"Mmm…"
Homelander stood in the hallway with his hands behind his back, glaring at his own portrait on the wall while he simmered in silent rage.
This person, that person—every single one of them telling him not to act rashly. None of them trusted him. And Stillwell…
In Stillwell's eyes, there was only her child. To her, he was just a money-making tool—nothing more.
Homelander's gaze pierced straight through the portrait and the wall beyond it, locking onto Stillwell as she calmly nursed her baby. His throat felt dry, and a blaze of anger kept burning hotter and hotter in his chest.
"Good afternoon, Homelander."
Right as Homelander watched Stillwell through the wall and felt that bottomless fury swell inside him, a light, casual voice drifted into his ear.
"Inhale…"
"Exhale…"
Homelander knew that voice. He hated the owner of that voice. And honestly, at least half of why he was this pissed off right now was because of him.
"I'm warning you—don't provoke me!"
After forcing his breathing steady, Homelander turned around and roared at the white-suited bastard walking toward him.
"Wooow~"
"You're mad?"
Jovian—wearing that white skintight suit with the huge F stamped on his chest—looked at the raging Homelander and flashed a radiant smile that could piss anyone off.
"That F…"
Homelander clenched his fists. His eyes brightened, a dangerous glow pulsing as the orders from Vought's upper ranks and his own emotions wrestled inside his head.
"Are you mad at me?"
Jovian stepped up beside Homelander and asked with a smile.
"What do you think?!"
Homelander's breathing turned sharp and heavy, nostrils flaring as he dragged in air like he was seconds away from losing control.
"No. You're not mad at me."
Jovian shook his head gently, then clasped his hands behind his back and walked to Homelander's portrait in the hallway.
"Then what do you think I'm mad about right now?!"
Homelander stared at Jovian like he had everything planned out, then lifted a finger and jabbed it toward Jovian's face as he growled low.
"…"
Jovian's brows tightened as he looked at that outstretched finger.
He remembered that finger now.
If Homelander weren't still useful, he would've snapped it already.
"Hah…"
The shadow on Jovian's face vanished as quickly as it came. Without changing his tone, he casually brushed Homelander's finger aside and pointed at the portrait.
"The thing that makes you angry was never me. It's the woman in that room—and those assholes on the 82nd floor who make a fortune off us just by running their mouths."
Jovian sounded genuinely indignant, quietly implying that Homelander wasn't the only one furious at Stillwell and the suits upstairs.
"Our 'image'—our relationships—none of that was ever decided by us. They decided it for us…"
"You saw my outfit. I wanted to get closer to you—but they wouldn't allow it…"
Jovian made it sound like him being positioned against Homelander had nothing to do with his own will. It was all the company's decision.
"I saw it."
Homelander glanced at Jovian's suit and cape and nodded. They looked similar. In his eyes, Jovian's costume was obviously modeled after his.
"Fuck. A bunch of ungrateful bastards—do they even know who lets them swim in piles of cash?! It's you, Homelander!"
Jovian lowered his voice. That last line—he lifted it straight from Homelander's usual rhetoric, forcing a sense of closeness between them.
"…"
Homelander's mouth parted slightly. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
Because Jovian was right.
Compared to Jovian, what made him angrier was the fact he'd done so much for that disgusting company—yet those idiots didn't have even a shred of gratitude.
"You…"
Homelander looked at Jovian, mouth opening and closing once.
The anger on his face had already faded away completely.
"You get me. You understand me. You really are my fan."
Homelander sized Jovian up from head to toe. Jovian suddenly looked a lot more pleasing to the eye.
"I'm your…"
Jovian heard that and sneered inside.
Homelander was just a brat with power. That was all.
"I understand you even better than you think."
"Listen, Homelander—we shouldn't be Vought's mascots. Supes should be something more iconic than that!"
"And you—being the strongest of all supes—you should stand up and become the leader of every superhuman on this planet!"
Jovian declared Homelander the strongest outright, placing himself beneath Homelander without hesitation.
"You're right. I'm the strongest."
Homelander nodded slightly. He didn't think there was anything wrong with that at all. He was the strongest. He was born to lead.
"You should be leading all those who have power beyond ordinary people, pushing forward—rather than…"
Jovian's expression turned troubled, like what he was about to say was going to be ugly.
"Rather than what?!"
Homelander's brow furrowed.
"Rather than… you know what, Homelander? Behind your back, they call you Stillwell's little golden retriever."
Jovian said it with exaggerated emphasis, like he couldn't believe it himself.
"…"
Homelander's face went iron-dark. Jovian's words clearly hit a nerve.
"I know that was out of line."
Jovian spoke softly, watching Homelander's anger spike.
"No. It's because I look too weak."
Homelander shook his head. He stared through the wall again at Stillwell soothing her baby, and the fury inside him burned even harder.
He was too soft.
That was why Stillwell didn't take him seriously.
That was why those assholes on the 82nd floor didn't take him seriously.
"Fuck. You've saved enough people already. Now if someone pisses you off, you just—"
Jovian sounded worked up, like he was furious on Homelander's behalf.
"I've said too much today. I can't waste too much time here, or those people will come looking for trouble again. But I really can't stand seeing my idol treated like this—like he's nothing."
Jovian looked at Homelander with a helpless expression, as if even having this conversation inside the company was a luxury.
"You want to do something—then do it. No one in this world can stop you, right?"
In the end, Jovian lightly patted Homelander on the shoulder and walked down the hallway.
"Fuck… he said it perfectly."
Homelander watched Jovian leave and realized he wasn't the only one who thought like this.
Maybe there were more people who would agree with him.
He was the one who should be leading everything.
"…"
Jovian gave Homelander one last deep look.
Next came the media—steady leaks, nonstop dirt, constant pressure. Push Homelander until he leaned into the most extreme thoughts.
All Jovian had to do was keep nudging him with words from the shadows.
Sooner or later, Homelander would become exactly what Jovian wanted him to be.
"About time."
Jovian checked his watch. The timing was almost perfect.
After getting everything ready, Jovian entered The Seven's main hall ahead of schedule.
"Haha…"
Right after Jovian sat down inside the hall, the doors suddenly opened.
A man and a woman walked in together, laughing and chatting.
"This is The Seven's hall. Welcome, Starlight!"
The door swung wide. A guy who practically radiated washed-up, dead-fish energy walked in, leading a blonde sweetheart dressed like a high-school cheerleader.
"Whoa—so this is The Seven's hall?!"
"The place I've been dreaming about…"
The blonde sweetheart looked around the room and smiled brightly.
"Of course, we here—uh…"
The washed-up guy followed along with her excitement, then suddenly saw the figure inside the room—standing up with a dazzling smile.
In an instant, his entire body went rigid.
"Welcome to The Seven's hall. Welcome to The Seven, Starlight."
Jovian stood up and walked over to the blonde sweetheart—and the dead-fish guy beside her.
"…"
The Deep stared at Jovian, a cold sweat creeping up his spine.
He instantly regretted bringing Starlight here.
The moment the press event ended, he should've just grabbed some random staffer to escort her instead.
"The Deep, if I remember right, you've still got a mission, don't you?"
Jovian looked at The Deep and asked.
"Oh! Yeah! You're right—I've got a mission…"
The Deep nodded like his life depended on it, then bolted out of The Seven's hall without even looking back.