"Ready for your big day, Young Master Erasmus?" Oliver asked, his hands moving meticulously as he adjusted the gold-trim clasps on the boy's brand-new superhero suit. It was a flawless, miniature replica of his father's, right down to the eagle-crested pauldrons.
"I think so, Oliver," Erasmus replied, looking at his reflection in the grand mirror. "It's really good to finally see you again. How has the estate been since... well, since that day?"
"The estate is fine, Young Master," Oliver said softly, though his hands paused on the fabric. He met Erasmus's reflection in the glass, his eyes dark with a quiet, lingering grief. "And by 'that day,' I assume you mean the day the man who raised you was brutally murdered while you stood by and did nothing?"
"Did nothing?" he repeated, turning around to face Oliver directly. "What was I supposed to do? Dr. Vogelbaum raised me, and I will be forever grateful to him for that. But Homelander is my father, Oliver. There was absolutely nothing I could have done to change what happened."
Oliver stepped back, looking down at the young boy dressed exactly like the monster who committed the deed. His voice dropped to a heavy, desperate whisper. "There is something you can do now."
"What?"
Oliver stepped aside, revealing the massive glass window behind him that looked out over the sprawling landscape of the city below.
"You know the real reason Dr. Vogelbaum did what he did," Oliver said, his voice filled with deep conviction. "He did it to save you. He wanted to make sure you never became another degenerate monster like all those so called 'supes'. You are a kind, compassionate boy, Erasmus. You do not belong in this place."
Oliver leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto the teenager's. "The man who raised you knew exactly what Vought would do to your soul. That is why he hid you from the world all these years. If you walk out onto that stage today in that suit, you will turn everything he sacrificed to protect you into absolute dust."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Oliver," Erasmus said softly, looking back at his own reflection. "My father has already been through too much in his life. He is so lonely. If I leave him now...like everyone else... he will completely lose his mind."
Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp knock on the door cut him off.
"Come in," Erasmus called out.
The door clicked open, and Ashley entered quietly. A tight, nervous smile stretched across her face the moment her eyes landed on Erasmus in his suit. "Sir, your father is about to finish mourning Translucent on stage. It's time for your debut."
Erasmus offered her a polite nod. "Thank you, Ashley. Could I trouble you to wait outside for just a moment? I will be right out."
"Of course, sir," Ashley replied before stepping back into the hallway and closing the door behind her.
Erasmus and Oliver stared at each other silently. Finally, the old butler let out a long, weary sigh. He stepped forward and placed a gentle, grounding hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I must get going, Young Master," Oliver said softly. "It was highly irregular for the chief of staff to leave the estate today, especially with the new owners settling in. I brought your puppies, your favorite sheets, and the rest of your clothes. I've already handed them over to the tower staff, so everything should be delivered to your room shortly, sir. Goodbye."
Erasmus gave him a warm, appreciative smile. "Goodbye, Oliver. Take care of yourself, and please say hi to Marco and the rest of the staff for me."
"I will, sir," Oliver replied with a final, respectful bow before turning toward the door.
Deep inside the damp concrete underbelly of the smuggler hideout, four of the five most wanted fugitives in the country lived miserably. Frenchie, Hughie, Kimiko, Mother's Milk were forced to share their days in cramped quarters with a volatile mix of low-level drug dealers and black-market smugglers.
With Butcher officially missing or dead and their identities completely exposed by Mesmer, the group was backed into a corner. Hughie had just finished a call with Annie. Feeling completely drained, he wandered aimlessly through the cramped, filthy space before sinking onto a stained sofa that looked like it harbored every disease known and unknown to man.
He stared up at the small, dusty TV mounted on the wall. On the screen, Homelander was standing before a massive crowd, mourning Translucent. The broadcast claimed the invisible superhero had 'died today in a classified operation against terrorists when Vought forces encountered a terrorist Supe.'
"That's complete bullshit," Hughie muttered to himself. He was the one to press the detonator that blew Translucent into a million pieces. He raised the remote to turn the TV off, but his finger stopped over the power button.
"But today," Homelander's voice boomed through the small TV speaker, echoing off the damp concrete walls of the hideout. "We do not just mourn a fallen hero. We look to the future. A future where our children are safe from the violent radicals who seek to tear our society apart."
On the screen, the double doors at the back of the Vought stage opened. Out stepped a teenage boy, dressed in a flawless, miniature replica of Homelander's iconic suit, the gold-trim clasps catching the harsh glare of the stage lights. The boy walked forward with a polite, calm expression, completely unbothered by the roaring crowd of thousands.
"Who the hell is that?" Mother's Milk muttered, stepping into the small room from the hallway, his eyes locking onto the screen.
Frenchie paused mid-stride, dropping a piece of scrap metal onto the table as he turned to look. Even Kimiko stopped, her eyes narrowing at the glowing television.
"People of America," Homelander said, placing a heavy, incredibly proud hand on the teenager's shoulder as the boy reached the podium. "Behold the new dawn of. Stand with me, America, and meet my eldest son, your next global savior, Vanguard!""