Butcher did not give up easily.
He paced the length of the safe house, laying everything out again for Frenchie and Mother's Milk. Over the past few weeks, they had connected enough dots to form a disturbing pattern. Vought had been operating through a so-called charity, Samaritan's Embrace, since 1971. Founded by a woman named Izzy, it presented itself as a faith-based outreach program. In reality, it functioned as a distribution pipeline.
Through that organization, Vought had quietly shipped Compound V to more than fifty hospitals worldwide. Infants were injected shortly after birth. When powers manifested years later, it was marketed as divine blessing. God's chosen. Miracles.
But there were inconsistencies.
The case of the so-called Beast Girl—an adult injected with something different—didn't match the infant program model. That meant experimentation had continued beyond nurseries.
And now they had a living subject who had walked out of Sage Grove alive.
Butcher had seen the footage of the "gas explosion" at Sage Grove Center. As someone who once worked alongside federal investigators, he knew what structural damage from natural gas looked like. That crater had not been caused by combustion alone.
Something else had happened inside that facility.
Something violent.
And Ethan Pierce had been there.
"Vought's official line is that every patient died in that explosion," Butcher said, stopping in front of them. "You're telling me you want to let the only surviving link walk away?"
Frenchie and Mother's Milk exchanged a look.
"He might be the missing piece," Butcher continued. "The evidence we can't get on paper."
"I've already spoken to Susan Rayner," he added. "Deputy Director, CIA. If we bring her enough proof, she'll legitimize us. Frenchie, you won't have to live in the shadows anymore."
The room went quiet.
When they replayed their interactions with Ethan in their minds, neither of them could point to obvious instability. He was blunt. Detached. Ruthless. But not erratic.
After a long pause, Frenchie exhaled. "Fine. We speak to him."
Hughie's opinion, currently occupied elsewhere with Starlight's public meltdown, was left out of the decision entirely.
—
"What exactly did you bring me here for?" Ethan asked calmly. "This isn't a nostalgia trip, is it?"
He sat comfortably in their newly relocated safe house, stirring a fresh cup of coffee. The television murmured in the background, cycling through Vought's latest crisis management segment.
The team stood opposite him.
Butcher stepped forward first.
"We've been honest with you," he began. "But you didn't mention you came out of Sage Grove. Or that you were committed there."
Ethan turned his head slowly.
The tension in the room sharpened.
Mother's Milk watched him carefully. Frenchie kept his hands loosely at his sides.
"I don't recall being obligated to disclose my medical history," Ethan replied. "Do you announce yours to strangers?"
Butcher's jaw tightened. "Vought claims the explosion was a gas accident. You were inside. You know what really happened."
Ethan didn't hesitate.
"I started the riot," he said plainly. "I needed a distraction to leave."
The bluntness caught them off guard.
"And what were they doing there?" Mother's Milk asked.
"Human experimentation."
The words landed heavy.
"They were testing variations of Compound V. On patients who couldn't fight back."
Silence fell over the room.
They had known Vought injected babies. They had suspected cover-ups. But forcibly experimenting on psychiatric patients crossed into something darker.
It explained why Ethan had targeted Vought so directly.
Mother's Milk muttered under his breath. "They can't keep getting away with this."
Ethan leaned back. "Is that all you wanted?"
Butcher straightened. "We want you to testify. In court. If we prove Vought's crimes, the whole structure collapses."
Ethan stared at him for a long moment.
Then he laughed quietly.
"You want to use the legal system against a corporation with over two hundred supes, a privatized military agenda, and a man who can level cities with his eyes?"
No one answered.
"Homelander alone is a walking nuclear deterrent," Ethan continued. "And you think subpoenas will scare them?"
He took another sip of coffee.
"And even if I agreed, do you think Vought wouldn't weaponize my psychiatric records? I was legally institutionalized. They'll call me delusional. Hallucinatory. Unreliable."
They all knew he was right.
Vought's legal department would dismantle his credibility in minutes.
Butcher's argument stalled.
Ethan stood.
"If that's everything, I'm leaving."
He walked toward the door, then paused.
"Oh. If you hear where the Deep ends up after this mess, let me know."
He gestured toward the television. The news was replaying Starlight's explosive accusations from the Faith Expo. The fallout was spreading fast. Public outrage demanded consequences.
The Deep would almost certainly be removed from the spotlight and reassigned to some quiet corner of the country.
An opportunity.
Ethan left without waiting for a response.
—
Back at his own safe house, Ethan felt no frustration from the meeting.
If anything, he was amused.
He had already eliminated two members of the Seven. The trajectory was clear.
A translucent interface appeared before him.
[Multiverse Role-Playing System]
[Template Unlock Progress: 20.8%]
[Next Milestone: 30.0%]
[Destruction Ray: LV2 – 10.3%]
[Superhuman Physique: LV2 – 12.2%]
[Super Evolution: LV1 – 0.5%]
[Role Value: 1462]
Sunlight streamed through the window as he focused inward.
With a thought, he allocated points.
The Role Value dropped sharply. Super Evolution surged.
Heat spread through his veins, familiar but stronger this time. His muscles tightened, bones subtly reinforcing. Cells accelerated.
[Super Evolution – Level Up]
Information flooded his awareness.
Enhanced resistance to fatal damage.
Accelerated regeneration.
He flexed his hand slowly.
"So it adapts to lethal thresholds," he murmured.
His body was becoming something far more efficient.
As he examined the changes, his phone rang.
Harris.
"Boss," Harris said, voice tight. "We might have a problem."
Ethan leaned back. "Go on."
Since aligning himself with Ethan, Harris had grown ambitious. With a powerful supe backing him, he had started consolidating smaller criminal outfits into a controlled network. Ethan allowed it. An independent intelligence web would be useful.
"I got a message from someone in the Grizzly Gang," Harris continued. "Told me to 'watch my ears and horse eyes' tonight. I don't fully get it. Feels like a supe threat."
Ethan's expression shifted slightly.
Horse eyes.
He remembered.
There was a supe with the ability to shrink without external equipment. Enhanced durability in miniature form. Strong enough to be lethal despite his size.
He had a reputation for invasive tactics—using his ability to enter confined spaces inside the human body before expanding back to full size.
A grotesque method of assassination.
Compound V had given him the power. He had chosen how to use it.
Ethan's gaze hardened.
"Stay put," he said calmly. "I'll handle it."
The line went silent as he stood and headed for the door.
....
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