I really need to kill someone.
As he flew back to New York alongside his father, his mind fixated on his next target down in Florida. He had no way of reaching the man without completely blowing his cover and raising immediate suspicion.
Homelander had only just discovered his long-lost son; there was absolutely no way the man was going to leave his side for more than a single minute.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Erasmus started. His voice broke through Homelander's spiraling thoughts. Who was still fuming over Becca, who had threatened to end her own life if they tried to take Ryan away from her. She had forced him to look weak again in front of his son. He felt like crushing her, but he knew he couldn't do that to his youngest son just yet.
"About what, buddy?" Homelander asked.
"About what I did to Ryan. I think I scared him."
Homelander went silent for a moment, thinking it over. "I think that was great. Years under that woman have made him soft and weak. Now that he knows she lied to him his entire life, he will come back to us soon. We just need to give him time."
On the other side of the city, inside Vought headquarters, Stan Edgar sat in a boardroom meeting. Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the mahogany table. Looking down at the text, Edgar raised a single hand, instantly silencing the head of Vought Entertainment mid-sentence. With a subtle nod, he signaled for all the department heads to clear the room.
He had just been informed that Homelander had visited the artificial compound where they kept Ryan. It wasn't the end of the world; they knew that sooner or later, he would find out, though they would have preferred it to be later.
What truly interested him, however, were the tactical reports and high-resolution footage of the teenager standing right next to him. The boy whom Homelander was claiming to be his firstborn son.
"Where did this son come from?" Edgar muttered to the empty room, his eyes narrowing at the screen. "Where has he been all these years? And how, exactly, did Vought have no record of his existence?"
Looking at the boy's face and build, it was undeniable; he truly was Homelander's son. But what Edgar actually cared about was the teenager's mind. Was he mentally stable? Or did Vought now have to manage a second Homelander, one completely without brakes?
He got up from his seat and walked down the long, quiet hallway toward his private elevator. He needed answers before Homelander landed at Vought Tower. He dialed a secure line, his voice cutting through the ringing instantly.
"Ashley. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day," Edgar ordered smoothly.
"Mr. Edgar? Oh my god, yes, of course! But, have you seen the satellite feeds? Homelander is flying back right now, and he has a teenager with him! A teenager who looks exactly like him! What do we do?!"
"Ashley," Edgar interrupted. "Bring the boy straight to my office the moment they arrive. Tell Homelander we need to discuss his branding immediately. He will like that."
He hung up without waiting for her reply. He stepped inside his office and looked out the massive glass window overlooking New York City.
Since that day, things had spiraled completely out of control. Vogelbaum... what on earth have you done.
Erasmus landed on the balcony right alongside his father. Stepping through the glass doors, he looked around the incredibly colorful room. The space was packed with an overwhelming amount of statues, golden portraits of his father, and American flags lining the walls.
"What do you think?" Homelander asked, genuinely excited to show his son around his private quarters.
"Well..." Erasmus hesitated, looking around. "It's very colorful. Where will I sleep?"
"It will take some time to set you up with a fitting room," Homelander replied warmly, clapping him on the shoulder. "So you can sleep with your old man for the first few days while we get everything sorted out."
"What?"