The air in The Seven's private conference room on the top floor of Vought Tower was so thick it felt like you could chew it.
Around the massive round table, the mood wasn't a meeting. It was a fucking funeral.
Homelander sat at the head like a marble statue, face blank, cold, and completely empty.
Next to him was the patched-together, half-broken "New Seven."
Queen Maeve looked exhausted as hell, eyes dead, sitting there like a soulless doll someone dragged back in.
Lamplighter kept shooting dirty looks at Homelander, clearly pissed about being forced back.
Blindspot, the new nervous wreck, fidgeted like a lamb tossed into a lion pit, barely breathing.
And Stormfront, the ancient bitch, sat with her arms crossed, staring at everyone like they were toddlers playing dress-up. Her eyes carried that old, calculating weight.
On the other side of the table, the empty chairs for Translucent, The Deep, Starlight, and A-Train screamed about the bloody shitshow that just went down.
Madelyn Stillwell personally ran the meeting.
Her face was dead serious as she looked at each so-called hero and laid out the disaster in a low, hard voice.
"A-Train's betrayal and his death, plus that final bomb he dropped about Translucent, The Deep, and Starlight being dead, has blown up into a global public opinion nightmare. Our stock just lost tens of billions in twenty-four hours. Public trust is in the fucking toilet."
She paused, then shifted her tone and looked straight at Homelander.
"But even in this crisis, we caught a glimpse of hope."
Her voice filled with open admiration.
"I want to give special praise to Homelander. At the worst possible moment, he showed real leadership. He personally brought back the traitor A-Train's body and defended Vought's dignity and justice in front of the entire world."
She stopped for a beat, then her voice turned ice-cold and sharp again.
"But this is nowhere near enough."
"Because the real bastard pulling the strings, the one who manipulated A-Train and started this whole shitstorm, is still out there."
Madelyn dropped the suspense.
She nodded at her assistant, who flipped on the holographic projector in the middle of the table.
A bright flash, and a crystal-clear freeze-frame from the destroyed secret base's security footage popped up for everyone to see.
It showed a blond boy who looked no older than seven.
Casual clothes, soft kid face, but those icy blue eyes were cold as frozen steel, staring straight through the screen like he could see every person in the room.
"According to our highest-level intel," Madelyn's voice cut like ice, hammering into everyone's chest, "a string of recent attacks on Vought, including the total destruction of our top gene lab and the deaths of three Seven members, all trace back to this child."
"He is an extremely dangerous superpowered terrorist."
"Until we find him and put him down, none of our problems go away."
Lamplighter, Blindspot, Stormfront, and the rest barely reacted as they looked at the photo. To them, it was just another target Vought needed to erase, no matter how innocent the kid looked.
But Homelander, sitting at the head of the table....
The second the image appeared, his god-like handsome face stayed blank, but under the table his fists clenched so hard his nails sliced into his palms.
He didn't feel any pain.
A monstrous rage, the kind that comes from being played and betrayed, erupted inside him like a volcano that had been building for a billion years.
If Ryan hadn't come to him earlier, if he didn't already know the truth, he might have sat here like a good little dog, taken the order, and happily gone out to hunt down his own biological son.
Madelyn never noticed the murderous fury that flashed in Homelander's icy blue eyes before he buried it perfectly.
She kept laying out Vought's plan.
"Homelander's earlier proposal has been greenlit by the board," Madelyn announced. "We're dumping every ounce of blame on that regular guy Hughie Campbell. We'll paint him as the leader of an anti-supe terrorist cell, radicalized by this mystery kid. Your main public job from now on is to hunt down and wipe out this so-called terrorist group and fix Vought's image."
After laying out the PR bullshit meant for the cameras and the public, Madelyn waved everyone else out, leaving only Homelander in the room.
Once it was just the two of them, she walked over to him. Her voice dripped with trust, dependence, and even fake maternal warmth.
"Homelander, I know this is complicated for you and you're exhausted. But you're Vought's ace. The only one who can hold this together."
Her tone turned dead serious.
"About that child… intel says he's a natural-born superhuman. His powers… they might be very similar to yours. This is an unprecedented threat, but also an incredibly valuable asset."
She watched his face closely and kept talking in that smooth, persuasive voice.
"I'm putting you fully in charge of this. I need you to bring the boy back alive. He's vital to Vought. He cannot be destroyed."
Then Madelyn's voice dropped into a low, seductive purr.
"If you bring him back… maybe I'll give you some very private rewards…"
...
After the meeting ended, Madelyn went straight back to her office and locked the door.
The trusting, motherly look on her face disappeared instantly.
It was replaced by pure ice and ruthless calculation.
She picked up a heavily encrypted satellite phone and dialed.
On the other end was a black-ops team made up of Vought's best retired special forces killers, already geared up and ready.
"Plan B is a go," Madelyn said, voice flat and emotionless. "Target codename: 'Popsicle'. Location: Russia, Kamchatka Peninsula."
"I don't give a fuck how you do it. Bring him back to me. This is top priority."
The call ended.
...
Thousands of kilometers away, in a secret military base, the task force commander opened the fresh mission file.
A holographic projection lit up, showing Soldier Boy in his old-school Stars and Stripes uniform, shield in hand, eyes hard as steel.
Below the objective, two crystal-clear photos were attached.
One was the blond seven-year-old boy, Ryan.
The other was Vought's golden boy, the world's favorite hero — Homelander.
In the mission type column, two words flashed in blood-red:
[RECOVER OR ELIMINATE].
Vought's real fangs were finally out, hidden and ready to bite.
...
Homelander stayed behind in the empty conference room, alone.
He replayed Madelyn's "trusting" and manipulative words in his head. The rage inside him nearly burned him alive.
He wasn't just furious that Vought had hidden his son's existence from him.
He was fucking livid that they were trying to use him like a trained dog, petting his neck and sending him out to fetch his own flesh and blood.
But cold reason cut through the anger. He had to play along for now.
He believed he had bought Ryan some time by stabilizing Vought and fooling Madelyn with his flawless acting.
He thought he could use this "full authority" to secretly protect his son and maybe even flip the script, turning Vought's own resources against their real enemies.
What he didn't know was that while he sat there planning how to fuck over Vought and shield Ryan…
An elite kill squad built specifically to handle both father and son had already boarded a black-ops flight headed for Russia.
___
12 advanced chapters- P@t: slept01