Vought International's response came from a studio in Midtown Manhattan, not a press room. The difference was intentional. Press rooms were for facts. Studios were for shows. And Vought was very good at shows.
The stage was bathed in soft blue light. A curved screen dominated the back wall, the Vought logo rotating slowly in golden relief. Three American flags hung at calculated angles. The podium was glass.
Madelyn Stillwell walked to the microphone. She wore white. Her hair was pulled back in a smooth blonde wave. Her smile was warm but serious, the expression of a mother about to explain something difficult to children.
"Thank you for coming," she said. "And thank you to everyone watching at home. What you saw earlier today from the Justice League was disturbing. It was false. And it was an attack."
She let the word hang.
"An attack not just on Vought International, but on the idea that heroes can come from anywhere. That they don't need to be gods. That they can be human."
Her expression softened. Became regretful.
"The League showed you a video. They told you it was proof of murder. What they didn't tell you is that the video was edited. Heavily edited. To remove context. To remove truth. Tonight, we're going to show you what actually happened."
She stepped aside. The screen behind her lit up.
---
The footage was grainier than the League's version. A different angle. A security camera from a bodega across the street. The timestamp was the same. The street was the same. The couple was the same.
But the camera had captured something the League's video hadn't. Three blocks earlier. The same young woman, Robin, entering a convenience store. The timestamp matched. The clothing matched. In the footage, she was arguing with a clerk. The argument escalated. Her hand came up. There was something in it. A blade. The clerk stumbled backward clutching his face. The woman ran out. The boy followed.
The footage cut back to the familiar street. The couple now looked different. Not laughing. Not casual. Looking over their shoulders. Furtive. Fleeing.
Madelyn's voice narrated over the slowed-down frames. "Robin and her boyfriend had just stabbed a store clerk. The clerk is alive, but permanently disfigured. Police records confirm this. We've provided those records to every major news outlet."
The footage continued. The impact. The spray. But this time, the narration reframed it. A-Train arriving. Intervening. Stopping two violent criminals before they could escape.
"Was the outcome tragic? Yes. Every loss of life is tragic. But A-Train was acting on intelligence that two armed suspects were fleeing a violent crime. He moved to stop them. He made a split-second decision that no human could make. And yes, it went wrong."
The footage froze on A-Train's face. Panicked. But now the panic was reframed. Not guilt. Horrified at the accident.
"He couldn't stop. He said so himself. The cameras recorded it. A man who tried to save lives and is now being called a murderer by a group of beings who watch from space."
---
A-Train stepped out from the wings. His blue and white costume was pristine. His face was somber. He approached a second microphone set at the edge of the stage.
"I'm not here to make excuses," he said. His voice was lower than the public had ever heard it. "I'm fast. That's my gift. But speed has consequences. When you're moving at Mach one, every mistake is magnified. I thought I was stopping a killer. I was wrong about the level of force required. And a woman is dead because of my error."
He paused. Swallowed. Looked directly into the camera.
"I'm sorry. I've met with the clerk's family. I've paid for his medical bills. I'm going to do better. Train harder. Be smarter. But I am not a murderer. And I will not let the Justice League destroy my name because they can't accept that heroes exist outside their control."
He stepped back. A single tear tracked down his cheek.
---
Madelyn returned to the podium.
"The Justice League has done remarkable things. They stopped an alien invasion. We honor that. But they are not gods. They are not above the law. And they are not above jealousy."
Her tone shifted. Sharper now.
"They see Vought. They see the Seven. Heroes who walk among the people. Who shop at the same grocery stores. Who show up at the same schools. Real heroes. Human heroes. And they see a threat. Not to public safety. To their monopoly."
She gestured to the screen. A new image appeared. Side-by-side photos. Superman hovering above a city. Homelander shaking hands with firefighters at a school.
"Superman watches from space. Homelander shows up. Superman gives press conferences. Homelander gives hope. The League wants you to fear us. Because if you trust us, they lose power."
She leaned forward.
"The Justice League has no authority. They answer to no government. They have a secret leader they call 'Shadow.' A figure no one has ever seen. No one elected. And today, they demanded the imprisonment of an American hero based on edited footage and anonymous sources. That is not justice. That is tyranny."
She straightened.
"Vought International will not be intimidated. The Seven will continue to protect this nation. And A-Train will continue to be the hero he has always been. Thank you."
---
The Watchtower observation deck was silent.
Barry's hands were motionless on the console. Hal had stopped breathing through his nose. Oliver stood with his arms crossed so tight the leather of his jacket creaked.
Clark watched the screen without blinking. The Vought logo was still rotating.
"They fabricated the police report," J'onn said quietly. "The clerk's statement is falsified. The bodega footage is doctored. I can see the splice points."
"Can we prove it?" Diana asked.
"Not quickly. Not publicly. The edits are professional. The metadata has been scrubbed. It would take days to deconstruct. By then, the narrative will have moved on."
Clark said nothing.
Oliver spoke. "They didn't just deny it. They turned it into a recruitment ad. 'Human heroes.' 'We walk among you.' They're selling themselves as the alternative to us."
"That's exactly what they're doing," Hal said.
Barry pulled up the live reaction feeds. The shift was immediate and brutal.
"I knew it. The League is just jealous."
"Homelander actually shows up. When's the last time Superman helped anyone?"
"A-Train made a mistake trying to stop a killer. League wants to execute him for it."
"Who even is Shadow? Why is the League hiding their real leader?"
The numbers rolled. Vought's approval rating up twelve points. The League's down eighteen. A-Train's name was trending. Not as a criminal. As a victim.
"The public has flipped," Barry said. "Forty-eight hours ago, no one knew who A-Train was. Now he's a martyr."
"He's not a martyr," Diana said. "He's a killer."
"Doesn't matter. They're buying what Vought is selling."
---
Outside Vought Tower in Manhattan, a crowd had gathered. Thousands of people. They held signs. HOMELANDER IS THE REAL HERO. SUPERMAN GO HOME. The evening news captured them chanting A-Train's name. A woman with a child on her shoulders wept openly.
Then the crowd erupted.
Homelander landed in their midst.
He wore his full regalia. The cape. The red boots. The smile. The star-spangled suit catching the last light of the setting sun. He didn't hover. He landed. Walked among them. Shook hands. Picked up a child and posed for a photo.
The crowd surged toward him like water toward a drain.
"I love each and every one of you," he said, and his voice carried without a microphone. "The Justice League thinks they own the word 'hero.' But you know where heroes come from. They come from here. From the people. From the heart. Not from a watchtower in space."
He held a young girl in one arm. She was maybe seven. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled at the cameras.
"Superman wants to put me in jail," Homelander said. "But I'm not going anywhere. Because you are my family. And I will never abandon my family."
The crowd roared.
---
Barry killed the feed. "He's holding a kid. He's literally holding a child while threatening us."
"It's not a threat," Clark said. "It's a campaign rally."
"He's building an army," Diana said quietly. "Not with weapons. With love. He's making the world love him so much that we become the villains by default."
"Can we fight that?" Hal asked.
No one answered.
Clark's phone buzzed. He looked at the screen. Bruce.
"Everyone out. I need to take this."
The room emptied. Diana lingered a moment, then left.
Clark answered. "You saw."
"I saw." Bruce's voice was flat. Controlled. But Clark had known him long enough to hear the anger underneath. "They didn't just counter you. They framed you as the enemy. And you handed them the ammunition."
"I gave them the truth."
"You gave them a target. Now they're selling themselves as the alternative to the Justice League. And the world is buying."
"What do you want me to do?"
"For the rest of this conversation, listen. Don't decide. Don't explain. Listen. Put Diana, Oliver and john on line. I need to talk to someone who will act."
Clark didn't argue. He set the phone on the console and pressed the intercom.
"Diana, Oliver and john It's Bruce."
She was in the room before the echo died. She picked up the communicator.
"Bruce."
"All of you, listen to me. Vought International is a menace that has to be eliminated. They will kill more humans. They will not care. They are on par with the level of demons. Clark is too soft-hearted to do what needs to be done. You all can do it right? I am also coming "
Diana held the communicator in both hands. She looked at Clark. Clark looked back at her. Neither spoke.
Then she nodded.
"Bruce. I am ready."
"Good. Because while Clark was giving press conferences, I was tracking their operations. They have facilities. Laboratories. Places where they keep children and cut them open to see what makes them fly. If we wait for the law, those children die. If we wait for public opinion, Homelander gets stronger. There is no good time to act. There's only now."
"I understand."
The line went dead.
Diana and others set the communicator down.
"He's right," she said quietly. "I don't like it. But he's right."
" Clark, we have to do something, justice league can't be used for politics of something this sinister organisation "
Clark stood beside her. " Are you becoming murdrer, you also know if you kill someone, you can't take the killing, it will haunt you for Life.we are not law, we can't kill someone"
"I know." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's why he asked me."
"You're not his weapon, Diana."
Green lantern John said " clark, I know you have humanity in you, but I am soldier, in war , we have to kill to protect our nation, but this time it's for all humanity, the women killed could be someone close to you, what will you do then, Bruce said truth, you are too soft"
Oliver nodded and teleportation was activated and three of them reach bruce mansion.