> "Homelander! I'm your biggest fan! Can I take a picture with you?"
A bold young man had actually stepped forward, phone trembling in his hands as he made the request.
> "Maybe… next time."
Alex (Homelander) declined flatly.
With so many people around, if he agreed to one photo, he'd never escape the mob.
> "That's fine! I just want you to know—I've always believed in you!"
The fan didn't look disappointed in the slightest. His eyes burned with fanatic devotion.
Alex glanced at the man's face and instantly read three words there: hopeless superfan.
Having seen his fair share of those back in the Marvel world, Alex didn't even blink. He was used to it.
He waved casually to the crowd, keeping his arm linked with Catwoman's as the two walked confidently into the hotel.
Everywhere they passed, the sea of people parted for them like water for a god.
Even Bruce Wayne's entrances couldn't compete with this level of attention.
---
Soon enough, with the crowd buzzing around them, Alex and Selina reached the elevator.
The people following them had enough sense to step back a few paces, respectfully giving them space at the front.
Alex didn't argue. He simply took his place beside Selina, waiting calmly for the elevator to arrive.
---
> "Wow, Homelander's even better-looking in person."
"Yeah, he's surprisingly chill too."
"He doesn't look like an alien to me, actually…"
Behind him, several voices whispered excitedly, unable to contain their curiosity.
They spoke quietly—quietly enough that no normal person could've heard them.
But Alex wasn't normal.
Every word reached him perfectly clear.
He almost laughed.
In a world without mutants, this was what people thought of him?
> An alien? Really?
If they only knew how many aliens he'd killed with his own hands…
---
BOOM. BOOM.
Suddenly, his expression changed.
Two dull, muffled explosions reached his ears—so faint that no one else noticed, but unmistakable to him.
Then came the screams.
> "Ahhhh!"
"Help!"
"Somebody help us!"
The chaos spread instantly.
The next sound was a metallic screech—steel grinding against steel at incredible speed.
Something was very wrong.
---
Alex's head snapped up.
His eyes flared faintly red as his X-ray vision pierced through the floors above.
There—inside the elevator shaft—
an elevator car was plummeting.
The suspension cables had been blown apart!
Sparks rained down the shaft like fireworks as the heavy car scraped violently against the rails.
Inside were six passengers, all of them screaming in terror, seconds from death.
Alex's face darkened.
This wasn't an accident.
It was sabotage—
a deliberate attempt to kill.
And worse, it was a provocation aimed directly at him.
Whoever did this…
was already dead.
But that could wait.
For now, he had to save them.
---
> "Everyone—back up!"
His deep voice cut through the noise like a blade.
The crowd behind him froze, startled.
> "I said, move!"
The second command came sharper, louder.
This time they obeyed. Even the slowest among them could feel it—Homelander wasn't joking.
They backed away quickly, giving him plenty of room.
Even Selina, catching the seriousness in his tone, didn't ask questions. She nodded once and stepped aside.
---
Alex moved to the elevator doors, planted his hands between the narrow gap—
and ripped.
CLANG! CRASH!
The thick steel doors tore free from their hinges like cheap tin foil, flying backward across the hall.
For a long second, nobody breathed.
> "That… that's not real, right?"
"No way…"
"That's Homelander for you. Terrifying."
The jaws of everyone in the lobby practically hit the floor.
Those doors were reinforced steel—industrial grade.
And yet, in Homelander's hands, they'd come apart like paper.
The sheer shock of the act made people forget to even ask why he'd done it.
But the answer revealed itself soon enough.
From deep within the open shaft, the roar of falling machinery thundered louder and louder.
The elevator was still coming down—fast.
Now everyone understood.
The elevator was falling.
And Homelander was trying to catch it.
---
Could he really do it, though?
An elevator car that size, with passengers inside, plummeting from dozens of stories up…
Even for him—could he stop that much force without killing everyone inside?
Sweat beaded on the foreheads of those watching.
The air grew heavy, electric with tension.
---
RUMBLE. RUMBLE.
The noise was deafening now.
Then—
a blur.
A flash of red and blue.
The falling car burst into view, a streak of metal and sparks—
and in that same heartbeat, Alex's hands shot out.
THOOM!
The impact rattled the floor.
The car stopped.
Dead still.
Right in front of him.
---
A stunned silence swept the lobby.
Then came the soft, trembling sound of people swallowing hard.
> He actually caught it.
> He stopped it.
Impossible strength.
Unbelievable control.
The onlookers couldn't even comprehend what kind of power it took to arrest that much falling mass in an instant.
What they didn't see—
was that Alex had also wrapped the elevator car and its passengers in a cushion of telekinetic force at the same moment.
Otherwise, the sudden stop would have pulped them instantly.
---
He lowered the car gently to the floor, the metal screeching in protest.
Then, without hesitation, he reached in again—
and ripped the inner doors open.
Six terrified passengers stared out at him, pale and shaking but miraculously unharmed.
---
And for a brief, surreal moment—
the only sound in the hotel lobby was the faint hum of the elevator shaft and the stunned, collective heartbeat of Gotham's citizens…
as they realized they had just witnessed a god save six lives with his bare hands.
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