Chapter 98: Chapter 98: Homelander (2)
The atmosphere outside Vought Tower was electrical. It hummed with the collective anxiety and desperation of a hundred thousand people packed into the plaza, spilling out onto the avenues for blocks in every direction.
Millions more were tethered to their screens across the globe.
It had been mere days since the Appalachian Massacre... the day the world was told a rogue military faction and a brainwashed Soviet relic had detonated a nuclear device, taking the lives of Queen Maeve, Starlight, A-Train and Deep.
The world was still reeling, a global superpower feeling suddenly vulnerable. But Vought International understood that a vacuum of hope was the most profitable market condition in existence.
A massive stage had been erected at the base of the tower. The usual blindingly bright corporate banners had been replaced by somber black and gold drapes.
The giant digital billboards overlooking the plaza were locked onto a video of the American flag waving against a bruised sky.
In the press pit, over three hundred journalists, photographers and cameramen stood shoulder to shoulder, the heat of their bodies and the hum of their equipment creating a stifling microclimate.
The low murmur of the crowd died instantly as the massive screens shifted. The Vought logo appeared, followed by the silhouette of an eagle.
And then, descending from the sky above, parting the clouds like a descending deity, came Homelander.
The crowd erupted. It was a deafening roar of absolute adoration, grief and relief. Women wept openly. Men held up their children. The flashbulbs of the press corps strobed like a localized lightning storm.
Homelander landed in the exact center of the stage. His red boots touched the polished black wood without making a sound.
He stood perfectly straight, his chest puffed out, the golden eagles on his shoulders gleaming under the spotlights.
His cape, a flawless tapestry of stars and stripes, rippled in a perfectly timed artificial breeze.
He looked out over the sea of humanity. Through his super hearing, he could hear the frantic heartbeats of a hundred thousand people. He could hear them whispering his name like a prayer.
"Homelander. Thank God for Homelander."
Beneath his somber expression, his ego gorged itself on the worship. This was the love he had bled for. He was the sole survivor. The apex god.
He stepped slowly up to the podium. He placed his gloved hands on the edges, lowering his head for a long moment. He let the silence stretch, forcing the massive crowd to hold its collective breath.
When he finally looked up, his blue eyes were shining with perfectly unshed tears.
"My fellow Americans," Homelander began, his voice a rich baritone that carried over the plaza speakers like thunder wrapped in velvet. "And citizens of the world. The past week has tested the very foundation of our spirit."
He paused, his jaw tightening in a display of barely contained anguish.
"We faced an evil that defied comprehension. An evil born of treason, hiding in the shadows, seeking to tear down the shield that protects this great nation. And in the face of that nuclear fire..." He choked on the word, a masterful piece of theatrical grief. "In the face of that fire, my family, my team... they did not hesitate."
The crowd was completely captivated. The silence was so profound that the click of the camera shutters sounded like machine gun fire.
"Maeve. Noir. A-Train. Deep. Starlight." He spoke their names like holy incantations. "They gave their tomorrows so that you could have today. They absorbed the wrath of our enemies, standing as an unbreakable wall between you and absolute destruction. They are gone. And a part of my soul is gone with them."
He looked down, wiping a single tear from his cheek.
"I stood in the ashes of that valley," Homelander continued, raising his head, his voice gaining a righteous strength. "And I looked up at the sky and I asked myself... how do we go on? How do I carry this burden alone?"
He leaned into the microphone, his eyes blazing with a patriotic fire.
"The answer came to me not from above, but from right here. From the streets of New York. From you. Because when the world looked its darkest, when an unrelated tragedy struck our city streets in the form of a runaway twenty ton truck... three young men stepped into the light."
The digital screens behind him flared to life, showing the high definition footage of the 5th Avenue rescue.
Julian stopping the truck with a wall of blue telekinetic force. Felix carrying a family to safety in a blur of super speed. Elias frying the engine block with a casual flick of lightning.
"They showed me that the spirit of true heroism did not die in that valley," Homelander proclaimed, his voice echoing off the surrounding skyscrapers. "They showed me that when the call goes out, the extraordinary will always rise to defend the innocent."
Homelander stepped back from the podium, throwing his right arm out toward the heavy velvet curtains at the rear of the stage.
"America, the world is dark, but the light is not extinguished. I am proud and I am honored to introduce you to the newest members of The Seven!"
The curtains parted. Plumes of dramatic white smoke hissed from the stage floor.
Three figures emerged, striding forward with an effortless charisma.
Vought’s design and marketing departments had worked miracles in forty eight hours, crafting iconic suits that perfectly matched their viral monikers.
Julian, now Justice... walked in the center. His suit was a tactical navy blue with gold accents, radiating an aura of command and moral authority. A majestic gold cape draped over one shoulder.
To his right was Felix, now Flash. His suit was an aerodynamic marvel of crimson and silver, form fitting and streamlined, designed to look as though it was moving at Mach 1 even while standing still. He offered the crowd a devastatingly easygoing smile, offering a two fingered salute.
To the left was Elias, now Electro. He was clad in matte black armor crisscrossed with neon blue conduits that pulsed with a faint energy. He looked impossibly cool.
The crowd went absolutely berserk. The roar was deafening, a mixture of ecstatic screams and frantic applause.
Homelander beamed, a paternal smile on his face as he welcomed them to the podium. The three clones played their roles with flawless precision. They approached Homelander as devoted disciples.
Justice reached the podium first. He looked at Homelander, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of profound respect before taking Homelander’s offered hand.
"We are just the hands, sir," Justice said into the microphone, his voice incredibly sincere, ensuring every word was broadcast globally. "You are the mind and you are the heart. We are here to serve your vision for a safer world."
Homelander’s smile widened, genuine pleasure flooding his chest. Yes, he thought. They know exactly what they are.
Flash took the mic next, flashing a dazzling grin. "I used to watch A-Train on TV and dream of being half as fast. Today, I promise to use my speed to run toward the danger, just like he did. But most importantly, I’m just honored to stand in the shadow of the greatest hero who ever lived." He gestured grandly to Homelander.
Electro simply leaned into the mic, his grey eyes piercing the camera lenses. "The storm is here to protect you. And we follow the Homelander."
Homelander put his arms around their shoulders, pulling them into a heroic tableau. The cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing the image of the resurrected Seven.
The grieving god and his three loyal archangels.
The internet exploded.
Vought’s servers strained under the weight of the global traffic. The live streams on VoughtFace, YouVid and generic news sites were overwhelmed by a tidal wave of comments, scrolling so fast they were a blur of text and emojis.
PS: The novel is already completed on Patreon. If you want to read the whole story at once, there are 10 advance Chapters available. www.patreon. com/Drrajnovel
