Chapter 68 : Truth (1)
After that, the Boys returned to the hideout. Hughie placed the soaked phone on the table and repeated everything Ezekiel had told him.
"It goes to the neonatal ward at Cincinnati General Hospital."
Butcher frowned. "A babies’ hospital? Why the fuck would a super drug be going to a babies’ hospital?"
M.M. folded his arms. From what they knew, Compound V was a drug for supes — so why would anyone be shipping it to a neonatal ward? "Are you sure that’s what he said?"
Hughie nodded. "That’s exactly what he said."
The room fell silent.
"Well, that’s bloody disturbing," Butcher muttered.
"If he’s telling the truth, this isn’t distribution in the normal sense," M.M. said. "Nobody sends a substance like that to a neonatal ward without a reason."
Frenchie leaned back in his chair. "A neonatal unit means infants. Children only a few days old."
Nobody spoke after that. The implication hung in the air, and none of them wanted to say it out loud.
Finally, Butcher stood up. "Right. M.M., Frenchie, and I are going to check this out ourselves." He looked toward Mark, Hughie, and Kimiko. "You lot stay here."
Hughie opened his mouth. "Wait, shouldn’t I come? I’m the one who got the information."
Butcher shook his head. "No. You’ve done enough for one day. Besides, if this turns out to be nothin’, no point draggin’ everyone across half the bloody country."
M.M. nodded. "We’ll take a look first and see what’s really going on before making any decisions."
Mark stayed quiet. He already knew what they would find. It was time the truth came to light — and soon enough, the Devil would make his entrance.
The three men got into the hospital through the loading entrance just after midnight. Frenchie stayed behind to keep an eye on security while Butcher and M.M. made their way toward the neonatal ward.
Neither of them expected to find much.
They certainly didn’t expect this.
Through the glass, nurses moved between rows of incubators. Everything looked ordinary until one of them wheeled out a metal cart carrying several blue vials. M.M.’s expression changed immediately.
"That’s it," he whispered.
The label on the container read: Compound V.
The nurse connected an intravenous line to one of the newborns and adjusted the flow. Nobody in the room treated it as unusual — to them, it was just another procedure.
The baby remained still for a few moments. Then its eyes flickered. A faint burst of energy escaped before vanishing almost instantly.
Butcher stared at the incubator. The image reminded him of Homelander. For several seconds, neither man spoke.
"No..." M.M. muttered. "No fucking way."
"Fuck these cunts," Butcher said quietly. "They aren’t born supes. They’re made in a bloody lab."
The realization sat heavily between them. It wasn’t a gift. It wasn’t destiny. Parents weren’t giving birth to superheroes — Vought was manufacturing them.
A noise came from behind. One of the hospital guards stepped into the corridor and immediately noticed movement near the restricted area. "Hey! I saw somebody sneaking around here!"
Butcher moved to the cart, grabbed one of the Compound V samples, and shoved it inside his jacket. "Time to go."
The guard reached for his radio. "Stop!"
M.M. didn’t wait. The two of them sprinted toward the service exit as security personnel rushed into the hallway.
Shots rang out — bullets struck the walls and shattered a window near the stairwell — but neither man slowed down. By the time more guards arrived, they were already outside and heading for the car with proof in their possession.
***
The next day, Hughie stared at the vial on the table.
"So what you’re saying is that supes aren’t born that way? Compound V creates them?"
Butcher set it down. "Yeah. Every bloody one of them came from Vought and this compound. We still don’t know exactly how the stuff works, but it makes supes. That’s the only conclusion left."
M.M. remained quiet. Newborn babies. Intravenous lines. Vought doctors supervising the whole process. Nothing about it was natural.
For Butcher, however, the discovery meant something else. Now he had proof. Now Rayner would have to listen.
For eight years he had carried questions about Becca’s disappearance and what Homelander had done. This was the first real weapon he had against Vought.
The mood in the hideout remained heavy until Butcher suddenly looked around the room.
"Oi, where’s Mark?"
Hughie glanced toward the door. "He said he was going out to get some fresh air."
Butcher frowned. "Fresh air usually means trouble with that bloke."
Outside one of the largest news stations in the city, a hooded figure wearing a mask walked toward the entrance. Security guards immediately stepped forward.
"Sir, identification, please."
Mark stopped. Without a word, a blue glow appeared in his eyes.
Two energy beams shot past the guards and struck the concrete wall beside the gate. Chunks of debris scattered across the ground and the shockwave knocked both guards onto their backs.
The message was clear. He could have hit them. He chose not to.
Inside the building, reporters and camera crews began rushing toward the entrance. Mark adjusted his hood and looked at the gathering crowd.
"Most of you know me as the Devil," he said calmly.
"Today, I’ve decided to give your channel an opportunity. Whether you become the number one news network in America depends entirely on what you do next."
The reporters exchanged nervous looks. Nobody had expected the mysterious supe to walk directly into their headquarters. And nobody wanted to be the first person to ask why he was there.
A/N : There will be Minor crossover and the next world is Jujutsu Kaisen
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👉 /Mark841
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