The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

All that we are is the result of what we have thought.

~ Buddha

____

The Deep’s apartment was also in Manhattan, though it sat on the West Side with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Hudson River.

Ever since this idiot had latched onto the Church of the Collective, he had been transferred back from the fringes.

He had been clinging to the beautiful dream of returning to The Seven, fantasizing about a wonderful life, only for The Guardian to ruthlessly shatter it.

Kevin was currently soaking in a custom-made bathtub, chugging his third bottle of whiskey.

The entire internet was spreading rumors...

Had The Deep also been to Rhode Island?

He was finished!

This time, he would never be able to get back up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Kevin hugged his knees, cowering in the water, looking every bit like a piece of trash abandoned by the entire world.

"I didn’t do anything! I just went to participate in a few events..."

Just as he was wallowing in self-pity, the lights in his home suddenly went out!

The Deep jerked his head up. Standing at the bathroom doorway was a silhouette of pure black.

The guy was clad in a pitch-black combat suit, standing motionless like a shadow spreading from the walls.

"Bla... Black Noir?"

The Deep’s drunkenness vanished by half in an instant.

Black Noir did not speak.

He merely raised his hand, pointed at The Deep, and made a downward gesture.

The Deep understood it immediately.

"Come with me! Or die here!"

The Deep sprang up from the bathtub, splashing water everywhere.

"Wait, wait, wait! Listen to me! It was The Guardian who sent you, right? Isn’t it?!" He scrambled out. "Take me to see him! I beg you! Take me to see The Guardian!"

"I can explain! I can explain everything! I’m useful! I’m useful to him!"

Black Noir stood motionless.

The Deep’s brain raced. His desire to survive was off the charts.

"I’ll be his dog! Really! I’m willing to lick his shoes! Let me... I’ll even eat shit if I have to! Just don’t kill me!"

"I’m only in my thirties, I still have the prime of my life ahead of me!!"

Those unbearable words kept tumbling out of his mouth.

A nationally renowned superhero, the man who commanded The Seven seas, was currently crying with snot and tears smearing his face.

He wasn’t necessarily afraid of Black Noir.

But Black Noir’s deployment meant he couldn’t resist. If he did, the next person to come would be Homelander, or perhaps even The Guardian.

Perhaps those two were watching right now!

Black Noir watched him quietly.

An eagle crawled out from under the bathtub.

"Do we really have to kill him? Although this guy is scum, you can’t do this kind of thing!"

"Don’t listen to that guy, kill him!"

"Everything in the past is over. You know that person can’t possibly come back alive!"

Other cartoon characters jumped out one by one, each with a different personality.

The Deep thought Black Noir was hesitating.

However, Black Noir was simply having a mental breakdown.

This scene of assassinating The Deep reminded him of the past.

He, too, had teammates. He, too, had once knelt on the ground, having his head smashed in by his own leader with a shield, smashed until he could never speak a word for the rest of his life.

Blood for blood—that was his teammate.

This crying man before him... just a pathetic piece of trash!

The other guy still thought he had a good relationship with him, when in reality, he just couldn’t be bothered to express his likes or dislikes.

[Black Noir — Emotional State: Old wounds triggered, fear, obsession twisted, cold murderous intent rising]

[Ability Points Gained: +7,330]

The Deep was still wailing.

Black Noir stepped forward, grabbed his neck, and snapped it like a garlic stem.

Crack!

The Deep’s eyes widened, and he collapsed powerlessly.

Mission accomplished!

Black Noir let go, letting the corpse slide into the bathtub.

Then, he began to search the apartment, leaving no corner untouched.

The bedroom, the study, the walk-in closet... Finally, behind the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, he discovered a camouflaged hidden door.

The hidden room was piled with documents, hard drives, and stacks of photos that hadn’t been destroyed in time.

Vought’s dark secrets! Financial transactions of the Church of the Collective! There were even a few pictures of... things from the island?

That idiot The Deep had actually left himself so many "life-saving charms."

Did he think he could negotiate with The Guardian by using these things?

Foolish!

Black Noir gathered the evidence into a waterproof bag.

Just as he was preparing to leave, a bubble suddenly popped up in a small water tank in the corner of the hidden room.

An octopus was staring at him.

That was The Deep’s beloved.

Black Noir reached out, scooped up the octopus, walked back to the bathroom, and threw it onto The Deep’s corpse.

It could be considered... leaving you a companion.

However, the octopus squirmed twice on the corpse, then immediately climbed toward the edge of the bathtub in disgust, as if it were completely unfamiliar with the body, eager to get as far away from him as possible.

Black Noir: "..."

That’s not right!

Why was it different from what he had imagined?

The octopus should be hugging The Deep’s corpse, crying, right?

Why was it acting like they weren’t close at all!

Black Noir didn’t think too much about it and vanished silently.

The next morning.

[Breaking News] Superhero The Deep found dead in his own apartment; preliminary determination is homicide!

Once the news broke, all of America was in an uproar.

But before Vought could make a statement, several independent media outlets preemptively steered the direction of public opinion toward an extremely dangerous angle.

"The Deep knew too much and was silenced."

"He publicly endorsed the Church of the Collective and participated in Alastair Adana’s events; he must have been holding the list for Little St. James Island!"

"It was some big shots in Washington who were afraid he would talk, so they sent someone to kill him!"

Overnight, the theory that "The Deep was silenced by the upper echelons" spread throughout all of America.

Hillel watched the news, slowly taking a sip of his Dr. Pepper.

"Yo, I thought I’d have to spend some money on PR, but I didn’t expect this year’s media to be so sensible, setting the narrative themselves!"

He hadn’t expected the media to dare to open fire.

After all, the other party consisted of big shots.

Angry citizens began to take to the streets.

From New York to Los Angeles to Washington, thousands of people held up signs, demanding the government disclose the follow-up investigation into Rhode Island...

Who was the real organizer?

How many people were involved?

Release the list, make it all public!

The White House’s response was uniformly vague.

The President stood in front of the camera.

"Thank you, thank you very much. Look.. we are investigating it. Okay? Nobody investigates better than us, nobody. The judicial department.. they’re looking at it very strongly, very toughly. Great people, mostly."

"And by the way, I saw the news this morning. They’re saying The Deep knew things. The Deep! Let me tell you about The Deep. Terrible guy, I never liked him, nobody liked him. He talked to fish! Who talks to fish? Unbelievable. Very weird guy."

"And now they’re saying he was on an island. Look, I don’t know about any island. I’ve been to great islands. But this Rhode Island stuff? Never heard of it. So please, everybody.. you have to remain calm! Remain calm. We have the situation totally under control, total control. The Fake Media wants you to panic, but we are doing a fantastic job, the likes of which nobody has ever seen before. Thank you for your attention!"

Who hasn’t heard that kind of talk from him?

The public was long sick of hearing it!

"Liars!"

"You’re all in on it!"

"We want the truth!"

"Fuck... Mr. President, I even voted for you back then!"

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!"

No one knew who it was, but someone in the crowd was the first to shout that name.

"We need The Guardian!"

"Yes! The Guardian!"

"The Guardian will give us the truth!"

"No! We don’t just need The Guardian!"

The one shouting was a retired veteran, his chest covered in medals. He raised his fist and roared:

"We approve of The Guardian to become the Regent!!!"

The whole crowd suddenly went silent.

Then, came an even more intense roar.

"Regent!"

"Regent!!"

"Regent!!!"

Some people had even prepared signs in advance.

They held up signs reading "Regent"!

Oh my! You have really done me in!!

Hillel’s mouth corners were harder to suppress than an AK.

____

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