As the conference room door swung open, a tremendous crash came from inside.
Chen Mo walked in chewing gum, both hands in his pockets. He moved at an unhurried pace, looking relaxed, as though he had come to watch the fun.
The moment he entered, he saw the mess strewn across the floor.
Solid-steel, life-size statues of The Seven lay toppled over. Five deep finger holes marked the chest of Homelander's statue, and its star-spangled cape had snapped in two. An antique vase beside it had also shattered, its white porcelain shards mixed with spilled wine in a mess on the expensive carpet.
The conference table was no better off than the floor. Cracks ran across its surface all the way to the seat at its head. Several emergency PR documents lay scattered on the floor, some already burned to ash.
Homelander stood facing the wall with his hands behind his back.
His face was dark, his hands clenched behind him. His usually immaculate blond hair was somewhat disheveled, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. The red glow in his eyes had yet to fade completely. His face was filled with barely contained fury at having been humiliated.
Chen Mo nearly laughed out loud.
The enormous LCD television on the wall was still replaying live news footage from Times Square.
Onscreen, a balding man clutched a microphone, his face flushed crimson and the veins in his neck bulging.
"Homelander's Heat Vision caused the plane to crash! After pulling that shit, the bastard in the stars and stripes ran off and left over a hundred of us behind. He even wanted to burn us all to death with the lasers from his eyes."
The camera cut to a little girl.
She huddled in her mother's arms, tears still on her face and a doll clutched in her hand. Her voice trembled.
"He said if anyone moved, he'd use his Heat Vision to send us to God."
The conference room was frighteningly quiet.
Stan Edgar sat at the head of the table, expressionless, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he looked at a tablet.
On the screen, a green line was plunging off a cliff.
Outside the door, Ashley paced anxiously up and down the hallway. She had torn at her already thinning hair, leaving it even messier, and was shouting something into her phone in a low voice.
Chen Mo went over to the conference table, pulled out a swivel chair and sat down, propping both legs straight up on the cracked tabletop.
Pop.
A pink bubble burst at his lips.
He leisurely rolled the gum back into his mouth, sounding perfectly sincere.
"If you ask me, this can still be salvaged."
Homelander whipped his head around to look at him.
Chen Mo raised a hand, as though offering serious advice.
"Don't try to whitewash it now. That's the wrong approach. We can just admit that the captain's playing the ruthless type, that he doesn't save useless people. The fans might even think he's got character. These days, people let good looks decide their morals. With the captain's face, it could totally work."
Several executives couldn't keep their expressions straight.
Edgar looked up at Chen Mo but said nothing.
The corner of Homelander's eye twitched violently.
Chen Mo couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from curling upward.
He had done all of it.
He had saved the plane, posed as Blood Angel, and ground Homelander's face into the dirt from afar.
Now he was sitting right in front of the man himself, helping him come up with terrible ideas.
How could he describe the feeling?
It was as refreshing as putting on new underwear to welcome the New Year.
"We could change the merchandise too," Chen Mo continued, talking nonsense. "Instead of selling perfect-hero figurines, we could sell a limited red-eye edition. We could bundle it with Flesh Angel too. That might even boost his popularity."
Homelander took a step forward.
Crack.
A fissure split the marble floor beneath his foot.
He stared fixedly at Chen Mo, the red glow in his eyes flaring. His voice made the fragments of the ceiling chandelier tremble.
"A-Train, shut your damn mouth."
Chen Mo looked at him, then at the crack in the floor, and sensibly raised both hands.
"All right, all right, I'll shut up."
That was what he said, but the look of someone enjoying the show didn't change in the slightest.
Homelander's chest heaved even harder.
An urge to tear the piece of trash in front of him apart on the spot surged through him.
But A-Train was still a core asset of The Seven, one of Vought International's trump cards for diverting attention in this storm.
More importantly, he wasn't sure.
He wasn't sure what this piece of trash actually knew.
Nor was he sure whether that crimson angel might come crawling out of some corner again.
Homelander clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. The red light in his eyes flickered before he finally forced it down.
Seeing him like that, Chen Mo put on an even more innocent expression.
He even nodded lightly, as though taking the admonishment seriously.
Hold it in.
He told himself.
Whatever you do, hold it in.
If you make a move now, I'll be forced to act in self-defense.
On the other side of the conference room, Annie had been sitting in the corner the whole time.
The coffee in front of her had long since gone cold, but the cup was still trembling slightly on the table.
She hadn't said a word since the first survivor's interview aired on television.
The little girl's voice echoed from the screen again and again.
"If anyone moved, he'd use his Heat Vision to send us to God."
Annie's face grew paler by the second.
She had long known how corrupt Vought International was, and that its superheroes weren't like the ones in fairy tales.
The Deep disgusted her.
The Seven's conduct had shattered her ideals.
The executives in the conference room made her feel like she couldn't breathe.
But Homelander was different.
He was the symbol she had seen on television since childhood, the smile on the posters, the belief that had made countless children trust that heroes existed.
Now that belief had collapsed.
It had shattered into pieces that could never be put back together.
Annie sprang to her feet.
Her chair scraped back with a piercing screech. She knocked over the coffee cup at the edge of the table, spilling scalding liquid onto the carpet, where it quickly spread into a dark stain.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Annie only stared at Homelander's back, her eyes red and her voice thick with tears she couldn't suppress.
"Why didn't you save those people?"
Homelander stopped pacing.
Annie clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white with the force.
"You could have tried to carry the plane, or flown people out a few at a time. Even if you couldn't save everyone, you definitely could have saved those children!"
Dead silence fell over the room.
Even Chen Mo stopped chewing his gum.
Damn, this girl's got guts.
Curled up in the shadows of a corner, Maeve took a swig from a bottle of hard liquor and closed her eyes in pain.
She didn't stop Annie.
Nor did she offer an explanation for Homelander.
Because every word Annie asked was like a slap across her face.
Homelander slowly turned around.
At that moment, his expression grew calm instead.
Seeing him like that, Chen Mo's smile faded a little.
Homelander looked at Annie, his gaze cold and empty, devoid of emotion, and simply stared at her.
"Captain, the new girl doesn't know any better. No need to stoop to her level," Chen Mo said, lowering his legs from the table.
Homelander ignored him.
Annie remained where she stood, her eyes red-rimmed, but she didn't take a step back.
"Didn't you promise you'd protect everyone?"
The moment the words left her mouth, Homelander vanished from where he stood.
In the next second, he appeared in front of Annie. His right hand shot out and clamped around her throat, lifting her into the air with one hand.
Annie's feet left the floor, her face instantly turning purplish red. Her hands instinctively clawed at Homelander's wrist.
Homelander leaned close to her ear, a vicious smile appearing on his perfect face.
"Starlight."
His voice was soft, but cold as ice.
"I'm a god, and that bunch of trash on TV are just worthless expendables. Do you really think putting on that costume gives you the right to teach me how to be a hero?"
Annie opened her mouth, but only rasping gasps came from her throat.
Homelander's fingers slowly tightened.
Chen Mo watched Annie's eyes grow bloodshot from lack of oxygen and gently bit through the gum in his mouth.
All right.
Now things have really gotten out of hand.
Should I make a move? Right now, right here.