The super racetrack stadium that Vought built for a fortune was exploding with raw energy.
Tens of thousands of fans packed the stands, their cheers and screams blending into one massive roar that felt like it could rip the dome right off. Camera flashes lit up the place like a million stars, while every long lens and short lens in the media pit locked onto the starting line, desperate not to miss a single frame.
This wasn't just a race.
This was Vought's billion-dollar PR circus, a glitzy show designed to shove the raw power and money-making muscle of their supes straight down the world's throat.
Two figures at the starting line owned every eye on the planet.
The challenger: Shockwave.
Young, cocky, muscles coiled and ready to explode, eyes blazing with that hungry "I'm gonna take the crown" fire. He was Vought's shiny new toy, the next-gen speedster they were pushing hard to rival A-Train.
The defending champ: A-Train.
Ryan wore the face perfectly, nailing the arrogant, cocky swagger of the so-called "fastest man alive," as well as the underlying twitch of drug jitters that the original had in his memories. Even his brother will be fooled by his acting, let alone Homelander and the people who were in the know about A-train's drug and heart predicament.
He turned toward the cameras and flashed A-Train's signature shit-eating grin, soaking in the crowd's hysterical screams.
The thunderous noise hit him like a drug. Familiar. Strange. That old rush from his past life quietly woke up inside him—the rush of standing on top of the world while millions screamed your name.
But this wasn't some concert stage. He wasn't here to sing or dance for the crowd.
What he was about to put on was a public, bloody execution for the entire fucking planet to watch.
Bang!
The starting gun cracked.
Both figures shot forward like bullets.
Their speed was insane—two blurred streaks ripping down the track, too fast for the naked eye to follow.
In the first half of the race, Ryan held back and didn't unleash everything.
Like a leopard messing with its food, Ryan kept a tiny, teasing gap between them on purpose.
Sometimes he let Shockwave pull half a body length ahead, then casually ate up the distance on the next bend.
Shockwave thought this was a nail-biter that would come down to the final inch.
Hearing A-Train's heavy breathing right beside him and seeing that "I'm giving everything" face, the kid's chest swelled with confidence. He really believed today was his day to dethrone the legend and start his own era.
He had no clue he wasn't chasing an equal.
He was chasing a devil who was just playing with him.
The second the race hit the final straightaway, a nasty smile spread across Ryan's face.
Game over.
He dropped the act.
That insane super speed—fused with A-Train's own and cranked even higher by his Son of God bloodline—exploded out of him.
Shockwave only felt a savage hurricane blast past his body. Then the guy who had been running shoulder-to-shoulder with him turned into a blue lightning bolt that looked like it ripped straight through space.
It was teleportation-level speed, pure fucking nonsense that would make every physicist lose their minds.
Shockwave's eyes went wide as that blue streak left him in the dust, still pumping his legs for all he was worth.
The big screen showed the footage from the high-speed cameras filming at thousands of frames per second.
Ryan didn't just win.
He crushed the kid in the most humiliating, insulting way possible and made sure the whole world saw it.
The moment the blue lightning crossed the finish line in the screen, the stadium went nuclear.
Deafening cheers exploded again. Fireworks blasted overhead, colorful confetti poured down like a storm, and the victory music blasted at full volume.
Everything went exactly according to the script Vought had written if A-Train won.
Shockwave lost. He lost in a way he couldn't even explain, and he lost completely.
But with all those cameras on him, he still had to paste on the perfect superhero face.
He caught his breath and jogged over to Ryan, forcing a bitter but still "sincere" smile onto his face.
He stuck out his hand, ready to congratulate the unbeatable "fastest man on Earth."
"You're too fucking fast, man, I—"
He never finished the sentence.
The instant Shockwave's fingers were about to touch Ryan's shoulder, Ryan moved.
His speed was obscene—too fast for even the high-speed cameras filming at thousands of frames per second. They only caught a mess of blurred, overlapping afterimages.
He didn't shake hands.
Instead, he poured all that monster speed he'd just used to humiliate the kid straight into his fist with vicious intent.
Before anyone could blink.
His right arm shot forward like a red-hot spear through warm butter. With a wet, sickening thwack, it punched clean through Shockwave's chest, high-tech suit and all.
[Plunder successful! Target: 'Shockwave.']
[Acquired: Super Speed, Super Endurance….]
[Speed ability fusion enhanced. Host's maximum speed doubled!]
The cold system message flashed through Ryan's head.
He felt fresh power flood into his body, the same kind, only stronger. His command over speed jumped to a whole new level.
Outside, the whole world went dead silent.
Every cheer, every beat of music, every scream—cut off instantly.
Time fucking froze.
Shockwave slowly looked down, eyes wide with disbelief, staring at the arm buried in his chest. Warm blood and chunks of his own organs dripped from Ryan's fist. His young face twisted with pure confusion, shock, and desperate hunger to keep living.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but only thick spurts of blood poured out.
Finally, his legs gave out. He sank to his knees, slow and weak. The light in his eyes died completely. He was gone.
The entire stadium was frozen in shock.
Tens of thousands of people in the stands, hundreds of millions watching live around the world, and every single Vought employee running the event.
The entire world watched, frozen in place, as this bloody, nightmarish, completely fucked-up scene unfolded right in front of them.
One superhero had just murdered another superhero on live television, on the victory stage, in front of the whole planet.
After a split-second of deathly silence, an explosion of pure panic ripped through the stadium like a volcano.
"Ahhh—!"
Screams, cries, and curses blasted into the air.
The crowd lost their minds, shoving and trampling each other in a desperate stampede toward the exits. The whole place turned into total fucking chaos.
Vought's security forces flipped to the highest-level emergency protocol. Dozens of heavily armed guards poured out from every direction, high-powered weapons all locked onto the killer "A-Train" still standing in the middle of the track.
But Ryan didn't run.
He slowly yanked his arm out of Shockwave's corpse with a wet squelch, letting the warm blood spray across his suit and face.
He ripped the microphone from a reporter who was too scared to move.
His expression had completely changed. The arrogance and cruelty were gone, replaced by perfectly acted terror and cornered madness.
He screamed into the mic at the top of his lungs, voice cracking with hysteria:
"I killed him! Because I didn't want to die! They forced me!"
"If I didn't kill him, they'd do the same shit to me as they did to Translucent, Starlight, and The Deep! They'd just disappear me quietly!"
That single sentence hit the boiling pot of public opinion like a bucket of ice water thrown into hot oil.
It exploded worldwide.
Translucent?
Starlight?
The Deep?
Weren't they all on some secret mission?
What the fuck did A-Train just say?
The crowd's minds raced with the same horrifying thought.
Could it be… they were all already dead?
After dropping that world-shaking bomb, the "fear" on Ryan's face vanished in a heartbeat.
It was replaced by a quick, devilish smirk.
He hurled the microphone aside, his body exploding into a blue lightning bolt even faster and more savage than before.
A deafening sonic boom ripped through the air as he blasted off, vanishing in an instant.
...
Inside Vought Tower, Madelyn and the rest of the executives sat frozen, staring at the bloody live feed and "A-Train's" explosive final words.
All the dirty secrets they had fought so hard to bury had just been blasted out to the entire planet in the most brutal, public, and permanent way possible.
Right then, Homelander launched himself from the top floor of Vought Tower.
In front of countless cameras and watching eyes, his face was twisted in "righteous" fury and "grief" over a fallen colleague.
He shot off in the exact direction "A-Train" had fled, flying at maximum speed.
Soon after, a new video appeared on Homelander's Twitter.
"Everyone, I will get to the bottom of this. I promise. Please trust me and have no fear, for I, Homelander, am here!"