Vought Pushes the Button
Stormfront didn't need convincing.
He needed permission.
Vought gave it to him wrapped in language he loved: restoring order, preserving purity, protecting the future.
He descended from the sky wrapped in lightning and rhetoric, cameras trailing him like worshippers.
"These things," he snarled aloud, voice broadcast worldwide, "are proof that strength must be controlled. That power must belong to the right hands."
Bala yawned.
Tehm tilted his head.
"Why does he talk so much?" Tehm asked.
"I think he's scared," Bala replied.
They didn't wait.
They flew.
..
Stormfront followed, screaming accusations into the wind, lightning cracking around his fists.
"You can't run from destiny!"
They didn't run.
They rose.
Into thinner air.
Into silence.
Into a place where Stormfront's voice stopped carrying.
He surged forward too eager.
Too loud.
Bala spun.
A clean, brutal roundhouse kick caught Stormfront across the face mid-rant. The impact snapped his head sideways, lightning scattering uselessly as he tumbled.
Before he could stabilize....
Tehm then feinted high, Bala hit him from below, a spear-like tackle driven by instinct and momentum. The collision punched them both upward.
Stormfront screamed.
Not in pain.
In disbelief.
Bala's grip tightened.
His jaw closed once not savagely, not prolonged but instinctively, ki flaring without his conscious control. Stormfront convulsed as internal systems failed, lightning sputtering and misfiring.
Bala released him.
Used the momentum.
And threw him into orbit.
Stormfront vanished into the black.
.....
The twins hovered side by side.
They inhaled.
Their mouths glowed not wild this time, but compressed, dense, unstable.
Two beams merged.
The heat warped space.
Stormfront's silhouette burned away in silence.
When the light faded, only a drifting, unconscious form remained alive, but utterly defeated, spinning helplessly beyond atmosphere.
The twins turned back.
Mission complete .
.....
At the Camp
They landed laughing.
"Did you see his face?" Tehm bragged.
"He stopped talking!" Bala added.
Broko listened.
Then placed a heavy hand on each of their heads.
"Well done."
They froze instantly, sitting straight.
Broko's voice dropped.
"You felt it today," he said. "The difference between noise and power."
He looked out across the desert.
"This world will resist you. Not with honor. With tricks. With lies."
The twins nodded.
"You will dominate without underestimating," Broko continued. "Disrupt their centers of control. Break their confidence. Show them they are not alone at the top."
"When?" Bala asked.
"Soon," Broko said. "Tomorrow, you observe. You choose targets that matter."
The twins grinned.
Broko Leaves
He didn't explain everything.
Not yet.
He turned skyward.
"I have some unfinished unfinished business."
Nina
She didn't meet his eyes at first.
"I was taken," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have been."
Broko knelt in front of her.
"You survived."
She hesitated.
"Broko… I'm pregnant again."
The anger in him paused, shocked again .
Then joy broke through brief, fierce, real.
He kissed her forehead.
Then his expression hardened.
"They will pay."
Elsewhere...
ARGUS
Broko didn't knock.
Facilities went dark.
Containment failed.
Cloned Saiyan prototypes activated blindly brainless, unstable, grotesque imitations.
Broko destroyed them efficiently, without spectacle.
Then he left.
The message was clear.
Do not touch what you don't understand.
....
Elsewhere, the twins hovered unseen, watching screens.
Homelander paced.
Screamed.
Destroyed his own penthouse.
"They're watching me," he muttered, eyes darting around . "I know they are."
~
That night, infrastructure failed.
Power grids collapsed.
Government buildings were rendered unusable not destroyed, but humiliated.
A massive ki sphere detonated high above, destabilizing systems across a region before dissipating.
The twins pulled back, panting.
"That was too big," Bala said.
Tehm nodded. "Dad's gonna yell."
They laughed anyway.