…
Before leaving, Nick Fury suddenly seemed to remember something. He pulled two photographs from inside his coat and handed them to Leon.
Leon glanced at them.
One was a photo of the massive S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem displayed in the lobby of S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.
The other was a high-resolution close-up of the shield Leon had held during his speech earlier that day.
"Why," Fury asked evenly, "does your shield look exactly like the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem?"
"No," Leon corrected calmly. "You've got the causality backwards."
"The real question is—why does S.H.I.E.L.D.'s emblem look exactly like my shield?"
A flash of golden light flickered in his palm. The two photographs instantly turned to ash.
Fury's eye twitched.
Fine. The question had been unnecessary anyway. Most likely it traced back to Howard Stark.
After all, the Stark brothers didn't know.
But Fury did.
Howard Stark had been one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s founders. Leaving a little something behind for his sons wouldn't be out of character.
If Leon knew what Fury was thinking, he would probably laugh himself sick.
The imagination on this man…
Sometimes people really do argue on your behalf without you even trying.
…
With that matter settled, Leon and Tony naturally became founding members of the Avengers.
From this point forward, as long as they could assert superiority—whether through strength or sheer force of personality—they would hold decisive influence within the team.
But in the short term, America seemed relatively quiet.
With no major crises erupting, Leon drifted back into his indulgent lifestyle.
Every so often, however, he would suit up as Homelander, stepping out to suppress crime and maintain his public approval ratings.
To that end, he even launched a social media account—fully managed by Arcee, who now doubled as his ride and field camerawoman.
…
An abandoned apartment complex—currently serving as a meth production site.
Outside, a heavily armed tactical unit had set up a perimeter.
Inside, Leon walked in openly, Arcee beside him in Partner Mode.
To avoid attracting unnecessary public attention, Arcee activated her built-in holographic projection system, disguising herself as an almost perfectly realistic human woman.
Since she had asked Leon for aesthetic input, and Leon had never pretended otherwise about his tastes, he chose what pleased him most.
Arcee's disguise bore an unmistakable resemblance to a certain iconic video game heroine—long dark hair, striking features, athletic build.
Aside from her Cybertronian origin and slightly cooler temperament, the resemblance was uncanny.
Intelligent. Beautiful. Steadfast. Brave.
Almost every flattering word applicable to a woman could describe both.
"Gentlemen," Leon called out as he stepped inside, "I have a strict policy against drugs."
Two men packaging crystal meth looked up—
"Homelander?!" ×2
They panicked, scrambling for the pistols tucked into their waistbands.
Leon raised his hand.
Two concentrated golden blasts erupted from his palm.
Their upper bodies were obliterated instantly.
He moved into the next room.
The dealers inside had been ready. AK-pattern rifles spat fire the moment he crossed the doorway.
Bullets rained down.
And bounced.
Flattened rounds clattered to the ground in metallic chorus.
In the drug traffickers' widening eyes, despair took hold.
"AAAAAA—!" ×N
From the tactical unit's perspective outside, terrified screams echoed through the building.
Every time a flash of gold illuminated a room, the screams diminished.
Until—
Silence.
Unlike Starlight's concussive bursts, Leon's palm cannons were lethal and precise. No one inside survived.
"Whew."
Leon wiped imaginary sweat from his brow.
"Got it all?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yes."
Arcee's holographic eyes projected the recorded footage outward. They reviewed the battle briefly.
The overwhelming victory was… satisfying.
"Same as usual," Leon instructed. "Highlight the best shots."
"Split it into two versions."
"One all-ages cut with heavy censorship. Post it immediately."
"The second—uncensored. Eighteen-plus access only."
"Thirty per month. One-ninety-eight per year. Nine-ninety-eight for lifetime premium."
"Understood, boss."
Arcee crossed her arms and began editing midair with virtual interfaces.
Within seconds, both versions were uploaded.
Thanks to the Homelander brand—and Arcee's clean, cinematic editing—approval was instantaneous.
Each vlog, enhanced by Leon's natural golden aura and Arcee's production quality, felt like a high-budget Hollywood blockbuster.
Combined with superhero celebrity status, Leon's channel rapidly surpassed one hundred million subscribers—and was still climbing.
When Leon and Arcee exited the building, the tactical officers waiting outside approached with open admiration.
"Homelander. Ma'am. Thank you."
Leon gave them a charismatic smile.
"I'm just doing what I should."
"You're the real heroes."
He wrapped an arm casually around Arcee's waist.
A sonic boom followed.
They shot into the sky and vanished.
…
Later that evening.
Stark Tower.
Leon stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the ant-like figures moving through the streets below.
Behind him, Sharon Carter—acting as his executive secretary—stood quietly.
Today she wore a fitted black dress with sheer stockings. She seemed hesitant, watching him in silence.
"Mr. Stark," she asked gently, "is something troubling you?"
"Troubling?" Leon turned sharply.
"That's not something you need to concern yourself with."
"Have today's reports been handled?"
"Y-yes. They're finished."
She smoothed her dress unconsciously, cheeks faintly flushed.
"That fast?"
Leon stepped closer, guiding her toward the desk.
"Let me take a look."
Sharon faced the computer screen, leaning slightly forward as she operated the mouse with professional precision. Confidential Stark Industries files opened one by one across the monitor.
And she began carefully briefing her famously hands-off boss on the day's corporate matters…
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