When the explosions and gunfire echoed down the corridors, Frenchie's first instinct was relief.
"Perhaps," he whispered, eyes widening, "reinforcements?"
"No," Hughie replied grimly.
Before coming to rescue Frenchie and Mother's Milk, he had gone to Annie. He had asked her for help. She had refused, hurt and angry, convinced he had lied to her from the beginning.
"She said she wasn't coming," Hughie muttered.
They were crouched behind a concrete support wall in the underground corridor. On the other side, heavily armed guards advanced in formation, boots thudding in rhythm. If nothing changed, they would be dragged back to their cells.
Just as the situation felt completely sealed—
A brilliant golden glow erupted ahead.
A figure stepped into view, radiant light shimmering around her body.
"Starlight!" Hughie shouted in disbelief.
She had come.
Frenchie exhaled sharply. "Your girlfriend… she is formidable."
Bullets struck her body and fell uselessly to the ground. She raised her arm and unleashed a concussive burst that sent several guards crashing backward like rag dolls. The momentum of the corridor fight shifted instantly.
Starlight and Hughie held the advancing line while Frenchie and Mother's Milk broke off toward an exit passage.
But when the two emerged into the main building, they froze.
The hallway was lined with bodies.
Armed personnel lay sprawled across the floor, some missing limbs, others pierced cleanly through the chest. The smell of burned flesh hung thick in the air.
Frenchie and Mother's Milk exchanged a look.
"Is the star girl that violent?" Frenchie asked under his breath.
Mother's Milk crouched beside one of the corpses.
The wound was circular. Clean. The edges were charred black.
He shook his head.
"No. That's not her power."
Frenchie leaned closer.
"This…" he said quietly, tracing the burned cut mark, "this looks like heat vision."
A cold understanding passed between them.
If it was Homelander—
They wouldn't have made it this far.
Mother's Milk stood up and grabbed a submachine gun from a fallen agent, unhooking a grenade and flashbang from the man's vest.
"If it were Homelander," he said firmly, "we'd already be dead."
Frenchie nodded. There was logic in that.
He stripped a uniform from another guard, pulled it on quickly, grabbed a rifle, and pocketed a grenade.
They located a facility map and chose a side exit to break through.
Meanwhile, in another wing of the underground structure, Starlight and Hughie faced a different problem.
A-Train stood blocking the corridor.
His thigh, once shattered by a sniper round, had healed after a fresh dose of Compound V. The faint scar was still visible through torn fabric.
"I caught you," he said, grinning. "Helping criminals escape. And him." He nodded toward Hughie.
Starlight stepped forward, golden light flickering in her eyes.
"Move."
"Homelander was right," A-Train sneered. "You really want us tearing each other apart."
His gaze shifted to Hughie.
"You don't get to walk away."
In a blur, he moved.
To Hughie, it felt like the air displaced.
The next second, A-Train was directly in front of him.
Hughie stiffened—then collapsed.
Starlight froze, energy pooling in her hand.
"Hughie?" she shouted.
But Hughie was already kneeling, not from injury.
A-Train had dropped to the ground.
Clutching his chest.
His breathing was ragged. Irregular.
"He can't breathe," Hughie said quickly, shifting into emergency response mode. He checked for a pulse with trembling fingers.
Starlight stared, stunned.
"He killed Robin," she said quietly.
Yet Hughie was already pressing down on A-Train's chest, counting compressions under his breath.
"Annie, help," he said.
She hesitated only a moment before kneeling beside him.
The rescue attempt was frantic. Desperate. Inefficient.
A-Train's eyes fluttered open briefly.
And then he saw him.
The Asian man in a guard uniform walking calmly toward them.
Recognition struck instantly.
It was the same man from the alley.
The one who had nearly killed him before.
A-Train's pupils dilated in terror.
His trembling intensified.
"What's wrong with him?" Starlight asked, confused by the sudden panic.
"It's natural," the man said lightly as he approached. "Patients react strongly when they see their saviors."
Hughie blinked. "He helped us before," he said quickly to Annie, sensing her confusion.
The man gave them a polite nod.
"I have superb medical skills," he added with a faint smile. "Let me."
Hughie and Starlight, uncertain but desperate, shifted aside.
A-Train lay on his back, barely conscious.
The man knelt beside him.
And without hesitation—
He drove his hand straight into A-Train's chest.
There was a sickening tearing sound, like puncturing stretched plastic.
His fingers slid through muscle and bone into the warm cavity beneath.
A-Train's eyes bulged.
A dry, broken cough escaped his lips.
He tried to lift his hands.
They barely twitched.
Hughie and Starlight stood frozen.
For a split second, their brains refused to process what they were seeing.
Then reality caught up.
"Oh my God—what the hell?!" Hughie shouted.
"What are you doing?!" Starlight screamed.
....
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