Hemostasis 4.2
Honestly, such a revelation was so simple, yet at the same time so shocking, that I didn't even know how to react at first. I had lived my entire second life with the feeling that something was wrong, yet the truth had always remained just one step away from me.
And because of that, my brain couldn't even process the consequences of everything I had learned. My mind was occupied with thinking about what an idiot I was for not figuring it out immediately.
If you think about it, it's elementary. Since childhood, I had seen that there was something strange and clearly of unnatural origin in the blood of supes. Something fundamentally distinguishing ordinary people from superhumans had always felt like some infinitely strange mixture, which was impossible to identify even for my power.
And if you remember that Vought made their fortune through the trade and development of advanced drugs, then everything becomes obvious.
"According to our information, Vought has some kind of formula capable of turning an ordinary person into a supe. As far as we understood from Vasily's words, the transformation process for an adult is excruciating and has a high mortality risk. Except we still don't know how supe children appear. Perhaps they are injected in infancy, since I don't remember anything like that, however, we have no proof of such a thing. I suspect we'll find out more about this at that Christian foundation. They supposedly handle private births and baptisms," I stated calmly, looking over my allies.
The reaction of everyone in the room to these words was interesting. Marvin frowned upon hearing this information, while Frenchie was clearly more interested in the very fact of how such a thing was physically possible. Mallory's face, on the other hand, didn't change at all, as if she already knew about it. Or at least guessed.
If Vought is indeed mass-producing new supes by experimenting on children, the government would definitely know about it. In the seventy years that supes have existed, some mother would have definitely tried to reveal the truth to gain at least a sliver of popularity.
Except it was unlikely to be beneficial for the government for such theories to spread without appropriate evidence. Vought is a very resilient parasite that would only take advantage of such a weakness and, with the help of its boundless media, protect itself from all subsequent exposures. However, now everything can change.
"And what are you going to do with this information?" the woman asked, crossing her arms over her chest, while her gaze was full of coldness.
Butcher tried to smile in his usual manner, but because of the cast, it looked rather comical. And his speech did not help him seem any more serious.
"The sh-ame thing we d-did before. We'll g-gather up and break into that s-sanctuary of holy rollers, after wh-ich we'll get that formula along with other evidence, which will be enough to lock up every single b-bastard from Vought."
I was about to say everything I thought about Butcher's latest "brilliant" plan, where the number of holes couldn't even be counted, but Grace beat me to it. Hearing the bearded man, she became even angrier and was clearly about to say everything she thought about us.
"Do you want to stage another massacre? Do you even know what you've done?"
She pulled a stack of papers from a folder and threw them onto the sofa with a sweeping motion. Frenchie jumped, barely dodging the hefty folder.
"Remember the supes you released from the asylum?" she waved her hand, pulling some photographs from the papers. "Our specialists and Vought's people managed to recapture almost all of them, however, a few of the most dangerous and powerful ones successfully escaped. And one of those psychos staged a real massacre in the department store closest to the hospital today, tearing eleven people to pieces. Our agents managed to stop him, but this evening all the news will be solely about this catastrophe."
I picked up one of the papers, beginning to read into the text. The downside of my power is that it worked on me without exception, which made me understand myself what feelings I was experiencing. My heart began to beat faster, while there was only emptiness in my head.
Six men, four women, and one seven-year-old child. An unknown supe tore them apart with his bare hands, turning the entire room into a bloodbath. Organs scattered all over the place, and in some places, you could even spot severed limbs.
"How did they even stop him?" I asked with an emotionless voice. Thoughts refused to form in my head, and it felt as if I was simply unable to think about anything else. The photographs of the dead froze in my mind.
"Even the toughest psycho won't survive a sniper shot to the eye. But that doesn't matter right now," Mallory closed her eyes and began rubbing her forehead with her palm. A second later, she started speaking again, but fatigue could now be heard in her voice, not anger. "What's much more important is that you screwed up completely. And you, Butcher, playing the avenger too much, forgetting everything you were taught in the army. And you, our 'hero', deciding to save the poor little psychos. I hope you remembered that if there is no order to do something, you shouldn't even twitch?"
We looked at each other in silence, not knowing what to answer. At such moments, thoughts refused to work, but I tried to somehow rationalize my actions and figure everything out. However, our boss just kept talking:
"It's good that you got Vought's dirt and reached their truly important secrets, however, I won't be able to cover for you constantly," Mallory continued. "Right now the corporate bastards are on edge as much as possible and, according to my sources in The Seven's tower, measures are even being discussed right now about using the team to search for the 'supervillains' responsible for what happened. Fortunately for you and me, there really is no evidence left in the ashes, however, we cannot know for sure. Therefore, we will lay low for a while until everything settles down."
Everyone in the room agreed with the woman's words. Frenchie didn't know what to do with himself and shifted his gaze from side to side, while Marvin began to breathe deeply, leaning against the nearest table. I, meanwhile, continued looking at the papers, clenching my fist until it turned white. And most of all, I looked at the torn little body, which clearly did not belong to an adult.
Among all of us, only one very expressive man stood out. However, she didn't even give him time to get a word in and waved her hand right in front of his face.
"Butcher, we will talk to you separately. When everyone leaves this room, you will stay and talk to me and a couple of other professionals. I respect your leadership skills and ability to improvise, however, it seems we underestimated the level of your trauma. I cut you some slack the first time, however, now it's time to seriously test how fit you are for fieldwork," the woman answered sternly, shutting up the frowning Butcher.
He didn't even try to object, merely glaring at her. Exhaling deeply, Grace turned and headed towards the exit. Only at the very door did she look back, looking at us again.
"And now all of you get out of here. And live with what you've done, 'heroes'."
. . .
Returning home, I stopped right at the door, sensing that Paul and Indira were already inside, but something else bothered me. It seems that another important piece of news awaits me.
It's true what they say, there are decades where nothing happens, and weeks where decades happen. The last ten days have been filled with a greater number of events than the last few years since my enrollment in the university and the start of my official work for Vought.
Not lingering any longer, I went inside. But before I could go upstairs, the smiling Indira and Paul stopped me. They were standing right by the stairs, as if waiting for me. Rather, I was practically certain of it. Now their sudden absence made much more sense.
"Mark, we wanted to tell you something very important..." Indira began.
"Tell us, how do you feel about getting a little brother? Or a sister?" finished the joyful, albeit slightly nervous Paul.
Sighing, I smiled slightly. Perhaps things aren't so bad after all.
. . .
"...It is for this exact reason that we must tighten control over superhumans. I believe it's time to ask the questions that have visited everyone's mind, yet we were all afraid to voice them aloud. Until when will the so-called 'superheroes' do whatever they please? Since when does the ability to bend steel with bare hands grant special rights? What if tomorrow such a 'superhuman', as they call themselves, indulging his ego, decides to walk into a school and stage another tragedy? What if he walks into a hospital or a kindergarten? On the day of a tragedy, we must unite as a nation to make tough but necessary decisions. We cannot allow a repetition of what happened at any cost. And therefore I believe that now, more than ever before, we need a law on the oversight of individuals with special abilities..."
Delivering her speech, Neuman looked practically infuriated, while maintaining the strict, cold atmosphere of a politician. Her words seemed truly sincere, although I understood that she had hardly written a single letter of it. But judging by the deafening applause that rang out as soon as she finished speaking, people listened to her.
In general, the event that occurred became a huge political leap for her, one of the few politicians who had been talking about the need for such control for years. Clicking a button on the remote, I simply changed the channel.
"...Vought, and I personally, offer our sincere condolences to the families of those who died as a result of this monstrous incident. Such tragedies should not happen, and we certainly cannot allow them to repeat. And therefore, as hard as it is for me to say this, I believe that we need to establish control over the activities of supes. Vought agrees to cooperate with the government in this endeavor and is ready to make every effort so that such catastrophes never happen again..."
Stan Edgar, in contrast to his daughter, did not look angry, but maximally saddened. Honestly, I don't remember ever seeing him otherwise. He always performs in one of two states: joyful and active, and maximally emotionless.
I've seen the second one much more often in recent years, as he no longer worked as a showman, like he did during his youth. However, if necessary, he still knew how to radiate incredible charisma.
Except his speech still felt much less alive than Neuman's. Another click.
"...Vought shares are falling amid the horrifying events and the upcoming superhero regulation act, while the board of directors is in a panic. According to our analysts' information, it is most likely that the company will now rally around Stan Edgar, who for several years in a row has been promoting the project of increasing control over superhumans, despite opposition from the rest of the high-ranking officials on the board of directors. Our sources also report possible layoffs among company representatives who previously advocated for the increased use of supes in everyday life. Watch an address by Homelander and Madelyn Stillwell in an hour, as well as members of The Seven, who will be discussing what happened..."
The regular news wasn't pleasing either. Practically all channels were broadcasting only news about the tragedy that occurred. And while most channels were simply beating a dead horse, discussing the first case of a massacre perpetrated by a supe in decades, one economic channel delved into the details of the incident's impact on the company's shares.
And even though the forecasts weren't the best so far, I'm sure they will return to their past peak after the release of a new movie about The Seven or something similar.
"Turn it off, I see it only makes you feel worse. You need to calm down and switch gears to recover." Paul always had a calm voice, and only in rare moments like this could you hear notes of worry. However, I felt that right now he was worrying about me much more than he showed. Not arguing, I pressed the button and shook my head, leaning back on the sofa.
"Vought only benefited from what happened. Maybe not the supes specifically, but the elite who make the real decisions. They see that people are dying, however, they simply don't care," I answered, crossing my arms.
I was also trying to look as calm as possible, but controlling myself in the current situation was not easy. It's stupid to tell them about what happened, however, I decided to conduct a little experiment—to share my thoughts about the tragedy and the whole situation. I'm just curious to know how they, and Indira specifically, will react to what happened.
"Rather harsh words about the company. Although I will agree that such a law should have been passed decades ago, right now I'm worrying more about how it will affect you," Indira said, bringing us all tea. She took cookies for herself and Paul, but I drank it plain. After Red River, it's the only way I do it.
My little experience showed curious results. Paul worried about me, my career, and overall well-being, while Indira was rather simply trying to figure out the situation. Notably, she didn't press the idea that the corporation is white and fluffy, and all supes are messengers from God.
"Honestly, I don't care if Vought completely abandons supes and switches to selling only pills with thermometers. The main thing is that the project on regulating supe activities is in Congress and truly serious people are discussing it. And considering what a fuss has been raised now, no one will try to interfere with its passage. Besides, Vought themselves are not resisting and are distancing themselves as much as possible from what happened, taking the side of the state," I answered calmly.
"Aren't you sorry to lose your freedom? Control will affect you too, you know," Paul asked. I simply shrugged my shoulders.
"I already obey the laws, I don't see what will change," I shrug my shoulders. "And even if I get fired, I'll just fully dedicate myself to studies and helping those in need. I'm more interested in how such a law wasn't passed some forty years ago, when Soldier Boy and others participated in real wars. I suspect that Vought spent fortunes to lobby the laws they needed, however, now they will finally be pinned down. Except the corporate reaction doesn't look like that when a company is on the brink. Rather like the massacre simply helped their internal intrigues. Some will be fired, some will just be demoted, however, fundamentally nothing has changed."
"Even though Vought are not saints, it's just a corporation, in the end. They cover their interests and do everything to get maximum profit. I'm much more interested in the fugitive supervillain who appeared seemingly out of thin air. Nothing like this has ever happened before, if I'm not mistaken," Paul replied.
"Indeed..." I said thoughtfully.
Unexpectedly, a message came to my phone. Glancing at it, I sharply gathered myself, stopping talking right in the middle of a sentence. I literally jumped up, already figuring out in my head what to do. However, first I had to explain myself to my family.
"Vought is urgently calling all heroes. Another supervillain has staged a massacre in New York and the help of everyone nearby is needed. I'm sorry, but..." I said quickly, already figuring out arguments in my head.
"Go."
I looked in surprise at Indira, who looked as calm and collected as possible. Noticing me, she simply shrugged her shoulders, spreading her arms slightly.
"What? We can't stop you anyway, but you can help people like no one else. People need a healer now more than ever."
I only smiled slightly, after which I went upstairs at incredible speed, where my suit was stored. Well then, it's time to show myself in action and fix my mistake. Or at least prevent even greater casualties.
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