[Japan – Morning Sky – Patrol Flight]
The sun rose golden behind the mountains, casting a soft light across the archipelago. I cut through the sky at moderate speed, above the clouds, watching the Japanese cities come to life beneath me. The cold breeze reminded me that no matter how powerful I was, I was still part of the world — not its master.
I flew over Musutafu, then Osaka, then Tokyo. On the way, I interrupted two minor crimes. The first: a man with a duplication quirk was trying to rob a jewelry store, creating illusory copies of himself. My X-ray vision was enough to identify the real one among the clones, and one swift move immobilized him.
The second: a woman who controlled electricity was threatening passengers on a subway train. I approached slowly, neutralized the electric field with a concentrated blast of my freezing breath, and immobilized her before she could do serious harm. No injuries. All before the police even arrived.
'This kind of thing reminds me why I started flying. Why I chose to be more than just a bystander.'
But just as I was preparing to return, I heard it.
A whisper.
No... a scream.
Far away. Very far away.
Across the Pacific.
Like a needle in the world's cacophony, someone in New York City was screaming for help.
My body reacted before I even processed it.
"New York."
The voice echoed inside me. I narrowed my eyes, increased my speed until I broke the sound barrier, and shot forward like a silver comet.
When I arrived, the city was in chaos. Smoke rose from multiple points, cars were overturned, buildings damaged, wounded heroes being rescued. The sound of sirens was drowned by something more powerful — the roar of a villain.
In the middle of the street stood a gigantic man, with anomalous muscles and skin as black as obsidian, crushing everything in his path. His quirk seemed to be a mix of super strength and continuous muscle expansion — the more damage he took, the bigger he became.
"FANTASY HEROES ! USELESS !" he roared, hurling a bus into a police station.
I landed hard, cracking the asphalt beneath my feet.
"That's enough."
He turned. Smiled, revealing sharp teeth.
"Another caped insect ?"
Without answering, I advanced. We clashed mid-air. Blow for blow. Each punch from him shattered windows. Each strike from me made him stagger. A blast of my heat vision scorched part of his shoulder.
I curved through the air and kicked him hard in the chest. He screamed in pain, slamming into the pavement.
Within minutes, he was down. Groaning. Struggling to breathe.
I turned to help the injured civilians.
"Are you okay ? Get out of here, quickly !"
Using X-ray vision, I located a child trapped under debris and flew to her. Carefully, I pulled her out and handed her to arriving firefighters.
But then...
Something moved behind me.
Fast.
Very fast.
I spun around at super speed.
Ready to counterattack.
But what I saw froze me in place.
The villain's giant fist — grotesquely enlarged by his mutation — was being held mid-air by someone else. Another young man. Blond. Muscular. Piercing blue eyes. A cold, marble-like expression.
He slowly turned his face toward me.
"You were distracted. Lucky for you, I heard the cry for help too."
And with a single punch, the villain was launched with such force he vanished into the sky — a dark dot shooting past the horizon.
Silence.
Dust.
I stepped closer, still on guard.
"...Who are you ?"
He stared at me. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"They call me Homelander."
My mind froze.
The name echoed in my head like a distorted scream.
Homelander.
It couldn't be.
Not here.
Not in this world.
My skin tingled. Every muscle tensed. That aura, that gaze… it wasn't just power. It was control. A social predator disguised as a protector.
"…That's impossible," I murmured.
He stepped closer slowly. The ruined city behind him. Blood dripping from his fist. His eyes still glowing electric blue.
"And you… you're interesting, Superman. People are talking about you. Big things. Looks like someone of my level."
That wasn't a compliment.
It was a challenge.
"Careful, Superman. You might end up flying too close to the sun," he said with hidden sadism in his calm voice, then took off, leaving behind questions and shattered concrete.
My internal questions were interrupted by the sound of the villain falling at high speed. I rose and caught him with a midair spin, a few meters above the ground. Scanning him with my X-ray vision, I saw the damage Homelander had done.
Broken ribs. Punctured lung. Fractured pelvis. Severe concussion. And an extremely faint pulse.
'Damn it.'
I thought, frustrated, and holding the villain tightly, I shot off toward the nearest hospital.
[New York City – Skies Above Manhattan – Homelander's Perspective]
The wind up here was calm. The city burned below, black smoke and hysterical sirens rising… and yet the sky was clear. Blue. Almost beautiful.
I floated motionless. Static.
Above it all.
As it should be.
Below, the "hero of the moment," that damned silver-haired boy, cradled an injured civilian in his arms — with all the care in the world. His eyes glowed with concern, as if it meant something. As if those ants deserved any effort.
Pathetic.
I could hear the rapid heartbeat of the child in his arms, the mother's sobs, the clapping of the firefighters... it was all disgusting.
'Look at him… the new messiah. The savior. The perfect prodigy.'
Revan.
The name repeated in my head like slow poison.
Everyone talked about him now. From the moment he hit the global radar, agencies went into a frenzy. An "S-class," young, strong, smart… handsome. "Too human to be feared," they said. Inspiring.
Revolting.
I clenched my fists slowly, fingers cracking under restrained force.
Don't they see ? Doesn't he see ?
That boy… is the final mistake. The ultimate flaw of this wretched species. He has the power. My level of power. The perfect structure. Supremacy in his blood.
And yet…
He still bends down to pick up garbage.
I watched him kneel, gently placing the civilian on a stretcher. Saying something to the paramedics. Something kind. Something human.
A hot rage flared in my chest like a fever.
How dare he ?
How can someone with that strength still care about these… crawling vermin?
They don't deserve him. Don't deserve me. Never have.
Hero ?
No.
That's just a disguise. A grotesque play I was forced to act in since day one. "Protector." "Example." "Hope."
Hope for who ?
Those suit-wearing rats who lie, steal, kill in secret?
Those crowds who cheer me today and will hate me tomorrow if I stop smiling for pictures?
They're all... weak. Mediocre. Small.
And now they have him.
A new symbol. A cleaner mirror. A promise of a better savior.
I should admire him. I should feel honored to have a rival at my level.
But all I feel… is hate.
Because he doesn't just want to be the strongest.
He wants to be good.
And that… that makes him worse than them.
He wants to play the game. Play fair. Help. Save.
It's a joke. A freak show.
With that much power in his hands… and he still wants to carry the wounded?
He still believes in the illusion of humanity.
I smiled. A smile that didn't touch my eyes.
'Revan… you're not like me. You're a flaw.'
You're the worst kind of traitor: the one who could rule… and chooses to kneel.
So yes, today I smiled when I caught that villain for you. Smiled when you turned to me with that ridiculous look of gratitude.
But soon… that smile will disappear.
Because you, Revan Whitmore, are not my ally.
You are the final obstacle between me and a world ready to accept the truth:
That I am a god.
And gods… don't save.
They rule.