A/N: ...I'm not in a good place at the moment. Sorry.
I recently lost a dear family member in an auto accident. Some young punk hit one of my uncles on the road...and the impact killed him. Just like that. He's gone. I knew him for so long, and suddenly, he's been taken away.
I didn't even get to say good bye...
Literally woke up to the news, and its driven me down to a dark place I haven't been in twenty years.
What do I do with this pain? With this rage? I'm truly beginning to hate this year, no that's not quite right I f***ing DESPISE it. 2023 has taken so many loved ones from me already, with no end in sight. So much pain. So much death. Now, my uncle has joined them. When will it end? When will it stop? Will it ever? Why does this keep happening? What's the point?
Trying to shake it off and bury myself in work. Hopefully it helps...
EDIT: The service for him will be in a few days. This does not help. Not at all.
WARNING! Mature story ahead! Well, this is "The Boys" of course, so that's to be expected.
Then again, Fanfiction has been on a purge of explicit material these days; hence why I keep those over on A03.
Took some time away to think on things, draw up new character arcs, scrap others. Another year older, wiser, and with even more grey hairs. Makes a man feel proper old. Hard to believe I've been at this for fifteen years...will I still be alive in fifteen more? I'd like to hope so, but there are times when I wonder...
In other news depression's starting to hit real hard these days. Sometimes I wonder why I do anything at all. I can't claim to understand what's going wrong with my head. I don't even know why! One moment I'm fine, then my mood craters for a few hours, then I'm back again for a bit, and the cycle repeats. Its rather annoying; as though I've become a prisoner in my own mind sometimes. Sure, what's one more mental problem on the pile. Not like I don't have enough, what with already being this old. Feels like every day is a battle sometimes. My doctor is of no help at all.
*siiiigh* Don't mind the rambling of this geezer...
So here we go. The fate of this story depends on you, the reader. Your feedback determines the fate of this tale, and many others.
As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than I.
I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.
Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that.
In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!
Minor verbatim from The Boys. And spoilers for Gen V!
Spoilers for The Boy's Diaobical as well.
That's right, I've watched both.
"Listen, John. Never forget who you are. The rest of the world will not.
Wear your strength like armor. Hold it tight. Keep it close.
Then it can be never used to hurt you."
"That's why we help people, right?"
"Exactly, son. We help people."
"Everyone."
~?
Man in the Sky
His arm was trembling again.
Naruto glared at it and flooded the limb with chakra until the tremors ceased. Even then the pain didn't quite fade; it still lingered, tingling at the back of his brain to cast a veil of static across his vision. He pushed it away and a coughing fit seized him instead. Groaning, he covered his mouth, frowned now, when his hand came away bloody.
.
..
...damnit."
"You're running out of time, Naruto."
"You think I don't know that?" he wiped his palm on the wall and took a swig of his water bottle to wash the acrid taste away. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Fine." came the clipped response. "Ice Princess is looking for your again. She's on the fourth floor, homing in on your position."
Or more likely the ice cold water bottle currently clutched in his right hand. Naruto heaved a sigh. Ah, shit.
Elsa was a nice girl, really, she was, but her hands were just so darn cold. Not to mention-
"Ahem."
He took a deep shuddering breath and shoved his thoughts away. He liked to think he'd done good these past few years. Edgar had been a man of his word; giving him access to near unlimited resources, resources he'd used for the greater good and more.
He was mentoring some greats these days. Heroes with real promise. A-Train and Little Cricket, Push, Popclaw, Polarity, the Deep, even a young Golden Boy, among others.
There had been some bumps along the road, of course. A lot of kids weren't happy to learn that their "gifts" came from Compound V.
Others embraced it; like that Translucent prick. Had to kill that pervert. Didn't regret it.
Then there was that sassy girl with the blood powers...what was her name again? Marie? Ah, that was it. Marie Moreau. Messy situation, that but he'd been on hand to save her parents before things spiraled out of control. Shame about her little sister, though. There were some things kids just weren't meant to see and the sight had traumatized her. No amount of words on his part could help with that. Theirs was a bond that would take time to repair, and even then it might never truly be whole. Still, Marie seemed determined to attend Godolkin University, and he was inclined to recommend her...
.
..
...once he finished looking into the school. He had the distinct feeling Brink was hiding something from him...
He felt his heart beat sluggishly in his chest again, spurring another headache.
Blue eyes snapped into gold, superheated with plasma from within.
Naruto closed them quickly, lips twisting in a pained grimace.
Heat vision today? Really? Of all the random powers he got daily, this one had to be the most annoying. He'd have to keep his eyes shut for hours, now or risk searing someone in half...such a drag. Shikamaru would've laughed at him if he were here. Taking a deep breath, as he flushed his system with Kurama chakra agian, buying himself a reprieve.
Not yet; he couldn't afford to stop just yet. He still had miles to go. Promises to keep. Despite all that Vought had done to him, he was still alive, and still kicking. John and Maeve needed him. He couldn't die yet...refused to, he did. Heh. The brief bout of humor brought him some small semblance of solace. He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling a little at the streaks of silver in it. There was still time. He could still make things right, fix everything. He had to. He must. And when the time came...he would pass the torch.
But today was a day to celebrate; one'd spent the better part of two years preparing for.
Shaking off his stupor, Naruto turned and faced the crimson curtain.
Right. Put on a brave face. Don't let anyone see your pain.
From there, he touched a finger to his ear. "Showtime. John, Maeve. You ready?"
A quick pair of affirmatives came through, buzzing with anxiety.
"You'll be fine." he hummed back. "There's no lines for you to say here, just speak from the heart. Feel free to throw a few verbal jabs if you like. Make Stan squirm a little."
"Aha!" A triumphant voice cried out behind him before he could finish. "There you are, coach~!"
The temperature in the room plummeted a few degrees. Ice Princess had arrived.
He heaved a sigh. "Tracked me down, did you...?"
(.0.0.0.)
The spotlight awaited him.
John hated it. He hated the crowds, loathed the cheering, despised all those fake faces awaiting him. These people didn't care about him. Not really. Oh they chanted and cheered his name, but he knew all too well how fickle the masses could be. It seemed so superfluous now, childish, even. Heroes were meant to be...well, heroes. Champions. Defenders. Guardians. They were here to protect and serve, to keep peace and give hope to those who were , not be paraded around like cuts of meat.
Yet here he was.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he heard Edgar's voice call fro the stage, "Please welcome to the stage the latest, and might I say greatest, addition to the Vought crime-fighting family. Homelander!"
The ceiling irised open below him.
That was his cue.
"You'll be fine." Dad's voice hummed into his earpiece. "There's no lines for you to say here, just speak from the heart.Feel free to throw a few verbal jabs if you like. Make Stan squirm a little-
He heard a happy gasp on the other end, one that overshadowed his words. "Aha! There you are, coach~!"
John winced despite himself. Now there was one battle even he didn't want to fight.
Maeve heard it too and gave him a rueful grimace. "Knock 'em dead, slugger."
If only. He ran a hand through her hair. "Kiss for luck?"
She granted him a quick peck on the lips for encouragement, then he was off.
He flew down from on high to raucous applause.
And the noise. So much noise. Jeez...
Okay, lots of cameras. He really hadn't expected all that many. They kept going off in his face, almost blindingly.
"Not since Soldier Boy has Vought been so excited to work with a superhero of Homelander's stellar caliber. You all know him, his deeds, his legacy. He's saved lives all over the world, from New York to Hawaii, India to Brazil," he listened with half an ear as a pretty little blond number recounted some of his greatest heroic feats. Cute of her, but he hadn't done any of that for the glory, and he wasn't doing this for the accolades. "You all know him, you all love him, now let's hear what he has to say!"
Ah, but the cameras had stopped and everyone was looking on him; he should probably say something.
"Hello, friends!" he waved a hand and imagined popping their heads like grapes. The thought made him smile. "So nice to finally meet you~!"
The questions, at least, he was prepared for. Dad had warned him that the press would try to rake him over the coals, or barring that, freeze him out.
Let them try. The cold never bothered him anyway.
"Homelander!" a reporter raised their mike. "How do you feel working with Vought after all they've done?"
Behind him, Stan Edgar winced. Good. Let him squirm. Let him remember.
He plastered a winning smile to his face. "We've put that behind us...
No, they hadn't. He still carried a grudge. Vought would pay for every torment, every injection, every agony he'd suffered before Dad busted him out of there. All the hell they'd put Maeve through. He was going to tear down this so-called "pharmaceutical company" down around Edgar's ears, take it for himself, and make it something better. He'd show the old man. He'd make Naruto proud.
...needless to say, I've decided to be the bigger man. I'm here to help Vought be the best they can possibly be."
"Heh." Dad's voice chortled in his ear. "Smooth talker. Don't let them trip you up."
Another microphone rose. "What made you decide to join up with Vought?
Well, well, well. Perfect opportunity. He'd be a fool to ignore it.
"I'm so glad you asked." This time, he didn't have to fake the smile for the cameras. "The way I see it, this is a chance to use my gifts to make the world a better place. To root out corruption wherever I see it."
"New York's a lot rougher than the country." a reporter raised her mic. "How are you getting ready for everything this city can throw at you?"
"Great question." he feigned a wink at her. "You see, I'm not doing this alone. Allow me to introduce the love of my life...Queen Maeve!"
The ceiling irised open above them once more. A shadow fell from above, a comet from on high.
Maeve crashed down, alighting in a pointed crouch beside him, one fist to the floor.
Classic superhero landing. Hell on the knees, though.
She stood, grabbed his hand and gripped it so hard it actually hurt for a second. John felt a fierce flash of sympathy for her. Poor girl was just as stressed as she was. Somehow that calmed him. Reminded him that for all the stress he felt, he wasn't alone. She was with him. Dad might not be on stage with that Edgar prick, but he was still in his ear, whispering words of encouragement, even as the reporters heckled him.
"Do you have any parting words for your fans?""
It took everything he had not to belt out a laugh then and there.
Ohhh, there was so much he could say there. It would be so easy to sink them.
Instead, he settled for something he KNEW would set Vought's very teeth on edge.
"Its my belief that we can make the world better, together. I can't wait for you to see the real me."
(.0.0.0.)
A hooded man starred at the screen for a long, ponderous moment.
Pale eyes focused on Homelander's image.
"There you are."
(.0.0.0.)
You know, the view really wasn't half bad all the way up here in Vought tower.
It had nothing on flying, John found, but he could still appreciate it.
"You think you're real slick, don'tcha?"
...less so the company they kept.
Really? Now? Of all times?
He had a feeling this moment was coming; he'd anticipated it even; just not quite so quickly. As the newest additions of the Seven he and Maeve were bound to face some pushback from the more established members. It was inevitable, as sunrise to sunset. He had prepared for this, constructed all sorts of scenarios in his head. Plans to deal with Ice Princess-she really did have a massive crush on Dad-perhaps Crimson Countess, or maybe Mister Marathon, Black Noir and even Jack from Jupiter.
He hadn't expected Soldier Boy himself to rear his ugly mug.
John pivoted to face him, Vought's greatest hero in all his bearded glory. The man didn't look much pleased to see him.
In all fairness chosen his moment well; the hallway was empty, not a soul to be seen. Maeve was occupied, Dad was dealing with Ice Princess, and gods knew where Stan was. It was the perfect moment for them to have it out. He could understand why Soldier Boy felt threatened, even sympathize with it to a degree; this was his place of pride; he was the leader of the Seven for crissakes. He could smell the whiskey on his breath; must've been drinking. Wasn't hard to see why.
'I can take him.'
He could, he knew he felt
"You must be Soldier Boy." out came the winning smile again, the one he seldom felt these days. "Its so nice to finally meet you-oomph!"
He grunted in annoyance as the older man slammed him up against the wall.
"Listen, you little shit." an arm pressed down on his throat, trying to silence him. "This is my spotlight. You hear me?" he gave him a shake to rattle him. "Mine! If you think for a single second that I'm gonna share the spotlight with some upstart like you-
Jon rolled his eyes, reached up, pulled his arm away, and delivered a vicious headbutt to his forehead.
Soldier Boy grunted in surprise and stumbled back, fists raised and ready to box...
.
..
...all for naught.
"The hell are you going?!
John didn't give him the satisfaction of starting a fight He turned and walked away, cape billowing behind him.
"I don't give a shit about your spot." he didn't deign to look back as he reached the elevator and punched in one of the lower floors. "But things are gonna change around here. You'll need to stop drinking for one. Its bad for your health.
"Why you little...!"
He heard the haymaker coming before Soldier Boy even threw it. He heard everything. The way his muscles creaked. The pop of four knuckles as the older man clenched his fingers into a fist. Felt the vibrations in the floor when he stepped forward and the wind brush brushed against the back of his neck. Three-point-one-seconds. All the time in the world.
John caught his fist without even looking his way. From there, he tilted his head. "I'm sorry, was that supposed to do something? Really, all you did was ruiny my hair."
His adversary stepped back. He could hear their heart hammering. Smell their fear. "Aw, hell."
"No, not hell." his eyes blazed with heat. "Not yet. You'll be going there eventually."
"How can you still look at me like that?!"
"Because unlike you...I stand for something." he stood, cracked his neck, and rose in the light. "Soldier Boy, was it? Listen, Soldier Boy. This whole place?" he planted his left leg." This is my house." right leg now. "You, aren't the king here. I am." Spreading his arms wide, he stepped forward. "And you know what they say about old kings...the bigger they are, the harder they fall."
"Why can't you take this seriously, you little shit?!"
A hand closed around his chin, snapping his head back. He hadn't even seen him move.
"Because," John' hissed in his ear. 'That's what you want. And I'm not going to give it to you. But I will give you this."
Clenched knuckles slammed into his chest and launched him backward.
The elevator dinged open behind him. John whirled and bodily threw Soldier Boy into it, walked in after him, and then waited for the doors to close. Vought Tower was terribly tall, but he didn't feel like taking chances. The second the doors swished shut, he kicked the older man while he was down and smashed a fist against the emergency stop button.
With a lurching start, the car came to a grinding stop.
"Not so little now, am I?" he growled down at the stunned soldier. "
He felt alive now, charged in a way he hadn't been before. Strong. Powerful.
"Pick yourself up," he snapped at him. "You're an embarrassment to that uniform."
Soldier Boy lurched upright and threw a punch that snapped his head to the side. Not enough. Not in these cramped quarters. There wasn't enough room to built up any sort of momentum; he took full advantage of it all, accepted the punch with a grunt, turned the other cheek, and slugged him right back.
A wild haymaker slammed in at his face. He caught it.
"When I was a boy I watched all your movies. I looked up to you; I thought you were a hero." His grip tightened. "That you stood for something. But you're just like all the rest. Reality is often disappointing. Never meet your idols, I guess."
Soldier Boy caught his other hand. Not so the barreling boot into his stomach. It was easy. One kick at full strength -he'd sweat and cried and bled for this strength- and Soldier Boy, the greatest "hero" Vought had ever made, crumpled down to a knee, winded, gasping for air.
He reached down, seized him by the throat and slammed him against the car.
"I spent my life training to fight bully like you." his lips parted in a rare snarl. "Where did you learn to fight, Soldier, hmm?" he tilted his head. "On a farm?"
Vought's greatest "Hero" groaned in pain. How incredibly disappointing. He was no Naruto. One on one, and he probably wasn't even a match for Dad.
John reached past him and slapped the emergency stop button once more.
The elevator lurched down, the doors opened, and he stepped out.
He left Soldier Boy sprawled out on the floor, gasping for air.
"I'll prove myself and change this place. Watch and see."
He had a chance to do so that very night.
(.0.0.0.)
Breaking News!
A group calling themselves the Chemical Liberation Front have taken hostages at the Cruz Chemical Plant on Staten Island.
The hostages are all said to be Cruz Chemical managers and executives.
The CLF also release this footage an hour ago:
"We didn't want to do this, but Cruz left us no choice. They pour their toxins into our water, their poisons drift into our schools, our parks, our homes and cause this!
They're killing our children and worse-mutating them into...freaks! Well, no more! Not one more!
Until they close this fucking cancer factory, we're not going anywhere!"
(.0.0.0.)
He could do this.
He knew he could.
He had to; this was his time, his moment.
John gazed down at the power plant below him, silhouetted against the light of the full moon. Even way up here with fresh air aplenty, there the toxic fumes threatened to choke him; he couldn't imagine what it was like for the people down there. No one would die on his watch.
"You've got fourteen minutes before the Vought police arrive and do something stupid." Dad's voice crackled through the headset. "A-Train and Maeve were chomping at the bit to help, but I told them you needed to do this alone. You're welcome, by the way. They have a jammer down there, so you won't be able to hear me. Make it snappy and I'll have dinner ready by the time you're home."
A small smile creased his tense face. "Spaghetti, again?"
Laughter answered. "Would you rather it be ramen?"
His grin grew. "No, sir."
"Good luck, son."
John clicked the earpiece off and looked downMost would've rushed in headlong and started swinging, consequences be damned. Most hadn't been trained by a master shinobi. It was the work of a moment to dive down into the plant and conceal his presence, and another to use his x-ray vision to find his targets. For all his colorful costume and cape he could still stealth with the best of them.
Two shooters. A man and a woman, the latter of whom was coming around the corner to him now.
"Remember, son," Dad's voice came back to him not through the earpiece, but in a rush of memory. "You're strong. Its all well and good when you're dealing with a Supe. But most folks ain't as sturdy as me and Maeve. You have to be gentle. People break easy."
That got him thinking of other things, no, no, focus.
'Alright,' he breathed out. 'Just like we practiced.'
His legs tensed.
Now!
A quick step brought him around to the woman. She wore a mask hiding the lower half of her face, but not her eyes. He knew she saw him; felt the buckshot for her shotgun spatter harmlessly across his face like so many little buzzing gnats, then he was on hr. She had time enough to gasp, one that became a yelp now as he ripped the rifle from her grasp and flung it away.
"What the hell?!"
An open palm struck her chest-gently, John, wouldn't do to break her now- and her back slammed into a railing. Stepping to her, he grabbed both ends and wrapped them around her chest securely, allowing her to breathe, yet binding her in place all the same.
"There." he stood and dusted his hands off, feeling quite proud of himself. "That oughta hold you."
"You Vought asshole!" she shrieked at him shrilly. "Let me go!"
"Now, now, there's no need for language-
His sixth sense squawked a warning, not that there was any real danger.
Rounds spattered harmlessly off his back. He turned to face her partner, mildly amused by the attempt.
A blond brow rose. "Had enough?"
The man swore and fumbled for another clip. "Sonuva-
John pressed a finger to his lips. "Shush."
With his free hand smacked it out grasp hand and delivered a quick chop to their neck, leaving them to crumple at his feet. A brief check of the man's pulse confirmed that he was alive; just unconscious. Good. He'd live to regret his actions.
'Thanks for the anatomy lessons, old man.'
It was hard to hold back; harder than he would've liked. People were squishy, he had to actively restrain himself to keep from breaking bones. Even then it was an effort; he didn't want to think what it would've been like if he was unprepared. It would've been a massacre. But he was prepared, he was well-adjusted, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
Focus down, complete the mission, but keep an open mind. That wasn't the Vought way -fuck Vought!- but it was the ninja way.
A fierce little flare of pride bloomed in his chest. He'd done good. He was doing good.
Now then, time to get to the bottom of this. Where were the rest-ah.
He saw them through the walls. They'd sealed themselves in.
Clever, but not clever enough.
It was simple to reach them, easy to blast down their barricade. A quick application of his heat vision and it was done. Smoke billowed beneath his feet as he strode inside. He could've flown, but that would've made him seem above it all, untouchable. They wouldn't sympathize with someone like that. So, walking it was.
He took them in at a glance. Three hostages, and three shooters. Two men. One woman.
"My name's Homelander." he held up his hands, keeping his voice low. "I'm not here to hurt anyone."
"Don't come any closer!" their bearded leader jammed a pistol to the skull of an executive. "We'll kill them."
He would, too. The man's heart was beating a mile a moment. He was terrified. They all were. The entire room was a powder keg, ready to go up at the slightest spark. Desperation made people do truly terrible things he knew, but this baffled even him. Did they truly think this was the only way forward?
"Eaaasy there." he dared a step forward. "You don't wanna pull that trigger, trust me. This is no way to effect change. Lets just put our guns down and talk."
"What did you do to Tedd and Liz?!"
"I've incapacitated them." Another step, now. "They're quite alright-
"Liar! FUCK YOU FASCIST!" The woman opened fire, which of course encouraged the other two to unload on him.
John weathered the attack in stoic silence. There were...so many ways he could've killed them, then. In another lifetime he would've done so without a second thought. But at the end of the day he wasn't that man, wasn't that Homelander. He never had been. Never would be.
He was just John.
Closing his eyes, he crossed both arms before his chest and rode out the storm of lead in stoic silence, waiting for his opportunity. He could take this. He was made of steel. He was invincible. The hostages weren't. So he stood. Smiled. Waited now, until their guns clicked empty. And now that they'd spend their bullets on him...
"My turn, now."
He darted between the gunmen, snatched up their weapons and crumpled them into a useless little metal ball. In the time it took them to blink -to breathe!- it was over. For good measure he squeezed that ball of metallic lead further still, flattening it into a fine metal sphere barely the size of a penny. He lobbed over his shoulder. Best not to allow them any semblance of self defense, now.
"Surrender peacefully and I'll see your case taken to the highest level." he held out his right hand to them. "You have my word."
"This won't solve anything!" The leader shouted and raged at him, dragging a hostage upright. "We're not the bad guys! They're killing our kids! It isn't right!"
It really wasn't. His heart was a furnace, burning and churning like the sun itself in his chest, baking him in its heat. John took ahold of his emotions and shoved them down, buried them deep. Once more he stood his ground, this time, as the leader rushed him in a righteous rage.
Idiot.
This wasn't an anime.
You couldn't brute force your way out.
"But what you did here was still wrong." he took a punch on the jaw, sighed now as the man broke his hand on his chin. "Also, you shot me, not knowing if I was bulletproof. Not to mention that physical assault just now. A little hypocritical, don't you think? Did you honestly expect this to end any other way? Hell, I could all of you here and now." his smile never wavered, but he let a little edge creep into it. "None of you would be able to stop me...
The woman looked fit to spit at that, but the other two shooters wilted in defeat.
He could see their heartbeats. They were terrified of him.
...but that's not what heroes do."
What would dad do? The answer came to him in the form of an epiphany. He'd save everyone he could and tell Vought to go fuck itself. An idea dawned. A marvelous mad scheme, something that would have made Maeve groan and Naruto cackle. He was a hero. Heroes did the right thing, no matter the cost. Let the public castigate him. He didn't give a damn.
"Alright." he took and let the anger go with it. "How long would it take this company to build a new reactor?
The leader looked to the woman beside him. "Months, maybe? Years at least."
"And if the land itself is destroyed?" he asked aloud. "Scorched earth?"
He saw the spark of realization in the man's eye. "Decades...
Time in which dad could put pressure on the company and prevent a tragedy like this from ever happening again. He had all the proof he needed right here.
The leader stepped to him, cradling his broken hand. "How do we know we can even trust you?"
"Because you know me." he thumped his chest fiercely with a clenched fist. "I just joined up with Vought today, sure, but that doesn't change who I am. I'm a hero. Its in my Bones. And a true hero never goes back on his word. I'll give you mine here and now. This factory will never open again. Now, then. I left two of yours down below. Get them and get clear. Free your hostages, deactivate that damn jammer, and surrender yourselves to the police outside. You'll have your day in court. I'll see to it personally.
The trio looked amongst themselves, conferring for a moment. "We will...
One of said hostages, a balding man, balked. "You're just going to let them go?!"
"I am." he nodded as they went about untying the lot of them. "And I'm shutting this place down."
"But you can't!" one of the captives cried out. "You work for Vought! You're supposed to save us, not them! What about our jobs?!"
"I have saved you." he glared down at them, eyes smoldering with heat. "These were the acts of desperate people. They took this path because they felt they had no other choice. I promised I'd see their case taken to the highest level if they surrendered. And they have. As for you, you'll be compensated."
"You can't do this! You filthy-
He drove a fist into their gut. They folded like wet cardboard.
"Anyone else?" He looked to the remaining hostages.
A woman with dark-hair shook her head fiercely. "N-No. Oh god, no."
"No gods here, ma'am." he beamed at her. "The only man in the sky here is me. If I say this place is done, its done."
"Well said," a new voice chimed directly behind him. "You have your father's morals, if nothing else. I wonder if you possess the same sort of speed...
Whomever they were, they were fast. Very fast.
John's first coherent thought was to pivot, placing himself between the people. It almost got him killed. He whirled a heartbeat too late, narrowly catching a fist that would've slammed into his skull. He found himself facing a man wearing a dark robe. He couldn't see their face properly but their smile, that awful smile split their face from cheek to cheek and those eyes, good lord the eyes...
"Good," they laughed at him, an awful noise devoid of sanity. "Very good! You might actually be a challenge. But are you as strong as him?"
The temperature in the room spiked, growing oppressively hot.
A wide, toothy grin split his foe's face. "Lets find out."
Then his world erupted into fire.
A/N: Act Two begins with a bang.
I wonder if you know who attacked John?
Good Guy Homelander is here to stay, and he's not afraid to throw his weight around.
Hope you enjoyed~!
As ever, the Embers rule persists. If folks don't like this? Well, I won't continue it. So by all means, speak up! Raise your voice! Make yourself heard! Your reviews matter! Really, they do! That's no joke. I don't have days off anymore -two jobs will do that to you- and I'm working myself to the bone.
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(Previews)
Reviews are my fuel. I can't write without them~! Not a wit or a word!
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas... ...Review, Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the previews! Granted some are still far off, but...
And as ever:
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
SPOILERS AHEAD!
BEWARE~!
(Previews!)
Naruto saw the mushroom cloud from afar. "Well, shit. That can't be good...
"He hit you! What are you going to do about it?!"
John's eyes blazed red.
"HIT 'EM HARDER!"
...had to be me. Someone else would've gotten it wrong."
"I only have one father."
"You'll die!"
...no, I won't. A man doesn't die when he's dead. He dies when he's forgotten."
"Little John. Little hero. Pah!" his advesary -the monster!- laughed at him in spite of the wounds he'd inflicted upon them. "You think you're strong. No, no, no." it shook its head, tittering softy. "There are horrors out there you cannot BEGIN to comprehend...and things far worse than death. Why don't you ask daddy dearest...if he's still alive."
R&R~!