After Deadshot and Amanda parted ways, he raced toward the Allen residence, the site of the previous chaos. By the time he arrived, night had fully fallen, and the house lay half-collapsed before him. Deadshot frowned at the devastation.
Stepping over rubble into the courtyard, the first sight that met him was a Falcon Squad member sprawled on the ground, motionless. Carefully, he approached, his pistol drawn, assessing the grim scene. The member's upper and lower body were horrifyingly severed, the result of some violent force. Deadshot's brow tightened.
He crouched to inspect the body, enduring the metallic stench of blood. Standing, he reported into his communicator, "Amanda, there's a Falcon Special Operations member deceased here. The cause of death…" He paused, then continued, "Severe blood loss. The body was split by some form of energy—or a weapon with intense heat."
"What about the others?" Amanda's voice came urgently through the earpiece. "Deadshot, tell me you didn't only find one."
"Of course not," Deadshot replied, scanning the wreckage with his tactical goggles. "The others are buried beneath the collapsed residence. As far as I can tell, no survivors."
His eyes darkened. "Whatever fought here, it wasn't human. The destruction, the casualties… nothing ordinary could've caused this."
A voice, calm and cold, echoed from behind. Deadshot whirled, spotting a young man standing in the shadows.
"It seems your skills aren't just in shooting. You're perceptive, too," the man said.
Adrian studied Deadshot casually. Deadshot, real name Floyd Lawton Jr., was a legendary marksman, a mercenary renowned as the deadliest shooter on Earth. The man in front of him knew this—and showed no fear.
Deadshot activated his tactical helmet. The metallic faceplate locked in place, a red glow flaring over his right eye. His submachine gun was in hand in an instant.
"Who are you?" Deadshot demanded.
"Homelander," Adrian said with a shrug.
Deadshot scoffed. "That name doesn't suit you."
"Then who does?" Adrian stepped forward, effortlessly crumpling Deadshot's gun in one hand. Ignoring Deadshot's shock, he said, "I know you work for Amanda. Now, why are you here?"
"What—?"
Thud!
Adrian moved faster than Deadshot could react. Pain exploded through his body as if his soul had been ripped from him. Blood spurted from his mouth; he collapsed to the ground. His skill with firearms had no effect.
"You don't understand your situation," Adrian said, expressionless, standing over him.
Clutching his chest, Deadshot gasped. "Did… you kill these soldiers too?"
"Yes and no. They were already dead. I merely ended their suffering," Adrian replied, ignoring Deadshot's small, feeble movements to reach for his pistol.
Fury and pain ignited Deadshot's resolve. He fired, one, two, three rounds. His shots were precise; all escape routes covered. Yet, to his disbelief, Adrian simply blocked each bullet with a hand, letting them clatter harmlessly to the ground.
"The bullets you rely on are useless," Adrian said, shaking his head. He advanced, grabbing Deadshot by the neck and lifting him with terrifying strength. A faint red glow flared in his eyes. Heat vision shot from his gaze, piercing Deadshot's shoulder.
Ugh!
Sweat poured, his ribs shattered under the pressure. The pain was unrelenting, breaking both body and nerve. Adrian released him to the ground. "I won't ask twice. Tell me everything you know."
Terrified, Deadshot revealed Amanda Waller's plans. Adrian's expression remained unreadable. After a final cold snort, he sped off, transforming into a streak of light, disappearing from the ruined courtyard.
Early the next morning, unexpected visitors arrived at Kent Farm. They were not military or Amanda's agents, but Pat and Courtney from Blue Valley.
Adrian had not anticipated their sudden appearance. "Though abrupt, we came for you," Pat said.
Jonathan and Martha were away at Sir Winters' house, leaving Adrian and Clark at the farm.
"It's about Smallville's weather," Courtney explained urgently. "Blue Valley had similar issues. It was caused by the Devourer of Heaven, born in Shadow Land. The black diamond that imprisoned him is broken—if unchecked, his darkness will consume the world."
He will manipulate minds, distort reality, and leave nothing untouched, she added, her tone tight with concern.
"Only light can oppose him," Pat said. "Adrian, you now hold the Staff. You might be the only one capable of fighting him."
Adrian considered the weight of their words. "I've already faced his true form," he admitted.
Pat and Courtney looked stunned. "You've seen him?"
"Yes. I can see through his illusions. Nothing he hides behind darkness can fool me."
"Starman defeated him once, right?" Adrian asked.
"Yes," Pat said, surprised Adrian knew.
Courtney's expression darkened. "You never told me before."
"I kept it from you," Adrian said. "It's the past we'd both rather leave buried. Bruce Gordon was the first host. We had to vote whether to kill him to seal the Devourer of Heaven. I opposed it, but the vote decided his death. It was… unavoidable."
Pat hung his head. "I'm just Starman's sidekick. Decisions like that aren't mine to make."
Adrian nodded silently, absorbing the gravity of what they'd revealed. Outside, the morning sun rose over Smallville.
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