The crowd had thickened by the time I reached the scene. Angry voices bounced off the towering buildings around us, creating a dissonant symphony of frustration and desperation. The protesters' signs were crudely made, but their messages were sharp, scrawled in large letters that screamed at the world: *"Down with Vought!"*, *"Heroes, not gods!"*, and the most striking of them all, *"Homelander is a killer!"*
I hovered at the edge of the gathering, keeping my distance while I studied the crowd. They were angry, sure, but there was something else mixed in with their fury—a spark of rebellion, of hope. These weren't just people venting their frustrations; they were people looking for a change. And I could use that. Hell, I needed to use that if I was going to survive in this twisted world.
The leader of the group stood on a makeshift stage—a stack of wooden pallets thrown together in haste. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a rough edge to his voice that hinted at a life lived on the fringe. His arms waved as he shouted into a megaphone, his words laced with passion.
"We've been lied to for too long!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the din. "Vought tells us that The Seven are our saviors, that they're protecting us from danger, but what do they really do? They destroy! They kill! And who pays the price for their mistakes? We do!"
A chorus of agreement rose from the crowd, fists pumping in the air. I shifted on my feet, feeling the hum of power beneath my skin. It was subtle, like an engine idling in the background, but I could tell it was there, waiting for me to tap into it. Thor's powers… they made me feel like I could crush the entire world if I wanted to. But standing here, among these ordinary people, I knew I couldn't rely on brute force alone. Not yet.
If I was going to take down Homelander, I needed allies. And this group? They could be the first step in building something bigger.
I pushed my way through the crowd, careful to avoid drawing too much attention. As I got closer to the front, I could see the speaker more clearly. His face was flushed, veins standing out on his neck as he spoke. Sweat dripped down his brow, but he didn't seem to notice. The man was consumed by his message, by the fire of his own words.
"They don't care about us," he continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "We're just collateral damage to them! Another statistic for their PR teams to spin! Homelander, A-Train, Black Noir… they're not heroes. They're tyrants in capes, and we're the ones left to pick up the pieces!"
Another roar of approval surged through the crowd. I could feel the energy around me, thick and electric. These people were ready for a revolution, even if they didn't know it yet. All they needed was a leader—or maybe a spark to ignite the fire.
The man on the stage looked around, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a general inspecting his troops. "But we don't have to take this anymore," he said, lowering his voice just enough to make the crowd lean in. "We can fight back. We can show Vought that we won't be silenced!"
The crowd erupted again, their cheers blending into a chaotic wave of noise. But I wasn't listening to the words anymore. My focus was on the man himself—the way his eyes gleamed with something more than just anger. Ambition, maybe. Or desperation. He was dangerous, that much was clear. But he could also be useful.
I stepped forward, close enough now to catch his eye. He glanced at me for a moment, his brow furrowing in curiosity, but then his attention shifted back to the crowd. He wasn't ready to notice me yet. Not the way I needed him to.
The protests continued, the group growing more fervent by the second. But as I scanned the crowd, something else caught my attention. A flicker of movement on the rooftop across the street. My eyes narrowed, and I spotted the silhouette of a figure crouched low, watching the scene unfold below.
Whoever it was, they weren't just a bystander. The way they moved—silent, deliberate—was all wrong. I wasn't sure if they were with Vought or someone else, but it didn't matter. My instincts screamed that this person was trouble.
I slipped away from the front of the crowd, moving toward the alley between the buildings. The power inside me thrummed, eager, almost like it had a mind of its own. I didn't need Mjolnir to take care of this. Not yet.
Once I was out of sight, I crouched low and focused, willing the power to the surface. It wasn't the explosive surge I had felt when I first got Thor's powers, but it was there—a quiet, steady pulse that I could control. Lightning crackled faintly in the air around me as I gathered it into my hands, feeling the raw energy at my fingertips.
I leaped.
The movement was effortless, my body soaring through the air with the grace of a god. I landed on the rooftop in a crouch, barely making a sound. The figure turned at the last second, but it was too late. I was already on them.
Grabbing them by the collar, I yanked them backward, slamming them against the wall. A gasp escaped their lips, and for the first time, I got a good look at my opponent. She was young—mid-twenties maybe—with short, spiky hair and sharp eyes that glinted with a mix of fear and defiance.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.
The girl glared at me, her lip curling. "None of your business."
I tightened my grip, feeling the power pulse through my veins. "Wrong answer."
For a moment, it looked like she was going to spit in my face, but then something changed. Her eyes darted past me, toward the crowd below, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.
"Alright, alright," she muttered, raising her hands in surrender. "I'm not with Vought, if that's what you're thinking."
"Then who are you with?" I pressed, still not letting go.
She hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "Let me go, and I'll tell you."
I considered it for a second, then slowly released her. She stumbled slightly, rubbing her neck where my grip had been, but she didn't try to run. That was a good sign, at least.
"My name's Valerie," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've been keeping an eye on this group for a while now. They're not the only ones who are fed up with Vought, you know. There's a whole network of people out there, waiting for the right moment to strike."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you're part of this... network?"
Valerie shrugged. "You could say that. We're not organized—yet—but we've got eyes everywhere. People are tired of being afraid. Tired of the lies."
I glanced back at the crowd below. "So what's your angle? Why were you up here, watching them?"
She gave me a look like I was missing something obvious. "You think Vought's just going to let a protest like this happen without keeping tabs on it? Someone's gotta make sure these people don't get themselves killed."
I stared at her for a moment, weighing my options. If what she said was true, then maybe this "network" could be useful. But trusting her blindly wasn't an option.
"You don't strike me as the altruistic type," I said, narrowing my eyes. "What's in it for you?"
Valerie smirked. "Let's just say I've got my own reasons for wanting Vought to go down. But I'm not stupid. If you want to survive in this world, you have to be smart. And you"—she gestured to me—"don't look like someone who's been around long enough to know the ropes."
She wasn't wrong about that. I was new here, and even though I had Thor's powers, I couldn't afford to underestimate this world. I needed information, and I needed it fast.
"Alright," I said, crossing my arms. "You help me, and I'll help you. Deal?"
Valerie eyed me for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."
---
The next few hours passed in a blur of movement. Valerie led me through the city, slipping between alleyways and avoiding the main streets. She knew her way around the city like the back of her hand, and I had to admit, I was impressed.
As we moved, she filled me in on the details. There were small pockets of resistance all over the city, people who had grown disillusioned with The Seven and Vought's stranglehold on society. They weren't organized, not yet, but they were waiting for something—or someone—to unite them.
And that's where I came in.
"If you really want to take down Homelander," Valerie said as we stopped in the shadow of a tall building, "you're going to need more than just brute strength. You need allies. You need people who can get you close to him, who know the ins and outs of Vought."
I frowned. "And you think this network of yours can help."
Valerie gave me a calculating look, weighing her words before speaking. "It's not just about the network," she said. "It's about knowing when to strike. Homelander's practically untouchable right now, but that doesn't mean he's invincible. He's got weaknesses, vulnerabilities."
I scoffed. "You don't think I know that? The guy's a walking PR machine, sure, but no one's that perfect."
"Exactly." Valerie's lips curled into a sly grin. "There's something big going down soon, something that could make Homelander vulnerable. Vought's been planning a new media stunt, trying to expand The Seven into international markets. They're desperate to keep the spotlight on their 'heroes' while covering up any scandals."
I crossed my arms, my mind racing. "And you think this is our opening?"
"I know it is," she replied. "There's a huge gala happening next week. Vought's top executives, their investors, even The Seven are going to be there. And more importantly, so are the international press. If someone were to make a move, expose something they couldn't cover up… it could damage Vought in a way that they wouldn't recover from."
"Expose what, exactly?" I asked. "We can't just show up and throw accusations around. We need something concrete, something the media can't ignore."
Valerie glanced over her shoulder, checking our surroundings before lowering her voice. "There's a leak inside Vought. Someone high up. I don't know who they are yet, but they've been feeding intel to us for months. Corruption, cover-ups, illegal experiments… everything Vought tries to bury. This leak is supposed to send something big before the gala—something that could blow the whole thing wide open."
A surge of adrenaline rushed through me. If we could get our hands on that information, it could be the game-changer I needed. It wouldn't just be about bringing down Homelander; it would be about dismantling Vought from the inside out.
But it also meant stepping into dangerous territory. Vought had eyes everywhere, and if we made one wrong move, we'd be dead before we even got close to the gala.
"Alright," I said, my mind made up. "I'm in. What's the plan?"
Valerie smirked, clearly pleased that I was on board. "First, we're going to need to find the source of the leak. I've got a few leads, but we'll have to move fast. Vought's tightening security every day, and if they suspect someone's snooping around, they'll shut us down before we even get a whiff of that intel."
I nodded. "Where do we start?"
"There's a guy—works in Vought's PR department. He's low-level, but he's got access to all kinds of internal memos and communications. I've been keeping tabs on him for a while. His name's Matt Crane. If anyone's going to know where the leak is coming from, it's him."
I clenched my fists, the faint crackle of electricity running through my fingers. "Let's pay Matt a visit then."
---
The next evening, Valerie and I stood outside a sleek, glass-walled building nestled in the heart of New York's financial district. It was after hours, but the place was still buzzing with activity. Vought's corporate offices were always busy—PR reps, marketing teams, and executives scrambling to keep the superhero narrative intact 24/7.
Valerie was calm and collected, but I could feel the tension rolling off her in waves. She glanced at me, her voice barely above a whisper. "This won't be easy. Security's tight, and the last thing we want is to attract attention. We need to get Crane alone, away from prying eyes."
"Shouldn't be too hard," I said. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Valerie raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. Instead, she led the way, slipping through the side entrance with practiced ease. The security guard barely glanced up from his desk as we passed by, too engrossed in his phone to notice us.
Inside, the building was a maze of polished hallways and modern offices. We moved quickly, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the occasional late-night worker. Valerie had done her homework—she knew the layout, the shifts, the blind spots in security. It was impressive, but it also made me wonder how deep her connections ran.
We reached the PR department without any trouble. The lights were dimmed, and most of the desks were empty, save for a few late-night workers tapping away at their computers. Valerie pointed to a glass-walled office in the far corner of the room.
"That's Crane," she whispered. "He's still here, which is good. We don't want to have to track him down outside of work. Too many variables."
I nodded, my pulse quickening. "What's the plan?"
Valerie pulled a phone from her pocket and tapped a few buttons. "I'm going to create a little distraction. Nothing major, just enough to get the others out of the way so we can have a private conversation with Crane."
I watched as she hacked into the building's system, causing a small alarm to go off in a different part of the office. It wasn't enough to trigger a full evacuation, but it was enough to get the attention of the employees. One by one, they stood from their desks, muttering to each other as they filed out to investigate the disturbance.
Crane, however, remained seated, oblivious to the alarm as he continued typing away at his computer.
"Now," Valerie whispered.
We moved quickly, slipping into Crane's office and closing the door behind us. He barely registered our presence at first, too focused on his work. But when he finally looked up, his eyes went wide with shock.
"Who—what the hell?" he stammered, scrambling to his feet. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"
I stepped forward, my expression calm but firm. "We're here to talk, Matt. You're going to want to sit down for this."
Crane's eyes darted between us, fear flashing across his face. "I—I don't know who you think I am, but—"
"Save it," Valerie interrupted, stepping up beside me. "We know who you are, and we know you've been in contact with the leak inside Vought. We just need to know where to find them."
Crane swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he backed away from us. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."
I felt the power inside me stir, crackling beneath my skin. I didn't want to hurt him, but I also didn't have time for games. "Don't lie, Crane. You've been passing information for weeks. You're going to tell us who the leak is, or things are going to get... uncomfortable."
Crane's face paled. He looked like he was about to bolt for the door, but he knew there was no escape. Not with us standing in his way. He let out a shaky breath, sinking back into his chair.
"I—I don't know their name," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I swear. They only contact me through encrypted messages. They send me files, and I pass them along. That's all."
"Where are these files?" Valerie asked, her tone sharp.
Crane hesitated, then reluctantly reached for his computer. His hands trembled as he navigated through a series of folders, finally pulling up a hidden directory. "These are the most recent ones," he said, his voice shaky. "They—they were sent two days ago."
Valerie leaned over, scanning the files. Her eyes widened slightly as she read through the contents. "This is it," she muttered under her breath. "Proof of illegal human experimentation. Vought's been using people as test subjects for new Compound V formulas."
My jaw clenched. It was worse than I thought. If this got out, it wouldn't just bring down Vought's PR machine—it would expose the entire corrupt system they had built around The Seven.
But we weren't out of the woods yet. Crane wasn't the only link in the chain. We still needed to find the leak—and fast.
"Is there any way to trace the messages back to their source?" I asked.
Crane shook his head. "I've tried. The encryption's too strong. Whoever this leak is, they know what they're doing."
Valerie cursed under her breath. "We'll have to find another way. But for now, this will have to do."
I nodded, my mind racing. The gala was only a week away, and we needed to be ready. If we played our cards right, we could expose Vought and bring Homelander down in one fell swoop.
But if we failed... we'd be signing our own death warrants.
--------------------
Buy me a coffee: https://buymeacoffee.com/mrflashxoa
Here's the thing, buying me coffee makes me set my priorities for you all, lovely readers, no homo.
So buy me a coffee, and I would give u more chapters, and obviously give me powerstones too.
And again, if u want to donate leave a comment on the chapters or something, I would provide u with some sort of payment method, I guess. u could again buy me a coffee and send screen shot of that. U know how I asked about donating for ur own motherfking Original character with the name, I could do that too. Just send the SS, obviously after informing that u had done that. U would get a shout out, yay?
And here's about introducing your own characters in this story:
#Basic Cameo: $5 - $10
The OC appears briefly, like a background character or in a single interaction.
#Minor Character: $15 - $25
The OC appears in a few scenes with some dialogue but doesn't change the plot.
#Major Character: $30 - $50
The OC has a more substantial role and impacts the storyline.
There would be kind of limitations on how many OG characters would be there in this fanfic.
#Basic Cameo- 10-20 characters
#Minor Cameo- 5-10 characters
#Major Cameo- 2-5 characters
Yep, that's all, I guess.
Stay hooked for the next chapter.