In four minutes, the quiet neighborhood turned into a Vought-branded war zone. Tactical teams swarmed the perimeter, evacuating residents and turning the adjacent homes into sniper nests.
Above, news helicopters circled like vultures, their cameras locked on the porch, waiting for Homelander to save the day so Vought could finally stop the spiraling PR disaster.
Aldrich stood on the porch, taking in the chaos and the noise. Beside him, Sarah was a shaking, sobbing wreck, her breath coming in ragged hitches.
Aldrich looked at her, still genuinely amazed by her resourcefulness. He had wanted to continue learning from her, but the time for theories was over. It was time for a practical application.
"Why are you still standing here? You can leave. You earned it," Aldrich said. He reached out and wiped a tear from her face, his voice soft. "You have done very well today. I'm sure this little life is extraordinarily lucky to receive guidance from you."
She ran straight into the wall of tactical shields, and the teams secured her as if she were worth a billion dollars. And she was. They had been strictly instructed to prioritize her above all else; the sheer volume of interviews and PR Vought would milk from her would rival the Seven for a long time.
Aldrich watched her disappear into the safety of the vans, then he looked at the sky.
Homelander arrived with a sonic boom, but he wasn't looking at Aldrich. He was waving and smiling for the choppers. He actually went to Sarah first, posing for a photo with the "rescued widow" while Aldrich just stood there, ignored.
In Homelander's mind, he was the most powerful Supe in existence. Even if Aldrich attempted to run or fly away, he could catch him in seconds. It would be better if he attempted to do that; his approval rating would shoot through the roof. But seeing the boy paralyzed with fear was also good.
"Okay buddy," Homelander said, finally turning toward the porch with a smile. "You made quite a mess, but I caught you this time. How do you want to play this out? Do you want to fly and have me chase you? Do you want a beating? How do you want to go down?"
Aldrich smiled. He lifted his hands slowly, keeping them near his head. "What's the point? You're faster and stronger than me. I would have liked to fly to the sea and hide, but I think you would catch me."
Homelander's grin widened in pure pleasure. "You're right. I am faster. I am stronger. But I can't let you just surrender. You killed people. Good, innocent people. You terrorized this poor woman. You don't get to just give up."
"But that wouldn't be fair," Aldrich said quietly.
"OH, SO NOW YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT'S FAIR?" Homelander's voice boomed, projecting for every microphone on the street. He looked at the cameras, basking in the nods of the tactical teams and the cheers from the livestreams. "AFTER TERRORIZING THESE PEOPLE? THE REAL HEROES FOR STANDING UP TO YOU?"
Homelander raised his voice so that everyone could listen, especially the cameras, making the teams nod their heads and the people watching cheer.
"No," Aldrich said, his voice flat and calm. "I don't have any fear of fighting you. The problem is... like I told you before. I still haven't learned how to fly. And we only have six minutes left before time runs out."
I still haven't learned how to fly. Six minutes.
The world went quiet for Homelander. Those words, so out of place and so specific, acted like a spell that locked his joints. His brain worked overtime, trying to connect two impossible identities.
The scrawny, filthy thing with the scar and the black rags was gone, replaced by this. But the voice was an exact match. The cold, empty eyes were the same.
While Homelander was stunned, his mind stuck in a loop, Aldrich made his move. Homelander was standing a medium distance away. It wasn't ideal; Aldrich wanted him closer for a clean kill, but closer meant variables. He might react. He might catch his hands.
So, Aldrich brought his palms together right where he stood.
BOOOOOM
It wasn't just a clap, it was a localized atmospheric collapse. The shockwave erased the air in the driveway. Homelander was swept off his feet like a leaf in a hurricane, his hands flying to his head as his eardrums and inner ears were liquefied. Deep, dark blood erupted from his ear canals, staining his blonde hair and pristine cape.
But the destruction didn't stop at the target.
Aldrich had severely miscalculated the physics of his own evolution. He had expected the "pathetic" rattle he'd felt from Supersonic back at the intersection.
He didn't realize that by powering a sonic clap with Homelander's raw strength, the resulting pressure wave would reach levels Supersonic couldn't even dream of.
The row of police cruisers and Vought special teams was flattened and launched away. The news helicopters a hundred feet up flipped upside down, throwing most of the crew.
The shockwave shattered their rotors and sent them spiraling into the adjacent buildings. The tactical teams in the sniper nests were deafened; the pressure burst their lungs and threw them through the back walls of the houses.
Aldrich stared at the crawling, screaming thing on the pavement. Homelander was deaf, disoriented, and panicked.
Aldrich could tell instantly that this man was no soldier. There was no dignity here. No honor. He was just a terrified animal, thrashing in a world that had suddenly gone quiet and dark.
This was the inherent defect of being born the most powerful. Why train when you are already the most powerful? Why learn to fight when everyone else is made of glass?
But like the elders say when gods fall, they fall harder than anyone else. They fall with no pride. They fall screaming, begging, and crying, stripping away any semblance of victory in the hunt.
Aldrich felt a cold flicker of disappointment. He had expected a challenge, an apex struggle. Instead, he had just broken a very fragile, very loud toy.
But for the first time in his existence, Aldrich felt a cold feeling inside.
Fear and terror.
It wasn't Homelander he was afraid of; it was the reflection. He realized how easily this could have been him. When he was infected by that blood, he had been just as arrogant. He had been loud and talkative, just like the man now clawing at the pavement.
And what was even more terrifying was that even now, Aldrich didn't want this to end. It was too easy. This man was his ultimate hunt, but he was pathetic, a grand hunt that can't be shared or celebrated.
Aldrich walked up to the crawling thing. He gripped its feet firmly and began dragging it toward the sea.
Homelander, feeling the crisis, started thrashing harder. He was a blind, panicked animal. He attempted to fly, but his equilibrium was gone, sending him crashing back into the dirt. He began lasering randomly, red beams slicing through the smoke and the ruined houses in a desperate tantrum, but Aldrich didn't stop.
He didn't flinch at the heat or the noise. He just kept dragging the weight, focused on ending the miserable struggle.