(Logan POV)
The smoke of the burning farmhouse lingered in my mind long after it vanished behind the trees. We'd won, if you could call it that. Stormfront was gone, but it didn't feel like victory. The boy was still with us, shaking under Becca's arms. Homelander hadn't come to collect him. Not yet. But we all felt the shadow of his rage on the horizon.
We drove for hours into the mountains, through winding roads lined with black pines weighed down by fresh snow. The sun rose in slivers of gray light across the peaks. The cabin Grace promised waited for us at the end of a rutted trail, hidden by towering evergreens and the ghosts of storms past.
Inside, the old hunting lodge stank of mildew and ashes. MM swept every room, rifle steady. Kimiko slipped through each darkened hall like a ghost. Frenchie rigged doors with tripwires while Hughie helped Annie carry boxes of ammo. Maggie and I checked the perimeter together, silent but moving with the rhythm of old soldiers.
When we came inside, Butcher was already pacing the main room, boots thumping on warped floorboards. He turned to us with wild eyes. "They'll come. Homelander, Vought, the bloody cavalry. And we have the kid." He spat the last word like poison.
Grace stepped from the shadows, her hair pulled back, a phone in one hand. "They know you have him, Billy. But Homelander can't act directly right now. Vought's a mess. The world's watching them every second. They can't let him off the leash."
I leaned against the stone fireplace, letting my claws slide free for a moment. The metal glinted orange in the dying firelight. "But they will. Sooner or later."
Grace nodded, face grim. "Unless we finish this first."
We sat around the scarred kitchen table while Grace connected her phone to an old radio, broadcasting news reports that crackled and popped. Every station blared the same story: Compound V exposed. Stormfront outed as a Nazi. Heroes questioned. Protests rising across the country.
One voice on the radio asked, "Where is Homelander? Why hasn't he spoken?"
Annie looked at me, eyes dark. "They're turning on him. Not all, but enough to make him hesitate."
Hughie's voice shook as he read his phone. "People are flooding social media with videos of Supes hurting civilians. There are lawsuits, investigations…"
MM shook his head. "This won't stop them. Vought will spin it."
Grace flipped through photos, black-suited mercenaries gathering at Vought towers, politicians entering through back doors at night. "They're buying time. And every minute they stall, we lose the chance to take them down."
Butcher's laugh was humorless. "Then we give them something they can't spin."
The tension in the room grew thick enough to choke on. Becca kept Ryan close in an armchair near the fire, his eyes wide and blank. He hadn't spoken since we left the farmhouse. She whispered in his ear, but he stared straight ahead.
Butcher watched them like a caged animal. "He's the key. Homelander's weakness."
I stepped between them, voice low. "He's a child, not a weapon."
Butcher's eyes met mine. For a moment, I saw the man behind the rage, but it vanished as quickly as it came. "You know what it takes, Logan. You've lived it. You know what happens if we hesitate."
Maggie's voice cut through the room, cold and certain. "He's right about what's coming. But he's wrong if he thinks we'll sacrifice Ryan."
Frenchie placed a gentle hand on Kimiko's shoulder, eyes darting between us. "There must be another way."
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(Homelander POV)
Homelander floated miles above the city skyline, clouds swirling around him in the darkness. His eyes glowed red, lighting the fog with silent rage. News tickers scrolled across giant screens on distant towers, each headline another needle in his pride.
"Stormfront revealed as Nazi.
Homelander silent as Vought collapses.
Where is America's hero?"
He heard every word with perfect clarity. His face twisted. He wanted to fly north, tear the mountains apart, rip us to pieces. But Vought's voice in his ear, terrified, desperate, held him back. "You can't," the Stan Edgar commanded. "Not yet. The shareholders… the Senate hearings…"
He screamed into the clouds. Lightning flashed. But he stayed.
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(Logan POV)
Grace passed around photos of Vought's panicking board members, senators caught on hot mics swearing they'd never supported Compound V, and the first waves of federal agents raiding hidden labs.
"They're cornered," she said. "But desperate animals are the most dangerous."
Annie slammed her fist on the table. "Then we finish it. We bring Vought down before Homelander can move."
Hughie looked from Annie to Grace. "How? We don't even know where the board is hiding."
Grace tapped a photo of a private estate on a secluded lake. "They're meeting here tomorrow night. If we get there first, we can expose them all. Prove everything."
The team fell into silent determination. MM studied maps of the estate. Frenchie assembled charges. Kimiko checked and rechecked weapons. Annie and Hughie wrote a list of contacts they trusted in the press, people willing to run the truth no matter the danger.
Maggie stood near the window with me, watching the night deepen outside. Snow fell in lazy spirals, coating the world in a quiet that felt like a lie. "Do you think we can win?" she asked softly.
I thought of all the wars I'd fought, the cities I'd watched burn, the people I'd lost. "I think we can make them bleed," I said. "And sometimes, that's enough."
The team gathered one last time before we set out. Butcher passed a bottle of whiskey around the fire. MM spoke first. "This is bigger than any of us. But we've got each other."
Kimiko signed something, and Frenchie translated with a faint smile, "She says we're family now."
Hughie took Annie's hand. "We're in this together."
Becca sat by Ryan, humming a lullaby as he finally drifted into sleep. Butcher watched them, eyes softer than I'd ever seen.
Maggie squeezed my hand under the table. "We'll keep them safe," she whispered.
I looked around at the team, broken people, fierce and stubborn. And I knew Homelander would find a fight he'd never forget.
I stepped outside one last time before dawn. The snow had stopped, leaving the mountains still and white under a sky full of stars. In the distance, thunder rumbled, a storm gathering far away or maybe just Homelander's rage vibrating the night.
I lifted my head, claws sliding out with a quiet snikt. "Come if you want, John," I said to the dark sky. "We'll be ready."
And for the first time since the fighting began, I believed it.