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New York, Chief's Office, Federal Police Headquarters
Chief Carl put down the phone, frowning slightly as he faced the woman sitting across from him. "Apologies, ma'am. I haven't been able to get in touch with Ms. Ashley from the Seven."
He rubbed his temple in frustration. "She might be tied up with something. I'll try again later."
The woman, her expression growing more irritated, snapped, "But I've already waited days, Chief. A superhero has gone missing."
"For the past 24 hours, I've been begging for help from law enforcement. Yet, here I am—only now, finally speaking to you."
"And now you want me to go home and wait again? What if Blue Hawk has already been killed while you've been telling me to wait?"
Chief Carl sighed, running a hand down his face. "Look, superheroes don't die that easily."
"Besides, superheroes fall under the jurisdiction of Vought's Seven Tower, not us. You'd really have better luck reaching out to them directly."
The woman slammed her hand on the table, anger seething in her voice. "There it is again. Every department just passes the buck."
"The local precinct told me only federal police could help. Now, you're telling me to contact the Seven."
"What next? Will the Seven tell me it's a job for the police?"
"Is this how you treat taxpayers?"
Carl groaned. "Fine, fine, let me try something else."
He picked up the phone again, dialing another number. After a moment, he smiled. "Good news, ma'am."
"I've managed to get through to the Seven's PR team. They said they'll contact the Crime Analysis Division."
"All heroes under Vought's management are equipped with trackers, which makes it easier to locate and assist them."
"I'm sure we'll have news about Blue Hawk soon."
The woman's tense expression eased slightly. "I hope so."
---
88th Floor, Seven Tower
Edgar sat in his office, watching the screen before him. On it, Homelander was grinning as he announced, "From this very second onward—there will be no rescues, no missions. The Seven are officially off duty."
Edgar removed his glasses, calmly wiped the lenses, and put them back on.
A knock on the door was followed by a sweet voice. "Mr. Edgar, your appointment with Mr. David has arrived."
A moment later, the door opened, and a heavyset man in a lab coat entered, carrying a metal briefcase.
David eagerly placed the briefcase on Edgar's desk. "Good news, Mr. Edgar. I've made progress. I have a working prototype."
Opening the briefcase, he revealed a single glass vial filled with a bright, orange-hued liquid that shimmered under the office lights.
Edgar raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"
David beamed with pride. "It's exactly what we discussed—a formula designed to suppress superhuman abilities."
"I haven't officially named it yet, but I was thinking… 'David's Particle.'"
Edgar picked up the vial, turning it in his hand. "How does it work? Injection?"
David shook his head quickly. "No, no. Homelander's skin is impervious to needles. I doubt there's a syringe on Earth that could pierce him."
"That's why I designed it to be airborne."
"These particles evaporate instantly upon exposure to air and spread in seconds."
"Oh?" Edgar tilted his head slightly. Then, without warning, he hurled the vial to the floor.
The glass shattered with a sharp crack, and the orange liquid quickly vaporized, dissipating into the air within moments.
David was still processing what had happened when a shimmer appeared in the corner of the room.
A naked figure suddenly materialized—The Invisible Man.
Edgar turned and smiled. "Hello, Invisible Man."
Then he glanced back at David. "It seems your particle works perfectly."
David stammered, "B-but, Mr. Edgar, this is still experimental. Right now, it only suppresses abilities for one to three minutes."
Edgar's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the now-visible man. "One minute is more than enough to get things done."
"Wouldn't you agree, Invisible Man?"
---
Elsewhere
"Unbelievable! Has Homelander lost his mind?"
"Is this some kind of tantrum?"
"Or is he really declaring war on Homeland Security?"
"Does this mean our so-called protector is just a spoiled child throwing a fit?"
"Because if that's the case, why would he choose now—right after being summoned to a hearing by the Supreme Court—to announce a strike?"
On the television, a reporter animatedly voiced his concerns as the scene shifted to an interview with Yuri, the military officer.
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit private room, Senator Hope raised a glass of whiskey, smirking at the man sitting across from him—a tall, pale man with a thin build and dark hair tied into a sleek ponytail.
"It looks like the hearing rattled our dear Homelander," Senator Hope chuckled.
"He's already scrambling to fight back—and playing right into our hands."
"Whether or not he shows up at the hearing now, Vought will lose its defense contracts with the Department of Defense this year."
He leaned closer, raising his glass. "Congratulations, Mr. Arnold. With Vought out of the picture, your company—Olga Industries—stands to profit handsomely."
Arnold smiled politely. "Of course, it's all thanks to your influence, Senator. Without your push, Homeland Security wouldn't have filed those charges in the first place."
Hope grinned maliciously. "That damn Homelander didn't care about my life when I was taken hostage. Not for a second."
"I knew right then that he's no hero. He only cares about his little game of playing the savior."
"A man like that belongs locked away in a prison designed just for him—not soaring freely through our skies."
Arnold nodded in agreement. "I couldn't have said it better myself."
The senator's expression darkened. "However, I've heard rumors that your company has been... distributing experimental combat suits to criminals."
"If this backfires, our deal with the Department of Defense could collapse—and I could face impeachment."
Arnold feigned surprise. "Combat suits? Given to criminals?"
He pulled out his phone and made a brief call. Then, with a polite smile, he turned back to Hope.
"It seems there was indeed a rogue incident—an engineer named Jeff acted without authorization and sold some suits to a third party."
"Don't worry, Senator. Jeff has been fired, and the authorities have already been notified. He'll be brought to justice soon."
For a moment, Hope stared at Arnold in silence—then burst into laughter, raising his glass.
"You're a ruthless man, Arnold."
Arnold clinked his glass against Hope's. "To a prosperous partnership."
"To a prosperous partnership."
Their glasses touched with a soft chime, sealing their dark pact.
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