The smell of disinfectant, mixed with the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment, dragged Leon back from a deep unconsciousness.
He forced his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was the sickly white ceiling of the medical room.
His throat burned as if he’d swallowed a handful of broken glass, and every breath brought a tearing sensation from his lungs.
“Awake?
Don’t move around.
You inhaled a high concentration of acidic poison gas, plus some mild internal trauma.
If you weren’t so lucky, you’d already be lining up for the incinerator by now.”
Dr.
Sarah came over with a pair of dark circles under her eyes, checked the monitor at Leon’s bedside with practiced ease, then stuck a straw into a cup of warm water and held it to his lips.
Leon sucked down two greedy mouthfuls, and his parched throat finally got a little relief.
He turned his head, and only then noticed the small figure sitting on a high stool on the other side of the bed.
It was John.
The boy was still wearing the T-shirt with the big hole the acid had burned through the chest, his blond hair somewhat disheveled.
He wasn’t playing with his Rubik’s cube or listening to his Walkman like he usually did.
Instead, both hands gripped the edge of the bed for dear life, those deep blue eyes fixed on Leon without blinking, the whites laced with fine red veins.
Hearing Leon stir awake, John’s eyes lit up instantly, but he didn’t lunge forward.
He only reached out a careful finger and gently touched the back of Leon’s hand where the IV was hooked up.
“Leon, you didn’t die.” The boy’s voice was a little hoarse, carrying the relief of someone who’d survived a brush with death, and a trace of barely visible aftershock fear.
In John’s six years of understanding, “death” had only been an abstract concept, the punishment bad guys deserved in storybooks.
But when that monster sprayed its poison gas and Leon collapsed on the sofa coughing up blood, he had felt, for the first time, the real terror of the thing called “loss.”
“As if I’d die that easily…”
Leon pulled out a weak smile and turned his hand to grip John’s slightly cold little one.
“With our little champ here to protect me, even the Grim Reaper wouldn’t dare collect my soul.”
Off to the side, Dr.
Sarah rolled her eyes and gave a cold snort as she logged the data.
“Oh sure, little champ.
Do you have any idea what he put us through these last two days?
He sat guarding your bed without eating or drinking, and the second anyone came within six feet of you, his eyes started glowing red.
Even Mike, who just wanted to come change your catheter bag, nearly got sliced in half by a blast of heat vision.
The whole medical department’s been hugging the walls for two days straight!”
Leon froze for a moment, looking at John’s stubborn little face.
“Leon was sick, and they were too loud, and they’re too weak.
They can’t protect Leon.”
John answered without a hint of doubt, then his tone turned unusually firm.
“From now on, no one comes near you except me.”
Leon’s heart dropped.
This was bad.
Wasn’t the script going a little off the rails here?
He’d meant to raise the kid into a big-hearted, rule-abiding ray-of-sunshine Supe.
So how was it that after one assassination attempt, the boy’s protective instinct had maxed out overnight, trending toward yandere territory and full-blown control freak?
“John, listen.”
Leon pushed through the pain in his chest, his tone turning serious.
“The doctor is saving me.
The whole point of protecting your family is being able to tell who’s an enemy and who’s a friend.
If you treat everyone as a potential threat, then how are we any different from a wild animal locked in a cage?”
John frowned, seeming to work hard at digesting Leon’s words.
It took a good while before he gave a reluctant nod and dropped that hostile, defensive posture.
Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office a hundred floors above ground.
Stan Edgar was watching the silent surveillance feed coming in from the medical room on the big screen.
On the screen, the boy regarded as a god among men was obediently letting Leon hold his hand and lecture him.
“How’s the repair work on that underground apartment coming along?” Edgar asked, picking up his coffee cup without turning around.
Madelyn stood behind him and opened the folder in her hands.
“Fully cleaned out.
We’re relaying a higher-grade blast-proof layer and air filtration system now.
The remains of Subject No.
73 have also been disposed of.
PR put together an internal incident report pinning the blame on a hydraulics engineer who already left the company.”
“Good.” Edgar looked at Leon’s face on the screen, the corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied arc.
This “accident” he had orchestrated himself had cost him a high-grade test subject and one apartment, but the result it bought him left him thrilled beyond measure.
“Madelyn, do you see it?
This is the power of an emotional bond.”
Edgar turned around, his gaze deep.
“This weapon is too powerful, so powerful that no physical chain could ever restrain him.
We kept trying to control him with company rules, with fear, and that was all wrong.
Leon has given us the perfect answer.”
“You mean…”
“Leon is his fuse.”
Edgar walked to his desk and signed his name on a top-secret document.
“As long as Leon stays in our hands, as long as Leon stays loyal to the company, that boy will gladly serve as Vought’s guardian god.
And even if the day comes when the boy truly slips out of control, Leon is the only one who can make him stop.”
Madelyn nodded.
“Then I’ll go upgrade Leon’s security level right away.
We can’t let an accident like this happen again.”
“Don’t just upgrade his security.
Give him status and privileges too.”
Edgar handed the document to Madelyn.
“Promote Leon straight to senior supervisor, clearance second only to yours.
Tell Finance that all of Leon’s expenses are fully reimbursed by the company.
I want him to feel that Vought is his most solid backing.
As long as he can’t do without Vought, the boy will belong to Vought forever.”
A capitalist’s calculations always run sharper than anyone else’s.
Edgar didn’t just want a sharp knife.
He wanted the hand that held the knife bound tight to his war chariot.
A week later.
Leon’s body had more or less recovered.
Thanks to Vought’s medical technology, decades ahead of the rest of the world, not only had the toxins been cleared from his lungs, even the internal trauma had been repaired as good as new.
The combination lock on the door had been swapped for a higher-grade dual retinal-and-fingerprint authentication.
He pushed the door open, and the layout inside was even cozier and more luxurious than before.
Not only had the carpet been replaced with the finest handwoven Persian rug, there was even a brand-new Nintendo Entertainment System sitting in the living room.
“Whoa, looks like the big boss really spared no expense buttering us up this time.”
Leon whistled and walked to the fridge, finding it stuffed with all kinds of imported fruit and premium steaks.
John, meanwhile, walked straight to the sofa, reached out, and gently stroked the brand-new leather couch that had replaced the one he’d half melted before.
“Leon.” John spoke up suddenly, without turning around.
“What is it?” Leon came over with two cans of Coke.
“From now on, I won’t let anything wreck our home again.”
The boy’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight close to a vow.
“And I won’t suppress my power anymore.”
The hand holding out the Coke paused.
Leon walked over to John, crouched down, and looked straight into the boy’s eyes, which were slowly shedding their childish innocence.
“John, do you remember the ‘rules’ I told you about?”
“I remember.
But you said that when the rules can’t protect your family, protecting your family is the highest rule.”
John answered without the slightest hesitation, almost defiantly.
“That’s right.
I’m not taking those words back.”
Leon sighed.
He knew that day’s assassination attempt had completely changed John’s worldview, and the old rigid dogma of “don’t kill people” wasn’t going to fool the kid anymore.
He had to find a new outlet, and a new set of constraints, for this powerful force of destruction.
“But John, power is like the heat vision in your eyes.
If you keep it cranked to maximum all the time, you won’t just burn the bad guys, you’ll burn the innocent bystanders around you to ash, and even the people you want to protect along with them.”
Leon pressed the cold Coke against John’s cheek to cool him down a little.
“Real strength isn’t being ready to destroy everything anytime, anywhere.
It’s precision.
You have to be like a precise scalpel, knowing when to cut out the tumor and when to stitch up the wound.”
Leon stood up and pointed at the television.
“Now, we’re not just going to learn what’s right and wrong.
We’re going to learn how this world really works.
The world out there isn’t only Vought, and it isn’t only those street thugs who can do nothing but rob people.
There are hidden wizards who’ve passed down their craft for hundreds of years, there are the onmyoji over in Japan, and there are all sorts of tangled, complicated powers.”
Leon’s expression turned more serious than ever before.
“Starting tomorrow, your curriculum gets an upgrade.
I’m going to make you not only a hero with invincible power, but a king who can see through every plot and scheme.
You’re going to use your brain, together with your power, to build your own true order of justice.
Are you ready?”
John lifted his head, looked at Leon, and a small but dazzling flame kindled in those deep blue eyes.
He nodded hard, and the corner of his mouth curved into a confident arc that belonged to the future Homelander.
“I’m ready, Leon.”