It was a meaningless life.
''The nights still young, we have plenty of time to play after closing.'' The bartender said to one of the bouncers to his right, before turning to face me. ''Hey chubby, wanna join us?'' I sighed, too tired from the long work hours to rebuke the childish co-worker. If I attacked him carelessly, I could kill him even from just a light punch so instead I ignore the comment.
''Where are you going?'' I asked if only to answer my curiosity and put an end the conversation quicker. The other bouncer waved his brows in a suggestive motion. ''The Supe club uptown, an acquaintance of mine said he can sneak us inside to the v.i.p. section, you in dough-boy? I'm sure some freak in there will like you and I could use a duff to draw away the undesirables."
'Real creative.' I thought dully, my (e/c) eyes lowering to focus on finding my car keys. ''I don't got the time for that, I have to head to my other job.'' I said, collecting my things to leave. ''I'll see you Monday. Have the weekend you deserve.''
Back then, I had no idea...
''A chuilein!'' My mother said, the Gaelic language leaving her tongue as easy as breathing. ''My son is amazing! You have to give me lots of grandchildren one day okay?! A man like you would make a great dad!"
That my mother was a liar.
''Darling, eat lots so you can become big and strong, you dont know when you'll need the strength.'' She pushed forward her food tray, the hospital sheets crinkling around her frail form in the process. The action puts a frown on my face and I push it back onto her lap. She was always looking after me even after I'd grown up. ''Mom,'' I repeated softly, lowering myself to sit by her bed and holding her hands under my own. ''They have the treatment you need. It's... It's just that we don't...''
''How much is the treatment?'' I bowed my head, eyes squeezing shut as I told her the price. ''Oh, my sweet boy,'' She had replied then, her voice tight with restrained emotion. ''Forget it, son. I'll just rest a wee while and I'll be back on my feet in no time at all.''
My mother wanted to give me everything even when she had nothing left to give. If only I had a job to earn a lot of money all at once...
"Today we have an exclusive interview with the number one superhero, America's chosen one, the Homelander!'' The TV which had previously been background noise cataches my attention.
''Rumour has it your salary at Vought is quite high, Mr Homelander.'' The hero stills, the smile remaining on his face like hes trying to figure out his next response. Homelander suddenly snorts, looking abashed as the reporter continues. ''I mean the view itself from the tower must be wonderful-"
Homelander laughs, looking jovial and incredibly humble as articulates with his gloved hands. ''Please, you're embarrassing me. I'm always grateful to Vought, but my purpose and goal has and always will be to save my fellow Americans.''
''Money doesn't buy you happiness but,'' He flashes a bright smile at the camera ''seeing the people safe does.''
I would feel less helpless about my mothers condition.
''My name is Pendragon. I'm 300 pounds and I'm 6'2." I spoke to the camera in my most commanding voice, if I was going to do this, I would do it right. The people needed someone strong, dependable and selfless. A natural born leader who others will strive to mimic and follow without question. Someone like the Homelander!
''Wonderful, could you turn around for us please?'' I turn, a hand on the hilt of the sword I had crafted with my very own hands. I had paid great attention to the accuracy of my viking armour and the result was a durable and meticulously crafted helmet and body armour set. I was very proud of it all.
''All right, show us what you've got.'' The casting director tells me after quickly adjusting the camera. I pause at that, my hands stilling in my pockets. ''You should stand back,'' ''sorry?'' ''You should stand further back, I don't want to burn you.''
The casting director nods in understanding, before picking the camera up and pulling to the back of the room. I scrutinise the floor beneath me before looking back to the cameraman. ''is this floor flammable?'' ''No, this room is built specially to withstand even Homelander's lasers!"
I accept the answer and begin to change. It happens slowly at first, until suddenly a set of large wings burst from my back and the trasnformation rapidly turns me into a humanoid dragon hybrid. My teeth extend into pointed canines, my blunt nails sharpening into talons as scales scatter across my bodies skin and a heavy tail lands by my feet.
I wanted to save my mother and thats why I applied.
''The script is here! Ah, it might just be my best work yet, Pendragon you're up!"
My gut twists anxiously, all the lights and slight sounds my enhanced ears could pick up on set becoming overwhelming. But I needed to push through, the money was good and mom was just starting to get better from the treatment.
"I am a man of the people." I utter softly like I'm trying to soothe a frightened child. "I am devoted to freeing mankind from the tyranny of heros." I sweep back my dark cloak with my sharp talons, revealing I held no weapon. Vought took them from me long ago, saying I would appear more 'savage' like when fighting without them.
"I alone can keep them in line." I raise my voice, just like in the script, becoming more menacing and demanding. "I alone can keep this country safe...if you chose to bow down and follow me.''
I wanted to be a Hero.
My wings buckle under the weight of the crumbling building, my spine creaking as Homelander pushes down on the cement crushing me. My teeth crack and splinter as frustrated tears fall from my eyes. I let out a frustrated roar as my legs give out and I fall before collapsing.
Only after many years had I realised it.
''Pendragon is getting old, he couldnt even transform after the last bout with Homelander. We need a new big bad, someone younger, maybe someone more foreign?"
The fact that I was artifical. Not one part of my life hadn't been orchastrated. My birth? I was dying and my mother took the only option to keep me alive, Compound V. My mother? Died to an illness they put inside her. My wife? Killed when a building was dropped on top of us both by Homelander. My son? missing and assumed dead. All this to push me over the edge and become a villain of the month just to make homelander look better.
''I am sick and fucking tired of fighting a bloated lizard each week!'' The lasers hurt, the scales only deflecting them to a certain extent. ''You think you're somehow better than me? You can't even stand, you're just pathetic to look at!"
Being a hero was an occupational hazard, being a villain was a deathwish. But if there was one last thing I could do with my life...
Fist after bloody fist, I stagger back after each assault but almost freeze as I'm thrown back into a building. I heard something-
The pummel of fists rain back down on me and in an exchange of ferocious swipes, but I try to focus on the sound. I come to realise it's the sound of a crying child. Homelander hadn't heard them yet, too focused on killing me than anything else. But if he did, he'd surely kill them to hide his true colours from getting out.
My battered wings flick out and I shoot into the sky as fast as I can, as far away from the child as I can. Higher and higher, I beat my wings to the rhythm of my frantic heart. I only have a few seconds, I know it.
If I could do it again...
Hot red beams of intense light slice through my vulnerable stomach and then my spine. I let out a strangled cry as I begin to plummet hundred of feet along with my severed lower half.
I'd never give that animal the satifaction.
It doesn't end there and I feel Homelanders boot land on what's left of my upper back as his hands grip the base of my wings and squeeze. Homelander tugs and they snap off with a bloody spray of sinew and bone.
I'd take eveything from him. His reputation, his power and then his life. I'd destroy Vought and every single corrupt piece of shit calling themselves a saviour of the people. I'd show the world what a real hero is.
I can't move. I cannot even say goodbye because there's no one left to say goodbye too. The moment, and a moment was all it took, passes. Y/n the Pendragon was dead.
At least for now.