[Homelander's POV]
The night is a blissful time of rest and dreams.
I looked down at my feet right now while hovering above the ground.
I'm in Tell-Rifaat City right now, and there is much to see.
A building filled with people who were currently packaging drugs and soldiers sneaking up on the structure to start a raid.
This wouldn't have personally concerned me if not for the fact that this was where the V compound was being sent.
After gently landing down right in front of the operatives, I smiled at them and saw them point their guns at me.
My hands went up, showing them that I posed no threat.
Predictably, the operatives relaxed when they saw my bright costume with the awkward cape styled like the American flag.
However, they did not lower their guns.
"Good evening, guys."
I waved my hand in greeting, behaving as friendly as possible.
"I'll handle this myself if you don't mind. You can make sure no one gets away."
"Yes, sir."
The apparent leader of their squad nodded.
It seemed he had already been informed that the Seven were now aligned with the U.S. Army.
"Great. I'll be quick."
After flying up and landing gently on the roof, I took a deep breath and stood by the door.
Strangely, it was difficult to decide how to deal with the criminals.
On the one hand, they do bad things like sell drugs, kill people, and so on. On the other hand, no one intends to take them alive, and they are all going to die in the end.
However, I am not a vengeful person who decides who should die... but I won't interfere with this.
After all, first impressions are important, and I wouldn't want to be known as a maniac among the soldiers.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and confidently walked inside.
A man smoking by the staircase immediately tossed away his cigarette and stared at me in shock.
It took him a few seconds to recover and start retreating, but it was already too late.
A sharp strike to his neck knocked him out for at least ten minutes.
I continued down the stairs calmly, watching the chaos below as the sound of the falling body to the ground shocked everyone.
It was like thunder on a clear day after being very quiet before I got there.
It didn't surprise me at all that dozens of men grabbed their rifles and began shooting at such a noticeable and convenient target.
"You guys just never learn, do you?"
I smiled, trying to shout over the gunfire but not making too much effort. I had no desire to rupture their eardrums.
I shot out heat vision, looking distinctly ominous from the outside while bullets hitting my body merely flattened out, falling to the ground.
The Vought scientists referred to this effect as a bio-field, and every physically endowed super had this field, differing only in strength.
They didn't understand the nature of this phenomenon, but one constant is that supers are as resistant as they are physically strong.
There was no way that a modern weapon could hurt me, who was the strongest super in history.
I wouldn't even feel an atomic bomb hitting my body, and it would just itch.
Thus, bullets didn't even register on my skin, causing boredom.
Meanwhile, the terrorists were experiencing real terror, staring at the two bright red dots where my eyes should be.
As I yawned and a bullet landed in my mouth, I spat it out in anger and decided to end this fast.
I walked up to them with confidence and took their guns away.
Then, I subdued them using the same method as with the first.
Unfortunately, these three were not the only ones who needed to be… dealt with.
Eventually, I stood in the middle of the circle of unconscious men and women who had been hired in packaging.
I carefully looked around the room, x-raying every area, to find a vial of blue liquid inside one of the boxes.
Bingo.
"Captain, I found this."
I said, handing the drug to the soldier as I stepped outside.
"And yes, there are about thirty people inside who are unconscious. Will you take care of them? I'm off."
After handing the drug directly into his hands, I smiled at them and flew up into the sky, disappearing from view.
You know the saying: "If you can't beat them, join them."
That's probably why I was sitting at a conference table a few hours later with Robert Singer the U.S. Secretary of Defense.
I took on some of her responsibilities since I had sent Madelyn on vacation for a few days.
The bearded old man in horn-rimmed glasses and a distinguished suit, looking frail, was quite surprised to see me but didn't show it.
"And where is Miss Stillwell?"
"I'm afraid she has urgent matters. I'll be standing in for her for now."
"A superhero?"
"That's right, Minister."
I replied confidently, meeting the old man's scrutinizing gaze.
"Consider yourself speaking with Miss Stillwell's trusted representative."
"Then let's get straight to the point."
Robert nodded, taking the V drug in his hand.
"The Islamic State isn't exactly a hub of scientific thought. But they made a copy of your drug?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"How did they obtain the formula?"
"We would like to know that ourselves."
"Or do you have any suspicions, Homelander? Perhaps it was a tourist? Or Miss Stillwell..."
"Don't test my patience, Robert."
I responded harshly, narrowing my eyes as I noticed his concern.
"It's not just you who dislikes what's happening. If it were up to me, everything would remain as it was."
"Then why did you get the drug? Why participate in the operation if you didn't want to? You volunteered yourself."
"Do you know why people want to become heroes, Mr. Singer?"
"Enlighten me."
He leaned back in his chair.
"A person with a strong will and decisiveness was considered a hero back then as someone who deserved it. That's what made them heroes."
I smiled when I saw his interest in a familiar topic.
"I always admired such stories, those who took everything into their own hands. But their time has passed, and now heroes are chosen by a corporation, the only one of its kind."
"What's your point?"
"The point is that no one but superheroes can stand against Naqib and other superhumans. No automatic weapon, grenade, rocket, or other fluff can harm them. The era of old heroes is over, Minister."
I leaned closer, looking him straight in the eyes.
"And it no longer matters how the drug got into the terrorists' hands. What matters is that you won't be able to protect this country without Vought and its heroes."
I carefully scanned Robert's face, seeing a shadow of emotions as clear to me as grimaces of pain.
He had no choice, and he knew it well.
Tonight, I would have to participate in another event regarding the Seven's integration into the military.
Unfortunately, I had no choice either.
...
[3rd POV]
Annie was watching with boredom as the very important military personnel celebrated the start of the army's collaboration with Vought Corporation.
It was obvious that people were lying behind their smiles. A lot of guys kept coming up to her and trying to get her attention and charm her.
Each word spoken to her was full of envy and desire.
However, these emotions were directed not at Annie January but at Starlight—the heroine who radiates bright light and nothing more.
"What's wrong? Did someone offend you among these old men?"
John's blue eyes watched her intently, searching for traces of something only he knew about.
"No, John, everything is just perfect."
She smiled sincerely, looking at the one person among all those gathered who saw her as just Annie.
"There's something truly beautiful in this hypocritical society that I see right before me. How about you?"
"Are you fishing for a compliment?"
Annie replied, trying not to look into those captivating eyes.
"I don't deny it."
"Madelyn looks pretty good today. Like she's gotten younger."
She indicated with her gaze toward the woman, watching his reaction with interest.
"You really cut me without a knife, Starlight. That really hurt."
Homelander replied with amusement and clutching his heart.
Their eyes met Stillwell's at that moment, and they looked at least strange.
Suddenly, the soft piano music was interrupted and caught his attention.
He looked at the musical instrument with anticipation and directed her gaze there as well.
Starlight turned around in intrigue when seeing Black Noir sitting at the piano who began playing it actively.
He quickly picked up the tempo, contrasting with the slow background music that had been playing before.
"He's playing the piano!"
Annie almost cried out, looking at John.
"Looks like he's in the mood today."
Annie no longer heard John as she focused on the music, which radiated joy, a thirst for life, and a sunny temperament.
It played so quickly that there were times when it was hard to tell what was playing.
Then it slowed down as if it wanted to show off its beauty to the few people who were listening.
"That was beautiful."
Annie exhaled, even becoming emotional due to the influence of such a short but beautiful piece of music played from the heart.
"That's Chopin, specifically the Minute Waltz."
John said, drawing her attention.
"Unfortunately, it quickly becomes bland in my opinion."
"How can it become bland? And you know classical music?"
She was surprised.
"No, not at all. Noir plays it whenever he wants to lighten the mood a bit."
John explained.
"It's hard not to know what your colleague, who you've been working with for twenty years, plays. That answers both of your questions."
"I see."
She nudged him with her elbow, making him flinch.
"How far I've fallen, getting nudges even from my subordinates."
John snorted, pretending to hold his "injured" spot, but then he stopped playing as if he had heard a sharp sound.
He glanced across at Madelyn's back who was standing close to the table.
It was also easy to determine who made the noise because of the champagne drops on the table.
"What happened?"
Annie asked worriedly, noticing his strange behavior.
"Nothing. Just… I need to step away for a moment."
He answered, turning his attention to her.
"I'll be quick."'
"Don't rush. There are plenty of men here, and I'll be just fine until you return."
Annie smirked, giving a meaningful look around the hall.
"Don't test me, Annie January. I might just get jealous."
John smirked back, heading towards Stillwell.
He nodded to Maeve as he went by who was surrounded by men as usual and all of them fawning over her.
He returned his gaze to Stillwell's back, immediately seeing through her.
It was clear that she was troubled considering the recent conversation with Stan Edgar.
They had spent a few minutes at this event, and it was evident that there was something significant at the root of her anxiety.
...
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