Homelander's cruel and tyrannical nature had already been fully revealed through the future video.
But seeing something on screen was still different from witnessing it firsthand. Now, as the crowd watched Homelander approach—his expression a twisted smirk, his eyes cold and manic—a suffocating pressure settled over the protesters. Their chanting slowly died down.
The middle-aged woman leading the crowd saw him getting closer and couldn't help but show fear on her face. But when she glanced back at the people rallying behind her, she regained some courage.
She shouted at Homelander, "You maniac! Murderer! You lied to all of us! You're not a hero—you're a psychotic killer!"
The crowd followed her lead and yelled:
"Psycho! Murderer!"
Homelander clenched his fists but maintained a smile as he stopped in front of the woman, hands on his hips.
His eyes began to glow a menacing red as he tilted his head and smirked.
"You think just because all these people are behind you, I won't do anything?"
"You think this motherfucking quiz exposed the truth?"
"No. You're wrong."
"You were lucky enough to have a great hero. But now... you've lost him!"
By the time he finished, Homelander was practically snarling, and his eyes blazed with laser light, a deadly aura radiating off him.
The middle-aged woman sensed something was wrong but had no time to escape. She watched in horror as his laser beams charged up, ready to strike—
BOOM!
A thunderous crash rang out as someone suddenly descended from the sky, landing on one knee between Homelander and the woman.
He was also clad in a skin-tight suit, with an unmistakable S emblem on his chest. As he looked up, beams of crimson laser burst from his eyes, intercepting Homelander's deadly gaze just in time.
The woman stared in shock for a few seconds before stumbling away. The rest of the crowd finally snapped out of it, dropping their signs and scattering in panic.
No one had expected Homelander to actually attack.
Broad daylight, news choppers overhead—he didn't care. If that mystery man hadn't intervened, Homelander would've started a massacre right then and there.
"Oh my God! He's insane—he really is insane!"
"I was terrified. I thought I was going to die. No one expected him to actually try and kill us all!"
"Demon! Homelander is a demon! Not a hero—never was!"
The protesters were shaken to their core, realizing they had narrowly escaped death.
It was a brutal reminder of how effective Vought's PR had been all these years.
The Seven, especially Homelander, had been the centerpiece of their campaigns. The public saw them as celebrities, idols, not dangerous beings with the power to take lives at a whim.
Now the streets were in chaos—but the news helicopters in the sky were buzzing with excitement. Reporters were shouting into their mics:
"Closer! Get in closer! This is it—breaking news! Homelander attempts murder! Is this a family feud between long-lost brothers?!"
One assistant looked confused. "Wait, that guy's Homelander's brother? They don't even look alike."
"Who cares? They both shoot lasers from their eyes—that makes them brothers enough! This headline is ours!"
Reporters weren't the only ones making the connection. Even Homelander was starting to suspect this new arrival might be some long-lost sibling.
After all, who else could shoot lasers from their eyes?
"Who are you?!" Homelander's expression turned grim. "Another one of Vogelbaum's experiments?"
"You can call me… Superman."
Clark advanced through the laser beams step by step, and Homelander instinctively stepped back. Though they both used heat vision, Homelander could feel the difference in strength.
"Superman?" Homelander sneered at the name, clearly disgusted. He tilted his head, dodging the beam and lunged forward with a punch aimed at Superman's jaw.
Whoever this guy was, he'd deal with him the old-fashioned way—by punching his face in.
But Superman caught his fist mid-air. Homelander's face changed—his super strength... wasn't enough?
He threw his other fist—caught again.
Superman gritted his teeth. He was clearly straining too, but his voice was steady and resolute.
"You've been given incredible power. But that's no excuse to abuse it."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" Homelander roared, his hands pinned. He suddenly smashed his forehead into Superman's in a violent headbutt.
CRACK!
The collision echoed loudly, making everyone wince. That blow made one thing clear: this newcomer didn't just have super strength—he had the same steel body as Homelander.
"You... a clone?" Homelander growled. But as Superman began to speak, Homelander took the opportunity to slam a vicious kick into his chest, launching him across the street and crashing into an abandoned building.
Homelander didn't waste a second—he followed him inside.
Moments later, the sounds of battle rumbled from within. A few seconds later, the entire two-story house collapsed in a plume of dust and debris.
From the smoke, two figures shot into the sky—one chasing the other. Crimson lasers clashed mid-air as their battle escalated, quickly drawing the attention of the authorities.
—
At the same time, Dr. Bruce Banner and his team of heroes also began to mobilize.
Inside the Eternal Space, the players still didn't know what was unfolding below.
But the light screen showed a new question:
[Which of the following killed a version of themselves from a parallel universe?]
[A: Thor Odinson
B: Starlight/Annie January
C: Deadpool/Wade Wilson
D: Billy Butcher]
Seeing the question, Deadpool shrugged and glanced at Stephen Strange.
"I was expecting you to be on this list. Then the answer would've been obvious. Shame. Real shame."
Strange rolled his eyes and didn't bother replying.
Deadpool then turned to Thor. "So what about you, big guy? Think this question's about you?"
Before Thor could respond, Deadpool pointed at Annie.
"Oh, beautiful girl—could it be you? If this were a beauty pageant, I'd totally vote for you. I mean, you're not my type, but still."
Finally, he looked at Billy Butcher and nodded.
"Let's be real, mate. If you had a chance to visit a parallel universe, would you kill yourself… or your wife? Either way, I'm betting you wouldn't be able to kill Homelander."
Butcher shrugged. "You've roasted all of us. Don't you think it's your turn now?"
"Of course, of course!" Deadpool struck a heroic pose, hands on hips.
"The answer to this question? Who else could it be? Obviously—it's me, your charming, handsome, and lovable neighborhood Deadpool!"
"Hey—don't steal Peter's line, alright?"
...
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