Chapter 21:The Approaching Storm

He activated his earpiece, connecting directly to Vought's main headquarters. "Ashley," he said sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

There was a brief pause before Ashley's frantic voice crackled through the earpiece. "Y-yes, Homelander?"

"Find out everything you can about Becca Butcher and my son," he ordered. "I want to know who's been hiding them and why. And I want the information I'm heading towards Vought."

"Of course," Ashley stammered, her voice laced with fear. "I'll get right on it."

Homelander cut the connection and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts — anger, betrayal, the burning need to find his son and make those who kept this secret from him pay dearly. He had never felt so blind with rage, so focused and yet so unmoored by what he had just learned.

He surveyed the city below, the lights twinkling like stars in the darkness. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly alive, every sense heightened, every nerve buzzing with anticipation. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for. He wasn't just going to find his son; he was going to remind the world who truly ruled it.

He took a step off the edge of the rooftop, letting himself freefall for a moment, enjoying the sensation of weightlessness before snapping his body upright and rocketing into the sky. The air whipped past him as he flew, his eyes scanning the cityscape below, searching for any signs of where Becca and his son might be hiding.

As he flew getting closer and closer to Vought Headquarters, his superhearing picked up a flurry of panicked voices over Vought's secured channels. They were already scrambling, their plans unraveling in the face of his wrath. He could hear the fear in their voices, the frantic discussions about what to do now that Homelander knew the truth. They were scared, and they should be. He was coming for them, and there would be no mercy.

Homelander landed on the rooftop of Vought Tower, the impact of his arrival sending a shockwave through the building that rattled windows and set off car alarms far below. He stormed through the doors, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous halls as he made his way to the control room.

Inside, the room was a hive of activity, Vought's top executives and security personnel clustered around screens and monitors, their faces pale with fear. They turned as one when Homelander entered, their eyes wide with terror at the sight of him.

He didn't give them a chance to speak. "Where is my son?" he demanded, his voice a thunderous boom that reverberated through the room.

No one answered. They stood frozen in place, like deer caught in the headlights, unsure of whether to run or stay put. Homelander's patience, already stretched thin, snapped. He seized the nearest executive, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a panicked expression, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.

"I asked you a question," Homelander said softly, his voice dripping with menace. "Where is my son?"

The man whimpered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I-I don't know," he stammered. "I swear, I don't know!"

Homelander tightened his grip, feeling the man's bones creak under the pressure. "You're lying," he hissed. "And you're running out of time to tell the truth."

"Please," the man begged, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, I don't know. I'm just a financial officer, I don't—"

Homelander didn't let him finish. He tossed the man aside like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into a bank of monitors with a sickening thud. He turned to the rest of the room, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Does anyone here know where my son is?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm. "Because if you do, now would be a very good time to speak up."

Homelander's gaze swept over the control room, taking in the petrified expressions of Vought's top executives. His icy blue eyes, like twin lasers, bored into them, and the tension in the room became almost palpable. He had them all under his thumb, and he knew it. But he wasn't here for them—he wanted answers.

The silence was deafening, a heavy weight that pressed down on everyone, squeezing the air from their lungs. Homelander's patience was already hanging by a thread, and this display of cowardice only made it worse. He took a step forward, the click of his boots echoing off the walls. "Where is my son?" he demanded once again, his voice a low, menacing growl that vibrated through the air like a thunderstorm on the horizon.

Still, no one spoke. The fear in the room was tangible, thickening the atmosphere. Homelander's jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. He was seconds away from tearing the room apart when Ashley Barrett, his assistant, pushed her way through the crowd. Her face was flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was clearly terrified, but unlike the others, she had the sense to act."Sir---Homelander!" Ashley called out, her voice shaky but loud enough to carry across the room. She was clutching a tablet in her hand, and she hurried over to him, holding it out as if it were an offering to a vengeful god. "I—I have something you wanted to see."

Homelander turned his gaze on her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Ashley thought he might lash out at her, but then he nodded curtly. "Show me," he said, his tone icy.

Ashley swallowed hard and tapped the screen of her tablet, bringing up a file containing classified information and a video but she skips the information and opens the video. "It's a video feed," she explained quickly. "I have gotten surveillance on Becca Butcher's location. It has been kept hidden from… well, from you. But it's all there. Everything you need to know."

Homelander's eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to the tablet. "Play it," he ordered, his voice brooking no delay.Ashley tapped a button, and the video feed appeared on the screen. It showed a modest house in a secluded area, surrounded by dense trees and a high wooden fence. The camera zoomed in on a window, revealing a woman inside who was unmistakably Becca Butcher. She was seated at a kitchen table, talking to a young boy with blond hair and striking blue eyes. Homelander's breath caught in his throat. It was like looking into a mirror. This was Ryan—his son.

A surge of emotion washed over him—anger, pride, a fierce protectiveness he hadn't felt in years. His hands trembled slightly as he watched the video, Becca teaching and guiding him with patience and care. They were living a life of their own, hidden away from him, and Vought had known all along.

He looked up from the tablet, his eyes blazing with fury. "How long have you known?" he demanded, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Before any of the executives could respond, Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought, appeared in the doorway of the control room. His face was composed, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. He stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "Homelander," Edgar said calmly, "we were only trying to protect—"

"Protect?" Homelander interrupted again, his voice dripping with venom. "You were trying to protect yourselves. You kept my son from me. You lied to me. All of you."

Edgar held up a hand, trying to maintain some semblance of control although he was a bit scared of Homelander losing control and lasering everyone here. "Ryan is a unique case," he said carefully. "We needed to ensure his safety, away from public scrutiny and potential threats. It was for his own good."

Homelander's eyes blazed with fury. "You don't decide what's good for my son," he snarled. "I do."

Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, his cape billowing behind him like a storm cloud. He didn't wait for the elevator. Instead, he blasted through the ceiling, flying straight up through the floors of Vought Tower. Glass and metal shattered around him as he ascended, and in moments, he was outside, rocketing into the night sky after getting the information he wanted as the people below had to protect themselves from falling glass and metals by taking cover.