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"Hurry up, you idiots! I spend a fortune on you, and at the crucial moment, you fall short!"
Inside a black sedan speeding toward the airport, Senator Hope, sweating profusely, barked orders, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief.
"Damn it, who the hell filmed that video?"
"The Department of Homeland Security is full of morons, especially Hansen! How could that useless waste let himself get filmed in his own office? What was I thinking working with him? Complete miscalculation on my part!"
Hope yanked out his phone, dialing yet another call to Vought CEO Edgar. But, as with his last ten calls, it went unanswered.
"Edgar, you bastard, pick up the phone!"
"Is Vought full of imbeciles? Can't you control your so-called 'products'? Or at least send a hero to protect me!"
Just then, his phone buzzed—it was his wife.
"Yes, honey, I'm going out of town."
"What video? Don't believe that garbage."
"It's just my opponents trying to smear me."
"Stay inside with Rita and don't go out."
He hung up, glancing out the window, relieved to see the airport looming in the distance.
Settling into his private jet, Hope exhaled, feeling the tension drain from his body.
"No surprises… I got away clean."
Picking up the cabin phone, he contacted the cockpit, "Captain, is everything ready? Let's get in the air!"
"Yes, to London. Now!"
Hanging up, he looked out the window, his expression darkening.
"Homelander… you damn Supes!"
"Because of him, I had to give up everything!"
"But I'll be back…" he seethed. "And I swear, that damn superhuman will pay!"
Soon after, the plane took off, and as they leveled out, Hope felt the exhaustion from his ordeal sink in. Pulling a blanket over himself, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
He didn't know how long he'd been out when a sound roused him.
Knock, knock, knock.
It was faint, like someone tapping on a window.
A window.
Senator Hope jolted awake. His pulse quickened as he processed where he was—thousands of feet up, in an airplane.
Who could be knocking at his window?
His breath hitched, and his face turned pale. With stiff, trembling movements, he slowly turned his head toward the window, his neck creaking like a rusty hinge.
Outside, the world was pitch black, clouds occasionally drifting past.
And there, just beyond the glass, was a face.
A strikingly handsome man with piercing blue eyes, his golden hair whipped back by the wind, lips curled in a faint smile.
Those blue eyes gleamed with a golden light that brightened, blazing as if a second sun was dawning.
---
A New York Apartment
A woman with short hair pulled a syringe filled with a blue liquid from her red purse.
"A-Train's gone, and I'm irrelevant. They don't want me anymore."
"I can't get acting gigs, no endorsements, nothing."
"I'm done."
Shaking her head, she glanced at the syringe and closed her eyes, steeling herself.
Moments later, she injected herself with the blue serum.
Her whole body shook, adrenaline spiking as her mood skyrocketed, a euphoric rush flooding her veins.
With a shout, she thrust her arm forward, a razor-sharp bone claw emerging from her skin.
She felt unstoppable.
Bang!
The apartment door was suddenly kicked open, and a figure clad in dark armor stepped in.
The woman froze, then lunged at the intruder, straddling him as she repeatedly stabbed him with her bone claws.
The armored figure grabbed her by the throat, yanking her off and slamming a fist into her stomach before tossing her to the floor.
She crumpled, clutching her abdomen and coughing so hard that tears welled in her eyes.
A voice broke the silence, "What did you inject yourself with, sweetheart?"
"That blue stuff…"
"Looks like Supe crack to me."
Struggling to raise her head, she saw the intruder's face as he removed his helmet—a rugged man with a scruffy beard and a smirk that practically begged to be punched.
---
Seven Towers
Homelander finished his intense workout, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the shower. As warm water cascaded down his back, he felt strong fingers kneading his shoulders.
A tired voice whispered in his ear, "Master, I can now enclose liquids within shadows and ensure not a drop spills."
"Oh?"
"That means your little revenge show can start soon."
Pulling her closer, Homelander squeezed Angelina's shoulder gently. She caught on immediately.
"Trust me," he murmured. "Soon, you'll have everything back that you lost."
Angelina mumbled a barely coherent response.
Later, while enjoying breakfast, he opened his status panel, skimming his skill proficiencies before checking the store for any new items.
> Shadow Cloak
Description: Enhanced from the 'Black Robes' used by the Undying Empire's guardians. This cloak grants 'Mist Form' and 'Shadow Merge' abilities.
Price: Dim Essence of Proficiency x30
"Not bad."
"'Mist Form' could be useful for evading attacks and moving quickly."
"'Shadow Merge' allows me to blend with shadows, becoming one with them, and move unseen."
Homelander decided to buy the cloak for Angelina, planning to let her wear it during her vengeance.
Just then, the command center doors swung open. Homelander turned to see Edgar storming in with a grim expression, Ashley scurrying in behind him. Edgar glanced back at her, and she promptly left, closing the door.
Without a word, Edgar turned on the television.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a breaking news segment.
> "We've just received word of a private plane that crashed over the ocean. The plane has been confirmed to belong to former Senator Hope Edron."
"The cause of the crash is still under investigation."
Edgar placed the remote down, turning to Homelander with an exasperated look. "Perhaps you owe me an explanation?"
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