"Get prepared for our first day together, champ," Homelander said. He pulled on his sleeping clothes and climbed into bed.
"Dad, please," Erasmus whispered, standing far away from the bed. "Don't make it harder than it already is."
"Oh, come on! It's gonna be fun," Homelander said, lifting the sheet. "We will catch up for all of these years. I want to know you. I want to know my own son. Come on, come snuggle with your old man. Don't be shy, scootch in."
Erasmus sighed and slowly got onto the edge of the other end, far away. But that didn't stop his dad. Homelander hugged him and pulled him close with a wide smile.
"DAD!."
"Ok, ok, I was just kidding I just... I can't believe this. It's everything I dreamed of. Vogelbaum kept you away from me all those years. Why did you believe him? Why didn't you come to me?"
Erasmus went quiet, staring up at the ceiling, then said quietly, "Because I hurt people, Dad," Erasmus whispered. He didn't look at his father. He just kept his eyes fixed on the wall. "That's just what I do. Everything I touch gets crushed."
Homelander stared at his son, his eyes wide, a sudden and crushing wave of emotion completely overriding his spiraling thoughts. He looked at the golden hair, the blue eyes, and for the first time in his life, he felt a visceral, deep understanding. This boy wasn't a stranger.
This boy was his exact reflection. He knew exactly what it felt like to break toys by accident. He knew what it felt like to be treated like a weapon.
"You're a god among insects, Erasmus," Homelander whispered. "Vogelbaum, the executives, the regular people out there on the street... they are fragile. Glass. Of course you crush them. That's not a flaw, champ. That's your birthright. Oh, my beautiful boy. We are going to have to teach you how to clean up your messes. But don't you ever, ever apologize for being my son, got it?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Tell you what, tomorrow I was going to Syria to crush some supe terrorists. Me and Black Noir. How about you tag along? See how strong you are. Don't worry, you can go wild."
"I thought I wasn't supposed to do anything until I signed my contract tomorrow."
"Oh, this will be a lot better. Your debut will be killing supe terrorists."
Stan Edgar sat in his office with files neatly stacked on his desk. The folders contained profiles of elite Godolkin University students.
When Erasmus debuts, he must be separated from his father. Not entirely, of course, that would make Homelander completely insane. It must be done by the boy's own free will. Edgar needed Erasmus to make that choice himself, hopefully driving a permanent wedge between the recently reunited father and son.
Once the debut was finalized, the true observation would begin.
The initial reports by the staff of the late Dr. Vogelbaum were very promising. The boy, in their exact words, was gentle, kind, and heavily restrained around them. He had been raised primarily by the estate butler, who acted like a second father to him. But Stan Edgar highly suspected these reports might be biased. He needed to see the boy's true nature for himself.
Now This is where it gets really interesting. Erasmus was raised by Vogelbaum in near-total isolation. He is composed, intelligent, and self-contained, but he has essentially no experience with peer relationships, institutional social dynamics, or the particular performance that public superhero life demands.
A Godolkin candidate would have spent years navigating exactly that world. They'd be socially fluent in ways Erasmus simply isn't yet.
A peer from Godolkin would be the first real equal relationship Erasmus has ever had. Which means he needs to think very carefully about who that person is. Whoever gets close to Erasmus first is going to have a disproportionate amount of influence over him.
Someone who is genuinely good company, because a manufactured friendship Erasmus sees through is worse than no friendship at all. But their fundamental interests must align completely with Vought's institutional goals.
But that is the ideal scenario. The reality as it stands is much more volatile. No matter how much people swear the boy is gentle or kind, the facts are clear: Erasmus is a teenager who was raised in near isolation and was rarely allowed to use his powers. Now, he is suddenly going to be using them freely, and he is being raised by Homelander, no less.
Even worse, the boy wasn't conditioned at all. Unlike Homelander, whose desperate need for love makes him easy to manipulate, Vought never had the chance to instill a similar weakness in Erasmus.