"Who?!"
Chris, startled, abruptly stood up and spun around.
A figure emerged from the darkness behind him, cold eyes fixed on him like a predator watching its prey.
The suffocating aura pressing against him made his body freeze, as though he was facing something far beyond human.
"Haven't you been investigating me, Mr. Reporter? Don't tell me you don't know who I am."
Adrian stepped out from the shadows, his face catching the faint silver glow of the moonlight spilling through the window.
Chris's eyes widened. His breath hitched.
"Adrian Kent?! How… how did you—?! The alarms—"
Adrian raised his hand casually. In his palm, the shattered remains of the infrared sensor glittered like broken glass. He crushed the pieces into dust with a faint squeeze.
"These toys are good for petty thieves, but against me? Useless."
Despite Chris's trembling posture, Adrian's voice remained relaxed, smooth, even mocking. "At first, I assumed you were just another one of Lex Luthor's hired rats. But then I discovered your real allegiance. You're not a reporter at all—you're an Owl."
Chris's throat tightened. He instinctively stepped back, trying to mask the panic flickering in his eyes.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about!"
A sudden gust of wind rushed past him before he could react. His face stung, and when his hand shot up instinctively, he realized the mask was gone.
Adrian twirled the white, sharp-beaked mask between his fingers, his expression calm, almost amused.
"Interesting craftsmanship," Adrian murmured, running his thumb along the etched patterns. "In Gotham, they tell children nursery rhymes: Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time. They lurk in the shadows of Gotham City, hiding in the walls and ceilings."
His eyes flickered with a sharp glint.
"Ancient noble families once controlled that city, using assassins called Talons to enforce their will. At least, that's what the legend says. I used to think it was just a bedtime story… until I found one of their pets here in Metropolis."
"I don't understand!" Chris's voice cracked as he retreated further.
Adrian tilted his head, studying him like a hawk would a trembling rabbit. "Don't insult me. You understand perfectly. This morning, my father released an owl he caught in the barn. Tonight, I catch another owl. Funny how fate works, isn't it?"
Sweat dripped down Chris's forehead. "What do you want from me?"
Adrian's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Simple. The location of the Council here in Metropolis. Names, identities, every last one of them. You tell me, and maybe you live."
"Never!"
Desperation gave Chris courage. He lunged toward the cabinet, pulling out a pair of steel gauntlets shaped like sharpened claws—Talons designed to rip through flesh and steel alike. He slipped them on and slashed at Adrian with all his strength.
The blades whistled through the air.
Adrian didn't move. He simply raised his hand and caught the strike mid-swing. Metal screeched under his grip, sparks flying as the steel bent uselessly in his palm.
Chris's eyes went wide.
Then Adrian's left fist drove into his chest.
The sound was dull and brutal, like a hammer striking stone. Chris's body shot backward like a cannonball, smashing into the heavy oak cabinet. Wood splintered into shards that scattered across the floor.
Chris collapsed onto the ground, coughing violently, blood bubbling at his lips.
"You monster," he wheezed, eyes burning with hatred and terror.
Adrian walked forward slowly, his boots crunching on broken wood. His gaze was cold, detached, as though Chris was nothing more than a pest.
"So? Do you surrender to the monster?"
Chris spat blood and snarled, "Never!"
Twin beams of searing red light erupted from Adrian's eyes. The Heat Vision cut through the air and pierced Chris's chest, burning straight through his heart. The body slumped lifelessly to the ground.
The room fell silent.
Far away, in a concealed chamber, the Owl Council of Metropolis sat around a long polished table. Cloaked in robes and wearing their masks, they whispered nervously.
"What happened? Why did communication cut out?!"
"Was it interference? A hack?"
Their murmurs turned panicked until the leader slammed his fist on the table. "Silence!"
But before he could restore order, the darkened screen in front of them flickered back to life.
It wasn't Chris.
A shadowed figure filled the display. Only the outline of his jaw and the gleam in his eyes were visible.
"Who are you? Where's Chris?" one of them demanded.
"Dead."
The voice was calm, measured, carrying no regret—only certainty.
"You did this?!" the leader shouted, his tone furious.
"Looks like it."
"You fool! Do you have any idea what you've brought upon yourself? The Court sees everything. No matter where you hide, no matter where you sleep, we will find you. Even in your bed, we will take your head!"
Adrian leaned closer to the camera, finally letting the lower half of his face catch the light. His expression was a chilling blend of pride and menace.
"You want my name?"
The room seemed to freeze, every masked figure waiting, dreading the words that would follow.
Adrian's lips curled into a razor-sharp smile.
"I am Homelander."
---