For Vought, this was the cleanest solution available.
The Deep was given a polished narrative. He would "expand environmental outreach initiatives" in Ohio. Officially, it was a strategic reassignment. In reality, it was exile with a press release attached.
It was better than the alternative.
If he refused to leave gracefully, Homelander might personally ensure he exited with finality.
The Deep understood that better than anyone. He had worked alongside Homelander long enough to know that the man operated purely on mood. Approval one day. Indifference the next. Lethal irritation without warning.
And lately, the look in Homelander's eyes carried very little patience.
As he packed his belongings in the Seven's corridor, Starlight walked past and slowed just enough to twist the knife.
"Oh," she said lightly, "so this is what it feels like to be second-tier. I guess I should support your environmental journey."
Deep glared at her, gripping the edge of a box. "What does this even do for you? What do you get out of this?"
He didn't understand why she would expose him publicly when she knew the internal consequences. She had endured the same system once.
Starlight shrugged.
"The benefit? I don't have to see creeps like you every day."
She took a step closer and let her gaze drop deliberately.
"And by the way," she added with a thin smile, gesturing a short distance between her fingers, "it's really not that impressive."
The blow landed harder than the public apology.
Deep's jaw tightened as she walked away.
—
Inside the Tower of the Seven, only four members now stood in the conference chamber.
Homelander paced in front of them.
"I thought we were supposed to function as a team," he said, voice low but vibrating with contained rage. "But some sewer rats think they can hunt us."
He stopped.
"Translucent is dead. Black Noir is dead. And you're all acting like this is normal."
His gaze locked onto Starlight.
"Or maybe," he continued, "someone inside thinks this is convenient."
The air shifted.
Starlight felt it instantly—the predatory focus, the coiling tension. Her skin prickled.
"I don't," she said quickly.
"Shut up."
In a blur, Homelander closed the distance and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. Red light flickered at the corners of his eyes.
The others froze.
He was capable of killing her without hesitation.
Queen Maeve stepped forward.
"She's selfish," Maeve said evenly. "Not conspiratorial."
Homelander paused.
For a second, calculation replaced fury.
He dropped Starlight, letting her collapse to the floor.
"I've already had A-Train dig," he said, turning away. "That little black-ops group that used to investigate us? They're back. And they've added a new member."
His eyes slid back to Starlight.
"Your boyfriend."
The implication hung in the air.
"Preparations can begin," Homelander said quietly.
—
Ethan watched the early-morning press conference on television and reached for his phone.
It was time to move on The Deep.
After two consecutive losses within the Seven, Vought would be alert. They would be searching aggressively now.
He could not rely solely on Butcher's group for information.
If the pattern held, Vought would soon identify the identities of the Boys. A-Train would likely be the first to act. In the original chain of events, he had traced Hughie and stormed his house—only to be ambushed and left injured.
But that ambush had involved Kimiko.
Kimiko was no longer present.
That variable changed everything.
"Harris," Ethan said, dialing.
"Boss," Harris replied immediately. "I joined a Homelander fan forum using a burner account."
Ethan gave a small nod. "Good. Any movement from the Boys?"
"No movement yet."
Ethan frowned slightly.
Then Harris's phone rang again. He glanced at Ethan, who nodded.
Harris answered, listened for several seconds, and turned serious.
"Quake's people just reported. One of the losers left the safe house. Looks like he's heading home."
Hughie.
"Tell them to tail him. Notify us when he's close," Ethan said.
They got in the car.
About a kilometer from Hughie's neighborhood, Ethan told Harris to pull over.
"Why here?" Harris asked quietly.
"If A-Train's cautious, he'll scout first. We don't want him spotting us."
They waited until confirmation came through.
Then they proceeded.
Ethan parked at a distance and scanned the area carefully. It didn't take long for him to notice a faint glint of glass on a nearby rooftop.
Binoculars.
Butcher.
Without Kimiko, he had chosen the sniper route himself.
Ethan settled inside the car and raised his own binoculars toward Hughie's house.
Through the window, he could see A-Train confronting Hughie inside.
Then—
Boom.
A single rifle shot cracked through the neighborhood.
Inside the house, A-Train heard it too.
The word sniper flashed through his mind.
He tried to move.
The bullet struck his thigh.
The impact shattered muscle and bone with a wet snap. Agonizing pain exploded up his spine.
"Oh—fuck!"
He collapsed instantly, clutching his leg as it spasmed violently.
"Ahhh! I'll kill you!"
"You brought a sniper?" he shouted toward Hughie, fury mixing with panic.
He had scouted the area. He had circled. He had been careful.
He had not anticipated a long-range rifle.
Even his enhanced physiology couldn't shrug off a high-caliber round like that.
Through the pain, A-Train understood something else.
He needed to leave. Now.
The setup wasn't random. They had prepared.
"You think you can catch me like this?" he snarled at Hughie. "Dream on!"
Rolling onto his side, he planted both hands and his uninjured leg against the floor. His broken thigh lifted awkwardly, useless, as he forced himself forward in a grotesque crawl.
Then he burst through the door and launched himself into the street, dragging his injured limb behind him.
Inside the house, Hughie and his father stared in stunned disbelief.
....
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