Chapter 5: "Fissures in the Sky"
The towering skyscrapers of New York reflected the crimson sunset, painting the skyline in hues of red and gold. Superman hovered silently above the city, his cape billowing in the wind. Below, people bustled about, unaware of the seismic events that were about to unfold.
Since arriving in this world through the mysterious dimensional rift, Superman had been searching for answers, trying to piece together the nature of this strange new reality. Vought International was at the center of it. The Seven, their so-called heroes, were nothing like the ones from his world. Their actions were fueled by power, greed, and a thirst for control, not justice.
In the week since his arrival, Superman had rescued civilians from accidents, stopped a few violent incidents, and tried to keep a low profile while gathering information. However, it wasn't long before the public started to take notice of a new caped figure in the sky—a figure that wasn't part of Vought's roster. And soon enough, he knew, the confrontation he wanted to avoid would become inevitable.
He just didn't expect it to happen today.
Vought Tower – Homelander's Office
Homelander stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window, the city stretched out beneath him. He wasn't looking at the view, though. His eyes were glued to the high-definition screen in his office, replaying a loop of Superman's recent rescue efforts. People cheering. Cameras flashing. The media already spinning narratives of a "new hero." It made Homelander's stomach turn.
"He's taking over," Homelander muttered to himself, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His heart raced with the gnawing sensation of being outshined. "He thinks he can swoop in and be the hero... my hero."
Behind him, The Deep and A-Train exchanged nervous glances. Neither of them wanted to be in this room right now, especially not when Homelander was in one of his moods.
"You ever stop to think maybe he's not a threat?" The Deep ventured, trying to sound casual. "Maybe he's here to help."
Homelander turned to face him, his blue eyes sharp as a blade. "Help? What's he helping with? Making me look bad? Undermining everything I've built? You think he's here to play nice?"
The Deep instantly regretted speaking up. He looked down at his feet, his gills twitching slightly. A-Train snickered under his breath, but when Homelander's gaze flicked to him, the speedster quickly shut his mouth.
On the far side of the room, Queen Maeve watched silently, nursing her drink. She'd long since stopped caring about the inner workings of Homelander's fragile ego. But today, something about the situation was different. This new hero—Superman—was shaking things up in ways Maeve hadn't expected. And for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe... maybe this alien could be the one to finally put Homelander in his place.
"Maybe it's not about you, Homelander," Maeve said, her voice cold and distant. "Maybe... just maybe... he's trying to help."
Homelander whipped around, his eyes glowing faintly red. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're buying into that Boy Scout act."
Maeve locked eyes with him, unafraid. "Maybe I'm tired of the act, period."
Before the tension could escalate further, a buzz came through the intercom.
"Sir, we have a visitor in the lobby," the voice announced. "It's him."
Homelander's lips curled into a cold smirk. "Good. Let him come."
Vought Tower – Lobby
Superman descended through the open windows of the lobby, landing with grace on the polished marble floors. The lavish interior of Vought Tower was a stark contrast to the corruption he could sense emanating from the very walls. As he walked forward, his boots clicked against the floor, every step filled with purpose. His eyes scanned the space, searching for signs of trouble.
He wasn't alone.
Homelander was already there, standing at the top of a grand staircase, his chest puffed out, a smug expression on his face. The Deep stood a few steps behind him, looking awkward and uncomfortable, while A-Train leaned casually against a railing, trying to project confidence.
"Superman," Homelander greeted, his tone dripping with false politeness. "I hear you've been... busy."
Superman stopped in the middle of the lobby, his arms folded across his chest. "I'm here to talk, Homelander," he said calmly, his gaze unwavering. "This world—your world—has potential, but what you're doing isn't saving anyone. You're just keeping them afraid."
Homelander let out a low chuckle. "Afraid? You mean like you? Flying around with your cape, pretending to be better than everyone? Don't act like you're any different."
Superman's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm here to help. But I won't let you or anyone else use their powers to hurt people."
Homelander's eyes flickered red again. "Hurt people? You come into my world and think you can tell me how to run it? You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"
Before Superman could respond, there was a slow clap from the shadows near the entrance. Billy Butcher stepped into the light, a twisted grin plastered on his face, his trademark trench coat flapping behind him.
"Well, well, well. Ain't this a sight for sore eyes. The golden boy from another dimension, and the bloody tyrant himself, face to face," Butcher said, mockingly glancing between Superman and Homelander.
Superman turned to face him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And you are?"
"Butcher. Billy Butcher," he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I kill Supes for a livin'. And mate, you're in a nest of 'em right now."
Flashback: Why Butcher is Here
A few days earlier, Butcher had been tipped off by Hughie. Ever since Superman showed up, Vought had been in a scramble, trying to keep things under control. Hughie, working closely with Starlight, had passed on intel that something big was about to go down—Homelander wasn't going to let Superman's presence go unchecked for much longer.
Butcher, always the opportunist, saw this as his moment. Superman was an unknown variable, one with immense power. If Homelander had an equal—or better yet, a superior—then Butcher wanted to see it firsthand. In his mind, if Superman was genuinely the altruistic hero he appeared to be, Butcher could use him. If not, well, he'd add another name to his list of Supes to kill.
He had no illusions about what he was walking into. The power struggle between Homelander and Superman was palpable. The question was: who would blink first?
Back in the present, Butcher leaned casually against a pillar, observing the two titans in front of him. "So, what's the plan, eh? You two gonna have a good ol' punch-up? Or maybe you'll sit down and have a cup of tea, chat about your feelings?"
Homelander sneered at him. "Why are you here, Butcher? You think you're gonna kill me in front of our new 'friend'?"
Butcher's smirk only widened. "Oh no, mate. Just watchin' for now. But when the time comes, you'll know."
Superman, unfazed by Butcher's aggressive tone, addressed both of them. "This isn't about power or control. It's about doing what's right. If either of you—"
Before he could finish, Homelander's eyes lit up with fury. "Right? There's no 'right' in this world, Superman. It's survival of the fittest. And right now, you're in my way."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Homelander's eyes glowed with a red-hot intensity. With a sudden, violent burst, twin beams of heat vision shot from his eyes, directly at Superman's chest.
The heat vision sizzled against Superman's iconic suit, but it didn't even leave a mark. Superman didn't move, didn't flinch. He stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"Is that all you've got?" Superman asked, his voice steady and calm.
Homelander's confident grin faltered for the first time. He hadn't expected this. No one had ever stood up to him like this—unfazed, unafraid.
From his vantage point, Butcher chuckled darkly. "Looks like you bit off more than you can chew, Homelander."
Meanwhile, up in the observation deck, another figure watched the scene unfold. Starlight stood beside Black Noir, her expression conflicted. She'd been trying to figure out what to make of Superman ever since he arrived. On one hand, he seemed like the genuine article—a hero who actually cared. But on the other hand, she knew how quickly the world could corrupt someone, no matter how noble they appeared at first.
Starlight glanced at Black Noir, whose mask hid any hint of emotion. She had no idea what he was thinking, but then again, she never did. Black Noir was as much of a mystery to her as anyone else, a silent enigma. He stood with his arms crossed, motionless as he watched the brewing conflict down below.
"Do you really think Homelander can take him?" she asked, more to herself than to Noir.
Black Noir said nothing, his eyes locked on the confrontation, but Starlight's gut told her that Homelander wasn't prepared for what Superman was capable of. This wasn't just another Super; Superman was on another level. She'd watched the footage, seen how effortlessly he handled crises that would've overwhelmed even the best of the Seven. And the fact that he didn't seem interested in fame or fortune? That scared her even more.
"I have to do something," Starlight muttered, turning on her heel to leave the observation deck. She couldn't just stand by while this escalated.
But before she could make it to the door, a firm hand stopped her. It was Black Noir.
His grip was gentle but firm, a silent command to stay put.
Back in the Lobby
Superman and Homelander continued their tense standoff. The Deep, unsure of what to do, had backed away several steps, while A-Train lingered near the entrance, his eyes flicking between the two, unsure if he should intervene. Neither of them wanted to get involved in a fight between two gods.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with," Homelander hissed, his confidence rattled but not gone. "I'm the top here. You think you can just fly in and take over?"
Superman kept his voice level, diplomatic even. "I'm not here to take anything, Homelander. I'm here because people are getting hurt, and you're letting it happen. This isn't a game. If you're willing to step aside, there doesn't need to be a fight."
"Step aside?" Homelander growled, his fists clenching. "You don't get it, do you? I am this world's protector. I decide what happens here. Not you. Not anyone else."
"You're wrong," Superman said, shaking his head. "You might have power, but you don't have responsibility. That's what makes the difference between someone like you... and someone like me."
Homelander's patience snapped. With a roar of rage, he launched himself at Superman, fists flying. The marble floor beneath his feet cracked under the sheer force of his takeoff, the shockwave rippling through the room. Superman didn't even move as Homelander's fists came crashing down on him. The punches connected with a sickening thud, but Superman stood firm, like an unmovable mountain. He didn't even blink.
"That's enough," Superman said, grabbing Homelander's fist mid-swing with a speed that was almost too fast to track. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, and the air was filled with the sound of bones creaking under pressure.
Homelander's eyes widened in shock as he realized just how strong Superman really was. In an instant, his bravado faltered.
But before either could escalate further, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Enough!"
Superman released Homelander's fist as Queen Maeve stepped forward, her tone icy. "This is going to destroy the city if you two keep at it. You're both acting like children."
Homelander shot her a murderous glare, but Maeve didn't back down. She looked to Superman. "You don't need to do this. Whatever you think of Homelander, fighting him here won't change anything."
Superman looked at her, then back to Homelander. His eyes softened, and he nodded. "You're right. This isn't the way."
Homelander scowled, stepping back, rubbing his sore wrist. "You think you're some kind of saint, don't you? Don't act like you're better than me, Superman. We're the same. We both have the power to rule this world."
Superman shook his head. "That's where you're wrong. We have power, yes, but that doesn't give us the right to rule. We're here to protect people, not control them."
Homelander's jaw clenched, but before he could respond, the doors to the lobby burst open, and a group of heavily armed Vought security personnel flooded in. At their head was Stan Edgar, the calm, calculating CEO of Vought International.
"Gentlemen," Edgar's voice was smooth and authoritative. "I think we've had enough... posturing for one day."
Superman turned to face the new arrival. "Stan Edgar, I presume?"
Edgar gave him a thin smile. "The one and only. I appreciate your... restraint in this matter, Mr. Superman. I think it's clear we all have much to discuss."
Elsewhere in the City: The Boys' Hideout
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room across the city, Hughie sat with Starlight, anxiously watching the live feed from Vought Tower on several monitors. Frenchie and Mother's Milk were both silent, tense as they watched the same feed.
"You think Superman's really gonna go through with it?" Hughie asked, his voice wavering. "You think he can beat Homelander?"
Butcher, lounging in his chair with a grin, took a swig of his beer. "I don't bloody care if he beats the prick. What matters is he's the wrench in Vought's gears. And that's good enough for me."
Mother's Milk glanced at Butcher, frowning. "So what's the plan, then? We just sit back and let them tear each other apart?"
Butcher's grin widened. "Oh, don't worry, mate. There'll be plenty of time for us to jump in once the dust settles. Let those Supes have their fun for now. Sooner or later, they all fall. And when they do, we'll be there to pick up the pieces."
Frenchie, sitting on the edge of the couch, watched the screen with rapt attention. "You're playing with fire, mon ami. Superman is not like the others."
Butcher's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."
Vought Tower – The Aftermath
Stan Edgar stood calmly between Homelander and Superman, hands clasped behind his back. His presence alone seemed to defuse some of the tension, at least temporarily.
"Now," Edgar continued, addressing Superman. "I understand you're new here, and you have your... ideals. But Vought has been the cornerstone of this world's protection for decades. You'd do well to consider what alliances might best serve your... mission."
Superman eyed Edgar cautiously. "I'm not interested in alliances with corrupt corporations, Mr. Edgar."
Edgar chuckled softly. "Corruption is such a strong word. We deal with the realities of the world, Superman. You might want to get used to it."
Homelander crossed his arms, clearly irritated that Edgar had stepped in to stop the fight. "You should've let me finish him off."
Edgar's eyes flicked to Homelander, his tone unbothered. "I'm sure you would've... eventually."
Superman glanced at Queen Maeve, then back to Homelander. "This isn't over, Homelander. I'll be watching you. And the moment you cross the line again, I'll be there."
Homelander's lips curled into a snarl, but before he could retort, Superman turned and flew out of the open window, vanishing into the sky.
Back at The Boys' Hideout
As the feed cut out, Hughie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That... could've been worse."
Butcher leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. "Nah, mate. This is only the beginning."
Mother's Milk shook his head. "What are we getting ourselves into?"
Butcher took another swig of his beer, eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Something beautiful, my friend. Something beautiful."
