People have been inventing heroes for as long as prose has existed. It is human nature to strive for the ideal and to listen to stories. Accordingly, it's no surprise that tales of the ideal have always been popular. Superheroes and comics are merely a more modern format for expressing that same thought. But what happens if these aren't just stories? What if this is reality? The very reality you live in. Where the life of an ordinary person carries no weight, and the fate of millions is decided by gods who are no strangers to the most disgusting flaws and vices of human nature.
A similar scenario was described in Watchmen, where ordinary people took matters into their own hands and dispensed justice. The result was predictable. Heroes were canceled; they became outlaws. In this world, everything is gradually heading in that direction. Only, instead of one god-like being, there are thousands here. I wouldn't want a simple extermination of posthumans to begin—a group to which I now belong.
Vought, having spent years creating posthumans out of children, uses them as a brand. Tens of thousands of comics, hundreds of movies and series, advertisements at every turn. And there are thousands of these Supes, and their numbers are growing. The Seven is simply the most popular team at the moment, where the most promising have been gathered. And as the annually increasing profits show, Vought hasn't miscalculated with its choice.
But like any person who has achieved something significant, the company's executives want more. Their next goal is to secure a military contract to start promoting Supes as effective weapons. However, they overlook one important nuance: the heroes here have never fought against superior forces. Supes rely entirely on their powers and are extremely willful, which the military understands perfectly. So, this will take more than a few years—perhaps more than ten.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there is no doubt that we are experiencing the dawn of the superhero business. Our revenue is up fourteen percent. Our latest film, Agents: World War, grossed just under one billion seven hundred million dollars worldwide. And this fall, we are opening a theme park near Paris. The branding opportunities are simply limitless," Madelyn announced to the entire hall with her constant smile, reading the text prepared for her. As always, with no particular emotion on her face.
"But you know, all of this... doesn't matter. Because for us, the main thing is the curation, support, and consultation of the brave heroes who put themselves at terrible risk every day for our sake. Your attention, please."
The woman pointed to the screen behind her, which began showing meaningless but catchy footage for Americans, filmed for exorbitant amounts of money. A voiceover said something, but I didn't think it necessary to listen. As always, it was something inspiring and boring, with a touch of patriotism. Everything just the way Madelyn Stillwell likes it—she has been exploiting this approach for twenty years. And quite successfully, strangely enough.
The annual shareholders' meeting is held every year, logically, where they tediously talk about the company's future plans and stock growth. As always, they throw dust in people's eyes before mentioning that the share price has increased slightly. That's why Homelander used to refuse to participate; he simply wasn't interested.
Now, however, the new member of The Seven is being introduced in this hall, where many years ago, at a similar event, Homelander appeared before them. Back then, Stillwell was not yet the vice president of the company, but merely the handler for a hero who was then unknown to anyone. That position was held by Stan Edgar, who handed the role over to her when he became the CEO. Almost everyone currently in The Seven received a similar introduction.
"So many memories," Madelyn smiled, standing next to me. "Remember..."
"I remember everything perfectly. I don't think I need to remind you that my memory is nearly absolute," I grunted, turning to her. I didn't like that she had so much influence over Homelander.
"Are you offended by me for some reason?" She plastered a fake smile on her face, slightly nervous.
My attention wouldn't have caught on it if not for her heartbeat. That's exactly what sparked a serious suspicion in me.
"You know I don't like it when things are hidden from me," I smiled, stepping close to her. My hand reached out to her chin of its own accord and forced her to look me straight in the eyes. "And your confession will be more acceptable than if I find out everything myself. Understand?"
"I..." Madelyn muttered distractedly as her heart beat frantically in her chest.
And at that moment, it became clear to me that I had hit the mark.
"I?"
"I... must go." Stillwell smiled, and backing away from me a couple of steps, she walked calmly toward the stage.
"Interesting." I chuckled, realizing that this secret largely concerned my predecessor, and therefore, me.
"And I have a big surprise for you," Madelyn continued with the same confident smile, though her heartbeat said otherwise. "Meet the leader of The Seven, the greatest superhero on Earth, in person—Homelander!"
The woman waved her hand in my direction, and I had no choice but to step onto the stage with a smile, under the enthusiastic shouts and ovations of the gathered crowd. Approaching her, I gave her a light side-hug and walked to the center of the stage.
"Thank you. Thank you very much," I smiled at the audience, scanning the entire hall with my gaze. "After a long, distinguished career in The Seven, my good friend and comrade, Lamplighter, has retired. Let's give him a proper thank you!"
After my words, the crowd erupted again with applause and shouts. Smartphone cameras were pointed at me; it was familiar to walk across the stage as if it were my own home, enjoying their overt admiration. I definitely liked this treatment. I just had to make sure I didn't get too arrogant.
"And now, looking toward the future, I would like to introduce a special person to you. Someone I can't wait to work with. Your applause for Starlight!"
A blonde almost ran onto the stage in a homemade costume, though it was high quality. However, my eyes noticed every flaw, and I can say with certainty that this suit would easily tear under minor stress. Even The Deep's suit was more protective, though that wasn't his doing.
"Smile and wave to your future fans," I said, setting an example with my actions.
Annie, as her name was outside of her superhero persona, quickly regained her composure and, smiling, waved to the audience in the hall. However, the gleam of delight in her eyes was too obvious, so much so that they literally glowed with a golden light from the overabundance of emotions—indicating that all of this looked like a dream come true to her. It looked incredibly sweet; it'll almost be a shame to personally break those pretty rose-colored glasses.