FOREWORD

Years ago, I read Garth Ennis' controversial (but what work of his isn't?) comic book series The Boys. I have to admit, as much as the satire and a few of the characters appealed to me, it actually repulsed me. Recently, I decided to watch the recent adaptation of it, and while less rough around the edges, it was a somewhat bleak show that was hard to watch, and that was just the first episode.

Yet I have read a number of fanfics based on the series, particularly NeonZangetsu's swathe of Naruto crossovers, and the rather satisfying multi-crossover anthology 64356743 Ways to Kill Homelander by cornholio4. It was cornholio4's work that inspired me, and while they have little familiarity with the crossovers I suggested, they gave me permission to do this oneshot, in a not-dissimilar style, where Momonga/Ainz, who, I would suggest, is a lighter shade of darkness compared to Homelander. What's more, I also wanted to emulate the feel of the Death Battle episode pitting Homelander against Omni-Man from Invincible. This is less about whether Homelander can win, and more about how long Momonga will draw out the battle.

Incidentally, the title, Übermensch, is meant to be something of a play on words and concepts here. It literally means 'superman', and while Homelander embodies the worst aspects of this concept by Nietzsche, especially how it was perverted by the Nazis, Momonga, by comparison, embodies a few of its more positive aspects, as much as Momonga can, anyway.

Anyway, time for the usual disclaimers. First, there will be spoilers, as well as quite a bit of horror, language and violence. I mean, seriously, this is a crossover of The Boys and Overlord, what did you expect?

Finally, the following is a fan-based work. The Boys and Overlord are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, Homelander will flash-fry you and everyone you cared for, so you'd better hope for Omni-Man to stop him...

ÜBERMENSCH

John Gillman, better known to his formerly-adoring public as Homelander, leader and star superhero of the Seven, was not happy. Then again, this was rather like saying the ocean was wet. The past little while had been one disaster or humiliation or defeat after another, and it said a lot about how blindingly angry he was that he had achieved a perverse, albeit metastable, serenity. Though at the moment, all he could do was lie in this crater he had dug up on hitting the ground in the middle of some fucking desert, overwhelmed with pain, trying to move again.

He wasn't sure where it had begun to go all wrong. It was not long after that blonde bimbo joined, Starlight. Oh, she wasn't directly responsible, his meagre reserves of rationality assured him of that, though he felt she was a fucking albatross whose arrival still heralded everything going wrong.

Specifically, there was the advent of some new superhero team…well, vigilantes, as they weren't under the aegis of Vought International. It was easy enough to label them as villains: two of their number looked like demons, another was some sort of bloodsucking bitch, and there was that huge insect thing. And yet, rumours came out about how well these so-called villains were treating innocent civilians.

Vought soon had a competitor: Nazarick, a corporation whose ascension was ridiculously fast. And suspiciously so. They claimed to have their own superhero team, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Vought's attempts to shut them down were countered by Nazarick managing to dig up old anti-trust laws. So Vought fought dirty, trying to assassinate its leadership and heroes, all while making more public displays of friendly competition. It didn't work. Vought then began trying to frame them of terrorism, using their so-called heroes as proxies, but Nazarick countered most attempts, and even fired back. Where they'd gotten the evidence for Homelander killing the Mayor of Baltimore and his family, or the debacle that was Transoceanic Flight 37, Homelander didn't know, but they did.

Nazarick seemed to hold all the cards, but Vought was confident they could deal with them. They had so many trump cards, especially in the Seven. But Translucent was found, little more than skin, seemingly eaten from the inside out, by some sort of bug like a cockroach, after he was sent to infiltrate Nazarick. The Deep disappeared, though a note stained with his blood was sent back to the Seven with "He disagreed with something that ate him" on it(1).

For some reason, Homelander thought that the fate of A-Train seemed somewhat…personal. He'd disappeared, only to turn up, completely broken. Whatever tortures he had suffered, he wouldn't say, nor would he ever be able to. It was as if the soul had fled, and the flesh remained, alive, for a given value of the word, but in no fit state to be a hero anymore, or indeed anything. In that condition, A-Train would envy a vegetable.

Maeve and Black Noir would eventually defect to Nazarick. Starlight, on the other hand, had simply left the Seven altogether. Any attempt at bringing her back had…consequences.

Eventually, Vought declared all-out war on Nazarick. It was a desperate move, but they had been pushed into a corner, and while no proof could be actually found, plenty could be manufactured and shown off on the various media outlets Vought owned. And in truth, Homelander was ready to go to war anyway. It was about time that these pricks learned who was truly above everyone, who was the übermensch, the superman. Stormfront would claim he was the Aryan ideal, but Homelander knew he was above all of humanity, and that included those Nazi retards. Though she was a good lay, anyway.

Oddly enough, they got a tipoff from that nutjob Billy Butcher, the one who was so butthurt about his wife and what Homelander did to her. While suspicious, the intel seemed to pan out. In hindsight, Butcher had either joined forces with Nazarick, was simply helping them, or was coerced or controlled into doing so. That's what Homelander thought, anyway.

Said thoughts were interrupted when a hooded and berobed figure, looking like Lamplighter, appeared on the rim of the crater. The robes were black and purple, looking like some evil sorcerer, while clutched in his hand was a staff of gold, adorned with jewels. Homelander had to admit, it looked great, if a touch gaudy.

Still, he needed to do something. Even while paralysed by pain, he had at least one card to play. He fired off his heat vision, but the figure held off the attack with a single hand, palm facing him. Suddenly, the figure disappeared, and soon, Homelander was screaming in agony, blinded.

"Hmm…Peroroncino and Ulbert often espoused the virtues of pocket sand, not that you could do it in the game," the robed figure mused.

"BASTARD! FIGHT ME FAIR AND SQUARE!" Homelander screamed, trying to use a sonic shout.

"Be silent. Hold Species." And suddenly, Homelander was paralysed. Unable to do anything. Impotent, but to do much more than breathe or listen.

A sigh from the figure. "And fair and square, in your mind, is for me to die, and for you to win. Because you, like any and all bullies, only consider a fair fight to be one where you win, all the time, every time."

And what the fuck is wrong with that?! Homelander wanted to scream in his face. But he couldn't. He had a mouth, and he wanted to scream. I'm Homelander! That means I get to do whatever the fuck I want!

"God, you remind me of them, all those PvPers who ganged up on me until Touch Me saved me," the voice said. "Self-righteous bastards, though even they would have baulked at committing murder and rape in reality. You, however, for all that you present yourself as a god amongst men, are lower than filth. I mean, your lover is a Nazi. An actual Nazi. Wow. I mean, I can't talk, given the uniform I gave Pandora's Actor, but I only gave him the uniform, not the racism."

What the actual fuck was he talking about? Was that gaming terminology? And how dare he look down on him?!

"The thing is, I learned something of your past thanks to Pandora's Actor infiltrating Vought. I would pity you, except given what you became, I can only despise you. True, it would be hypocritical denouncing you as a monster, when I've become one myself. But I want to bring about peace and happiness, whereas you view the world simply as your toybox. True, too many Supers do so, but, no matter what Butcher thinks, there are good ones amongst you. I tried to get Annie to join our cause, but…she was somewhat self-righteous and moralistic. The best I could wring out of her was that she would let me clean house, take you out. If Ainz Ooal Gown stepped out of line, though, she would step up to try and stop us in what would be a gloriously futile gesture, but I respect that. She reminds me a little of Touch Me, that saving people in trouble is only proper. Ah, sorry, I am digressing. I wanted to let you in on a secret. I've made sure that nobody can see this battle unless I want them to."

Homelander wanted to rage, and to scream. He didn't want to hear this fucker's life story. But it seemed he would regardless.

"…I'm sure you'd find it hard to believe, but I had another life, in another world, one where many corporations like Vought existed, ruining the world through pollution. Yggdrasil, a game, was all I had. I stayed on until it shut down. I must have died, because I didn't remember who I was, until A-Train killed my girlfriend Robin."

And that's when it clicked for Homelander. Oh, he didn't know the whiny bitch's name, but he did vaguely recall the incident in question, A-Train making crude jokes about it. So this was revenge? But what was that horseshit about having lived another life?

"Have you ever seen what happens when a human-shaped supersonic projectile hits a human body, Homelander?" the figure asked, his tone deceptively mild. "I was left holding her severed hands. The rest of her turned into soup. The trauma did something to me. I ended up waking up in the hospital with one of Vought's lawyers trying to strongarm me into signing an NDA with a compensation cheque thrown in, and that useless waste of skin I call a father in this life acting as his accomplice. I refused at first, or rather, I told that suit I would think about it. I spent time getting reacquainted with my loyal followers, the former NPCs of my guild, now living beings. And then, Billy Butcher showed me that footage, of A-Train laughing and mocking the death of Robin. I…snapped. But I didn't want to do things with Butcher and his little cheersquad. Oh, we cooperated, though we didn't trust each other. I wanted to do things my way. I won't bore you with the details, that's just how we ended up here."

It wasn't fair! All this, because A-Train couldn't stop in time to avoid liquifying some dumb cunt who stepped out onto the road? That was the reason Homelander was like this, powerless and impotent?

"Now, I wanted to prolong your demise, Homelander, but I had to be satisfied with beating the shit out of you, far away from any innocent civilians," the figure said. "Your reputation is destroyed, your misdeeds laid bare, and here you are, broken and gasping in pain. I considered so many ways to kill you, but I decided, after I got the rather cathartic beating out of the way, I would destroy your body utterly. Just to make sure Vought's remnants can't salvage you, or any relics of you can be obtained." Geometric shapes and circles appeared, outlined in white light, orbiting the figure. The glow finally illuminated his quarry's features, a face meant for more pensive and nervous expressions, now twisted in cold contempt, like Homelander was inferior, an insect, a bug to be squashed.

And now, Homelander recognised him. The robes were those of a man known as Momonga, the chief hero of Nazarick, but his face was that of its CEO, Hughie Campbell. A nobody who had risen to the top. They were one and the same.

Hughie Campbell smirked, even as he readied what looked like an hourglass. "If there is a Hell, I'm sure Stormfront is keeping a corner of it warm for you, Homelander, as my new girlfriend is not one to keep me waiting. It's time to join her." He crushed the hourglass, and roared, "SUPER-TIER MAGIC: FALLEN DOWN!"

Homelander had just enough time to retort, in his head at least, that that was a stupid fucking name for an attack. Then, a column of boiling hot actinic light burned into existence in his location, and his last seconds on Earth were spent in unbearable agony. Then, oblivion ate at his consciousness, in the form of that burning, blinding, boiling light…


The blinding light of the Super-Tier spell died away, revealing a glass-lined crater, much deeper than the previous one. Nothing was left of Homelander, or indeed much of the ground for a considerable radius. Just glass, molten sand.

Still, Momonga reflected as he looked around the desert landscape, even this landscape was more beautiful than anything that had been on his previous world. The corporations hadn't ruined this world yet. BluePlanet would have given an arm and a leg to be here. And if Momonga could help it, the corporations never would. Especially not Vought.

It was a shame that it took Robin's death to awaken what slept within him. And he doubted Robin would like what he had become. Then again, Hughie Campbell had died that day, when his psyche fused with that of the salaryman formerly known as Satoru Suzuki. Now, as Momonga, he was no longer powerless.

Though unlike those so-called superheroes peddled by Vought, he wanted to do good. True, it was hard, being in charge of former NPCs, many of whom were evil, who wished to conquer the world in his name. But he'd managed to bring them around to his way of thinking, even if he had to twist the truth somewhat.

Speak of the devil, or rather, the Succubus…an armoured, winged figure descended to the ground next to him, holding a massive axe in her hands. For the figure was female, even if the armour obscured almost every feminine aspect, save for a sculpted breastplate and the curve of her figure. She took her helmet off, revealing a peerless beauty, framed by long silky black locks. Yet she was far from human, the white horns and the golden eyes with slit pupils betraying that fact.

"Lord Momonga, I have dealt with that most odious woman," the armoured Succubus said, her voice a sultry purr. She pulled something out of her inventory space, and tossed it to his feet, where it sizzled. It was a cooked lump of meat, one scarcely recognisable as a human head. "The rest of her body is currently cooking within the caldera of Kīlauea, assuming it hasn't disintegrated in the lava completely. I took her head to ensure you knew the deed had been done."

"Excellent work, Albedo," Momonga said. He unleashed a fire spell to finish the job, turning Stormfront's charred head into ashes. "And the others?"

"Our…hostile takeover of Vought International is almost complete," Albedo said. "Pandora's Actor and Demiurge helped immensely in working out not only their security protocols, but also where their finances were, including the more dubious ones. Still, was it wise to allow Butcher and his little group to go free?"

"They can do nothing to harm us. In addition, I have gotten Butcher what he wanted: Homelander dead, and his wife back, along with her son. If Butcher cannot accept young Ryan, then that is his own fault. And if he decides to betray us, well, it wouldn't be the first poor decision he made, but it would certainly be his last."

"And the January woman?"

"Let her go for now. Keep an eye on her, by all means, and ensure she is protected…but take no action against her. Starlight has suffered enough thanks to Vought. She deserves a chance to be the hero she should be."

As Albedo nodded in acceptance, Momonga felt wistful about that matter. Annie was a good woman, one who was a paragon of morality, who wanted to be a superhero for all the right reasons. But she also held onto her morality a little too much. Whereas the likes of Billy Butcher had been willing to sacrifice almost anything to get his revenge.

He remembered something Punitto Moe told him, about the Nietzschean concept of the Übermensch, the Superman. It meant not some superior man in physical or mental ability. Rather, it meant being able to go beyond the constraints of the world, and do as one chose to. If Momonga chose to be somewhat moral, then it was his choice. But it also meant accepting the consequences of his actions, something Homelander and his ilk never did.

It was so easy to destroy. But it would be a worthy challenge still to build a new world, one he hoped his former guildmates in Yggdrasil would be proud of. Time would tell. But with the power and immortality he had, he had all the time in the world…

THE END

ANNOTATIONS:

Well…the sad thing is, the world of The Boys may see some actual improvement. Or not, if the NPCs of Nazarick decide otherwise.

As mentioned before, this story was partly inspired by 64356743 Ways to Kill Homelander by cornholio4 (and whom I'd like to thank for giving me permission, despite their lack of interest in doing an Overlord crossover), as well as the Death Battle episode pitting Homelander against Omni-Man. I hope I did that justice, and I recommend both works for you guys.

Also, is it me, or does Jack Quaid's take on Hughie seem like a Caucasian take on what Momonga looks like IRL? Yes, I know there are canon depictions in the manga and in the anime compilation film, but there's something about Quaid's take on Hughie, of someone who's got all that pent-up resentment and rage, as well as looking uncomfortable in his own skin, that seems very Momonga-like.

I also mentioned it only in passing, but Hughie's father (played by Simon Pegg, who was originally going to be Hughie, and whose likeness was the basis for Hughie in the comics) is compared to Satoru Suzuki's mother. I mean, the poor woman died while trying to fix up a birthday meal for Momonga, while Hughie's father, for all his well-meaning, is pathetic, from what I've seen so far.

I wrote things very vaguely, as I am only broadly aware of the events in The Boys, both in the comics and in the TV show. Any inconsistencies can be chalked down to butterflies. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, regardless.

1. A reference to the note put onto Felix Leiter after a shark mauls him in the James Bond novel Live and Let Die, which was used for the film License to Kill.