Los pushed [Enhance] into the pen in his hand.
The tip caught the night air with a cold gleam once the cap was off, pointed directly at Rufus and the students behind him.
Over dinner, his conversation with Jordan had filled in a lot about how Godolkin actually operated.
In this particular school, a superpowered campus, the law of the jungle ran unchecked, and the administration had a quiet, unofficial tolerance for exactly this kind of behavior.
Bullying like Rufus pulling was practically built into the system: a high-pressure environment burned through the weak fast, and Godolkin’s definition of an ideal graduate had nothing to do with character.
The school wasn’t producing heroes.
It was producing powerful supes.
So on his very first day, Los had exactly zero intention of backing down.
Back off once here and the whole school would write you off.
He had stood in front of Homelander without flinching.
Rufus and his crew were nowhere near that tier.
“What are you going to do with a pen?”
Rufus and the group behind him laughed.
The laughing was genuine.
But Rufus could feel it: this kid was serious.
Eyes dark and sharp as a hawk’s, no hesitation anywhere in him, the look of someone who would genuinely come at you with everything the moment a fight started.
Who was this guy?
He wasn’t anywhere on the top hundred list.
Rufus felt a low irritation settle in.
He had come out here looking for an easy target.
The standoff was still hanging in the air when a figure stepped onto the athletic field and pulled every eye in the vicinity without doing anything at all.
Los glanced over.
Under the track’s dim lighting, a pair of long legs in thigh-high boots came out of the darkness first.
The girl they belonged to was genuinely stunning.
A loose white button-down, black shorts that hugged her figure, and between the tops of those boots and the hem of those shorts: a stretch of pale, flawless skin that drew the eye and held it.
Los looked a second longer than he needed to.
Her skin reflected the light.
Gold hair down to her waist moved like silk in the night air.
Her features were doll-perfect, lips full and red, a glimpse of flat midriff showing between the shirt and the shorts with not an ounce of anything extra.
She could have been the cover of any fashion magazine in New York.
The blonde girl looked across the field toward Rufus.
“Rufus.
Do you need me to call the dean right now?”
“Cate.
Hey.”
Rufus ran his tongue over his lips.
He didn’t bother disguising what he was looking at, his gaze sitting on Cate like she was already his.
But her words made him think twice.
The administration looked the other way on bullying as a general policy.
But if it got loud enough, or if it landed on the dean’s desk, that was a different conversation entirely.
He didn’t deliberate long.
Rufus waved a hand and turned away.
“Lucky night for these two.
Once Rufus and the athletic crew had cleared out, Jordan turned to Cate.
“Thanks.”
She knew Cate had come over specifically to defuse it.
Going up against Rufus with just herself and Los, she wasn’t confident in the outcome.
“I’m just glad you’re both okay.”
Cate smiled warmly.
“I’m putting together an off-campus social this weekend.
A lot of new students are already in.
You’re both welcome.”
“We’ll think it over and let you know.
Los, let’s go.”
Jordan pulled Los away by the arm.
Once they were clear of the field, Jordan didn’t wait for questions.
She ran through the players.
“The one leading them was Rufus.
His ability is telepathy and mind control: get within touching distance of him and you’re basically done.
He can shut down your ability to fight.”
Jordan let out a breath.
“His ranking is close to mine.
He’s 22nd, I’m 21st.
He’s probably looking to close that gap by pushing me down.
You got caught in it because you were with me.”
Los had already figured that much out.
At Godolkin, rankings were assigned the moment students enrolled, based on ability assessment and public follower count.
The higher your rank, the better your access to the Lamplighter crime-fighting program, and after graduation, the better your shot at a government hero contract, or a spot in The Seven.
“The blonde girl?” Los asked.
“Cate.
She came in at rank 12 as a first-year.
Her ability is similar to Rufus’s: she can manipulate people’s minds through physical contact.”
Jordan seemed to think of something and looked at Los with a more serious expression.
“You should know that superpowers in this world come with their own costs.”
Los nodded.
In this world, superpowers didn’t come from genetic mutation or accidental exposure.
They came from Compound V, a Vought International product injected during infancy that unlocked latent potential.
As a result, most supes carried some degree of physical or psychological abnormality.
Of course, almost no one outside Vought’s inner circle knew any of this.
The company’s official line had always been simple: supes were God’s chosen.
Jordan continued.
“Mental-type ability users like those two are tricky to deal with, and they tend to have issues.
Psychological ones.”
“I’d rather avoid them if I can.”
“Cate especially.
She’s significantly more dangerous than Rufus.”
Jordan studied Los for a moment with a knowing look.
I get it, even in my male state.”
Los instinctively moved to explain himself, then decided against it.
Checking her out was too strong.
At most he’d appreciated the legs, which was basic human nature.
“I’d still tell you to drop it before it goes anywhere.”
Jordan patted his shoulder, voice dropping into something more serious.
“A lot of people are after her.
From what I know, about half the top thirty have their eyes on her.
The ones with the best shot right now are probably Golden Boy, who’s ranked second, and Andre Anderson at sixth.”
“Who’s ranked first?” Los asked.
“Blindspot.
He’s a third-year, though, and he’s already off campus.
Word is he’s about to join The Seven.”
There was open envy in Jordan’s voice.
Getting into The Seven was the goal every Godolkin student worked toward.
The peak of what a supe’s career could look like.
Only Los, who knew exactly what that peak actually was, shook his head privately.
Join The Seven and work alongside Homelander?
That was a joke.
That was walking straight into hell.
At the same moment.
Vought International headquarters.
Midtown Manhattan.
Ashley, one of Vought’s senior staff and Homelander’s dedicated PR assistant and secretary, led Homelander into a brightly lit training room.
A young man in a black blindfold and a fitted combat suit was already standing there waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back.
“Homelander, this is Blindspot.”
Ashley kept her professional smile in place.
“Translucent’s whereabouts are still unknown.
The company has internally concluded that he’s most likely dead.
The recommendation is for Blindspot to fill the vacancy in The Seven on a temporary basis.”
“Blindspot.
It’s an incredible honor to meet you, sir.”
Blindspot’s voice carried a slight tremor he couldn’t quite keep out.
The joy on his face was plainly visible as he turned toward Homelander to introduce himself.
Homelander smiled, eyeing the completely sightless Blindspot with genuine curiosity.
“Hold on.
You knew that was me?”
“Don’t need super eyes when you’ve got super ears.”
Blindspot tapped one of his ears with a proud, easy grin.
The muscle at the corner of Homelander’s eye twitched once.
His smile held perfectly.
“Incredible.”
“Thank you for saying so.” Blindspot was thrilled.
He knew that earning Homelander’s approval meant he was officially a member of The Seven.
What he didn’t know was that the road ahead was hell.