Lin Aida.
The blind Asian woman Homelander had saved from the Vought Mart hostage situation.
He quickly recalled her and answered the phone while making his way to the elevator.
"Is this Mr. John?" Lin Aida's voice came through the receiver, soft and polite.
"Yes, it's me." Homelander smiled as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor.
Lin Aida exhaled in relief. "I'm so glad you didn't delete my number."
Homelander chuckled internally. Why would I delete you?
Before he could respond, Lin Aida continued. "Um, Mr. John… thank you for getting me out of the mall the other day. I heard afterward that Homelander fought some terrifying monster in the parking lot."
Homelander feigned a curious tone. "Is Homelander that scary?"
"No, no!" Lin Aida quickly clarified. "It's just… if you hadn't helped me leave, I might've gotten caught in the middle of their fight."
"I mean, I'm just an ordinary person. If I had gotten caught up in it... I wouldn't have stood a chance. It's terrifying just thinking about it."
Homelander hummed thoughtfully, listening as Lin Aida chuckled softly.
"So... I really want to thank you properly. Would you let me treat you to dinner sometime?"
"How about tonight?" Homelander asked offhandedly, exiting the elevator and walking toward the crime analysis department.
Lin Aida's voice brightened. "Yes! There's a really good Chinese restaurant near my place. I thought you might enjoy trying some authentic Chinese food."
"That does sound nice," Homelander said with a hint of amusement, "but I'm afraid I'm busy tonight, Miss Lin."
He had kept his identity from her as part of a little game—partly for amusement, partly because her quiet demeanor made him feel oddly at ease. But she was, after all, just another ordinary person. A fleeting connection. Nothing more.
"I see," Lin Aida replied, disappointment clear in her voice. "I guess I was being too forward… Anyway, take care, Mr. John."
"Goodbye."
Homelander ended the call just as Lin Aida sighed quietly on the other end. She muttered to herself, "What was I even thinking? Who would care about a blind woman like me?"
She set her phone down on the desk beside a superhero figurine—one wearing a red-and-blue suit with a mask, posed mid-swing with a webline.
---
At the Crime Analysis Department
It was Sunday, so most staff were off-duty, leaving the department eerily quiet except for a glowing monitor in the far corner.
A young woman sat there, earbuds in, nodding her head to music. Her glasses sat slightly askew on her nose, and she had kicked off her shoes, revealing brightly painted toenails. With her feet propped up on the desk, she absentmindedly tossed almonds coated in chocolate into her mouth.
Homelander strolled up behind her silently. The woman didn't notice until he plucked the earbuds from her ears.
"Jack, I told you not to bug me when I'm listening to—" She stopped mid-sentence when she turned and found herself face-to-face with Homelander.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "G-Good afternoon, Homelander!"
Homelander smiled politely. "Afternoon, Annika."
Annika fumbled to put her shoes back on but lost her balance and nearly slammed her head into the desk. She let out a startled yelp—only to feel a steady hand grab the back of her shirt and gently place her back in her chair.
"Thank you! Oh, um, would you like some chocolate almonds?" She held out the bag nervously.
Homelander chuckled. "No, thanks. I'm here for a status update."
He leaned against her desk. "Remember I asked you to investigate two convicts from the Vought Mart incident—the ones the hostage-takers demanded be released from Lux Isle Prison?"
Annika perked up. "Oh, yeah! I spoke with the police department, and we've got something on one of them—Rune Kate."
She tapped rapidly on the keyboard, and a man's face appeared on the screen. He had thick eyebrows, a flat nose, and a pair of small mustaches curled over his lip. Religious text—of some obscure origin—was tattooed along the side of his neck.
"Rune Kate," Annika continued, "was involved in several major criminal incidents. The worst was four years ago when he bombed a shopping mall, killing over a thousand people. He was sentenced to life in prison and is currently held at Lux Isle."
"Good. Keep digging into his background," Homelander said, patting her shoulder. "If you find anything useful, come straight to me."
"Got it."
"One more thing—look into A-Train's brother, Nathan. I want to know where he got that suit of his."
Annika gave him a sly smile. "So... does this make me your personal investigator now?"
Homelander paused, then chuckled. "I like that idea. I'll talk to your department. From now on, you report to me exclusively."
"Awesome!" Annika's eyes lit up. "Uh... does that mean I get a raise, too?"
Homelander grinned. "Starting today, your salary's doubled. How's that?"
Annika fist-pumped. "That's more than okay! I'll have everything you need by Monday."
"Good." Homelander gave her shoulder one last pat.
---
The Clock Tower
In a small town just outside the city, the streets buzzed with activity. At the heart of Silver Tree Town, a makeshift circus tent had been erected in the town square. Clowns with painted faces and bright costumes roamed the streets, handing out balloons to children.
Among them, one clown stood out—his yellow wig a bit too frizzy, his face paint cracked slightly at the edges. He carried a plain black suitcase as he weaved through the crowd, drawing little attention.
The clown made his way to the top of the town's clock tower, the highest point in Silver Tree. He pulled a colorful handkerchief from his pocket—not for a magic trick, but to check the wind's direction.
Satisfied with what he saw, he gave a sharp nod.
"Hey, what are you doing up there?" the clock tower's caretaker shouted from below.
The clown leaned over the railing and flashed a comical grin. "Just setting up tonight's fireworks, sir! I'll be down in a jiffy."
The caretaker relaxed. "Ah, fireworks! It's been ages since we had a good show. Make sure it's a good one, yeah?"
The clown tipped his oversized hat. "Don't you worry, sir—it'll be unforgettable."
As the caretaker shuffled back to his little cabin, the clown turned toward the heart of the town square, his grin stretching wider.
He whispered to himself, "Let's make tonight a show they'll never forget."
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