Fang Yuan can be genuinely sadistic sometimes.
Especially when he's holding the upper hand—his inner troll just can't stay quiet.
Homelander is the Butcher's mortal enemy, the man the Butcher would throw his life away to kill, and now Fang Yuan wants the Butcher to work with him?
Doesn't that make every ounce of the Butcher's past effort look like a joke?
"I accept," the Butcher said at once.
"For Becca," he added.
Fine—mock the meme, not the man. When it comes to his wife, the Butcher's a stand-up guy.
Meanwhile, at Vought Headquarters.
Madelyn was riding high, the undisputed star of the Gala.
She had just closed the first major contract with the Pentagon, formally inducting Vought into the Military-Industrial Complex and vaulting her status—both publicly and inside the company.
But what thrilled her most was the arrival of Stan Edgar and the news he carried.
Stan Edgar, Vought's CEO, oversaw the whole empire—several pay grades above Madelyn. He never graced such banquets, yet tonight he'd done her the honor.
He drew her aside, first pressing two slips of paper into her hand—her bonus from the new contract.
Madelyn had seen plenty, but the figure stole her breath.
Stan's payout dwarfed anything she'd expected.
"I—I don't know what to say, sir," she stammered.
Edgar smiled. "'Thank you' will do."
"Thank you!" she said, every word heartfelt.
"There's a condition: move your office to the 82nd Floor," he added.
Madelyn's heart pounded. "That's your floor, isn't it?"
"You'll sit second chair in my meetings and run the company while I'm on leave," he said evenly. "Not that I'm retiring yet."
Madelyn knew—this was his way of anointing his successor.
She'd just been named crown princess; excitement left her speechless.
"Start picturing the view from 82," Stan tossed back with a grin, then strolled off, leaving her to digest it alone.
Madelyn felt the gods had dropped a pie on her head, but Edgar knew he had no better choice.
He was old enough to need a successor; his post-retirement package depended on it.
Only a strong Vought could guarantee him a comfortable exile.
If the company collapsed, even retirement wouldn't shield him from the fallout.
Yet across Vought, barely anyone was competent; Madelyn was already the best of a thin field.
As the original plot showed: after Madelyn died Ashley took over; after Stan fell, Ashley rose again.
So among Vought's sea of Shareholders, no one else could helm the CEO chair?
Homelander's backing mattered, but had the board offered someone stronger, even he couldn't have forced Ashley in.
Madelyn fought to stifle her grin, failed, laughed silently, then slowly regained composure.
Spotting Homelander's repeated glances, she slipped into the Corridor under the pretext of a toast.
Homelander followed; Fang Yuan had tasked him to keep Madelyn from returning to her office.
"Avoiding me?" Homelander asked.
"Of course not," she replied quickly.
He studied her eyes. "You know I visited Voughtbaum, right?"
It was her last chance; a confession now would spare her life.
Madelyn sighed. "I'm sorry—I didn't realize how badly that would hurt you."
The apology doused much of his rage.
Before he could speak, Madelyn seized him in a sudden, fierce kiss.
Homelander's words died against her tongue.
Without letting him recover, she steered him toward a private Suite.
Big Brother only said keep Madelyn out of her office—this counts, right? Homelander followed without protest.
And he did keep her occupied—by literally lifting her off her feet.
Madelyn's plan was simple: use herself to yank the increasingly uncontrollable Homelander back under her thumb.
Stan had just signaled she was heir apparent; she would not allow a misstep now.
So she weaponized Homelander's complex for her and sprang the trap without hesitation.
The effect was immediate and total.
The moment Homelander popped up, he was instantly deleted.
After all, this kind of thing was too much for Homelander, but then he remembered the mission he was carrying.
Stalling Madelyn for only three seconds wouldn't cut it.
So he pulled himself together and rose to the challenge—this time, much more calmly.
A long while later, both sides were done.
Homelander lay like a baby across Madelyn's lap.
He felt utterly content. Thanks to Madelyn's ultimate move, Homelander now believed that although she had messed up before, her sincere apology was enough for him to move on.
Still, he grumbled, "How could you do that? That was my child."
Madelyn stroked Homelander's head, delighting inside; she knew the gambit had worked—Homelander's words meant he had forgiven her.
All she needed now was a plausible explanation and the whole thing would be history.
She already had the perfect story, having coordinated with Dr. Voughtbaum beforehand.
With their stories aligned, what did she have to fear?
Madelyn sighed. "You carry so much responsibility; I just didn't want to hurt you."
"Losing the child you'd always longed for because of a miscarriage would hit you too hard..."
She didn't notice the instant change in Homelander's face as he lay across her thighs.
Madelyn kept talking, supremely confident her excuse was airtight.
Yes, Voughtbaum had told her he'd informed Homelander that Becca had died in a miscarriage and the baby hadn't survived the operation.
Madelyn believed him; Voughtbaum wouldn't lie about something like that. She even thought it a brilliant excuse—explaining the past and preventing future trouble.
True, Voughtbaum wouldn't deceive her—but Fang Yuan would.
Homelander's eyes turned icy; Madelyn had lied to him again!
Even now she tried to deceive him, driving Homelander into a fury. The spark that had smoldered since Black King's beating finally burst into flame.
"Big Brother told me to keep Madelyn from returning to the meeting room tonight—might as well make sure she never goes back at all," Homelander thought coldly.
He remembered promising to hand Vought to his brother, but Madelyn's presence made that difficult. Without her, it would be simple.
Madelyn was full of lies anyway; Homelander had no idea which of her words were true.
So he sat up at once and said, "Come on, I'll drive you home."
Madelyn was stunned; the banquet wasn't over yet.
But she couldn't refuse Homelander's insistence. The event was informal, so leaving early was acceptable, and having just manipulated him, she decided to indulge Homelander.
To her shock, once they reached her estate Homelander wordlessly vaporized the nanny with his heat vision and lifted the baby from her arms.
"His name is Teddy, right?" he cooed icily, feigning affection.
"What are you doing?!" Madelyn screamed.
She rushed to take Teddy back, but the red glow in Homelander's eyes froze her in place.
"I'm heartbroken—you lied to me, and you're still lying even now."
Homelander's tone shifted from sorrow to steel. "So I'll ask you one question; you must answer truthfully."
"Have you ever truly cared about me?" he asked, desperate for honesty.
"Of course!" Madelyn answered instantly. "I love you—so much!"
But her racing heart betrayed her anxiety. To be sure, Homelander raised Teddy before his still-glowing eyes.
"Tell the truth or I kill him. Answer again," Homelander commanded coldly.
Panicking—Teddy was her own son—Madelyn didn't dare gamble. She steeled herself and finally spoke her heart.
"I'm terrified of you—I always have been."
Homelander was completely disillusioned with Madelyn.
"Afraid that every bit of my care was fake," he said, tears rolling. "Thank you for your honesty."
"Teddy…" Madelyn resigned herself. Knowing she wouldn't survive, she begged Homelander to spare her son.
Mercifully, Homelander granted her one last kindness: "I won't kill him."
"Thank—" Before she could finish, a flash of red filled her vision, and then nothing.
Watching Madelyn's head melt from the laser, Homelander gazed skyward and fiercely wiped away his tears.
"Only Big Brother truly cares about me!"
That truth hit him harder than ever.
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