Before the window for the first variable-interval reinforcement test was even selected, an internal notification from Human Resources arrived first.
Luke Chen sat at his desk.
On his screen was a standard cross-department transfer announcement, formatted in Vought Administration’s default layout and font, though a line of handwritten-style text had been added to the remarks section: *Directly signed by Madelyn’s office.* The announcement was brief.
*Vought Asian Market Strategic Officer Serena Shen is stationed at New York Headquarters effective today to assist in formulating overseas superhero IP licensing plans.
Office location: 41st Floor.
Reporting line: Directly to the Senior Vice President’s Office.* Luke closed the announcement and opened the internal HR file search.
Serena Shen’s basic resume occupied only half a screen.
Harvard Business School MBA—entered at twenty-one, graduated at twenty-three.
Three years at McKinsey’s New York office, holding the rank of Senior Project Manager upon departure—a time when colleagues hired in the same cohort were typically still stuck at Associate Manager.
When Vought’s Asian branch recruited her, they gave her a Director title; six months later, she was promoted to Strategic Officer, skipping two intermediate tiers.
Luke scrolled down to the second page of her resume.
At the very bottom of the education background section was a line of small grey text, an automated system note for public information sources: *Undergraduate degree information submitted by applicant; unverified by third-party certification.* One of the admission requirements for an HBS MBA was undergraduate degree verification.
If her undergraduate information was unverified, either the system’s data scraper had glitched, or someone had pulled strings during data entry.
Luke stored the detail in his memory—no screenshot, no highlight.
He closed the HR system, opened the notepad on the right side of his desktop, and typed a line under a blank entry: *SRT, 41st floor, observation period.* Then he locked the screen and slipped his phone into his pocket.
At 3:40 PM, he arrived early at the evaluation room.
He switched on the record player, set the needle down, and Chopin’s music began flowing from the very first note.
The desk lamp was on, the blanket draped over the armrest, and the book placed beside his knee.
At 4:01 PM, the door was pushed open.
Homelander was wearing a capeless black shirt today.
His hair was damp when he walked in, a lock clinging to his forehead, indicating he had just showered.
He sat down on the sofa, resting his back against the cushion and clasping his hands on his knees.
He scanned the room’s setup, his eyes spending no more than half a second on any single item.
Inspection complete.
Everything was in its proper place.
“You came early today.” Luke turned a page of the book.
“Not much to do.” “You stayed in your office for four hours this morning without stepping out once.” Luke’s fingers didn’t pause at the edge of the page.
Homelander’s super hearing range and accuracy were even higher than he had previously estimated.
Separated by dozens of reinforced concrete and steel floors between the 72nd floor and his office, Homelander could still tell whether he had left his seat.
“Handled some documents.” “What documents?” “Personnel transfer notices.” Homelander’s fingers tightened slightly on his knees, then relaxed.
“I heard a new Asian woman arrived.” Luke closed the book and set it beside his knee.
“How do you know?” “Ashley was talking on the phone with someone—loud enough for the whole floor to hear.” Homelander tilted his head, his blue eyes fixed on Luke, the warm light of the desk lamp compressed into two tiny glints in his irises.
“She wants to use my image for some overseas licensing?” “An IP export plan targeting the Asian market.” “My face printed on Japanese lunchboxes?” “Probably more than lunchboxes.” The left corner of Homelander’s mouth twitched upward slightly.
“Have you met her?” “Not yet.” “But you looked her up.” Luke rested his fingers on the book spine without moving.
“I look up every new face entering this building.” “Including me?” “You’re not a new face.” Homelander stared at him for three seconds, then straightened his tilted head.
“So what kind of person is she?” “Harvard MBA, ex-McKinsey, rose quickly in Vought’s Asian branch.” “How fast?” “Jumped two ranks in six months.” Homelander raised an eyebrow.
“Then she’s either very capable or has someone backing her.” Luke didn’t offer a comment.
Homelander waited two seconds.
Receiving no response, he leaned his head back against the sofa cushion.
“Your silence means agreement.” “My silence means I’m not sure yet.” “When will you be sure?” “After I’ve made contact.” Homelander shifted his gaze down from the ceiling, landing on Luke’s profile.
“When do you plan to contact her?” “When work requires it.” “When work requires it,” Homelander repeated the words, his tone devoid of mockery, but each syllable stretched a beat longer than normal.
Luke opened the book to a new page.
“You care about this.” “I don’t care.” “You asked four questions.” Homelander closed his mouth for a moment.
Only Chopin’s melody remained in the room, lingering on a descending passage as the notes sank lower.
“I just want to know who’s around you.” “Now you know.” “If she comes to see you in the future, I want to know that too.” Luke paused for a beat on the page’s edge, then continued turning it.
“Alright.” Upon hearing that word, the line of Homelander’s shoulders relaxed, his back sinking a bit deeper into the sofa.
He lifted his right hand from his knee and placed it on the blanket’s edge, his thumb tracing a short line along the weave of the fabric.
“Did you pat my shoulder today?” “No.” “Why not?” “It wasn’t time yet today.” Homelander’s finger stopped on the blanket.
He looked at Luke, a shallow layer of something floating in his eyes—not anger, not disappointment, but a floating suspense, waiting to be caught without knowing when he would be held.
Luke didn’t catch it.
“That’s all for today.
See you next time.
I’ll be waiting here.” Homelander stood up, walked to the doorway, and rested his hand on the doorframe.
“That Asian woman—if there’s anything wrong with her, tell me first.” “You’ll know before anyone else.” The door closed.
Luke leaned against the wall and set the book down.
He pulled the slip of white paper from the hidden compartment in his pocket and wrote two lines at the bottom: *Subject has incorporated the evaluator’s social dynamics into his monitoring scope, displaying immediate information-seeking behavior regarding new interpersonal variables.* *Possessiveness extending from physical space to social relationships.* He added a note in parentheses on the second line: *(Serena Shen’s arrival will accelerate this process; variables need to be controlled.)* He folded the paper and slipped it back into the hidden compartment.
His phone screen lit up.
The line in his notepad was still there: *SRT, 41st floor, observation period.* He stared at the words for three seconds, appending a timestamp after “observation period”: *After Wednesday’s executive meeting.*