The Deep's confession hit the internet at 6 AM and exploded like a nuclear bomb.
I watched it happen in real-time from Butcher's hideout, monitoring social media feeds and news outlets. The video was raw, unedited, damning—The Deep sitting in front of his phone camera, systematically confessing to twenty-three assaults, naming victims, providing dates and locations, explaining how Vought had covered everything up with NDAs and hush money.
"Holy shit," Hughie whispered, staring at the screens. "He's actually doing it."
"What did you do to him?" MM asked, looking at me with a mixture of respect and concern.
"I made him tell the truth," I said simply. "Every word of that confession is real. No lies, no exaggeration. Just raw, unfiltered honesty about what he's done."
Butcher was grinning like a wolf. "This is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Vought's PR team is going to shit themselves trying to spin this."
And spin they tried. Within an hour, Vought released a statement claiming The Deep was having a mental breakdown, that the video was fabricated, that they were investigating the claims. But it was too little, too late. The internet had already made up its mind.
#MeToo exploded across social media. Women were coming forward with their own stories about The Deep, about other Supes, about Vought's systematic cover-ups of abuse. What I'd intended as justice for Annie had become a reckoning for the entire superhero industry.
"We need to capitalize on this," Butcher said, pacing excitedly. "Strike while Vought's reeling. What other Supes can we expose?"
"Translucent," I suggested. "I've been monitoring him with our surveillance. He's been using his invisibility to spy on women in changing rooms, bathrooms, private moments. We've got footage."
"Perfect. How do we get him?"
I smiled coldly. "Leave that to me. I'll handle Translucent personally."
This would be my second kill, my second power absorption. And unlike The Deep, Translucent wouldn't get mercy. Invisibility was too useful an ability to pass up, and he'd proven himself to be exactly the kind of monster who deserved permanent removal.
Frenchie pulled up files on Translucent—real name Kevin Moskowitz, powers including invisibility and a carbon-metamaterial skin that made him nearly indestructible from the outside. Nearly indestructible wasn't the same as completely indestructible, though.
"His skin is impenetrable from external attacks," Frenchie explained, "but his insides? Normal human biology. If we can get something inside him—an explosive, a poison—he dies like anyone else."
"Or," I said, studying the files, "I use my hypnosis to make him swallow something lethal willingly."
The room went quiet.
"That's cold-blooded, mate," Butcher said, but he was still grinning. "I like it."
MM shook his head. "You're really going to mind-control someone into killing themselves?"
"He's a sexual predator who's violated hundreds of women's privacy," I countered. "He uses his powers to watch them undress, shower, use the bathroom. He records it and shares it with other Supes. Yes, I'm going to kill him. And yes, I'm going to take his powers and use them to bring down more monsters."
"The line between justice and murder is getting pretty thin," Hughie said quietly.
He wasn't wrong. Every time I used my powers to kill, even when it was justified, I was becoming something darker. Something more like the monsters I fought. But what choice did I have? In a world where Supes like Homelander existed, where corporations protected rapists and murderers, someone had to be willing to cross those lines.
"Keep me honest," I told them. "All of you. If I start going too far, if I start killing people who don't deserve it, stop me. That's why I'm working with you instead of alone."
Butcher studied me for a long moment. "Alright. We'll keep you on the straight and narrow. But first, let's kill that invisible pervert and add his powers to your collection."