Malrick remained calm, his gaze unwavering.
"You seem fond of saying one thing and doing another. How does it feel now that I'm doing the same to you?"
Homelander's defiance faltered.
"I suddenly appreciate something you said, Homelander," Malrick continued, his voice low and deliberate. "I'm stronger than every single one of you, so I can do whatever I want."
Originally, Malrick had come solely for Compound V. His detour to confront A-Train had been curiosity—he remembered the impression the superhero left on the show he had once watched. But after witnessing him in person, he understood the truth behind the saying: a great reputation is never undeserved.
This man, Homelander, inspired both disgust and a desire to see him humbled.
Now, watching him slump in the chair, crying and screaming, Malrick felt a quiet satisfaction.
He turned to Ashley. "You're all afraid of Homelander, right? Consider that resolved. Now, go get me some Compound V."
Ashley froze in panic, then quickly handed over the box she had been holding.
"Th-th-this is Compound V, sir. Homelander prepared it!"
Malrick raised an eyebrow. "Homelander?"
He had not observed the trio who left earlier. He hadn't expected Homelander to prepare the Compound V himself.
"Yes, sir! I, I prepared this gift for you!" Homelander stammered, attempting to claim credit.
Malrick glanced at A-Train, whose usual arrogance had melted into a submissive, almost worshipful expression. It reminded him of a son presenting an award to a proud father. Malrick allowed himself a brief pause, savoring the moment.
He flicked his fingers, halting the transformation of Homelander and The Deep into ash. Their left arms had already vanished completely. Both of them, despite having no agreement, cried and laughed, expressing overwhelming gratitude for being spared.
No one knew better than they the terror of witnessing oneself disintegrate.
"Don't celebrate too soon," Malrick warned.
He opened the box, taking out a bottle of Compound V.
With his superhuman vision, Malrick analyzed the liquid in detail: every molecule, every element, and even the chemical bonds within.
"A very creative concept," he mused. "Vought, who developed Compound V, is indeed talented. It's just a pity that almost all the superheroes it produces turn out perverse. Understandable, but still a pity."
With a single glance, he grasped the composition principle. Casually, he broke a second bottle. The blue liquid surged upward like bubbles, suspended in the air.
Twisting his finger slightly, the countless molecules decomposed and reassembled, returning to their original state.
"Go on, try it," he said, dividing the liquid into two portions, floating one each toward Homelander and The Deep.
Neither dared hesitate. They swallowed it instantly.
For a few tense seconds, nothing happened. Then Homelander's face twisted in panic.
"What's happening? My powers—they're draining! My eyes… my Cyclops!"
He tried to activate his heat vision, but his eyes quickly turned red and then returned to normal, uncontrollable.
The Deep clutched his stomach, gasping. "I… my gills! I can't breathe!" He tore open his uniform, revealing his abdomen. His gills, the very organs that allowed him to live underwater, were vanishing. His body was reverting to a normal human form.
Everyone looked at Malrick with dawning realization.
"The Compound V… it can strip superheroes of their powers?" Butcher's eyes sparkled. His question required no answer.
"This changes everything," he muttered. His long-standing goal of eliminating superhumans was finally within reach.
A-Train and Black Noir, witnessing this, shared a terrified glance. They stealthily moved toward the door, desperate to escape before their powers vanished.
Malrick didn't stop them. He focused on Homelander and The Deep, watching as they became ordinary humans, the first in the world to lose their abilities.
Homelander slumped in the chair, desolation etched on his face. The despair ran deeper than any near-death experience he had endured. Powerlessness seeped through his entire being, his heartbeat slowing, unwilling to accept the frailty of his human form.
"Sir… sir, please…" He turned weakly toward Malrick, eyes empty, lips trembling.
Malrick smiled, finally standing. He patted Homelander's shoulder.
"Congratulations. You've been reborn from fire. Say goodbye to your terrible childhood because you now face the harsh reality of ordinary life."
He stepped over Homelander's outstretched legs and then over The Deep, still lying dazed on the floor.
Butcher followed, laughing with sarcastic delight.
"Now we're comrades, Homelander. Our battle isn't over, you're welcome anytime!"
His laughter echoed down the halls—a sound he hadn't made in over ten years. Even with a tumor in his head and only months to live, it felt worth it.
The three left Vought International together. Butcher followed Malrick, who opened another bottle of Compound V and gestured at the floating blue liquid.
"Oi, Boss, what's next?" Butcher asked.
"You don't want it anymore?" Malrick asked, glancing back. "Call me Malrick. I'm not from your world, and I'll be leaving soon. For now, I want this Earth to experience life without superheroes."
Malrick enhanced the Compound V's transmissibility. The liquid evaporated naturally, spreading into the atmosphere.
"Every superhero will lose their abilities permanently," he explained, waving his hand.
Several months later, the changes reshaped the Earth. Superheroes lost their powers, and the news could no longer be hidden. Those with criminal histories were arrested. Homelander, the once-proud captain of the Seven, became the first to suffer, sentenced to nine thousand years in prison, forced to pick up soap.
His son, Ryan, was adopted by Butcher. On the day Malrick departed, Butcher brought Ryan to visit Homelander in prison.
A-Train, once brash and arrogant, had finally transformed into a broken middle-aged man through the monotony of prison life. Through the bars, he begged Butcher to care for Ryan.
Malrick said his goodbyes to Butcher. "Goodbye. Oh, and I'll cure your tumor too."
He pointed at Butcher's head, then vanished, leaving only a trace of his presence behind.
Butcher held Ryan's hand, stunned. "Damn… I think this guy might actually be God."