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Thor, the first prince of Asgard, the God of Thunder, was standing awkwardly beside his brother.
In one hand he carried Mjolnir, in the other a glowing blue container—the Tesseract.
"We're leaving," Thor said to everyone present.
"Thank you for your help; Asgard owes you a debt. I will deal with the Cube… and with him."
Loki, muzzled, could only let out furious "mmph!" sounds.
"Okay, bye-bye, Blondie," Tony waved. "Next time you bring Bambi, remember the Christmas present."
Steve nodded grimly: "He must pay for what he's done."
"He will," Thor said, face heavy.
He activated the Tesseract; blue light swallowed them.
At the brightest flare, just before teleportation, Loki's gaze swept past everyone and locked on Homelander's back.
In those eyes, besides hatred, there was… lingering fear.
Light flashed—Thor and Loki were gone.
If Loki was the "external problem," only the "internal problem" remained in the room.
Every eye—Stark, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Banner—fixed on the red-and-blue figure.
"Well, the show-stealer's gone," Stark said, arms folded. "Now, Stars-and-Stripes… can we chat?"
Vargas turned slowly.
"Of course, Mr. Stark," his voice warm and magnetic.
"I imagine you have questions."
"Oh, you bet," a deep voice answered from across the room.
Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., strode in, trademark black coat swirling.
His single eye locked on Vargas like a hawk.
"New York thanks you for the 'performance,' Mr. Homelander," Fury said without gratitude.
"I hate surprises."
"And you," Fury narrowed that eye, "were today's biggest surprise."
"Director," Vargas smiled, nodding.
"First meeting. I take it you're the boss here?"
"Name's Nick Fury. Follow me." No more words—just the invitation. "We'll talk elsewhere."
helicarrier, circular conference room.
Around the long table sat S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top brass and the Avengers' core.
Fury occupied the head; his lone eye looked razor-sharp under the lights.
Agent Maria Hill stood behind him.
Tony Stark lounged, legs crossed, face saying hurry-up-and-perform.
Steve Rogers sat straight, expression stern.
Natasha Romanoff, like a crouched Black Panther, sat in shadow, silent, watching.
Bruce Banner and Clint Barton were absent—rest and evaluation.
"Quite the show today, Mr. Homelander…" Fury's voice was ice.
"You were… perfect. So perfect it felt fake."
"Director Fury," Vargas kept smiling, "I only did what I should."
"Did you?" Fury sneered.
"Your 'should' covers a lot."
"Ease up, Nick," Tony cut in, annoyed.
"Spotlight-hog or not, he saved my life and the city. So—Homelander, who are you? Where'd you pop from? Who's your tailor? Nice fabric."
"I'm here to help, Mr. Stark," Homelander began his script.
"I come from far away…"
"Far away?" Fury interrupted.
"Smallville, Kansas—or Krypton?"
"Nick!" Steve warned, disliking the interrogation. "He saved everyone. We owe him respect."
"Respect is earned, Captain—not granted by a flashy suit." Fury's eye flicked to Steve, then back.
"I'm asking: are you alien? S.H.I.E.L.D. has no record of an Earth super like you. Who do you work for? Why are you here?"
The air seemed to solidify.
Black Widow stood nearby, hand never leaving her weapon.
Thor had returned to Asgard; to Vargas these people were mere chickens and dogs.
But the actor in him decided: the show must go on!
This was the debut performance of his transmigrated life.
"I…" He was about to spin the tale of "M78 Nebula."
"Director!"
Agent Hill hurried over, tablet in hand, face twisted in shock.
"Sir, you'd better see this."
Fury took the tablet impatiently—then his single eye snapped wide.
"What'd you see?" Tony leaned in and froze.
"Wow… this is… damn."
"Alright, I know who you are," Fury said, voice crushing.
——?!
Vargas's mind blanked for half a second.
What?
He knows?
Knows my ass—I'm a transmigrator!
"So explain, Mr. Homelander."
Nick Fury slapped the tablet down; it slid to Vargas.
Onscreen: a file.
Vargas's pupils shrank.
A photo ID.
Same blond hair, same handsome face, same sapphire eyes.
Only difference: the kid in the pic wore a Columbia tee and a shy smile.
Name: Anthony Starr
DOB: October 25, 1992
Status: Missing, presumed dead
Bio:
Columbia University, Literature, freshman.
Parents: Edward Starr, Martha Starr (founders of Starr Group, killed in a plane crash three years ago).
Incident: October 25, 2011—Anthony Starr vanished when a yacht sank off Long Island's Hamptons. Only his body was… never recovered.
Vargas's brain crashed.
Anthony Starr… Anthony Starr?!
That was the actor who played Homelander in The Boys back in his old World!
In his past life he'd even studied that guy's performances!
"Shit…" he cursed inwardly.
"Parallel World… this is the real deal! Not only Marvel exists—so do people identical to my old World!"
All this flashed in an instant.
His mind raced a thousand laps in one second.
"Scratch the Space Garrison script…"
[From here on, MC will be referred to as Anthony Starr or Anthony]