The New York City skyline turned into the perfect stage for a chase the whole world was watching.
Countless media helicopters swarmed like vultures, frantically tailing the two blazing-fast figures weaving between the skyscrapers.
Down on the streets, thousands of people craned their necks and held their phones up high, trying to capture every second of this historic shitshow.
Homelander, the symbol of the nation, the face of justice itself.
Right now, in the name of "justice," with every camera in the country locked on him, he was hunting down the traitor A-Train, who had just butchered his fellow Superhero on live TV during the Century Race.
His face carried the perfect mix of grief and steel-hard determination.
His golden hair whipped around in the wind, star-spangled cape snapping behind him as he played the role of the betrayed, pissed-off leader out for blood.
But under that Oscar-level act, his real thoughts were simple.
He already knew the blue lightning bolt ahead of him was almost certainly his reckless, ballsy son Ryan.
This little kid had caused him another massive headache!
Still, he didn't call it out. He played along perfectly and used the live global broadcast to his advantage.
While keeping up the chase, he casually pulled out a custom phone and switched on selfie video mode.
In the frame, his handsome face looked full of sorrow and unbreakable resolve.
"People of the world, I am Homelander."
His deep, commanding voice blasted across the internet and reached every corner of the planet.
"A rising star, a very hardworking young man, and my friend Shockwave, was brutally murdered by the Seven's former member, A-Train, in the race that just ended. I am deeply saddened and furious about this."
"I don't know why he did it, but I promise you," his eyes burned with the fire of "justice," "I will not tolerate any traitor! I will bring him to justice and deliver answers to Shockwave's family and friends, to Vought, and to every single one of you!"
This heroic but completely fake speech shot across the internet like wildfire, racking up massive support and sympathy from millions.
Meanwhile, Ryan's eyes held nothing but cold calculation and a spark of mischief.
His speed, now fused with both A-Train and Shockwave's powers and boosted even further by his own bloodline, had already left Homelander eating dust behind him.
But he didn't shake him off.
Like a bratty owner taking his dog for a walk, he deliberately slowed down every now and then, glancing back to make sure his hardworking, cheap-ass dad didn't fall too far behind.
He needed a completely private spot for the real conversation coming up.
After blasting hundreds of kilometers and leaving every camera far behind, he finally picked a massive stretch of empty open ocean, far from all shipping routes.
Ryan stopped.
Hovering above the choppy waves, he dropped A-Train's form and reverted to his innocent seven-year-old kid body. He floated quietly in the air, waiting for his father.
Soon, a golden-red figure tore through the sky with a sharp whistle and stopped right in front of him.
The second Homelander saw Ryan, all his suspicions were confirmed.
He dropped every ounce of the act he'd put on for the cameras. The grief and rage on his face disappeared instantly.
What replaced it was a messy look—tired, irritated, and just a little helpless.
He let out a deep sigh.
"It's you after all, my son."
Then Homelander asked, his tone almost like a subordinate reporting to his boss, something he didn't even notice himself.
"A-Train… he's dead too?"
Ryan gave a calm nod, like he'd just squashed a bug.
He pointed down at the dark, churning sea below and asked with a playful little smirk.
"You want his body? His girlfriend Popclaw's down there too. Both of them in two big boxes."
Homelander rolled his eyes hard and finally let his frustration spill out.
"Can't you make this shit easier for me? Digging through the ocean for that garbage is a fucking pain!"
Ryan ignored his weak, angry whining. His face turned serious in a flash.
"Now's not the time for complaining."
"I've already blown Vought's scandals wide open. They're probably panicking their asses off right now."
"But once they get their shit together, they'll come after me—after us—with everything they've got."
Homelander frowned, his voice dripping with that natural arrogance.
"Who the hell are they gonna send? Those worthless newbies? Lamplighter? Or that bitch Stormfront?"
"No."
Ryan shook his head, shooting down the naive thought.
He looked straight at Homelander and dropped the name slowly, one word at a time, watching it hit like a hammer.
"They'll drag out your immortal father. My cheap-ass grandpa. Soldier Boy. They'll thaw him out of the freezer."
Boom!
S-Soldier Boy...? Those words slammed into Homelander's skull like a thunderclap.
"My... my father?"
Homelander stood completely stunned. For the first time, that always-confident face of his went blank with pure bewilderment.
This was the first time in his life he'd ever heard his father even existed.
He had always believed he was a one-of-a-kind miracle cooked up in a lab.
Ryan didn't give him time to process the bomb he'd just dropped. His voice stayed ice-cold and flat.
"If you can't handle it, I'll kill him myself when the time comes. Otherwise, we both die. Between us and him, only one walks away."
Homelander stared at Ryan—at that soft child's face and those eyes colder than ice.
A deep, bone-chilling dread crawled up from the pit of his stomach.
He was brutal. He treated human lives like trash.
But even he had never considered killing a father he'd never met, his own flesh and blood.
Yet his seven-year-old son was casually plotting patricide like it was nothing.
This level of cruelty was way beyond what Homelander could wrap his head around.
"But.. Why?" he asked, voice hoarse and strained.
"Can't we… team up with him? If the three of us join forces, who the hell could stop us?"
Those words laid bare his pathetic, lifelong craving for family and blood ties.
Ryan smiled. That smile was pure, undisguised contempt and mockery for his cheap father's stupidity.
"Team up with him? Dad, you're too fucking naive."
"An old fossil like Soldier Boy who crawled out of World War II hates 'stars' like you. Guys who get packaged by the media and only know how to pose for cameras. In his eyes, you're not a warrior. You're just a product."
"He'll hate me even more. I'm the kid born from his most hated enemy."
Seeing Homelander's face twist through different emotions, Ryan switched gears and sounded almost reasonable.
"Whatever. Killing him won't be easy anyway."
"You can spend some time with him first. After you see what kind of man he really is, then we can decide."
"With the two of us working together, taking him down will be simple. But if either of us tries it alone, it'll probably be a real pain in the ass."
These words gave Homelander an easy out while cleverly tying their father-son interests even tighter together.
"The bodies you want are in the sea right below us. Go fish them out yourself."
Ryan reminded him again, tone flat like he was ordering around a servant.
"I've got other shit to handle. Gotta keep hunting down those loose, disobedient supes."
With that, Ryan didn't waste another second. His body turned intangible and he vanished straight into the open sky.
"...."
Homelander was left hovering alone above the ocean, face twisted with a mess of emotions. He stayed like that for a long time.
Shock, rage, excitement, fear, pride…
All of it churned and tangled inside him.
In the end, it all collapsed into one helpless, pissed-off sigh.
Like a misfired rocket, he dove straight down into the cold, dark water, full of frustration.
He started the miserable, god-tier job of hunting for suitcases in the depths.
Meanwhile, Ryan was already on his way to grab a massive stash of Compound V using the location Popclaw had given him.