Changing Tides 1.1

"You're not fucking fooling me, mate," Butcher said with a bit of heat in his words.

He then proceeded to down his shot a lot more forcibly as his companion huffed.

"I'm not. Why do you think people do what they do? It's not as complex as you're thinking it to be. Power is simply just an expression that people have, those who have it express more than the typical person. It's just their way of being human."

"Power isn't a fucking way for someone to go scot-free without any consequences just because they can bully the system, or that they're popular enough to get away with it and the world doesn't want to tarnish the idealized version that any sissy little cunt worships because they're supposedly heroes," Butcher added as he was now beginning to sneer. "You're not a goddamn Messiah for being that way, you're just a pretender doing it because you have the ability to."

"You say that as if that's not something real people do, with or without powers in the first place." The man said as William Butcher looked them straight in the eye. "If we're going to be frank with each other, I'm going to ask you the same thing that's been bugging you ever since we started talking. What exactly are you going to do if you did have powers? What exactly, are you, as a person, going to do with all that power knowing full well you can basically do everything?"

Butcher was about to say something, only for his own words to fall short on his lips as he let the question sink in. His bravado was still there. The hate, still lingering, but the question…

"You're not fooling me if you say that you're going to be a paragon. Or that you're the type to go balls deep in making sure that every obligation you perform is for the overall benefit of others… because it's not. I can see it in your eyes. I know them."

…the question and his following words hit deep.

"I know that if given the cause or ability to go forward in a quest or goal, the main desire is always selfish in nature. The main desire is always to find a means to stroke one's own ego. One's own image knowing full well that with each and every accomplishment, credit is given to you."

"Well, you're wrong about that… I ain't someone that chases fame like a dog trying to catch a car. I'm not like you, sad as that may seem." Butcher argued.

The man then laughed, making Butcher frown as the stranger began downing another shot.

"Sure… but with how much you hate Stars and Stripes that this country touts and worships, I'm sure that if given the chance you would relish the attention once the day comes that you prove to the world that he's a fraud… or an enemy. Whichever works, you'll be right there smiling whether you take the credit for it, or not." The man's words made Butcher stare, the rebuttal that he would usually carry with so much fervor was lost as he could not deny it, not even for a second.

"Fuck you. You don't know me." Butcher said, readying to leave before the man spoke again.

"On the contrary, I think I do. I pretty much do pal. You wanna know why?"

Butcher didn't answer.

"Because I've been there. I'm a sad excuse of a person that when given the chance was only there for the fame… for the glory. I relished in all the stories and feats given to my name and the ship I commanded, but almost every single feat attached to me isn't my own…" he then downs another shot.

"…and not a day goes by where I think that if I just did more or perhaps actually acted the part of being a reliable, stable person I would have done something to the girl that was forced to fall in love with me. I would have done something before my entire life crashed and burned, and I was left with nothing but a rotten ship, until the end of my days."

Butcher stiffened as the man laughed sarcastically as if recalling a terrible memory as he chugged a full bottle that he reached out of the broken bar stash and emptied it in seconds. He then smiled tragically before throwing the bottle away forcibly.

CRASH!

"I never learned to live past my selfishness because like everybody else… I'm still a Gods darned human. A human who turned everybody away because I was hyper-focused on making everything about me…" He then turned to Butcher, smiling at him much to Butcher's own discomfort both with the conversation and for himself, as if it was a mirror he was looking back on. "…what hero is that huh?"

Butcher sighed as he looked at the man, steadying himself back in the seat beside him.

"That's your excuse… for how shitty your kind are? For all the terrible things that supes have done to people?" he asked the man.

"No, it was never an excuse. I'm just simply stating that none of us could have done better. Not you… not me… not even my friends but at the very least they try compared to me. They're trying to be better, and I'm still stuck as I am, nothing but a closeted fraud knowing he's insufficient compared to the rest."

"Well… I guess I can't blame you for thinking that way nor with what you think of me." Butcher admitted as he began slowly self-reflecting. "I still don't believe you mate." He added as the man laughed.

"Mm… If you don't believe me, at the very least trust my friends. They're imperfect as well, leading complicated lives, but if there's one thing that you can count on with them, it's that they're always there to do the job with the best of intentions." The man proudly said with a slur to his words, but his tone was genuine and heartfelt.

"Best of intentions? Not for the cliched, greater good?" Butcher asked as a joke.

"Greater good is overrated. At the very least you can count on them as not being fake with what they wish to do, and that's to make a difference." The man proudly said at the behest of his honesty and Butcher saw that despite his apparent selfishness, the trust and overall sincerity he had in appraising his comrades was surprisingly uplifting. If not melodramatic.

William Butcher still did not trust capes, but the words that the man said to him earlier stuck to him the most. "You're awfully chatty with a stranger you just met."

The man sipped another glass that was abandoned by a guest as the trashed remains of the casino around them were still unresolved. The illegal drug trade that a Vought Supe was connected to was busted by the man beside Butcher and two other heroes under Olympia.

This inevitably saved him as well, as his goal was to gain evidence for this said Vought Supe and he would have been dead had it not been for this man's intervention as he took out not just the Vought Supe himself but the entire group of men that were involved with the drug trade that were present.

All of that while inebriated as his comrades began resolving the nearly half a million mess the man had recklessly created in just minutes.

He would be impressed if it were not for the fact that the man was one of Olympia's lot. Still, he could not help but feel pity for the man, even if most of what their conversation entailed was basically ludicrous ramblings of an insane fucker.

"You're a stranger, that basically makes it better. You'd sooner forget than this than give a shit, so why not I just let things out, so that I won't feel sad about myself when I'm alone." The man said as Butcher's frown deepened. Remembering his own time when he acted like that. It helps that he said the same things to some people while drunk too, even if it was not one-to-one.

"Anyway… if you want any advice from me, it's just to stop being obsessed with something. You'll regret it all in the end I tell you and nothing's more painful when every bridge you burn bites you back in the ass once the Fates decide your time's up." The man added as he began playing the handle of his sword while he settled his head on the bar.

"Yeah sure… whatever you say," Butcher replied as he looked at his own empty glass.

Then they heard someone sniffing.

"T-That was wonderful Lord Jason, t-thank you for being so kind to us… your family in the Argo." A sad and tearful voice said behind the both of them as Butcher's companion, apparently named Jason comically widened his eyes in panic as he sat ramrod straight in his seat.

"Aphrodite's Tits! You heard all of that?!" he screamed as the little girl jumped and started embracing him tightly. Jason started choking as he was seemingly overpowered by the crying girl's grip.

"I'm so happy you value us so much, Lord Jason! We don't deserve you!" the girl happily said in tears as Butcher watched in confusion.

"No! Stop! G-Get me out of your-ACK!"

He was promptly dragged away as William Butcher was left to his lonesome.

Despite the rather strange exchange, at the end, he looked at his shot glass and began thinking.

He grunted as he thought about Becca before he stood up and walked away.

William Butcher splashed water on his face as he looked at himself in the mirror.

A plethora of Aspirin pills dotted the hotel bathroom he was in after he finished taking a shower after a long night of planning and drinking. Mostly drinking.

For what reason? He didn't know truly himself. He was about to arrive at one of the most prestige parties in North America and he did not have his head straight on, or if it even was in the first place for how many days now. Misery seemed to cling to him because of one simple conversation…

With a supe that made way too much sense with what he was saying.

His heart was still in the mission for memories of Becca still lingered deep inside of him, but he couldn't help but feel as if the focus and drive that he once had was inexplicably hampered because he was now starting to see the sad state of a man that he was already.

He continued to brush his teeth as he eyed the clothes that Raynor sent to him as well as the many plans that he stored in his head. The mission was at its core, simple. Too simple that he didn't need to go into the process of complicatedly getting into this party in the first place. Yet, his gut instinct told him to and despite having doubts these last few weeks, he was still drawn to it like a goddamn dog.

Grabbing the two devices, cylindrical-like in appearance that Raynor gave to him, he started thinking over the flow of his whole timeline. Normally he would just wing it, with most of the planning strapped right into his head, but the warning Raynor gave him was too serious to lackadaisically ignore. He had contacts of course, Frenchie was still close by and a call or a meetup would make things work, MM was in another state after the whole deal with Olympia's Green Haired fucker who helped rebuild the local homes destroyed from a hurricane, but he knew that he would respond despite old grudges. There was also Vasili in Moscow if he needed to get off-country, but that old fucker was more focused on his little business nowadays other than helping out.

He had contacts in the old SAS that he could call, but that was the last resort and he didn't want to involve more people than needed given how much of a clusterfuck his objective had been at the start.

Olympia was certainly making rounds and if the words from Mesmer were any indication (after he merked the poor sod a month ago) that meant Supes were not natural in any circumstance whatsoever and they were created artificially. He was berated of course by poor ol' Raynor when he already had a specimen in the form of Mesmer but his corpse was already contaminated and due to his 'weak' constitution to this mythical 'formula' his body was less impressive than what a full-blown supe would contain within their blood.

Full-blown, in this case, were people like Homelander, the Seven, or hell, the freakshows of Olympia who were basically monsters in human form. Whatever variant they possessed, seemed to be stellar in terms of progress compared to Vought's, and more questions were created around that, especially with the existence of the famous Caster who was basically the God of Medicine in the modern day.

Finding a target to successfully take specimens from was hard, especially with how Olympia was forcing each and every supe to man up and do their dues. Altruism was a good thing, if only for the public, and Butcher knew deep down that none of it was done without an ulterior motive, even if Olympia was simply 'clean' and 'honest' with the world.

Finishing up the final touches on his clothes, he thought about how this wasn't his first choice at all in getting any sort of clearance to get these specimens. What drove him to do so was the fact that this was the first time the big heads of both Vought and Olympia were to be in one place and due to Olympia's tendency to be much more secretive, which raised many eyebrows in the first place. One of them being him. He didn't buy the good guy acts nor the fact that they were solving or doing a lot for the world. Nobody was that kind.

Not even the blonde fucker, Jason was his name admitted so.

Perhaps this night would not have happened if he got that sod to volunteer for his blood, but… maybe he wasn't supposed to go into this gala in the first place, and this was just him trying to justify a stupid plan over a stupid obsession.

"Fuck." He cursed as he was now at the door of his hotel room. Ready to leave.

His cover was one of the investors in a company tied to the Federal Government in all but name. Thankfully due to the non-publicized nature of the gala, it eliminated all the media vultures that would typically go. Security was tight, tight enough that he needed serious cover for this while piggybacking the agency's own attempt at trying to make connections with Olympia through that company.

Especially with Olympia's second most sought-after person, the infamous Matriarch of Orphan Children in the West. Their heroes were still the prime candidates of course, but the value that Caster had in his own expertise (an expertise that made him worry all the same) and the value of an international symbol of peace and love for children was something that any person with power, even the most cynical ones would salivate over.

The itinerary called for a few undisclosed Olympia heroes to be present, with Vought, the one who sponsored and headed the gala in 'honor' of the Green Archer, publicly given which of their own heroes were present. Strangely, the itinerary didn't mention Homelander, just the Deep, Queen Maeve, Translucent, and more strangely, Lamplighter who was supposed to retire soon.

The lineup looked weaker in comparison to whoever Olympia would bring along, but it said a lot in terms of how Vought was no longer the top dog in the business given that they were not even dragging their golden boy along. Said manchild, being the only one in their roster that was actively doing things in lieu of their brand as 'heroes'.

Inevitably William Butcher decided that he needed to go. He was no pussy that would just back out after everything that occurred so far. He was ready regardless of what would happen because his heart was already dead set on this path.

All for his late wife.

"You have to learn to love yourself too, baby," Becca says as she strokes his face.

"I already have you… and that's enough. You're my world Becca and that's all that matters."

"It matters a lot when I'm not there… how would you survive without me?" she joked as they both laughed and shared a kiss. One of their lasts.

Butcher opened the door of his hotel room and began walking away.

Becca was right.

Fucking Jason was right.

After a short walk to the lobby of the prestigious hotel Vought owned, he joined with his contacts who gave him a subtle nod. With the rest of them ready to leave they ventured forward. Seeing the already long line of pretentious rich twats that were dressed in their million-dollar dresses and ties, he knew that the night would go just swell.

"Oh, I feel very honored to be invited tonight when so many can't. Primarily I'm quite excited to meet Olympia's Archer with all the love in my heart because she's just a symbol you know? A hero that everybody can look up to." Translucent said, the fucker keeping his invisible form intact as his floating glasses made the smiling reporter much more open for a one-night stand.

A dozen or so business-related cunts were talking around them as cameras and such began beaming in and flashing within every second. The Deep was also animatedly talking to two talk show hosts that Butcher used to watch with Becca back in the day as he and Lamplighter laughed with all their fake smiles and bravado while they ascended the red-carpeted stairs. The stairs lead to a very pretty and strangely less-shiny-looking aesthetic to the gala's entrance. As if Vought were doing their damnest to make the infamous Archer much more welcome by making it less snobby or wealthy-like in appearance.

If anything, this aesthetic looked kind of welcoming as if the world was less cynical than it probably was. Various business corporations showed up, some Butcher no longer knew but the best he could say was that they were practically people that could be seen in Forbes magazine, that pretentious schlock that only stroked these people's ego further.

Queen Maeve looked very miserable in the corner, even with her 'date' he presumed, a man that Vought probably just picked off from the street just for his good looks due to the absence of Homelander, was not blending in. Her image nowadays took a hit due to all of the bad PR surrounding how 'mean' or 'sour' she was on the field and it looked like that was still the case here. Why Vought chose to keep her is anybody's guess, but the kooky PR girl Ashley, from Raynor's intel was doing the talking for her.

Thankfully given that Butcher's cover was just a faceless investor, their group was less attracted to by the reporters and the press and they passed without much of a fuss. Once they arrived at the top of the entrance….

"She's arrived!" one of the reporters said as various flashes and the general commotion of the arrival of this person ramped up within the gala's entrance. People flooded down the steps orderly but excitedly. Some even left their posts or interviews, or in the case of some of the Vought heroes, abandoned outright as Olympia's heroes finally arrived.

"Hey! I'm not done with my interview. I mean, do you want me to comment or take pictures with Archer later?" Translucent yelled at the woman interviewing him as she dashed away, not even responding back much to the man's drooping disappointment. It was amusing, though the new big-name supes were also being flocked to by the Vought Heroes as well.

Especially when heading their entire procession, as if a royal family was to come to attendance, was the Green Archer herself, and her partner, the infamous hero of Florida himself. The one MM gladly volunteered to help to work with along with a bunch of his reformed companions from the local penitentiary he was working at. The two looked surprisingly simple yet elegant with their wear.

Even to Butcher's eyes, it was acceptable or at least it was given how bad he was at fashion.

Though he knew Becca would have relished their appearances.

Frowning, he continued to watch as reporters flocked to the newly arrived heroes. Flanking them were Olympia personnel in their own suits as they kept the reporters away from bugging them. Though some of them smiled and waved like they were born to all the praise.

They moved by pair, man, and woman equally.

Archer and the green-haired hero of Florida which was also called Rider…

Fuck Olympia and their naming conventions. It's all goddamn confusing.

The two appeared like siblings, lovers, or family. He didn't give a shit. However, he had to give them credit since the woman herself was focused, linear and even bothered to go to this event knowing what she was well-known for, and she possibly thought this was all unnecessary. Good for her for being consistent. The other green-haired fucker was much more comfortable with all of this and was a pillar that seemed to make the woman much happier just because of his presence.

The two behind them were the infamous Lancer herself, the prime heroine everybody was talking about wearing a white dress, which was much more revealing but classy in its design. His thoughts on the woman were complex but her brash attitude, her give-no-fucks nature, and her objectively effective track record were solid in his book. She reminded him of himself actually with how jolly and energetic she was on the job when needed and despite the secretive nature of Olympia's heroes, he heard quite a lot about how 'down to earth' and friendly she was underneath it all. Making it hard to make any sort of progress in investigating her background.

Or at least the kind of background information that he could use.

She smiled at the people around her, fake as hell of course, but Butcher felt like she was much more displeased being part of this and was just there for appearances.

"Hey, what did I tell you? You're my partner for the night so act like it, man!" the woman cheerfully said to her partner as the shy-looking simple sod almost visibly blushed at her words.

"R-Right… sorry Lady Lancer." The boy, yes that poor sod is a boy, not a man said in his simple suit and tie that blended in more to Butcher's own faceless group than being an Olympian hero. Better yet, who was this guy? Why was he escorting a very popular heroine in Olympia's roster? Was this boy part of them since back then? Or was he new?

"Ugh… come on. If I'm going to find some enjoyment in this night, you're going to oblige me." the woman forcibly but supportively said with a small smile. One that would probably make the tabloids scream, especially now with all the flashes and questions that they both ignored as they walked along.

There were many rumors regarding that woman's love life, from Olympia's CEO to many more within Olympia itself and this poor boy is going to be hounded for that even if the relationship was merely friends at best.

Moving on, to the next pair there was also one of Olympia's Tech heads, he called himself Archer (like that's going to make everything understandable and less confusing), but he was well-known along with his Lion supe buddy in the tech industry, one that the US Feds were also salivating on getting their attention. Butcher's comrades on this little mission were already talking to each other about it.

Accompanying him, however, was someone he did not expect.

People called her Admiral, and she called herself Rider, but Butcher knew her as the big-titted woman who was famous for her crazy parties and high-seas rescues in the Atlantic. It was oddly welcoming seeing another Brit being famous overseas, especially with her personality and heart. He found no distinct bad history with the woman so far and any source he talked with said the same.

She wore a strangely modest outfit that hid just enough of her infamous cleavage but was formal in the sense of how it all looked. Her top flowed over behind her like an ornate cape which was finished with a set of white pants and a pair of white, high-heeled shoes. Out of all the ladies present, she had the most overall fancy-looking appeal, which did not undermine the rest.

She relished with the attention too, even stopping with her escort to take pictures.

Eventually, as they climbed the stairs, the scarred woman locked eyes with him and smiled.

Butcher did not know what that was about but he along with his companions began entering the gala while the CEO of Olympia finally arrived. He did not realize however that all of the Olympia heroes he saw, he barely had any bad things to say to.

Unbeknownst to Butcher, as soon as he and his comrades left the scene, Wodime already cataloged who was who in attendance. While he walked up the steps with the media taking pictures of him, he was having a mental conversation with another person across the next state.

He even stopped midway as Olympia personnel tried to push everybody away and a small frown appeared on his face. One that left him deep in thought as Assassin relayed him the report.

He continued walking up, returning back to wearing his public mask as the night grew heavier in his head. The night had just begun for all of them.

The food was okay.

It was the same as every rich party that these people always had. It reminded him how Becca used to come with him at these while the various CEOs and businesspeople began their speeches and toasts for the Green Archer behind him.

He was sitting beside Queen Maeve at the bar, where the woman kept drinking on her fourth glass already as he struck up a small conversation with her earlier. At that moment, however, she was listening to the sorry excuse of speeches as Butcher eyed the fifth glass that was unattended by the supe.

The party just started, and he already had an easy target in sight.

With the barkeep and everybody else watching the speeches go on, he pulled Maeve's glass towards him, subtly pulling a small bit of powder from his sleeves and secretly pouring it into the woman's drink. He kept his senses on alert as his comrades were also doing their best to strike conversation with Olympia's personnel and Butcher had the necessary skills to make sure he was unnoticed.

As he was finishing up to get back to Maeve for later he was go-

"You know… there are better ways to spike a woman's drink if you want to get in their pants." A teasing but low voice that few could hear suddenly said beside him as he turned his head and saw the Admiral…

Or in this case, Rider smiling with teeth bared in a teasing manner towards him.

He froze as he passively pulled the packet back and he tried to regain his footing.

"I don't know what you mean lady."

"Oh~… even better. A fellow Englishman is present." She said as she settled comfortably on the seat beside him as the Archer herself started to speak a little speech in front of the entire crowd at the party. "…so, what's the deal with a bloke like you?"

Her smile only made it worse as his mood became frigid.

Shit, not even half an hour in, and his cover was blown.

40 MINUTES EARLIER…

Heracles walked into position as soon as he arrived at the destination. The rural countryside of North America was still different compared to Greece, but the forests of this state made him feel at home. Even if the trees were distinctly not the type that he was used to, it was still massively freeing walking and running through it as he neared his target.

The intel that Chizome and Corday was what got him to this operation as Vought's facilities within the area incurred suspicion enough that his master tasked him to investigate closely. While he was not the most skilled assassin compared to his other comrades, his presence was assurance that should anything abnormal or anomalistic that Vought was attempting in their many testing facilities could be contained without issue.

It was a huge responsibility and while he did not judge the capabilities and strength of modern man, he knew that he was sufficient in handling any sort of threat should anything happen. Especially with how close this facility was to a nearby peaceful town down the road.

His patience with Vought was growing thin, especially with all the meetings held by his master along with the rest of Olympia's servants. One in particular got on his nerves, the 'superman' as called by the modern world. The Homelander.

He was steadily becoming someone that Heracles was getting to hate as more and more information flowed into Olympia's hands. He wanted to take action on those issues, but his master kept him at bay strictly, knowing that this was a different world, a different time and they had to be patient if they wanted things to pan out.

The great Hero of Greece sighed heavily as he climbed the tree to overlook a hundred meters exactly towards the facility that he was tasked to watch for the night while the others went to Atalanta's gala. The goal in general was to intervene should things go sour given that Chizome had reported heightened activity within the camp.

As soon as he found a sweet spot he settled himself down with good balance between the branches as he thought about being patient. Heracles was a simple man, a man who was once spiteful, rageful, and chaotic. Qualities that made up his life before he found his family.

His patience grew more and matured as time went by even as the Gods played with his life.

But deep down he just hated the injustices that these people created.

He was not a perfect hero.

Nor was he the championed paragon that many others after him had looked up to, he was simply another man that was played on by the Fates most compared to every other person in Greece.

Still, there were things he did not abide by, and these people were abusing them.

He moved his gaze towards the camp. His eyes focused with the sheer clarity of the Stymphalian Birds that he once hunted in his Sixth Labor. He could call upon them limitedly if need be in emergencies but for the duration of his stay in this time he was-

What?

Heracles eyes widened as smoke belched in great numbers at the camp that he was told to watch.

He stood up from his perch and let his gaze be more focused as he started seeing that the walls were scorched. A number of people were dead, and some were scrambling to stamp out the fires.

Heracles was confused…

Until a distinct sound made him turn his head.

BZWOOOOOOOOOOOUUU!

A red-focused beam of light blazed out into existence towards the sky before disappearing seconds later. Smoke and destroyed remains of buildings made Heracles' eyes open as he realized that it was the nearby town…

"Master I have something to report." He quickly said as he leaped to the ground and began running.

… the nearby town was under attack.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AN: I have decided to split this into three parts! Because there's a lot of character interactions to get into. With Wodime and his plan for the gala and the various Vought people there, with Caenis and Mandricardo enjoying the night, to Butcher and Drake and what follows.

Plus, we haven't even gotten to the good part with Herc and what's the whole deal with that hahahaah.

Hope you enjoyed!