The Boys stepped into the room together, the heavy door shutting behind them.
Inside the cage, Translucent looked between them, trying to keep the same smug expression he’d had earlier.
"What happened?" he asked. "You dumb fucks finally realize you can’t do shit to me?"
Butcher grinned.
"Keep runnin’ your mouth while you can, invisible cunt," he said. "Won’t have much use for it soon."
Frenchie rolled the machine forward beside the cage, carefully setting it down while checking the valves one last time.
Translucent’s eyes narrowed immediately.
"The fuck is that?"
Butcher stepped aside slightly, letting him see it properly.
"That," he said, almost cheerfully, "is your fuckin’ death machine."
Frenchie crouched beside it, adjusting the setup.
"Simple chemistry," he said calmly. "It creates carbon monoxide. Colorless, odorless... and very, very deadly."
Translucent’s expression shifted.
Frenchie looked up at him through the bars.
"You see, your skin is special," he said. "The rest of you? Not so much. You still breathe. Your organs still need oxygen."
The confidence vanished from Translucent’s face almost instantly.
He became visible without even seeming to realize he’d dropped the camouflage, panic overriding instinct as he looked at the machine.
"No—"
Butcher watched him carefully, smile widening.
"There he is," he muttered. "Knew you had a real face under all that smug bollocks."
"Please," Translucent said quickly, backing against the cage. "Please, don’t do this—"
Butcher actually laughed at that.
"Now this," he said, looking at the others, "this is my favourite part."
He stepped closer to the cage.
"See, these cunts spend all day flyin’ about actin’ like gods." His voice hardened. "Then the second it’s their life on the line?"
Translucent’s breathing was already turning uneven, panic breaking through whatever confidence he had left.
"They beg same as everyone else," Butcher said.
"Please," Translucent said quickly, words stumbling over each other now. "Look, you people want money? I have money. A lot of it."
Nobody answered.
His eyes darted between them desperately before landing on Hughie.
"Didn’t that guy want to know about A-Train?" he asked fast. "About what he was doing?"
That got their attention.
"I know something," Translucent continued immediately. "He was visiting Popclaw. He thought nobody knew, but I know he was seeing her."
Hughie stiffened slightly at the name.
"Please..." Translucent said again, voice cracking this time. "Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything."
Frenchie and Butcher exchanged a glance. At least that was useful.
Mark crouched down near the cage, resting his arms against his knees while looking directly at him.
"The problem, you stupid fuck," he said calmly, "is that you already saw our faces. Do you honestly think anyone here is dumb enough to let you walk out after that?"
Butcher looked toward Hughie for a second.
"There is one," he muttered.
"I heard that," Hughie replied weakly.
Butcher ignored him and looked back at Translucent.
"Listen carefully, mate," he said. "Soon as you get out, you run straight back to your laser-eyed psycho mate and suddenly we’ve got Homelander tearin’ our bollocks off."
Translucent shook his head desperately. "No, no, I swear—"
"So you’ve got to go," Butcher finished, tone almost casual. "But chin up, eh? Maybe you’re movin’ on to a better place."
He smirked slightly.
"Just make peace with the Lord before you clock out."
Mark tilted his head slightly. "Assuming the Lord even wants someone like you up there."
Translucent’s face twisted instantly.
"Fuck you!"
He spat toward Mark.
Mark moved his head slightly to the side, the spit missing him completely.
Then Frenchie opened the valve.
A low hiss filled the room as the gas started flowing through the pipes and into the sealed cage chamber.
Almost immediately, Translucent backed away, panic fully setting in now as he realized they were actually doing it.
"No—no, wait—!"
Butcher grabbed the door first and stepped out calmly while Frenchie followed behind him, shutting off the inner lock before pulling the heavy door closed.
The sound changed the moment it sealed.
Muted.
Then the banging started.
Hard.
The cage rattled violently from the other side as Translucent slammed against it again and again while the gas continued filling the room.
"LET ME OUT!"
Another crash followed, metal screeching against concrete.
Hughie stood frozen outside the door, hearing every hit.
Inside, the shouting started turning rougher, breathing breaking apart between words as the carbon monoxide slowly filled the chamber.
After some time, Mark and Frenchie put on breathing masks and went back into the room.
The air still felt heavy inside.
Frenchie moved first, shutting off the power running through the cage while Mark stepped closer and pulled the door open carefully.
The invisible body was lying against the side of the cage without movement.
Mark kicked it once.
No response.
"...Well," he muttered behind the mask. "That’s usually a good sign."
Frenchie crouched down, reaching carefully toward where the body should’ve been. Finding the pulse on an invisible person turned out to be more awkward than expected, his hand brushing against things that definitely were not the wrist before he finally found the right spot.
Then he checked properly.
Nothing.
Frenchie stayed there for another second just to be sure before standing back up.
The two of them stepped out of the room and pulled their masks off.
Frenchie looked at Butcher and Hughie.
"Finished," he said.
***
A/N: Advanced Chapters are available on Patreon.
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