"You?"
The Butcher immediately recognized Russell—the mysterious man who had just effortlessly taken down the entire special ops team.
If this guy hadn't dragged him off to find Mallory, he might still be in the dark about the real circumstances behind Soldier Boy's supposed "death."
"Infinite!" Hughie exclaimed in shock.
Videos of Infinite saving a plane and preventing a second 9/11 had gone viral across the internet. At this point, almost everyone on Earth recognized this blazing new superstar among superheroes.
Hughie had seen those clips and interviews and still couldn't quite believe that Infinite was the same anonymous superhuman they had run into at that abandoned diner.
MM and Frenchie both let out a sigh of relief. Whatever the case, they were safe—for now.
"What are you doing here? Also looking for the weapon to kill Soldier Boy?" "Planning to use it to take down Homelander, eliminate the competition inside your own company?"
Butcher's eyes gleamed with interest as he licked his lips.
Rumors of tension between Homelander and Infinite Man had been spreading like wildfire ever since the hijacking incident.
He hated all supes, but if he could play one tiger against another wolf, he wouldn't mind working with a supe.
Still... a moment of doubt flashed across Butcher's mind. Why did Infinite arrive so late? As a superhuman, shouldn't he have gotten here first?
He didn't know Russell had already scoped out the place earlier.
"Yeah, I'm here for the 'weapon,'" Russell replied, casually glancing at the sealed lab door deeper inside.
The base clearly already knew someone had broken in. Russell smiled faintly as he looked back at Butcher and Hughie.
If Edgar hadn't tracked their overseas records, he might've arrived too late—and missed out on these two potential temp-supes.
What does he need the weapon for? The two men exchanged a confused look, unsure what to make of Russell's gaze.
"I saved your lives. A little payback isn't too much to ask, right?"
"What kind of payback?" Butcher narrowed his eyes, suddenly getting a bad feeling.
"Good news—only three votes are still up in the air, but the result is locked in. The bill to integrate superheroes into the Department of Defense is going through."
Madelyn turned back, practically glowing with smug satisfaction as she shared the news with Homelander from the office sofa.
"Not bad," Homelander said flatly, his tone far from enthusiastic.
Superheroes joining the military didn't benefit him at all. If anything, it reminded him of the white-caped figure he loathed.
Lately, Homelander had been buried under a pile of negative press—his public image was close to collapsing. No wonder he wasn't happy.
Madelyn understood her value among Vought's executives. It was her special relationship with Homelander that had allowed her to rise to the position of Vice President.
Even so, she couldn't go against the board forever. Especially not when Homelander had been stupid enough to challenge them head-on. Still, she had to soothe him somehow.
"Do you remember Becca from the marketing department?"
Madelyn leaned in beside him on the sofa, a gentle smile on her face, about to offer her lap in a motherly gesture of comfort—when Homelander unexpectedly spoke up.
In the past, he would've jumped at any chance to be close to her. Today, he seemed... off.
"Who?"
Hearing the name, Madelyn's heart skipped a beat, though she feigned confusion.
"Becca Butcher. I suddenly remembered her. The police have had her down as a missing person for years. The timing of her disappearance was... interesting. It was the same day she and I spent several hours alone in my office."
Homelander's deep, cold eyes reflected Madelyn's face like still water—there was no room for her to hide the slightest shift in expression.
"Why are you asking about her now?"
Panic crept into Madelyn's voice.
The man in front of her seemed like a different person. No longer radiating warmth or childish dependence—he was distant, grown-up in a terrifying way. But what could cause a man like Homelander to suddenly mature overnight? She couldn't make sense of it.
"Why not? Was she someone important?" He smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"O-Okay... I admit... I've kept something from you all these years. I broke our 'no secrets' rule. But it was for your own good—I didn't want you to be hurt."
Madelyn forced a smile, her voice shaking.
"That Becca Butcher… she was pregnant with your child after that day. Vought found her, took her in, protected her. But she lost the baby. Her weak body couldn't support the demands of carrying your child. Yes, Homelander—you once had a son."
She had figured it out.
Only something as earth-shaking as the knowledge of fatherhood could force Homelander to grow up overnight.
But how did he find out?
"A miscarriage?"
Homelander stood up slowly, his face a blank mask, chin slightly lifted.
"That's not what I heard... from Vogelbaum."
"You… went to Vogelbaum?"
Madelyn's heart skipped a beat.
She had never seen Homelander act this cold toward her. But this wasn't unfamiliar—this was the calm before the storm. The look he gave right before he killed someone.
Why hadn't he come to her first—the person he trusted and adored most?
"Did someone tell you something?"
"Answer me!" Homelander's eyes glowed with seething red energy.
"N-No! Please calm down, John—"
"Don't call me that name. Call me Homelander. 'John' was just some marketing gimmick Vought cooked up to pretend I came from a normal family!"
"But… but 'Homelander' is also a name Vought gave you."
Madelyn's confusion was genuine.
"What did you just say?"
In a flash, Homelander was in front of her, gripping her head with both hands, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.
"Say it again!"
"Please don't hurt me, Homelander."
With strength enough to crush steel, it would only take the slightest squeeze for him to turn her skull into pulp. Madelyn trembled all over, staring into the eyes of a monster.
"You're right. I was born in a Vought lab. I grew up according to their plans. My name, my image, my dreams—they gave me all of it."
Homelander's voice was filled with bitterness, and behind that, a deep self-loathing that only added fuel to his overwhelming rage. His eyes were bloodshot with fury.
"I'm nothing but a freak molded inside Vought's iron cage. A puppet dressed up for show, without a shred of free will. I can't even say what truly belongs to me."
"You must think I'm pathetic, don't you?"
"No… no, I never thought that."
It was like decades of anger and pain had finally found an outlet. As she watched Homelander grow more unstable, Madelyn felt a chill in her bones—and her tears began to fall.