The sudden silence that followed the word "Vanguard" lasted for exactly half a second. Then, the press pit exploded into a feeding ground, throwing the entire place into immediate, screaming chaos.
Reporters lunged against the red velvet ropes, overwhelming the unprepared security guards who desperately tried to maintain a thin line of order. Cameras flashed in a blinding white light.
From the elevated podium, Homelander and Erasmus looked down at the human frenzy below. Homelander didn't flinch at the noise; he stood taller, his hand locked onto his son's shoulders.
He plastered on his best, camera-ready smile, while Erasmus simply maintained his signature calm, expressionless mask.
"Homelander! Over here! The Daily seven news!"
"Why Has Vought been hiding him?!"
"What are his capabilities? Is he a member of the Seven?!"
"Everyone, please! One at a time!" Ashley's came out from the side of the stage with a huge smile "We will have a full press release from Mr. Edgar's office shortly! Please maintain order!"
"Homelander! Over here! The Daily Seven News!" a veteran reporter shouted, his voice cutting cleanly through. "Vought just declared a State of Emergency over a 'Russian Leviathan' threat three days ago. Now you're introducing a firstborn son? Is Vanguard the answer to this foreign invasion?"
For a fraction of a second, the memory of the dark water, the freezing cold, and the humiliating violation he had suffered rushed across his skin. His jaw tightened, but he forced the mask back into place.
"The Leviathan?" Homelander scoffed into the microphone, his booming voice carrying a sharp, defensive edge. "Let's be clear about something. That godless, engineered freak didn't defeat anyone. It caught me off guard with a cowardly, low-life ambush, and then it ran away like a dog. It fled into the deepest, darkest hole it could find because it knows exactly what happens when I look it in the eye in a fair fight."
He tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder, leaning heavily over the podium.
"My son isn't here to clean up my messes. I don't need help from anyone, least of all a Russian bio-weapon built in a test tube. I am the most powerful superhero in the world. My son is here so that while I am hunting that lab rat down, our borders remain protected, our enemies are crushed, and every atheist hive out there learns that our great nation is completely untouchable."
"Vanguard! Look over here!" a female reporter yelled, shoving her microphone through a gap in the security shield wall. "How do you feel about your public debut? Are you ready to take your father's place?"
The silent boy finally moved. He leaned his mouth smoothly toward the microphone, his blue eyes unblinking and calm as he looked at her.
"I am not here to take my father's place," Aldrich said. His voice carried a resonant, hauntingly steady frequency that instantly cut through the roaring room. "I am here to stand by his side, and to share his burdens."
"That's my boy!" Homelander roared into the microphones, his face flushing with an immense, terrifying pride. He squeezed Aldrich's shoulder with sudden, overwhelming warmth.
"Why the name Vanguard?!" a reporter barked from the front row, desperate to keep them on stage. "What does it mean?!"
"Earlier today, my father took me on my first mission," Erasmus said, his gaze sweeping across the flashing cameras. "We tracked down the super-terrorist known as Naqib. I was tasked with leading the assault. I killed the enemy combatants, and I ripped Naqib's heart out myself. My father named me Vanguard because I am the tip of the spear. I am the first line of defense, and the first to strike."
Vought's marketing department had spent all morning forcing that "Vanguard" name down his throat, drilling him to tell the media that Homelander was the one who brilliantly thought it up.
In reality, Homelander had spent hours aggressively insisting his son's name should be Homeboy. It was truly bizarre how seamlessly those humans in marketing could control the apex of this world.
A collective, breathless gasp rippled through the press corps. The horrific, graphic detail hung heavily in the air, instantly freezing the room.
Homelander's triumphant grin locked into place. His eyes widened slightly as a flash of panic crossed his face. He certainly hadn't expected the boy to casually mention the gory details of the execution on live television.
Quickly recovering, Homelander stepped back up to the podium. He let out a loud, slightly awkward laugh to break the stunned silence, clapping a heavy hand onto his son's shoulder to steer him away from the microphone.
"Haha! Alright! A bit graphic, but that's what happens when you mess with my boy!" Homelander boomed, his voice carrying a forced, strained cheerfulness as he flashed a look at Ashley. "That's all the time we have for today, folks! The Seven have a war to win!"