Chapter 6
Homelander considered himself the ideal, and he was in many ways.
A sharp mind, a perfect body, a superbeing in the flesh. He might have had psychological flaws, but they were minor.
However, there was one small deficiency that did trouble him.
It was something that proved in training that he was still far from ideal.
From birth to death, every living thing has a single purpose.
That purpose is reproduction.
It's possible for almost anyone, but not super to give life. All supers become sterile as soon as they gain their powers.
They become like manufactured goods, akin to robots that merely mimic human behavior.
However...
"Please repeat that."
I asked her, not believing my own ears.
"You have a son."
Madelyn repeated, but this time her face lacked its usual smile.
"How old is he?"
"He's eight."
She answered, pursing her lips.
"So, you've been hiding the existence of my son from me for eight years?"
There was no anger in my red eyes but only interest.
Nevertheless, that was enough to scare her for her life, and her heartbeat quickened, and I could clearly see beads of sweat on her forehead.
It was crystal clear why they had hidden the son from his father.
Simply put, Homelander would make a terrible father, much like Ghandi would make a terrorist.
He's a narcissistic psychopath who considers himself not just a superhuman but almost a god.
That's a fitting description of Homelander.
He doesn't know how to love; friendship and relationships are merely tools for him.
The only way to manipulate him was through his attachment to Madelyn.
He would have spoiled his son, turning him into a second version of himself, only much worse.
This was something the Vought executives could not allow.
However, I vividly remembered what they had done years ago with the boy who would one day be known as Homelander.
The hand shoved into the furnace was among the least severe of their experiments.
What to say about complete isolation for months or being shoved into a huge aquarium until unconscious?
Not to mention the testing of various weapons and toxic substances.
I hadn't even noticed my eyes glowing brighter and more sinister, my brows furrowing.
If they did even a fraction of what was done to Homelander to that child... I would grind the entire Vought upper management to dust.
"His mother asked us to!"
Madelyn nearly shouted, crouching on the couch.
As she spoke, I stood still, and the red light in my eyes slowly faded.
"Who is she?"
"Rebecca Butcher. She worked with us as the Director of Digital Marketing."
Madelyn exhaled softly, relieved that my eyes weren't burning through her.
"I see."
I recalled the name and the woman... as well as the complicated circumstances surrounding the conception of my son.
Classic workplace harassment.
It was another event celebrating a meaningless record invented by marketers.
The boredom of an idiot who decided to play a twisted game of NTR with Rebecca Butcher, who came there with her husband.
A simple threat of being fired from the company did the trick.
She was so desperate that she put her job ahead of her husband who was literally just a few meters away.
"She's raising him on her own?"
I asked, realizing that Rebecca could have set the child against supers and Homelander in particular.
It was hard to believe because Vought wouldn't have liked that.
"Yes. They live on a large property surrounded by concrete walls."
"I recognize your methods."
I sneered maliciously when I saw her avert her gaze.
"They haven't done anything to him. No experiments. He lives with his mother and is growing up like a normal child."
She began to justify herself, and I had to believe her, as I could see through her.
"And what's his name? I hope it's not John Gillman?"
I raised an eyebrow, involuntarily recalling the name on Homelander's civilian identity passport.
However, that name hadn't been used for him in a very long time.
"His name is Ryan."
"Little King, what a fitting name."
I scoffed under my breath, calmly walking over to the woman.
"So, will you tell me where they are?"
"Homelander..."
"You have no right to ask anything of me after hiding this for so many years and keeping my son locked away."
I frowned.
"We don't keep them locked away. They can leave at any time. We only monitor to control the activation of his abilities if it happens."
She assured me, but...
"Have you forgotten? I can easily detect lies, especially obvious ones."
I said this with displeasure while touching her chin and lifting her gaze to meet mine.
"I'm sorry."
She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
"Only out of our long-standing friendship will I allow you to walk this earth, but don't think I will forget your actions."
A few minutes later, I watched through the wall as Madelyn walked on unsteady legs toward the elevator.
She was still tense, her heart racing wildly. She probably suspected she was still being watched.
I smirked and turned my gaze away, no longer following her.
What mattered now was figuring out how to meet my son.
At first glance, it might seem pointless—why would I need a literal stranger's child?
I'm not Homelander.
However, this is now my body, and I simply couldn't ignore Vought's plans.
Homelander is the strongest superhero, and he cannot be killed.
Every attempt to make a super with about the same power has failed. Queen Maeve is one example.
There is now a child who could theoretically inherit all of my power.
If they failed to raise a fully devoted super with him, they might succeed with his son if they use a different approach.
For some reason, I really didn't want an instrument of power controlled by a group of evil bastards to be used against me.
I sighed and walked over to the wardrobe while opening the doors to reveal four identical superhero costumes.
I turned around, shut the doors quietly, and flew out through the balcony.
I definitely couldn't meet my son dressed like this. I doubted a child would be thrilled to see a freak, even if he was world-famous.
First, I needed to show myself as an ordinary human, not a goddamn demigod.
I would have to postpone the introduction.
However, I wasn't going to leave him for even a day.
I had to be cautious with Vought because they could easily replace the child with another one or administer Compound V.
I couldn't allow that, so I flew over ten thousand kilometers per hour at full speed.
It was no surprise that I arrived in just ten minutes.
Hovering above the vast, walled-off property, I scanned below.
I saw just over thirty people working there through the walls and clouds.
But what caught my attention were only two people: a woman and a boy with chestnut hair and blue eyes.
They were cuddled together on a couch, watching a melodrama on TV.
I didn't want to stay at the scene for too long and flew back.
I quickly solved the attire problem by asking Ashley to bring me suitable clothes.
I really liked only the white shirt and black pants she brought, and I thought everything else was too colorful.
I left the building on foot for the first time in a few days.
I had become too reliant on my newly acquired powers. The key was to arrange my hair to look effortlessly casual.
That was easy.
As for completing the look of John Gillman, I found what I needed at a nearby clothing store.
"You look great in that."
The girl at the cash register complimented me.
"Thank you."
I smiled at her, looking at the mirror.
The person staring back at me was no longer Homelander; at least, he certainly wouldn't wear glasses.
It could be considered a bit of a cliché, but who could blame me?
Superman's way of hiding his identity is often made fun of, but that doesn't change the fact that it works.
So I strolled through the park completely calmly, taking a break from the frenzy that had engulfed me these past few days.
I even bought myself a creamy ice cream that seemed like I hadn't had in a year and sat down on a bench.
"Rest is the parent of all great thoughts."
I involuntarily recalled a quote that fit the situation perfectly.