homelander kicked me out of the Seven, and ever since then, my old enemies have been coming after me... I have no choice but to run.
"I've made up my mind... I'm going to play the New Version of Compound V directly."
"Your heart muscle is practically swollen like O'Neal's; even the old version of Compound V couldn't handle it, and you dare touch the new one?"
"If you shoot me, you'll fucking die on the spot, you believe me?"
Frenchie patted his head and closed his eyes.
"Never mind."
The A-Train's gaze was exceptionally stubborn.
He was unwilling to accept it.
"If things remain like this, it's no different from being dead."
He couldn't accept the feeling of falling from the clouds into a cesspool.
He also has a family to support, and a girlfriend to take care of (I didn't kill off the Female here).
If he loses this respectable job, he will soon be purged by his former enemies.
He had previously hesitated to inject the new compound because he was afraid of the risks.
He didn't dare gamble; at least he had a backup plan.
But now, that escape route has been abruptly cut off by his very "bread and butter".
Mother's Milk raised an eyebrow and turned to look at John.
"Get the first-aid kit ready and give him the injection."
"Ah?"
Frenchie was taken aback.
"His heart really can't take it anymore; the mortality rate is at least 80%."
"I know."
"But when I looked at his heart, I saw that he had just used up most of his strength, and his heartbeat was getting slower and slower."
If he doesn't take the injection, he could have a heart attack at any time, and he would die anyway.
Therefore, there is no difference.
At this point, even if the A-Train heard John's words, which were practically a death sentence, it wouldn't matter anymore.
He slowly stood up, supporting himself on the table, and laboriously rolled up his sleeves.
"Fine, let's overthrow this world!"
Frenchie shrugged, pulled out a whole tube of the new compound, and turned back to stare seriously at the A-Train.
"Let me tell you again, this thing is incredibly powerful once it goes in; it forcibly reshapes every cell in your body."
Especially your heart, it will be the first to be affected. It's not too late to regret it now.
"I'm sure."
The A-Train gritted its teeth and pushed its arm forward.
"Beat."
Frenchie said no more.
To fulfill the destiny of others.
The dark red liquid slowly flowed into the veins, and just as it was halfway in, the A-Train's body suddenly jolted.
The next second, his muscles began to spasm uncontrollably, and it felt like something was slowly vibrating beneath his skin.
But as time went by, the vibrations intensified, and the entire A-Train began to shake.
Moreover, it wasn't a normal tremor; he transformed into a blur, constantly shifting between solid and ethereal forms in place.
(For details, please refer to the irregular molecular oscillations in the Flash series.)
At this point, the A-Train was barely conscious.
With his body's molecules vibrating irregularly, half of his foot was already sunk into the concrete, creating a scene reminiscent of science fiction.
You can imagine that a hard surface, under high-frequency vibrations, offers no resistance and is as soft as melted butter to A-Train.
His feet were still sinking deeper.
At this rate, within minutes, the entire A-Train will be completely absorbed into the earth, like water seeping into a sponge.
Then it mixes with the concrete underneath, is passively buried alive, and years later it will become an unsolved case unknown to anyone.
John stood three meters away, squinting as he carefully observed the condition of the A-Train.
To be honest, in his previous life, he had witnessed many Superman going out of control in Vought's lab.
But this time, the A-Train's loss of control manifested in a completely different form.
It's more like... something he learned about in his high school textbooks called particles.
If particles are in an oscillating state, they are likely to move erratically.
He couldn't quite remember the specific principle, but anyway, physical objects couldn't touch "them".
In other words, only by slowing down or stopping the vibration of the particles on the A-Train can we prevent it from sinking.
John frowned slightly at this thought.
If you try to force it down with your own Bioelectric Field, you will only be shaken apart from the inside by this pervasive high-frequency oscillation, which will only accelerate its disintegration.
The essence of velocity is molecular vibration, which cannot be blocked by force; we must change our approach.
It was at this moment that John suddenly thought of a fundamental principle of thermodynamics.
Thermal expansion and contraction.
When the ambient temperature is high, the movement of particles will accelerate.
Conversely, in extremely low-temperature environments, particles will gradually slow down and approach zero speed.
Coincidentally, he had just awakened the corresponding ability.
Freeze Breath.
Having made up his mind, John walked up to the A-Train.
He slowly raised his left hand, palm facing the chest cavity of the A-Train, his five fingers curling very lightly.
The next second, the invisible biological force transformed into a materialless sensory membrane, silently adhering to the entire body of the A-Train along with the aftershocks of the vibrations in the air.
He needed to ensure that all the cold air could circulate throughout the A-Train.
John then observed intently.
With his Microscopic Vision Insight, he could clearly perceive billions of particles moving randomly around each other beneath the force field membrane, a truly spectacular sight.
Now for the next step.
John's mind raced, and he slightly opened his mouth, releasing a chill that was almost tangible.
As the cold air accumulates, it gradually seeps into the "confinement chamber" made of Bioelectric Field, dissipating into the confined space of the human body.
One second, two seconds.
Suddenly, patches of ice flowers spread across the force field of the invisible matter, and then began to sweep across the entire covering layer.
The A-Train, which was vibrating, was completely surrounded.
(Those who are curious can check out the scene of bubbles freezing into ice; it's quite beautiful.)
At first, the particles continued moving at their original speed.
But as the cold air continued to penetrate, their movements began to slow down.
The frost climbed along the gaps in the molecules, slowly spreading from the core of the chest cavity to the limbs and bones.
The A-Train's body was still instinctively resisting, the vibration frequency was constantly increasing, trying to break free of these shackles.
The thin film of the position was also pushed up, causing ripples to appear continuously.
"..."
A thin layer of sweat appeared on John's forehead.
He steadied his wrist and slowly tightened the boundary of the force field, pressing the almost dissipating phantom back into the humanoid outline.
The vibration stopped shortly afterward.
The layers of afterimages suddenly overlapped, and the A-Train's half-crouched form solidified completely.
His shoe finally stopped an inch below the concrete surface, and he collapsed to the ground, completely losing consciousness.
John kept his left hand raised in a raised position, twisted his neck, and then lowered his hand.
"Lift him to the rocking chair."
With everything settled, John was about to take a short break when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket.
John pursed his lips, somewhat speechless; he now disliked anything that vibrated.
He took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it.
" Maeve is coming."
Just then, Frenchie had just lifted the A-Train onto the rocking chair and was about to connect the pulse monitor when he heard this and immediately looked up:
"She agreed to our conditions?"
"I told you before, she would agree; it was just a matter of time."
John gestured with his chin towards the storage room at the far end of the laboratory.
"Get him in first. Maeve isn't entirely on our side yet; we mustn't leak any secrets."
This "he" is naturally the A-Train that just crawled back from the brink of death.
OK.
Mother's Milk immediately stepped forward and took two steps to put her arm around the A-Train's arm, Hughie also quickly came over to help.
The two men, supporting the limp, dilapidated front of the car, tiptoed toward the storage room.
The place used to be filled with abandoned subway dispatching equipment, but after clearing out half of it, there was more than enough room for one person.
"Lock the door, and turn the monitor volume down to the lowest setting."
Frenchie followed behind, pulling over a waterproof sheet to cover the instrument.
"This thing has such a strong penetrating power when it drips; you can hear it even through a wall. I'm not comfortable with it."
Hughie fastened the door lock, then suddenly remembered something.
"Do you think Maeve's senses... could detect smells? I've heard her senses are several times stronger than the average person's."
"Who cares? She's just here to negotiate a deal, not to buy up sugar."
Frenchie curled his lip, turned around, and quickly returned to the lab table to clean up the mess.
"If she really exposes our secrets, it won't do her any good."
At this moment, the Mother's Milk leaning against the wall, arms crossed, said in a deep voice:
"She came to us, most likely because of Starlight."
Butcher's informant at Vought told me that a few days ago Vought issued an internal notice that Starlight was being held in the 55th level of the Superman prison.
Edgar used this incident to carry out a major internal purge, Maeve's life is definitely not going to be easy."
John had excellent hearing and overheard everything they said.
But he didn't say anything; he simply walked to the old, chipped iron table in the center of the room and sat down.
Then he pulled over a rusty iron chair, tapped his fingertips lightly on the edge of the table, and looked up at Cate.
"When Maeve comes in later, don't test her. Maeve's mental resistance is much stronger than that of ordinary Superman."
Cate blinked upon hearing this.
"How about... I just touch her lightly? She definitely won't notice."
"What ever."
"Just don't suffer any losses."
Kimiko, standing in the shadows nearby, shook her head slightly upon hearing this and gestured "Be careful" in sign language.
Cate stuck her tongue out at her and didn't argue further.
Just as things were settled here, very light footsteps came from deep within the passage.
They've arrived.
Frenchie quickly pushed his goggles up to his head, pretending to be tidying up the wiring components.
Mother's Milk and Hughie sat down at the plastic card table in the corner, picked up the playing cards, spread them out, and pretended to play.
Cate straightened up, adjusted her clothes, and stood a little behind John.
Kimiko quietly retreated behind a pillar to the side of the door.
The footsteps grew closer and closer, finally stopping outside the iron gate.
The iron gate was gently pushed open a crack from the outside, and the wind blew in dust. The light from the incandescent bulb flickered, illuminating a tall figure outside the door.
Maeve stood in the doorway.
She wasn't wearing her uniform today, just a coat.
His eyes, hidden beneath the brim of his hat, swept over everyone in the room before finally settling steadily on John behind the table.
She didn't stand on ceremony, stepped inside, and pulled out a chair to sit down.
"I can agree to help you, but I have two conditions. If you can't meet them, I'll leave immediately."
John leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of his stomach, gesturing for her to continue.
"First, I need you to rescue Starlight from the 55th floor of the Superman prison."
Secondly, I must ensure the absolute safety of my girlfriend Elena.
She's currently living in the Wusu Apartments in Brooklyn's Old Town, which is now filled with Edgar's informants.
At this point, Maeve's eyes noticeably turned colder.
"Once it's done, I'll give you the data and information you need, including the black box and the backup videos."
"The deal is done. Let Elena come with me. What kind of mess Vought becomes, or whether you want to rule the world, is none of my business."
Don't look for us again.
After he finished speaking, the room suddenly became quiet.
Hughie, clutching the cards and Mother's Milk, subconsciously looked up at John.
Just a few days ago, Butcher received information from his informant that Vought had obtained the stock solution of Compound V1.
Among the conditions they initially offered to Maeve was the option to obtain information about Compound V1.
However, John was not nervous when he heard the news.
Because he knew very well that with Vought's current scientific research capabilities, plus the brain-dead Sage's abilities, they couldn't completely replicate this compound.
Is it useful for trading?
Stop the increase in laughter.
Thinking of this, his gaze calmly fell on Maeve's face, and he spoke.
"Can."
Maeve was taken aback for a moment.
She had prepared herself for rejection before she came, since rescuing Starlight carried a great risk of exposure.
That place was Vought's headquarters.
If the operation goes wrong, it will definitely provoke a backlash from within Vought, and could even completely expose John and the others' identities.
If Edgar finds out that there are two " Homelander " in the world, and that this one is stronger, then we're truly doomed.
She had planned how to deal with John's difficult behavior before she came, but she didn't expect it to go so smoothly.
You trust me that much?
"Maybe."
John's tone was unreadable.
"I have plenty of room for trial and error... The Vought you see might not be as terrifying as he seems."
Maeve stared at him for a few seconds, trying to read something from his face.
But John's eyes were calm, revealing nothing.
"OK."
Maeve withdrew her gaze and said no more.
"You set the time for the operation, I'll fully cooperate... If anything goes wrong, it's on me."
"No rush."
John first pointed to Frenchie, who was standing next to him.
"I'm sure Butcher has already told you about them, so I won't go into details."
Then, his gaze shifted to his side.
"This is Cate."
Cate took a half step forward, gave a sweet smile, and flicked her fingertips.
" Queen Maeve, I've heard so much about you."
As he spoke, a tiny, fine mental tentacle quietly reached out and gently wrapped around the edge of Maeve's consciousness.
But the moment the tentacle touched the surface of Maeve's consciousness, she suddenly raised her eyes and looked at her.
The two stared at each other for a second.
Cate was still smiling, but her hand was already on John's body, pinching him hard.
John glanced at Cate, ignoring her claws, and then pointed at Kimiko in the shadows.
" Kimiko."
Kimiko emerged from behind the pillar, nodded slightly to Maeve, her expression unchanged.
Maeve's gaze paused on her fingertips, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes.
She could sense the murderous aura emanating from this silent girl; it was the ruthlessness of someone who had truly seen blood and killed.
Where did they find them?
After everyone had finished introducing themselves, John raised his hand and tapped the table.
Frenchie immediately understood, turned around, pulled a rolled-up sheet of paper from under the lab bench, and slammed it onto the iron table with a "whoosh".
This is an architectural floor plan of the Vought Tower, provided by an informant and created by John from memory.