The Boys: Ultimate Multiversal Lifeform

"Looking forward to your performance at next week’s hearing."

"Got it."

Victoria hung up, eyed the wrecked scene, then followed her staff off the podium.

"That was live. We’re fucked now," the cameraman muttered under his breath.

He was about to kill the feed when a billboard came screaming out of nowhere and sheared him clean in half at the waist.

Boom.

The twisted metal crashed down hard, and the camera caught every uncensored detail: his upper body, the ragged stump where his midsection used to be, guts and blood pouring out across the pavement.

Viewers watching at home jumped so hard their chairs nearly flipped. Half of them screamed "Shit!" and recoiled. Phones hit the floor. Faces went white. Pupils shook.

The crew on site looked the same.

"Terrorist attack! This is a fucking terrorist attack!" Victoria’s assistant stared at the corpse, legs locked like concrete.

"Is this Vought hitting back?"

The thought had barely formed when a big guy who’d been blending into the crowd suddenly charged straight at him. The closer the man got, the more the assistant’s nerve cracked. He ditched Victoria without a second thought and bolted for his life.

"I’m killing you first. Then I’ll deal with those Vought assholes!" The big bastard had shoulders like a linebacker and a torso built like a bear. Bloodshot eyes. Thick body hair. He ran like a bear gone rabid.

He roared and launched himself. The ground cratered under both boots. He grinned at the pure terror on the assistant’s face, cocked a fist, and punched the man’s head into paste. A wet explosion of red and white sprayed across the lens.

A second later the official feed of Congresswoman Neuman’s livestream went dead, cut by the platform itself.

Everyone watching got a blue screen before they could even process what they’d just seen.

"What the fuck just happened?"

Curiosity about the rest of it, and genuine worry for Neuman, sent them scrambling onto every social app, hunting for anyone near Vought Tower right now.

Sure enough, some suicidal idiot posted: "I live right by Vought. Starting a livestream."

"Do it, bro. You go, I’ll tip the shit out of you."

Plenty of people were still shaking from the last feed, some already carrying fresh trauma. The rest just wanted more blood and noise. They kept egging the guy on.

Moments later, the fearless nerd went live.

While that was happening, the security detail tried to keep Victoria safe. They radioed NYPD for backup and opened fire at the same time.

It looked like a Hollywood shootout.

The mountain of muscle walked through the bullets like they were spitballs. His white T-shirt was soaked crimson, dozens of fresh holes punched through the fabric and the meat underneath.

"Get in the car. We’re leaving now." One guard covered Victoria all the way to the vehicle and yanked the door open.

"Where’s Homelander?" Victoria’s voice was tight.

She was already certain Homelander had gone rogue and sent a supe terrorist to do the job.

Edgar shared the exact same thought. Face like thunder, he rode the elevator straight up to the supe conference room where Homelander and Ivan Greevs were watching the live feed together.

Homelander stood with his hands clasped behind his back, smiling down at the chaos below.

"Sometimes things just go in directions you never expect. Look at Congresswoman Neuman now. Hard to believe that just minutes ago she was all polished and proper on camera."

"Your payback sure didn’t waste any time," Ivan said, shaking his head with a little laugh.

Homelander shot him a sideways glance. "I didn’t set this up. I don’t know that big bear-looking freak."

"I get it."

Ivan gave him the classic "we both know what’s what" look. "Still, you have to admit this play worked beautifully. First you go on live TV, admit you killed Paige by accident, and win over a chunk of the audience. Then once you’re gone you send a terrorist to start a slaughter right in front of the cameras. You scare the shit out of everyone, crank up that deep unease in their guts, and deliberately refuse to step in while the supe terrorist runs wild. Only when they’ve seen the blood do they realize who they need most. Let it boil long enough, then show up and take the terrorist out yourself."

"That way you prove you’re ready to protect every American citizen, and at the same time the public starts forgiving the whole ’accidental kill’ mess."

Ivan couldn’t help clapping. "Very nice. Toss in a little PR magic and this whole media shitstorm should blow over fast."

Homelander’s face went from pure disbelief to a smug, knowing smile.

"Ivan, you’re sharp. Guess I couldn’t hide it from you after all."

"Smart as he is, he’s still not smarter than you. Very good. Acting without my permission... Homelander, you never stop surprising me." Edgar’s voice came from the doorway of the conference room.

"You got a problem with what I did?" Homelander turned toward him. Murder was already in his eyes.

Edgar’s mouth curled into a cold smile. "I didn’t catch that. Say it again."

He met Homelander head-on, steel for steel. The quiet authority rolling off him made Homelander back down once more.

Homelander’s feelings toward Edgar were complicated, something close to what he’d felt for the late Madelyn. In his head Edgar filled a father-shaped hole, so he almost never pushed a fight all the way.

He left the conference room without another word. A second later he was standing right behind the white mountain of muscle.

"Had enough fun?"

Twin beams of red light blasted from Homelander’s eyes and sliced the big man clean in half at the chest. The upper half started to tip and slide sideways before the guy even finished turning his head.

The lower half still tried to speak. Homelander, pure rage now, carved him into smaller and smaller pieces until nothing was left but a smoking pile of blackened meat. Only then did the anger ease a little.

"Hey, buddy, what are you filming?"

The nerd who’d been livestreaming the whole thing suddenly realized Homelander was gone from the frame. He looked around—and a thick, powerful hand landed on his shoulder. His heart nearly stopped. The phone almost flew out of his grip on pure reflex.

He turned stiffly. There stood Homelander, beaming that sunny, all-American smile.

____

[]~(￣▽￣)~*

Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69