Chapter I: Outta' Sterile Walls

"My favorite movie, you say? Well, since I'm a red-blooded American, I have to say one of my favorites is an American movie, right? Haha! Just kidding! But if you ask me what my favorite is, then I would say it's 'Falling Down'. You've never heard of it? It's a film from 1993 and it's a damn good film. It's about what happens when society pushes a good man to his limits. He explodes right in their snarling faces. And they fucking deserve it if you ask me."

—Words of Homelander, America's Greatest Superhero, 2008, on The View Talk Show.

(V)

1991. New York. Vought Laboratory

Jonah Vogelbaum is a man who is fully devoted to his scientific pursuits.

Since he was a child, he has had an interest in scientific subjects. If you were to ask him what his favorite scientific field is, he would undoubtedly say genetic engineering. And that question would be considered foolish, as his degrees, multiple academic credentials, and achievements already point to his devoted study of genetics.

And complementing his intellect, he also possesses a remarkable amount of indifference and stoicism. After all, he wouldn't hold the position of Chief Security Officer at Vought if he were morally compulsive.

Regardless of one's intelligence or strength, a lack of indifference would inevitably lead to a short-lived tenure at Vought.

A ruthless place of greed and absolute wealth.

That's why, as he gazes into the transparent mirror in front of him, his face remains indifferent.

Even as he witnesses the child within the room, enclosed by sterile walls and demeaning translucent glass, his expression remains unchanged.

Even as he observes the child unwittingly squeeze the life out of his thirteenth female tutor through a well-intentioned but lethal embrace, his face maintains its indifference.

He remains indifferent, except for the fluid motion of his hands, gripping the pen and paper, flawlessly transcribing data without any alteration in his expression, akin to that of a model scientist—objective and stoic.

"Extract the body from the room. Take your time, as he is currently in a psychologically vulnerable state. Any hasty actions may influence his behavior," Jonah Vogelbaum stated to his assistant with a cold voice.

"Yes, sir," his assistant nodded and proceeded to instruct his men on extracting the body.

"This is the thirteenth time he unintentionally killed his tutor... What exactly is the underlying problem here?" Jonah Vogelbaum wondered aloud.

"A child like him needs a mother figure, considering I already serve as his father figure. That's why I assigned female tutors to him, aiming to address the psychological issue with John... However, it appears to be ineffective," he further added his thoughts.

He clenched his eyes tightly, recalling all the sociological and psychological books he had devoured during his pre-adolescent and adolescent years.

Then, he opened his eyes once more.

"Perhaps a different approach might prove fruitful. If providing an immediate mother figure has proven ineffective, maybe introducing a brother figure of sorts could yield…some favorable results."

With a determined stride, he walked towards the front of the sterile window, while the Vought security team removed the freshly deceased body from the room.

Inside the room, the child, his blue eyes brimming with fear, and his blond hair hidden beneath a cherished blanket he had clung to since infancy, continued to shut his eyes tightly.

Isolating himself from the world.

As Jonah observed the completion of the extraction process, one of his assistants entered the room.

"Sir, the body has been successfully extracted. The subject was not directly harmed, and minimal contact was made," the assistant stated crisply.

"Good. Now, proceed to Vought Crime Analytics and fetch my good nephew, would you?" Jonah instructed his assistant.

"Um….your nephew, sir?" the assistant sought clarification once again.

"Yes. He signed a contract with Vought, didn't he? Stating that as long as he remains employed by Vought, the Chief Security Officer can assign him for specific job-related purposes. Well, his contract has not yet expired."

"...Understood, sir." The assistant promptly departed to carry out the given task.

Afterward, Jonah gently touched the translucent glass with his right fingertips.

"You need to excel, John. Otherwise, you will be deemed a failure," he stated with a sincere tone.

(V)

Arthur Vogelbaum, the epitome of an average young adult, secretly indulges in a world of geeky hobbies. However, you'd never guess it by looking at his well-built body, decent facial structure, and wavy dark Caucasian hair. It's like genetics conspired to protect innocent bystanders from the full force of his nerdy obsessions. His hobbies remain stealthily hidden beneath a facade of brawn and attractiveness.

He fondly refers to it as "The Supreme Vogelbaum Genetics," which might explain why his uncle has such an affinity for the field of genetics. After all, his uncle is a Vogelbaum too.

Against all odds, and with a sprinkle of nepotism and a dash of genuine skill, he miraculously scored a high-paying gig at none other than Vought International, a behemoth of a corporation capable of toppling a small country in the blink of an eye.

Nevertheless, his skills remain unquestionably legitimate, as attested by his colleagues at Crime Analytics. Codes kneel before him like lovesick bitches, and satellites become mere toys under his command.

He found contentment in his position as a wage slave, for it provided ample support for his hobbies and drew women to him once they discovered his involvement in assisting their beloved superheroes with their save-of-the-day lists.

And so it was, as he stood before an utterly bizarre and fuckall weird room, he couldn't help but curse his uncle in his thoughts. He was about to exclaim that this shit was way beyond his fucking paygrade, but his uncle swiftly cut him off with a stern remark:

"You work for Vought. In exchange for the highest wages in America, you shall dedicate your utmost service and soul to its ambitions."

"But those contracts don't involve child experimentation! And why the fuck didn't he mention that he was creating goddamn Supes in test tubes? What the actual fuck?" Arthur frantically pondered as the sterile room's doors swung open before him.

Arthur closed his eyes, taking in a breath of the sterile air permeating the laboratory.

"Breathe in, breathe out. You can fucking do this. All you have to do is babysit a damn Supe who could probably snap my spine in half just by squeezing the shit out of me," he reassured himself mentally before opening his eyes.

He scanned the room, observing the white walls, the table, and the projector beaming the Star-Spangled Banner.

Then, his gaze fixated on the child standing before him, clutching his blanket.

He paused as he locked eyes with the child.

Innocence. Sorrow. Isolation.

"What the fuck is my uncle doing to him?" was the first thought that crossed his mind.

He shook his head, recalling the words his uncle had uttered the day before. 'Alright, accommodate the child, then project images of the Star-Spangled Banner, Christ the King, Baseball, and such. Repeat it over thirty times until his brain melts from sheer brainwashing…' Arthur couldn't help but exclaim in his mind in disbelief, 'What the fuck, uncle? Seriously, who the fuck came up with these brainwashing techniques? It's fucking unbelievable.'

Collecting himself, he began to speak, "Alright, kiddo—" But before he could finish his sentence, he was abruptly interrupted by the blonde child standing before him.

His eyes fucking glowed red.

'What the fuck!? That's the signal he's about to laser the fuck out of me! Shit, that's Masterbeam's motif when he's wreaking havoc in Portland with his eyes!' Arthur's mind raced with stress and terror.

"Woah, woah! Calm down, buddy! I'm not here to hurt you…" Arthur raised his hands in a placating gesture, attempting to calm the child.

"W-wh-who are you?" The child asked, his eyes still glowing.

'Fuck! I'm not going to die today!' thought the blond young adult, consumed by panic.

"Alright, alright! I'm your new tutor…I guess?" Arthur replied, his voice trembling with uncertainty and fear.

"B-but Father always brings my Mommy to tutor me! He never brought someone like you before!" The child with glowing eyes stated, his voice filled with sorrow.

'Oh…' Arthur now understood. The child was starved for attention, trapped in the confines of a laboratory.

"Well, my uncl—I mean, your 'Father,' asked me to accompany you today," Arthur stated, attempting to soothe the child.

"…..W-why?" The child inquired.

'Okay, now's the moment of truth. Please work,' Arthur pleaded silently.

"Well, don't you want to meet your brother?" Arthur chimed in, adopting a cheery tone.

Then, the red glow in the eyes of the child stopped.

"B-brother?" The blonde child echoed, perplexed.

"Well, I'm Sir Vogelbaum's nephew, so…I suppose you could call me your brother!" Arthur declared, forcing cheerfulness into his voice.

'God, that sounded so wrong,' he thought, cringing internally.

"R-really?" The child responded, his voice gradually growing happier.

"Yes…and I'm here to teach you your lessons," Arthur stated, infusing his words with a cheery tone.

"…" The child in front of him said nothing. But he still nodded in happiness.

Gratitude for camaraderie.

'Thank God he didn't decide to laser me. I promise that I will go to the fucking Church this Sunday.' Arthur thanked with all of his heart.

Then, he directed the blonde child at the seat on the table, beside the project necessary for lessons.

"Alright John, just recite what you remember."

(V)

"Who is this?" Arthur asked, pointing to the projected picture.

"Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Savior," the voice of a child responded.

Next.

"What is this?" Arthur inquired, pointing to another projected image.

"The Star-Spangled Banner of the United States of America."

Next.

"This?"

"Baseball."

Next.

"Then how about this?"

"…" The blonde child didn't respond. He sat in his chair, silent.

Arthur was puzzled. "Hey, what's wrong, kiddo?" he asked, adopting a brotherly tone.

"…Nothing," the child replied.

Arthur gazed at John with understanding eyes and said, "Look, you can tell me everything. I promise I'll listen."

John looked back at him, his face filled with sadness. "It's just that…I already knew all of this. I don't know why I have to see it again and again. I just…don't see the point, I guess?" The child spoke, weariness evident in his expression.

'Oh, of course. His life until this point has been monotonous as shit,' Arthur thought.

Then an idea struck him—a not-so-great idea, but an idea nonetheless.

'Uncle will probably reprimand me for this, but fuck uncle in the first place for getting me into this mess,' Arthur thought, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Do you want something different, John?" Arthur asked, using a soothing voice.

"…Can I?" John asked, addressing Arthur as his tutor—no, brother.

"Yes, you can," Arthur stated, a smile lighting up his face.

'Well, fuck you, uncle. I'll do this since you messed up my shit by sending me here.'

Arthur reached behind his pants and retrieved something, his gaze fixed on the large glass pane behind them. His uncle could see them, but he couldn't see his uncle due to the glass's unique composition.

"Tada! Here it is," Arthur exclaimed, raising his right hand in front of John, showcasing the item he had pulled out.

In his right hand, a portable game console was visible.

'Fucking Game Boy, baby! Nintendo is releasing some good shit currently!' Arthur smiled, his grin devilish, as he glanced at the glass window.

And he was confident that he had just earned his uncle's ire.

John looked at the console in Arthur's hand and asked, "What is that?" His eyes were filled with curiosity, not lasers.

"Haha! My little brother, this is called a handheld game console. Or you can just call it a Game Boy, really. You can play games on it," the blond young adult explained.

"Really? You mean I can play games on that small thing?" John asked, excitement sparkling in his eyes—again, not laser-related.

"Of course! Do you want to try it?" Arthur asked his little brother.

"Yes! Yes! Can I?" John pleaded, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Haha, of course you can! Here, hold it. But don't grip it too hard, or you might break it!" Arthur warned, handing the game console to John.

John nodded, holding the device delicately in his small hands.

"Now, here's how you play it. But first, choose a game. I suggest your first game be Mario…" Arthur, now fully engrossed in entertaining John, proceeded to instruct him on how to play.

(V)

"HAHA! That was fun!" John exclaimed to Arthur.

"Hmm, was it?" Arthur asked John, a smile gracing his face. However, his demeanor clearly showed signs of exhaustion. After all, he had spent many hours instructing and playing with John.

"Yes! I mean…I've never played anything before. Father wouldn't let me…" John stated, his voice tinged with sadness.

'Wow. I don't know what my uncle is thinking, but whatever it is, that shit ain't effective in raising a Supe. Or any normal human being, actually,' Arthur thought with amusement.

Arthur glanced at his watch. It was evident that their tutoring time had come to an end.

"Whoa! Would you look at that, Buster! Looks like playtime's over!" Arthur declared, patting John's head.

"…" John clearly enjoyed it, judging by his happy expression.

"Haha! You're a good lad. But…I have to retrieve my Game Boy, Buster," Arthur said to John.

At that, John appeared hesitant. "…Do you really have to go?" John asked, his eyes filled with pleading.

"Yes, I have to…but don't worry, Buster! I'll be back here tomorrow!" Arthur assured him.

"Promise?" John asked.

"Promise," Arthur replied.

'Well, if my uncle doesn't chew my head off,' Arthur thought, finding humor in the situation.

With that, Arthur retrieved his console from John's gaze and headed towards the door, which opened automatically. Before leaving, he glanced back at John's somber expression and nodded.

John looked back and nodded in return.

Then Arthur departed.

(V)

"Did you know that you almost compromised my project, Arthur? Are you aware of what your actions just did?" a cold voice asked in a room with sterile walls, devoid of warmth.

"I…entertained the Supe Child—I mean—John?" Arthur responded skeptically.

"You ignored the script. It was prepared and studied by experts on Floor 67. And you just circumvented it with your own…proclivities," Jonah Vogelbaum stated with such coldness that it could put the Arctic Ocean to shame.

"What you just did could potentially compromise the entire Project. I need to shape John into a perfect being. Strong, indestructible, and a flawless symbol of American ideals," Jonah declared with callousness in his tone.

"Wow… I know that what came out of your mouth, uncle, was bullshit. You don't give a damn about ideals. You only care about your research results!" Arthur retorted, his words laced with harshness yet still respectful.

"And what you just did may have jeopardized some of the favorable research results. The subject—"

"John," Arthur interrupted his uncle.

"—John is a highly valuable asset for Vought. He is the next Soldier Boy. That little guy there will be the face of America for future generations," Jonah concluded his lecture to his nephew.

"I know," Arthur stated.

"Do you really, Arthur?" Jonah questioned once more.

"Of course! But what I did will not ruin the results you want to achieve. In fact, it will be beneficial to the project," Arthur asserted.

"How so?" Jonah inquired.

"Look, if we continue down this path, John will grow up to be unstable. Sure, he'll become the most powerful being on the planet, if the data I read is correct, but there's a high chance of him becoming a neurotic individual," Arthur explained.

"Alongside the intense physical tests and the absolute torture you're subjecting him to, there's also a sense of safety deprivation. The only time he feels safe from everything is during his tutoring sessions. And even that has been taken away. There's no mechanism for him to cope. No place for respite," Arthur continued.

Jonah listened intently.

"And how do you think that will affect him in the future? Do you honestly believe the project will succeed this way? You're raising a nuclear weapon that could detonate any day! Instead of exerting control, you're adding fuel to the fire," Arthur did not stop his explanation

Jonah clasped his hands behind him and looked at his nephew.

"And add to that the Compound V. The V amplifies what is already there, uncle. If a normal person without reprieve can break and snap, then how about those who have been enhanced by Compound V? It will be even worse," Arthur concluded.

Both of them engaged in a tense staring match for a few moments. Jonah didn't relent in his cold gaze towards his nephew, maintaining the icy atmosphere in the room.

Then, Jonah made his decision.

"One hour," he stated.

"What?" Arthur asked, taken aback.

"One hour every day. That's the only time I will allow you to indulge him in your…proclivities. Anything more, and I'll personally remove you. I cannot risk compromising the project," Jonah declared with a cold tone.

"….Fine. One hour every day," Arthur reluctantly agreed.

And so, Arthur Vogelbaum unwillingly became the Brother-Tutor of a walking calamity.

(V)

1994. New York. Vought Laboratory

John was grateful for his brother.

No, he was truly grateful. Before him, his life in the sterile rooms of white was an absolute misery with no reprieve, except during the time when he was a child and his father would play with him and comfort him when he was sad.

But as he grew up, his 'father' grew distant. He didn't even see him that much anymore.

Along with that came the increased intensity of the testing.

The boiling... The electrocution... the burning in the furnace... the beatings...

It was endless. Day after day, the humiliation of the white cage grated at his very being.

"Did I do anything wrong?" was the question he always asked himself after those tests. After all, doesn't repetition imply something was wrong? Nevertheless, John did not care about it. He did not care about those things.

But it all changed three years ago when he met his brother.

His brother taught him everything. To laugh, to play, and how to be strong.

The one hour of reprieve given to him by his brother was more than enough to get him through the suffering.

After his tutoring with his brother every day, there would be one hour left for them to bond. To play games and watch movies.

John really liked the movies of John Wayne and Davy Crockett. He liked their masculine disposition and heroic acts. He was an American, after all.

He also liked the games his brother played with him, despite their weirdness. The titles of those games were weird, but still awesome. Mario, Legend of Zelda, and of course, his favorite, Final Fantasy. No, seriously, Final Fantasy was addictive, especially with its mechanics.

"Hey Buster! Let's watch this! Fresh from the shop, man! With damn English subtitles!" Arthur proclaimed loudly, breaking John out of his stupor.

"Huh? What?" John looked at the hands of his brother.

It was a VHS tape with an artistic drawing on the front. The art style was clearly foreign. He knew it because he had watched many American cartoons. And also, he looked at the title of the tape.

"…Akira?" John read it aloud. The name sounded strange on his tongue. Clearly Japanese.

"HAHA! Yes. I had to fight tooth and nail just to get a copy of this damn thing, especially ones with English subtitles. Wanna watch it?" he asked John.

"…Sure. I haven't watched any Easter cartoon anyway," John agreed.

"It's called anime! And it's an art form. You will like it, I promise." And so, Arthur played the movie.

For almost an hour, both of the brothers were totally engrossed.

"Huh... It was indeed good... The story is actually engaging. Didn't expect it," John stated with a surprised voice, clearly not expecting it to be this good.

Arthur simply watched his little brother with a smile on his face.

"…What?" John looked at his brother.

"Buster, promise me one thing," he started to talk.

"…" John gave his full attention to Arthur.

"Promise me that you won't let anyone disrespect you in any way. Promise me that if someone disrespects you... beat the shit out of them," Arthur stated with a serious tone.

"…What? Why?" John was baffled.

"Because, my little brother, respect is the most important thing to a man. Respect ensures that the world knows you are not weak. Whether a Supe or not, do not tolerate disrespect. A man with no self-respect will seek validation from others. And that, my little Buster, can affect your actions in many ways. A man without self-respect can be manipulated in many ways. A man without self-respect is no man at all. A weak man."

"…But..." John was about to counter him.

"Are you weak, John?" Arthur asked him with a serious tone.

At the word 'weak,' John became angry.

Boiling water... electrocution... hot furnace...

His eyes glowed. "I AM NOT WEAK!" he screamed.

But Arthur did not change his expression.

"Good. A weak man cannot save anything. Remember that, John," Arthur stated with finality.

"But If I beat them….won't they die? After all, these mud people are fragile after all." At that, John's voice took a sinister tone.

"…Then intimidate them. But do not let them disrespect you or the ones important to you. Not like what happened with my father…..A fucking weak man." At that, Arthur's tone became somber.

John understood. His eyes stopped glowing red, and he nodded at his brother.

"Thank you... for the advice," John stated with a grateful tone.

"Heh! Never mind that you are my brother after all—Holy shit! Tetsuo loses control!" Arthur exclaimed, watching the TV in front of him in the sterile room. Now that got John's attention.

And so, the two brothers watched with gleeful expressions.

(V)

1996

The one-hour reprieve was up once again, and, as always, two blonde men watched TV together.

"The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, huh? Good choice, Buster," Arthur complimented his little brother.

"Hah! Since you bombarded my head with Anime, I need classics and masculine movies to cleanse my good ol' American mind," John stated, rather jokingly.

"Clearly, you liked it. Hell, how many times have you requested Anime movies from me before? And thank God you didn't become a fucking geek like me," Arthur replied.

Both men laughed.

Then, Arthur stared at John.

'His abilities are growing faster than ever before. His strength is basically immeasurable now. And then there are his other abilities... maybe it's time to give him this talk,' Arthur thought with finality.

"John," Arthur stated.

Of course, John immediately looked at his brother. Using his real name implied a serious matter, after all.

"What?" John asked.

"No matter what happens, never hide your true self," Arthur began.

"W-what are you saying?" the young blonde sought clarification.

"Fulfill one more promise for me. When you ascend to that wretched stage to become a hero, do not put on a façade. Cuss when you want to cuss. Mock when you want to mock," Arthur continued.

John listened.

"Whatever happens, always be genuine. Do not be shackled by the expectations of others... Buster," Arthur said.

"But doesn't being a hero—"

"Ignore that bullshit they peddle. Just be yourself, whether on stage or here with your brother."

"..." John looked down.

"Who are you, John?" Arthur asked.

"I-I'm America's Prote—"

"No, who's the real you, John?" Arthur clarified, with a tone that could cut steel itself.

John did not respond. He even ignored the movie in front of him.

Then, John closed his eyes and laid back his head.

And then, he opened them again.

"I'm a God. And I can do whatever the fuck I want..." John stated with an arrogant tone.

"And why is that?" Arthur asked.

"…Because I am strong," John replied with a tone that implied certainty.

"Good. That is the genuine you. Never hide it. Because when you hide that, it can be used as weakness," Arthur stated.

"…I understand." At that, John smiled.

"So... pay attention to the movie, Buster," Arthur stated with a humorous tone.

With that, John laughed.

'Thank you... Brother. I promise…' John thought with a smile.

And that was the last time John saw his brother in the sterile walls of the Laboratory of Vought.

(V)