At a downtown bank in New York City, the piercing wail of police sirens tore through the afternoon tranquility.
Dozens of police cruisers surrounded the building, forming an impenetrable blockade, while the red dots of sniper rifles silently roamed across the glass facade.
Queen Maeve stood in front of a fully armed tactical squad, holding a megaphone as she attempted to negotiate with the robbers inside.
"Listen up! You are completely surrounded! Put down your weapons, and I can guarantee your safety!"
Just as her voice faded, a streak of red and blue light plummeted from the sky, accompanied by a deafening sonic boom.
Boom!
Homelander slammed heavily into the ground, shattering the hard asphalt into a spiderweb of cracks.
He did not even spare Maeve a glance; his vision had already pierced through the thick reinforced concrete walls.
Inside the bank, the hearts of four masked robbers pounded wildly in their chests. Several hostages huddled in the corner, trembling uncontrollably.
This was not the robbers' first rodeo, but they were still terrified whenever they had to participate in a staged performance involving Homelander. After all, quite a few of their "colleagues" had been accidentally killed by him in the past.
Homelander's super hearing took in this entire symphony of fear.
His gaze focused, sweeping past those terrified faces before finally locking onto an Asian man.
One of the robbers was of Asian descent.
In an instant, that face overlapped with the damn Ian from the news, and with those five arrogant members of the Huaxia Justice League.
Humiliation, jealousy, and pure rage.
The faint red blisters on his forehead suddenly turned a vivid crimson, as if magma were surging beneath his skin.
An unprecedented desire to tear, destroy, and torture roared up from the deepest depths of his soul.
"It's Homelander! He's here!"
Inside the bank, one of the robbers spotted the figure through the window, his voice pitching up in terror.
Another robber's hand trembled. Under the immense psychological pressure, he subconsciously pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The assault rifle bullet struck Homelander squarely on his handsome face.
Then, it ricocheted off his body of steel.
Squelch.
The ricocheting bullet deflected at a bizarre angle, burying itself into the thigh of a female hostage.
"Ah! Fuck! God damn it!"
Agonized by the sudden pain, the woman cursed out loud as blood instantly stained her pants red.
"God damn it?"
Homelander smiled.
The smile was no longer the sunny, warm expression he wore for the cameras. Instead, it carried a cold cruelty, like a predator watching its prey's futile struggles.
He moved.
Leaving an afterimage in his wake, he appeared inside the bank lobby the very next second.
He grabbed the shooter by the throat, hoisting him into the air.
As the robber stared back with a distorted, terrified gaze born of asphyxiation, Homelander casually threw a punch with his free hand.
Splat!
A sickening, muffled thud of pulverized flesh echoed through the room.
The robber's upper body exploded like a smashed watermelon.
Warm blood, shredded meat, and internal organs showered the surrounding hostages.
Homelander released his grip, letting the bisected corpse collapse to the floor.
With a fluid motion, he reached out and forcefully ripped an entire bloody, bone-white spinal column straight out of the remains.
"Ahhhhhh!!!"
Ear-piercing screams finally erupted, nearly blowing the roof off the bank.
Yet, the noise did not irritate Homelander in the slightest.
Instead, it acted like the most potent stimulant injected straight into his brain.
A sick, unprecedented sense of euphoria washed over his nerves with every beat of his heart.
The Crossed virus was silently transforming him into a true monster.
"Homelander! Stop!"
Queen Maeve finally smashed through the front doors, only to freeze in her tracks, horrified by the hellish scene before her.
But it was too late.
Homelander had completely lost control.
He cast a disgusted glance at the hostage screaming the loudest.
Sizzle!
Two beams of searing red Heat Vision flashed past.
The woman, still shrieking at the top of her lungs, was instantly severed in half.
The cut was as smooth as a mirror, and her internal organs spilled across the floor in a pool of blood.
'There can't be any witnesses...'
'If they leak this, it'll definitely affect my follower count.'
Under the virus's twisted, paranoid logic, Homelander's azure eyes viewed all these hostages as "threats" that had to be eliminated.
He commenced a highly efficient and brutal massacre.
His Heat Vision swept across the room, slicing both hostages and robbers into multiple pieces.
The howling wind from his fists pulverized flesh and bone into a mist of gore.
When Vought International's crisis management team arrived at top speed, they were greeted by a deathly silence.
Inside the bank, there was no one left alive except for a shell-shocked, trembling Maeve, and Homelander, who wore an expression of absolute, unadulterated bliss.
Ashley stared at the dismembered remains littering the floor, then at the smiling man who was toying with the spinal cord in his hands like a trophy.
A chill originating from the very depths of her soul filled her with genuine terror.
However, it only took her a few seconds to regain her composure—a testament to her skills as Vought's top PR executive.
"Lock down the scene! Initiate the highest-level crisis PR protocol! Get the explosives ready!"
"Announce to the public that the ruthless robbers detonated high explosives strapped to their bodies, taking all the hostages down with them!"
Her voice was cold and decisive.
...
Meanwhile, in a dilapidated apartment reeking of cheap whiskey and cigarette smoke.
Billy Butcher stared at the emergency news broadcast on the television, a disdainful sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Terrorist attack? Explosives? Bullshit."
He took a massive swig of liquor, his eyes brimming with hatred and murderous intent.
Just then, his dusty, outdated computer let out a soft ping.
An encrypted email quietly sat in his inbox.
The sender was unknown, left completely blank.
The email contained only a single, heavily corrupted video file covered in static.
Frowning, Butcher attempted to open the file.
Ten minutes later, a few seconds of silent bank security footage appeared on the screen.
In the footage, Homelander casually tore a hostage to shreds before turning to face the camera.
He wore that hair-raising, satisfied smile on his face.
Then, he hurled a bloody, mangled, dripping mass of flesh straight at the lens, tossing it away like garbage.
The footage abruptly cut off.
Butcher glared fixedly at the smiling face on the screen, the veins on the hand gripping his liquor bottle bulging prominently.
Taking this video, he sought out the families of the bank massacre victims who also refused to believe the official narrative.
A brand-new iteration of The Boys began to quietly assemble in the shadows of Vought International and Homelander.
...
At the globally broadcasted memorial service.
Homelander wore a black suit and a fedora pulled low, concealing his forehead and half of his face.
Standing at the podium, he used his most sorrowful, impassioned tone to condemn the brutality and evil of terrorism.
"I promise you all, a tragedy like this will never happen again!"
His speech earned thunderous applause.
Countless people shed tears over his heartbreaking words.
Yet, hidden in the shadows cast by the brim of his hat, where no one could see...
His lips were curling upwards uncontrollably in a maniacal grin.