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"Ashley, arrange a press conference for me," Homelander said, rising from his seat with a casual smile. "And tell the wardrobe team I'm ready to meet them. I finally have time now."
He gave her a grin that radiated warmth—except for his eyes, which were utterly devoid of emotion.
Ashley froze for a moment, caught off guard. "Homelander, I really think now isn't the right time for a press conference. The legal team—"
"Just do what I say, darling," Homelander interrupted, still smiling.
Ashley hesitated, but ultimately nodded and left the room. Not long after, the wardrobe team arrived, carrying tablets and presentation boards.
The lead designer stepped forward and cleared his throat nervously. "Honored Homelander, we've prepared several new costume designs. We hope you'll like them."
Homelander nodded lazily, gesturing for them to begin.
The first design appeared on the command room's screen. It featured a gleaming white suit with feathered patterns along the shoulders and a gold cape that flowed behind it.
"This is the 'Guardian Angel' design," the lead designer explained. "The white represents purity and symbolizes peace—"
"Next." Homelander waved a hand, cutting the designer off mid-sentence.
The designer's face stiffened with embarrassment. That design had been his personal favorite, meant to impress Homelander right away. Now, he could only swallow his disappointment and sit back down, passing the presentation to another team member.
A female designer took over, bringing up a new concept.
This one was quite similar to Homelander's current suit, with the primary color remaining blue. However, the design had been simplified, discarding unnecessary elements and keeping only red accents for emphasis.
At the chest, an abstract emblem vaguely resembling the letter P stood out. Flames ran along the arms, partially sculpted into sharp, blade-like shapes.
"This one is called 'Flame Guardian,'" the designer explained.
"The flames symbolize your passion, strength, and unwavering commitment to justice."
"We used hardened materials for the flame designs along the arms, giving them the shape of blades to reflect your sharpness and unyielding spirit."
"The emblem on the chest represents an abstract letter 'P,' which also stands for 'protection.'"
Homelander nodded in approval. "Not bad. Next."
The next designer, a white man with an eager expression, presented a daring design: a sleek black suit laced with gold lightning streaks.
"These gold lines enhance the suit's aesthetic," the designer explained excitedly, "while also highlighting the perfect contours of your physique."
"This design is called 'Midnight Thunder.'"
He clasped his hands together, visibly excited. "Homelander, you are the brightest flash of lightning in this dark, sinful world!"
"This world is nothing but chaos and shadow. You are the light that cuts through the darkness—the savior we all need!"
Homelander stood silently for a moment, arms crossed, before saying, "Go on."
The team continued to present several other designs—one of which was entirely green, causing Homelander to wrinkle his nose in disdain.
Finally, he clapped his hands together.
"I like 'Flame Guardian' and 'Midnight Thunder.'"
"Make both."
The designers nodded eagerly.
"But," Homelander added, "change the emblem on the 'Flame Guardian' suit. No more 'P.'"
The lead designer tilted his head in confusion. "What should we replace it with?"
Homelander smiled. "Replace it with a 'K.' For King."
---
Two hours later, Homelander stood just outside the press conference venue, ready to make his entrance. But before he could walk in, he sensed a presence behind him.
"Hold on a moment, Homelander."
Turning around, he found himself face to face with Edgar, the calm and calculated CEO of Vought.
Standing a few steps away was The Invisible Man, his presence barely noticeable.
Edgar's expression was serious, bordering on stern. "I need to talk to you."
Homelander checked the time on a nearby clock. "You've got three minutes."
Edgar glanced toward the conference hall. "What are you planning to announce in there?"
Homelander smirked. "Do I need your approval?"
Edgar gave a weary smile. "No, you don't. But I have some advice."
"Right now, both you and Vought are under intense scrutiny. One wrong move, and we'll be torn apart—sent into orbit."
Homelander shrugged. "Good thing I know how to fly back."
Edgar wiped his face, exhaling softly. "I'll be blunt: I want you to cancel this press conference. Right now, the best strategy is to do nothing. The less we say, the less ammunition we give our enemies."
Homelander clapped Edgar on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, friend. I'll crush every enemy that comes our way."
"Relax. Why don't you head up to the 88th floor, have Angelina make you a coffee? She's pretty good at it."
With that, he gave Edgar a reassuring pat and strolled into the conference hall without a second glance.
Edgar stood there for a moment, watching him go. Then, shaking his head slightly, he turned and walked away.
---
As Homelander entered the press room, the cameras and flashing lights lit up like fireworks.
With a confident stride, he made his way to the podium, flashing a charming smile at the reporters.
Raising both hands, he gestured for them to calm down. The flashing lights ceased.
He tested the microphone with a soft tap, then leaned in.
"I'll bet," he began, his voice smooth and playful, "that what I'm about to say is going to keep you folks running for the next three days straight."
The reporters chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to their laughter.
"Homelander, what do you want to share with us today?" one of the reporters asked eagerly.
Homelander scanned the room, ensuring the cameras were still rolling. "We're live, right?"
"Yes, Homelander. We're live."
With a nod, he faced the cameras, his expression turning serious.
"I'm sure everyone's seen the news this morning."
"It seems our dear Homeland Security is worried that my team and I are causing too much damage to New York's city infrastructure."
"I understand their concerns. Truly, I do."
"To address these concerns, I have an announcement to make."
Homelander paused dramatically, letting the tension build.
"As of this moment, the Seven are officially halting all operations."
"Yes, you heard me."
"No rescues, no missions, nothing. From this second onward, we're off duty."
"So, if you find yourselves in trouble..." Homelander gave the camera a sly smile.
"Go ask your friendly neighborhood police officers for help."
"And that's all I have to say."
With a wink to the cameras, he set the microphone down and walked off the stage, leaving the room in stunned silence.
---
Outside the conference hall, Ashley stood frozen, her face pale with disbelief.
After a long moment, she clutched her head, pulling at her hair in frustration.
"I knew it," she muttered through gritted teeth.
"I knew nothing good could come from him holding a press conference!"
"What the hell was that?"
"Is he throwing a tantrum… or declaring war on Homeland Security?"
Before she could gather her thoughts, her phone buzzed incessantly. But she had no time to answer—she could already hear the flood of reporters rushing toward her.
Taking a deep breath, Ashley squared her shoulders and marched back into the chaos of the press room, steeling herself for the onslaught ahead.
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